Of Opinions. I.

WE Consider Opinions here as well Er­rours sent abroad under the vi­zards [Page 2] of Truth, yet by some Wart or Moale di­stingwishable, as Truths themselves walking un­der the notions of Para­doxes.

Some broach them to serve the glory of their owne Names, and this is ambitious; some to poyson and infect others, and this is dia­bolicall; others to oc­casion further search & satisfaction, and this is discreete. To stick to ones owne after suf­ficient conviction; ar­gues selfe-love to re­ject anothers at the first [Page 3] blush, peevishnesse; to follow antiquity hood­wink'd, is but Jmplicite Ignorance; utterly to reject it, and wholy leane on Novelty, a hea­dy lightnesse.

Those Opinions are not like to get much footing which meete not with the disposi­tion of true and place to entertaine them, as that of Vigilius of the Antipodes; but on the contrary, they easily spread, as that Pro­ject of the holy Warre, meeting with a stout and superstitious Age; [Page 4] they take best roote when they are sowed by degrees, for that in­sensibly qualifyes mens Humors, and adapts them for molding; as Columbus designe of a discovery after hee had beene stav'd off by se­verall Christian Prin­ces, yet by his owne confidence (which que­stionlesse was strength­ned by a higher power) He gained the assistance of the King and Queene of Castile.

Where they are to meete with a people groaping in grosse ig­norance, [Page 5] The weakest and those that sute best with such conceptions, doe with the greatest facility possesse them­selves; for eyes com­ming out of dark­nesse are unable to en­dure light, whereas they can with small or no paine suffer twi­light; but those of more rectified Reasons, can sustaine bright and gli­string discoveries to beat in upon them.

Disputing of an e­vinc'd certainty teach­eth againe to doubt of it; cashering of a proba­bility, [Page 6] not throughly sifted, may cut off meanes of further knowing, since though errror bee blinde, shee sometimes bringeth forth seeing Daughters. The Alchymists have benefited the World more by their occasio­nall experiments, then ever they will do with their Gold; and the prodigious Tenents of some of the old Phi­losophers, have given hints for some more accurate discussions, truth having this advantage over her enemy that [Page 7] shee makes her turne many times her wea­pons upon her own self.

Hee takes the best course to keepe his judgement from bia­sing, that narrowly heeds upon what prin­ciples both parties build, whether both stand fast to their owne grounds (as sometimes in Philosophy utraque Pars est vera) and whe­ther ground is surer to build upon.

So long as no man can challenge an un­errancy, nay, the grea­test mindes have beene [Page 6] [...] [Page 7] [...] [Page 8] soyled with the foulest staines: to captivate ones reason to a private braine, is to betray it to anothers error; but the [...]. Retention of assent to settle it in the best surety, and rejecting what is disallowed without protervity, is the safest meanes of sure and solid know­ledge.

Multiplication of Opinions in Religion, argues that mens minds are unsettled, and the Tapour of Devotion burnes but dimly; they generally usher in up­roares [Page 9] in the State, sel­dome end in ver­ball contestation; nay One Sect subdivided, pursues her owne diffe­rences with the most rancour; as is seen a­mongst the Jewes, Turks and Persians, some swarmes of Friers &c. whether it be that they thinke errours that ap­proach nearest the Truth to be most per­nicious, or that they can the worse tolerate them where they least expected to finde them.

Some Tenents are more easily maintained [Page 10] then opposed, some better to confute then assert; some that are detestable, carry in them shewes of applause; o­thersome seeme more ugly then they are re­ally; it is a poore flat­tery of a mans selfe to propose his adversaries arguments with their edge blunted; nor can it proceed from any thing else then a Spirit of malice, to set them out in more horrid vi­sages then they truly carry. The multitude is susceptible of any opi­nions, being ever un­constant, [Page 11] suspitious, credulous, violently hurried away with them for the time, which is never long; e­ver greedy of liberty, though neither knowing to obtaine nor possesse it; easie to be wrought on in matter of Religion, and that rather out of a reverentiall confidence of their Priests, then reliance of their owne Judgements, either a­doring or detesting their Governours, and consequently some­time struck out of a tu­mult by the presence of [Page 12] one, whose age and vir­tues have plac'd him be­yond their envy: Some­times boyling into a commotion at the ap­pearance of another, whose Pride, Oppressi­on or Greatnesse hath caus'd their malice, I­dolizing their owne darlings for the present, and suddenly crushing them; Implacable where they have the upper hand, meerely Asinine where they know an over-ruling power, sus­pecting the designes of great ones, and ever taking their practises [Page 13] to be darker then they appeare. Wise men are timerous in the disfran­chising of their judge­ment before they suffer their considerations to be regulated with rea­son, and matur'd by time; once setled, it is one of the greatest taskes to remove them; doubts cause them to suspend their Assents; satisfaction of doubts Confirmes them, and renders them inflexible, that many times they will write a Confirmati­on of their Theses with their owne Blood.

[Page 14]Since we all see here but per transennam, or as men in mists, one may see somewhat further then another: yet none can take a ful and cleare Prospect: it is but Cha­rity to pardon that in another (Errorr) from which no man can ex­empt himselfe.

Of Time. II.

THe most pretious thing we can enjoy is time; yet neither is it, nor doe we enjoy it; [Page 15] we cannot reinforce a pass'd minute, nor re­lie upon a future mo­ment; all we have is that Punctum fluens, Now: which is no part at all of it. Thus are we like flowers nurst by the wind, and if we escape a violent hand in our bloome, we after wither and droope into the Bosome of our mother Earth: So that he seem'd to carry Reason along with him, who called Nature Step-mo­ther, in that she gives us so small a portion of Time, that we com­monly [Page 16] rot before we ripen; But he conside­red not that brave Acti­ons are the best Chrono­logies, and that we one­ly live so long as we live under the Colours of vertue; in other actions we are no more then Irrationals; nay, they were farre more happy then we (many of them) to climbe to so many Centuries of yeeres, whereas the greater part of us can hardly reach halfe one. 'Tis a comfort Thetis gives her brave Sonne in Homer, that though [Page 17] he should be ( [...]) short liv'd, yet he should continue himselfe in the Admiration of Poste­rity: Many snacht out of the world in their youth, though they might have been more beneficiall, yet are be­neficiall by their exam­ple, of drawing out the short threed of life, by interweaving it with choice Actions, and ma­king it though small, yet well wrought. Thus indeed we wrest the Sythe out of the hand of Time, and pull the wings from his heels; [Page 18] But idlenesse is too delicate to doe either, and it on­ly content to anticipate death, by suffering her selfe to be Rackt with Passions, and entomb'd in Pleasures; Thus our Silken Gallants are so sicke of Time, that they embrace any meanes to shake it off; but high Soules like the Heavens they come from, move continu­ally, and are uncapable of rest, untill they rest there; They looke at the gliding of e­very Sand in the Houreglasse of their [Page 19] life, and are so insen­sible of labours and withall so unwearied, that as in Naturall mo­tions, they move with greatest force in the latter end. God sends us not unto the Thea­ter of this World to be [...]. mute persons, but actors; and though hee grants many Exits, yet it is but that wee may re-enter with the greater Activity; and it is an arcanum of his Empire to conceale from us the date of our dayes, that wee may the bet­ter number them, and [Page 20] keepe us perpetually a­wake, because we know not how soone he may come upon us; for Hee will come like a Theife in the night.

Thrift in the Expence of our time is an ex­cellent virtue, wisedome to manage it to our best improvement, the Base whereon the Su­perstructures of all o­ther wisdome lyes; 'tis an honest injury to Na­ture, to steale from her some houres of repose; unsufferable to the soule to let the Golden houres of the [Page 21] morning passe without advantage, seeing shee is then more capable of Culture, and seemes to bee renewed as well as the day; It were an excellent posture to paint Caesar in, as hee swome with a Booke in the one hand, and a Sword in the other, since hee made his Tent an Academy, and was at leisure to read the Phystognomy of the Heavens in Military Tumults. This shewes hee knew how to prize time, and hated Idle­nesse as much as a Su­perior, [Page 22] and indeed to speake to Christians, we ought to looke how wee spend our houres here, knowing they are but the praeludium of that which shall be no time but Eternity.

Of Felicity. III.

IT was an unsucces­full stratagem of sa­tan to tempt his Lord and Maker with the Kingdomes of the earth, and the glories there­of; [Page 23] yet how hath hee ever gained by it? most being contented to look upon it through his Op­tick instruments, and then indeed it seemes onely glorious; but who consider it as it is in it selfe, see, that it is the basest Element, spur­ned (as it were) out from among the Rest, as though Nature dis­deigned it a Roome, but what it crouded for; besides compared with the Heavens, tis puncti instar, or as the Arabians say, minimum de minimo, and can [Page 24] produce nothing with­out the Influence of them; and those cir­cles by which her mea­sures doe so magnifi­cently cantonize her, are onely Imaginary, and but borrowed from the Sphere.

Now the Soule by the almost unanimous consent of the Hea­then, being a Divine substance, and onely mued up in this cloyster of flesh, cannot but entertaine so strong de­sires of liberty, that although courted by all the blandishments [Page 25] the World can offer ‘Aestuat Infoelix angusto limite mundi.’

So that those who walked in the midnight of Nature, both wisht and sought for a day of happinesse, but they like men in the darke did onely wander, or like Pilgrims in the Wildernesse still ingage on new errors; yet what sweet did this disqui­sition cost? all confessing, most searching, none finding.

We have it brought [Page 26] brought home to our own doores, nay, are woed to accept it; and yet how many are con­tent to cheat themselves of it for a Toy? These are like Noahs Crow sent out an Espiall of the weather, which being entertained with carrion was content to live in Exile. But those hap­py soules that claspe hold of it, are like the Dove that could finde no resting place, till shee returned to the Arke; these though they enjoy the greatest fe­licity can bee enjoyed [Page 27] on Earth, an Earnest of Heaven, yet are they un­satisfyed till they en­joy Heaven it selfe; They can set a true estimation of those sub­lunarie things, that others are contented so to overbuy, more Sottish then the Bar­barous Indians to ex­change Gold for Glasse: more greedy then A­talanta, loose themselves to stoope for a golden Apple; or to take it a Note higher, more wicked then Iudas to sell their Master for a thing of nothing, and [Page 28] yet like Plato's people in the Cave wander they in their pleasing dark­nesse, offended if you shew them light, nor marvaile if Oules can­not endure the Sunne, when it is the best dis­coverer of a true Eaglet.

They both goe on contrary principles and are led by contrary guides, these by Fan­cy, the other by judge­ment, the one by a purblind Reason, the other by a quick faith; the one builds on the Sand, the other on [Page 29] the Rock; the one is the Golden Image whose feete is of clay, the other the Tree whose Roote was in Earth, and branches in Heaven. There is more in that Elizium of the Poets then a meere flowrish; truely if the Originall of it were exactly traced, it would bee found in Aegypt, and yet the Aegypti­ans not the first Au­thors, and from them devolved among other knowledge into the Schooles, which gave the best fuell to the choy­cest [Page 30] inventions, nei­ther is there any great cause to wonder at the corruption of it, since being not fordable by Humane reason, hu­mane Reason brought it downe to that low­nesse it could wade over it, and fitted it to her owne capacity, since shee was not wide e­nough to Receive it as it was in it selfe.

I have not that I remember observed of any Nation though neer so barbarous, but it had some glimmering Notion or other of a­nother [Page 31] Life; for that whimsey of Pythagoras of the transmigration of Soules, it hath beene hissed out long since as Heterodox.

So that if these may to Reason evinee a second Life, wee can turne our eyes no way but we have examples of the shortnesse of this; It were madnesse to set our hearts on what we cannot long enjoy, al­though there were somewhat here worth our liking.

Of Preaching. IIII.

PReaching is the Christall aquaeduct that conveighs the water of Life to us, the Pil­lar of fire in the Night, the Manna in the Wil­dernesse; but that it fals most plentifully on the Sabboth; they gather the best that are all eare, and grow the bes [...] by it that are all Heart; This is Gods solemne Ambassie to the Soule. [Page 33] and we must heare him, although as to Baalam, he speake to us by the mouth of an Asse, and yet he must either boare our eares, or we cannot heare what the Spirit speaketh unto the Churches, for his messages are high and mysterious, such as can finde no entrance in at the eare of a man of flesh, who is too fast asleepe to take any Alarme at the Silver Trumpet of the Gospell; Nay often when God is desirous he should shake off such a Spiri­tuall [Page 34] lethargy, calls upon him; hee like young Samuel mistakes the voice, and returnes againe unto his slum­bers; but such is Gods passionate love to man­kinde, that he irre­sistibly forces himselfe in; And such his is infi­nite wisdome that he alwaies selects the fittest meanes; as Hearts of Adamant he softens with Goats milk, Hearts of Iron with fire; some like Paul he brings in with light from Heaven, others like Timothy he lets un­derstand [Page 35] the Scriptures from their Childhoods; to some Soules he comes as he did to Eli­sha, first in an earth­quake of guilt of Sinne, then in a whirlewinde of sorrow for sinne; then in a fire, a tyrall of righteousnesse: then in a still voyce, a calme and composed Consci­ence; others he builds up as was Solomons Temple without the noise of a hammer; nay such an Admirable method hath he to insinuate himselfe, that though he come in a Conquerer, [Page 36] he suffers the Soule to be victorious, and though he force her, leaves her a pure vir­gin, and both compels her to be willing and makes her willing to be compelled. Tis an admirable thing to see two meere Carnalists at a Sermon, the one bring away himselfe discompos'd, and the o­ther hardned; such a wonderfull Nature hath the word, that it free­zes as well as thawes, and it is as well a sea-ring Iron, as a two-edged sword; The [Page 37] Law speakes wounds, the Gospell oyle; the one Threats, and the other Blandishments; the one of the wilder­nesse, the other of the land of Canaan. The one begins with our fall, the other with our restitution; The one shewes us we leane on the bulrush of our owne merits, the o­ther how we may finde acceptation through Christ our Lord; The one was delivered with fire and lightening; the other with a Quire of Angels and a Starre, [Page 38] the vehemency of the one, and the delicacy of the other, are the best rhetorike to win a Soul; the one inforces Arguments, the other confirmes them; yet what poore Orators doth God (to convince reason it selfe of his Glory) oft make use off, that they may not speake in excellency of mans wisdome, but demonstrations of the Spirit? but abstract them into a voyce, and what differs the mea­nest Minister, from the greatest Rabbi, hu­mane [Page 39] learning being a good Hand-maide and an ill companion to di­vinity, who though she carry away the Jew­els and Earerings of the Aegyptians, she desires to use them and not wanton with them. Embossed Language tickles the eares, nervous twitches the Heart: the one is better for an Oration, the other for a Sermon, in which there would be Ethicall Truth as well as Logi­call.

Of Fame. V.

DEsire of Fame is an Epidemicall passion, that possesseth low as well as high mindes, but is only predominant in the lat­ter, the other it may force up a little from their owne center, but can hardly advance them to any great de­signements; from this Roote sprung all the virtues of the Heathens; [Page 41] this very winde blew the pens of the Poets, and first made them cast inke so clearely, and taught Princes to feed them, seeing it was a cheaper way to outbrave Oblivion, then by emptying their Treasures on heapes of stones; and it hath proved the surer way too, since many of them have through age forgot the Names of their Founders, others have quite shrunke a­way; othersome with their gastly Ruines can onely present us sad con­siderations [Page 42] of what they have been; wher­as we have Ajax fight­ing as stoutly this day in Homer, as when he made the Trojans turne their backs of the Na­vy; and the wildfire of Lust burning as hot in Helens cheekes, as when it set Troy on fire: the clouds of the Times intercepted the sight of other Paths, nay hardly suffe­red them to tread these aright; they would adopt one person to a great performance, and in the same act by stum­bling [Page 43] either at time or place, basterdize him; so that it would be a Thirteenth Labour of Hercules to make us believe any of his twelve. But more re­fin'd Ages threw of their disguises and vi­zards of fables, and chus'd rather to ap­peare unmask'd in Histories. But yet how often did they paint, how often did Historians like flatte­ring Limners draw too favourably, or shadow ore a wrinkle; and stily forge in some se­cret [Page 44] grace; How oft anger so jog'd their hands that they could onely dash and blot, so that vice many times Cog'd virtue out of the Chariot, and rode in her stead in Triumph, and she is as well con­tent to steale her ho­nour as her upper gar­ments; yet envy hath done as much hurt as Malice, in cankering virtues by looking on them, and those not the meanest, but the most faire and goodly; wings become this Harpye very well, since [Page 45] she still mounts aloft and disdaines to stoope to inferiour Preyes; Questionlesse, Pens made of her quils are ever blunt in the end; Libels are her spawns, but as other Monsters short liv'd if they be not honoured with an encounter, for so they will continue more long and but die honou­rably; it argues a great Spirit to fight with them by flying, as did Augustus and other great Personages, who left examples that there may good use [Page 46] be made of them, in that they may give oc­casion to casheire some lurking vice, which fled, ones owne obser­vation, and had not been hinted by the two much modesty of friends. A good name is better then precious oyntment, nay rather to be chosen then great Riches, said he that had as great a share of Riches and Glory as a­ny man living; 'Tis an unexpressible comfort to any; to have their Actions smell sweet in the nostrils of good [Page 47] men; as that Naturall perfume about Alexan­ders body, argued an excellent Crasis; so doth the sweet rellish of ones carriage a good composure in the Soule; Tacitus saith, contemp­tu famae contemni vir­tutes; and Tully, Neg­ligere quid de se quisque sentiat, non solum arro­gantis sed etiam dissolu­ti; yea these people that care not for being well spoken of, are a feard of being ill; as was apparent in Ti­berius, who so long as he could shadow [Page 48] his manners ad pompam & ornatum continued at Rome, although hee refused honour so stif­ly, that it was inter­preted Modestia dege­neris animi; but, when Age begun to perfect his corruptions, hee retired to Capreae, that hee might with the better vacancy, and secrecy attend his lusts.

Writing of Lives is very profitable both to the memory of the party, and to Posteri­ty; they doe better Launce into secret hu­mours, and present men [Page 49] in their Nightgowns, when they are truely themselves. A Generall may be more perfect­ly discovered on his Pallet, then when hee appeares in the head of an Army; They leave us withall good Copies, that beginners in the World may write by; men of most raysed thoughts have not disdained patterns; as Germanicus took Af­fricanus: Iulius Caesar, Alexander: Mahomet the great, both: others, others. A diligent com­paring of those that [Page 50] resembled one another in their manners or for­tunes, were more worth then the Paines. Plu­tarch (to whom Rome stands indebted for the virtues of her Trajan) hath done somewhat, yet some very steady judgements have found his Matches are une­quall, and hardly jump, so that they may tru­ly bee called Paralells, for they will never meete.

The description of ones owne Life might bee thought ambitious, were it not it hath [Page 51] beene done by some persons, either alrea­dy sated with glory, or not regarding it, as among the Ancients, Io­sephus, Nazianzen, &c. moderns; Thuanus, Fr. Junius, &c. for fidelity, they going out of the World, can have no great desire to juggle, and they have the most Liberty in relation, for Truth they are best able to be acomptants of their own Actions; for authority, they can best command atten­tions; since their past life, hath beene but [Page 52] the Exordium to what they speake, and every word is raised from a masse of experience, so that it were to bee wished, that Modesty did not withdraw ma­ny men from this Taske, and that there were not so great a paucity of those that have la­boured in the other.

As there is an Ex­orbitant desire of Fame, so is there a too nice Refusall of it; nay sometime it is more ambitious then the Ac­ceptance, as in that of Cato, hee had rather [Page 53] men should aske why his statua was not there, then why it was; or perhaps it may be with intent to draw on more, as in Caesars refusing the Crowne, Non Rex sum sed Caesar: but it is seldome, or never Cordiall and reall, there being an innate desire in every man, to trans­mise himselfe unto po­sterity: For as Han­niball gallantly frets it out in Silius, ‘[Page 54]"Heu quantum distant à morte silentia vitae.’

There may be glea­ned out of Histories (but it will require a whole taske) severall wayes and Ginnes used for Glory; they are most observable in those Mushrums that rise ex minimis initiis, because, having their fortunes to mold out themselves, they are forced to looke more narrowly into exquisite meanes: as first to possesse themselves of [Page 55] the People; who are most soone wonne, and most hardly held; for it is ever, that they rather desire to make men great, then they can endure them when they are great, and are better to erect then conserve a Favorite; and this is done by insi­nuating into them of most authority among them, they being like the Bells in the Grove of Iupiter, touch one and they all sound; this was commonly practised in Rome, in any Tumult to possesse [Page 56] themselves first of the Tribunes; or by Liberality, which was Caesars course, That wee may say hee made himselfe by undoing him­selfe, or else by put­ing on a disguise of Religion; and what else was Scipio's stay­ing in the Capitoll? withall a good stock of parts is required to begin on, but these are Cause-wayes of ambition as well as fame.

Inserting a Name in­to a History, is some­what more flat, com­mending [Page 57] it to after Ages by writings, comes farre nearer the Life; the Image of a man is conveyed both wayes, the first as in a draught of Colours, Dimensions but no Motions; for Histories for the most part pick but at the Rind of bu­sinesse, and few are writ with such exact­nesse, that wee can perfectly see the con­currence of Instruments, carriage of counsells and Influence of Supe­riors. The other as in a Christall, there is a [Page 58] perfect Repercussion of a Mans visage, and he is hardly a judicious Reader that cannot in any worke (except it be absolutely Dram­atick) g [...]esse at the Genius and Inclination of an Author. Hasty glory frequently ex­tinguisheth in Snuffe, for it ariseth from Ex­pectation, for the most part; which if not secunded by a double performance, turns to undervaluing; And mens judgements have more time to grow dispassionate and dis­intangled, [Page 59] so that there would bee required a singular cunning in poy­sing a Mans selfe, and staying too hasty Aug­mentations, for they give but occasion of more narrow inquiry, and raise up more store of enemies.

Fame upon no de­serts may be a silent in­vitation to deserving; but where there is op­posite vices, tis merely sarcasticall, and Ironi­call, nor ought to bee entertained without a Sting and Blush.

Of Studies. VI.

MAny have Chalk­ed us out Methods for study, out of which it were more easy to draw one good one, then to finde one a­mong them. Some give sleight directions for the attaining of Sci­ences, as though they were meerly to Relieve the memory, and with­draw some fading Notions: or else as if they supposed us to [Page 61] have either so short Lives, or small Indu­stries, that wee could onely cast some small glances on Learning. Others are so Elaborate that the Lives of the old Patriarkes would be too short to take those voyages they direct. Some parcell out Studies into Time, very unfitly, since some wits can digest before others can Chew, and some hot Stomacks turne all to good Nourishment, whereas others are so weake, that they cannot away [Page 62] with any thing that is not a Chylus before they Receive it; be­sides some ingage up­on Literature towards Maturity, when their judgement is stayd, and fastned; others are brought into it in their Childhood, while their parts doe but fluctuate, and there cannot but be a great disproportion betwixt these two; for assidui­ty best manures the one, whereas the o­ther would onely be sprinkled with some dew; for overmuch [Page 63] watering doth but loosen them in the Root, and so destroys them. Some wits are of a finer temper, and would have learning instilled into them by way of Recreation; others it must either be forced and hammer­ed into, or else they will never Receive Im­pressions to any pur­pose.

The Prescription of various Methods hath arisen from this; some by the purenesse of their Naturalls have reached to good perfection in [Page 64] learning more compen­diously, and suppose others may doe the like, others having gone about, thinke at their jornyes end they can prescribe nearer paths; Others having stumb­led on some Method, and finding it succes­full in two or three more pregnant wits, in­deavour to obtrude the use of it upon the World; but indeede some Generall directi­ons can onely be given, Mens meanes and ends being so various, some abounding in leisure, [Page 65] others in meanes; some happening on an Ex­cellent Tutor, others being forced to hew out all themselves; some desiring to know much, others to know well, so that we may truly say in this case, a Lesbian Rule were the most certaine.

Studying at set houres is much advised and practised, but cannot but bee a slavery to a free wit, who when shee is stinted begins to dislike Her enforce­ment to horary taskes, which carry in them a [Page 66] shew of Labour, but would quilt her im­ployments so with Recreations that shee might seeme to play in her severest businesse; Neither can wee so long as we carry these foure Elements about us, attend at all times with the same alacri­ty, so that it is in­justice to fetter a mans spirit to any fixed La­bours, but ever to seize on an advantage of her cheerefullnesse, and to make use of it; but finding a Re­luctancy to be weigh­ed [Page 67] downe; for such idlenesse is not onely harmelesse, but profit­able, like the taking of the Plumets of a clocke to make it goe in the better Order; neither will a great spirit bee content to Rest long, but reinforce her selfe with disdaine to bee buckled with so base a companion which devances her from her owne Sphear.

A Man may have many fine devices to cheat himselfe into a new Industry, whether by thinking of the exel­lency [Page 68] of that hee goes about, or placing his admiration upon the Eminency of some per­son exqeisite in it, or hearing it commended by others, or com­mending it himselfe, thrusting himselfe into such company, where he knowes it is respect­ed, and hee shall have occasion to make use of as much of it as he knowes; teaching it to some others. There are a many other neat Incentives, and such as might well deserve a catalogue; But in [Page 69] some cases a Man had neede know which way to disintangle him­selfe, as if hee finde his Fancy too Luxu­riant, to restraine it with matters of judgement: if hee finde himselfe inclinable to a study neither so profitable, nor advantagious, dexter­ously to conveigh him­selfe into another, and weane himselfe from the former; as to dis­hearten himself by look­ing at some peeces which are above his Reach, for then it will abate the edge of his [Page 70] desires, when hee sees his hopes seconded with no fruits; or looking upon some Author, who hath but feebly handled such a Subject, or Reading some bit­ter invectives against it, or foolish controver­sies of it, these will set a Mans thoughts straight, as in rectify­ing a Bough, we weigh it downe the contrary way.

One had neede take the hight of his owne parts, and see whether they lie adaequately to all Sciences, or strong­ly [Page 71] bend to any-parti­cular one, and to fol­low his owne inclina­tion with the most warinesse; for they doe but injure a mans parts that drive besides their owne bedd, which is many times the cause that they runne in so poore and muddy Chan­nels.

No man ought to graspe more then he can well fathome, for so he shall have his la­bour answered by but small profit; The Jtali­an sayes Che Abbracchia troppo stringhe puoco, [Page 72] and that very truly.

There is a ororium vinculum (as they call it) amongst the Scien­ces, and indeed none can tell a perfect tale but re­ferres somewhat to the relation of her Sister; so that he that would not make a Polygamie of them all, but is con­tent with one, had need admit the rest as Attendants.

The tongues are the fittest to be soonest learned, for they most depend upon the me­mory, which is stron­gest in children; who [Page 73] remember that best which they learne first; their tongues are more flexible to personate any pronunciation, which cannot so easily be es­said by one of riper age; withall, their judgements are not at any setlednesse, so that they cannot without prejudice follow more serious studies: Now continued meditation, doth strengthen and confirme old judge­ments, and doth one­ly put young ones on the Rack; so that these praecocia ingenia, as [Page 74] they shoote out before the Spring, so they commonly wither be­fore Winter.

Tongues are our In­terpreters in the World of knowledge; and what advantage hath he in a Nation, that understands the lan­guage by him that speakes with anothers mouth, and heares by anothers tongue? Tis well knowne what grosse errours in some of the Fathers this hath produced.

The choice pearle in Divinity, lies in the [Page 75] Hebrew; the best of morall knowledge a­mongst the Greekes, Politicall amongst the Romans, Rich Gems of the Mathmatiques a­mongst the rubbish of the Arabians; and who can perfectly under­stand these, unlesse he converse with them in their owne dialects? The effeminate French, the luscious Italian, the grave Spanish (three [...]. daughters of the Ro­man) adde both lustre and furtherance to o­ther knowledge. Un­lesse an inclination be [Page 76] very discoverable, it cannot be perceived till after Twelve; and from that time fancy begins to sprout & wan­tonize for some yeares, till it have arrived at the just height.

Judgement is long ere it be setled, experi­ence being the best nurse of it; and we see seldome Learning and Wisdome concurre, be­cause the former is got sub umbra, but busi­nesse doth winnow ob­servations, and the better acquaint us with breathing volumes of [Page 77] men, it teacheth us both better to read them, and to apply what we have read.

Memory is the Trea­sure of the minde, but trust her with overmuch, and she will at the best fall short in her ac­compts; a man should onely commit choice things to her, which should sooner concoct into good judgement; meaner notions take up as much roome as the more precious, and con­sequently insensibly weaken her. For they give a reason why [Page 78] blind men remember so strongly, because they are not taken off with so many exter­nall Objects: There are many Auxiliaries; as for the naturall me­mory meditation, ru­minations at night, dis­course, diaeticall and medicinall helps, &c.

For Artificiall me­mory, one wittily com­pares it to the tricks of a Pike, though osten­tation be one great fruit of it, yet in these two things, I have ever thought it usefull; first, it is a fit depositum of [Page 79] knowledge till it can be disposed into notes and naturall memory, which questionlesse is a mighty helpe; ano­ther is the continuing and placing of Idaeas, which doth greatly quicken and vegetate the Invention.

For notes, whether it be Analysing of an Author, or clositing up observables in severall Cells, they would be but very short, (other­wise they will draw away too much time and labour) or be dis­patched onely by refe­rences; [Page 80] some would have common places renewed at a certaine time, which whether advantageous or no, as long use can best dis­cover; so it may be easily granted, that un­lesse they be ranked in good order, they will prove more hurtfull then they could have been subsidiary to the memory.

Health ought to be nicely respected by a Student; for the la­bours of the minde are as farre beyond them of the body, as the [Page 81] diseases of the one are above the other; and how can a Spirit actu­ate when she is caged in a lump of fainting flesh? unseasonable times of study are very obnoxi­ous, as after meales, when Nature is wholy retired to concoction; or at night times, when she begins to droope for want of rest; hence so many Rhewmes, defluxi­ons, Catarrhs, &c. that I have heard it spoken of one of the greatest Ambulatory Peices of learning at this day, That he would redeeme [Page 82] (if possible) his health with the losse of halfe his Learning. C S.

For sleepe, seven houres comes the neer­est a fit proportion in generall, of any number can be assigned: but Phlegmatique Com­plexions may require more, and Sanguine may be content with lesse; yet ought it to be piacular for one of indifferent industry, to sleepe after foure in the morne, as to be up after nine at night; turning day to night, and night to day, and [Page 83] observing meale times with them of the other Hemisphere, is being most proper to the Luxury and wantonnesse of Courtiers.

Some studies would be hug'd as imployments, others onely dandled as sports; the one ought not to trespasse on the other; for to be Im­ployed in needelesse things is halfe to be idle.

Of Company VII.

MAn is a Creature made by nature for commerce; some he sorts with in a gene­rall manner, and these we call acquaintance: others in a more parti­cular, and these friends; accordingly we will shape our discourse; for the first, some you shall meete with, whom vices have so disguized, that they [Page 85] retaine onely the shape of men; of these you must by all meanes prohibite your selfe; and if your occasions push you upon them, doe it with all feare; remembring that vice is diffusive, and gaines more easily upon our depraved natures then Virtue: besides the truth spoke it; Touch not pitch least you be de­filed; Let the civility of your carriage make such silent invectives against those that che­rish vices, as that they may be discouraged to at­tempt [Page 86] your friendship, neither will they when they see contrary vir­tues; a Carbuncle shines though covered with many cloathes, Vir­tue will send forth a lustre through a many of imperfections; but Vice is bleer-ey'd and cannot endure to looke upon them, but desires to recede; as Antonies Genius did from that of Augustus.

Such as are of a dif­ferent Religion, may be kept company for Traffique, hope of con­version, &c. But if be­yond [Page 87] these limitations, you may be Lyme-twig'd with their er­rours and loose the Truth for a friend, which is a hard ex­change.

The society of La­dies and Gentlewo­men, is like the shade of a Tile-tree, very pleasant, though, the tree be unfruitfull, and the leaves tasted poyson.

Other companies are hardly so dangerous, yet since mens hu­mours are so various as their faces, there is required a supplenesse in [Page 88] behaviour (for men of morose natures, doe but in a manner stifle the vitall parts of humane society) and this was excellent in Alci­biades, who could conforme to the con­stitutions of all those severall people his variety of fortune made him converse with; as also a quicke sagacity in discovering complexions whether sound or unhealthfull, or disagreeing with your owne; if they hit not right, to with­draw so unperceived, [Page 89] that if you gaine not a friend, you may not get a enemy; for if he be not worthy to be the one, he may be a­ble to be the other; but if you finde endow­ments, from whence you may suck experi­ence, be as winning as you can, and endea­vour to draw most from thence where you finde the parley most furnished, and there commonly will he be most free; yet doe it in such a manner as he may not discover you; pose him, but dispatch [Page 90] it by such facetious turnes in discourse, that he may hardly suppose you to be se­rious; for so he might begin to have an eye on you, and be more reserv'd; when a man is in earnest, he stands up­on his guard; in mirth he lies open unfenc't: This is an honest and beneficiall subtilty, and by this meanes you may sometime jest your selfe into that in an houre, that you could not have labour'd out in a moneth; if you meeet with more [Page 91] reserved natures, you will commonly finde them also vaine-glori­ous; Let these know you value their endow­ments as highly as they do themselves, and they can wish no more; yet not parasitically, but as if it proceeded from judgement and serious observation, and it will very seldome prove unsuccessefull.

But, in case it doe, Arrowes tipt with sil­ver will pierce the best Armour of proofe, and for the most part cove­tousnesse intrudes in­to [Page 92] the Attendance of learning, and many times need will make you finde acceptance.

In generall have an eye on profit in what company soever you come; sometime you may glean high notions from meane persons, and finde matter of speculation from the mouth of a Zany, for a good and strong sto­mack will convert course viands into good nou­rishment; keepe your secrets fast lock't up, and be not inquisitive after anothers, but [Page 93] what is committed to you keepe as a sacred depositum; The wisest of men among many other excellent ones sayes Boccha chinsa occhi aperto [a shut mouth and open eye] and as Nature hath set a dou­ble guard on the tongue, doe not you enlarge her; for you hardly have another member so potent to your mischiefe. Tram­ple not on the imper­fections of any, but modestly dissemble them, and be sure they be never the Sub­jects [Page 94] of your scurrility, for they will wound deeper then the party himselfe; mention a­ny mans virtues at large and freely, his vices not at all or very sparing­ly; or if, to himselfe with all candor and modesty; you will finde this as subtile a trap for Fame as any you can devise; be e­ver jealous over them you deale with, and commit to them no more then you care if they disclose; if other­wise, you put a weapon into their hands in case [Page 95] they prove your ene­mies.

Make accompt such as you converse with shall you bee accompt­ed; for it is easy to sound a Mans condi­tions by his company, and company by his conditions; thus knew Augustus his two daugh­ters constitutions: The one sorting in the Theater with Senators, the other with Gal­lants; Man is of an Apish nature, and con­tent to take up his manners many times on trust, yea, and at [Page 96] the worse hand; Cu­stomes insensibly Na­turalize themselves, and wee draw them from those wee live with; It is best to call and select the choycest wher­soever wee mete them. Change of Society, as it makes the carriage pliant and various, so it prevents sucking too much of any ones hu­mour. They which use much old People, grow rigid, and harsh; youth light and active; bring­ing up Princes in cels hath made them more fit for to hold a crosse [Page 97] then a Scepter; breed­ing the Persian Kings among so many Wo­men made them fitter for a Nursery then for a Throne.

Of Friends. VIII.

FRiends are a Mans selfe in Fractions; hee that admits every one into the Number of them, prostitutes his Soule to all comers; hee who none, denies her one of the best [Page 98] comforts shee can here enjoy. Friendship of great men hath much honour, and small Se­curity; of meaner men, lesse credit, but more sweetnesse. That of e­qualls is ever best sol­dered, since their thoughts running par­allell, are not like to Clash; hee who chuse­eth in haste, shall have leasure enough to re­pent; Hee who at lea­sure and with directi­on, time enough to en­joy the fruits of his Wisdome. Hee who discovers all his se­crets, [Page 99] layes open his owne Nakednesse; Hee who none, may well faint under his Bur­then.

Hee who climbes up into the favour of Princes, steps a Ladder whose Rungs breake as hee passeth up, that whensoever hee must returne, hee must ne­cessarily fall. The most doggish Princes of all have had some choyce Privados, and these generally men of comely features and low births, whether it be they may the more [Page 100] absolutely cōmand crea­tures of their owne immediate Creation, or that they may the more easily reduce them in Materiam pri­mam; These seldome stand as constellations, but are onely Comets, which blaze as long as their piceous sub­stance remaines, and then vanish.

Great Men are like Summer suns; we de­light to eate the fruits of their bringing forth, but care not for lying under them, without the Jnterposition of a [Page 101] shade; yet in Winter when they are Low, and feeble, wee are con­tent to admire the beau­ty of their Rayes; they nourish those of mea­ner quality, most part onely to set the Trayns they lay, on fire, and when they fall, doe but like great Oakes breake their own bran­ches and Neighbouring underwoods; Aequality best glewes minds since there is neither occa­sion of Envy nor Con­tempt; it better Bal­lasts humours, whereas if any one grow prae­dominant, [Page 102] it causeth the dissolution of so sweet a frame. The Fable of the Lyon and Fox, (sayth Iulian the Apostate teach­eth meaner Friendships are not altogether un­usefull; no more they are; but yet hee that is Superior ought so to behave himselfe, that the Inferior may keep himselfe levell, by seeing the other still remember the distance betweene them, in such a manner as hee may rather observe it then his Friend shew it. Popularity sinkes [Page 103] greatnesse downe too low; the Medium be­tweene this and too much statelinesse is ve­ry hard to hit upon. Antonius the Philoso­pher, would give any man his hand hee met; Constance would sit without either hem or spit; but where is there an example of any that equally avoyded these two Rocks? of the two, the latter comes neerer Majesty; 'Tis excellently obser­ved by Livie of Cam­illus his Souldiers, eandem virtutem ode­rant, [Page 104] & mirabantur.

But for private friendship, had it not onely allowance, but also praise, the Holy Spirit would not so oft have beene flosculent, when Hee touched here; nay, Christ have loved one Disciple. It is the greatest pleasure because it Receives Augmentation from Con­tinuance: and the su­rest Treasure, because it neede feare no violent hand but Death.

Communication of Secrets is one of the best fruits of it; yet [Page 105] would they not bee forced into one ano­thers bosome, but drop of themselves; paps too straitly pres­sed, give onely ulcer­ous matter in stead of Milke.

Admonition is ano­ther maine advantage; but it would be done rather with Teares then Gall; and if possible, out of past discourses and private Maxims; and what is this but to grind a Diamond with his own dust?

Hee was too caute­lous that bid sic ama [Page 106] tanquam osurus. These two can never see one another perfectly, where Distruct and Iea­lousy put a mist be­tweene; The Graces were painted naked; And the wisest Men will be content to lay aside themselves to an Intimate friend; th'o­ther halfe was very Christian, odi tanquam amaturus; yet hee that bid have no Gall, al­lowed a sting for de­fence; And hee who advised us not to let the Sun set on our An­ger, did not advise to [Page 107] trust a deceiving e­nemy the next mor­ning.

Friendship would creepe to an hight, and not Rush to it, for so it will soone Run it selfe out of breath. Entertaine no sinister and by-ends, for these will bee but so many Moths, and Canker-Wormes that will eat out the heart and mar­row of it, and turne it to a more biter enmity; As to love is an emi­nency of man beyond beasts, so to love con­stantly argues a fixt [Page 108] high spirit, and such a one as scornes to stoope to change; it best agrees with the Levi­ty of children to bee both friends and ene­mies in the beating of a Pulse; wise men are the most cautelous in the Reception of an Inti­mate; Mecaenas's Chari­nesse to Horace, was ex­emplary,

Nono revocas me de­nique mense; but when they once joyne league, it is indissoluble. History affords us ma­ny pompous examples of strict amities, but [Page 109] it may be justly feard that some have in them too much of the Fable; for soules may indeed mingle, but doubtlesse can never grow one. Lubrick is the estate of Favorites, few doe not stand sometime in umbrage or set in a Cloud, if not in a storme. 'Tis as rare for one to stand in an eminent degree of favour two Kings Reignes as a son to inherit the good affection of a Prince to his Father. Kings of composed tempers, best preserve their dar­lings, [Page 110] when they have arrived to just growths; they of hotter spirits change them with as little passion as they do their Robes. That favourite is the likest to continue that suffers the rayes of favour not to fall perpendicular­ly, but Obliquely upon him.

Of Dissimulation. IX.

DIssimulation quick­ens Policy, and mortifyes Divinity; in the former the Tongue is the sole actor, in the latter the heart is also an agent; The first may sometimes bee connived at, the latter alwayes detested: wee shall according to our cursory and imperfect manner (for hee that expects exactnesse and method in an ES­SAY, [Page 112] wrongs both the Author and his owne expectation) look upon a part and joynt­ly.

Sleights in civill car­riages are now be­come so frequent, that they are almost neces­sary, both sides in their performance ra­ther supposing they act in the darke to others, then that it is so; which may bee one rea­son, why there is now a dayes so little gain­ed by Treaties; It was the observation of an excellent man, that [Page 113] in Modern councells, there is rather a shuffling of approaching dangers, then preventing them from afarre; if so, it argues men are not very cunning in laying traines, and there is a decay in present policy; As hee playes not well at draughts, that onely can avoyd snapping when it comes to a pinch, so doth it not argue any excellent wisdome in them that suffer dangers to meet them at their owne doores; Wee have [Page 114] many times wondred at the greatnesse and prudence of the Ro­man State; and no doubt before the luxa­tion of the Common-Weale, the latter was more eminent; but especially in prevent­ing of growing Evills, notwithstanding hardly discoverable by the most Eaglesighted: yet did that State more then any other at above board, whether meer­ly out of generosity or ambition, is not much materiall; 'Tis great art in dissimulati­on [Page 115] to dissemble the art of dissimulation; grea­ter to performe that Magnale in Serspective, to appropinquate things remote, and Remove things approximate; thus apply'd it may prove advantageous; but if it once leap over those bounds prefixt to it by Religion and Honesty, (as they say) steppe beyond the altar, what a man gaines by it in his affaires, hee looses in the serenity of his conscience; for wee understand not at all Macchiavilian Machina­tions, [Page 116] wrought by per­jury and Inhumanity, but an honest and co­lumbine kinde of cun­ning, which shakes at perjury as that which in­fringes the Majesty of the deity, nor can allow of equivocations which rather strengthen then elude oaths.

In some cases natu­rall desire of ones own conservation, will force him to dissemble, as the retaining of secrets among Potentates, which unlesse strictly obser­ved, brings assured ruine upon the disco­verer; [Page 117] A lamentable example hereof is there in Guicciardin of the Bishop of Setta, who too precipitantly re­vealing a Breife to the King of France, was not by Caesar Borgia suf­fered many dayes to survive.

Personall dissimulati­on, (that I meane by which one individuall doth either meliorate, or conserve himselfe) is either in concealing defects, or purposes; For the former, that Governour deserves to have his Robe cut in [Page 118] peeces, that though he be crookbackt, will not have it so made, that he may appeare straight. Men may out of a brave security suffer their vices to be eyed or spoken of, confi­dently assured that their better merits doe farre outstrip them; but no doubt this path is too open, since one small blemish doth some­times staine many ex­cellent vertues, and though so small that it cannot stand in competition with other eminencies, yet doth [Page 119] it by degrees weaken a mans repute; this granted, it will Poris­matically follow, that Magistrates ought what they may possibly to cover those slips that attend humanity, as well for example, as their owne Repute; 'tis (they say) dan­gerous to act any naughtinesse before children.

Tis so with the peo­ple; those vices which [Page 120] they wish in great men and also hate, they most times follow; for obnubilating a mans designes, he that laies his ultimate end o­pen, teaches but ano­ther to prevent him; subordinate aimes, as they are ever among States, so are they a­mong private men; besides when tis known what a man goes about, tis cōmonly forestalled by attending expectan­cies; there is best meanes of preventing this, where there is one secondary end worth [Page 121] the repute and visage of a primary, on which while a man lookes a­squint, he may with the better security fix his eye on the other.

The Spaniard sayes, Amores, dolores, y di­neros no pueden estar se­cretas; (Love, Ioy, Mo­ney, cannot be kept secret) such soveraignty hath love over the affecti­ons, that it is the high­est difficulty to dissem­ble it accurately, nay after all, it will be laid open by some Erotique symptomes, but they fall not under this con­sideration; [Page 122] for griefe, tis every whit as ardu­ous; a while it may be supprest, but if ve­hement, it breakes out with the greater force; nay though it may co­zen the Publique, yet will it write it selfe in Characters of pallor, in the visage; and for money, the alterations of mens dispositions with their estates; doth sufficiently ar­gue; methinks the moderation of Pompo­nius Atticus was here­in excellent, in that he in so many changes [Page 123] of estate kept the same constancy in his expences, that they were the same in the ebb as high tide of his fortunes.

Tis hard to keepe these two equally bal­lanc't, especially those that devance. The in­tempestive lavishnesse of our Richard the first in his returne from Pa­lestine, was the meanes of his discovery, and wretched captivity. Vice makes especiall use of disguizes.

[Page 124]Should she at the first view discover her selfe, she would prove so ugly, that she would be hiss'd of the stage of the World, and we should not know that vertue had an opposite; but we have staid lon­ger on this then we at first determined.

For dissimulation of Religion, it cannot be to him who trieth the heart and reines, who seeth the most inward recesse of our Soules, and knoweth our thoughts before we thinke them; men we [Page 125] may indeed deceive, either in the appea­rance of our manners, or opinions; some to avoid the name of super­cilious, cast themselves to a lighter garbe then beseemes them; tis a kind of pitty these should have any thing commendable, since goodnesse is so valua­ble even in the sight of her enemies, that very Hypocrites would claime kindred to her though meere aliens; another sort strive to set out themselves with the fairest glosse; [Page 126] these before discovery may be imitable, but prove after odious; good sentences in their in their mouthes, are like pearls set in Iron, debast by being there; and carry but contradictions in their owne bowels; now of the two surely these are the better, in that they give some coun­tenance to, and in a manner beare up the traine of vertue; where­as the other kicke her, while she reposes, from form their owne bo­somes.

[Page 127]There is much spit­ting against those that declaime against vices whereunto they some­times slip. If this pro­ceede from a sincere detestation, and when by the shooting at o­thers, to make it dart more deepely at ones owne bosome, if there appeare some amends, with endeavours and hopes of further pro­gresse, it deserves somewhat more then meer toleration.

For Tenents of Reli­gion a negative dissimu­lation (that is the fit­test [Page 128] name I can give that) which soberly con­ceales them, where there is not a place fit to indure their venting, and no probability of dispersing them; it will surely be appro­ved by any moderate judgement. But a posi­tive confession (though not cordiall) is meere­ly damnable; so deare ought truth to be to us that we ought to post-habite our lives to the smallest princi­ple of it; yet some time winding up to high may make it fall [Page 129] asunder; as he is a mad-man that will suf­fer preposterous zeal to carry him to an unsea­sonable profession; so is he a weake man that when he is called will not avouch it.

Though God doth not ordaine and strengthen every man to Martyrdome, yet ought every man to propose to himselfe to be a Martyr.

Illusory deceits may not bee done though to a good end; for this is e­vill that good may [Page 130] come of it; me thinks, an aright conscience may tremble even at a jesting lye;Mendaci­um joco­sum. he bid not make a shew of any thing that is unlawfull to doe, that bid shun not onely evill but the appearance.

Of Recreations. X.

THe most artifici­all running descant continued too long, will at length wax te­dious even to the vul­gar; [Page 134] tis so with Plea­sures, the most various and exquisite after some continuance grow nau­seous to them that most greedily desired them; They being altogether like civet, smell at the lump unsavory and ful­some, by drams sweet and pleasant; we should use them as Phy­sick with praescription, or (being on our Jour­ney) as Travelers baite onely at Them, and like Dogs at Nilus touch and be gone for feare of Crocodiles, re­membring they are but [Page 132] Gourds, and carry a Worme in the Roote. So used, they sweetly Checquer our imploy­ments and steale from us all thoughts of Irk­somenesse, and may be in their use as com­modable as labour it selfe; for the minde having stood long cen­tinell upon serious Thoughts, becomes at length sluggish, like a Bow continued bent; if shee bee not slack­ned with some plea­sant Relaxation. Pain­ters take a good course with their eyes, draw [Page 133] them off the Table to let them recreate and recollect themselves a while on some delight­some Greene; other­wise they would grow dim and weake; the like would bee done with the spirits, which still ingaged on hard imployments, grow listlesse and flag, and can onely flutter not fly; hence Booke­wormes, whose heads being the Tombes of so many brave Writers, might well be suppo­sed animate libraries, while they converse [Page 134] with the dead, become in a manner dead them­selves, and like dream­ing Dogs they retaine onely some confus'd notions, which by Hete­rogeneous mixtures be­get armies of Chimera's that like Cadmus soul­diers fall a quarrelling among themselves; and truly how should they not bee opplete with grosse humours, when they want evacu­ation? well might they be compared to unpo­lisht Statues, at the first graving rough-hewn, and formelesse, which levi­gated [Page 135] by the file may become peeces of per­fection. This casts an aspersion upon learn­ing that it enervates men for high imploy­ments, when indeed it is the best Thread to bee directed by in such labyrinths; the best compasse to sayle by in such Aegaeum's; what else was the mea­ning of Plato's Philo­sophante Rege, Reg­nante Philosopho; dis­joyned, the one may doe hee knowes not what: the other know what to doe, but un­powerfull [Page 136] to act, united make up a personage fit to move in the highest Sphee [...]; but re­creations carry in their tayls some cautions; else they recede from themselves and are pre­cipitated into crimes; let them not bee such as come within the cognizance, of the Law and drag danger along; harmelesse, not Amphi­theater sports, not jests empoysoned with bitter­nesse, and needle-point­ed, that will draw blood aswell out of, as into the cheeks; Sea­sonable, [Page 137] otherwise they will make vast Ruptures in time, and become imployments: frugall, otherwise you may die by a laughing dis­ease; moderate, for that were to adde drunken­nesse to thirst; generous, such as may reinforce a vivacity in the Spi­rits, instill some re­past of profit into the minde; civill, that they may not commit a rape upon the Soule; easy, for if puzling, they become burthens, and this would cause mee to dislike Chesse, [Page 138] because those abstractions of the senses be­stowed on a game of it, might bee farre more usefully imploy­ed: I might add se­lection of company by it selfe. This caution would also bee layd downe, you bee not bewitched with any pleasure; for so it wil ingrosse you wholy, and hardly suffer you to disingage. Thus may you touch with­out harme, handle the Serpent Pleasure, and bereave her of her sting; but I verely [Page 139] believe History can shew us as few exam­ples of this kinde as of any morall virtue; Of those I have met with these two most de­serve an Asteriske, the two Africani, Major, and Minor; the Grand­father, and Nephew who though hee were an Aemilian was ingrafted on the stocke of the Carnelians; The first by that memorable speeeh of his Nunquam minus solus quam cum solus, nunquam minus otiosus quam cum otio­sus, Shewes he knew to [Page 140] to set a value on his minutes; and a Law on his thoughts, and one thus parsimonious cannot but bee very rich in masculine virtues: Th'other by that Elogy of Vellejus Paterculus, Nemo elegantius negoti­orum intervallo otia dis­punxit, tells hee was adopted to the man­ners of the Scipio's, as well as Name, and that hee was an excel­lent man as well as a Captaine; And trode up the stairs of vertue to the Capitol of ho­nour, so that his law­rell [Page 141] might well grow out of the ruines of two so great and fa­mous Cities as Carthage and Numantia. Since I am thus farre I care not much to speake my conceptions of some of these sports most common in use.

Hunting is very magnificent, and a sport for Princes (and it may be noted that more of them have bestow­ed themselves on this then any other, nay some of them even to excesse, as our two Williams, Pope Leo, &c.) [Page 142] It inures the body to travell, being as Oppian calls it a [...]. counterfeit of War, & by it doth Xeno­phon discover the genius of his Cyrus. The fable might seeme to have from hence his Origi­nall, Adonis a delicate youth, Venus owne darling slaine by a Boare; 'twas anciently practised on the most fierce Savages, as well by the Kings of Persia (who tooke singular delight therein) as in the Spectiles and sports at Rome; but now it is reduced almost only [Page 143] to timerous creatures, for whom nature hath provided no other de­fence but flight, yet as it is, there is nothing lesse in it then Idlenesse.

Hawking, which is but Aeriall hunting, cannot challenge the antiquity of the for­mer; it is not for mean persons, yet a gene­rous exercise, as well for variety of depraeda­tors as preys. Fishing is a melancholy exer­cise, yet is there more stirring with the fly then baite; there might be many pretty inventi­ons [Page 144] of baits, every ri­ver commonly enter­taining one more pecu­liar Fish, w^ch would re­quire a particular bait.

Tennis is a vio­lent sport, there is much activity required in it; tis somewhat strange that this age bringeth forth so many fine wits; none hath honoured it in the like manner as Vida hath done Chesse, Thuanus Hawking, and Natales Comes Hunting.

Shittle-cock requires a nimble arme, with a quick and waking eye; [Page 145] 'twere fit for Students, and not so vehement as that waving of a stoolè so commended by Les­sius.

Wrastling seemes to grow out of use; tis of ancient standing, as may be seene in Homer and Virgill; Prizes there were for it in the Olympicks, neither was it unpractised by the Roman Souldiery; veri­ly it conduces both ad robur & sanitatem, and will admit of the advantage of sleight, and might more com­mend it selfe by more [Page 146] frequent practise.

Bowling exerciseth proportionably all the parts, and that mildely; he is like to be most exquisite in it, that can make his hand obey the judgement of his eye.

Shooting with the Arrow of a private exercise, may be ve­ry advantageous to the publique; many Na­tions have hardly knowne any other weapons, or at least not bin skil'd in them, as the Paleares, the Par­thians whose arrowes [Page 147] sheilded them against the Roman greatnesse; yea the nerves of this Nation have some­times been in her bow­strings; What raised the Turk to such a height, but his excel­lent Archers? tis an injury they are jusled out by Guns so whol­ly; whether upon good grounds hath been hot­ly disputed; we con­sider them onely as an exercise, and so they are every deale as ple­sant as healthfull.

The traverses at Chesse are exceeding [Page 148] laborious, yet they may be recompenced with the pleasure of so many furious encoun­ters, plots, and justlings which come nearest the broyles of waspish men.

Tis not proper here to speake of the Law­fulnesse of sortelegi­ous Games; Dice have beene used by many great men as Claudius the Emperour, who writ a Booke of it, Domitian, Theodorick King of the Goths too liberally; yet cannot that justifie private [Page 149] practise. The Incon­stancy of Irish, fitly represents the change­ablenesse of humane occurrences, since it e­ver stands so fickle, that one malignant throw can quite ruine a never so well built Game; Art hath here a great sway, by reason if one cannot well stand the first as­sault, hee may safely retire backe to an after game.

Tick-Tack sets a mans intentions on their guard; errors in this and war can be but once amended.

[Page 150]For Cardes, the phi­lologie of them is not for an ESSAY; a mans fancy would be sum'd up in cribbidge; Gleeke requires a vi­gilant memory; Maw a pregnant agility; Pich­et a various invention; Primero a dexterous kinde of rashnesse, &c. sed manum de Tabula, I make an imployment of a Recreation.

Of Warre. XI.

WArre is the Phlebotomy of the Body Politique, which sometimes in taking away superfluous hu­mours brings it into a consumption; 'Tis Gods scourge of a people, whether he whip them by them­selves or a forraigne e­nimy.

Civill warres are e­ver most cruell, Par­ties [Page 152] being most incens'd, and fighting either out of despaire or revenge, there is in them the best roome to exercise pri­vate malice. The con­querour, though pride and petulancy are inse­parable companions of victory) more insul­ting and scarce putting up the Sword when there is not an enemy for to draw it against, as being most insecure; these that have assisted, if displeased, being as powerfull to his hurt, (in that back't with followers and alliances) [Page 153] and with difficulty re­taind, when they see not their expectation in the reformation of a State, (as domestique jarres have ever such pretences, not meanings) and hopes of rewards fully satisfied, nay, o­ver-estimating their merits, they are apt to fall off at the least in­dignity; as was evi­dent in Richard Earle of Warwick, who dis­tasting Edward the fourths marriage, be­cause himselfe had bin employed in France a­bout another match, [Page 154] revolted, unking'd him, though he was the prime instrument to set him in the Throne; and suffered his malice never to period till he had made his life a sa­crifice to it; neither is any warre so long spun out, although they have breathing inter­vals: oppressed facti­ons when they seeme utterly extinct, glea­ning themselves into a head (being assisted what with pitty of their present lownesse, what with envy that at­tends the prevailing [Page 155] party) growing to o­vertop the other, and perhaps they them­selves after breaking into two; as Augustus and Antonius, when they had destroyed the murtherers of Cae­sar, fell out between themselves; neither could any mediation so soder them but it ended with one of their ru­ines. Warre of neigh­bouring States, whe­ther begun out of jea­lousie (as there is both reason and precedent for preventive warres) harbouring one ano­thers [Page 156] fugitives, or any other politick cause, are after two or three fields easily suspended with short truces; e­specially if the one par­ty have not gained of the other, but if there bee some inequality, matters are husht a while in a necessitated peace.

Those who have lit­tle or nothing of their owne, gaine by dis­cords, the losse falling on their side who are most full and best able; to prosecute a victory too farre on a broken [Page 157] enemy, is to teach him to be desperate, and make him obtaine what hee could not have hop't for, a bettering of his condition; a no­table example of this, was Charles Duke of Burgundy, who by pres­sing too hard upon the broken Swysses, lost first a field to them, and after his life.

Those States whom providence designes for burthens of the World, and devourers of con­fining Countries, (such as that old Roman State and the modern Otto­mons) [Page 158] though they may be resisted with much courage, resoluti­on and pertinacy, yet at the last doe over­weigh, as did the Ro­mans over us here in England, and them in Spaine; for overpel­ling with renewed for­ces and succours, they leave the Conquered no other solace in their ru­ines, then the glory of the continuance of their resistance. That money is the sinnewes, nay the vitall spirits of warre, is acknowled­ged by all, it being [Page 159] impossible to preserve discipline in an unpaide Army; but when the Souldier growes full, he growes withall wan­ton; learnes to discon­tinue military hard­nesse; is ready to for­sake his colours; so that Gold which many times makes a Souldi­er, againe marrs him. A Generall is the heart, as well as the head of an Army; and hath need of a working braine, as a strong arme; secret should he be in his de­signes, Saturnine in consulting, and Mercu­riall [Page 160] in acting, comming on his enemy like the hammer on an anvill, touch it before wee see it strike, not like the discharging of a Can­non, to send forth a flame before the erup­tion of the bullet; se­vere to punish even prosperous disorders, and succesfull disobe­diences, as but meere connivances of fortune; strict in exacting the duties of the Souldiery, as Creatures better commanded with feare then love; industrious, and rather leading in [Page 161] labours then dan­gers, (the person of a Generall being different from that of a Souldier) valuing his Countries glory above his own, and his owne above his life, neither steal­ing honour nor force­ing it, not refusing a triumph because of a sharer, nor fainting under the weight of businesse, when there are no other shoulders but his own; carry­ing alwayes a fixt spi­rit, which will neither shrinke under the sud­dennesse nor weight of [Page 162] any danger, gratefully acknowlegding him that conducts him through all difficulties, and wishing rather to perish then to attribute any thing whatsoever to himselfe. The modern Militia differs much from the ancient, there being in it more roome for stratagems then personall valour; yet are not pitcht bat­tailes so bloody as be­fore, whether it be that smoke gives bet­ter assistance to flight, or that they doe not close as before, or that [Page 163] order is not so entirely preserv'd, and Batta­lias are sooner broken; this is certaine that conflicts are not pro­tracted to that length as before, but Victory doth sooner cast the Ballance.

Of all Nations whose remembrance time hath preserved to us, those two States of Greece and Rome did most excell in the art of War, whether the Tactick or the Strata­gematick part; both which may be sayd to be in a manner lost, yet [Page 164] do they somewhat re­flourish in the practice of the Low-Countries, which may be assigned as one serecondary cause of their long resistance of the Spaniard.

Of Religion. XII.

IF men could have been without Religi­on, Superstition had ne­ver bin molded into so many monstrous shapes; could casuality have performed it, tis strange if among such varie­ty none had hit; could succession of time have refined any into a good one, it had beene done in so long continuance; but suc­ceeding Ages, ren­ded [Page 166] them still more fae­culent: could nature have lent any light; The most elevate Heathens had seene somewhat, but it was all they could doe to get a sight of the dim prin­ciples of Reason; but without God who was the Author of Reli­gion, it was impossible, the widest soule being too narrow to Receive him, unlesse hee were pleased to shoot in a few beames of him­selfe at some crevices, and were pleased to teach what hee was [Page 167] (though Man could never perfectly learne) and how hee would bee worshipt, though Man could never doe him compleate ho­mage.

To prove Religion by reason, is like those tricks, which before performance seeme im­possible, after, contemp­tible; one of them was that of Columbus, 8 Lips. Praelante Critic. in setting an Egge upright: when our hearts are once pos­sest of the truth of it, it seemes nothing, but a sublimated and re­fin'd [Page 168] Reason; but did Reason ever perswade it to any heart, or Antidote it, against A­postacy? Wee must professe our ignorance of any; Those prety naturall Discourses and Arguments, with many both old and new Lu­minaries of Learning found out, shew, that they could rather fight with their enemies, then ore-come them.

For the Ancients that encountered with hea­thenisme at push of Pikes, they could bet­ter lay open, the va­nity [Page 169] of the other, then assert the truth of their owne; The best ser­vice they did was to unteach the people their Idolatry, that they might bee the better capable of true devotion, and bring them from a by-path; but they could onely set their faces towards (and point at) the true.

For the Moderns, they have had to doe either with Jewes, Turkes, or Barba­rians; The first (were they not so obstinate) [Page 170] are the best to deale with, by reason they grant us one side of our two edged Sword; The maine is in applying the Prophesies, and manifestation of the Messiah, in which GOD himself must either in­terpose, or they will never see him whom they have peirced; that being now Chaffe which the winde drives to and fro from the face of the Earth, they may not be burnt in unquenchable fire.

For the second, the ground where it [Page 171] thrives must be Plowd with Cymiters, Sowd with Carcasses, and watered with Bloud, so that it is not like­ly that verball instru­ments will be able to eradicate this pestilent darnell.

For the last, they are of so many climes, and praepossessions, that little can bee said in generall; onely this, that the savagenes of the Spaniards in America shewed that they are sooner flattered then threatned into better notions, and the In­nocency [Page 172] of those that have not much ming­led with others, seemes to promise some Fa­ciliation; But whe­ther the sedulity of the Jesuits in those parts hath beene a meanes of preparing or obstruct­ing them to Protestan­tisme, is onely known to him whose incom­prehensible wisdome it was to reserve their discovery to these last Times.

Tis handsomely ob­served, that the maine of other Religions ne­ver gained by Chri­stianity, [Page 173] since she carried before her the light of the World; they, fuliginous Torches of error: since her God came like a Shepheard, theirs like Roarers: she required the more difficult part of worship, internall; the other onely cor­poreall; that no won­der if the Roman Se­nate did not admit Christ into the Pantheon— but they were more aware then they thought of: since His Presence might have caused the rest to fall, his crying formerly struck them [Page 174] dumb. Were it not there is a great hand and eye, and a consci­ence, that can sting and whisper, Religi­on would doe a great deale of hurt in Poli­cy, because she pini­ons Men, whereas A­theists have their armes loose, and neede ne­ver be opposed with that empty name of Equity, which ought much to regulate him who remembers that hee stands accomptable: whereas tis easy for him to bee an excel­lent Polititian that [Page 175] can brawne his Con­science, that it bee not peirceable by any pricks: or so ore-master it, that it cannot cry when it is prickt, and so still it that it cannot continue when it shall cry.

For Atheists, (as hee spoke of the Scep­ticks) tis better to tell what they thinke not, then what they thinke; They are milder op­posers then the blinde superstitious, as think­ing Religion an enemy only worth the jeer­ing; Tis questioned, [Page 176] whether there be any such really or no; divines say tis extra, non intra; aliis, non sibi; miser­able are they (if any) whose hearts tell them the contrary.

The Ascension of causes to one supreame, for Reason; and the Energy of nature, for sence, best confutes them; the one calls home their wandering senses, the other com­poses them.

False Religions gain most by violence, the true by opposition; gawdy best please the simple, [Page 177] decent the wise; loose ones best please Naturall Men; strict ones, good­men.

Of Rewards. XII.

GReat Persons stand for Imitation, les­ser for Observation: Man is led by nothing better then Example; and Examples of Great ones, are most effectuall; they have both a great influence on manners; and Men suppose there easiliest to finde a Reward, [Page 178] where there is a con­formity of carriage. Rewards ever beget proportionable endea­vours; passing by de­serts doth but extin­guish them; feede a Lampe with competent Oyle, it will yeeld a sufficient light; deny it nourishment and it dyes; every one is not sufficiently satisfyed with the applause of his owne Conscience in doing well, but would looke for some exter­nall advantage. What more honorable then to dye for ones Coun­try? [Page 179] yet I dare say the Decii themselves had thoughts of glory. What morall man did ever so extenuate wealth, and spoke so goodly sentences in com­mendatiō of poverty as Seneca? yet his Admirer Lipsius can make Re­port, what an estate he scrapt together un­der his Scholer Nero: so powerfull are incou­ragements over the endeavours of Men. Munificency conduceth much to the glory and greatnesse of Princes but should hold proportion [Page 180] with their Treasuries, and the parties whom it falls upon; heaping too much upon one, (perhaps of meaner merits) while another that hath performed more singular services is passed by, is a way to banish vertue out of the VVorld, and introduce envy and factions into the Court.

There is no better meanes to discover the abilities of a Prince, then by his Ministers of State; it both shewes whether he know how [Page 181] to pick them out, and whether he know how to make use of them, when hee hath chosen them. Lewes the eleventh of France was excellent in this, and would spare for no Reward (though hee were coveteous be­low the decorum of a King) to one whom hee thought would prove a convenient instrument for his pur­pose.

Some wisest Mo­narchs have sedulously noted the deserts of their servants; no [Page 182] doubt a wise course, and such a one as may keepe their hands stea­dy in dispencing of their bounty.

Those who have many attendants, must not thinke to feede them by pecuniary lar­gesses, which will be soone out of minde, and make the other still gaping after renewed liberty; but should be rather free of their countenance then purse, which as it cannot be inexhaustible; so if im­moderatly drain'd must be supplyed by some [Page 183] unlawfull meanes. In a word, Rewards ought not to exceede t [...]e me­rits of him they are confer'd on, nor the abi­lity of him that confers them.

Of Fables. XIII.

AS Parrhasius limnd a Veile with such happinesse, that his Corrivall would have drawne it aside to see what it covered; such are the Fables of Po­ets; wee suppose they shadow some­what, but finde No­thing. To shape every one of them to a Morall were all one [Page 185] as to force every Picture to an Emblem-and with Pictures they hold a great Analogy; Some are rough drawne and shew best at dis­tance, some are smooth and admit a nearer survay; Some Tougher Inventions best please at a carelesse perusall; Others more finely wrought after a curi­ous enquiry, best comply with the Fan­cy; small peeces best commend themselves through a Magnifying Glasse; greater, in a Shaddow; short Fables [Page 186] become Amplificati­ons, longer would be somewhat wound up; Antick worke plea­seth with its absurdi­ty, Historicall by its Jmitation; some sto­ries delight more by their further reced­ing from, some by their nearer approach­ing to the truth; So Picture is nothing but Poesie in Colours, and Poesie onely Picture in black and white; both of them, skrue and winde up the imagi­nation, and give most life to Passions and [Page 187] Receive the best Or­nament from them; but it is hight of Art in both; which, who so hath attained, can withall command a­nothers Eye, or Coun­tenance. Landskapps and fine Descriptions doe dilate and enlarge the Eye, but the dexter­ous Characterizing of a thought in the face attracts and fixes it.

Where many Rela­tions are to bee knit up in one series, it shewes excellent cun­ning to joyne them [Page 188] without a Seame. Ovids Metamorphoses speake him extreame happy in this, in that hee hath so quaintly knit so many various rela­tions, that they are indeed but one entire body, whereas Ario­sto will interruptly shake hands with the Reader, at halfe a Tales end and wrest his Attention to a new bu­sinesse.

That Fabling is no lying, may easily bee granted, since Divines will acknowledge it is but truth apparelled [Page 189] like a fiction; things by this meanes doe more slily drop into the minds of Men, espe­cially the vulgar, who will bee best led by things that come nea­rest the Sense; This made Morality assume the shapes of Rationall beasts, speaking woods, Articulate Birds; this I conceive hath made the Aeygptians, want­ing the use of Let­ters, flie to Hierogly­phicks; or to speake out, what hath caused so many Anthropo­pathies, and Allegories [Page 190] in the holy Scrip­ture?

As they are usefull this way, so are they dangerous if they bee prophane, and indis­creetly tampering with Dieties; 'tis a ble­mish of the Prince of Poets in assigning so unfitting parts to his deathlesse and bloodlesse (that is all hee can make of them) Men, making Counterscuffles in Olympus, bringing his Iove one time ram­bling, another time cheated with a sleepy drinke, other while [Page 191] bound; Juno jealous, Venus wounded, and such kinde of Ribal­dry, that young wits may easily draw in Atheisme, or Polytheis­me like Poyson in a perfume; And why may not dealing in such Wares make Poetasters so chill in their Reli­gion, nay render them so profane? why may not their Poverty and Contempt bee a just Re­ward of Heaven, that though singing cleare their Chests, it can ne­ver fill their bellies, or warme their Backs; [Page 192] Canta larana (sayes the Spaniard) y no tein peil nilana.

But this is digres­sive; That foolery (to name it best) of Ho­mer procured his ba­nishment out of Pla­to's Common-Wealth, though Plato by his practice shewed the high estimation hee had of Poetry; yet though Homer bee most guil­ty, [Page 193] few there are of the other Poets that can stand cleere; but it is observable these Inventions are most quick, fine, and full of life, wherein there doe not intervene any other persons but mor­tall.

Nor would Stories bee lascivious, no drug so powerfull to pro­voke Lust, they be­ing speculative filth, and contemplative wan­tonnesse, which wound the soule deeper, be­cause they doe sur­prise her unguarded; [Page 194] how uncleane have the Heathens beene in that they shamed Heaven it selfe, with such pollution, ‘In Caelo est meretrix, in Caelo est turpis adu [...];’

And honoured such high Crimes with no worse Monuments then Asterismes? how ill have many Moderns, as well as Ancients deserved in making Poetry their Baude and Limners to make their Tables the In­terpreters, [Page 195] nay the Pro­moters of lewdenesse? One example may bee Chaerea in Terence, beholding Jove turn­ing himselfe into a bribe, to gaine Danae. Egomet quoque id spect­are caepi, & quia con similem luserat jam olim ille ludum—Ego Homuncio hoc non fa­cerem?

There hath beene a great deale of Rich Fancy lost in frothy Love-Stories, and fantasticall Chimera's, which had it beene bestowed on some [Page 196] rare Idaeas, might have beene altogether as profitable and delight­some as they are now hurtfull; what rare Common-wealths have beene molded, by Sir Thomas Moore, Cam­panella, &c. What a stupendious Fabrick of a College for Na­ture, hath great Saint Albanes reard; how hath Barclay layd open the distempers of a surfeting State Xene­phon the Vertues of an excellent Captain?

Tis a delicate In­vention, that of Master [Page 197] Howell, wherein hee turnes Europe into a Grove, and among the Thickets Satyrizes an exact History; tis wholy new; nor can Antiquity shew the like; and might be much promoted, if some re­fin'd wits would per­forme the like on o­ther Peeces of Na­ture, since Beasts, or Birds might as well act such parts as Trees.

We will take a short view of Poetry, since it hath such Relation to Fables, that it [Page 198] may bee a Question whether Poetry be­get Fables, or Fables Poetry; it is a sweete kinde of madnesse, which yet argues an Harmonious soule, Doctri­uae tanquam Somnium, (sayes that Prodigy of Literature) Res dul­cis & varia, & vo­lens in se aliquid ha­bere Divini quod etiam Somnia vendicant; tis too high for a Recre­ation, and too sleight for an imployment; where it meetes with a pronesse of Na­ture, very bewitching, [Page 199] and not easily avoyded, but it will make In­rodes into serious and great employments, as in King, Iames, Pius the second who was a Poer Laureat, Ʋr­ban the Eight, the Cardinals Bembo and Peron, and Sir Philip Sydney, his compa­nion the Lord Brooke, The Earle of Strivel­ing and others; this excellency it hath, that it both makes and formes its owne mat­ter, and is as bound­lesse as the imagination of Man.

[Page 200]Epick Straines lift the Soule into high conceptions of vertue, and Glory; Lyrick lull it asleepe with plea­sure; Elegaick melt it with Sorrow and pi­ty; Satyrick stir up hate against Vice, and sometimes teach it, which makes their writings of an Ambi­guous Nature; Lubin protests there is more Morality in one Sa­tyre of Iuvenal, then in the ten Bookes of Aristotle to Nichoma­chus; Scaliger cryes out of him as not fit for Christian ears.

[Page 201]Every one that can make words dance in Numbers (there may be a Poem too in Prose) is not a Poet, but onely These that raise them­selves to such a pitch that they are inaccessible by future imitation; and in this sense hee spake truly that sayd, E­very Age hath scarce pro­duc'd a Poet.