{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_586/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_586","id":"gutenberg_586","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/586","summary":null,"tags":["Banned Books from Anne Haight's list","Category: British Literature","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian ethics","Christian life","Essays","Funeral rites and ceremonies","Harvard Classics","Medical ethics","Medicine -- History","Religion and medicine"],"text":"Produced by Henry Flower and Judith Boss, Omaha, Nebraska\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\n\nThe printed text contained both footnotes and endnotes. These have\nbeen renumbered in continuous series of letters and Arabic numerals\nrespectively.\n\nCorrected errata are listed at the end of the text.\n\nThe following List of Contents has been added by the transcriber:\n\n  RELIGIO MEDICI\n  HYDRIOTAPHIA\n  A LETTER TO A FRIEND\n  NOTES TO THE RELIGIO MEDICI\n  NOTES TO HYDRIOTAPHIA\n  NOTES TO LETTER TO A FRIEND\n\n\n\n\nRELIGIO MEDICI.\n\n\n\n\n_RELIGIO MEDICI_,\n\nHYDRIOTAPHIA, AND THE LETTER TO A FRIEND.\n\nBY\n\nSIR THOMAS BROWNE, KNT.\n\nWITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY\n\nJ. W. WILLIS BUND, M.A., LL.B.,\n\nGONVILLE AND CAIUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,\n\nOF LINCOLN\u2019S INN, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.\n\nLONDON:\n\nSAMPSON LOW, SON, AND MARSTON,\n\nCROWN BUILDINGS, 188 FLEET STREET.\n\n1869.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nSIR THOMAS BROWNE (whose works occupy so prominent a position in the\nliterary history of the seventeenth century) is an author who is now\nlittle known and less read. This comparative oblivion to which he has\nbeen consigned is the more remarkable, as, if for nothing else, his\nwritings deserve to be studied as an example of the English language\nin what may be termed a transition state. The prose of the Elizabethan\nage was beginning to pass away and give place to a more inflated style\nof writing--a style which, after passing through various stages of\ndevelopment, culminated in that of Johnson.\n\nBrowne is one of the best early examples of this school; his style,\nto quote Johnson himself, \u201cis vigorous but rugged, it is learned but\npedantick, it is deep but obscure, it strikes but does not please, it\ncommands but does not allure. . . . It is a tissue of many languages, a\nmixture of heterogeneous words brought together from distant regions.\u201d\n\nYet in spite of this qualified censure, there are passages in Browne\u2019s\nworks not inferior to any in the English language; and though his\nwritings may not be \u201ca well of English undefiled,\u201d yet it is the very\ndefilements that add to the beauty of the work.\n\nBut it is not only as an example of literary style that Browne deserves\nto be studied. The matter of his works, the grandeur of his ideas, the\noriginality of his thoughts, the greatness of his charity, amply make\nup for the deficiencies (if deficiencies there be) in his style. An\nauthor who combined the wit of Montaigne with the learning of Erasmus,\nand of whom even Hallam could say that \u201chis varied talents wanted\nnothing but the controlling supremacy of good sense to place him in the\nhighest rank of our literature,\u201d should not be suffered to remain in\nobscurity.\n\nA short account of his life will form the best introduction to his\nworks.\n\nSir Thomas Browne was born in London, in the parish of St Michael le\nQuern, on the 19th of October 1605. His father was a London merchant,\nof a good Cheshire family; and his mother a Sussex lady, daughter of Mr\nPaul Garraway of Lewis. His father died when he was very young, and his\nmother marrying again shortly afterwards, Browne was left to the care\nof his guardians, one of whom is said to have defrauded him out of some\nof his property. He was educated at Winchester, and afterwards sent\nto Oxford, to what is now Pembroke College, where he took his degree\nof M.A. in 1629. Thereupon he commenced for a short time to practise\nas a physician in Oxfordshire. But we soon find him growing tired of\nthis, and accompanying his father-in-law, Sir Thomas Dutton, on a\ntour of inspection of the castles and forts in Ireland. We next hear\nof Browne in the south of France, at Montpellier, then a celebrated\nschool of medicine, where he seems to have studied some little time.\nFrom there he proceeded to Padua, one of the most famous of the Italian\nuniversities, and noted for the views some of its members held on the\nsubjects of astronomy and necromancy. During his residence here, Browne\ndoubtless acquired some of his peculiar ideas on the science of the\nheavens and the black art, and, what was more important, he learnt to\nregard the Romanists with that abundant charity we find throughout his\nworks. From Padua, Browne went to Leyden, and this sudden change from\na most bigoted Roman Catholic to a most bigoted Protestant country\nwas not without its effect on his mind, as can be traced in his book.\nHere he took the degree of Doctor of Medicine, and shortly afterwards\nreturned to England. Soon after his return, about the year 1635, he\npublished his \u201cReligio Medici,\u201d his first and greatest work, which\nmay be fairly regarded as the reflection of the mind of one who, in\nspite of a strong intellect and vast erudition, was still prone to\nsuperstition, but having\n\n            \u201cThrough many cities strayed,\n    Their customs, laws, and manners weighed,\u201d\n\nhad obtained too large views of mankind to become a bigot.\n\nAfter the publication of his book he settled at Norwich, where he soon\nhad an extensive practice as a physician. From hence there remains\nlittle to be told of his life. In 1637 he was incorporated Doctor of\nMedicine at Oxford; and in 1641 he married Dorothy the daughter of\nEdward Mileham, of Burlingham in Norfolk, and had by her a family of\neleven children.\n\nIn 1646 he published his \u201cPseudodoxia Epidemica,\u201d or Enquiries into\nVulgar Errors. The discovery of some Roman urns at Burnham in Norfolk,\nled him in 1658 to write his \u201cHydriotaphia\u201d (Urn-burial); he also\npublished at the same time \u201cThe Garden of Cyrus, or the Quincunxcial\nLozenge of the Ancients,\u201d a curious work, but far inferior to his other\nproductions.\n\nIn 1665 he was elected an honorary Fellow of the College of Physicians,\n\u201cvirtute et literis ornatissimus.\u201d\n\nBrowne had always been a Royalist. In 1643 he had refused to subscribe\nto the fund that was then being raised for regaining Newcastle. He\nproved a happy exception to the almost proverbial neglect the Royalists\nreceived from Charles II. in 1671, for when Charles was at Newmarket,\nhe came over to see Norwich, and conferred the honour of knighthood\non Browne. His reputation was now very great. Evelyn paid a visit to\nNorwich for the express purpose of seeing him; and at length, on his\n76th birthday (19th October 1682), he died, full of years and honours.\n\nIt was a striking coincidence that he who in his Letter to a Friend\nhad said that \u201cin persons who outlive many years, and when there are\nno less than 365 days to determine their lives in every year, that\nthe first day should mark the last, that the tail of the snake should\nreturn into its mouth precisely at that time, and that they should wind\nup upon the day of their nativity, is indeed a remarkable coincidence,\nwhich, though astrology hath taken witty pains to solve, yet hath it\nbeen very wary in making predictions of it,\u201d should himself die on the\nday of his birth.\n\nBrowne was buried in the church of St Peter, Mancroft, Norwich, where\nhis wife erected to his memory a mural monument, on which was placed\nan English and Latin inscription, setting forth that he was the author\nof \u201cReligio Medici,\u201d \u201cPseudodoxia Epidemica,\u201d and other learned works\n\u201cper orbem notissimus.\u201d Yet his sleep was not to be undisturbed; his\nskull was fated to adorn a museum! In 1840, while some workmen were\ndigging a vault in the chancel of St Peter\u2019s, they found a coffin with\nan inscription--\n\n  \u201cAmplissimus Vir\n  D^{us} Thomas Browne Miles Medicin\u00e6\n  D^r Annis Natus 77 Denatus 19 Die\n  Mensis Octobris Anno D^{nj} 1682 hoc.\n  Loculo indormiens Corporis Spagyrici\n  pulvere plumbum in aurum\n  convertit.\u201d\n\nThe translation of this inscription raised a storm over his ashes,\nwhich Browne would have enjoyed partaking in, the word _spagyricus_\nbeing an enigma to scholars. Mr Firth of Norwich (whose translation\nseems the best) thus renders the inscription:--\n\n \u201cThe very distinguished man, Sir Thomas Browne, Knight, Doctor of\n Medicine, aged 77 years, who died on the 19th of October, in the year\n of our Lord 1682, sleeping in this coffin of lead, by the dust of his\n alchemic body, transmutes it into a coffer of gold.\u201d\n\nAfter Sir Thomas\u2019s death, two collections of his works were published,\none by Archbishop Tenison, and the other in 1772. They contain most\nof his letters, his tracts on various subjects, and his Letter to a\nFriend. Various editions of parts of Browne\u2019s works have from time to\ntime appeared. By far the best edition of the whole of them is that\npublished by Simon Wilkin.\n\nIt is upon his \u201cReligio Medici\u201d--the religion of a physician--that\nBrowne\u2019s fame chiefly rests. It was his first and most celebrated work,\npublished just after his return from his travels; it gives us the\nimpressions made on his mind by the various and opposite schools he had\npassed through. He tells us that he never intended to publish it, but\nthat on its being surreptitiously printed, he was induced to do so. In\n1643, the first genuine edition appeared, with \u201can admonition to such\nas shall peruse the observations upon a former corrupt copy of this\nbook.\u201d The observations here alluded to, were written by Sir Kenelm\nDigby, and sent by him to the Earl of Dorset. They were first printed\nat the end of the edition of 1643, and have ever since been published\nwith the book. Their chief merit consists in the marvellous rapidity\nwith which they were written, Sir Kenelm having, as he tells us, bought\nthe book, read it, and written his observations, in the course of\ntwenty-four hours!\n\nThe book contains what may be termed an apology for his belief. He\nstates the reasons on which he grounds his opinions, and endeavours\nto show that, although he had been accused of atheism, he was in all\npoints a good Christian, and a loyal member of the Church of England.\nEach person must judge for himself of his success; but the effect it\nproduced on the mind of Johnson may be noticed. \u201cThe opinions of every\nman,\u201d says he, \u201cmust be learned from himself; concerning his practice,\nit is safer to trust to the evidence of others. When the testimonies\nconcur, no higher degree of historical certainty can be obtained; and\nthey apparently concur to prove that Browne was a zealous adherent to\nthe faith of Christ, that he lived in obedience to His laws, and died\nin confidence of His mercy.\u201d\n\nThe best proof of the excellence of the \u201cReligio\u201d is to be found in\nits great success. During the author\u2019s life, from 1643 to 1681, it\npassed through eleven editions. It has been translated into Latin,\nDutch, French, and German, and many of the translations have passed\nthrough several editions. No less than thirty-three treatises have been\nwritten in imitation of it; and what, to some, will be the greatest\nproof of all, it was soon after its publication placed in the Index\nExpurgatorius. The best proof of its liberality of sentiment is in the\nfact that its author was claimed at the same time by the Romanists and\nQuakers to be a member of their respective creeds!\n\nThe \u201cHydriotaphia,\u201d or Urn-burial, is a treatise on the funeral rites\nof ancient nations. It was caused by the discovery of some Roman urns\nin Norfolk. Though inferior to the \u201cReligio,\u201d \u201cthere is perhaps none of\nhis works which better exemplifies his reading or memory.\u201d\n\nThe text of the present edition of the \u201cReligio Medici\u201d is taken from\nwhat is called the eighth edition, but is in reality the eleventh,\npublished in London in 1682, the last edition in the author\u2019s lifetime.\nThe notes are for the most part compiled from the observations of Sir\nKenelm Digby, the annotation of Mr. Keck, and the very valuable notes\nof Simon Wilkin. For the account of the finding of Sir Thomas Browne\u2019s\nskull I am indebted to Mr Friswell\u2019s notice of Sir Thomas in his\n\u201cVaria.\u201d The text of the \u201cHydriotaphia\u201d is taken from the folio edition\nof 1686, in the Lincoln\u2019s Inn library. Some of Browne\u2019s notes to that\nedition have been omitted, and most of the references, as they refer to\nbooks which are not likely to be met with by the general reader.\n\nThe \u201cLetter to a Friend, upon the occasion of the Death of his intimate\nFriend,\u201d was first published in a folio pamphlet in 1690. It was\nreprinted in his posthumous works. The concluding reflexions are the\nbasis of a larger work, \u201cChristian Morals.\u201d I am not aware of any\ncomplete modern edition of it. The text of the present one is taken\nfrom the original edition of 1690. The pamphlet is in the British\nMuseum, bound up with a volume of old poems. It is entitled, \u201cA Letter\nto a Friend, upon the occasion of the Death of his intimate Friend.\nBy the learned Sir Thomas Brown, Knight, Doctor of Physick, late of\nNorwich. London: Printed for Charles Brone, at the Gun, at the West End\nof St Paul\u2019s Churchyard, 1690.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTO THE READER.\n\n\nCERTAINLY that man were greedy of life, who should desire to live when\nall the world were at an end; and he must needs be very impatient,\nwho would repine at death in the society of all things that suffer\nunder it. Had not almost every man suffered by the press, or were not\nthe tyranny thereof become universal, I had not wanted reason for\ncomplaint: but in times wherein I have lived to behold the highest\nperversion of that excellent invention, the name of his Majesty\ndefamed, the honour of Parliament depraved, the writings of both\ndepravedly, anticipatively, counterfeitly, imprinted: complaints may\nseem ridiculous in private persons; and men of my condition may be as\nincapable of affronts, as hopeless of their reparations. And truly had\nnot the duty I owe unto the importunity of friends, and the allegiance\nI must ever acknowledge unto truth, prevailed with me; the inactivity\nof my disposition might have made these sufferings continual, and\ntime, that brings other things to light, should have satisfied me in\nthe remedy of its oblivion. But because things evidently false are\nnot only printed, but many things of truth most falsely set forth;\nin this latter I could not but think myself engaged: for, though we\nhave no power to redress the former, yet in the other reparation being\nwithin ourselves, I have at present represented unto the world a\nfull and intended copy of that piece, which was most imperfectly and\nsurreptitiously published before.\n\nThis I confess, about seven years past, with some others of affinity\nthereto, for my private exercise and satisfaction, I had at leisurable\nhours composed; which being communicated unto one, it became common\nunto many, and was by transcription successively corrupted, until it\narrived in a most depraved copy at the press. He that shall peruse\nthat work, and shall take notice of sundry particulars and personal\nexpressions therein, will easily discern the intention was not publick:\nand, being a private exercise directed to myself, what is delivered\ntherein was rather a memorial unto me, than an example or rule unto any\nother: and therefore, if there be any singularity therein correspondent\nunto the private conceptions of any man, it doth not advantage them; or\nif dissentaneous thereunto, it no way overthrows them. It was penned\nin such a place, and with such disadvantage, that (I protest), from\nthe first setting of pen unto paper, I had not the assistance of any\ngood book, whereby to promote my invention, or relieve my memory; and\ntherefore there might be many real lapses therein, which others might\ntake notice of, and more that I suspected myself. It was set down\nmany years past, and was the sense of my conceptions at that time,\nnot an immutable law unto my advancing judgment at all times; and\ntherefore there might be many things therein plausible unto my passed\napprehension, which are not agreeable unto my present self. There are\nmany things delivered rhetorically, many expressions therein merely\ntropical, and as they best illustrate my intention; and therefore also\nthere are many things to be taken in a soft and flexible sense, and\nnot to be called unto the rigid test of reason. Lastly, all that is\ncontained therein is in submission unto maturer discernments; and, as I\nhave declared, shall no further father them than the best and learned\njudgments shall authorize them: under favour of which considerations, I\nhave made its secrecy publick, and committed the truth thereof to every\ningenuous reader.\n\n  THOMAS BROWNE.\n\n\n\n\nRELIGIO MEDICI.\n\n\nSECT. 1.--For my religion, though there be several circumstances that\nmight persuade the world I have none at all,--as the general scandal of\nmy profession,[1]--the natural course of my studies,--the indifferency\nof my behaviour and discourse in matters of religion (neither violently\ndefending one, nor with that common ardour and contention opposing\nanother),--yet, in despite hereof, I dare without usurpation assume\nthe honourable style of a Christian. Not that I merely owe this title\nto the font, my education, or the clime wherein I was born, as being\nbred up either to confirm those principles my parents instilled into my\nunderstanding, or by a general consent proceed in the religion of my\ncountry; but having, in my riper years and confirmed judgment, seen and\nexamined all, I find myself obliged, by the principles of grace, and\nthe law of mine own reason, to embrace no other name but this. Neither\ndoth herein my zeal so far make me forget the general charity I owe\nunto humanity, as rather to hate than pity Turks, Infidels, and (what\nis worse) Jews; rather contenting myself to enjoy that happy style,\nthan maligning those who refuse so glorious a title.\n\n_Sect._ 2.--But, because the name of a Christian is become too general\nto express our faith,--there being a geography of religion as well\nas lands, and every clime distinguished not only by their laws and\nlimits, but circumscribed by their doctrines and rules of faith,--to\nbe particular, I am of that reformed new-cast religion, wherein I\ndislike nothing but the name; of the same belief our Saviour taught,\nthe apostles disseminated, the fathers authorized, and the martyrs\nconfirmed; but, by the sinister ends of princes, the ambition and\navarice of prelates, and the fatal corruption of times, so decayed,\nimpaired, and fallen from its native beauty, that it required the\ncareful and charitable hands of these times to restore it to its\nprimitive integrity. Now, the accidental occasion whereupon, the\nslender means whereby, the low and abject condition of the person\nby whom, so good a work was set on foot, which in our adversaries\nbeget contempt and scorn, fills me with wonder, and is the very same\nobjection the insolent pagans first cast at Christ and his disciples.\n\n_Sect._ 3.--Yet have I not so shaken hands with those desperate\nresolutions who had rather venture at large their decayed bottom,\nthan bring her in to be new-trimmed in the dock,--who had rather\npromiscuously retain all, than abridge any, and obstinately be what\nthey are, than what they have been,--as to stand in diameter and\nsword\u2019s point with them. We have reformed from them, not against them:\nfor, omitting those improperations[2] and terms of scurrility betwixt\nus, which only difference our affections, and not our cause, there is\nbetween us one common name and appellation, one faith and necessary\nbody of principles common to us both; and therefore I am not scrupulous\nto converse and live with them, to enter their churches in defect of\nours, and either pray with them or for them. I could never perceive any\nrational consequences from those many texts which prohibit the children\nof Israel to pollute themselves with the temples of the heathens; we\nbeing all Christians, and not divided by such detested impieties as\nmight profane our prayers, or the place wherein we make them; or that a\nresolved conscience may not adore her Creator anywhere, especially in\nplaces devoted to his service; if their devotions offend him, mine may\nplease him: if theirs profane it, mine may hallow it. Holy water and\ncrucifix (dangerous to the common people) deceive not my judgment, nor\nabuse my devotion at all. I am, I confess, naturally inclined to that\nwhich misguided zeal terms superstition: my common conversation I do\nacknowledge austere, my behaviour full of rigour, sometimes not without\nmorosity; yet, at my devotion I love to use the civility of my knee, my\nhat, and hand, with all those outward and sensible motions which may\nexpress or promote my invisible devotion. I should violate my own arm\nrather than a church; nor willingly deface the name of saint or martyr.\nAt the sight of a cross, or crucifix, I can dispense with my hat, but\nscarce with the thought or memory of my Saviour. I cannot laugh at,\nbut rather pity, the fruitless journeys of pilgrims, or contemn the\nmiserable condition of friars; for, though misplaced in circumstances,\nthere is something in it of devotion. I could never hear the Ave-Mary\nbell[A] without an elevation, or think it a sufficient warrant,\nbecause they erred in one circumstance, for me to err in all,--that\nis, in silence and dumb contempt. Whilst, therefore, they direct their\ndevotions to her, I offered mine to God; and rectify the errors of\ntheir prayers by rightly ordering mine own. At a solemn procession I\nhave wept abundantly, while my consorts, blind with opposition and\nprejudice, have fallen into an excess of scorn and laughter. There are,\nquestionless, both in Greek, Roman, and African churches, solemnities\nand ceremonies, whereof the wiser zeals do make a Christian use; and\nstand condemned by us, not as evil in themselves, but as allurements\nand baits of superstition to those vulgar heads that look asquint on\nthe face of truth, and those unstable judgments that cannot resist in\nthe narrow point and centre of virtue without a reel or stagger to the\ncircumference.\n\n[A] A church-bell, that tolls every day at six and twelve of the clock;\nat the hearing whereof every one, in what place soever, either of house\nor street, betakes himself to his prayer, which is commonly directed to\nthe Virgin.\n\n_Sect._ 4.--As there were many reformers, so likewise many\nreformations; every country proceeding in a particular way and\nmethod, according as their national interest, together with their\nconstitution and clime, inclined them: some angrily and with\nextremity; others calmly and with mediocrity, not rending, but easily\ndividing, the community, and leaving an honest possibility of a\nreconciliation;--which, though peaceable spirits do desire, and may\nconceive that revolution of time and the mercies of God may effect,\nyet that judgment that shall consider the present antipathies between\nthe two extremes,--their contrarieties in condition, affection, and\nopinion,--may, with the same hopes, expect a union in the poles of\nheaven.\n\n_Sect._ 5.--But, to difference myself nearer, and draw into a\nlesser circle; there is no church whose every part so squares unto\nmy conscience, whose articles, constitutions, and customs, seem so\nconsonant unto reason, and, as it were, framed to my particular\ndevotion, as this whereof I hold my belief--the Church of England;\nto whose faith I am a sworn subject, and therefore, in a double\nobligation, subscribe unto her articles, and endeavour to observe her\nconstitutions: whatsoever is beyond, as points indifferent, I observe,\naccording to the rules of my private reason, or the humour and fashion\nof my devotion; neither believing this because Luther affirmed it,\nnor disproving that because Calvin hath disavouched it. I condemn\nnot all things in the council of Trent, nor approve all in the synod\nof Dort.[3] In brief, where the Scripture is silent, the church is\nmy text; where that speaks, \u2019tis but my comment;[4] where there is a\njoint silence of both, I borrow not the rules of my religion from Rome\nor Geneva, but from the dictates of my own reason. It is an unjust\nscandal of our adversaries, and a gross error in ourselves, to compute\nthe nativity of our religion from Henry the Eighth; who, though he\nrejected the Pope, refused not the faith of Rome,[5] and effected no\nmore than what his own predecessors desired and essayed in ages past,\nand it was conceived the state of Venice would have attempted in our\ndays.[6] It is as uncharitable a point in us to fall upon those popular\nscurrilities and opprobrious scoffs of the Bishop of Rome, to whom, as\na temporal prince, we owe the duty of good language. I confess there is\na cause of passion between us: by his sentence I stand excommunicated;\nheretic is the best language he affords me: yet can no ear witness I\never returned to him the name of antichrist, man of sin, or whore of\nBabylon. It is the method of charity to suffer without reaction: those\nusual satires and invectives of the pulpit may perchance produce a good\neffect on the vulgar, whose ears are opener to rhetoric than logic; yet\ndo they, in no wise, confirm the faith of wiser believers, who know\nthat a good cause needs not be pardoned by passion, but can sustain\nitself upon a temperate dispute.\n\n_Sect._ 6.--I could never divide myself from any man upon the\ndifference of an opinion, or be angry with his judgment for not\nagreeing with me in that from which, perhaps, within a few days, I\nshould dissent myself. I have no genius to disputes in religion:\nand have often thought it wisdom to decline them, especially upon a\ndisadvantage, or when the cause of truth might suffer in the weakness\nof my patronage. Where we desire to be informed, \u2019tis good to contest\nwith men above ourselves; but, to confirm and establish our opinions,\n\u2019tis best to argue with judgments below our own, that the frequent\nspoils and victories over their reasons may settle in ourselves an\nesteem and confirmed opinion of our own. Every man is not a proper\nchampion for truth, nor fit to take up the gauntlet in the cause of\nverity; many, from the ignorance of these maxims, and an inconsiderate\nzeal unto truth, have too rashly charged the troops of error and\nremain as trophies unto the enemies of truth. A man may be in as just\npossession of truth as of a city, and yet be forced to surrender; \u2019tis\ntherefore far better to enjoy her with peace than to hazard her on a\nbattle. If, therefore, there rise any doubts in my way, I do forget\nthem, or at least defer them, till my better settled judgment and\nmore manly reason be able to resolve them; for I perceive every man\u2019s\nown reason is his best \u0152dipus,[7] and will, upon a reasonable truce,\nfind a way to loose those bonds wherewith the subtleties of error\nhave enchained our more flexible and tender judgments. In philosophy,\nwhere truth seems double-faced, there is no man more paradoxical than\nmyself: but in divinity I love to keep the road; and, though not in an\nimplicit, yet an humble faith, follow the great wheel of the church,\nby which I move; not reserving any proper poles, or motion from the\nepicycle of my own brain. By this means I have no gap for heresy,\nschisms, or errors, of which at present, I hope I shall not injure\ntruth to say, I have no taint or tincture. I must confess my greener\nstudies have been polluted with two or three; not any begotten in the\nlatter centuries, but old and obsolete, such as could never have been\nrevived but by such extravagant and irregular heads as mine. For,\nindeed, heresies perish not with their authors; but, like the river\nArethusa,[8] though they lose their currents in one place, they rise\nup again in another. One general council is not able to extirpate one\nsingle heresy: it may be cancelled for the present; but revolution\nof time, and the like aspects from heaven, will restore it, when it\nwill flourish till it be condemned again. For, as though there were\nmetempsychosis, and the soul of one man passed into another, opinions\ndo find, after certain revolutions, men and minds like those that\nfirst begat them. To see ourselves again, we need not look for Plato\u2019s\nyear:[B] every man is not only himself; there have been many Diogenes,\nand as many Timons, though but few of that name; men are lived over\nagain; the world is now as it was in ages past; there was none then,\nbut there hath been some one since, that parallels him, and is, as it\nwere, his revived self.\n\n[B] A revolution of certain thousand years, when all things should\nreturn unto their former estate, and he be teaching again in his\nschool, as when he delivered this opinion.\n\n_Sect._ 7.--Now, the first of mine was that of the Arabians;[9] that\nthe souls of men perished with their bodies, but should yet be raised\nagain at the last day: not that I did absolutely conceive a mortality\nof the soul, but, if that were (which faith, not philosophy, hath yet\nthoroughly disproved), and that both entered the grave together, yet\nI held the same conceit thereof that we all do of the body, that it\nrise again. Surely it is but the merits of our unworthy natures, if we\nsleep in darkness until the last alarm. A serious reflex upon my own\nunworthiness did make me backward from challenging this prerogative\nof my soul: so that I might enjoy my Saviour at the last, I could\nwith patience be nothing almost unto eternity. The second was that of\nOrigen; that God would not persist in his vengeance for ever, but,\nafter a definite time of his wrath, would release the damned souls\nfrom torture; which error I fell into upon a serious contemplation of\nthe great attribute of God, his mercy; and did a little cherish it\nin myself, because I found therein no malice, and a ready weight to\nsway me from the other extreme of despair, whereunto melancholy and\ncontemplative natures are too easily disposed. A third there is, which\nI did never positively maintain or practise, but have often wished it\nhad been consonant to truth, and not offensive to my religion; and\nthat is, the prayer for the dead; whereunto I was inclined from some\ncharitable inducements, whereby I could scarce contain my prayers for\na friend at the ringing of a bell, or behold his corpse without an\norison for his soul. \u2019Twas a good way, methought, to be remembered by\nposterity, and far more noble than a history. These opinions I never\nmaintained with pertinacity, or endeavoured to inveigle any man\u2019s\nbelief unto mine, nor so much as ever revealed, or disputed them with\nmy dearest friends; by which means I neither propagated them in others\nnor confirmed them in myself: but, suffering them to flame upon their\nown substance, without addition of new fuel, they went out insensibly\nof themselves; therefore these opinions, though condemned by lawful\ncouncils, were not heresies in me, but bare errors, and single lapses\nof my understanding, without a joint depravity of my will. Those have\nnot only depraved understandings, but diseased affections, which cannot\nenjoy a singularity without a heresy, or be the author of an opinion\nwithout they be of a sect also. This was the villany of the first\nschism of Lucifer; who was not content to err alone, but drew into his\nfaction many legions; and upon this experience he tempted only Eve,\nwell understanding the communicable nature of sin, and that to deceive\nbut one was tacitly and upon consequence to delude them both.\n\n_Sect._ 8.--That heresies should arise, we have the prophecy of Christ;\nbut, that old ones should be abolished, we hold no prediction. That\nthere must be heresies, is true, not only in our church, but also in\nany other: even in the doctrines heretical there will be superheresies;\nand Arians, not only divided from the church, but also among\nthemselves: for heads that are disposed unto schism, and complexionally\npropense to innovation, are naturally indisposed for a community;\nnor will be ever confined unto the order or economy of one body; and\ntherefore, when they separate from others, they knit but loosely among\nthemselves; nor contented with a general breach or dichotomy[10] with\ntheir church, do subdivide and mince themselves almost into atoms.\n\u2019Tis true, that men of singular parts and humours have not been free\nfrom singular opinions and conceits in all ages; retaining something,\nnot only beside the opinion of his own church, or any other, but also\nany particular author; which, notwithstanding, a sober judgment may\ndo without offence or heresy; for there is yet, after all the decrees\nof councils, and the niceties of the schools, many things, untouched,\nunimagined, wherein the liberty of an honest reason may play and\nexpatiate with security, and far without the circle of a heresy.\n\n_Sect._ 9.--As for those wingy mysteries in divinity, and airy\nsubtleties in religion, which have unhinged the brains of better\nheads, they never stretched the _pia mater_[11] of mine. Methinks\nthere be not impossibilities enough in religion for an active faith:\nthe deepest mysteries ours contains have not only been illustrated,\nbut maintained, by syllogism and the rule of reason. I love to lose\nmyself in a mystery; to pursue my reason to an _O altitudo!_ \u2019Tis my\nsolitary recreation to pose my apprehension with those involved enigmas\nand riddles of the Trinity--with incarnation and resurrection. I can\nanswer all the objections of Satan and my rebellious reason with that\nodd resolution I learned of Tertullian, \u201c_Certum est quia impossibile\nest_.\u201d I desire to exercise my faith in the difficultest point; for, to\ncredit ordinary and visible objects, is not faith, but persuasion. Some\nbelieve the better for seeing Christ\u2019s sepulchre; and, when they have\nseen the Red Sea, doubt not of the miracle. Now, contrarily, I bless\nmyself, and am thankful, that I lived not in the days of miracles; that\nI never saw Christ nor his disciples. I would not have been one of\nthose Israelites that passed the Red Sea; nor one of Christ\u2019s patients,\non whom he wrought his wonders: then had my faith been thrust upon me;\nnor should I enjoy that greater blessing pronounced to all that believe\nand saw not. \u2019Tis an easy and necessary belief, to credit what our eye\nand sense hath examined. I believe he was dead, and buried, and rose\nagain; and desire to see him in his glory, rather than to contemplate\nhim in his cenotaph or sepulchre. Nor is this much to believe; as\nwe have reason, we owe this faith unto history: they only had the\nadvantage of a bold and noble faith, who lived before his coming, who,\nupon obscure prophesies and mystical types, could raise a belief, and\nexpect apparent impossibilities.\n\n_Sect._ 10.--\u2019Tis true, there is an edge in all firm belief, and\nwith an easy metaphor we may say, the sword of faith; but in these\nobscurities I rather use it in the adjunct the apostle gives it, a\nbuckler; under which I conceive a wary combatant may lie invulnerable.\nSince I was of understanding to know that we knew nothing, my reason\nhath been more pliable to the will of faith: I am now content to\nunderstand a mystery, without a rigid definition, in an easy and\nPlatonic description. That allegorical description of Hermes[C]\npleaseth me beyond all the metaphysical definitions of divines. Where\nI cannot satisfy my reason, I love to humour my fancy: I had as lieve\nyou tell me that _anima est angelus hominis, est corpus Dei_, as\n\u1f10\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03ad\u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03b1;--_lux est umbra Dei_, as _actus perspicui_. Where there\nis an obscurity too deep for our reason, \u2019tis good to sit down with a\ndescription, periphrasis, or adumbration;[12] for, by acquainting our\nreason how unable it is to display the visible and obvious effects of\nnature, it becomes more humble and submissive unto the subtleties of\nfaith: and thus I teach my haggard and unreclaimed reason to stoop unto\nthe lure of faith. I believe there was already a tree, whose fruit our\nunhappy parents tasted, though, in the same chapter when God forbids\nit, \u2019tis positively said, the plants of the field were not yet grown;\nfor God had not caused it to rain upon the earth. I believe that the\nserpent (if we shall literally understand it), from his proper form\nand figure, made his motion on his belly, before the curse. I find the\ntrial of the pucelage and virginity of women, which God ordained the\nJews, is very fallible. Experience and history informs me that, not\nonly many particular women, but likewise whole nations, have escaped\nthe curse of childbirth, which God seems to pronounce upon the whole\nsex; yet do I believe that all this is true, which, indeed, my reason\nwould persuade me to be false: and this, I think, is no vulgar part of\nfaith, to believe a thing not only above, but contrary to, reason, and\nagainst the arguments of our proper senses.\n\n[C] \u201cSph\u00e6ra cujus centrum ubique, circumferentia nullibi.\u201d\n\n_Sect._ 11.--In my solitary and retired imagination (\u201c_neque enim cum\nporticus aut me lectulus accepit, desum mihi_\u201d), I remember I am not\nalone; and therefore forget not to contemplate him and his attributes,\nwho is ever with me, especially those two mighty ones, his wisdom\nand eternity. With the one I recreate, with the other I confound, my\nunderstanding: for who can speak of eternity without a solecism, or\nthink thereof without an ecstasy? Time we may comprehend; \u2019tis but five\ndays elder than ourselves, and hath the same horoscope with the world;\nbut, to retire so far back as to apprehend a beginning,--to give such\nan infinite start forwards as to conceive an end,--in an essence that\nwe affirm hath neither the one nor the other, it puts my reason to St\nPaul\u2019s sanctuary: my philosophy dares not say the angels can do it.\nGod hath not made a creature that can comprehend him; \u2019tis a privilege\nof his own nature: \u201cI am that I am\u201d was his own definition unto Moses;\nand \u2019twas a short one to confound mortality, that durst question God,\nor ask him what he was. Indeed, he only is; all others have and shall\nbe; but, in eternity, there is no distinction of tenses; and therefore\nthat terrible term, predestination, which hath troubled so many weak\nheads to conceive, and the wisest to explain, is in respect to God no\nprescious determination of our estates to come, but a definitive blast\nof his will already fulfilled, and at the instant that he first decreed\nit; for, to his eternity, which is indivisible, and altogether, the\nlast trump is already sounded, the reprobates in the flame, and the\nblessed in Abraham\u2019s bosom. St Peter speaks modestly, when he saith,\n\u201ca thousand years to God are but as one day;\u201d for, to speak like a\nphilosopher, those continued instances of time, which flow into a\nthousand years, make not to him one moment. What to us is to come, to\nhis eternity is present; his whole duration being but one permanent\npoint, without succession, parts, flux, or division.\n\n_Sect._ 12.--There is no attribute that adds more difficulty to the\nmystery of the Trinity, where, though in a relative way of Father and\nSon, we must deny a priority. I wonder how Aristotle could conceive\nthe world eternal, or how he could make good two eternities. His\nsimilitude, of a triangle comprehended in a square, doth somewhat\nillustrate the trinity of our souls, and that the triple unity of God;\nfor there is in us not three, but a trinity of, souls; because there\nis in us, if not three distinct souls, yet differing faculties, that\ncan and do subsist apart in different subjects, and yet in us are thus\nunited as to make but one soul and substance. If one soul were so\nperfect as to inform three distinct bodies, that were a pretty trinity.\nConceive the distinct number of three, not divided nor separated by\nthe intellect, but actually comprehended in its unity, and that a\nperfect trinity. I have often admired the mystical way of Pythagoras,\nand the secret magick of numbers. \u201cBeware of philosophy,\u201d is a precept\nnot to be received in too large a sense: for, in this mass of nature,\nthere is a set of things that carry in their front, though not in\ncapital letters, yet in stenography and short characters, something of\ndivinity; which, to wiser reasons, serve as luminaries in the abyss of\nknowledge, and, to judicious beliefs, as scales and roundles to mount\nthe pinnacles and highest pieces of divinity. The severe schools shall\nnever laugh me out of the philosophy of Hermes, that this visible world\nis but a picture of the invisible, wherein, as in a portrait, things\nare not truly, but in equivocal shapes, and as they counterfeit some\nreal substance in that invisible fabrick.\n\n_Sect._ 13.--That other attribute, wherewith I recreate my devotion, is\nhis wisdom, in which I am happy; and for the contemplation of this only\ndo not repent me that I was bred in the way of study. The advantage I\nhave therein, is an ample recompense for all my endeavours, in what\npart of knowledge soever. Wisdom is his most beauteous attribute:\nno man can attain unto it: yet Solomon pleased God when he desired\nit. He is wise, because he knows all things; and he knoweth all\nthings, because he made them all: but his greatest knowledge is in\ncomprehending that he made not, that is, himself. And this is also the\ngreatest knowledge in man. For this do I honour my own profession,\nand embrace the counsel even of the devil himself: had he read such a\nlecture in Paradise as he did at Delphos,[D][13] we had better known\nourselves; nor had we stood in fear to know him. I know God is wise in\nall; wonderful in what we conceive, but far more in what we comprehend\nnot: for we behold him but asquint, upon reflex or shadow; our\nunderstanding is dimmer than Moses\u2019s eye; we are ignorant of the back\nparts or lower side of his divinity; therefore, to pry into the maze of\nhis counsels, is not only folly in man, but presumption even in angels.\nLike us, they are his servants, not his senators; he holds no counsel,\nbut that mystical one of the Trinity, wherein, though there be three\npersons, there is but one mind that decrees without contradiction.\nNor needs he any; his actions are not begot with deliberation; his\nwisdom naturally knows what\u2019s best: his intellect stands ready fraught\nwith the superlative and purest ideas of goodness, consultations,\nand election, which are two motions in us, make but one in him: his\nactions springing from his power at the first touch of his will. These\nare contemplations metaphysical: my humble speculations have another\nmethod, and are content to trace and discover those expressions he hath\nleft in his creatures, and the obvious effects of nature. There is\nno danger to profound[14] these mysteries, no _sanctum sanctorum_ in\nphilosophy. The world was made to be inhabited by beasts, but studied\nand contemplated by man: \u2019tis the debt of our reason we owe unto God,\nand the homage we pay for not being beasts. Without this, the world is\nstill as though it had not been, or as it was before the sixth day,\nwhen as yet there was not a creature that could conceive or say there\nwas a world. The wisdom of God receives small honour from those vulgar\nheads that rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity admire his\nworks. Those highly magnify him, whose judicious enquiry into his acts,\nand deliberate research into his creatures, return the duty of a devout\nand learned admiration. Therefore,\n\n[D] \u201c\u0393\u03bd\u1ff6\u03b8\u03b9 \u03c3\u03b5\u03b1\u03c5\u03c4\u1f78\u03bd.\u201d \u201cNosce teipsum.\u201d\n\n    Search while thou wilt; and let thy reason go,\n    To ransom truth, e\u2019en to th\u2019 abyss below;\n    Rally the scatter\u2019d causes; and that line\n    Which nature twists be able to untwine.\n    It is thy Maker\u2019s will; for unto none\n    But unto reason can he e\u2019er be known.\n    The devils do know thee; but those damn\u2019d meteors\n    Build not thy glory, but confound thy creatures.\n    Teach my endeavours so thy works to read,\n    That learning them in thee I may proceed.\n    Give thou my reason that instructive flight,\n    Whose weary wings may on thy hands still light.\n    Teach me to soar aloft, yet ever so,\n    When near the sun, to stoop again below.\n    Thus shall my humble feathers safely hover,\n    And, though near earth, more than the heavens discover.\n    And then at last, when homeward I shall drive,\n    Rich with the spoils of nature, to my hive,\n    There will I sit, like that industrious fly,\n    Buzzing thy praises; which shall never die\n    Till death abrupts them, and succeeding glory\n    Bid me go on in a more lasting story.\n\nAnd this is almost all wherein an humble creature may endeavour to\nrequite, and some way to retribute unto his Creator: for, if not he\nthat saith, \u201cLord, Lord, but he that doth the will of the Father,\nshall be saved,\u201d certainly our wills must be our performances, and our\nintents make out our actions; otherwise our pious labours shall find\nanxiety in our graves, and our best endeavours not hope, but fear, a\nresurrection.\n\n_Sect._ 14.--There is but one first cause, and four second causes, of\nall things. Some are without efficient,[15] as God; others without\nmatter, as angels; some without form, as the first matter: but every\nessence, created or uncreated, hath its final cause, and some positive\nend both of its essence and operation. This is the cause I grope\nafter in the works of nature; on this hangs the providence of God.\nTo raise so beauteous a structure as the world and the creatures\nthereof was but his art; but their sundry and divided operations, with\ntheir predestinated ends, are from the treasure of his wisdom. In the\ncauses, nature, and affections, of the eclipses of the sun and moon,\nthere is most excellent speculation; but, to profound further, and to\ncontemplate a reason why his providence hath so disposed and ordered\ntheir motions in that vast circle, as to conjoin and obscure each\nother, is a sweeter piece of reason, and a diviner point of philosophy.\nTherefore, sometimes, and in some things, there appears to me as much\ndivinity in Galen his books, _De Usu Partium_,[16] as in Suarez\u2019s\nMetaphysicks. Had Aristotle been as curious in the enquiry of this\ncause as he was of the other, he had not left behind him an imperfect\npiece of philosophy, but an absolute tract of divinity.\n\n_Sect._ 15.--_Natura nihil agit frustra_, is the only indisputable\naxiom in philosophy. There are no grotesques in nature; not any thing\nframed to fill up empty cantons, and unnecessary spaces. In the most\nimperfect creatures, and such as were not preserved in the ark,\nbut, having their seeds and principles in the womb of nature, are\neverywhere, where the power of the sun is,--in these is the wisdom of\nhis hand discovered. Out of this rank Solomon chose the object of his\nadmiration; indeed, what reason may not go to school to the wisdom of\nbees, ants, and spiders? What wise hand teacheth them to do what reason\ncannot teach us? Ruder heads stand amazed at those prodigious pieces of\nnature, whales, elephants, dromedaries, and camels; these, I confess,\nare the colossus and majestick pieces of her hand; but in these narrow\nengines there is more curious mathematicks; and the civility of these\nlittle citizens more neatly sets forth the wisdom of their Maker. Who\nadmires not Regio Montanus his fly beyond his eagle;[17] or wonders\nnot more at the operation of two souls in those little bodies than but\none in the trunk of a cedar? I could never content my contemplation\nwith those general pieces of wonder, the flux and reflux of the sea,\nthe increase of Nile, the conversion of the needle to the north; and\nhave studied to match and parallel those in the more obvious and\nneglected pieces of nature which, without farther travel, I can do in\nthe cosmography of myself. We carry with us the wonders we seek without\nus: there is all Africa and her prodigies in us. We are that bold and\nadventurous piece of nature, which he that studies wisely learns, in a\ncompendium, what others labour at in a divided piece and endless volume.\n\n_Sect._ 16.--Thus there are two books from whence I collect my\ndivinity. Besides that written one of God, another of his servant,\nnature, that universal and publick manuscript, that lies expansed unto\nthe eyes of all. Those that never saw him in the one have discovered\nhim in the other; this was the scripture and theology of the heathens;\nthe natural motion of the sun made them more admire him than its\nsupernatural station did the children of Israel. The ordinary effects\nof nature wrought more admiration in them than, in the other, all\nhis miracles. Surely the heathens knew better how to join and read\nthese mystical letters than we Christians, who cast a more careless\neye on these common hieroglyphics, and disdain to suck divinity from\nthe flowers of nature. Nor do I so forget God as to adore the name of\nnature; which I define not, with the schools, to be the principle of\nmotion and rest, but that straight and regular line, that settled and\nconstant course the wisdom of God hath ordained the actions of his\ncreatures, according to their several kinds. To make a revolution every\nday is the nature of the sun, because of that necessary course which\nGod hath ordained it, from which it cannot swerve but by a faculty from\nthat voice which first did give it motion. Now this course of nature\nGod seldom alters or perverts; but, like an excellent artist, hath so\ncontrived his work, that, with the self-same instrument, without a\nnew creation, he may effect his obscurest designs. Thus he sweeteneth\nthe water with a word, preserveth the creatures in the ark, which the\nblest of his mouth might have as easily created;--for God is like a\nskilful geometrician, who, when more easily, and with one stroke of\nhis compass, he might describe or divide a right line, had yet rather\ndo this in a circle or longer way, according to the constituted and\nforelaid principles of his art: yet this rule of his he doth sometimes\npervert, to acquaint the world with his prerogative, lest the arrogancy\nof our reason should question his power, and conclude he could not.\nAnd thus I call the effects of nature the works of God, whose hand and\ninstrument she only is; and therefore, to ascribe his actions unto her\nis to devolve the honour of the principal agent upon the instrument;\nwhich if with reason we may do, then let our hammers rise up and boast\nthey have built our houses, and our pens receive the honour of our\nwriting. I hold there is a general beauty in the works of God, and\ntherefore no deformity in any kind of species of creature whatsoever.\nI cannot tell by what logick we call a toad, a bear, or an elephant\nugly; they being created in those outward shapes and figures which\nbest express the actions of their inward forms; and having passed that\ngeneral visitation of God, who saw that all that he had made was good,\nthat is, conformable to his will, which abhors deformity, and is the\nrule of order and beauty. There is no deformity but in monstrosity;\nwherein, notwithstanding, there is a kind of beauty; nature so\ningeniously contriving the irregular part, as they become sometimes\nmore remarkable than the principal fabrick. To speak yet more narrowly,\nthere was never any thing ugly or mis-shapen, but the chaos; wherein,\nnotwithstanding, to speak strictly, there was no deformity, because no\nform; nor was it yet impregnant by the voice of God. Now nature is not\nat variance with art, nor art with nature; they being both the servants\nof his providence. Art is the perfection of nature. Were the world now\nas it was the sixth day, there were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one\nworld, and art another. In brief, all things are artificial; for nature\nis the art of God.\n\n_Sect._ 17.--This is the ordinary and open way of his providence, which\nart and industry have in good part discovered; whose effects we may\nforetell without an oracle. To foreshow these is not prophecy, but\nprognostication. There is another way, full of meanders and labyrinths,\nwhereof the devil and spirits have no exact ephemerides: and that is\na more particular and obscure method of his providence; directing the\noperations of individual and single essences: this we call fortune;\nthat serpentine and crooked line, whereby he draws those actions his\nwisdom intends in a more unknown and secret way; this cryptic[18] and\ninvolved method of his providence have I ever admired; nor can I relate\nthe history of my life, the occurrences of my days, the escapes, or\ndangers, and hits of chance, with a _bezo las manos_ to Fortune, or\na bare gramercy to my good stars. Abraham might have thought the ram\nin the thicket came thither by accident: human reason would have said\nthat mere chance conveyed Moses in the ark to the sight of Pharaoh\u2019s\ndaughter. What a labyrinth is there in the story of Joseph! able to\nconvert a stoick. Surely there are in every man\u2019s life certain rubs,\ndoublings, and wrenches, which pass a while under the effects of\nchance; but at the last, well examined, prove the mere hand of God.\n\u2019Twas not dumb chance that, to discover the fougade,[19] or powder\nplot, contrived a miscarriage in the letter. I like the victory of\n\u201988[20] the better for that one occurrence which our enemies imputed to\nour dishonour, and the partiality of fortune; to wit, the tempests and\ncontrariety of winds. King Philip did not detract from the nation, when\nhe said, he sent his armada to fight with men, and not to combat with\nthe winds. Where there is a manifest disproportion between the powers\nand forces of two several agents, upon a maxim of reason we may promise\nthe victory to the superior: but when unexpected accidents slip in, and\nunthought-of occurrences intervene, these must proceed from a power\nthat owes no obedience to those axioms; where, as in the writing upon\nthe wall, we may behold the hand, but see not the spring that moves\nit. The success of that petty province of Holland (of which the Grand\nSeignior proudly said, if they should trouble him, as they did the\nSpaniard, he would send his men with shovels and pickaxes, and throw it\ninto the sea) I cannot altogether ascribe to the ingenuity and industry\nof the people, but the mercy of God, that hath disposed them to such a\nthriving genius; and to the will of his providence, that disposeth her\nfavour to each country in their preordinate season. All cannot be happy\nat once; for, because the glory of one state depends upon the ruin of\nanother, there is a revolution and vicissitude of their greatness, and\nmust obey the swing of that wheel, not moved by intelligencies, but by\nthe hand of God, whereby all estates arise to their zenith and vertical\npoints, according to their predestinated periods. For the lives, not\nonly of men, but of commonwealths and the whole world, run not upon a\nhelix that still enlargeth; but on a circle, where, arriving to their\nmeridian, they decline in obscurity, and fall under the horizon again.\n\n_Sect._ 18.--These must not therefore be named the effects of fortune\nbut in a relative way, and as we term the works of nature. It was\nthe ignorance of man\u2019s reason that begat this very name, and by a\ncareless term miscalled the providence of God: for there is no liberty\nfor causes to operate in a loose and straggling way; nor any effect\nwhatsoever but hath its warrant from some universal or superior cause.\n\u2019Tis not a ridiculous devotion to say a prayer before a game at tables;\nfor, even in sortileges[21] and matters of greatest uncertainty,\nthere is a settled and preordered course of effects. It is we that\nare blind, not fortune. Because our eye is too dim to discover the\nmystery of her effects, we foolishly paint her blind, and hoodwink the\nprovidence of the Almighty. I cannot justify that contemptible proverb,\nthat \u201cfools only are fortunate;\u201d or that insolent paradox, that \u201ca\nwise man is out of the reach of fortune;\u201d much less those opprobrious\nepithets of poets,--\u201cwhore,\u201d \u201cbawd,\u201d and \u201cstrumpet.\u201d \u2019Tis, I confess,\nthe common fate of men of singular gifts of mind, to be destitute of\nthose of fortune; which doth not any way deject the spirit of wiser\njudgments who thoroughly understand the justice of this proceeding;\nand, being enriched with higher donatives, cast a more careless eye\non these vulgar parts of felicity. It is a most unjust ambition, to\ndesire to engross the mercies of the Almighty, not to be content with\nthe goods of mind, without a possession of those of body or fortune:\nand it is an error, worse than heresy, to adore these complimental and\ncircumstantial pieces of felicity, and undervalue those perfections\nand essential points of happiness, wherein we resemble our Maker.\nTo wiser desires it is satisfaction enough to deserve, though not\nto enjoy, the favours of fortune. Let providence provide for fools:\n\u2019tis not partiality, but equity, in God, who deals with us but as our\nnatural parents. Those that are able of body and mind he leaves to\ntheir deserts; to those of weaker merits he imparts a larger portion;\nand pieces out the defect of one by the excess of the other. Thus have\nwe no just quarrel with nature for leaving us naked; or to envy the\nhorns, hoofs, skins, and furs of other creatures; being provided with\nreason, that can supply them all. We need not labour, with so many\narguments, to confute judicial astrology; for, if there be a truth\ntherein, it doth not injure divinity. If to be born under Mercury\ndisposeth us to be witty; under Jupiter to be wealthy; I do not owe\na knee unto these, but unto that merciful hand that hath ordered my\nindifferent and uncertain nativity unto such benevolous aspects. Those\nthat hold that all things are governed by fortune, had not erred,\nhad they not persisted there. The Romans, that erected a temple to\nFortune, acknowledged therein, though in a blinder way, somewhat of\ndivinity; for, in a wise supputation,[22] all things begin and end in\nthe Almighty. There is a nearer way to heaven than Homer\u2019s chain;[23]\nan easy logick may conjoin a heaven and earth in one argument, and,\nwith less than a sorites,[24] resolve all things to God. For though\nwe christen effects by their most sensible and nearest causes, yet is\nGod the true and infallible cause of all; whose concourse, though it\nbe general, yet doth it subdivide itself into the particular actions\nof every thing, and is that spirit, by which each singular essence not\nonly subsists, but performs its operation.\n\n_Sect._ 19.--The bad construction and perverse comment on these pair of\nsecond causes, or visible hands of God, have perverted the devotion of\nmany unto atheism; who, forgetting the honest advisoes of faith, have\nlistened unto the conspiracy of passion and reason. I have therefore\nalways endeavoured to compose those feuds and angry dissensions between\naffection, faith, and reason: for there is in our soul a kind of\ntriumvirate, or triple government of three competitors, which distracts\nthe peace of this our commonwealth not less than did that other[25] the\nstate of Rome.\n\nAs reason is a rebel unto faith, so passion unto reason. As the\npropositions of faith seem absurd unto reason, so the theorems of\nreason unto passion and both unto reason; yet a moderate and peaceable\ndiscretion may so state and order the matter, that they may be all\nkings, and yet make but one monarchy: every one exercising his\nsovereignty and prerogative in a due time and place, according to the\nrestraint and limit of circumstance. There are, as in philosophy, so\nin divinity, sturdy doubts, and boisterous objections, wherewith the\nunhappiness of our knowledge too nearly acquainteth us. More of these\nno man hath known than myself; which I confess I conquered, not in a\nmartial posture, but on my knees. For our endeavours are not only to\ncombat with doubts, but always to dispute with the devil. The villany\nof that spirit takes a hint of infidelity from our studios; and, by\ndemonstrating a naturality in one way, makes us mistrust a miracle\nin another. Thus, having perused the Archidoxes, and read the secret\nsympathies of things, he would dissuade my belief from the miracle of\nthe brazen serpent; make me conceit that image worked by sympathy, and\nwas but an Egyptian trick, to cure their diseases without a miracle.\nAgain, having seen some experiments of bitumen, and having read far\nmore of naphtha, he whispered to my curiosity the fire of the altar\nmight be natural, and bade me mistrust a miracle in Elias, when he\nintrenched the altar round with water: for that inflamable substance\nyields not easily unto water, but flames in the arms of its antagonist.\nAnd thus would he inveigle my belief to think the combustion of Sodom\nmight be natural, and that there was an asphaltick and bituminous\nnature in that lake before the fire of Gomorrah. I know that manna is\nnow plentifully gathered in Calabria; and Josephus tells me, in his\ndays it was as plentiful in Arabia. The devil therefore made the query,\n\u201cWhere was then the miracle in the days of Moses?\u201d The Israelites saw\nbut that, in his time, which the natives of those countries behold\nin ours. Thus the devil played at chess with me, and, yielding a\npawn, thought to gain a queen of me; taking advantage of my honest\nendeavours; and, whilst I laboured to raise the structure of my reason,\nhe strove to undermine the edifice of my faith.\n\n_Sect._ 20.--Neither had these or any other ever such advantage of me,\nas to incline me to any point of infidelity or desperate positions of\natheism; for I have been these many years of opinion there was never\nany. Those that held religion was the difference of man from beasts,\nhave spoken probably, and proceed upon a principle as inductive as\nthe other. That doctrine of Epicurus, that denied the providence of\nGod, was no atheism, but a magnificent and high-strained conceit of\nhis majesty, which he deemed too sublime to mind the trivial actions\nof those inferior creatures. That fatal necessity of the stoicks is\nnothing but the immutable law of his will. Those that heretofore denied\nthe divinity of the Holy Ghost have been condemned but as hereticks;\nand those that now deny our Saviour, though more than hereticks, are\nnot so much as atheists: for, though they deny two persons in the\nTrinity, they hold, as we do, there is but one God.\n\nThat villain and secretary of hell,[26] that composed that miscreant\npiece of the three impostors, though divided from all religions, and\nneither Jew, Turk, nor Christian, was not a positive atheist. I confess\nevery country hath its Machiavel, every age its Lucian, whereof common\nheads must not hear, nor more advanced judgments too rashly venture on.\nIt is the rhetorick of Satan; and may pervert a loose or prejudicate\nbelief.\n\n_Sect._ 21.--I confess I have perused them all, and can discover\nnothing that may startle a discreet belief; yet are their heads carried\noff with the wind and breath of such motives. I remember a doctor in\nphysick, of Italy, who could not perfectly believe the immortality of\nthe soul, because Galen seemed to make a doubt thereof. With another I\nwas familiarly acquainted, in France, a divine, and a man of singular\nparts, that on the same point was so plunged and gravelled with three\nlines of Seneca,[E] that all our antidotes, drawn from both Scripture\nand philosophy, could not expel the poison of his error. There are a\nset of heads that can credit the relations of mariners, yet question\nthe testimonies of Saint Paul: and peremptorily maintain the traditions\nof \u00c6lian or Pliny; yet, in histories of Scripture, raise queries and\nobjections: believing no more than they can parallel in human authors.\nI confess there are, in Scripture, stories that do exceed the fables of\npoets, and, to a captious reader, sound like Garagantua or Bevis.[27]\nSearch all the legends of times past, and the fabulous conceits of\nthese present, and \u2019twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry\nthe buckler unto Samson; yet is all this of an easy possibility,\nif we conceive a divine concourse, or an influence from the little\nfinger of the Almighty. It is impossible that, either in the discourse\nof man or in the infallible voice of God, to the weakness of our\napprehensions there should not appear irregularities, contradictions,\nand antinomies:[28] myself could show a catalogue of doubts, never yet\nimagined nor questioned, as I know, which are not resolved at the first\nhearing; not fantastick queries or objections of air; for I cannot\nhear of atoms in divinity. I can read the history of the pigeon that\nwas sent out of the ark, and returned no more, yet not question how\nshe found out her mate that was left behind: that Lazarus was raised\nfrom the dead, yet not demand where, in the interim, his soul awaited;\nor raise a law-case, whether his heir might lawfully detain his\ninheritance bequeathed upon him by his death, and he, though restored\nto life, have no plea or title unto his former possessions. Whether\nEve was framed out of the left side of Adam, I dispute not; because\nI stand not yet assured which is the right side of a man; or whether\nthere be any such distinction in nature. That she was edified out of\nthe rib of Adam, I believe; yet raise no question who shall arise with\nthat rib at the resurrection. Whether Adam was an hermaphrodite, as the\nrabbins contend upon the letter of the text; because it is contrary\nto reason, there should be an hermaphrodite before there was a woman,\nor a composition of two natures, before there was a second composed.\nLikewise, whether the world was created in autumn, summer, or the\nspring; because it was created in them all: for, whatsoever sign the\nsun possesseth, those four seasons are actually existent. It is the\nnature of this luminary to distinguish the several seasons of the year;\nall which it makes at one time in the whole earth, and successively\nin any part thereof. There are a bundle of curiosities, not only in\nphilosophy, but in divinity, proposed and discussed by men of most\nsupposed abilities, which indeed are not worthy our vacant hours, much\nless our serious studies. Pieces only fit to be placed in Pantagruel\u2019s\nlibrary, or bound up with Tartaratus, _De Modo Cacandi_.[F][29]\n\n[E] \u201cPost mortem nihil est, ipsaque mors nihil, mors individua est\nnoxia corpori, nec patiens anim\u00e6. . . . Toti morimur nullaque pars\nmanet nostri.\u201d\n\n[F] In Rabelais.\n\n_Sect._ 22.--These are niceties that become not those that peruse so\nserious a mystery. There are others more generally questioned, and\ncalled to the bar, yet, methinks, of an easy and possible truth.\n\n\u2019Tis ridiculous to put off or down the general flood of Noah, in that\nparticular inundation of Deucalion.[30] That there was a deluge once\nseems not to me so great a miracle as that there is not one always. How\nall the kinds of creatures, not only in their own bulks, but with a\ncompetency of food and sustenance, might be preserved in one ark, and\nwithin the extent of three hundred cubits, to a reason that rightly\nexamines it, will appear very feasible. There is another secret, not\ncontained in the Scripture, which is more hard to comprehend, and put\nthe honest Father[31] to the refuge of a miracle; and that is, not only\nhow the distinct pieces of the world, and divided islands, should be\nfirst planted by men, but inhabited by tigers, panthers, and bears.\nHow America abounded with beasts of prey, and noxious animals, yet\ncontained not in it that necessary creature, a horse, is very strange.\nBy what passage those, not only birds, but dangerous and unwelcome\nbeasts, come over. How there be creatures there (which are not found in\nthis triple continent). All which must needs be strange unto us, that\nhold but one ark; and that the creatures began their progress from the\nmountains of Ararat. They who, to salve this, would make the deluge\nparticular, proceed upon a principle that I can no way grant; not only\nupon the negative of Holy Scriptures, but of mine own reason, whereby\nI can make it probable that the world was as well peopled in the time\nof Noah as in ours; and fifteen hundred years, to people the world,\nas full a time for them as four thousand years since have been to us.\nThere are other assertions and common tenets drawn from Scripture,\nand generally believed as Scripture, whereunto, notwithstanding, I\nwould never betray the liberty of my reason. \u2019Tis a paradox to me,\nthat Methusalem was the longest lived of all the children of Adam;\nand no man will be able to prove it; when, from the process of the\ntext, I can manifest it may be otherwise. That Judas perished by\nhanging himself, there is no certainty in Scripture: though, in one\nplace, it seems to affirm it, and, by a doubtful word, hath given\noccasion to translate[32] it; yet, in another place, in a more\npunctual description, it makes it improbable, and seems to overthrow\nit. That our fathers, after the flood, erected the tower of Babel, to\npreserve themselves against a second deluge, is generally opinioned\nand believed; yet is there another intention of theirs expressed in\nScripture. Besides, it is improbable, from the circumstance of the\nplace; that is, a plain in the land of Shinar. These are no points of\nfaith; and therefore may admit a free dispute. There are yet others,\nand those familiarly concluded from the text, wherein (under favour) I\nsee no consequence. The church of Rome confidently proves the opinion\nof tutelary angels, from that answer, when Peter knocked at the door,\n\u201c\u2019Tis not he, but his angel;\u201d that is, might some say, his messenger,\nor somebody from him; for so the original signifies; and is as likely\nto be the doubtful family\u2019s meaning. This exposition I once suggested\nto a young divine, that answered upon this point; to which I remember\nthe Franciscan opponent replied no more, but, that it was a new, and no\nauthentick interpretation.\n\n_Sect._ 23.--These are but the conclusions and fallible discourses of\nman upon the word of God; for such I do believe the Holy Scriptures;\nyet, were it of man, I could not choose but say, it was the singularest\nand superlative piece that hath been extant since the creation. Were\nI a pagan, I should not refrain the lecture of it; and cannot but\ncommend the judgment of Ptolemy, that thought not his library complete\nwithout it. The Alcoran of the Turks (I speak without prejudice)\nis an ill-composed piece, containing in it vain and ridiculous\nerrors in philosophy, impossibilities, fictions, and vanities beyond\nlaughter, maintained by evident and open sophisms, the policy of\nignorance, deposition of universities, and banishment of learning.\nThat hath gotten foot by arms and violence: this, without a blow, hath\ndisseminated itself through the whole earth. It is not unremarkable,\nwhat Philo first observed, that the law of Moses continued two thousand\nyears without the least alteration; whereas, we see, the laws of other\ncommonwealths do alter with occasions: and even those, that pretended\ntheir original from some divinity, to have vanished without trace or\nmemory. I believe, besides Zoroaster, there were divers others that\nwrit before Moses; who, notwithstanding, have suffered the common\nfate of time. Men\u2019s works have an age, like themselves; and though\nthey outlive their authors, yet have they a stint and period to their\nduration. This only is a work too hard for the teeth of time, and\ncannot perish but in the general flames, when all things shall confess\ntheir ashes.\n\n_Sect._ 24.--I have heard some with deep sighs lament the lost lines\nof Cicero; others with as many groans deplore the combustion of the\nlibrary of Alexandria;[33] for my own part, I think there be too many\nin the world; and could with patience behold the urn and ashes of the\nVatican, could I, with a few others, recover the perished leaves of\nSolomon. I would not omit a copy of Enoch\u2019s pillars,[34] had they many\nnearer authors than Josephus, or did not relish somewhat of the fable.\nSome men have written more than others have spoken. Pineda[35] quotes\nmore authors, in one work,[G] than are necessary in a whole world.\nOf those three great inventions in Germany,[36] there are two which\nare not without their incommodities, and \u2019tis disputable whether they\nexceed not their use and commodities. \u2019Tis not a melancholy _utinam_\nof my own, but the desires of better heads, that there were a general\nsynod--not to unite the incompatible difference of religion, but,--for\nthe benefit of learning, to reduce it, as it lay at first, in a few and\nsolid authors; and to condemn to the fire those swarms and millions of\nrhapsodies, begotten only to distract and abuse the weaker judgments of\nscholars, and to maintain the trade and mystery of typographers.\n\n[G] Pineda, in his \u201cMonarchia Ecclesiastica,\u201d quotes one thousand and\nforty authors.\n\n_Sect._ 25.--I cannot but wonder with what exception the Samaritans\ncould confine their belief to the Pentateuch, or five books of Moses.\nI am ashamed at the rabbinical interpretation of the Jews upon the\nOld Testament,[37] as much as their defection from the New: and truly\nit is beyond wonder, how that contemptible and degenerate issue\nof Jacob, once so devoted to ethnick superstition, and so easily\nseduced to the idolatry of their neighbours, should now, in such an\nobstinate and peremptory belief, adhere unto their own doctrine, expect\nimpossibilities, and in the face and eye of the church, persist without\nthe least hope of conversion. This is a vice in them, that were a\nvirtue in us; for obstinacy in a bad cause is but constancy in a good:\nand herein I must accuse those of my own religion; for there is not\nany of such a fugitive faith, such an unstable belief, as a Christian;\nnone that do so often transform themselves, not unto several shapes\nof Christianity, and of the same species, but unto more unnatural and\ncontrary forms of Jew and Mohammedan; that, from the name of Saviour,\ncan condescend to the bare term of prophet: and, from an old belief\nthat he is come, fall to a new expectation of his coming. It is the\npromise of Christ, to make us all one flock: but how and when this\nunion shall be, is as obscure to me as the last day. Of those four\nmembers of religion we hold a slender proportion.[38] There are, I\nconfess, some new additions; yet small to those which accrue to our\nadversaries; and those only drawn from the revolt of pagans; men but\nof negative impieties; and such as deny Christ, but because they never\nheard of him. But the religion of the Jew is expressly against the\nChristian, and the Mohammedan against both; for the Turk, in the bulk\nhe now stands, is beyond all hope of conversion: if he fall asunder,\nthere may be conceived hopes; but not without strong improbabilities.\nThe Jew is obstinate in all fortunes; the persecution of fifteen\nhundred years hath but confirmed them in their error. They have already\nendured whatsoever may be inflicted: and have suffered, in a bad\ncause, even to the condemnation of their enemies. Persecution is a bad\nand indirect way to plant religion. It hath been the unhappy method\nof angry devotions, not only to confirm honest religion, but wicked\nheresies and extravagant opinions. It was the first stone and basis of\nour faith. None can more justly boast of persecutions, and glory in\nthe number and valour of martyrs. For, to speak properly, those are\ntrue and almost only examples of fortitude. Those that are fetched from\nthe field, or drawn from the actions of the camp, are not ofttimes so\ntruly precedents of valour as audacity, and, at the best, attain but\nto some bastard piece of fortitude. If we shall strictly examine the\ncircumstances and requisites which Aristotle requires[39] to true and\nperfect valour, we shall find the name only in his master, Alexander,\nand as little in that Roman worthy, Julius C\u00e6sar; and if any, in that\neasy and active way, have done so nobly as to deserve that name, yet,\nin the passive and more terrible piece, these have surpassed, and in\na more heroical way may claim, the honour of that title. \u2019Tis not in\nthe power of every honest faith to proceed thus far, or pass to heaven\nthrough the flames. Every one hath it not in that full measure, nor in\nso audacious and resolute a temper, as to endure those terrible tests\nand trials; who, notwithstanding, in a peaceable way, do truly adore\ntheir Saviour, and have, no doubt, a faith acceptable in the eyes of\nGod.\n\n_Sect._ 26.--Now, as all that die in the war are not termed soldiers,\nso neither can I properly term all those that suffer in matters of\nreligion, martyrs. The council of Constance condemns John Huss for a\nheretick;[40] the stories of his own party style him a martyr. He must\nneeds offend the divinity of both, that says he was neither the one\nnor the other. There are many (questionless) canonized on earth, that\nshall never be saints in heaven; and have their names in histories and\nmartyrologies, who, in the eyes of God, are not so perfect martyrs as\nwas that wise heathen Socrates, that suffered on a fundamental point\nof religion,--the unity of God. I have often pitied the miserable\nbishop[41] that suffered in the cause of antipodes; yet cannot choose\nbut accuse him of as much madness, for exposing his living on such a\ntrifle, as those of ignorance and folly, that condemned him. I think\nmy conscience will not give me the lie, if I say there are not many\nextant, that, in a noble way, fear the face of death less than myself;\nyet, from the moral duty I owe to the commandment of God, and the\nnatural respect that I tender unto the conservation of my essence\nand being, I would not perish upon a ceremony, politick points, or\nindifferency: nor is my belief of that untractable temper as, not to\nbow at their obstacles, or connive at matters wherein there are not\nmanifest impieties. The leaven, therefore, and ferment of all, not only\ncivil, but religious, actions, is wisdom; without which, to commit\nourselves to the flames is homicide, and (I fear) but to pass through\none fire into another.\n\n_Sect._ 27.--That miracles are ceased, I can neither prove nor\nabsolutely deny, much less define the time and period of their\ncessation. That they survived Christ is manifest upon record of\nScripture: that they outlived the apostles also, and were revived at\nthe conversion of nations, many years after, we cannot deny, if we\nshall not question those writers whose testimonies we do not controvert\nin points that make for our own opinions: therefore, that may have\nsome truth in it, that is reported by the Jesuits of their miracles\nin the Indies. I could wish it were true, or had any other testimony\nthan their own pens. They may easily believe those miracles abroad, who\ndaily conceive a greater at home--the transmutation of those visible\nelements into the body and blood of our Saviour;--for the conversion\nof water into wine, which he wrought in Cana, or, what the devil would\nhave had him done in the wilderness, of stones into bread, compared\nto this, will scarce deserve the name of a miracle: though, indeed,\nto speak properly, there is not one miracle greater than another;\nthey being the extraordinary effects of the hand of God, to which all\nthings are of an equal facility; and to create the world as easy as\none single creature. For this is also a miracle; not only to produce\neffects against or above nature, but before nature; and to create\nnature, as great a miracle as to contradict or transcend her. We do too\nnarrowly define the power of God, restraining it to our capacities. I\nhold that God can do all things: how he should work contradictions,\nI do not understand, yet dare not, therefore, deny. I cannot see why\nthe angel of God should question Esdras to recall the time past, if\nit were beyond his own power; or that God should pose mortality in\nthat which he was not able to perform himself. I will not say that God\ncannot, but he will not, perform many things, which we plainly affirm\nhe cannot. This, I am sure, is the mannerliest proposition; wherein,\nnotwithstanding, I hold no paradox: for, strictly, his power is the\nsame with his will; and they both, with all the rest, do make but one\nGod.\n\n_Sect._ 28.--Therefore, that miracles have been, I do believe; that\nthey may yet be wrought by the living, I do not deny: but have no\nconfidence in those which are fathered on the dead. And this hath ever\nmade me suspect the efficacy of relicks, to examine the bones, question\nthe habits and appertenances of saints, and even of Christ himself. I\ncannot conceive why the cross that Helena[42] found, and whereon Christ\nhimself died, should have power to restore others unto life. I excuse\nnot Constantine from a fall off his horse, or a mischief from his\nenemies, upon the wearing those nails on his bridle which our Saviour\nbore upon the cross in his hands. I compute among _pi\u00e6 fraudes_, nor\nmany degrees before consecrated swords and roses, that which Baldwin,\nking of Jerusalem, returned the Genoese for their costs and pains in\nhis wars; to wit, the ashes of John the Baptist. Those that hold, the\nsanctity of their souls doth leave behind a tincture and sacred faculty\non their bodies, speak naturally of miracles, and do not salve the\ndoubt. Now, one reason I tender so little devotion unto relicks is, I\nthink the slender and doubtful respect which I have always held unto\nantiquities. For that, indeed, which I admire, is far before antiquity;\nthat is, Eternity; and that is, God himself; who, though he be styled\nthe Ancient of Days, cannot receive the adjunct of antiquity, who was\nbefore the world, and shall be after it, yet is not older than it: for,\nin his years there is no climacter:[43] his duration is eternity; and\nfar more venerable than antiquity.\n\n_Sect._ 29.--But, above all things, I wonder how the curiosity of wiser\nheads could pass that great and indisputable miracle, the cessation of\noracles; and in what swoon their reasons lay, to content themselves,\nand sit down with such a far-fetched and ridiculous reason as Plutarch\nallegeth for it.[44] The Jews, that can believe the supernatural\nsolstice of the sun in the days of Joshua, have yet the impudence\nto deny the eclipse, which every pagan confessed, at his death; but\nfor this, it is evident beyond all contradiction: the devil himself\nconfessed it.[H] Certainly it is not a warrantable curiosity, to\nexamine the verity of Scripture by the concordance of human history;\nor seek to confirm the chronicle of Hester or Daniel by the authority\nof Megasthenes[45] or Herodotus. I confess, I have had an unhappy\ncuriosity this way, till I laughed myself out of it with a piece of\nJustin, where he delivers that the children of Israel, for being\nscabbed, were banished out of Egypt. And truly, since I have understood\nthe occurrences of the world, and know in what counterfeiting shapes\nand deceitful visards times present represent on the stage things past,\nI do believe them little more than things to come. Some have been of my\nown opinion, and endeavoured to write the history of their own lives;\nwherein Moses hath outgone them all, and left not only the story of his\nlife, but, as some will have it, of his death also.\n\n[H] In his oracle to Augustus.\n\n_Sect._ 30.--It is a riddle to me, how the story of oracles hath not\nwormed out of the world that doubtful conceit of spirits and witches;\nhow so many learned heads should so far forget their metaphysicks, and\ndestroy the ladder and scale of creatures, as to question the existence\nof spirits; for my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that\nthere are witches. They that doubt of these do not only deny them,\nbut spirits: and are obliquely, and upon consequence, a sort, not of\ninfidels, but atheists. Those that, to confute their incredulity,\ndesire to see apparitions, shall, questionless, never behold any, nor\nhave the power to be so much as witches. The devil hath made them\nalready in a heresy as capital as witchcraft; and to appear to them\nwere but to convert them. Of all the delusions wherewith he deceives\nmortality, there is not any that puzzleth me more than the legerdemain\nof changelings.[46] I do not credit those transformations of reasonable\ncreatures into beasts, or that the devil hath a power to transpeciate\na man into a horse, who tempted Christ (as a trial of his divinity) to\nconvert but stones into bread. I could believe that spirits use with\nman the act of carnality; and that in both sexes. I conceive they may\nassume, steal, or contrive a body, wherein there may be action enough\nto content decrepit lust, or passion to satisfy more active veneries;\nyet, in both, without a possibility of generation: and therefore\nthat opinion, that Antichrist should be born of the tribe of Dan, by\nconjunction with the devil, is ridiculous, and a conceit fitter for a\nrabbin than a Christian. I hold that the devil doth really possess some\nmen; the spirit of melancholy others; the spirit of delusion others:\nthat, as the devil is concealed and denied by some, so God and good\nangels are pretended by others, whereof the late defection of the maid\nof Germany hath left a pregnant example.[47]\n\n_Sect._ 31.--Again, I believe that all that use sorceries,\nincantations, and spells, are not witches, or, as we term them,\nmagicians. I conceive there is a traditional magick, not learned\nimmediately from the devil, but at second hand from his scholars, who,\nhaving once the secret betrayed, are able and do empirically practise\nwithout his advice; they both proceeding upon the principles of nature;\nwhere actives, aptly conjoined to disposed passives, will, under any\nmaster, produce their effects. Thus, I think, at first, a great part\nof philosophy was witchcraft; which, being afterward derived to one\nanother, proved but philosophy, and was indeed no more than the honest\neffects of nature:--what invented by us, is philosophy; learned from\nhim, is magick. We do surely owe the discovery of many secrets to the\ndiscovery of good and bad angels. I could never pass that sentence\nof Paracelsus without an asterisk, or annotation: \u201c_ascendens[I]\nconstellatum multa revelat qu\u00e6rentibus magnalia natur\u00e6_, i.e. _opera\nDei_.\u201d I do think that many mysteries ascribed to our own inventions\nhave been the corteous revelations of spirits; for those noble essences\nin heaven bear a friendly regard unto their fellow-nature on earth; and\ntherefore believe that those many prodigies and ominous prognosticks,\nwhich forerun the ruins of states, princes, and private persons,\nare the charitable premonitions of good angels, which more careless\ninquiries term but the effects of chance and nature.\n\n[I] Thereby is meant our good angel, appointed us from our nativity.\n\n_Sect._ 32.--Now, besides these particular and divided spirits, there\nmay be (for aught I know) a universal and common spirit to the whole\nworld. It was the opinion of Plato, and is yet of the hermetical\nphilosophers. If there be a common nature, that unites and ties the\nscattered and divided individuals into one species, why may there not\nbe one that unites them all? However, I am sure there is a common\nspirit, that plays within us, yet makes no part in us; and that is,\nthe spirit of God; the fire and scintillation of that noble and mighty\nessence, which is the life and radical heat of spirits, and those\nessences that know not the virtue of the sun; a fire quite contrary to\nthe fire of hell. This is that gentle heat that brooded on the waters,\nand in six days hatched the world; this is that irradiation that\ndispels the mists of hell, the clouds of horror, fear, sorrow, despair;\nand preserves the region of the mind in serenity. Whatsoever feels not\nthe warm gale and gentle ventilation of this spirit (though I feel his\npulse), I dare not say he lives; for truly without this, to me, there\nis no heat under the tropick; nor any light, though I dwelt in the body\nof the sun.\n\n    \u201cAs when the labouring sun hath wrought his track\n    Up to the top of lofty Cancer\u2019s back,\n    The icy ocean cracks, the frozen pole\n    Thaws with the heat of the celestial coal;\n    So when thy absent beams begin t\u2019 impart\n    Again a solstice on my frozen heart,\n    My winter\u2019s o\u2019er, my drooping spirits sing,\n    And every part revives into a spring.\n    But if thy quickening beams a while decline,\n    And with their light bless not this orb of mine,\n    A chilly frost surpriseth every member.\n    And in the midst of June I feel December.\n    Oh how this earthly temper doth debase\n    The noble soul, in this her humble place!\n    Whose wingy nature ever doth aspire\n    To reach that place whence first it took its fire.\n    These flames I feel, which in my heart do dwell,\n    Are not thy beams, but take their fire from hell.\n    Oh quench them all! and let thy Light divine\n    Be as the sun to this poor orb of mine!\n    And to thy sacred Spirit convert those fires,\n    Whose earthly fumes choke my devout aspires!\u201d\n\n_Sect._ 33.--Therefore, for spirits, I am so far from denying their\nexistence, that I could easily believe, that not only whole countries,\nbut particular persons, have their tutelary and guardian angels. It is\nnot a new opinion of the Church of Rome, but an old one of Pythagoras\nand Plato: there is no heresy in it: and if not manifestly defined in\nScripture, yet it is an opinion of a good and wholesome use in the\ncourse and actions of a man\u2019s life; and would serve as an hypothesis\nto salve many doubts, whereof common philosophy affordeth no solution.\nNow, if you demand my opinion and metaphysicks of their natures, I\nconfess them very shallow; most of them in a negative way, like that\nof God; or in a comparative, between ourselves and fellow-creatures:\nfor there is in this universe a stair, or manifest scale, of creatures,\nrising not disorderly, or in confusion, but with a comely method and\nproportion. Between creatures of mere existence and things of life\nthere is a large disproportion of nature: between plants and animals,\nor creatures of sense, a wider difference: between them and man, a\nfar greater: and if the proportion hold on, between man and angels\nthere should be yet a greater. We do not comprehend their natures,\nwho retain the first definition of Porphyry;[48] and distinguish them\nfrom ourselves by immortality: for, before his fall, man also was\nimmortal: yet must we needs affirm that he had a different essence\nfrom the angels. Having, therefore, no certain knowledge of their\nnature, \u2019tis no bad method of the schools, whatsoever perfection we\nfind obscurely in ourselves, in a more complete and absolute way to\nascribe unto them. I believe they have an extemporary knowledge, and,\nupon the first motion of their reason, do what we cannot without study\nor deliberation: that they know things by their forms, and define, by\nspecifical difference what we describe by accidents and properties: and\ntherefore probabilities to us may be demonstrations unto them: that\nthey have knowledge not only of the specifical, but numerical, forms\nof individuals, and understand by what reserved difference each single\nhypostatis (besides the relation to its species) becomes its numerical\nself: that, as the soul hath a power to move the body it informs, so\nthere\u2019s a faculty to move any, though inform none: ours upon restraint\nof time, place, and distance: but that invisible hand that conveyed\nHabakkuk to the lion\u2019s den, or Philip to Azotus, infringeth this rule,\nand hath a secret conveyance, wherewith mortality is not acquainted.\nIf they have that intuitive knowledge, whereby, as in reflection, they\nbehold the thoughts of one another, I cannot peremptorily deny but\nthey know a great part of ours. They that, to refute the invocation\nof saints, have denied that they have any knowledge of our affairs\nbelow, have proceeded too far, and must pardon my opinion, till I can\nthoroughly answer that piece of Scripture, \u201cAt the conversion of a\nsinner, the angels in heaven rejoice.\u201d I cannot, with those in that\ngreat father,[49] securely interpret the work of the first day, _fiat\nlux_, to the creation of angels; though I confess there is not any\ncreature that hath so near a glimpse of their nature as light in the\nsun and elements: we style it a bare accident; but, where it subsists\nalone, \u2019tis a spiritual substance, and may be an angel: in brief,\nconceive light invisible, and that is a spirit.\n\n_Sect._ 34.--These are certainly the magisterial and masterpieces of\nthe Creator; the flower, or, as we may say, the best part of nothing;\nactually existing, what we are but in hopes, and probability. We\nare only that amphibious piece, between a corporeal and a spiritual\nessence; that middle form, that links those two together, and makes\ngood the method of God and nature, that jumps not from extremes, but\nunites the incompatible distances by some middle and participating\nnatures. That we are the breath and similitude of God, it is\nindisputable, and upon record of Holy Scripture: but to call ourselves\na microcosm, or little world, I thought it only a pleasant trope of\nrhetorick, till my near judgment and second thoughts told me there was\na real truth therein. For, first we are a rude mass, and in the rank\nof creatures which only are, and have a dull kind of being, not yet\nprivileged with life, or preferred to sense or reason; next we live the\nlife of plants, the life of animals, the life of men, and at last the\nlife of spirits: running on, in one mysterious nature, those five kinds\nof existencies, which comprehend the creatures, not only of the world,\nbut of the universe. Thus is man that great and true _amphibium_, whose\nnature is disposed to live, not only like other creatures in divers\nelements, but in divided and distinguished worlds; for though there be\nbut one to sense, there are two to reason, the one visible, the other\ninvisible; whereof Moses seems to have left description, and of the\nother so obscurely, that some parts thereof are yet in controversy.\nAnd truly, for the first chapters of Genesis, I must confess a great\ndeal of obscurity; though divines have, to the power of human reason,\nendeavoured to make all go in a literal meaning, yet those allegorical\ninterpretations are also probable, and perhaps the mystical method of\nMoses, bred up in the hieroglyphical schools of the Egyptians.\n\n_Sect._ 35.--Now for that immaterial world, methinks we need not wander\nso far as the first moveable; for, even in this material fabrick, the\nspirits walk as freely exempt from the affection of time, place, and\nmotion, as beyond the extremest circumference. Do but extract from the\ncorpulency of bodies, or resolve things beyond their first matter, and\nyou discover the habitation of angels; which if I call the ubiquitary\nand omnipresent essence of God, I hope I shall not offend divinity:\nfor, before the creation of the world, God was really all things.\nFor the angels he created no new world, or determinate mansion, and\ntherefore they are everywhere where is his essence, and do live, at a\ndistance even, in himself. That God made all things for man, is in some\nsense true; yet, not so far as to subordinate the creation of those\npurer creatures unto ours; though, as ministering spirits, they do,\nand are willing to fulfil the will of God in these lower and sublunary\naffairs of man. God made all things for himself; and it is impossible\nhe should make them for any other end than his own glory: it is all\nhe can receive, and all that is without himself. For, honour being\nan external adjunct, and in the honourer rather than in the person\nhonoured, it was necessary to make a creature, from whom he might\nreceive this homage: and that is, in the other world, angels, in this,\nman; which when we neglect, we forget God, not only to repent that\nhe hath made the world, but that he hath sworn he would not destroy\nit. That there is but one world, is a conclusion of faith; Aristotle\nwith all his philosophy hath not been able to prove it: and as weakly\nthat the world was eternal; that dispute much troubled the pen of the\nphilosophers, but Moses decided that question, and all is salved with\nthe new term of a creation,--that is, a production of something out of\nnothing. And what is that?--whatsoever is opposite to something; or,\nmore exactly, that which is truly contrary unto God: for he only is;\nall others have an existence with dependency, and are something but by\na distinction. And herein is divinity conformant unto philosophy, and\ngeneration not only founded on contrarieties, but also creation. God,\nbeing all things, is contrary unto nothing; out of which were made\nall things, and so nothing became something, and omneity[50] informed\nnullity into an essence.\n\n_Sect._ 36.--The whole creation is a mystery, and particularly that of\nman. At the blast of his mouth were the rest of the creatures made;\nand at his bare word they started out of nothing: but in the frame of\nman (as the text describes it) he played the sensible operator, and\nseemed not so much to create as make him. When he had separated the\nmaterials of other creatures, there consequently resulted a form and\nsoul; but, having raised the walls of man, he was driven to a second\nand harder creation,--of a substance like himself, an incorruptible\nand immortal soul. For these two affections we have the philosophy\nand opinion of the heathens, the flat affirmative of Plato, and not a\nnegative from Aristotle. There is another scruple cast in by divinity\nconcerning its production, much disputed in the German auditories,\nand with that indifferency and equality of arguments, as leave the\ncontroversy undetermined. I am not of Paracelsus\u2019s mind, that boldly\ndelivers a receipt to make a man without conjunction; yet cannot but\nwonder at the multitude of heads that do deny traduction, having no\nother arguments to confirm their belief than that rhetorical sentence\nand _antimetathesis_[51] of Augustine, \u201c_creando infunditur, infundendo\ncreatur_.\u201d Either opinion will consist well enough with religion: yet\nI should rather incline to this, did not one objection haunt me, not\nwrung from speculations and subtleties, but from common sense and\nobservation; not pick\u2019d from the leaves of any author, but bred amongst\nthe weeds and tares of my own brain. And this is a conclusion from the\nequivocal and monstrous productions in the copulation of a man with a\nbeast: for if the soul of man be not transmitted and transfused in the\nseed of the parents, why are not those productions merely beasts, but\nhave also an impression and tincture of reason in as high a measure,\nas it can evidence itself in those improper organs? Nor, truly, can\nI peremptorily deny that the soul, in this her sublunary estate,\nis wholly, and in all acceptions, inorganical: but that, for the\nperformance of her ordinary actions, is required not only a symmetry\nand proper disposition of organs, but a crasis and temper correspondent\nto its operations; yet is not this mass of flesh and visible structure\nthe instrument and proper corpse of the soul, but rather of sense,\nand that the hand of reason. In our study of anatomy there is a mass\nof mysterious philosophy, and such as reduced the very heathens to\ndivinity; yet, amongst all those rare discoveries and curious pieces I\nfind in the fabrick of man, I do not so much content myself, as in that\nI find not,--that is, no organ or instrument for the rational soul; for\nin the brain, which we term the seat of reason, there is not anything\nof moment more than I can discover in the crany of a beast; and this\nis a sensible and no inconsiderable argument of the inorganity of the\nsoul, at least in that sense we usually so conceive it. Thus we are\nmen, and we know not how; there is something in us that can be without\nus, and will be after us, though it is strange that it hath no history\nwhat it was before us, nor cannot tell how it entered in us.\n\n_Sect._ 37.--Now, for these walls of flesh, wherein the soul doth seem\nto be immured before the resurrection, it is nothing but an elemental\ncomposition, and a fabrick that must fall to ashes. \u201cAll flesh is\ngrass,\u201d is not only metaphorically, but literally, true; for all those\ncreatures we behold are but the herbs of the field, digested into\nflesh in them, or more remotely carnified in ourselves. Nay, further,\nwe are what we all abhor, _anthropophagi_, and cannibals, devourers\nnot only of men, but of ourselves; and that not in an allegory but a\npositive truth: for all this mass of flesh which we behold, came in\nat our mouths: this frame we look upon, hath been upon our trenchers;\nin brief, we have devoured ourselves. I cannot believe the wisdom of\nPythagoras did ever positively, and in a literal sense, affirm his\nmetempsychosis, or impossible transmigration of the souls of men into\nbeasts. Of all metamorphoses or transmigrations, I believe only one,\nthat is of Lot\u2019s wife; for that of Nabuchodonosor proceeded not so far.\nIn all others I conceive there is no further verity than is contained\nin their implicit sense and morality. I believe that the whole frame\nof a beast doth perish, and is left in the same state after death as\nbefore it was materialled unto life: that the souls of men know neither\ncontrary nor corruption; that they subsist beyond the body, and outlive\ndeath by the privilege of their proper natures, and without a miracle:\nthat the souls of the faithful, as they leave earth, take possession of\nheaven; that those apparitions and ghosts of departed persons are not\nthe wandering souls of men, but the unquiet walks of devils, prompting\nand suggesting us unto mischief, blood, and villany; instilling and\nstealing into our hearts that the blessed spirits are not at rest in\ntheir graves, but wander, solicitous of the affairs of the world.\nBut that those phantasms appear often, and do frequent cemeteries,\ncharnel-houses, and churches, it is because those are the dormitories\nof the dead, where the devil, like an insolent champion, beholds with\npride the spoils and trophies of his victory over Adam.\n\n_Sect._ 38.--This is that dismal conquest we all deplore, that\nmakes us so often cry, O Adam, _quid fecisti?_ I thank God I have\nnot those strait ligaments, or narrow obligations to the world, as\nto dote on life, or be convulsed and tremble at the name of death.\nNot that I am insensible of the dread and horror thereof; or, by\nraking into the bowels of the deceased, continual sight of anatomies,\nskeletons, or cadaverous relicks, like vespilloes, or gravemakers, I\nam become stupid, or have forgot the apprehension of mortality; but\nthat, marshalling all the horrors, and contemplating the extremities\nthereof, I find not anything therein able to daunt the courage of a\nman, much less a well-resolved Christian; and therefore am not angry\nat the error of our first parents, or unwilling to bear a part of this\ncommon fate, and, like the best of them, to die; that is, to cease to\nbreathe, to take a farewell of the elements; to be a kind of nothing\nfor a moment; to be within one instant of a spirit. When I take a full\nview and circle of myself without this reasonable moderator, and equal\npiece of justice, death, I do conceive myself the miserablest person\nextant. Were there not another life that I hope for, all the vanities\nof this world should not entreat a moment\u2019s breath from me. Could the\ndevil work my belief to imagine I could never die, I would not outlive\nthat very thought. I have so abject a conceit of this common way of\nexistence, this retaining to the sun and elements, I cannot think this\nis to be a man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity. In\nexpectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this life; yet,\nin my best meditations, do often defy death. I honour any man that\ncontemns it; nor can I highly love any that is afraid of it: this makes\nme naturally love a soldier, and honour those tattered and contemptible\nregiments, that will die at the command of a sergeant. For a pagan\nthere may be some motives to be in love with life; but, for a Christian\nto be amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this dilemma--that\nhe is too sensible of this life, or hopeless of the life to come.\n\n_Sect._ 39.--Some divines[52] count Adam thirty years old at his\ncreation, because they suppose him created in the perfect age and\nstature of man: and surely we are all out of the computation of our\nage; and every man is some months older than he bethinks him; for\nwe live, move, have a being, and are subject to the actions of the\nelements, and the malice of diseases, in that other world, the truest\nmicrocosm, the womb of our mother; for besides that general and common\nexistence we are conceived to hold in our chaos, and whilst we sleep\nwithin the bosom of our causes, we enjoy a being and life in three\ndistinct worlds, wherein we receive most manifest gradations. In that\nobscure world, the womb of our mother, our time is short, computed\nby the moon; yet longer than the days of many creatures that behold\nthe sun; ourselves being not yet without life, sense, and reason;[53]\nthough, for the manifestation of its actions, it awaits the opportunity\nof objects, and seems to live there but in its root and soul of\nvegetation. Entering afterwards upon the scene of the world, we arise\nup and become another creature; performing the reasonable actions\nof man, and obscurely manifesting that part of divinity in us, but\nnot in complement and perfection, till we have once more cast our\nsecundine, that is, this slough of flesh, and are delivered into the\nlast world, that is, that ineffable place of Paul, that proper _ubi_\nof spirits. The smattering I have of the philosopher\u2019s stone (which is\nsomething more than the perfect exaltation[54] of gold) hath taught me\na great deal of divinity, and instructed my belief, how that immortal\nspirit and incorruptible substance of my soul may lie obscure, and\nsleep a while within this house of flesh. Those strange and mystical\ntransmigrations that I have observed in silkworms turned my philosophy\ninto divinity. There is in these works of nature, which seem to puzzle\nreason, something divine; and hath more in it than the eye of a common\nspectator doth discover.\n\n_Sect._ 40.--I am naturally bashful; nor hath conversation, age, or\ntravel, been able to effront or enharden me; yet I have one part of\nmodesty, which I have seldom discovered in another, that is (to speak\ntruly), I am not so much afraid of death as ashamed thereof; \u2019tis\nthe very disgrace and ignominy of our natures, that in a moment can\nso disfigure us, that our nearest friends, wife, and children, stand\nafraid, and start at us. The birds and beasts of the field, that\nbefore, in a natural fear, obeyed us, forgetting all allegiance, begin\nto prey upon us. This very conceit hath, in a tempest, disposed and\nleft me willing to be swallowed up in the abyss of waters, wherein I\nhad perished unseen, unpitied, without wondering eyes, tears of pity,\nlectures of mortality, and none had said, \u201c_Quantum mutatus ab illo!_\u201d\nNot that I am ashamed of the anatomy of my parts, or can accuse nature\nof playing the bungler in any part of me, or my own vicious life for\ncontracting any shameful disease upon me, whereby I might not call\nmyself as wholesome a morsel for the worms as any.\n\n_Sect._ 41.--Some, upon the courage of a fruitful issue, wherein,\nas in the truest chronicle, they seem to outlive themselves, can\nwith greater patience away with death. This conceit and counterfeit\nsubsisting in our progenies seems to be a mere fallacy, unworthy the\ndesire of a man, that can but conceive a thought of the next world;\nwho, in a nobler ambition, should desire to live in his substance in\nheaven, rather than his name and shadow in the earth. And therefore,\nat my death, I mean to take a total adieu of the world, not caring for\na monument, history, or epitaph; not so much as the bare memory of my\nname to be found anywhere, but in the universal register of God. I am\nnot yet so cynical, as to approve the testament of Diogenes,[J] nor do\nI altogether allow that rodomontado of Lucan;[K]\n\n[J] Who willed his friend not to bury him, but to hang him up with a\nstaff in his hand, to fright away the crows.\n\n[K] \u201cPharsalia,\u201d vii. 819.\n\n    -----\u201c_C\u0153lo tegitur, qui non habet urnam._\u201d\n\n    He that unburied lies wants not his hearse;\n    For unto him a tomb\u2019s the universe.\n\nbut commend, in my calmer judgment, those ingenuous intentions that\ndesire to sleep by the urns of their fathers, and strive to go the\nneatest way unto corruption. I do not envy the temper[55] of crows and\ndaws, nor the numerous and weary days of our fathers before the flood.\nIf there be any truth in astrology, I may outlive a jubilee;[56] as\nyet I have not seen one revolution of Saturn,[57] nor hath my pulse\nbeat thirty years, and yet, excepting one,[58] have seen the ashes of,\nand left under ground, all the kings of Europe; have been contemporary\nto three emperors, four grand signiors, and as many popes: methinks I\nhave outlived myself, and begin to be weary of the sun; I have shaken\nhands with delight in my warm blood and canicular days; I perceive\nI do anticipate the vices of age; the world to me is but a dream or\nmock-show, and we all therein but pantaloons and anticks, to my severer\ncontemplations.\n\n_Sect._ 42.--It is not, I confess, an unlawful prayer to desire to\nsurpass the days of our Saviour, or wish to outlive that age wherein\nhe thought fittest to die; yet, if (as divinity affirms) there shall\nbe no grey hairs in heaven, but all shall rise in the perfect state\nof men, we do but outlive those perfections in this world, to be\nrecalled unto them by a greater miracle in the next, and run on here\nbut to be retrograde hereafter. Were there any hopes to outlive vice,\nor a point to be superannuated from sin, it were worthy our knees to\nimplore the days of Methuselah. But age doth not rectify, but incurvate\nour natures, turning bad dispositions into worser habits, and (like\ndiseases) brings on incurable vices; for every day, as we grow weaker\nin age, we grow stronger in sin, and the number of our days doth but\nmake our sins innumerable. The same vice, committed at sixteen, is not\nthe same, though it agrees in all other circumstances, as at forty; but\nswells and doubles from the circumstance of our ages, wherein, besides\nthe constant and inexcusable habit of transgressing, the maturity of\nour judgment cuts off pretence unto excuse or pardon. Every sin, the\noftener it is committed, the more it acquireth in the quality of evil;\nas it succeeds in time, so it proceeds in degrees of badness; for as\nthey proceed they ever multiply, and, like figures in arithmetick,\nthe last stands for more than all that went before it. And, though I\nthink no man can live well once, but he that could live twice, yet, for\nmy own part, I would not live over my hours past, or begin again the\nthread of my days; not upon Cicero\u2019s ground,[L] because I have lived\nthem well, but for fear I should live them worse. I find my growing\njudgment daily instruct me how to be better, but my untamed affections\nand confirmed vitiosity make me daily do worse. I find in my confirmed\nage the same sins I discovered in my youth; I committed many then\nbecause I was a child; and, because I commit them still, I am yet an\ninfant. Therefore I perceive a man may be twice a child, before the\ndays of dotage; and stand in need of \u00c6son\u2019s bath[59] before threescore.\n\n[L] _Ep._ lib. xxiv. ep. 24.\n\n_Sect._ 43.--And truly there goes a deal of providence to produce a\nman\u2019s life unto threescore; there is more required than an able temper\nfor those years: though the radical humour contain in it sufficient oil\nfor seventy, yet I perceive in some it gives no light past thirty: men\nassign not all the causes of long life, that write whole books thereof.\nThey that found themselves on the radical balsam, or vital sulphur of\nthe parts, determine not why Abel lived not so long as Adam. There is\ntherefore a secret gloom or bottom of our days: \u2019twas his wisdom to\ndetermine them: but his perpetual and waking providence that fulfils\nand accomplisheth them; wherein the spirits, ourselves, and all the\ncreatures of God, in a secret and disputed way, do execute his will.\nLet them not therefore complain of immaturity that die about thirty:\nthey fall but like the whole world, whose solid and well-composed\nsubstance must not expect the duration and period of its constitution:\nwhen all things are completed in it, its age is accomplished; and\nthe last and general fever may as naturally destroy it before six\nthousand,[60] as me before forty. There is therefore some other hand\nthat twines the thread of life than that of nature: we are not only\nignorant in antipathies and occult qualities; our ends are as obscure\nas our beginnings; the line of our days is drawn by night, and the\nvarious effects therein by a pencil that is invisible; wherein, though\nwe confess our ignorance, I am sure we do not err if we say, it is the\nhand of God.\n\n_Sect._ 44.--I am much taken with two verses of Lucan, since I have\nbeen able not only, as we do at school, to construe, but understand:\n\n    \u201c_Victurosque Dei celant ut vivere durent,\n    Felix esse mori._\u201d[M]\n\n[M] _Pharsalia_, iv. 519.\n\n    We\u2019re all deluded, vainly searching ways\n    To make us happy by the length of days;\n    For cunningly, to make\u2019s protract this breath,\n    The gods conceal the happiness of death.\n\nThere be many excellent strains in that poet, wherewith his stoical\ngenius hath liberally supplied him: and truly there are singular pieces\nin the philosophy of Zeno,[61] and doctrine of the stoics, which I\nperceive, delivered in a pulpit, pass for current divinity: yet herein\nare they in extremes, that can allow a man to be his own assassin, and\nso highly extol the end and suicide of Cato. This is indeed not to\nfear death, but yet to be afraid of life. It is a brave act of valour\nto contemn death; but, where life is more terrible than death, it is\nthen the truest valour to dare to live: and herein religion hath taught\nus a noble example; for all the valiant acts of Curtius, Sc\u00e6vola, or\nCodrus, do not parallel, or match, that one of Job; and sure there is\nno torture to the rack of a disease, nor any poniards in death itself,\nlike those in the way or prologue unto it. \u201c_Emori nolo, sed me esse\nmortuum nihil curo_;\u201d I would not die, but care not to be dead. Were I\nof C\u00e6sar\u2019s religion,[62] I should be of his desires, and wish rather to\ngo off at one blow, than to be sawed in pieces by the grating torture\nof a disease. Men that look no further than their outsides, think\nhealth an appurtenance unto life, and quarrel with their constitutions\nfor being sick; but I, that have examined the parts of man, and know\nupon what tender filaments that fabrick hangs, do wonder that we are\nnot always so; and, considering the thousand doors that lead to death,\ndo thank my God that we can die but once. \u2019Tis not only the mischief of\ndiseases, and the villany of poisons, that make an end of us; we vainly\naccuse the fury of guns, and the new inventions of death:--it is in\nthe power of every hand to destroy us, and we are beholden unto every\none we meet, he doth not kill us. There is therefore but one comfort\nleft, that though it be in the power of the weakest arm to take away\nlife, it is not in the strongest to deprive us of death. God would\nnot exempt himself from that; the misery of immortality in the flesh\nhe undertook not, that was immortal. Certainly there is no happiness\nwithin this circle of flesh; nor is it in the opticks of these eyes\nto behold felicity. The first day of our jubilee is death; the devil\nhath therefore failed of his desires; we are happier with death than\nwe should have been without it: there is no misery but in himself,\nwhere there is no end of misery; and so indeed, in his own sense, the\nstoic is in the right.[63] He forgets that he can die, who complains of\nmisery: we are in the power of no calamity while death is in our own.\n\n_Sect._ 45.--Now, besides this literal and positive kind of death,\nthere are others whereof divines make mention, and those, I think,\nnot merely metaphorical, as mortification, dying unto sin and the\nworld. Therefore, I say, every man hath a double horoscope; one of his\nhumanity,--his birth, another of his Christianity,--his baptism: and\nfrom this do I compute or calculate my nativity; not reckoning those\n_hor\u00e6 combust\u00e6_,[64] and odd days, or esteeming myself anything, before\nI was my Saviour\u2019s and enrolled in the register of Christ. Whosoever\nenjoys not this life, I count him but an apparition, though he wear\nabout him the sensible affections of flesh. In these moral acceptions,\nthe way to be immortal is to die daily; nor can I think I have the\ntrue theory of death, when I contemplate a skull or behold a skeleton\nwith those vulgar imaginations it casts upon us. I have therefore\nenlarged that common _memento mori_ into a more Christian memorandum,\n_memento quatuor novissima_,--those four inevitable points of us all,\ndeath, judgment, heaven, and hell. Neither did the contemplations\nof the heathens rest in their graves, without a further thought, of\nRhadamanth[65] or some judicial proceeding after death, though in\nanother way, and upon suggestion of their natural reasons. I cannot but\nmarvel from what sibyl or oracle they stole the prophecy of the world\u2019s\ndestruction by fire, or whence Lucan learned to say--\n\n    \u201c_Communis mundo superest rogus, ossibus astra\n    Misturus----_\u201d[N]\n\n[N] _Pharsalia_, vii. 814.\n\n    There yet remains to th\u2019 world one common fire,\n    Wherein our bones with stars shall make one pyre.\n\nI believe the world grows near its end; yet is neither old nor decayed,\nnor will ever perish upon the ruins of its own principles. As the work\nof creation was above nature, so its adversary, annihilation; without\nwhich the world hath not its end, but its mutation. Now, what force\nshould be able to consume it thus far, without the breath of God, which\nis the truest consuming flame, my philosophy cannot inform me. Some\nbelieve there went not a minute to the world\u2019s creation, nor shall\nthere go to its destruction; those six days, so punctually described,\nmake not to them one moment, but rather seem to manifest the method and\nidea of that great work of the intellect of God than the manner how he\nproceeded in its operation. I cannot dream that there should be at the\nlast day any such judicial proceeding, or calling to the bar, as indeed\nthe Scripture seems to imply, and the literal commentators do conceive:\nfor unspeakable mysteries in the Scriptures are often delivered in\na vulgar and illustrative way, and, being written unto man, are\ndelivered, not as they truly are, but as they may be understood;\nwherein, notwithstanding, the different interpretations according to\ndifferent capacities may stand firm with our devotion, nor be any way\nprejudicial to each single edification.\n\n_Sect._ 46.--Now, to determine the day and year of this inevitable\ntime, is not only convincible and statute madness, but also manifest\nimpiety. How shall we interpret Elias\u2019s six thousand years, or imagine\nthe secret communicated to a Rabbi which God hath denied unto his\nangels? It had been an excellent qu\u00e6re to have posed the devil of\nDelphos, and must needs have forced him to some strange amphibology.\nIt hath not only mocked the predictions of sundry astrologers in ages\npast, but the prophecies of many melancholy heads in these present;\nwho, neither understanding reasonably things past nor present, pretend\na knowledge of things to come; heads ordained only to manifest the\nincredible effects of melancholy and to fulfil old prophecies,[O]\nrather than be the authors of new. \u201cIn those days there shall come wars\nand rumours of wars\u201d to me seems no prophecy, but a constant truth\nin all times verified since it was pronounced. \u201cThere shall be signs\nin the moon and stars;\u201d how comes he then like a thief in the night,\nwhen he gives an item of his coming? That common sign, drawn from the\nrevelation of antichrist, is as obscure as any; in our common compute\nhe hath been come these many years; but, for my own part, to speak\nfreely, I am half of opinion that antichrist is the philosopher\u2019s stone\nin divinity, for the discovery and invention whereof, though there be\nprescribed rules, and probable inductions, yet hath hardly any man\nattained the perfect discovery thereof. That general opinion, that the\nworld grows near its end, hath possessed all ages past as nearly as\nours. I am afraid that the souls that now depart cannot escape that\nlingering expostulation of the saints under the altar, \u201c_quousque,\nDomine?_\u201d how long, O Lord? and groan in the expectation of the great\njubilee.\n\n[O] \u201cIn those days there shall come liars and false prophets.\u201d\n\n_Sect._ 47.--This is the day that must make good that great attribute\nof God, his justice; that must reconcile those unanswerable doubts\nthat torment the wisest understandings; and reduce those seeming\ninequalities and respective distributions in this world, to an equality\nand recompensive justice in the next. This is that one day, that shall\ninclude and comprehend all that went before it; wherein, as in the\nlast scene, all the actors must enter, to complete and make up the\ncatastrophe of this great piece. This is the day whose memory hath,\nonly, power to make us honest in the dark, and to be virtuous without\na witness. \u201c_Ipsa sui pretium virtus sibi_,\u201d that virtue is her own\nreward, is but a cold principle, and not able to maintain our variable\nresolutions in a constant and settled way of goodness. I have practised\nthat honest artifice of Seneca,[66] and, in my retired and solitary\nimaginations to detain me from the foulness of vice, have fancied to\nmyself the presence of my dear and worthiest friends, before whom I\nshould lose my head rather than be vicious; yet herein I found that\nthere was nought but moral honesty; and this was not to be virtuous\nfor his sake who must reward us at the last. I have tried if I could\nreach that great resolution of his, to be honest without a thought of\nheaven or hell; and, indeed I found, upon a natural inclination, and\ninbred loyalty unto virtue, that I could serve her without a livery,\nyet not in that resolved and venerable way, but that the frailty of my\nnature, upon an easy temptation, might be induced to forget her. The\nlife, therefore, and spirit of all our actions is the resurrection,\nand a stable apprehension that our ashes shall enjoy the fruit of our\npious endeavours; without this, all religion is a fallacy, and those\nimpieties of Lucian, Euripides, and Julian, are no blasphemies, but\nsubtile verities; and atheists have been the only philosophers.\n\n_Sect._ 48.--How shall the dead arise, is no question of my faith; to\nbelieve only possibilities is not faith, but mere philosophy. Many\nthings are true in divinity, which are neither inducible by reason\nnor confirmable by sense; and many things in philosophy confirmable\nby sense, yet not inducible by reason. Thus it is impossible, by any\nsolid or demonstrative reasons, to persuade a man to believe the\nconversion of the needle to the north; though this be possible and\ntrue, and easily credible, upon a single experiment unto the sense. I\nbelieve that our estranged and divided ashes shall unite again; that\nour separated dust, after so many pilgrimages and transformations into\nthe parts of minerals, plants, animals, elements, shall, at the voice\nof God, return into their primitive shapes, and join again to make up\ntheir primary and predestinate forms. As at the creation there was a\nseparation of that confused mass into its pieces; so at the destruction\nthereof there shall be a separation into its distinct individuals. As,\nat the creation of the world, all the distinct species that we behold\nlay involved in one mass, till the fruitful voice of God separated this\nunited multitude into its several species, so, at the last day, when\nthose corrupted relicks shall be scattered in the wilderness of forms,\nand seem to have forgot their proper habits, God, by a powerful voice,\nshall command them back into their proper shapes, and call them out\nby their single individuals. Then shall appear the fertility of Adam,\nand the magick of that sperm that hath dilated into so many millions.\nI have often beheld, as a miracle, that artificial resurrection and\nrevivification of mercury, how being mortified into a thousand shapes,\nit assumes again its own, and returns into its numerical self. Let us\nspeak naturally, and like philosophers. The forms of alterable bodies\nin these sensible corruptions perish not; nor, as we imagine, wholly\nquit their mansions; but retire and contract themselves into their\nsecret and unaccessible parts; where they may best protect themselves\nfrom the action of their antagonist. A plant or vegetable consumed\nto ashes to a contemplative and school-philosopher seems utterly\ndestroyed, and the form to have taken his leave for ever; but to a\nsensible artist the forms are not perished, but withdrawn into their\nincombustible part, where they lie secure from the action of that\ndevouring element. This is made good by experience, which can from\nthe ashes of a plant revive the plant, and from its cinders recall\nit into its stalk and leaves again.[67] What the art of man can do\nin these inferior pieces, what blasphemy is it to affirm the finger\nof God cannot do in those more perfect and sensible structures? This\nis that mystical philosophy, from whence no true scholar becomes an\natheist, but from the visible effects of nature grows up a real divine,\nand beholds not in a dream, as Ezekiel, but in an ocular and visible\nobject, the types of his resurrection.\n\n_Sect._ 49.--Now, the necessary mansions of our restored selves are\nthose two contrary and incompatible places we call heaven and hell.\nTo define them, or strictly to determine what and where these are,\nsurpasseth my divinity. That elegant apostle, which seemed to have\na glimpse of heaven, hath left but a negative description thereof;\nwhich \u201cneither eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, nor can enter into\nthe heart of man:\u201d he was translated out of himself to behold it;\nbut, being returned into himself, could not express it. Saint John\u2019s\ndescription by emeralds, chrysolites, and precious stones, is too weak\nto express the material heaven we behold. Briefly, therefore, where\nthe soul hath the full measure and complement of happiness; where\nthe boundless appetite of that spirit remains completely satisfied\nthat it can neither desire addition nor alteration; that, I think, is\ntruly heaven: and this can only be in the enjoyment of that essence,\nwhose infinite goodness is able to terminate the desires of itself,\nand the unsatiable wishes of ours. Wherever God will thus manifest\nhimself, there is heaven, though within the circle of this sensible\nworld. Thus, the soul of man may be in heaven anywhere, even within\nthe limits of his own proper body; and when it ceaseth to live in the\nbody it may remain in its own soul, that is, its Creator. And thus\nwe may say that Saint Paul, whether in the body or out of the body,\nwas yet in heaven. To place it in the empyreal, or beyond the tenth\nsphere, is to forget the world\u2019s destruction; for when this sensible\nworld shall be destroyed, all shall then be here as it is now there,\nan empyreal heaven, a _quasi_ vacuity; when to ask where heaven is, is\nto demand where the presence of God is, or where we have the glory of\nthat happy vision. Moses, that was bred up in all the learning of the\nEgyptians, committed a gross absurdity in philosophy, when with these\neyes of flesh he desired to see God, and petitioned his Maker, that is\ntruth itself, to a contradiction. Those that imagine heaven and hell\nneighbours, and conceive a vicinity between those two extremes, upon\nconsequence of the parable, where Dives discoursed with Lazarus, in\nAbraham\u2019s bosom, do too grossly conceive of those glorified creatures,\nwhose eyes shall easily out-see the sun, and behold without perspective\nthe extremest distances: for if there shall be, in our glorified\neyes, the faculty of sight and reception of objects, I could think\nthe visible species there to be in as unlimitable a way as now the\nintellectual. I grant that two bodies placed beyond the tenth sphere,\nor in a vacuity, according to Aristotle\u2019s philosophy, could not behold\neach other, because there wants a body or medium to hand and transport\nthe visible rays of the object unto the sense; but when there shall\nbe a general defect of either medium to convey, or light to prepare\nand dispose that medium, and yet a perfect vision, we must suspend the\nrules of our philosophy, and make all good by a more absolute piece of\nopticks.\n\n_Sect._ 50.--I cannot tell how to say that fire is the essence of\nhell; I know not what to make of purgatory, or conceive a flame that\ncan either prey upon, or purify the substance of a soul. Those flames\nof sulphur, mentioned in the scriptures, I take not to be understood\nof this present hell, but of that to come, where fire shall make up\nthe complement of our tortures, and have a body or subject whereon to\nmanifest its tyranny. Some who have had the honour to be textuary in\ndivinity are of opinion it shall be the same specifical fire with ours.\nThis is hard to conceive, yet can I make good how even that may prey\nupon our bodies, and yet not consume us: for in this material world,\nthere are bodies that persist invincible in the powerfulest flames; and\nthough, by the action of fire, they fall into ignition and liquation,\nyet will they never suffer a destruction. I would gladly know how\nMoses, with an actual fire, calcined or burnt the golden calf into\npowder: for that mystical metal of gold, whose solary and celestial\nnature I admire, exposed unto the violence of fire, grows only hot,\nand liquefies, but consumeth not; so when the consumable and volatile\npieces of our bodies shall be refined into a more impregnable and fixed\ntemper, like gold, though they suffer from the action of flames, they\nshall never perish, but lie immortal in the arms of fire. And surely,\nif this flame must suffer only by the action of this element, there\nwill many bodies escape; and not only heaven, but earth will not be\nat an end, but rather a beginning. For at present it is not earth,\nbut a composition of fire, water, earth, and air; but at that time,\nspoiled of these ingredients, it shall appear in a substance more like\nitself, its ashes. Philosophers that opinioned the world\u2019s destruction\nby fire, did never dream of annihilation, which is beyond the power of\nsublunary causes; for the last and proper action of that element is but\nvitrification, or a reduction of a body into glass; and therefore some\nof our chymicks facetiously affirm, that, at the last fire, all shall\nbe crystalized and reverberated into glass, which is the utmost action\nof that element. Nor need we fear this term, annihilation, or wonder\nthat God will destroy the works of his creation: for man subsisting,\nwho is, and will then truly appear, a microcosm, the world cannot be\nsaid to be destroyed. For the eyes of God, and perhaps also of our\nglorified selves, shall as really behold and contemplate the world, in\nits epitome or contracted essence, as now it doth at large and in its\ndilated substance. In the seed of a plant, to the eyes of God, and to\nthe understanding of man, there exists, though in an invisible way,\nthe perfect leaves, flowers, and fruit thereof; for things that are in\n_posse_ to the sense, are actually existent to the understanding. Thus\nGod beholds all things, who contemplates as fully his works in their\nepitome as in their full volume, and beheld as amply the whole world,\nin that little compendium of the sixth day, as in the scattered and\ndilated pieces of those five before.\n\n_Sect._ 51.--Men commonly set forth the torments of hell by fire, and\nthe extremity of corporal afflictions, and describe hell in the same\nmethod that Mahomet doth heaven. This indeed makes a noise, and drums\nin popular ears: but if this be the terrible piece thereof, it is not\nworthy to stand in diameter with heaven, whose happiness consists in\nthat part that is best able to comprehend it, that immortal essence,\nthat translated divinity and colony of God, the soul. Surely, though\nwe place hell under earth, the devil\u2019s walk and purlieu is about it.\nMen speak too popularly who place it in those flaming mountains, which\nto grosser apprehensions represent hell. The heart of man is the place\nthe devils dwell in; I feel sometimes a hell within myself; Lucifer\nkeeps his court in my breast; Legion is revived in me. There are as\nmany hells as Anaxagoras[68] conceited worlds. There was more than one\nhell in Magdalene, when there were seven devils; for every devil is an\nhell unto himself,[69] he holds enough of torture in his own _ubi_;\nand needs not the misery of circumference to afflict him: and thus,\na distracted conscience here is a shadow or introduction unto hell\nhereafter. Who can but pity the merciful intention of those hands that\ndo destroy themselves? The devil, were it in his power, would do the\nlike; which being impossible, his miseries are endless, and he suffers\nmost in that attribute wherein he is impassible, his immortality.\n\n_Sect._ 52.--I thank God, and with joy I mention it, I was never afraid\nof hell, nor ever grew pale at the description of that place. I have so\nfixed my contemplations on heaven, that I have almost forgot the idea\nof hell; and am afraid rather to lose the joys of the one, than endure\nthe misery of the other: to be deprived of them is a perfect hell, and\nneeds methinks no addition to complete our afflictions. That terrible\nterm hath never detained me from sin, nor do I owe any good action to\nthe name thereof. I fear God, yet am not afraid of him; his mercies\nmake me ashamed of my sins, before his judgments afraid thereof: these\nare the forced and secondary method of his wisdom, which he useth but\nas the last remedy, and upon provocation;--a course rather to deter\nthe wicked, than incite the virtuous to his worship. I can hardly\nthink there was ever any scared into heaven: they go the fairest way\nto heaven that would serve God without a hell: other mercenaries,\nthat crouch unto him in fear of hell, though they term themselves the\nservants, are indeed but the slaves, of the Almighty.\n\n_Sect._ 53.--And to be true, and speak my soul, when I survey the\noccurrences of my life, and call into account the finger of God, I can\nperceive nothing but an abyss and mass of mercies, either in general to\nmankind, or in particular to myself. And, whether out of the prejudice\nof my affection, or an inverting and partial conceit of his mercies, I\nknow not,--but those which others term crosses, afflictions, judgments,\nmisfortunes, to me, who inquire further into them than their visible\neffects, they both appear, and in event have ever proved, the secret\nand dissembled favours of his affection. It is a singular piece of\nwisdom to apprehend truly, and without passion, the works of God, and\nso well to distinguish his justice from his mercy as not to miscall\nthose noble attributes; yet it is likewise an honest piece of logick so\nto dispute and argue the proceedings of God as to distinguish even his\njudgments into mercies. For God is merciful unto all, because better\nto the worst than the best deserve; and to say he punisheth none in\nthis world, though it be a paradox, is no absurdity. To one that hath\ncommitted murder, if the judge should only ordain a fine, it were a\nmadness to call this a punishment, and to repine at the sentence,\nrather than admire the clemency of the judge. Thus, our offences being\nmortal, and deserving not only death but damnation, if the goodness of\nGod be content to traverse and pass them over with a loss, misfortune,\nor disease; what frenzy were it to term this a punishment, rather than\nan extremity of mercy, and to groan under the rod of his judgments\nrather than admire the sceptre of his mercies! Therefore to adore,\nhonour, and admire him, is a debt of gratitude due from the obligation\nof our nature, states, and conditions: and with these thoughts he that\nknows them best will not deny that I adore him. That I obtain heaven,\nand the bliss thereof, is accidental, and not the intended work of my\ndevotion; it being a felicity I can neither think to deserve nor scarce\nin modesty to expect. For these two ends of us all, either as rewards\nor punishments, are mercifully ordained and disproportionably disposed\nunto our actions; the one being so far beyond our deserts, the other so\ninfinitely below our demerits.\n\n_Sect._ 54.--There is no salvation to those that believe not in Christ;\nthat is, say some, since his nativity, and, as divinity affirmeth,\nbefore also; which makes me much apprehend the end of those honest\nworthies and philosophers which died before his incarnation. It is hard\nto place those souls in hell, whose worthy lives do teach us virtue on\nearth. Methinks, among those many subdivisions of hell, there might\nhave been one limbo left for these. What a strange vision will it be\nto see their poetical fictions converted into verities, and their\nimagined and fancied furies into real devils! How strange to them will\nsound the history of Adam, when they shall suffer for him they never\nheard of! When they who derive their genealogy from the gods, shall\nknow they are the unhappy issue of sinful man! It is an insolent part\nof reason, to controvert the works of God, or question the justice of\nhis proceedings. Could humility teach others, as it hath instructed me,\nto contemplate the infinite and incomprehensible distance betwixt the\nCreator and the creature; or did we seriously perpend that one simile\nof St Paul, \u201cshall the vessel say to the potter, why hast thou made me\nthus?\u201d it would prevent these arrogant disputes of reason: nor would\nwe argue the definitive sentence of God, either to heaven or hell. Men\nthat live according to the right rule and law of reason, live but in\ntheir own kind, as beasts do in theirs; who justly obey the prescript\nof their natures, and therefore cannot reasonably demand a reward of\ntheir actions, as only obeying the natural dictates of their reason.\nIt will, therefore, and must, at last appear, that all salvation is\nthrough Christ; which verity, I fear, these great examples of virtue\nmust confirm, and make it good how the perfectest actions of earth have\nno title or claim unto heaven.\n\n_Sect._ 55.--Nor truly do I think the lives of these, or of any other,\nwere ever correspondent, or in all points conformable, unto their\ndoctrines. It is evident that Aristotle transgressed the rule of his\nown ethicks;[70] the stoicks, that condemn passion, and command a man\nto laugh in Phalaris\u2019s[71] bull, could not endure without a groan a\nfit of the stone or colick. The scepticks, that affirmed they knew\nnothing,[72] even in that opinion confute themselves, and thought\nthey knew more than all the world beside. Diogenes I hold to be the\nmost vainglorious man of his time, and more ambitious in refusing all\nhonours, than Alexander in rejecting none. Vice and the devil put a\nfallacy upon our reasons; and, provoking us too hastily to run from\nit, entangle and profound us deeper in it. The duke of Venice, that\nweds himself unto the sea, by a ring of gold,[73] I will not accuse of\nprodigality, because it is a solemnity of good use and consequence in\nthe state: but the philosopher, that threw his money into the sea to\navoid avarice, was a notorious prodigal.[74] There is no road or ready\nway to virtue; it is not an easy point of art to disentangle ourselves\nfrom this riddle or web of sin. To perfect virtue, as to religion,\nthere is required a _panoplia_, or complete armour; that whilst we\nlie at close ward against one vice, we lie not open to the veney[75]\nof another. And indeed wiser discretions, that have the thread of\nreason to conduct them, offend without a pardon; whereas under heads\nmay stumble without dishonour. There go so many circumstances to\npiece up one good action, that it is a lesson to be good, and we are\nforced to be virtuous by the book. Again, the practice of men holds\nnot an equal pace, yea and often runs counter to their theory; we\nnaturally know what is good, but naturally pursue what is evil: the\nrhetorick wherewith I persuade another cannot persuade myself. There\nis a depraved appetite in us, that will with patience hear the learned\ninstructions of reason, but yet perform no further than agrees to\nits own irregular humour. In brief, we all are monsters; that is, a\ncomposition of man and beast: wherein we must endeavour to be as the\npoets fancy that wise man, Chiron; that is, to have the region of\nman above that of beast, and sense to sit but at the feet of reason.\nLastly, I do desire with God that all, but yet affirm with men that\nfew, shall know salvation,--that the bridge is narrow, the passage\nstrait unto life: yet those who do confine the church of God either to\nparticular nations, churches, or families, have made it far narrower\nthan our Saviour ever meant it.\n\n_Sect._ 56.--The vulgarity of those judgments that wrap the church of\nGod in Strabo\u2019s cloak,[76] and restrain it unto Europe, seem to me as\nbad geographers as Alexander, who thought he had conquered all the\nworld, when he had not subdued the half of any part thereof. For we\ncannot deny the church of God both in Asia and Africa, if we do not\nforget the peregrinations of the apostles, the deaths of the martyrs,\nthe sessions of many and (even in our reformed judgment) lawful\ncouncils, held in those parts in the minority and nonage of ours.\nNor must a few differences, more remarkable in the eyes of man than,\nperhaps, in the judgment of God, excommunicate from heaven one another;\nmuch less those Christians who are in a manner all martyrs, maintaining\ntheir faith in the noble way of persecution, and serving God in the\nfire, whereas we honour him in the sunshine.\n\n\u2019Tis true, we all hold there is a number of elect, and many to be\nsaved; yet, take our opinions together, and from the confusion thereof,\nthere will be no such thing as salvation, nor shall any one be saved:\nfor, first, the church of Rome condemneth us; we likewise them; the\nsub-reformists and sectaries sentence the doctrine of our church as\ndamnable; the atomist, or familist,[77] reprobates all these; and\nall these, them again. Thus, whilst the mercies of God do promise us\nheaven, our conceits and opinions exclude us from that place. There\nmust be therefore more than one St Peter; particular churches and\nsects usurp the gates of heaven, and turn the key against each other;\nand thus we go to heaven against each other\u2019s wills, conceits, and\nopinions, and, with as much uncharity as ignorance, do err, I fear, in\npoints not only of our own, but one another\u2019s salvation.\n\n_Sect._ 57.--I believe many are saved who to man seem reprobated,\nand many are reprobated who in the opinion and sentence of man stand\nelected. There will appear, at the last day, strange and unexpected\nexamples, both of his justice and his mercy; and, therefore, to define\neither is folly in man, and insolency even in the devils. These acute\nand subtile spirits, in all their sagacity, can hardly divine who shall\nbe saved; which if they could prognostick, their labour were at an\nend, nor need they compass the earth, seeking whom they may devour.\nThose who, upon a rigid application of the law, sentence Solomon unto\ndamnation,[78] condemn not only him, but themselves, and the whole\nworld; for by the letter and written word of God, we are without\nexception in the state of death: but there is a prerogative of God, and\nan arbitrary pleasure above the letter of his own law, by which alone\nwe can pretend unto salvation, and through which Solomon might be as\neasily saved as those who condemn him.\n\n_Sect._ 58.--The number of those who pretend unto salvation, and those\ninfinite swarms who think to pass through the eye of this needle, have\nmuch amazed me. That name and compellation of \u201clittle flock\u201d doth not\ncomfort, but deject, my devotion; especially when I reflect upon mine\nown unworthiness, wherein, according to my humble apprehensions, I am\nbelow them all. I believe there shall never be an anarchy in heaven;\nbut, as there are hierarchies amongst the angels, so shall there be\ndegrees of priority amongst the saints. Yet is it, I protest, beyond\nmy ambition to aspire unto the first ranks; my desires only are, and I\nshall be happy therein, to be but the last man, and bring up the rear\nin heaven.\n\n_Sect._ 59.--Again, I am confident, and fully persuaded, yet dare not\ntake my oath, of my salvation. I am, as it were, sure, and do believe\nwithout all doubt, that there is such a city as Constantinople; yet,\nfor me to take my oath thereon were a kind of perjury, because I hold\nno infallible warrant from my own sense to confirm me in the certainty\nthereof. And truly, though many pretend to an absolute certainty of\ntheir salvation, yet when an humble soul shall contemplate our own\nunworthiness, she shall meet with many doubts, and suddenly find how\nlittle we stand in need of the precept of St Paul, \u201cwork out your\nsalvation _with fear and trembling_.\u201d That which is the cause of my\nelection, I hold to be the cause of my salvation, which was the mercy\nand _beneplacit_ of God, before I was, or the foundation of the world.\n\u201cBefore Abraham was, I am,\u201d is the saying of Christ, yet is it true in\nsome sense if I say it of myself; for I was not only before myself but\nAdam, that is, in the idea of God, and the decree of that synod held\nfrom all eternity. And in this sense, I say, the world was before the\ncreation, and at an end before it had a beginning. And thus was I dead\nbefore I was alive; though my grave be England, my dying place was\nParadise; and Eve miscarried of me, before she conceived of Cain.\n\n_Sect._ 60.--Insolent zeals, that do decry good works and rely only\nupon faith, take not away merit: for, depending upon the efficacy\nof their faith, they enforce the condition of God, and in a more\nsophistical way do seem to challenge heaven. It was decreed by God that\nonly those that lapped in the water like dogs, should have the honour\nto destroy the Midianites; yet could none of those justly challenge, or\nimagine he deserved, that honour thereupon. I do not deny but that true\nfaith, and such as God requires, is not only a mark or token, but also\na means, of our salvation; but, where to find this, is as obscure to me\nas my last end. And if our Saviour could object, unto his own disciples\nand favourites, a faith that, to the quantity of a grain of mustard\nseed, is able to remove mountains; surely that which we boast of is not\nanything, or, at the most, but a remove from nothing.\n\nThis is the tenour of my belief; wherein, though there be many things\nsingular, and to the humour of my irregular self, yet, if they square\nnot with maturer judgments, I disclaim them, and do no further favour\nthem than the learned and best judgments shall authorize them.\n\n\n\n\nPART THE SECOND.\n\n\n_Sect._ 1.--Now, for that other virtue of charity, without which\nfaith is a mere notion and of no existence, I have ever endeavoured\nto nourish the merciful disposition and humane inclination I borrowed\nfrom my parents, and regulate it to the written and prescribed laws of\ncharity. And, if I hold the true anatomy of myself, I am delineated and\nnaturally framed to such a piece of virtue,--for I am of a constitution\nso general that it consorts and sympathizeth with all things; I have\nno antipathy, or rather idiosyncrasy, in diet, humour, air, anything.\nI wonder not at the French for their dishes of frogs, snails, and\ntoadstools, nor at the Jews for locusts and grasshoppers; but, being\namongst them, make them my common viands; and I find they agree with\nmy stomach as well as theirs. I could digest a salad gathered in a\nchurch-yard as well as in a garden. I cannot start at the presence of\na serpent, scorpion, lizard, or salamander; at the sight of a toad\nor viper, I find in me no desire to take up a stone to destroy them.\nI feel not in myself those common antipathies that I can discover in\nothers: those national repugnances do not touch me, nor do I behold\nwith prejudice the French, Italian, Spaniard, or Dutch; but, where I\nfind their actions in balance with my countrymen\u2019s, I honour, love, and\nembrace them, in the same degree. I was born in the eighth climate, but\nseem to be framed and constellated unto all. I am no plant that will\nnot prosper out of a garden. All places, all airs, make unto me one\ncountry; I am in England everywhere, and under any meridian. I have\nbeen shipwrecked, yet am not enemy with the sea or winds; I can study,\nplay, or sleep, in a tempest. In brief I am averse from nothing: my\nconscience would give me the lie if I should say I absolutely detest\nor hate any essence, but the devil; or so at least abhor anything, but\nthat we might come to composition. If there be any among those common\nobjects of hatred I do contemn and laugh at, it is that great enemy\nof reason, virtue, and religion, the multitude; that numerous piece\nof monstrosity, which, taken asunder, seem men, and the reasonable\ncreatures of God, but, confused together, make but one great beast, and\na monstrosity more prodigious than Hydra. It is no breach of charity\nto call these fools; it is the style all holy writers have afforded\nthem, set down by Solomon in canonical Scripture, and a point of our\nfaith to believe so. Neither in the name of multitude do I only include\nthe base and minor sort of people: there is a rabble even amongst the\ngentry; a sort of plebeian heads, whose fancy moves with the same wheel\nas these; men in the same level with mechanicks, though their fortunes\ndo somewhat gild their infirmities, and their purses compound for their\nfollies. But, as in casting account three or four men together come\nshort in account of one man placed by himself below them, so neither\nare a troop of these ignorant Doradoes[79] of that true esteem and\nvalue as many a forlorn person, whose condition doth place him below\ntheir feet. Let us speak like politicians; there is a nobility without\nheraldry, a natural dignity, whereby one man is ranked with another,\nanother filed before him, according to the quality of his desert, and\npre-eminence of his good parts. Though the corruption of these times,\nand the bias of present practice, wheel another way, thus it was in\nthe first and primitive commonwealths, and is yet in the integrity and\ncradle of well ordered polities: till corruption getteth ground;--ruder\ndesires labouring after that which wiser considerations contemn;--every\none having a liberty to amass and heap up riches, and they a licence or\nfaculty to do or purchase anything.\n\n_Sect._ 2.--This general and indifferent temper of mine doth more\nnearly dispose me to this noble virtue. It is a happiness to be born\nand framed unto virtue, and to grow up from the seeds of nature,\nrather than the inoculations and forced grafts of education: yet,\nif we are directed only by our particular natures, and regulate our\ninclinations by no higher rule than that of our reasons, we are but\nmoralists; divinity will still call us heathens. Therefore this great\nwork of charity must have other motives, ends, and impulsions. I\ngive no alms to satisfy the hunger of my brother, but to fulfil and\naccomplish the will and command of my God; I draw not my purse for his\nsake that demands it, but his that enjoined it; I relieve no man upon\nthe rhetorick of his miseries, nor to content mine own commiserating\ndisposition; for this is still but moral charity, and an act that\noweth more to passion than reason. He that relieves another upon the\nbare suggestion and bowels of pity doth not this so much for his sake\nas for his own; and so, by relieving them, we relieve ourselves also.\nIt is as erroneous a conceit to redress other men\u2019s misfortunes upon\nthe common considerations of merciful natures, that it may be one day\nour own case; for this is a sinister and politick kind of charity,\nwhereby we seem to bespeak the pities of men in the like occasions.\nAnd truly I have observed that those professed eleemosynaries, though\nin a crowd or multitude, do yet direct and place their petitions on a\nfew and selected persons; there is surely a physiognomy, which those\nexperienced and master mendicants observe, whereby they instantly\ndiscover a merciful aspect, and will single out a face, wherein they\nspy the signature and marks of mercy. For there are mystically in\nour faces certain characters which carry in them the motto of our\nsouls, wherein he that can read A, B, C, may read our natures. I hold,\nmoreover, that there is a phytognomy, or physiognomy, not only of men,\nbut of plants and vegetables; and is every one of them some outward\nfigures which hang as signs or bushes of their inward forms. The finger\nof God hath left an inscription upon all his works, not graphical, or\ncomposed of letters, but of their several forms, constitutions, parts,\nand operations, which, aptly joined together, do make one word that\ndoth express their natures. By these letters God calls the stars by\ntheir names; and by this alphabet Adam assigned to every creature a\nname peculiar to its nature. Now, there are, besides these characters\nin our faces, certain mystical figures in our hands, which I dare not\ncall mere dashes, strokes _\u00e0 la volee_ or at random, because delineated\nby a pencil that never works in vain; and hereof I take more particular\nnotice, because I carry that in mine own hand which I could never read\nof nor discover in another. Aristotle, I confess, in his acute and\nsingular book of physiognomy, hath made no mention of chiromancy:[80]\nyet I believe the Egyptians, who were nearer addicted to those abstruse\nand mystical sciences, had a knowledge therein: to which those vagabond\nand counterfeit Egyptians did after[81] pretend, and perhaps retained\na few corrupted principles, which sometimes might verify their\nprognosticks.\n\nIt is the common wonder of all men, how, among so many millions of\nfaces, there should be none alike: now, contrary, I wonder as much\nhow there should be any. He that shall consider how many thousand\nseveral words have been carelessly and without study composed out of\ntwenty-four letters; withal, how many hundred lines there are to be\ndrawn in the fabrick of one man; shall easily find that this variety\nis necessary: and it will be very hard that they shall so concur as to\nmake one portrait like another. Let a painter carelessly limn out a\nmillion of faces, and you shall find them all different; yes, let him\nhave his copy before him, yet, after all his art, there will remain\na sensible distinction: for the pattern or example of everything is\nthe perfectest in that kind, whereof we still come short, though we\ntranscend or go beyond it; because herein it is wide, and agrees not\nin all points unto its copy. Nor doth the similitude of creatures\ndisparage the variety of nature, nor any way confound the works of God.\nFor even in things alike there is diversity; and those that do seem to\naccord do manifestly disagree. And thus is man like God; for, in the\nsame things that we resemble him we are utterly different from him.\nThere was never anything so like another as in all points to concur;\nthere will ever some reserved difference slip in, to prevent the\nidentity; without which two several things would not be alike, but the\nsame, which is impossible.\n\n_Sect._ 3.--But, to return from philosophy to charity, I hold not so\nnarrow a conceit of this virtue as to conceive that to give alms is\nonly to be charitable, or think a piece of liberality can comprehend\nthe total of charity. Divinity hath wisely divided the act thereof\ninto many branches, and hath taught us, in this narrow way, many paths\nunto goodness; as many ways as we may do good, so many ways we may be\ncharitable. There are infirmities not only of body, but of soul and\nfortunes, which do require the merciful hand of our abilities. I cannot\ncontemn a man for ignorance, but behold him with as much pity as I do\nLazarus. It is no greater charity to clothe his body than apparel the\nnakedness of his soul. It is an honourable object to see the reasons\nof other men wear our liveries, and their borrowed understandings do\nhomage to the bounty of ours. It is the cheapest way of beneficence,\nand, like the natural charity of the sun, illuminates another without\nobscuring itself. To be reserved and caitiff[82] in this part of\ngoodness is the sordidest piece of covetousness, and more contemptible\nthan the pecuniary avarice. To this (as calling myself a scholar) I\nam obliged by the duty of my condition. I make not therefore my head\na grave, but a treasure of knowledge. I intend no monopoly, but a\ncommunity in learning. I study not for my own sake only, but for theirs\nthat study not for themselves. I envy no man that knows more than\nmyself, but pity them that know less. I instruct no man as an exercise\nof my knowledge, or with an intent rather to nourish and keep it alive\nin mine own head than beget and propagate it in his. And, in the midst\nof all my endeavours, there is but one thought that dejects me, that\nmy acquired parts must perish with myself, nor can be legacied among\nmy honoured friends. I cannot fall out or contemn a man for an error,\nor conceive why a difference in opinion should divide an affection;\nfor controversies, disputes, and argumentations, both in philosophy\nand in divinity, if they meet with discreet and peaceable natures, do\nnot infringe the laws of charity. In all disputes, so much as there\nis of passion, so much there is of nothing to the purpose; for then\nreason, like a bad hound, spends upon a false scent, and forsakes the\nquestion first started. And this is one reason why controversies are\nnever determined; for, though they be amply proposed, they are scarce\nat all handled; they do so swell with unnecessary digressions; and the\nparenthesis on the party is often as large as the main discourse upon\nthe subject. The foundations of religion are already established, and\nthe principles of salvation subscribed unto by all. There remain not\nmany controversies worthy a passion, and yet never any dispute without,\nnot only in divinity but inferior arts. What a \u03b2\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03c5\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c7\u03af\u03b1 and\nhot skirmish is betwixt S. and T. in Lucian![83] How do grammarians\nhack and slash for the genitive case in Jupiter![84] How do they\nbreak their own pates, to salve that of Priscian![85] \u201c_Si foret in\nterris, rideret Democritus._\u201d Yes, even amongst wiser militants, how\nmany wounds have been given and credits slain, for the poor victory\nof an opinion, or beggarly conquest of a distinction! Scholars are\nmen of peace, they bear no arms, but their tongues are sharper than\nActius\u2019s razor;[86] their pens carry farther, and give a louder report\nthan thunder. I had rather stand the shock of a basilisko[87] than\nin the fury of a merciless pen. It is not mere zeal to learning, or\ndevotion to the muses, that wiser princes patron the arts, and carry\nan indulgent aspect unto scholars; but a desire to have their names\neternized by the memory of their writings, and a fear of the revengeful\npen of succeeding ages: for these are the men that, when they have\nplayed their parts, and had their _exits_, must step out and give the\nmoral of their scenes, and deliver unto posterity an inventory of their\nvirtues and vices. And surely there goes a great deal of conscience to\nthe compiling of an history: there is no reproach to the scandal of a\nstory; it is such an authentick kind of falsehood, that with authority\nbelies our good names to all nations and posterity.\n\n_Sect._ 4.--There is another offence unto charity, which no author hath\never written of, and few take notice of, and that\u2019s the reproach, not\nof whole professions, mysteries, and conditions, but of whole nations,\nwherein by opprobrious epithets we miscall each other, and, by an\nuncharitable logick, from a disposition in a few, conclude a habit in\nall.\n\n    Le mutin Anglois, et le bravache Escossois\n    Le bougre Italien, et le fol Francois;\n    Le poltron Romain, le larron de Gascogne,\n    L\u2019Espagnol superbe, et l\u2019Alleman yvrogne.\n\nSt Paul, that calls the Cretians liars, doth it but indirectly, and\nupon quotation of their own poet.[88] It is as bloody a thought in one\nway as Nero\u2019s was in another.[89] For by a word we wound a thousand,\nand at one blow assassin the honour of a nation. It is as complete a\npiece of madness to miscall and rave against the times; or think to\nrecall men to reason by a fit of passion. Democritus, that thought to\nlaugh the times into goodness, seems to me as deeply hypochondriack\nas Heraclitus, that bewailed them. It moves not my spleen to behold\nthe multitude in their proper humours; that is, in their fits of\nfolly and madness, as well understanding that wisdom is not profaned\nunto the world; and it is the privilege of a few to be virtuous. They\nthat endeavour to abolish vice destroy also virtue; for contraries,\nthough they destroy one another, are yet the life of one another. Thus\nvirtue (abolish vice) is an idea. Again, the community of sin doth\nnot disparage goodness; for, when vice gains upon the major part,\nvirtue, in whom it remains, becomes more excellent, and, being lost\nin some, multiplies its goodness in others, which remain untouched,\nand persist entire in the general inundation. I can therefore behold\nvice without a satire, content only with an admonition, or instructive\nreprehension; for noble natures, and such as are capable of goodness,\nare railed into vice, that might as easily be admonished into virtue;\nand we should be all so far the orators of goodness as to protect her\nfrom the power of vice, and maintain the cause of injured truth. No man\ncan justly censure or condemn another; because, indeed, no man truly\nknows another. This I perceive in myself; for I am in the dark to all\nthe world, and my nearest friends behold me but in a cloud. Those that\nknow me but superficially think less of me than I do of myself; those\nof my near acquaintance think more; God who truly knows me, knows\nthat I am nothing: for he only beholds me, and all the world, who\nlooks not on us through a derived ray, or a trajection of a sensible\nspecies, but beholds the substance without the help of accidents, and\nthe forms of things, as we their operations. Further, no man can judge\nanother, because no man knows himself; for we censure others but as\nthey disagree from that humour which we fancy laudable in ourselves,\nand commend others but for that wherein they seem to quadrate and\nconsent with us. So that in conclusion, all is but that we all condemn,\nself-love. \u2019Tis the general complaint of these times, and perhaps of\nthose past, that charity grows cold; which I perceive most verified\nin those which do most manifest the fires and flames of zeal; for it\nis a virtue that best agrees with coldest natures, and such as are\ncomplexioned for humility. But how shall we expect charity towards\nothers, when we are uncharitable to ourselves? \u201cCharity begins at\nhome,\u201d is the voice of the world; yet is every man his greatest enemy,\nand as it were his own executioner. \u201c_Non occides_,\u201d is the commandment\nof God, yet scarce observed by any man; for I perceive every man is his\nown Atropos, and lends a hand to cut the thread of his own days. Cain\nwas not therefore the first murderer, but Adam, who brought in death;\nwhereof he beheld the practice and example in his own son Abel; and\nsaw that verified in the experience of another which faith could not\npersuade him in the theory of himself.\n\n_Sect._ 5.--There is, I think, no man that apprehends his own miseries\nless than myself; and no man that so nearly apprehends another\u2019s. I\ncould lose an arm without a tear, and with few groans, methinks, be\nquartered into pieces; yet can I weep most seriously at a play, and\nreceive with a true passion the counterfeit griefs of those known and\nprofessed impostures. It is a barbarous part of inhumanity to add unto\nany afflicted parties misery, or endeavour to multiply in any man a\npassion whose single nature is already above his patience. This was the\ngreatest affliction of Job, and those oblique expostulations of his\nfriends a deeper injury than the down-right blows of the devil. It is\nnot the tears of our own eyes only, but of our friends also, that do\nexhaust the current of our sorrows; which, falling into many streams,\nruns more peaceably, and is contented with a narrower channel. It is\nan act within the power of charity, to translate a passion out of one\nbreast into another, and to divide a sorrow almost out of itself;\nfor an affliction, like a dimension, may be so divided as, if not\nindivisible, at least to become insensible. Now with my friend I desire\nnot to share or participate, but to engross, his sorrows; that, by\nmaking them mine own, I may more easily discuss them: for in mine own\nreason, and within myself, I can command that which I cannot entreat\nwithout myself, and within the circle of another. I have often thought\nthose noble pairs and examples of friendship, not so truly histories\nof what had been, as fictions of what should be; but I now perceive\nnothing in them but possibilities, nor anything in the heroick examples\nof Damon and Pythias, Achilles and Patroclus, which, methinks, upon\nsome grounds, I could not perform within the narrow compass of myself.\nThat a man should lay down his life for his friend seems strange to\nvulgar affections and such as confine themselves within that worldly\nprinciple, \u201cCharity begins at home.\u201d For mine own part, I could never\nremember the relations that I held unto myself, nor the respect that\nI owe unto my own nature, in the cause of God, my country, and my\nfriends. Next to these three, I do embrace myself. I confess I do not\nobserve that order that the schools ordain our affections,--to love\nour parents, wives, children, and then our friends; for, excepting\nthe injunctions of religion, I do not find in myself such a necessary\nand indissoluble sympathy to all those of my blood. I hope I do not\nbreak the fifth commandment, if I conceive I may love my friend before\nthe nearest of my blood, even those to whom I owe the principles of\nlife. I never yet cast a true affection on a woman; but I have loved\nmy friend, as I do virtue, my soul, my God. From hence, methinks, I do\nconceive how God loves man; what happiness there is in the love of God.\nOmitting all other, there are three most mystical unions; two natures\nin one person; three persons in one nature; one soul in two bodies. For\nthough, indeed, they be really divided, yet are they so united, as they\nseem but one, and make rather a duality than two distinct souls.\n\n_Sect._ 6.--There are wonders in true affection. It is a body of\nenigmas, mysteries, and riddles; wherein two so become one as they\nboth become two: I love my friend before myself, and yet, methinks, I\ndo not love him enough. Some few months hence, my multiplied affection\nwill make me believe I have not loved him at all. When I am from him,\nI am dead till I be with him. United souls are not satisfied with\nembraces, but desire to be truly each other; which being impossible,\nthese desires are infinite, and must proceed without a possibility\nof satisfaction. Another misery there is in affection; that whom we\ntruly love like our own selves, we forget their looks, nor can our\nmemory retain the idea of their faces: and it is no wonder, for they\nare ourselves, and our affection makes their looks our own. This\nnoble affection falls not on vulgar and common constitutions; but on\nsuch as are marked for virtue. He that can love his friend with this\nnoble ardour will in a competent degree effect all. Now, if we can\nbring our affections to look beyond the body, and cast an eye upon\nthe soul, we have found out the true object, not only of friendship,\nbut charity: and the greatest happiness that we can bequeath the soul\nis that wherein we all do place our last felicity, salvation; which,\nthough it be not in our power to bestow, it is in our charity and pious\ninvocations to desire, if not procure and further. I cannot contentedly\nframe a prayer for myself in particular, without a catalogue for my\nfriends; nor request a happiness wherein my sociable disposition doth\nnot desire the fellowship of my neighbour. I never hear the toll\nof a passing bell, though in my mirth, without my prayers and best\nwishes for the departing spirit. I cannot go to cure the body of my\npatient, but I forget my profession, and call unto God for his soul.\nI cannot see one say his prayers, but, instead of imitating him, I\nfall into supplication for him, who perhaps is no more to me than a\ncommon nature: and if God hath vouchsafed an ear to my supplications,\nthere are surely many happy that never saw me, and enjoy the blessing\nof mine unknown devotions. To pray for enemies, that is, for their\nsalvation, is no harsh precept, but the practice of our daily and\nordinary devotions. I cannot believe the story of the Italian;[90] our\nbad wishes and uncharitable desires proceed no further than this life;\nit is the devil, and the uncharitable votes of hell, that desire our\nmisery in the world to come.\n\n_Sect._ 7.--\u201cTo do no injury nor take none\u201d was a principle which, to\nmy former years and impatient affections, seemed to contain enough of\nmorality, but my more settled years, and Christian constitution, have\nfallen upon severer resolutions. I can hold there is no such things\nas injury; that if there be, there is no such injury as revenge, and\nno such revenge as the contempt of an injury: that to hate another\nis to malign himself; that the truest way to love another is to\ndespise ourselves. I were unjust unto mine own conscience if I should\nsay I am at variance with anything like myself. I find there are\nmany pieces in this one fabrick of man; this frame is raised upon\na mass of antipathies: I am one methinks but as the world, wherein\nnotwithstanding there are a swarm of distinct essences, and in them\nanother world of contrarieties; we carry private and domestick enemies\nwithin, public and more hostile adversaries without. The devil, that\ndid but buffet St Paul, plays methinks at sharp[91] with me. Let me\nbe nothing, if within the compass of myself, I do not find the battle\nof Lepanto,[92] passion against reason, reason against faith, faith\nagainst the devil, and my conscience against all. There is another\nman within me that\u2019s angry with me, rebukes, commands, and dastards\nme. I have no conscience of marble, to resist the hammer of more\nheavy offences: nor yet so soft and waxen, as to take the impression\nof each single peccadillo or scape of infirmity. I am of a strange\nbelief, that it is as easy to be forgiven some sins as to commit\nsome others. For my original sin, I hold it to be washed away in my\nbaptism; for my actual transgressions, I compute and reckon with God\nbut from my last repentance, sacrament, or general absolution; and\ntherefore am not terrified with the sins or madness of my youth. I\nthank the goodness of God, I have no sins that want a name. I am not\nsingular in offences; my transgressions are epidemical, and from the\ncommon breath of our corruption. For there are certain tempers of body\nwhich, matched with a humorous depravity of mind, do hatch and produce\nvitiosities, whose newness and monstrosity of nature admits no name;\nthis was the temper of that lecher that carnaled with a statua, and the\nconstitution of Nero in his spintrian recreations. For the heavens are\nnot only fruitful in new and unheard-of stars, the earth in plants and\nanimals, but men\u2019s minds also in villany and vices. Now the dulness\nof my reason, and the vulgarity of my disposition, never prompted my\ninvention nor solicited my affection unto any of these;--yet even\nthose common and quotidian infirmities that so necessarily attend me,\nand do seem to be my very nature, have so dejected me, so broken the\nestimation that I should have otherwise of myself, that I repute myself\nthe most abject piece of mortality. Divines prescribe a fit of sorrow\nto repentance: there goes indignation, anger, sorrow, hatred, into\nmine, passions of a contrary nature, which neither seem to suit with\nthis action, nor my proper constitution. It is no breach of charity to\nourselves to be at variance with our vices, nor to abhor that part of\nus, which is an enemy to the ground of charity, our God; wherein we\ndo but imitate our great selves, the world, whose divided antipathies\nand contrary faces do yet carry a charitable regard unto the whole, by\ntheir particular discords preserving the common harmony, and keeping in\nfetters those powers, whose rebellions, once masters, might be the ruin\nof all.\n\n_Sect._ 8.--I thank God, amongst those millions of vices I do inherit\nand hold from Adam, I have escaped one, and that a mortal enemy to\ncharity,--the first and father sin, not only of man, but of the\ndevil,--pride; a vice whose name is comprehended in a monosyllable,\nbut in its nature not circumscribed with a world, I have escaped it\nin a condition that can hardly avoid it. Those petty acquisitions and\nreputed perfections, that advance and elevate the conceits of other\nmen, add no feathers unto mine. I have seen a grammarian tower and\nplume himself over a single line in Horace, and show more pride, in\nthe construction of one ode, than the author in the composure of the\nwhole book. For my own part, besides the jargon and _patois_ of several\nprovinces, I understand no less than six languages; yet I protest\nI have no higher conceit of myself than had our fathers before the\nconfusion of Babel, when there was but one language in the world, and\nnone to boast himself either linguist or critick. I have not only seen\nseveral countries, beheld the nature of their climes, the chorography\nof their provinces, topography of their cities, but understood their\nseveral laws, customs, and policies; yet cannot all this persuade the\ndulness of my spirit unto such an opinion of myself as I behold in\nnimbler and conceited heads, that never looked a degree beyond their\nnests. I know the names and somewhat more of all the constellations in\nmy horizon; yet I have seen a prating mariner, that could only name\nthe pointers and the north-star, out-talk me, and conceit himself\na whole sphere above me. I know most of the plants of my country,\nand of those about me, yet methinks I do not know so many as when I\ndid but know a hundred, and had scarcely ever simpled further than\nCheapside. For, indeed, heads of capacity, and such as are not full\nwith a handful or easy measure of knowledge, think they know nothing\ntill they know all; which being impossible, they fall upon the opinion\nof Socrates, and only know they know not anything. I cannot think that\nHomer pined away upon the riddle of the fishermen, or that Aristotle,\nwho understood the uncertainty of knowledge, and confessed so often\nthe reason of man too weak for the works of nature, did ever drown\nhimself upon the flux and reflux of Euripus.[93] We do but learn,\nto-day, what our better advanced judgments will unteach to-morrow; and\nAristotle doth but instruct us, as Plato did him, that is, to confute\nhimself. I have run through all sorts, yet find no rest in any: though\nour first studies and junior endeavours may style us Peripateticks,\nStoicks, or Academicks, yet I perceive the wisest heads prove, at\nlast, almost all Scepticks,[94] and stand like Janus in the field of\nknowledge. I have therefore one common and authentick philosophy I\nlearned in the schools, whereby I discourse and satisfy the reason of\nother men; another more reserved, and drawn from experience, whereby I\ncontent mine own. Solomon, that complained of ignorance in the height\nof knowledge, hath not only humbled my conceits, but discouraged my\nendeavours. There is yet another conceit that hath sometimes made me\nshut my books, which tells me it is a vanity to waste our days in the\nblind pursuit of knowledge: it is but attending a little longer, and\nwe shall enjoy that, by instinct and infusion, which we endeavour at\nhere by labour and inquisition. It is better to sit down in a modest\nignorance, and rest contented with the natural blessing of our own\nreasons, than by the uncertain knowledge of this life with sweat and\nvexation, which death gives every fool gratis, and is an accessary of\nour glorification.\n\n_Sect._ 9.--I was never yet once, and commend their resolutions who\nnever marry twice. Not that I disallow of second marriage; as neither\nin all cases of polygamy, which considering some times, and the unequal\nnumber of both sexes, may be also necessary. The whole world was made\nfor man, but the twelfth part of man for woman. Man is the whole world,\nand the breath of God; woman the rib and crooked piece of man. I could\nbe content that we might procreate like trees, without conjunction, or\nthat there were any way to perpetuate the world without this trivial\nand vulgar way of coition: it is the foolishest act a wise man commits\nin all his life, nor is there anything that will more deject his cooled\nimagination, when he shall consider what an odd and unworthy piece\nof folly he hath committed. I speak not in prejudice, nor am averse\nfrom that sweet sex, but naturally amorous of all that is beautiful.\nI can look a whole day with delight upon a handsome picture, though\nit be but of an horse. It is my temper, and I like it the better,\nto affect all harmony; and sure there is musick, even in the beauty\nand the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound\nof an instrument. For there is a musick wherever there is a harmony,\norder, or proportion; and thus far we may maintain \u201cthe musick of the\nspheres:\u201d for those well-ordered motions, and regular paces, though\nthey give no sound unto the ear, yet to the understanding they strike\na note most full of harmony. Whatsoever is harmonically composed\ndelights in harmony, which makes me much distrust the symmetry of those\nheads which declaim against all church-musick. For myself, not only\nfrom my obedience but my particular genius I do embrace it: for even\nthat vulgar and tavern-musick which makes one man merry, another mad,\nstrikes in me a deep fit of devotion, and a profound contemplation of\nthe first composer. There is something in it of divinity more than\nthe ear discovers: it is an hieroglyphical and shadowed lesson of the\nwhole world, and creatures of God,--such a melody to the ear, as the\nwhole world, well understood, would afford the understanding. In brief,\nit is a sensible fit of that harmony which intellectually sounds in\nthe ears of God. I will not say, with Plato, the soul is an harmony,\nbut harmonical, and hath its nearest sympathy unto musick: thus some,\nwhose temper of body agrees, and humours the constitution of their\nsouls, are born poets, though indeed all are naturally inclined unto\nrhythm. This made Tacitus, in the very first line of his story, fall\nupon a verse;[P] and Cicero, the worst of poets, but declaiming for a\npoet, falls in the very first sentence upon a perfect hexameter.[Q] I\nfeel not in me those sordid and unchristian desires of my profession;\nI do not secretly implore and wish for plagues, rejoice at famines,\nrevolve ephemerides and almanacks in expectation of malignant aspects,\nfatal conjunctions, and eclipses. I rejoice not at unwholesome springs\nnor unseasonable winters: my prayer goes with the husbandman\u2019s; I\ndesire everything in its proper season, that neither men nor the times\nbe out of temper. Let me be sick myself, if sometimes the malady of\nmy patient be not a disease unto me. I desire rather to cure his\ninfirmities than my own necessities. Where I do him no good, methinks\nit is scarce honest gain, though I confess \u2019tis but the worthy salary\nof our well intended endeavours. I am not only ashamed but heartily\nsorry, that, besides death, there are diseases incurable; yet not for\nmy own sake or that they be beyond my art, but for the general cause\nand sake of humanity, whose common cause I apprehend as mine own.\nAnd, to speak more generally, those three noble professions which all\ncivil commonwealths do honour, are raised upon the fall of Adam, and\nare not any way exempt from their infirmities. There are not only\ndiseases incurable in physick, but cases indissolvable in law, vices\nincorrigible in divinity. If general councils may err, I do not see\nwhy particular courts should be infallible: their perfectest rules are\nraised upon the erroneous reasons of man, and the laws of one do but\ncondemn the rules of another; as Aristotle ofttimes the opinions of\nhis predecessors, because, though agreeable to reason, yet were not\nconsonant to his own rules and the logick of his proper principles.\nAgain,--to speak nothing of the sin against the Holy Ghost, whose cure\nnot only, but whose nature is unknown,--I can cure the gout or stone\nin some, sooner than divinity, pride, or avarice in others. I can cure\nvices by physick when they remain incurable by divinity, and they shall\nobey my pills when they contemn their precepts. I boast nothing, but\nplainly say, we all labour against our own cure; for death is the cure\nof all diseases. There is no _catholicon_ or universal remedy I know,\nbut this, which though nauseous to queasy stomachs, yet to prepared\nappetites is nectar, and a pleasant potion of immortality.\n\n[P] \u201cUrbem Romam in principio reges habuere.\u201d\n\n[Q] \u201cIn qua me non inficior mediocriter esse.\u201d--_Pro Archia Poeta_.\n\n_Sect._ 10.--For my conversation, it is, like the sun\u2019s, with all men,\nand with a friendly aspect to good and bad. Methinks there is no man\nbad; and the worst best, that is, while they are kept within the circle\nof those qualities wherein they are good. There is no man\u2019s mind of\nso discordant and jarring a temper, to which a tuneable disposition\nmay not strike a harmony. _Magn\u00e6 virtutes, nec minora vitia;_ it is\nthe posy[95] of the best natures, and may be inverted on the worst.\nThere are, in the most depraved and venomous dispositions, certain\npieces that remain untouched, which by an _antiperistasis_[96] become\nmore excellent, or by the excellency of their antipathies are able\nto preserve themselves from the contagion of their enemy vices, and\npersist entire beyond the general corruption. For it is also thus in\nnature: the greatest balsams do lie enveloped in the bodies of the most\npowerful corrosives. I say moreover, and I ground upon experience,\nthat poisons contain within themselves their own antidote, and that\nwhich preserves them from the venom of themselves; without which they\nwere not deleterious to others only, but to themselves also. But it is\nthe corruption that I fear within me; not the contagion of commerce\nwithout me. \u2019Tis that unruly regiment within me, that will destroy me;\n\u2019tis that I do infect myself; the man without a navel[97] yet lives in\nme. I feel that original canker corrode and devour me: and therefore,\n\u201c_Defenda me, Dios, de me!_\u201d \u201cLord, deliver me from myself!\u201d is a\npart of my litany, and the first voice of my retired imaginations.\nThere is no man alone, because every man is a microcosm, and carries\nthe whole world about him. \u201c_Nunquam minus solus quam cum solus,_\u201d[R]\nthough it be the apothegm of a wise man is yet true in the mouth of a\nfool: for indeed, though in a wilderness, a man is never alone; not\nonly because he is with himself, and his own thoughts, but because he\nis with the devil, who ever consorts with our solitude, and is that\nunruly rebel that musters up those disordered motions which accompany\nour sequestered imaginations. And to speak more narrowly, there is no\nsuch thing as solitude, nor anything that can be said to be alone, and\nby itself, but God;--who is his own circle, and can subsist by himself;\nall others, besides their dissimilary and heterogeneous parts, which in\na manner multiply their natures, cannot subsist without the concourse\nof God, and the society of that hand which doth uphold their natures.\nIn brief, there can be nothing truly alone, and by its self, which is\nnot truly one, and such is only God: all others do transcend an unity,\nand so by consequence are many.\n\n[R] \u201cCic. de Off.,\u201d 1. iii.\n\n_Sect._ 11.--Now for my life, it is a miracle of thirty years, which\nto relate, were not a history, but a piece of poetry, and would sound\nto common ears like a fable. For the world, I count it not an inn, but\nan hospital; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I\nregard is myself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine\neye on: for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round\nsometimes for my recreation. Men that look upon my outside, perusing\nonly my condition and fortunes, do err in my altitude; for I am above\nAtlas\u2019s shoulders.[98] The earth is a point not only in respect of\nthe heavens above us, but of the heavenly and celestial part within\nus. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me limits not my mind. That\nsurface that tells the heavens it hath an end cannot persuade me I\nhave any. I take my circle to be above three hundred and sixty. Though\nthe number of the ark do measure my body, it comprehendeth not my\nmind. Whilst I study to find how I am a microcosm, or little world, I\nfind myself something more than the great. There is surely a piece of\ndivinity in us; something that was before the elements, and owes no\nhomage unto the sun. Nature tells me, I am the image of God, as well as\nScripture. He that understands not thus much hath not his introduction\nor first lesson, and is yet to begin the alphabet of man. Let me not\ninjure the felicity of others, if I say I am as happy as any. \u201c_Ruat\nc\u0153lum, fiat voluntas tua,_\u201d salveth all; so that, whatsoever happens,\nit is but what our daily prayers desire. In brief, I am content; and\nwhat should providence add more? Surely this is it we call happiness,\nand this do I enjoy; with this I am happy in a dream, and as content\nto enjoy a happiness in a fancy, as others in a more apparent truth\nand reality. There is surely a nearer apprehension of anything that\ndelights us, in our dreams, than in our waked senses. Without this I\nwere unhappy; for my awaked judgment discontents me, ever whispering\nunto me that I am from my friend, but my friendly dreams in the night\nrequite me, and make me think I am within his arms. I thank God for my\nhappy dreams, as I do for my good rest; for there is a satisfaction in\nthem unto reasonable desires, and such as can be content with a fit\nof happiness. And surely it is not a melancholy conceit to think we\nare all asleep in this world, and that the conceits of this life are\nas mere dreams, to those of the next, as the phantasms of the night,\nto the conceits of the day. There is an equal delusion in both; and\nthe one doth but seem to be the emblem or picture of the other. We are\nsomewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps; and the slumber of the body\nseems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense,\nbut the liberty of reason; and our waking conceptions do not match the\nfancies of our sleeps. At my nativity, my ascendant was the watery sign\nof _Scorpio_. I was born in the planetary hour of _Saturn_, and I think\nI have a piece of that leaden planet in me. I am no way facetious,\nnor disposed for the mirth and galliardise[99] of company; yet in one\ndream I can compose a whole comedy, behold the action, apprehend the\njests, and laugh myself awake at the conceits thereof. Were my memory\nas faithful as my reason is then fruitful, I would never study but\nin my dreams, and this time also would I choose for my devotions:\nbut our grosser memories have then so little hold of our abstracted\nunderstandings, that they forget the story, and can only relate to our\nawaked souls a confused and broken tale of that which hath passed.\nAristotle, who hath written a singular tract of sleep, hath not,\nmethinks, thoroughly defined it; nor yet Galen, though he seem to have\ncorrected it; for those _noctambulos_ and night-walkers, though in\ntheir sleep, do yet enjoy the action of their senses. We must therefore\nsay that there is something in us that is not in the jurisdiction\nof Morpheus; and that those abstracted and ecstatick souls do walk\nabout in their own corpses, as spirits with the bodies they assume,\nwherein they seem to hear, see, and feel, though indeed the organs are\ndestitute of sense, and their natures of those faculties that should\ninform them. Thus it is observed, that men sometimes, upon the hour of\ntheir departure, do speak and reason above themselves. For then the\nsoul beginning to be freed from the ligaments of the body, begins to\nreason like herself, and to discourse in a strain above mortality.\n\n_Sect._ 12.--We term sleep a death; and yet it is waking that kills\nus, and destroys those spirits that are the house of life. \u2019Tis indeed\na part of life that best expresseth death; for every man truly lives,\nso long as he acts his nature, or some way makes good the faculties of\nhimself. Themistocles therefore, that slew his soldier in his sleep,\nwas a merciful executioner: \u2019tis a kind of punishment the mildness of\nno laws hath invented; I wonder the fancy of Lucan and Seneca did not\ndiscover it. It is that death by which we may be literally said to die\ndaily; a death which Adam died before his mortality; a death whereby we\nlive a middle and moderating point between life and death. In fine, so\nlike death, I dare not trust it without my prayers, and an half adieu\nunto the world, and take my farewell in a colloquy with God:--\n\n    The night is come, like to the day;\n    Depart not thou, great God, away.\n    Let not my sins, black as the night,\n    Eclipse the lustre of thy light.\n    Keep still in my horizon; for to me\n    The sun makes not the day, but thee.\n    Thou whose nature cannot sleep,\n    On my temples sentry keep;\n    Guard me \u2019gainst those watchful foes,\n    Whose eyes are open while mine close.\n    Let no dreams my head infest,\n    But such as Jacob\u2019s temples blest.\n    While I do rest, my soul advance:\n    Make my sleep a holy trance:\n    That I may, my rest being wrought,\n    Awake into some holy thought,\n    And with as active vigour run\n    My course as doth the nimble sun.\n    Sleep is a death;--Oh make me try,\n    By sleeping, what it is to die!\n    And as gently lay my head\n    On my grave, as now my bed.\n    Howe\u2019er I rest, great God, let me\n    Awake again at last with thee.\n    And thus assured, behold I lie\n    Securely, or to wake or die.\n    These are my drowsy days; in vain\n    I do now wake to sleep again:\n    Oh come that hour, when I shall never\n    Sleep again, but wake for ever!\n\nThis is the dormitive I take to bedward; I need no other _laudanum_\nthan this to make me sleep; after which I close mine eyes in security,\ncontent to take my leave of the sun, and sleep unto the resurrection.\n\n_Sect._ 13.--The method I should use in distributive justice, I often\nobserve in commutative; and keep a geometrical proportion in both,\nwhereby becoming equable to others, I become unjust to myself, and\nsupererogate in that common principle, \u201cDo unto others as thou wouldst\nbe done unto thyself.\u201d I was not born unto riches, neither is it, I\nthink, my star to be wealthy; or if it were, the freedom of my mind,\nand frankness of my disposition, were able to contradict and cross my\nfates: for to me avarice seems not so much a vice, as a deplorable\npiece of madness; to conceive ourselves urinals, or be persuaded that\nwe are dead, is not so ridiculous, nor so many degrees beyond the power\nof hellebore,[100] as this. The opinions of theory, and positions of\nmen, are not so void of reason, as their practised conclusions. Some\nhave held that snow is black, that the earth moves, that the soul is\nair, fire, water; but all this is philosophy: and there is no delirium,\nif we do but speculate the folly and indisputable dotage of avarice.\nTo that subterraneous idol, and god of the earth, I do confess I am\nan atheist. I cannot persuade myself to honour that the world adores;\nwhatsoever virtue its prepared substance may have within my body, it\nhath no influence nor operation without. I would not entertain a base\ndesign, or an action that should call me villain, for the Indies; and\nfor this only do I love and honour my own soul, and have methinks two\narms too few to embrace myself. Aristotle is too severe, that will not\nallow us to be truly liberal without wealth, and the bountiful hand of\nfortune; if this be true, I must confess I am charitable only in my\nliberal intentions, and bountiful well wishes. But if the example of\nthe mite be not only an act of wonder, but an example of the noblest\ncharity, surely poor men may also build hospitals, and the rich alone\nhave not erected cathedrals. I have a private method which others\nobserve not; I take the opportunity of myself to do good; I borrow\noccasion of charity from my own necessities, and supply the wants of\nothers, when I am in most need myself: for it is an honest stratagem\nto take advantage of ourselves, and so to husband the acts of virtue,\nthat, where they are defective in one circumstance, they may repay\ntheir want, and multiply their goodness in another. I have not Peru in\nmy desires, but a competence and ability to perform those good works\nto which he hath inclined my nature. He is rich who hath enough to be\ncharitable; and it is hard to be so poor that a noble mind may not find\na way to this piece of goodness. \u201cHe that giveth to the poor lendeth\nto the Lord:\u201d there is more rhetorick in that one sentence than in a\nlibrary of sermons. And indeed, if those sentences were understood by\nthe reader with the same emphasis as they are delivered by the author,\nwe needed not those volumes of instructions, but might be honest by\nan epitome. Upon this motive only I cannot behold a beggar without\nrelieving his necessities with my purse, or his soul with my prayers.\nThese scenical and accidental differences between us cannot make me\nforget that common and untoucht part of us both: there is under these\ncentoes[101] and miserable outsides, those mutilate and semi bodies,\na soul of the same alloy with our own, whose genealogy is God\u2019s as\nwell as ours, and in as fair a way to salvation as ourselves. Statists\nthat labour to contrive a commonwealth without our poverty take away\nthe object of charity; not understanding only the commonwealth of a\nChristian, but forgetting the prophecy of Christ.[S]\n\n[S] \u201cThe poor ye have always with you.\u201d\n\n_Sect._ 14.--Now, there is another part of charity, which is the basis\nand pillar of this, and that is the love of God, for whom we love\nour neighbour; for this I think charity, to love God for himself,\nand our neighbour for God. And all that is truly amiable is God, or\nas it were a divided piece of him, that retains a reflex or shadow\nof himself. Nor is it strange that we should place affection on that\nwhich is invisible: all that we truly love is thus. What we adore under\naffection of our senses deserves not the honour of so pure a title.\nThus we adore virtue, though to the eyes of sense she be invisible.\nThus that part of our noble friends that we love is not that part that\nwe embrace, but that insensible part that our arms cannot embrace. God\nbeing all goodness, can love nothing but himself; he loves us but for\nthat part which is as it were himself, and the traduction of his Holy\nSpirit. Let us call to assize the loves of our parents, the affection\nof our wives and children, and they are all dumb shows and dreams,\nwithout reality, truth, or constancy. For first there is a strong bond\nof affection between us and our parents; yet how easily dissolved!\nWe betake ourselves to a woman, forgetting our mother in a wife, and\nthe womb that bare us in that which shall bear our image. This woman\nblessing us with children, our affection leaves the level it held\nbefore, and sinks from our bed unto our issue and picture of posterity:\nwhere affection holds no steady mansion; they growing up in years,\ndesire our ends; or, applying themselves to a woman, take a lawful way\nto love another better than ourselves. Thus I perceive a man may be\nburied alive, and behold his grave in his own issue.\n\n_Sect._ 15.--I conclude therefore, and say, there is no happiness under\n(or, as Copernicus[T] will have it, above) the sun; nor any crambe[102]\nin that repeated verity and burthen of all the wisdom of Solomon: \u201cAll\nis vanity and vexation of spirit;\u201d there is no felicity in that the\nworld adores. Aristotle, whilst he labours to refute the _ideas_ of\nPlato, falls upon one himself: for his _summum bonum_ is a chim\u00e6ra;\nand there is no such thing as his felicity. That wherein God himself\nis happy, the holy angels are happy, in whose defect the devils are\nunhappy;--that dare I call happiness: whatsoever conduceth unto this,\nmay, with an easy metaphor, deserve that name; whatsoever else the\nworld terms happiness is, to me, a story out of Pliny, a tale of Bocace\nor Malizspini, an apparition or neat delusion, wherein there is no more\nof happiness than the name. Bless me in this life with but the peace\nof my conscience, command of my affections, the love of thyself and\nmy dearest friends, and I shall be happy enough to pity C\u00e6sar! These\nare, O Lord, the humble desires of my most reasonable ambition, and\nall I dare call happiness on earth; wherein I set no rule or limit to\nthy hand or providence; dispose of me according to the wisdom of thy\npleasure. Thy will be done, though in my own undoing.\n\n[T] Who holds that the sun is the centre of the world.\n\n\n\n\nHYDRIOTAPHIA.\n\n\nURN BURIAL; OR, A DISCOURSE OF THE SEPULCHRAL URNS LATELY FOUND IN\nNORFOLK.\n\n\n\n\nTO MY WORTHY AND HONOURED FRIEND,\n\nTHOMAS LE GROS,\n\nOF CROSTWICK, ESQUIRE.\n\nWHEN the general pyre was out, and the last valediction over, men\ntook a lasting adieu of their interred friends, little expecting the\ncuriosity of future ages should comment upon their ashes; and, having\nno old experience of the duration of their relicks, held no opinion of\nsuch after-considerations.\n\nBut who knows the fate of his bones, or how often he is to be buried?\nWho hath the oracle of his ashes, or whither they are to be scattered?\nThe relicks of many lie like the ruins of Pompey\u2019s,[U] in all parts of\nthe earth; and when they arrive at your hands these may seem to have\nwandered far, who, in a direct and meridian travel,[V] have but few\nmiles of known earth between yourself and the pole.\n\n[U] \u201cPompeios juvenes Asia atque Europa, sed ipsum terr\u00e2 tegit Libyos.\u201d\n\n[V] Little directly but sea, between your house and Greenland.\n\nThat the bones of Theseus should be seen again in Athens[W] was not\nbeyond conjecture and hopeful expectation: but that these should arise\nso opportunely to serve yourself was an hit of fate, and honour beyond\nprediction.\n\n[W] Brought back by Cimon Plutarch.\n\nWe cannot but wish these urns might have the effect of theatrical\nvessels and great Hippodrome urns[X] in Rome, to resound the\nacclamations and honour due unto you. But these are sad and sepulchral\npitchers, which have no joyful voices; silently expressing old\nmortality, the ruins of forgotten times, and can only speak with life,\nhow long in this corruptible frame some parts may be uncorrupted; yet\nable to outlast bones long unborn, and noblest pile among us.\n\n[X] The great urns at the Hippodrome at Rome, conceived to resound the\nvoices of people at their shows.\n\nWe present not these as any strange sight or spectacle unknown to your\neyes, who have beheld the best of urns and noblest variety of ashes;\nwho are yourself no slender master of antiquities, and can daily\ncommand the view of so many imperial faces; which raiseth your thoughts\nunto old things and consideration of times before you, when even living\nmen were antiquities; when the living might exceed the dead, and to\ndepart this world could not be properly said to go unto the greater\nnumber.[Y] And so run up your thoughts upon the ancient of days, the\nantiquary\u2019s truest object, unto whom the eldest parcels are young, and\nearth itself an infant, and without Egyptian[Z] account makes but small\nnoise in thousands.\n\n[Y] \u201cAbiit ad plures.\u201d\n\n[Z] Which makes the world so many years old.\n\nWe were hinted by the occasion, not catched the opportunity to write\nof old things, or intrude upon the antiquary. We are coldly drawn unto\ndiscourses of antiquities, who have scarce time before us to comprehend\nnew things, or make out learned novelties. But seeing they arose, as\nthey lay almost in silence among us, at least in short account suddenly\npassed over, we were very unwilling they should die again, and be\nburied twice among us.\n\nBeside, to preserve the living, and make the dead to live, to keep\nmen out of their urns, and discourse of human fragments in them, is\nnot impertinent unto our profession; whose study is life and death,\nwho daily behold examples of mortality, and of all men least need\nartificial _mementos_, or coffins by our bedside, to mind us of our\ngraves.\n\n\u2019Tis time to observe occurrences, and let nothing remarkable escape us:\nthe supinity of elder days hath left so much in silence, or time hath\nso martyred the records, that the most industrious heads do find no\neasy work to erect a new Britannia.\n\n\u2019Tis opportune to look back upon old times, and contemplate our\nforefathers. Great examples grow thin, and to be fetched from the\npassed world. Simplicity flies away, and iniquity comes at long strides\nupon us. We have enough to do to make up ourselves from present and\npassed times, and the whole stage of things scarce serveth for our\ninstruction. A complete piece of virtue must be made from the Centos\nof all ages, as all the beauties of Greece could make but one handsome\nVenus.\n\nWhen the bones of King Arthur were digged up,[AA] the old race might\nthink they beheld therein some originals of themselves; unto these\nof our urns none here can pretend relation, and can only behold the\nrelicks of those persons who, in their life giving the laws unto their\npredecessors, after long obscurity, now lie at their mercies. But,\nremembering the early civility they brought upon these countries, and\nforgetting long-passed mischiefs, we mercifully preserve their bones,\nand piss not upon their ashes.\n\n[AA] In the time of Henry the Second.\n\nIn the offer of these antiquities we drive not at ancient families,\nso long outlasted by them. We are far from erecting your worth upon\nthe pillars of your forefathers, whose merits you illustrate. We\nhonour your old virtues, conformable unto times before you, which are\nthe noblest armoury. And, having long experience of your friendly\nconversation, void of empty formality, full of freedom, constant and\ngenerous honesty, I look upon you as a gem of the old rock,[AB] and\nmust profess myself even to urn and ashes.--Your ever faithful Friend\nand Servant,\n\n[AB] \u201cAdamas de rupe veteri pr\u00e6stantissimus.\u201d\n\n  THOMAS BROWNE.\n\nNORWICH, _May 1st_.\n\n\n\n\nHYDRIOTAPHIA.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nIN the deep discovery of the subterranean world a shallow part would\nsatisfy some inquirers; who, if two or three yards were open about the\nsurface, would not care to rake the bowels of Potosi,[AC] and regions\ntoward the centre. Nature hath furnished one part of the earth, and man\nanother. The treasures of time lie high, in urns, coins, and monuments,\nscarce below the roots of some vegetables. Time hath endless rarities,\nand shows of all varieties; which reveals old things in heaven, makes\nnew discoveries in earth, and even earth itself a discovery. That great\nantiquity America lay buried for thousands of years, and a large part\nof the earth is still in the urn unto us.\n\n[AC] The rich mountain of Peru.\n\nThough if Adam were made out of an extract of the earth, all parts\nmight challenge a restitution, yet few have returned their bones far\nlower than they might receive them; not affecting the graves of giants,\nunder hilly and heavy coverings, but content with less than their\nown depth, have wished their bones might lie soft, and the earth be\nlight upon them. Even such as hope to rise again, would not be content\nwith central interment, or so desperately to place their relicks as\nto lie beyond discovery; and in no way to be seen again; which happy\ncontrivance hath made communication with our forefathers, and left unto\nour view some parts, which they never beheld themselves.\n\nThough earth hath engrossed the name, yet water hath proved the\nsmartest grave; which in forty days swallowed almost mankind, and the\nliving creation; fishes not wholly escaping, except the salt ocean were\nhandsomely contempered by a mixture of the fresh element.\n\nMany have taken voluminous pains to determine the state of the soul\nupon disunion; but men have been most phantastical in the singular\ncontrivances of their corporal dissolution: whilst the soberest nations\nhave rested in two ways, of simple inhumation and burning.\n\nThat carnal interment or burying was of the elder date, the old\nexamples of Abraham and the patriarchs are sufficient to illustrate;\nand were without competition, if it could be made out that Adam was\nburied near Damascus, or Mount Calvary, according to some tradition.\nGod himself, that buried but one, was pleased to make choice of this\nway, collectible from Scripture expression, and the hot contest between\nSatan and the archangel about discovering the body of Moses. But the\npractice of burning was also of great antiquity, and of no slender\nextent. For (not to derive the same from Hercules) noble descriptions\nthere are hereof in the Grecian funerals of Homer, in the formal\nobsequies of Patroclus and Achilles; and somewhat elder in the Theban\nwar, and solemn combustion of Meneceus, and Archemorus, contemporary\nunto Jair the eighth judge of Israel. Confirmable also among the\nTrojans, from the funeral pyre of Hector, burnt before the gates of\nTroy: and the burning of Penthesilea the Amazonian queen: and long\ncontinuance of that practice, in the inward countries of Asia; while as\nlow as the reign of Julian, we find that the king of Chionia[AD] burnt\nthe body of his son, and interred the ashes in a silver urn.\n\n[AD] Gumbrates, king of Chionia, a country near Persia.\n\nThe same practice extended also far west; and besides Herulians, Getes,\nand Thracians, was in use with most of the Celt\u00e6, Sarmatians, Germans,\nGauls, Danes, Swedes, Norwegians; not to omit some use thereof among\nCarthaginians and Americans. Of greater antiquity among the Romans\nthan most opinion, or Pliny seems to allow: for (besides the old table\nlaws[AE] of burning or burying within the city, of making the funeral\nfire with planed wood, or quenching the fire with wine), Manlius the\nconsul burnt the body of his son: Numa, by special clause of his will,\nwas not burnt but buried; and Remus was solemnly burned, according to\nthe description of Ovid.[AF]\n\n[AE] XII. Tabul\u00e6, part i., de jure sacro, \u201cHominem mortuum in urbe ne\nsepelito neve urito.\u201d\n\n[AF] \u201cUltima prolata subdita flamma rogo,\u201d &c. _Fast._, lib. iv., 856.\n\nCornelius Sylla was not the first whose body was burned in Rome, but\nthe first of the Cornelian family; which being indifferently, not\nfrequently used before; from that time spread, and became the prevalent\npractice. Not totally pursued in the highest run of cremation; for\nwhen even crows were funerally burnt, Popp\u00e6a the wife of Nero found a\npeculiar grave interment. Now as all customs were founded upon some\nbottom of reason, so there wanted not grounds for this; according\nto several apprehensions of the most rational dissolution. Some\nbeing of the opinion of Thales, that water was the original of all\nthings, thought it most equal[103] to submit unto the principle of\nputrefaction, and conclude in a moist relentment.[104] Others conceived\nit most natural to end in fire, as due unto the master principle in the\ncomposition, according to the doctrine of Heraclitus; and therefore\nheaped up large piles, more actively to waft them toward that element,\nwhereby they also declined a visible degeneration into worms, and left\na lasting parcel of their composition.\n\nSome apprehended a purifying virtue in fire, refining the grosser\ncommixture, and firing out the \u00e6thereal particles so deeply immersed\nin it. And such as by tradition or rational conjecture held any hint\nof the final pyre of all things; or that this element at last must be\ntoo hard for all the rest; might conceive most naturally of the fiery\ndissolution. Others pretending no natural grounds, politickly declined\nthe malice of enemies upon their buried bodies. Which consideration led\nSylla unto this practice; who having thus served the body of Marius,\ncould not but fear a retaliation upon his own; entertained after in the\ncivil wars, and revengeful contentions of Rome.\n\nBut as many nations embraced, and many left it indifferent, so others\ntoo much affected, or strictly declined this practice. The Indian\nBrachmans seemed too great friends unto fire, who burnt themselves\nalive and thought it the noblest way to end their days in fire;\naccording to the expression of the Indian, burning himself at Athens,\nin his last words upon the pyre unto the amazed spectators, \u201cthus I\nmake myself immortal.\u201d[AG]\n\n[AG] And therefore the inscription on his tomb was made accordingly,\n\u201cHic Damase.\u201d\n\nBut the Chaldeans, the great idolaters of fire, abhorred the burning of\ntheir carcases, as a pollution of that deity. The Persian magi declined\nit upon the like scruples, and being only solicitous about their bones,\nexposed their flesh to the prey of birds and dogs. And the Persees now\nin India, which expose their bodies unto vultures, and endure not so\nmuch as _feretra_ or biers of wood, the proper fuel of fire, are led on\nwith such niceties. But whether the ancient Germans, who burned their\ndead, held any such fear to pollute their deity of Herthus, or the\nearth, we have no authentic conjecture.\n\nThe Egyptians were afraid of fire, not as a deity, but a devouring\nelement, mercilessly consuming their bodies, and leaving too little\nof them; and therefore by precious embalmments, depositure in dry\nearths, or handsome inclosure in glasses, contrived the notablest ways\nof integral conservation. And from such Egyptian scruples, imbibed by\nPythagoras, it may be conjectured that Numa and the Pythagorical sect\nfirst waived the fiery solution.\n\nThe Scythians, who swore by wind and sword, that is, by life and\ndeath, were so far from burning their bodies, that they declined all\ninterment, and made their graves in the air: and the Ichthyophagi, or\nfish-eating nations about Egypt, affected the sea for their grave;\nthereby declining visible corruption, and restoring the debt of their\nbodies. Whereas the old heroes, in Homer, dreaded nothing more than\nwater or drowning; probably upon the old opinion of the fiery substance\nof the soul, only extinguishable by that element; and therefore the\npoet emphatically implieth[AH] the total destruction in this kind of\ndeath, which happened to Ajax Oileus.\n\n[AH] Which Magius reads \u1f10\u03be\u03b1\u03c0\u03cc\u03bb\u03c9\u03bb\u03b5.\n\nThe old Balearians had a peculiar mode, for they used great urns and\nmuch wood, but no fire in their burials, while they bruised the flesh\nand bones of the dead, crowded them into urns, and laid heaps of wood\nupon them. And the Chinese without cremation or urnal interment of\ntheir bodies, make use of trees and much burning, while they plant a\npine-tree by their grave, and burn great numbers of printed draughts\nof slaves and horses over it, civilly content with their companies in\n_effigy_, which barbarous nations exact unto reality.\n\nChristians abhorred this way of obsequies, and though they sticked\nnot to give their bodies to be burnt in their lives, detested that\nmode after death: affecting rather a depositure than absumption, and\nproperly submitting unto the sentence of God, to return not unto\nashes but unto dust again, and conformable unto the practice of the\npatriarchs, the interment of our Saviour, of Peter, Paul, and the\nancient martyrs. And so far at last declining promiscuous interment\nwith Pagans, that some have suffered ecclesiastical censures,[AI] for\nmaking no scruple thereof.\n\n[AI] Martialis the Bishop.\n\nThe Mussulman believers will never admit this fiery resolution. For\nthey hold a present trial from their black and white angels in the\ngrave; which they must have made so hollow, that they may rise upon\ntheir knees.\n\nThe Jewish nation, though they entertained the old way of inhumation,\nyet sometimes admitted this practice. For the men of Jabesh burnt\nthe body of Saul; and by no prohibited practice, to avoid contagion\nor pollution, in time of pestilence, burnt the bodies of their\nfriends.[AJ] And when they burnt not their dead bodies, yet sometimes\nused great burnings near and about them, deducible from the expressions\nconcerning Jehoram, Zedechias, and the sumptuous pyre of Asa. And were\nso little averse from Pagan burning, that the Jews lamenting the death\nof C\u00e6sar their friend, and revenger on Pompey, frequented the place\nwhere his body was burnt for many nights together. And as they raised\nnoble monuments and mausoleums for their own nation,[AK] so they were\nnot scrupulous in erecting some for others, according to the practice\nof Daniel, who left that lasting sepulchral pile in Ecbatana, for the\nMedian and Persian kings.[AL]\n\n[AJ] Amos vi. 10.\n\n[AK] As in that magnificent sepulchral monument erected by Simon.--1\n_Macc._ xiii.\n\n[AL] \u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03b1\u03c3\u03ba\u03b5\u03cd\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b1\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c3\u03af\u03c9\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd, whereof a Jewish priest had\nalways custody until Josephus\u2019 days.--_Jos. Antiq._, lib. x.\n\nBut even in times of subjection and hottest use, they conformed not\nunto the Roman practice of burning; whereby the prophecy was secured\nconcerning the body of Christ, that it should not see corruption, or\na bone should not be broken; which we believe was also providentially\nprevented, from the soldier\u2019s spear and nails that passed by the little\nbones both in his hands and feet; not of ordinary contrivance, that\nit should not corrupt on the cross, according to the laws of Roman\ncrucifixion, or an hair of his head perish, though observable in Jewish\ncustoms, to cut the hair of malefactors.\n\nNor in their long cohabitation with Egyptians, crept into a custom of\ntheir exact embalming, wherein deeply slashing the muscles, and taking\nout the brains and entrails, they had broken the subject of so entire a\nresurrection, nor fully answered the types of Enoch, Elijah, or Jonah,\nwhich yet to prevent or restore, was of equal facility unto that rising\npower able to break the fasciations and bands of death, to get clear\nout of the cerecloth, and an hundred pounds of ointment, and out of the\nsepulchre before the stone was rolled from it.\n\nBut though they embraced not this practice of burning, yet entertained\nthey many ceremonies agreeable unto Greek and Roman obsequies. And\nhe that observeth their funeral feasts, their lamentations at the\ngrave, their music, and weeping mourners; how they closed the eyes of\ntheir friends, how they washed, anointed, and kissed the dead; may\neasily conclude these were not mere Pagan civilities. But whether\nthat mournful burthen, and treble calling out after Absalom, had any\nreference unto the last conclamation, and triple valediction, used by\nother nations, we hold but a wavering conjecture.\n\nCivilians make sepulture but of the law of nations, others do\nnaturally found it and discover it also in animals. They that are so\nthick-skinned as still to credit the story of the Ph\u0153nix, may say\nsomething for animal burning. More serious conjectures find some\nexamples of sepulture in elephants, cranes, the sepulchral cells of\npismires, and practice of bees,--which civil society carrieth out their\ndead, and hath exequies, if not interments.\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE solemnities, ceremonies, rites of their cremation or interment,\nso solemnly delivered by authors, we shall not disparage our reader\nto repeat. Only the last and lasting part in their urns, collected\nbones and ashes, we cannot wholly omit or decline that subject, which\noccasion lately presented, in some discovered among us.\n\nIn a field of Old Walsingham, not many months past, were digged up\nbetween forty and fifty urns, deposited in a dry and sandy soil, not a\nyard deep, nor far from one another.--Not all strictly of one figure,\nbut most answering these described; some containing two pounds of\nbones, and teeth, with fresh impressions of their combustion; besides\nthe extraneous substances, like pieces of small boxes, or combs\nhandsomely wrought, handles of small brass instruments, brazen nippers,\nand in one some kind of opal.\n\nNear the same plot of ground, for about six yards compass, were digged\nup coals and incinerated substances, which begat conjecture that this\nwas the _ustrina_ or place of burning their bodies, or some sacrificing\nplace unto the _Manes_, which was properly below the surface of the\nground, as the _ar\u00e6_ and altars unto the gods and heroes above it.\n\nThat these were the urns of Romans from the common custom and place\nwhere they were found, is no obscure conjecture, not far from a Roman\ngarrison, and but five miles from Brancaster, set down by ancient\nrecord under the name of Branodunum. And where the adjoining town,\ncontaining seven parishes, in no very different sound, but Saxon\ntermination, still retains the name of Burnham, which being an early\nstation, it is not improbable the neighbour parts were filled with\nhabitations, either of Romans themselves, or Britons Romanized, which\nobserved the Roman customs.\n\nNor is it improbable, that the Romans early possessed this country.\nFor though we meet not with such strict particulars of these parts\nbefore the new institution of Constantine and military charge of the\ncount of the Saxon shore, and that about the Saxon invasions, the\nDalmatian horsemen were in the garrison of Brancaster; yet in the time\nof Claudius, Vespasian, and Severus, we find no less than three legions\ndispersed through the province of Britain. And as high as the reign\nof Claudius a great overthrow was given unto the Iceni, by the Roman\nlieutenant Ostorius. Not long after, the country was so molested, that,\nin hope of a better state, Prastaagus bequeathed his kingdom unto Nero\nand his daughters; and Boadicea, his queen, fought the last decisive\nbattle with Paulinus. After which time, and conquest of Agricola, the\nlieutenant of Vespasian, probable it is, they wholly possessed this\ncountry; ordering it into garrisons or habitations best suitable with\ntheir securities. And so some Roman habitations not improbable in these\nparts, as high as the time of Vespasian, where the Saxons after seated,\nin whose thin-filled maps we yet find the name of Walsingham. Now if\nthe Iceni were but Gammadims, Anconians, or men that lived in an angle,\nwedge, or elbow of Britain, according to the original etymology, this\ncountry will challenge the emphatical appellation, as most properly\nmaking the elbow or _iken_ of Icenia.\n\nThat Britain was notably populous is undeniable, from that expression\nof C\u00e6sar.[AM] That the Romans themselves were early in no small\nnumbers--seventy thousand, with their associates, slain, by Boadicea,\naffords a sure account. And though not many Roman habitations are now\nknown, yet some, by old works, rampiers, coins, and urns, do testify\ntheir possessions. Some urns have been found at Castor, some also\nabout Southcreak, and, not many years past, no less than ten in a\nfield at Buxton, not near any recorded garrison. Nor is it strange to\nfind Roman coins of copper and silver among us; of Vespasian, Trajan,\nAdrian, Commodus, Antoninus, Severus, &c.; but the greater number of\nDioclesian, Constantine, Constans, Valens, with many of Victorinus\nPosthumius, Tetricus, and the thirty tyrants in the reign of Gallienus;\nand some as high as Adrianus have been found about Thetford, or\nSitomagus, mentioned in the _Itinerary_ of Antoninus, as the way from\nVenta or Castor unto London. But the most frequent discovery is made at\nthe two Castors by Norwich and Yarmouth at Burghcastle, and Brancaster.\n\n[AM] \u201cHominum infinita multitudo est creberrimaque; \u00e6dificia fere\nGallicis consimilia.\u201d--_C\u00e6sar de Bello. Gal._, lib. v.\n\nBesides the Norman, Saxon, and Danish pieces of Cuthred, Canutus,\nWilliam, Matilda, and others, some British coins of gold have been\ndispersedly found, and no small number of silver pieces near Norwich,\nwith a rude head upon the obverse, and an ill-formed horse on the\nreverse, with inscriptions _Ic. Duro. T.;_ whether implying Iceni,\nDurotriges, Tascia, or Trinobantes, we leave to higher conjecture.\nVulgar chronology will have Norwich Castle as old as Julius C\u00e6sar;\nbut his distance from these parts, and its Gothick form of structure,\nabridgeth such antiquity. The British coins afford conjecture of early\nhabitation in these parts, though the city of Norwich arose from the\nruins of Venta; and though, perhaps, not without some habitation\nbefore, was enlarged, builded, and nominated by the Saxons. In what\nbulk or populosity it stood in the old East-Angle monarchy tradition\nand history are silent. Considerable it was in the Danish eruptions,\nwhen Sueno burnt Thetford and Norwich, and Ulfketel, the governor\nthereof, was able to make some resistance, and after endeavoured to\nburn the Danish navy.\n\nHow the Romans left so many coins in countries of their conquests\nseems of hard resolution; except we consider how they buried them\nunder ground when, upon barbarous invasions, they were fain to desert\ntheir habitations in most part of their empire, and the strictness\nof their laws forbidding to transfer them to any other uses: wherein\nthe Spartans were singular, who, to make their copper money useless,\ncontempered it with vinegar. That the Britons left any, some wonder,\nsince their money was iron and iron rings before C\u00e6sar; and those of\nafter-stamp by permission, and but small in bulk and bigness. That so\nfew of the Saxons remain, because, overcome by succeeding conquerors\nupon the place, their coins, by degrees, passed into other stamps and\nthe marks of after-ages.\n\nThan the time of these urns deposited, or precise antiquity of these\nrelicks, nothing of more uncertainty; for since the lieutenant of\nClaudius seems to have made the first progress into these parts, since\nBoadicea was overthrown by the forces of Nero, and Agricola put a\nfull end to these conquests, it is not probable the country was fully\ngarrisoned or planted before; and, therefore, however these urns might\nbe of later date, not likely of higher antiquity.\n\nAnd the succeeding emperors desisted not from their conquests in these\nand other parts, as testified by history and medal-inscription yet\nextant: the province of Britain, in so divided a distance from Rome,\nbeholding the faces of many imperial persons, and in large account;\nno fewer than C\u00e6sar, Claudius, Britannicus, Vespasian, Titus, Adrian,\nSeverus, Commodus, Geta, and Caracalla.\n\nA great obscurity herein, because no medal or emperor\u2019s coin enclosed,\nwhich might denote the date of their interments; observable in many\nurns, and found in those of Spitalfields, by London, which contained\nthe coins of Claudius, Vespasian, Commodus, Antoninus, attended with\nlacrymatories, lamps, bottles of liquor, and other appurtenances of\naffectionate superstition, which in these rural interments were wanting.\n\nSome uncertainty there is from the period or term of burning, or the\ncessation of that practice. Macrobius affirmeth it was disused in his\ndays; but most agree, though without authentic record, that it ceased\nwith the Antonini,--most safely to be understood after the reign of\nthose emperors which assumed the name of Antoninus, extending unto\nHeliogabalus. Not strictly after Marcus; for about fifty years later,\nwe find the magnificent burning and consecration of Servus; and, if\nwe so fix this period or cessation, these urns will challenge above\nthirteen hundred years.\n\nBut whether this practice was only then left by emperors and great\npersons, or generally about Rome, and not in other provinces, we hold\nno authentic account; for after Tertullian, in the days of Minucius,\nit was obviously objected upon Christians, that they condemned the\npractice of burning.[AN] And we find a passage in Sidonius, which\nasserteth that practice in France unto a lower account. And, perhaps,\nnot fully disused till Christianity fully established, which gave the\nfinal extinction to these sepulchral bonfires.\n\n[AN] \u201c_Execrantur rogos, et damnant ignium sepulturam._\u201d--_Min. in Oct._\n\nWhether they were the bones of men, or women, or children, no authentic\ndecision from ancient custom in distinct places of burial. Although not\nimprobably conjectured, that the double sepulture, or burying-place of\nAbraham, had in it such intention. But from exility of bones, thinness\nof skulls, smallness of teeth, ribs, and thigh-bones, not improbable\nthat many thereof were persons of minor age, or woman. Confirmable also\nfrom things contained in them. In most were found substances resembling\ncombs, plates like boxes, fastened with iron pins, and handsomely\noverwrought like the necks or bridges of musical instruments; long\nbrass plates overwrought like the handles of neat implements; brazen\nnippers, to pull away hair; and in one a kind of opal, yet maintaining\na bluish colour.\n\nNow that they accustomed to burn or bury with them, things wherein\nthey excelled, delighted, or which were dear unto them, either as\nfarewells unto all pleasure, or vain apprehension that they might use\nthem in the other world, is testified by all antiquity, observable\nfrom the gem or beryl ring upon the finger of Cynthia, the mistress of\nPropertius, when after her funeral pyre her ghost appeared unto him;\nand notably illustrated from the contents of that Roman urn preserved\nby Cardinal Farnese, wherein besides great number of gems with heads\nof gods and goddesses, were found an ape of agath, a grasshopper, an\nelephant of amber, a crystal ball, three glasses, two spoons, and\nsix nuts of crystal; and beyond the content of urns, in the monument\nof Childerick the first, and fourth king from Pharamond, casually\ndiscovered three years past at Tournay, restoring unto the world much\ngold richly adorning his sword, two hundred rubies, many hundred\nimperial coins, three hundred golden bees, the bones and horse-shoes of\nhis horse interred with him, according to the barbarous magnificence\nof those days in their sepulchral obsequies. Although, if we steer by\nthe conjecture of many a Septuagint expression, some trace thereof may\nbe found even with the ancient Hebrews, not only from the sepulchral\ntreasure of David, but the circumcision knives which Joshua also buried.\n\nSome men, considering the contents of these urns, lasting pieces and\ntoys included in them, and the custom of burning with many other\nnations, might somewhat doubt whether all urns found among us, were\nproperly Roman relicks, or some not belonging unto our British, Saxon,\nor Danish forefathers.\n\nIn the form of burial among the ancient Britons, the large discourses\nof C\u00e6sar, Tacitus, and Strabo are silent. For the discovery whereof,\nwith other particulars, we much deplore the loss of that letter which\nCicero expected or received from his brother Quintus, as a resolution\nof British customs; or the account which might have been made by\nScribonius Largus, the physician, accompanying the Emperor Claudius,\nwho might have also discovered that frugal bit of the old Britons,\nwhich in the bigness of a bean could satisfy their thirst and hunger.\n\nBut that the Druids and ruling priests used to burn and bury, is\nexpressed by Pomponius; that Bellinus, the brother of Brennus, and King\nof the Britons, was burnt, is acknowledged by Polydorus, as also by\nAmandus Zierexensis in _Historia_ and Pineda in his _Universa Historia_\n(Spanish). That they held that practice in Gallia, C\u00e6sar expressly\ndelivereth. Whether the Britons (probably descended from them, of like\nreligion, language, and manners) did not sometimes make use of burning,\nor whether at least such as were after civilized unto the Roman life\nand manners, conformed not unto this practice, we have no historical\nassertion or denial. But since, from the account of Tacitus, the Romans\nearly wrought so much civility upon the British stock, that they\nbrought them to build temples, to wear the gown, and study the Roman\nlaws and language, that they conformed also unto their religious rites\nand customs in burials, seems no improbable conjecture.\n\nThat burning the dead was used in Sarmatia is affirmed by Gaguinus;\nthat the Sueons and Gathlanders used to burn their princes and great\npersons, is delivered by Saxo and Olaus; that this was the old German\npractice, is also asserted by Tacitus. And though we are bare in\nhistorical particulars of such obsequies in this island, or that the\nSaxons, Jutes, and Angles burnt their dead, yet came they from parts\nwhere \u2019twas of ancient practice; the Germans using it, from whom they\nwere descended. And even in Jutland and Sleswick in Anglia Cymbrica,\nurns with bones were found not many years before us.\n\nBut the Danish and northern nations have raised an era or point of\ncompute from their custom of burning their dead: some deriving it from\nUnguinus, some from Frotho the great, who ordained by law, that princes\nand chief commanders should be committed unto the fire, though the\ncommon sort had the common grave interment. So Starkatterus, that old\nhero, was burnt, and Ringo royally burnt the body of Harold the king\nslain by him.\n\nWhat time this custom generally expired in that nation, we discern no\nassured period; whether it ceased before Christianity, or upon their\nconversion, by Ausgurius the Gaul, in the time of Ludovicus Pius, the\nson of Charles the Great, according to good computes; or whether it\nmight not be used by some persons, while for an hundred and eighty\nyears Paganism and Christianity were promiscuously embraced among\nthem, there is no assured conclusion. About which times the Danes were\nbusy in England, and particularly infested this country; where many\ncastles and strongholds were built by them, or against them, and great\nnumber of names and families still derived from them. But since this\ncustom was probably disused before their invasion or conquest, and the\nRomans confessedly practised the same since their possession of this\nisland, the most assured account will fall upon the Romans, or Britons\nRomanized.\n\nHowever, certain it is, that urns conceived of no Roman original, are\noften digged up both in Norway and Denmark, handsomely described, and\ngraphically represented by the learned physician Wormius. And in some\nparts of Denmark in no ordinary number, as stands delivered by authors\nexactly describing those countries. And they contained not only bones,\nbut many other substances in them, as knives, pieces of iron, brass,\nand wood, and one of Norway a brass gilded jew\u2019s-harp.\n\nNor were they confused or careless in disposing the noblest sort,\nwhile they placed large stones in circle about the urns or bodies\nwhich they interred: somewhat answerable unto the monument of Rollrich\nstones in England, or sepulchral monument probably erected by Rollo,\nwho after conquered Normandy; where \u2019tis not improbable somewhat might\nbe discovered. Meanwhile to what nation or person belonged that large\nurn found at Ashbury,[AO] containing mighty bones, and a buckler; what\nthose large urns found at Little Massingham;[AP] or why the Anglesea\nurns are placed with their mouths downward, remains yet undiscovered.\n\n[AO] In Cheshire.\n\n[AP] In Norfolk.\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nPLAISTERED and whited sepulchres were anciently affected in cadaverous\nand corrupted burials; and the rigid Jews were wont to garnish the\nsepulchres of the righteous.[AQ] Ulysses, in Hecuba, cared not how\nmeanly he lived, so he might find a noble tomb after death.[AR]\nGreat princes affected great monuments; and the fair and larger urns\ncontained no vulgar ashes, which makes that disparity in those which\ntime discovereth among us. The present urns were not of one capacity,\nthe largest containing above a gallon, some not much above half that\nmeasure; nor all of one figure, wherein there is no strict conformity\nin the same or different countries; observable from those represented\nby Casalius, Bosio, and others, though all found in Italy; while many\nhave handles, ears, and long necks, but most imitate a circular figure,\nin a spherical and round composure; whether from any mystery, best\nduration or capacity, were but a conjecture. But the common form with\nnecks was a proper figure, making our last bed like our first; nor\nmuch unlike the urns of our nativity while we lay in the nether part\nof the earth,[AS] and inward vault of our microcosm. Many urns are\nred, these but of a black colour somewhat smooth, and dully sounding,\nwhich begat some doubt, whether they were burnt, or only baked in\noven or sun, according to the ancient way, in many bricks, tiles,\npots, and testaceous works; and, as the word _testa_ is properly to\nbe taken, when occurring without addition and chiefly intended by\nPliny, when he commendeth bricks and tiles of two years old, and to\nmake them in the spring. Nor only these concealed pieces, but the open\nmagnificence of antiquity, ran much in the artifice of clay. Hereof the\nhouse of Mausolus was built, thus old Jupiter stood in the Capitol,\nand the statua of Hercules, made in the reign of Tarquinius Priscus,\nwas extant in Pliny\u2019s days. And such as declined burning or funeral\nurns, affected coffins of clay, according to the mode of Pythagoras, a\nway preferred by Varro. But the spirit of great ones was above these\ncircumscriptions, affecting copper, silver, gold, and porphyry urns,\nwherein Severus lay, after a serious view and sentence on that which\nshould contain him.[AT] Some of these urns were thought to have been\nsilvered over, from sparklings in several pots, with small tinsel\nparcels; uncertain whether from the earth, or the first mixture in them.\n\n[AQ] St Matt. xxiii.\n\n[AR] _Euripides._\n\n[AS] Psal. lxiii.\n\n[AT] \u201c\u03a7\u03c9\u03c1\u03ae\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u1f78\u03bd \u1f04\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd, \u1f42\u03bd \u1f21 \u03bf\u1f30\u03ba\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03bf\u1f50\u03ba \u1f10\u03c7\u03ce\u03c1\u03b7\u03c3\u03b5\u03bd.\u201d--_Dion._\n\nAmong these urns we could obtain no good account of their coverings;\nonly one seemed arched over with some kind of brickwork. Of those found\nat Buxton, some were covered with flints, some, in other parts, with\ntiles; those at Yarmouth Caster were closed with Roman bricks, and\nsome have proper earthen covers adapted and fitted to them. But in the\nHomerical urn of Patroclus, whatever was the solid tegument, we find\nthe immediate covering to be a purple piece of silk: and such as had\nno covers might have the earth closely pressed into them, after which\ndisposure were probably some of these, wherein we found the bones and\nashes half mortared unto the sand and sides of the urn, and some long\nroots of quich, or dog\u2019s-grass, wreathed about the bones.\n\nNo Lamps, included liquors, lacrymatories, or tear bottles, attended\nthese rural urns, either as sacred unto the _manes_, or passionate\nexpressions of their surviving friends. While with rich flames, and\nhired tears, they solemnized their obsequies, and in the most lamented\nmonuments made one part of their inscriptions.[AU] Some find sepulchral\nvessels containing liquors, which time hath incrassated into jellies.\nFor, besides these lacrymatories, notable lamps, with vessels of\noils, and aromatical liquors, attended noble ossuaries; and some yet\nretaining a vinosity and spirit in them, which, if any have tasted,\nthey have far exceeded the palates of antiquity. Liquors not to be\ncomputed by years of annual magistrates, but by great conjunctions and\nthe fatal periods of kingdoms.[AV] The draughts of consulary date were\nbut crude unto these, and Opimian wine but in the must unto them.[AW]\n\n[AU] \u201cCum lacrymis posuere.\u201d\n\n[AV] About five hundred years.\n\n[AW] \u201cVinum Opiminianum annorum centum.\u201d--_Petron._\n\nIn sundry graves and sepulchres we meet with rings, coins, and\nchalices. Ancient frugality was so severe, that they allowed no gold\nto attend the corpse, but only that which served to fasten their\nteeth. Whether the Opaline stone in this were burnt upon the finger of\nthe dead, or cast into the fire by some affectionate friend, it will\nconsist with either custom. But other incinerable substances were found\nso fresh, that they could feel no singe from fire. These, upon view,\nwere judged to be wood; but, sinking in water, and tried by the fire,\nwe found them to be bone or ivory. In their hardness and yellow colour\nthey most resembled box, which, in old expressions, found the epithet\nof eternal, and perhaps in such conservatories might have passed\nuncorrupted.\n\nThat bay leaves were found green in the tomb of S. Humbert, after an\nhundred and fifty years, was looked upon as miraculous. Remarkable it\nwas unto old spectators, that the cypress of the temple of Diana lasted\nso many hundred years. The wood of the ark, and olive-rod of Aaron,\nwere older at the captivity; but the cypress of the ark of Noah was\nthe greatest vegetable of antiquity, if Josephus were not deceived by\nsome fragments of it in his days: to omit the moor logs and fir trees\nfound underground in many parts of England; the undated ruins of winds,\nfloods, or earthquakes, and which in Flanders still show from what\nquarter they fell, as generally lying in a north-east position.\n\nBut though we found not these pieces to be wood, according to first\napprehensions, yet we missed not altogether of some woody substance;\nfor the bones were not so clearly picked but some coals were found\namongst them; a way to make wood perpetual, and a fit associate for\nmetal, whereon was laid the foundation of the great Ephesian temple,\nand which were made the lasting tests of old boundaries and landmarks.\nWhilst we look on these, we admire not observations of coals found\nfresh after four hundred years. In a long-deserted habitation even\negg-shells have been found fresh, not tending to corruption.\n\nIn the monument of King Childerick the iron relicks were found all\nrusty and crumbling into pieces; but our little iron pins, which\nfastened the ivory works, held well together, and lost not their\nmagnetical quality, though wanting a tenacious moisture for the firmer\nunion of parts; although it be hardly drawn into fusion, yet that metal\nsoon submitteth unto rust and dissolution. In the brazen pieces we\nadmired not the duration, but the freedom from rust, and ill savour,\nupon the hardest attrition; but now exposed unto the piercing atoms\nof air, in the space of a few months, they begin to spot and betray\ntheir green entrails. We conceive not these urns to have descended\nthus naked as they appear, or to have entered their graves without the\nold habit of flowers. The urn of Philop\u0153men was so laden with flowers\nand ribbons, that it afforded no sight of itself. The rigid Lycurgus\nallowed olive and myrtle. The Athenians might fairly except against\nthe practice of Democritus, to be buried up in honey, as fearing to\nembezzle a great commodity of their country, and the best of that kind\nin Europe. But Plato seemed too frugally politick, who allowed no\nlarger monument than would contain four heroick verses, and designed\nthe most barren ground for sepulture: though we cannot commend the\ngoodness of that sepulchral ground which was set at no higher rate than\nthe mean salary of Judas. Though the earth had confounded the ashes\nof these ossuaries, yet the bones were so smartly burnt, that some\nthin plates of brass were found half melted among them. Whereby we\napprehend they were not of the meanest caresses, perfunctorily fired,\nas sometimes in military, and commonly in pestilence, burnings; or\nafter the manner of abject corpses, huddled forth and carelessly burnt,\nwithout the Esquiline Port at Rome; which was an affront continued upon\nTiberius, while they but half burnt his body, and in the amphitheatre,\naccording to the custom in notable malefactors;[AX] whereas Nero seemed\nnot so much to fear his death as that his head should be cut off and\nhis body not burnt entire.\n\n[AX] \u201cIn amphitheatro semiustulandum.\u201d--_Suetonius Vit. Tib._\n\nSome, finding many fragments of skulls in these urns, suspected\na mixture of bones; in none we searched was there cause of such\nconjecture, though sometimes they declined not that practice.--The\nashes of Domitian were mingled with those of Julia; of Achilles with\nthose of Patroclus. All urns contained not single ashes; without\nconfused burnings they affectionately compounded their bones;\npassionately endeavouring to continue their living unions. And when\ndistance of death denied such conjunctions, unsatisfied affections\nconceived some satisfaction to be neighbours in the grave, to lie urn\nby urn, and touch but in their manes. And many were so curious to\ncontinue their living relations, that they contrived large and family\nurns, wherein the ashes of their nearest friends and kindred might\nsuccessively be received, at least some parcels thereof, while their\ncollateral memorials lay in minor vessels about them.\n\nAntiquity held too light thoughts from objects of mortality, while\nsome drew provocatives of mirth from anatomies,[AY] and jugglers\nshowed tricks with skeletons. When fiddlers made not so pleasant mirth\nas fencers, and men could sit with quiet stomachs, while hanging\nwas played before them.[AZ] Old considerations made few mementos\nby skulls and bones upon their monuments. In the Egyptian obelisks\nand hieroglyphical figures it is not easy to meet with bones. The\nsepulchral lamps speak nothing less than sepulture, and in their\nliteral draughts prove often obscene and antick pieces. Where we\nfind _D. M._[BA] it is obvious to meet with sacrificing _pateras_\nand vessels of libation upon old sepulchral monuments. In the Jewish\nhypog\u00e6um and subterranean cell at Rome, was little observable beside\nthe variety of lamps and frequent draughts of Anthony and Jerome we\nmeet with thigh-bones and death\u2019s-heads; but the cemeterial cells of\nancient Christians and martyrs were filled with draughts of Scripture\nstories; not declining the flourishes of cypress, palms, and olive,\nand the mystical figures of peacocks, doves, and cocks; but iterately\naffecting the portraits of Enoch, Lazarus, Jonas, and the vision of\nEzekiel, as hopeful draughts, and hinting imagery of the resurrection,\nwhich is the life of the grave, and sweetens our habitations in the\nland of moles and pismires.\n\n[AY] \u201cSic erimus cuncti, ... ergo dum vivimus vivamus.\u201d\n\n[AZ] \u0391\u03b3\u03ce\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03c0\u03b1\u03af\u03b6\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd. A barbarous pastime at feasts, when men stood\nupon a rolling globe, with their necks in a rope and a knife in their\nhands, ready to cut it when the stone was rolled away, wherein, if they\nfailed, they lost their lives, to the laughter of their spectators.\n\n[BA] Diis manibus.\n\nGentle inscriptions precisely delivered the extent of men\u2019s lives,\nseldom the manner of their deaths, which history itself so often leaves\nobscure in the records of memorable persons. There is scarce any\nphilosopher but dies twice or thrice in Laertius; nor almost any life\nwithout two or three deaths in Plutarch; which makes the tragical ends\nof noble persons more favourably resented by compassionate readers who\nfind some relief in the election of such differences.\n\nThe certainty of death is attended with uncertainties, in time, manner,\nplaces. The variety of monuments hath often obscured true graves; and\ncenotaphs confounded sepulchres. For beside their real tombs, many have\nfound honorary and empty sepulchres. The variety of Homer\u2019s monuments\nmade him of various countries. Euripides had his tomb in Africa, but\nhis sepulture in Macedonia. And Severus found his real sepulchre in\nRome, but his empty grave in Gallia.\n\nHe that lay in a golden urn eminently above the earth, was not like\nto find the quiet of his bones. Many of these urns were broke by a\nvulgar discoverer in hope of enclosed treasure. The ashes of Marcellus\nwere lost above ground, upon the like account. Where profit hath\nprompted, no age hath wanted such miners. For which the most barbarous\nexpilators found the most civil rhetorick. Gold once out of the earth\nis no more due unto it; what was unreasonably committed to the ground,\nis reasonably resumed from it; let monuments and rich fabricks, not\nriches, adorn men\u2019s ashes. The commerce of the living is not to be\ntransferred unto the dead; it is not injustice to take that which none\ncomplains to lose, and no man is wronged where no man is possessor.\n\nWhat virtue yet sleeps in this _terra damnata_ and aged cinders, were\npetty magic to experiment. These crumbling relicks and long fired\nparticles superannuate such expectations; bones, hairs, nails, and\nteeth of the dead, were the treasures of old sorcerers. In vain we\nrevive such practices; present superstition too visibly perpetuates the\nfolly of our forefathers, wherein unto old observation this island was\nso complete, that it might have instructed Persia.\n\nPlato\u2019s historian of the other world lies twelve days incorrupted,\nwhile his soul was viewing the large stations of the dead. How to\nkeep the corpse seven days from corruption by anointing and washing,\nwithout extenteration, were an hazardable piece of art, in our choicest\npractice. How they made distinct separation of bones and ashes from\nfiery admixture, hath found no historical solution; though they seemed\nto make a distinct collection and overlooked not Pyrrhus his toe. Some\nprovision they might make by fictile vessels, coverings, tiles, or flat\nstones, upon and about the body (and in the same field, not far from\nthese urns, many stones were found underground), as also by careful\nseparation of extraneous matter composing and raking up the burnt bones\nwith forks, observable in that notable lamp of Galvanus Martianus,\nwho had the sight of the _vas ustrinum_ or vessel wherein they burnt\nthe dead, found in the Esquiline field at Rome, might have afforded\nclearer solution. But their insatisfaction herein begat that remarkable\ninvention in the funeral pyres of some princes, by incombustible sheets\nmade with a texture of asbestos, incremable flax, or salamander\u2019s wool,\nwhich preserved their bones and ashes incommixed.\n\nHow the bulk of a man should sink into so few pounds of bones and\nashes, may seem strange unto any who considers not its constitution,\nand how slender a mass will remain upon an open and urging fire of the\ncarnal composition. Even bones themselves, reduced into ashes, do abate\na notable proportion. And consisting much of a volatile salt, when that\nis fired out, make a light kind of cinders. Although their bulk be\ndisproportionable to their weight, when the heavy principle of salt is\nfired out, and the earth almost only remaineth; observable in sallow,\nwhich makes more ashes than oak, and discovers the common fraud of\nselling ashes by measure, and not by ponderation.\n\nSome bones make best skeletons, some bodies quick and speediest ashes.\nWho would expect a quick flame from hydropical Heraclitus? The poisoned\nsoldier when his belly brake, put out two pyres in Plutarch. But in the\nplague of Athens, one private pyre served two or three intruders; and\nthe Saracens burnt in large heaps, by the king of Castile, showed how\nlittle fuel sufficeth. Though the funeral pyre of Patroclus took up\nan hundred foot,[BB] a piece of an old boat burnt Pompey; and if the\nburthen of Isaac were sufficient for an holocaust, a man may carry his\nown pyre.\n\n[BB] \u201c\u1f19\u03ba\u03b1\u03c4\u03cc\u03bc\u03c0\u03b5\u03b4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f14\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1 \u1f22 \u1f14\u03bd\u03b8\u03b1.\u201d\n\nFrom animals are drawn good burning lights, and good medicines against\nburning. Though the seminal humour seems of a contrary nature to fire,\nyet the body completed proves a combustible lump, wherein fire finds\nflame even from bones, and some fuel almost from all parts; though the\nmetropolis of humidity[BC] seems least disposed unto it, which might\nrender the skulls of these urns less burned than other bones. But\nall flies or sinks before fire almost in all bodies: when the common\nligament is dissolved, the attenuable parts ascend, the rest subside in\ncoal, calx, or ashes.\n\n[BC] The Brain. _Hippocrates_.\n\nTo burn the bones of the king of Edom for lime,[BD] seems no irrational\nferity; but to drink of the ashes of dead relations,[BE] a passionate\nprodigality. He that hath the ashes of his friend, hath an everlasting\ntreasure; where fire taketh leave, corruption slowly enters. In\nbones well burnt, fire makes a wall against itself; experimented in\nCopels,[105] and tests of metals, which consist of such ingredients.\nWhat the sun compoundeth, fire analyzeth, not transmuteth. That\ndevouring agent leaves almost always a morsel for the earth, whereof\nall things are but a colony; and which, if time permits, the mother\nelement will have in their primitive mass again.\n\n[BD] Amos ii. 1.\n\n[BE] As Artemisia of her husband Mausolus.\n\nHe that looks for urns and old sepulchral relicks, must not seek them\nin the ruins of temples, where no religion anciently placed them. These\nwere found in a field, according to ancient custom, in noble or private\nburial; the old practice of the Canaanites, the family of Abraham, and\nthe burying-place of Joshua, in the borders of his possessions; and\nalso agreeable unto Roman practice to bury by highways, whereby their\nmonuments were under eye:--memorials of themselves, and mementoes of\nmortality unto living passengers; whom the epitaphs of great ones were\nfain to beg to stay and look upon them,--a language though sometimes\nused, not so proper in church inscriptions.[BF] The sensible rhetorick\nof the dead, to exemplarity of good life, first admitted to the bones\nof pious men and martyrs within church walls, which in succeeding ages\ncrept into promiscuous practice: while Constantine was peculiarly\nfavoured to be admitted into the church porch, and the first thus\nburied in England, was in the days of Cuthred.\n\n[BF] Siste, viator.\n\nChristians dispute how their bodies should lie in the grave. In urnal\ninterment they clearly escaped this controversy. Though we decline the\nreligious consideration, yet in cemeterial and narrower burying-places,\nto avoid confusion and cross-position, a certain posture were to be\nadmitted: which even Pagan civility observed. The Persians lay north\nand south; the Megarians and Ph\u0153nicians placed their heads to the east;\nthe Athenians, some think, towards the west, which Christians still\nretain. And Beda will have it to be the posture of our Saviour. That\nhe was crucified with his face toward the west, we will not contend\nwith tradition and probable account; but we applaud not the hand of\nthe painter, in exalting his cross so high above those on either side:\nsince hereof we find no authentic account in history, and even the\ncrosses found by Helena, pretend no such distinction from longitude or\ndimension.\n\nTo be knav\u2019d out of our graves, to have our skulls made drinking-bowls,\nand our bones turned into pipes, to delight and sport our enemies, are\ntragical abominations escaped in burning burials.\n\nUrnal interments and burnt relicks lie not in fear of worms, or to\nbe an heritage for serpents. In carnal sepulture, corruptions seem\npeculiar unto parts; and some speak of snakes out of the spinal marrow.\nBut while we suppose common worms in graves, \u2019tis not easy to find\nany there; few in churchyards above a foot deep, fewer or none in\nchurches though in fresh-decayed bodies. Teeth, bones, and hair, give\nthe most lasting defiance to corruption. In an hydropical body, ten\nyears buried in the churchyard, we met with a fat concretion, where\nthe nitre of the earth, and the salt and lixivious liquor of the body,\nhad coagulated large lumps of fat into the consistence of the hardest\nCastile soap, whereof part remaineth with us.[106] After a battle\nwith the Persians, the Roman corpses decayed in few days, while the\nPersian bodies remained dry and uncorrupted. Bodies in the same ground\ndo not uniformly dissolve, nor bones equally moulder; whereof in the\nopprobrious disease, we expect no long duration. The body of the\nMarquis of Dorset[BG] seemed sound and handsomely cereclothed, that\nafter seventy-eight years was found uncorrupted. Common tombs preserve\nnot beyond powder: a firmer consistence and compage of parts might\nbe expected from arefaction, deep burial, or charcoal. The greatest\nantiquities of mortal bodies may remain in putrefied bones, whereof,\nthough we take not in the pillar of Lot\u2019s wife, or metamorphosis of\nOrtelius, some may be older than pyramids, in the putrefied relicks\nof the general inundation. When Alexander opened the tomb of Cyrus,\nthe remaining bones discovered his proportion, whereof urnal fragments\nafford but a bad conjecture, and have this disadvantage of grave\ninterments, that they leave us ignorant of most personal discoveries.\nFor since bones afford not only rectitude and stability but figure\nunto the body, it is no impossible physiognomy to conjecture at fleshy\nappendencies, and after what shape the muscles and carnous parts might\nhang in their full consistencies. A full-spread _cariola_ shows a\nwell-shaped horse behind; handsome formed skulls give some analogy of\nfleshy resemblance. A critical view of bones makes a good distinction\nof sexes. Even colour is not beyond conjecture, since it is hard to be\ndeceived in the distinction of the Negroes\u2019 skulls.[107] Dante\u2019s[BH]\ncharacters are to be found in skulls as well as faces. Hercules is not\nonly known by his foot. Other parts make out their comproportions and\ninferences upon whole or parts. And since the dimensions of the head\nmeasure the whole body, and the figure thereof gives conjecture of the\nprincipal faculties: physiognomy outlives ourselves, and ends not in\nour graves.\n\n[BG] Who was buried in 1530, and dug up in 1608, and found perfect like\nan ordinary corpse newly interred.\n\n[BH] Purgat. xxiii. 31.\n\nSevere contemplators, observing these lasting relicks, may think them\ngood monuments of persons past, little advantage to future beings;\nand, considering that power which subdueth all things unto itself,\nthat can resume the scattered atoms, or identify out of anything,\nconceive it superfluous to expect a resurrection out of relicks: but\nthe soul subsisting, other matter, clothed with due accidents, may\nsalve the individuality. Yet the saints, we observe, arose from graves\nand monuments about the holy city. Some think the ancient patriarchs\nso earnestly desired to lay their bones in Canaan, as hoping to make a\npart of that resurrection; and, though thirty miles from Mount Calvary,\nat least to lie in that region which should produce the first-fruits\nof the dead. And if, according to learned conjecture, the bodies of\nmen shall rise where their greatest relicks remain, many are not like\nto err in the topography of their resurrection, though their bones\nor bodies be after translated by angels into the field of Ezekiel\u2019s\nvision, or as some will order it, into the valley of judgment, or\nJehosaphat.\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nCHRISTIANS have handsomely glossed the deformity of death by\ncareful consideration of the body, and civil rites which take off\nbrutal terminations: and though they conceived all reparable by a\nresurrection, cast not off all care of interment. And since the ashes\nof sacrifices burnt upon the altar of God were carefully carried out\nby the priests, and deposed in a clean field; since they acknowledged\ntheir bodies to be the lodging of Christ, and temples of the Holy\nGhost, they devolved not all upon the sufficiency of soul-existence;\nand therefore with long services and full solemnities, concluded their\nlast exequies, wherein to all distinctions the Greek devotion seems\nmost pathetically ceremonious.\n\nChristian invention hath chiefly driven at rites, which speak hopes of\nanother life, and hints of a resurrection. And if the ancient Gentiles\nheld not the immortality of their better part, and some subsistence\nafter death, in several rites, customs, actions, and expressions, they\ncontradicted their own opinions: wherein Democritus went high, even to\nthe thought of a resurrection, as scoffingly recorded by Pliny.[BI]\nWhat can be more express than the expression of Phocylides?[BJ] Or who\nwould expect from Lucretius[BK] a sentence of Ecclesiastes? Before\nPlato could speak, the soul had wings in Homer, which fell not, but\nflew out of the body into the mansions of the dead; who also observed\nthat handsome distinction of Demas and Soma, for the body conjoined\nto the soul, and body separated from it. Lucian spoke much truth\nin jest, when he said that part of Hercules which proceeded from\nAlcmena perished, that from Jupiter remained immortal. Thus Socrates\nwas content that his friends should bury his body, so they would not\nthink they buried Socrates; and, regarding only his immortal part, was\nindifferent to be burnt or buried. From such considerations, Diogenes\nmight contemn sepulture, and, being satisfied that the soul could not\nperish, grow careless of corporal interment. The Stoicks, who thought\nthe souls of wise men had their habitation about the moon, might make\nslight account of subterraneous deposition; whereas the Pythagoreans\nand transcorporating philosophers, who were to be often buried, held\ngreat care of their interment. And the Platonicks rejected not a\ndue care of the grave, though they put their ashes to unreasonable\nexpectations, in their tedious term of return and long set revolution.\n\n[BI] \u201c_Similis **** reviviscendi promissa Democrito vanitas, qui\nnon revixit ipse. Qu\u00e6 (malum) ista dementia est iterari vitam\nmorte?_\u201d--Plin. l. vii. c. 55.\n\n[BJ] \u201c\u039a\u03b1\u1f76 \u03c4\u03ac\u03c7\u03b1 \u03b4\u1fbd\u1f10\u03ba \u03b3\u03b1\u03af\u03b7\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03c0\u03af\u03b6\u03bf\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd \u1f10\u03c2 \u03c6\u03ac\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f10\u03bb\u03b8\u03b5\u1fd6\u03bd \u03bb\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c8\u03b1\u03bd \u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03c7\u03bf\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd.\u201d\n\n[BK] \u201cCedit item retro de terra quod fuit ante in terras.\u201d--_Luc._,\nlib. ii. 998.\n\nMen have lost their reason in nothing so much as their religion,\nwherein stones and clouts make martyrs; and, since the religion of\none seems madness unto another, to afford an account or rational\nof old rites requires no rigid reader. That they kindled the pyre\naversely, or turning their face from it, was an handsome symbol of\nunwilling ministration. That they washed their bones with wine and\nmilk; that the mother wrapped them in linen, and dried them in her\nbosom, the first fostering part and place of their nourishment; that\nthey opened their eyes toward heaven before they kindled the fire, as\nthe place of their hopes or original, were no improper ceremonies.\nTheir last valediction,[BL] thrice uttered by the attendants, was\nalso very solemn, and somewhat answered by Christians, who thought\nit too little, if they threw not the earth thrice upon the interred\nbody. That, in strewing their tombs, the Romans affected the rose; the\nGreeks amaranthus and myrtle: that the funeral pyre consisted of sweet\nfuel, cypress, fir, larix, yew, and trees perpetually verdant, lay\nsilent expressions of their surviving hopes. Wherein Christians, who\ndeck their coffins with bays, have found a more elegant emblem; for\nthat it, seeming dead, will restore itself from the root, and its dry\nand exsuccous leaves resume their verdure again; which, if we mistake\nnot, we have also observed in furze. Whether the planting of yew in\nchurchyards hold not its original from ancient funeral rites, or as\nan emblem of resurrection, from its perpetual verdure, may also admit\nconjecture.\n\n[BL] \u201cVale, vale, nos te ordine quo natura permittet sequamur.\u201d\n\nThey made use of musick to excite or quiet the affections of their\nfriends, according to different harmonies. But the secret and\nsymbolical hint was the harmonical nature of the soul; which, delivered\nfrom the body, went again to enjoy the primitive harmony of heaven,\nfrom whence it first descended; which, according to its progress traced\nby antiquity, came down by Cancer, and ascended by Capricornus.\n\nThey burnt not children before their teeth appeared, as apprehending\ntheir bodies too tender a morsel for fire, and that their gristly bones\nwould scarce leave separable relicks after the pyral combustion. That\nthey kindled not fire in their houses for some days after was a strict\nmemorial of the late afflicting fire. And mourning without hope, they\nhad an happy fraud against excessive lamentation, by a common opinion\nthat deep sorrows disturb their ghosts.[BM]\n\n[BM] \u201cTu manes ne l\u0153de meos.\u201d\n\nThat they buried their dead on their backs, or in a supine position,\nseems agreeable unto profound sleep, and common posture of dying;\ncontrary to the most natural way of birth; nor unlike our pendulous\nposture, in the doubtful state of the womb. Diogenes was singular, who\npreferred a prone situation in the grave; and some Christians[BN] like\nneither, who decline the figure of rest, and make choice of an erect\nposture.\n\n[BN] The Russians, &c.\n\nThat they carried them out of the world with their feet forward,\nnot inconsonant unto reason, as contrary unto the native posture of\nman, and his production first into it; and also agreeable unto their\nopinions, while they bid adieu unto the world, not to look again upon\nit; whereas Mahometans who think to return to a delightful life again,\nare carried forth with their heads forward, and looking toward their\nhouses.\n\nThey closed their eyes, as parts which first die, or first discover the\nsad effects of death. But their iterated clamations to excitate their\ndying or dead friends, or revoke them unto life again, was a vanity of\naffection; as not presumably ignorant of the critical tests of death,\nby apposition of feathers, glasses, and reflection of figures, which\ndead eyes represent not: which, however not strictly verifiable in\nfresh and warm _cadavers_, could hardly elude the test, in corpses of\nfour or five days.\n\nThat they sucked in the last breath of their expiring friends, was\nsurely a practice of no medical institution, but a loose opinion that\nthe soul passed out that way, and a fondness of affection, from some\nPythagorical foundation, that the spirit of one body passed into\nanother, which they wished might be their own.\n\nThat they poured oil upon the pyre, was a tolerable practice, while\nthe intention rested in facilitating the ascension. But to place good\nomens in the quick and speedy burning, to sacrifice unto the winds for\na despatch in this office, was a low form of superstition.\n\nThe archimime, or jester, attending the funeral train, and imitating\nthe speeches, gesture, and manners of the deceased, was too light for\nsuch solemnities, contradicting their funeral orations and doleful\nrites of the grave.\n\nThat they buried a piece of money with them as a fee of the Elysian\nferryman, was a practice full of folly. But the ancient custom of\nplacing coins in considerable urns, and the present practice of\nburying medals in the noble foundations of Europe, are laudable ways\nof historical discoveries, in actions, persons, chronologies; and\nposterity will applaud them.\n\nWe examine not the old laws of sepulture, exempting certain persons\nfrom burial or burning. But hereby we apprehend that these were not\nthe bones of persons planet-struck or burnt with fire from heaven; no\nrelicks of traitors to their country, self-killers, or sacrilegious\nmalefactors; persons in old apprehension unworthy of the earth;\ncondemned unto the Tartarus of hell, and bottomless pit of Pluto, from\nwhence there was no redemption.\n\nNor were only many customs questionable in order to their obsequies,\nbut also sundry practices, fictions, and conceptions, discordant or\nobscure, of their state and future beings. Whether unto eight or ten\nbodies of men to add one of a woman, as being more inflammable and\nunctuously constituted for the better pyral combustion, were any\nrational practice; or whether the complaint of Periander\u2019s wife be\ntolerable, that wanting her funeral burning, she suffered intolerable\ncold in hell, according to the constitution of the infernal house of\nPluto, wherein cold makes a great part of their tortures; it cannot\npass without some question.\n\nWhy the female ghosts appear unto Ulysses, before the heroes and\nmasculine spirits,--why the Psyche or soul of Tiresias is of the\nmasculine gender, who, being blind on earth, sees more than all the\nrest in hell; why the funeral suppers consisted of eggs, beans,\nsmallage, and lettuce, since the dead are made to eat asphodels about\nthe Elysian meadows:--why, since there is no sacrifice acceptable, nor\nany propitiation for the covenant of the grave, men set up the deity of\nMorta, and fruitlessly adored divinities without ears, it cannot escape\nsome doubt.\n\nThe dead seem all alive in the human Hades of Homer, yet cannot well\nspeak, prophecy, or know the living, except they drink blood, wherein\nis the life of man. And therefore the souls of Penelope\u2019s paramours,\nconducted by Mercury, chirped like bats, and those which followed\nHercules, made a noise but like a flock of birds.\n\nThe departed spirits know things past and to come; yet are ignorant of\nthings present. Agamemnon foretells what should happen unto Ulysses;\nyet ignorantly inquires what is become of his own son. The ghosts are\nafraid of swords in Homer; yet Sibylla tells \u00c6neas in Virgil, the thin\nhabit of spirits was beyond the force of weapons. The spirits put off\ntheir malice with their bodies, and C\u00e6sar and Pompey accord in Latin\nhell; yet Ajax, in Homer, endures not a conference with Ulysses; and\nDeiphobus appears all mangled in Virgil\u2019s ghosts, yet we meet with\nperfect shadows among the wounded ghosts of Homer.\n\nSince Charon in Lucian applauds his condition among the dead, whether\nit be handsomely said of Achilles, that living contemner of death, that\nhe had rather be a ploughman\u2019s servant, than emperor of the dead? How\nHercules his soul is in hell, and yet in heaven; and Julius his soul in\na star, yet seen by \u00c6neas in hell?--except the ghosts were but images\nand shadows of the soul, received in higher mansions, according to the\nancient division of body, soul, and image, or _simulachrum_ of them\nboth. The particulars of future beings must needs be dark unto ancient\ntheories, which Christian philosophy yet determines but in a cloud of\nopinions. A dialogue between two infants in the womb concerning the\nstate of this world, might handsomely illustrate our ignorance of the\nnext, whereof methinks we yet discourse in Pluto\u2019s den, and are but\nembryo philosophers.\n\nPythagoras escapes in the fabulous hell of Dante,[BO] among that swarm\nof philosophers, wherein, whilst we meet with Plato and Socrates, Cato\nis to be found in no lower place than purgatory. Among all the set,\nEpicurus is most considerable, whom men make honest without an Elysium,\nwho contemned life without encouragement of immortality, and making\nnothing after death, yet made nothing of the king of terrors.\n\n[BO] _Del Inferno_, cant. 4.\n\nWere the happiness of the next world as closely apprehended as the\nfelicities of this, it were a martyrdom to live; and unto such as\nconsider none hereafter, it must be more than death to die, which makes\nus amazed at those audacities that durst be nothing and return into\ntheir chaos again. Certainly such spirits as could contemn death, when\nthey expected no better being after, would have scorned to live, had\nthey known any. And therefore we applaud not the judgment of Machiavel,\nthat Christianity makes men cowards, or that with the confidence of\nbut half-dying, the despised virtues of patience and humility have\nabased the spirits of men, which Pagan principles exalted; but rather\nregulated the wildness of audacities in the attempts, grounds, and\neternal sequels of death; wherein men of the boldest spirits are often\nprodigiously temerarious. Nor can we extenuate the valour of ancient\nmartyrs, who contemned death in the uncomfortable scene of their lives,\nand in their decrepit martyrdoms did probably lose not many months of\ntheir days, or parted with life when it was scarce worth the living.\nFor (beside that long time past holds no consideration unto a slender\ntime to come) they had no small disadvantage from the constitution\nof old age, which naturally makes men fearful, and complexionally\nsuperannuated from the bold and courageous thoughts of youth and\nfervent years. But the contempt of death from corporal animosity,\npromoteth not our felicity. They may sit in the orchestra, and noblest\nseats of heaven, who have held up shaking hands in the fire, and\nhumanly contended for glory.\n\nMeanwhile Epicurus lies deep in Dante\u2019s hell, wherein we meet with\ntombs enclosing souls which denied their immortalities. But whether\nthe virtuous heathen, who lived better than he spake, or erring in the\nprinciples of himself, yet lived above philosophers of more specious\nmaxims, lie so deep as he is placed, at least so low as not to rise\nagainst Christians, who believing or knowing that truth, have lastingly\ndenied it in their practice and conversation--were a query too sad to\ninsist on.\n\nBut all or most apprehensions rested in opinions of some future\nbeing, which, ignorantly or coldly believed, begat those perverted\nconceptions, ceremonies, sayings, which Christians pity or laugh at.\nHappy are they which live not in that disadvantage of time, when men\ncould say little for futurity, but from reason: whereby the noblest\nminds fell often upon doubtful deaths, and melancholy dissolutions.\nWith these hopes, Socrates warmed his doubtful spirits against that\ncold potion; and Cato, before he durst give the fatal stroke, spent\npart of the night in reading the Immortality of Plato, thereby\nconfirming his wavering hand unto the animosity of that attempt.\n\nIt is the heaviest stone that melancholy can throw at a man, to tell\nhim he is at the end of his nature; or that there is no further state\nto come, unto which this seems progressional, and otherwise made\nin vain. Without this accomplishment, the natural expectation and\ndesire of such a state, were but a fallacy in nature; unsatisfied\nconsiderators would quarrel the justice of their constitutions, and\nrest content that Adam had fallen lower; whereby, by knowing no other\noriginal, and deeper ignorance of themselves, they might have enjoyed\nthe happiness of inferior creatures, who in tranquillity possess their\nconstitutions, as having not the apprehension to deplore their own\nnatures, and, being framed below the circumference of these hopes,\nor cognition of better being, the wisdom of God hath necessitated\ntheir contentment: but the superior ingredient and obscured part\nof ourselves, whereto all present felicities afford no resting\ncontentment, will be able at last to tell us, we are more than our\npresent selves, and evacuate such hopes in the fruition of their own\naccomplishments.\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nNow since these dead bones have already outlasted the living ones of\nMethuselah, and in a yard underground, and thin walls of clay, outworn\nall the strong and specious buildings above it; and quietly rested\nunder the drums and tramplings of three conquests: what prince can\npromise such diuturnity unto his relicks, or might not gladly say,\n\n    _Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim?_[BP]\n\n[BP] _Tibullus_, lib. iii. el. 2, 26.\n\nTime, which antiquates antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all\nthings, hath yet spared these minor monuments.\n\nIn vain we hope to be known by open and visible conservatories, when\nto be unknown was the means of their continuation, and obscurity their\nprotection. If they died by violent hands, and were thrust into their\nurns, these bones become considerable, and some old philosophers would\nhonour them, whose souls they conceived most pure, which were thus\nsnatched from their bodies, and to retain a stronger propension unto\nthem; whereas they weariedly left a languishing corpse and with faint\ndesires of re-union. If they fell by long and aged decay, yet wrapt\nup in the bundle of time, they fall into indistinction, and make but\none blot with infants. If we begin to die when we live, and long life\nbe but a prolongation of death, our life is a sad composition; we\nlive with death, and die not in a moment. How many pulses made up the\nlife of Methuselah, were work for Archimedes: common counters sum up\nthe life of Moses his man. Our days become considerable, like petty\nsums, by minute accumulations: where numerous fractions make up but\nsmall round numbers; and our days of a span long, make not one little\nfinger.[BQ]\n\n[BQ] According to the ancient arithmetick of the hand, wherein\nthe little finger of the right hand contracted, signified an\nhundred.--_Pierius in Hieroglyph._\n\nIf the nearness of our last necessity brought a nearer conformity\ninto it, there were a happiness in hoary hairs, and no calamity in\nhalf-senses. But the long habit of living indisposeth us for dying;\nwhen avarice makes us the sport of death, when even David grew\npolitickly cruel, and Solomon could hardly be said to be the wisest of\nmen. But many are too early old, and before the date of age. Adversity\nstretcheth our days, misery makes Alcmena\u2019s nights,[BR] and time hath\nno wings unto it. But the most tedious being is that which can unwish\nitself, content to be nothing, or never to have been, which was beyond\nthe malcontent of Job, who cursed not the day of his life, but his\nnativity; content to have so far been, as to have a title to future\nbeing, although he had lived here but in an hidden state of life, and\nas it were an abortion.\n\n[BR] One night as long as three.\n\nWhat song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid\nhimself among women, though puzzling questions,[BS] are not beyond\nall conjecture. What time the persons of these ossuaries entered the\nfamous nations of the dead, and slept with princes and counsellors,\nmight admit a wide solution. But who were the proprietaries of\nthese bones, or what bodies these ashes made up, were a question\nabove antiquarism; not to be resolved by man, nor easily perhaps by\nspirits, except we consult the provincial guardians, or tutelary\nobservators. Had they made as good provision for their names, as they\nhave done for their relicks, they had not so grossly erred in the\nart of perpetuation. But to subsist in bones, and be but pyramidally\nextant, is a fallacy in duration. Vain ashes which in the oblivion\nof names, persons, times, and sexes, have found unto themselves a\nfruitless continuation, and only arise unto late posterity, as emblems\nof mortal vanities, antidotes against pride, vain-glory, and madding\nvices. Pagan vain-glories which thought the world might last for ever,\nhad encouragement for ambition; and, finding no _atropos_ unto the\nimmortality of their names, were never dampt with the necessity of\noblivion. Even old ambitions had the advantage of ours, in the attempts\nof their vain-glories, who acting early, and before the probable\nmeridian of time, have by this time found great accomplishment of\ntheir designs, whereby the ancient heroes have already outlasted their\nmonuments and mechanical preservations. But in this latter scene of\ntime, we cannot expect such mummies unto our memories, when ambition\nmay fear the prophecy of Elias,[BT] and Charles the Fifth can never\nhope to live within two Methuselahs of Hector.[BU]\n\n[BS] The puzzling questions of Tiberius unto grammarians.--_Marcel._\n_Donatus in Suet._\n\n[BT] That the world may last but six thousand years.\n\n[BU] Hector\u2019s fame outlasting above two lives of Methuselah before that\nfamous prince was extant.\n\nAnd therefore, restless inquietude for the diuturnity of our memories\nunto the present considerations seems a vanity almost out of date, and\nsuperannuated piece of folly. We cannot hope to live so long in our\nnames, as some have done in their persons. One face of Janus holds no\nproportion unto the other. \u2019Tis too late to be ambitious. The great\nmutations of the world are acted, or time may be too short for our\ndesigns. To extend our memories by monuments, whose death we daily\npray for, and whose duration we cannot hope, without injury to our\nexpectations in the advent of the last day, were a contradiction to\nour beliefs. We whose generations are ordained in this setting part of\ntime, are providentially taken off from such imaginations; and, being\nnecessitated to eye the remaining particle of futurity, are naturally\nconstituted unto thoughts of the next world, and cannot excusably\ndecline the consideration of that duration, which maketh pyramids\npillars of snow, and all that\u2019s past a moment.\n\nCircles and right lines limit and close all bodies, and the mortal\nright-lined circle[BV] must conclude and shut up all. There is no\nantidote against the opium of time, which temporally considereth all\nthings: our fathers find their graves in our short memories, and sadly\ntell us how we may be buried in our survivors. Gravestones tell truth\nscarce forty years. Generations pass while some trees stand, and old\nfamilies last not three oaks. To be read by bare inscriptions like\nmany in Gruter, to hope for eternity by enigmatical epithets or first\nletters of our names, to be studied by antiquaries, who we were, and\nhave new names given us like many of the mummies, are cold consolations\nunto the students of perpetuity, even by everlasting languages.\n\n[BV] The character of death.\n\nTo be content that times to come should only know there was such a\nman, not caring whether they knew more of him, was a frigid ambition\nin Cardan;[BW] disparaging his horoscopal inclination and judgment\nof himself. Who cares to subsist like Hippocrates\u2019s patients, or\nAchilles\u2019s horses in Homer, under naked nominations, without deserts\nand noble acts, which are the balsam of our memories, the _entelechia_\nand soul of our subsistences? To be nameless in worthy deeds, exceeds\nan infamous history. The Canaanitish woman lives more happily without a\nname, than Herodias with one. And who had not rather have been the good\nthief, than Pilate?\n\n[BW] \u201cCuperem notum esse quod sim non opto ut sciatur qualis sim.\u201d\n\nBut the iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth her poppy, and deals\nwith the memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity.\nWho can but pity the founder of the pyramids? Herostratus lives that\nburnt the temple of Diana, he is almost lost that built it. Time hath\nspared the epitaph of Adrian\u2019s horse, confounded that of himself. In\nvain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names,\nsince bad have equal durations, and Thersites is like to live as long\nas Agamemnon without the favour of the everlasting register. Who\nknows whether the best of men be known, or whether there be not more\nremarkable persons forgot, than any that stand remembered in the known\naccount of time? The first man had been as unknown as the last, and\nMethuselah\u2019s long life had been his only chronicle.\n\nOblivion is not to be hired. The greater part must be content to be as\nthough they had not been, to be found in the register of God, not in\nthe record of man. Twenty-seven names make up the first story and the\nrecorded names ever since contain not one living century. The number\nof the dead long exceedeth all that shall live. The night of time far\nsurpasseth the day, and who knows when was the equinox? Every hour\nadds unto that current arithmetick, which scarce stands one moment.\nAnd since death must be the _Lucina_ of life, and even Pagans[108]\ncould doubt, whether thus to live were to die; since our longest sun\nsets at right descensions, and makes but winter arches, and therefore\nit cannot be long before we lie down in darkness, and have our light\nin ashes; since the brother of death daily haunts us with dying\nmementoes, and time that grows old in itself, bids us hope no long\nduration;--diuturnity is a dream and folly of expectation.\n\nDarkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares\nwith memory a great part even of our living beings; we slightly\nremember our felicities, and the smartest strokes of affliction leave\nbut short smart upon us. Sense endureth no extremities, and sorrows\ndestroy us or themselves. To weep into stones are fables. Afflictions\ninduce callosities; miseries are slippery, or fall like snow upon\nus, which notwithstanding is no unhappy stupidity. To be ignorant of\nevils to come, and forgetful of evils past, is a merciful provision\nin nature, whereby we digest the mixture of our few and evil days,\nand, our delivered senses not relapsing into cutting remembrances, our\nsorrows are not kept raw by the edge of repetitions. A great part of\nantiquity contented their hopes of subsistency with a transmigration\nof their souls,--a good way to continue their memories, while having\nthe advantage of plural successions, they could not but act something\nremarkable in such variety of beings, and enjoying the fame of their\npassed selves, make accumulation of glory unto their last durations.\nOthers, rather than be lost in the uncomfortable night of nothing,\nwere content to recede into the common being, and make one particle of\nthe public soul of all things, which was no more than to return into\ntheir unknown and divine original again. Egyptian ingenuity was more\nunsatisfied, contriving their bodies in sweet consistences, to attend\nthe return of their souls. But all is vanity, feeding the wind, and\nfolly. Egyptian mummies, which Cambyses or time hath spared, avarice\nnow consumeth. Mummy is become merchandise, Mizraim, cures wounds, and\nPharaoh is sold for balsams.\n\nIn vain do individuals hope for immortality, or any patent from\noblivion, in preservations below the moon; men have been deceived even\nin their flatteries, above the sun, and studied conceits to perpetuate\ntheir names in heaven. The various cosmography of that part hath\nalready varied the names of contrived constellations; Nimrod is lost\nin Orion, and Osyris in the Dog-star. While we look for incorruption\nin the heavens, we find that they are but like the earth;--durable in\ntheir main bodies, alterable in their parts; whereof, beside comets and\nnew stars, perspectives begin to tell tales, and the spots that wander\nabout the sun, with Phaeton\u2019s favour, would make clear conviction.\n\nThere is nothing strictly immortal, but immortality. Whatever hath no\nbeginning, may be confident of no end;--all others have a dependent\nbeing and within the reach of destruction;--which is the peculiar of\nthat necessary essence that cannot destroy itself;--and the highest\nstrain of omnipotency, to be so powerfully constituted as not to\nsuffer even from the power of itself. But the sufficiency of Christian\nimmortality frustrates all earthly glory, and the quality of either\nstate after death, makes a folly of posthumous memory. God who can\nonly destroy our souls, and hath assured our resurrection, either\nof our bodies or names hath directly promised no duration. Wherein\nthere is so much of chance, that the boldest expectants have found\nunhappy frustration; and to hold long subsistence, seems but a scape\nin oblivion. But man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous\nin the grave, solemnizing nativities and deaths with equal lustre, nor\nomitting ceremonies of bravery in the infamy of his nature.\n\nLife is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible sun within us. A\nsmall fire sufficeth for life, great flames seemed too little after\ndeath, while men vainly affected precious pyres, and to burn like\nSardanapalus; but the wisdom of funeral laws found the folly of\nprodigal blazes and reduced undoing fires unto the rule of sober\nobsequies, wherein few could be so mean as not to provide wood, pitch,\na mourner, and an urn.\n\nFive languages[109] secured not the epitaph of Gordianus. The man of\nGod lives longer without a tomb than any by one, invisibly interred\nby angels, and adjudged to obscurity, though not without some marks\ndirecting human discovery. Enoch and Elias, without either tomb or\nburial, in an anomalous state of being, are the great examples of\nperpetuity, in their long and living memory, in strict account being\nstill on this side death, and having a late part yet to act upon this\nstage of earth. If in the decretory term of the world we shall not all\ndie but be changed, according to received translation, the last day\nwill make but few graves; at least quick resurrections will anticipate\nlasting sepultures. Some graves will be opened before they be quite\nclosed, and Lazarus be no wonder. When many that feared to die, shall\ngroan that they can die but once, the dismal state is the second and\nliving death, when life puts despair on the damned; when men shall wish\nthe coverings of mountains, not of monuments, and annihilations shall\nbe courted.\n\nWhile some have studied monuments, others have studiously declined\nthem, and some have been so vainly boisterous, that they durst not\nacknowledge their graves; wherein Alaricus seems most subtle, who\nhad a river turned to hide his bones at the bottom. Even Sylla, that\nthought himself safe in his urn, could not prevent revenging tongues,\nand stones thrown at his monument. Happy are they whom privacy makes\ninnocent, who deal so with men in this world, that they are not afraid\nto meet them in the next; who, when they die, make no commotion among\nthe dead, and are not touched with that poetical taunt of Isaiah.[BX]\n\n[BX] Isa. xiv. 16.\n\nPyramids, arches, obelisks, were but the irregularities of vain-glory,\nand wild enormities of ancient magnanimity. But the most magnanimous\nresolution rests in the Christian religion, which trampleth upon pride\nand sits on the neck of ambition, humbly pursuing that infallible\nperpetuity, unto which all others must diminish their diameters, and be\npoorly seen in angles of contingency.[BY]\n\n[BY] The least of angles.\n\nPious spirits who passed their days in raptures of futurity, made\nlittle more of this world, than the world that was before it, while\nthey lay obscure in the chaos of pre-ordination, and night of their\nfore-beings. And if any have been so happy as truly to understand\nChristian annihilation, ecstasies, exolution, liquefaction,\ntransformation, the kiss of the spouse, gustation of God, and\ningression into the divine shadow, they have already had an handsome\nanticipation of heaven; the glory of the world is surely over, and the\nearth in ashes unto them.\n\nTo subsist in lasting monuments, to live in their productions, to exist\nin their names and predicament of chimeras, was large satisfaction unto\nold expectations, and made one part of their Elysiums. But all this is\nnothing in the metaphysicks of true belief. To live indeed, is to be\nagain ourselves, which being not only an hope, but an evidence in noble\nbelievers, \u2019tis all one to lie in St Innocent\u2019s[BZ] church-yard as in\nthe sands of Egypt. Ready to be anything, in the ecstasy of being ever,\nand as content with six foot as the _moles_ of Adrianus.[CA]\n\n[BZ] In Paris, where bodies soon consume.\n\n[CA] A stately mausoleum or sepulchral pile, built by Adrianus in Rome,\nwhere now standeth the castle of St Angelo.\n\n    ----\u201c_Tab\u00e9sne cadavera solvat,\n    An rogus, haud refert._\u201d--LUCAN. viii. 809.\n\n\n\n\nA LETTER TO A FRIEND,\n\nUPON OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF HIS INTIMATE FRIEND.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER TO A FRIEND.\n\n\nGIVE me leave to wonder that news of this nature should have such heavy\nwings that you should hear so little concerning your dearest friend,\nand that I must make that unwilling repetition to tell you \u201c_ad portam\nrigidos calces extendit_,\u201d that he is dead and buried, and by this time\nno puny among the mighty nations of the dead; for though he left this\nworld not very many days past, yet every hour you know largely addeth\nunto that dark society; and considering the incessant mortality of\nmankind, you cannot conceive there dieth in the whole earth so few as a\nthousand an hour.\n\nAlthough at this distance you had no early account or particular of his\ndeath, yet your affection may cease to wonder that you had not some\nsecret sense or intimation thereof by dreams, thoughtful whisperings,\nmercurisms, airy nuncios or sympathetical insinuations, which many\nseem to have had at the death of their dearest friends: for since\nwe find in that famous story, that spirits themselves were fain to\ntell their fellows at a distance that the great Antonio was dead, we\nhave a sufficient excuse for our ignorance in such particulars, and\nmust rest content with the common road, and Appian way of knowledge\nby information. Though the uncertainty of the end of this world hath\nconfounded all human predictions; yet they who shall live to see the\nsun and moon darkened, and the stars to fall from heaven, will hardly\nbe deceived in the advent of the last day; and therefore strange\nit is, that the common fallacy of consumptive persons who feel not\nthemselves dying, and therefore still hope to live, should also reach\ntheir friends in perfect health and judgment;--that you should be so\nlittle acquainted with Plautus\u2019s sick complexion, or that almost an\nHippocratical face should not alarum you to higher fears, or rather\ndespair, of his continuation in such an emaciated state, wherein\nmedical predictions fail not, as sometimes in acute diseases, and\nwherein \u2019tis as dangerous to be sentenced by a physician as a judge.\n\nUpon my first visit I was bold to tell them who had not let fall all\nhopes of his recovery, that in my sad opinion he was not like to behold\na grasshopper,[110] much less to pluck another fig; and in no long time\nafter seemed to discover that odd mortal symptom in him not mentioned\nby Hippocrates, that is, to lose his own face, and look like some of\nhis near relations; for he maintained not his proper countenance, but\nlooked like his uncle, the lines of whose face lay deep and invisible\nin his healthful visage before: for as from our beginning we run\nthrough variety of looks, before we come to consistent and settled\nfaces; so before our end, by sick and languishing alterations, we put\non new visages: and in our retreat to earth, may fall upon such looks\nwhich from community of seminal originals were before latent in us.\n\nHe was fruitlessly put in hope of advantage by change of air, and\nimbibing the pure aerial nitre of these parts; and therefore, being\nso far spent, he quickly found Sardinia in Tivoli,[CB] and the\nmost healthful air of little effect, where death had set her broad\narrow;[CC] for he lived not unto the middle of May, and confirmed the\nobservation of Hippocrates of that mortal time of the year when the\nleaves of the fig-tree resemble a daw\u2019s claw. He is happily seated\nwho lives in places whose air, earth, and water, promote not the\ninfirmities of his weaker parts, or is early removed into regions that\ncorrect them. He that is tabidly[111] inclined, were unwise to pass his\ndays in Portugal: cholical persons will find little comfort in Austria\nor Vienna: he that is weak-legged must not be in love with Rome, nor\nan infirm head with Venice or Paris. Death hath not only particular\nstars in heaven, but malevolent places on earth, which single out\nour infirmities, and strike at our weaker parts; in which concern,\npassager and migrant birds have the great advantages, who are naturally\nconstituted for distant habitations, whom no seas nor places limit,\nbut in their appointed seasons will visit us from Greenland and Mount\nAtlas, and, as some think, even from the Antipodes.[CD]\n\n[CB] \u201cCum mors venerit, in medio Tibure Sardinia est.\u201d\n\n[CC] In the king\u2019s forests they set the figure of a broad arrow upon\ntrees that are to be cut down.\n\n[CD] _Bellonius de Avibus._\n\nThough we could not have his life, yet we missed not our desires in his\nsoft departure, which was scarce an expiration; and his end not unlike\nhis beginning, when the salient point scarce affords a sensible motion,\nand his departure so like unto sleep, that he scarce needed the civil\nceremony of closing his eyes; contrary unto the common way, wherein\ndeath draws up, sleep lets fall the eyelids. With what strife and pains\nwe came into the world we know not; but \u2019tis commonly no easy matter\nto get out of it: yet if it could be made out, that such who have easy\nnativities have commonly hard deaths, and contrarily; his departure was\nso easy, that we might justly suspect his birth was of another nature,\nand that some Juno sat cross-legged at his nativity.\n\nBesides his soft death, the incurable state of his disease might\nsomewhat extenuate your sorrow, who know that monsters but seldom\nhappen, miracles more rarely in physick.[CE] _Angelus Victorius_ gives\na serious account of a consumptive, hectical, phthisical woman, who\nwas suddenly cured by the intercession of Ignatius. We read not of any\nin Scripture who in this case applied unto our Saviour, though some\nmay be contained in that large expression, that he went about Galilee\nhealing all manner of sickness and all manner of diseases.[CF] Amulets,\nspells, sigils, and incantations, practised in other diseases, are\nseldom pretended in this; and we find no sigil in the Archidoxis of\nParacelsus to cure an extreme consumption or marasmus, which, if other\ndiseases fail, will put a period unto long livers, and at last makes\ndust of all. And therefore the Stoics could not but think that the\nfiery principle would wear out all the rest, and at last make an end of\nthe world, which notwithstanding without such a lingering period the\nCreator may effect at his pleasure: and to make an end of all things on\nearth, and our planetical system of the world, he need but put out the\nsun.\n\n[CE] \u201cMonstra contingunt in medicina.\u201d _Hippoc._--\u201cStrange and rare\nescapes there happen sometimes in physick.\u201d\n\n[CF] Matt. iv. 23.\n\nI was not so curious to entitle the stars unto any concern of his\ndeath, yet could not but take notice that he died when the moon was in\nmotion from the meridian; at which time an old Italian long ago would\npersuade me that the greatest part of men died: but herein I confess\nI could never satisfy my curiosity; although from the time of tides\nin places upon or near the sea, there may be considerable deductions;\nand Pliny[CG] hath an odd and remarkable passage concerning the death\nof men and animals upon the recess or ebb of the sea. However, certain\nit is, he died in the dead and deep part of the night, when Nox might\nbe most apprehensibly said to be the daughter of Chaos, the mother of\nsleep and death, according to old genealogy; and so went out of this\nworld about that hour when our blessed Saviour entered it, and about\nwhat time many conceive he will return again unto it. Cardan[112] hath\na peculiar and no hard observation from a man\u2019s hand to know whether he\nwas born in the day or night, which I confess holdeth in my own. And\nScaliger[113] to that purpose hath another from the tip of the ear:[CH]\nmost men are begotten in the night, animals in the day; but whether\nmore persons have been born in the night or day, were a curiosity\nundecidable, though more have perished by violent deaths in the day;\nyet in natural dissolutions both times may hold an indifferency, at\nleast but contingent inequality. The whole course of time runs out\nin the nativity and death of things; which whether they happen by\nsuccession or coincidence, are best computed by the natural, not\nartificial day.\n\n[CG] \u201cAristoteles nullum animal nisi \u00e6stu recedente expirare affirmat;\nobservatum id multum in Gallico Oceano et duntaxat in homine\ncompertum,\u201d lib. 2, cap. 101.\n\n[CH] \u201cAuris pars pendula lobus dicitur, non omnibus ea pars, est\nauribus; non enim iis qui noctu sunt, sed qui interdiu, maxima ex\nparte.\u201d--_Com. in Aristot. de Animal._ lib. 1.\n\n\nThat Charles the Fifth[114] was crowned upon the day of his nativity,\nit being in his own power so to order it, makes no singular\nanimadversion: but that he should also take King Francis[115] prisoner\nupon that day, was an unexpected coincidence, which made the same\nremarkable. Antipater, who had an anniversary feast every year upon\nhis birth-day, needed no astrological revolution to know what day he\nshould die on. When the fixed stars have made a revolution unto the\npoints from whence they first set out, some of the ancients thought\nthe world would have an end; which was a kind of dying upon the day of\nits nativity. Now the disease prevailing and swiftly advancing about\nthe time of his nativity, some were of opinion that he would leave\nthe world on the day he entered into it; but this being a lingering\ndisease, and creeping softly on, nothing critical was found or\nexpected, and he died not before fifteen days after. Nothing is more\ncommon with infants than to die on the day of their nativity, to behold\nthe worldly hours, and but the fractions thereof; and even to perish\nbefore their nativity in the hidden world of the womb, and before\ntheir good angel is conceived to undertake them. But in persons who\noutlive many years, and when there are no less than three hundred and\nsixty-five days to determine their lives in every year; that the first\nday should make the last, that the tail of the snake should return into\nits mouth precisely at that time, and they should wind up upon the day\nof their nativity, is indeed a remarkable coincidence, which, though\nastrology hath taken witty pains to salve, yet hath it been very wary\nin making predictions of it.[CI]\n\n[CI] According to the Egyptian hieroglyphic.\n\nIn this consumptive condition and remarkable extenuation, he came to\nbe almost half himself, and left a great part behind him, which he\ncarried not to the grave. And though that story of Duke John Ernestus\nMansfield[116][CJ] be not so easily swallowed, that at his death his\nheart was found not to be so big as a nut; yet if the bones of a good\nskeleton weigh little more than twenty pounds, his inwards and flesh\nremaining could make no bouffage,[117] but a light bit for the grave.\nI never more lively beheld the starved characters of Dante[CK] in any\nliving face; an _aruspex_ might have read a lecture upon him without\nexenteration, his flesh being so consumed, that he might, in a manner,\nhave discerned his bowels without opening of him; so that to be\ncarried, _sexta cervice_[CL] to the grave, was but a civil unnecessity;\nand the complements of the coffin might outweigh the subject of it.\n\n[CJ] Turkish history.\n\n[CK] In the poet Dante\u2019s description.\n\n[CL] i.e. \u201cby six persons.\u201d\n\n_Omnibonus Ferrarius_ in mortal dysenteries of children looks for a\nspot behind the ear; in consumptive diseases some eye the complexion of\nmoles; Cardan eagerly views the nails, some the lines of the hand, the\nthenar or muscle of the thumb; some are so curious as to observe the\ndepth of the throat-pit, how the proportion varieth of the small of the\nlegs unto the calf, or the compass of the neck unto the circumference\nof the head; but all these, with many more, were so drowned in a\nmortal visage, and last face of Hippocrates, that a weak physiognomist\nmight say at first eye, this was a face of earth, and that _Morta_[CM]\nhad set her hard seal upon his temples, easily perceiving what\n_caricatura_[CN] draughts death makes upon pined faces, and unto what\nan unknown degree a man may live backward.\n\n[CM] Morta, the deity of death or fate.\n\n[CN] When men\u2019s faces are drawn with resemblance to some other animals,\nthe Italians call it, to be drawn _in caricatura_.\n\nThough the beard be only made a distinction of sex, and sign of\nmasculine heat by _Ulmus_,[CO] yet the precocity and early growth\nthereof in him, was not to be liked in reference unto long life.\nLewis, that virtuous but unfortunate king of Hungary, who lost his\nlife at the battle of Mohacz,[118] was said to be born without a skin,\nto have bearded at fifteen, and to have shown some grey hairs about\ntwenty; from whence the diviners conjectured that he would be spoiled\nof his kingdom, and have but a short life; but hairs make fallible\npredictions, and many temples early grey have outlived the psalmist\u2019s\nperiod.[CP] Hairs which have most amused me have not been in the face\nor head, but on the back, and not in men but children, as I long ago\nobserved in that endemial distemper of children in Languedoc, called\nthe _morgellons_,[CQ] wherein they critically break out with harsh\nhairs on their backs, which takes off the unquiet symptoms of the\ndisease, and delivers them from coughs and convulsions.\n\n[CO] _Ulmus de usu barb\u00e6 human\u00e6._\n\n[CP] The life of man is threescore and ten.\n\n[CQ] See _Picotus de Rheumatismo_.\n\nThe Egyptian mummies that I have seen, have had their mouths open, and\nsomewhat gaping, which affordeth a good opportunity to view and observe\ntheir teeth, wherein \u2019tis not easy to find any wanting or decayed; and\ntherefore in Egypt, where one man practised but one operation, or the\ndiseases but of single parts, it must needs be a barren profession to\nconfine unto that of drawing of teeth, and to have been little better\nthan tooth-drawer unto King Pyrrhus,[CR] who had but two in his head.\n\n[CR] His upper jaw being solid, and without distinct rows of teeth.\n\nHow the banyans of India maintain the integrity of those parts, I find\nnot particularly observed; who notwithstanding have an advantage of\ntheir preservation by abstaining from all flesh, and employing their\nteeth in such food unto which they may seem at first framed, from their\nfigure and conformation; but sharp and corroding rheums had so early\nmouldered these rocks and hardest parts of his fabric, that a man might\nwell conceive that his years were never like to double or twice tell\nover his teeth.[CS] Corruption had dealt more severely with them than\nsepulchral fires and smart flames with those of burnt bodies of old;\nfor in the burnt fragments of urns which I have inquired into, although\nI seem to find few incisors or shearers, yet the dog teeth and grinders\ndo notably resist those fires.\n\n[CS] Twice tell over his teeth, never live to threescore years.\n\nIn the years of his childhood he had languished under the disease of\nhis country, the rickets; after which, notwithstanding many have become\nstrong and active men; but whether any have attained unto very great\nyears, the disease is scarce so old as to afford good observation.\nWhether the children of the English plantations be subject unto the\nsame infirmity, may be worth the observing. Whether lameness and\nhalting do still increase among the inhabitants of Rovigno in Istria,\nI know not; yet scarce twenty years ago Monsieur du Loyr observed\nthat a third part of that people halted; but too certain it is, that\nthe rickets increaseth among us; the small-pox grows more pernicious\nthan the great; the king\u2019s purse knows that the king\u2019s evil grows more\ncommon. Quartan agues are become no strangers in Ireland; more common\nand mortal in England; and though the ancients gave that disease[CT]\nvery good words, yet now that bell[CU] makes no strange sound which\nrings out for the effects thereof.\n\n[CT] \u0391\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03bb\u03ad\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1fe5\u03ae\u03ca\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2, securissima et facillima.--_Hippoc._\n\n[CU] Pro febre quartana raro sonat campana.\n\nSome think there were few consumptions in the old world, when men lived\nmuch upon milk; and that the ancient inhabitants of this island were\nless troubled with coughs when they went naked and slept in caves and\nwoods, than men now in chambers and feather-beds. Plato will tell us,\nthat there was no such disease as a catarrh in Homer\u2019s time, and that\nit was but new in Greece in his age. Polydore Virgil delivereth that\npleurisies were rare in England, who lived but in the days of Henry the\nEighth. Some will allow no diseases to be new, others think that many\nold ones are ceased: and that such which are esteemed new, will have\nbut their time: however, the mercy of God hath scattered the great heap\nof diseases, and not loaded any one country with all: some may be new\nin one country which have been old in another. New discoveries of the\nearth discover new diseases: for besides the common swarm, there are\nendemial and local infirmities proper unto certain regions, which in\nthe whole earth make no small number: and if Asia, Africa, and America,\nshould bring in their list, Pandora\u2019s box would swell, and there must\nbe a strange pathology.\n\nMost men expected to find a consumed kell,[119] empty and bladder-like\nguts, livid and marbled lungs, and a withered pericardium in this\nexsuccous corpse: but some seemed too much to wonder that two lobes of\nhis lungs adhered unto his side; for the like I have often found in\nbodies of no suspected consumptions or difficulty of respiration. And\nthe same more often happeneth in men than other animals: and some think\nin women than in men: but the most remarkable I have met with, was in a\nman, after a cough of almost fifty years, in whom all the lobes adhered\nunto the pleura, and each lobe unto another; who having also been much\ntroubled with the gout, brake the rule of Cardan,[CV] and died of the\nstone in the bladder. Aristotle makes a query, why some animals cough,\nas man; some not, as oxen. If coughing be taken as it consisteth of\na natural and voluntary motion, including expectoration and spitting\nout, it may be as proper unto man as bleeding at the nose; otherwise we\nfind that Vegetius and rural writers have not left so many medicines\nin vain against the coughs of cattle; and men who perish by coughs die\nthe death of sheep, cats, and lions: and though birds have no midriff,\nyet we meet with divers remedies in Arrianus against the coughs of\nhawks. And though it might be thought that all animals who have lungs\ndo cough; yet in cataceous fishes, who have large and strong lungs,\nthe same is not observed; nor yet in oviparous quadrupeds: and in the\ngreatest thereof, the crocodile, although we read much of their tears,\nwe find nothing of that motion.\n\n[CV] Cardan in his _Encomium Podagrae_ reckoneth this among the _Dona\nPodagr\u00e6_, that they are delivered thereby from the phthisis and stone\nin the bladder.\n\nFrom the thoughts of sleep, when the soul was conceived nearest unto\ndivinity, the ancients erected an art of divination, wherein while\nthey too widely expatiated in loose and in consequent conjectures,\nHippocrates[CW] wisely considered dreams as they presaged alterations\nin the body, and so afforded hints toward the preservation of health,\nand prevention of diseases; and therein was so serious as to advise\nalteration of diet, exercise, sweating, bathing, and vomiting; and also\nso religious as to order prayers and supplications unto respective\ndeities, in good dreams unto Sol, Jupiter c\u0153lestis, Jupiter opulentus,\nMinerva, Mercurius, and Apollo; in bad, unto Tellus and the heroes.\n\n[CW] Hippoc, _de Insomniis_\n\nAnd therefore I could not but notice how his female friends were\nirrationally curious so strictly to examine his dreams, and in this\nlow state to hope for the phantasms of health. He was now past the\nhealthful dreams of the sun, moon, and stars, in their clarity and\nproper courses. \u2019Twas too late to dream of flying, of limpid fountains,\nsmooth waters, white vestments, and fruitful green trees, which are the\nvisions of healthful sleeps, and at good distance from the grave.\n\nAnd they were also too deeply dejected that he should dream of his dead\nfriends, inconsequently divining, that he would not be long from them;\nfor strange it was not that he should sometimes dream of the dead,\nwhose thoughts run always upon death; beside, to dream of the dead,\nso they appear not in dark habits, and take nothing away from us, in\nHippocrates\u2019 sense was of good signification: for we live by the dead,\nand everything is or must be so before it becomes our nourishment. And\nCardan, who dreamed that he discoursed with his dead father in the\nmoon, made thereof no mortal interpretation; and even to dream that we\nare dead, was having a signification of liberty, vacuity from cares,\nexemption and freedom from troubles unknown unto the dead.\n\nSome dreams I confess may admit of easy and feminine exposition; he who\ndreamed that he could not see his right shoulder, might easily fear\nto lose the sight of his right eye; he that before a journey dreamed\nthat his feet were cut off, had a plain warning not to undertake his\nintended journey. But why to dream of lettuce should presage some\nensuing disease, why to eat figs should signify foolish talk, why to\neat eggs great trouble, and to dream of blindness should be so highly\ncommended, according to the oneirocritical verses of Astrampsychus and\nNicephorus, I shall leave unto your divination.\n\nHe was willing to quit the world alone and altogether, leaving no\nearnest behind him for corruption or after-grave, having small content\nin that common satisfaction to survive or live in another, but amply\nsatisfied that his disease should die with himself, nor revive in a\nposterity to puzzle physic, and make sad mementoes of their parent\nhereditary. Leprosy awakes not sometimes before forty, the gout and\nstone often later; but consumptive and tabid[CX] roots sprout more\nearly, and at the fairest make seventeen years of our life doubtful\nbefore that age. They that enter the world with original diseases as\nwell as sin, have not only common mortality but sick traductions to\ndestroy them, make commonly short courses, and live not at length\nbut in figures; so that a sound C\u00e6sarean nativity[CY] may outlast a\nnatural birth, and a knife may sometimes make way for a more lasting\nfruit than a midwife; which makes so few infants now able to endure the\nold test of the river,[CZ] and many to have feeble children who could\nscarce have been married at Sparta, and those provident states who\nstudied strong and healthful generations; which happen but contingently\nin mere pecuniary matches or marriages made by the candle, wherein\nnotwithstanding there is little redress to be hoped from an astrologer\nor a lawyer, and a good discerning physician were like to prove the\nmost successful counsellor.\n\n[CX] Tabes maxime contingunt ab anno decimo octavo and trigesi mum\nquintum.--_Hippoc._\n\n[CY] A sound child cut out of the body of the mother.\n\n[CZ] Natos ad flumina primum deferimus s\u00e6voque gelu dura mus et undis.\n\nJulius Scaliger, who in a sleepless fit of the gout could make two\nhundred verses in a night, would have but five[DA] plain words upon his\ntomb. And this serious person, though no minor wit, left the poetry of\nhis epitaph unto others; either unwilling to commend himself, or to be\njudged by a distich, and perhaps considering how unhappy great poets\nhave been in versifying their own epitaphs; wherein Petrarch, Dante,\nand Ariosto, have so unhappily failed, that if their tombs should\noutlast their works, posterity would find so little of Apollo on them\nas to mistake them for Ciceronian poets.\n\n[DA] Julii C\u00e6saris Scaligeri quod fuit.--_Joseph. Scaliger in vita\npatris._\n\nIn this deliberate and creeping progress unto the grave, he was\nsomewhat too young and of too noble a mind, to fall upon that stupid\nsymptom observable in divers persons near their journey\u2019s end, and\nwhich may be reckoned among the mortal symptoms of their last disease;\nthat is, to become more narrow-minded, miserable, and tenacious,\nunready to part with anything, when they are ready to part with\nall, and afraid to want when they have no time to spend; meanwhile\nphysicians, who know that many are mad but in a single depraved\nimagination, and one prevalent decipiency; and that beside and out of\nsuch single deliriums a man may meet with sober actions and good sense\nin bedlam; cannot but smile to see the heirs and concerned relations\ngratulating themselves on the sober departure of their friends; and\nthough they behold such mad covetous passages, content to think they\ndie in good understanding, and in their sober senses.\n\nAvarice, which is not only infidelity, but idolatry, either from\ncovetous progeny or questuary[120] education, had no root in his\nbreast, who made good works the expression of his faith, and was big\nwith desires unto public and lasting charities; and surely where\ngood wishes and charitable intentions exceed abilities, theorical\nbeneficency may be more than a dream. They build not castles in the\nair who would build churches on earth; and though they leave no such\nstructures here, may lay good foundations in heaven. In brief, his\nlife and death were such, that I could not blame them who wished the\nlike, and almost to have been himself; almost, I say; for though we\nmay wish the prosperous appurtenances of others, or to be another in\nhis happy accidents, yet so intrinsical is every man unto himself,\nthat some doubt may be made, whether any would exchange his being, or\nsubstantially become another man.\n\nHe had wisely seen the world at home and abroad, and thereby observed\nunder what variety men are deluded in the pursuit of that which is not\nhere to be found. And although he had no opinion of reputed felicities\nbelow, and apprehended men widely out in the estimate of such\nhappiness, yet his sober contempt of the world wrought no Democratism\nor Cynicism, no laughing or snarling at it, as well understanding\nthere are not felicities in this world to satisfy a serious mind; and\ntherefore, to soften the stream of our lives, we are fain to take in\nthe reputed contentations of this world, to unite with the crowd in\ntheir beatitudes, and to make ourselves happy by consortion, opinion,\nand co-existimation; for strictly to separate from received and\ncustomary felicities, and to confine unto the rigour of realities,\nwere to contract the consolation of our beings unto too uncomfortable\ncircumscriptions.\n\nNot to fear death,[DB] nor desire it, was short of his resolution: to\nbe dissolved, and be with Christ, was his dying ditty. He conceived\nhis thread long, in no long course of years, and when he had scarce\noutlived the second life of Lazarus;[DC] esteeming it enough to\napproach the years of his Saviour, who so ordered his own human state,\nas not to be old upon earth.\n\n[DB] Summum nec metuas diem nec optes.\n\n[DC] Who upon some accounts, and tradition, is said to have lived\nthirty years after he was raised by our Saviour.--_Baronius._\n\nBut to be content with death may be better than to desire it; a\nmiserable life may make us wish for death, but a virtuous one to rest\nin it; which is the advantage of those resolved Christians, who looking\non death not only as the sting, but the period and end of sin, the\nhorizon and isthmus between this life and a better, and the death of\nthis world but as a nativity of another, do contentedly submit unto the\ncommon necessity, and envy not Enoch or Elias.\n\nNot to be content with life is the unsatisfactory state of those who\ndestroy themselves,[DD] who being afraid to live run blindly upon\ntheir own death, which no man fears by experience: and the Stoics had\na notable doctrine to take away the fear thereof; that is, in such\nextremities, to desire that which is not to be avoided, and wish what\nmight be feared; and so made evils voluntary, and to suit with their\nown desires, which took off the terror of them.\n\n[DD] In the speech of Vulteius in Lucan, animating his soldiers in a\ngreat struggle to kill one another.--\u201cDecernite letum, et metus omnis\nabest, cupias quodcumque necesse est.\u201d \u201cAll fear is over, do but\nresolve to die, and make your desires meet necessity.\u201d--_Phars._ iv.\n486.\n\nBut the ancient martyrs were not encouraged by such fallacies; who,\nthough they feared not death, were afraid to be their own executioners;\nand therefore thought it more wisdom to crucify their lusts than their\nbodies, to circumcise than stab their hearts, and to mortify than kill\nthemselves.\n\nHis willingness to leave this world about that age, when most men think\nthey may best enjoy it, though paradoxical unto worldly ears, was\nnot strange unto mine, who have so often observed, that many, though\nold, oft stick fast unto the world, and seem to be drawn like Cacus\u2019s\noxen[121], backward, with great struggling and reluctancy unto the\ngrave. The long habit of living makes mere men more hardly to part with\nlife, and all to be nothing, but what is to come. To live at the rate\nof the old world, when some could scarce remember themselves young,\nmay afford no better digested death than a more moderate period. Many\nwould have thought it an happiness to have had their lot of life in\nsome notable conjunctures of ages past; but the uncertainty of future\ntimes have tempted few to make a part in ages to come. And surely, he\nthat hath taken the true altitude of things, and rightly calculated the\ndegenerate state of this age, is not like to envy those that shall live\nin the next, much less three or four hundred years hence, when no man\ncan comfortably imagine what face this world will carry: and therefore\nsince every age makes a step unto the end of all things, and the\nScripture affords so hard a character of the last times; quiet minds\nwill be content with their generations, and rather bless ages past,\nthan be ambitious of those to come.\n\nThough age had set no seal upon his face, yet a dim eye might clearly\ndiscover fifty in his actions; and therefore, since wisdom is the grey\nhair, and an unspotted life old age; although his years come short,\nhe might have been said to have held up with longer livers, and to\nhave been Solomon\u2019s[DE] old man. And surely if we deduct all those\ndays of our life which we might wish unlived, and which abate the\ncomfort of those we now live; if we reckon up only those days which\nGod hath accepted of our lives, a life of good years will hardly be a\nspan long: the son in this sense may outlive the father, and none be\nclimacterically old. He that early arriveth unto the parts and prudence\nof age, is happily old without the uncomfortable attendants of it; and\n\u2019tis superfluous to live unto grey hairs, when in precocious temper we\nanticipate the virtues of them. In brief, he cannot be accounted young\nwho outliveth the old man. He that hath early arrived unto the measure\nof a perfect stature in Christ, hath already fulfilled the prime and\nlongest intention of his being; and one day lived after the perfect\nrule of piety, is to be preferred before sinning immortality.\n\n[DE] Wisdom, cap. iv.\n\nAlthough he attained not unto the years of his predecessors, yet he\nwanted not those preserving virtues which confirm the thread of weaker\nconstitutions. _Cautelous_ chastity and _crafty_ sobriety were far from\nhim; those jewels were _paragon_, without flaw, hair, ice, or cloud in\nhim; which affords me a hint to proceed in these good wishes, and few\nmementoes unto you.\n\nTread softly and circumspectly in this funambulous[122] track and\nnarrow path of goodness; pursue virtue virtuously, be sober and\ntemperate, not to preserve your body in a sufficiency for wanton ends,\nnot to spare your purse, not to be free from the infamy of common\ntransgressors that way, and thereby to balance or palliate obscure\nand closer vices, nor simply to enjoy health, by all of which you\nmay leaven good actions, and render virtues disputable, but, in one\nword, that you may truly serve God, which every sickness will tell you\nyou cannot well do without health. The sick man\u2019s sacrifice is but a\nlame oblation. Pious treasures, laid up in healthful days, excuse the\ndefect of sick non-performance; without which we must needs look back\nwith anxiety upon the last opportunities of health; and may have cause\nrather to envy than pity the ends of penitent malefactors, who go with\nclear parts unto the last act of their lives, and in the integrity of\ntheir faculties return their spirit unto God that gave it.\n\nConsider whereabouts thou art in Cebe\u2019s[123] table, or that old\nphilosophical pinax[124] of the life of man; whether thou art still in\nthe road of uncertainties; whether thou hast yet entered the narrow\ngate, got up the hill and asperous way which leadeth unto the house\nof sanity; or taken that purifying potion from the hand of sincere\nerudition, which may send thee clear and pure away unto a virtuous and\nhappy life.\n\nIn this virtuous voyage let no disappointment cause despondency,\nnor difficulty despair. Think not that you are sailing from Lima to\nManilla,[DF] [125] wherein thou mayest tie up the rudder, and sleep\nbefore the wind, but expect rough seas, flaws and contrary blasts; and\n\u2019tis well if by many cross tacks and veerings thou arrivest at the\nport. Sit not down in the popular seats and common level of virtues,\nbut endeavour to make them heroical. Offer not only peace-offerings but\nholocausts unto God. To serve him singly to serve ourselves were too\npartial a piece of piety, not like to place us in the highest mansions\nof glory.\n\n[DF] Through the Pacifick Sea with a constant gale from the east.\n\nHe that is chaste and continent not to impair his strength or\nterrified by contagion will hardly be heroically virtuous. Adjourn\nnot that virtue until those years when Cato could lend out his wife,\nand impotent satyrs write satires against lust, but be chaste in thy\nflaming days when Alexander dared not trust his eyes upon the fair\nsisters of Darius, and when so many think that there is no other way\nbut Origen\u2019s.[DG]\n\n[DG] Who is said to have castrated himself.\n\nBe charitable before wealth make thee covetous, and lose not the glory\nof the mitre. If riches increase, let thy mind hold pace with them, and\nthink it is not enough to be liberal but munificent. Though a cup of\ncold water from some hand may not be without its reward, yet stick not\nthou for wine and oil for the wounds of the distressed, and treat the\npoor as our Saviour did the multitude to the reliques of some baskets.\n\nTrust not unto the omnipotency of gold, or say not unto it, thou art\nmy confidence. Kiss not thy hand when thou beholdest that terrestrial\nsun, nor bore thy ear unto its servitude. A slave unto Mammon makes\nno servant unto God. Covetousness cracks the sinews of faith, numbs\nthe apprehension of anything above sense; and only affected with the\ncertainty of things present, makes a peradventure of things to come;\nlives but unto one world, nor hopes but fears another: makes their own\ndeath sweet unto others, bitter unto themselves, brings formal sadness,\nscenical mourning, and no wet eyes at the grave.\n\nIf avarice be thy vice, yet make it not thy punishment. Miserable men\ncommiserate not themselves, bowelless unto themselves, and merciless\nunto their own bowels. Let the fruition of things bless the possession\nof them, and take no satisfaction in dying but living rich. For since\nthy good works, not thy goods will follow thee; since riches are an\nappurtenance of life, and no dead man is rich, to famish in plenty, and\nlive poorly to die rich, were a multiplying improvement in madness and\nuse upon use in folly.\n\nPersons lightly dipt, not grained, in generous honesty are but pale in\ngoodness and faint-hued in sincerity. But be thou what thou virtuously\nart, and let not the ocean wash away thy tincture. Stand majestically\nupon that axis where prudent simplicity hath fixed thee; and at no\ntemptation invert the poles of thy honesty that vice may be uneasy and\neven monstrous unto thee; let iterated good acts and long confirmed\nhabits make virtue natural or a second nature in thee; and since few or\nnone prove eminently virtuous but from some advantageous foundations\nin their temper and natural inclinations, study thyself betimes, and\nearly find what nature bids thee to be or tells thee what thou mayest\nbe. They who thus timely descend into themselves, cultivating the good\nseeds which nature hath set in them, and improving their prevalent\ninclinations to perfection, become not shrubs but cedars in their\ngeneration. And to be in the form of the best of bad, or the worst of\nthe good, will be no satisfaction unto them.\n\nLet not the law of thy country be the _non ultra_ of thy honesty, nor\nthink that always good enough that the law will make good. Narrow not\nthe law of charity, equity, mercy. Join gospel righteousness with legal\nright. Be not a mere Gamaliel in the faith, but let the Sermon on the\nMount be thy Targum unto the law of Sinai.\n\nMake not the consequences of virtue the ends thereof. Be not beneficent\nfor a name or cymbal of applause; nor exact and punctual in commerce\nfor the advantages of trust and credit, which attend the reputation of\njust and true dealing: for such rewards, though unsought for, plain\nvirtue will bring with her, whom all men honour, though they pursue\nnot. To have other by-ends in good actions sours laudable performances,\nwhich must have deeper roots, motives, and instigations, to give them\nthe stamp of virtues.\n\nThough human infirmity may betray thy heedless days into the popular\nways of extravagancy, yet, let not thine own depravity or the torrent\nof vicious times carry thee into desperate enormities in opinions,\nmanners, or actions. If thou hast dipped thy foot in the river, yet\nventure not over Rubicon; run not into extremities from whence there\nis no regression, nor be ever so closely shut up within the holds\nof vice and iniquity, as not to find some escape by a postern of\nrecipiscency.[126]\n\nOwe not thy humility unto humiliation by adversity, but look humbly\ndown in that state when others look upward upon thee. Be patient in the\nage of pride, and days of will, and impatiency, when men live but by\nintervals of reason, under the sovereignty of humour and passion, when\nit is in the power of every one to transform thee out of thyself, and\nput thee into short madness.[DH] If you cannot imitate Job, yet come\nnot short of Socrates, and those patient Pagans, who tired the tongues\nof their enemies, while they perceived they spit their malice at brazen\nwalls and statues.\n\n[DH] Ir\u00e6 furor brevis est.\n\nLet age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks; be content to be\nenvied, but envy not. Emulation may be plausible, and indignation\nallowable, but admit no treaty with that passion which no circumstance\ncan make good. A displacency at the good of others, because they enjoy\nit although we do not want it, is an absurd depravity sticking fast\nunto nature, from its primitive corruption, which he that can well\nsubdue were a Christian of the first magnitude, and for ought I know\nmay have one foot already in heaven.\n\nWhile thou so hotly disclaimest the devil, be not guilty of Diabolism.\nFall not into one name with that unclean spirit, nor act his nature\nwhom thou so much abhorrest, that is, to accuse, calumniate, backbite,\nwhisper, detract, or sinistrously interpret others. Degenerous\ndepravities and narrow-minded vices! not only below St Paul\u2019s noble\nChristian, but Aristotle\u2019s true gentleman.[DI] Trust not with some\nthat the Epistle of St James is apocryphal, and so read with less fear\nthat stabbing truth that in company with this vice, \u201cthy religion is\nin vain.\u201d Moses broke the tables without breaking the law, but where\ncharity is broke the law itself is shattered, which cannot be whole\nwithout love that is \u201cthe fulfilling of it.\u201d Look humbly upon thy\nvirtues, and though thou art rich in some, yet think thyself poor\nand naked without that crowning grace which \u201cthinketh no evil, which\nenvieth not, which beareth, believeth, hopeth, endureth all things.\u201d\nWith these sure graces while busy tongues are crying out for a drop of\ncold water, mutes may be in happiness, and sing the \u201cTrisagium,\u201d[DJ] in\nheaven.\n\n[DI] See Aristotle\u2019s Ethics, chapter Magnanimity.\n\n[DJ] Holy, holy, holy.\n\nLet not the sun in Capricorn[DK] go down upon thy wrath, but write thy\nwrongs in water, draw the curtain of night upon injuries, shut them up\nin the tower of oblivion,[DL] and let them be as though they had not\nbeen. Forgive thine enemies totally, without any reserve of hope that\nhowever God will revenge thee.\n\n[DK] Even when the days are shortest.\n\n[DL] Alluding to the tower of oblivion, mentioned by Procopius, which\nwas the name of a tower of imprisonment among the Persians; whoever was\nput therein was as it were buried alive, and it was death for any but\nto name him.\n\nBe substantially great in thyself, and more than thou appearest unto\nothers; and let the world be deceived in thee, as they are in the\nlights of heaven. Hang early plummets upon the heels of pride, and\nlet ambition have but an epicycle[127] or narrow circuit in thee.\nMeasure not thyself by thy morning shadow, but by the extent of thy\ngrave; and reckon thyself above the earth, by the line thou must be\ncontented with under it. Spread not into boundless expansions either\nto designs or desires. Think not that mankind liveth but for a few;\nand that the rest are born but to serve the ambition of those who make\nbut flies of men, and wildernesses of whole nations. Swell not into\nvehement actions, which embroil and confound the earth, but be one of\nthose violent ones that force the kingdom of heaven.[DM] If thou must\nneeds rule, be Zeno\u2019s king, and enjoy that empire which every man gives\nhimself: certainly the iterated injunctions of Christ unto humility,\nmeekness, patience, and that despised train of virtues, cannot but\nmake pathetical impression upon those who have well considered the\naffairs of all ages; wherein pride, ambition, and vain-glory, have led\nup to the worst of actions, whereunto confusions, tragedies, and acts,\ndenying all religion, do owe their originals.\n\n[DM] St Matt. xi.\n\nRest not in an ovation,[DN] but a triumph over thy passions. Chain\nup the unruly legion of thy breast; behold thy trophies within thee,\nnot without thee. Lead thine own captivity captive, and be C\u00e6sar unto\nthyself.\n\n[DN] Ovation, a petty and minor kind of triumph.\n\nGive no quarter unto those vices that are of thine inward family, and,\nhaving a root in thy temper, plead a right and propriety in thee.\nExamine well thy complexional inclinations. Rain early batteries\nagainst those strongholds built upon the rock of nature, and make\nthis a great part of the militia of thy life. The politic nature of\nvice must be opposed by policy, and therefore wiser honesties project\nand plot against sin; wherein notwithstanding we are not to rest in\ngenerals, or the trite stratagems of art; that may succeed with one\ntemper, which may prove successless with another. There is no community\nor commonwealth of virtue, every man must study his own economy and\nerect these rules unto the figure of himself.\n\nLastly, if length of days be thy portion, make it not thy expectation.\nReckon not upon long life; but live always beyond thy account. He that\nso often surviveth his expectation lives many lives, and will scarce\ncomplain of the shortness of his days. Time past is gone like a shadow;\nmake times to come present; conceive that near which may be far off.\nApproximate thy latter times by present apprehensions of them: be like\na neighbour unto death, and think there is but little to come. And\nsince there is something in us that must still live on, join both lives\ntogether, unite them in thy thoughts and actions, and live in one but\nfor the other. He who thus ordereth the purposes of this life, will\nnever be far from the next, and is in some manner already in it, by a\nhappy conformity and close apprehension of it.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES TO THE RELIGIO MEDICI.\n\n\n1. It was a proverb, \u201cUbi tres medici duo athei.\u201d\n\n2. A Latinised word meaning a taunt (impropero.)\n\n3. The synod of Dort was held in 1619 to discuss the doctrines of\nArminius. It ended by condemning them.\n\n4. Hallam, commenting on this passage, says--\u201cThat Jesuit must be a\ndisgrace to his order who would have asked more than such a concession\nto secure a proselyte--the right of interpreting whatever was written,\nand of supplying whatever was not.\u201d--_Hist. England_, vol. ii. p. 74.\n\n5. See the statute of the Six Articles (31 Hen. VIII. c. 14), which\ndeclared that transubstantiation, communion in one kind, celibacy\nof the clergy, vows of widowhood, private masses, and auricular\nconfession, were part of the law of England.\n\n6. In the year 1606, when the Jesuits were expelled from Venice, Pope\nPaul V. threatened to excommunicate that republic. A most violent\nquarrel ensued, which was ultimately settled by the mediation of France.\n\n7. Alluding to the story of \u0152dipus solving the riddle proposed by the\nSphynx.\n\n8. The nymph Arethusa was changed by Diana into a fountain, and was\nsaid to have flowed under the sea from Elis to the fountain of Arethusa\nnear Syracuse.--Ov. _Met._ lib. v. fab. 8.\n\n9. These heretics denied the immortality of the soul, but held that it\nwas recalled to life with the body. Origen came from Egypt to confute\nthem, and is said to have succeeded. (See Mosh. _Eccl. Hist._, lib. i.\nc. 5. sec. 16.) Pope John XXII. afterwards adopted it.\n\n10. A division from the Greek \u03b4\u03b9\u03c7\u03bf\u03c4\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03b1.\n\n11. The brain.\n\n12. A faint resemblance, from the Latin _adumbro_, to shade.\n\n13. Alluding to the idea Sir T. Browne often expresses, that an oracle\nwas the utterance of the devil.\n\n14. To fathom, from Latin _profundus_.\n\n15. Beginning from the Latin _efficio_.\n\n16. Galen\u2019s great work.\n\n17. John de Monte Regio made a wooden eagle that, when the emperor was\nentering Nuremburg, flew to meet him, and hovered over his head. He\nalso made an iron fly that, when at dinner, he was able to make start\nfrom under his hand, and fly round the table.--See De Bartas, 6^{me}\njour 1^{me} semaine.\n\n18. Hidden, from the Greek \u03ba\u03c1\u03c5\u03c0\u03c4\u03c9.\n\n19. A military term for a small mine.\n\n20. The Armada.\n\n21. The practice of drawing lots.\n\n22. An account.\n\n23. See Il. VIII. 18--\n\n    \u201cLet down our golden everlasting chain,\n    Whose strong embrace holds heaven, and earth, and main.\u201d\n        --_Pope_, Il. viii. 26.\n\n24. An argument where one proposition is accumulated upon another, from\nthe Greek \u03c3\u03c9\u03c1\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2, a heap.\n\n25. Alluding to the second triumvirate--that of Augustus, Antony, and\nLepidus. Florus says of it, \u201cRespublica convulsa est lacerataque.\u201d\n\n26. Ochinus. He was first a monk, then a doctor, then a Capuchin friar,\nthen a Protestant: in 1547 he came to England, and was very active\nin the Reformation. He was afterwards made Canon of Canterbury. The\nSocinians claim him as one of their sect.\n\n27. The father of Pantagruel. His adventures are given in the first\nbook of Rabelais, Sir Bevys of Hampton, a metrical romance, relating\nthe adventures of Sir Bevys with the Saracens.--Wright and Halliwell\u2019s\n_Reliqui\u00e6 Antiqu\u00e6_, ii. 59.\n\n28. Contradictions between two laws.\n\n29. On his arrival at Paris, Pantagruel visited the library of St\nVictor: he states a list of the works he found there, among which was\n\u201cTartaretus.\u201d Pierre Tartaret was a French doctor who disputed with\nDuns Scotus. His works were republished at Lyons, 1621.\n\n30. Deucalion was king of Thessaly at the time of the deluge. He and\nhis wife Pyrrha, with the advice of the oracle of Themis, repeopled the\nearth by throwing behind them the bones of their grandmother,--_i.e._,\nstones of the earth.--See Ovid, _Met._ lib. i. fab. 7.\n\n31. St Augustine (De Civ. Dei, xvi. 7).\n\n32. \u03b1\u03c0\u03b7\u03b3\u03be\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf (St Matt. xxvii. 5) means death by choking. Erasmus\ntranslates it, \u201cabiens laqueo se suspendit.\u201d\n\n33. Burnt by order of the Caliph Omar, A.D. 640. It contained 700,000\nvolumes, which served the city for fuel instead of wood for six months.\n\n34. Enoch being informed by Adam the world was to be drowned and\nburnt, made two pillars, one of stone to withstand the water, and one\nof brick to withstand the fire, and inscribed upon them all known\nknowledge.--See Josephus, _Ant. Jud._\n\n35. A Franciscan friar, counsellor to the Inquisition, who visited the\nprincipal libraries in Spain to make a catalogue of the books opposed\nto the Romish religion. His \u201cindex novus librorum prohibitorum\u201d was\npublished at Seville in 1631.\n\n36. Printing, gunpowder, clocks.\n\n37. The Targums and the various Talmuds.\n\n38. Pagans, Mahometans, Jews, Christians.\n\n39. Valour, and death in battle.\n\n40. Held 1414-1418.\n\n41. Vergilius, bishop of Salzburg, having asserted the existence of\nAntipodes, the Archbishop of Metz declared him to be a heretic, and\ncaused him to be burnt.\n\n42. On searching on Mount Calvary for the true cross, the empress found\nthree. As she was uncertain which was the right one, she caused them to\nbe applied to the body of a dead man, and the one that restored him to\nlife was determined to be the true cross.\n\n43. The critical time in human life.\n\n44. Oracles were said to have ceased when Christ came, the reply to\nAugustus on the subject being the last--\n\n    \u201cMe puer Hebr\u00e6us divos Deus ipse gubernans\n    Cedere sede jubet tristemque redire sub Orcum\n    Aris ergo de hinc tacitus discedito nostris.\u201d\n\n45. An historian who wrote \u201cDe Rebus Indicis.\u201d He is cited by Pliny,\nStrabo, and Josephus.\n\n46. Alluding to the popular superstition that infant children were\ncarried off by fairies, and others left in their places.\n\n47. Who is said to have lived without meat, on the smell of a rose.\n\n48. \u201cEssenti\u00e6 rationalis immortalis.\u201d\n\n49. St Augustine, De Civ. Dei, lib. x., cc. 9, 19, 32.\n\n50. That which includes everything is opposed to nullity.\n\n51. An inversion of the parts of an antithesis.\n\n52. St Augustine--\u201cHomily on Genesis.\u201d\n\n53. Sir T. Browne wrote a dialogue between two twins in the womb\nrespecting the world into which they were going!\n\n54. Refinement.\n\n55. Constitution another form of temperament.\n\n56. The Jewish computation for fifty years.\n\n57. Saturn revolves once in thirty years.\n\n58. Christian IV., of Denmark, who reigned from 1588-1647.\n\n59. \u00c6son was the father of Jason. By bathing in a bath prepared for him\nby Med\u00e6a with some magic spells, he became young again. Ovid describes\nthe bath and its ingredients, _Met._, lib. vii. fab. 2.\n\n60. Alluding to the rabbinical tradition that the world would last for\n6000 years, attributed to Elias, and cited in the Talmud.\n\n61. Zeno was the founder of the Stoics.\n\n62. Referring to a passage in Suetonius, Vit. J. C\u00e6sar, sec\n87:--\u201cAspernatus tam lentum mortis genus subitam sibi celeremque\noptaverat.\u201d\n\n63. In holding\n\n          \u201cMors ultima p\u0153na est,\n    Nec metuenda viris.\u201d\n\n64. The period when the moon is in conjunction and obscured by the sun.\n\n65. One of the judges of hell.\n\n66. To select some great man for our ideal, and always to act as if he\nwas present with us. See Seneca, lib. i. Ep. 11.\n\n67. Sir T. Browne seems to have made various experiments in this\nsubject. D\u2019Israeli refers to it in his \u201cCuriosities of Literature.\u201d Dr\nPower, a friend of Sir T. Browne, with whom he corresponded, gives a\nreceipt for the process.\n\n68. The celebrated Greek philosopher who taught that the sun was a mass\nof heated stone, and various other astronomical doctrines. Some critics\nsay Anaxarchus is meant here.\n\n69. See Milton\u2019s \u201cParadise Lost,\u201d lib. I. 254--\n\n    \u201cThe mind is its own place, and in itself\n    Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.\u201d\n\nAnd also Lucretius--\n\n    \u201cHic Acherusia fit stultorum denique vita.\u201d--iii. 1023.\n\n70. Keck says here--\u201cSo did they all, as Lactantius has observed\nat large. Aristotle is said to have been guilty of great vanity in\nhis clothes, of incontinency, and of unfaithfulness to his master,\nAlexander II.\u201d\n\n71. Phalaris, king of Agrigentum, who, when Perillus made a brazen bull\nin which to kill criminals, placed him in it to try its effects.\n\n72. Their maxim was\n\n    \u201cNihil sciri siquis putat id quoque nescit,\n    An sciri possit quod se nil scire fatetur.\u201d\n\n73. Pope Alexander III., in his declaration to the Doge, said,--\u201cQue\nla mer vous soit soumise comme l\u2019epouse l\u2019est \u00e0 son epoux puisque vous\nin avez acquis l\u2019empire par la victorie.\u201d In commemoration of this the\nDoge and Senate went yearly to Lio, and throwing a ring into the water,\nclaimed the sea as their bride.\n\n74. Appolonius Thyaneus, who threw a large quantity of gold into the\nsea, saying, \u201cPessundo divitias ne pessundare ab illis.\u201d\n\n75. The technical term in fencing for a hit--\n\n    \u201cA sweet touch, a quick venew of wit.\u201d\n        _Love\u2019s Labour Lost_, act v. sc. 1.\n\n76. Strabo compared the configuration of the world, as then known, to a\ncloak or mantle (_chalmys_).\n\n77. Atomists or familists were a Puritanical sect who appeared about\n1575, founded by Henry Nicholas, a Dutchman. They considered that the\ndoctrine of revelation was an allegory, and believed that they had\nattained to spiritual perfection.--See Neal\u2019s Hist. of Puritans, i. 273.\n\n78. From the 126th psalm St Augustine contends that Solomon is damned.\nSee also Lyra in 2 Kings vii.\n\n79. From the Spanish \u201cDorado,\u201d a gilt head.\n\n80. Sir T. Browne treats of chiromancy, or the art of telling fortunes\nby means of lines in the hands, in his \u201cVulgar Errors,\u201d lib. v. cap. 23.\n\n81. Gypsies.\n\n82. S. Wilkin says that here this word means niggardly.\n\n83. In the dialogue, \u201cjudicium vocalium,\u201d the vowels are the judges,\nand \u03a3 complains that T has deprived him of many letters that ought to\nbegin with \u03a3.\n\n84. If Jovis or Jupitris.\n\n85. The celebrated Roman grammarian. A proverbial phrase for the\nviolation of grammar was \u201cBreaking Priscian\u2019s head.\u201d\n\n86. Livy says, Actius Nevius cut a whetstone through with a razor.\n\n87. A kind of lizard that was supposed to kill all it looked at--\n\n          \u201cWhose baneful eye\n    Wounds at a glance, so that the soundest dye.\u201d\n        --_De Bartas_, 6^{me} jour 1{me} sem.\n\n88. Epimenides (Titus x. 12)--\n\n \u201c\u039a\u03c1\u1fc6\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03c8\u03b5\u1fe6\u03c3\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03ba\u03b1\u03ba\u1f70 \u03b8\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03ac \u03b3\u03b1\u03c3\u03c4\u03ad\u03c1\u03b5\u03c2 \u03b1\u03c1\u03b3\u03b1\u1f76.\u201d\n\n89. Nero having heard a person say, \u201cWhen I am dead, let earth be\nmingled with fire,\u201d replied, \u201cYes, while I live.\u201d--Suetonius, _Vit.\nNero._\n\n90. Alluding to the story of the Italian, who, having been provoked by\na person he met, put a poniard to his heart, and threatened to kill him\nif he would not blaspheme God; and the stranger doing so, the Italian\nkilled him at once, that he might be damned, having no time to repent.\n\n91. A rapier or small sword.\n\n92. The battle here referred to was the one between Don John of Austria\nand the Turkish fleet, near Lepanto, in 1571. The battle of Lepanto\n(that is, the capture of the town by the Turks) did not take place till\n1678.\n\n93. Several authors say that Aristotle died of grief because he could\nnot find out the reason for the ebb and flow of the tide in Epirus.\n\n94. Who deny that there is such a thing as science.\n\n95. A motto on a ring or cup. In an old will, 1655, there is this\npassage: \u201cI give a cup of silver gilt to have this posy written in the\nmargin:--\n\n    \u201cWhen the drink is out, and the bottom you may see,\n    Remember your brother I. G.\u201d\n\n96. The opposition of a contrary quality, by which the quality it\nopposes becomes heightened.\n\n97. Adam as he was created and not born.\n\n98. Meaning a world, as Atlas supported the world on his shoulders.\n\n99. Merriment. Johnson says that this is the only place where the word\nis found.\n\n100. Said to be a cure for madness.\n\n101. Patched garments.\n\n102. A game. A kind of capping verses, in which, if any one repeated\nwhat had been said before, he paid a forfeit.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES TO HYDRIOTAPHIA.\n\n\n103. Just.\n\n104. Destruction.\n\n105. A chemical vessel made of earth, ashes, or burnt bones, and in\nwhich assay-masters try their metals. It suffers all baser ones when\nfused and mixed with lead to pass off, and retains only gold and silver.\n\n106. This substance known to French chemists by the name \u201cadipo-cire,\u201d\nwas first discovered by Sir Thomas Browne.\n\n107. From its thickness.\n\n108. Euripides.\n\n109. Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Egyptian, Arabic defaced by the Emperor\nLicinius.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES TO LETTER TO A FRIEND.\n\n\n110. Will not survive until next spring.\n\n111. Wasting.\n\n112. An eminent Italian Physician, lecturer in the University of Pavia,\ndied 1576. He was a most voluminous medical writer.\n\n113. An eminent doctor and scholar who passed his time at Venice and\nPadua studying and practising medicine, died 1568.\n\n114. Charles V. was born 24th February, 1500.\n\n115. Francis I. of France was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia,\n24th February, 1525.\n\n116. One of the greatest Protestant generals of the seventeenth\ncentury. He died at Zara, 1626.\n\n117. An inflation, or swelling, from the French bouff\u00e9e.\n\n118. August 20th, 1526. He was defeated by Solyman II., and suffocated\nin a brook, by a fall from his horse, during the retreat.\n\n119. The caul.\n\n120. Money-seeking.\n\n121. Cacus stole some of Hercules\u2019 oxen, and drew them into his cave\nbackward to prevent any traces being discovered. Ovid Fast, 1. 554.\n\n122. Narrow, like walking on a rope.\n\n123. A Greek philosophical writer. This \u03a0\u03b9\u03bd\u03b1\u03be is a representation of a\ntable where the whole human life with its dangers and temptations is\nsymbolically represented.\n\n124. Picture.\n\n125. The course taken by the Spanish Treasure ships. See Anson Voyages.\n\n126. A recommencement.\n\n                  \u201cDulcique senex vicinus Hymetto\n    Qui partem accept\u00e6 sava inter vincla cicut\u00e6\n    Accusatori nollet dare,\u201d--Juv. Sat. xiii. 185.\n\n127. A small revolution made by one planet in the orbit of another.\n\n\n\n\nBALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\n\nThe following errata have been corrected:\n\n  p. viii \"coffer of gold.\" changed to \"coffer of gold.\u201d\"\n  p. 31 \"Bevis.\" missing endnote anchor inserted and\n          following anchor renumbered\n  p. 32 \"Pantagruel's library,\" extraneous endnote anchor removed\n  p. 56 \"comtemplations.\" changed to \"contemplations.\"\n  p. 93 \"that si\" changed to \"that is\"\n  p. 117 \"Egyptains\" changed to \"Egyptians\"\n  p. 120 \"Egyptains\" changed to \"Egyptians\"\n  p. 148 \"aprehension\" changed to \"apprehension\"\n  p. 162 \"viii 809\" changed to \"viii. 809\"\n  p. 176 \"limped\" changed to \"limpid\"\n  p. 180 (note) \"Decernite lethum\" changed to \"Decernite letum\"\n  p. 180 (note) \"quodcunqne\" changed to \"quodcumque\"\n  p. 186 \"Socrates,\" extraneous endnote anchor removed\n  p. 187 \"all things.\u2019\" changed to \"all things.\u201d\"","title":"Religio Medici, Hydriotaphia, and the Letter to a Friend","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":59419}