Source: Michel Montaigne. The Essays of Michael Lord of Montaigne, 1580, 1597. Translated by John Florio, 1603. World's Classics edition. 3 volumes, Vol. 2. London:  Frowde, 1904. Before using any portion of this text in any theme, essay, research paper, thesis, or dissertation, please read the disclaimer.

Transcription conventions: Volume I page numbers in angle brackets refer to the edition cited as the source. Words or phrases singled out for indexing are marked by plus signs. In the index, numbers in parentheses indicate how many times the item appears. A slash followed by a small letter or a number indicates a footnote at the bottom of the page. Only notes of historical, philosophical, or literary interest to a general reader have been included. I have allowed Greek passages to stand as the scanner read them, in unintelligible strings of characters.

Archaic spellings: If you are puzzled by the spelling of a word, try these remedies.

• Replace u with v (giue = give) 
• Replace i with j (obiect = object) 
• Replace y with i (Englyshe = English)
• Remove the final e (Englyshe = English)

     THose which exercise themselves in controuling humane actions, finde no such let in any one part as to peece them together and bring them to one same lustre:  For they commonly contradict one another so strangely, as it seemeth impossible they should be parcels of one Warehouse. Young Marias is sometimes found to be the sonne of Mars, and other times the childe of Venus.  Pope Boniface the Eight is reported to have entred into his charge as a Fox, to have carried himselfe therein as a Lion, and to have died like a Dog.  And who would thinke it was Nero, that lively image of cruelty, who being required to sign (as the custome was) the sentence of a criminall offender that had beene condemned to die, that ever he should answer, 'Oh would to God I could never have written?  So neare was his heart grieved to doome a man to death.  The wo rld is so full of such examples that every man may store himselfe; and I wonder to see men of understanding trouble themselves with sorting these parcels:  Sithence (mee seemeth) irresolution is the most apparent and common
<Mont2-1> 

vice of our nature: as witnesseth that famous verse of Publius the Commedian:

 Malum consilium est, quod mutari non potest./1

The counsel is but bad,
Whose change may not be had.

deliberation is the beginning of all virtue, and constancie the end and perfection.  If by reason or discourse we should take a certaine way, we should then take the fairest: but no man hath thought on it.

Quod petiit, spernit, repetit quod nuper omisit
AEstuat, et vitae disconvenit ordine toto./1

He scornes that which he sought, seek's that he scorn'd of late,
He flowes, ebbes, disagrees in his lifes whole estate.

Ducimur ut nervis alienis mobile lignum./2

So are we drawne, as wood is shoved,
By others sinnewes each way moved.

      ----- nonne videmus
Quid sibi quisque relit nescire et quaerere semper,
Commuttare locum quasi onus deponere possit? /3

See we not, every man in his thoughts height
Knowes not what he would have, yet seekes he streight
To change place, as he could lay downe his weight?

Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali Pater ipse
Jupiter auctifero lustravit lumine terras./1

Such are mens mindes, as that great God of might
Surveies the earth with encrease bearing light.

resolute countenance, and gored bloud (a true testimony of her chaste vertue) she might appeare to be the lively patterne of another Lucrece, yet know I certainly that, both before that time and afterward, she had beene enjoyed of others upon easier composition.  And as the common saying is; Faire and soft, as squemish-honest as she seemes, although you misse of your intent, conclude not rashly an inviolable chastitie to be in your Mistresse; for a groome or a horse-keeper may finde an houre to thrive in; and a dog hath a day.  Antigonus having taken upon him to favour a souldier of his by reason of his vertue and valour, to have great care of him, and see whether they could recover him of a lingering and inward disease which had long tormented him, who being perfectly cured, he afterward perceiving him to be nothing so earnest and diligent in his affaires, demanded of him how he was so changed from himselfe, and become so cowardish: 'Your selfe,h good sir,' answered he, 'have made me so by ridding me of those infirmities which so did grieve me that I made no accompt of my life.  A souldier of Lucullus, having by his enemies beene robbed of all he had, to revenge himselfe undertooke a notable and desperat atempt upon them; and having recovered his losses, Lucullus conceived a very good opinion of him, and with the greatest shewes of assured trust and loving kindnesse be could bethinke himselfe, made especiall accompt of him, and in any dangerous enterprize seemed to trust and employ him only:

Verbis qum timido quoque possent addere mentem./1

With words, which to a coward might
Adde courage, had he any spright.

      ------ quantumvis rusticus ibit,
Ibit eo quo vis, qui zonam perdidit, inquit./1

None is, saith he, so clownish, but will-on,
Where you will have him, if his purse be gone

selfe it is because I looke diversly upon my selfe.  All contrarieties are found in her, according to some turne or removing, and in some fashion or other; shamefast, bashfull, insolent, chaste, luxurious, peevish, pratling, silent, fond, doting, labourious, nice, delicate, ingenious, slow, dull, froward, humorous, debonaire, wise, ignorant, false in words, true-speaking, both liberall, covetous, and prodigall. [characters] All these I perceive in some measure or other to bee in mee, according as I stirre or turne my selfe; And whosoever shall heedfully survey and consider himselfe, shall finde this volubility and discordance to be in himselfe, yea and in his very judgement.  I have nothing to say entirely, simply, and with soliditie of my selfe, without confusion, disorder, blending, mingling, and in one word, Distinguo is the most universall part of my logike.  Although I ever purpose to speak good of good, and rather to enterpret those things that will beare it, unto a good sense; yet is it that the strangenesse of our condition admitteth that we are often urged to doe well by vice it selfe, if well doing were not judged by the intention only.  Therefore may not a courageous act conclude a man to be valiant.  He that is so, when just occasion serveth, shall ever be so, and upon all occasions.  If it were an habitude of vertue, and not a sudden humour, it would make a man equally resolute at all assayes, in all accidents:  Such alone, as in company; such in a single combat, as in a set battel:  For, whatsoever some say, valour is all alike, and not one in the street or towne, and another in the campe or field.  As courageously should a man beare a sicknesse in his hed as a hurt in the field, and feare death no more at home in his house than abroad in an assault.  We should not then see one same man enter the breach, or charge his enemie with an assured and undouted fiercenesse, and afterward having escaped that, to vexe, to grive and torment himselfe like unto a seely woman, or faint- hearted milkesop for the losse of a sute, or death of a childe.  If one chance to be carelesly base-minded in his infancie, and constantly-resolute in 

povertie; if he be timorously-fearfull at sight of a barbers razor, and afterward stowtly-undismayed against his enemies swords: the action is commendable, but not the man.  Divers Grecians (saith Cicero) cannot endure to looke their enemy in the face, yet are they most constant in their sicknesses; whereas the Cimbrians and Celtiberians are meere contrary. Nihil enim potest esse aequabile, quod non a certa ratione proficiscatur:/1 'For nothing can beare it selfe even which proceedeth not from resolved reason.  There is no valor more extreme in his kinde than that of Alexander; yet it is but in species, nor every where sufficiently full and universall. As incomparable as it is, it hath his blemishes, which is the reason that in the idleest of suspitions he apprehendeth at the conspiracies of his followers against his life, we see him so earnestly to vex and trouble ^himselfe:  In search and pursuit of whereof he demeaneth himselfe with so vehement and indiscreet an injustice, and with such a demisse feare that even his naturall reason is thereby subverted.  Also the superstition wherewith he is so thoroughly tainted beareih some shew of pusilanimitie. And the unlimited excesse of the repentance he shewed for the murther of Clitus is also a witnesse of the inequalitie of his courage.  Our matters are but parcels hudled up and peeces patched together, and we endevour to acquire honour by false meanes and untrue tokens.   Vertue will not bee followed but by herselfe: and if at any time we borrow her maske, upon some other occasion she will as soone pull it from our face.  It is a lively hew and strong die, if the soule be once dyed with the same perfectly, and which will never fade or be gone, except it carry the skin away with it.  Therefore to judge a man, we must a long time follow, and very curiously marke his steps; whether constancie do wholy subsist and continue upon her owne foundation in him.  Cui vivendi via considerata atque provisa est./2 'Who hath forecast and considered the way of
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. ii. c. 27. 2 CIC.  Parad. v. 

life;' whether the variety of occurrences make him change his pace (I meane his way, for his pace may either be hastened or slowed) let him run on: such a one (as sayeth the imprease of our good Talbot) goeth before the wind.  It is no marvell (saith an old writer) that hazard hath such power over us, since wee live by hazard.  It is impossible for him to dispose of his particular actions, that bath not in grose directed his life unto one certaine end.  It is impossible for him to range all peeces in order, that hath not a plot or forme of the totall frame in his head.  What avayleth the provision of all sorts of colours unto one that knowes not what be is to draw?  No man makes any certaine designe of his life, and we deliberate of it but by parcels.  A skilfull archer ought first to know the marke he aimeth at, and then apply his hand, his bow, his string, his arrow and his motion accordingly.  Our counsels goe a stray because they are not rightly addressed, and have no fixed end.  No winde makes for him that hath no intended post to saile unto.  As for me, I allow not greatly of that judgement which some made of Sophocles, and to have concluded him sufficient in the managing of domesticall matters, against the accusation of his owne sonne, only by the sight of one of his tragedies.  Nor doe I commend the conjecture of the Parians sent to reforme the Milesians, as sufficient to the consequence they drew thence.  In visiting and surveying the ile, they marked the landes that were best husbanded, and observed the country houses that were, best governed.  And having registered the names of their owners, and afterward made an assembly of the Townesmen of the Citie, they named and instituted those owners as new Governours and Magistrates, judging and concluding, that being good husbands and carefull of their housebold affaires, they must consequently be so of publike matters.  We are all framed of flaps and patches and of so shapelesse and diverse a contexture that every peece and every moment playeth his part.  And there is as much difference found betweene us and our selves as there is betweene 

ourselves and other.  Magnam rem puta, unun hominem agere: 'Esteeme it a great matter to play but one man.       Since ambition may teach men both valor temperance, liberality, yea and justice: sith covetousnesse may settle in the minde of a Shop-prentise-boy, brought up in ease and idlenesse, a dreadlesse assurance to leave his home-bred ease, and forgoe his place of education, and in a small barke to yeeld himselfe unto the mercy of blustring waves, mercilesse windes and wrathfull Neptune; and that it also teacheth discretion and wisdome [Crusoe]; And that Venus [Mars/Venus] herself ministreth resolution and hardinesse unto tender youth as yet subject to the discipline of the rod, and teacheth the ruthlesse Souldier the soft and tenderly effeminate heart of women in their mothers laps:

Hac duce custodes furtim transgressa jacentes, Adjuvenem tenebris sola puella venit./1

The wench by stealeth her lodg'd guards having stript,
By this guide, sole, i'th darke, to' th yonker skipt;

THE world is nothing but variety and dissemblance.  Vices are all alike, inasmuch as they are all vices:  And so do haply the Stoikes meane it.  But though they are equally vices, they are not equall vices; and that hee who hath started a hundred steps beyond the limits

Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum,/l

On this side, or beyond the which
No man can hold a right true pitch

Nec vincet ratio, tantumdem ut peccet, idemque, Qui teneros caules alieni fregerit horti,
Et qui nocturnus divum sacra legerit./2

No reason can evict, as great or same sinne taints
Him that breakes in anothers Garden tender plants,
And him that steales by night things consecrate to Saints.

others, to whom the best is ever in vice, should say the like of knowledge to distinguish vices, without which, and that very exacet, both vertuous and wicked men remaine confounded and unknowen.  Now drunkennesse amongst others appeareth to me a grose and brutish vice.  The minde hath more part else where; and some vices there are which (if it may lawfully be spoken) have a kinde of I wot not what generosity in them.  Some there are that have learning, diligence, valour, prudence, wit, cunning, dexterity, and subtlety joyned with them; whereas this is meerely corporall and terrestriall. And the grosest and rudest nation that liveth amongst us at this day is only that which keepeth it in credit.  Other vices but alter and distract the understanding, whereas this utterly subverteth the same, and astonieth the body.

     ----- Cum vini vis penetravit,
Consequitur qravitas membrorum, praepediuntur
Crura vacillanti, tardescit lingua madet mens,
Nant oculi, clamor, singultus,jurgia gliscunt.1

When once the force of wine hath inly pierst,
Limbes-heavinesse is next, legs faine would goe,
But reeling cannot, tongue drawles, mindes disperst,
Eyes swimme, cries, hickups, brables grow.

      ------ tu sapientium
Curas, et arcanum jocoso
Consilium retegis Lyaeo./2
 

Thou (wine-cup) doest by wine reveale
The cares, which wise men would conceale
And close drifts, at a merry meale.

     Josephus reporteth that by making an Ambassador to tipple- square, whom his enemies had sent unto him, he wrested all his secrets out of him.  Neverthelesse Augustus having trusted Lucius Piso, that conquered Thrace, with the secretest affaires he had in hand, had never cause to be discontented with him; nor Tiberius with Cossus, to whom he imparted all his seriousest counsels, although we know them both to have so given themselves to drinking of wine that they were often faine to be carried from the Senat, and both were reputed notable drunkards.

      ------ Hesterno inflatum venas de more Lyaeo/1

Veines pufft up, as it used alway
By wine which was dranke yesterday.

      ------ Nec facilis victoria de madidis, et
Bloesis, atque mero titubantibus./2

Nor is the conquest easie of men sowst,
Lisping and reeling with wine they carowst.

Epaminondas), made him so dead-drunke that insensibly and without feeling he might prostitute his beauty as the body of a common hedge-harlot, to Mulettiers, Groomes and maany of the abject servants of his house.  And what a lady (whom I much honour and highly esteeme) told mee , protesting that neere Bourdeaux, towards Castres, where her house is, a widdow country-woman, reputed very chaste and honest, suspecting herselfe to be with childe, told her neighbours that had she a husband she should verily thinke she was with childe; but the occasion of this suspition increasing more and more, and perceiving herseIfe so big-bellied that she could no longer conceale it, she resolved to make the Parish-priest acquainted with it, whom she entreated to publish in the Church that whosover hee were that were guilty of the fact, and would avow it, she would freely forgive him, and if hee were so pleased, take him to her husband.  A certaine swaine or hyne-boy of hers, emboldened by this proclamation, declared how that having one holliday found her welltippled with wine, and so sound asleep by the chimnie side lying so fit and ready for him, without awaking her he had the full use of her body.  Whom she accepted for her husband, and both live together at this day.  It is assured that antiquitie hath not greatly described this vice.  The compositions of diverse Philosophers speake but sparingly of it.  Yea, and some of the Stoikes deeme it not amisse for man sometimes to take his liquor roundly, and drinke drunke, thereby to recreate his spirits.

Hoc quoque virtutum quondam certamine magnum
Socratem palmam promeruisse ferunt./1

They say, in this too, Socrates the wise,
And great in vertues combats, bare the prize.

Narratur et prisci Catonis
Saepe mero coluisse virtus./1

'Tis said, by use of wine repeated
Old Catoes vertue oft was heated.

a milder, a loose and freer taste.  To be a true drinker a man should not have so tender and squeamish a palat.  The Germans doe in a manner drinke equally of all sorts of wine with like pleasure.  Their end is rather to gulpe it downe freely than to tast it kindly.  And To say truth they have it better cheape.  Their voluptuousnesse is more plenteous and fuller.  Secondarily, to drinke after the French manner, as two droughts and moderately, is over much to restraine the favours of that God.  There is more time and constancie required thereunto.  Our forefathers were wont to spend whole nights in that exercise, yea often times they joyned whole long dayes unto them. And a man must proportion his ordinarie more large and firme.  I have in my dayes seene a principall Lord, a man of great employment and enterprises and famous for good success, who without straining himselfe and eating but an ordinary meales-meate, was wont to drinke little lesse than five pottles of wine, yet at his rising seemed to be nothing distempered, but rather, as we have found to our no small cost in managing our affaires, over- wise and considerate.  The pleasure of that whereof we would make account in the course of our life ought to be employed longer space.  It were necessary, as shop-boyes or labouring people, that we should refuse no occasion to drinke and continually to have this desire in our minde. It seemeth that wee daily shorten the use of this, and that in our houses (as I have seene in mine infancie) breakfasts, nunchions, and beavers should be more frequent and often used than now adayes they are.  And should wee thereby in any sort proceed towards amendment?  No verily.  But it may be that we have much more given our selves over unto paillardise and all manner of luxurie than our fathers were.  They are two occupations that enter-hinder one another in their vigor.  On the one side it hath empaired and weakned our stomacke, and on the other sobrietie serveth to make us more jolly-quaint, lusty, and wanton for the exercise of love matters.  It is a wonder to thinke on the strange tales I have heard my 

father report of the chastitie of his time.  He might well speake of it as he that was both by art and nature proper for the use and solace of ladies.  He spake little and well, few words, but to the purpose, and was ever wont to entermixe some ornament taken from vulgar bookes, and above all Spanish amongst his common speeches.  And of all Spanish authors, none was more familiar unto him than Marcus Aurelius./1  His demeanour and carriage was ever milde, meeke, gentle+, and, very modest, and above all grave and stately.  There is nothing he seemed to be more carefull of than of his honesty, and observe a kinde of decencie of his person, and orderly decorum in his habits, were it on foot or on horsebacke.  He was exceeding nice in performing his word or promise+.  And so strictly concscientious and obsequious in religion, that generally he seemed to incline toward superstition than the contrary.  Though he were but a little man, his courage and vigor was great.  He was of an upright and well proportioned stature, of a pleasing, cheerfull- Iooking countenance, of a swarthy hue, nimbly addicted, and exquisitely nimble unto all noble and gentleman-like exercises. I have seene some hollow staves of his filled with lead which hee wont to use and exercise his armes withall, the better to enable himselfe to pitch the barre, to throw the sledge, to cast the pole, and to @play at fence; and shoes with leaden soles, which he wore to ensure himselfe to leape, to vault, and to run.  I may without blushing say, that in memorie of himselfe, he hath left certaine petie miracles amongst us.  I have seene him when he was past threescore years of age mocke at all our sports, and out-countenance our youthfull pastimes with a heavy furr'd gowne about him to leap into his saddle.  To make the pommada round about a table upon his thumb, and seldome to ascend any staires without skipping three or four steps at once.  And concerning my discourse, hee was wont to say that in a whole province there was scarce any woman of qualitie that
-----
1 GUEVARA. 

had an ill name.  Hee would often report strange familiarities, namely of his owne, with very honest women, without any suspicion at all.  And protested very religiously that when he was married he was yet a pure virgine; yet had he long time followed the warres beyond the mountaines, and therein served long, whereof he hath left a Journall-booke of his owne collecting, wherein he hath particularly noted whatsoever happened day by day worthy the observation so long as he served, both for the publike and his particular use.  And he was well strucken in years when he tooke a wife.  For returning out of Italie in the yeare of our Lord one thousand five hundred eight and twenty, and being full three and thirty years old by the way hee chose himselfe a wife.  But come we to our drinking againe.  The incommodities of age wbich need some helpe and refreshing, might with some reason beget in me a desire or longing of this faculty, for it is in a man the last pleasure which the course of our years stealeth upon us.  Good fellowes say that naturall heat is first taken in our feet: that properly belongeth to infancie.  From thence it ascendeth unto the middle region, where it is setled and contitlueth a long time, and in mine opinion there produceth the only true and moving pleasures of this corporall life.  Other delight and sensualities in respect of that doe but sleepe.  In the end, like unto a vapour which by little and little exhaleth and mounteth aloft, it comes unto the throat and there makes her last bode.  Yet could I never conceive how any man may either encrease or prolong the pleasure of drinking beyond thirst, and in his imagination frame an artificial appetite, and against nature.  My stomacke could not well reach so farre: it is very much troubled to come to an end of that which it takes for his need.  My constitution is to make no accompt of drinking but to succeed meat, and therefore doe I ever make my last draught the greatest.  And forasmmuch as in age we have the roofe of our mouthes covered with rhume, or distempered, distated and altered through some other evill 

constitution, wine seemeth better unto us and of a quicker relish, according as our pores be either more or lesse open and washed.  At least I seldome relish the same very well, except it be the first drought I take.  Anacharsis wondered to see the Grecians drinke in greater glasses at the end of their meales than in the beginning.  It was (as I imagine) for the very same reason that the Germans doe it, who never begin to carouse but when they have well fed.  Plato forbiddeth children to drinke any wine before they be eighteene yeares of age, and to be drunke before they come to forty.  But to such as have once attained the age of fortie he is content to pardon them, if they chance to delight themselves with it, and alloweth them somwhat to blend the influence of Dionysius in their banquets, that good God, who bestoweth cheerfulnesse upon men, and youth unto aged men, who layeth and aswageteh the passions of the minde, even as yron is made flexible by the fire: and in his profitable lawes holds drinking-meetings or quaffing companies as necessary and commendable (alwaies provided there be a chiefe leader amongst them to containe and order them) drunkennesse being a good and certaine tryall of every mans nature; and therewithall proper to give aged men the courage to make merry in dancing and musicke; things alowable and profitable, and such as they dare not undertake being sober and settled: That wine is capable to supply the mind with temperance and the body with health.  Notwithstanding, these restrictions, partly borrowed of the Carthaginians, please him well.  Let those forbeare it that are going about any expedition of warre.  Let every magistrate and all judges abstain from it at what time they are to execute their charge, and to consult of publike affaires.  Let none bestow the day in drinking, as the time that is due unto more serious negotiations, nor the nights wherein a man intendeth to get children. It is reported that Stilpo the Philosopher, finding himselfe surcharged with age, did purposely hasten his end by drinking of with pure wine.  The like cause (though not wittingly) did 

also suffocate the vital forces, crazed through old age, of the Philosopher Arcesilaus.  But it is an old and pleasant question whether a wise mans mind were like to yeeld unto the force of wine.

Si munitae adhibet vim sapientia./1

If unresisted force it bends,
Gainst wisdome which it selfe defends.

Sudores itaque, et pallorem existere toto
Corpore, et infringi linguam, vocemque aboriri
Caligare, oculos, sonari aures, succidere artus,
Denique concidere ex animi terrore videmus./2

We see therefore, paleness and sweats oregrow
Our bodies, tongues doe falter, voyce doth breake,
Eyes dazle, eares buzze, joints doe shrinke below,
Lastly we swoune by hart-fright, terrours weake.

must cry out like a child:  Nature having purposed to reserve these light markes other aucthoritie unto herselfe, inexpuguable unto our reason, and to the Stoicke vertue: to teach him his mortalitie and our insipiditie. He waxeth pale for feare, be blusheth for shame, he groaneth feeling the cholike, if not with a desperate and lowd-roaring voice, yet with a low, smothered, and hoarse-sounding noise.

Humani a se nihil alienum putat,/1

He thinkes, that nothing strange be can
To him that longs to any man.

Sic fatur lachrymans, classigue immitit habemas./2

So said he weeping, and so saide,
Himselfe hand to the sterage laide.

Occupavi te, Fortuna, atqe cepi; omnesque aditus tuos interclusi, ut ad me amirare non posses:/3

'Fortune+, I have prevented, caught, and overtaken thee:
I have mured and ramd up all thy passages, whereby thou mightest attaine unto mee:

When Anaxarchus, by the appointment of Nicocreon, the tyrant of Cipres,
-----
1 TER.  Heaut. act i. sc. 1, 25. 2 VIRG.  Aen. 1. vi 1. 3 METR.  Cic. Tusc.  Qu. 1. v.

being laid along in a trough of stone, and smoten with yron sledges, ceaseth not to crie out, 'Streeke, smite and breake; it is not Anaxarchus, it is but his vaile you martyr so:' When we heare our martyrs in the middst of a flame crie aloud unto the Tyrant, 'This side is roasted enough, chop it, eat it, it is full roasted, now begin on the other:' When in Josephus wee heere a child all to rent with biting snippers, and pierced with the breath of Antiochus, to defie him to death, crie with a lowde-assured and undismaid voyce, 'Tyrant, thou losest time, loe I am still at mine ease; where is that smarting paine, where are those torments wherewith whilom thou didst so threaten me?  My constancie doth more trouble thee than I have feeling of thy crueltie:  Oh faint hearted varlet, doest thou yeeld when I gather strength?  Make mee to faint or shrinke, cause me to moane or lament, force me to yeeld and sue for grace if thou canst; encourage thy satallities, harden thy executioners; loe how they droope and have no more power; arme them, strengthen them, flesh them.  Verely we must needs confesse there is some alteration, and some furie (how holy soever) in those mindes, When we come unto these Stoick evasions:  I had rather be furious than voluptuous: the saying of Antisthenes, Gkasjh sasgsh, 'Rather would I be mad than merry;' when Sextius telleth us, he had rather be surprised with pain than sensuality; when Epicurus undertakes to have the goute to wantonize and faune upon him, and refuseth ease and health, with a hearty cheerefullnesse defie all evils, and scornefully despising lesse sharpe griefs disdaining to grapple with them, he blithely desireth and calleth for sharper, more forcible and worthy of him.

Spumantemque dari, pecora inter inertia, votis
Optat aprum, aut fulvum descendere monte leonem:/2

He wisht, mongst hartlesse beasts some foming Bore,
Or mountaine-Lyon would come downe and rore;

     Who would not judge them to be prankes of a courage removed from his wonted seate?  Our minde cannot out of her place attaine so higb.  She must quit it and raise herselfe aloft, and taking the bridle in her teeth, carry and transport her man so farre, that afterward he wonder at himselfe, and rest amazed at his actions.  As in exploit of warre, the heat and earnestnesse of the fight doth often provoke the noble minded souldiers to adventure on so dangerous passages that afterward being better advised, they are the first to wonder at it.  As also Poets are often surprised and rapt with admiration at their owne labours, and forget the trace by which they pass so happy a career.  It is that which some terme a fury or madnesse in them.  And as Plato saith that a setled and reposed man doth in vaine knocke at Poesies gate; Aristotle likewise saith that no excellent minde is freely exempted from some or other entermixture of folly.  And be hath reason to call any starting or extraordinarie conceit (how commendable soever) and which exceedeth our judgement and discourse, folly.  Forsomuch as wisdome is an orderly and regular managing of the minde, and which; she addresseth with measure, and conducteth with proportion; and taketh her owne word for it.  Plato disputeth thus: that the facultie of prophesying and divination is far above us, and that when wee treat it, we must be besides ourselves: our wisdome must be darkened and over shadowed by sleepe, by sicknesse, or by drowzinesse; or by some celestial fury, ravished from her owne seat. 

IF, as some say, to philosophate be to doubt; with much more reason to rave and fantastiquize, as I doe, must necessarily be to doubt:  For, to enquire and debate belongeth to a scholler, and to resolve appertaines to a cathedrall master.  But know, my cathedrall, it is the authoritie of Gods divine will, that without any contradiction doth sway us, and hath her ranke beyond these humane and vaine contestations.  Philip being with an armed band entered the countrie of Peloponnesus, some one told Damidas the Lacedemonians were like to endure much if they sought not to reobtaine his lost favour. 'Oh varlet as thou art (answered be).  And what can they suffer who have no feare at all of death?  Agis being demanded, how a man might do to live free, answered; 'Despising and contemning to die.  These and a thousand like propositions, which concurre in this purpose, do evidently inferre some thing beyond patient expecting of death it selfe to be suffered in this life: witnesse the Lacedemonian child, taken by Antigonus, and sold for a slave, who urged by his master to perform some abject service; 'Thou shalt see (said he) whom thou hast bought, for it were a shame for me to serve, having libertie so neere at hand;' and therewithall threw himselfe headlong downe from the top of the house.  Antipater, sharply threatning the Lacedemonians, to make them yeeld to a certains request of his; they answered, shouldest thou menace us worse than death, we will rather die. And to Philip, who having written unto them that he would hinder all their enterprises; 'What? (say they) wilt thou, also
<Mont2-24> 

hinder us from dying?  That is the reason why some say that the wise man liveth as long as he ought, and not so long as he can.  And that the favourablest gift nature hath bequeathed us, and which removeth all meanes from us to complaine of our condition, is, that she hath left us the key of the fields.  She hath appointed but one entrance unto life, but many a thousand ways out of it:  Well may we want ground to live upon, but never ground to die, in; as Boiocalus answered the Romanes.  Why dost thou complaine against this world?  It doth not containe thee:  If thou livest in paine and sorrow, thy base courage is the cause of it.  To die there wanteth but will.

Ubigue nors est. optime hoc cavit Deus,
Eripere vitam memo non homini potest:
At nemo mortem: mille ad hanc aditus patent./1

Each where death is:  God did this well purvey,
No man but can from man life take away,
But none barres death, to it lies many a way.

is not our jugular or throat-veine as much at our command as the medians ?  To extreme sicknesses, extreme remedies.  Servius the Grammarian being troubled with the gowt, found no better meanes to be rid of it than to apply poison to mortifie his legs.  He cared not whether they were Podagrees or no, so they were insensible.  God giveth us sufficient privilege, when be placeth us in such an estate, as life is worse than death unto us.  It is weaknesse to yeeld to evils, but folly to foster them.  The Stoikes say it is a convenient naturall life, for a wise man, to forgoe life, although he abound in all happinesse, if he doe it opportunely:  And for a foole to prolong his life, albeit he be most miserable, provided he be in most part of things, which they say to be according unto nature; As I offend not the lawes made against theeves when I cut mine owne purse, and carry away mine owne goods; nor of destroyers when I burne mine owne wood; so am I nothing tied unto lawes made against murtherers, if I deprive my selfe of mine owne life.  Hegesias was wont to say, that even as the condition of life, so should the qualitie of death depend on our election.  And Diogenes meeting with the Philosopher Speusippus, long time afflicted with the dropsie, and therefore carried in a litter, who cried out unto him, All haile Diogenes: And to thee no health at all (replied Diogenes), that endurest to live in so wretched an estate.  True it is, that a while after, Speusippus, as overtired with so languishing a condition of life, compassed his owne death. But this goeth not without some contradiction:  For many are of opinion, that without the expresse commandment of him that hath placed us in this world, we may by no meanes forsake the garrison of it, and that it is in the hands of God only, who therein bath placed us, not for our selves alone, but for his glory, and others services when ever it shall please him to discharge us hence, and not for us to take leave:  That we are not borne for our selves, but for our Countrie:  The Lawes for their owne interest require an accompt at our hands for our selves, and have a just action of murther against us.  Else as for- 

sakers of our owne charge, we are punished in the other world.

Proxima deinde tenent maesti loca, qui sibi lethum
Insontes peperere manu, lucemque perosi
Projecere animas./1

Next place they lamentable hold in hell,
Whose hand their death caused causelesse, (but not well) And hating life did thence their soules expell.

Duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus
Nigrae feraci frondis in Algido
Per damna, per caedes, ab ipso
Ducit opes animumque fero./2

As holme-tree doth with hard axe lopt
On hils with many holme-trees topt,
From losse, from cuttings it doth feele,
Courage and store rise ev'n from steele,

Non est putas virtus, pater,
Timere vitam, sed malis ingentibus
Obstare, nec se vertereac vetro dare./3

Sir, 'tis not vertue, as you understand,
To feare life, but grosse mischiefe to withstand,
Not to retire, turne backe, at any hand.

seeke to squat it selfe in some hollow lurking hole, or to hide her selfe under some massie tombe, thereby to shun the strokes of fortune. She never forsakes her course, nor leaves her way, what stormie weather soever crosse her.

Si fractus illabatur orbis.
Impavidam ferient ruinae./1

If the world broken should upon her fall,
The ruines may her strike, but not appall,

Hic, rogo, nonfuror est, ne moriare, mori?|2

Madnesse is't not, say I,
To dye, lest you should dye?

      ------ multos in summa pericula misit
Venturi timor ipse mali fortissimus ille est,
Qui promptus metuenda pati, si cominus instent
Et diferre potest./3

The very feare of ils to come, hath sent
Many to mighty dangers: strongest they,
Who fearfull things t' endure are ready bent
If they confront them, yet can them delay.

Usque adeo mortisformidine, vitae
Percepit humanos odium, lucisqe videndae,
Ut sibi consciscant maerenti pectore lethum,
Obliti fonte currarum hunc esse timorem.4

So far by feare of death, the hate of life,
And seeing light, doth men as men possesse,
They grieving kill themselves to end the strife,
Forgetting, feare is spring of their distresse.

neerest and deerest friend of life (that is to say, himselfe) and abridged him of the destinies course, not constrained by any publike judgement, nor by any lewd and inevitilble accident of fortune, nor by any intolerable shame or infamy, but through basenesse of minde, and weakenesse of a faint-fearful courage, to have a most ignominious and ever-reproachfull buriall.  And the opinion which disdaineth our life is ridiculous:  For in fine it is our being.  It is our all in all.  Things that have a nobler and richer being nay accuse ours:  But it is against nature, we should despise, and carelesly set our selves at naught:  It is a particular infirmitie, and, which is not seene in any other creature, to hate and disdaine himselfe.  It is of like vanitie, that we desire to be other than we are.  The fruit of such a desire doth not concerne us, forasmuch as it contradicteth and hindereth it selfe in it selfe.  He that desireth to be made of a man an Angell doth nothing for himselfe:  He should be nothing the better by it:  And being no more, who shall rejoyce or conceive any gladnesse of this change or amendment for him?

Debet enim misere cui forte aegreque futuram est,
Ipse quoque esse in eo tum tempore, cum male possit
Accidere./1

For he, who shall perchance prove miserable,
And speed but ill, should then himselfe be able
To be himselfe, when ils may chance unstable.

often dye for slight causes, since these that keepe us alive are not very strong; yet is some measure required in them.  There are certaine fantasticall and brainesicke humors, which have not only provoked particular men, but whole Nations to defeat themselves.  I have heretofore aleaged some examples of them:  And moreover we reade of certaine Milesian virgins, who upon a furious conspiracie hanged themselves one after another, untill such time as the Magistrate provided for it, appointing that such as should be found so hanged, should with their owne halters be dragged naked thorow the streets of the citie.  When Threicion perswadeth Cleomenes to kill himselfe, by reason of the bad and desperate estate his affaires stood in, and having escaped a more honourable death in the battell which he had lately lost, moveth him to accept of this other, which is second to him in honour, and give the Conqueror no leisure to make him endure, either another death, or else a shamefull life, Cleomenes, with a Lacedemonian and Stoike courage, refuseth this counsell as base and effeminate:  It is a receipt (saith he) which can never faile me, and whereof a man should make no use, so long as there remaineth but one inch of hope:  That to live, is sometimes constancie and valour; 'That he will have his very death serve his Countrie, and by it shew an act of honour and of vertue.  Threicion then beleeved, and killed himselfe.  Cleomenes did afterwards as much, but not before he had tried and assayed the utmost power of fortune.  All inconveniencies are not so much worth that a man should dye to eschue them.  Moreover, there being so many sudden changes and violent alterations in humane things, it is hard to judge in what state or point we are justly at the end of our hope: [Edgar]

Sperat et in saeva victus gladiator arena,
Sit licet infesto pollice turba minax./1

The Fencer hopes, though down in lists he lye,
And people with turn'd hand threats he must dye.

hope for so long as he liveth: yea, but answereth Seneca, wherefore shall I rather have that in minde; that fortune can do all things for him that is living, than this; that fortune hath no power at all over him who knoweth how to dye?  Josephus is seene engaged in so apparent-approaching danger, with a whole nation against him, that according to humane reason there was no way for him to escape; notwithstanding being (as he saith) counselled by a friend of his, at that instant, to kill himselfe, it fell out well for him to opinionate himselfe yet in hope: for fortune, beyond all mans discourse, did so turne and change that accident, that without any inconvenience at all, he saw himselfe delivered: whereas on the contrarie Brutus and Cassius, by reason of the down-fall and rashnesse, wherewith before due time and occasion they killed themselves; did utterly lose the reliques of the Roman libertie , whereof they were protectors.  The Lord of Anguien in the battell of Serisolles, as one desperate of the combats successe, which on his side went to wracke, attempted twice to run himselfe thorow the throat with his rapier and thought by precipitation to bereave himselfe of the enjoying of so notable a victorie.  I have seene a hundred Hares save themselves even in the Grey-hounds jawes: liquis carnifici suo superstes fuit./1  'Some man hath outlived his Hang-man.

Multa dies variusque labor mutabilis evi
Rettulit in melius, multos alterna revisens
Lusit, et in solido rursus fortuna locavit./2

Time, and of turning age the divers strains,
Hath much to better brought, fortunes turn'd traine
Hath many mock'd, and set them fast againe.

some are of opinion, a man should take it at his owne pleasure.  Democritus, chiefe of the AEtolians, being led captive to Rome, found meanes to escape by night but being pursued by his keepers, rather, than he would be taken againe, ran himselfe thorow with his sword.  Antinous and Theodotus, their Citie of Epirus being by the Romans reduced unto great extremitie, concluded, and perswaded all the people to kill themselves.  But the counsell, rather to yield, having prevailed, they went to seeke their owne death, and rushed amidst the thickest of their enemies, with an intention rather to strike than to ward themselves.      The Iland of Gosa, being some yeares since surprised and over-run by the Turkes, a certaine Sicilian therein dwelling, having two faire daughters ready to be marrried, killed them both with his owne bands, together with their mother, that came in to help them that done, running out into the streets, with a crossebow in one band and a caliver in the other, at two shoots slew the two first Turks that came next to his gates, then resolutely drawing his sword, ran furiously among them, by whom he was suddenly hewen in peeces:  Thus, did be save himselfe from slavish bondage, having first delivered his owne from it.  The Jewish women, after they had caused their children to be circumcised, to avoid the crueltie of Antiochus, did headlong precipitate themselves and them unto death.  I have heard it credibly reported that a gentleman of qood quality being prisoner in one of our gaols, his parents advertized that he should assuredly be condemned to avoid the infamie of so reproachfull a deathg, appointed a priest to tell him that the best remedy was to recommend himselfe to such a with such a saint, with such ,@and such a vow, and to continue eight dayes without taking any sustenance, what faintnesse or weaknesse soever he should feele in himselfe.  He believed them, and so without thinking on it, was delivered out of life and danger.  Scribonia perswading Libo her nephew, to kill himselfe, rather than to await the stroke of justice, told him that for a 

man to preserve his owne life, to put it into the hands of such as three or foure dayes after should come and seek it, was even to dispatch another man's business, and that it was no other than for one to serve his enemies to preserve his bloud, therewith to make food.  We read in the Bible that Nicanor the persecutor of Gods law, having seint his satellites to apprehend the good old man Rasias for the honour of his vertue, surnamed the father of the Jewes; when that good man saw no other means left him, his gate being burned, and his enemies ready to lay hold on him, chose rather than to fall into the hands of such villaines and be so basely abused against the honour of his place, to dye nobly, and so smote himselfe with his owne sword; but by reason of his haste, having not thoroughly slaine himselfe, he ran to throw himselfe downe from an high wall, amongst the throng of people, which making him roome, he fell right upon his head.  All which notwithstanding, perceiving life to remaine in him, he tooke heart againe; and getting up on his feet, all goared with bloud and loaden with strokes, making way through the prease, came to a craggy and downe-steepy rock, where, unable to go any further, by one of his wounds with both his hands pulled out his guts, and tearing and breaking them cast them amongst such as pursued him, calling and attesting the vengeance of God to light upon them.  Of all violences committed against conscience, the most in mine opinion to be avoided is that which is offered against the chastitie of women. Forasmuch as there is naturally some corporall pleasure commixt with it, and therefore the dissent cannot fully enough be joyned thereunto; and it seemeth that force is in some sort intermixed with some will.  The ecclesiastical storie hath in especiall reverence sundry such examples of devout persons who called for death to warrant them from the outrages which some tyrants prepared against their religion and consciences.  Pelagia and Sophronia, both canonised, the first, together with her mother and sisters, to escape the outrageous rapes of some souldiers, threw 

her selfe into a river; the other, to shun the force of Maxentius, the Emperor, slew her selfe.  It shall peradventure redound to our honour in future ages, that a wise author of these dayes, and namely a Parisian,, doth labour to perswade the ladies of our times rather to hazard upon any resolution than to embrace so horrible a counsell of such desperation. I am sorie that to put amongst his discourses he knew not the good saying I learnt of a woman at Tholouse, who had passed through the hands of some souldiers: 'God be praised,' said she, 'that once in my life I have had my belly full without sinne.  Verify these cruelties are not worthy of the French curtesie.  And God be thanked, since this good advertisement, our ayre is infinitely purged of them.  Let it suffice that in doing it they say no, and take it, following the rule of Marot.  The historie is very full of such, who a thousand ways have changed lingering, toylsome life with death.  Lucius Aruntius killed himselfe, as he said to avoid what was past and eschue what was to come.  Granius Sylvanus and Statius Proximus, after they had beene pardoned by Nero, killed themselves, either because they scorned to live by the favour of so wicked a man, or because they would not another time be in danger of a second pardon, seeing his so easie-yielding unto suspicions and accusations against honest men.  Spargapises, sonne unto Queene Tomiris, prisoner by the law of warre unto Cyrus, employed the first favour that Cyrus did him by setting him free, to kill himselfe, as be who never pretended to reap other fruit by his liberty, than to revenge the infamie of his taking upon himselfe.  Boges, a Governor for King Xerxes, in the country of Ionia, being besieged by the Athenians army, under the conduct of Cymon, refused the composition to returne safely, together with his goods and treasure, into Asia, as one impatient to survive the loss of what his master had given him in charge; and after he had stoutly, and even to the last extremity, defended the towne, having no manner of victuals left him; first he all the gold and treasure, with whatsoever he 

imagined the enemy might reap any commoditie by, into the river Strimon. Then having caused a great pile of wood to be set on fire, and made all women, children, concubines and servants to be stripped and throwne into the flames, afterward ran in himselfe, where all were burned.  Ninachetuen, a lord in the East Indies, having had an inkling of the King of Portugales viceroys deliberation to dispossess him, without any apparent cause of the charge he had in Malaca, for to give it unto the King of Campar, of himselfe took this resolution:  First, he caused an high scaffold to be set up, somewhat longer than broad, underpropped with pillars, all gorgeously hanged with rich tapestrie, strewed with flowers and adorned with precious perfumes.  Then, having put on a sumptuous long robe of cloth of gold, richly beset with store of precious stones of inestimable worth, he came out of the palace into the street, and by certaine steps ascended the scaffold, in one of the corners whereof was a pile of aromaticall wood set afire. All the people of the citie were flocked together to see what the meaning of such unaccustomed preparation might tend unto.  Ninachetuen, with an undanted, bold, yet seeming discontented countenance, declared the manifold obligations which the Portugal nation was endebted unto him for, expostulated how faithfully and truly he had dealt in his charge; that having so often witnessed, armed at all assayes for others, that his honour was much dearer unto him than life, he was not to forsake the care of it for himselfe; that fortune refusing him all means to oppose himselfe against the injurie intended against him, his courage at the least willed him to remove the feeling thereof, and not become a laughing stocke unto the people, and a triumph to men of lesse worth than himselfe, which words, as he was speaking, he cast himselfe into the fire.  Sextilia, the wife of Scaurus, and Praxea, wife unto Labeo, to encourage their husbands to avoid the dangers which pressed them, wherein they had no share (but in regard of the interest of their conjugal 

affection), voluntarily engaged their life, in this extreme necessitie, to serve them as an example to imitate and company to regard.  What they performed for their husbands, Cocceius Nerva acted for his countrie, and though lesse profitable, yet equall in true love.  That famous interpreter of the lawes, abounding in riches, in reputation, in credit, and flourishing in health about the Emperour, had no other cause to rid himselfe of life but the compassion of the miserable estate, wherein he saw the Romane commonwealth. Nothing can be added unto the daintinesse of the wifes death of Fulvius who was so inward with Augustus.  Augustus perceiving he had blabbed a certaine secret of importance, which he on trust had revealed unto him, one morning comming to visit him, he seemed to frowne upon him for it; whereupon as guilty, he returneth home as one full of despaire, and in piteous sort told his wife that sithence he was falne into such a misechiefe, be was resolved to kill himselfe; shee, as one no whit dismaied, replied unto him: 'Thou shalt doe but right, since having so often exprienced the incontinence of my tongue, thou hast not learnt to beware of it, yet give me leave to kill my selfe first,' and without more adoe ran her selfe thorow with a sword.  Vibius Virius despairing of his cities safetie, besieged by the Romans, and mistrusting their mercie, in their Senates last consultation, after many remonstrances employed to that end, concluded that the best and fairest way was to escape fortune by their owne bands.  The very enemies should have them in more honour, and Hanniball might perceive what faithfull friends he had forsaken.  Enviting those that should allow of his advice to come and take a good supper, which was prepared in his house, where, after great cheere, they should drinke together whatsoever should be presented unto him; a drinke that shall deliver our bodies from torments, free our mindes from injuries, and release our eyes and eares from seeing and hearing so horrible mischiefes, which the conquered must endure at the hands of most cruell and offended conquerors. 

'I have,' quoth he, 'taken order that nen fit for that purpose shall be ready, when we shall be expired, to cast us into a great burning pile of wood.  Diverse approved of his high resolution, but few did imitate the same.  Seven and twentie Senators followed him, who after they had attempted to stifle so irkesome and suppress so terror-moving a thought, with quaffing and swelling of wine, they ended their repast by this deadly messe: and enter-bracing one another, after they had in common deplored and bewailed their countries misfortunes, some went home to their owne house, othersome stayed there, to be entombed with Vibius in his owne fire, whose death was so long and lingering, forsomuch as the vapor of the wine having possessed their veines, and slowed the effect and operation of the poyson, that some lived an hour after they had seen their enemies enter Capua,, which they caried the next day after, and incurred the miseries and saw the calamities which at so high a rate they had sought to eschue.      Taurea Iubellius, another citizen there, the Consull Fulvius returning from that shameful slaughter which he had committed of 225 Senators, called him churlishly by his name, and having arrested him; 'Co;nmand, 'quoth he unto him, 'that I also be massacred after so many others, that so thou maiest brag to have murthered a much more valiant man than ever thou wast. Fulvius, as one enraged, disdaining him; forasmuch as be had newly received letters from Rome contrarie to the inhumanitie of his execution, which inhibited him to proceed any further; Iubellius, continuing his speech, said: 'Sithence my Countrie is taken, my friends butchered, and having with mine owne hands slaine my wife and children, as the onely meane to free them from the desolation of this ruine, I may not dye the death of my fellow citizens, let us borrow the vengeance of this hatefull life from vertue:' And drawing a blade he had hidden under his garments, therewith ran himselfe thorow, and falling on his face, died at the Consuls feet. Alexander besieged a Citie in India, the inhabitants whereof, 

perceiving themselves brought to a very narrow pinch, resolved obstinately to deprive him of the pleasure he might get of his victorie, and together with their Citie, in despite of his humanitie set both the Towne and themselves on a light fire, and so were all consumed.  A new kinde of warring, where the enemies did all they could, and sought to save them, they to loose themselves, and to be assured of their death, did all a man can possibly effect to warrant his life.  Astapa, a Citie in Spaine, being very weake of wals and other defences, to withstand the Romanes that besieged it; the inhabitants drew all their riches and wealth into the market-place, whereof having made a heap, and on the top of it placed their wives and children, and encompassed and covered the same with drie brush wood that it might burne the easier, and having appointed fifty lusty young men of theirs for the performance of their resolution, made a sally, where following their determined vow, seeing they could not vanquish, suffered themselves to be slaine every mothers childe.  The fifty, after they had massacred every living soule remaining in the Citie, and set fire to the heap joyfully leaped there-into, ending their generous liberty in a state rather insensible than dolorous and reproachfull; showing their enemies that, if fortune had beene so pleased, they should as well have had the courage to bereave them of the victory as they, had to yeeld it them both vaine and hideous, yea, and mortall to those who allured by the glittering of the gold that moulten ran from out the flame, thicke and threefold approching greedily unto it, were therein smothered and burned, the formost being unable to give back, by reason of the throng that followed them.  The Abideans, pressed by Philip, resolved upon the very same, but being prevented, the King whose heart abhorred to see the fond-rash precipitation of such an execution (having first seized upon and saved the treasure and moveables, which they had diversly condemned to the lames and utter spoyle) retiring all the Souldiers, granted them the full space of three dayes to make 

themselves away, that so they might doe it with more order and leisure; which three dayes they replenished with blood and murther beyond all hostile cruelty:  And which is strange, there was no one person saved that had power upon himselfe.  There are infinite examples of such-like popular conclusions, which seeme more violent by how much more the effect of them is more universall. They are lesse than when severall.  What discourse would not doe in each one, it doth in all the vehemence of societie ravishing particular judgements. Such as were condemned to dye in the time of Tiberius, and delaid their execution any while, lost their goods, and could not be buried; but such as prvented the same, in killing themselves,, were solemnly enterred, and might at their pleasure bequeath such goods as they had to whom they list. But a man doth also sometimes desire death, in hope of a greater good. 'I desire,' saith Saint Paul, 'to be out of this world, that I may be with Jesus Christ: and who shal release me out of these bonds?  Cleombrotus Ambraciota, having read Platoes Pheadon, was so possessed with a desire and longing for an after-life, that without other occasion or more adoe, he went and headlong cast himselfe into the sea.  Whereby it appeareth how improperly we call this voluntarie dissolution despaire; unto which the violence of hope doth often transport us, and as often a peacefull ana setled inclination of judgement.  Iaques du Castell, Bishop of Soissons, in the voyage which Saint Lewes undertooke beyond the seas, seeing the King and all his army ready to returne into France, and leave the affaires of Religion imperfect, resolved with himselfe rather to goe to heaven; And having bidden his friends farewell, in the open view of all men, rushed alone into the enemies troops, of whom he was forthwith hewen in pieces.  In a certaine kingdome of these late- discovered Indies, upon a day of a solemne procession, in which the idols they adore are publikely carried up and down upon a chariot of exceeding greatnesse: besides that, there are many seene to cut 

and slice great mammocks of their quicke flesh to offer the said idols; there are numbers of others seene who, prostrating themselves alongst the ground, endure very patiently to be mouldred and crushed to death under the chariots wheels, thinking thereby to purchase after their death a veneration of holinesse, of which they are not defrauded.  The death of this Bishop, armed as we have said, argueth more generositie and lesse sense: the heat of the combat ammusing one part of it.  Some common-wealths there are that have gone about to sway the justice and direct the opportunitie of voluntarie deaths.  In our Citie of Marseille they were wont in former ages ever to keepe some poison in store, prepared and compounded with hemlocke, at the Cities charge, for such as would upon any occasion shorten their daies, having first approved the reasons of their enterprise unto the six hundred Elders of the Towne, which was their Senate:  For otherwise it was unlawfull for any body, except by the Magistrates permission, and for very lawfully-urgent occasions, to lay violent hands upon himselfe.  The very same law was likewise used in other places.  Sextus Pompeius, going into Asia, passed thorow the Iland of Cea, belonging to Negropont; it fortuned whilest he abode there (as one as one reporteth that was in his companie) that a woman of great authority, having first yielded an accompt unto her Citizens and shewed good reasons why she was resolved to end her life, earnestly entreated Pompey to be an assistant at her at her death, that so it might be esteemed more honourable, which he assented unto; and having long time in vaine sought, by vertue of his eloquence (wherein be was exceeding ready) and force of perswasion, to alter her intent and remove her from her purpose, in the end yeelded to her request.  She had lived foure score and ten yeares in a most happy state of minde and body, but when lying on her bed, better adorned than before she was accustomed to have it, and leaning on her elbow, thus she bespoke: 'The Gods, O Sextus Pompeius, and rather those I forgoe than those I goe unto, reward and appay thee, for that 

thou hast vouchsafed to be both a counsellor of my life and a witnesse of my death.  As for my part, having hitherto ever tasted the favourable visage of fortune, for feare the desire of living overlong should make me taste of her frownes, with an happy and successfull end I will now depart, and set free the remainder of my soule, leaving behind me two daughters of, mine, with a legion of grand-children and nephewes.  That done, having preached unto and exhorted all her people and kinsfolks to an unitie and peace, and divided her goods amongst them, and recommended her household Gods unto her eldest daughter, with an assuredly-staide hand she tooke the cup wherein the poyson was, and having made her vowes unto Mercurie, and prayers to conduct her unto some happy place in the other world, roundly swallowed that mortall potion; which done, she intertained the progresse of her behaviour, and as the parts of her body were one after another possessed with the cold operation of that venom: untill such time as shee felt it worke at the heart and in her entrals, shee called her daughter to doe her the last office and close her eyes.  Plinie reporteth of a certaine Hiperborean nation, wherein, by reason of the mild temperature of the aire, the inhabitants thereof commonly never dye, but when they please to make themselves away, and that being weary and tired with living they are accustomed at the end of a long-long age, having first made merry and good cheare with their friends, from the top of an high-steepy rocke appointed for that purpose, to cast themselves headlong into the sea.  Grieving-smart, and a worse death seeme to me the most ecxusable incitations. 

     I DO with some reason, as me seemeth, give pricke and praise unto Iaques Amiot above all our French writers, not only for his natural purity, and pure elegancie of the tongue, wherin he excelleth all others, nor for his indefatigable constancie of so long and toilesome a labour, nor for the unsearchable depth of his knowledge, having so successfully-happy been able to explaine an Author so close and thorny, and unfold a writer so mysterious and entangled (for let any man tell me what he list, I have no skill of the Greeke, but I see thorowout al his translation a sense so closely-joynted, and so pithily- continued, that either he hath assuredly understood and inned the very imagination, and the true conceit of the Author, or having through a long and continnall conversion, lively planted in his minde a generall Idea of that of Plutarke, he hath at least lent him nothing that doth belye him, or misseeme him) but above all, I kon him thanks that he hath had the hap to chuse, and knowledge to cull-out so worthy a worke, and a booke so fit to the purpose, therewith to make so unvaluable a present unto his Countrie.  We that are in the number of the ignorant had beene utterly confounded, had not his booke raised us from out the dust of ignorance:  God-a-mercy his endevours we dare not both speak and write:  Even Ladies are therewith able to confront Masters of arts:  It is our breviarie.  If so good a man chance to live, I bequeath Xenophon unto him, to doe as much.  It is an easier peece of worke, and so much the more agreeing to his age.  Moreover I wot not how me
<Mont2-42> 

seemeth, although he roundly and clearly disintangle himself from hard passages,, that notwithstanding his stile is more close and neerer it selfe when it is not laboured and wrested, and that it glideth smoothly at his pleasure.  I was even now reading of that place where Plutarke speaketh of himself, that Rusticus being present at a declamation of his in Rome, received a packet from the Emperour, which he temporized to open untill he had made an end: wherein (saith he) all the assistants did singularly commend the gravitie of the man.  Verily, being on the instance of curiositie and on the greedy and insatiate passion of newes, which with such indiscreet impatience and impatient indiscretion, induceth us to neglect all things for to entertaine a new-come guest, and forget all respect and countenance whersoover we be, suddenly to break up such letters as are brought us; he had reason to commend the gravitie of Rusticus: to which he might also have added the commendation of his civilitie and curtesie, for that be would not interrupt the course of his declamation:  But I make a question whether he might be commended for his wisdome; for receiving unexpected letters, and especially from an Emperour, it might very well have fortuned that this deferring to read them might have caused some notable inconvenience. Recklesness is the vice contrarie unto curiosity+, towards which I am naturally inclined, aud wherein I have seen many men, so extremely plunged, that three or foure days after the receiving of letters which have been sent them, they have been found in their pockets yet unopened.  I never opened any, not only of such as had beene committed to my keeping, but of such as by any fortune came to my hands.  And I make a conscience standing neare some great person if mine eyes chance unawares to steale some knowledge of any letters of importance that he readeth.  Never was man lesse inquisitive, or pryed lesse into other mens affaires than I.  In our fathers time the Lord of Boutieres was like to have lost Turin, forsomuch as being one night at supper in very good company he deferred the reading 

of an advertisement which was delivered him of the treasons that were practised and complotted against that Citie where he commanded.  And Plutarke himselfe has taught me that Iulius Caesar had escaped death, if going to the Senate-house that day wherein he was murdered by the conspirators he had read a memorial which was presented unto him.  Who likewise reporteth the storie of Archias, the Tyrant of Thebes, how the night fore- going the execution of the enterprize that Pelopidas had complotted to kill him, thereby to set his Countrie at libertie: another Archias of Athens writ him a letter wherein he particularly related unto him all that was conspired and complotted against him; which letter being delivered him whilst he sate at supper, he deferred the opening of it, pronouncing this by-word: 'To morrow is a new day,' which afterward was turned to a Proverb in Greece. A wise man may, in mine opinion, for the interest of others, as not unmannerly to breake companie like unto Rusticus, or not to discontinue some other affaire of importance, remit and defer to understand such newes as are brought him; but for his own private interest or particular pleasure, namely, if he be a man having publike charge, if he regard his dinner so much that he will not break it off, or his sleepe that he will not interrupt it: to doe it, is inexcusable.  And in former ages was the Consulate-place in Rome, which they named the most honourable at the table, because it was more free and more accessible for such as might casually come in, to entertaine him that should be there placed.  Witnesse, that though they were sitting at the board, they neither omitted nor gave over the managing of other affaires and following of other accidents.  But when all is said, it is very hard, chiefely in humane actions, to prescribe so exact rules by discourse of reason, that fortune+ doe not sway, and keepe her right in them.

My brother the Lord of Brousse and myself, during the time of our civill warres, travelling one day together, we fortuned to meet upon the way with a Gentleman in outward semblance, of good demeanour:  He was of our contrary faction, but forasmuch as he counterfeited himselfe otherwise, I knew it not.  And the worst of these tumultuous intestine broyles is, that the cards are so shuffled (your enemie being neither by language nor by fashion, nor by any other apparent marke distinguished from you; nay, which is more, brought up under the same lawes and customes, and breathing the same ayre) that it is a very hard matter to avoid confusion and shun disorder.  Which consideration made me not a little fearefull to meet with our troopes, especially where I was not knowns, lest I should be urged to tell my name, and haply doe worse.  As other times before it had befalne me; for, by such a chance, or rather mistaking, I fortuned once to lose all my men and horses and hardly escaped myself: and amongst other my losses and servants that were slaine, the thing that most grieved me was the untimely and miserable death of a young Italian Gentlemen whom I kept as my Page, and very carefully brought up, with whom dyed as forward, as budding and as hopefull a youth as ever I saw.  But this man seemed fearfully dismaid, and at every encounter of horseman and passage by, or thorow any Towne that held for the King, I observed him to be so strangely distracted that in the end I perceived and guessed they were but guilty alarums that his conscience gave him. It eemed unto this seely man that all might apparently,
<Mont2-45> 

both through his blushing selfe-accusing countenance, and by the crosses he wore upon his upper garments, read the secret intentions of his faint heart.  Of such marvailous-working power is the sting of conscience: which often induceth us to bewray, to accuse, and to combat our selves; and for want of other evidences she produceth our selves against our selves.

Occultum quaetiens animo tortore flagellum./1

Their minde, the tormentor of sinne,
Shaking an unscene whip within.

      ------ vitasque in vulnere ponunt./1

They, while they others sting,
Death to themselves do bring.

Quippe ubi se multi per somnia saepe loquentes, Aut morbo delirantes protraxe ferantur,
Et celata diu in medium peccata delisse./2

Many in dreames oft speaking, or unhealed,
In sicknesse raving have themselves revealed,
And brought to light their sinnes long time concealed.

      ------ prima est haec ultio, quod se
Iudice nemo nocens absolvitur./3
 

This is the first revenge, no guilty mind
Is quitted, though it selfe be judge assign'd.

Conscia mens ut cuique sua est, ita concipit intra
Pectora pro facto spemque metumque suo./1

As each mans minde is guiltie, so doth he
Inlie breed hope and feare, as his deeds be.

great, and enured to overhigh fortune (saith Titus Livius) to know how to be a criminall offender, and stoopingly to yeeld himself to the baseness to defend his innocencie.  Tortrure and racking are dangerous inventions, and seeme rather to be trials of patience than Essayes of truth.  And both he that can, and he that cannot endure them, conceale the truth.  For wherefore shall paine or smart rather compell me to confesse that which is so indeed than force me to tell that which is not?  And contrariwise, if he who hath not done that whereof he is accused, is sufficiently patient to endure those torments, why shall not he @ able to tolerate them who hath done it, and is guilty indeed; so deare and worthy a reward as life being proposed unto him?  I am of opinion that the ground of this invention proceedeth from the consideration of the power and facultie of the conscience.  For, to the guilty, it seemeth to give a kinde of furtherance to the torture, to make him confesse his fault, and weakneth and dismayeth him: and on the other part, it encourageth and strengthneth the innocent against torture. To say truth, it is a meane full of uncertainty and danger.  What would not a man say, nay, what not doe, to avoid so grievous paines and shun such torments?

Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolor./1

Torment to lye sometimes will drive,
Ev'n the most innocent alive.

though, in my conceit, very inhumanely, and there withall most unprofitably. Many Nations lesse barbarous in that than the Grecian or the Romane, who terme them so, judge it a horrible and cruell thing to racke and torment a man for a fault whereof you are yet in doubt.  Is your ignorance long of him?  What can he doe withall?  Are not you unjust who because you will not put him to death without some cause, you doe worse than kill him?  And that it is so, consider but how often he rather chuseth to dye guiltlesse than passe by this informat1on, much more painfull than the punishment or torment; and who many times, by reason of the sharpnesse of it, preventeth, furthereth, yea, and executeth the punishment.  I wot not whence I heard this story, but it exactly hath reference unto the conscience of our Justice. A countrie woman accused a souldier before his Generall, being a most severe Justicer, that he, with violence, had snatched from out her poore childrens hands, the small remainder of some pap or water-gruell, which she had onely left to sustaine them, forsomuch as the Army had ravaged and wasted all. The poore woman had neither witnesse nor proofe of it: it was but her yea and his no; which the Generall perceiving, after be had summoned her to be well advised what she spake, and that shee should not accuse him wrongfully; for, if shee spake an untruth, shee should then be culpable of his-accusation: But shee constantly persisting to charge him, he forthwith, to discover the truth, and to be thoroughly resolved, caused the accused Souldiers belly to be ripped, who was found faulty, and the poore woman to have said true; whereupon shee was discharged.  A condemnation instructive to others. 

It is a hard matter (although our conceit doe willingly apply, it selfe unto it) that Discourse and Instruction should sufficiently be powerful to direct us to action, and addresse us to performance, if, over and besides that, we doe not by experience exercise and frame our minde to the traine whereunto we will range it: otherwise, when we shall be on the point of the effects, it will doubtlesse finde it selfe much engaged aud empeached. And that is the reason why amongst Philosophers, those that have willed to attaine to some greater excellence, have not beene content, at home and at rest, to expect the rigors of fortune+, for feare she should surprise them unexperienced and finde them novices, if she should chance to enterfight with them but have rather gone to meet and front her before, and witting-earnestly cast themselves to the triall of the hardest difficulties.  Some have thereby voluntarily forsaken great riches, onely to practise a voluntarie povertie; others have willingly found out labour, and an austeritie of a toylesome life thereby to harden and enure themselves to evill and travell; othersome have frankly deprived themselves of the dearest and best parts of their body, as of their eyes and members of generation, lest their overpleasing and too-too wanton service might in any sort mollifie and distract the constant resolution of their minde.  But to dye, which is the greatest worke we have to doe, exercise can nothing availe us thereunto.  A man may, by custome aud experience, fortifie himselfe against griefe, sorrow, shame, want, and such like accidents; but concerning
<Mont2-51> 

death, we can but once feele and trie the same.  We are all novices, and new to learne when we come unto it.  There have, in former times, beene found men so good husbands and thrifty of time, that even in death they have assayed to taste and savor it; and bent their minde to observe and see what manner of thing that passage of death was; but none did ever yet come backe againe to tell us tidings of it. [Hamlet]

      ------ nemo expergitus extat
Frigida quem semel est vitai pausa sequuta./1

No man doth ever-after wake,
Whom once his lifes cold rest doth take.

       ----- jus hoc animi morientis habebat.2/

This power of minde had he,
When it from him did flee.

     Me seemeth, neverthelesse, that in some sort there is a meane to familiarize our selves with it, and to assay it.  We may have some experience of it, if not whole and perfect, at least such as may not altogether be unprofitable, and whicb may yeeld us better fortified and more assured.  If we cannot attaine unto it, we may at least approch it, and discerne the same:  And if we cannot enter her fort, yet shal we see and frequent the approches unto it.  It is not without reason we are taught to take notice of our sleepe for the resemblance it hath with death. [Donne, Hamlet] How easily we passe from wakmg to sleeping; with how little interest we lose the knowledge of light and of our selves.  The facultie of sleepe might haply seeme unprofitable and against nature, sithence it depriveth up of all actions and barreth us of all sense, were it not that nature doth thereby instruct us that she hath equally made us as well to live as to die; and by life presenteth the eternal state unto us which she after the same reserveth for us, so to accustome us thereunto, and remove the feare of it from us.  But such as by some violent accident are falne into a faintnes of heart, and have lost all senses, they, in mine opinion, have well-nigh beene where they might behold her true and naturall visage:  For, touching the instant or moment of the passage, it is not to be feared it should bring any traveil or displeasure with it, forasmuch as we can have nor sense nor feeling without pleasure.  Our sufferances have need of time, which is so short, and plunged in death, that necessarily it must be insensible.  It is the approches that lead unto it we should feare; and those may fall within the compasse of mans experience.  Many things seeme greater by imagination than by effect.  I have passed over a good part of my age in sound and perfect health.  I say not only sound but blithe and wantonly lustfull.  That state full of lust, of prime and mirth, made me deeme the consideration of sicknesses so yrkesome and horrible, that when I came to the experience of them I have found their fits but weake, and their assaults but faint, in respect of my apprehended feare. Lo here 

what I daily prove.  Let me be under a roofe, in a good chamber, warme-clad, and well at ease, in some tempestuous and stormy night.  I am exceedingly perplexed and much grieved for such as are abroad and have no shelter: But let me be in the storme my selfe, I doe not so much as desire to be else-where:  Only to be continually pent up in a chamber seemed intolerable to me.  I have now enured my selfe to live a whole weeke, yea a moneth in my chamber, full of care, trouble, alteration, and weaknesse; and have found that in the time of my best health I moaned such as were sicke much more than I can well moane my selfe when I am ill at ease: and that the power of my apprehension did well- nigh halfe endeare the essence and truth of the thing it selfe.  I am in good hope the like will happen to me of death: and that it is not worth the labour I take for so many preparations as I prepare against her; and so many helpes as I call to sustaine, and assemble to endure the shocke and violence of it.  But hab or nab we can never take too much advantage of it.  During our second or third troubles (I doe not well remember which) I fortuned one day, for recreation sake, to goe forth and take the ayre, about a league from my house, who am seated even in the bowels of all troubles of our civill warres of France, supposing to be most safe, so neere mine owne home and retreite, that I had no need of better attendance or equipage.  I was mounted upon a very easie-going nag, but not very sure.  At my returning home againe, a sudden occasion being offered me to make use of this nag in a peece of service whereto he was neither trained nor accustomed, one of my men (a strong sturdy fellow), mounted upon a young strongheaded horse, and that a desperate hard mouth, fresh, lusty and in breath, to shew his courage, and to outgoe his fellowes, fortuned with might and maine to set spurrs unto him, and givinf him the bridle, to come right into the path where I was, and as a colossus with his weight riding over me and my nag, that were both very little, he overthrew us both, and made us fall with our heeles upward: so that the nag lay along astonied 

in one place, and I in a trance groveling on the ground ten or twelfe paces wide of him: my face all torne and brused, my sword which I had in my hand a good way from me, my girdle broken, with no more motion or sense in me than a stocke.  It is the only swooning that ever I felt yet.  Those that were with, me, after they had assayed all possible meanes to bring me to my selfe againe, supposing me dead, tooke me in their armes, and with much adoe were carrying me home to my house, which was about halfe a French league thence: upon the way, and after I had for two houres space by all beene supposed dead and past all recoverie, I began to stir and breathe: for so great aboundance of bloud was falne into my stomake, that to discharge it nature was foreed to rowse up her spirits.  I was immediately set upon my feet, and bending forward, I presently cast up in quantitie as much clottie pure bloud as a bucket will hold and by the way was constrained to doe the like divers times before I could get home, whereby, I began to recover a little life, but it was by little and little, and so long adoing, that my chiefe senses were much more enclining to death than to life.

Perche dubbiosa ancor del suo ritorno
iVon s'assicura attonita la mente./1

For yet the minde doubtfull of it's returne
Is not assured, but astonished.

      ------ come quel ch'or apre, or chiude
Gli occhi, mezzo tra l' sonno e l'esser desto./2

As he that sometimes opens, sometimes shuts
His eyes, betweene sleepe and awake.

     Touching the functions of the soule, they started up and came in the same progresse as those of the bodie.  I perceived my selfe all bloudy; for my doublet was all sullied with the bloud I had cast. The first conceit I apprehended was that I had received some shot in my head; and in truth, at the same instant, there were divers that shot round about us.  Me thought my selfe had no other hold of me but of my lips-ends. I closed mine eyes to help (as me seemed) to send it forth, and tooke a kinde of pleasure to linger and languishingly to let my selfe goe from my selfe.  It was an imagination swimming superficially in my minde, as weake and as tender as all the rest: but in truth, not only exempted from displeasure but rather commixt with that pleasant sweetesse which they feel that suffer themselves to fall into a soft-slumbring and sense-entrancing sleepe.  I beleeve it is the same state they find themselves in, whom in the agony of death we see to droop and faint thorow weaknesse: and am of opinion we plaine and moane them without cause, esteeming that either they are agitated with grievous pangs, or that their soule is pressed with painfull cogitations.  It was ever my conceit against the opinion of many, yea and against that of Estienne de la Bo‰tie,that those whom we see so overwhelmed and faintly-drooping at the approches of their end, or utterly cast downe with the lingring tediousnesse of their deseases, or by accident of some apoplexie or falling-evill,

     ----- (vi morbi saepe coactus
Ante oculos aliquis nostros ut fulminis ictu,
Concidit, et spumas agit, ingemit, et fremit artus,
Desipit exentant nervos torquetur, anhelat,
Inconstanter et in jactando membra fatigat),/1

(Some man by force of sicknesse drivn doth fall,
As if by thunder stroke, before our eyes;
He fomes, he grones, he trembles over all,
He raves, he stretches, he's vext, panting lyes,
He tyr's his limmes by tossing,
Now this now that way crossing,)

or hurt in the head, whom we heare throb and rattle, and send forth grones and gaspes, although we gather some tokens from them, whereby it seemeth they have yet some knowledge left and certaine motions we see them make with their body:  I say, I have ever thought they had their soule and body buried and asleepe.

Vivat et est vitae nescius ipse sum./1

He lives yet knowes not he,
That he alive should be.

     -----hunc ego Diti
Sacrum jussa fero, teque isto corpore solvo./2

This to death sacred, I, as was my charge,
Doe beare, and from this body thee enlarge.

And the faltering speeches and uncertaine answers, that by continuall ringing in their eares and incessant urging them, are sometimes by force wrested from them, or by the motions which seeme to have some sympathy with that whereof they are examined, is notwithstanding no witnes that they live at least a perfect sound life.  We do also in yawning, before sleep fully seize upon us, apprehend as it were in a slumber, what is done about us, and with a troubled and uncertains hearing, follow the voyces, which seeme to sound but on the outward limits of our soule; and frame answers according to the last words we heard, which taste more of chance than of sense: which thing now I have proved by experience, I make no doubt but hitherto I have well judged of it.  For, first lying as in a trance, I laboured even with my nailes to open my doublet (for I was unarmed), and well I wot that in my imagination I felt nothing did hurt me.  For, there are several motions in us which proceed not of our free wil.

Semianimesque micant digiti, ferrumque retractant./1

The halfe-dead fingers stirre, and feele,
(Though it they cannot stirre) for steele.

Falciferos memorant currus abscindere membra,
Ut tremere in terra videatur ab artubus, id quod
Decidit abscissum, cum mens tamen atque hominis vis
Mobilitate mali non quit sentire dolorem./2

They say, sith-bearing chariots limbes bereave,
So as on earth, that which cut-off they leave,
Doth seeme to quake; when yet mans force and minde
Doth not the paine, through so quicke motion, finde.

My stomacke was surcharged with clotted bloud, my hands of themselves were still running to it, as often they are wont (yea against the knowledge of our will) where we feele it to itch.  There are many creatures, yea and some men, in whom after they are dead we may see their muskles to close and stirre.  All men know by experience, there be some parts of our bodies which often without any consent of ours doe stirre, stand, and lye down againe.  Now these passions, which but exteriourly touch us, cannot properly be termed ours; for, to make them ours, a man must wholy be engaged unto them:  And the paities that ourlfeet or hands feele whilst we sleepe are not ours.  When I came neere my house, where the tidings of my fall was already come, and those of my household met me, with such outcries as are used in like times, I did not only answer some words to what I was demanded, but some tell me I had the memory to command my men to give my wife a horse, whom I perceieved to be overtired, and labouring in the way, which is very hilly, foule, and rugged.  It seemeth this consideration proceeded from a vigilant soule: yet was I cleane distracated from it, they were but vaine conceits, and as in a cloud, were only moved by the senses of the eyes and eares: they came not from my selfe.  All which not withstanding, I knew neither whence I came nor whither I went, nor could I understand or consider what was spoken unto me.  They were but light effects, that my senses produced of themselves, as it were of custome.  Whatsoever the soule did assist it with was but a dreame, being lightly touched, and only sprinkled by the soft impression of the sense.  In the meane time my state was verily most pleasant and easefull.  I felt no manner of care or affliction, neither for my selfe nor others.  It was a slumbering, languishing and extreme weaknesse, without any paine at all.  I saw mine own house and knew it not; when I was laid in my bed, I felt great ease in my rest, For I had beene vilely hurried and haled by those poore men, which had taken the paines to carry me upon their armes a long and wearysome way, and to

say truth, they had all beene wearied twice or thrice over, and were faine to shift several] times.  Many remedies were presently offered me, but I tooke none, supposing verily I had beene deadly hurt in the head. To say truth, it had beene a very happy death:  For, the weaknesse of my discourse hindered me from judging of it, and the feeblenesse of my body from feeling the same.  Me thought I was yeelding up the ghost so gently, and after so easie and indolent a manner, that I feele no other action lesse burthensome than that was.  But when I began to come to life againe and recover my former strength -

Vt tandem sensus convaluere mei - /1

At last when all the sprites I beare,
Recalled aild recollected were -

enter my thoughts) me seemed it was a flashing or lightning that smote my soule with shaking, and that I came from another world.  This discourse of so slight an accident is but vaine and frivolous were not the instructions I have drawne from thence for my use:  For truly, for a man to acquaint himselfe with death+, I finde no better way than to approach unto it.  Now, as Plinie saith, every man is a good discipline unto himselfe, alwayes provided he be able to prie into himselfe.  This is not my doctrine, it is but my study and not another man's lesson, but mine owne:  Yet ought no man to blame me if I impart the same.  What serves my turne may haply serve another mans: otherwise I marre nothing; what I make use of is mine owne.  And if I play the foole, it is at mine owne cost, and without any other bodies interest, For it is but a kind of folly that dies in me, and hath no traine.  We have notice but of two or three former ancients that have trodden this path; yet can we not say, whether altogether like unto this of mine, for we know but their names.  No man since hath followed their steps; it is a thorny and crabbed enterprise, and more than it makes show of, to follow so strange and vagabond a path as that of our spirit: to penetrate the shady, and enter the thicke-covered depths of these infernall winding crankes; to chuse so many and settle so severall aires of his agitatations: And tis a new extraordinary ammusing that distracts us from the common occupation of the world, yea, and from the most recommended:  Many yeares are past since I have no other aime whereto my thoughts bend, but my selfe, and that I controule and study nothing but my selfe.  And if I study anything else, it is immediately to place it upon, or to say better in myselfe. And met hinks I err not, as commonly men doe in other sciences, without all comparison less profitable.  I impart what I have content not my selfe therein. 'There is no description so hard, nor so profitable, as is the description of a man own life.  Yet must a man handsomely 

trimme-up, yea and dispose and range himselfe to appeare on the Theatre of this world.  Now I continually tricke up my selfe; for I uncessantly describe my selfe.  Custome hath made a mans speech of himselfe vicious, and obstinately forbids it in hatred of boasting+, which ever seemeth closely to follow one's selfe witnesses.  Whereas a man should wipe the childs nose, that is now called to unnose himselfe.

In vicium ducit culpae fuga./1

Some shunning of some sinne,
Doe draw some further in.

virtue it self is faulty and repentable.  My art and profession is to live.  Who forbids me to speake of it according to my sense, experience, and custome; let him appoint the Architect to speake of buildings, not according to himselfe, but his neighbours according to anothers skill, and not his owne.  If it be a glory for a man to publish his owne worth himselfe, why does not Cicero prefer the eloquence of Hortensius, and Hortensius that of Cicero?  Some may peradventure suppose that by deeds and effects, and not simply by words, I witnesse of my selfe.  I principally set forth my cogitations; a shapelesse subject, and which cannot fall within the compasse of a workemanlike production; with much adoe can I set it downe in this ayrie bodie of the voice.  Wiser men, and more learned and devout, have lived avoiding all apparent effects.  Effects would speak more of fortune than of me.  They witnesse their part and not mine, unlesse it be conjecturally and uncertainly: parcels of a particular shew.  I wholy set forth and expose my selfe:  It is a Sceletos; where at first sight appeare all the vaines, muskles, gristles, sinnewes and tendons, each severall part in his due place.  The effect of the cough produceth, one part, that of at of palenesse or panting of the heart another, and that doubtfully.  I write not my gests, but my selfe and my essence.  I am of opinion that a man must be very wise to esteeme himselfe, and equally consciencious to give testimony of it: be it low, be it high indifferently.  If I did absolutely seeme good and wise unto my selfe, I would boldly declare it.  To speake lesse of himselfe than he possesseth, is folly, and not modesty+.  To say himself for lesse than he is worth is basenesse and pusilanimity, saith Aristotle.  No vertue aids it self with false-hood, and truth is never a matter of errour.  And yet for a man to say more of himself than he can well prove, is not ever presumption though often sottishnesse.  For a man to over-weene and please himself exceedingly with what he is, and fall into indiscreet love with himselfe, is in my conceit the substance of this vice.  The best remedy to cure him, is to do 

cleane contrary to that which those appoint, who in forbidding men to speak of themselves, do consequentiy also inhibit more to thinke of themselves. Pride consisteth in conceit.  The tongue can have no great share in it. For one to ammuse on himself is in their imagination to please himselfe: And for a man to frequent and practise himselfe, is at an over-deare rate to please himselfe.  But this excess doth only breed in them, that but superficially feele and search themselves that are seene to follow their affaires, which call idleness and fondnesse for a man to entertaine, to applaud, and to endeare himselfe, and frame Chimeraes or build Castles in the ayre, deeming themselves as a third person and strangers to themselves.  If any be besotted with his owne knowledge looking upon himselfe, let him cast his eyes towards former ages, his pride shall be abated, his ambition shall be quailed; for there shall he find many thousands of spirits that will cleane suppress and tread him under.  If he fortune to enter any selfe-presumption of his own worth, let him but call to remembrance the lives of Scipio+ and Epaminondas+; so many armies, and so many Nations which leave him so far behind them.{ancients+} No particular quality shall make him proud, that therewith shall reckon so many imperfect and weak qualities that in him and at last the nullity of the human condition.  Forsomuch as Socrates+ had truly only nibled on the precept of his God to know himself, and had learned to contemne himself, he alone was esteemed worthy of the name of Wise.  Whosoever shall so know himselfe let him boldly make himself knowns by his own mouth. 

THOSE which write the life of Augustas Caesar note this in his military discipline, that he was exceeding liberal and lavish in his gifts to such as were of any desert; but as sparing and strait-handed in meere recompences of honour+.  Yet so it is that himselfe had beene liberally gratified by his Unkle with militarie rewards, before ever he went to warres.  It hath beene a witty invention, and received in most parts of the worlds Common-wealths, to establish and ordaine certaine vaine and worthles markes, therewith to honour and recompence vertue:  As are the wreathes of Lawrell, the Chaplets of Oake, and the Garlands of Myrtle, the forme of a certaine peculiar garment; the privilege to ride in Coach thorow the City; or by night to have a Torch carried before one:  Some particular place to sit in in common assemblies; the prerogatives of certaine surnames and titles, and proper additions in armes, and such like things; the, use whereof hath beene diversly received according to the opinion of nations which continueth to this day.  We have for our part, together with divers of our neighbour-nations, the orders of knighthood, which only were established to this purpose.  Verily it is a most laudable use and profitable custome, to find means to reward the worth and acknowledge the valour of rare and excellent men, to satisfie and content them with such payments as in no sort charge the commonwealth, and put the prince to no cost at all.  And that which was ever knowne by ancient experience, and at other times we have plainly perceived amongst ourselves, that men of qualitie were ever more jealous
<Mont2-65> 

of such recompences than of others wherein was both gaine and profit, which was not without reason and great apparence.  If to the prize, which ought simply to be of honour, there be other commodities and riches joyned, this kinde of commixing, instead of encreasing the estimation thereof, doth empaire, dissipate, and abridge it.  The order of the Knights of Saint Michael in France, which of so long contuauance hath beene in credit amongst as, had no greater commoditie than that it had no manner of communication with any other advantage or profit, which hath heretofore beene the cause that there was no charge or state of what quality soever, whereto the nobilitie pretended with so much desire, or aspired with more affection, as it did to obtaine that order; nor calling that was followed with more respect or greatnesse.  Vertue+ embracing with more ambition, nud more willingly aspiring after a recompense, that is meerely and simply her owne, and which is rather glorious than profitable.  For, to say truth, other gifts have no use so worthy, inasmuch as they are imployed to all manner of occasions. With riches a man doth reward the service of a groome, the diligence of a messenger, the hopping of a dancer, the tricks of a vaulter, the breath of a lawyer+, and the basest offices a man may receive; yea, with the same paultry pelfe mony, vice is payed and sin requited, as flattery, murther, treason, Maquerelage, and what not?  It is then no marvel, if vertue doth lesse willingly desire this kinde of common trash, mony, than that which is only proper and peculiar to her selfe, and is altogether noble and generous. Augustus had therefore reason to be much more niggardly amd sparing of this last than of the former, forasmuch as honour+ is a privilege that draws his preincipall essence from rareness; and so doth verture it selfe.

Cui malus est nemo, quis bonus esse potest?/1

To him who good can seeme,
Who doth none bad esteeme?

     We shall not see a man highly regarded, or extraordinarily commended, that is curiously carefull to have his children well nurtured, because it is a common {usthem+} action, how just and worthy praise soever it be, no more than one great tree, where the forrest is full of such.  I doe not thinke that any Spartane Citizen did boastingly glorifie himselfe for his valour, because it was a popular vertue in that nation, and as, little for his fidelity+ and contempt of riches.  There is no recompence falls unto vertue, how great soever it be, if it once have past into custome; and I wot not whether we might call it great, being common.  Since then the rewards of honour have no other prise and estimation than that few enjoy it, there is no way to disannul them but to make a largesse of them.  Were there now more men found deserving the same than in former ages, yet should not the reputation of it be corrupted.  And it may easily happen that more deserve it, for there is no vertue doth so easily spread it selfe as military valiancie.  There is another true, perfect, and philosophicall, whereof I speake not (I use this word according to our custome), farre greater and more full than this,, which is a force and assurance of the soule, equally contemning all manner of contrarie accidents, upright, uniforme, and constant, whereof ours is but an easie and glimmering raie.  Custome, institution, example and fashion, may effect what ever they list in the establishing of that I speake of, and easily make it vulgare, as may plainely be seene by the experience our civill warres give us of it.  And whosoever could now joyne us together, and eagerly flesh all our people to a common enterprise, we should make our ancient military name and chivalrous credit to flourish againe.  It is most certaine that the recompense of our order did not in former nines only concerne prowis and respect valour; it had a further aime.  It was never the reward or payment of a valiant ssouldier, but of a famous Captaine.  The skill to obey+ could not deserve so honorable an hire; for, cast we back our eyes to antiquity, we shall perceive that for the worthy obtaining 

thereof, there was required more universal warrelike expertnesse, and which might embrace the greatest part, and most parts of a military man. Neque enim eaedem militares et imperatoriae artes sunt, 'For the same arts and parts belong not to a generall and common souldier;' and who besides that should also be of a fit and accommodable condition for such a dignitie. But I say, that if more men should now adayes be found worthy of it than have been heretofore, yet should not ounr princes be more liberall of it, and it had beene much better not to bestow it upon all them to whom it was due, than for ever to lose, as of late we have done, the use of so profitable an invention.  No man of courage vouchsafeth to advantage himselfe of that which is common unto many.  And those which in our dayes bee least merited that honourable recompence, seeme, in all apparence, most to disdaine it, by that meanes place themselves in the ranke of those to whom the wrong is offered by unworthy bestowing and vilifying of that badge which particularly was due unto them.  Now by defacing and abolishing this to suppose, suddenly to be able to bring into credit and renue a semblable custome, is no convenient enterprise in so licentious, so corruptedi and so declining age, as is this wherein we now live.  And it will come to passe that the last shall even from her birth incur the incommodities which have lately ruined and overthrowne the other.  The rules of this new orders dispensation had need to be otherwise wrested and constrained for to give it authority, and this tumultuous season is not capable of a short and ordered bridle.  Besides, before a man is able to give credit unto it, it is requisite a man lose the memory of the first, and of the contempt whereinto it is fallen.  This place might admit some discourse upon the consideration of valour, and difference betweene this virtue and others.  But Plutarch having often spoken of this matter, it were in vaine here for me to repeat what he says of it.  This is worthy to be considered, that our nation giveth the chiefe preheminence of all vertue unto valiancie, as the 

etymology of the word sheweth, which cometh of valour or worth; and that according to our received custome, when after the phrase of our court and nobility we speake of a worthy man, or of an honest man, we thereby inferre no other thing than a valiant man; after the usuall Roman fashion. For the generall denomination of vertue doth amongst them take her etymology of force or might.  The only proper and essentiall forme of our nobility in France is military_vocation+.  It is very likely that the first vertue that ever appeared amongst men, and which to some hath given preheminence over others, hath beene this by which the strongest and most courageous have become masters over the weakest, and purchased a particular ranke and reputation to themselves.  Whereby this honour and dignity of speech is left unto it: or else these nations, being very warlike, have given the price unto that of vertues, which was the worthiest and more familiar unto them.  Even as our passion, and this heart-panting and mind-vexing carefull diligence, and diligent carefulnesse, which we continually apprehend about woman's chastity, causeth also that a good woman, an honest woman, a woman of honour and vertue, doth in effect and substance signifle no other thing unto us than a chaste wife or woman; as if to bind them to this duty, we did neglect all others, and give them free liberty to commit any other fault, to covenant with them never to quit or forsake this duty. 

MADAME, if strangenesse doe not save or novelty shield mee, which are woiat to give things reputation, I shall never, with honesty, quit myselfe of this enterprise yet is it so fantasticall and bears a shew so differient from common custome, that that may haply purchase it free passage.  It is a melancholy humour, and consequently a hatefull enemy to my natural complexion, bred by the anxietie and produced by the anguish of carking care, whereinto some years since I cast myselfe, that first put this humorous conceipt of writing into my head.  And finding myselfe afterward wholy unprovided of subject, and void of other matter, I have presented myselfe unto myselfe for a subject to write and argument to descant upon.  It is the only booke in the world of this kinde, and of a wilde extravagant designe.  Moreover, there is nothing in it worthy the marking but this fantasticalnesse.  For, to so vaine a ground and base a subject, the worlds best workman could never have given a fashion deserving to be accompted of.  Not (worthy Lady) sithence I must pourtray my selfe to the life, I should have forgotten a part of importance, if therewithall I had not represented the honour I have ever yeelded to your deserts, which I have especially beene willing to declare in the forefront of this chapter; Forasmuch as amongst your other good parts and commendable qualities, that of loving amity, which you have shewen to your children, holdeth one of the first rankes.  Whosoever shall understand and know the age, wherein your late
<Mont2-70> 

husband the Lord of Estissac left you a Widdow, the great, and nonorable matches have beene offered you (as worthy and as many as to any other Lady in France of your condition) the constant resolution, and resolute constancie, wherewith so many yeares you have sustained, and even in spight or athwart so manifold thorny difficulties, the charge and conduct of their affaires, which have tossed, turmoyled and removed you in all comers of France, and still hold you besieged; the happy and successfull forwardnes you, which only through your wisdome or good fortune have given them, he will easily say with mee, that in our age we have no patterne of motherly affecttion more exemplarie than yours.  I praise God (Madame) it hathe beene so well employed :  For, the good hopes, which the young Lord of REstissac, your sonne, giveth of himselfe, fore-shew he shall come to an undoubted assurance that when he shall come to yeares of discretion, you shall reape the obedience of a noble, and finde the acknowledgement of a good childe.  But because, by reason of his child-hood, he could not take notice of the exceeding kindnesse and many-fold offices he hath received from you, my meaning is, that if ever these my compositions shall haply one day come into his hands (when-peradventure I shall neither have mouth nor speech to declare it unto him), he receive this testimonie in all veritie from me; which shall also more lively be testified unto him by the good effects, (whereof, if so it please God, be shall have a sensible feeling) that there is no Gentleman in France more endebted to his mother than he; and that hereafter he cannot yeeld a more certaine proofe of his goodnes, and testimonie of his vertue, than in acknowledging and confessing you for such.  If there be any truly-naturall law, that is to say, any instinct, universally and perpetually imprinted, both in beasts and us, (which is not without controversie) I may, according to mine opinion, say, that next to the care which each living creature hath to his preservation, and to flie what doth hurt him, the affection which the engenderer beareth his off-spring holds the second place in this ranke.  And 

forasmuch as nature seemeth to have recommended the same unto us, ayming to extend, encrease, and advance the successive parts or parcels of this her frame; it is no wonder if backagaine it is not so great from children unto fathers.  This other Aristotelian consideration remembred: that hee who doth benefit+ another, loveth him better than hee is beloved of him againe; and hee to whom a debt is owing, loveth better than hee that oweth: And every workman loveth his worke better than hee should bee beloved of it againe, if it had sense or feeling.  Forasmuch as we love to be, and being consisteth in moving and action; therefore is every ma-n, in some sort or other.. in his owne workmanship.  Whosoever doth a good deed, exerciseth a faire and honest action: whosoever receiveth exerciseth only a profitable action.  And profit is nothing so much to be esteemed or loved as honesty+.{PlainDealer+} Honesty is firme and permanent, affording him that did it a constant gratification.  Profit is very slipperie and easily lost, nor is the memorie of it so sweet or so fresh.  Such things are dearest unto us, that have cost us most; and to give is of more cost that to take.  Since it hath pleased God to endow us with some capacitie of discourse, that as beasts we should not servily be subjected to common lawes, but rather with judgement and voluntary liberty apply ourselves unto them; we ought somewhat to yeeld unto the simple auctoritie of Nature, but not suffer her tyranny to carry us away: only reason ought to have the conduct of our inclinations.  As for me, my tast is strangely distasted to its propensions, which in us are produced without the ordinance and direction of our judgement. As upon this subject I speak of, I cannot receive this passion, wherewith some embrace children scarsly borne,. having neither motion in the soule, nor forme well to be distinguished in the body whereby they might make themselves lovely or amiable.  And I could never well endure to have them brought up or nursed neere about me.  A true and well ordered affection ought to be borne and augmented, with the knowledge they owe us of themselves; and 

then, if they deserve it (naturall inclination marching hand in hand with reason) to cherish and make much of them, with a perfect fatherly love and loving friendship, and conformably to judge of them if they be otherwise, alwayes yeelding our selves unto reason, notwithstanding natural power.  For the most part, it goeth cleane contrary, and commonly we feele our selves more moved with the sports, idlenesses wantonnesse, and infant- trifles of our children, than afterward we do with all their actions, when they bee men:  As if we had loved them for our pastimes, as we do apes, monkies, or perokitoes, and not as man.  And some that liberally furnish them with sporting bables while they be children, will miserably pinch it in the least expense for necessaries when they grow men.  Nay, it seemeth that the jelousie we have to see them appeare into, and injoy the world, when we are ready to leave them, makes us more sparing and close-handed toward them.  It vexeth and grieveth us when we see them following us at our heels, supposing they solicite us to be gone hence: {Hal+} And if we were to feare that since the order of things beareth, that they cannot indeed, neither be, nor live, but by our being and life, we should not meddle to be fathers.  As for mee, I deeme it a kind of cruelty and injustice, not to receive them into the share and society of our goods, and to admit them as Partners in the understanding of our domestical affaires (if they be once capable of it and not to cut off and shut-up our commodities to provide for theirs, since we have engendred them to that purpose.  It is meere injustice to see an old, crazed, sinnow-shronken, and nigh dead father sitting alone in a Chimny-corner, to enjoy so many goods as would suffice for the preferment and entertainment of many children, and in the meane while, for want of meanes, to suffer them to lose their best dayes and yeares, without thrusting them into publike service and knowledge of men; whereby they are often cast into dispaire, to seeke, by some way how unlawfull soever to provide for their necessaries.  And in my dayes, I have seene divers yong-men, of 

good houses so given to stealing and filching, that no correction could divert them from it.  I know one very well alied, to whom, at the instance of a brother of his (a most honest, gallant, and vertuous Gentleman) I spake to that purpose, who boldly answered and confessed unto me, that only by the rigor and covetism of his father he had beene forced and driven to fall into such lewdnesse and wickednesse.  And even at that time he came from stealing certaine jewels from a Lady, in whose bed-chamber he fortuned to come with certaine other Gentlemen when she was rising, and had almost beene taken.  He made me remember a tale I had heard of another Gentleman, from his youth so fashioned and inclined to this goodly trade of pilfering that comming afterward to be heire and Lord of his owne goods, resolved to give over that manner of life, could notwithstanding (if he chanced to come neere a shop, where he saw any thing he stood in need of) not chuse but steale the same, though afterward he would ever send mony and pay for it.  And I have seene diverse so inured to that vice, that amongst their companios they would ordinarily steale such things as they would restore againe.  I am a Gascoine, and there is no vice wherein I have lesse skill: I hate it somewhat more by complexion than I accuse it by discourse.  I doe not so much as desire another mans goods.  And although my Countrey-men be indeed somewhat more taxed with this fault than other Provinces of France, yet have we seene, of late dayes, and that sundry times, men well borne and of good parentage in other parts of France, in the hands of justice, and lawfully convicted of many most horrible robberies.  I am of opinion that in regard of these debauches and lewd actions, fathers may, in some sort, be blamed, and that it is only long of them.  And if any shall answer mee, as did once a Gentleman of good worth and understanding, that he thriftily endevoured to hoard up riches, to no other purpose, nor to have any use and commodity of them, than to be honoured, respected and suingly sought unto by his friends and kinsfolke 

and that age having bereaved him of all other forces, it was the only remedy he had left to maintaine himselfe in authority with his houshold, and keepe him from falling into contempyt and disdaine of all the world. And truly according to Aristotle, not only old_age+, but each imbecility, is the promoter and motive of covetousnesse+.  That is something, but it is a remedy for an evill, whereof the birth should have beene hindered, and breeding avoyded.  That father may truly be said miserable that holdeth the affection of his children tied unto him by no other meanes than by the need they have of his helpe, or want of his assistance, if that may be termed affection:  A man should yeeld himselfe respectable by virtue and sufficiency, and amiable by his goodnesse, and gentlenesse of manners. The very cinders of so rich a matter have their value: so have the bones and relics of honourable men, whom we hold in respect and reverence.  No age can be so crazed and drooping in a man that hath lived honourably, but must needs prove venerable, and especially unto his children, whose minds ought so to be directed by the parents, that reason and wisdome, not necessity and need, nor rudenesse and compulsion, may make them know and performe their dutie.

      ------ et errat longe, mea quidem sententia,
Qui imperium credat esse gravius aut stabilius,
Vi quod fit, quam illud quod amicitia adjungitur./1

In mine opinion he doth much mistake,
Who, that command more grave, more firme doth take,
Which force doth get, than that which friendships make.

lightly.  And what education I have had myselfe, the same have l given mv children.  But such is my ill hap,that they dye all very yong: {usthem+} yet hath Leonora my only daughter escaped this misfortune, and attained to the age of six yeares, and somewhat more; for the conduct of whose youth and punishment childish faults (the indulgence of her mother applying it selfe very mildly unto it) was never other meanes used but gentle words. And were my desire frustrate there are diverse other causes to take hold of without reproving my discipline, which I know to be just and naturall. I would also have beene much more religious in that towards male-children, not borne to serve as women and of a freer condition.  I should have loved to have stored their minde with ingenuity and liberty.  I have seene no other effects in rods, but to make childrens mindes more remisse, or more maliciously headstrong.      Desire we to be loved of our children!  Will we remove all occasions from them to wish our death? (although no occasion of so horrible and unnaturall wishes can either be just or excusable) nullum scelus rationem habet, no ill deed hath a good reason.  Let us reasonably accommodate their life with such things as are in our power.  And therefore should not we marry so young that our age do in a manner confound it selfe with theirs.  For, this inconvenience doth unavoidably cast us into many difficulties and encombrances.  This I speake chiefly unto nobility, which is of an idle disposition, or loitering condition, and which (as we say) liveth ony by her lands or rents: for else, where life standeth upon gaine, plurality and company of children is an easefull furtherance of husbandry.  They are as many new implements to thrive, and instruments to grow rich.  I was married at thirty yeares of age and commend the opinion of thirty-five, which is said to be Aristotles.  Plato would have no man married before thirty, and hath good reason to scoffe at them that will defer it till after fifty- five and then marry; and condemneth their breed as unworthy of life and sustenance.  Thales appointed the best limits, who by his 

mother being instantly urged to marry whilest he was young, answered that it was not yet time; and when he came to be old, he said it was no more time.  A man must refuse opportunity to every importunate action.  The ancient Gaules deemed it a shamefull reproach to have the acquaintance of a woman before the age of twenty yeares; and did especially recommend unto men that sought to be trained up in warres the carefull preservation of their maiden-head until they were of good yeares, forsomuch as by losing it in youth, courages are thereby much weakned and greatly empaired, and by coupling with women diverted from all vertuous action. {effeminacy+}

Ma hor congiunto i giovinetta sposa,
Lieto homai de' figli', era invilito
Ne gli afetti di padre et di marito./1

But now conjoyn'd to a fresh-springing spouse,
Joy'd in his children, he was thought-abased,
In passions twixt a sire and husband placed.

land as sea, and doe his prince as good service, in court or elsewhere, as his sonne:  He hath need of all his parts and ought truly to impart them, but so that be forget not himselfe for others:  And to such may justly that answer serve which fathers have commonly in their mouthes: 'I will not put off my clothes before I be ready to go to bed.  But a father over- burthened with yeares and crazed through sicknesse and by reason of weaknesse and want of health barred from the common society of men, doth both wrong himself, injure his, idly and to no use to hoord up and keepe close a great heape of riches and deal of pelfe.  He is in state good enough, if he be wise to have a desire to put off his clothes to goe to bed.  I will not say to his shirt, but to a good warme night gowne, As for other pomp and trash whereof hee hath no longer use or need, hee ought willingly to distribute and bestow them amongst those to whom by naturall degree they ought to belong.  It is reason he should have the use and bequeath the fruition of them, since nature doth also deprive him of them, otherwise without doubt there is both envy and malice stirring.  The worthiest action that ever the Emperour Charles the fifth performed was this, in imitation of some ancients of his quality, that he had the discretion to know that reason commanded us to strip or shift our selves when our cloathes trouble and are too heavy for us, and that it is high time to go to bed when our legs faile us. {usthem+} He resigned his meanes, his greatnesse and Kingdome to his Sonne, at what time he found his former undanted resolution to decay, and force to conduct his affaires to droope in himselfe, together with the glory he had thereby acquired.

Solve senescentem mature sanus equum ne
Peccet ad extremum ridentus, et ilia ducat./1
If you be wise, the horse growne-old betimes cast-off,
Lest he at last fall lame, foulter, and breed a skoffe.

alteration that age doth naturally bring, both to the body and the minde (which in my opinion is equall if the mind hath but one halfe), hath lost the reputation of the most part of the great men in the world.  I have in my dayes both seene and familiarly knowen some men of great authority, whom a man might easily discerne, to be strangely fallen from that ancient sufficiency, which I know by the reputation they had thereby attained unto in their best yeares.  I could willingly for their honors sake have wisht them at home about their own businesse, discharged from all negotiations of the commonwealth and employments of war that were no longer fit for them.  I have sometimes beene familiar in a Gentleman's house, who was both an old man and a widdower, yet lusty of his age.  This man had many daughters marriageable and a sonne grown to mans state and ready to appeare in the world; a thing that drew-on and was the cause of great charges and many visitations, wherein he tooke but little pleasure, not only for the continuall care hee had to save but more by reason of his age, hee had betoken himselfe to a manner of life farre different from ours.  I chanced one day to tell him somewhat boldly (as my custome is) {Kent+} that it would better beseeme him to give us place and resigne his chiefe house to his sonne (for he had no other mannor-house conveniently well furnished), and quietly retire himselfe to some farme of his where no man might trouble him or disturbe his rest, since he could not otherwise avoid our importunitie, seeing the condition of his children; who afterward followed my counsell and found great ease by it.  It is not to be said that they hate any thing given them by such a way of obligation, which a man may not recall againe:  I, that am ready to play such a part, would give over unto them the full possession of my house and enjoying of my good and limited condition as if they should give me occasion, I might repent myself of my gift and revoke my deed. I would leave the use and fruition of all unto them, the rather because it were no longer fit for me to weald the 

same.  And touching the disposing of all matters in grosse, I would reserve what I pleased unto my selfe.  Having ever judged that it must be a great contentment to an aged father, himselfe to direct his children in the government of his household affaires, and to be able whilest himselfe liveth to checks and controule their demeanors, storing them with instruction and advised counsell, according to the experience he hath had of them, and himselfe to address the ancient honour and order of his house in the hands of his successours, and that way warrant himselfe of the hope hee may conceive of their future conduct and or successe.  And to this effect I would not shun their company.  I would not be far from them, but as much as the condition of my age would permit, enjoy and be a partner of their sports, mirths, and feasts.  If I did not continually live amongst them (as I could not well without offending their meetings and hindering their recreation, by reason of the peevish. forwardnesse of my age and the trouble of my infirmities, and also without forcing their rules, and resisting the forme of life I should then follow), I would at least live neere them, in some corner of my house, not the best and fairest in show, but the most easefull and commodious. And not, as some years since I saw a Deane of S.  Hillarie of Poictiers, reduced by reason and the incommoditie of his melancholy to such a continuall solitarinesse, that when I entered into his chamber be had never removed one step out of it in two and twenty yeares before; yet had all his faculties free and easie, onely a rheume excepted that fell into his stomacke.  Scarce once a weeke would he suffer any body to come and see him.  Hee would ever be shut up in his chamber all alone, where no man should come, except a boy, who once a day brought him meat, and who might not tarry there, but as soone as he was in must goe out again.  All his exercise was sometimes to walke up and downe his chamber, aud now and then reade on some booke (for he had some understanding of letters) but obstinately resolved to live and dye in that course, as he did shortly after.  I would endevour by 

a kinde of civil demeanour and milde conversation to breede and settle in my children a true-harty loving friendship, and unfained good will towards me: a thing easily obtained amongst well-borne mindes, For if they prove, or be such surly-furious beasts, or given to churlish disobedience, as our age bringeth forth thousands, they must as beasts be hated, as churls neglected, and as degenerate avoided.  I hate this custome, to forbid children to call their fathers father, and to teach them another strange name, as of more reverence; as if nature had not sufficiently provided for our authoritie. We call God Almighty by the name of father, and disdaine our children should call us so.  I have reformed this fault in mine owne household.  It is also folly and injustice to deprive children, especially being of competent age, of their fathers familiaritie, and ever to shew them a surly, austere, grim, and disdainefall countenance, hoping thereby, to keepe them in awfull feare and duteous obedience.  For it is a very unprofitable proceedingy and which maketh fathers yrkesome unto children, and which is worse, ridiculous. They have youth and strength in their hands, and consequently the breath and favour of the world; and doe with mockery and contempt receive these churlish, fierce, and tyrannical countenances, from a man that hath no lusty bloud left him, neither in his heart nor in his vaines; meere bugbeares, and scar crowes, to scare birdes withall.  If it lay in my power to make my selfe feared, I had rather make my selfe beloved. {tyrant+} There are so many sorts of defects in age, and so much impuissance; it is so subject to contempt, that the best purchase it can make is the good will, love and affection of others. {Koffka+} Commandement and feare are no longer her weapons.  I have knowne one whose youth had beene very imperious and rough, but when he came to mans age, although hee live in as good plight and health as may be, yet he chaseth, he scoldeth, he brawleth, he fighteth, he sweareth, and biteth, as the most boistrous and tempestuous master of France; he frets and consumes hims-elfe 

with carke and care and vigilancy (all which is but a jugling and ground for his familiar to play upon, and cozen him the more) as for his goods, his garners, his cellars, his coffers, yea his purse, whilst himselfe keepes the keyes of them close in his bosome and under his boulster, as charily as he doth his eyes, other enjoy and command the better part of them; whilst he pleaseth and flattereth himselfe with the niggardly sparing of his table, all goth to wracke, and is lavishly wasted in divers corners of his house, in play, in riotous spending, and in soothingly entertaining the accompts or tales of his vaine chasing, foresight, and providing.  Every man watcheth and keepeth sentinell against him, if any silly or heedless servant doe by fortune apply himselfe unto it, he is presently made to suspect him. A quality on which age doth immediately bite of it selfe.  How many times hath he vaunted and applauding himselfe the strict orders of his house, of his good husbandry, of the awe he kept his household in, and of the exact obedience and regardfull reverence he received of all his family, and how cleare-sighted he was in his own businesse:

Ille solus nescit omnia./1

Of all things none but he,
Most ignorant must be.

but whither? onely out of his sight, not out of his house.  The steps of age are so slow, the senses so troubled, the minde so distracted, that he shall live and doe his office a whole year in one same house, and never be perceived.  And when fit time or occasion serveth, letters are produced from farre places, humbly suing and pittifully complayning, with promises to doe better and to amend, by which he is brought into favour and office again.  Doth the master make any bargaine or dispatch that pleaseth not, it is immediately smothered and supressed soon after forging causes, and devising colourable excuses, to excuse the want of execution or answer. No forraine letters being first presented unto him, he seeth but such as are fit for his knowledge. lf peradventure they come into his hands, as he that trusteth some one of his men to reade them unto him, he will presently devise what he thinketh good, whereby they often invent that such a one seemeth to aske him forgivenesse, that wrongeth him by his letter.  To conclude, he never lookes into his owne businesse, but by a disposed, designed and as much as may be pleasing image, so contrived by such as are about him, because they will not stirre up his choler, move his impatience, and exasperate his frowardnesse.  I have seene under different formes many long and constant, and of like effect, economies.  It is ever proper unto women to be readily bent to contradict and crosse their husbands.  They will with might and maine, hand over head, take hold of any colour oG thwart and withstand them: the first excuse they meet with serves them as a plenary justification. I have seene some that would in grosse steale from their husbands to the end (as they told their Confessor) they might give the greater almes.  Trust you to such religious dispensations.  They thinke no libertie to have or managing to possesse sufficient authoritie, if it come from their husbands consent:  They must necessarily usurpe it, either by wily craft or maine force, and ever iniuriouslv, thereby to give it more grace and authoritie. As in my discourse, when it is 

against a poore old man, and for children, then take they hold of this title, and therewith gloriously serve their turne and passion, and as in a common servitude, easily usurpe and monopolize against his government and domination.  If they be men-children, tall, of good spirit, and forward, then they presently suborne, either by threats, force, or favour, both Steward, Bailiffe, Clarke, Receiver, and all the Fathers Officers, and Servant.  Such as have neither wife nor children, do more hardly fall into his mischiefe; but yet more cruelly and unworthily.  Old Cato was wont to say, 'So many servants, so many enemies.  Note whether according to the distance that was between the purity of his age, and the corruption of our times, he did not fore-warne us that wives, children, and servants are to us so many enemies.  Well fits it decrepitude to store us with the sweet benefit of ignorance and unperceiving facility wherewith we are deceived. If we did yeeld unto it, what would become of us?  Doe we not see that even then if we have any suits in lawe, or matters to be decided before Judges, both Lawyers+ and Judges will commonly take part with and favour our childrens causes against us, as men interested in the same?  And if I chance not to spy or plainly perceive how I am cheated, cozoned and beguiled, I must of necessitie discover in the end how I am subject, and may be cheated, beguiled, and cozened.  And shall the tongue of man ever bee able to expresse the ynvaluable worth of a friend+, in comparison of these civill bonds? The lively image and idea whereof I perceive to be among beasts so unspotted. Oh, with what religion doe I respect and observe the same!  If others deceive me, yet do I not deceive my selfe, to esteeme my selfe capable and of power to looke unto my selfe, nor to trouble my braines to yeeld my selfe unto it.  I doe beware and keepe my selfe from such treasons, and cunny- catching in mine owne bosome, not by an unquiet and tumultuary curiosity, but rather by a diversion and resolution.  When I heare the state of any one reported or discoursed of, I ammuse not my 

selfe on him, but presently cast mine eyes on my selfe, and all my wits together, to see in what state I am, aud how it goeth with me.  Whatsoever concerneth him, the same hath relation to me.  His fortunes forewarne me, and summon up my spirits that way; There is no day nor houre but we speake that of others we might properly speake of ourselves, could we as well enfold as we can infold our consideration. {common+} And many authours doe in this manner wound the protection of their cause by over- rashly running against that which they take hold of, thirling such darts at their enemies that might with much more advantage be cast at them.  The Lord of Montluc, late one of the Lord Marshals of France, having lost his sonne, who died in the Iland of Madera, a worthy, forward and gallant young gentleman, and truely of good hope, amongst other his griefes and regrets did greatly move me to condole the infinite displeasure and hearts- sorrow that he felt, inasmuch as he had never communicated and opened himselfe vnto him: for, with his austere humour and continuall endevouring to hold a grimme-stern-fatherly gravity over him, he had lost the meanes perfectly to finde and throughly to know his sonne, and so to manifest vnto him the extreme affection he bare him, and the worthy judgement he made of his vertue. 'Alas,' was he wont to say, 'the poore lad saw never anything in me but a severe-surly countenance, full of disdaine, and haply was possessed with this conceit, that I could neither love nor esteeme him according to his merits.  Ay- me, to whom did I reserve, to discover that singular and loving affection which in my soule I bare vnto him?  Was it not he that should have had all the pleasure and acknowledgenient thereof?  I have forced and tormented my selfe to maintaine this vaine maske, and have vtterly lost the pleasure of his conversation, and therwithal his good will, which surely was but faintly cold towards me, forsomuch as he never received but rude entertainement of me, and never felt but a tyrannicall proceeding in me towards him.  I am of opinion his complaint was reasonable and well 

grounded.  For, as I know by certaine experience, there is no comfort so sweet in the losse of friends, as that our owne knowledge or conscience tels vs we never omitted to tell them everything, and expostulate all matters vnto them, and to have had a perfect and free communication with them. Tell me, my good friend, am I the better or the worse by having a taste of it?  Surely I am much the better.  His griefe doth both comfort and honour mee.  Is it not a religious and pleasing office of my life for ever to make the obsequies thereof?  Can there be any pleasure worth this privation? I doe vnfold and open my self as much as I can to mine owne people, and willingly declare the state of my will and judgment towards them, as commonly I doe towards all men:  I make haste to produce and present my selfe, for I would have no man mistake me, in what part soever.  Amongst other particular customes which our ancient Gaules had as Caesar affirmeth), this was one, that children never came before their fathers, nor were in any publike assembly seene in their company, but when they began to beare armes: as if they would infer that then was the time fathers should admit them to their acquaintance and familiarity.  I have also observed another kinde of indiscretion in some fathers of our times, who during their owne life would never be induced to acquaint or impart vnto their children that share or portion which, by the Law of Nature, they were to have in their fortunes: nay, some there are who, after their death, bequeath and commit the same auctority over them and their goods, vnto their wives, with full power and law to dispose of them at their pleasure.  And my selfe have knowen a Gentleman, a chiefe officer of our crowne, that by right and hope of succession (had he lived unto it) was to inherit above fifty thousand crownes a yeere good land, who at the age of more then fifty yeeres, fell into such necessity and want, and was run so farre in debt, that he had nothing left him, and, as it is supposed, died for very need: whilest his mother, in her extreme decrepitude, enjoyed all 

his lands and possessed all his goods, by vertue of his fathers will and testament, who had lived very neere foure-score years: a thing (in my conceit) no way to be commended, but rather blamed.  Therefore doe I thinke that a man but little advantaged or bettered in estate who is able to liue of himselfe, and is out of debt, especially if he have children, and goeth about to marry a wife that must have a great joynter out of his lands, assuredly there is no other debt that brings more ruine vnto houses than that.  My predecessors have commonly followed this counsell, and so have I, and all have found good by it.  But those that disswade vs from marrying of rich wives, lest they might proove over disdainefull and peevish, or lesse tractable and loving, are also deceived to make vs neglect and for-goe a reall commoditie for so frivolous a conjecture, To an vnreasonable woman, it is all one cost to her whether they passe vnder one reason or vnder another. 'They love to be where they are most wronged.  Injustice doth allure them, as the honour of their vertuous actions enticeth the good.  And by how much richer they are, so much more milde and gentle are they; as more willingly and gloriously chaste, by how much fairer they are.  Some colour of reason there is, men should leave the administration of their goods and affaires vnto mothers whilest their children are not of competent age, or fit according to the lawes to manage the charge of them:  And ill hath their father brought them vp, if he cannot hope, these comming to yeares of discretion, they shal have no more wit, reason, and sufficiencie, than his wife, considering the weaknesse of their sexe.  Yet truly were it as much against nature so to order things that mothers must wholy depend on their childrens discretion.  They ought largely and competently to be provided wherewith to maintaine their estate according to the quality of their house and age: because 'need and want is much more unseemely and hard to he indured in women than in men:' And children rather than mothers ought to be charged therewith.  In generall, my opinion is that the best 

distribution of goods is, when we die, to distribute them according to the custome of the Country.  The lawes have better thought vpon them than we:  And better is it to let them erre in their election than for vs rashly to hazard to faile in ours.  They are not properly our owne, since without vs, and by a civil prescription, they are appointed to certaine successours.  And albeit we have some further liberty, I thinke it should be a great and most apparent cause to induce vs to take from one, and barre him from that which Fortune hath allotted him, and the common lawes and Justice hath called him unto:  And that against reason we abuse this liberty, by suting the same unto our priuate humours and frivolous fantasies.  My fortune hath beene good, inasmuch as yet it never presented me with any occasions that might tempt or divert my affections from the common and lawful ordinance.  I see some towards whom it is but labour lost, carefully to endevour to doe any good offices.  A word ill taken defaceth the merit of ten yeeres.  Happy he that, at this last passage, is ready to sooth and applaud their will.  The next action transporteth him; not the best and most frequent offices, but the freshest and present worke the deede.  They are the people that play with their wils and testaments as with apples and rods, to gratify or chastize every action of those who pretend any interest thereunto.  It is a matter of over-long pursute, and of exceeding consequence, at every instance to be thus dilated, and wherein the wiser sort establish themselves once for all, chiefely respecting reason and publike observance.  We somewhat over-much take these masculine substitutions to hart, and propose a ridiculous eternity unto our names.  We also over-weight such vaine future conjectures, which infant-spirits give vs.  It might peradventure have beene from out my rancke, because I was the dullest, the slowest, the unwillingest, the most leaden-pated to learn my lesson or any good, that ever was not onely of all my brethren, but of all the children in my countrie, were the lesson concerning 

my exercise of the minde or body.  It is follie to trie any extraordinarie conclusions vpon the trust of their divinations+, wherein we are so often deceived.  If this rule may be contradicted, and the destinies corrected, in the choice they have made of our heires, with so much more apparence, may it be done in consideration of some remarkable and enormous corporall deformtie; a constant and incorrigible vice; and according to vs great esteemers of beautie; a matter of important prejudice.  The pleasant dialogue of Plato the law-giver, with his citizens, will much honour this passage: "Why then,' say they, perceiving their end to approach, 'shall we not dispose of that which, is our owne towhom and according as we please?  O Gods, what cruelty is this?  That it shall not be lawfull for us to give or bequeath more or lesse, according to our fantasies, to such as have served us, and taken paines with us in our sicknesses, in our age, and in our business? To whom the law-giver answereth in this manner: 'My friends,' saith he, 'who doubtlesse shall shortly die, it is a hard matter for you both to know yourselves and what is your's according to the Delphike inscription: As for me, who am the maker of your lawes, I am of opinion that neither yourselves are your owne, nor that which you enjoy. {property+} And both you and your goods, past and to come, belong to your familie; and, moreover, both your families and your goods are the common_wealths+.  Wherefore, lest any flatterer, either in your age or in time of sickness, or any other passion, should unadvisedly induce you to make any unlawfull conveyance or unjust will and testament, I will looke to you and keepe you from it. But having an especiall respect both to the universall interest of your Citie, and particular state of your houses, I will establish lawes, and by reason make you perceive and confesse that a particular commoditie ought to yeeld to a publike benefit.  Follow that course meerely whereto humane necessitie doth call you.  To me it belongeth, who have no more regard to one thing than to another, and who, as much as I can, take care for the general, to 

have a regardful respect of that which you leave behind you.  But to return to my former discourse, me thinkes we seldome see that woman borne to whom the superioritie or majestie over men is due, except the motherly and naturall; unlesse it be for the chastisement of such as by some fond-febricitant humour have voluntarily submitted themselves unto them:  But that doth nothing concerne old women, of whom we speake here.  It is the apparence of this consideration hath made us to frame and willingly to establish this law (never seene elsewhere) that barreth women from the succession of this crowne, and there are few principalities in the world where it is not alleaged, as wel as here, by a likely and apparent reason, which authoriseth the same.  But fortune hath given more credit unto it in some places than in other some.  It is dangerous to leave the dispensation of our succession unto their judgement, according to the choyse they shall make of their children, which is most commonly unjust and fantasticall.  For the same unrulie appetite and distasted relish, or strange longings, which they have when they are great with child, the same have they at al times in their minds.  They are commonly seene to affect the weakest, the simplest and most abject, or such, if they have any, that had more need to sucke. For, wanting reasonable discourse to chuse, and embrace what they ought, they rather suffer themselves to be directed where nature's impressions are most single as other creatures, which take no longer knowledge of their yonng ones than they are sucking.  Moreover, experience doth manifestly shew unto us that the same naturall affection to which we ascribe so much authoritie, hath but a weake foundation.  For a very small gaine we daily take mothers owne children from them and induce them to take charge of ours.  Doe we not often procure them to bequeath their children to some fond, filthie, sluttish, and unhealthie nurce, to whom we would be very loth to commit ours, or to some brutish goat, not onely forbidding them to nurce and feed their owne children, what danger soever 

may betide them, but also to have any care of them, to the end they may the more diligently follow and carefully attend the service of ours? Whereby wee soone see through custome a certaine kinde of bastard affection to be engendered in them, more vehement than the naturall, and to be much more tender and carefull for the welfare and preservation of other men's children than for their owne.  And the reason why I have made mention of goats is, beeause it is an ordinarie thing round about me where I dwell to see the countrie women, when they have not milke enough to feed their infants with their owne breasts, to call for goats to helpe them.  And myselfe have now two lackies wayting on me, who except it were eight daies never suck't other milk than goats.  They are presently to come at call and give young infants sucke, and become so well acquainted with their voice that when they heare them crie they runne forthwith unto them.  And if by chance they have any other child put to their teats then their nurseling, they refuse and reject him, and so doth the child a strange goat.  Myselfe saw that one not long since, from whom the father tooke a goat, which he had sucked two or three daies, because he had but borrowed it of one of his neighbours, who could never be induced to sucke any other, whereby he shortly died, and, as I verily thinke, of meere hunger. {usthem+} Beasts, as well as we, doe soon alter, and easily bastardize their naturall affection. I believe that in that which Herodotus reporteth of a certaine province of Libia, their often followeth great error and- mistaking.  He saith that men doe indifferently use, and as it were in common frequent women, and that the childe, as soone as he is able to goe, comming to any solemne meetings and great assemblies, led by a naturall instinct, findeth out hes owne father; where being turned loose in the middest of the multitude, looke what man the childe: doth first addresse his steps unto, and then goe to him, the same is ever afterward reputed to be his right father. Now if we shall duly consider this simple occasion of loving our children, because we have 

begotten them, for which we mu them our other selves; it seemes there is another production coming from us, and which is of no lesse recommendation and consequence.  For what we engender by the minde, the fruits of our courage, sufficiencie, or spirit, are brought forth by a far more noble part than the corporall, and more our owne.  We are both father and mother together in this generation; such fruits cost us much dearer and bring us more honour, and chiefly if they have any good or rare thing in them.  For the value of our other children is much more theirs than ours.  The share we have in them is but little, but of these all the beautie, all the grace, and all the worth is ours.  And therefore do they represent and resemble us much more lively than others.  Plato addeth, moreover, that these are immortant issues, and immortalize their fathers, yea and desire them, as Licurgus, Solon, and Minos.  All histories being full of examples of this mutuall friendship of fathers toward their children, I have not thought it amisse to set downe some choice ones of this kinde.  Heliodorus, that good Bishop of Tricea, loved rather to lose the dignity, profit, and devotion of so venerable a prelateship than to forgoe his daughter, a young woman to this day commended for her beautie, but haply somewhat more curiously and wantonly pranked up than beseemed the daughter of a churchman and a Bishop, and of over-amorous behaviour.  There was one Labienus, in Rome, a man of great worth and authority, and amongst other commendable qualities, most excellent in all manner of learning, who, as I thinke, was the sonne of that great Labienus, chiefe of all the captaines that followed and were under Caesar in the warres against the Gaules, and who afterward taking great Pompey's part, behaved himselfe so valiantly and so constantly, that he never forsooke him untill Caesar defeated hm@ in Spaine.  This Labienus, of whom I spake, had many that envied his vertues: but above all, as it is likely, courtiers, and such as in his time were favored of the Emperors, who hated his franknesse,{PlainDealer+} his fatherly humors, and distaste he bare 

still against tyrannie, wherewith it may be supposed he had stuffed his bookes and compositions.  His adversaries vehemently pursued him before the magistrate of Rome, and prevailed so far that many of his works which he had published were condemned to be burned.  He was the first on whom this new example of punishment was put in practice, which after continued long in Rome, and executed on divers others, to punish learning, studies, and writings with death and consuming fire.  There were neither means enough, or matter sufficient of crueltie, unlesse we had entermingled among them things which nature hath exempted from all sense and sufferance, as reputation, and the inventions of our minde: and except we communicated corporall mischiefs unto disciplines and monuments of the muses.  Which losse Labienus could not endure, nor brooke to survive those his deare and highly-esteemed issues, and therefore caused himselfe to be carried, and shut up alive within his authors monument, where, with a dreadlesse resolution, he at once provided both to kill himselfe and be buried together.  It is hard to shew any more vehement fatherly affection than that.  Cassius Severus, a most eloquent man, and his familiar friend, seeing his bookes burnt, exclaimed, that by the same sentenee hee should therewithall be condemned to be burned alive, for hee still bare and kept in minde what they contained in them. A like accident happened to Geruntius Cordus, who was accused to have commended Brutus and Cassius in his bookes.  That base, senile, and corrupted Senate, and worthie of a farre worse master than Tiberius, adjudged his writings, to be consumed by fire; and he was pleased to accompany them in their death, for he pined away by abstaining from all manner of meat.  That notable man Lucane, being adjudged by that lewd varlet, Nero, to death, at the latter end of his life, when al his bloud was well-nigh spent from out the veins of his arme, which by his physician he had caused to be opened to hasten his death, and that a chilling cold began to seize the uttermost parts of his 

limbes, and approach his vital spirits, the last thing he had in memory was some of his owne verses, written in his booke of the Pharsalian warres, which with a distinct voice hee repeated, and so yeelded up the ghost, having those last words in his mouth.  What was that but a kinde, tender, and fatherly farewell which he tooke of his children? representing the last adiewes, and parting embracements, which at our death we give vnto our dearest issues?  And an effect of that naturall inclination, which in that last extremity puts us in minde of those things which in our life we have held dearest and most precious?  Shall we imagine that Epicurus, who (as himselfe said) dying tormented with the extreme paine of the chollik, had all his comfort in the beauty of the doctrine which he left behinde him in the world, would have received as much contentment of a number of well-borne and better-bred children (if he had had any) as he did of the production of his rich compositions?  And if it had beene in his choise, to leave behind him either a counterfeit, deformed, or ill-borne childe, or a foolish, triviall, and idle booke, not onely he, but all men in the world besides of like learning and sufficiency, would much rather have chosen to incurre the former than the latter mischiefe.  It might peradventure be deemed impiety in Saint Augustine (for example- sake) if on the one part one should propose unto him to bury all his bookes, whence our religion receiveth so much good, or to interre his children of in case he had any) that he would not rather chuse to bury his children, or the issue of his loynes, than the fruits of his minde.  And I wot not well, whether my selfe should not much rather desire to beget and produce a perfectly-well-shaped and excellently-qualited infant, by the acquaintance of the Muses than by the acquaintance of my wife.  Whatsoever I give to this, let the world allow of it as it please, I give it as purely and irrevocable as any man can give it to his corporall children.  That little good which I have done him is no longer in my disposition.  He may know many things that my selfe know no 

longer, and hold of me what I could not hold my selfe: and which (if need should require) I must borrow of him as of a stranger.  If I be wiser than be, he is richer than I.  There are few men given unto Poesie that would not esteeme it for a greater honour to be the fathers of Virgils AEneidos than of the goodliest boy in Rome, and that would not rather endure the losse of the one than the perishing of the other.  For, according to Aristotle, 'Of all workemen, the Poet is principally the most amorous of his productions and conceited of his Labours.  It is not easie to be beleeved that Epaminondas, who wanted to leave some daughters behind him, which unto all posterity, should one day highly honour their father (they were the two famous victories which be had gained of the Lacedemonians) would ever have given his free consent to change them with the best-borne, most gorgeous, and goodliest damsels of all Greece: or that Alexander and Caesar did ever wish to be deprived of the greatnesse of their glorious deeds of warre, for the commodity to have children and heires of their owne bodies, how absolutely-perfect and well accomplished so ever they might be.  Nay, I mahe a great question whether Phidias, or any other excellent Statuary, would as highly esteeme and dearely love the preservation and successfull continuance of his naturall children, as be would an exquisite and matchlesse-wrought Image, that with long study and diligent care he had perfected according unto art.  And as concerning those vicious and furious passions which sometimes have inflamed some fathers to the love of their daughters, or mothers towards their, sonnes, the very same and more partially-earnest is also found in this other kinde of childe-bearing and aliance.  Witnesse that which is reported of Pigmalion, who having curiously framed a goodly statue of a most singularly-beauteous woman, was so strange- fondly and passionately surprised with the lustfull love of his owne workmanship that the Gods through his raging importunity were faine in favour of him to give it life. 

Tentatum mollescit ebur, positogue rigore
Subsidit digitis./1

As he assaid it, th' ivory softned much,
And (hardnesse left) did yeeld to fingers touch.

OF THE PARTHIANS ARMES IT is a vitious, fond, fashion of the Nobility and Gentry of our age, and full of nice-tendernesse, never to betake themselves to armes, except upon some urgent and extreme necessitie: and to quit them as soone as they perceive the least hope or apparence that the danger is past; Whence ensue many disorders, and inconveniences:  For, every one running and calling for his armes when the alarum is given, some have not yet buckled their cuirace when their fellowes are already defeated.  Indeed our forefathers would have their Caske, Lance, Gantlets, and Shields carried, but so long as the service lasted, themselves would never leave-off their other peeces. Our troopes are now all confounded and disordered, by reason of bag and baggage, of carriages of lackies, and foot-boies, which because of their masters armes they carry, can never leave them.  Titus Livius, speaking of the French, saith, Intolerantissima laboris corpora vix arma humeris gerebant:  Their bodies most impatient of labour could hardly beare armour on their backes. /1 Divers Nations, as they did in former times, so yet at this day, are seene to goe to the warres, without any thing about them, or if they had, it was of no defence; but were all naked and bare.

Tegmina quas capitum raptus de subere cortex./2

Whose caske to cover all their head,
Was made of barke from Corke-tree flea'd.

that ever was, did very seldome arme himselfe:  And those which amongst us neglect them, doe not thereby much empaire their reputation.  If any man chance to be slaine for want of an armour, there are as many more that miscarry with the over-heavy burthen of their armes, and by them are engaged, and by a counterbutte are brused, or otherwise defeated.  For in truth to see the unweildy weight of our and their thicknesse, it seemeth we but endevour to defend our selves, and we are rather charged than covered by them.  We have enough to doe to endure the burthen of them, and are so engived and shackled in them, as if we were to fight but with the shocke or brunt of our armes, and as if we were as much bound to defend them as they to shield us. {Agincourt+} Cornelius Tacitus doth pleasantly quip and jest at the men of war of our ancient Gaules, so armed, only to maintaine themselves, as they that have no meane either to offend or to be offended, or to raise themselves being overthrowne.  Lucullus seeing certaine Median men at armes, which were in the front of Tigranes Army, heavily and unweildily armed, as in an iron prison, apprehended thereby an opinion that he might easily defeat them, and began to charge them first, and got the victory.  And now that our Muskettiers, are in such credit, I thinke we shall have some invention found to immure us up, that so we may be warranted from them, and to traine us to the warres in Skonces and Bastions, as those which our fathers caused to be carried by Elephants.  A humour farre different from that of Scipio the younger, who sharply reprooved his souldiers because thy had scattered certaine Calthrops under the water alongst a dike, by which those of the Towne that he had besieged might sally out upon him, saying, that those which assailed should resolve to enterprise and not to feare:  And had some reason to feare that this provision might secure and lull their vigilancy asleepe to guard themselves.  Moreover he said to a young man, that shewed him a faire shield he had, 'Indeed good youth, it is a faire one; but a Roman souldier ought to have more confidence in his 

right hand than in his left.  It is onely custome that makes the burthen of our armes intolerable unto us.

L'usbergo in dosso haveano, e l'elmo in testa,
Due di quelli guerrier dei quali io canto.
Ne notte o di dopo ch'entraro in questa
Stanza, gl'haveano mai messi da canto;
Che facile a portar come la resta
Era lor, perche in vso l'havean tanto.

Cuirasse on backe did those two warriors beare,
And caske on head, of whom I make report,
Nor day, nor night, after they entred there,
Had they them laid aside from their support
They could with ease them as a garment weare,
For long time had they usde them in such sort.

men far.  Marcellinus, a man well trained in the Roman wars, doth curiously observe the manner which the Parthians used to arme themselves, and noteth it so much the more by how much it was far different from the Romans.  They had (saith he) certaine armes so curiously enter-wrought as they seemed to be made like feathers, which nothing hindered the stirring of their, bodies and yet so strong, that our darts hitting them did rather rebound, or glance by, than hurt them (they be the scales our ancestors were so much wont to use).  In another place they had (saith he) their horses stiffe and strong, covered with thick hides, and themselves armed from head to foot with massie iron plates so artificially contrived that where the joynts are there they furthered the motion and helped the stirring.  A man would have said they had been men made of yron, for they had peeces so handsomly fitted, and so lively representing the forme and parts of the face, that there was no way to wound them but at certaine little holes before their eyes, which served to give them some light, and by certaine chinkes about their nostrils by which they hardly drew breath.

Flexilis inductis animator lamina nembris,
Horribilis visu, credas simulacra moveri
Ferrea, cognatoque viros spirare metallo.
Par vestitus equis, ferrata fronte minantur,
Ferratosque movent securi vulneris armos/1

The bending plate is hook't on limbes orespread,
Fearefull to fight, steele images seem'd lead,
And men to breathe in mettall with them bred,
Like furniture for horse, with steeled head,
They threat, and safe from wound,
With barr'd limbs tread the ground.

I MAKE no doubt but it shall often befall me to speake of things which are better, and with more truth, handled by such as are their crafts-masters. Here is simply an essay of my natural faculties, and no whit of those that I have acquired.  And he that shall task me with ignorance shall have no great victory at my hands; for hardly could I give others reasons for my discourses that give none unto my selfe, and am not well satisfied with them.  He that shall make search after knowledge, let him seek it where it is: there is nothing I professe lesse. {PlainDealer+} These are but my fantasies by which endevour not to make things known, but my selfe. They may haply one day be knowne unto me, or have bin at other times, according as fortune hath brought me where they were declared or manifested.  But I remember them no more.  And if I be a man of some reading, yet I am a man of no remembering.  I conceive no certainty, except it bee to give notice how farre the knowledge I have of it doth now reach.  Let no man busie himselfe about the matters, but on the fashion I give them.  Let that which I borrow be surveied, and then tell me whether I have made good choice of ornaments to beautifie and set foorth the invention which ever comes from mee.  For I make others to relate (not after mine owne fantastie, but as it best falleth out) what I cannot so well expresse either through unskill of language or want of judgement.  I number not my borrowings, but I weigh them. {ancients+} And if I would have made their number to prevail, I would have had twice as many.  They are
<Mont2-101> 

all, or almost all, of so famous and ancient names that me thinks they sufficiently name themselves without mee.  If in reasons, comparisons, and arguments, I transplant any into my soile, or confound them with mine owne, I purposely conceale the author, thereby to bridle the rashnesse of these hastie censures that are so headlong cast upon all manner of compositions, namely young writings of men yet living; and in vulgare that admit all the world to talke of them and which seemeth to convince the conception and publike designs alike.  I will have them to give Plutarch+ a bob upon mine own lips, and vex themselves in wronging Seneca+ in mee.  My weaknesse must be hidden under such great credits.  I will love him that shal trace or unfeather me; I meane through clearenesse of judgement, and by the onely distinction of the force and beautie of my discourses.  For my selfe, who for want of memorie am ever to seeke how to trie and refine them by the knowledge of their country, knowe perfectly, by measuring mine owne strength, that my soyle is no way capable of some over-pretious flowers that therein I find set, and that all the fruits of my increase could not make it amends. This am I bound to answer for if I hinder my selfe, if there be either vanitie or fault in my discourses that I perceive not or am not able to discerne if they be showed me.  For many faults do often escape our eyes; but the infirmitie of judgement consisteth in not being able to perceive them when another discovereth them unto us.  Knnowledge and truth may be in us without judgement, and we may have judgement without them yea, the acknowledgement of ignorance is one of the best and surest testimonies of judgement that I can finde. {Socrates+} {PlainDealer+} I have no other sergeant of band to marshal] my rapsodies than fortune.  And looke how my humours or conceits present themselves, so I shuffle them up.  Sometimes they prease thicke and three fold, and other times they come out languishing one by one.  I will have my naturall and ordinarie pace seen as loose and shuffling as it is.  As I am so go I on plodding.  And 

besides, these are matters that a man may not be ignorant of, and rashly and casually to speake of them.  I would wish to have a more perfect understanding of things, but I will not purchase it so deare as it cost.  My intention is to passe the remainder of my life quietly and not laboriously, in rest and not in care.  There is nothing I will trouble or vex myself about, no not for science it selfe, what esteeme soever it be of.  I doe not search and tosse over books but for an honester recreation to please, and pastime to delight my selfe: or if I studie, I only endevour to find out the knowledge that teacheth or handleth the knowledge of my selfe, and which may instruct me how to die_well+ and how to live well.

Has meus ad metas sudet oportet equus./1

My horse must sweating runne,
That this goale may be wonne.

Greeke_books+, forasmuch as my understanding cannot well rid his worke with a childish and apprentise intelligence.  Amongst moderne bookes meerly pleasant, I esteeme Bocace+ his Decameron, Rabelais+, and the kisses of John the second (if they may be placed under this title), worth the paines-taking to reade them.  As for Amadis+ and such like trash of writings, they had never the credit so much as to allure my youth to delight in them.  This I will say more, either boldly or rashly that this old and beavie-pased minde of mine will no more be pleased with Aristotle+, or tickled with good Ovid+: his facility and quaint inventions, which heretofore have so ravished me, they can now a days scarcely entertaine me.  I speake my minde freely of all things, yea, of such as peradventure exceed my sufficiencie, and that no way I hold to be of my jurisdiction.  What my conceit is of them is told also to manifest the proportion of my insight, and not the measure of things.  If at any time I finde my selfe distasted of Platoes Axiochus, as of a forceles worke, due regard had to such an Author, my judgement doth nothing beleeve it selfe:  It is not so fond-hardy, or selfe-conceited, as it durst dare to oppose it selfe against the authority of so many other famous ancient judgements, which he reputeth his regents and masters, and with whom hee had rather erre.  He chafeth with, and condemneth himselfe, either to rely on the superficiall sense, being unable to pierce into the centre, or to view the thing by some false lustre.  He is pleased only to warrant himselfe from trouble and unrulinesse:  As for weaknesses he acknowledgeth and ingeniously avoweth the same.  He thinks to give a just interpretation to the apparences which his conception presents unto him, but they are shallow and imperfect.  Most of Aesopes+ fables have divers senses, and severall interpretations:  Those which inlythologize them, chose some kiude of colour well sutirig with the fable; but for the most part, it is no other than the firstand superficiall glosse:  There are others more quicke, more siniaowie, more essentiall, and more internall, into which they could 

never penetrate; and thus thinke I with them.  But to follow my course., I have ever deemed that in Poesie, Virgil, Lucretius, Catullus, and Horace, doe doubtles by far hold the first ratike: and especially @ir@ in his Georgiks, which I esteeme to be the most accomplished peece of.worke of Poesie:  In comparison of which one may easily discerne, that there are some passages in the AEneidos to which the Author (had he lived) would no doubt have given some review or correction:  The fifth booke whereof is (in my minde) the most absolutely perfect.  I also love Lucan+, and willingly read him, not so much for his stile, as for his owne worth and truth of his opinion and judgement.
As for good Terence, I allow the quaintnesse and grace of his Latine tongue, and judge him wonderfull conceited and apt, lively to represent the motions and passions of the minde, and the condition of our manners: our actions make me often remember him.  I can never reade him so often but still I discover some new grace and beautie in him.  Those that lived about Virgil's time, complained that some would compare Lucretius unto him.  I am of opinion that verily it is an unequall comparison; yet can I hardly assure my seffe in this opinion whensoever I finde my selfe entangled in some notable passage of Lucretius.  If they were moved at this comparison, what would they say now of the fond, hardy and barbarous stupiditie of those which now adayes compare Ariosto unto him?  Nay, what would Ariosto say of it himselfe?

O seclum insipiens et infacetum.

O age that hath no wit,
And small conceit in it.

Terence, that the father of the Roman eloquence, of men of his quality doth so often make mention of him; and the censure which the chiefs Judge of the Roman Poets giveth of his companion.  It hath often come unto my minde, how such as in our dayes give themselves to composing of comedies (as the Italians who are very happy in them) employ three or foure arguments of Terence and Plautus to nake up one of theirs.  In one onely comedy they will huddle up five or six of Bocaces tales.  That which makes them so to charge themselves with matter, is the distrust they have of their owne sufficiency, and that they are not able to undergoe so heavie a burthen with their owne strength.  They are forced to finde a body on which they may rely and leane themselves: and wanting matter of their owne wherewith to please us, they will have the story or tale to busie and ammuse us: where as in my Authors it is cleane contrary:  The elegancies, the perfections and ornaments of his manner of speech, make us neglect and lose the longing for his subject.  His quaintnesse and grace doe still retaine us to him. He is every where pleasantly conceited,

Liquidus puroque simillimus amni,/1

So clearely-neate, so neately-cleare,
As he a fine-pure River were,

Epigrams, than all the sharpe quips and witty girds wherewith Martiall doth whet and embellish the conclusions of his.  It is the same reason I spake of erewhile, as Martiall of himselfe.  Minus illi ingenio laborandum fuit, in cuius locum materia successerat:/1  'He needed the less worke with his wit, in place whereof matter came in supply.' The former without being moved or pricked cause themselves to be beard lowd enough: they have matter to laugh at every where, and need not tickle themselves; where as these must have foraine helpe: according as they have lesse spirit, they must have more body.  They leape on horse- backe, because they are not sufficiently strong in their legs to march on foot.  Even as in our dances, those base conditioned men that keepe dancing schooles, because they are unfit to represent the port and decencie of our nobilitie, endevour to get commendation by dangerous lofty trickes, and other strange tumbler-like friskes and motions.  And some Ladies make a better shew of their countenances in those dances, wherein are divers changes, cuttings, turnings, and agitations of the body, than in some dances of state and gravity, where they need but simply to tread a naturall, measure, represent an unaffected cariage, and their ordinary grace; And as I have also seene some excellent Lourdans, or Clownes, attired in their ordinary workyday clothes, and with a common homely countenance, affoord us all the pleasure that may be had from their art: but prentises and learners that are not of so high a forme, besmeare their faces, to disguise themselves, and in motions counterfeit strange visages and antickes, to enduce us to laughter.  This my conception is no where better discerned than in the comparison betweene Virgils AEneidos and Orlando Furioso.  The first is seene to soare aloft with full-spread wings, and with so high and strong a pitch, ever following his point; the other faintly to hover and flatter from tale to tale, and as it were skipping from bough to bough, alwayes distrusting his owne wings, except it be for some short
-----
1 MART.  Praef. 1. viii. 

flight, and for feare his strength and breath should faile him, to sit downe at every fields-end;

Excursusque breves tentat./1

Out-lopes sometimes he doth assay,
But very short, and as he may.

common use, but in my conceit more proper particular, and more solid. It appeareth in Seneca that he somewhat inclineth and yeeldeth to the tyrannie of the Emperors which were in his daies; for I verily believe, it is with a forced judgement he condemneth the cause of those noblie-minded murtherers of Caesar; {Brutus+} Plutarke is every where free and open hearted; Seneca fullfraught with points and sallies; Plutarke stuft with matters.  The former doth move and enflame you more; the latter content, please, and pay you better:  This doth guide you, the other drive you on!  As for Cicero, of all his works, those that treat of Philosophie (namely morall) are they which best serve my turne, and square with my intent.  But boldly to confess the truth (for, since the bars of impudencie were broken downe, all curbing is taken away), his manner of writing seemeth verie tedious unto me, as doth all such like stuffe.  For his prefaces, definitions, divisions, and Etymologies consume the greatest part of his works; whatsoever quick, wittie, and pithie conceit is in him is surcharged and confounded by those his long and far-fetcht preambles.  If I bestow but one hour in reading them, which is much for me, and let me call to minde what substance or juice I have drawne from him, for the most part I find nothing but wind and ostentation in him; for he is not yet come to the arguments which make for his purpose, and reasons that concerne the knot or pith I seek after.  These Logicall and Aristotelian ordinances are not availfull for me who onely endeavour to become more wise and sufficient and not more wittie or eloquent.  I would have one begin with the last point; I understand sufficiently what death and voluptuousuesse are: let not a man busie himselfe to anatomize them. At the first reading of a booke I seeke for good and solid reasons that may instruct me how to sustaine their assaults.  It is neither grammaticall subtilties or logicall quiddities, nor the wittie contexture of choice words or arguments and syllogismes, that will serve my turne. {PlainDealer+} I like those discourses that give the first charge to the strongest part of the doubt; 

his are but flourishes, and languish everywhere.  They are good for schooles, at the barre, or for Orators and Preachers, where we may slumber: and though we wake a quarter of an houre after, we may finde and trace him soone enough. Such a manner of speech is fit for those judges that a man would corrupt by hooke or crooke, by right or wrong, or for children and the common people, unto whom a man must tell all, and see what the event would be.  I would not have a man go about and labour by circumlocutions to induce and winne me to attention, and that (as our Heralds or Criers do) they shall ring out their words:  Now heare me, now listen, or ho-yes.  The Romanes in their religion were went to say, 'Hoc age;' which in ours we say, 'Sursum corda. There are so many lost words for me.  I come readie prepared from my house. I neede no allurement nor sawce, my stomacke is good enough to digest raw meat:  And whereas with these preparatives and flourishes, or preambles, they thinke to sharpen my taste or stir my stomacke, they cloy and make it wallowish.  Shall the privilege of times excuse me from this sacrilegious boldnesse, to deeme Platoes Dialogismes to be as languishing, by overfilling and stuffing his matter?  And to bewaile the time that a man who had so many thousands of things to utter, spends about so many, so long, so vaine, and idle interlocutions, and preparatives?  My ignorance shall better - excus me, in that I see nothing in the beautie of his language.  I generally enquire after bookes that use sciences, and not after such as institute them.  The two first, and Plinie, with others of their ranke, have no Hoc age in them, they will have to doe with men that have forewarned themselves; or if they have, it is a materiall and substantiall Hoc age, and that hath his bodie apart.  I likewise love to read the Epistles and ad Atticum, not onely because they contains a most ample instruction of the historic and affaires of his times, but much more because in them I descrie his private humours.  For (as I have said elsewhere) I am wonderfull curious to discover and know the minde, the soul the genuine 

disposition and naturall judgement of my authors.  A man ought to judge their sufficiencie and not their customes, nor them by the show of their writings, which they set forth on this world's theatre.  I have sorrowed a thousand times that ever we lost the booke that Brutus+ writ of Vertue. Oh it is a goodly thing to learne the Theorike of such as understand the practice well.  But forsomuch as the Sermon is one thing and the Preacher an other, I love as much to see Brutus in Plutarke+ as in himself:  I would rather make choice to know certainly what talk he had in his tent with some of his familiar friends, the night fore-going the battell, than the speech he made the morrow after to his Armie and what he did in his chamber or closet, than what in the senate or market place.  As for Cicero+, I am of the common judgement, that besides learning there was no exquisite eloquence in him:  He was a good citizen, of an honest, gentle nature, as are commonly fat and burly men: for so was he:  But to speake truly of him, full of ambitious vanity and remisse niceness.  And I know not well how to excuse him, in that be deemed his Poesie worthy to be published.  It is no great imperfection to make bad verses, but it is an imperfection in him that he never perceived how unworthy they were of the glorie of his name.  Concerning his eloquence, it is beyond all comparison, and I verily beleeve that none shall ever equall it.  Cicero the younger, who resembled his father in nothing but in name, commanding in Asia, chanced one day to have many strangers at his board, and amongst others, one Caestius sitting at the lower end, as the manner is to thrust in at great mens tables:  Cicero inquired of one of his men what he was, who told him his name, but he dreaming on other matters, and having forgotten what answere his man made him, asked him his name twice or thrice more: the servant, because he would not be troubled to tell him one thing so often, and by some circumstance to make him to know him better, 'It is,' said he, 'the same Caestius of whom some have told you that, in respect of his owne, maketh no accompt of your fathers eloquence:' 

Cicero being suddainly mooved, commanded the said Caestius to be presently taken from the table, and well whipped in his presence:  Lo heere an uncivill and barbarous host.  Even amongst those which (all things considered) have deemed his eloquence matchlesse and incomparable, others there have been who have not spared to note some faults in it.  As great Brutus+ said, that it was an eloquence broken, halting, and disjoynted, fractam et elumbem. 'Incoherent and sinnnowlesse.  Those Orators that lived about his age, reproved also in him the curious care he had of a certaine long cadence at the end of his clauses, and noted these words, esse videatur, which he so often useth.  As for me, I rather like a cadence that falleth shorter, cut like Iambikes: yet doth he sometimes confounde his numbers, but it is seldome: I have especially observed this one place;
Ego vero me minus diu senem esse mallem, quam esse senem, antequam essem:/1  'But I had ather not be an old man, so long as I might be, than to be old before I should be.'    Historians are my right hand, for they are pleasant and easie; and therewithall the man with whom I desire generally to be acquainted may more lively and perfectly be discovered in them than in any other composition: the varietie and truth of his inward conditions, in grosse and by retale: the diversitie of the meanes of his collection and composing, and of the accidents that threaten him.  Now those that write of mens lives, forasmuch as they ammuse and busie themselves more about counsels than events, more about that which commeth from within than that which appeareth outward; they are fittest for me: And that's the reason why Plutarke above all in that kind doth best please me.  Indeed I am not a little grieved that we have not a dozen of Laertius, or that be is not more knowne, or better understood; for I am no lesse curious to know the fortunes and lives of these great masters of the world than to understand the diversitie of their decrees and conceits.  In this kind of studie of historie a man must, without distinction, tosse and - ---- CIC.  De Senect. 

turne over all sorts of Authors, both old and new, both French and others, if he will learne the things they so diversly treat of.  But me thinkes that Caesar+ above all doth singularly deserve to be studied, not onely for the understanding of the historie as of himselfe; so much perfection and excellencie is there in him more than in others, although Salust be reckoned one of the number.  Verily I read that author with a little more reverence and respects than commonly men reade profane and humane Workes: sometimes considering him by his actions and wonders of his greatnesse, and other times waighing the puritie and inimitable polishing and elegancie of his tongue, which (as Cicero saith) hath not onely exceeded all historians, but haply Cicero+ himselfe: with such sinceritie in his judgement, speaking of his enemies, that except the false colours wherewith he goeth about to cloakebis bad cause, and the corruption and filthinesse of his pestilent ambition, I am perswaded there is nothing in him to be found fault with: and that he hath been over-sparing to speake of himselfe; for so many notable and great things could never be executed by him, unlesse he bad put more of his owne into them than be setteth downe.  I love those Historians that a-re either very simple or most excellent.  The simple who have nothing of their owne to adde unto the storie and have but the care and diligence to collect whatsoever come to their knowledge, and sincerely and faithfully to register all things, without choice or culling, by the naked truth leave our judgment more entire and better satisfied.  Such amongst others (for examples sake) plaine and well-meaning Froissard+, who in his enterprise hath marched with so free and genuine a puritie, that having committed some oversight, he is neither ashamed to acknowledge nor afraid to correct the same, wheresoever h hath either notice or warning of it: and who representeth unto us the diversitie of the newes then current and the diferent reports that were made unto him.  The subject of an historie should be naked, bare, and formelesse; each man according to his capacitie or 

understanding may reap commoditie out of it.  The curious and most excellent have the sufficiencie to cull and chuse that which is worthie to be knowne and may select of two relations that which is most likely: from the condition of Princes and of their humours, they conclude their counsels and attribute fit words to them: they assume a just authoritie and bind our faith to theirs.  But truly that belongs not to many.  Such as are betweene both (which is the most common fashion), it is they that spoil all; they will needs chew our meat for us and take upon them a law to judge, and by consequence to square and encline the storie according to their fantasie; for, where the judgement bendeth one way, a man cannot chose but wrest and turne his narration that way.  They undertake to chuse things worthy to bee knowne, and now and then conceal either a word or a secret action from us, which would much better instruct us: omitting such things as they understand not as incredible: and haply such matters as they know not how to declare either in good Latin or tolerable French.  Let them boldly enstall their eloquence and discourse:  Let them censure at their pleasure, but let them also give us leave to judge after them:  And let them neither alter nor dispense by their abridgements and choice anything belonging to the substance of the matter; but let them rather send it pure and entire with all her dimensions unto us.  Most commonly (as chiefly in our age) this charge of writing histories is committed unto base, ignorant, and mechanicall kind of people, only for this consideration that they can speake well; as if we sought to learne the Grammer of them; and they have some reason, being only hired to that end, and publishing nothing but their tittle-tattle to aime at nothing else so much.  Thus with store of choice and quaint words, and wyre drawne phrases, they huddle up and make a hodge-pot of a laboured contexture of the reports which they gather in the market places or such other assemblies.  The only good histories are those that are written by such as commanded or were 

imploied themselves in weighty affaires or that were partners in the conduct of them, or that at least have had the fortune to manage others of like qualitie.  Such in a manner are all the Graecians and Romans.  For many eyewitness having written of one same subject it hapned in those times when Greatnesse and Knowledge did commonly meet) if any fault or oversight have past them, it must be deemed exceeding light and upon some doubtfull accident.  What may a man expect at a Phisitians hand that discourseth of warre, or of a bare Scholler treating of Princes secret designes?  If we shall but note the religion which the Romans had in that, wee need no other example:  Asinus Pollio found some mistaking or or oversight in Caesars Commentaries, whereinto he was faine, only because he could not possiblie oversee all things with his owne eyes that hapned in his Armie, but was faine to rely on the reports of particular men, who often related untruths unto him; or else because he had not been curiously advertised and distinctly enformed by his Lieutenants and Captaines of such matters as they in his absence had managed or affected.  Whereby may be seen that nothing is so hard or so uncertaine to be found out as the certaintie of the truth, sithence no man can put any assured confidence concerning the truth of a battel, neither in the knowledge of him that was Generall or commanded over it, nor in the soldiers that fought, of anything that hath hapned amongst them; except after the manner of a strict point of law, the severall witnesses are brought and examined face to face, and that all matters be nicely and thorowly sifted by the objects and trials of the successe of every accident. Verily the knowledge we have of our owne affaires is much more barren and feeble.  But this hath sufficiently been handled by Bodin, and agreeing with my conception.  Somewhat to aid the weaknesse of my memorie and to assist her great defects; for it hath often been my chance to light upon bookes which I supposed to be new and never to have read, which I had not understanding diligently read and ran over 

many years before, and all bescribled with my notes:  I have a while since accustomed my selfe to note at the end of my booke (I meane such as I purpose to read but once) the time I made an end to read it, and to set downe what censure or judgement I gave of it; that so it may at least at another time represent unto my mind the aire and generall idea I bad conceived of the author in reading him.  I will here set downe the Copie of some of my annotations, and especially what I noted upon my Guicciardine about ten yeares since (For what language soever my books speake unto me I speake unto them in mine owne.) He is a diligent Historiographer and from whom in my conceit a man may as exactly learne the truth of such affaires as passed in his time, as of any other writer whatsoever and the rather because himselfe hath been an Actor of most part of them and in verie honourable place.  There is no signe or apparance that ever be disguised or coloured any matter, either through hatred, malice, favour, or vanitie; whereof the free and impartiall judgements he giveth of great men, and namely of those by whom he had been advanced or imployed in his important charges, as of Pope Clement the seaventh, beareth undoubted testimony.  Concerning the parts wherein be most goeth about to prevaile, which are his digressions and discourses, many of them are verie excellent and enriched with faire ornaments, but he hath too much pleased himselfe in them: for endeavouring to omit nothing that might be spoken, having so full and large a subject, and almost infinite, he proveth somewhat languishing, and giveth a taste of a kind of scholasticall tedious babling.  Moreover, I have noted this, that of so severall and divers armes, successes, and effects he judgeth of; of so many and variable motives, alterations, and counsels, that be relateth, he never referreth any one unto vertue, religion, or conscience as if they were all extinguished and banished the world: {morality_of_history+} and of all actions how glorious soever in apparance they be of themselves, he doth ever impute the cause of them to some vicious and blame-worthie 

occasion, or to some commoditie and profit.  It is impossible to imagine that amongst so infinite a number of actions whereof he judgeth, some one have not been produced and compassed by way of reason.  No corruption could ever possesse men so universally but that some one must of necessity escape the contagion; which makes me to feare he hath had some distaste or blame in his passion, and it hath haply fortuned that he hath judged or esteemed of others according to himselfe.  In my Philip de Comines there is this: In him you shall find a pleasing-sweet and gently-gliding speech, fraught with a purely sincere simplicitie, his narration pure and unaffected, and wherein the Authours unspotted good meaning doth evidently appeare, void of all manner of vanitie or ostentation speaking of himselfe, and free from all afection or envie-speaking of others; his discourses and perswasions accompanied more with a well-meaning zeale and meere veritie than with any laboured and exquisite sufficiencie, and allthrough with gravitie and authoritie, representing a man well-borne and brought up in high negotiations. Upon the menioires and historie of Monsieur du Bellay.  It is ever a well-pleasing thing to see matters written by those that have assaid how and in what manner they ought to be directed and managed: yet can it not be denied but that in both these Lords there will manifestly appeare a great declination from a free libertie of writing, which clearely shineth in ancient writers of their kind: as in the Lord of Iouinille, familiar unto Saint Lewis; Eginard, Chancellor unto Charlemaine; and of more fresh memorie in Philip de Comines.  This is rather a declamation or pleading for king Francis against the Emperour Charles the fifth, than an Historie.  I will not beleeve they have altered or changed any thing concerning the generalitie of matters, but rather to wrest and turne the judgement of the events many times against reason, to our advantage, and to omit whatsoever they supposed to be doubtful or ticklish in their masters life: they have made a business of it: witnesse the recoylings of the 

Lords of Momorancy and Byron, which therein are forgotten; and which is more, you shall not so much as find the name of the Ladie of Estampes mentioned at all.  A man may sometimes colour and haply hide secret actions, but absolutely to conceal that which all the world knoweth, and especially such things as have drawne-on publike effects, and of such consequence, it is an inexcusable defect, or as I may say unpardonable oversight.  To conclude, whosoever desireth to have perfect information and knowledge of king Francis the first, and of the things hapned in his time, let him addresse himselfe elsewhere if he will give any credit unto me.  The profit he may reap here is by the particular description of the battels and exploits of warre wherein these gentlemen were present; some privie conferences, speeches, or secret actions of some princes that then lived, and the practices managed, or negotiations directed by the Lord of Langeay, in which doubtless are verie many things well worthy to be knowne, and diverse discourses not vulgare. 

METHINKS Virtue+ is another manner of thing, and much more noble than the inclinations unto Goodnesse, which in us are engendered.  Mindes wellborne, and directed by themselves, follow one same path, and in their actions represent the same visage that the vertuous doe.  But Vertue importeth and soundeth somewhat I wot not what greater and more active than by an happy complexion, gently and peaceably, to suffer itself to be led or drawne to follow reason.  He that through a naturall facilitie and genuine mildnesse should neglect or contemne injuries received, should no doubt performe a rare action, and worthy commendation: but he who being toucht and stung lo the quicke with any wrong or offence received, should arme himselfe with reason against this furiously blind desire of revenge, and in the end after a great conflict yeeld himselfe master over it, should doubtlesse doe much more.  The first should doe well, the other vertuously: the one action might be termed Goodnesse, the other Vertue.  For it seemeth that the very name of Vertue presupposeth difficulties and inferreth resistance, and cannot well exercise itselfe without an eneniie.  It is peradventure the reason why we call God good, mightie, liberall, and just, but we term him not vertuous.  His workes are all voluntarie, unforced, and without compulsion.  Of Philosophers, not only Stoicks, but also Epicureans (which phrasing I borrow of the common received opinion, which is false, whatsoever the nimble saying or wittie quipping of Arcesilaus implied, who answered the man that upbraided him, how divers men went from his schoole to the Epicureans, but none came
<Mont2-119>

from thence to him:  I easily beleeve it (said he) for of cocks are many capons made, but no man could ever make a cock of a capon.  For truly in constancie opinion and strictnesse of precepts, the Epicurean_sect+ doth in no sort yeeld to the Stoicke+.  And a Stoike acknowledging a better faith than those disputers who, to contend with Epicurus and make sport with him, make him to infer and say what he never meant, wresting and wyre-drawing his words to a contrarie sense, arguing and silogizing, by the grammarians privilege, another meaning, by the manner of his speech and another opinion than that they knew he had either in his minde or manners, saith that he left to be an Epicurean for this one consideration amongst others, that he findeth their pitch to be over high and inaccessible:

Et ii qui otzOovot vocantur, sunt pt

JwaXOL et OiXo8imatot omnesque virtutes et colunt et retinent:/1

the peevish frowardnesse of his wife, than which no essay can be more vexfull, and is a continuall fighting at the sharpe.  Metellus of all the Roman senators he onely having undertaken with the power of vertue, to endure the violence of Saturninus Tribune of the people in Rome, who by maine force went about to have a most unjust law passe in favour of the Communaltie: by which opposition, having incurred all the capital paines that Saturninus had imposed on such as should refuse it, entertained those that led him to the place of execution, with such speeches:  That to doe evill was a thing verie easie, and too demissely base, and to doe well where was no danger, was a common thing, but to doe well where was both perill and opposition, was the peculiar office of a man of vertue. {Kent+} These words of Metellus doe clearly represent unto us what I would have verified ; which is, that vertue rejecteth facilitie to be her companion: And that an easefull, pleasant, and declining way by which the regular steps of a good inclination of nature are directed is not the way of true vertue.  She requireth a craggie, rough, and thornie way. {Donne+} She would either have strange difficulties to wrestle withall (as that of Metellus) by whose meanes fortune her selfe is pleased to breake the roughnesse of his course; or such inward incombrances as the disordinate appetites and imperfections of our condition bring unto her.  Hitherto I have come at good ease; but at the end of this discourse one thing commeth into my minde, which is that the soule of Socrates+, which is absolute the perfectest that ever came to my knowledge, would, according to my accompt, prove a soule deserving but little commendation:  For I can conceive no manner of violence or vicious concupiscence in him:  I can imagine no manner of difficultie or compulsion in the whole course of his vertue.  I know his reason so powerfull, and so absolute mistress over him, that she can never give him way in any vicious desire, and will not suffer it so much as to breed in him.  To a vertue so exquisite and so high raised as his is, I can perswade nothing. Me thinks I see it march with a victorious 

and triumphant pace, in pompe and at ease, without let or disturbance. If vertue cannot shine but by resisting contrarie appetites, shall we then say it cannot passe without the assistance of vice, and oweth him this, that by his meanes it attaineth to honour and credit?  What should also betide of that glorious and generous Epicurean voluptuousnesse that makes accompt effeminately to pamper vertue in her lap, and there wantonly to entertains it, allowing it for her recreation, shame, reproch, agues, povertie, death, and tortures? if I presuppose that perfect vertue is knowne by combating sorrow and patiently undergoing paine, by tolerating the fits and agonies of the gout, without stirring out of his place; if for a necessarie object I appoint her sharpnesse and difficultie, what shall become of that vertue which hath attained so high a degree, as it doth not only despise all manner of paine, but rather rejoyceth at it, and when a strong fit of the collike shall assaile it, to cause it selfe to be tickled, as that is which the Epicureans have established, and whereof divers amongst them have by their actions left most certaine proofes unto us?  As also others have, whom ill effect finde to have exceeded the verie rules of their discipline; witnesseCato+ the younger; when I see him die, tearing and mangling his entrails, I cannot simply content my selfe to beleeve that at that time he had his soule wholly exempted from all trouble or free from vexation:  I cannot imagine be did only maintaine himselfe in this march or course which the rule of the Stoike sect had ordained unto him, setled, without alteration or emotion, and impassible.  There was, in my conceit, in this mans vertue overmuch cheerefulnesse and youthfulnesse to stay there.  I verily beleeve he felt a kind of pleasure and sensualitie in so noble an action, and that therein he more pleased himself than in any other be ever performed in his life.  Sic abiit e vita, ut causam moriendi nactum se esse gauderet:/1 'So departed be his life, that he rejoiced to have found an occasion of death.' I doe so constantly beleeve it,
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. i. 

that I make a doubt whether be would have had the occasion of so noble an exploit taken from him.  And if the goodnesse which induced him to embrace publike commodities more than his owne did not bridle me, I should easily fall into this opinion, that he thought himselfe greatly beholding unto fortune to have put his vertue unto so noble a triall, and to have favoured that robber to tread the ancient libertie of his countrie under foot.  In which action me thinks I read a kinde of unspeakable joy in his minde, and a motion of extraordinary pleasure, joined to a manlike voluptuonsnesse, at what time it beheld the worthinesse, and considered the generositie and haughtinesse of his enterprise,

Deliberata morte ferocior/1

Then most in fiercenesse did he passe,
When he of death resolved was,

death+ should be such as the life hath been.  By dying we become no other than we were.  I ever interpret a mans death by his life.  And if a man shall tell me of any one undanted in apparance, joyned unto a weake life; I imagine it to proceed of some weake cause, and sutable to his life.  The ease therefore of his death, and the facilitie he had acquired by the vigor of his minde, shall we say, it ought to abate something of the lustre of his vertue? And which of those that have their spirits touched, be it never so little, with the true tincture of Philosophie, can content himselfe to imagine Socrates, onely, free from feare and passion, in the accident of his imprisonment, of his fetters, and of his condemnation?  And who doth not perceive in him, not onely constancie+ and resolution (which were ever his ordinarie qualities) but also a kinde of I wot not what new contentment, and carelesse rejoycing in his last behaviour, and discourses?  By the startling at the pleasure, which he feeleth in clawing of his legges, after his fetters were taken-off; doth he not manifestly declare an equal glee and joy in his soule for being rid of his former incommodities, and entering into the knowledge of things to come?  Cato shall pardon me (if he please) his death is more tragicall, and further extended, whereas this in a certaine manner is more faire and glorious.  Aristippus answered those that bewailed the same, 'When I die, I pray the Gods send me such a death.  A man shall plainly perceive in the minds of these two men, and of such as imitate them (for I make a question whether ever they could be matched) so perfect an habitude unto vertue, that it was even converted into their complexion.  It is no longer a painefull vertue, nor by the ordinances of reason, for the maintaining of which their minde must be strengthened:  It is the verie essence of their soule; it is her naturall and ordinarie habit.  They have made it such, by a long exercise and observing the rules and precepts of Philosophic, having lighted upon a faire and rich nature.  Those vicious passions which breed in us finde no entrance in them.  The vigor and con- 

stancie of their soules, doth suppresse and extinguish all manner of concupiscences so soone as they but begin to move.  Now that it be not more glorious, by an undaunted and divine resolution, to hinder the growth of temptations, and for a man to frame himselfe to vertue, so that the verie seeds of vice be cleane rooted out; than by mayne force to hinder their progresse; and having suffred himselfe to be surprised by the first assaults of passions, to arme and bandie himselfe, to stay their course and to suppresse them:  And that this second effect be not also much fairer than to be simply stored with a facile and gentle nature, and of it selfe distasted and in dislike with licentiousnesse and vice, I am perswaded there is no doubt. For this third and last manner seemeth in some sort to make a man innocent, but not vertuous: free from doing ill, but not sufficiently apt to doe well.  Seeing this condition is so neere unto imperfection and weaknesses that I know not well how to cleare their confines and distinctions.  The verie names of goodnesse and innocencie, are for this respect in some sort names of contempt.  I see that many vertues, as chastitie, sobrietie, and temperance, may come unto us by meanes of corporall defects and imbecilities. Constancie in dangers (if it may be termed constancie) contempt of death, patiencie in misfortunes, may happen and are often seen in men, for want of good judgeent in such accidents, and that they are not apprehended for such as they are indeed.  Lacke of apprehension and stupiditie counterfeit vertuous effects.  As I have often seen come to passe, that some men arc commended for things they rather deserve to be blamed.  An Italian gentleman did once hold this position in my presence, to the prejudice and disadvantage of his nation; That the subtiltie of the Italians, and the vivacitie of their conceptions was so great that they foresaw such dangers and accidents as might betide them so far-off that it was not to be deemed strange if in times of warre they were often seene to provide for their safetie, yea, before they had perceived the danger:  That we and the 

Spaniards, who were not so warie and subtill, went further; and that before we could be frighted with any perill, we must be induced to see it with our eyes, and feel it with our hands, and that even then we had no more hold:  But that the Germanes and Switzers, more shallow and leaden-headed, had scarce the sense and wit to re-advise themselves, at what times they were even overwhelmed with miserie, and the axe readie to fall on their heads.  It was peradventure but in jest that be spake-it, yet is it most true that in the art of warre-fare new trained souldlers, and such as are but novices in the trade, doe often headlong and hand over head cast themselves into dangers, with more inconsideration than afterward when they have seene and endured the first shocks, and are better trained in the schoole of perils.

      ------ haud iqnarus, quantum nova gloria in armis,
Et praedulce decus primo certamine possit.

Not ignorant, how much in armes new praise,
And sweetest honour, in first conflict weighes.

have gon hard with me: for, I could never perceive any great constancie in my soule, to resist and undergoe passions, had they been any thing violent. I cannot foster quarels, or endure contentions in my house.  So am I not greatly beholding unto my selfe, in that I am exempted from many vices:

      ------ si vitiis mediocribus, et mea paucis
Mendosa est natura, alioqui recta, velut si
Egregio inspersos reprehendas corpore naevos./1

If in a few more faults my nature faile,
Right otherwise: as if that you would raile
On prettie moles well placed,
On bodie seemely graced:

Seu Libra, seu me Scorpius aspicit
Formidolosus, pars violentior
Natalis horae, seu tyrannus
Hesperiae Capricornus undae/2

Whether the chiefe part of my birth-houre were
Ascendent Libra, or Scorpius full of feare,
Or in my Horoseope were Capricorne,
Whose tyrannie neere westerne seas is borne:

could ever make me alter the same: no, not mine owne discourses, which, because they have been somewhat lavish in noting or taxing something of the common course, could easily induce me to some actions which this my naturall inclination makes me to hate.  I will tell you a wonder, I will tell it you indeed:  I thereby find in many things more stay and order in my manners than in my opinion: and my concupiscence lesse debauched than my reason.  Aristippus established certaine opinions so bold, in favour of voluptuousnesse and riches, that he made all Philosophie to mutinie against him.  But concerning his manners, Dionysius the tyrant, having presented him with three faire young wenches, that he might chuse the fairest, he answered he would chuse them all three, and that Paris had verie ill successes forsomuch as be had preferred one above her fellowes.  But they being brought to his owne house, he sent them backe againe, without tasting them.  His servant one day carrying store of money after him, and being so overcharged with the weight of it that he complained, his master commanded him to cast so much thereof away as troubled him.  And Epicurus, whose positions are irreligious and delicate, demeaned himselfe in his life very laboriously and devoutly.  He wrote to a friend of his, that he lived but with browne bread and water, and entreated him to send him a piece of cheese, against the time he was to make a solemne feast.  May it be true, that to be perfectly good we must be so by an hidden, naturall, and universall proprietie, without law, reason, and example?  The disorders and excesses wherein I have found my selfe engaged are not (God be thanked) of the worst.  I have rejected and condemned them in my selfe, according to their worth; for my judgement was never found to be infected by them.  And on the other side, I accuse them more rigorously in my selfe than in another.  But that is all: as for the rest, I applie but little resistance unto them, and suffer my selfe over-easily to encline to the other side of the ballance, except it be to order and empeach them from being 

commixt with others, which (if a man take not good heed unto himselfe) for the most part entertaine and enterchaine themselves the one with the other.  As for mine, I have, as much as it hath laine in my power, abridged them, and kept them as single and as alone as I could:

     -----nec ultra,
Errorem foveo/1

Nor doe I cherish any more,
The error which I bred before.

by any apprentiship.  The innocericie that is in me is nde of simple-plaine innocencie, ivitbout vigor or art.  Amongst all other vices, there is none I hate more than Crueltie, both by nature and judgement, as the extremist of all vices. {Prospero+} But it is with such an yearning and faint-hartednesse, that if I see but a chickins necke puld off, or a pigge stickt, I cannot chuse but grieve, and I cannot well endure a seelie dewbedabled hare to groane when she is seized upon by the houndes, although hunting be a violent pleasure.  Those that are to withstand voluptuousnesse doe willingly use this argument, to shew it is altogether vicious and unreasonable:  That where she is in her greatest prime and chiefe strength, she doth so over-sway us, that reason can have no accesse unto us, and for a further triall, alleage the experience wee feel and have of it in our acquaintance with women.

      ------cum iam praesagit gaudia corpus
Atque in eo est Venus, ut muliebria conserat arva./1

When now the bodie doth light-joyes fore-know,
And Venus set the womans fields to sow.

a man to weare out a whole night, in all opportunitie and libertie, in companie of a faire mistresses long time before sued-unto, and by him desired; religiously keeping his word, if be have engaged himselfe, to be contented with simple kisses and plaine touching.  I am of opinion that the example of the sport in hunting would more fit the same: wherein as there is lesse pleasure, so there is more distraction and surprising, whereby our reason being amazed, looseth the leasure to prepare her selfe against it: when as after a long game, the beast doth suddenly start, or rowse up before us, and haply in such a place where we least expected the same. That suddaine motion and the earnestnesse of showting, jubeting and hallowing, still ringing in our eares, would make it verie hard for those who love that kind of close or chamber-hunting, at that verie instant, to withdraw their thoughts elsewhere.  And poets make Diana victoriously to triumph both over the firebrand and arrowes of Cupid.

Quis non malarum quas amor curas habet
Haec inter obliviscitur/1

While this is doing, who doth not forget
The wicked cares wherewith Love's heart doth fret?

about to witnesse the clemencie of lulius Caesar; 'He was,' saith he, 'tractable and milde in matters of revenge.  Having compelled the pirates to yeeld themselves unto him, who had before taken him prisoner and put him to ransome, forasmnch as he had threatned to have them all crucified, he condemned them to that kind of death, but it was after he had caused them to be strangled.  Philemon his secretarie, who would have poysoned him, had no sharper punishment of him than an ordinarie death.  Without mentioning the Latin Author, who for a testimonie of clemencie, dared to alleage the onely killing of those by whom a man hath been offended, it may easily be guessed that he is tainted with vile and horrible examples of cruelties such as Romane Tyrants brought into fashion.  As for me, even in matters of justice, whatsoever is beyond a simple death, I deeme it to be meere crueltie: and especiall amongst us, who ought to have a regardfull respect that their soules should be sent to heaven, which cannot be, having first by intolerable tortures agitated, and as it were brought them to dispaire.  A souldier, not long since, being a prisoner, and perceiving from a loft a tower, where he was kept, that store of people flocked together on a greene, and carpenters were busie at worke to erect a skaffold, suppposing the same to be for him, as one desperat, resolved to kill himselfe, and searching up and downe for something to make himselfe away, found nothing but an old rustie cart-naile, which fortune presented him with; he tooke it, and therewithall, with all the strength he had, strooke and wounded himselfe twice in the throat, but seeing it would not rid him of life, he then thrust it into his bellie up to the head, where he left it fast- sticking.  Shortly after, one of his keepers coming in unto him, and yet living, finding him in that miserable plight, but weltring in his goare-blood and readie to gaspe his last, told the Magistrates of it, which, to prevent time before he should die, hastned to pronounce sentence against him: which when he heard, and that he was onely condemned to have his 

head cut off, he seemed to take heart of grace againe, and to be sorie for what be had done, and tooke some comfortable drinks, which before be had refused, greatly thanking the Judges for his unhoped gentle condemnation: And told them, that for feare of a more, sharply-cruell, and intolerable death by law, he had resolved to prevent it by some violent manner of death, having by the preparations he had seen the carpenters make, and by gathering of people together, conceived an opinion that they would torture him with some horrible torment, and seemed to be delivered from death onely by the change of it.  Were I worthie to give counsell, I would have these examples of rigor, by which superior powers goe about to keep the common people in awe, to be onely exercised on the bodies of criminall malefactors: {usthem+} For, to see them deprived of Christian buriall, to see them haled, disbowelled, parboyled, and quartered, might haply touch the common sort as much as the paines they make the living to endure: howbeit in effect it be little or nothing, as saith God,  Qui corpus occidunt, et postea non habent quod faciant./1 'Those that kill the bodie', but have afterwards no more to doe:' And Poets make the horror of this picture greatly to prevaile, yea, and above death,

Heu reliquias semiassi Regis, denudatis ossibus,
Per terram sanie delibutas foede divexarier./2

O that the reliques of an halfe burnt King, bones bared,
On earth besmear'd with filth, should be so fouly marred.

be exercised against the rinde, and not practised against the quicke. In a case somewhat like unto this, did Artaxerxes asswage and mitigate the sharpnesse of the ancient lawes of Persia, appointing that the Lords which had trespassed in their estate, whereas they were wont to be whipped, they should be stripped naked, and their clothes whipped for them; and where they were accustomed to have their haire pulled off, they should onely have their hat taken off.  The Aegyptians, so devout and religious, thought they did sufficiently satisfie divine Justice, in sacrificing painted and counterfeit hogges unto it:  An over-hardy invention to go about with pictures and shadowes to appease God, a substance so essentiall and divine. I live in an age wherein we abound with incredible examples of this vice, through the licentiousnesse of our civill and intestine warres: and read all ancient stories, be they never so tragicall, you shall flnd none to equall those we daily see practised.  But that hath nothing made me acquainted with it.  I could hardly be perswaded before I had seene it, that the world could have afforded so marble-hearted and savage-minded men, that for the onely pleasure of murther would commit it; then cut, mangle, and hacke other members in pieces to rouze and sharpen their wits, to invent unused tortures and unheard-of torments: to devise new and unknowne deaths, and that in cold blood, without any former enmitie or quarrell, or without any gaine or profit; and onely to this end, that they may enjoy the pleasing spectacle of the languishing gestures, pitifull notions, horror-moving yellings, deep fetcht groanes, and lamentable voyces of a dying and drooping man.  For that is the extremest point whereunto the crueltie of man may attaine.  Ut homo hominem, non iratus, non timens, tantum spectaturus occidat;/1 'That one man should kill another, neither being angrie nor afeard, but onely to looke on.  As for me, I could never so much as endure, without remorse or griefe, to see a poore, sillie, and innocent beast pursued and killed, which is
-----
1 SEN.  Clem. 1. ii. c. 4. 

harmlesse and void of defence, and of whom we receive no offence at all.  And as it commonly hapneth, that when the Stag begins to be embost, and finds his strength to faile him, having no other remedie left him, doth yeeld and bequeath himselfe unto us that pursue him, with teares suing to us for mercie:

      ------ questque cruentus
Atque imploranti similis:/1

With blood from throat, and teares from eyes,
It seemes that he for pittie cryes:

      ------ primoque a caede ferarum
Incaluisse puto maculatum sanguine ferrum./2

And first our blades in blood embrude deeme
With slaughter of poore beasts did reeking steeme.

I say it hath some reason to injoyne us to shew some respect and affection towards them.  Pythagoras borrowed etempsychosis of the AEgyptians, but since it hath been received of divers Nations, and especially of our Druides:

Morte carent animae, semperique priore relicta
Sede, novis domibus vivunt, habitantque receptae./1

Our death-lesse soules, their former seats refrained,
In harbors new live and lodge entertained.

      ----  muta ferarum
Cogit vincla pati truculentos ingerit ursis,
Praedonesque lupis, fallaces vilpibus addit.
Atque per varios annos per mille figuras
Egit, letheo purgatos flumine tandem
Rursus ad humanae revocat primordia formae./2

Dumbe hands of beasts he makes men's soules endure,
Blood-thirstie soules he doth to Beares enure,
Craftie to Foxes, to Woolves bent to rapes;
Thus when for many yeares, through many shapes,
He hath them driv'n in Lethe lake at last,
Them purg'd he turns to mans forms whence they past.

Ipse ego, nam memini, Troiani tempore belli
Panthoides Euphorbus eram,/1

When Troy was won, I, as I call to mind,
Euphorbus was, and Panthus sonne by kind,

     ----- crocodilon adorat
Pars haec, illa pavet saturam serpentibus Ibin,
Effigies sacri hic nitet aurea Corcopitheci./3

This Country doth the Crocodile adore,
That feares the Storks glutted with Serpents gore,
The sacred Babion here,
In gold shape doth appeare.

      ------hic piscem fluminis, illic
Oppida tota canem venerantur./4

A fish here whole Townes reverence most,
A dog they honour in that coast.

represented the liberty which they loved and adored beyond all other divine faculty, and so of others.  But when amongst the most moderate opinions I meet with some discourses that goe about and labour to shew the &rC resemblance betweene us and beasts, and what share they have in our greatest privileges, and with how much likely-hood they are compared unto us, truly I abate much of our presumption, and am easily removed from that imaginary soveraigntie that some& ve and ascribe unto us above all other creatures. If g&ll that were to be contradicted, yet is there a kinde of respect and a generall duty of humanity which tieth us not only unto brute beasts that have life and sense, but even unto trees and plants.  Unto men we owe Justice, and to all other creatures that are capable of it, grace and benignity. There is a kinde of enterchangeable commerce and mutual bond betweene them and us.  I am not ashamed nor afraid to declare the tendernesse of my childish Nature which is such that I cannot well reject my Dog if he chance (although out of season) to fawne upone me, or beg of me to play with him.  The Turkes have almes and certaine hospitals appointed for brute beasts.  The Romans have a publike care to breed and nourish Geese,&by whose vigilance their capital had beene saved.  The Athenians did precisely ordaine that all manner of Mules which had served or beene imploied about the building of their temple called Hecatorn&%doil should be free and suffered to feed wheresoever they pleased, without any let or impeachment.  The Agrigentines had an ordinary custome seriously and solemnly to bury all such beasts as they had held deare; as horses of rare worth and merit speciall dogs, choice or profitable birds, or such as had but served to make their children sport.  And the sumptnous magnificence which in all other things was ordinary and peculiar unto them, appeared also almost notably in the stately sumptuousnesse and costly number of monuments erected to that end, which many ages after have endured and been maintained in pride and state.  The AEgyptians were wont to bury their Wolves, their Dogs, their Cats, 

their Beares, and Crocodiles in holy places, embalming their carcasses, and at their deaths, to weare mourning weeds for them.  Cymon caused a stately honourable tombe to be erected for the Mares, wherewith he had three times gained the prize at running in the Olimpike games.  Ancient Xantippus caused his Dog to be enterred upon a hill by the sea shore, which ever since hath beene named by him.  And Plutarch (as himselfe saith) made it a matter of conscience, in hope of a small gaine to sell or send an Oxe to the shambles that had served him a long time. 

KNOWLEDGE is without all Contradiction a most profitable and chiefe ornament, Those who despise it declare evidently their sottishnesse:  Yet doe not I value it at so excessive a rate as some have done; namely Herillus the Philosopher, who grounded his chiefe felicitie upon it, and held that it lay in her power to make us content and wise: which I cannot beleeve, nor that which others have said, that Knowledge is the mother of all vertue, and that all vice proceedeth of ignorance.  Which if it be it is subject to a large interpretation.  My house hath long since ever stood open to men of understanding, and is very well knowne to many of them: for my father, who commanded the same fifty yeeres and upward, set on fire by that new kinde of earnestnesse wherewith King Francis the first imbraced Letters, and raised them unto credit, did with great diligence and much cost endevour to purchase the acquaintance of learned men; receiving and entertaining them as holy persons, and who had some particular inspiration of divine wisdom; collecting their sentences and discourses as if they had beene Oracles; and with so much more reverence and religious regard by how much lesse authority hee had to judge of them: for hee had no knowledge of Letters no more than his predecessors before him.  As for mee I love them indeed, but yet I worship them not.  Amongst others, Peter Bunel (a man in his time by reason of his learning of high esteeme) having sojourned a few daies at Montaigne with my father and others of his coat being ready to depart thence, presented him
<Mont2-140> 

with a booke entituled Theologia naturalis; sive liber creaturarum magistri Raimondi de Sebonde.  And for so much as the Italian and Spanish tongues were very familiar unto him, and that the book was written in a kinde of latinized Spanish, whereof divers words had Latine terminations; he hoped that with little aid he might reape no small profit by it, and commended the same very much unto him, as a booke most profitable, and fitting the dayes in which he gave it him.  It was even at what time the new fangles of Luther began to creepe in favour, and in many places to shake the foundation of our ancient beleefe.  Wherein he seemed to be well advised, as be who by discourse of reason fore-saw that this budding disease would easily turne to an execrable Atheisme:  For the vulgar wanting the faculty to judge of things by themselves, suffering it selfe to be carried away by fortune and led on by outward appamraces, if once it be possessed with the boldnesse to despise and malapertnesse to impugne the opinions which tofore it held in awful reverence (as are those wherein consisteth their salvation) and that some articles of their religion be made doubtfull and questionable, they will soon and easily admit an equal uncertainty in all other parts of their beleefe, as they that had no other grounded authoritie or foundation but such as are now shaken and weakned, and immediately reject (as a tyrannical yoke) all impressions they had in former times received by the authoritie of Lawes, or reverence of ancient custome.

Nam cupide conculcatur nimis anti metutum./1

That which we fear'd before too much,
We gladly scorne when tis not such.

mee to translate the same into French.  It is easie to translate such Authors, where nothing but the matter is to be represented; but hard and dangerous to undertake such as have added much to the grace and elegancy of the language, namely to reduce them into a weaker and poorer tongue. It was a strange taske and new occupation for me: but by fortune being then at leisure and unable to gainsay the commandement of the best father that ever was, I came ere long (as well as I could) to an end of it: wherein he toook singular delight, and commanded the same to be printed, which accordingly was after his decease performed.  I found the conceits of the author to be excellent, the contexture of his worke well followed, and his project full of pietie.  Now forasmuch as divers ammuse themselves to reade it, and especially Ladies, to whom we owne most service, it hath often beene my hap to help them, when they were reading it, to discharge the booke of two principall objections, which are brought against the same. His drift is bold, and his scope adventurous for he undertaketh by humane and naturall reasons, to establish and verifie all the articles of Christian religion against Atheists.  Wherein (to say truth) I find him so resolute and so happy, as I deem it a thing impossible to doe better in that argument, and thinke that none equalleth him.  Which booke seeming to me both over-rich and exquisite, being written by an author whose name is so little knowne, and of whom all we know is, that be was a Spaniard, who about two hundred yeeres since professed Physicke in Tholouse:  I demanded once of Adrianus Turnebus (a man who knew all things) what such a booke might be; who answered, that he deemed the same to be some Quintessence extracted from out Saint Thomes Aquinas:  For, in good truth, onely such a spirit fraught with so infinite erudition, and so full admirable subtilities was capable of such and so rare imitiations.  So it is, that whosoever be the author or deviser of it (the title whereof ought not without further reason to be taken from Sebond) he was a very 

sufficient-worthie man, and endowed with sundrie other excellent qualities. The first thing he is reproved for in his Booke is, that Christians wrong themselve much, in that they ground their beleefe upon humane reasons, which is conceived but by faith and by a particular inspiration of God. Which objection seemeth to containe some zeale of pietie; by reason whereof we ought, with so much more mildnes and regard, endevour to satisfie them that propose it.  It were a charge more befitting a man conversant, and sutable to one acquainted with the holy Scriptures, than me, who am altogether ignorant in them.  Neverthelesse I thinke, that even as to a matter so divine and high, and so much exceeding al humane understanding, as is this verity, wherwith it hath pleased the goodness of God to enlighten as, it is most requisit that he affoord and lend us his helpe; And that; with an extraordinary and privileged favour, that so we may the better conceive and entertaine the same:  For, I suppose that meanes meerely humane can no way be capable of it; which if they were, so many rare and excellent mindes, and so plenteously stored with naturall faculties, as have beene in times past, would never by their discourse have mist the attayning of this knowledge.  It is faith onely which lively and assuredly embraceth the high mysteries of our Religion. And no man can doubt but that it is a most excellent and commendable enterprise, properly to accommodate and fit to the service of our faith, the natural helpes and humane implements which God hath bestowed upon us.  And no question is to be made but that it is the most honourable employment we can put them unto; and that there is no occupation or intent more worthy a good Christian, than by all meanes, studies, and imaginations, carefully to endevour how to embellish, amplifie, and extend the truth of his beleefe and religion.  It is not enough for us to serve God in spirit and soule; we owe him besides, and wee yeeld unto him, a corporall worshipping; we applie our limbs, our motions, and all external things, to honour him. 

The like ought to be done, and we should accompany our faith with all the reason we possesse:  Yet alwayes with this proviso, that we thinke it doth not depend of us, and that all our strength and arguments can never attaine to so supernaturall and divine a knowledge:  Except it seize upon us, and as it were enter into us by an extraordinarie infusion:  And unlesse it also enter into us not onely by discourse, but also by humane meanes, she is not in her dignitie nor in her glorie.  And verily I feare therfore, that except this way, we should not enjoy it.  Had we fast-hold on God; by the interposition of a lively faith; had we hold-fast on God by himselfe, and not by us; had we a divine foundation; then should not humane and worldly occasions have the power so to shake and totter us, as they have.  Our hold would not then yeeld to so weake a batterie:  The love of noveltie; the constrainte of Princes; the good successe of one partie; the rash and casuall changing of our opinions, should not then have the power to shake and alter our beleefe.  We should not suffer the same to be troubled at the wil and pleasure of a new argument, and at the perswasion , no, not of all the rhetorike that ever was we should withstand these boistrous billowes with an inflexible and unmoveable constancie+:

Illisos fluctus rupes, ut vasta refundit
Et varias circumlatrantes dissipat undas,
Mole sua./1

As huge rocks doe regorge th' invective waves,
And dissipate the billowes brawling braves,
Which these gainst those still bellowe out.
Those being big and standing stout.

was never any so factious, what difficultie or strangenesse soever his doctrine maintained, but some sort conforme his behaviors and square his life unto it:  Whereas so divine and heavenly an institution never markes Christians but by the tongue.  And will you see whether it be so?  Compare but our manners unto a Turke, or a Pagan, and we must needs yeeld unto them:  Whereas in respect of our religious superioritie, we ought by much, yea by an incomparable distance, out-shine them in excellencie:  And well might a man say, Are they so just, so charitable, and so good?  Then must they be Christians.  All other outward shewes and exterior apparences are common to all religious:  As hope, affiance, events, ceremonies, penitence, and martyrdoms.  The peculiar badge of our truth should be vertue; As it is the heavenliest and most difficult marke, and worthiest production of Verity it selfe, And therefore was our good Saint Lewis in the right, when that Tartarian King, who was become a Christian, intended to come to Lyons, to kisse the Popes feet, and there to view the sanctitie he hoped to find in our lives and manners, instantly to divert him from it, fearing lest our dissolute manners and licentious kind of life might scandalize him, and so alter his opinion fore-conceived of so sacred a religion.  Howbeit the contrary happened to another, who for the same effect being come to Rome, and there viewing the disolutenesse of the Prelates and people of those dayes, was so much the more confirmed in our religion; considering with himselfe what force and divinity it must of consequence have, since it was able, amidst so many corruptions and so viciously- poluted hands, to maintaine her dignitie and splendor.  Had wee but one onely graine of faith, wee should then be able to remove mountaines from out their place, saith the Holy Writ.  Our actions being guided and accompanied with Divinitie, should not then be meerely humane, but eveil as our beliefe, containe some wonder-causing thing.  Brevis est institutio vitae honestae beataeque, si credas: 'The institution of an honest and 

blessed life is but short, if a man beleeve.  Some make the world beleeve that they beleeve things they never doe.  Others (and they are the greater number) perswade themselves they doe so, as unable to conceive what it is to beleeve.  We thinke it strange if in warres, which at this time doe so oppresse our state we see the events to float so strangely, and with so common and ordinarie a manner to change and alter:  The reason is, we adde nothing unto it but our owne.  Justice, which is on the one side, is used but for a cloake and ornament; she is indeed alleadged, but not received, nor harboured, nor wedded.  She is as in the mouth of a Lawyer, and not as she ought in the heart and affection of the partie.  God oweth his extraordinarie assistance unto faith and religion, and not to our passions.  Men are but directors unto it and use religion for a show:  It ought to be cleane contrarie. Doe hot marke if we doe not handle it as it were a peece of waxe, from out so right and so firme a rule, to draw so many contrary shapes.  When was this better seene than now-adaies in France?  Those which have taken it on the left, and those who have taken it on the right hand:  Such as speake the false, and such who speake the truth of it, do so alike employ and fit the same to their violent and ambitious enterprises, proceede unto it with so conformable a proceeding in riotousnesse and injustice, they make the diversitie they pretend in their opinions doubtfull, and hard to be beleeved, in a thing from which depends the conduct and law of our life.  Can a man see from one same Schoole and Discipline, more united and like customes and fashions to proceed?  View but the horrible impudencie wherewith we tosse divine reasons to and fro, and how irreligiously wee have both rejected and taken them againe, according as fortune hath in these publike stormes transported us from place to place.  This solemne proposition:  Whether it be lawfull for a subject, for the defence of religion, to rebell and take armes against his Prince:  Call but to minde in what mouthes but a twelve-moneth agoe the affirmative 

of the same was the chiefe pillar of the one part; the negative was the maine-underprop of the other:  And listen now from whence commeth the voyce and instruction of one and other: and whether armes clatter and clang less for this than for that cause.  And we burne those men which say that truth must be made to abide the yoke of our need:  And how much worse doth France than speak it.  Let us confesse the truth: he that from out this lawfull armie should cull out first those who follow it for meere zeale of a religious affection than such as only regard the defence and protection of their countries lawes or service of their Prince; whether hee could ever erect a compleat company of armed men.  How comes it to passe that so few are found who have still held one same wil and progresse in our publike revolutions, and that we see them now and then but faintly and sometimes as fast as they can headlong to runne into the action?  And the same men, now by their violence and rashnesse, and now through their slowness demissnes, and heavines to spoile, and as it were overthrow our affaires, but that ihey are thrust into them by casual motives, and particular consideration, according to the diversities wherewith they are moved?  I plainly perceive we lend nothing unto devotion but the offices that flatter our passions. There is no hostilitie so excellent as that which is absolutely Christian. Our zeale worketh wonders, whenever it secondeth our inclinations towards hatred, crueltie, ambition, avarice, detraction, or rebellion.  Towards goodnes, benignitie, or temperance it goeth but slowly, and against the haire, except miraculously, some rare complexion leade him unto it, it neither runnes nor flieth to it.  Our religion was ordained to root out vices, but it shrowdeth, fostreth, and provoketh them.  As commonly we say, 'We must not make a foole of God.  Did we believe in him, I say not through faith, but with a simple beleefe; yea (I speake it to our confusion) did we but beleeve and know him, as wee doe another storie, or as one of our companions; we should then love him 

above all other things, by reason of the infinite goodnes and unspeakable beauty that is and shines in him:  Had he but the same place in our affections that riches, Pleasures, glory, and our friends have:  The best of us doth not so much feare to wrong him as he doth to injure his neighbour, his kinsman, or his master.  Is there so simple a minde who, on the one side having before him the object of one of our vicious pleasures, and on the other to his full view perfect knowledge and assured perswasion, the state of an immortall glorie, that would enter into contention of one for the other?  And so we often refuse it through meere contempt: for what drawes us to blaspheming, unlesse it be at all adventures, the desire it selfe of the offence?  The Philosopher Antisthenes, when he was initiated in the mysteries of Orpheus, the priest saying unto him that such as vowed themselves to that religion should after death receive eternall and perfect felicities, replied, 'If thou beleeve it, why dost thou not die thy selfe?  Diogenes more roughly (as his manner was) and further from our purpose, answered the priest who perswaded him to be one of his order, that so he might come unto and attaine the happinesse of the other world: 'Wilt thou have me beleeve that those famous men, Agesilaus and Epaminondas, shall be miserable, and that thou, who art but an asse, and doth nothing of any worth; shalt be happy, because thou art a Priest?  Did we but receive these large promises of everlasting blessednesse with like authoritie as we do a philosophicall discourse, we should not then have death in that horror as we have:

Non jam se moriens dissolvi conquereretur,
Sed magis ire foras, vestemque relinquere ut anguis
Gauderet, praelonga senex aut cornua cervus./1

He would not now complains to be dissolved dying,
But rather more rejoice, that now he is forth-flying,
Or as a Snake his coat out-worne,
Or as old Harts, doth cast his horne.

     I will be dissolved, should we say, and be with Jesus Christ.  The forcible power of Platoes discourse of the immortality of the soule provoked divers of his Schollers unto death, that so they might more speedily enjoy the hopes he told them of.  All which is a most evident token that we receive our religion but according to our fashion and by our owne hands, and no otherwise than other religions are received. We are placed in the countrie where it was in use; where we regard her antiquity, or the authority of those who have maintained her; where we fears the menaces wherewith she threatneth all misbeleevers, or follow her promises.  The considerations ought to be applied and employed to our beleefe, but as subsidiaries: they be human bonds.  Another country, other testimonies, equall promises, alike menaces, might semblaby imprint a cleane contrary religion in us: we are Christians by the same title as we are either Perigordins or Germans.  And as Plato saith: 'There are few so confirmed in Atheisme but some great danger will bring unto the knowledge of God's divine power.  The part doth not touch or concerne a good Christians:  It is for mortall and worldly religions to be received by a humane convoy. What faith is that like to be which cowardice of heart doth plant and weaknesse establish in us?  A goodly faith, that beleeves that which it beleeveth onely because it wanteth the courage not to beleeve the same.  A vicious passion, as that of inconstancie and astonishment is, can it possibly ground any regular production in our mindes or soules?  They establish, saith he, by the reason of their judgement, that whatsoover is reported of hell, or of after-comming paines, is but a fiction: but the occasions to make triall of it, offering itselfe at what time age or sicknesse doth summon them to death, the errour of the same, through the horrour of their future condition, doth then replenish them with another kind of beleefe.  And because such impressions make mens hearts fearfull, hee by his lawes inhibiteth all instruction of such threats and the perswasion that any evill may come unto man from the 

Gods, except for his greater good, and for a medicinable effect, whensoever he falleth into it.  They report of Bion that being infected with the Atheismes of Theodorus, he had for a long time made but a mockerie of religious men; but when death did once seize upon him he yeelded unto the extremest superstitious: As if the Gods would either be removed or come again, according to Bions businesses Plato and these examples conclude that we are brought to beleeve in God either by reason or by compulsion, Atheisme being a proposition as unnaturall and monstrous as it is hard and uneasie to be established in any mans minde, how insolent and unruly soever he may be: many have beene seene to have conceived either through vanitie or fiercenesse, strange and seld-knowne opinion, as if they would become reformers of the world by affecting a profession only in countenance: who though they be sufficiently foolish, yet are they not powerfull enough to ground or settle it in their consciences.  Yet will not such leave to lift up their joyned hands to heaven, give them but a stoccado on their breast: and when fear shall have supprest, or sicknesse vanquished this licentious fervour of a wavering minde, then will they suffer themselves gently to be reclaimed, and discreetly to be perswaded to give credit unto true beliefe and publike examples.  A decree seriously digested is one thing, and these shallow and superficiall impressions another, which bred by the dissolutenesse of a loose spirit, doe rashly and uncertainely float up and downe the fantasie of a man.  Oh men, most braine-sicke and miserable, that endeavour to be worse than they can!  The errour of Paganisme and the ignorance of our sacred truth, was the cause of this great soules-fall: but onely great in worldly greatnes; also in this next abuse, which is, that children and old men are found to be more susceptible or capable of religion, as if it were bred and had her credit from our imbecillitie.  The bond which should binde our judgement, tie our will, enforce and joyne our soules to our Creator, should be a bond taking his doubling and forces, not 

Atque adeo faciem coeli non invidet orbi
Ipse Deus, vultusque suos corpusque recludit

Semper volvendo! seque ipsum inculcat et offert
Ut bene coqnosci possit, doceatque videndo
Qualis est, doceatque suas attendere leges./1

God to the world doth not heav'ns face envie,
But by still moving it doth notifie
His face and essence, doth himselfe applie,
That he may well be knowen, and teach by seeing,
How he goes, how we should marke his decreeing.

Si melius quid habes, accerse, vel imperium fer./1

If you have any better, send for me,
Or else that I bid you, contented be.

O. @ap IVOPOV46,@ 0 oe6y 14iy.n

Of greater, better, wiser minde than he,
God can abide no mortall man should be.

     Let us suppress this overweening, the first foundation of the tyrannie of the wicked spirit.  Deus superbis resistit: humilibus autem dat gratiam: 'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble.  Plato saith 'that intelligence is in all the Gods, but little or nothing at all in men.  Meanewhile it is a great comfort unto a Christian man to see our mortall implements and fading tooles so fitly sorted to our holy and divine faith; that when they are employed to the mortal and fading subjects of their nature, they are never more forcible nor more joyntlie appropriated unto them.  Let us then see whether man hath an other stronger reasons in his power then Sebondes, and whether it be in him, by argument or discourse, to come to any certainty.  For, St.  Augustine, pleading against these kind of men, because he would upbraid them with their injustice, in that they hold the parts of our beleefe to be false, and that our reason faileth in establishing them: and to shew that many things may be, and have beene, whereof our discourse can never ground the nature and the causes: he proposeth and setteth downe before them certaine knowen and undoubted experiments, wherein man confesseth to see nothing, which he doth as all things else, with a curious and ingenious search. More must be done, and they must be taught, that to convince the weaknesse of their reason we need not go far to cull out rare examples.  And that it is so defective and blinde, as there is no facility so clear that is clear enough unto her: that easie and uneasie is all one to her; that all subjects equally, and Nature in generall disavoweth her jurisdiction and interposition.  What preacheth truth unto us, when it biddeth us flie and shun worldly philosophy; when it so often telleth us 'that all our wisdome is but folly before God; that of all vanities man is the greatest; that man, who presumeth of his knowledge, doth not yet know what knowledge is: and that man, who is nothing, if he but thinke to be something, seduceth and deceiveth bimselfe?  These sentences of the Holy Ghost do so lively and manifestly 

expresse what I would maintaine, as I should neede no proofe against such as with all submission and obeysance would yeeld to his authority. But these will needs be whipt to their owne cost, and cannot abide their reason to be combatted, but by itselfe.  Let us now but consider man alone without other help, armed but with his own weapons, and unprovided of the grace and knowledge of God, which is all his honour, all his strength, and all the ground of his being.  Let us see what hold-fast or free- bold he hath in this gorgeous and goodly equipage.  Let him with the utmost power of his discourse make me understand upon what foundation he hath built those great advantages and ods he supposeth to have over other creatures. Who hath perswaded him that this admirable moving of heavens vaults, that the eternal light of these lampes so fiercely rowling over his head, that the horror-moving and continnall motion of this infinite vaste ocean were established, and continue so many ages for his commoditie and service? Is it possible to imagine anything so ridiculous as this miserable and wretched creature, which is not so much as master of himselfe, exposed and subject to offences of all things, and yet dareth call himselfe Master and Emperour of this Universe?  In whose power it is not to know the least part of it., much lesse to command the same.  And the Privileges which he so fondly challengeth to be the onely absolute creature in this huge worlds frame, perfectly able to know the absolute beautie and several parts thereof, and that he is only of power to yeeld the great architect thereof due thanks for it, and to keepe account both of the receipts and layings out of the world.  Who hath sealed him his patent?  Let him shew us his letters of privilegefor so noble and so great a charge.  Have they been granted onely in favour of the wise?  Then concerne they but a few.  Are the foolish and wicked worthy of so extraordinary a favour, who being the worst part of the world, should they be preferred before the rest?  Shall we believe him:  Quorum igitur causa quis dixerit effectum esse mundum?

Eorum scilicet animantium quo ratione utuntur.  Hi sunt dii et homines, quibus profecto nihil est melius:/1 'For whose cause then shall a man say that the world was made?'  In sooth, for those creatures sake which have the use of reason; those are Gods and men, than whom assuredly nothing is better.  We shall never sufficiently baffle the impudency of this conjoyning.  But silly wretch, what hath he in him worthie such an advantage?  To consider the incorruptible life of the celestiall bodies, their beauty, greatnesse, and agitation, continued with so just and regular a course.

      ------ cum suspicimus magni celestia mundi
Templa super, stellisque micantibus Aethera fixum,
Et venit in mentem Lunae Solisque viarum./2

When we of this great world the heavenly temples see
Above us, and the skies with shine-starres fixt to be,
And marks in our discourse,
Of Sunne and Moone the course.

Facta etenim et vitas hominum suspendit ab astris./3

For on the stars he doth suspend
Of men, the deeds, the lives, and end.

      ------ speculataque longe
Deprendit tacitis dominantia legibus astra.
Et totum alterna mundum ratione moveri,
Fatorumque vices certis discernere signis./4

By speculation it from far discerns,
How stars by secret lawes do guide our sterns,
And this whole world is moov'd by entercourse
And by sure signes of fates to know the course.

     Seeing that not a man alone, nor a king only, but monarchies and empires; yea, and all the world below is moved at the shaking of one of the least heavenly motions.
Quantaque quam parvi faciant discrimina motus:
Tantum est hoc regnum quod regibus imperat ipsis./1

How little motions make, how different affection:
So great this Kingdoms is, that hath Kings in subjection.

          -----furit alter amore,
Et pontum tranare potest, et vertere Troiam,
Alterius sors est scibendis legibus apta:
Ecce patrem nati perimunt, natosque parentes,
Mutuaque armati coeunt in vulnera fratres,
Non nostrum hoc bellum est; coquntur tanta movere,
Inque suas ferri ponas, lacerandaque membra:
Hoc quoque fatale est sic ipsum expandere fatum:/2

One with love madded, his love to enjoy
Can crosse the seas, and overturns all Troy
Anothers lot is to set lawes severe.
Loe sonnes ill fathers, fathers sonnes destroy,
Brothers for mutuall wounds their armes doe beare,
Such war is not our owne, forc't are we to it,
Drawne to our owne paines, our owne limbs to teare
Fates so t'observe t'is fatall, we must doe it

What masons and carpenters were to so great a worke?
Why doe we then deprive them of soule, of life, and of discourse?

same imagination that he dare equall himself to God, that he ascribeth divine conditions unto himself, that he selecteth and separateth himselfe from out the ranke of other creatures; to which his fellow-brethren and compeers he cuts out and shareth their parts, and allotteth them what portions of meanes or forces he thinkes good.  How knoweth he by the vertue of his understanding the inward and secret motions of beasts?  By what comparison from them to us doth he conclude the brutishnesse be ascribeth unto them? When I am playing with my cat, who knowes whether she have more sport in dallying with me than I have in gaming with her?  We entertaine one another with mutuall apish trickes.  If I have my houre to begin or to refuse, so hath she hers.  Plato in setting forth the golden age under Saturne, amongst the chiefe advantages that man had then, reporteth the communication he had with beasts, of whom enquiring and taking instruction, he knew the true qualities and differences of every one of them: by and from whom he got an absolute understanding and perfect wisedome, whereby he led a happier life than we can doe.  Can we have a better proofe to judge of mans impudency touching beasts?  This notable author was of opinion that in, the greatest part of the corporall forme which nature hath bestowed on them, she hath only respected the use of the prognostications, which in his daies were thereby gathered.  The defect which hindreth the communication betweene them and us, why may it not as well be in us as in them?  It is a matter of divination to guesse in whom the fault is that we understand not one another.  For we understand them no more than they us.  By the same reason, may they as well esteeme us beasts as we them.  It is no great marvell if we understand them not: no more doe we the Cornish, the Welch, or Irish. Yet have some boasted that they understood them, as Apollonius Thyaneus, Melampus, Tiresias, Thales, and others.  And if it be (as Cosmographers report that there are nations who receive and admit a dogge 

to be their king, it must necessarily follow that they give a certaine interpretation to his voice and moving.  We must note the parity that is betweene us.  We have some meane understanding of their senses, so have beasts of ours, about the same measure.  They flatter and faune upon us, they threat and entreat us, so doe we them.  Touching other matters, we manifestly perceive that there is a full and perfect communication amongst them, and that not only those of one same kinde understand one another, but even such as are of different kindes.

Et mutae pecudes, et denique secla ferarum
Dissimilis fuerunt voces variasqe cluere,
Cum metus aut dolor est, aut eum tam gaudia gliscunt./1

Whole heard's (though dumbe) of beasts, both wild and tame,
Use divers voices, diffrent sounds to frame,
As joy, or griefe, or feare,
Upspringing passions beare.

Non alia longe ratione atque ipse videtur
Protrahere ad gestum, pueros infantia lingua/2

No otherwise, then for they cannot speake,
Children are drawne by signes their mindes to breake.

El silentio ancor suole
Haver prieghi e parole.

Silence also hath a way,
Words and prayers to convay.

I have suffered thee to speake all thou wouldst, and as long as thou pleasedst, without ever speaking one word.  Is not this a kind of speaking silence, and easie to be understood?  And as for other matters; what sufficiency is there in us that we must not acknowledge from the industry and labours of beasts?  Can there be a more formall and better ordained policie, divided into so severall charges and offices, more constantly entertained, and better maintained, than that of Bees?  Shall we imagine their so orderly disposing of their actions, and managing of their vocations, have so proportioned and formall a conduct without discourse, reason, and forecast?

His quidam signis atque hoc exempla sequuti,
Esse apibus partem divinae mentis, et haustus
Aethereos doxere./1

Some by these signes, by these examples moved,
Said that in Bees there is and may be proved
Some taste of heavenly kinde,
Part of celestial minde.

unlesse they knew the different conditions of winds, and considered that some are more healthfull and safe for them than some others?  Why doth the Spider spin her artificiall web thicke in one place and thin in another? And now useth one, and then another knot, except she had an imaginary kinde of deliberation, fore-thought, and conclusion?  We perceive by the greater part of their workes what excellency beasts have over us, and how weake our art and short our cunning is, if we goe about to imitate them.  We see, notwithstanding, even in our grosest works, what faculties we employ in them, and how our minde employeth the uttermost of her skill and forces in them: why should wee not thinke as much of them?  Wherefore doe we attribute the workes which excell whatever we can performe, either by nature or by art, unto a kinde of unknowne, naturall, and servile inclination?  Wherein unawares wee give them a great advantage over us, to infer that nature, led by a certaine loving kindnesses leadeth and accompanieth them (as it were by the hand) unto all the actions and commodities of their life; and that she forsaketh and leaveth us to the hazard of fortune; and by art to quest and finde out those things that are behovefull and necessarie for our preservation: and therewithall demeth us the meanes to attaine by any institution and contention of spirit to the naturall sufficiency of brute beasts:  So that their brutish stupidity doth in all commodities exceed whatsoever our divine intelligence can effect.  Verily, by this account, wee might have just cause and great reason to terme her a most injust and partiall step-dame:  But there is no such thing, our policy is not so deformed and disordered.  Nature hath generally imbraced all her creatures:  And there is not any but she hath amply stored with all necessary meanes for the preservation of their being.  For the daily plaints, which I often heare men (when the licence of their conceits doth sometimes raise them above the clouds, and then headlong tumble them downe even to the Antipodes), 

exclaiming that man is the onely forsaken and out-cast creature, naked on the bare earth, fast bound and swathed, having nothing to cover and arme himselfe withall but the spoile of others; whereas Nature hath clad and mantled all other creatures, some with shels, some with huskes, with rindes, with haire, with wooll, with stings, with bristles, with hides, with mosse, with feathers, with skales, with fleeces, and with silke, according as their quality might need or their condition require:  And hath fenced and armed them with clawes, with talons, with hoofes, with teeth, with stings, and with hornes, both to assaile others and to defend themselves: And hath moreover instructed them in everything fit and requisite for them, as to swim, to runne, to creepe, to flie, to roare, to bellow, and to sing: whereas man only (Oh, silly, wretched man) can neither goe, nor speake, nor shift, nor feed himselfe, unlesse it be to whine and weepe onely, except hee bee taught.

Tum porro, puer ut saevis projectus ab undis
Navila, nudus humi, jacit infans indignus omni
Vitali auxilio, cum primum in luminis oras
Nexibus ex alvomatris natura profundit,
Vagituque locum lugibri complet, et aequm est
Cui tantum in vita restet transire malorum:
At variae crescunt pecudes, armenta, feraeque,
Nec crepitacula eis opus est, nec cuiquam adhibenda est
Almae nutricis blanda atque infracta loquela:
Nec varias quaerunt vestes pro tempore caeli:
Denique non armis opus est, non maenibus altis
Qeis sua tutentur quando omnibus omnia large
Tellus ipsa parit, naturaque daedata rerum./1

An infant, like a shipwracke ship-boy cast from seas,
Lies naked on the ground and speechlesse, wanting all
The helpes of vitall spirit, when nature with small ease
Of throes, to see first light, from her wombe lets him fall,
Then, as is meet, with mournfull cries he fils the place,
For whom so many ils remaine in his lives race.
But divers herds of tame and wild beasts foreward spring,
Nor need they rattles, nor of Nurces cockring-kind

The flattering broken speech their lullaby need sing.
Nor seeke they divers coats, as divers seasons bind.
Lastly no armour need they, nor high-reared wall
Whereby to guard their owne, since all things unto all
Worke-master nature doth produce, And the earth largely to their use.

Sentit enim vim quisque suam quam possit abuti./1

For every one soone-understanding is
Of his owne strength, which he may use amisse.

labour or tilling doth sufficiently produce and offer him as much as he shall need.  And if not at all times, no more doth she unto beasts; witnesse the provision wee see the ants and other silly creatures to make against the cold and barren seasons of the yeare.  The nations that have lately bin discovered, so plenteously stored with all manner of naturall meat and drinke, without care or labor, teach us that bread is not our onely food: and that without toyling our common mother nature hath with great plentie stored us with whatsoever should be needfull for us, yea, as it is most likely, more richly and amply than now adaies she doth, that we have added so much art unto it.

Et tellus nitidas fruges vinetaque laeta
Sponte sua primum mortalibus creavit,
Ipsa dedit dulces foetus, et pabulaa laeta,
Quae nunc vix nostro grandescunt aucta labore,
Conterimusque boves et vires agricolarum:

The earth it selfe at first of th' owne accord
Did men rich Vineyards, and cleane fruit afford.
It gave sweet of-springs, food from sweeter soyle
Which yet scarse greater grow for all our toyle,
Yet tire therein we doe,
Both Plough-men's strength and Oxen too.

he useth in warre (for he hath some he only useth for that purpose) which he heedfully spareth and never puts them to other service:  When buls prepare themselves to fight, and they raise, scatter, and with their feet cast the dust about them: the wilde boare whets his tusks; when the Ichneumon is to grapple with the crocodile, he walloweth his body in the mire, then lets the same drie and harden upon him, which he doth so often that at last the same becomes as hard and tough as well as any compact crust, which serveth him in stead of a cuirace.  Why shall we not say that it is as naturall for us to arme our selves with wood and yron?  As for speech, sure it is that if it be not naturall it is not necessary.  I beleeve, neverthelesse, that if a childe, bred in some uncouth solitarinesse, farre from haunt of people (though it were a hard matter to make triall of it) would no doubt have some kinde of words to expresse, and speech to utter his conceits. And it is not to be imagined that nature hath refused us that meane and barred us that helpe which she hath bestowed upon many and divers other creatures: for what is that faculty we see in them when they seeme to complaine, to rejoice, to call one unto another for helpe, and bid one another to loving conjunction (as commonly they doe) by the use of their voice, but a kind of speech?  And shall not they speake among themselves that speake and utter their minde unto us and we to them?  How many waies speake we unto our dogges, and they seeme to understand and answer us?  With another language and with other names speake we unto and call them than we doe our birds, our hogges, our oxen, our horses, and such like; and according to their different kindes we change our idiome.

Cosi per entro loco schiera bruna
S'ammusa l'una con I'altra formica,
Forse a spiar lor via, et lor fortuna./1

So Ants amidst their sable-coloured band
One with another mouth to mouth confer,
Haply their way, or state to understand.

     ----- variaeque volucres
Longe alias alio jaciunt in temepore voces,
Et partim mutant cum tempestatibus una
Raucisonos cantus./2

And divers birds, send forth much divers sounde
At divers times, and partly change the grounds
Of their hoarce-sounding song,
As seasons change along.

Indupedita suis fatalibus omnia vinclis./3

All things enfolded are,
In fatall bonds as fits their share. {Pope+}

     Some difference there is, there are orders and degrees; but all is under the visage of one same nature,

     ----- res quaque suo ritu procedit, et omnes
Faedere natura certo discrimina servant./1

All things proceed in their course, natures all
Keeps difference, as in their league doth fall.

it is safer to leave the reignes of our conduct unto nature than unto ourselves.  The vanitie of our presumption maketh us rather to be beholding and as it were endebted unto our owne strength, {Shylock+} {Antonio] for our sufficiency, than unto her liberalitie; and we enrich other creatures with naturall gifts, and yeeld those unto them, that so we may ennoble and Honour our selves with gifts purchased, as me thinketh, by a very simple humour: for I would prize graces and value gifts that were altogether mine owne, and naturall unto me, as much as I would those I had begged, and, with a long prentiship, shifted for.  It lyeth not in our power to obtaine a greater commendation than to be favoured both of God and Nature.  By that reason, the fox, which the inhabitants of Thrace use when they will attempt to march upon the yce of some frozen river, and to that end let her go loose afore them, should we see her running alongst the river side, approch her eare close to the yce, to listen whether by any farre or neere distance she may heare the noyse or roaring of the water running under the same, and according as she perceiveth the yce thereby to be thicke or thinne, to goe either forward or backward; might not we lawfuify judge that the same discourse possesseth her head as in like case it would ours?  And that it is a kinde of debating reason and consequence drawen from naturall sense? Whatsoever maketh a noyse moveth, whatsoever moveth is not frozen, whatsoever is not frozen is liquid, whatsoever is liquid yeelds under any weight? For to impute that only to a quicknesse of the sense of hearing, without discourse or consequence, is but a fond conceipt, and cannot enter into my imagination.  The like must be judged of so many wiles and inventions wherewith beasts save themselves from the snares and scape the baits we lay to entrap them.  And if we will take hold of any advantage tending to that purpose, that it is in our power to seize upon them, to employ them to our service, and to use them at our pleasure; it is but the same oddes we have one upon another.  To which purpose we have our slaves or 

bond-men; and were not the Climacides certain women in Syria, which creeping on al foure upon the ground, served the ladies in steed of footstoles or ladders to get up into their coachs?  Where the greater part of free men, for very slight causes, abandon both their life and being to the power of others.  The wives and concubines of the Thracians strive and contend which of them shal be chosen to bee slaine over her husbands or lovers tombe.  Have tyrants ever failed to find many men vowed to their devotion? Where some for an overplus or supererogation have added this necessity, that they must necessarily accompany them as well in death as in life. Whole hostes of men have thus tyed themselves unto their captaines.  The tenor of the oath ministred unto the schollars that entered and were admitted the rude schoole of Roman Gladiators emplied these promises, which was this: we vow and sweare to suffer our selves to be enchained, beaten, burned, and killed with the sword, and endure whatsoever any lawfull fenser ought to endure for his master: most religiously engaging both our bodie and soule to the use of his service:

Ure meum, si vis, flamma caput et pete ferro
Corpus, et intorto verbere terga seca,/1

Burne tyrant (if thou wilt my head with fire, with sword
My body strike, my backe cut with hard-twisted cord.

orderly rankes about the tombe.  The men that serve us doe it better cheape, and for a lesse curious and favourable entreating than we use unto birds, unto horses, and unto dogges.  What carke and toile apply we not ourselves unto for their sakes?  Me thinks the vilest and basest servants will never doe that so willingly for their masters which princes are glad to doe for their beasts.  Diogenes, seeing his kinsfolks to take care how they might redeeme him out of thraldome; 'they are fooles,' said he, 'for it is my master that governeth, keepeth, feedeih, and serveth me:' And such as keepe or entertaine beasts may rather say they serve them than that they are served of them. {service+} And yet they have that naturall greater magnanimity, that never lyon was seen to subject bimselfe unto another lyon, nor one horse unto another horse, for want of heart.  As wee hunt after beasts, so tygers and lyons hunt after men, and have a like exercise one upon another: hounds over the hare; the pike or luce over the tench; the swallowes over the grasse- hoppers) and the sparrow-hawkes over blacke-birds and larkes.

     ----- serpente ciconia pullos
Nutrit, et inventa per devia rura lacerta,
Et leporem aut capream famulae Iovis, et generosae
In saltu venantur aves./1

The storke her young feeds with serpents prey,
And lyzarts found somewhere out of the way,
Joves servants - Eagles, hawkes of noblera kynde,
In forrests hunt, a hare or kid to finde,

As that of hooke and line about our angling-rods, so have beasts amongst themselves.  Aristotle reporteth that the cuttle-fish casteth a long gut out of her throat, which like a line she sendeth forth, and at her pleasure pulleth it in againe, according as she perceiveth some little fish come neere her, who being close hidden in the gravell or stronde, letteth him nible or bite the end of it, and then by little and little drawes it in unto her, untill the fish be so neere that, with a soudaine leape, she may catch it.  Touching strength, there is no creature in the world open to so many wrongs and injuries as man: we need not a whale, an elephant, nor a crocodile, nor any such other wilde beast, of which one alone is of power to defeat a great number of men; seely lice are able to make Silla give over his Dictatorship: the heart and life of a mighty and triumphant emperor is but the break-fast of a seely little worme.  Why say we that skill to discerne and knowledge to make choyce (gotten by art and acquired by discourse) of things good for this life, and availfull against sicknesse, and to distinguish of those which are hurtfull, and to know the vertue of reubarb, qualitie of oake ferne and operation of polipodie, is only peculiar unto man?  When we see the Goats of Candia being shot with an arrow to choose from out a million of simples the herb Dittany or Garden-ginger, and there-with cure themselves; and the Tortoise having eaten of a Viper immediately to seek for Origon or wild Marjoram to purge herselfe: the Dragon to run and cleare his eies with Fenel:  Cranes with their bils to minister glisters of sea-water unto themselves; the Elephants to pull out, not only from themselves and their fellowes, but also from their masters (witnesse that of King Porus, whom Alexander defeated) such javelins or darts as in fight have beene hurled or shot at them, so nimbly and so cunningly as ourselves could never do it so easily and with so little paine:  Why say wee not likewise that that is science and prudence in them?  For, if to depress them some would alleage it is by the onely instruction and instinct of Nature they 

know it, that will not take the name of science and title of prudence from them; it is rather to ascribe it unto them than unto us for the honour of so assured a schoole-mistris.  Chrysippus, albeit in other things as disdainfull a judge of the condition of beasts as any other Philosopher, considering the earliest movings of the dog, who comming into a path that led three severall wayes in search or quest of his Master, whom he had lost, or in pursuit of some prey that hath escaped him, goeth senting first one way and then another, and having assured himself of two, because he findeth not the tracke of what he hunteth for, without more adoe furiously betakes himselfe to the third; he is enforced to confesse that such a dog must necessarily discourse thus with himselfe, 'I have followed my Masters footing hitherto, hee must of necessity pass by one of these three wayes; it is neither this nor that, then consequently hee is gone this other. And by this conclusion or discourse assuming him selfe, comming to the third path, hee useth his sense no more, nor sounds it any longer, but by the power of reason suffers himselfe violently to be carried through it.  This meere logicall tricke, and this use of divided and conjoyned. propositions, and of the sufficient numbring of parts: is it not as good that the dog know it by him selfe, as by Trapezuntius his logicke?  Yet are not beasts altogether unapt to be instructed after our manner.  We teach Blacke-birds, Starlins, Ravens, Piots, and Parots to chat; and that facilitie we perceive in them to lend us their voyce so supple and their wind so tractable, that so wee may frame and bring it to a certaine number of letters and silables, witnesseth they have a kinds of inward reason which makes them so docile and willing to learne.  I thinke every man is cloied and wearied with seeing so many apish and mimmike trickes that juglers teach their Dogges, as the dances, where they misse not one cadence of the sounds or notes they heare:  Marke but the divers turnings and severall kinds of motions which by the commandement of their bare words they make them performe: But I wonder 

not a little at the effect, which is ordinary amongst us; and that is, the dogs which blind men' use, both in Citie and in Country:  I have observed how sodainly they will stop when they come before some doores where they are wont to receive alms: how carefully they will avoyd the shocke of Carts and Coaches, even when they have roome enough to passe by themselves.  I have seene some going along a Towne-ditch leave a plaine and even path and take a worse, that so they might draw their Master from the ditch. How could a man make the dog conceive his charge was only to looke to his masters safetie, and for his service to despise his own commoditie and good?  And how should he have the knowledge that such a path would be broade enough for him, but not for a blind man?  Can all this he conceived without reason?  We must not forget what Plutarke affirmeth to have seene a dog in Rome doe before the Emperour Vespasian the father in the Theatre of Marcellus.  This Dog served a jugler, who was to play a fiction of many faces and sundry countenances, where he also was to act a part.  Amongst other things he was for a long while to counterfeit and faine himself dead, because he had eaten of a certain drugge: having swallowed a piece of bread, which was supposed to be the drug, he began sodainly to stagger and shake as if he had beene giddie, then stretching and laying himselfe along as stiffe as if hee were starke dead, suffered himself to be dragged and haled from one place to another, according to the subject and plot of the play, and when he knew his time, first he began faire and softly to stirre as if he were roused out of a dead slumber, then lifting up his head hee looked and stared so gastly that all the bystanders were amazed.  The Oxen, which in the Kings gardens of Susa were taught to water them and to draw water out of deepe wells, turned certaine great wheeles, to which were fastned great buckets (as in many places of Languedoke is commonly seene) and being every one appointed to draw just a hundred turnes a day, they were so accustomed to that number as it was impossible by any 

compulsion to make them draw one more, which taske ended they would suddenly stop.  We are growne striplings before we can tell a hundred; and many nations have lately beene discovered that never knew what numbers meant.  More discourse is required to teach others than to be taught.  And omitting what Democritus judged and proved, which is, that beasts have instructed us in most of our Arts:  As the Spider to weave and sew, the Swallow to build, the Swan and the Nightingale musicke, and divers beasts, by imitating them, the art of Physicke:  Aristotle is of opinion that Nightingales teach their young ones to sing, wherein they employ both long time and much care: whence it followeth that those which we keepe tame in cages and have not had leasure to go to their parents schoole, lose much grace in their singing.  Whereby we may conclude they are much amended by discipline and study.  And amongst those that run wilde, their song is not all one nor alike.  Each one hath learnt either better or worse, according to his capacity.  And so jealous are they in their prentiseship, that to excell one another they will so stoutly contend for the mastery that many times such as are vanquished die; their winde and strength sooner failing than their voice.  The young ones wil very sadly sit recording their lesson, and are often seene labouring how to imitate certaine song-notes:  The Scholler listeneth attentively to his Masters lesson, and carefully yeeldeth account of it; now one and then another shall hold his peace:  Marke but how they endevour to amend their faults, and how the elder striveth to reprove the youngest.  Arrius protesteth to have seene an Elephant who on every thigh had a cimball hanging and one fastned to his truncke, at the sound of which all other Elephants danced in a round, now rising aloft, then lowting full low at certaine cadences, even as the instrument directed them, and was much delighted with the harmony.  In the great showes of Rome Elephants were ordinarily seene, taught to move and dance at the sound of a voice, certaine dances, wherein 

were many strange shifts, enterchanges, caprings, and cadences, very hard to be learned.  Some have beene noted to konne and practise their lessons, using much study and care, as being loath to be chidden and beaten of their masters.  But the tale of the piot is very strange, which Plutarke confidently witnesseth to have seene: 'This jay was in a Barbers shop of Rome, and was admirable in counterfeiting with her voice whatsoever she heard:  It fortuned one day that certaine Trumpeters staied before this shop and there sounded a good while; and being gone, all that day and the next after the piot began to be very sad, silent, and melancholy, whereat all men marvelled, and surmized that the noise or clang of the trumpets had thus affrighted and dizzied her, and that with her hearing she had also lost her voice. But at last they found she was but in a deep study and dumpish, retracting into herself, exercising her minde, and preparing her voice to represent the sound, and expresse the noise of the Trumpets she had heard.  And the first voice she uttered was that wherein she perfectly expressed their straines, their closes, and their changes: having by her new prentiship altogether quit, and as it were scorned whatever she could prattle before. I will not omit to alleage another example of a Dogge, which Plutarke also saith to have seen (as for any order or method I know very well I do but confound it, which I observe no more in ranging these examples than I doe in all the rest of my business), who being in a ship, noted that his Dogge was in great perplexity how to get some Oyle out of a deepe Pitcher, which by reason of its narrow mouth he could not reach with his tongue, got him presently some Pibble stones, and put so many into the jarre that he made the Oyle come up so neare the brimme as he could easily reach and licke some.  And what is that but the effect of a very subtill spirit?  It is reported that the ravens of Barbary will doe the like, when the water they would drinke is too low.  This action doth somewhat resemble that which Juba, a King of that Nation, relateth of their elephants; 

that when through the wiles of those that chase them, anyone chanceth to fall into certaine deep pits which they prepare for them, and to deceive them they cover over with reeds, shrubs, and boughes, his fellowes will speedily with all diligence bring great store of stones and peeces of timber that so they may helpe to recover him out againe.  But this beast hath in many other effects such affinity with man's sufficiency, that would I particularly trace out what experience hath taught, I should easily get an affirmation of what I so ordinarily maintaine, which is, that there is more difference found betweene such and such a man, than betweene such a beast and such a man.  An Elephants keeper in a private house of Syria was wont every meale to steele away halfe of the allowance which was allotted him; it fortuned on a day his master would needs feed him himselfe, and having poured that just measure of barley which for his allowance he had prescribed for him, into his manger, the elephant, sternely eying his master, with his truncke divided the provender in two equal parts, and laid the one aside, by which he declared the wrong his keeper did him.  Another having a keeper, who to encrease the measure of his provender was wont to mingle stones with it, came one day to the pot which with meat in it for his keepers dinner was seething over the fire, and filled it up with ashes.  These are but particular effects, but that which all the world hath seene, and all men know, which is, that in all the armies that came out of the East, their chiefest strength consisted in their elephants, by whom they reaped, without comparison, farre greater effects than now adaies we do by our great ordnance, which in a manner holds their place in a ranged battel (such as have any knowledge in ancient histories may easily guesse it to be true).

      -----si quidem Tyrio servire solebant
Anibali, et nostris ducibus, regique Molosso
Horum majores, et dorso ferre cohortes,
Partem aliquam belli, et euntem in praelia surriam./1

Their elders usde great Hannibal to steed
Our Leaders, and Molossian Kings at need,
And on their backe to beare strong guarding Knights,
Part of the warre, and troupes addrest to fights.

ignorant of the French tongue, of our kissing the hands, of our low-lowting courtesies, of our behaviour and carriage, by which without contradiction, humane nature ought to take her patterne?  Whatsoever seemeth strange unto us, and we understand not, we blame and condemne. {otherphobia+} The like befalleth us in our judging of beasts.  They have diverse qualities, which somewhat simbolize witih ours, from which we may comparatively draw some conjecture, but of such as are peculiar unto them what know we what they are?  Horses, dogges, oxen, sheepe, birds, and the greater number of sensitive creatures that live amongst us, know our voyce, and by it suffer themselves to be directed.  So did the lamprey which Crassus had, and came to him when he called it: so do the eeles that breed in Arethusa's fountains.  And my selfe have seene some fish-ponds where at a certaine crie of those that kept them, the fish would presently come to shoare, where they were wont to be fed.

      ------ nomen habent, et ad magistri
Vocem quisque sui venit citatus./1

They have their proper Dames, and every one
Comes at his master's voyce, as call'd upon.

ant, toward another emmets nest, from which many other ants came, as it were to meet them by the way to parly with them, who after they had continued together awhile, they which came last, returned backe to consult (as you may imagine) with their fellow-citizens, and because they could hardly come to any capitulation, they made two or three voyages to and fro.  In the end, the last come brought unto the other a worme from their habitation, as for a ransome of the dead, which worme the first company tooke upon their backes, and carried it home, leaving the dead body unto the other.  Loe, here the interpretation that Cleanthes gave it:  Witnessing thereby that those creatures which have no voice at all, have neverthelesse mutual commerce and enterchangeable communication, whereof if we be not partakers, it is onely our fault; and therefore doe we fondly to censure it.  And they yet produce divers other effects, farre surpassing our capacity, and so farre out of the reach of our mutation that even our thoughts are unable to conceive them.  Many hold opinion that in the last and famous sea-fight which Antonie lost against Augustus, his admiral-galley was in her course staied by that little fish the Latines call Remora, and the English a Suck-stone, whose property is to stay any ship he can fasten himselfe unto.  And the Emperour Caligula, sailing with a great fleet along the coast of Romania, his owne galley was suddenly staied by such a fish, which he caused to be taken sticking fast to the keele, moodily raging that so little a creature had the power to force both sea and winde, and the violence of all his oares, onely with her bil sticking to his galley (for it is a kinde of shellfish) and was much more amazed when he perceived the fish being brought aboord his ship to have no longer that powerfull vertue which it had being in the sea.  A certaine citizen of Cyzicum, whilom purchased unto himselfe the reputation to be an excellent mathematician, because he had learnt the quality of the hedge-hogge, whose property is to build his hole or denne open diverse waies, and toward severall winds,

and fore-seeing rising stormes, he presently stoppeth the holes that way, which thing the foresad citizen heedfully observing, would in the City foretell any future storm, and what wind should blow.  The cameleon taketh the colour of the place wherein he is.  The fish called a pourcontrell, or manie-feet, changeth him selfe into what colour he lists as occasion offereth it selfe, that so he may hide himselfe from what he feareth, and catch what he seeketh for.  In the cameleon it is a change preceding of passion, but in the pourcontrell a change in action; we ourselves doe often change our colour and alter our countenance through sudden feare, choler, shame, and such like violent passions, which are wont to alter the hew of our faces, but it is by the effect of sufferance, as in the cameleon. The jaundise hath power to make us yelow, but it is not in the disposition of our wils.  The effects we perceive in other creatures, greater than ours, witnesse some more excellent faculty in them, which is concealed from us; as it is to be supposed diverse others of their conditions and forces are, whereof no appearance or knowledge commeth to us.  Of all former predictions, the ancientest and most certaine were such as were drawen from the flight of birds; we have nothing equall unto it, nor so admirable.  The rule of fluttering, and order of shaking their wings, by which they conjecture the consequences of things to ensue, must necessarily be directed to so noble an operation by some excellent and supernaturall meane.  For it is a wresting of the letter to attribute so wondrous effects to any naturall decree, without the knowledge, consent, or discourse of him that causeth and produceth them, and is a most false opinion, which to prove, the torpedo or cramp-fish hath the property to benumme and astonish, not onely the limbs of those that touch it, but also theirs that with any long pole or fishing line touch any part thereof, shee doth transmit and convey a kinde If heavie numming into the hands of those that stirre or handle the same. Moreover, it is averred that if any matter be cast upon them 

the astonishment is sensibly felt to gaine upward, untill it come to the hands, and even through the water it astonisheth the feeling-sence. Is not this a wonderfull power?  Yet is it not altogether unprofitable for the Cramp-fish, she both knowes and makes use of it: for to catch prey she pursueth, she is seene to hide berselfe under the mud, that, other fishes swimming over her, strucken and benummed with her exceeding coldnesse, may fall into her clawes.  The Cranes, swallowes, and other wandering birds, changing their abode according to the seasons of the years, shew evidently the knowledge they have of their fore-divining faculty, and often put the same in use.  Hunters assure us that to chose the best dog, and which they purpose to keepe from out a litter of other young whelps, there is no better meane than the damme herselfe: for, if they be removed from out their kennell, him that she first brings thither againe shall alwaies prove the best; or if one but encompasse her kennell with fire, looke which of her whelps she first seeketh to save, is undoubtedly the best; whereby it appeareth they have a certaine use of prognosticating that we have not; or else some hidden vertue to judge of their young ones, different and more lively than ours.  The manner of all beasts breeding, engendering, nourishing, working, moving, living, and dying, being so neere to ours, what ever we abridge from their moving causes, and adde to our condition above theirs can no way depart from our reasons discourse.  For a regiment of our health, Physitians propose the example of bats manner of life and proceeding unto us: for this common saying is alwaies in the people's mouth:

Tenez chauds les pieds et la teste,
Au demeurant vivez en beste./1

Keep warme ('tis meete) the head and feete:
In all the rest, live like a beast.

a certaine disposition of some members fittest for that purpose; nevertheless, they bid us range our selves unto a brutish situation and disposition, as most effectuall:

     ----- more ferarum,
Quadrupedumque maqis ritu, plerumque putantur
Concipere uxores: quia sic loca sumere possunt,
Pectoribus positis, sublatis semina lumbis./1

Nam mulier prohibet se concipere, atgue repugnat,
Clunibus ipse viri Venerem si laeta retractet,
Atque exposato ciet omni pectore fluctus,
Et enim sulci recta regione viaque
Vomerem, atque locis avertit seminis ictum./2

capable of it.  We see horses take a kinde of acquaintancee one of another, so that often, traveling by the highway or feeding together, we have much ado to keep them asunder; wee see them bend and applie their affections to some of their fellowes colours, as if it were upon a certaine visage: and when they meet with any such, with signes of joy and demonstration of good will to joine and accost them, and to hate and shunne some other formes and colours.  Beasts as well as wee have choice in their loves, and are very nice in chusing of their mates.  They are not altogether void of our extreme and unappeasable jealousies.  Lustfull desires are either naturall and necessary as eating and drinking; or else naturall and not necessary, as the acquaintance of males and females; or else neither necessary nor naturall: of this last kinde are almost all mens, for they are all superfluous and artificiall.  It is wonderfull to see with how little nature will be satisfied, and how little she hath left for us to be desired.  The preparations in our kitchens doe nothing at al concede her lawes.  The Stoikes say that a man might very well sustaine himselfe with one olive a day.  The delicacy of our wines is no part of her lesson, no more is the surcharge and relishing which we adde unto our letcherous appetites.

     -----neque illa
Magno prognatum deposcit console cunnum./1

but that they have some coherency with our riotous licenciousnesse. And even as there have beene found, certaine furious longings and unnaturall desires which have provoked men unto the love of beasts, so have diverse times some of them beene drawn to love us, and are possessed with monstrous affections from one kind to another: witnesse the elephant that in the love of an herb-wife, in the city of Alexandria, was corivall with Aristophanes the Grammarian, who in all offices pertayning to an earnest woer and passionate suiter yeelded nothing unto him; for, walking thorow the fruit-market, he would here and there snatch up some with his truncke, and carry them unto her: as neere as might be he would never loose the sight of her, and now and then over her hand put his truncke into her bosome, to feele her breasts.  They also report of a dragon that was exceedingly in love with a young maiden, and of a goose in the city of Asope which dearely loved a young childe; also of a ram that belonged to the musitian Glausia.  Do we not daily see munkies ragingly in love with women, and furiously to pursue them?  And certaine other beasts given to love the males of their owns sex?  Oppianus and others report some examples to show the reverence and manifest the awe some beasts in their marriages beare unto their kindred; but experience makes us often see the contrary:

     -----nec habetur turpe juvencae
Ferre patrem tergo: tua filia coniux:
Quasque creavit, init pecudes caper: ipsaque cuius
Semine concepta est, ex illo conecepit ales/1

To beare her Sire the Heifer shameth not:
The Horse takes his owne Fillies maiden-head:
The Goat gets them with young whom he begot:
Birds bred by them, by whom themselves were bred.

to stumble, so that the sacks she carried were all wet, and perceiving the salt (because the water had melted it to grow lighter, ceased not, as seene as she came neere any water, together with her load, to plunge herselfe therein, untill her master, being aware of her craft, commanded her to be laden with wooll, which being wet became heavier; the mule finding herselfe deceived, used her former policy no more.  There are many of them that lively represent the visage of our avarice, who with a greedy kinde of desire endevour to surprise whatsoever comes within their reach, and though they reap no commodity, nor have any use of it, to hide the same very curiously.  As for husbandry, they exceed us, not onely in fore-sight to spare and gather together for times to come, but have also many parts of the skill belonging thereunto.  As the ants, when they perceive their corne to grow mustie and graine to be sowre, for feare it should rut and putrifie, spread the same abroad before their nests, that so it may aire and drie.  But the caution they use in gnawing, and prevention they employ in paring their graines of wheat, is beyond all imagination of mans wit: Because wheat doth not alwaies keep drie nor wholesome, but moisten, melt, and dissolve into a kind of whey, namely, when it beginneth to bud, fearing it should turne to seed, and lose the nature of a storehouse, for their sustenance, the part and gnaw off the end whereat it wonts to bud.  As forwarre+, which is the greatest and most glorious of all humane actions, I would faine know if we will use it for an argument of some prerogative, or otherwise for a testimonie of our imbecilitie and imperfection, as in truth the science we use to defeat and kill one another, to spoile and utterly to overthrow our owne kind, it seemeth it hath not much to make it selfe to be wished for in beasts, that have it not.

     ----- quando leoni
Fortior eripuit ritam leo, quo nemore unquam
Expirarit aper maioris dentibus apri?/1

When hath a greater Lion damnifide
A Lions life? in what wood ever di'de,
A boare by tusks and gore,
Of any greater boare?

     ----- saepe duobus
Regibus incessit magn6o discordia motu,
Continuoque animos vulgi et trepidantia bello
Corda licet longe praesciscere./1

Oft-times twixt two so great Kings great dissentio
With much adoe doth set them at contention;
The vulgare mindes strait may you see from farre,
And hearts that tremble at the thought of warre.

Fulgur ubi ad caelum se tollit, totaque circum
AEre renidescit tellus, subterque virum vi
Excitur pedibus sonitus, clamoreque montes
Icti rejectant voces ad sidera mundi:/2

Where lightning raiseth it selfe to the skies,
The earth shines round with armour, soundes doe rise
By mens force under feet, wounded with noyse
The hilles to heav'n reverberate their voyce.

     ----- Paridis propter narrator amorem
Graecia Barbariae diro collisa duello./3

For Paris lustfull love (as Stories tell)
All Creece to direfull warre with Asia fell.

     The hatred of one man, a spight, a pleasure, a familiar suspect, or a jealousie, causes which ought not to move two scolding fish-wives to scratch one another, is the soule and motive of all this hurly-burly.  Shall we beleeve them that are the principall authors and causes therof?  Let us but hearken unto the greatest and most victorious Emperour that ever, was, how pleasantly he laughs and wittily he plaies at so many battells and blooody fights, hazarded by both sea and land, at the blood and lives of five hundred thousand soules which followed his fortune, and the strength and riches of two parts of the world consumed and drawne drie for the service of his enterprise:

Quod futuit Glaphyran Antonius, hanc mihi poenam
Fulvia constituit, se quoque uti futuam
Fulviam ego ut furuam? quid si me Manius oret
Paedicam, faciam? non puto, si sapiam.
Aut futue, aut pugnemus, ait: quid si mihi vita
Charior est ipsa mentula?  Signa canant./1

Quam multi Lybico volvuntur marmore fluctus,
Saevus ubi Orion hybernis conditur undis.
Vel cum sole novo densae torrentur aristae,
Aut Hermi campo, aut Lyciae flaventibus arvis,
Scuta sonant, pulsuque pedum tremit excita tellus./2

As many waves as rowle in Affricke marble bounds,
When fierce Orion hides in Winter waves his head:
Or when thicke-eares of Corne are parch't by Suune new- spred.
In Hermus fruitfull fields, or Lycaes yellow grounds,
With noyse of shields and feet, the trembling earth so sounds.

It nigrum campis agmen:/1

The sable-coloured band,
Marches along the Land.

Hi motus animorum, atque haec certamina tanta,
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent./2

Their stomacke-motions, these contentions great,
Clam'd with a little dust, strait lose their heat.

and their weight, wee perswade ourselves they are brought forth by some weighty and important causes; wee are deceived:  They are moved, stirred and removed in their motions by the same springs and wards that we are in ours.  The same reason that makes us chide and braule and fall out with any of our neighbours, causeth a warre to follow betweene Princes; the same reason that makes us whip or beat a lackey maketh a Prince (if hee apprehend it) to spoyle and waste a whole Province.  They have as easie a will as we, but they can doe much more.  Alike desires perturbe both a skinne-worme and an Elephant.  Touching trust and faithfulnesse, there is no creature in the world so trecherous as man.  Our histories report the earnest pursuit and sharpe chase that some dogges have made for the death of their masters.  King Pirrhus, finding a dog that watched a dead man, and understanding he had done so three daies and nights together, commanded the corps to be enterred and tooke the dog along with himn It fortuned one day, as Pirrbus was surveying the general] musters of his army the dog perceiving in that multitude the man who had murthered his maister, loud-barking and with great rage ran furiously upon him; by which signes he furthered and procured his maisters revenge, which by way of justice was shortly executed.  Even so did the dogge belonging to Hesiodus, surnamed the wise, having convicted the children of Canister of Naupactus of the murther committed on his Masters person.  Another Dogge being apointed to watch a Temple in Athens, having perceived a sacrilegious theefe to carrie away the fairest jewels therein, barked at him so long as he was able, and seeing he could not awaken the Sextons or temple- keepers, followed the theefe whither-soever he went; daie-light being come, he kept himselfe a loof-off, but never lost the sight of him: if he offered him meat, he utterly refused it; but if any passenger chanced to come by, on them he fawned, with wagging his taile, and tooke what-ever they offered him; if the theefe staied to rest himselfe, 

he also staied in the same place.  The newes of this Dogge being come to the Temple-keepers, they as they went along, enquiring of the Dogs haire and colour, pursued his tracke so long that at last they found both the Dog and the theefe in the Citie of Cromyon, whom they brought backe to Athens, where for his offence he was severely punished.  And the judges in acknowledgement of the Dogges good office, at the Cities charge appointed him for his sustenance a certaine daily measure of Corne, and enjoyned the Priests of the Temple, carefully to looke unto him.  Plutarke affirmeth this storie to be most true, and to have hapned in his time.  Touching gratitude+ and thankfulnesse (for me thinks we have need to further this word greatly), this onely example shall suffice, of which Appion reporteth to have been a spectator himself.  One day (saith he) that the Senate of Rome (to please and recreate the common people) causd a great number of wilde beasts to be baited, namely huge great Lions, it so fortuned that there was one amongst the rest, who by reason of his furious and stately carriage, of his unmatched strength, of his great limbs, and of his loud and terror-causing roaring, drew all bystanders eyes to gaze upon him.  Amongst other slaves, that in sight of all the people were presented to encounter with these beasts, there chanced to be one Androclus+ of Dacia, who belonged unto a Roman Lord who had been Consull.  This huge Lion, having eyed him afar off, first made a suddaine stop, as strucken into a kind of admiration, then with a milde and gentle contenance, as if he would willingly have taken acquaintance of him), faire and softly approached unto him:  Which done, and resting, assured he was the man he tooke him for, begun fawningly to wagge his taile, as dogges doe that fawne upon their newfound masters, and licke the poore and miserable slaves bands and thighs, who through fears was almost out of his wits and halfe dead.  Androclus at last taking hart of grace, and by reason of the Lions mildnesse having rouzed up his spirits, and wishly 

fixing his eies upon him, to see whether he could call him to remembrance, it was to all beholders a singular pleasure to observe the love, the joy, and blandishments each endevored to enter-shew one another.  Whereat the people raising a loud crie, and by their shouting and clapping; of hands seeming to be much pleased, the Emperour willed the slave to be brought before him, as desirous to understand of him the cause of so strange and seld-seene an accident, who related this new and wonderfull storie unto him.      My Master (said he) being Proconsull in Affrica, forsomuch as he caused me every day to be most cruelly beaten, and held me in so rigorous bondage, I was constrained, as being wearie of my life, to run away; and safely to scape from so eminent a person, and who had so great authoritie in the Countrie, I thought it best to get me to the desart and most unfrequented wildernesses of that region, with a full resolution, if I could not compasse the meanes to sustaine my selfe, to finde one way or other, with violence to make myselfe away.  One day the Sunne about noone- tide became extremely hote, and the scorching heat thereof intolerable, I fortuned to come unto a wilde unhauted cave, hidden amongst crags and almost inaccessible, and where imagined no footing had ever been; therein I hid myselfe.  I had not long been there but in comes this Lion, with one of his pawes sore hurt, and bloody-goared, wailing for the smart, and groaning for the paine he felt; at whose arrivall I was much dismaied, but he seeing me lie close-cowering in a corner of his den, gently made his approaches unto me, holding forth his goared paw toward me and seemed with shewing the same humbly to sue and suppliantly to beg for help at my hands.  I, moved with ruth, taking it into my hand, pulled out a great splint which was gotten into it, and shaking off all feare, first I wrung and crusht his sore, and caused the filth and matter, which therein was gathered, to come forth; then, as gently as for my heart I could, I cleansed, wiped, and dried the same.  He feeling 

some ease in his griefe, and his paine to cease, still holding his foot betweene my hands, began to sleep and take some rest.  Thence forward he and I lived together the full space of three yeares in his den, with such meat as he shifted-for; for what beasts he killed, or what prey soever he tooke, he ever brought home the better part and shared it with me, which for want of fire I rotted in the Sunne, and therewith nourished my selfe all that while.  But at last, wearied with this kind of brutish life, the Lion being one day gone to purchase his wonted prey, I left the place, hoping to mend my fortunes, and having wandred up and downe three dayes, I was at last taken by certaine souldiers, which from Africa brought me into this Citie to my Master againe, who immediately condemned me to death, and to be devoured by wilde beasts.  And as I now perceive, the same Lion was also shortly after taken, who as you see hath now requited me of the good turne I did him, and the health which by my meanes he recovered.  Behold here the historie Androclus reported unto the Emperour, which after he caused to be declared unto all the people, at whose generall request he was forthwith set at libertie, and quit of his punishment, and by the common consent of all had the Lion bestowed upon him.  Appion saith further, that Androclus was daily seen to lead the Lion up and downe the streets of Rome, tied onely with a little twine, and walking from taverne to taverne, received such money as was given him, who would gently suffer himseIf to be handled, touched, decked, and strowed with flowers, all over and over, many saying when they met him: 'Yonder is the Lion that is the mans hoste, and yonder is the man that is the Lions Physitian.  We often mourne and weepe for the losse of those beasts we love, so doe they many times for the losse of us.

Post bellator equus positis insiqnibus Aethon
It lacrimans, guttisque humectat grandibus ora./1

Next AEthon horse of warre, all omaments laid downe,
Goes weeping, with great drops bedewes his cheeckes adowne.

     As some of our nations have wives in common and some in severall, each man keeping himselfe to his owne, so have some beasts; yet some there are that observe their marriage with as great respect as we doe ours.  Touching the mutuall societie and reciprocall confederation which they devise amongst themselves, that so they may be fast combined together, and in times of need help one another, it is apparant that if Oxen, Hogs, and other beasts, being hurt by us, chance to crie, all the heard runnes to aid him, and in his defence will joine all together.  The fish, called of the Latines Scarus, having swallowed the fishers hook, his fellowes will presently flocke about him, and nible the line in sunder; and if any of them happen to be taken in a bow-net, some of his fellowes, turning his head away, will put his taile in at the neck of the net, who with his teeth fast- bolding the same, never leave him untill they have pulled him out.  The Barbel fishes, if one of them chance to be engaged, will set the line against their backes, and with a fin they have, toothed like a sharp saw, presently saw and fret the same asunder.  Concerning particular offices, which we for the benefit of our life draw one from an other, many like examples are found amongst them.  It is assuredly beleeved that the Whale never swimmeth unlesse she have a little fish going before her as her vantgard; it is in shape like a Gudgeon, and both the Latines and we call it the Whale-guide; for she doth ever follow him, suffering herself as easily to be led and turned by him as the ship is directed and turned by a sterne: for requitall of which good turne, whereas all things else, be it beast, fish, or vessell, that comes within the horrible Chaos of this monstrous mouth, is presently lost and devoured, this little fish doth safety retire himselfe therein, and there sleepes verie quietly, and as long as he sleepes the Whale never stirs; but as soone as he awaketh and goeth his way, wherever he takes his course she alwaies followeth him, and if she fortune to lose him, she wanders here and there, and often striketh upon the rocks, as a ship that hath nor 

mast nor rudder.  This Plutarke witnesseth to have seen in the Iland of Anticyra.  There is such a like societie betweene the little bird called a Wren and the Crocodill; for the Wren serveth as a sentinell to so great a monster:  And if the Ichneumon, which is his mortall enemie, approach to fight with him, the little birdlet, lest he might surprise him whilst he sleepeth, with his singing, and pecking him with his bill, awakens him, and gives him warning of the danger he is in.  The bird liveth by the scraps, and feedeth upon the leavings of that monster, who gently receiveth him into his mouth, and suffers him to pecke his jawes and teeth for such mamokes of flesh as sticke betweene them: and if he purpose to close his mouth, he doth first warne him to be gone, faire and easie closing it by little and little, without any whit crushing or hurting him.  The shell-fish called a nacre liveth even so with the pinnotere, which is a little creature like unto a crabfish, and as his porter or usher waits upon him, attending the opening of the nacre, which he continually keepes gaping until he see some little fish enter in, fit for their turne, then he creepes into the nacre, and leaves not pinching his quicke flesh untill he makes him close his shell, and so they both together, fast in their hold, devour their prey. In the manner of the tunnies life may be discovered a singular knowledge of the three parts of the mathematikes.  First for astrologie, it may well be said that man doth learne it of them: for wheresoever the winter Solstitium doth take them, there do they stay themselves, and never stir till the next Equinoctium, and that is the reason why Aristotle doth so willingly ascribe that art unto them: then for geometric and arithmetike, they alwaies frame their shole of a cubike figure, every way square: and so forme a solide close and well-ranged battalion, encompassed round about of six equall sides.  Thus orderly marshaled, they take their course and swim whither their journey tends, as broad and wide behind as before: so that he that seeth and telleth but one ranke, may easily number all the troope, forsomuch as 

the number of the depth is equall unto the bredth, and the bredth unto the length.  Touching magnanimitie and haughtie courage, it is hard to set it forth more lively, and to produce a rarer patterne than that of the dog which from India was sent unto Alexander: to whom was first presented a stag, then a wilde boare, and then a beare, with each of which he should have foughten, but he seemed to make no accompt of them, and would not so much as remove out of his place for them; but when he saw a lion, he presently rouzed himselfe, shewing evidently he meant onely so noble a beast worthie to enter combat with him.  Concerning repentance and acknowledging of faults committed, it is reported that an elephant, having, through rage of choler, slaine his governour, conceived such an extreme inward griefe that he would never afterward touch any food, and suffered himselfe to pine to death.  Touching clemencie, it is reported of a tiger (the fiercest and most inhumane beast of all having a kid given her to feed upon, endured the force of gnawing hunger two daies together rather than she would hurt him; the third day with maine strength she brake the cage wherein she was kept pent, and went elsewhere to shift for feeding; as one unwilling to seize upon the seelie kid, her familiar and guest.  And concerning privileges of familiaritie and sympathie caused by conversation, is it not oft seen how some make cats, dogs, and hares so tame, so gentle, and so milde, that, without harming one another, they shall live and continue together?  But that which experience teacheth sea-faring men, especially those that come into the seas of Sicilie, of the qualitie and condition of the Halcyon bird, or as some call it alcedo or kings-fisher, exceeds all mens conceit. In what kinds of creature did ever nature so much prefer both their hatching, sitting, brooding, and birth?  Poets faine that the Iland of Delos, being before wandring and fleeting up and downe, was for the delivery of Latona made firme and setled; but Gods decree hath beene that all the watrie wildernesse should be quiet and made calm, without raine, wind, 

Now from what vanitie can it proceed, we should so willfully contemne and disdainfully interpret those effects, which we can neither imitate nor conceive?  But to follow this equalitie or correspondences betweene us and beasts somewhat further: the privilege whereof our soule vants, to bring to her condition whatsoever it conceiveth, and to despoile what of mortall and corporall qualities belongs unto it, to marshall those things which she deemed worthie her acquaintance, to disrobe and deprive their corruptible conditions, and to make them leave as superfluous and base garments, thicknesses, length, depth, weight, colour, smell, roughnesse, smoothnesse, hardnesse, softnesse, and all sensible accidents else, to fit and appropriate them to her immortall and spirituall condition: so that Rome and Paris, which I have in my soule; Paris which I imagine; yea, I imagine and conceive the same without reatnesse and place, without stone and morter. and without wood; then say I unto my selfe, the same privilege seemeth likewise to be in beasts: for a horse accustomed to heare the sound of trumpets, the noyse of shot, and the clattering of armes, whom we see to snort, to startle, and to neigh in his sleep, as he lies along upon his litter, even as he were in the hurly burly; it is most certaine, that in his minde he apprebends the sound of a drum without any noyse, and an armie without armes or bodie.

Quippe videbis equos fortes, cum membra jacebunt
In somnis, sudare tamen, spirareque saepe,
Et quasi de palma summas contenders vires./1

You shall see warlike horses, when in sleep
Their limbs lie, yet sweat, and a snorting keep.
And stretch their utmost strength,
As for a goale at length.

legs, and perfectly represent the motions of his course the same is a hare without bones, without haire.

Venantumque canes in molli saepe quiete,
Iactant crura tamen subito, vocesque repente
Mittunt, et crebras reducunt naribus auras,
Ut vestigia si teneant inventa ferarunt
Expergefactique, sequuntur inania saepe,
Crvorum simulacra, fugae quasi dedita cernant:
Donec discussis redeant erroribus ad se./1

Oft times the hunters dogs in easie rest
Stir their legs, suddainly, open, and quest,
And send from nosthrils thicke-thicke snuffing sent
As if on traile they were of game full-bent:
And wakened so, they follow shadowes vaine
Of Deere in chase, as if they fled amaine:
Till, their fault left, they turne to sense againe.

      ------Consueta domi catulorum blanda propago
Degere, saepe levem ex oculis volucremque soporem
Discutere, et corpus de terra corripere instant
Proinde quasi ignotas facies atque ora tuantur./2

The fawning kind of whelps, at home that liv's,
O From eyes to shake light-swift sleepe often striv's,
And from the ground their starting bodies hie,
As if some unknowne stranger they did spie.

We imagine and faine her formes, as our fantasies lead us.

Turpis Romano Belgicus ore color./1

A Dutch-froes colour hath no grace,
Seen in a Roman Ladies face.

majestie to be joyned with it.  Even as the preheminence in beauties which Plato ascribeth unto the Sphericall figure, the Epicureans refer the same unto the Piramidall or Square; and say they cannot swallow a God made round like a bowle.  But howsoever it is, nature hath no more privileged us in that than in other things, concerning her common lawes.  And if we impartially enter into judgement with our selves, we shall finde that if there be any creature or beast lesse favoured in that than we, there are others (and that in great numbers) to whom nature hath been more favourable than to us.  A multis animalibus decore vincimur:/1 'We are excelled in comelinesse, by many living creatures:'  Yea, of terrestriall creatures that live with us.  For, concerning those of the Sea, omitting their figure, which no proportion can containe, so much doth it differ, both in colour, in neatnesse, in smoothnesse, and in disposition, we must give place unto them: which in all qualities we must likewise doe to the eyrie ones.  And that prerogative which Poets yeeld unto our upright stature, looking towards heaven whence her beginning is,

Pronaque cum spectent animalia caetera terram,
Os homini sublime dedit, caelumque videre
Iussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus,/2

Where other creatures on earth looke and lie,
A loftie looke God gave man, had him prie
On heav'n, rais'd his high countenance to the skie,

filthiest of all the rout:  As for outward apparance and true shape of the visage, it is the Munkie or Ape:

Simia quam similis, turpissima bestia, nobis!/1

An Ape, a most il-favored beast,
How like to us in all the rest?' {Yahoo+}

Ille quod obscaenas in aperto corpore partes
Viderat, in cursu qui fuit, heasit amor./2

The love stood still, that ran in full cariere,
When bare it saw parts that should not appeare.

into their closets before they are fully readie and throughly painted, to come abroad and shew themselves:

Nec veneres nostras hoc fallit, quo magis ipsae
Omnia summopere hos vitae post scaenia celant,
Quos retinere volunt adstrictoque esse in amore./1

Our Mistresses know this, which makes them not disclose
Parts to be plaid within, especially from those
Whom they would servants hold, and in their love-bands close:

unto health, than they do in this other proposition of theirs, where they say, that if Circe had presented Vlisses with two kinds of drinke, the one to turne a wise man into a foole, the other to change a foole into a wise man, he would rather have accepted that of folly, than have been pleased that Circe should transforme his humane shape into a beasts.  And they say that Wisdome herselfe would thus have spoken unto him: 'Meddle not with me, but leave me rather than then shouldst place me under the shape and bodie of an Asse.  What?  This great and heavenly wisdom?  Are Phylosophers contented then to quit it for a corporall and earthly veile?  Why then it is not for reasons sake, nor by discourse and for the soule, we so much excell beasts: it is for the love we beare unto our beautie, unto our faire hew, and goodly disposition of limbs, that we reject and set our understanding at naught, our wisdome, and what else we have.  Well, I allow of this ingenious and voluntarie confession surely they knew those parts we so much labour to pamper to be meere fantasies.  Suppose beasts had all the vertue, the knowledge, the wisdome and sufficiency of the Stoikes, they should still be beasts; nor might they ever be compared unto a miserable, wretched, and senseless man.  For, when all is done, whatsoever is not as we are, is not of any worth.  And God to be esteemed of us, must (as we will show anon) draw somewhat neere it.  Whereby it appeareth that it is not long of a true discourse, but of a foolish hardinesse and selfe-perfuming obstinacie, we prefer ourselves before other creatures, and sequester our selves from their condition and societie. {Gulliver+} But to returne to our purpose: we have for our part inconstancie, irresolution, uncertaintie, sorrow, superstition, carefulnesse for future things (yea after our life), ambition, covetousnesse, jelousie, envie, inordinate, mad, untamed appetites, warre, falsehood, disloyaltie, detraction, and curiositie.  Surely we have strangely overpaid this worthie discourse, whereof we so much glorie, and this readinesse to judge, or capacitie to 

Knowow, if we have purchased the same with the price of so infinite passions to which we are uncessantly enthralled.  If we be not pleased (as Socrates is) to make this noble prerogative over beasts, to be of force, that whereas nature hath subscribed them certaine seasons and bounds for their naturall lust and voluptuousnesse, she hath given us at all howers and occasions the full reines of them.

Ut vinum aegrotis, quia prodest raro, nocet saepissime, melius est non adhibere omnino, quam, spe dubiae salutis, in apertam perniciem incurrere:  Sic, ha ud scio, an melius fuerit humano generi motum motum celerem cogitationis, acumen, solertiam quam rationem vocamus, quoniam pestifera sint multis, admodum paucis salutaria, non dari omnino, quam tam munifice et tam large dari:/1

wherein sciences flourished most, we could never learne they had any speciall excellencie in their life.  Wee see the Graecian hath been put to his plunges in seeking to discharge himselfe from some notable imputations in his life.  Was it ever found that sensualitie and health are more pIeasing unto him that understands Astrologie and Grammar?

(Illiterate num minus nervi rigent?/1

As stiffe unlearned sinnewes stand,
As theirs that much more understand.)

Scilicet et morbis, et debilitate carebis,
Et luctun, et curam et tempora vitae
Longa tibi posthaec fato meliore dabuntur./2

Thou shalt be from disease and weaknesse free,
From moane, from care, long time of life to thee
; Shall by more friendly fate affoorded be.

forth many men of much more valour and sufficiencie, both for peace and warre, than this late learned Rome, which with all her wisdom hath overthrowne her erst-flourishing estate.  If all the rest were alike, then should honestie+ and innocencie at least belong to the ancient, for she was exceedingly well placed with simplicities+.  But I will shorten this discourse, which haply would draw me further than I would willingly follow: yet thus much I will say more, that onely humilitie+ and submission is able to make a perfect honest+ man.  Every one must not have the knowledge of his dutie referred to his owne judgement, but ought rather to have it prescribed unto him, and not be allowed to chose it at his pleasure and free will: otherwise, according to the imbecilitie of our reasons, and infinite varietie of our opinions, we might peradventure forge and devise such duties unto ourselves, as would induce us (as Epicurus saith) to endevour to destroy and devoure one another. {bourgeois_individualism+} The first law that ever God gave unto man was a law of pure obedience.  It was a bare and simple commandement whereof man should enquire and know no further: forasmuch as to obey is the proper dutie of a reasonable soul, acknowledging a heavenly and superiour benefactor.  From obeying and yeelding unto him proceed all other vertues, even as all sinnes derive from selfe-overweening. Contrariwise, the first temptation that ever seized on human nature was disobedience, by the devils instigation, whose first poison so far insinuated it selfe into us, by reason of the promises he made us of wisdome and knowledg:  Eritis sicut Dii scientes bonum et malum:/1  'You shall be like Gods, knowing both good and evill.'
And the Syrens, to deceive Vllysses, and alluring him to fall into their dangerous and confounding snares, offer to give him the full fruition of knowledge.  The opinion of wisdome is the plague of man. {intellectual_snobbery+} That is the occasion why ignorance is by our religion recommended unto us as an instrument fitting beleefe and obedience:  Cavete, ne
-----
1 Gen. iii. 5. 

Quis vos decipiat per Philosophiam et inanessseductiones, secundum elementa mundi:/1 'Take heed lest any man deceive you by Philosophie and vaine seducements, according to the rudiments of the world.' All the Philosophers of all the sects that ever were doe generally agree in this point, that the chiefest felicitie, or summum onum, consisteth in the peace and tranquillitie of the soule and bodie: but where shall we finde it?

Ad summum sapiens uno minor est Iove, dives;
Liber, honoratus, puIcher, Rex denique Regum:
Praecipue sanus, nisi cum pituita molesta est./2

In summe, who wise is knowne,
Is less than Jove alone,
Rich, honorable, free, faire, King of Kings,
Chiefely in health, but when fleagme trouble brings.

It is they that store and supply us with all such things as may make us live happily and well, and instruct us how to passe our time without sorrow or offence.  Seemeth not this goodly orator to speake of the Almighties and everliving Gods condition?  And touching effects, a thousand poore seelie women in a countrie towne have lived and live a life much more reposed, more peaceable, and more constant than ever he did. {Wordsworth+}

     -----Deus ille fuit Deus, inclyte Memmi,
Qui princeps vitae rationem invenit eam, quae
Nunc appellatur sapienta, quique per artem,
Fluctibus e tantis vitam tantisque tenebris,
In tam tranquillo et tam clara luce locavit.

Good sir, it was God, God it was, flrst found
That course of man's life, which now is renown'd
By name of wisdome; who by art reposed,
Our life in so cleare light, calme so composed,
From so great darknesse, so great waves opposed.

compared to God as he will deeme himselfe wrong to be depressed in the ranke of other creatures.  So much are we more jealous of our owne interest than of our Creators.  But we must tread this foolish vanitie under foot, and boldly shake off and lively reject those fond ridiculous foundations whereon these false opinions are built.  So long as man shall be perswaded to have meanes or power of himselfe, so long will he denie and never acknowledge what he oweth unto his Master: he shall alwaies (as the common saying is) make shift with his owne:  He must be stripped unto his shirt.  Let us consider some notable example of the effect of Philosophie.  Possidonius having long time been grieved with a painfull-lingring diseease which with the smarting paine made him wring his hands and gnash his teeth, thought to scorne grief with exclaiming and crying out against it: 'Doe what thou list, yet will I never say that thou art evil or paine.  He feeleth the same passions that my lackey doth, but he boasteth himselfe that at least he conteineth his tongue under the lawes of his sect.  Re succumbere non oportebat verbis gloriantem;/1  'It was not for him to yeeld in deeds, who had so braved it in words+.' Arcesilas lying sicke of the gowt, Carneades comming to visit him, and seeing him to frowne, supposing he had been angrie, was going away again, but he called him back, and shewing him his feet and breast, said unto him, 'There is nothing come from thence hither.  This hath somewhat a better garb;' for he feeleth himselfe grieved with sicknesse, and would faine be rid of it, yet is not his heart vanquished or weakned thereby, the other stands upon his stifnesse (as I feare) more verball than essentiall And Dionysius Heracleotes being tormented with a violent smarting in his eies, was at last perswaded to quit these Stoicke+ resolutions.      Be it supposed that Learning and Knowledge should worke those effects they speake of, that is, to blunt and abate the sharpnesse of those accidents or mischances that follow and attend us; doth she any more than
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. ii. c. 25. 

what ignorance effecteth much more evidently and simply?  The Philosopher Pyrrho being at sea, and by reason of a violent storme in great danger to be cast away, presented nothing unto those that were with him in the ship to imitate but the securitie of an Hog which was aboard, who, nothing at all dismaied, seemed to behold and outstare the tempest.  Philosophie after all her precepts gives us over to the examples of a Wrestler or of a Muletier, in whom we ordinarily perceive much lesse feeling of death, of paine, of grief, and other conveniences, and more undaunted constancie, than ever Learning or Knowledge could store a man withall, {common+} unlesse he were born and of himselfe through some naturall habitude prepared unto it.  What is the cause the tender members of a childe or limbs of a horse are much more easie and with lesse paine cut and incised than ours, if it be not ignorance?  How many, only through the power of imagination, have falne into dangerous diseases?  We ordinarily see diverse that will cause themselves to be let bloud, purged, and dieted, because they would be cured of diseases they never felt but in conceit; when essentiall and true maladies faile us, then Science and Knowledge lend us hers:  This colour or complexion (said she) presageth some rheumatike defluxion will ensue you:  This soultring-hot season menaceth you with some febricant commotion; this cutting of the vitall line of your left hand warneth you of some notable and approaching indisposition.  And at last she will roundly addresse herselfe unto perfect health; saying this youthly vigour and suddain joy cannot possibly stay in one place, her bloud and strength must be abated, for feare it turne you to some mischiefe.  Compare but the life of a man subject to these like imaginations, unto that of a day-laboring swaine, who followes his naturall appetites, who measureth all things onely by the present sense, and hath neither learning nor prognostications, who feeleth no disease but when he hath it: whereas the other hath often the stone imaginarily before he have it in his reines: as if it were not time 

enough to endure the sicknesse when it shall come, he doth in his fancie prevent the same, and beadlong runneth to meet with it.  What I speake of Physicke, the same may generally be applied and drawne to all manner of learning.  Thence came this ancient opinion of those Philosophers who placed chiefe felicitie in the knowledge of our judgements weaknesse.  My ignorance affords me as much cause of hope as of feare: and having no other regiment for my health than that of other men's examples, and of the events I see elsewhere in like occasions whereof I find some of all sorts: and relie upon the comparisons that are most favourable unto me.  I embrace health with open armes, free, plaine, and full, and prepare my appetite to enjoy it, by how much more it is now lesse ordinarie and more rare unto me: so far is it from me that I, with the bitternesse of some new and forced kind of life, trouble her rest and molest her ease.  Beasts do manifestly declare unto us how many infirmities our mindes agitation brings us.  That which is told us of those that inhabit Bresill, who die onely through age, which some impute to the clearnesse and calmnenesse of their aire, I rather ascribe to the calmenesse and clearnesse of their mindes, void and free from all passions, cares, toiling, and unpleasant labours, as a people that passe their life in a wonderfull kind of simplicitie and ignorance, without letters, or lawes and without Kings or any Religion. {noble_savage+} Whenc comes it (as we daily see by experience) that the rudest and grossest clownes are more tough, strong, and more desired in amorous executions; and that the love of a Muletier is often more accepted than that of a perfumed quaint courtier?  But because in the latter the agitation of his mind doth so distract, trouble, and wearie the force of his bodie, {Hamlet+} as it also troubleth and wearieth it selfe, who doth belie, or more commonly cast the same down even into madnesse, but her own promptitude, her point, her agilitie, and, to conclude, her proper force?  Whence proceeds the subtilest follie but from the subtilest wisdome? {PlainDealer+} As from the extremest 

friendships proceed the extremest enmities and from the soundest healths the mortallest diseases, so from the rarest and quickest agitations of our mindes ensue the most distempered and outrageous frenzies.  There wants but half a pegs turne to passe from the one to the other.  In mad mens actions we see how fitlie follie suteth and meets with the strongest operations of our minde.  Who knowes not how unperceivable the neighbourhood between follie with the liveliest elevations of a free minde is, and the effects of a supreme and extraordinarie vertue.  Plato affirmeth that melancholy mindes are more excellent and discipliuable; so are there none more inclinable unto follie.  Diverse spirits, are seen to be overthrowne by their owne force and proper nimblenesse.  What a start hath one/1 of the most judicious, ingenious, and most fitted under the ayre of true ancient poesie, lately gotten by his owne agitation and selfe- gladnesse, above all other Italian Poets that have been of a long time?  Hath not he wherewith to be beholding unto this his killing vivacitie? unto this clearnesse that hath so blinded him? unto his exact and far-reaching apprehension of reasons which hath made him voide of reason? unto the curious and laborious pursute of Sciences, that have brought him unto sottishnesse? unto this rare aptitude to the exercises of the minde, which hath made him without minde or exercise? I rather spited than pitied him when I saw him at Ferrara, in so piteous a plight, that he survived himselfe; misacknowledging both himselfe and his labours, which unwitting to him, and even to his face, have been published both uncorrected and maimed.  Will you have a man healthy, will you have him regular, and in constant and safe condition? overwhelme him in the darke pit of idlenesse and dulnesse.  We must be besotted ere we can become wise, and dazzled before we can be led.  And if a man shall tell me that the commoditie to have the appetite cold to griefes and wallowish to evils, drawes this incommoditie after it, it is also consequently the same
-----
1 TORQUATO TASSO. 

that makes us lesse sharpe and greedie to the enjoying of good and of pleasures:  It is true but the miserie of our condition beareth that we have not so much to enjoy as to shun, and that extreme voluptuousnesse doth not so much pinch us as a light smart:  egnius homines bona quam mala sentiunt:/1
'Men have a duller feeling of a good turne than of an ill;' we have not so sensible a feeling of perfect health as we have of the least sicknesse,'

     -----pungit
In cute vix sumnma violatum plagula corpus
Quando valere nihil quemquam movet.  Hoc juvat unum
Quod me non torquet latus aut pes; caetera quisquam
Vix queat aut sanum sese aut sentire valentem.

A light stroke that dooth scarce the top-skin wound,
Greeves the gall'd bodie, when in health to be,
Doth scarce move any: onely ease is found.
That neither side nor foot torementeth me:
Scarce any in the rest can feel he's sound.

Nimium boni est, cui nihil est mali.

He hath but too much good,
Whom no ill hath withstood.

exempted from this fever; and so of others.  I say therefore, that ifsimplicitie+ directeth us to have no evill, it also addresseth us according to our condition to a most happy estate.  Yet ought it not to be imagined so dull and heavie than the altogether senselesse.  And Crantor had great reason to withstand the unsensiblenesse of Epicurus, if it were so deeply rooted that the approching and birth of evils might gainsay it.  I commend not that unsensiblenesse which is neither possible nor to be desired.  I am well pleased not to be sicke, but if I be, I will know that I am so; and if I be cauterized or cut, I will feel it.  Verily, he that should root out the knowledge of evill should therewithall extirp the knowledge of voluptuousnesse, and at last bring man to nothing.  Istud nihil dolere, non sine magna mercede contingit immanitatis in animo, stuporis in corpore:/1 'This verse point, not to be offended or grieved with any thing, befals not freely to a man without either inhumanitie in his minde or senselesnesse in his bodie.'  Sicknesse is not amiss unto man, comming in her turne; nor is he alwaies to shun pain, nor ever to follow sensualitie.  It is a great advantage for the honour of ignorance that Science it selfe throwes us into her armes when she findes her selfe busie to make us strong against the assaults of evils: she is forced to come to this composition: to yeeld us the bridle, and give us leave to shrowd our selves in her lap, and submit ourselves unto her favour, to shelter us against the assaults and injuries of fortune.  For what meaneth she else when she perswades us to withdraw our thought from the evils that possesse us, and entertains them with foregon pleasures, and stead us as a comfort of present evils with the remembrance of forepast felicities, and call a vanished content to our help, for to oppose it against that which vexeth us?  Levationes, aegritudinum in avocatione a cogitanda molestia, et revocatione ad contemplandas voluptates ponit./2 'Eases of grief she reposeth either in calling from the thought of offence, or calling to the contemplations of some pleasures.
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. iii. 2 Ibid. 

Unlesse it be that where force fails her, she will use policie and shew a tricke of nimblenesse and turne away, where the vigor both of her bodie and armes shall faile her.  For not onely to a strict Philosopher, but simply to any setled man, when he by experience feeleth the burning alteration of a hot fever, what currant paiment is it to pay him with the remembrance of the sweetnesse of Greeke wine?  It would rather empaire his bargaine.

Che ricordarsi il ben doppia la noia.

For to thinke of our joy,
Redoubles our annoy.

Suavis est laborum praeteritorum memoria./1

Of labours overpast,
Remembrance hath sweet taste

us, and record with pleasure and delight what soever was for us.' And this is true, Memini etiam quae nolo; oblivisci non possum quae volo:/1 'I remember even those things I would not; and can not forget what I would.' And whose counsell is this? his, Qui se unus sapientem profiteri sit ausus:/1 'Who only durst professe himselfe a wise man'

Qui genus humanum ingenio superavit, et omnes
Praestrinaeit stellas, exortas uti aetherius Sol./2

Who from all mankind bare for wit the prize,
And dim'd the stars as when skies Sunne doth rise.

Iners malorum remedium ignorantia est./3

Of ills a remedie by chance,
And verie dull is ignorance.

     ----- potare, et spargere flores
Incipiam, patiarque vel inconsultus haberi./4

I will begin to strew flowers, and drinke free,
And suffer witlesse, thriftlesse, held to bee.

and contentedly with his families wanting of no dutie or office both towards his own houshold and strangers, verie carefully preserving himselfe from all hurtfull things: notwithstanding through some alteration of his senses or spirits, he was so possessed with this fantasticall conceipt or obstinate humour that he ever and continually thought to be amongst the Theatres, where he still saw all manner of spectacles, pastimes, sports and the best Comedies of the world.  But being at last by the skill of Physitians cured of this maladie, and his offending humour Purged, he could hardly be held from putting them in suite, to the end they might restore him to the former pleasures and contents of his imagination.

     ----- pol me occidistis amici,
Non servastis, ait, cui sic extorta voluptas,
Et demptus per vim menti gratissimus error./1

You have not sav'd me, friends, but slaine me quite,
(Quoth he) from whom so reft is my delight;
And errour purg'd, which best did please my spright.

'E Tp op--tim Yip inai, aL Tor/2

The sweetest life I wis,
In knowing nothing is. {ignorance=bliss+}

doth in generall tearmes allow, this last remedy which she ordaineth for all manner of necessities; that is, to make an end of that life which we cannot endure. {Hemingway+} Placet? pare: placet? quacunque vis exi. Pungit dolor? vel fodiat sane: si nudus es, da jugulum:  sin tectus armis vulcaniis, id est, fortitudine, resiste:/1 'Doth it like you? obey: doth it not like you? get out as you will; doth griefe pricke you? and let it pierce you too: if you be naked, yeeld your throat: but if you be covered with the armour of Vulcan, that is, with fortitude, resist.' And that saving, used of the Graecians in their banquets, which they aply unto it,  Aut bibat, aut abeat:/2 'Either let him carouse, or carry him out of the house:'  which rather fitteth the mouth of a Gascoine, who very easily doth change the letter B into V, than that of Cicero:

Vivere si recte nescis, discede peritis:
Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti:
Tempus abire tibi est, largius aequo
Ridat, et pulset lascivia descentius aetas:/3

Live well you cannot, them that can, give place;      Well have you sported, eaten well, drunke well: 'Tis time you part; lest wanton youth with grace
Laugh at, and knock you that with swilling dwell.

      ------ Democritum postquam matura vetustas
Admonuit memorem, motus lanquescere mentis.
Sponte sua letho caput obvius obtulit ipse./4

When ripe age put Democritus in minde,
That his mindes motions fainted, he to finde
His death went willing, and his life resign'd.

It is that which Anthisthenes said, that a man must provide himselfe either of wit to understand or of a halter to hang himselfe:  And that which Chrysippus alleaged upon the speech of the Poet Tyrtaius,

De la vertue, ou de mort approcher./1

Or vertue to approch,
Or else let death incroch.

Di citatorie piene e di libelli,
Dessamine, e di carte, di procure
Hanno mani e il seno, e gran fastelli
Di chiose, di consioli e di letture,
Per cui le faculta de' poverelli
Non sono mai ne le citta sicure,
Hanno dietro e dinanzi e d'ambi i lati,
Notai, procuratori, e advocate./1

Their hands and bosoms with writs and citations,
With papers, libels, proxies, full they beare,
And bundels great of strict examiunations,
Of glosses, counsels, readings here and there.
Whereby in townes poore men of occupations
Possesse not their small goods secure from feare,
Before, behind, on each sides Advocates,
Proctors, and Notaries hold up debates. {pedants+} {lawyers+}

man-kinde: is the way whereby man hath headlong cast himselfe downe into eternall damnation. {original_sin+} Pride is his losse and corruption: it is pride that misleadeth him from common waies; that makes him to embrace all new fangles, and rather chuse to be chiefe of a straggling troupe and in the path of perdition, and be regent of some erroneous sect, and a teacher of falsehood, than a disciple in the schoole of truth, and suffer himselfe to be led and directed by the hand of others in the ready beaten highway. It is haply that which the ancient Greeke proverb implieth, Seto-iaatuopia, Ka8a7rep 7rarp), -r Tv(p,; sef9e7-at: 'Superstition obaieth pride as a father.  Oh overweaning, how much doest thou hinder us?  Socrates being advertised that the God of wisdome had attributed the name of wise unto him, was thereat much astonished, and diligently searching and rouzing up himselfe, and ransacking the very secrets of his heart, found no foundation or ground for this divine sentence.  He knew some that were as just, as temperate, as valiant and as wise as he, and more eloquent, more faire and more profitable to their country.  In fine he resolved that he was distinguished from others, and reputed wise, onely because he did not so esteeme himselfe:  And that his God deemed the opinion of science and wisdome a singular sottishnes in man; and that his best doctrine was the doctrine of ignorance, and simplicitie+ his greatest wisdome.  The sacred writ pronounceth them to be miserable in this world that esteeme themselves. 'Dust and ashes,' saith he, 'what is there in thee thou shouldest so much glory of?  And in another place God hath made man like unto a shadowe, of which who shall judge when, the light being gone, it shall vanish away?  Man is a thing of nothing.  So far are our faculties from conceiving that high Deitie, that of our Creators works, those beare his marke best, and are most his owne, which we understand least.  It is an occasion to induce Christians to beleeve, when they chance to meet with any incredible thing, that it is so much the more according unto reason, by how much 

more it is against humane reason.  If it were according unto reason, it were no more a wonder; and were it to be matched, it re no more singular. Melius scitur Deus nesciendo, 'God is better knowen by our not knowing him,' saith S.  Augustine: and Tacitus, Sanctius est ac reverentius de actis deorum credere quam scire:/1  'It is a course of more holinesse and reverence to hold beleefe than to have knowledge of Gods actions.' And Plato deemes it to be a vice of impiety overcuriously to enquire after God, after the world, and after the first causes of things. Atque illum quidem parentem hujus universitatis invenire, difficile; et quum jam inveneris, indicare in vulgus, nefas:/2 ''Both it is difficult to finde out the father of this universe, and when you have found him, it is unlawfull to reveale Him to the vulgar,' saith Cicero.  We easily pronounce puissance, truth, and justice; they be words importing some great matter, but that thing we neither see nor conceive.  We say that God feareth, that God will be angry, and that God loveth.

Immortalia mortali sermone notantes,/3

Who with tearmes of mortality
Note things of immortality.

God?  How, temperance+, which is the moderation of corporall sensualities, which have no place at all in his God-head?  Fortitude+ patiently to endure sorrowes, and labours and dangers, appertaineth little unto him, these three things no way approaching him, having no accesse unto him.  And therefore Aristotle holds him to be equally exempted from vertue and from vice. Neque gratia, neque ira teneri potest, quod quae talia essent, imbecilla essent omnia:/1 'Nor can he be possessed with favor and anger; for, all that is so is but weake.'  The participation which we have of the knowledge, of truth, what soever she is, it is not by our owne strength we have gotten it; God hath sufficiently taught it us in that he hath made choice of the simple, common, and ignorant to teach us His wonderfull secrets.  Our faith hath not been purchased by us: it is a gift proceeding from the liberality of others.  It is not by our discourse or understanding that we have received our religion, it is by a forreine authority and commandement.  The weaknesse of our judgement helps us more than our strength to compasse the same, and our blindnesse more than our clear-sighted eies.  It is more by the meanes of our ignorance than of our skill that we are wise in heavenly knowledge.  It is no marvell if our naturall and terrestriall meanes cannot conceive the supernaturall or apprehend the celestial knowledge.  Let us adde nothing of our own unto it but obedience and subjection: for (as it is written) 'I will confound the wisdome of the wise, and destroy the understanding of the prudent.  Where is the wise? where is the scribe, where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made the wisdome of this world foolishuesse? For seeing the world by wisdome knew not God, in the wisdome of God, it hath pleased Him, by the vanity of preaching, to save them that beleeve. Yet must I see at last whether it be in mans power to finde what he seekes for: and if this long search, wherein he hath continued so many ages, hath enriched him with any new strength or solid truth:  I am perswaded, if be speake in
-----
1 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. i. 2 1 COR. i. 19-21. 

conscience, he will confesse that all the benefit he hath gotten by so tedious a pursuit hath been that he hath learned to know his owne weaknesse. That ignorance which in us was naturall, we have with long study confirmed and averred.  It hath happened unto those that are truly learned, as it hapneth unto eares of corne, which as long as they are empty, grow and raise their head aloft, upright and stout; but if they once become full and bigge with ripe corne, they begin to humble and droope downeward.  So men having tried and sounded all, and in all this chaos and huge heape of learning and provision of so infinite different things, found nothing that is substantiall, firme, and steadie, but all vanitie, have renounced their presumption, and too late known their naturall condition. {Pope+} It is that which Velleius upbraids Cotta and Cicero withall, that they have learnt of Philo to have learned nothing.  Pherecydes, one of the seven wise men, writing to Thales even as he was yeelding up the ghost, 'I have,' saith he, 'appoynted my friends, as soon as I shal be layed in my grave, to bring thee all my writings.  If they please thee and the other sages, publish them; if not, conceale them.  They containe no certainties nor doe they any whit satisfie mee.  My profession is not to know the truth nor to attaine it.  I rather open than discover things.  The wisest that ever was, being demanded what he knew, answered, he knew that he knew nothing. He verified what some say, that the greatest part of what we know is the least part of what we know not: that is, that that which we thinke to know is but a parcel, yea, and a small particle, of our ignorance. 'We know things in a dreame' saith Plato, 'and we are ignorant of them in truth:. Omnes pene veteres nihil cognosci, nihil percipi, nihil sciri posse dixerunt angustos sensus, imbecilles animos, brevia curricula vitae:/1 'Almost all the ancients affirmed nothing may be knowen, nothing perceived, nothing understood: that our senses, are narrow, our mindes are weake, and the race of our life is short.' Cicero himselfe, who ought
-----
1 CIC.  Acad.  Ou. 1. i. 

all he had unto learning, Valerius saith, that in his age he begun to disesteeme letters: and whilst he practised them, it was without bond to any speciall body, following what seemed probable unto him, now in the one and now in the other sect; ever holding himselfe under the Academies doubtfulnesse.  Dicendum est, sed ita ut nihil affirmem; quaeram omnia, dubitans plerumque, et mihi diffidens:/1 'Speake I must, but so as I avouch nothing, question all things, for the most part in doubt+ and distrust of my selfe.  I should have too much adoe if I would consider man after his owne fashion, and in grose:' which I might doe by his owne rule, who is wont to judge of truth, not by the weight or value of voices, but by the number.  But leave we the common people,

Qui vigilans stertit,/2

Who snoare while they are awake.

Mortua cui vita est, prope jam vivo atque videnti:/3

Whose life is dead while yet they see,
And in a manner living be.

They have instructed the same with arts and sciences, as also by example of their wonderfull manners and life.  I will but make accompt of such people, of their witnesse and of their experience.  Let us see how far they have gone, and what holdfast they have held by.  The maladies and defects which we shall finde in that college, the world may boldly allow them to be his. Whosoever seekes for any thing, commeth at last to this conclusion and saith, that either he hath found it, or that it cannot be found, or that he is still in pursuit after it.  All philosophy is divided into these three kindes.  Her puprose is to seeke out the truth, the knowledge and the certainty. The Peripatetike, the Epicureans, the Stoikes+ and others have thought they had found it.  These have established the sciences that we have, and as of certaine knowledges have treated of them; Clitomachus, Carneades, and the Academikes have despaired the finding of it, and judged that truth could not be conceived by our meanes.  The end of these is weaknesse and ignorance.  The former had more followers and the worthiest sectaries.  Pyrrho and other sceptikes, or epechistes, whose doctrine or manner of teaching many auncient learned men have thought to have beene drawne from Homer, from the seaven wise men, from Archilochus and Euripides, to whom they joyne Zeno, Democritus, and Xenophanes, say that they are still seeking after truth.  These judge that those are infinitely deceived who imagine they have found it, and that the second degree is over boldly vaine in affirming that mans power is altogether unable to attaine unto it.  For to establish the measure of our strength to know and distinguish of the difficulty of things is a great, a notable and extreme science, which they doubt whether man be capable thereof or no.

Nil sciri quisquis putat, id quoque nescit,
An sciri possit, quo se nil scire fatetur./1

Who thinks nothing is knowne, knowes not that
Whereby hee Grauntes he knowes nothing if it knowne may bee.

     That ignorance which knoweth, judgeth, and condemneth it selfe, is not an absolute ignorance: for to be so, she must altogether be ignorant of her selfe.  So that the profession of the Pyrrhonians is ever to waver, to doubt, and to enquire; never to be assured of any thing, nor to take any warrant of himself.  Of the three actions or faculties of the soule, that is to say, the imaginative, the concupiscible, and the consenting, they allow and conceive the two former: the last they hold and defend to be ambiguous, without inclination or approbation either of one or other side, be it never so light.  Zeno in jesture painted forth his imagination upon this division of the soules faculties: the open and outstretched hand was apparance; the hand halfe-shut, and fingers somewhat bending, consent; the fist closed, comprehension: if the fist of the left hand were closely clinched together, it signified Science.  Now this situation of their judgement, straight and inflexible, receiving all objects with application or consent, leads them unto their Ataraxie, which is the condition of a quiet and settled life, exempted from the agitations which we receive by the impression of the opinion and knowledge we imagine to have of things; whence proceed feare, avarice, envie, immoderate desires, ambition, pride, superstition, love of novelties, rebellion, disobedience, obstinacie, and the greatest number of corporall evils: yea, by that meane they are exempted from the jealousie of their owne discipline, for they contend but faintly: they feare nor revenge nor contradiction in the disputations.  When they say that heavy things descend downward, they would be loth to be beleeved, but desire to be contradicted, thereby to engender doubt and suspence of judgement, which is their end and drift.  They put forth their propositions but to contend with those they imagine wee hold in our conceipt.  If you take theirs, then will they undertake to maintaine the contrarie all is one to them, nor will they give a penny to chuse.  If you propose that snow is blacke, they will argue on the other side that it is white. lf you say it is neither 

one nor other, they will maintaine it to be both.  If by a certaine judgement you say that you cannot tell, they will maintaine that you can tell.  Nay, if by an affirmative axiome you swear that you stand in some doubt, they will dupute that you doubt not of it, or that you cannot judge or maintaine that you are in doubt.  And by this extremitie of doubt, which staggereth it selfe, they separate and divide themselves from many opinions, yea from those which divers ways have maintained both the doubt and the ignorance. Why shall it not be granted then (say they) as to Dogmatists, or Doctrine-teachers, for one to say greene and another yellow, so for them to doubt?  Is there any thing can be proposed unto you, either to allow or refuse which may not lawfully be considered as ambiguous and doubtfull?  And whereas others be carried either by the custome of their countries or by the institution of their parents, or by chance, as by a tempest, without choyce or judgement, yea sometimes before the age of discretion, to such and such another opinion, to the Stoike or Epicurean Sect, to which they finde themselves more engaged, subjected, or fast tyed, as to a prize they cannot let goe:  Ad quamcunque disciplinam, velut Tempestate, delati, ad eam tanquam ad saxum adhaerescunt: /1 'Being carried as it were by a Tempest to any kinde of doctrine, they sticke close to it as it were to a rocke.' Why shall not these likewise be permitted to maintaine their libertie and consider of things without dutie or compulsion?Hoc liberiores et solutiores, quod integra illis, est judicandi potestatas:/2'They are so much the freer and at libertie, for that their power of judgement is kept entire.' Is it not some advantage for one to finde himselfe disengaged from necessitie which brideleth others:  Is it not better to remaine in suspence than to entangle himselfe in so many errours that humane fantasia hath brought forth?  Is it not better for a man to suspend his owne perswasion than to meddle with these sedicious and quarrellous divisions?  What shall I chuse? Mary, what you list,
-----1
CIC.  Acad.  Qu. l. x. 2 Ibid. 

soyoun chuse very foolish answer: to which it seemeth nevertheless that all Dogmatisme arriveth; by which it is not lawfull for you to bee ignorant of that we know not.  Take the best and strongest side, it shall never be so sure but you shall have occasion to defend the same, to close and combat a hundred and a hundred sides?  Is it not better to keepe out of this confusion? You are suffered to embrace as your honour and life Aristotles opinion upon the eternitie of the Soule, and to belie and contradict whatsoever Plato saith concerning that; and shall they be interdicted to doubt of it?  If it be lawfull for Panaecius to maintaine his judgement about auspices, dreames, oracles, and prophecies, whereof the Stoikes make no doubt at all: wherfore shall not a wise man dare that in all things which this man dareth in such as he hath learned of his masters, confirmed and established by the general consent of the schoole whereof he is a sectary and a professor? If it be a childe that judgeth, he wots not what it is; if a learned man, he is forestalled.  They have reserved a great advantage for themselves in the combat, having discharged themselves of the care how to shroud themselves. They care not to be beaten, so they may strike againe: and all is fish that comes to net with them.  If they overcome, your proposition halteth; if you, theirs is lame; if they faile, they verifie ignorance; if you, she is verified by you; if they prove that nothing is knowen, it is very well; if they cannot prove it, it is good alike: Vt quum in eadem re paria contrariis in partibus momenta inveniuntur, facilius ab utraque parte assertio sustineatur;/1 XXXX
'So as when the same matter the like weight and moment is found on divers parts, we may the more easily hold with avouching on both parts.' And they suppose to find out more easily why a thing is false than true, and that which is not than that which is: and what they beleeve not, than that what they beleeve.  Their manner of speech is, 'I confirme nothing. It is no more so than thus, or neither:  I
-----
1 CIC.  Acad.  Qu. 1. x 

conceive it not; apparances are every where alike.  The law of speaking pro or contra is all one. 'Nothing seemeth true that may not seeme false. Their sacramental word is c7rcXco; which is as much to say as I hold and stir not.  Behold the burdens of their songs and other such like.  Theyr effects is a pure, entire, and absolute surceasing and suspence of judgement. They use their reason to enquire and to debate, and not to stay and choose. Whosoever shall imagine a perpetuall confession of ignorance, and a judgement upright and without staggering, to what occasion soever may chance, that man conceives the true Pyrrhonisme.  I expound this fantazy as plaine as I can, because many deeme it hard to be conceived: and the authors themselves represent it somewhat obscurely and diversly.  Touching the actions of life, in that they are after the common sort, they are lent and applied to naturall inclinations, to the impulsion and constraint of passions, to the constitutiones of lawes and customes, and to the tradition of arts: Non enim nos Deus ista scire, sed tantummodo uti voluit:/1 'For God would not have us know these things, but only use them.' By such meanes they suffer their common actions to be directed without any conceit or judgement, which is the reason that I cannot well sort unto this discourse what is said of Pyrrho.  They faine him to be stupide and unmovable, leading a kinde of wild and unsociable life, not shunning to be hit with carts, presenting himselfe unto downefalls, refusing to conforme himselfe to the lawes.  It is an endearing of his discipline.  Hee would not make himselfe a stone or a blocke, but a living, discoursing, and reasoning man, enjoying all pIeasures and naturall commodities, busying himselfe with and using all his corporall and spirituall parts in rule and right.  The fantasticall and imaginary and false privileges which man hath usurped unto himselfe to sway, to appoint, and to establish, he hath absolutely renounced and quit them.  Yet is there no Sect but is enforced to allow her wise Sectary, in chiefe to follow
-----
1 CIC.  Divin. 1. i. 

diverse things nor comprehended, nor perceived, nor allowed, if he will live.  And if he take shipping, he follows his purpose, not knowing whether it shall be profitable or no: and yeeldes to this, that the ship is good, the pilote is skilfull, and that the season is fit, circumstances only probable.  After which he is bound to goe and suffer himselfe to be removed by apparances, alwaies provided they have no expresse contrariety in them. Hee hath a body, he hath a soule, his senses urge him forward, his minde moveth him.  Although he finde not this proper and singular marke of judging in himselfe, and that he perceive he should not engage his consent seeing some falsehood may be like unto this truth: hee ceaseth not to conduct the offices of his life fully and commodiously.  How many arts are there which professe to consist more in conjecture than in the science; that distinguish not betweene truth and falsehood, but only follow seeming? There is both true and false (say they), and there are meanes in us to seeke it out, but not to stay it when we touch it.  It is better for us to suffer the order of the world to manage us without further inquisition. A mind warranted from prejudice hath a marvellous preferment to tranquillity. Men that censure and controule their judges doe never duly submit unto them.  How much more docile and tractable are simple and uncurious mindes found both towards the lawes of religion and Politike decrees, than these over-vigilant and nice wits, teachers of divine and humane causes?  There is nothing in mans invention wherein is so much likelybood, possibilities and profit.  This representeth man bare and naked, acknowledging his naturall weaknesse, apt to receive from above some strange power, disfurnished of all humane knowledge, and so much the more fitte to harbour divine understanding, disannulling his judgement, that so he may give more place unto faith. Neither misbeleeving nor establishing any doctrine or opinion repugnant unto common lawes and observances, humble, obedient, disciplinable and studious; a sworne enemy to Heresie, and by consequence exempting himselfe from all vaine 

and irreligious opinions, invented and brought up by false Sects.  It is a white sheet prepared to take from the finger of God what form so ever it shall please him to imprint therein.  The more we addresse and commit our selves to God, and reject our selves, the better it is for us.  Accept (saith Ecclesiastes) in good part things both in shew and taste, as from day to day they are presented unto thee, the rest is beyond thy knowledge. Dominus novit cogitationes hominum, quoniam vanae sunt:/1 'The Lord knowes the thoughts of men, that they are vayne.'  See how of three generall Sects of Philosophie, two make expresse profession of doubt and ignorance and in the third, which is the Dogmatists, it is easie to be discerned that the greatest number have taken the face of assurance; onely because they could set a better countenance on the matter.  They have not so much gone about to establish any certainty in us, as to shew how farre they had waded in seeking out the truth.
Quam docti fingunt magis quam norunt: 'Which the learned doe rather conceit than know.'
     Timaeus, being to instruct Socrates of what he knowes of the Gods, of the world, and of men, purposeth to speake of it as one man to another; and that it sufficeth, if his reasons be as probable as another mans.  For exact reasons are neither in his hands, nor in any mortall man; which one of his Sectaries hath thus imitated:  Vt potero, explicabo: nec tamen, ut Pythius Apollo, certa ut sint et fixa quae dixero; sed ut homunculus, probabilia conjectura sequens:/2 'As I can, I will explaine them; yet not as Apollo giving oracles, that all should bee certaine and set downe, that I say but as a meane man who followes likelihood by his conjecture.' And that upon the discourse of the contempt of death; a naturall and popular discourse.  Elsewhere he hath translated it, upon Platoes very words: Si forte, de Deorum natura ortuque mundi disserentes, minus id quod habemus in animo consequimur,
-----
1 Psalm xcii. 11. 2 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. i. 

haud erit mirum.  AEquum est enim meminisse, et me, qui disseram, hominem esse, et vos qui judicetis: ut, si probabilia dicentur, nihil ultra requiratis/1 'It will be no marvell if arguing of the nature of Gods and originall of the world, we scarcely reach to that which in our minde we comprehend; for it is meet we remember that both I am a man who am to argue, and you who are to judge, so as you seeke no further, if I speake but things likely.' Aristotle ordinarily hoardeth us up a number of other opinions and other beleefes, that so he may compare his unto it, and make us see how farre he hath gone further, and how neere he comes unto true-likelyhood. For truth is not judged by authorities nor by others testimonie.  And therefore did Epicurus religiously avoyd to aleadge any in his compositions.  He is the Prince of Dogmatists, and yet we learne of him that, to know much breedes an occasion to doubt more.  He is often seene seriously to shelter himselfe under so inextricable obscurities that his meaning cannot be perceived. In effect, it is a Pyrrhonisme under a resolving forme.  Listen to Ciceroes protestation, who doth declare us others fantasies by his owne.Qui requirunt, quid de quaque re ipsi sentiamus; curiosius id faciunt, quam necesse est. Haec in Philosophia ratio contra omnia disserendi, nullamque rem aperte judicandi, profecta a Socrate, repetita ab Arcesila, confirmata a Carneade, usque ad nostram viget aetatem.  Hi sumus, qui omnibus veris falsa quaedam adiuncta esse dicamus, tanta similitudine, ut in iis nulla insit certe judicandi et assentiendi nota:/2  'They that would know what we conceit of everything, use more curiosity than needs.  This course in Philosophy to dispute against all things, to judge eexpressly of nothing, derived from Socrates, renewed by Arcesilas, confirmed by Carneades, is in force till our time: we are those that aver some falsehood entermixt with every truth, and that with such likenesses as there is no set note in those things for any assuredly to give judgement or assent.' Why hath not Aristotle alone, but the
-- ---
1 CIC.  Univers. 2 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. i. 

greatest number of Philosophers, affected difficulty, unlesse it be to make the vanity of the subject to prevaile, and to ammuse the our curiosity of our minde, seeking to feed it by gnawing so raw and bare a bone?  Clytomachus affirmed that he could never understand by the writings of Carneades, what opinion he was of.  Why hath Epicurus interdicted facility unto his Sectaries? And wherefore hath Heraclitus beene surnamed O'KOTCiV S, 'a darke mysty crowded fellow'?  Difficulty is a coine that wise men make use of, as juglers doe with passe and repasse, because they will not display the vanity of their art, and wherewith humane foolishnesse is easily apaid.

Clarus ob obscuram linguam, magis inter inanes,
Omnia enim stolidi magis admirantur amantgue.
Inversis quae sub verbi; latitantia cernunt./1

For his darke speech much prais'd, but of th' unwise;
For fooles doe all still more admire and prize
That under words turn'd topsie-turvie lies.

seriously examine and judge of; deeming all other apprentiships as subsequents and of supererogation in regard of that Parum mihi placeant ex literae quae ad virtutem doctoribus nihil profuerunt: 'That learning pleaseth me but a little, which nothing profiteth the teachers of it unto vertue.  Most of the arts have thus beene contemned by knowledge it selfe, for they thought it not amisse to exercise their mindes in matters wherein was no profitable solidity. {PlainDealer+} As for the rest, some have judged Plato a dogmatist, others a doubter; some a dogmatist in one thing, and some a doubter in another.  Socrates, the fore-man of his Dialogues doth ever aske and propose his disputation; yet never concluding, nor ever satisfying, and saith he hath no other science but that of opposing.  Their author, Homer, hath equally grounded the foundations of all sects of philosophy, thereby to shew how indifferent he was which way he went.  Some say that of Plato arose ten diverse sects.  And as I thinke, never was instruction wavering and nothing avouching if his be not.  Socrates was wont to say that when midwives begin once to put in practice the trade to make other women bring forth children, themselves become barren.  That be, by the title of wise, which the gods had conferred upon him, had also in his man-like and mentall love shaken off the faculty of begetting:  Being well pleased to afford all helpe and favor to such as were engenderers; to open their nature, to suple their passages, to ease the issue of their child-bearing, to judge thereof, to baptise the same, to foster it, to strengthen it, to swathe it, and to circumcise it, exercising and handling his instrument at the perill and fortune of others.  So is it with most authors of this third kinde, as the ancients have well noted by the writings of Anaxagoras, Democritus, Parmenides, Xenophanes, and others.  They have a manner of writing doubtfull both in substance and intent, rather enquiring than instructing: albeit here and there they enterlace their stile with dogmaticall cadences.  And is not that as well seene in Seneca and 

in Plutarke?  How much doe they speake sometimes of one face and sometimes of another, for such as looke neere unto it?  Those who reconcile lawyers, ought first to have reconciled them every one unto himselfe.  Plato hath (in my seeming) loved this manner of philosophying dialogue wise in good earnest, that thereby he might more decently place in sundry mouthes the diversity and variation of his owne conceits.  Diversly to treat of matters is as good and better as to treat them conformably; that is to say, more copiously and more profitably.  Let us take example by our selves.  Definite sentences make the last period of dogmaticall and resolving speech; yet see wee that those which our Parliaments present unto our people as the most exemplare and fittest to nourish in them the reverence they owe unto this dignitie, especially by reason of the sufficiencie of those persons which exercise the same, taking their glory, not by the conclusion, which to them is dayly, and is common to al judges as much as the debating of diverse and agitations of contrary reasonings of law causes will admit. And the largest scope for reprehensions of some Philosophers against others, draweth contradictions and diversities with it, wherein every one of them findeth himself so entangled, either by intent to show the wavering of mans minde above all matters, or ignorantly forced by the volubilitie and incomprehensiblenesse of all matters:  What meaneth this burden?  In a slippery and gliding place let us suspend our beliefe.  For as Euripides saith, Les oeuvres de Dieu en diverges Facons, nous donnent des traverses.  Gods workes doe travers our imaginations, And crosse our workers in divers different fashions.      Like unto that which Empedocles was wont often to scatter amongst his bookes, as moved by a divine furie and forced by truth.  No, no, we feel nothing, we see nothing; all things are hid from us; there is not one that we may establish, how and what it is.  But 

returning to this holy word,Cogitatione mortalium timidae, et incertae adinventiones nostrae, et providentiae/1   The thoughts of mortal men are feareful, our devices and foresights are uncertaine.  It must not be thought strange if men disparing of the goale have yet taken pleasure in the chase of it; studie being in itselfe a pleasing occupation, yea so pleasing that amid sensualities the Stoikes forbid also that which comes from the exercise of the minde, and require a bridle to it, and finde intemperance in over much knowledge.  Democritus having at his table eaten some figges that tasted of hony, began presently in his minde to seeke out whence this unusuall sweetness in them might proceed; and to be resolved, rose from the board, to view the place where those figges had beene gathered. His maide servant noting this alteration in her master, smilingly said unto him, that he should no more busie himselfe about it; the reason was, she had laide them in a vessell where hony had beene; whereat he seemed to be wroth in that shee had deprived him of the occasion of his intended search, and robbed his curiositie of matter to worke upon. 'Away,' quoth he unto her, 'thou hast much offended mee; yet will I not omit to finde out the cause, as if it were naturally so.  Who perhaps would not have missed to finde some likely or true reason for a false and supposed effect.  This storie of a famous and great Philosopher doth evidently represent unto us this studious passion, which so doth ammuse us in pursuit of things, of whose obtaining wee despaire.  Plutarke reporteth a like example of one who would not be resolved of what he doubted, because hee would not lose the pleasure hee had in seeking it:  As another, that would not have his Physitian remove the thirst he felt in his ague, because he would not lose the pleasure he tooke in quenching the same with drinking. Satius est supervacua discere, quam nihil:/2 It is better to learne more than wee need than nothing at all.  Even as in all feeding, pleasure is alwayes alone and single
-----
1 Wisd. ix. 14. 2 SEN.  Epist. lxxxix. 

and all we take that is pleasant is not ever nourishing and wholesome: So likewise, what our minde drawes from learning leaveth not to be voluptuous, although it neither nourish nor be wholesome.  Note what their saying is: 'The consideration of nature is a food proper for our mindes, it raiseth and puffeth us up, it makes us by the comparison, of heavenly and high things to disdaine base and low matters.  The search of hidden and great causes is very pleasant, yea unto him that attaines nought but the reverence and feare to judge of them.  These are the very words of their profession. The vaine image of this crazed curiositie is more manifestly seen in this other example, which they for honour-sake have so often in their mouths. Eudoxus wished, and praid to the Gods, that he might once view the Sunne neere at hand, to comprehend his forme, his greatnesse and his beautie: on condition he might immediately be burnt and consumed by it.  Thus with the price of his owne life would he attaine a Science, whereof both use and possession shall therewith bee taken from him; and for so sudden and fleeting knowledge lose and forgoe all the knowledges he either now hath, or ever hereafter may have.  I can not easily be perswaded that Epicurus, Plato, or Pythagoras have sold us their atomes, their ideas and their numbers for ready payment.  They were over wise to establish their articles of faith upon things so uncertaine and disputable.  But in this obscuritie and ignorance of the world, each of these notable men hath endeavoured to bring some kinde of shew or image of light; and have busied their mindes about inventions that might at least have a pleasing and wilie apparance, provided (notwithstanding it were false) it might be maintained against contrary oppositions:  Vnicuiquce ista pro ingenio finguntur, non ex Scientiae vi: 'These things are conceited by every man as his wit serves, not as his knowledge stretches and reaches. An ancient Phylosopher being blamed for professing that Philosophie, whereof in his judgement 

bee made no esteeme; answered, that that was true Philosophizing.  They have gone about to consider all, to ballance all, and have found that it was an occupation fitting the naturall curiositie which is in us.  Some things they have written for the behoofe of common societie, as their religions: And for this consideration was it reasonable that they would not throughly unfold common opinions, that so they might not breed trouble in the obedience of lawes and customes of their countries.  Plato treateth this mysterie in a very manifest kinde of sport.  For, where he writeth according to himselfe, he prescribeth nothing for certaintie:  When he institutes a Law giver, he borroweth a very swaying and avouching kinde of stile:  Wherein he boldly entermingleth his most fantasticall opinions; as profitable to perswade the common sort, as ridiculous to perswade himselfe:  Knowing how apt wee are to receive all impressions, and chiefly the most wicked and enormous. And therefore is he very carefull in his lawes that nothing bee sung in publike but Poesies the fabulous fictions of which tend to some profitable end: being so apt to imprint all manner of illusion in man's minde, that it is injustice not to feed them rather with commodious lies, than with lies either unprofitable or damageable.  He flatly saith in his Common-wealth that for the benefit of men, it is often necessarie to deceive them.  It is easie to distinguish how some Sects have rather followed truth, and some profit; by which the latter have gained credit.  It is the miserie of our condition that often what offers it selfe unto our imagination for the likelyst, presents not it selfe unto it for the most beneficiall unto our life.  The boldest sects, both Epicurean, Pirrhonian and new Academike, when they have cast their accompt are compelled to stoope to the civill law.  There are other subjects which they have tossed, some on the left and some on the right hand, each one labouring and striving to give it some semblance, were it right or wrong:  For, having found nothing so secret, whereof they have not attempted 

to speak, they are many times forced to forge divers feeble and fond conjectures :  Not that themselves tooke them for a ground- worke, not to establish a truth, but for an exercise of their studie.  Non tam id sensisse, quod dicerent, quam exercere ingenia materiae difficultate videntur voluisse. 'They seem not so much to have thought as they said, as rather willing to exercise their wits in the difficulty of the matter.  And if it were not so taken, how should we cloke so great an inconstancie, varietie and vanity of opinions, which wee see to have beene produced by these excellent and admirable spirits?  As for example, What greater vanitie can there be than to goe about by our proportions and conjectures to guess at God?  And to governe both him and the world according to our capacitie and lawes? And to use this small scantlin of sufficiencie, which he hath pleased to impart unto our naturall condition, at the cost and charges or divinitie? And because we cannot extend our sight so farre as his glorious throne, to have removed him downe to our corruption and miseries?  Of all humane and ancient opinions concerning religion, I thinke that to have had more likelyhood and excuse, which knowledged and confessed God to be an incomprehensible power, chiefe beginning and preserver of all things; all goodness, all perfection; accepting in good part the honour and reverence which mortall men did yeeld him, under what usage, name and manner soever it was.

Iupiter omnipotens rerum, regumque, Deumque,
Progenitor, genitrixque./1

Almightie love is parent said to be
Of things, of Kings, of Gods, both he and she.

Heathen histories acknowledge dignitie, order, justice, prodigies, and oracles, employed for their benefit and instruction in their fabulous religion: God of hismercy daining, peradventure, to foster by his temporal blessings the budding and tender beginnings of such bruteknowledge as naturall reason gave them of him athwart the false images of their deluding dreames:  Not only false but impious and injurious are those which man hath forged and devised by his owne invention.  And of all religions Saint Paul found in credit at Athens, that which they had consecrated onto a ccrtaine hidden and unknowne divinitie seemed to be most excusable.  Pythagoras shadowed the truth somewhat neerer, judgeing that the knowledge of this first cause and Ensentium must be undefined, without any prescription or declaration. That it was nothing else but the extreme indevour of our imagination toward perfection, every one amplifying the idea thereof according to his capacitie. But if Numa undertooke to conforme the devotion of his people to this project, to joyne the same to a religion meerely mental without any prefixt object or materiall mixture, he undertooke a matter to no use.  Mans minde could never be maintained if it were still floting up and downe in this infinite deepe of shapeles conceits.  They must be framed onto her to some image according to her model.  The majesty of God hath in some sort suffered itself to be circumscribed to corporall limits:  His supernaturall and celestiall Sacraments beare signes of our terrestriall condition.  His adoration is exprest by offices and sensible words; for it is man that beleeveth and praieth.  I omit other arguments that are employed about this subject.  But I could hardly be made beleeve that the sight of our Crucifixes and pictures of that pittiful torment, that the ornaments and ceremonious motions in our Churches, that the voyces accomodated and suted to our thoughts-devotions, and this stirring of our senses, doth not greatly inflame the peoples soules with a religious passion of wonderous beneficiall good.  Of those to 

which they have given bodies, as necessity required amid this generall blindnesse, as for me; I should rather have taken part with those who worshipped the Sunne.

     -----la lumiere comnune,
L'ail du monde; et si Dieu au chef porte des yeux,
Les rayons du Soleil sont ses yeux radieux
Qui donnent vie a tous, nous maintiennent et gardent,
Et les faicts des humains en ce monde regardent:
Ce beau, ce grand Soleil, qui nous fait les saysons,
Selon qu'il entre ou sort de ses douze maysons:
Qui remplit l'univers de ses vertus cognues,
Qui d'un traict de ses yeux nous dissipe les nues:
L'espirit, l'ame du monde, ardent et flamboyant,
En la course d'un iour tout le Ciel tournoyant,
Plein d'immense grandeur, rond, vagabond et ferme:
Lequel tient dessoubs luy tout le monde pour terme,
En repos sans repos, oysif, et sans seiour,
Fils aisne de Nature, et le Pere du iour.

The common light,
The worlds eye: and if God beare eyes in his cheefe head,
His most resplendent eyes the Sunne-beames may be said,
Which unto all give life, which us maintaine and guard,
And in this world of men, the workes of men regard:
This great, this beauteous Sunne, which us our seasons makes,
As in twelve houses be ingresse or egresse takes;
Who with his Vertues knowne, doth fill this universe,
With one cast of his eyes doth us all clowds disperse:
The spirit, and the soule of this world, flaming, burning,
Round about heav'n in course of one dayes journey turning.
Of endlesse greatnesse full, round, moveable and fast:
Who all the world for bounds beneath himselfe hath pla'st:
In rest, without rest, and still more staid, without stay,
Of Nature th' eldest Childe, and Father of the day.

dy, and were new borne at divers seasons, and that the worlds were infinite in number.  Anaximenes deemed the ayre to be a God, which was created immense and always moving.  Anaxagoras was the first that held the description and manner of all things to be directed by the power and reason of a spirit infinite Alcmaeon hath ascribed divinity unto the Sunne, unto the Moone, unto Stars, and unto the Soule.  Pythagoras hath made God a spirit dispersed through the Nature of all things, whence our soules are derived.  Parmenides, a circle circumpassing the heavens, and by the heat of light maintaining the world.  Empedocles said the four Natures, whereof all things are made, to be Gods.  Protagoras, that he had nothing to say whether they were or were not, or what they were.  Democritus would sometimes say that the images and their circuitions were Gods, and othertimes this Nature, which disperseth these images, and then our knowledge and intelligence.  Plato scattereth his beliefe after diverse semblances.  In his Timaeus he saith that the worlds father could not be named.  In his Lawes that his being must not be enquired after.  And elsewhere in the said bookes he maketh the world, the heaven, the starres, the earth, and our soules, to be Gods; and besides, admitteth those that by ancient institutions have beene received in every commonwealth.  Xenophon reporteth a like difference of Socrates his discipline. Sometimes that Gods forme ought not to be inquired after; then he makes him infer that the Sunne is a God, and the Soule a God; othertimes that there is but one, and then more.  Speusippus, Nephew unto Plato, makes God to be a certaine power, governing all things, and having a soule.  Aristotle saith sometimes that it is the spirit, and sometimes the world; othertimes he appoynteth another ruler over this world, and sometimes he makes God to be the heat of heaven.  Xenocrates makes eight; five named amongst the planets, the sixth composed of all the fixed starres, as of his owne members; the seaventh and eighth the Sunne and the Moone.  Heraclides Ponticus doth but 

roame among his opinions, and in fine depriveth God of sense, and maks him remove and transchange himselfe from one forme to another; and then saith that is both heaven and earth.  Theophrastus in all his fantasies wandereth still in like irresolutions, attributing the worlds superintendency now to the intelligence, now to the heaven, and now to the starres.  Strabo, that it is Nature having power to engender, to augment and to diminish, without forme or sense.  Zeno, the naturall Law, commanding the good and prohibiting the evill; which Lawe is a breathing creature, and removeth the accustomed Gods, Iupiter, Iuno, and Vesta.  Diogenes Apolloniates, that it is Age.  Xenophanes makes God round, seeing, hearing not breathing, and having nothing common with humane Nature.  Aristo deemeth the forme of God to bee incomprehensible, and depriveth him of senses, and wotteth not certainely whether he bee a breathing soule or something else.  Cleanthes, sometimes reason, othertimes the World; now the soule of Nature, and other-while the supreme heat, enfoulding and containing all.  Perseus, Zenoes disciple, hath beene of opinion that they were surnamed Gods who had brought some notable good or benefit unto humane life, or had invented profitable things. Chrysippus made a confused huddle of all the foresaid sentences, and amongst a thousand formes of the Gods which he faineth, hee also accompteth those men that are immortalized.  Diagoras and Theodorus flatly denied that there were anie Gods:  Epicurus makes the Gods bright-shining, transparent, and perflable, placed as it were betweene two Forts, betweene two Worlds, safely sheltered from all blowes, invested with a humane shape, and with our members, which unto them are of no use.

Deum genus esse semper duxi, et dicam caelitum, Sed eos non curare opinor, quid agat humanum genus./1

I still thought and wil say, of Gods there is a kinde;
But what Our mankinde doth, I thinke they nothing minde. -----1 ENN. in CIC.  De Div. 1. ii.

     Trust to your Philosophie, boast to have hit the naile on the head; or to have found out the beane of this cake, to see this coile and hurly-burly of so many Philosophical wits.  The trouble or confusion of worldly shapes and formes hath gotten this of mee, that customes and conceipts differing from mine doe not so much dislike me as instruct me; and at what time I conferre or compare them together, they doe not so much puffe me up with pride as humble me with lowlinesse+.  And each other choyce, except that which commeth from the expresse hand of God, seemeth to me a choyce of small prerogative or consequence The worlds policies are no less contrarie one to another in this subject than the schooles whereby we may learne that Fortune herself is no more divers, changing, and variable, than our reason, nor more blinde and inconsiderat. Things most unknowne are fittest to be deified.  Wherefore to make Gods of our selves (as antiquitie hath done), it exceeds the extreme weaknesse of discourse.  I would rather have followed those that worshipped the Serpent, the Dogge, and the Ox, forsomuch as their Nature and being is least knowne to us, and we may more lawfully imagine what we list of those beasts, and ascribe extraordinarie faculties unto them.  But to have made Gods of our conditions, whose imperfections we should know, and to have attributed desire, choler, revenge, marriages, generation, alliances, love, and jealousie, our limbs and our bones, our infirmities, our pleasures, our deaths, and our sepulchres unto them hath of necessity proceeded from a meere and egregious sottishness or drunkennesse of mans wit.

Quae procul usque adeo divino ab numine distant.
Ingue Deum numero quae sint indigna videri./1

Which from Divinity so distant are,
To stand in ranks of Gods unworthy farre.

inducuntur; accipimus enim Deorum cupiditates aegritudines, iracundias: 'Their shapes, their ages, their aparrell, their furnitures are knowen; their kindes, their marriages, their kindred, and all translated to the likenesse of man's weaknesse:  For they are also brought in with mindes much troubled; for we read of the lustfulnesse, the grievings, the angrinesse of the Gods.  As to have ascribed Divinity, not only unto faith, vertue, honour, concord, liberty, victory and piety; but also unto voluptuousnesse, fraud, death, envy, age and misery; yea unto feare, unto ague, and unto evill fortune, and such other industries and wrongs to our fraile and transitory life:

Quid juvat hoc, templis nostros inducere mores?
O curvae in terris animae et caelestium inanes!/1

What boots it, into Temples to bring manners of our kindes?
O crooked soules on earth, and void of heavenly mindes.

and consumption of our body waite for us, and applyeth them to the apprehension or feeling we have in this life;

Secreti celant colles, et myrtea circum
Sylva tegit, curae non ipsa in morte relinquunt;/1

Them paths aside conceale, a mirtle grove
Shades them round; cares in death doe not remove;

there nothing that is Divine; if it be nothing else but what may appertaine unto this our present condition, it may not be accounted of.  All mortall mens contentment is mortall.  The acknowledging of our parents, of our children and of our friends, if it cannot touch, move or tickle us in the other world, if we still take hold of such a pleasure, we continue in terrestrial and transitorie commodities.  We can not worthily conceive of these high, mysterious, and divine promises, if wee can but in any sort conceive them, and so imagine them aright; they must be thought to be immaginable, unspeakeable and incomprehensible, and absolutely and perfectly other than those of our miserable experience. 'No eye can behold (saith Saint Paul) the hap that God prepareth for his elect, nor can it possibly enter the heart of man.' /1  And if to make us capable of it (as thou saist, Plato, by thy purifications), our being is reformed and essence changed, it must be by so extreme and universall a change that, according to philosophicall doctrine, wee shall be no more ourselves:

Hector erat tunc cum belle certabat, at ille
Tractus ab AEmonio non erat Hector equo./2

Hector he was, when he in fight us'd force;
Hector he was not, drawne by th'enemics horse.

      ------quod mutatur, dissolvitur; interit ergo:
Trajiciuntur enim partes atgue ordine migrant./3

What is chang'd is dissolved, therefore dies:
Translated parts in order fall and rise.

bee?  And if it were hee, those had some reason who, debating this opinion against Plato, object that the sonne might one day bee found committing with his mother under the shape of a Mules body, and such like absurdities. And shall wee imagine that in the transmigrations which are made from the bodies of some creatures into others of the same kind, the new succeeding ones are not other than their predecessors were?  Of a Phenixes cinders, first (as they say) is engendred a worme and then another Phenix: who can imagine that this second Phenix be no other and different from the first? Our Silk-wormes are seene to dye and then to wither drie, and of that body breedeth a Butter-flie, and of that a worme, were it not ridiculous to thinke the same to be the first Silkeworm? what hath once lost its being is no more.

Nec si materiam nostram collegerit aetas
Post obitum, rursumque redegerit, ut sita nunc est,
Atque iterum nobis fuerint data lumina vitae,
Pertineat quidquam tamen ad nos id quoque factum,
Interrupta semel cum sit repetentia nostra./1

If time should recollect, when life is past,
Our stuffe, and it replace, as now 'tis plac't,
And light of life were granted us againe,
Yet nothing would that deed to us pertaine,
When interrupted were our turne againe.

Scilicet avulsus radicibus ut nequit ullam
Dispicere ipse oculus rem, seorsum corpore toto./2

Ev'n as no eye, by th' root's pull'd out, can see
Ought in whole body severall to bee.

appertaine; for we are built of two principall essential parts, the separation of which is the death and consummation of our being.

Inter enim jecta est vitai pausa vageque
Deerrarunt passim motus ab sensibus omnes./1

A pause of life is interpos'd; from sense
All motions straied are, far wandring thence.

Et nihil hoc ad nos, qui coitu conjugioque
Corporis atque animae consistimus uniter apti./2

This nought concerns us, who consist of union
Of minde and body joyn'd in meet communion.

out of the way traced and measured out by the Church, how soone she loseth, entangleth and confoundeth her selfe; turning, tossing and floating up and downe in this vast, troublesome and tempestuous sea of mans opinions without restraint or scope.  So soone as she loseth this high and common way, shee divideth and scattereth herselfe a thousand diverse ways.  Man can be no other than he is, nor imagine but according to his capacity. It is greater presumption (saith Plutarch in them that are but men, to attempt to reason and discourse of Gods and of demi-Gods, than in a man meerly ignorant of musicke to judge of those that sing; or for a man that was never in warres to dispute of, Armes and warre, presuming by some light conjecture to comprehend the effects of an art altogether beyond his skill. As I thinke, Antiquity imagined it did something for divine Majesty when shee compared the same unto man, attiring her with his faculties, and enriching her with his strange humours and most shamefull necessities: offering her some of our cates to feed upon, and some of our dances, mummeries, and enterludes to make her merry, with our clothes to apparrell her, and our houses to lodge her, cherishing her with the sweet odors of incense, and sounds of musicke, adorning her with garlands and flowers, and to draw her to our vicious passion, to flatter her justice with an inhuman revenge, gladding her with the ruine and dissipation of things created and preserved by her.  As Tiberius Sempronius, who for a sacrifice to Vulcan caused the rich spoiles and armes which he had gotten of his enemies in Sardinia to be burned:  And Paulus Emilius, those he had obtained in Macedonia, to Mars and Minerva.  And Alexander, comming to the Ocean of India, cast in favour of Thetis many great rich vessels of gold into the Sea, replenishing, moreover, her Altars with a butcherly slaughter, not onely of innocent beasts, but of men, as diverse Nations, and amongst the rest, ours were wont to doe. And I thinke none hath beene exempted from shewing the like Essayes.

     -----Sulmone creatos
Quatuor hic juvenes, totidem, quos educat Usens,
Viventes rapit, inferias quos immolet umbris./1

Foure young-men borne of Sulmo, and foure more
Whom Usens bred, he living over-bore,
Whom he to his dead friend
A sacrifice might send.

Tantum religio portuit suadere malorum./2
Religion so much mischeefe could
Perswade, where it much better should.

strange conceit, with our owne affliction to goe about to please and appay divine goodnesse:  As the Lacedemonians, who flattered and wantonized their Diana by torturing of young boys, whom often in favour of her they caused to be whipped to death.  It was a savage kinde of humour to thinke to gratifie the Architect with the subversion of his Architecture, and to cancel the punishment due unto the guiltie by punishing the guiltles, and to imagine that poore Iphigenia, in the port of Aulis, should by her death and sacrifice discharge and expiate towards God, the Grecians armie of the offences which they had committed.

Et casta inceste nubendi tempore in ipso
Hostia concideret mactatu maesta parentis./1

She, a chaste offring, griev'd incestuously
By fathers stroke, when she should wed,to dye.

'What injustice of the Gods was so great as they could not be appeased unlesse such men perished?  Considering that it lies not in the offender to cause himselfe to be whipped, how and when he list, but in the judge, who accompteth nothing a right punishment except the torture he appointeth and cannot impute that unto punishment which is in the free choice of him that suffereth.  The divine vengeance presupposeth our full dissent, for his justice and our paine.  And ridiculous was that humor of Polycrates, the Tyrant of Samos, who, to interrupt the course of his continuall happinesse, and to recompence it, cast the richest and most precious jewell he had into the Sea, deeming that by this purposed mishap he should satisfie the revolution and vicissitude of fortune; which, to deride his folly, caused, the very same jewel,
-----
1 LUCR. 1. i. 99. 2 CIC.  De Nat.  Deor. 1. iii. 6. 

being found in a fishes belly, to returne to his hands againe.  And to what purpose are the manglings and dismembrings of the Corybantes, of the Maenades, and now a dayes of the Mahumetans, who skar and gash their faces, their stomacke and their limbes, to gratifie their prophet: seeing the offence consisteth in the will not in the breast, nor eyes, nor in the genitories, health, shoulders, or throat?  Tantus est perturbatae mentis et sedibus suis pulsae furor, ut sic Dii placentur, quemadmodum ne homines quidem saeviunt:/1  'So great is the fury of a troubled minde put from the state it should be in, as the Gods must be so pacified, as even men would not be so outrageous.' This naturall contexture doth by her use not only respect us, but also the service of God and other mens: it is injustice to make it miscarie at our pleasure, as under what pretence soever it be to kill our selves.  It seemeth to be a great cowardise and manifest treason to abuse the stupide and corrupt the servile functions of the body, to spare the diligence unto the soule how to direct them according unto reason.  Vbi iratos Deos timent, qui sic propitios habere merentur.  In regiae libidinis voluptatem castrate sunt quidam; sed nemo sibi, ne vir esset, jubente Domino manus intulit:/2 'Where are they afeard of Gods anger, who in such sort deserve to have his favour; some have beene guelded for Princes lustfull pleasure; but no man at the Lords command hath laid hands on himselfe to be lesse than a man.' Thus did they replenish their religion and stuffe it with divers bad effects.

     -----saepius olim
Religio peperit scelerosa atque impia facta./3

Religion hath oft times in former times
Bred execrable facts, ungodly crimes,

goodnes admit any correspondencie or similitude with a thing so base and abject as we are, without extreme interest, and manifest derogation from his divine greatnesse? Infirmum Dei fortius est hominibus; et stultum Dei sapientius est hominibus:/1  The weaknesse of God is stronger than man; and the foolishnesse of God is wiser than men.  Stilpo the Philosopher being demanded whether the Gods rejoyce at our honours and sacrifices; you are indiscreet (said he), let us withdraw our selves apart if you, speake of such matters.  Notwithstanding we prescribe him limits, we lay continuall siege unto his power by our reasons. (I call our dreames and our vanities reason, with the dispensation of Philosophy, which saith that both the foole and the wicked doe rave and dote by reason, but that it is a reason of severall and particular forme.) We will subject him to the vaine and weake apparances of our understanding: him who hath made both us and our knowledge.  Because nothing is made of nothing:  God was not able to frame the world without matter.  What? hath God delivered into our hands the keyes, and the strongest wards of his infinit puissance?  Hath he obliged himselfe not to exceed the bounds of our knowledge?  Suppose, oh man, that herein thou hast beene able to marke some signes of his effects.  Thinkest thou he hath therein employed all he was able to doe, and that he hath placed all his formes and ideas in this peece of worke?  Thou seest but the order and policie of this little cell wherein thou art placed.  The question is, whether thou seest it.  His divinitie hath an infinit jurisdiction far beyond that.  This peece is nothing in respect of the whole. {Pope+}

     -----omnia cum caelo terraque marique,
Nil sunt ad summam summai totius omnem./2

All things that are, with heav'n, with sea, and land,
To th' whole summe of th' whole summe as nothing stand.

selfe unto that whereto thou art subject, but tie not him: he is neither thy companion, nor thy brother, nor thy fellow citizen, nor thy copesmate. If lie in any sort have communicated himselfe unto thee, it is not to debase himselfe, or stoope to thy smalnesse, nor to give thee the controulment of his power.  Mans body cannot soare up into the clouds, this is for thee. The sunne uncessantly goeth his ordinary course the bounds of the seas and of the earth cannot be confounded: the water is ever fleeting, wavering, and without firmnesse: a wall without breach or flaw, impenetrable unto a solid body: man cannot preserve his life amidst the flames, he cannot corporally be both in heaven and on earth, and in a thousand places together and at once.  It is for thee that be hath made these rules: it is thou they take hold of.  He hath testified unto Christians that when ever it hath pleased him he hath out gone them all.  And in truth, omnipotent as he is, wherefore should he have restrained his forces unto a limited measure? In favour of whom should be have renounced his privilege?  Thy reason hath in no one other thing more likely-hood and foundation, than in that which perswadeth thee a plurality of words.

Terramque et solem, lunam, mare, caetera quae sunt,
Non esse unica, sed numero magis innumerali./1

The earth, the sunne, the moone, the sea and all
In number numberlesse, not one they call.

     ---- cum in summa res nulla sit una,
Unica quae gignatur, et unica solaque crescat:

Whereas in generall summe, nothing is one,
To be bred only one, grow only one.

number: whereby it seemeth unlikely that God hath framed this peece of work alone without a fellow: and that the matter of this forme hath wholy beene spent in this only Individuum.

Quare etiam atqae etiam tales fateare necesse est,
Esse alios alibi congressus matiriae,
Qualis hic est avidi complexu quem tenet AEther./1

Wherefore you must confesse, againe againe,
Of matters such like meetings elsewhere raigne
As this, these skies in greedy gripe containe.

where they have but one eye in their forehead, and heads more like unto a dog than ours; where from the navill downewards they are half fish and live in the water; where women are brought a bed at five years of age, and live but eight; where their heads and the skin of their browes are so hard that no yron can pierce them, but will rather turne edge; where men never have beards.  Other nations there are that never have use of fire; others whose sperme is of a blacke colour.  What shall we speake of them who natarally change themselves into woolves, into coults, and then into men againe?  And if it bee (as Plutark saith) that in some part of the Indiaes there are men without mouthes, and who live only by the smell of certaine sweet odours; how many of our descriptions be then false?  Hee is no more risible, nor perhaps capable of reason and societie.  The direction and cause of our inward frame should for the most part be to no purpose.  Moreover, how many things are there in our knowledge that oppugne these goodly rules which we have allotted and prescribed unto Nature?  And we undertake to joyne God himselfe unto her.  How many things doe we name miraculous and against Nature?  Each man and every nation doth it according to the measure of his ignorance.  How many hidden proprieties and quintessences doe we daily discover?  For us to go according to Nature, is but to follow according to our understanding, as far as it can follow, and as much as we can perceive in it.  Whatsoever is beyond it, is monstrous and disordered.  By this accompt all shall then be monstrous, to the wisest and most sufficient; for even to such humane reason hath perswaded that she had neither ground nor footing, no not so much as to warrant snow to be white: and Anaxagoras said it was blacke.  Whether there be anything or nothing; whether there be knowledge or ignorance, which Metrodorus Chius denied that any man might say; or whether we live, as Euripides seemeth to doubt and call in question; whether the life we live be a life or no, or whether that which we call death be a life:

T'Is' 8'o,'d.y c, C o 0' 5 xgkkn,.t O.",..
T6 th@ 8@ O@4aKe,. g@,,;/1

Who knowes if thus to live, be called death,
And if it be to dye, thus to draw breath;

of the occasions of this worlds troubles are Grammaticall.  Our suits and processes proceed but from the canvasing and debating the interpretation of the Lawes, and most of our warres from the want of knowledge in State-counsellors, that could not cleerely distinguish and fully expresse the Covenants and Conditions of accords betweene Prince and Prince.  How many weighty strifes and important quarels hath the doubt of this one sillable, hoc, brought forth in the world?  Examine the plainest sentence that Logike it selfe can present unto us.  If you say, it is faire weather, and in so saying, say true, it is faire weather then.  Is not this a certaine forme of speech? Yet will it deceive us:  That it is so, let us follow the example:  If you say, I lye, and in that you should say true, you lie then.  The Art, the reason, the force of the conclusion of this last, are like unto the other; notwithstanding we are entangled.  I see the Pyrrhonian philosophers, who can by no manner of speech expresse their generall conceit: for they had need of a new language.  Ours is altogether composed of affirmative propositions, which are directly against them.  So that when they say I doubt, you have them fast by the throat to make them avow that at least you are assured and know that they doubt.  So have they beene compelled to save themselves by this comparison of Physicke, without which their conceit would be inexplicable and intricate.  When they pronounce, I know not, or I doubt, they say that this proposition transportes it selfe together with the rest, even as the Rewbarbe doeth, which scowred ill humours away, and therewith is carried away himselfe.  This conceipt is more certainly conceived by an interrogation: What can I tell?  As I beare it in an Imprese of a paire of ballances.  Note how some prevaile with this kinde of unreverent and unhallowed speech. In the disputations that are nowadayes in our religion, if you overmuch urge the adversaries, they will roundly tell you that it lieth not in the power of God to make his body at once to be in Paradise and on earth, and in many other places 

together.  And how that ancient skoffer made profitable use of it.  At least (saith he) it is no small comfort unto man to see that God cannot doe all things; for he cannot kill himselfe if he would, which is the greatest benefit we have in our condition; he cannot make mortall men immortall nor raise the dead to life againe, nor make him that hath lived never to have lives, and him who hath had honours not to have had them, having no other right over what is past, but of forgetfulnesse.  And that this society betweene God and Man may also be combined with some pleasant examples, he cannot make twice ten not to be twenty.  See what, he saith, and which a Christian ought to abhor, that ever such and so profane words should passe his mouth:  Whereas, on the contrary part, it seemeth that fond men endevour to finde out this foolish-boldnesse of speech, that so they may turne and winde God almighty according to their measure.

     -----cras vel atra
Nube polum pater occupato,
Vel sole puro, non tamen irritum
Quodcumque retro est efficiet, neque
Diffinget effectumque reddet
Quod fugiens semel hora vexit./1

Tommorrow let our father fill the skie,
With darke cloud, or with cleare Sunne, he thereby
Shall not make voyd what once is overpast:
Nor shall he undoe, or in new mold cast,
What time hath once caught, that flyeth hence so fast.

reach, and so distant from his weight. Mirum quo procedat improbitas cordis humani, parvulo aliquo invitata successu./1
'It is a wonder whither the perverse wickednesse of mans heart will proceed, if it be but called-on with any little successes.' {Yahoo+} How insolently doe the Stoikes charge Epicurus, because he holds that to be perfectly good and absolutely happy belongs but only unto God; and that the wise man hath but a shadow and similitude thereof?  How rashly have they joyned God unto destiny? (Which at my request, let none that beareth the surname of a Christian doe at this day.) And Thales, Plato, and Pythagoras have subjected him unto necessities.  This over- boldnesse, or rather bold-fiercenesse, to seeke to discover God by and with our eyes, hath beene the cause that a notable man of our times hath attributed a corporall forme unto divinitie, and is the cause of that which daily hapneth unto us, which is by a particular assignation to impute all important events to God: which because they touch us, it seemeth they also touch him, and that he regardeth them with more care and attention than those that are but slight and ordinary unto us. Magna dii curant, parva negligunt:/2 'The Gods take some care for great things, but none for little.' Note his example; he will enlighten you with his reason. Nec in regnis quidem reges omnia minima curant:/3   'Nor doe Kings in their Kingdomes much care for the least matters.' As if it were all one to that King, either to remove an Empire or a leafe of a tree: and if his providence were otherwise exercised, inclining or regarding no more the successe of a battell than the skip of a flea.  The hand of his government affords itselfe to all things after a like tenure, fashion and order; our interest addeth nothing unto it: our motions and our measures concerne him nothing and move him no whit.  Deus ita artifex magnus in magnis, ut minor non sit in parvis: 'God is so great a workman in great things,
-----
1 PLIN.  Nat.  Hist. 1. ii, c. 23. 2 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. ii. 3 Ib. 1. iii. 

as he is no lesse in small things.  Our arrogancie setteth ever before us this blasphemous equality, because our occupations charge us.  Strato hath presented the Gods with all immunitie of offices, as are their Priests. He maketh nature to produce and preserve all things, and by her weights and motions to compact all parts of the world, discharging humane nature from the feare of divine judgments. Quod beatum aeternumque sit, id nec habere, negotii quicquam, nec exhibere alteri;/1 'That which is blessed and eternall, nor is troubled it selfe, nor troubleth others.' Nature willeth that in all things alike there be also like relation.  Then the infinite number of mortall men concludeth a like number of immortall: The infinite things that kill and destroy presuppose as many that preserve and profit.  As the soules of the Gods, sanse tougues, sanse eyes, and sanse eares, have each one, in themselves a feeling of that which the other feel, and judge of our thoughts; so mens soules, when they are free and severed from the body, either by sleepe or any distraction, divine, prognosticate and see things, which being conjoyned to their bodies, they could not see. Men, saith Saint Paul,/2 when they professed themselves to be wise, they became fooles, for they turned the glory of the incorruptible God to the similitude of the image of a corruptible man.  Marke, I pray you, a little the iugling of ancient Deifications.  After the great, solemne and prowd pompe of funerals, when the fire began to burne the top of the Pyramis, and to take hold of the bed or hearce wherein the dead corps lay, even at that instant they let fly an Eagle, which taking her flight aloft upward, signified that the soule went directly to Paradise.  We have yet a thousand medailes and monuments, namely, of that honest woman Faustina, wherein that Eagle is represented carrying a cocke- horse up towards heaven those deified soules.  It is pity we should so deceive our selves with our owne foolish devises and apish inventions,
-----
1 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. i. 2 Rom i. 22, 23. 

Quod finxere timent,/1

Of that they stand in feare,
Which they in fancie beare,

Noscere cui Divos et coeli numina soli,
Aut soli nescire datum./2

Only to whom heav'ns Deities to know,
Only to whom is giv'n, them not to know.

helping hand unto it.  Were it not a sottish arrogancie that wee should thinke ourselves to be the perfectest thing of this universe?  Then sure there is some better thing.  And that is God.  When you see a rich and stately mansion house, although you know not who is owner of it, yet will you not say that it was built for rats.  And this more than humane frame and divine composition, which we see, of heavens pallace, must we not deeme it to be the mansion of some Lord greater than our selves?  Is not the highest ever the most worthy?  And we are seated in the lowest place.  Nothing that is without a soule and void of reason is able to bring forth a living soule capable of reason.  The world doth bring us forth, then the world hath both soule and reason.  Each part of us is lesse than our selves, we are part of the world, then the world is stored with wisdome and with reason, and that more plenteously than we are.  It is a goodly thing to have a great government.  Then the worlds government belongeth to some blessed and happy nature.  The Starres annoy us not, then the Starres are full of goodnesse. We have need of nourishment, then so have the Gods, and feed themselves with the vapours arising here below.  Worldly goods are not goods unto God. Then are not they goods unto us.  To offend and to be offended are equall witnesses of imbecilitie:  Then it is folly to, feare God.  God is good by his owne nature, man by his industry: which is more?  Divine wisdome and mans wisdome have no other distinction but that the first is eternall. Now lastingnesse is an accession unto wisdome.  Therefore are we fellowes. We have life reason, and libertie, we esteeme goodnesse, charitie and justice; these qualities are then in him.  In conclusion, the building and destroying the conditions of divinity are forged by man according to the relation to himselfe.  Oh what a patterne, and what a model!  Let us raise and let us amplifie humane qualities as much as we please.  Puffe-up thy selfe poore man, yea swell and swell againe. 

     ----- non si te ruperis, inquit./1

Swell till you breake, you shall not be,
Equall to that great one, quoth he.

heire generall or all her wealth.  And therefore she had divine honours attributed unto her.  As if it were not sufficient for Plato to descend originally from the Gods by a twofold line, and to have Neptune for the common author of his race.  It was certainly beleeved at Athens that Ariston, desiring to enjoy faire Perictyone, he could not, and that in his dreame he was warned by God Apollo to leave her untoucht and unpolluted untill such time as she were brought a bed.  And these were the father and mother of Plato.  How many such-like cuckoldries are there in histories, procured by the Gods against seely mortall men?  And husbands most injuriously blazoned in favor of their children?  In Mahomets religion, by the easie beleefe of that people are many Merlins found, that is to say, fatherless children: spirituall children, conceived and borne divinely in the wombs of virgins, and that in their language beare names importing as much.  We must note that nothing is more deare and precious to any thing than its owne being (the Lyon, the Eagle and the Dolphin esteeme nothing above their kind), each thing referreth the qualities of all other things unto her owne conditions, which we may either amplifie or shorten; but that is all: for besides this principle, and out of this reference, our imagination cannot go, and guesse further: and it is unpossible it should exceed that, or goe beyond it. Whence arise these ancient conclusions.  Of all formes, that of man is the fairest: then God is of this forme.  No man can he happy without vertue, nor can vertue be without reason; and no reason can lodge but in a humane shape:  God is then invested with a humane figure.  Ita est informatum anticipatum mentibus nostris, ut homini, quum de Deo cogitet, forma occurrat humana:/1 'The prejudice forestaled in our mindes is so framed as the forme of man comes to mans minde when he is thinking of God.' Therefore Xenophanes said presently, that if beasts frame any Gods unto themselves, as likely it is they do, they surely frame them like unto themselves,
-----
1 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. i. 

and glorifle themselves as we do.  For why may not a goose say thus? All parts of the world behold me, the earth serveth me to tread upon, the Sunne to give me light, the Starres to inspire me with influence; this commoditie I have of the wind, and this benefit of the waters: there is nothing that this worlds-vault doth so favourably look upon as me selfe; I am the favorite of nature; is it not man that careth for me, that keepeth me, lodgeth me, and serveth me?  For me it is he soweth, reapeth, and grindeth: if he eat me, so doth man feed on his fellow and so doe I on the wormes that consume and eat him.  As much might a Crane say, yea and more boldly, by reason of her flights libertie, and the possession of this goodly and high-bownding region. Tam blanda conciliatrix, et tam sui est lena ipsa natura:/1  'So flattring a broker and bawd (as it were) is nature to it selfe.' Now by the same consequence the destinies are for us, the world is for us; it shineth, and thundreth for us: both the creator and the creatures are for us: it is the marke and point whereat the universitie of things aymeth.  Survay but the register which Philosophy hath kept these two thousand years and more, of heavenly affaires.  The Gods never acted, and never spake, but for man:  She ascribeth no other consultation, nor imputeth other vacation unto them.  Loe how they are up in armes against us.

      ------domitosque Herculea manu
Telluris iuvenes, unde periculum
Fulgens contremuit domus
Saturni veteris./2

And young earth-gallants tamed by the hand
Of Hercules, whereby the habitation
Of old Saturnus did in perill stand,
And, shyn'd it ne'er so bright, yet fear'd invasion,

Neptunus muros magnogue emota tridenti
Fundamenta quatit, totamque a sedibus urbem
Eruit: hic Iuno Scaeas saavissima portas Prima tenet./1

Neptunas with his great three-forked mace
Shaks the weake wall, and tottering foundation,
And from the site the Cittie doth displace,
Fierce Juno first holds ope the gates t'invasion.

      ------hic illius arma
Hic currus fuit./1

His armor here
His chariots there appeare.

O sancte Apollo, qui umbilicum certum terrarum obtines./3

Sacred Apollo, who enfoldest
The earths set navell, and it holdest.

Pallada Cecropiae, Minoia Creta Dianam,
Vulcanum tellus Hipsi illa colit.
Iunonem Sparte, Pelopeiadesque Mycena,
Pinigerum Fauni Maenalis ora caput:
Mars Latio venerandus./4

Besmeared with bloud and goare.
Th'Athenians Pallas; Minos-Candy coast
Diana, Lemnos Vulcan honors most;
Mycene and Sparta, Juno thinke divine;
The coast of Maenalus Fauns crown'd with pine;
Latium doth Mars adore.

Iunctaque sunt magno templa nepotis avo./1

To the great grand-sires shrine,
The nephews temples doe combine.

Quos, quoniam coeli nondum dignamur honore,
Quas dedimus certe terras habitare sinamus./2

Whom for as yet with heav'n we have not graced,
Let them on earth by our good grant be placed.

      ------Iovis incunabula Creten./1

The Ile of famous Creet,
For Jove a cradle meet.

weakened his braines much, as all men doe, who over nicely and greedily will search out those knowledges which hang not for their mowing nor pertaine unto them.  When he would needs have the sunn to be a burning stone, he remembered not that stone doth not shine in the fire; and which is more, that it consumes therein.  And when he made the Sunne and fire to be all one, he forgot that fire doth not tan and black those he looketh upon; that wee fixly looke upon the fire, and that fire consumeth and killeth all plants and herbs.  According to the advice of Socrates and mine, 'The wisest judging of heaven is not to judge of it at all.  Plato in his Timeus, being to speake of Daemons and spirits, saith it is an enterprise far exceeding my skill and ability: we must beleeve what those ancient forefathers hath said of them, who have said to have beene engendred by them.  It is against reason not to give credit unto the children of the Gods, although their sayings be neither grounded upon necessary nor likely reasons, since they tell us that they speake of familiar and household matters.  Let us see whether we have a little more insight in the knowledge of humane and naturall things.  Is it not a fond enterprise to those unto which, by our owne confession, our learning cannot possibly attaine, to devise and forge them another body, and of our owne invention to give them a false forme? as is seene in the planetary motions, unto which because our minde cannot reach, nor imagine their naturall conduct, we lend them something of ours, that is to say, materiall, grose, and corporall springs and wards:

     ----- temo aureus, aurea summae
Curvatura rota, radiorum argenteus ordo./1

The Axe-tree gold, the wheeles whole circle gold,
The ranke of raies did all of silver hold.

wheelings, the windings and enterlacements of the celestial bodies diapred in colours, according to Plato, about the spindle of necessity.

Mundus domus est maximna rerum,
Quam quinque altitonae fragmine zonae
Cingunt, per quam limbus pictus bis sex signis,
Stellimicantibus, altus, in obliquo aethere, Lunae Bigas acceptat.

The world, of things the greatest habitation,
Which five high-thundring Zones by separation
Engird, through which a scarfe depainted faire
With twice six signes star-shining in the aire.
Obliquely raisde, the waine
O' th' Moone doth entertaine.

women, when their naturall teeth faile them, use some of yuorie and in stead of a true beauties or lively colour, lay on some artificiall hew; and as they make trunk sleeves of wire, and whale-bone bodies, backes of lathes, and stiffe bombasted verdugals, and to the open-view 'of all men paint and embellish themselves with counterfeit and borrowed beauties; so doth learning (and our law hath, as some say, certaine lawfull fictions, on which it groundeth the truth of justice) which in liew of currant payment and presupposition, delivereth us those things, which she her selfe teacheth us to be meere inventions: for these Epicycles Excentriques, and Concentriques, which Astrology useth to direct the state and motions of her starres, she giveth them unto us, as the best she could ever invent, to fit and sute unto this subject: as in all things else, Philosophy presenteth unto us, not that which is or she beleeveth, but what she inventeth as having most apparence, likelihood, or comelinesse.  Plato upon the discourse of our bodies estate and of that of beasts: that what we have said is true we would be assured of it had we but the confirmation of some oracle to confirme it.  This only we warrant, that it is the likeliest we could say.  It is not to heaven alone that she sendeth her cordages, her engines, and her wheeles.  Let us but somewhat consider what she saith of our selves and of our contexture.  There is no more retrogradation, trepidation, augmentation, recoyling, and violence in the starres and celestiall bodies than they have fained and devised in this, poor seeley little body of man.  Verily they have thence had reason to name it Microcosmos, or little world, so many severall parts and visages have they imploied to fashion and frame the same.  To accommodate the motions which they see in man, the divers functions and faculties that We feel in our selves.  Into how many severall parts have they divided our soule?  Into how many seats have they placed her?  Into how many orders, stages, and stations have they divided this wretched man, beside the naturall and perceptible? and to how many distinct offices and vocations?  They make a 

publike imaginarie thing of it.  It is a subject which they hold and handle: they have all power granted them to rip him, to sever him, to range him, to join and reunite him together againe, and to stuffe him every one according to his fantasia; and yet they neither have nor possess him.  They cannot so order or rule him, not in truth onely, but in imagination, but still some cadence or sound is discovered which escapeth their architecture, bad as it is, and botched together with a thousand false patches and fantasticall peeces.  And they have no reason to be excused: for to painters when they pourtray the heaven, the earth, the seas, the hills, the scattered Ilands, we pardon them if they but represent us with some slight apparence of them; and as of things unknowne we are contented with such fained shadows.  But when they draw us, or any other subject that is familiarly knowne unto us, to the life, then seeke we to draw from them a perfect and exact representation of their or our true lineaments or colours, and scorne if they misse never so little.  I commend the Milesian wench, who seeing Thales the Philosopher continually amusing himself in the contemplation of heavens wide-bounding vault, and ever holding his eyes aloft, laid something in his way to make him stumble, thereby to warne and put him in minde that he should not amuse his thoughts about matters above the clouds before he had provided for and well considered those at his feet. {Laputa+} Verily she advised him well, and it better became him rather to looke to himselfe than to gaze on heaven; for, as Democritus by the mouth of Cicero saith,

Quod este ante pedes, nemo spectat; coli scrutantur plagas/1

No man lookes what before his feet doth lie,
They seeke and search the climates of the skie.

him who medleth with Philosophy, as the woman said to Thales, which is, he seeth nothing of that which is before him.  For every Philosopher is ignorant of what his neighbour doth; yea, he knowes not what himselfe doth, and wots not what both are, whether beasts or men.  These people who thinke Sebondes reasons to be weake and lame, who know nothing themselves, and yet will take upon them to governe the world and know all:

Quae mare compescant causae, quid temperet annum,
Stellae sponte sua, jussaeve vagentur et errent:  Quid premat obscurae
Lunae, quid proferat orbem,
Quid velit et possit rerum concordia discors./1

What cause doth calm the Sea, what cleares the yeare,
Whether Stars force't, or of selfe-will appeares;
What makes the Moones darke Orbe to wax or wane,
What friendly fewd of things both will and can.

ipso homo est:/1  'The meane is clearely wonderfull whereby spirits cleave to our bodies, nor can it be comprehended by man, and that is very man.' Yet is there no doubt made of him: for mens opinions are received after ancient beliefs by authority and upon credit; as if it were a religion and a law.  What is commonly held of it, is received as a gibrish or fustian tongue.  This trueth, with all her framing of arguments and proporcioning of proofes, is received as a firme and solid body which is no more shaken, which is no more judged.  On the other side, every one the best he can patcheth up and comforteth this received beliefe with all the meanes his reason can afford him, which is an instrument very supple, pliable, and yeelding to all shapes. 'Thus is the world filled with toyes, and overwhelmed in lies and leasings.  The reason that men doubt not much of things is that common impressions are never throughly tride and sifted, their ground is not sounded, nor where the fault and weaknes lieth.  Men only debate and question of the branch, not of the tree: they aske not whether a thing be true, but whether it was understood or meant thus and thus.  They enquire not whether Galen hath spoken any thing of worth, but whether thus, or so, or otherwise.  Truly there was some reason this bridle or restraint of our judgements liberty, and this tyranny over our beliefs should extend it selfe even to schooles and arts.  The God of scholasticall learning is Aristotle:  It is religion to debate of his ordinances, as those of Lycurgus in Sparta.  His doctrine is to us as a canon law, which peradventure is as false as another.  I know not why I should or might not, as soone and as easie accept either Platoes Ideas, or Epicurus his atomes and indivisible things, or the fulnesse and emptines of Leucippus and Democritus, or the water of Thales, or Anaximanders infinite of nature, or the aire of Diogenes, or the numbers or proportion of Pythagoras, or the infinite of Parmenides, or the single-one of Musaeus, or the water and fire of Apollodorus, or the similarie and
-----
1 AUG.  De Spir. et Anim.  De Civ.  Dei, xxi. 10. 

resembling parts of Anaxagoras, or the discord and concord of Empedocles, or the fire of Heraclitus, or an other opinion (of this infinit confusion of opinions an sentences which this goodly humane reason, by her certainty and clear-sighted vigilancie brings forth in whatsoever it medleth withal) as I should of Aristotle's conceit, touching this subject of the principles of naturall things, which he frameth of three parts; that is to say, matter, forme, and privation.  And what greater vanitie can there be than to make inanitie it selfe the cause of the production of thingS?  Privation is a negative: with what humour could he make it the cause and beginning of things that are?  Yet durst no man move that but for an exercise of logike: wherein nothing is disputed to put it in doubt, but to defend the author of fhe schoole from strange objections.  His authoritie is the marke beyond which it is not lawfull to enquire.  It is easie to frame what one list upon allowed foundations: for, according to the law and ordinance of this positive beginning, the other parts of the frame are easily directed without crack or danger.  By which way we finde our reason well grounded, and we discourse without rub or let in the way:  For our masters preoccupate and gains afore-hand as much place in our beleefe as they need to conclude afterward what they please, as geometricians doe by their graunted questions: the consent and approbation which we lend them, giving them wherewith to draw us, either on the right or left hand, and at their pleasure to winde and turne us.  Whosoever is beleeved in his presuppositions, he is our master, and our God.  He will lay the plot of his foundations so ample and easie, that, if he list, he will carrie us up, even unto the clouds.  In this practice or negotiation of learning, we have taken the saying of Pythagoras for currant payment; which is, that every expert man ought to be bielieved in his owne trade.  The logitian referreth himselfe to the grammarian for the Signification of words..  The rhetoritian borroweth the places of arguments from the logitian; the poet his measures from the musician; the geo- 

metrician his proportions from the arithmetician; the metaphisikes take the conjectures of the physikes for a ground, for every art hath her presupposed principles by which mans judgment is bridled on all parts.  If you come to the shocke or front of this barre, in which consists the principall error, they immediately pronounce this sentence: that there is no disputing against such as deny principles.  There can be no principles in men, except divinitie hath revealed them unto them: all the rest, both beginning, middle, and end, is but a dreame and a vapor.  Those that argue by presupposition, we must presuppose against them the very same axiome which is disputed of.  For, each humane presupposition, and every invention, unlesse reason make a difference of it, hath as much authoritie as another.  So must they all be equally balanced, and first the generall and those that tyrannize us.  A perswasion of certaintie is a manifest testimonie of foolishnesse, and of extreme uncertaintie.  And no people are lesse philosophers and more foolish than Platoe's Philodoxes, or lovers of their owne opinions.  We must know whether fire be hot, whether snow be white, whether, in our knowledge, there be anything hard or soft.  And touching the answers, whereof they tell old tales, as to him who made a doubt of heat, to whom one replied, that to trie he should caste himselfe into the fire; to him that denied the yce to be cold, that he should put some in his bosome; they are most unworthy the profession of a philosophers.  If they had left us in our owne naturall estate, admitting of strange apparences as they present themselves unto us by our senses, and had suffered us to follow our naturall appetites, directed by the condition of our birth, they should then have reason to speak so.  But from them it is that we have learnt to become judges of the world; it is from them we hold this conceit, that mans reason is the generall controuler of all that is, both without and within heavens-vault, which imbraceth all and can doe all, by meanes whereof all things are knowne and discerned.  This answer were good among the canibals, 

who without any of Aristotles precepts, or so much as knowing the name of naturall philosophy, enjoy most happily a long, a quiet, and a peaceable life. {noble_savage+} This answer might haply availe more, and be of more force, than all those they can borrow from their reason and invention. All living creatures, yea, beasts and all, where the commandment of the naturall law is yet pure and simple, might with us be capable of this answer, but they have renounced it.  They shall not need to tell me it is true, for you both heare and see it is so.  They must tell me if what I thinke I feel, I feel the same in effect; and if I feel it, then let them tell me wherefore I feel it, and how and what.  Let them tell me the name, the beginninly, the tennons, and the abuttings of heat and of cold, with the qualities of him that is agent, or of the patient: or let them quit me their profession, which is neither to admit nor approve anything by way of reason.  It is their touchstone to try all kinds of essayes.  But surely it is a touchstone full of falsehood, errors, imperefection and weakenesse: which way can we better make triall of it than by it selfe?  If she may not be credited speaking of her selfe, I hardly can she be fit to judge of strange matters.  If she know anything, it can be but her being and domicile. She is in the soule, and either a part or effect of the same.  For the true and essential reason (whose name we steal by false signes) lodgeth in Gods bosome.  There is her home, and there is her retreat, thence she takes her flight when Gods pleasure is that we shall see some glimps of it: even as Pallas issued out of her fathers bead, to communicate and empart her selfe unto the world.  Now let us see what mans reason hath taught us of her selfe and of the soule: not of the soule in generall, whereof well nigh all philosophy maketh both the celestiall and first bodies partakers; not of that which Thales attributed even unto things that are reputed without soule or life, drawne thereunto by the consideration of the Adamant stone: but of that which appertaineth to us, and which we should know best. 

Iqnoratur enim qu&, sit natura animai,
Nata sit, an contra nascentibus insinuetur,
Et simul intereat nobiscum morte dirempta,
An tenebras orci visat, vastasque lacunas,
An pecudes alias divinitus insinuet se./1

What the soules nature is, we doe not know:
If it be bred, or put in those are bred,
Whether by death divorst with us it goe,
Or see the darke vast lakes of hell below,
Or into other creatures turne the head.

Sanguineam vomit ille animant./2

His soule of purple-bloud he vomits out.

Igneus est ollis vigor, et coelestis origo:/3

A firy vigor and celestiall spring,
In their originall they strangely bring.

      ------Habitum quemdam vitalem corporis esse,
Harmoniam Gaeci quam dicunt.4

There of the body is a vitall frame,
The which the Greeks a harmony doe name.

     And not forgetting Aristotle, that which naturally causeth the body to move, who calleth it Entelechy, or perfection moving of itselfe (as cold an invention as any other), for he neither speaketh of the essence, nor of the beginning nor of the soules nature, but onely noteth the effects of it:  Lactantius, Seneca, and the better part amongst the Dogmatists, have confessed they never understood what it was: and after all this rable of opinions. Harum sententiarum quae vera sit, Deus aliquis viderit:/1  'Which of these opinions is true, let some God looke unto it,' saith Cicero.  I know by myselfe, quoth Saint Bernard, how God is incomprehensible, since I am not able to comprehend the parts of mine owne being:  Heraclitus, who held that every place was full of Soules and Demons, maintained neverthelesse that a man could never goe so far towards the knowledge of the soule as that he could come unto it; so deep and mysterious was her essence.  There is no lesse dissention nor disputing about the place where she should be seated.  Hypocrates and Herophilus place it in the ventricle of the brain:  Democritus and Aristotle, through all the body:

Ut bona scope valetudo cum dicitur esse
Corporis, et non est tanten haec pars ulla valentis./2

As health is of the body said to be,
Yet is no part of him in health we see.

Hic exultat enim pavor ac metus, haec loca circum
Laetitiae mulcent./3

For in these places feare doth domineere,
And neere these places joy keepes merry cheere.

the two upper eyelids: Qua facie quidem sit animus aut ubi habitet, nec quaerendum quidem est:/1   'We must not so much as enquire what face the minde beares, or where it dwells,' saith Cicero.  I am well pleased to let this man use his owne words: for why should I alter the speech of eloquence it selfe? since there is small gaine in stealing matter from his inventions:  They are both little used, not very forcible, and little unknowne.  But the reason why Chrysippus and those of his sect will prove the soule to be about the heart, {PlainDealer+} is not to be forgotten. It is (saith he) because when we will affirme or swear anything, we lay our hand upon the stomacke; and when we will pronounce %@&, which signifieth my selfe, we put downe our chin towards the stomacke.  This passage ought not to be past-over without noting the vanity of so great a personage: for, besides that his considerations are of themselves very slight, the latter proveth but to the Graecians that they have their soule in that place.  No humane judgement is so vigilant or Argoesied, but sometimes shall fall asleep or slumber.  What shall we feare to say?  Bebold the Stoickes+, fathers of humane wisdome, who devise that the soule of man, overwhelmed with any ruine, laboureth and panteth a long time to get out, unable to free herselfe from that charge, even as a mouse taken in a trap.  Some are of opinion that the world was made to give a body, in lieu of punishment, unto the spirits, which through their fault were fallen from the puritie wherein they were created: the first creation having been incorporeall. And that according as they have more or lesse removed themselves their spirituality, so are they more or lesse merily and giovally. or rudely and saturnally incorporated: whence proceedeth the infinite variety of so much matter created.  But the spirit, who for his chastizement was invested wite bodie of the Sunne, must of necessitie have a very rare and particular measure of alteration.  The extremities of our curious search turne to a glimmering and all to a dazeling.  As Plutarke saith
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. i. 

of the off-spring of histories, that after the manner of cards or maps, the utmost limits of known countries are set downe to be full of thicke marrish grounds, shady forrests, desart and uncouth places.  See here wherefore the grosest and most childish dotings are more commonly found in these which treat of highest and fnrthest matters; even confounding and overwhelming themselves in their own curiositie and presumption.  The end and beginning of learning are equally accompted foolish.  Marke but how Plato talketh and raiseth his flight aloft in his Poeticall clouds, or cloudy Poesies. Behold and read in him the gibbrish of the Gods. nbsp; But what dreamed or doted he on when he defined man to be a creature with two feet, and without feathers; giving them that were disposed to mocke at him a pleasant and scopefull occasion to doe it?  For, having plucked-off the feathers of a live capon, they named him the man of Plato.  And by what simplicitie did the Epicureans first imagine that the Atomes or Motes, which they termed to be bodies, having some weight and a naturall moving downeward, had framed the world; untill such time as they were advised by their adversaries that by this description it was not possible they should joyne and take hold one of another; their fall being so downe-right and perpendicular, and every way engendring parallel lines?  And therefore was it necessarie they should afterward adde a causall moving sideling unto them:  And moreover to give their Atomes crooked and forked tailes, that so they might take hold of any thing and claspe themselves.  And even then those that pursue them with this other consideration, doe they not much trouble them?  If Atomes have by chance formed so many sorts of figures, why did they never meet together to frame a house or make a shooe?  Why should we not likewise beleeve that an infinit number of Greek letters, confusedly scattered in some open place, might one day meet and joyne together to the contexture of the Iliads? That which is capable of reason (saith Zeno) is better than that which is not.  There is nothing better than the 

world: then the world is capable of reason.  By the same arguing Cotta maketh the world a Mathematician, and by this other arguing of Zeno, he makes him a Musitian and an Organist.  The whole is more than the part: we are capable of wisdom, and we are part of the world: then the world is wise.  There are infinit like examples seene, not only of false, but foolish arguments, which cannot hold, and which accuse their authors not so much of ignorance as of folly, in the reproaches that Philosophers charge one another with, about the disagreeings in their opinions and sects.  He that should fardle-up a bundle or huddle of the fooleries of mans wisdome, might recount wonders.  I willingly assemble some (as a shew or patterns) by some means or byase, no lesse profitable than the most moderate instructions. Let us by that judge what we are to esteeme of man, of his sense, and of his reason; since in these great men, and who have raised mans sufficiencie so high, there are found so grose errors and so apparant defects.  As for me, I would rather beleeve that they have thus casually treated learning even as a sporting childs baby, and have sported themselves with reason, as of a vaine and frivolous instrument, setting forth all sorts of inventions, devices, and fantasies, sometimes more outstretched, and sometimes more loose.  The same Plato, who defineth man like unto a Capon, saith elsewhere, after Socrates, that in good sooth he knoweth not what man is; and that of all parts of the world there is none so hard to be knowne.  By this varietie of conceits and instabilitie of opinions, they, as it were, leade us closely by the hand to this resolution of their irresolution.  They make a profession not alwayes to present their advice manifest and unmasked: they have oft concealed the same under the fabulous shadows of Poesie, and sometimes under other vizards.  For our imperfection admitteth this also, that raw meats are not alwayes good for our stomacks: but they must be dried, altred, and corrupted, and so doe they who sometimes shadow their simple opinions and judgements; and that they may 

the better sute themselves unto common use, they many times falsifie them.  They will not make open profession of ignorance, and of the imbecilitie of mans reason, because they will not make children afraid, but they manifestly declare the same unto us under the shew of a troubled Science and unconstant learning.  I perswaded somebody in Italy, who laboured very much to speak Italian, that always provided he desired but to be understood, and not to seek to excell others therein, he should onely imploy and use such words as came first to his month, whether they were Latine, French, Spanish, or Gascoine, and that adding the Italian terminations unto them, he should never misse to fall upon some idiome of the countrie, either Tuscan, Roman, Venetian, Piemontoise, or Neapolitan; and amongst so many severall formes of speech to take hold of one.  The very same I say of Philosophy.  She hath so many faces and so much varietie, and hath said so much, that all our dreames and devices are found in her.  The fantasie of man can conceive or imagine nothing, be it good or evill, that is not to be found in her: Nihil tam absurde dici potest, quod non dicatur ab aliquo Philosophorum/1 'Nothing may be spoken so absurdly, but that it is spoken by some of the Philosophers.  And therefore doe I suffer my humours or caprices more freely to passe in publike; forasmuch as though they are borne with, and of me, and without any patterne, well I wot they will be found to have relation to some ancient humour, and some shall be found that will both know and tell whence and of whom I have borrowed them.  My customes are naturall; when I contrived them, I called not for the helpe of any discipline: and weake and faint as they were, when I have had a desire to expresse them, and to make them appear to the world a little more comely and decent, I have somewhat endevoured to aid them with discourse, and assist them with examples, I have wondred at my selfe that by meere chance I have met with them, agreeing and sutable to so many ancient examples and Philo-
-----
1 CIC.  Div. 1. ii. 

sophicall discourses.  What regiment my life was of, I never knew nor learned but after it was much worne, and spent.  A new figure: an unpremeditated philosopher and a casuall.  But to returne unto our soule, where Plato hath seated reason in the braine; anger in the heart; lust in the liver; it is very likely that it was rather an interpretation of the soules motions than any division or separation he meant to make of it, as of a body into many members.  And the likeliest of their opinion is that it is alwayes a soule, which by her rationall faculty remembreth her selfe, comprehendeth, judgeth, desireth, and exerciseth all her other functions by divers instruments of the body, as the pilote ruleth and directeth his ship according to the experience he hath of it; now stretching, haling, or loosing a cable, sometimes hoysing the mainyard, removing an oare, or stirring the rudder, causing severall effects with one only power; and that she abideth in the braine, appeareth by this, that the hurts and accidents which touch that part doe presently offend the faculties of the soule, whence she may without inconvenience descend and glide through other parts of the body:

     ----- medium non deserit unquam
Coeli Phoebus iter: radus tamen omnia lustrat:/1

Never the Sunne forsakes heav'ns middle wayes,
Yet with his rayesa he lights all, all survayes:

Caetera pars animae per totum dissita corpus
Paret, et ad numen mentis nomenque movetur./2

Th' other part of the soule through all the body sent
Obeyes, and moved is, by the mindes government.

     -----Deum namque ire per omnes
Terrasque tractusque maris coelumque profundum:
Hinc pecudes, armenta, viros, genus omne ferarum,
Quemque sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas,
Scilicet huc reddi deinde, ac resoluta referri
Omnia: nec morti esse locum./1

For God through all the earth to passe is found,
Through all Sea currents, through the heav'n profound.
Here hence men, heards, and all wilde beasts that are,
Short life in birth each to themselves doe share.
All things resolved to this point restor'd
Returne, nor any place to death affoord.

Insullata patris virtus tibi,/2

Thy vertues be
Instilled into thee.

Fortes creantur fortibus et bonis,/3

Of valiant Sires and good,
There comes a valiant brood.

Denique cur acrum violentia triste Leonum
Seminum sequitur, dolus Vulpibus, et fuga Cervis
A patribus datur, et patrius pavor incitat Artus,
Si non certa suo quia semine seminioque
Vis animi pariter crescit cum corpore toto?/4

Why followes violence the savage Lyons race?
Why craft the Foxes?  Why, to Deere to flye apace?
By parents is it given, when parents feare incites,
Unlesse because a certaine force of inward spirits
With all the body growes, As seed and seed-spring goes?

     ----- Si in corpus nascentibits insinuatur,
Cur super anteactam aetatem meminisse nequimus,
Nec vestigia gesta-um rerum ulla tenemus. /1

If our soule at our birth be in our body cast,
Why can we not remember ages over-past,
Nor any markes retaine of things done first or last?

knew being in her puritie, was a true understanding, knowing things as they are by her divine intelligence: whereas here, if she be instructed, she is made to receive lies and apprehend vice, wherein she cannot imploy her memorie; this image and conception having never had place in her.  To say that the corporall prison doth so suppresse her naturall faculties, that they are altogether extinct in her: first, is cleane contrarie to this other beleefe, to knowledge her forces so great, and the operations which men in this transitorie life feel of it, so wonderfull, as to have thereby concluded this divinitie, and fore-past eternitie, and the immortalitie to come:

Nam si tantopere est animi mutata potestas,
Omnis ut actarum excident retinentia rerum,
Non ut opinor ea ab letho jam longior errat./1

If of our minde the Power he so much altered,
As of things done all hold, all memorie is fled,
Then (as I guesse) it is not far from being dead.

inconvenience, would have future payments limited to a hundred yeares continuance, relatively unto a humane continuance: and many of ours have given them temporall limits.  By this they judged that her generation followed the common condition of humane things: as also her life, by the opinion of Epicurus and Democritus, which hath most been received; following these goodly apparences.  That her birth was seene when the body was capable of her; her vertue and strength was perceived as the corporall encreased; in her infancie might her weaknesse he discerned, and in time her vigor and ripenesse, then her decay and age, and in the end her decrepitude.

      ------ gigni pariter cum corpore, et una
Crescere sentimus, pariterque senescere mentem./1

The minde is with the body bred, we doe behold,
It jointly growes with it, with it it waxeth old.

      ------mentem sanari, corpus ut aegrum
Cernimus, et flecti medicine posse videmus:/2

We see as bodies sicke are cur'd, so is the minde,
We see, how Physicke can it each way turne and winde,

      ------corpoream naturam animi esse necesse est,
Corporeis quoniam telis ictuque laborat./3

The nature of the minde must needs corporeall bee,
For with corporeall darts and strokes it's griev'd we see.

She was seene to dismay and confound all her faculties by the only biting of a sicke dog, and to containe no great constancie of discourse, no sufficiencie, no vertue, no philosophicall resolution, no contention of her forces that might exempt her from the subjection of these accidents: the spittle or slavering of a mastive dog shed upon Socrates his hands, to trouble all his wisdome, to distemper his great and regular imagination, and so to vanquish and annull them that no signe or shew of his former knowledge was left in him:

     ----- vis animai
Conturbatur, et divisa seorsum
Disjectatur eodem illo distracta veneno./1

The soules force is disturbed, separated,
Distraught by that same poison, alienated.

     ----- vis morbi distracta per artus
Turbat aqens animam, spumantes aequore salso
Ventorum ut validis fervescunt viribus undae./2

The force of the disease disperst through joints offends,
Driving the soule, as in salt Seas the wave ascends,
Foming by furious force which the wind raging lends.

serve a soule that is her owne, and in her proper force capable of discourse and deliberation: not serving to this inconvenience wherewith a Philosopher, a soule becommeth the soule of a foole, troubled, vanquished and lost. Which divers occasions may produce, as in an over-violent agitation, which by some vehement passion the soule may beget in her selfe: or a hurt in some part of the body, or an exhalation from the stomacke, casting as into some astonishment, dazling, or giddinesse of the head:

      ------morbis in corporis avius errat
Saepe animus, dementit enim, delirague fatur,
Interdumque gravi -Lethargo fertur in altum
AEternumque soporem, oculis nutuque cadenti./1

The mind in bodies sicknesse often wandring strayes;
For it enraged raves, and idle talk outbrayes;
Brought by sharpe Lethargy sometime to more than deepe,
While eyes and eye-lids fall into eternall sleepe.

Quippe etenim mortale aeterno jungere, et una
Consentire putare, et fungi mutua posse,
Desipere est.  Quid enim diversius esse putandum est,
Aut magis inter se disjuncture discrepitansque,
Quam mortale quod est, immortali atque perenni
Iunctum in concilio saevas tolerare procellas?/1

For what immortall is, mortall to joyne unto,
And thinke they caN agree, and mutual duties doe,
Is to be foolish: for what thinke we stranger is,
More disagreenble or more disjoyn'd than this,
That mortall with immortall endlesse joyn'd in union,
Can most outrageous stormes endure in their communion?

      ------ simul aevo fessa fatiscit,/2

It faints in one,
Wearied as age is gone.

Non alio pacto quam si pes cum dolet aegri,
In nullo caput interea sit forte dolore./4

No otherwise than if, when sick-mans foote doth ake,
Meane time perhaps his head no fellow-feeling take.

     Our judgements sight referreth it selfe unto truth, as doth the owles eyes unto the shining of the sunne, as saith Aristotle. How should we better convince him than by so grosse blindnesse in so apparent a light?  For the contrarie opinion of the soules immortalitie, which Cicero saith to have first beene brought in (at least by the testimonie of books) by Pherecydes Syrius in the time of King Tullus (others ascribe the invention thereof to Thales, and other to others) it is the part of humane knowledge treated most sparingly and with more doubt.  The most constant Dogmatists (namely in this point) are enforced to cast themselves under the shelter of the Academikes wings.  No man knowes what Aristotle hath established upon this subject no more than all the ancients in generall, who handle the same with a very wavering beliefe:  Rem gratissimam promittentium magis quam probantium: 'Who rather promise than approve a thing most acceptable. He hath hidden himself under the clouds of intricat and ambiguous words and unintelligible senses, and hath left his Sectaries as much cause to dispute upon his judgement as upon the matter.  Two things made this his opinion plausible to them: the one, that without the immortality of soules there should no meanes be left to ground or settle the vaine hopes of glory+; a consideration of wonderfull credit in the world: the other (as Plato saith) that it is a most profitable impression, that vices, when they steal away from out the sight and knowledge of humane justice, remaine ever as a blancke before divine justice, which even after the death of the guilty will severely pursue them.  Man is ever possessed with an extreme desire to prolong his being, and hath to the uttermost of his skill provided for it.  Toombs and Monuments are for the preservation of his body, and glorie+ for the continuance of his name.  He hath employed all his wit to frame him selfe anew (as impatient of his fortune) and to underprop or uphold himselfe by his inventions.  The soule by reason of her trouble and imbecility, as unable to 

subsist of her selfe, is ever and in all places questing and searching comforts, hopes, foundations and forraine circumstances, on which she may take hold and settle herselfe.  And how light and fantasticall soever his invention doth frame them unto him, he notwithstanding relieth more surely upon them and more willingly than upon himself:  But it is a wonder to see how the most obstinat in this so just and manifest perswasion of our spirits immortalitie have found themselves short and unable to establish the same by their humane forces.  Somnia sunt non docentis sed optantis: 'These are dreames not of one that teacheth, but wisheth what he would have:' said an ancient Writer.  Man may by his owne testimonie know that the truth he alone discovereth, the same he oweth unto fortune and chance, since even when she is falne into his hands, he wanteth wherwith to lay hold on her and keepe her; and that this reason hath not the power to prevaile with it.  All things produced by our owne discource and sufficiencie, as well true as false, are subject to uncertaintie and disputation.  It is for the punishment of our temeritie and instruction of our miserie and incapacitie, that God caused the trouble, downefall and confusion of Babels Tower.  Whatsoever we attempt without his assistance, whatever we see without the lampe of his grace, is but vanity and folly:  With our weaknes we corrupt and adulterate the very essence of truth (which is uniforme and constant when fortune giveth us the possession of it.  What course soever man taketh of himself, it is Gods permission that he ever commeth to that confusion whose image he so lively representeth unto us by the just punishment, wherewith he framed the presumptuous overweening of Nembroth, and brought to nothing the frivolous enterprises of the building of his high-towring Pvramis or Heaven-menacing tower.  Perdam sapientiam sapientium et prudentiam prudentium reprobabo:/1  'I will destroy the wisdome of the wise, and reprove the providence of them that are most
-----
1 1 Cor. i. 19. 

prudent.' The diversitie of tongues and languages wherewith he disturbed that worke and overthrew that proudly-raisd Pile; what else is it but this infinit altercation and perpetual discordance of opinions and reasons which accompanieth and entangleth the frivolous frame of mans learning, or vaine building of human science?  Which he doth most profitably.  Who might containe us, had we but one graine of knowledge?  This Saint hath done me much pleasure: Ipsa Veritatis occultatio, aut humilitatis exercitatio est, out elationis attritio:/1  'The very concealing of the profit is either an exercise of humilitie or a beating downe of arrogancie.' Unto what point of presumption and insolencie do we not carry our blindnesse and foolishnesse?  But to returne to my purpose: Verily there was great reason that we should be beholding to God alone,{Antonio+} and to the benefit of his grace, for the truth of so noble a beliefe, since from his liberalitie alone we receive the fruit of immortalitie, which consisteth in enjoying of eternall blessednesse.  Let us ingenuously confesse that only God and Faith hath told it us: for it is no lesson of Nature, nor comming from our reason.  And he that shall both within and without narrowly sift and curiously sound his being and his forces without this divine privilege, he that shall view and consider man without flattering him, shall nor finde nor see either efficacie or facultie in him that tasteth of any other thing but death and earth.  The more we give, the more we owe:{grace+} and the more we yeeld unto God, the more Christian- like doe we. That which the Stoike Philosopher said he held by the casuall consent of the peoples voice, had it not beene better he had held it of God? {Antonio+} Cum de animorum aeternitate disserimus, non leue momentum apud nos habet Consensus hominum, aut timentium inferos aut colentium.  Vtor hac publica persuasione:/2  'When we discourse of the immortalitie of soules, in my conceit the consent of those men is of no small authoritie, who either feare or adore the infernall powers.' This publike persuasion
-----
1 AUGUSTIN, de Civ.  Dei, xi. 22. 2 SEN.  Epist. 117. 

I make use of.  Now the weaknes of human arguments on this subject is very manifestly knowne by the fabulous circumstances they have added unto the traine of this opinion, to finde out what condition this our immortalitie was of.  Let us omit the Stoickes. Usuram nobis largiuntur, tanquam cornicibus: diu mansuros aiunt animos, semper, negant./1   'They grant us use of life, as is unto Ravens: they say our soules shall long continue, but they deny they shall last ever.  Who gives unto soules a life beyond this but finite.'  The most universall and received fantasie, and which endureth to this day, hath beene that whereof Pythagoras is made Author, not that he was the first inventor of it, but because it received much force and credit by the authoritie of his approbation; which is, that soules, at their departure from us did but pass and roule from one to another body, from a Lyon to a Horse, from a Horse to a King, uncessantly wandring up and downe from House to Mansion.  And himselfe said that he remembred to have been AEthalides, then Euphorbus, afterward Hermotimus, at last from Pyrrhus to have passed into Pythagoras; having memorie of himselfe the space of two hundred and six years: some added more, that the same soules doe sometimes ascend up to heaven and come downe againe:

O Pater anne aliquas ad coelum hinc ire putandum est
Sublimes animas, interumque ad tarda reverti
Corpora?  Quae lucis miseris tam dira cupido?/2

Must we thinke (Father) some soules hence doe go,
Raised to heav'n, thence turne to bodies slow?
Whence doth so dyre desire of light on wretches grow?

of alteration to which the soule is prepared, having no wearines nor rewards in the other world but temporall, as her life in this is but temporall, concludeth in her a singular knowledge of the affaires of Heaven, of Hell, and here below, where she hath passed, repassed, and sojourned in many voyages, a matter in his remembrance.  Beholde her progresse elsewhere: he that hath lived well reconjoyneth himself unto that Star or Planet to which he is assigned: who evill, passeth into a woman: and if then he amend not himself, he trans-changeth himselfe into a beast of condition agreeing to his vicious customes, and shall never see an end of his punishments untill he returne to his naturall condition, and by virtue of reason he have deprived himselfe of those grose, stupide, and elementarie qualities that were in him.  But I will not forget the objection which the Epicureans make unto this transmigration from one body to another: which is very pleasant. They demand what order there should be if the throng of the dying should be greater than that of such as be borne.  For the soules removed from their abode would throng and strive together who should get the best seat in this new case: and demand besides what they would pass their time about, whilst they should stay untill any other mansion were made ready for them: Or contrary-wise, if more creatures were borne than should dye, they say bodies shall be in an ill taking, expecting the infusion of their soule, and it would come to passe that some of them should dye before they had ever been living.

Denique connubia ad veneris, partusque ferarunt,
Esse animas praesto deridiculum esse videtur,
Et spectare immortales mortalia membra
Innumero numero, certareque praeproperanter
Inter se, quae prima potissimaque insinuetur./1

Lastly, ridiculous it is, soules should be prest
To Venus meetings, and begetting of a beast:
That they to mortall lims immortall be addrest
In number numberlesse, and over-hasty strive,
Which of them first and chiefe should get in there to live.

Others have staid the soule in the deceased bodies, therewith to animate serpents, wormes, and other beasts, which are said to engender from the corruption of our members, yea, and from our ashes: others divide it in two parts, one mortall, another immortall: others make it corporeall, and yet notwithstanding immortall: others make it immortall, without any science or knowledge.  Nay, there are some of ours who have deemed that of condemned mens souls divels were made: as Plutarke+ thinks, that Gods are made of those soules which are saved: for there be few things that this author doth more resolutely averre then this; holding every where else an ambiguous and doubtfull kind of speech.  It is to be imagined and firmlie believed (saith he) that the soules of men, vertuous both according unto nature and divine justice, become of Men, Saints, and of Saints, Demi-Gods, and after they are once perfectly, as in sacrifices of purgation, cleansed and purified {Dante+} being delivered from all possibility and mortalitie, become, of Demi-Gods (not by any civill ordinance, but in good truth, and according to manifest reason) perfect and very very Gods; receiving a most blessed and thrice glorious end.  But whosoever shall see him who is notwithstanding one of the most sparing and moderate of that faction, so undantedly to skirmish, and will beare him relate his wonders upon this subject, him I refer to his discourse of the Moone, and of Socrates his Daemon; where as evidently as in any other place, may be averred that the mysteries of Philosophy have many strange conceits, common with those of Poesie; mans understanding losing it selfe once goes about to sound and controule all things to the utmost ende; as, tired and troubled by a long and wearisome course of our life, we returne to a kind of doting childhood.  Note here the goodly and certaine instructions which concerning our soules-subject we drawe from humane knowledge.  There is no lesse rashnesse in that which shee teacheth us touching our corporall parts.  Let us make choyce but of one or two examples, else should 

we lose our selves in this troublesome and vaste Ocean of Physicall errours.  Let us know whether they agree but in this one, that is to say, of what matter men are derived and produced one from another.  For, touching their first production, it is no marvell if in a thing so high and so ancient mans wit is troubled and confounded.  Archelaus, the Physitian, to whom (as Aristoxenus affirmeth) Socrates was disciple and Minion, assevered that both men and beasts had beene made of milkie slime or mudde, expressed by the heate of the earth.  Pythagoras saith that our seed is the scumme or froth of our best blood:  Plato, the distilling of the marrow in the back-bone, which he argueth thus because that place feeleth first the wearinesse which followeth the generative businesse.  Alcmaeon, a part of the braine substance, which to prove he saith their eyes are ever most troubled that over-intemperately addict themselves to that exercise.  Democritus, a substance extracted from all parts of this corporall Masse.  Epicurus, extracted from the last soule and the body.  Aristotle, an excrement drawne from the nourishment of the blood, the last scattereth it selfe in our severall members; others, blood, concocted and digested by the heate of the genitories, which they judge because in the extreme, earnest, and forced labours, many shed drops of pure blood; wherein some appearance seemeth to be, if from so infinit a confusion any likelihood may be drawne.  But to bring this seed to effect, how many contrary opinions make they of it?  Aristotle and Democritus hold that women have no sperme, that it is but a sweate, which by reason of the pleasure and frication they cast forth, and availeth nothing in generation.      Galen and his adherents contrariwise, affirme that there can be no generation except two seeds meete together.  Behold the Physitians, the Philosophers, the Lawyers, and the Divines pell-mell together by the eares with our women about the question and disputation how long women beare their fruite in their wombe.  And as for me, by mine owne example, I 

take their part that maintaine a woman may go eleven months with childe. The worlde is framed of this experience, there is no meane woman so simple that cannot give her censure upon all these contestations, although we could not agree.  This is sufficient to verifie that in the corporall part man is no more instructed of himselfe than in the spirituall.  We have proposed himselfe to himselfe, and his reason to reason, to see what shee shall tell us of it.  Mee thinkes I have sufficiently declared how little understanding shee hath of herselfe.  And hee who hath no understanding of himselfe, what can he have understanding of? Quasi vero mensuram ullius rei possit agere qui sui nesciat: 'As though he could take measure of any thing that knowes not his owne measure'.  Truely Protagoras told us prettie tales, when hee makes a man the measure of all things, who never knew so much as his owne.  If it be not hee, his dignitie will never suffer any other creature to have this advantage over him.  Now he being so contrary in himselfe, and one judgement so uncessantly subverting another, this favorable proposition was but a jest, which induced us necessarily to conclude the nullity of the Compasse and the Compasser.  When Thales judgeth the knowledge of man very hard unto man, he teacheth him the knowledge of all other things to be impossible unto him.  You for whom I have taken the paines to enlarge so long a worke (against my custome) will not shun to maintaine your Sebond with the ordinary forme of arguing, whereof you are daily instructed, and will therein exercise both your minde and study; for this last trick of sense must not be employed but as an extreme remedy.  It is a desperate thrust, gainst which you must forsake your weapons, to force your adversary to renounce his, and a secret slight, which must seldome and very sparingly be put in practice.  It is a great fond hardnesse to lose our selfe for the losse of another.  A man must not be willing to die to revenge+ himselfe, as Gobrias was: who being close by the eares
-----
1 PLIN.  Nat.  Hist. 1. ii. c. 1. 

with a Lord of Persia, Darius chanced to come in with his sword in his hand, and fearing to strike for feare he should hurt Gobrias, he called unto him, and bade him smite boldly, although he should smite through both./1 I have heard armes and conditions of single combates being desperate, and in which he that offered them put not himselfe and his enemie in danger of an end inevitable to both, reproved as unjust, and condemned as unlawfull. The Portugais took once certaine Turkes prisoners in the Indian Seas, who, impatient of their capacity, resolved with themselves (and their resolution succeeded) by rubbing of Ship- nailes one against another, and causing sparkes of fire to fall amongst the barrels of powder (which lay not far from them) with intent to consume both themselves, their masters, and the ship.  We but touch at the skirts, and glance at the last closings of the Sciences, wherein extremity, as well as in vertue, is vicious.  Keepe your selves in the common path, it is not good to be so subtil and so curious.{PlainDealer+} Remember what the Italian proverbe saith,

Chi troppo assottiglia, si scavezza./2

Who makes himselfe too fine,
Doth break himselfe in fine.

enterdevour one another.  And Plato verifieth that without lawes we should live like beasts. {Yahoo+} Our spirit is a vagabond, a dangerous and fond-hardy implement; it is very harde to joyne order and measure to it.  In my time, such as have any rare excellency above others, or extraordinary vivacity, we see them almost all so lavish and unbridled in licence of opinions and manners, as it may be counted a wonder to find any one settled and sociable. There is great reason why the spirit of man should be so strictly embarred. In his study, as in all things else, he must have his steps numbered and ordered.  The limits of his pursuite must be cut out by art.  He is bridled and fettered with and by religions, lawes, customes, knowledge, precepts, paines, and recompences, both mortall and immortall; {Kurtz+} yet we see him, by meanes of his volubility and dissolution, escape all these bonds. It is a vaine body that hath no way about him to be seized on or cut off: a diverse and deformed body, on which neither knot nor hold may be fastened.{Yahoo+} Verily there are few soules so orderly, so constante and so well borne as may be trusted with their owne conduct, and may not with moderation, and without rashnes, faile in the liberty of their judgements beyond common opinions.  It is more expedient to give some body the charge and tuition of them.  The spirit is an outrageous glaive, yea even to his owne possessor, except he have the grace very orderly and discreetly to arme himselfe therewith. And there is no beast to whom one may more justly apply a blinding bord, to keepe her sight in and force her to her footing, and keepe from straying here and there, without the tracke which use and lawes trace her out. {Kurtz+} Therefore shall it be better for you to close and bound your selves in the accustomed path, however it be, than to take your flight to this unbridled licence.  But if any one of these new doctors shall undertake to play the wise or ingenious before you, at the charge of his and your health: to rid you out of this dangerous plague, which daily more and more spreds it selfe in your Courts this preservative will in any extreame necessity, be a 

let, that the contagion of this venome shall neither offend you nor your assistance.  The liberty then, and the jollity of their ancient spirits brought forth many different Sects of opinions, in Philosophy and humane Sciences: every one undertaking to judge and chuse, so he might raise a faction.  But now that men walke all one way: Qui certis quibusdam destinatisque sententiis addicti et consecrate sunt, ut etiam quae non probant, cogantur defendere:/1  'Who are addicted and consecrated to certaine set and fore-decreed opinions, so as they are enforced to maintaine those things which they prove or approve not:' And that wee receive Arts by civill authority and appointment: so that Schooles have but one patterne, alike circumscribed discipline and institution; no man regardeth more what coines weigh and are worth; but every man in his turne receiveth them according to the value that common approbation and succession allotteth them:  Men dispute no longer of the alloy, but of the use.  So are all things spent and vented like. Physike is received as Geometry: and jugling tricks, encjantments, bonds, the commerce of deceased spirits, prognostications, domifications, yea even this ridiculous wit and wealth-consuming pursuite of the Philosophers stone, all is emploied and uttered without contradiction.  It sufficeth to know that Mars his place lodgeth in the middle of the hands triangle; that of Venus in the thumme; and Mercuries in the little finger: and when the table-line cutteth the fore- finger's rising, it is a signe of cruelty: when it falleth under the middle finger, and that the naturall median-line makes an angle with the vitall, under the same side, it is a signe of a miserable death: and when a womans naturall line is open, and closes not its angle with the vitall, it evidenty denotes that she will not be very chast.  I call your selfe to witnesse, if with this Science onely, a man may not passe with reputation and favour among all companies.  Theophrastus was wont to say that mans knowledge, directed by the sense, might judge of the causes of things unto 1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. ii. 

a certaine measure, but being come to the extream and first causes, it must necessarily stay, and be blunted or abated, either by reason of its weaknesse or of the things difficulty.  It is an indifferent and pleasing kind of opinion to thinke that our sufficiency may bring us to the knowledge of some things, and hath certaine measures of power beyond which it's temerity to employ it.  This opinion is plausible and brought in by way of composition: but it is hard to give our spirit any limits, being very curious and greedy, and not tied to stay rather at a thousand then at fifty spaces.  Having found by experience that if one had mist to attaine unto some one thing, another hath come unto it, and that which one age never knew, the age succeeding hath found out: and that Sciences and Arts are not cast in a mold, but rather by little and little formed and shaped by often handling and polishing them over: even as beares fashion their yong whelps by often licking them: what my strength cannot discover, I cease not to sound and try: and in handling and kneading this new matter, and with removing and chasing it, I open some faculty for him that shall follow me, that with more ease he may enjoy the same, and make it more facile, more supple and more pliable:

     -----vt hymettia sole
Cera remollescit, tractataque pollice, multas
Vertitur in facies, ipsoque fit vtilis vsu./1

As the best Bees wax melteth by the Sun,
And handling, into many formes doth run,
And is made aptly fit
For use by using it.

discourse is overthrowne.  The dispute hath no other scope, and to enquire no other end but the principles:  If this end stay not his course, he casteth himself into an infinite irresolution.  Non potest aliud alio magis minusque comprehendi, quoiam omnium reram vna est definitio comprehendendi: 'One thing can neither more nor lesse be comprehended than another, since of all things there is one definition of comprehending.  Now it is likely that if the soule knew any thing, shee first know her selfe: and if she knew any without and besides her selfe, it must be her vaile and body before any thing else.  If even at this day the Gods of Physicke are seene to wrangle about our Anatomie,

Mulciber in Troiam, pro Troia stabat Apollo,/1

Apollo stood for Troy,
Vulcan Troy to destroy,

that they might rather incline to one apparence then to another.  They allowed her this propension, interdicting her all resolution.  The Pyrrhonians advise is more hardy, and therewithall more likely.  For this Academicall inclination, and this propension rather to one then another proposition, what else is it then a recognition of some more apparant truth, in this than in that?  If our understanding be capable of the forme, of the lineaments, of the behaviour and face of truth, it might as well see it all compleat, as but halfe, growing and imperfect.  For this apparance of verisimilitude which makes them rather take the left then the right hand, doe you augment it; this one ounce of likelihood, which turnes the ballance, doe you multiply it by a hundred, nay by a thousand ounces; it wil in the end come to passe that the ballance will absolutely resolve and conclude one choice and perfect truth.  But how doe they suffer themselves to be made tractable by likelihood, if they know not truth?  How know they the semblance of that whereof they understand not the essence?  Either we are able to judge absolutely, or absolutely we cannot.  If our intellectuall and sensible faculties are without ground or footing, if they but hull up and downe and drive with the wind, for nothing suffer we our judgment to be carried away to any part of their operation, what apparauce soever it seemeth to present us with.  And the surest and most happy situation of our understanding should be that, where without any tottering or agitation it might maintaine it selfe setled, upright and inflexible.  Inter visa, vera, aut falsa, ad animi assensum, nihil interest:/1
'There is no difference betwixt true and false visions concerning the mindes assent.'  That things lodge not in us in their proper forme and essence, and make not their entrance into us of their owne power and authority, we see it most evidently.  For if it were so, we would receive them all alike: wine should be such in a sicke mans mouth as in a healthy mans.  He whose fingers are chopt through cold, and stiffe or benummed with
-----
1 CIC.  Acad.  Qu. 1. iv. 

frost, should find the same hardnesse in the wood or iron he might handle, which another doth.  Then strange subjects yeeld unto our mercy, and lodge with us according to our pleasure.  Now if on our part we receive any thing without alteration, if mans holdfasts were capable and sufficiently powerfull by our proper meanes to seize on truth, those meanes being common to all; this truth would successively remove it selfe from one to another.  And of so many things as are in the world, at least one should be found, that by an universall consent should be beleeved of all.  But that no proposition is seene, which is not controversied and debated amongst us, or that may not be, declareth plainly that our judgment doth not absolutely and clearly seize on that which it seizeth: for my judgment cannot make my fellowes judgment to receive the same: which is a signe that I have seized upon it by some other meane then by a naturall power in me or other men.  Leave we apart this infinite confusion of opinions, which is seene amonge Philosophers themselves, and this universal and perpetuall disputation, in and concerning the knowledge of things.  For it is most truly presupposed that men (I mean the wisest, the best borne, yea and the most sufficient do never agree; no not so much that heaven is over our heads.  For they who doubt of all, doe also doubt of this: and such as affirme that we cannot conceive any thing, say we have not conceived whether heaven be over our heads; which two opinions are in number (without any comparison) the most forcible. Besides this diversity and infinite division, by reason of the trouble which our owne judgement layeth upon our selves, and the uncertainty which every man findes in himselfe, it may manifestly be perceived that this situation is very uncertaine and unstaid.  How diversely judge we of things? How often change we our phantasies?  What I hold and beleeve this day I beleeve and hold with all my beleefe: all my implements, springs and motions, embrace and claspe this opinion, and to the utmost of their power warrant the 

same:  I could not possibly embrace any verity, nor with more assurance keepe it, than I doe this.  I am wholy and absolutely given to it: but hath it not beene my fortune, not once, but a hundred, nay a thousand times, nay daily, to have embraced some other thing with the very same instruments and condition which upon better advise I have afterward judged false?  A man should, at the least become wise at his owne cost, and learne by others harmes.  If under this colour I have often found my selfe deceived, if my Touch-stone be commonly found false and my ballance un-even and unjust; what assurance may I more take of it at this time than at others?  Is it not folly in me to suffer my selfe so often to be beguiled and couzened by one guide?  Neverthelesse, let fortune remove us five hundred times from our place, let her doe nothing but incessantly empty and fill, as in a vessell, other and other opinions in our mind, the present and last is alwaies supposed certaine and infallible.  For this must a man have goods, honour, life, state, health and all:

     -----posterior res illa reperta
Perdit; et immutat sensus ad pristina guaeque./1

The latter thing destroies all found before;
And alters sense at all things lik'd of yore.

whatsoever we receive in our understanding we often receive false things, and that it is by the same instruments which many times contradict and deceive themselves.  And no marvell if they contradict themselves, being so easy to encline, and upon very slight occasions subject to waver and turne.  Certaine it is that our apprehension, our judgement, and our soules faculties in generall, doe suffer according to the bodies motions and alterations, which are continuall.  Have we not our spirits more vigilant, our memorie more ready, and our discourses more lively in time of health then in sicknesse? Doth not joy and blithenesse make us receive the subjects that present themselves unto our soule, with another kind of countenance, then lowring vexation and drooping melancholy doth?  Doe you imagine that Catullus or Saphoes verses delight and please an old covetous chuff-penny wretch as they do a lusty and vigorous yong man?  Cleomenes the sonne of Anaxandridas being sick, his friends reproved him, saying he had new strange humors and unusuall phantasies: 'It is not unlikely,' answered he, 'for I am not the man I was wont to be in the time of health; but being other, so are my fantasies and my humors.  In the rabble case- canvasing of our plea-courts this byword, Gaudeat de bona fortuna: 'Let him joy in his good fortune" is much in use, and is spoken of criminall offenders, who happen to meete with Judges in some milde temper or well-pleased mood.  For it is most certaine that in times of condemnation the Judges doome or sentence is sometimes perceived to be more sharpen mercilesse and forward, and at other times more tractable, facile, and enclined to shadow or excuse an offence, according as he is well or ill pleased in mind.  A man that commeth out of his house troubled with the paine of the goute, vexed with jealousy, or angry that his servant hath robbed him, and whose mind is overcome with griefe, and plunged with vexation, and distracted with anger, there is not question to be made but his judgement is at that instant distempred, and much transported that way.  That 

venerable senate of the Areopagites was wont to judge and sentence by night, for feare the sight of the suters might corrupt justice.  The ayre it selfe, and the clearenes of the firmament, doth forbode us some change and alteration of weather, as saith that Greek verse in Cicero:

Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse
Iupiter auctifera lustravit lampade terras./1

Such are mens mindes, as with increasefull light
Our father Jove survaies the world in sight.

measures: there remaines nothing but the skill and sufficiency to know how to turne and winde the same.  How well soever a Judge meaneth, and what good mind so ever he beareth, if diligent care be not given unto him (to which few ammuse themselves) his inclination unto friendship, unto kindred, unto beauty, and unto revenge, and not onely matters of so weighty consequence, but this innated and casual instinct which us to favour one thing more than another, and encline to one man more than to another, and which, without any leave or reason, giveth us the choice in two like subjects, or some shadow of like vanity, may insensibly insinuate in his judgment the commendation and applause, or disfavour and disallowance of a cause, and give the ballance a twitch.  I that nearest prie into my selfe, and who have mine eyes uncessantly fixt upon me as one that hath not much else to do else where,.

Quis sub Arcto
Rex gelidae metuatur orae,
Quid Tyridatem terreat unice
Securus,/1

Only secure, who in cold coast
Under theNorth-pole rules the rost,
And there is feare or what would fright,
And Tyridates put to flight,

any thing, and other times fit to doe nothing: what now is pleasing to me within a while after will be paineful.  There are a thousand indiscreet and casuall agitations in me.  Either a melancholy humour possesseth me, or a cholericke passion swaieth me, which having shaken off, sometimes frowardilesse and peevishnesse hath predominancy, and other times gladnes and blithnesse overrule me.  If I chance to take a booke in hand I shall in some passages perceive some excellent graces, and which ever wound me to the soule with delight; but let me lay it by and read him another time; let me turne and tosse him as I list, let me apply and manage him as I will, I shall finde it an unknowne and shapelesse masse.  Even in my writings I shall not at all times finde the tracke or ayre of my first imaginations; I wot not my selfe what I would have said, and shall vexe and fret my selfe in correcting and giving a new sense to them, because I have peradventure forgotten or lost the former, which happily was better.  I doe but come and goe; my judgement doth not alwaies goe forward, but is ever floting and wandering.

     ----- velut minuta magno
Deprensa navis in mari, vesaniente vento./1

Much like a pettie skiffe, that's taken short
In a grand Sea, when winds doe make mad sport.

angrie we more violently give our selves to defend our proposition, emprint it in our selves, and embrace the same with more vehemencie and approbation than we did being in our temperate and reposed sense.  You relate simply your case unto a Lawyer; he answers faltring and doubtfully unto it, whereby you perceive it is indifferent unto him to defend either this or that side, all is one to him. {lawyers+} Have you paid him well, have you given him a good baite or fee to make him earnestly apprehend it, beginnes he to be enterested in the matter, is his will moved or his minde enflamed? Then will his reason be moved and his knowledge enflamed with all.  See then an apparent and undoubted truth presents it self to his understanding, wherein he discovers a new light, and believes it in good sooth, and so perswades himselfe.  Shall I tell you?  I wot not whether the heate proceedingk of spight and obstinacie against the impression and violence of a magistrate and of danger: or the interest of reputation have induced some man to maintaine, even in the fiery flames, the opinion for which amongst his friends and at libertie he would never have beene moved nor have ventured his fingers end.  The motions and fits which our soule receiveth by corporall passions doe greatly prevaile in her, but more her owne, with which it is so fully possest, as happily it may be maintained she hath no other or motion than by the blasts of her windes, and that without their agitation she should remaine without action, as a ship at sea which the winds have utterly forsaken.{Pope+} And he who should maintaine that following the Peripatetike faction should offer us no great wrong, since it is knowne that the greatest number of the soules actions proceede and have neede of this impulsion of passion; valor (say they) cannot be perfected without the assistance of choler.{anger+}

Semper Aiax fortis, fortissimus tamen in furore./1

Ajax every valor had,
Most then, when he was most mad.

     Nor doth any man run violently enough upon the wicked, or his enemies, except he be throughly angrie; and they are of opinion that an advocate or counsellor at the barre, to have the cause goe on his side, and to have justice at the judges hands, doth first endevor to provoke him to anger.  Longing-desires moved Themistocles and urged Demosthenes, and have provoked Philosophers to long travels, to tedious watchings, and to lingring peregrinations and leads us to honours, to doctrine, and to health: all profitable respects.  And this demissenes of the soule in suffering molestion and tediousness, serveth to no other purpose, but to breed repentance and cause penitence in our consciences, and for our punishment to feele the scourge of God and the rod of politike correction.  Compassion serveth as a sting unto clemencie, and wisdome to preserve and governe our selves, is by our owne feare rouzed up; and how many noble actions by ambition, how many by presumption.  To conclude, no eminent or glorious vertue can be without some immoderate and irregular agitation. {Pope+} May not this be one of the reasons which moved the Epicureans to discharge God of all care and thought of our affaires: forsomuch as the very effects of his goodnesse cannot exercise themselves towards us without disturbing his rest by meanes of the passions+ which are as motives and solicitations directing the soule to vertuous actions?  Or have they thought otherwise, and take them as tempests which shamefully lead astray the soule from her rest and tranquillitie? Vt maris tranquillita intelligitur, nulla, ne minima quidem, aura fluctus, commovente:  Sic animi quietus et placatus status cernitur, quam perturbatio nulla est, quw moveri queat:/1  'As we conceive the seas calmnesse, when not so much as the least pirling wind doth stirre the waves, so is a peaceable reposed state of the mind then seene when there is no perturbation whereby it may be moved.'  What differences of sense and reason, what contrarietie of imaginations doth the diversitie of our passions present unto us?  What
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. v. 

assurance may we then take of so unconstant and wavering a thing, subject by its owne condition to the power of trouble, never marching but a forced and borrowed pace?  If our judgement be in the hands of sickenes itselfe and of perturbation; if by rashnesse and folly it be retained to receive the impression of things, what assurance may we expect at his hands?  Dares not Philosophie thinke that men produce their greatest effects, and neerest approaching to divinity when they are besides themselves, furious, and madde?  We amend our selves by the privation of reason, and by her drooping. The two naturall waies to enter the cabinet of the Gods, and there to foresee the course of the destinies, are furie and sleepe.  This is very pleasing to be considered.  By the dislocation that passions bring into our reason, we become vertuous; by the extirpation which either furie or the image of death bringeth us, we become Prophets and Divines.  I never beleeved it more willingly.  It is a meere divine inspiration that sacred truth hath inspired in a Philosophical spirit which against his proposition exacteth from him; that the quiet state of our soule, the best-settled estate, yea the healthfullesi that Philosophy can acquire unto it, is not the best estate.  Our vigilancie is more drouzie then asleepe it selfe: our wisdome lesse wise then folly; our dreames of more worth then our discourses.  The worst place we can take is in ourselves.  But thinks it not that we have the foresight to marke, that the voice which the spirit uttereth when he is gone from man so cleare sighted, so great, and so perfect, and whilst he is in man so earthly, so ignorant, and so overclouded, is a voice proceeding from the spirit which is in earthly, ignorant, and overclouded man; and therefore a trustles and not to be-believed voice?  I have no great experience in these violent agitations, being of a soft and dull complexion, the greatest part of which, without giving it leisure to acknowledge her selfe, doe sodainely surprise our soule.  But that passion, which in young mens harts is saied to be produced by idleness, although it march but 

leasurely and with a measured progress, doth evidently present to those that have assaid to oppose themselves against her endevour, the power of the conversion and alteration which our judgement suffereth.  I have some times enterprised to arme my selfe with a resolution to abide, resist, and suppresse the same.  For I am so farre from being in their ranke that call and allure vices, that unlesse they draw me I scarcely follow them. I felt it mauger my resistance, to breed, to growe, and to augment; and in the end, being in perfect health and cleare sighted, to seize upon and pollute me; in such sort that as in drunkennes the image of things began to appeare unto me otherwise then it was wont.  I saw the advantages of the subject I sought after evidently to swell and grow greater, and much to encrease by the winde of my imagination; and the difficulties of my enterprise to become more easie and plaine, and my discourse and conscience to shrinke and draw backe.  But that fire being evaporated all on a sodaine, as by the flashing of a lightning, my soule to reassume an other sight, an other state, and other judgement.  The difficultie in my retreate seemed great and invincible, and the very same things of another taste and shew than the fervency of desire had presented them unto me.  And which more truly, Pyrrho cannot tell.  We are never without some infirmitie.  Fevers have their heat and their cold: from the effects of a burning passion, we fall into the effects of a chilling passion.  So much as I had cast my selfe forward, so much doe I draw my selfe backe.

Qualis ubi alterno procurrens gurgite pontus,
Nunc ruit ad terrar, scopilisque superjacit undam,
Spumeus, extremamque sinu prefundit arenam,
Nunc rapidus retro, atque aestu rvoluta resorbens
Saxa, fugit, littusque vado labente relinquit./1

As th' Ocean flowing, ebbing in due course,
To land now rushes, foming throws his fource
On rocks, therewith bedewes the utmost sand,
Now swift returns the stones rowld backe from strand
By tide resucks, foord failing, leaves the land.

     Now by the knowledge of my volubilitie, I have by accident engendred some constancy of opinions in my selfe; yea have not so much altered my first and naturall ones.  For, what apparance soever there be in novelty, I do not easily change for feare I should lose by the bargaine: and since I am not capable to chuse, I take the choice from others; and keepe my selfe in the seate that God hath placed me in.  Else could I hardly keepe my selfe from continuall rowling.  Thus have I by the Grace of God preserved my selfe whole (without agitation or trouble of conscience) in the ancient beliefe of our religion, in the middest of so many sects and divisions which our age hath brought forth.  The writings of the ancient fathers (I meane the good, the solide, and the serious) doe tempt, and in a manner remove me which way they list.  Him that I heare seemeth ever the most forcible.  I finde them everie one in his turne to have reason, although they contrary one another.  That facility which good witts have to prove any thing they please likel; and that there is nopthing so strange but that they will undertake to set so good a gloss on it, as it shall easily deceive a simplicity like unto mine, doth manifestly shew the weaknesse of their proofe.  The heavens and the planets have moved these three thousand yeares, and all the world beleeved as much, untill Cleanthes the Samian, or else (according to Theophrastus) Nicetas the Syracusian tooke upon him to maintaine, it was the earth that moved, by the oblique circle of the Zodiake, turning about her axell tree.  And in our daies Copernicus hath so well grounded this doctrine, that hee doth orderly fit it to all astrologicall consequences.  What shall we reape by it but only that wee neede not care which of the two it be?  And who knoweth whether a thousand yeares hence a third opinion will rise, which happily shall overthrow these two precedents?

Sic volvenda aetas vommutat tempora rerum,
Quodque fuit pretio, fit nullo denique honore,
Porro aliud succedit, et contemptibus exit,

Inque dies magis appetitur, floretque repertum Laudibus, et miro est mortales inter honore./1

So age to be past-over alters times of things:
What earst was most esteem'd,
At last nought-worth is deem'd:
Another then succeeds, and from contempt upsprings,
Is daily more desir'd, flowreth as found but then
With praise and wondrous honor amongst mortall men.

bath only served to kill people.  I thinke he will easily verify it. But I suppose it were no great wisedome to hazard my life upon the triall of his newfangled experience. 'We must not beleeve all men,' saith the precept, since every man may say all things.  It is not long since that one of these professours of novelties and physical reformations told me that all our forefathers had notoriously abused themselves in the nature and motion of the winds, which, if I should listen unto him, he would manifestly make me perceive.  After I had with some patience given attendance to his arguments, which were indeed full of likelyhood, I demanded of him whether they which had sailed according to Theophrastus his lawes, went westward when they bent their course eastward?  Or whether they sailed sideling or backward? 'It is fortune,' answered he, 'but so it is, they tooke their marke amisse:' To whom I then replied that I would rather follow the effects than his reason.  They are things that often shock together: and it hath beene told mee that in geometry (which supposeth to have gained the high point of certainty amongst all sciences) there are found unavoidable demonstrations, and which subvert the truth of all experience: as James Peletier told me in mine owne house, that he had found out two lines bending their course one towards another, as if they would meet and joyne together; neverthelesse he affirmed that, even unto infinity, they could never come to touch one another.  And the Pyrrhonians use their arguments, and reason but to destroy the apparance of experience: and it is a wonder to see how far the supplenesse of our reason hath in this design followed them to resist the evidence of effects: for they affirme that we move not, that we speake not, that there is no weight, nor heat, with the same force of arguing that we averre the most likeliest things.  Ptolomey, who was an excellent man, had established the bounds of the world; all ancient philosophers have thought they had a perfect measure thereof, except it were certaine scattered ilands which might escape their knowledge: it had 

beene to Pyrrhonize a thousand yeares agoe, had any man gone about to make a question of the art of cosmography: and the opinions that have beene received thereof, of all men in generall: it had beene flat heresie to avouch that there were Antipodes.  See how in our age an infinite greatnesse of firme land hath beene discovered, not an iland onely, nor one particular country, but a part in greatnesse very neere equall unto that which we knew.  Our moderne geographers cease not to affirme that now all is found, and all is discovered:

Nam quod adest praesto, placet, et pollere videtur,/1

For what is present here,
Seemes strong, is held most deare.

worke, and that by consequence he is subject unto change.  In the most famous schooles of Greece, the world is reputed a God framed by another greater and mightier God, and is composed of a body and a soule, which abideth in his centre, spreading it selfe by musicall numbers unto his circumference, divine, thrice happy, very great, most wise and eternall. In it are other Gods, as the sea, the earth, and planets, which with an harmonious celestiall dance; sometime meeting, other times farre-sundering themselves; now hiding, them shewing themselves; and changing place, now forward, now backward.  Heraclitus firmly mainitained that the world was composed of fire, and by the destinies order it should one day burst forth into flames, and be so consumed into cinders, and another day it should be new borne againe.  And Apuleius of men saith: Sigillatim mortales; cunctim perpetui:/1  'Severally mortall; altogether everlasting.'   Alexander writ unto his mother the narration of an AEgyptian priest, drawne from out their monuments, witnessing the antiquitie of that nation, infinite; and comprehending the birth and progresse of their countries to the life. Cicero and Diodorus said in their daies that the Chaldeans kept a register of foure hundred thousand and odde yeares; Aristotle, Plinie, and others, that Zoroaster lived sixe thousand yeares before Plato.  And Plato saith that those of the citty of Sais have memories in writing of eight thousand yeares, and that the towne of Athens was built a thousand yeares before the citty of Sais.  Epicurus, that at one same time all things that are looke how we see them, they are all alike, and in the same fashion, in divers other Worlds, which he would have spoken more confidently had he seene the similitudes and correspondencies of this new-found world of the West Indiaes with ours, both present and past, by so many strange examples. Truly, when I consider what hath followed our learning by the course of this
-----
1 L.  APUL.  De Deo; SOCRAT. 

terrestriall policies I have divers times wondered at my selfe, to see in so great a distance of times and places, the simpathy or jumping of so great a number of popular and wilde opinions, and of extravagant customes and beliefes, and which by no meanes seeme to hold with our naturall discourse. Man's spirit is a wonderfull worker of miracles.  But this relation hath yet a kind of I wot not what more Heteroclite: which is found both in names and a thousand other things.  For there were found Nations which (as far as we know) bad never heard of us, where circumcision was held in request; where great states and commonwealths were maintained onely by women, and no men: where our fasts and Lent was represented, adding thereunto the abstinence from women; where our crosses were severall waies in great esteeme. In some places they adorned and honored their sepulchres with them, and elsewhere especially that of Saint Andrew, they employed to shield themselves from nightly visions, and to lay them upon childrens couches, as good against enchantments and witchcrafts.  In another place they found one made of wood, of an exceeding height, worshipped for the God of raine; which was thrust very deepe into the ground.  There was found a very expresse and lively image of our Penitentiaries: the use of Miters, the Priestes single life; the Art of Divination by the entrailes of sacrificed beasts; the abstinence from all sorts of flesh and fish for their food; the order amongst Priests, in saying of their divine service, to use a not vulgar but a particular tongue; and this erroneous and fond conceipt, that the first God was expelled his throne by a younger brother of his: that they were at first created with all commodities, which afterward, by reason of their sinnes, were abridged them: that their territory hath beene changed; that their naturall condition hath beene much impaired: that they have heretofore beene drowned by the inundation of Waters come from heaven; that none were saved but a few families, which cast themselves into the cracks or hollows of 

high Mountaines, which crackes they stoped very close, so that the Waters could not enter in, having before shut therin many kinds of beasts: that when they perceived the Raine to cease and Waters to fall, the first sent out certaine doggs, which returned cleane-washt and wet, they judged that the waters were not yet much falne; and that afterward sending out some other, which seeing to returne all muddy and foule, they issued forth of the mountaines, to repeople the world againe, which they found replenished onely with Serpents.  There were places found where they used the perswasion of the day of judgement, so that they grew wondrous wroth and offended with the Spaniards, who in digging and searching of riches in their graves, scattered here and there the bones of there deceased friends, saying that those dispersed bones could very hardly be reconjoyned againe.  They also found where they used traffic by exchange, and no otherwise; and had Faires and Markets for that purpose; they found dwarfes, and such other deformed creatures, used for the ornament of Princes tables: they found the use of hawking and fowling according to the nature of their birdes: tyrannical subsidies, and grievances upon subjects; delicate and pleasant gardens; dancing, tumbling, leaping, and lugling, musicke of instruments, armories, dicing-houses, tennisse-courts, and casting lottes, or mumne-chaunce, wherein they are often so earnest and moody, that they will play themselves and their liberty: using no other physicke but by charmes: the manner of writing by figures: beleeving in one first man, universall father of all people. The adoration of one God, who heretofore lived man in perfect Virginitie, fasting, and penance, preaching the law of Nature, and the ceremonies of religion; and who vanished out of the world without any naturall death: The opinion of Giants; the use of drunkennesse, with their manner of drinkes and drinking and pledging of, healths; religious ornaments painted over with bones and dead mens sculs; surplices, holy Water, and holy Water 

sprinckles, Women and servants which thrivingly presnt themselves to be burned or enterred with their deceased husbands or masters: a law that the eldest or first borne child shall succeed and inherit all: where nothing at all is reserved for Punies, but obedience: a custome to the promotion of certaine officers of great authority, and where he that is promoted takes upon him a new name, and quiteth his owne:  Where they used to cast lime upon the knees of new borne children, saying unto him:  From dust then camest, and to dust then shalt returne againe: the Arts of Augures or prediction. These vaine shadowes of our religion, which are seene in some of these examples, witnesse the dignity and divinity thereof.  It hath not onely in some sort insinuated it selfe among all infidell Nations on this side by some imitations, but amongst those barbarous Nations beyond, as it were by a common and supernaturall inspiration:  For amongst them was also found the beliefe of Purgatory, but after a new forme: for, what we ascribe unto fire, they impute unto cold, and imagine that soules are both purged and punished by the vigor of an extreame coldnesse.  This example putteth me in mind of another pleasant diversity:  For, as there were some people found who tooke pleasure to unhood the end of their yard, and to cut off the fore-skinne after the manner of the Mahometans and Jewes, some there were found that made so great a conscience to unhood it, that with little strings they caried their fore-skin very carefully out-streched and fastened above, for feare that end should see the aire.  And of this other diversity also, that as we honour our Kings and celebrate our Holy-daies with decking and trimming our selves with the best habilliments we have; in some regions there, to shew all disparity and submission to their King, their subjects present themselves unto him in their basest and meanest apparrell; and entring unto his pallace they take some old torne garment and put it over their other attire, to the end all the glory and ornament may shine in their Soveraigne and Maister. 

     But let us goe on: if Nature enclose within the limits of her ordinary progresse, as all other things, so the beliefes, the judgments and the opinions of men; if they have their revolutions, their seasons, their birth, and their death, even as cabbages: if heaven doth move, agitate and rowle them at his pleasure, what powerfull and permanent authority doe we ascribe unto them?  If by uncontroled experience we palpably touch, that the forme of our being depends of the aire, of the climate, and of the soile wherein we are borne and not onely the hew, the stature, the complexion and the countenance, but also the soules facilities:  Et plagae coeli non serum ad robor corporum, sed etiam animorum facit: 'The climate helpeth not onely for strength of body, but of minds,' saith Vegetius: And that the Goddesse, foundresse of the Citie of Athens, chose a temperature of a country to situate it in, that might make the men wise, as the AEgyptian Priests taught Solon: Athenis tenue eoclum: ex quo etiam acutiores putantur Attici: crassum Thebis: itague pingues Thebani, et valentes:/1  'About Athens is a thin aire, whereby those Country-men are esteemed the sharper witted: about Thebes the aire is grosse, and therefore the Thebans were grosse and strong of constitution.'  In such manner that as fruits and beasts doe spring up diverse and different; so men are borne either more or lesse warlike, martiall, just, temperate, and docile: here subject to wine, there to theft and whoredome: here inclined to superstition, addicted to misbehaving; here given to liberty; there to servitude; capable of some one art or science; grosse-witted or ingenious: either obedient or rebellious; good or bad, according as the inclination of the place beareth, where they are seated; and being removed from one soile to another (as plants are) they take a new complexion: which was the cause that Cirus would never permit the Persians to leave their barren, rough, and craggie Country, for to transport themselves into another, more gentle, more fertile, and
-----
1 CIC.  De Fato. 

more plaine: saying, that 'fat and delicious countries make men wanton and effeminate+; and fertile soiles yeeld infertile spirits.  If sometime wee see one art to flourish, or a beliefe, and sometimes another, by some heavenly influence: some ages to produce this or that nature, and so to encline mankind to this or that base: mens spirits one while flourishing, another while barren, even as fields are seene to be; what become of all those goodly prerogatives wherewith we still flatter ourselves.  Since a wise man may mistake himselfe; yea, many men, and whole nations; and as wee say, mans nature either in one thing or other, hath for many ages together mistaken her selfe.  What assurance have we that at any time she leaveth her mistaking, and that she continueth not even at this day, in her error? Me thinkes amongst other testimonies of our imbecilities, this one ought not to be forgotten, that by wishing it selfe, man cannot yet finde out what he wanteth; that not by enjoying or possession, but by imagination and full wishing, we cannot all agree in one that we most stand in need of, and would best content us.  Let our imagination have free liberty to cut out and sew at her pleasure, she cannot so much as desire what is fittest to please and content her.

     -----quid enim ratione timemus
Aut cupimus? quid tam dextro pede concipis, ut te
Conatus non paeniteat, votique peracti?/1
By reason what doe we feare, or desire?
With such dexteritie what doest aspire,
But thou eftsoones repentest it,
Though thy attempt and vow doe hit?

Coniugium petimus partumque uxoris, at illis
Notum qui pueri, qualisque futura sit uxor./1

We wish a wife, wifes breeding: we would know,
What children; shall our wife be sheep or shrow.

Attonitus novitate mali, divesque miserque,
Effugere optat opes, et quae modo voverat, odit/2

Wretched and rich, amaz'd at so strange ill,
His riches he would flie, hates his owns will.

tuus ipsa me consolata sunt:/1 'Thy rod and thy staffe hath comforted me.' He doth it by the reasons of his providence, which more certainly considereth and regardeth what is meet for us then we ourselves can doe, and we ought to take it in good part as from a most wise and thrice-friendly hand.

     ----- si consilium vis,
Permittes ipsis expendere numinibus, quid
Conveniat nobis, rebusque sit vtile nostris:
Charior est illis homo quam sibi.2/

If you will counsell have, give the Gods leave
To weigh what is most meet we should receive,
And what for our estate most profit were:
To them, then to himselfe man is more deare.

Tres mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur,
Poscentes vario multit diversa palato.
Ouid dem? quid non dem? renuis tu quod iubet alter:
Quod petis, id sane est invisum acidumque duobus./3

Three guests of mine doe seeme allmost at ods to fall,
Whilest they with divers taste for divers things doe call:
What should I give?  What not?  You will not, what he will;
What you would, to them twaine is hatefull, sowre and ill.

to suffer himselfe to be carried away by appearances, and to this opinion seemeth this other of ancient Pithagoras to incline,

Nil_admirari+, propre res est una,
Numici, Solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum,

Sir, nothing to admire, is th' only thing,
That may keepe happy, and to happy bring,

generally for every man to obey the lawes of his country, as is the advise of Socrates, inspired (saith be) by a divine perswasion.  And what else meaneth she thereby, but only that our devoire or duety hath no other rule but casuall?  Truth ought to have a like and universall visage throughout the world.  Law and justice, if man knew any, that had a body and true essence, he would not fasten it to the condition of this or that countries customes. It is not according to the Persians or Indians fantazie that vertue should take her forme.  Nothing is more subject unto a continuall agitation then the laws.  I have, since I was borne, seene those of our neighbours, the English- men, changed and re-changed three or foure times, not only in politike subjects, which is that some will dispense of constancy, but in the most important subject that possibly can be, that is to say, in religion: whereof I am so much the more ashamed, because it is a nation with which my countriemen have heretofore had so inward and familiar acquaintance, that even to this day there remain in my house some ancient monuments of our former alliance.  Nay, I have seene amongst our selves some things become lawfull which erst were deemed capitall: and we that hold some others, are likewise in possibilitie, according to the uncertainty of warring fortune+, one day or other, to be offenders against the Majestie both of God and man, if our justice chance to fall under the mercy of justice; and in the space of few yeares possession, taking a contrary essence.  How could that ancient God more evidently accuse, in humane knowledge, the ignorance of divine essence, and teach men that their religion was but a peece of their owne invention, fit to combine their societies then in declaring, as he did, to those which sought the instruction of it, by his sacred Tripos, that the true worshipping of God was that which he found to be observed by the custome of the place where he lived?  Oh God, what bond or dutie is it that we owe not to our Soveragne Creators benignitie, in that he hath beene pleased to cleare and enfranchise our beliefe from 

those vagabonding and arbitrary devotions, and fixt it upon the eternall base of his holy word?  What will Philosophie then say to us in this necessity? that we follow the lawes of our country, that is to say, this waveing sea of a peoples or of a Princes opinions, which shall paint me forth justice with as many c6oours, and reforme the same into as many visages as there are changes and alterations of passions in them.  I cannot have my judgement so flexible.  What goodnesse is that which but yesterday I saw in credit and esteeme, and to morrow to have lost all reputation, and that the crossing of a river is made a crime?  What truth is that which these Mountaines bound, and is a lie in the world beyond them?  But they are pleasant, when to allow the lawes some certaintie, they say that there be some firme, perpetuall and immoveable; which they call naturall, and by the condition of their proper essence, are imprinted in mankind: of which some make three in number, some foure, some more, some lesse: an evident token that it is a marke as doubtfull as the rest.  Now are they so unfortunate (for how can I terme that but misfortune, that of so infinit a number of lawes there is not so much as one to be found which the fortune or temeritie of chance hath graunted to be universally received, and by the consent of unanimitie of all Nations to be admitted?) they are (I say) so miserable that of these three or four choice-selected lawes there is not one alone that is not impugned or disallowed, not by one nation, but by many.  Now is the generalitie of approbation the onely likely ensigne by which they may argue some lawes to be naturall; for what nature had indeed ordained us, that should we doubtlesse follow with one common consent; and not one onely nation, but every man in particular should have a feeling of the force and violece which he should urge him with, that would incite him to contrarie and resist that law.  Let them all (for example sake) shew me but one of this condition. Protagoras and Ariston gave the justice of the lawes no other essence, but the authority and opinion of the law giver, and that excepted, both good 

and honest lost their qualities, and remained but vaine and idle names of indifferent things.  Thrasymachus, in Plato, thinkes there is no other right but the commoditie of the superior.  There is nothing wherein the world differeth so much as in customes and lawes.  Some things are here accompted abominable, which in another place are esteemed commendable; as in Lacedemonia, the slight and subtlety in stealing marriages in proximity of blood are amongst us forbidden as capitall, elsewhere they are allowed and esteemed

     -----gentes esse feruntur,
In quibus et nato genitrix, et nata parenti
Iungitur, et pietas geminato crescit amore./1

There are some people where the another weddeth Her sonne the daughter her owne father beddeth, And so by doubling love, their kinduesse spreddeth.

that meane to give their fathers the worthiest and most honourable sepulchre, harboring their fathers bodies and reliques in themselves, and in their marrow; in some sort reviving and regenerating them by the transmutation made in their quicke flesh by digestion and nourishment.  It is easie to be considered what abomination and cruelty it had beene, in men accustomed and trained in this inhumane superstition, to cast the carcases of their parents into the corruption of the earth, as food for beasts and wormes. Lycurgus wisely considereth in theft, the vivacitie, dilignce, courage, and nimblenesse that is required in surprising or taking any thing from ones neighbour, and the commoditie which thereby redoundeth to the common- wealth, that every man heedeth more curiously the keeping of that which is his owne, and judged that by this twofold institution to assaile and to defend, much good was drawne for military discipline (which was the principall Science and chiefe verue wherein he would enable that nation) of greater respect and more consideration than was the disorder and injustice of prevailing and taking other mens goods.  Dionysius, the tyrant offered Plato a robe made after the Persian fashion, long, damask, and perfumed: but he refused the same, saying, 'That being borne a man, he would not willingly put on a womans garment.  But Aristippus tooke it, with this answer, 'That no garment could corrupt a chaste mind.  His friends reproved his demissenesse in being so little offended, that Dionysius had spitten in his face. 'Tut (said be) fishers suffer themselves to be washed over head and eares to get a gudgion.  Diogenes washing of coleworts for his dinner, seeing him passe by, said unto him, 'If thou couldest live with coleworts, thou wouldest not court and fawne upon a tyrant;' to whom Aristippus replied, 'If thou couldest live among men, thou wouldest not wash coleworts.  See here how reason yeeldeth apparance to divers effects.  It is a pitcher with two eares, which a man may take hold on, either by the right or left hand. 

     ----- bellunt o terra hospita portas,
Bello armantur equi, bellum haec armenta minantur:  Sed tamen iidem olim curru succedere sueti
Quadrupedes, et froena jugo concordia ferre,
Spes est pacis./1

O stranger-harbring land, thou bringst us warre;
Steeds serve for war;
These heards doe threaten jarre.
Yet horses erst were wont to draw our waines,
And harnest matches beare agreeing raines,
Hope is hereby that wee
In peace shall well agree.

Inde furor vulgi, quodnumina vicinorum
Odit quisque locus, cum solos credat habendos
Esse Deos quos ipse colit./2

The vulgar hereupon doth rage, because
Each place doth hate their neighbours soveraigne lawes,
And onely Gods doth deeme,
Those Gods, themselves esteeme.

favour which party he should thinke good.  There was no want but of spirit and sufficiency, if he set not every where through his books, 'A question for a friend.  The Advocates and Judges of our time find in all cases byases too-too-many to fit them where they think good.  To so infinite a science, depending on the authority of so many opinions, and of so arbitrary a subject, it cannot be but that an exceeding confusion of judgements must arise. There are very few processes so cleare but the Lawiers advises upon them will be found to differ:  What one company hath judged another will adjudge the contrary, and the very same will another time change opinion.  Whereof we see ordinarie examples by this licence which wonderfully blemisheth the authoritie and lustre of our law, never to stay upon one sentence, but to run from one to another judge, to decide one same case.  Touching the libertie of Philosophicall opinions concerning vice and vertue, it is a thing needing no great extension, and wherein are found many advises which were better unspoken then published to weake capacities.  Arcesilaus was wont to say that in pailliardize it was not worthy consideration, where, on what side, and how it was done.  Et obcaenas voluptates, si natura requirit, non genera, aut loco, aut ordine, sed forma, aetate, figura metiendas Epicurus putat.  Ne amores quidem sanctos a sapiente atienos esse arbitrantur.  Quaeramus ad quam usque, aetatem iuvenes amandi sint: 'Obscene pleasures, if nature require them, the Epicure esteemeth not to be measured by kind, place, or order: but by forme, age, and fashion.  Nor doth he thinke that holy loves should be strange from a wise man.  Let us then question to what years yong folke may be beloved.  These two last Stoicke places, and upon this purpose, the reproch of Diogarchus to Plato himselfe, shew how many excessive licences and out of common use soundest Philosophy doth tolerate.  Lawes take their authoritie from possession and custome.  It is dangerous to reduce them to their beginning:  In rowling on they swell and grow greater and greater, as doe 

our rivers: follow them upward into their source, and you shall find them but a bubble of water, scarce to be discerned, which in gliding on swelleth so proud and gathers so much strength.  Behold the ancient considerations which have given the first motion to this famous torrent, so full of dignitie, of honour and reverence, you shall finde them so light and weake that these men which will weigh all and complaine of reason, and who receive nothing upon trust and authoritie, it is no wonder if their judgments are often far distant from common judgement.  Men that take Natures first image for a patterne it is no marvaile if in most of their opinions they miss the common- beaten path.  As for example few amongst them would have approved the false conditions of our marriages, and most of them would have had women in community and without any private respect.  They refused our ceremonies: Chrysippus said that some Philosophers would in open view of all men shew a dozen of tumbling-tricks, yea, without any slops or breeches, for a dozen of olives.  He would hardly have perswaded Calisthenes to refuse his faire daughter Agarista to Hippoclides, because he had seen him graft the forked tree in her upon a table.  Metrocles somewhat indiscreetly, as he was disputing in his Schole, in presence of his auditory, let a fart, for shame whereof he afterwards kept his house and could not be drawen abroad untill such time as Crates went to visit him, who to his perswasions and reasons, adding the example of his liberty, began to fart a vie with him and to remove this scruple from off his conscience; and moreover won him to his Stoicall (the more free) Sect, from the Peripateticall (and more civill) one, which the-therunto he had followed.  That which we call civilitie not to dare to doe that openly, which amongst us is both awfull and honest, being done in secret, they termed folly:  And to play the wilie Foxe in concealing and disclaiming what nature, custome, and our desire publish and proclaims of our actions, they deemed to be a vice.  And thought it a suppressing

of Venus her mysteries to remove them from out the private vestry of her temple, and expose them to the open view of the people.  And that to draw her sports from out the curtaines was to loose them.  Shame is matter of some consequence.  Concealing, reservation and circumspection are parts of estimation.  That sensuality under the maske of Vertu did very ingeniously procure not to be prostituted in the midst of highwaies, not trodden upon and seen by the common sort, alledging the dignity and commodity of her wonted Cabinets.  Whereupon some say that to forbid and remove the common brothel-houses is not only to spread whoredome every where, which only was allotted to those places, but also to incite idle and vagabond men to that vice by reason of the difficultie.

Maechus es Aufidiae qui vir Corvine fuisti,
Rivalis fuerat qui tuus, ille vir est.
Cur aliena placet tibi, qua, tua non placet uxor?
Nunquid securas non potes arrigere?/1

Nullus in vrbe fuit tota, qui tangere vellet
Uxorem gratis Caeciliane tuam,
Dum licuit: sed nunc positis custodibus, inqens
Turba fututorum est, ingeniosus homo es:./2

A Philosopher being taken with the deed, was demaunded what he did, answered very mildly, 'I plant man,' blushing no more being found so napping than if he had beene taken setting of Garlike.  It is (as I suppose) of a tender and respective opinion that a notable and religious Author holds this action so necessarily-bound to secrecy and shame, that in Cynike embracements and dalliances he coulidnot be perswaded that the worke should come to her end; but rather that it lingred and staid only to represent wanton gestures and lascivious motions, to maintaine the impudency of their schooles profession: and that to powre forth what shame had forced and bashfullnesse ---- - 1 MART. 1. iii.  Epig. lxx. 2 Ib. 1. i.  Epig. lxxiv.

restrained, they had also afterward need to seeke some secret place. He had not seene far enough into their licenciousnesse: for Diogenes in sight of all, exercising his Masturbation, bred a longing desire in the bystanders, that in such sort they might fill their bellies by rubbing or clawing the same.  To those that asked him why he sought for no fitter place to feed in than in the open frequented highway he made answer, 'It is because I am hungry in the open frequented high-way.  The Philosophers Women, which medled with their Sects, did likewise in all places and without any discretion medle with their bodies:  And Crates had never received Hipparchia into his fellowship but upon condition io follow all the customes and fashions of his order.  These Philosophers set an extreme rate on vertue and rejected al other disciplins except the mortall; hence it is that in all actions they ascribed the Soveraigne authority to the election of their wise, yea, and above all lawes: and appointed no other restraint unto voluptuousness, but the moderation and preservation of others liberty.  Heraclitus and Protagoras, forsomuch as wine seemeth bitter unto the sicke and pleasing to the healthy; and an oare crooked in the water and straight to them that see it above water, and such-like contrary apparances which are found in some subjects; argued that all subjects had the causes of these apparances in them, and that there was some kind of bitternes in the wine which had a reference unto the sick mans taste; in the oare a certain crooked qualitie, having relation to him that seeth it in the water.  And so of all things else. Which implieth, that all is in all things, and by consequence nothing in any: for either nothing is, or all is.  This opinion put me in mind of the experience we have, that there is not any one sense or visage, either straight or crooked, bitter or sweet, but mans wit shall find in the writings which he undertaketh to runne over.  In the purest, most unspotted, and most absolutely perfect word that possibly can be, how many errors, falshoods and lies 

have beene made to proceed from it?  What heresie hath not found testimonies and ground sufficient, both to undertake and to maintaine itself?  It is, therefore, that the Authors of such errors will never goe from this proofe of the testimony of words interpretation.  A man of worth going about by authority to approve the search of the Philosophers stone (wherein he was overwhelmed) alleadged at least five or six several passages out of the holy bible unto me, upon which (he said) he had at first gounded himselfe for the discharge of his conscience (for he is a man of Ecclesiastical profession), and truly the invention of them was not only pleasant, but also very fitly applied to the defence of this goodly and mind-enchanting science.  This way is the credit of divining fables attained to.  There is no prognosticator if he have but this authority that any one wil but vouchsafe to read him over, and curiously to search all the infoldings and lustres of his words, but a man shall make him say what he pleaseth, as the Sibils. There are so many means of interpretation that it is hard, be it flat-long, side-long, or edge-long, but an ingenious and pregnant wit shal in all subjects meet with some aire that wil fit his turn.  Therefore is a clowdy, darke and ambiguous stile found in so frequent and ancient custome, that the Author may gaine to draw, allure, and busie posterity to himselfe, which not only the sufficiency but the casuall favour of the matter may gaine as much or more.  As for other matters let him, be it either through foolishnes or subtilty, shew himself somewhat obscure and divers, it is no matter, care not he for that.  A number of spirits sifting and tossing him over will finde and express sundry formes, either accordinfg, or collaterally, or contrary to his owne, all which shall do him credit.  He shal see himselfe enriched by the meanes of his Disciples, as the Grammer Schools Maisters. It is that which hath made many things of nothing, to pass very currant, that hath brought divers books in credit, and charged with all sorts of matter that any hath but desired: one selfsame thing admitting 

a thousand and a thousand, and as many severall images and divers considerations, as it best pleaseth us.  Is it possible that ever Homer meant all that which some make him to have meant?  And that he prostrated hiniselfe to so many, and so severall shapes, as, Divines, Lawiers, Captaines, Philosophers, and all sort of people else, which, how diversely and contrary soever it be they treat of sciences, do notwithstanding wholy rely, upon him, and refer themselves unto him as a Generall Maister for all offices, workes, sciences, and tradesmen, and an universall counsellor in all enterprises; whosoever hath had need of Oracles or Predictions, and would apply them to himselfe, hath found them in him for his purpose.  A notable man, and a good friend of mine, would make one marvel to beare what strange far-fetcht conceits and admirable affinities, in favor of our religion, he maketh to derive from him; and can hardly be drawne from this opinion, but that such was Homers intent and meaning (yet is Homer so familiar unto him, as I thinke no man of our age is better acquainted with him).  And what he finds in favour of our religion, many ancient learned men have found in favour of theirs.  See how Plato is tossed and turned over, every man endevoring to apply him to his purpose, giveth him what construction he list.  He is wrested and inserted to all newfangled opinions that the world receiveth or alloweth of, and according to the different course of subjects is made to be repugnant unto himselfe.  Every one according to his sense makes him to disavow the customes that were lawfull in his daies, inasmuch as they are unlawfull in these times.  All which is very lively and strongly maintained, according as the wit and learning of the interpreter is strong and quicke.  Upon the ground which Heraclitus had, and that sentence of his, that all things had those shapes in them which men found in them. And Democritus out of the very same drew a cleane contrarie conclusion, id est, that subjects had nothing at all in them of that which we found in them.  And forasmuch as honny was sweet to one man and bitter to another, 

he argued that honny was neither sweet nor bitter.  The Pyrrhonians would say they know not whether it be sweet or bitter, or both or neither: for, they ever gain the highest point of doubting.  The Cyrenaicks held that nothing was perceptible outwardly, and only that was perceivable which by the inward touch or feeling touched or concerned us, as griefe and sensuality, distinguishing neither tune nor collours, but onely certaine affections that came to us of them; and that man had no other seate of his judgment. Protagoras deemed that to be true to all men, which to all men seemeth so.  The Epicurians place all judgment in the senses, and in the notice of things, and in voluptuousnesse.  Platoes mind was, that the judgment of truth, and truth it selfe drawne from opinions and senses, belonged to the spirit and to cogitation.  This discourse hath drawne me to the consideration of the senses, wherein consisteth the greatest foundation and triall of our ignorance.  Whatsoever is knowne, is without peradventure knowne by the faculty of the knower: for, since the judgment commeth from the operation of him that judgeth, reason requireth that he performe and act this operation by his meanes and will, and not by others compulsion: as it would follow if wee knew things by the force, and according to the law of their essence. Now all knowledge is addressed unto us by the senses: they are our maisters:

     -----via qua munita fidei
Proxima fert humanum in pectus, templaque mentis./1

Whereby a way for credit leads well-linde
Into man's breast and temple of his minde.

else but what is knowne by the senses.  Whosoever can force me to contradict my senses, hath me fast by the throate, and cannot make me recoyle one foote backward.  The senses are the beginning and end of humane knowledge.

Invenies primis ab sensibus esse creatam
Notitiam veri, neque sensus posse refelli.
Quid maiore fide porro, guam sensus, haberi
Debet/1

You shall finde knowledge of the truth at first was bred
From our first senses, nor can senses be misseled.  What, then our senses, should
With us more credit hold?

extreme bounds of our perceiving.  There is nothing beyond them that may stead us to discover them:  No one sense can discover another.

An poterunt oculos aures reprehendere, an aures
Tactus, an hunc porro tactum sapor arguet oris,
An confutabunt nares, oculive revincent?/1

Can eares the eyes, or can touch reprehend
The cares, or shall mouthes taste that touch amend?
Shall our nose it confute,
Or eyes gainst it dispute?

      ------seorsum cuique potestas
Divisa est, sua vis cuique est./2

To teach distinctly might
Is shar'de, each hath its right.

peculiar to himselfe.  A child being brought before him to whom he was god-father, taking him in his armes, he said, 'Good Lord, what a fine child this is! it is a goodly thing to see him.  What a cherefull countenance he hath! how prettily he looketh!' He will say as one of us, 'This hall hath a faire prospect.  It is very faire weather, The Sunne shines cleare. Nay, which is more: because hunting, hawking, tennis-play, and shuting at buts are our common sports and exercises (for so he hath heard) his mind will be so affected unto them, and he wil so busie himselfe about them, that he will thinke to have as great an interest in them as any of us, and shew himselfe as earnestly passionate, both in liking and disliking them, as any else; yet doth be conceive and receive them but by hearing. If he be in a faire champion ground, where he may ride, they will tell him, yonder is a Hare started, or the Hare is killed, he is as busily earnest of his game as he heareth others to be that have perfect sight.  Give him a ball, he takes it in the left hand, and with the right strikes it away with his racket; in a piece he shutes at randome; and is well pleased with what his men tell him, be it high or wide.  Who knowes whether mankind commit as great a folly, for want of some sense, and that by this default the greater part of the visage of things be concealed from us?  Who knowes whether the difficulties we find in sundry of Natures workes proceede thence?  And whether diverse effects of beasts, which exceed our capacitie, are produced by the facultie of some sense that we want?  And whether some of them have by that meane a fuller and more perfect life then ours?  We seize on an apple wel nigh with all our senses; we find rednesse, smoothnesse, odor and sweetnesse in it; besides which, it may have other vertues, either drying or binding, to which we have no sense to be referred.  The proprieties which in many things we call secret, as in the Adamant to draw iron, is it not likely there should be sensitive faculties in nature able to judge and perceive them, the want whereof breedeth in us the ignorance of the true 

essence of such things?  It is happily some particular sense that unto cockes or chanticleares discovereth the morning and midnight houre, and moveth them to crow: that teacheth a hen, before any use or experience, to feare a hawke and not a goose or a peacocke, farre greater birds: that warneth yong chickins of the hostile qualitie which the cat hath against them, and not to distrust a dog; to strut and arme themselves against the mewing of the one (in some sort a flattering and milde voice) and not against the barking of the other (a snarling and quarrelous voice): that instructeth rats, wasps, and emmets, ever to chuse the best cheese and fruit, having never tasted them before: and that addresseth the stag, the elephant, and the serpent, to the knowledge of certaine herbs and simples, which, being either wounded or sicke, have the vertue to cure them.  There is no sense but hath some great domination, and which by his meane affordeth not an infinite number of knowledges.  If we were to report the intelligence of sounds, of harmony and of the voice, it would bring an imaginable confusion to all the rest of our learning and science.  For, besides what is tyed to the proper effect of every sense, how many arguments, consequences, and conclusions draw we unto other things, by comparing one sense to another? Let a skilfull, wise man but imagine humane nature to be originally produced without sight and discourse, how much ignorance and trouble such a defect would bring unto him, and what obscurity and blindnesse in our mind.  By that shall we perceive how much the privation of one, or two, or three such senses (if there be any in us) doth import us about the knowledge of truth.  We have by the consultation and concurrence of our five senses formed one Verity, whereas peradventure there was required the accord and consent of eight or ten senses, and their contribution, to attaine a perspicuous insight of her, and see her in her true essence.  Those Sects which combate mans science, doe principally combate the same by the uncertainty and feeblenesse of our senses.  For, since by their 

meane and intermission all knowledge comes unto us, if they chance to misse in the report they make unto us, if either they corrupt or alter that, which from abroad they bring unto us, if the light which by them is transported into our soule be obscured in the passage, we have nothing else to hold by.  From this extreme difficultie are sprung all these phantazies, which everie subject containeth, whatsoever we finde in it, that it hath not what we suppose to finde in it, and that of the Epicurians, which is; that the sunne is no greater than our sight doth judge it:

Quicquid id est, nihilo fertur maiore figura,
Quam nostris oculis quam cernimus esse videtur:/1

Whate'er it be, it in no greater forme doth passe,
Then to our eyes, which it behold, it seeming was:

Nec tamen hic oculis falli concedimzus hilum:  Proinde animi vitium hoc oculis adfingere noli:/2

Yet graunt we not, in this, our eyes deceiv'd or blind, Impute not then to eyes this error of the mind:

Proinde quod in quoque est his visum tempore, verum est:  Et si non potuit ratio dissolvere causam,
Cur ed quae fuerint iuxtim quadrata, procul sint

Viarotunda: tamen praestat rationis egentem
Reddere mendose causas vtriusque figurae,
Quam manibus manifesta suis emittere quoquam,
Et violare fidem primam, et convellere tota
Fundamenta, quibus nixatur vita salusque.
Non modo enim ratio ruat omnis, vita quoque ipsa
Concidat extemplo, nisi credere sensibus ausis, Praecipitesque locos vitare, et caetera quae sint
In genere hoc fugienda./1

What by the eyes is seene at any time, is true,
Though the cause treason could not render of the view,
Why, what was square at hand, a farre off seemed round,
Yet it much better were, that wanting reasons ground
The causes of both formes we harp-on, but not hit,
Then let slip from our hands things cleare, and them omit,
And violate our first beliefe, and rashly rend
All those grounorkes, whereon both life and health depend,
For not alone all reason falls, life likewise must
Faile out of hand, unlesse your senses you dare trust,
And breake-neeke places, and all other errours shunne,
From which we in this kinde most carefully should runne.

the error and uncertaintie of the senses operation, a man may store himselfe with as many examples as he pleaseth, so ordinary are the faults and deceits they use towards us.  And the echoing or reporting of a valleys the sound of a trumpet seemeth to sound before us, which cometh a mile behind us.

Exstantesque procul medio de gargite montes
Idem apparent longe diversi licet./1

Et fugere ad puppim colles campique videntur
Quos agimus prater navim./2

      ------ubit in medio nobis equus acer abhaesit
Flumine, equi corpus transversum ferre videtur
Vis, et in adversum flumen contrudere raptim./3

And hills, which from the maine far-off to kenning stand,
Appeare all one, though they farre distant be, at hand,
And hilles and fields doe seeme unto our boate to flie,
Which we drive by our boate as we doe passe thereby,
When in midst of a streame a stately Horse doth stay,
The streame's orethwarting seemes his body crosse to sway,
And swiftly 'gainst the streame to thrust him th' other way.

the sweetnesse and harmony of musicke will move and tickle; nor any soule so skittish and stubborne, that hath not a feeling of some reverence in considering the clowdy vastitie and gloomie canapies of our churches, the eye-pleasing diversitie of ornaments, and orderly order of our ceremonies, and hearing the devout and religious sound of our organs, the moderate, symphonicall, and heavenly harmonie of our voices: even those that enter into them with an obstinate will and contemning minde have in their hearts a feeling of remorse, of chilnesse and horrour, that puts them into a certaine diffidence of their former opinions.  As for me, I distrust mine owne strength to heare with a settled minde some of Horace or Catullus verses sung with a sufficiently well tuned voice, uttered by and proceeding from a faire, yong, and hart-alluring mouth.  And Zeno had reason to say that the voice was the flower of beautie.  Some have gone about to make me beleeve that a man, who most of us French men know, in repeating of certaine verses he had maide, had imposed upon me that they were not such in writing as in the aire, and that mine eyes would judge of them otherwise than mine eares: so much credit hath pronounciation to give price and fashion to those workes that passe at her mercy; whereupon Philoxenus was not to be blamed, when hearing one to give an ill accent to some composition of his, he tooke in a rage some of his pots or bricks, and breaking them, trode and trampled them under his feet, saying unto him, 'I breake and trample what is thine, even as thou manglest and marrest what is mine.  Wherefore did they (who with an undanted resolve have procured their owne death, because they would not see the blow or stroke comming) turne their face away?  And those who for their health's sake cause themselves to be cut and cauterized, why cannot they endure the sight of the preparations, tooles, instruments and workes of the Chirurgion, since the sight can have no part of the paine or smart?  Are not these fit examples to verifie the authoritie which senses have over discourse?  We may long enough 

know that such a ones lockes or flaring tresses are borrowed of a page or taken from some lacky, that this faire ruby-red came from Spaine, and this whitenes or smoothnes from the ocean sea: yet must sight force us to find and deeme the subject more lovely and more pleasing against all reason.  For in that there is nothing of its owne.

Auferimur cultu: gemnis, auroque teguntur
Crimina, pars minima est ipsa puelia sui.
Saepe ubi sit quod ames inter tam multa requiras
Decepit hac oculos AEgide dives amor./1

We are misse-led by ornaments: what is amisse
Gold and gemmes cover, least part of her selfe the maiden is,
'Mongst things so many you may aske, where your love lies,
Rich love by this Gorgonian shield deceives thine eye.

Cunctaque miratur, quibus est mirabilis ipsa,
Se cupit imprudens, et qui probat, ipse probatur,
Dumque petit petitur: pariterque accendit et ardit./2

He all admires, whereby himselfe is is admirable,
Fond he, fond of himseife, to himselfe amiable,
He that doth like, is lik'd, and while he doth desire:
He is desired, at once he burnes and sets on fire.

Osculadat, reddique putat, sequiturque, tenetque
Et credit tactis digitos insidere membris,
Et metuit pressos veniat ne livor in artus./3

He kisses, and thinks kisses come againe,
He sues, pursues, and holds, beleeves in vaine
His fingers sinke where he doth touch the place,
And feares least black and blew toucht-lims deface.

     Let a Philosopher be put in a cage made of small and thin- set iron wire, and hanged on the top of our Ladies Church steeple in Paris; he shall, by evident reason, perceive that it is impossible he should fall down out of it: yet can he not choose (except he have beene brought up to the trade of tilers or thatchers) but the sight of that exceeding height must needs dazle his sight, and amaze or turne his senses.  For we have much ado to warrant our selves in the walks or battlements of a high tower or steeple, if they be hattlemented and wrought with pillars, and somewhat wide one from another, although of stone and never so strong. Nay, some there are that call scarcely think or heare of such heights. Let a beame or planke be laid acrosse from one of those two steeples to the other, as big, as thick, as strong, and as broad as would suffice any man to walke safely upon it, there is no philosophicall wisdome of so great resolution and constancie that is able to encourage and perswade us to march upon it, as we would were it below on the ground.  I have sometimes made triall of it upon our mountaines on this side of Italie, yet am I one of those that will not easily be affrighted with such things, and I could not without horror to my minde and trembling of legs and thighes endure to looke on those infinite precipices and steepy downe-fals, though I were not neere the brim, nor any danger within my length and more; and unlesse I had willingly gone to the perill, I could not possibly have falne. Where I also noted that how deep soever the bottome were, if but a tree, a shrub, or any out-butting crag of a rock presented it selfe unto our eyes upon those steepe and high Alpes, somewhat to uphold the sight; and divide the same, it doth somewhat ease and assure us from feare, as if it were a thing which in our fall might either helpe or upheld us: and that we cannot without some dread and giddinesse in the head so much as abide to looke upon one of those even and downe- right precipices:  Vt despici sine vertigine simul oculorum animique non possit: 'So as they cannot looke downe without giddinesse both of 

eyes and mindes: which is an evident deception of the sight.  Therefore was it that a worthy Philosopher pulled out his eyes that so he might discharge his soule of the seducing and diverting he received by them, and the better and more freely apply himselfe unto Philosophy.  But by this accompt, he should also have stopped his eares, which (as Theopbrastus said) are the most dangerous instruments we have to receive violent and sodaine impressions to trouble and alter us, and should in the end have deprived himself of all his other senses; that is to say, both of his being and life.  For they have the power to command our discourses and sway our minde: Fit etiam saepe specie quadam, saepe vocum gravitate et cantibus, vt pellantur animi vehementius: saepe etiam cura et timore:/1 'It comes to passe that many times our mindes are much moved with some shadow, many times with deep sounding or singing of voices, many times with care and feare.' Physitians hold that there are certain complexions which by some sounds and instruments are agitated even unto furie.  I have seene some who, without infringing their patience, could not well heare a bone gnawne under their table: and we see few men but are much troubled at that sharpe, harsh, and teeth-edging noise that smiths make in filing of brasse, or scraping of iron and steele together: others will be offended if they but heare one chew his meat somewhat aloud; nay, some will be angrie with or hate a man that either speaks in the nose or rattles in the throat.  That piping prompter of Gracchus, who mollified, raised, and wound his masters voice whilst be was making orations at Rome; what good did he if the motion and qualitie of the sound had not the force to move and efficacy to alter the auditories judgement:  Verily there is great cause to make so much ado, and keepe such a coyle about the constancie and firmnesse of this goodly piece, which suffers it selfe to be handled, changed, and turned by the motion and accident of so light a winde.  The very same cheating and cozening that senses bring to our
-----
1 CIC.  Div. 1. i. 

understanding, themselves receive it in their turnes.  Our mind doth likewise take revenge of it, they lie, they cog, and deceive one another a vie.  What we see and heare, being passionately transported by anger, we neither see nor heare it as it is.

Et solem geminum, et duplices se ostendere Thebas./1

That two Sunnes doe appeare,
And double Thebes are there.

Multimodis igitur pravos turpesque videmus
Esse in delitiis, summoque in honore vigere:/2

We therefore see that those, who many waies are bad,
And fowle, are yet belov'd, and in chiefe honour had;

      ------in rebus quoque apertis noscere possis,
Si non advertas animum, proinde esse, quasi omni
Tempore semotae fuerint, longeque remotae./3

Ev'n in things manifest it may be seene,
If you marke not, they are, as they had beene
At all times sever'd farre, remooved cleane.

great a difference as there is betweene a dark night and a cleare day: yea as betweene a night and a shadow: there it sleepeth, here it slumbreth: more or lesse they are ever darknesses, yea Cimmerian darknesses.  We wake sleeping, and sleep waking.  In my sleep I see not so cleare; yet can I never find my waking cleare enough, or without dimnesse.  Sleepe also, in his deepest rest, doth sometimes bring dreames asleepe: but our waking is never so vigilant as it may clearely purge and dissipate the ravings or idle phantasies which are the dreames of the waking, and worse then dreames.  Our reason and soule, receiving the phantasies and opinions, which sleeping seize on them, and authorising our dreames actions, with like approbation, as it doth the daies, why make we not a doubt whether our thinking and our working be another dreaming, and our waking some kind of sleeping?  If the senses be our first judges, it is not ours that must only be called to counsell: for, in this facultie, beasts have as much (or more) right as we.  It is most certaine that some have their hearing more sharpe than man; others their sight; others their smelling; others their feeling, or taste.  Democritus said that Gods and beasts had the sensitive faculties much more perfect than man.  Now, betweene the effects of their senses and ours the difference is extreame.  Our spettle cleanseth and drieth our sores, and killeth serpents.

Tantaque in his rebus distantia differitasque est,
Ut quod alus cibus est, aliis fuat acre venenum.
Saepe etenim serpens, hominis contacta saliva,
Disperit, ac sese mandendo conficit ipsa./1

There is such distance, and such difference in these things,
As what to one is meate, t'another poison brings. {EBWhite+}
For oft a Serpent toucht with spettle of a man
Doth die, and gnaw it selfe with fretting all he can.

seeke for?  Pliny saith that there are certaine seahares in India that to us are poison, and we bane to them; so that we die if we but touch them; now whether is man or the sea-hare poison?  Whom shall we beleeve, either the fish of man or the man of fish?  Some quality of the ayre infecteth man which nothing at all hurteth the one: some other the oxe, and not man: which of the two is, either in truth or nature, the pestilent quality? Such as are troubled with the yellow jandise deeme all things tey looks upon to be yellowish, which seeme more pale and wan to them then to us.

Lurida praeterea fiunt quaecunque tuentur
Arquati./1

And all that jaundis'd men behold,
They yellow straight or palish hold.

Bina lucernarum florentia lumina flammis
Et duplices hominum facies, et corpora bina./1

The lights of candles double flaming then;
And faces twaine, and bodies twaine of men

Et vulgo faciunt id lutea russague vela,
Et ferruginea, cum magnis intenta theatris
Per malos volgata trabesque trementia pendent,:
Namque ibi consessum caveat subter, et omnem
Scenai speciem, patrum matrumque deorumque
Inficiunt coguntque suo fluitare colore./2

And yellow, russet, rustic curtained worke this feate
In common sights abroade, where over skaffold's great
Stretched on masts, spred over beames, they hang still waving.
All the seates circuit there, and all the stages braving,
Of fathers, mothers, Gods, and all the circle showe
They double-dye and in their colours make to flowe.

and tasteth otherwise, by natures ordinary rule, then a man of thirtie yeares; and he otherwise then another of threescore.  The senses are to some more obscure and dimme, and to some more open and quicke.  We receive things differently, according as they are and seeme unto us.  Things being then so uncertaine and full of controversie, it is no longer a wonder if it be told us that we may avouch snow to seeme white unto us; but to affirme that it's such in essence and in truth, we cannot warrant ourselves: which foundation being so shaken, all the science in the world must necessarily goe to wracke.  What, doe our senses themselves hinder one another?  To the sight a picture seemeth to be raised aloft, and in the handling flat: shall we say that muske is so pleasing or no, which comforteth our smelling and offendeth our taste?  There are hearbs and ointments which to some parts of the body are good, and to other some hurtfull.  Honie is pleasing to the taste, but unpleasing to the sight.  Those jewefl wrought and fashioned like feathers or sprigs, which in impreses are called feathers without ends, no eye can discerne the bredth of them, and no man warrant himselfe from this deception, that on the one end or side it groweth not broder and broder, sharper and sharper, and on the other more and more narrow, especially being rouled about ones finger, when notwithstanding in handling it seemeth equal in bredth, and every where alike.  Those who to encrease and aide their luxury were anciently wont to use perspective or looking glasses, fit to make the object they represented appeare very big and great, that so the members they were to use might, by that ocular increase, please them the more: to whether of the two senses yeelded they, either to the sight presenting those members as big and great as they wisht them, or to the feeling that presented them little and to be disdained?  Is it our senses that lend these diverse conditions unto subjects, when for all that the subjects have but one? as we see in the Bread we eat: it is but Bread, but one using it, it maketh bones, blood, flesh, haire, and nailes thereof: 

Ut cibus in membra atque artus cum diditur omnes
Disperit, atque aliam naturam sufficit ex se./1

As meate distributed into the members, dies,
Another nature yet it perishing supplies.

Denique ut in fabrica, si prava est regula prima,
Normaque si fallax rectis regionibus exit,
Et libella aliqua si ex parte claudicat hilum,
Omnia mendose fieri, atque obstipa necessum EST,

Prava, cubantia, prona, supina, atque absona tecta,
Iam ruere ut quaedam videantur velle, ruantque Prodita judiciis fallacibus
omnia primis.
Hic igitur ratio tibi rerum prava necesse est,
Falsaque sit falsis quaecunque a sensibus orta est./1

As in building if the first rule be to blame,
And the deceitful squire erre from right forms and frame,
If any instrument want any jot of weight,
All must needs faultie be, and stooping in their height,
The building naught, absurd, upward and downeward bended,
As if they meant to fall, and fall, as they intended;
And all this as betrayde
By judgements formost laid.
Of things the reason therefore needs must faultie bee
And false, which from false senses drawes its pedigree.

passions: and so, nor the phantasie, nor the apparence is the subject's, but rathier the passion's only, and sufferance of the sense: which passion and subject are divers things:  Therefore, who judgeth by apparences, judgeth by a thing different from the subject.  And to say that the senses' passions referre the qualitie of strange subjects by resemblance unto the soule: How can the soule and the understanding rest assured of that resemblance, having of it selfe no commerce with forraigne subjects?  Even as he that knowes not Socrates, seeing his picture, cannot say that it resembleth him.  And would a man judge by apparences, be it by all it is impossible; for by their contraries and differences they hinder one another, as we see by experience.  May it be that some choice apparences rule and direct the others?  This choice must be verified by another choice, the second by a third: and so shal we never make an end.  In few, there is no constant existence, neither of our being, nor of the objects.  And we and our judgement and all mortall things else do uncessantly rowle, turns and passe away. Thus can nothing be certainely established, nor of the one nor of the other; both the judgeing and the judged being in continuall alteration and motion. We have no communication with being; for every humane nature is ever in the middle betweene being borne and dying; giving nothing of it selfe but an obscure apparence and shadow, and an uncertaine and weake opinion.  And if perhaps you fix your thought to take its being, it would be even as if one should go about to graspe the water: for, how much the more he shal close and presse that which by its owne nature is ever gliding, so much the more he shall loose what he would hold and fasten.  Thus, seeing all things are subject to passe from one change to another, reason, which therein seeketh a reall subsistence, findes her selfe deceived as unable to apprehend any thing subsistent and permanent: forsomuch as each thing either commeth to a being, and is not yet altogether: or beginneth to dy before it be borne.  Plato said that bodies had 

never an existence but indeed a birth, supposing that Homer made the Ocean Father, and Thetis Mother of the Gods, thereby to shew us that all things are in continuall motion, change and variation.  As he sayeth, a common opinion amongst all the Philosophers before his time, only Parmenides excepted, who denied any motion to be in things of whose power he maketh no small accompt.  Pythagoras that each thing or matter was ever gliding and labile.  The Stoicks affirme there is no present time, and that which we call present is but conjoyning and assembling of future time and past. Heraclitus avereth that no man ever entered twice one same river; Epicharmus avoucheth that who ere while borrowed any money doth not now owe it; and that he who yesternight was bidden to dinner this day, commeth to day unbidden: since they are no more themselves, but are become others; and that one mortall substance could not twise be found in one self estate: for by the sodainesse and lightnesse of change sometimes it wasteth, and other times it assembleth; now it comes and now it goes; in some sort, that he who beginneth to be borne never comes to the perfection of being.  For, this being borne commeth never to an end, nor ever stayeth as being at an end; but after the seed proceedeth continually in change and alteration from one to another.  As of mans seed there is first made a shapelesse fruit in the Mothers Wombe, then a shapen Childe, then being out of the Wombe, a sucking babe, afterward he becometh a ladde, then consequently a stripling, then a full growne man, then an old man, and in the end an aged decrepite man.  So that age and subsequent generation goeth ever undoing and wasting the precedent.

Mutat enim mundi naturam totius aetas,
Ex alioque alius status excipere omnia debet,
Nec manet vlla sui similis res, omnia migrant,
Omnia commutat natura et vertere cogit./1

Of th'universall world, age doth the nature change,
And all things from one state must to another range,
No one thing like it selfe remaines, all things doe passe,
Nature doth change, and drive to change, each thing that was.

to say that that is which is not yet in being, or that already hath ceased from being.  And concerning these words, Present, Instant, Even now, by which it seemes that especially we uphold and principally ground the intelligence of time; reason discovering the same doth forthwith destroy it: for presently it severeth it asunder and divideth it into future and past times as willing to see it necessarily parted in two.  As much hapneth unto nature which is measured according unto time, which measureth her: for no more is there any thing in her that remaineth or is subsistent; rather all things in her are either borne or ready to be borne or dying. By means whereof it were a sinne to say of God, who is the only that is, that he was or shall be: for these words are declinations, passages, or vicissitudes of that which cannot last nor continue in being.  Wherefore we must conclude, that only God is, not according to any measure of time, but according to an immoveable and immutable eternity, not measured by time nor subject to any declination, before whom nothing is, nor nothing shall be after, nor more new nor more recent, but one really being: which by one onely Now or Present, filleth the Ever, and there is nothing that truly is but he alone: without saying he has bin or he shall be, without beginning and sans ending.  To this so religious conclusion of a heathen man I will only add this word, taken from a testimony of the same condition, for an end of this long and tedious discourse, which might well furnish me with endlesse matter. 'Oh, what a vile and abject thing is man (saith he) unlesse he raise himselfe above humanity!' Observe here a notable speech and a profitable desire; but likewise absurd.  For to make the handful] greater than the hand, and the embraced greater than the arme, and to hope to straddle more than our legs length, is impossible and monstrous: nor that man should mount over and above himselfe or humanity; for he cannot see but with his owne eyes, nor take hold but with his owne armes.  He shall raise himself up, if it please 

God to lend him his helping hand.  He may elevate himselfe by forsaking and renouncing his owne meanes, and suffering himseIfe to be elevated and raised by meere heavenly meanes.  It is for our Christian faith, not for his Stoicke vertue, to pretend or aspire to this divine Metamorphosis, or miraculous transmutation. 

WHEN we judge of others assurance or boldnesse in death, which without all peradventure is the most remarkeable action of humane life, great heed is to be taken of one thing, which is, that a man will hardly beleeve he is come to that point.  Few men die with a resolution that it is their last houre: and nowher doth hopes deceit ammuse us more.  She never ceaseth to ring in our eares that others have been sicker and yet have not died: the cause is not so desperate as it is taken; and if the worst happen, God hath done greater wonders.  The reason is, that we make too much account of our selves, It seemeth that the generality of things doth in some sort suffer for our annullation and takes compassion of our state.  Forsomuch as our sight, being altered, represents unto itselfe things alike; and we imagine that things faile it as it doth to them:  As they who travell by sea, to whom mountaines, fields, townes, heaven and earth, seeme to goe the same motion, and keepe the same course they doe:

Provehimur portu, terraeque vrbesque recedunt./1

We sayling launch from harbour, and
Behinde our backes leave townes, leave land.

Iamque caput quassans grandis suspirat orator,
Et cum tempora temporibus prmsentia confert

Praeteritis, laudat fortitnas saepe parentis
Et crepat antiquum genus ut pietas repletum./1

The gray-beard Plow-man sighes, shaking his hoarie head,
Compares times that are now with times past heretofore.
Praises the fortunes of his father long since dead,
And crackes of ancient men, whose honesty was more.

     -----Italiam si, caelo authore, recusas,
Me pete: sola tibi causa haec est iusta timoris,
Vectorem non nosse tuum; perrumpe procellas
Tutem secure mei:/2

If Italie thou do refuse with heaven thy guide,
Turn thee to me: to thee only just cause of feare
Is that thy passenger thou know'st not: stormie tide
Breake through, secure by guard of me, whom thou dost beare.

     -----credit jam digna pericula Caesar
Fatis esse suis: tantusque evertere (dixi)
Me superis labor est, parvi quem puppe sedentem.
Tam magno petiere mari./3

Caesar doth now beleeve those dangers worthie are
Of his set fate; and saies, doe Gods take so much pain
Me to undoe, whom they thus to assault prepare
Set in so small a skiffe, in such a surging maine?

Ille etiam extincto miseratus Caesare Romam,
Cum caput obscura nitidum ferrugine texit./1

The Sunne did pity take of Rome when Caesar dide,
When he his radiant head in obscure rust did hide.

Vidimus et toto quamvis in corpore caeso,
Nil anima, lethale datum, moremque nefanda,
Durum saevitiae, pereuntis parcere morti./1

And we have seene, when all the body tortur'd lay,
Yet no stroke deadly giv'n, and that in humane way
Of tyranny, to spare his death that sought to die.

Impiger et fortis virtute coacta.

A ready minded gallant,
And in forst vallour valiant.

soules, meanes of repentance being offered, whether in so dangerous an intent, constancie or obstancie were found in him.  In Caesars civill warres, Lucius Dominus taken in Prussia, having empoysoned himselfe, did afterwards rue and repent his deede.  It hath hapned in our daies that some having resolved to die, and at first not stricken deepe enough, the smarting of his flesh, thrusting his arme backe, twice or thrice more wounded himself, anew, and yet could never stricke sufficiently deepe.  Whilst the arraignment of Plantius Silvanus was preparing, Vrgulania, his grandfather, sent him a poignard, wherewith, not able to kill himselfe thoroughly, he caused his owne servants to cut his veines.  Albucilla, in Tiberius time, purposing to kill herself, but striking over faintly, gave her enemies leasure to apprehend and imprison her, and appoint her what death they pleased.  So did Captaine Demosthenes after his discomfiture in Sicilie.  And C.  Fimbria having over-feeblie wounded himselfe, became a sutor to his boy to make an end of him.  On the other side, Ostorius, who forsomuch as he could not use his owne arme, disdained to employ his servants in any other thing but to hold his dagger stiffe and strongly; and taking his running, himselfe carried his throate to its point, and so was thrust through.  To say truth, it is a meate a man must swallow without chewing, unlesse his throat be frostshod.  And therefore Adrianus the emperour made his Physitian to marke and take the just compasse of the mortall plac about his pap, that so his aime might not faile him, to whom he had given charge to kill him.  Loe why Caesar being demanded, which was the death he most allowed, answered, 'The least premeditated, and the shortest.  If Caesar said it, it is no faintness in me to beleeve it. 'A short death (saith Plinie) is the chiefe happe of humane life.  It grieveth them to acknowledge it.  No man can be said to be resolved to die that feareth to purchase it, and that cannot abide to looke upon and out-stare it with open eies. {death+} Those which in times of execution are seene to runne to their end, and hasten the execution, do it 

not with resolution, but because they will take away time to consider the same; it grieves them not to be dead, but to die.

Emori nolo, sed me esse mortuum, nihil aestimo./1

I would not die too soone,
But care not, when'tis done.

apprehended death, is not only no whit discouraged when he comes to front it, but resolutely falls upon it for being satisfied of that for which he was entred the combate, in a braverie he thrust himselfe into it, to see the end of it.  It is farre from fearing death to goe about to taste and savour the same.  The historie of Cleanthes, the Philosopher, is much like to this.  His gummes being swolne, his Physitians perswaded him to use great abstinence.  Having fasted two daies, he was so well amended, as they told him he was well, and might returne to his wonted course of life.  He contrarily having already tasted some sweetnes in this Painting, resolveth not to drawe back, but to finish what he had so well begunne, and was so far waded into.  Tullius Marcellinus, a yong Romane gentleman, willing to prevent the houre of his destiny, to ridde himselfe of a disease which tormented him more than he would endure, although Physitians promised certainely to cure him, howbeit not sodainely: called his friends unto him to determine about it: some (saith Seneca) gave him that counsell, which for weaknesse of heart themselves would have taken; others for flatteries that which they imagined would be most pleasing unto him but a certainStoike+ standing by, said thus unto him: 'Toile not thy selfe, Marceliinus, as if thou determinedst some weightie matter: to live is no such great thing, thy base groomes and bruit beasts live also, but it is a matter of consequence to die honestly, wisely and constantly.  Remember how long it is; thou doest one same thing, to eate, to drinke, and sleepe; to drinke, to sleepe, to eate.  Wee are ever uncessantly wheeling in this endlesse circle.  Not only bad and intolerable accidents, but the very satiety to live, brings a desire of death.  Marcellinus had no need of a man to counsell, but of one to helpe him: his servants were afraid to meddle with him; but this Philosopher made them to understand that familiars are suspected onely when the question is, whether the maisters death hath beene voluntary: otherwise it would bee as bad an example to hinder him as to kill him, forasmuch as, 

Inuitum qui servat, idemfacit occidenti./1

Who saves a man against his will
Doth ev'a as much as he should kill.

IT is a pleasant imagination to conceive a spirit iustly ballanced betweene two equall desires.  For, it is not to be doubted, that he shall never be resolved upon any match: forsomuch as the application and choise brings all the inequality of prise:  And who should place us betweene a bottle of wine and a gammon of bacon, with an equall appetite to eat and drinke, doubtlesse there were noe remedy, but to die of thirst and of hunger. To provide against this inconvenient, when the Stoikes were demanded whence the election of two indifferent things commeth into our soule (and which causeth that from out a great number of Crownes or Angells we rather take one then another, when there is no reason to induce us to preferre any one before others) they answer, that this motion of the soule is extraorainarie and irregular comming into us by a strange, accidentall and casuall impulsion. In my opinion, it might rather be said that nothing is presented unto us, wherein there is not some difference, how light so ever it bee:  And that either to the sight, or to the feeling, there is ever some choice, which tempteth and drawes us to it, though imperceptible and not to bee distinguished. In like manner, hee that shall presuppose a twine-thrid equially strong all through, it is impossible by all possibility that it should break, for, where would you have the flaw or breaking to beginne?  And at once to break in all places together is not in nature.  The Geometricall propositions which, by the certainty of their demonstrations, conclude the contained greater then the containing,
<Mont2-377> 

and the centre as great as his circumference; and that finde two lines uncessantly approaching one unto another, which yet can never meete and joyne together; and the Philosophers stone, and quadrature of the circle, where the reason and the effects are so opposite: might peradventure draw thence some argument to salve and belpe this bold speech of Pliny:  Solum certum, nihil esse certi, et homine nihil miserius aut superbius:/1 'This only is sure, that there is nothing sure; and nothing more miserable, and yet more arrogant then man. '{Yahoo+}
-----
1 PLIN.  Nat.  Hist. 1. ii. 7. 

THERE is no reason but hath another contrary unto it, saith the wisest party of Philosophers.  I did erewhile ruminate upon this notable saying, which an ancient writer alleageth for the contempt of life.  No good can bring us any pleasure, except that against whole losse we are prepared:  In aequo est, dolor amissae rei, et timor amittendae:/1 {fortune+}'Sorrow for a thing lost, and feare of losing it, are on an even ground.' Meaning to gain thereby, that the fruition of life cannot perfectly be pleasing unto us, if we stand in any feare to lose it.  A man might nevertheless say on the contrary part, that we embrace and claspe this good so much the harder, and with more affection, as we perceive it to be less sure, and feare it should be taken from us.  For, it is manifestly found, that as fire is rouzed up by the assistance of cold, even so our will is whetted on by that which doth resist it.

Si nunquam Danaen habuisset ahenea turis,
Non esset Danae de Iove facta parens./2

If Danae had not beene clos'd in brazen
Tower, Jove had not closed with Danae in golden shower,

Galla nega; satiatur amor, nisi gaudia torquent./1

Good wench, deny, my love is cloied,
Unlesse joyes grieve, before enjoyed.

      ------ et languor, et silentium,
Et latere petitus imo spiritus./2

And whispering voice, and languishment,
And breath in sighes from deepe sides sent.

Quod petiere premunt arcte, faciuntque dolorem
Corpore, et dentes inlidant saepe labellis:
Et stimuli subsunt, qui instigant laedere id ipsum
Quodcumgue est, rabies unde illi germina surgunt,/3

owne.  In Rome the Fence-schooles are ever full of Frenchmen, when few Romans come unto them.  Great Cato, as well as any else, was even cloied and distasted with his wife so long as she was his owne, but when another mans, then wished he for ber, and would faine have lickt his fingers at her.  I have heretofore put forth an old stalion to soile, who before did no sooner see or smell a mare but was so lusty that no man could rule him, nor no ground hold him; ease and facilitie to come to his owne when he list, hath presently quailed his stomacke, and so cloyed him that he is weary of them.  But toward strange mares, and the first that passeth by his pasture, there is no hoe with him, but suddenly he returnes to his old wonted neighings and furious heate.  Our appetite doth contemne and passe over what he hath in his free choice and owne possession, to runne after and pursue what he hath not.

Transuolat in medio posita, et fugientia captat./1

It over flies what open lies,
Pursuing onely that which flies.

     -----nisi tu servare puellam
Incipis, incipiet desinere ese mea,/2

If you begin not your wench to enshrine,
She will begin to leave off to be mine.

Tibi quod super est, mihi quod desit, dolet./3

You grieve because you have too much
It grieves me that I have none such.

     Wishing and enjoying trouble us both alike. The rigor of a mistris is yrkesome, but ease and facility (to say true) much more; forasmuch as discontent and vexation proceed of the estimation we have of the thing desired, which sharpen love and set it afire.  Whereas satiety begets distaste: it is a dull, blunt, weary, and drouzy passion.

Si qua volet regnare diu, contemnat amantem,/1

If any list long to beare sway,
Scorne she her ]over, ere she play.

     -----contemnite amantes,
Sic hodie veniet, si qua negavit heri,/2

Lovers your lovers scorne, contemne, delude, deride
So will shee come to-day, that yesterday denied.

Et fugit ad salices, et se cupit ante videri./3

She to the willows runs to hide,
Yet gladly would she first be spide,

Interdum tunica duxit operta moram./4

She cover'd with her cote in play,
Did sometime make a short delay.

to gourmandize, and at our pleasure to dispose all this squeamish ceremonie, and all these peevish obstacles?  For, it is not only a delight but a glory to besot and debauch this dainty and nice sweetnesse, and this infantine bashfullnesse, and to subject a marble and sterne gravity to the mercy of our flame.  It is a glory (say they) to triumph over modesty, chastity and temperance: and who disswadeth ladies from these parts, betraieth both them and himselfe.  It is to be supposed that their heart yerneth for feare, that the sound of our wordes woundeth the purity of their eares, for which they hate us, and with a forced constraint agree to withstand our importunitie. Beauty with all her might hath not wherewith to give a taste of her selfe without these interpositions.  See in Italie, where most, and of the finest beauty is to be sold, how it is forced to seek other strange meanes, and suttle devices, arts and tricks, to yeeld her selfe pleasing and acceptable: and yet in good sooth, doe what it can, being venal and common, it remaineth feeble, and even languishing.  Even as in vertue of two equall effects, we hold that the fairest and worthiest, wherein are proposed more lets, and which affordeth greater hazards.  It is an effect of Gods providence, to suffer his holy Church to be vexed and turmoyled as we see with so many troubles and stormes, to rouze and awaken by this opposition and strife the godly and religious soules, and raise them from out a lethall security and stupified slumber, wherein so long tranquility had plunged them.  If we shall counterpoize the losse we have had by the number of those that have strayed out of the right way, and the profit that acrueth unto us, by having taken hart of grace, and by reason of combate raised our zeale and forces; I wot not whether the profit doth surmount the losse.  We thought to tie the bond of our marriages the faster by removing all meanes to dissolve them, but by how much faster that of constraint hath bin tried, so much more hath that of our will and affection bin slacked and loosed:  Whereas, on the contrary side, that which so long time held mariages in honour and safety in 

Rome, was the liberty to break them who list.  They kept their wives the better, forsomuch as they might leave them; and when divorces might freely be had, there past five hundred years and more before any would ever make use of them.

Quod licet, ingratum est, quod non licet, acrius urit./1

What we may doe, doth little please:
It woormes us more, that hath lesse ease.

Latius excisae pestis contagia serpunt.

Th' infection of the plague nigh spent
And rooted out, yet further went.

meanes, ease and facility doth haply cover and fence my house from the violence of civill wares:  Inclos-urer and fencing drawe on the enterprise, and distrust, the offence.  I have abated and weakened the souldiers designe by taking hazard and all means of military glory from their exploite, which is wont to serve them, for a title, and stead them for an excuse.  What is performed courageously, at what time justice lieth dead, and law hath not her due course, is ever done honourably.  I yeeld them the conquest of my house dastardly and treacherous.  It is never shut to any that knocketh. It hath no other guardian or Provision but a porter, as an ancient custome, and used ceremony, who serveth not so much to defend my gate as to offer it more decently and courteously to all comers.  I have nor watch nor sentinell but what the starres keepe for mee.  That gentleman is much to blame who makes a shew to stand upon his guards, except he be very strong indeed. Who so is open on one side is so every where.  Our fore-fathers never dreamed on building of frontire townes and castles.  The meanes to assaile (I meane without battery and troopes of armed men) and to surprise our houses, encrease daily beyond the meanes of garding or defending.  Mens wits are generally exasperated and whetted on that way.  An invasion concerneth all, the defence none but the rich.  Mine was sufficiently strong, according to the times when it was made.  I have since added nothing unto it that way; and I would feare the strength of it should turne against my selfe.  Seeing a peaceable time will require we shall unfortifie them.  It is dangerous not to be able to recover them againe, and it is hard for one to be assured of them.  For concerning intestine broils, your owne servant may be of that faction you stand in feare of.  And where religion serveth for a pretence, even alliances and consanguinitie become mistrustful under colour of justice.  Common rents cannot entertaine our private garrisons.  They should all be consumed.  We have not wherewith, nor are wee able to doe it without our 

apparent ruine, or more incommodiously and therewithall injuriously without the common peoples destruction.  The state of my losse should not be much worse.  And if you chance to be a looser, your owne friends are readier to accuse your improvidence and unhedinesse than to moane you, and excuse your ignorance and carelesenesse concerning the offices belonging to your profession.  That so many strongly-garded houses have been lost, whereass mine continueth still, makes me suspect they were overthrowne onely because they were so diligently garded.  It is that which affoordeth a desire and ministreth a pretence to the assailant.  All gards beare a shew of warre, which if God be so pleased may light upon me.  But so it is, I will never call for it.  It is my sanctuary or retreate to rest my selfe from warres.  I endeavour to free this corner from the publike storme, as I doe another corner in my soule.  Our warre may change forme and multiply and diversifie how and as long as it list, but for my selfe I never stirre. Amongst so many barricaded and armed houses, none but my selfe (as farre as I know) of my qualitie hath merely trusted the protection of his unto the heavens: {Antonio+} for I never removed neither plate, nor hangings, nor my evidences.  I will neither feare nor save my selfe by halfes.  If a full acknowledgement purchaseth the; favour of God, it shall last me for ever unto the end: if not, I have continued long enough to make my continuance remarkeable and worthy the registring.  What, is not thirtie yeares a goodly time? {unilateral_disarmament+} 

THERE is both name, and the thing: the name is a voice which noteth and signifieth the thing: the name is neither part of thing nor of substance: it is a stranger-piece joyned to the thing and from it.  God who in and by himselfe is all fulnesse, and the type of all perfection, cannot inwardly be augmented or encreased: yet may his name be encreased and augmented by the blessing and praise which we give unto his exteriour workes; which praise and blessing, since we cannot incorporate into him, forsomuch as no accession of good can be had unto him, we ascribe it unto his name, which is a part without him, and the neerest unto him.  And that is the reason why glory and honour appertaineth to God only. {Antonio+} And there is nothing so repugnant unto reason as for us to goe about to purchase any for our selves: for being inwardly needy and defective, and our essence imperfect and ever wanting amendment, we ought only labour about that. We are all hollow and empty, and it is not with breath and words we should fil our selves.  We have need of a more solide substance to repaire our selves.  An hunger starved man might be thought most simple rather to provide himselfe of a faire garment then of a good meales-meat: we must runne to that which most concerneth us.  Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus./1

'Glory be to God on high, and peace on earth amongst men,' as say our ordinary prayers.  We are in great want of beautie, health, wisdome, vertue, and such like essentiall parts.  Exteriour ornaments
-----
1 Luke ii. xiv.
<Mont2-387> 

may be sought for when we are once provided of necessary things.  Divinitie doth very amply and pertinently treate of this subject, but I am not very conversant with it.  Chrysippus and Diogenes have beene the first and most constant authors of the contempt of glory+. And amongst all sensualities, they said, there was as none so dangerous nor so much to be avoided as that which commeth unto us by the approbation of others. {Hotspur+} Verily experience makes us thereby feele and undergoe many damageable treasons. Nothing so much empoisoneth princes as flattery+. Nor nothing whereby the wicked minded gaine so easie credit about them; nor any enticement so fit, nor pandership so ordinary to corrupt the chastity of women, then to feed and entertaine them with their praises.  The first enchantment the Syrens employed to deceive Ulisses is of this nature.

Deca vers nous, deca, o treslouable Ulisse,
Et le plus grand honneur dont la Grece fleurisse.
Turne to us, to us turne, Ulisses thrice-renowned,
The principall renowne wherewith all Greece is crowned.

Gloria quantalibet quid erit, si gloria tantum est?/1

Never so gIorious name,
What ist, be it but fame?

to hide our life and care but for our selves, and would not have us know of others, would also have us not to be honoured and glorified thereby. So doth he counsel Idomeneus by no meanes to order his actions by the vulgar opinion and publike reputation: unlesse it be to avoide other accidentall in-commodities which the contempt of men might bring unto him.  Those discourses (are in mine advise) very true and reasonable: but I wot not how we are double in our selves, which is the cause that what we beleeve we beleeve it not, and cannot rid our selves of that which we condemne.  Let us consider the last words of Epicurus, and which he speaketh as he is dying: they are notable and worthy such a Philosopher: but yet they have some badge of his names commendations, and of the humour which by his precepts he had disavowed.  Behold here a letter which he edited a little before he yeelded up the ghost. 'Epicurus to Hermachus health and greeting.  Whilst I passe the happy, and even the last day of my life, I write this, accompanied neverthelesse with such paine in my bladder and anguish in my entrails, that nothing can be added unto the greatnesse of it; yet was it recompensed with the pleasure which the remembrance of my inventions and discourses brought unto my soule.  Now as requireth the affection which even from the infancy thou bast borne me and Philosophy, embrace the protection of Metrodorus his children.  Loe here his letter.  And which makes me interpret that the pleasure which in his soule he saith to feele of his inventions, doth in some sort respect the reputation which after his death he thereby hoped to attaine, is the ordinance of his last will and testament, by which he willeth that Aminomachus and Timocrates his heires should for the celebration of his birth- day every month of January supply all such charges as Hermachus should appoint: and also for the expence he might be at on the twentieth of every moon for the feasting and entertainment of the Philosophers his familiar friends, who in the honour of his memorie and of Metrodorus should meete together.  Carneades 

hath been chiefe of the contrary opinion and hath maintained that glory was in it selfe to bee desired, even as we embrace our posthumes for themselves, having neither knowledge nor jovissanee of them.  This opinion hath not missed to be more commonly followed as are ordinarily those that fit most and come nearest our inclidations.  Aristotle amongst externall goods yeeldeth the first ranke unto it: and avoideth as two extreme vices the immoderation either in seeking or avoiding it.  I beleeve that had we the bookes which Cicero writ upon this subject, we should heare strange matters of him: for he was so fond in this passion as had he dared he would (as I thinke) have easily falne into the excesse that others fell in; which is that even vertue was not to be desired but for the honour which ever waited on it

Paulum sepultae distat inertiae
Celata virtus./1

There is but little difference betweene
Vertue conccal'd, unskilfulnesse unseene.

riches which C.  Plotius had committed to his only trust and secrecie, and as my selfe have done often, I thinke not so commendable, as I would deeme it execrable, if we had not done it.  And I thinke it beneficiall we should in our daies be mindfull of Publius Sextilius Rufus his example, whom Cicero accuseth that he had received a great inheritance against his conscience: not only not repugnant, but agreeing with the lawes.  And M. Crassus and Q.  Hortensius, who by reason of their authority and might, having for certaine Quidities been called by a stranger to the succession of a forged will, that so he might make his share good: they were pleased not to be partakers of his forgery, yet refused not to take some profit of it: very closely had they kept themselves under the countenance of the accusations, witnesses, and lawes.  Meminerint Deum se habere testem, id est (ut ego arbitror) mentem suam: 'Let them remember they have God to witnesse, that is (as I construe it) their owne minde.  Vertue is a vaine and frivolous thing if it draw her commendation from glory.  In vaine should we attempt to make her keepe her rancke apart, and so should we disjoyne it from fortune: for what is more casuall then reputation+? Profecto, fortuna in omni re dominator:  Ea res cuizetas ex libidine magis quam ex vero celebrat obscuratque: '~Fortune+ governeth in all things, and either advaileth or abaseth them rather by froward disposition then upright judgement.  To make actions to be knowne and seene, is the meere work of fortune.  It is chance that applieth glory unto us, according to her temeritie.  I have often seene it to goe before desert; yea, and many times to outgoe merit by very much. He that first bethought himselfe of the resemblance betweene shadow and glory, did better than he thought of.  They are exceeding vaine things. It also often goeth before her body, and sometimes exceeds by much in length. Those who teach nobilitie to seeke in valour nothing but honour:  Quasi non sit honestum quod nobilitatum non sit: 'As though it were not honest except it were ennobled:' what gaine they by it?  But to instruct 

enterprise according as necessity and occasion offereth it selfe.  And if it be well noted (in mine advice) it will be found, and experience doth teach it, that the least blazoned occasions are the most dangerous, and that in our late home-warres, more good men have perished in slight and little importing occasions, and in contention about a small cottage, than in worthy atchievements and honourable places.  Whoso thinketh his death ill emploied, except it be in some glorious exploit or famous attempt, in lieu of dignifying his death, he happily obscureth his life: suffring in the meane time many just and honor-affoording opportunities to escape, wherein he might and ought adventure himselfe.  And all just occasions are glorious enough; his owne conscience publishing them sufficiently to all men.  Gloria nostra et testimonium conscientiae nostra:/1 'Our glory is the testimony of our conscience.' He that is not an honest man but by that which other men know by him, and because he shall the better be esteemed; being knowne to be so, that will not do well but upon condition his vertue may come to the knowledge of men; such a one is no man from whom any great service may be drawne, or good expected.

Credo ch'il resto di quel verno, cose
Facesse deqne di tenerne conto,
Ma fur fin' a quel tempo si nascose,
Che non e colpa mia s'hor' non le conto,
Perche Orlando a far' opre virtuose
Piu ch' a narrle poi sempre era pronto
Ne mai fu alcun' de li suoi fatti espresso,
Senon quando hebbe testimonii appresso./2

I guesse, he of that winter all the rest
Atchiev'd exploits, whereof to keepe account,
But they untill that time were so supprest,
As now my fault 'tis not, them not to count,
Because Orlando ever was more prest
To doe+, than tell deeds that might all surmount.
Nor was there any of his deeds related
Unlesse some witnesse were associated.

     A man must me to warres for his devoirs sake, and expect this recompence of it, which cannot faile all worthy actions, how secret soever; no not to vertuous thoughts: it is the contentment that a well disposed conscience receiveth in it selfe by well doing. {virtue_own_reward+} A man must be valiant for himselfe and for the advantage he hath to have his courage placed in a constant and assured seate, to withstand all assaults of fortune.

Virtus repulsae nescia sordidae,
Intaminatis fulget honoribus:
Nec sumit aut ponit secures
Arbitrio popularis aurae./1

Vertue unskill'd to take repulse that's base,
In undefiled honors earely shines,
At the dispose of peoples airy grace
She signes of honor tak's not, nor resignes.

esse universos?/1  'Is there anything more foolish then to thinke that al together they are oughts, whom every one single you would set at noughts.  Whosoever aimeth to please them hath never done.  It is a Butt, that hath neither forme nor holdfast.' Nil tam inaestimabile est, quam aninti multitudinis: 'Nothing is so incomprehensible to be just waied, as the minds of the multitude.' Demetrius said merrily of the common peoples voice, that he made no more reckoning of that which issued from out his mouth above, then of that which came from a homely place below; and saith moreover:  Ego hoc judico, si quando turpe non sit, tamen non esse non turpe, quum id a multitudine laudetur:/2 'Thus I esteem of it, if of it selfe it be not dishonest, yet can it not but be dishonest, when it is applauded by the many.'  No art, no mildnesse of spirit might direct our steps to follow so stragling and disordered a guide.  In this breathie confusion of bruites and frothy Chaos of reports and of vulgar opinions, which still push us on, no good course can be established.  Let us not propose so fleeing and so wavering an end unto our selves.  Let us constantly follow reason:  And let the vulgar approbation follow us that way.  If it please:  And as it depends all on fortune, we have no law to hope for it, rather by any other way then by that.  Should I not follow a strait path for its straightnesse, yet would I do it because experience hath taught me that in the end it is the happiest and most profitable.{virtue_own_reward+} Dedit hoc providentia hominibus munus at honesta magis juvarent: ' Mans providence hath given him this gift, that honest things should more delight and availe him.  The ancient Sailer said thus to Neptune in a great storme, 'Oh God, thou shalt save me if thou please, if not, thou shalt lose me; yet will I keep my helme still fast,' I have in my daies seene a thousand middle, mungrell and ambiguous men, and whom no man doubted to be more worldly-wise than my selfe, lose themselves, where I have saved my selfe.
-----
1 AELIAN.  Var.  Hist. 1. ii. c. 1. 1 CIC.  Fin.  Ben. 1. ii. 

Risi successu posse carere dolos/1

I smild to see that wily plots
Might want successe (and leave men sots).

Laudari haud metuam, neque enim mihi cornea fibra est,
Sed recti finemque extremumque esse recuso
Euge tuum et belle./2

{Coriolanus+} Nor feare I to be prais'd, for my guttes are not home,
But that the utmost end of good should be, I scorne,
Thy O well said, well done, well plaid.

selves entangled in it, wee shall not want skill how to cloake our sport with a good face, searne countenance, and bold speeches; although our heart doe quake within us. 'And hee that had the use of the Platonicall Ring,{Gyges+} whose vertue was to make him invisible that wore it upon his finger, if it were turned toward the flat of the hand; many would hide themselves when they should most make shewe of their worth, and would be sorie to be placed in so honourable a place where necessity may be their warrant of safetie.

Falsus honor iuvat, et mendax infamia terra
Quem, nisi mendosum et mendacem/1

False honour tickles; false defame affrights,
Whom, but the faulty, and false-fierd sprights?

     ----- non quicguid turbida Roma
Elevet, accedas, examenque improbum in illa
Castiges trutina, nec te quaesiveris extra./2

If troublous Rome set ought at nought, make you not one,
Nor chastise you unjust examination
In balance of their lode:
Nor seeke your selfe abrode.

saith of Herostratus, and Titus Livius of Manlius Capitolinus, that they were more desirous of great then good reputation+. It is an ordinary fault; we endevour more that men should speake of us, then how and what they speake, and it sufficeth us that our name run in mens mouthes, in what manner soever.  It seemeth that to be knowen is in some sort to have life and continuance in other mens keeping.  As for me I hold that I am but in my selfe; and of this other life of mine which consisteth in the knowledge of my friends, being simply and barely considered in my self well I wot, I neither feele fruite or jovissance of it, but by the vanitie of fantasticall opinion.  And when I shall be dead, I shall much lesse have a feeling of it:  And shall absolutely lose the use of true utilities which sometimes accidentally follow it:  I shall have no more fastnesse to take hold on reputation, nor whereby it may either concerne or come unto mee. For, to expect my name should receive it, First, I have no name that is sufficiently mine: of two I have, the one is common to all my race, yea and also to others.  There is a family at Paris and another at Montpellier called Montaigne, another in Britany, and one in Xaintonge, surnamed de la Montaigne.  The removing of one onely syllable may so confound our webbe, as I shall have a share in their glory, and they perhaps a part of my shame. And my Ancestors have heretofore beene surnamed Higham or Eyquem, a surname which also belongs to a house well knowen in England.  As for my other name, it is any bodies that shall have a minde to it.  So shall I happily honour a Porter in my stead.  And suppose I had a particular marke or badge for my selfe, what can it marke when I am no more extant?  May it desseigne or favour inanity?

      ------nunc levior cippus non imprimit ossa?
Laudat posteritas; nunc non e manibus illis,
Nunc non e tumulo fortunataque favilla
Nascuntur violae?/1

Doth not the grave-stone on such bones sit light?
Posterity applaudes: from such a spright,
From such a tombe, from ashes blessed so,
Shall there not Violets (in cart-lodes) grow?

---- casus multis hic cognitus, ac iam
Tritus, et e medio fortuno ductus acervo./1
 

This case is knowne of many, worne with nothing,
Drawne from the midle heape of fortunes doting.

Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura,/1

Scarcely to us doth passe
Fames thin breath, how it was.

      ------ quos fama obscura recondit./2

Whom fame obscure before
Layes up in unknowne store.

measure proportion and impartially consider, of what kinde of people, and of what deedes the glory is kept in the memory of bookes, he shall finde there are few actions and very few persons that may justly pretend any right in them.  How many vertuous men have we seene to survive their owne reputation, who even in their presence have seen the honor and glorie which in their young daies they had right-justly purchased, to be cleane extinguished?  And doe we for three yeares of this fantasticall and imaginarie life lose and foregoe our right and essentiall life, and engage our selves in a perpetuall death?  The wiser sort propose a right-fairer and much more just end unto themselves, to so urgent and weighty an enterprise. Recte facti, fecisse merces est:  Officii fructi, ipsum officium est:/1{Major+} 'The reward of well-doing is the doing, and the fruit of our duty is our duty.'  It might peradventure be excusable in a Painter or other artificer, or also in a Rhetorician or Gramarian, by his labours to endevor to purchase a name:  But the actions of vertue are themselves too-too noble to seeke any other reward then by their own worth and merit, and especially to seeke it in the vanity of mans judgement.  If this false-fond opinion doe notwithstanding serve and stead a common wealth to hold men to their dutie: if the people be thereby stirred up to vertue: if Princes be any way touched to see the world blesse and commend the memorie of Trajan, and detest the remembrance of Nero: if that doth moove them to see the name of that arch-villanie, heretofore so dreadfull and so much redoubted of all, so boldly cursed and so freely outraged by the first scholer that undertakes him:  Let it hardly be increased, and let us (as much as in us lieth) still foster the same amongst ourselves.  And Platoe employing all meanes to make his Citizens vertuous, doth also perswade them not to contemne the peoples good estimation. And saith that through some divine inspiration it commeth to passe that even the wicked know often, as well by word as by opinion, how to distinguish justly
-----
1 SEN.  Epist. lxxxi. 

the good from the bad.  This man, together with his master, are wonderfull and bold workmen to joyne divine operations and revelations wheresoever humane force faileth.  And therefore did perventure Timon (deeming thereby to wrong him) surname him the great forger of miracles. Vt tragici poetae confugiunt ad Deum, cum explicare argumenti exitum non possunt./1
'As Poets that write Tragedies have recourse to some God when they cannot unfold the end of their argument.' Since men by reason of their insufliciencie cannot well pay themselves with good lawfull coine, let them also employ false money.  This meane hath beene practised by all the law-givers:  And there is no common wealth where there is not some mixture either of ceremonious vanity or of false opinion, which as a restraint serveth to keepe the people in awe and dutie.  It is therefore that most of them have such fabulous grounds and trifling beginnings, and enriched with supernaturall mysteries.  It is that which hath given credit unto adulterate and unlawfull religions, and hath induced men of understanding to favour and countenance them.  And therefore did Noma and Sertorius, to make their men have a better beliefe, feed them with this foppery: the one, that the Nimph Egeria, the other that his white Hinde, brought him all the councels he tooke from the Gods.  And the same authority which Numa gave his lawes under the title of this Goddesses patronage, Zoroaster, Law-giver to the Bactrians and Persians, gave it to his, under the name of the God Oromazis. Trismegistus, of the AFgyptians, of Mercury:  Zamolzie, of the Scithians, of Vesta:  Charondas, of the Chalcedonians, of Saturne:  Minos, of the Candiots, of Jupiter:  Lycurgus, of the Lacedemonians, of Apollo:  Dracon and Solon, of the Athenians, of Minerva.  And every common wealth hath a God to her chiefe: al others falsly, but that truly which Moses instituted for the people of Jewry descended from Aegypt.  The Bedoins religion (as saith the Lord of Jouinvile) held among other things that his soule which among them all died
-----
1 CIC.  Nat.  Deor. 1. i. 

for his Prince went directly into another more happy body much fairer and stronger than the first: by means whereof they much more willingly hazarded their lives for his sake.

In ferrum mens prona viris animaeque capaces
Mortis: et ignavum est rediturae parcere vitae./1

Those men sword minded, can death entertaine,
Thinke base to spare the life that turnes againe.

Quae, quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit./3

She doth it, though she do it not
Because she may not doe't (Got wot).

THERE is another kind of glory, which is an over-good opinion we conceive of our worth.  It is an inconsiderate affection, wherewith wee cherish our selves, which presents us unto our selves other then we are.  As an amorous passion addeth beauties and lendeth graces to the subject it embraceth, and maketh such as are therewith possessed, with a troubled conceit and distracted judgmement, to deeme what they love, and finde what they affect, to bee other, and seeme more perfect, then in trueth it is.  Yet would I not have a man, for feare of offending in that point, to misacknowledge himselfe, nor thinke to bee lesse then hee is:  A true judgement should wholly and in every respect mainetaine his right.  It is reason, that as in other things, so in this subject he see what truth presenteth unto him. If he be Caesar, let him boldly deeme himselfe the greatest Captaine of the world.  We are nought but ceremonie: ceremonie doth transport us, and wee leave the substance of things; we hold-fast by the boughs, and leave the trunke or body.  Wee have taught ladies to blush, onely by hearing that named which they nothing feare to doe.  Wee dare not call our members by their proper names, and feare not to employ them in all kind of dissolutenese. Ceremonie forbids us by words to expresse lawfull and naturall things; and we beleeve it.  Reason willeth us to doe no bad or unlawfull things, and no man giveth credit unto it.  Here I find my selfe entangled in the lawes of Ceremonie, for it neither allowes a man to speake ill or good of himselfe. {PlainDealer+} Therefore will wee leave her at this time. Those whom
<Mont2-404> 

fortune (whether we shall name her good or bad) hath made to passe their life in some eminent or conspicuous degree, may by their publike actions witnesse what they are; but those whom she never emploied but in base things, and of whom no man shall ever speake, except themselves doe it, they are excusable if they dare speake of themselves to such as have interest in their acquaintance, after the example of Lucillus

Ille velut fidis arcana sodalibus olim
Credebat libris: neque si male cesserat, usquam
Decurrens alio, neque si bene: quo fit, ut omnis Votiva pateat veluti descripta tabella
Vita senis./1

o his booke, as to his trusty friend
His secrets, nor did he to other refuge bend,
How ever well, or ill, with him his fortune went.
Hence is it, all the life is seene the old man spent,
As it were in a Table noted,.
Which were unto some God devoted.

with painefull imaginations: and Cicero (as I remember) had gotten a custome to wryth his nose, which signifieth a naturall scoffer.  Such motions may unawares and imperceptibly possesse us.  Others there be which are artificiall, whereof I will not speake.  As salutations, reverences, or conges, by which some doe often purchase the honour (but wrongfully) to be humble, lowly, and courteous: a man may be humble through glory.  I am very prodigall of cappings, namely in Summer, and I never receive any from what quality of men soever, but I give them as good and as many as they bring, except be be some servant of mine.  I wish that some Princes whom I know would be more sparing and in partiall dispencers of them, for, being so indiscreetly employed, they have no force at all:  If they be without regard, then are they without effect.  Amongst disordered countenances, let us not forget the sterne looke of Constantius the Emperour, who in publike held ever his head bolt-upright, without turning or bending the same on any side, no not so much as to looke on them that saluted him sideling, holding his body so fixt and unmoveable, that let his coche shake never so much, he kept still up-right: he durst never spit nor wipe his nose nor drie his face before. the people.  I wot not whether those gestures which were noted in me were of this first condition, and whether in truth I had any secret propension to this fault, as it may well be: and I cannot answer for the motions of my body.  But concerning those of the soule, I will here ingenuously confesse what I thinke of them.  There are two parts in this glory: which is to say, for a man to esteeme himselfe overmuch, the other, not sufficiently to esteeme of others.  For the one, first me thinks these considerations ought somewhat to be accompted of.  I feele my selfe surcharged with one errour of the mind, which both as bad, and much more as importunate, I utterly dislike.  I endevour to correct it; but I cannot displace it.  It is, because I abate the just value of those things which I possesse; and enhance the worth of things by how much they are more 

strange, absent and not mine owne.  This humor extends it selfe very farre, as doth the prerogative of the authority, wherewith husbands looke upon their owne wives with a vicious disdaine, and many fathers upon their children: so doe I, and betweene two like workes would I ever weigh against mine.  Not so much that the jealousie of my preferment, and amendment troubleth my judgement, and hindereth me from pleasing my selfe, as that mastery her self begets a contempt of that which a man possesseth and oweth.  Policies, far customes and tongues flatter me; and I perceive the Latine ton gue by the favour of her dignity to deceive me, beyond what belongs unto her, as children and the vulgar sort.  My neighbours economie; his house, and his horse, though but of equall value, is more worth then mine by how much more it is not mine owne.  Besides, because I am most ignorant in mine owne matters, I admire the assurance, and wonder at the promise that every man hath of himselfe: whereas there is almost nothing that I wot I know, nor that I dare warrant my selfe to be able to doe.  I have not my faculties in proposition or by estate, and am not instructed in them but after the effect; as doubtfull of mine owne strength, as uncertaine of anothers force. Whence it followeth, if commendably I chance upon any one piece of worke, I rather impute it to my fortune+, then ascribe it to mine industry; forasmucb as I designe them all to hazard and in feare.  Likewise I have this in generall, that of all the opinions which Antiquity hath had of men in gross, those which I most willingly embrace, and whereon I take most hold, are such as most vilifie, condemne, and annihilate us. {Yahoo+} Me thinks Philosophy hath never better cardes to shew then when she checketh our presumption, and crosseth our vanity; when in good sooth she acknowledgeth her irresolution, her weaknesse and her ignorance.  Me seemeth the over good conceit and selfe-weening opinion man hath of himselfe, is the nurse-mother of the falsest opinions, both publike and particular.  Those which a cocke-horse will pearch 

themselves upon the Epicicle of Mercury and see so farre into heaven, they even pull out my teeth.  For in the study which I professe, the subject whereof is Man, {proper_study+} finding so extreme a inextricable a labyrinth of difficulties, one upon the necke of another, so great diversitie, and so much uncertaintie, yea even in the school of wisedome it selfe: you may imagine since those men could never be resolved of the knowledge of themselves and of their owne condition, which is continually before their eyes, which is ever within them; since they know not how that moveth which themselves cause to move, nor how to set forth the springs, and decipher the wards, which themselves hold and handle, how should I thinke of the true cause of the flux and reflux of the river Nilus?  The curiosity to know things hath beene given to men (as saith the holy Scripture for a scourge.  But to come to my particular, it is very hard (mee seemeth) that some other regardeth him selfe lesse, yea and some other esteemeth me lesse than I esteeme my selfe.  I accompt my selfe of the common+ sort, except in that I deeme myselfe guiltie of the basest, and culpable most popular defects: but not disavowed nor excused. {low_esteem+} And I only prise my selfe wherein I know my worth.  If any glory be in me, it is but superficially infused into me; by the treason of my complexion: and hath no solide body appearing to the sight of my judgement.  I am but sprinckled over, but not throughly dyed.  For in truth, touching the effects of the spirit in what manner soever, there never came any thing from me that contented me.  And others approbation is no currant payment for me.  My judgement is tender and hard, especially in mine owne behalf.  I feele my self to waver and bend through weaknesse:  I have nothing of mine owne to satisfie my judgement. My sight is indifferently cleare and regular; but if I take any serious worke in hand, it is troubled and dimmed: as I perceive most evidently in poesie:  I love it exceedingly:  I have some insight or knowledge in other mens labours, but in truth I play the novice when I 

set my hand unto it: then can I not abide my selfe.  A man may play the foole every where else, but not in poesie:

     -----mediocribus esse poetis
Non dii, non homines, non concessere, columnae,/1

Nor Gods, nor men, nor pillers gave the graunt,
That Poets in a meane, should meanely chaunt.

     -----verum
Nil securius est malo Poeta./2

Nothing securer may he had,
Then is a Poet bold and bad.

death seemed in some sort to subscribe: which implied that Dionysius should be neare his end, at what time he had vanquished those that should be of more worth than himselfe; which he interpreted to be the Carthaginians, who exceeded him in might.  And having at any time an occasion to fight with them, that that he might not incur the meaning of his prediction, he would often temper and avoide the victorie.  But he mis-understood the matter, for God observed the the time of advantage, when as through partiall fatvour and injustice he obtained the victory over the tragicall poets of Athens, who were much better than he was, where he caused, in contention of them, his tragedie, entitled the Leneiens, to be publikely acted.  After which usurped victorie, be presently deceased: and partly through the excessive joy he thereby conceived.  What I finde excusable in mine is not of it selfe and according to truth: but in comparison of other compositions, worse then mine, to which I see some credit given.  I envie the good the happe of those which can applaude and gratifie themselves by their owne labours; for it is an easie matter for one to please himselfe, since he drawes his pleasure from himselfe: especially if one be somewhat constant in his owne wilfulnesse.  I know a poetaster, gainst whom both weake and strong, in company and at home, both heaven and earth, affirme and say he hath no skill or judgement in poesie, who for all that is nothing dismaied, nor will not abate one jote of that measure whereunto he hath fitted himselfe; but is ever beginning againe, ever consulting anew, and alwaies persisting; by so much the more fixed in his opinion by how much the more it concerneth him alone, and he only is to maintaine it.  My compositions are so farre from applauding me, that as many times as I looke them over, so often am I vexed at them.

Cum relego, scripsisse pudet, quia plurima cerno,
Me quoque qui feci judice, digna lini./1

When I re-read, I shame I write; for much I see,
My selfe, who made them, being judge, blotted to be.

     ----- si quid enim placet,
Si quid dulce hominum, sensibus influit.
Debentur lepidis omnia gratus.

If ought do please, if any sweet
The sense of men with pleasures greet,
To thank the Graces it is meet.

in many of my companions, to entertaine commers, to keep a whole troupe in talk, to ammuse a princes eares with all manner of discourses and never to be weary, and never to want matter, by reason of the graces they have in applying their first approches, and fitting them to the humour and capacity of those they have to doe withall.  Princes love not greatly serious and long discourses, nor I to tell tales.  The first and easiest reasons (which are commonly the best taken I can neither employ nor make use of them. I am an ill orator to the common sort.  I speake the utmost I know of all matters. {Kent+} Cicero thinks, in discourses of philosophy, the exordium to be the hardest part: if it be so, I wisely lay hold on the conclusion. Yet should a man know how to turne his strings to all aires: and the sharpest comes ever last in play..  There is at last as much perfection in raising up an empty as to uphold a weighty thing: a man must sometimes handle matters but superficially, and at other times dive into them.  I wot well that most men keep themselves on this low stage because they conceive not of things but by the outward shew. {Kent+} I also know that the greatest clarkes, yea Xenophon and Plato, are often seene to yeeld to this low and popular fashion, in speaking of matters, upholding it with those graces which they never want.  As for the rest, my language hath neither facility nor fluency in it, but is harsh and sharpe, having free and unsinnowy dispositions.{PlainDealer+} And so it liketh me, if not by my judgement, yet by my inclination. But yet I perceive that sometimes I wade too farre into it, and that forcing my selfe to avoide art and affectation, I fall into it another way. {PlainDealer+}

     ----- brevis esse labore:
Obscurus fio./1

To be short labour I?
I darker grow thereby.

although the cadences and breakings of Salust doe best agree with my humour, yet do I finds Caesar both greater and lesse easie to be represented. And if my inclination doth rather carrie mee to the imitation of Senecaes stile, I omit not to esteeme Plutarke much more.  As well in silence as in speech, I am simply my naturall forme, whence happily ensueth that I am more in speaking than in writing.  The motions and actions of the body give life unto words, namely, in them that move roundly and without affectation, as I doe, and that will be earnest. {PlainDealer+} Behaviour, the face, the voice, the gowne, and the place, may somewhat endeare those things which in themselves are but meane, as pratling.  Messala complaineth in Tacitus of certaine strait garments used in his time, and discommendeth the fashion of the benches whereon the Orators were to speak, saying they weakened their eloquence.  My French tongue is corrupted both in the pronunciation and elsewhere by the barbarisme of my country.  I never saw men of these hither-countries that did not evidently taste of his home-speech, and who often did not wound those caree that are purely French.  Yet it is not because I am so cunning in my Perigordin: for I have no more use of it than of the Dutch, nor doe I greatly care.  It is a language (as are many others round about me) like to that of Poitou, Xaintonge, Angoulesme, Limosin, and Auvergne, squattering, dragling, and filthie.  There is about us, towards the mountaines, a Gascoine tongue, which I much commend and like, sinnowie, pithie, short, significant, and in truth man-like and military; {PlainDealer+} more than any other I understand.  As compendious, powerfull, and pertinent as the French is gracious, delicate, and copious.  As for the Latine, which was given me for my mother-tongue, by reason of discontinuance, I have so lost the promptitude, of it, as I cannot well make use of it in speech, and scarcely in writing, in which I have heretofore beene so ready, that I was called a master in it.  Loe heere my little sufficiencie in that behalfe. Beauty is a part of great commendation in the 

commerce and societie of men.  It is the chiefe meane of reconciliation betweene one and other.  Nor is there any man so barbarous and so hard-hearted, that in some sort feeleth not himselfe strucken with her sweetnes.  The body hath a great part in our being, and therein keepes a speciall rancke. For his structure and composition are worthy due consideration.  Such as goe about to sunder our two principall parts, are much to blame; they ought rather to be coupled and joyned fast together.  The soule must be enjoyned not to retire to her selfe her quarter, nor to entertaine her selfe apart, nor to despise and leave the body (which she cannot well doe, except it be by some counterfeited, apish tricke) but ought so combine and cling fast unto him, to embrace, to cherish, assist, correct, perswade, and advise him, and if hee chance to sway or stray, then to leade and direct him: In fine, she should wed and serve him instead of a husband, that so their effects may not seeme contrary and divers, but agreeing and uniforme.  Christians have a particular instruction concerning this bond, for they know that Gods justice alloweth this society, and embraceth this conjunction of the body and soule, yea so farre as to make the body capable of everlasting rewards.  And that God beholds the whole man to worke, and will have him entirely to receive either the punishment or the recompence, according to his demerits.  The Peripatetike Sect (of all Sects the most sociable) attributeth this onely care unto wisdome, in common to procure and provide the good of these two associated parts: and declareth other sects to have partialized overmuch, because they had given themselves to the full consideration of this commixture; this one for the body, this other for the soule, with one like error and oversight, and had mistaken their subject, which is man; {proper_study+} and their guide, which in generall they avouched to be Nature.  The first distinction that hath beene amongst men, and the first consideration that gave preheminences to some over others, it is very likely it was the advantage of beauty. 

     ----- agros divisere atque dedere
Pro facie cuiusque et viribus ingenioque:
Nam facies multum valuit virisque vigebant./1

They lands divided, and to each man shared
As was his face, his strength, his wit compared,
For face and strength were then
Much priz'd amongst men.

Ipse inter primos praestanti corpore Turnus
Vertitur, arma tenens, et toto vertice suprit est./2

Turnus, a goodly man, mongst them that led,
Stood arm'd, then all they higher by the head.

hominum:/1  'In favor beautiful above the sonnes of men. And Plato wisheth beautie to be joyned unto temperance and fortitude in the preservers of his Commonwealth.' Is it not a great spite, if being amongst your owne servants, a stranger commeth to yourselfe to ask you where your Lord or Master is?  And that you have nothing but the remainder of a capping, which is as well put off to your Barber, or to your Secretarie? As it happened to poore Philopoemen, who having left his company behind, and comming alone into a house where he was expresly looked for, his hostess, who knew him not, and saw him to be so il-favored a fellow, employed him to help her maides draw water, and to mend the fire for the service of Philopoemen.  The gentlemen of his traine being come and finding him so busily at work (for he failed not to fulfil his hostesses commandement, enquired of him what he did, who answered,' I pay the penaltie of my unhandsomnesse. Other beauties are for women.  The beautie of a handsome comely tallnesse is the only beautie of men.  Where lownesse and littlenesse is, neither the largenesse nor roundnesse of a forehead, nor the whitenesse nor lovelinesse of the eyes, nor the pretty fashion of a nose, nor the slendernes of the eare, littlenesse of the mouth, order and whitenesse of teeth, smooth thicknesse of a beard, browne like a chesse-nut, well-curled and upstanding haire, just proportion of the head, freshnes of colour, the cheereful aspect of a pleasing face, the sweet-smelling of a body, nor the well decorated composition of all limmes, can make a handsome beauteous man.  As for me, I am of a strong and well compacted stature, my face is not fat but full, my complexion betweene joviall and melancholy, indifferently sanguine and hot.

Vnde rigent setis mihi crura, et sector villis:/2

Whereby my legs and brest,
With rough haire are opprest.

My health is blith and lustie, though well-stroken in age, seldome troubled with diseases:  Such I was, for I am now engaged in the approaches of age, having long since past over forty yeares. {usthem+}

      ------minutatim vires et robur adultum
Frangit, et in partem pejorem liquitur aetas./1

By little and a little age breakes strength,
To worse and worse declining melts at length.

Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes./2

Yeares as they passe away,
Of all our things make prey.

horse; nor handsomely array a hawke on my fist, nor cast her off, or let her flie, nor could never speake to dogges, to birds, or to horses. The conditions of my body are, in fine, very well agreeing with those of my minde, wherein is nothing lively, but onely a compleate and constant vigor.  I endure labour and paine, yet not very well, unlesse I carry myselfe unto it, and no longer than my desire leadeth and directeth me.

Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem./1

While earnestnesse for sport or gaine,
Sweetly deceives the sowrest paine,

     ----- Tanti mihi non sit opaci
Omnis arena
Tagi, quodgue in mare volvitur aurum:/2

So much I weigh not shadow Tagus sande,
Nor gold that roules into the Sea from land,

would have taken as a plancke to passe over to search, to agitation, and to unquietness.  And as I have sought for nothing, so I have taken nothing.

Non agimur tumidis venus Aquilone secundo,
Non tamen adversis aetatem ducimus austi is:
Viribus, ingenio, specte, virtute, loco, re,
Extremi primorum, extremis usque priores./1

With full sailes prosp'rous winde, we do not drive,
Nor yet with winde full in our teeth doe live.
In strength, in wit, in vertue, shape, goods, place,
Last of the first, before the last we pace.

     ----- haec nempe super sunt,
Quae dominum fallant, quae prosint furibus./1

This remnant of accompts I have,
Which may deceive Lords, help a Knave.

exercise and turmoile me no more, after the uncertaintie of their mending: and which even at the first cast, drive me directly into sufferance.

      ------ dubiae plus torquent mala./1

Evils yet in suspence,
Doe give us more offence.

into credite and reputation, in the beginning of their progresse I could never have done it.

      ------ Spem pretio non emo,/1

Expence of present pay
For hope, I do not lay.

Alter remus aquas, alter tibi radat arenas./2

Keeps water with one oare,
With th' other grate the shore.

Capienda rebus in malis preceps via est./3

A headlong course is best,
When mischiefes are addrest.

Cui sit conditio dulcis, sine pulvere palmae./4

Who like it well to beare the prise,
But take no toile in any wise.

of Lord Oliver, whilome Chancellor of France, who said that Frenchmen might be compared to apes, who, climbing up a tree, never cease skipping from bough to bough, till they come to the highest, where they shew their bare tailes.

Turpe est quod nequeat capiti committere pondus,
Et pressum inflexo mox dare terga genu./1

'Tis shame, more than it can well beare, on head to packe,
And thereby soone oppress't with bended knee flie backe.

Nunc si depositum non inficiatur amicus,
Si reddat veterem cum tota aeruigine follem,
Prodigiosa fides, et Thuscis digna libellis,
Quaeque coronatad lustrari debeat agna./2

If now a friend deny not what was laid in trust,
If wholly he restore th'old bellowes with their rust:
A wondrous trust, to be in chronicles related,
And should with sacrifice, as strange, be expiated.

They performe honourable combates, both publike and private.  They batter and defend townes and cities in our present warres.  A Prince smothereth his cornmendation amid this throng.  Let him shine over others with humanities, with truth, loyalties temperance, and above all with justice, markes now adaies rare, unknowne, and exiled.  It is only the peoples will wherewith he may effect what he pleaseth: and no other qualities can allure their will so much as they as being the profitablest for them:  Nihil est tam populare quam bonitas. 'Nothing is so popular as goodnesse+ is.  By this proposition I had been a rare areat man as by that of certaine ages past I am now a pigyney and popular man; in which it was common.  If stronger qualities did not concurre with all, to see a man temperate in his revenges, milde in revenging of offences, religious in keeping of his word, neither double nor over tractable, nor applying his faith to others will, or to every occasion. {list_of_virtues+} I would rather let all affaires go to wracke than breake my word for their availe.  For touching this new-found vertue of faining and dissimulation, which now is so much in credit, I hate it to the death: and of all vices I finde none that so much witnesseth demissenesse and basenesse of heart. {PlainDealer+!} It is a coward and servile humour for a man to disguise and bide himselfe under a maske, and not dare to shew himselfe as he is.  Thereby our men address themselves to trecherie: being trained to utter false words, they make no conscience to breake them.  A generous minde ought not to belie his thoughts, but, make shew of his inmost parts: there all is good, or at least all is humane. Aristotle thinkes it an office of magnanimitie to hate and love openly, to judge and speake with all libertie, and never (though prise of truth goe on it) to make esteeme either of the approbation or reprobation of others.  Appolonius said it was for servants to lie, and for free-men to speake truth.  It is the chiefe and fundamentall part of vertue. {PlainDealer!+!} Shee must be loved for her owne sake.  He that speaketh truth because he is bound to doe so, and for that he 

serveth, and that feares not to tell a lie when it little importeth another man, is not sufficiently true.  My mind of her own complexion detesteth falsehood and hateth to think on it.  I feele an inward bashfulnes and a stinging remorse if at any time it scape me, as sometimes it doth if unpremeditated occasions surprise me.  A man must not alwaies say all he knowes, {Kent+} for that were follie: but what a man speakes ought to be agreeing to his thoughts, otherwise it is impiety.  I know not what benefit they expect that ever faine, and so uncessantly dissemble: except it be not to be beleeved, even when they speake truly.  That may deceive men once or twice, but to make a profession to cary it away smoothly, and as some of our Princes have done, to boast that if their shirt were privie to their secret and true cogitanons, they would burne it: which was the saying of ancient Metellus Macedonicus and that he who cannot dissemble cannot reign, serves but only to warne those who have to deale with them, that what they say is but untruth and dissimulation:  Quo quis versutior et callidior est hoe invisior et suspectior, detracta opinione probitatis:/1 'The finer-headed and more subtle-brained a man is, the more is he hated and suspected if once the opinion of honesty be taken from him.' It were great simplicity for a man to suffer himselfe to be mis-led either by the lookes or wordes of him that outwardly professeth what he is not inwardly, as did Tiberius. And I know not what share such people may challenge in the commerce of men, never producing any thing that may be taken for good paiment.  He who is disloyall to truth is likewise false against lying.  Such as in our daies; in the establishing of a Princes dutie, have only considered the good and felicitie of his affaires, and preferred the same before the respect of his faith and conscience, would say something to a Prince whose affaires fortune hath so disposed that with once breaking and falsifying of his word he might for ever confirme and establish them.  But it goeth otherwise. A man may more than once come 1 CIC.  Off. 1. i. 

to such a bargaine.  A man during his life concludeth more than one peace or treatie.  The commodity or profit that inviteth them to the first disloyalty (and daily some offer themselves, as to all other trecheries), sacrileges, murders, rebellions, treasons, are undertaken for some kinde of profit. But this first gaine brings ever infinite losses and dangers with it: casting this Prince from-out all commerce and meanes of negotiation by the example of this infidelitie.  Soliman of the Ottomans race (a race little regarding the keeping of promises or performance of covenants), at what time he caused his armie to land at Otranto (I being then but a childe), having knowne that Mercurin of Gratinara, and the inhabitants of Castro, were detained prisoners after the towne was yeelded, contrary to that which by his captaines had beene capitulated with them, he sent word they should be released, and that having otherweighty enterprises in hand in that country, such disloyalty, although it had apparance of great and present benefit, yet in time to come it would bring a distrust and reproch of infinite prejudice. As for me, I had rather be importunate and indiscreet than a flatterer+ and a dissembler.  I allow a man may entermingle some point of fiercenesse and wilfulnesse to keepe himselfe so entire and open as I am, without consideration of others.  And mee seemeth I become a little more free where I should be lesse, and that by the opposition of respect I grow earnest.  It may also be that for want of art I follow mine owne nature.  Presenting to the greater sort the very same licence of speech and boldnes of countenance that I bring from my house:  I perceive how much it inclineth towards indiscretion and incivilitie+. But although I be so fashioned, my spirit is not sufficiently yeelding to avoid a sudden question, or to scape it by some winding, nor to dissemble a truth, nor have I memory able to continue it so fained, nor assurance sufficient to maintaine it; and I play the braggard+ through feeblenesse.  And therefore I apply my selfe to ingenuitie, {simplicitie+} and ever to speake truth and what I think; both by complexion 

and by intention; leaving the successe thereof unto fortune.  Aristippus said that the chiefest commoditie he reaped by philosophy was, that he spake freely and sincerely to all men.  Memory is an instrument of great service, and without which, judgement wil hardly discharge his duty, wherof I have great want.  What a man will propose unto me, he must doe it by peecemeales: for, to answer to a discourse that hath many heads, lieth not in my power. I cannot receive a charge, except I have my writing tables about me: and if I must remember a discourse of any consequence, be it of any length, I am driven to this vile and miserable necessitie, to learne every word I must speake by rote; otherwise I should never do it wel or assuredly, for feare my memory should in my greatest need faile me; which is very hard unto me, for I must have three houres to learne three verses.  Moreover, in any long discourse, the libertie or authoritie to remoove the order, to change a word, uncessantly altering the matter, makes it more difficult to be confirmed in the authors memory.  And the more I distrust it, the more it troubleth me.  It serveth me better by chance, and I must carelesly sollicite her, for if I urge her, she is astonished; and if it once beginne to waver, the more I sound her, the more entangled and intricate she proveth. She wil wait upon me when she list, not when I please.  And what I feele in my memories I feele in many other parts of mine.  I eschew cornmandement, duty, and compulsion.  What I doe easily and naturally, if I resolve to doe it by expresse and prescribed appointment, I can then doe it no more. Even in my body, those parts that have some liberty, and more particular jurisdiction, doe sometimes refuse to obey me if at any time I appoint and enjoine them to doe me some necessarie services.  This forced and tyrannicall preordinance doth reject them, and they either for spight or feare shrinke and are quailed.  Being once in a place where it is reputed a barbarous discourtesie not to pledge those that drinke to you, where although I were used with al libertie, in favor

of certaine ladies that were in company, according to the fashion of the country, I would needs play the good fellow.  But it made us all mery; for the threats and preparation, that I should force my selfe beyond my naturall custome, did in such sort stop and stuffe my throat, that I was not able to swallow one drop, and was barr'd of drinking all the repast. I found my selfe glutted and ful of drink by the overmuch swilling that my imagination had fore-conceived.  This effect is more apparant in those whose imagination is more vehement and strong: yet it is naturall: and there is no man but shall sometimes have a feeling of it.  An excellent archer being condemned to death, was offered to have his life saved if he would but shew any notable triall of his profession, refused to make proofe of it; fearing lest the contention of his will should make him to misse-direct his hand, and that in lieu of saving his life, he might also lose the reputation+ he had gotte in shooting in a bow.  A man whose thoughts are busie about other matters, shall very neere within an inch keepe and alwaies hit one selfe same number and measure of paces, in a place where he walketh; but if heedily he endevour to measure and count them, he shall finde that what he did by nature and chance, he cannot doe it so exactly by desseign. {sprezzatura+} My library (which, for a countrey library, may passe for a very faire one) is seated in a corner of my house: if any thing come into my minde, that either I must goe seeke or write in it, for feare I should forget it in crossing of my court, I must desire some other body to remember the same for me.  If speaking, I embolden my selfe never so little to digresse from my discourse, I do ever lose it; which makes me to keepe my selfe in my speech, forced, neere and close.  Those that serve me, I must ever call them either by their office or countrey: for I finde it very hard to remember names.  Well may I say it hath three syllables, that its sound is harsh, or that it beginneth or endeth with such a letter.  And should I live long, I doubt not but I might forget mine own name, as some others 

have done heretofore.  Messala Corvinus lived two yeeres without any memory at all, which is also reported of George Trapezoncius.  And for mine owne interest, I doe often ruminate what manner of life theirs was, and whether wanting that part, I shall have sufficient to maintaine my selfe in any good sort: which looking neere unto I feare that this defect, if it be perfect, shall lose all the functions of my soule.

Plenus rimarum sum, hac atque illac perfluo./1

I am so full of holes, I cannot hold,
I runne out ev'ry way, when tales are told.

should greatly put me to my shifts, and I could hardly tell it him. Yet have I not begged them, but at famous and very wel knowen gates, which though they were rich in themselves, did never please me, unlesse they also came from rich and honourable hands, and that authority concurre with reason.  It is no great marvell if my booke follow the fortune of other bookes, and my memory forgo or forget as wel what I write as what I reade: and what I give as well as what I receive.  Besides the defect of memory, I have others, which much further my ignorance.  My wit is dull and slow, the least cloud dimmeth it, so that (for example sake) I never proposed riddle unto it (were it never so easie) that it was able to expound.  There is no subtilitie so vaine but confounds me.  In games wherein wit may beare a part, as of chesse, of card, of tables, and others, I could never conceive but the common and plainest draughts.  My apprehension is very sluggish and gloomy; but what it once holdeth the same it keepeth fast: and for the time it keepes it, the same it embraceth generally, strictly, and deepely. My sight is quicke, sound, perfect, and farre-seeing, but easily wearied if much charged or emploied.  By which occasion I can have no great commerce with books but by others service which reade unto me.  Plinie the younger can instruct those that have tried it, how much this fore-slowing importeth those that give themselves to this occupation.  There is no spirit so wretched or so brutish wherein some particular facultie is not seene to shine; and none so low buried, but at one hole or other it will sally out sometimes. And how it commeth to passe that a minde blinde and slumbering in all other things, is in some particular effects, lively, cleare, and excellent, a man must inquire of cunning masters.  But those are the faire spirits which are universall, open and readie to all, if not instructed, at least to be instructed.  Which I alleage to accuse mine: for, be it either through weakenesse, or retchlessenesse (and to be carelesse of that which lieth at our feet, which wee have in our hands, which 

neerest concerneth the use of life, is a thing farre from my dogma or doctrine) there is none so simple or so ignorant as mine, in divers such common matters, and of which, without imputation or shame, a man should never be ignorant; whereof I must needs tell some examples.  I was borne and brought up in the countrie, and amidst husbandry:  I have since my predecessours quit me the place and possession of the goods I enjoy, both businesse and husbandry in hand, I cannot yet cast account either with penne or counters. There are divers of our French coines I know not: nor can I distinguish of one graine from another, be it in the field or in the barne, unlesse it be very apparant: nor do I scarcely know the difference betweene the cabige or letuce in my garden.  I understand not the names of the most usuall tooles about husbandrie, nor of the meanest principles of tillage, which most children know.  I was never skilfull in mechanicall arts, nor in traffike or knowledge of merchandise, nor in the diversitie and nature of fruits, wines, or cates, nor can I make a hawke, physike a horse, or teach a dogge. And since I must make ful shew of my shame or ignorance, it is not yet a moneth since that I was found to be ignorant wherto leven served to make bread withal; or what it was to cunne wine. {amateur+} The Athenians were anciently wont to thinke him very apt for the mathematikes, that could cunningly order or take up a faggot of brushe wood?  Verily a man might drawe a much contrarie conclusion from me: for let me have all that may belong to a kitchin, yet shall I be ready to starve for hunger.  By these parts of my confession one may imagine divers others to my cost and detriment. But howsoever I make myselfe knowne, alwaies provided it be as I am, indeed I have my purpose.  And I excuse not my selfe that I dare set downe in writing so base and frivolous matters as these.  The basenesse of the subject forceth me thereunto.  Let who so list accuse my project, but not my progresse. So it is that without being warned of others I see very well how little this weigheth or is worth, and I perceive the fonduesse of my purpose. 

It is sufficient that my judgement is not dismayed or distracted, whereof these be the Essaies.

Nasutus sis usque licet, sis denique nasus
Quantum noluerit ferre rogatus Atlas:
Et possis ipsum tu deridere Latinum,
Non potes, in nugas dicere plura meas,
Ipse ego quam dixi; quid dentem dente juvabit
Rodere? carne opus est, si satur esse velis.
Ne perdas operam, qui se mirantur, in illos
Virus habe, nos haec novimus esse nihil./1

Suppose you were long-nos'd, suppose such nose you weare
As Atlas, if you should intreat him, would not beare,
That you in flouting old Latinus can be fine.
Yet can you say no more about these toyes of mine,
Then I have said; what boote tooth with a tooth to whet?
You must have fleshe, if you to glut your selfe be set.
Loose not your paines; 'gainst them who on themselves are doting
Keepe you your sting: we know these things of ours are nothing.

Ne si, ne no, nel cuor mi suona intiero./2

Nor yea, nor nay, sounds clearely in my heart.

     I can maintaine an opinion, but not make choiee of it: for in Humane things what side soever a man leaneth on, many apparences prevent themselves unto us, which confirm us in them: and Chrysippus the Philosopher was wont to say that he would learne nothing else of his maisters, Zeno and Cleanthes, but their doctrines simply: for proofes and reasons he would finde enough of himselfe.  Let me turne to what side I will, I ever finde sufficient matter and liklyhood to keepe my selfe unto it.  Thus keepe I doubt and liberty to my selfe, to chuse, untill occasion urge me, and then (to confesse the truth), as the common saying is, I cast my feather to the wind, and yeeld to fortunes mercie.  A verie light inclination and a slender circumstance carries me away.

Dum in dubio est animus paulo momento huc atque illuc impellitur./1

While mind is in suspence, with small ado,
'Tis hither, thither, driven fro and to.

mine; the foundation and platforme of which I flnd to be very slippery; yet am I not very easie to change, forsomuch as I perceive a like weaknesse in contrary opinions.  Ipsa consuetudo assentiendi periculosa esse videtur, et lubrica:/1
'The very custome of assenting seemeth hazardous and slippery:'  Namely in politik affaires, wherein is a large field open to all motions, and to contestation:

Iusta pari premitur veluti cum pondere libra,
Prona nec hac plus parte sedet, nec surgit ab illa./2
As when an even skale with equall weight is peized,
Nor falles it downe this way, or is it that way raised.

Caedimur, et totidem plagis consumimus hostem./3

Wee by our foes are beaten, if not slain,
Wee with as many strokes waste them againe;

game as your fellow: provided you affront not the apparant and plain principles.  And therefore (according to my humour) in publike affaires there is no course so bad (so age and constancie be joyned unto it) that is not better then change and alteration. {rightist+} Our manners are exceedingly corrupted, and with a marvellous inclination bend towards worse and worse. Of our lawes and customes many are barbarous, and divers monstrous; notwithstanding, by reason of the difficultie to reduce us to better estate, and of the danger of this subversion, if I could fixe a pegge into our wheel+ and stay it where it now is, I would willingly doe it.

      ------nunquam adeo foedis adeoque pudendis
Ultimur exemplis, ut non peiora suiper sint./1

Examples of so filthy shamefull kinde
We never use, but worse remaines behind.

contradiction.  It is an infirmity that is never where it is seene, it is very strong and fast-holding, but yet pierced and dissipated by the first beame of the patients sight, as doth the sunnes raies scatter and disperse a gloomie mist.  For a man to accuse himselfe were to excuse himselfe of that subject; and to condemne himselfe, an absolving of himselfe.  There was never so base a porter, nor so silly a woman, but thought he had sufficient wit for his provision.  We easily know in others the advantage of courage, of bodily strength, of experience of disposition, and of beauties but we never yeeld the advantage of judgement to any body: and the reasons which part from the simple'naturall discourse in others, wee thinke that had we but looked that way, wee had surely found them.  The skill, the knowledge, the stile, and such like parts which we see in strange workes, we easily perceive whether they exceede ours; but the meere productions of wit and understanding every man deemeth it lyeth in him to meete with the very like, and doth hardly perceive the weight and difficultie of it, except (and that very scarcelv) in an extreame and incomparable distance.  And he that should clearely see the height of a strangers judgement, would come and bring his unto it.  Thus is it a kinde of exercising whereof a man may hope but for meane commendation and small praise, and a manner of composition of little or no harme at all.  And then for whom do you write? The wiser sort, unto whom belongeth bookish jurisdiction, know no other price but of doctrine, and avow no other proceeding in our wits but that of erudition and art.  If you have mistaken one Scipio for an other, what of any worth have you left to speake-of?  He that is ignorant of Aristotle (according to them) he is therewithall ignorant of himselfe.  Popular and shallow-beaded mindes cannot perceive the grace or comelinesse, nor judge of a smooth and quaint discourse.  Now these two kindes possess the world. The third, unto whose share you fall, of regular wits, and that are strong of themselves, is so rare that justly it hath neither name 

or ranke amongst us; he loseth halfe his time that doth aspire or endeavour to please it.  It is commonly said that the justest portion nature hath given us of the graces is that of sense and understanding: for there is no man but is contented with the share she hath allotted him.  Is it not reason?  He who should see beyond that, should see further then his sight. I perswade my selfe to have good and sound opinions: but who is not so perswaded of his owne:  One of the best trials I have of it is the small esteeme I make of myselfe: for had they not been well assured they would easily have suffered themselves to be deceived by the affection I beare unto my selfe, singular, as he who bring it almost all unto my selfe, and that spill but a little besides.  All that which others distribute thereof unto an infinite number of acquaintances, to their glorie and greatnesse, I referre to the repose of my spirit and to myselfe.  What else-where escapes of it is not properly by the appointment of my discourse:

      ------ mihi nempe valere et vivere doctus./1

Well learn'd in what concerneth me,
To live, and how in health to be.

      ------ nemo in sese tentat descendere./2
No man attempteth this Essay,
Into himselfe to finde the way.

and this free humour I have, not very easily to subject my beliefe, I owe especially unto my selfe, for the most constant and generall imaginations I have are those which (as one would say) were borne with me: they are naturall unto me, and wholy mine.  I produced them raw and simple, of a hardy and strong production, but somewhat troubled and imperfect: which I have since established and fortified by the authoritie of others, and by the sound examples of ancients+, with whom I have found my selfe conformable in judgement: those have assured me of my hold-fast of them, and have given me both the enjoying and possession thereof more absolute and more cleare. The commendation which every man seekes after for a vivacitie and promptitude of wit, I chalenge the same by the order of a notable and farre-sounding action, or of some particular sufficiencie; I pretend it by the order, correspondencie, and tranquillitie of opinions and customes.  Omnino si quidquam est decorum, nihil est profecto magis quam aequabilitas universae vitae, tum singularum actionum: quam conservare non possis, sit aliorum nat uram imitans, omittas tuam: 'Clearely if any thing bee decent for a man, nothing is more than an even carriage and equability of his whole life, and every action therein: which you cannot uphold if following the nature of others you let passe your owne.  Behold here then how far forth I finde my selfe guilty of that first part I said to be in the vice of presumption.  Concerning the second, which consisteth in not esteeming sufficiently of others, I wot not whether I can so well excuse my selfe; for whatsoever it cost me, I intend to speake what is of it.  It may be the continuall commerce I have with ancient humours, and the idea of those rich mindes of former ages doth bring me out of liking and distaste both of others and of my selfe, or that in truth we live in an age which produceth things but meane and indifferent.  So it is that I know nothing worthy any great admiration. {ancients+} Also I know not many men so familiarly as I should to be able to judge of them: and those with whom the quality of my condition 

doth ordinarily make me conversant are for the most part such as have little care for the manuring of the soule, and to whom nothing is proposed for chiefe felicitie but honour+, and for absolute perfection but valour+. Whatsoever I see or beauteous or worthy in any other man, I willingly commend and regard; yea, and I often endeare my selfe with what I thinke of it, and allow my selfe to lie so farre forth: for I cannot invent a false subject. I willingly witness with my friends what I finde praise-worthy in them. And of an inch of valour, I willingly make an inch and a halfe; but to lend them qualities they have not, I cannot; and openly to defend their imperfections, I may not: yea, bee they mine enemies, I shall sincerely give them their due in witnessing their worth or honour.  My affection may change; my judgement never.  And I confound not my quarrell with other circumstances that are impertinent and belong not unto it.  And I am so jealous of the liberty of my judgement, that for what passion soever I can hardly quit it.  I wrong my selfe more in lying+ than him of whom I lie.  This commendable and generous custome of the Persian nation is much noted; they speake very honourably and justly of their mortall enemies, and with those with whom they were at deadly fude and warre, so farre forth as the, merit of their vertue deserved.  I know divers men who have sundry noble and worthy parts; some wit, some courage, some dexteritie, some conscience, some a readinesse in speech, some one science, and some another: but of a great man in generall, and that hath so many excellent parts together, or but one in such a degree of excellencie as hee may thereby be admired, or but compared to those of former ages whom we honour, my fortune hath not permitted me to see one.  And the greatest I ever knew living (I meane of naturall parts of the minde, and the best borne) was Estienne de la Boetie.  Verily it was a compleat minde, and who set a good face and shewed a faire countenance upon all matters; a minde after the old stampe, and which had fortune therewith beene pleased, would no doubt have brought forth wondrous effects, 

having by skill and study added very much to his rich naturall gifts. But I know not how it comes to passe, and surely it doth so, there is, as much vanitie and weakenesse of understanding found in those that professe to have most sufficicncie, that will entermeddle with learned vocations, and with the charges that depend of books, as in any sort of people; whether it be because there is more required and expected at their hands, and common faults cannot be excused in them, or that the selfe- opinion of knowledge emboldeneth them the more to produce and discover themselves over-forward, whereby they lose and betray themselves.  As an artificer doeth more manifest his sottishnesse in a rich piece of worke which he hath in hand, if foolishly and against the rules of his trade he seeke to apply it and entermeddle, than in a vile and base one; and men are more offended at a fault or oversight in a statue of gold than in one of clay.  These doe as much when they set foorth things which in themselves and in their place would be good; for they employ them without discretion, honouring their memory at the cost and charge of their understanding: and doing honour to Cicero, to Galen, to Ulpian, and to Saint Jerome to make themselves ridiculous.  I willingly returne to this discourse of the fondnesse of our institution: whose aime hath beene to make us not good and wittie, but wise and learned.  She hath attained her purpose. lt hath not taught us to follow vertue and embrace wisdome: but made an impression in us of its Etymologie and derivation.{PlainDealer+} We can decline vertue, yet can we not love it.  If wee know not what wisdome is by effect and experience, wee know it by prattling and by rote.  We are not satisfied to know the race, the alliances, and the pedigrees of our neighbours, but we wil have them to be our friends and contract both conversation and intelligence with them:  It hath taught us the definitions, the divisions and distinctions of vertue, as of the surnames and branches of a genealogie, without having other care to contract practise of familiaritie or private acquaintance betweene us and it.  She hath appointed 

us for our learning, not bookes that have sounder and truer opinions, but volumes that speake the best Greeke or Latine; and amongst her choice words hath made the vainest humours of antiquitie to glide into our conceits. A good institution changeth judgement and manners, as it hapned to Polemon. This dissolute young Graecian going one day by chance to heare a lecture of Xenocrates, where he not onely marked the eloquence and sufficiencie of the reader, and brought not home the knowledge of some notable thing, but a more apparant and solide fruit, which was the sodaine change and amendment of his former life.  Who ever heard such an effect of our discipline?

     ----- faciasne quod olim
Nutatus Polemon, ponas insignia morbi
Fasciolas, cubital, focalia?  Potus ut ille
Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas,
Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri?/1

Can you doe as did Polemon reformed,
Cast-off your sicknes signes, which you deformed,
Your bolsters, mufflers, swathes?  As he drinklinde,
His drunken garland covertly declinde,
By speech of fasting reader disciplinde?

of France.  Poesie hath likewise in mine opinion had hir vogue and credit in our age.  We have store of cunning and able men in that profession:  Aurate, Beza, Buchanan, L'Hospital, Mont-dore, and Turnebus.  As for French-men, I thinke they have attained the highest degree of perfection that can or ever shall be, and in those parts wherein Ronsart and excellent Bellay have written, I thinke they are not farre short of the ancient perfection. Adrianus Turnebus knew more, and better what he knew, than any man in his age or of many ages past.  The lives of the late Duke of Alva and our Constable+ Mommorencie have beene very noble, and have had sundrie rare resemblancies of fortune.  But the worthily-faire and glorious death of the last in the full sight of Paris and of his King, for their service against his nearest friends and alliance in the front of an armie, victorious through his conduct of it, and with an handstroke in that old age of his, deserveth in mine opinion to be placed and registred amongst the most renouned and famous accidents of my times.  As also the constant goodness the mildnes in behaviour, and conscionable fecility of Monsieur de la Noue in such an injustice of armed factions (a very schoole of treason, of inhumanitie and brigandage) wherein he was ever brought up, a worthie and famous man of warre+ and most experienced in his profession.  I have greatly pleased my selfe in publishing in sundrie places the good hope I have of Marie de Gournay le Lars, my daughter in alliance, and truely of me beloved with more then a fatherly love, and as one of the best parts of my being enfeofed in my home and solitariness.  There is nothing in the world I esteem more then hir.  If childe-hoode may presage any future successes hir minde shal one day be capable of many notable things, and amongst others, of the perfection of this thrice-sacred amitie+ whereunto we read not, hir sex could yet attaine; the sinceritie and soliditie of her demeanors are therein already sufficient; hir kind affection towards me is more than superabounding and such indeede as nothing more can be wished unto it, so 

that the apprehension which she hath of my aproching end, by reason of the fiftie five years {usthem+} wherein her lisp hath beene to know me, would somewhat lesse cruelly trouble hir.  The judgement she made of my first Essayes, being a woman of this age so yong, alone where shee dwelleth, and the exceeding vehemencie wherewith she loved me and long time by the onely esteem which before ever she saw me, she had by them conceived of me she desired me, is an accident most worthy consideration.  Other vertues have had little or no currantnesse at all in this age: but valour is become popular by reason of our civill warres, and in this part there are minds found amongst us very constant, even to perfection and in great number, so that the choice is impossible to be made.  Loe heere what hitherto I have knowen of any extraordinary and not common greatnesse. 

YEA but, will some tell me, this desseigne in a man to make himselfe a subject to write of might be excused in rare and famous men, and who by their reputation had bred some desire in others of their acquaintance. It is true, I confesse it, and I know that a handicraftsman will scarcely looke off his worke to gaze upon an ordinary man: whereas to so a notable great person come into a towne, he will leave both worke and shop.  It ill- beseemeth any man to make himselfe knowen, onely he excepted that hath somewhat in him worthy imitation, and whose life and opinions may stand as a pattern to all.  Caesar and Xenophon have had wherewithall to ground and establish their narration in the greatnesse of their deedes as on a just and solid groundworke.  So are the jornall bookes of Alexander the great, the Commentaries which Augustus, Cato, Brutus, Sylla, and divers others had left of their gests, greatly to be desired.  Such mens images are both beloved and studied, be they either in brasse or stone.  This admonition is most true, but it concerneth me very little.

Non recito cuiquam: nisi amicis, idque rogatus,      Non ubivis, coramve quibuslibet.  In medio qui
Scripta foro recitant sunt multi, quique lavantes./1

My writings I reade not, but to my friends, to any,
Nor each-where, nor to all, nor but desir'd, yet many
In market-place read theirs,
In bathes, in barbers-chaires.

     I erect not here a statue to be set up in the marketplace of a towne, or in a church, or in any other publike place:

Non equidem hoc studeo bullatis ut mihi nugis
Pagina turgescat:/1

I studle not, my written leaves should grow
Big-swolne with bubled toyes, which vaine breath's blow.

Secreti loquimur./2

We speake alone,
Or one to one.

for they cannot make so little accompt of me, as then I shal doe of them.  All the commerce I have in this with the world is that I borrow the instruments of their writing, as more speedy and more easie; in requitall whereof I may peradventure hinder the melting of some piece of butter in the market or a grocer from selling an ounce of pepper.

Ne toga cordyllis,ne penula desit olivis,/1

Lest fish-fry should a fit gowne want,
Lest cloakes should be for olives scant.

Et laxas scombris saepe dabo tunicas./2

To long-tail'd mackrels often I,
Will side-wide (paper) cotes apply.

other.  How often hath this busines diverted me from tedious and yrksome cogitations? (and all frivolous ones must bee deemed tedious and yrksome). Nature hath endowed us with a large faculty to entertaine our selves apart, and often calleth us unto it: to teach us that partly we owe our selves unto society+, but in the better part unto our selves.  To the end I may in some order and project marshall my fantasie even to dote and keepe it from loosing and straggling in the aire, there is nothing so good as to give it a body and register so many idle imaginations as present themselves unto it.  I listen to my humours and hearken to my conceits, because I must enroule them.  How often, being grieved at some action, which civility and reason forbad me to withstand openly, have I disgorged my selfe upon them here, not-without an intent of publike instruction?  And yet these poeticall rods,

Zon dessus l'oeil, zon sur le groin,
Zon sur le dos du Sagoin,

which is true and good, but also the false; so it be currant.  Our nation is long since taxed with this vice.  For Salvianus Massiliensis, who lived in the time of Valentinian the Emperour, saith that amongst French-men to lie and forsweare is no vice, but a manner of speach.  He that would endeare this testimonie might say, it is now rather deemed a vertue among them.  Men frame and fashion themselves unto it as to an exercise of honour; for dissimulation is one of the notablest qualities of this age.  Thus have I often considered whence this custome might arise, which we observe so religiously, that we are more sharpely offended with the reproach of this vice, so ordinary in us, than with any other; and that it is the extremest injury may be done us in words, to upbraid and repoach us with a lie.  Therein I find that it is naturall for a man to defend himselfe most from such defects as we are most tainted with.  It seemeth that if we but shew a motion of revenge, or are but moved at the accusation, we in some sort discharge ourselves of the blame of imputation; if we have it in effect, at least we condemne it in apparance.  May it not also be that this reproch seemes to enfold cowardice and faintnesse of hart?  Is there any more manifest than for a man to eate and deny his owne word?  What, to deny his word wittingly. To lie+ is a horrible filthy vice; and which an ancient writer setteth forth very shamefully, when he saith that whosoever lieth witnesseth that he contemneth God and therewithall feareth men.  It is impossible more richly to represent the horrour, the vilenesse and the disorder of it: for, what can be imagined so vile and base as to be a coward towards men and a boaster towards God?  Our intelligence being onely conducted by the way of the word: whoso falsifieth the same betraieth publike society.  It is the only instrument by meanes whereof our wils and thoughts are communicated: it is the interpretour of our soules:  If that faile us, we hold our selves no more, we enter-know one another no longer.  If it deceive us, it breaketh al our 

commerce, and dissolveth al bonds of our policies.  Certaine Nations of the new Indiaes (whose names we need not declare, because they are no more, for the desolation of this conquest hath extended it selfe to the absolute abolishing of names and ancient knowledge of places, with a marvellous and never the like heard example) {colonialism+} offered humane blood unto their Gods, but no other than that which was drawne from their tongues and eares for an expiation of the sinne of lying as well heard as pronounced. That good fellow Graecian said children were dandled with toies, but men with words.  Concerning the sundry fashions of our giving the lie, and the lawes of our honour in that and the changes they have received, I wil refer to another time to speake what I thinke and know of it, and if I can I will in the meane time learne at what time this custome tooke his beginning, so exactly to weigh and precisely to measure words, and tie our honour to them: for it is easie to judge that it was not anciently amongst the Romans and Graecians.  And I have often thought it strange to see them wrong and give one another the lie, and yet never enter into quarrell.  The lawes of their duty tooke some other course than ours.  Caesar is often called a thiefe, and sometimes a drunkard to his face.  We see the liberty of their invectives, which they write one against another:  I meane the greatest Chieftaines and Generals in war, of one and other nation, where words are onely retorted and revenged with words, and never wrested to further consequence. 

IT is ordinarily seene how good intentions, being managed without moderation, thrust men into most vicious effects.  In this controversie, by which France is at this instant molested with eivill warres, the best and safest side is no doubt that which maintained both the ancient religion and policy of the country.  Neverthelesse amongst the honest men that follow it (for my meaning is not to speake of those who use them as a colour, either to exercise their particular revenges, or to supply their greedy avarice, or to follow the favour of Princes: but of such as do it with a true zeale towards their religion, and an unfained holy affection, to maintaine the peace and uphold the state of their country), of those I say divers are seene, whome passion thrusts out of the bounds of reason, and often forceth them to take and follow unjust, violent and rash counsels.  Certaine it is, that when first our religion began to gaine authority with the lawes, its zeale armed many against all sorts of Pagane bookes, whereof the learned sort have a great losse.  My opinion is that this disorder hath done more hurt to learning than all the Barbarian flames.  Cornelius Tacitus is a sufficient testimonie of it, for, howbeit the Emperor Tacitus his kinsman had by expresse appointment stored all the libraries in the world with it, notwithstanding one onely entire copy could not escape the curious search of those who sought to abolish it, by reason of five or sixe vaine clauses contrary to our beleefe.  They have also had this easily to affoord false commendations to all the Emperours, that made
<Mont2-450> 

for us, and universally to condemne al the actions of those which were our adversaries, as may plainly be seene in Julian the Emperor, surnamed the Apostate; who in truth was a notable- rare-man, as he whose mind was lively endowed with the discourses of Philosophy, unto which he professed to conforme all his actions; and truely there is no kinde of vertue whereof he hath not left most notable examples.  In chastity (whereof the whole course of his life giveth a parant testimony) a like example unto that of Alexander and Scipio is read of him, which is, that of many wonderfull faire captive ladies brought before him, being even in the very prime of his age (for he was slain by the Parthians about the age of one and thirty yeares) he would not see one of them.  Touching justice, himselfe would take the paines to heare all parties: and although for curiosity sake, he would enquire of such as came before him what religion they were of, nevertables the enmitie he bare to ours did no whit weigh downe the ballance. Himselfe made sundrie good lawes, and revoked diverse subsidies and impositions, his predecessours before him had receaved.  We have two good historians as eye witnesses of his actions.  One of which (who is Marcellinus) in sundry places of his historie bitterly reprooveth this ordinance of his, by which he forbade schooles and interdicted all Christian rhetoricians and grammarians to teacb, saying he wished this his action might be buried under silence. It is very likely, if he had done anything else more sharpe or severe against us, he would not have forgot it, as he that was well affected to our side. Hee was indeede very severe against us, yet not a cruell enemy.  For, our people themselves report this historie of him that walking one day about the city of Calcedon Maris, Bishop thereof, durst call him wicked and traitor to Christ, to whom be did no other thing but answered thus: 'Goe, wretched man, weepe and deplore the losse of thine eyes;' to whom the Bishop replied: 'I thank Jesus Christ that be hath deprived me of my sight, that so I might not view thy impudent face;' 

affecting therby (as they say) a kind of Philosophicall patience.  So it is this part cannot be referred to the cruelties which he is said to have exercised against us.  He was (saith Eutropius, my other testimony) an enemy unto Christianity, but without shedding of bloud.  But to returne to his justice, he can be accused of nothing but of the rigors he used in the beginning of his Empire, against such as had followed the faction of Constantius, his predecessour.  Concerning sobriety, he never lived a souldiers kinde of life, and in time of peace would feed no otherwise than the one who prepared and enured himselfe to the austeritie of war.  Such was his vigilancie that he divided the night into three or foure parts, the least of which he allotted unto sleepe; the rest he employed in visiting the state of his army and his guards, or in study, for, amongst other his rare qualities, he was most excellent in al sorts of learning.  It is reported of Alexander the Great, that being laid downe to rest, fearing lest sleep should divert him from his thoughts and studies, he caused a bason to be set neere his bed side, and holding one of his hands out, with a brazen ball in it, that, if sleep should surprise him, loosing his fingers ends, the ball falling into the bason, might with the noyse rouse him from out his sleep.  This man had a mind so bent to what he undertook, and by reason of his singular abstinence so little troubled with vapours, that he might well have past this devise.  Touching military sufficiencie he was admirable in all parts belonging to a great Captaine.  So was he almost al his life time in continual exercise of war, and the greater part with us in France against the Almains and Franconians.  Wee have no great memory of any man that either hath seen more dangers, nor that more often hath made triall of his person.  His death hath some affinitie with that of Epaminondas, for being strucken with an arrow, and attempting to pull it out, he had surely done it, but that being sharpe-cutting, it hurt and weakened his hand.  In that plight he earnestly requested to be carryed forth in the middest of his army, that so 

he might encourage his souldiers, who without him courageously maintained the battel, until such time as darke night severed the armies he was beholding to philosophie for a singular contempt, both of himselfe and of all humane things.  He assuredly believed the eternitie of soules.  In matters of religion, he was vicious everywhere.  He was surnamed Apostata, because he had forsaken ours; notwithstanding, this opinion seemes to mee more likely, that he never took it to heart, but that for the obedience which he bare to the law he dissembled til he had gotten the empire into his hands.  He was so superstitious in his, that even such as lived in his time, and were of his owne religion, mocked him for it; and it was said that if he had gained the victory of the Parthians, he would have consumed the race or breede of oxen to satisfie his sacrifices.  He was also besotted with the art of soothsaying, and gave authority to all manner of prognostikes.  Amongst other things he spake at his death, he said he was much beholding to the Gods, and greatly thanked them that they had not suffered him to be slain sodainly or by surprize as having long before warned him both of the place and houre of his end; nor to die of a base and easie death, more beseeming idle and effeminate persons, nor of a lingering, languishing, and dolorous death; and that they had deemed him worthy to end his life so nobly in the course of his victories and in the flower of his glory.  There had before appeared a vision unto him, like unto that of Marcus Brutus, which first threatened him in Gaule, and afterward even at the point of his death presented it selfe to him in Persia.  The speach he is made to speak when he felt himselfe hurt, 'Thou hast vanquished, O Nazarean,' or; as some will have it, 'Content thy selfe, O Nazarean,' would scarce have beene forgotten, had it beene believed of my testimonies, who being present in the army, have noted even the least motions and words at his death, no more than certaine other wonders which they annex unto it.  But to return to my theame, he had long before (as saith Marcellinus) 

hatched Paganisme in his hart, but forsomuch as he saw al those of his armie to be Christians, he durst not discover himselfe.  In the end, when he found himselfe to be sufficiently strong, and durst publish his minde, he caused the Temples of his Gods to be opened, and by all meanes endeavoured to advance idolatrie.  And to attaine his purpose, having found in Constantinople the people very loose, and at ods with the Prelates of the Christian Church, and caused them to appeare before him in his pallace, he instantly admonished them to appease all their civill dissentions, and every one withotu hindrance or feare apply themselves to follow and serve religion.  Which he very carefully solicited, hoping this licence might encrease the factions and controversies of the division, and hinder the people from growing to any unity, and by consequence from fortifying themselves against him by reason of their concord and in one mind-agreeing intelligence: having by the cruelty of some Christians found that 'there is no beast in the world so much of man to be feared as man,' {Yahoo+} loe, here his very words, or very neare: wherewith this is worthy consideration, that the Emperor Julian useth the same receipt of libertie of conscience, to enkindle the trouble of civill dissention, which our Kings employ to extinguish.  It may be said on one side that, to give faction the bridle to entertaine their opinion is to scatter contention and sow division, and as it were to lend it a hand to augment and encrease the same: there being no barre or obstacle of lawes to bridle or hinder his course.  But on the other side it might also be urged that to give factions the bridle to uphold their opinion, is by that facilitie and ease the readie way to mollifie and release them, and to blunt the edge which is sharpned by rareness, novelties and difficultie.  And if for the honour of our Kings devotion, I believe better it is that since they could not doe as they would, they have fained to will what they could not. 

THE weaknes of our condition causeth that things in their naturall simplicitie and puritie cannot fall into our use.  The elements we enjoy are altered: metals likewise, yea gold, must be empaired with some other stuffe to make it fit for our service.  Nor vertue so simple which Ariston, Pyrrho, and Stoikes made the end of their life, hath been able to doe no good without composition: nor the Cirenaike sensualitie or Aristipian voluptuousness. 'Of the pleasures and goods we have, there is none exempted from some mixture of evill and incommoditie.

     ----- medio de fonte leporum
Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat./1
From middle spring of sweetes some bitter springs,
Which in the very flower smartly stings.

not with the price of some evill.  Travail and pleasure, most unlike in nature, are notwithstanding followed together by a kind of I wot not what natural conjunction.  Socrates saith that some God attempted to huddle together and confound sorrow and voluptuousnesse: but being unable to effect it, he bethought himselfe to couple them together, at least by the taile. Metrodorus said that in sadnesse there is some aloy of pleasure. {wdswth+} I knowe not whether he meant any thing else, but I imagine that for one to enure himselfe to melancholy, there is some kinde of purpose of consent and muttull delight:  I meane besides ambition, which may also be joyned unto it.  There is some shadow of delicacy and quaintnesse which smileth and fawneth upon us even in the lap of melancholy.  Are there not some complexions that of it make their nourishment?

      ------ est quaedam flere voluptas./1

It is some pleasure yet
With teares our cheekes to wet.

Minister veteris puer falerni
Ingere mi calices amariores:/2

Sir boy, my servitor of good old wine,
Bring me my cup thereof, bitter, but fine.

imagine man fraught with all the commodities may be wished, let us suppose all his severall members were for ever possessed with a pleasure like unto that of generation, even in the highest point that may be:  I finde him to sinke under the burden of his ease, and perceive him altogether unable to beare so pure, so constant, and so universall a sensuality.  Truely he flies when he is even upon the nicke, and naturally hasteneth to escape it, as from a step whereon he cannot stay or containe himselfe, and feareth to sinke into it.  When I religiously confesse my selfe unto my selfe, I finde the best good I have hath some vicious taint.  And I feare that Plato in his purest vertue (I that am as sincere and loyall an esteemer thereof, and of the vertues of such a stampe, as any other can possibly be) if he had neerely listened unto it (and sure he listened very neere) he would therein have heard some harsh tune of humane mixture, but an obscure tune, and onely sensible unto himselfe.  Man all in all is but a botching and party coloured worke.  The very lawes of Justice can not subsist without some commixture of injustice.  And Plato saith they undertake to cut off Hidraes heads that pretend to remove all incommodities and inconveniences from the lawes .  Omne magnum exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo, quod contra singulos utilitate publica rependitur:/1 'Every great example hath some touch of injustice which is requited by the common good against particulars,' saith Tacitus.  It is likewise true that for the use of life and service of publike society there may be excesse in the purity and perspicuity of our spirits.  This piercing brightnes hath overmuch subtility and curiositie. They should be made heavy and dull io make them the more obedient to example and practice, and they must be thickned and obscured to proportion them to this shady and terrestriall life.  Therefore are vulgar and lesse wire drawne wits found to be more fit and happy in the conduct of affaires. And the exquisite and high-raised opinions of Philosophy unapt and unfit to
-----
1 TACIT.  Ann. 1. xiv.  Cassi. 

exercise.  This Sharpe vivacity of the spirit, and this supple and restlesse volubility troubleth our negotiations.  Humane enterprises should be managed more grosely and superficially, and have a good and great part of them left for the rights of fortune.  Affaires need not be sifted so nicely and so profoundly.  A man looseth himselfe about the considerations of so many contrary lustres and diverse formes.  Volutantibus res inter se pugnantes, obtorpuerant animi:/1  'Their mindes were astonished while they revolved things so different.' It is that which our elders report of Simonides; because his imagination concerning the question Hieron the King had made unto him (which the better to answer he had diverse dayes allowed him to thinke of it) presented sundry subtil and sharpe considerations unto him; doubting which might be the likeliest; he altogether dispaireth of the truth.  Whosoever searcheth all the circumstances and embraceth all the consequences thereof hindereth his election.  A meane engine doth equally conduct and sufficeth for the executions of great and little weights.  It is commonly seene that the best husbands and the thriftiest are those who cannot tell how they are so: and that these cunning arithmeticians doe seldome thrivebyit.  I know a notable pratler and an excellent blasoner of all sorts of husbandry and thrift who hath most pitteously let ten thousand pound sterling a yeare passe from him.  I know another who saith he consulteth better than any man of his counsell, and there cannot be a properer man to see unto or of more sufficiencie; notwithstanding, when be commeth to any execution, his owne servants finde he is far otherwise: this I say without mentioning or accounting his ill lucke.
-----
1 LIV.  Dec. iv. 1. ii. 

THE Emperour Vespasian, lying sicke of the disease whereof he died, omitted not to endeavour to understand the state of the empire; and lying in his bed, uncessantly dispatched many affaires of great consequence; and his physicians chiding him, as of a thing hurtfull of his health, he answered that an Emperour should die standing upright. {Lear+} Loe heere a notable saying, fitting my humour, and worthy a great prince.  Adrian the Emperour used the same afterward to like purpose.  And Kings ought often to be put in minde of it, to make them feele that this great charge which is given them of the commandement over so many men is no idle charge: and that there is nothing may so justly distaste a subject from putting himselfe in paine and danger for the service of his Prince then therewhilst to see him given to lazinesse, to base and vaine occupations, and to have care of his conservation, seeing him so carelesse of ours. {Lear+} If any shall go about to maintaine that it is better for a Prince to manage his wars by others then by himself.  Fortune will store him with sufficient examples of those whose lieutenants have achieved great enterprises, and also of some whose presence would have been more hurtfull then profitable.  But no vertuous and coragious Prince will endure to be entertained with so shame-full instructions.  Under colour of preserving his head (as the statue of a Saint) for the good fortune of his estate, they degrade him of his office, which is altogether in military+ actions, and declare him uncapable of it.  I know one would rather choose to be beaten then sleepe
<Mont2-459> 

whilst others fight for him; and who without jealousie never saw his men performe any notable act in his absence.  And Selim the first had reason to say that he thought victories gotten in the masters absence not to be complete.  So much more willingly would he have said that such a master ought to blush for shame, who onely by his name should pretend any share in it, having thereunto employed nothing but his thought and verbal direction. Nor that since in such a busines the advices and commandements which bring honour are only those given in the field and even in the action.  No Pilot exerciseth his office standing still.  The Princes of Otomans race (the chiefest race in the world in warlike fortune) have earnestly embraced this opinion.  And Baiazeth the second, with his sonne, who, ammusing themselves about sciences and other private home matters, neglected the same, gave diverse prejudiciall blowes unto their Empire.  And Amurath the third of that name, who now raigneth, following their example, beginneth very wel to feele their fortunes.  Was it not the King of England, Edward the third, who spake these words of our King Charles the fifth: 'There was never King that lesse armed himselfe; and yet Was never King that gave me so much so doe, and put me to so many plunges.  He had reason to thinke it strange, as an effect of fortune, rather than of reason.  And let such as will number the Kings of Castile and Portugall amongst the warlike and magnanimous conquerors, seeke for some other adherent then my selfe, forsomuch as twelve hundred leagues from their idle residence they have made themselves masters of both Indias, onely by the conduct and direction of their factors, of whom it would be knowne whether they durst but goe and enjoy them il person. The Emperour lulian said moreover that a Philosopher and gallant minded man ought not so much as breathe; that is to say, not to give corporall necessities, but what may not be refused them; ever holding both minde and bodie busied about notable, great and vertuous matters.  He was ashamed any man 

should see him spitte or sweate before people (which is also said of the Lacedemonian youths, and Xenophon reporteth it of the Persian) forsomuch as he thought that continuall travell, exercise, and sobriety should have concocted and dried up all such superfluities.  What Seneca saith shall not impertinently be alleadged here; that the ancient Romans kept their youth upright, and taught their children nothing that was to be learned sitting.  It is a generous desire to endevor to die both profitable and manlike: but the effect consisteth not so much in our good resolution, as in our good fortune.  A thousand have resolved to vanquish or to die fighting, which have missed both the one and other:  Hurts or imprisonment crossing their desseigne and yeelding them a forced kinde of life.  There are diseases which vanquish our desires and knowledge.  Fortune should not have seconded the vanitie of the Romane Legions, who by oath bound themselves either to die or conquer.  Victor, Marce Fabi, revertur ex acie:  Si fallo, Iovem patrem Gradinumque Martem aliosque iratos invoco Deos:/1  'I will, O Marcus Fabius, returne conqueror from the armie.  If in this I deceive you, I wish both great Iupiter and Mars, and t he other Gods offended with me.' The Portugalles report that in certain places of their Indian conquests they found some souldiers who with horrible execrations had damned themselves never to enter into any composition, but either they would be killed or remaine victorious; and in signe of their vowe wore their heads and beards shaven.  We may hazard and obstinate our selves long enough.  It seemeth that blowes shunne them who over-joyfully present themselves unto them; and unwillingly reach those that overwillingly goe to meet them and corrupt their end.  Some unable to lose his life by his adversaries force, having assaid all possible meanes, hath been enforced to accomplish his resolution, either to beare away the honour, or not to carry away his life, and even in the fury of the fight to put himselfe to death.  There are sundrie examples of it,
-----
1 Liv.  Doc. i. 1. ii. 

but note this one.  Philistus, chiefe Generall of yong Dionysius his navie against the Siracusans, presented them the battle, which was very sharply withstood, their forces being alike; wherein by reason of his prowesse he had the better in the beginning.  But the Siracusans flocking thicke and threefold about his gally to grapple_and board him, having performed many worthy exployts with his owne person to ridde himselfe from them, dispairing of all escape, with his owne hand deprived himselfe of that life which so lavishly and in vaine he had abandoned to his enemies hands. Moly Moluch, King of Fez, who not long since obtained that famous victory against Sebastian, King of Portugall, a notable victorie by reason of the death of three Kings, and transmission of so great a Kingdome to the crowne of Castile, chanced to be grievously sicke at what time the Portugales with armed hand entred his dominions, and afterwards, though he foresaw it approaching nearer unto death, empaired worse and worse.  Never did man more stoutly or more vigorously make use of an undanted courage than he. He found himselfe very weake to endure the ceremonious pompe which the Kings of that country, at their entrance into the camp are presented withall, which according to their fashion is full of all magnificence and state, and charged with all manner of action; and therefore he resigned that honour to his brother, yet resigned he nothing but the office of the chiefe Captaine. Himselfe most gloriously executed and most exactly perfourmed all other necessary duties and profitable offices: holding his body laid along his cowch, but his minde upright and courage constant, even to his last gasp and in some sort after. {Lear+} He might have undermined his enemies, who were fond-hardily advanced in his dominions, and was exceedingly grieved that for want of a little longer life and a substitute to manage the warre and affaires of so troubled a State, he was enforced to seeke a bloody and hazardous battel, having another pure and undoubted victory in hand. He notwithstanding managed the continuance of his 

sicknesse so miraculously that he consumed his enemy, diverted him from his sea-fleete and maritime places he held along the coast of Affricke, even untill the last day of his life, which by designe he reserved and employed for so great and renowned a fight.  He ranged his battel in a round, on every side besieging the Portugals army, which bending round and coming close, did not onely hinder them in the conflict of (which through the valour of that yong assailant King was very furious), since they were were to turnee their faces on all sides, but also hindred them from running away after the rowte.  And finding all issues seized, and all passages closed, they were constrained to turne upon themselves:  Coacervantur que non solum cede, sed etiam fuga: 'They fall on heapes not only by slaughter but by flight:' And so pel mell to heape on one anothers necke, preparing a most murtherous and compleate victory for the conquerors.  When he was even dying he caused himselfe to be carryed and haled where-ever neede called for him; and passing along the files he exhorted the captaines and animated the souldiers one after another.  And seeing one wing of the light to have the worst, and in some danger, no man could hold him, but he would needs, with his naked sword in hand, get on hors- backe striving by all possible meanes to enter the throng, his men holding him some by the bridle, some by the gowne, and some by the stirrops.  This toyle and straining of himselfe made an end of that Iittle remainder of his life; then was he laid on his bed: but comming to himselfe again, starting up as out of a swown, each other faculty failing him, he gave them warning to conceale his death (which was the necessariest commandement he could give his servants, lest the souldiers, bearing of his death, might fall into despaire) and so yeelded the Ghost, holding his fore-fingers upon his mouth, an ordinary signall to impose silence.  What man ever lived so long and so neere death?  Who ever died so upright and undaunted?  The extreamest degree, and most naturall, courageously to manage death+, is to see or front the 

same, not onely without amazement, but without care; the course of life continuing free even in death.  As Cato, who ammused himselfe to studie and sleepe, having a violent and bloudy death present in his heart, and as it were holding it in his hand. 

I HAVE been none of the weakest in this exercise, which is proper unto men of my stature, well-trussed, short and tough, but now I have given it over: it toyles us over-much to hold out long.  I was even now reading how King Cyrus, that he might more speedily receave news from al parts of his Empire (which was of exceeding great length), would needs have it tried how far a horse could in a day goe outright without baiting, at which distance he caused stations to be set up, and men to have fresh horses ready for al such as came to him.  And some report this swift kind of running answereth the flight of cranes.      Caesar saith that Lucius Vibullis Rufus, making hast to bring Pompey an advertisement, rode day and night, and to make more speed shifted many horses.  And himselfe (as Suetonius writeth) would upon an hyred coache runne a hundred miles a day.  And sure he was a rancke-runner: for where any river hindred his way he swam it over, and never went out of his way to seek for a bridge or foard.  Tiberius Nero going to visite his brother Drusus who lay sick in Germanie, having three coaches in his company, ranne two hundred miles in foure and twenty houres.  In the Romane warres against King Antiochus, Titus Sempronius Gracchus (saith Titus Livius) per dispositos equos prope incredibili celeritate ab Anmphisa tertio die Pellam pervenit:/1 'By horse laid poste, with incredible speede within three dayes he past from Amphisa to Pella.'  And viewing the place, it seemeth they were set stations for postes, and not newly
-----
1 LIVUS.
<Mont2-465> 

appointed for that race.  The invention of Cecina in sending newes to those of his house had much more speede; he carried certaine swallowes with him, and having occasion to send newes home, he let them flie toward their nests, first marking them with some colour proper to signifie what he meant, as before he had agreed upon with his friends.  In the theaters of Rome the household masters carried pigeons in their bosomes, under whose wings they fastened letters, when they would send any word home, which were also taught to bring back an answer.  D.  Brutus used some, being besieged in Mutina, and others elsewhere.  In Peru they went poste upon mens backes, who tooke theire masters upon their shoulders, sitting upon cerfaine beares or chaires with such agilitie that, in full running speede, the first porters, without any stay, cast their load upon other who upon the way waited for them, and so they to others.  I understand that the Valachians, which are messengers unto the great Turk, use extreame diligence in their businesses forasmuch as they have authoritie to dismount the first passengers they meet upon the high-way, and give him their tyred horse.  And because they shal not be weary, they are wont to swaithe themselves hard about the bodie with a broad swathe or seare-cloth, as diverse others doe with us:  I cold never finde ease or good by it. 

is a wonderfull relation and correspondencie found in this universall policie of Natures workes, which manifestly sheweth it is neither casual nor directed by diverse masters.  The infirmities and conditions of our bodies are likewise seene in states and governments: kingdomes and commonwealths as well as we, are borne, florish, and fade through age.  We are subject unto a repleatnesse of humours, hurtfull and unprofitable, yea be it of good humours (for even physitians feare that, and because there is nothing constant in us;. they say, that perfection of health, over joyful and strong, must by art be abated and diminished, lest our nature, unable to settle it selfe in any certaine place, and for hir amendment to ascend higher, should over-violently recoile backe into disorder; and therefore they prescribe unto wrestlers purging and phlebotomies to subtract that superabundance of health from them or of bad [?????] which is the ordinary cause of sicknesse. Of such like repletion are states often seene to be sicke, and divers purgations are wont to be used to purge them.  As wee have seene some to dismisse a great number of families (chiefly to disburthen the country) which elsewhere goe to seeke where they may at others charge seat themselves.  In this sorte our ancient French, leaving the high countries of Germanic, came to possesse Gaule, whence they displaced the first inhabitants.  Thence grew that infinite confluence of people which afterward, under Brenus and others, overranne Italie.  Thus the Gothes and Vandalls, as also the nations which possesse Greece, left their naturall
<Mont2-467> 

countries to go where they might have more elbow-roome: and hardly shall we see two or three corners in the world that have not felt the effect of such a remooving alteration.  The Romanes, by such meanes, erected their colonies; for, perceiving their citie to growe over-populous, they were wont to discharge it of unnecessary people, which they sent to inbabite and manure the countries they had subdued.  They have also sometimes maintainedwarre+ with some of their enemies, not onely thereby to keepe their men in breath, lest idleness, the mother of corruption, should cause them some inconvenience.

Et patimur longae pacis mala, saevior armis
Luxuria incumbit./1

We suffer of long peace the soking harmes,
On us lies luxury more fierce then armes.

if they be not diverted elsewhere, will still maintaine our fever in force, and in the end cause our utter destruction:  And in truth a forraine warre is nothing so dangerous a disease as a civill:  But I will not beleeve that God would favour so unjust an enterprise, to offend and quarrell with others for our commodity.
 

Nil mihi tam valde placeat Rhamnusia virgo,
Quod temere invitis suscipiatur heris./1

That fortune likes me not which is constrained
By Lords unwilling rashly entertained.

Quid vesani aliud sibi vult ars impia ludi,
Quid mortes iuvenum, quid sanguine pasta voluptas?

What else meanes that mad art of impious senseimpious sense,
Those yong-mens deaths, that bloud-fed pleasing sense?

Arripe delatam tua dux in tempora famam,
Quodque patris superest successor laudis habeto:
Nullus in vrbe cadat, cujus sit poena voluptas,
Iam solis contenta feris infamis arena,
Nulla cruentatis homicidia ludat in armis./1

The fame defer'd to your times entertaine,
Enherite praise which doth from Sire remaine
Let none die to give pleasure by his paine:
Be shamefull Theaters with beasts content
Not in goar'd armes manslaughter represent.

     -----consurgit ad ictus,
Et quoties victor ferrum iugulo inserit, illa
Delicias ait esse suas, pectusque jacentis
Virgo modesta ubet converso pollice rumpi./2

The modest maide, when wounds are given, upriseth;
When victors sword the vanquisht throate surpriseth,
She saith, it is hir sport, and doth command
T'embrue the conquer'd breast, by signs of hand.

yea, of their free men, which were sold to that purpose: yea of Senators, and Roman Knights and women also.

Nunc caput in mortem vendant, et funus arenae,
Atque hostem sibi quisqe parat cum bella quiescunt./1

They sell mens lives to death and stages sight,
When wars do cease, they finde with whom to fight.

Hos inter fremitus novosque lusus,
Stat sexus rudis insciusque ferri.
Et puguas capit improbus viriles:

Amidst these tumults, these strange sporting sights,
That sex doth sit which knowes not how sword bites,
And entertaines unmov'd those manly fights.

I WILL but speake a word of this infinite argument, and slightly glance at it, to show the simplicitie of those who compare the seely greatnesse of these times unto that.  In the seaventh booke of Ciceroes familiar Epistles (and let Gramarians remove this title of familiar if they please, for, to say truth, it makes but little to the purpose: and they who in lieu of familiar have placed ad familiares, may wrest some argument for themselves, from that which Suetonius saith in Caesars Life, that there was a volume of his Epistles ad familares) there is one directed unto Caesar then being in Gaule, in which Caesar repeats these very words which were in the end a former letter that Caesar had written to him: 'Touching Marcus Furius, whom thou bast commended unto me, I will make him King of Gaule, and if thou wilt have me preferre any other of thy friends, send them to me.  It was not new in a simple Roman citizen (as Caesar then was) to dispose of kingdomes, for as well deprived he King Deiotarus of his, to give it to a gentleman of the city of Pergamo, called Mithridates.  And those who writ his Life mention many kingdomes sold by him.  And Suetonius reporteth that he at one time wrested three millions and five hundred thousand crownes of gold from King Ptolomaeus, which amounted very neere unto the price of his kingdome.

Tot Galatae, tot Pontus est, tot Lydia numnis:/1

Forsomuch let Galatia go,
Forsomuch Lidia, Pontus so.

Marcus Antonius said, 'The greatnesse of the Romane people was not so much discerned by what it tooke as by what it gave. {reciprocity+} Yet some ages before Antonius was there one amongst others of so wonderfull authoritie, as through all his history I know no marke carrieth the name of his credit higher.  Antiochus possessed all Egypt, and was very neere to conquer Cyprus and others depending of that Empire.  Vpon the progresse of his victories, C.  Popilius came unto him in the behalfe of the Senate, and at first arrivall refused to take him by the hand before he had read the letters he brought him.  The King having read them, said he would deliberate of them.  Popilius with a wand encireled the place about where he stood, and thus bespake him: 'Give me an answer to carry back to the Senate before thou goest out of this circle.  Antiochus, amazed at the rudenesse of so urging a commandement, after he had paused a while, replyed thus: 'I will doe what the Senat commandeth me.  Then Popilius saluted him as a friend unto the Roman people. 'To have renounced so great a Monarchy and forgon the course of so successfull prosperity by the only impression of three written lines!  He had good reason, as afterward he did, by his Ambassadors to send the Senate word that he had received their ordinances with the same respect as if they had come from the immortall Gods.  All the kingdomes Augustus subdued by right of war, he restored to those who had lost them, or presented strangers with them.  And concerning this purpose, Tacitus, speaking of Cogidunus, King of England, by a wonderful trait makes us perceive this infinit greatnes and might.  The Romans (saith he) were from all antiquity accustomed to leave those kings whom they had vanquished in the possession of their kingdomes under their authoritie:  Vt haberent instrumenta servitutis et reges:/1  'That they might have even Kings also for instruments of their bondage.' It is very likely that Soliman, the great Turke, whom we have seene to use such a liberality and give away the Kinadome of
-----
1 CORN.  TACIT.  Vit.  Jul.  Agric. 

Hungary and other dominions, did more respect this consideration then that he was wont to alleage; which is, that he was over wearied with the many monarchies and surcharged with the severall dominions, which either his owne or his ancestors vertue had gotten him. 

THERE is an epigram in Martiall that may pass for a good one (for there are of all sorts in him), wherein he pleasantly relateth the storie of Caelius, who to avoide the courting of certaine great men in Rome, to give attendance at their rising, and to waite, assist and follow them, fained to be troubled with the goute; and to make his excuse more likely, he caused his legges to be ointed and swathed and lively counterfeted the behaviour and countenance of a goutie man.  In the end fortune did him the favour to make him goutie indeede.

Tantum cura potest et ars doloris,
Desiit fingere Caelius podagram./1

So much the care and cunning can of paine:
Caelius (growne gowty) leaves the gowt to faine.

some part of its effect into his fellow; in such sort as it will swell and grow bigger.  As also the idlenes, together with the warmth of the medicaments and swathing, might very well draw some goutie humour into the legge of Martials goutie fellow.  Reading in Froisart the vow which a gallant troupe of younge English-men had made to weare their eyes hudwinkt untill such time as they should passe into France, and there performe some notable exploite of armes upon us:  I have often laughed with my selfe to think what they would have imagined if as to the fore aleaged it had hapned to them, and had all beene blind of the left eye at what time they turned to look upon their mistresses, for whose sake they had made their vowe and undertaken such an enterprise.  Mothers have great reason to chide their children when they counterfeit to be blind with one eye, crompt backe, squint-eyed, or lame, and such other deformities of the body; for besides that the body thus tender may easily receive some ill custome, I know not how, it seemeth that fortune is glad to take us at our word: and I have heard diverse examples of some who have fallen sicke in very deede because they had purposed to faine sick.  I have at all times enured my selfe, whether I be on horsebacke or afoote, to carry a good heavie wand or cudgell in my hand; Yea, I have endeavoured to doe it handsomely, and with an effected kinde of countenance to continue so.  Many have threatned me that fortune will one time or other turne this my wantonnes into necessitie.  I presume upon this that I should be the first of my race that ever was troubled with the gowt.  But lett us somewhat amplifie this chapter, and patch it up with another piece concerning blindnes.  Plinie reports of one who, dreaming in his sleepe that he was blind, awaking the next morning, was found to be starke blinde, having never had any precedent sickenes.  The power of imagination may very well further such things as elsewhere I have shewed; and Plinie seemeth to bee of this opinion; but it is more likely that the motions which the body felt 

inwardly (whereof Physitians may, if they please, finde out the cause), and which tooke away his sight, were the occasion of his dreame.  Let us also add another storie concerning this purpose, which Seneca reporteth in his Epistles.  Thou knowest (saith he, writing unto Lucilius) that Harpaste, my wifes foole, is left upon me as an hereditarie charge; for by mine owne nature I am an enemie unto such monsters, and if I have a desire to laugh at a foole, I neede not seeke one farre; I laugh at my selfe.  This foolish woman hath sodainly lost her sight.  I report a strange thing, but yet very true.  She will not beleeve she is blind, and urgeth her keeper uncessantly to lead her, saying still, my house is very darke.  What we laugh at in her, I entreat thee to beleeve that the same hapneth to each of us.  No man knoweth himselfe to be covetous or niggardly.  Even the blinde require a guide, but wee stray from our selves.  I am not ambitious, say we, but no man can live otherwise at Rome:  I am not sumptuous, but the citie requireth great charges.  It is not my fault if I be collerike; if I have not yet set downe a sure course of my life, the fault is in youth.  Let us not seeke our evill out of us; it is within us, it is rooted in our entrailes. {selfcrit+} And only because we perceive not that we are sicke, makes our recoverie to prove more difficult.  If we beginne not betimes to cure our selves, when shall we provide for so many sores, for so many evils?  Yet have we a most sweete and gentle medicine of Philosophy; for of others no man feeles the leasure of them but after his recoveries whereas she pleaseth, easeth, and cureth all at once.  Lee here what Seneca saith, who hath some what diverted me from my purpose: but there is profit in the exchange. 

TACITus reporteth that amongst certaine barbarous kings, for the confirmation of an inviolable bonde or covenant, their manner was to joyne their right bands close and hard together with enterlacing their thumbs: and when by hard wringing them the blood appeared at their ends, they pricked them with some sharp point, and then mutually entersuckt each one the others. Phisicians say thumbes are the master fingers of the hand, and that their Latine etymologie is derived of Pollere.  The Graecians call it &VTtxelp, as a man would say, another hand.  And it seemeth the Latines likewise take them sometimes in this sense, id est, for the whole hand:

Sed nec vocibus excitata blandis,
Molli pollice nec rogata surgit./1

It wil not rise, though with sweet words excited,
Nor with the touch of softest thumb invited.

Fautor vtrogue tuum laudabit pollice ludum:/2

He that applaudes will praise,
With both his thumbs, thy plaies:

      ------ converse pollice vulgi
Quemlibet occidunt populariter./3

When people turne their thumbs away,
They popularly any slay.

     Such as were hurt or maymed in their thumbs were by the Romans dispensed from going to warre, as they who had lost their weapons hold-fast.  Augustus did confiscate all the goods of a Roman knight, who through malice had cut off the thumbes of two young children of his, thereby to excuse them from going to warre and before him the Senate in the time of the Italian warres had condemned Caius Vatienus to perpetuall prison, and confiscated all his goods, forsomuch as he had willingly cut off the thumb of his left hand, so to exempt himselfe from the voyage. Some one, whose name I remember not, having gained a great victory by sea, caused all the enemies whom he had vanquished and taken prisoners to have their thumbs cut off, thinking thereby to deprive them of all meanes of fighting, or rowing, or handling their oares.  The Athenians likewise caused them to be cut off from them of AEgina, to take from them the prebhminence in the art of navigation.  Lacedaemon masters punished their schollers by byting their thumbs. 

I HAVE often heard it reported that cowardice is the mother of cruelty: and have perceived by experience that this malicious sbarpnes and inhumane severitie of corage is commonly accompanied with feminine remissenesse. I have seene some of the cruelest subject to weepe easily, and for frivolous causes.  Alexander the tyrant of Pheres could not endure to see tragedies acted in the theatres for feare his subjects should see him sob and weepe at the misfortunes of Hecuba and Andromache; he who without remorse or pitty caused daily so many poore people to be most cruelly massacred and barbarously murthered.  May it be weaknesse of spirit makes them so pliable to all extremities? valor (whose effect is onely to exercise it selfe against resistance),

Nec nisi bellantis gaudet cervice iuvenci./1

Nor takes he joy to domineere
But on the necke of sturdie steere.

or hacke a carcase lying and groveling at their feete, having no manner of feeling of other valor.

Et Lupus et turpes instant morientibus Ursi.
Et quaecumque minor nobilitate fera est./1

A Wolfe or filthie Beare the dying man oppresse.
Or some such beast as in nobilitle is lesse.

blow with a pistol on his head, shal we think he wil repent?  Contrariwise, if we marke him wel, we shal perceive that in falling, he makes a moe or bob at us.  He is farre from repenting when he rather seemes to be beholding us: inasmuch as we affoord him the favourablest office of life, which is to make him dye speedily and as it were insensibly.  We are left to shift up and downe, runne and trot, and squat heere and there, and al to avoyd the officers or escape the magistrates that pursue us; and he is at rest. 'To kill a man is good to escape a future offence, and not revenge the wrongs past.  It is rather an action of feare than of bravery; of precaution than of an enterprise.  It is apparent that by it we quit both the true end of revenge and the respect of our reputation: if be live we feare he will or may charge us with the like.  It is not against him, it is for thee, thou riddest thy selfe of him.  In the kingdome of Narsinga this expedient would be bootlesse.  There not only souldiers, and such as professe armes, but every meane artificer, decide their quarels with the swords point. The King never refuseth any man the combate that is disposed to fight, and if they be men of qualitie he wil be by in person, and reward the victor with a chaine of gold: which, whosoever hath a mind unto, and wil obtaine it, may freely challenge him that weareth the same, and enter combate with him.  And having overcome one combate, hath many following the same.  If we thought by vertue to be ever superiors unto our enemy, and at our pleasure gourmandize him, it would much grieve us he should escape us, as he doth in dying.  We rather endeavour to vanquish surely then honourably.  And in our quarrels we rather seeke for the end then for the glory.  Asinius Pollio for an honest man lesse excusabie, committed a like fault; who, having written many invectives against Plancus, staid untill he were dead to publish them.  It was rather to flurt at a blind man, and raile in a dead mans eare, and to offend a senselesse man, than incurre the danger of his revenge. 

And men answered in this behalfe, that it onely belonged to hobgoblins to wrestle with the dead.  He who stayeth till the author be dead whose writings he will combate, what saith he but that he is weake and quarrellous? It was told Aristotle, that somebody had spoken ill of him, to whom he answered, 'Let him also whippe me, so my selfe be not by.  Our forefathers were content to revenge+ an insult with the lie, a lie with a blowe, a blowe with bloud, and so in order.  They were sufficiently valiant not to feare their adversary, though he lived and were wronged: whereas we quake for feare so loug as we see him afoot.  And that it is so, doth not our moderne practise pursue to death as well him who hath wronged us as him whom we have offended?  It is also a kind of dastardlinesse which hath brought this fashion into our single combates, to accompany us in the fields with seconds, thirdes, and fourths.  They were anciently single combates, but now they are skirmishes and battels.  To be alone, feared the first that invented it.  Quum in se cuique minimum fiducite esset: 'When every man had least confidence in himselfe.  For, what company soever it be, it doth naturally bring some comfort and ease in danger.  In ancient time they were wont to employ third persons as sticklers, to see no treachery or disorder were used, and to beare witnes of the combates successe.  But now this fashion is come up, let any man be engaged, whosoever is envited cannot well containe himselfe to be a spectator, lest it be imputed unto him it is either for want of affection or lack of courage.  Besides the injustice of such an action and villany, for your honours protection, to engage other valour and force than your owne, I find it a disadvantage in an honest and worthy man, and who wholly trusts unto himselfe, to entermingle his fortune with a second man: every one runneth sufficient hazard for himselfe, and need not also runne it for another: and hath enough to do to assure himselfe of his owne vertue for the defence of his life, without committing so precious a thing into third mens hands. yr, if the contrary hath not expresly beene 

covenanted of all foure, it is a combined party.  If your fellow chance to faile, you have two upon you, and not without reason: and to say it is a Superchery, as it is indeed: as being wel armed, to charge a man who hath but a piece of a sword, or being sound and strong, to set upon a man sore hurt.  But if they be advantages you have gotten fighting, you may use them without imputation.  Disparitie is not considered, and inequality is not balanced, but by the state wherein the fight is begun.  As of the rest you must rely on fortune, and if alone or single you chance to have three upon you, your other two companions being slain, you have no more wrong done you than I should offer in wars in striking an enemie whom at such an advantage I should finde grappled with one of my fellow-souldiers. The nature of societie beareth where troupe is against troupe (as where our Duke of Orleans chalenged Henry King of England, one hundred against another hundred; three hundred against as many, as did the Argians against the Lacedemonians; three to three, as were the Horatij against the Curatij), the pluralitie of either side is never respected for more than a single man.  Wheresoever there is company, the hazard is confused and disordered. I have a private interest in this discourse.  For my brother, the Lord of Matecoulom, being desired in Rome to second and accompany a gentleman with whom he had no great acquaintance, who was defendant and challenged by another; the fight begunne, my brother by chance found himselfe confronted with one neerer and better known to him (I would faine be resolved of these lawes of honour, which so often shock and trouble those of reason), whom after he had vanquished and dispatched, seeing the two principals of the quarrell yet standing and unhurt, he went to reskew his fellow.  What could he doe lesse? should he have stood still, and (if chance would so have had it) see him defeated for whose defence he was entred the quarrell? What until then he had done was nothing to the purpose, and the quarrel was still undecided.  Al the courtesie you can, you ought surely use to your enemy, 

especially when you have brought him under, and to some great advantage; I know not how a man may use it, when anothers interest depends on it, where you are but accessory and where the quarrel is not yours.  Hee could never be just nor curteous in hazard of him unto whom he had lent himselfe. So was he presently delivered out of the Italian prisons by a speedy and solemne letter of commendations from our King.  Oh, indiscreet nation!  We are not contented to manifest our follies and bewray our vices to the world by reputation; but we goe into forraigne nations, and there in person shew them.  Place three Frenchmen in the deserts of Libya, and they will never live one moneth together without brawling, falling out, and scratching one another; you would say this peregrination is a party erected to please strangers with our tragedies; and those most commonly who rejoyce and scoffe at our evils.  We travel into Italie to learne the art of fencing, and practise it at the cost of our lives, before we know it; it were requisite, according to the order of true discipline, we should preferre the theorike before the practike.  We betray our apprentisage.

Primitiae iuvenum miserae, bellique futuri
Dura rudimenta./1

The miserable first essayes of youth
And hard beginnings of warre that ensu'th.

science.  And therefore have I seene some of my friends, renowned for great Masters in this exercise, in their quarrels to make choice of weapons that might well take the meane of this advantage or oddes from them; and which wholly depend on fortune and assurance that their victorie might not rather be imputed to their fencing then ascribed to their valour.  And in my infancy our nobility scorned the reputation of a fencer, though never so cunning, as injurious; and if any learnt it they would sequester themselves from company, deeming the same as a mystery of craft and subtility, derogating from true and perfect vertue. {amateur+}

Non scntivar, non parar, non ritirarsi
Voglion costor, ne qui destrezza ha parte;
Non danno i colpi finti hor pieni, hor scarsi;
Togli l'ira e'l furor l'uso dell'arte,
Odi le spade horribilmente urtarsi
A mezzo il ferro, il pie d'orma non parte,
Sempre e il pie fermo, e la man sempre in moto,
Ne scende taglio in van, ne punta a voto./1

T' avoyde, toward retiring to give ground
They reke not, nor hath nimblenes heere part,
Nor give false blowes, nor full, nor scarce, nor sound,
Rage and revenge bereave all use of arte.
Their Swordes at halfe Sword horribly resound
You might heare mette:  No foote from steppe doth parte:
Their foote still fast, their hand still faster-mooveth:
No stroke in vaine, no thrust in vaine, but prooveth.

Souldier to manage his armes by dexteritie and skil, and joyned art onto vertue, not for the use of private contentions, but for the wars and Roman peoples quarrels; a popular and civill manner of fencing; and besides the example of Caesar, who appointed his souldier above all things to aime and strike at the face of Pompeyes men in the battell of Pharsalia: a thousand other Chieftaines and Generals have devised new fashions of weapons and new kindes of striking, and covering of themselves, according as the present affaires require.  But even as Philopoemen condemned wrestling, wherein hee excelled others, forsomuch as the preparations appertaining to this exercise differed from those that belong to military discipline, to which he supposed men of honour should amuse and addict themselves, me thinkes also that this nimblenesse or agilitie to which men fashion and enure themselves, their Iimbes, their turnings, windings, and nimble-quicke motions wherein youth is instructed and trained in this new schoole, are not only unprofitable but rather contrary and damageable for the use of militarie combat:  And wee see our men do commonly employ particular weapons in their fence schools, and peculiarly appointed for that purpose.  And I have seene it dis-allowed that a gentleman chalenged to fight with rapier and dagger should present himselfe in the equipage of a man at armes; or that another should offer to come with his cloake instead of a dagger.  It is worthy the noting that Lachez in Plato, speaking of an apprentisage how to manage armes conformable to ours, saith he could never see any notable warrior come of a school of fence, and especially from among the maisters.  As for them our owne experience confirmes as much.  And for the rest we may at least say they are sufficiencies of no relation or correspondency.  And in the institution of the children of this Commonwealth, Plato interdicts the artes of striking or playing with fists devised by Amycus and Epeius, and to wrestle invented by Antoeus and Cercyo: because they aime at another end then to adapt youth to warlike service, and have no 

afflilition with it.  But I digresse much from my theame, The Emperour Mauricius' being forwarned by dreames and sundry prognostications that one Phocas a souldier at that time yet unknowne, should kill him, demanded of Philip his sonne in law who that Phocas was, his nature, his conditions and customes, and how amongst other things Philip told him he was a faint, cowardly, and timorous fellow.  The Emperour thereby presently concluded that he was both cruel and a murtherer.  What makes tyrants+ so bloud-thirstie? it is the care of their securities and that their faint hart yeelds them no other meanes to assure themselves then by rooting out those which may in any sort offend them; yea, silly women, for feare that they should or bite or scratch them:

Cuncta ferit dum cuncta timet./1

Of all things he afraide,
At all things fiercely laide.

by Philip was one Herodicus, Prince of the Thessalians: after whom he caused his two sonnes in lawe to be put to deathe, each of them leaving a young sonne behind.  Theoxena and Arco were the two widdowes.  Theoxena, although she were instantly urged thereunto, could never be induced to marry againe.  Arco tooke to husband Poris, a chiefe man amongst the AEneans, and by him had divers children, all which she left very young.  Theoxena, moved by a motherly cbaritie toward her young nephews, and so to have them in her protection and bringing up, wedded Poris.  Vpon this came out the proclamation of the Kings edict.  This noble- minded mother, distrusting the Kings crueltie and fearing the mercilesness of his satelities or officers towards these noble, hopefull and tender youths, feared not to say that shee would rather kil them with her own bands then deliver them.  Poris, amazed at her protestations, promiseth her secretly to convey them to Athens, there by some of his faithful friends to be kept safely.  They take occasion of a yearly feast which to the honour of AEneas was solemnized at AEnea, and thither they goe, where having all day long assisted at the ceremonies and publike banket, night being come, they convay themselves into a shippe appointed for that purpose in hope to save themselves by sea.  But the winde fell out so contrarie that the next morning they found themselves in view of the towne whence the night before they had hoisted sailes, where they were pursued by the garders and souldiers of the port.  Which Poris perceiving, laboured to hasten and encourage the mariners to shift away: but Tbeoxena, engaged through love and revenge, remembring her first resolution, prepared both weapons and poisons, and presenting them to their sight, thus she bespake them: 'Oh my dear children, take a good heart; death is now the onely meane of your defence and libertie, and shall be a just cause unto the Gods for their holy justice.  These bright keen blades, these full cuppes shall free you the passage unto it.  Courage therefore, and thou my eldest childe take this sword 

to die the strongest death.  Who on the one side having so undaunted a perswader, and on the other their enemies ready to cut their throats in furious manner, ranne all to that which came next to his hand; and so all goared and panting were throwne into the sea.  Theoxena, proud she had so gloriously provided for her children's safety, lovingly embraced her husband, said thus unto him: 'Oh ny dear heart, let us follow these boyes, and together with them enjoy one self-same grave;' and so close-claspe together they flung themselves into the maine: so that the ship was brought to shore againe, but emptie of her maisters.  Tyrants+, to act two things together, that is, to kill and cause their rage to be felt, have employed the utmost of their skill to devise lingering deaths.  They will have their enemies die, yet not so soone but that they may, have leisure to feele their vengeance.  Wherin they are in great perplexity; for if the torments be over-violent, they are short; if lingring, not grevious enough.  In this they imploy their wits and devices, many examples whereof we see in antiquitie; and I wot not whether we retain some spice of that barbarisme.  Whatsoever is beyond a simple death seemeth to me meere crueltie.  Our justice cannot hope that he whom the terror of death cannot dismay, be he to be hanged or beheaded, can in any sort be troubled with the imagination of a languishing fire, of a wheele, or of burning pincers.  And I wot not whether in that meane time we bring him to despair; for what plight can the soule of man be in that is broken up on a wheele, or, after the old fashion, nailed to a crosse, and 24 howres together expects his death!  Josephus reporteth that whilst the Roman warres continued in Jewrie, passing by a place where certain Jewes had been crucified three dayes before, he knew three of his friends amongst them, and having gotten leave to remove them, two of them died, but the third lived long after.  Chalcondylas, a man of credite, in the memories he left of matters happened in his time and thereabouts, maketh report of an 

extreame torment the Emperor Mechmed was often wont to put in practice, which was by one onely blow of a cimitary, or broad Persian sword, to have men cut in two parts, by the waste of the body, about the diapbragma, which is a membrane lying overthwart the lower part of the breast, separating the heart and lights from the stomacke, which caused them to die two deaths at once: and affirmeth that both parts were seen full of life, to move and stirre long time after, as if they had been in lingering torment.  I do not thinke they felt any great torture in that moving.  The gastliest torments to looke upon are not alwaies the greatest to be endured: and I finde that much more fiercely-horrible, which other historians write, and which he used against certain Lords of Epirus, whom faire and leasurely he caused to be flead all over, disposed by so malicious a dispensation that their lives continued fifteene daies in that languor and anguish. And these two others:  Croesus having caused a gentleman to be apprehended, greatly favoured by Pantaleon his brother, led him in a fullers or clothworkers shoppe, where with cardes and teazles belonging to that trade, he made him to be carded, scraped, and teazled so long until he died of it.  George Sechel, ring-leader of the countrymen of Polina, who under the title of a croysada, wrought so many mischiefs, having beene defeated in a battell by the Vayvoda of Transilvania and taken prisoner, was for three dayes together tyed naked to a wooden horse, exposed to all manner of tortures any man might devise against him; during which time divers other prisoners were kept fasting.  At last, he yet living, saw Lucat his deare brother, and for whose safety he sued and entreated, forced to drinke his blood, drawing all the envie and hatred of his misdeeds upon himselfe.  And twenty of his most favoured captaines were compelled to feed upon his flesh, which with their teeth they must teare off and swallow their morsels.  The rest of his body and entrailes, he being dead, were boiled in a pan, and given for food to other of his followers. 

THOSE who compare Cato the Censor to Cato+ the Younger that killed himselfe, compare two notable natures, and in forme neare one unto another.  The first exploited his sundrie waies and excelleth in military exploits and utilitie of his publike vacations.  But the youngers vertue (besides that it were blasphemy in vigor to compare any unto him) was much more sincere and unspotted. For who will discharge the Censors of envie and ambition that durst counterchecke the honour of Scipio+ in goodnes and all other parts of excellencie, farre greater and better than him or any other man living in his age?  Amongst other things reported of him, this is one, that in his eldest a he gave himselfe with so earnest a longing to the Greek tong, as if it had been to quench a long burning thirst, a thing in mine opinion not very honourable in him.  It is properly that which we call doting, or to become a childe againe.  All things have their season yea the good and all.  And I may say my Paternoster out of season.  As T.  Quintius Flaminius was accused, forasmuch as being generall of an army, even in the houre of the conflict he was seene to withdraw himselfe apart, amusing, himselfe to pray God although he gained the battell.

Imponit finem sapiens et rebus honestis./1

A wise-man will use moderation,
Even in things of commendation.

apply himselfe in his schoole-lectures, said, When will this man know something, since he is yet learning?  And Philopoemen, to those who highly extolled King Ptolomey because he daily hardened his body to the exercise of armes:  It is not (said he) a matter commendable in a King of his age in them to exercise himselfe, he should now really and substantially imploy them.  Wise men say that young men should make their preparations and old men enjoy them.  And the greatest vice they note in us is, that our desires do uncessantly grow yonger and yonger.  We are ever beginning anew to live. Our studies and our desires should sometimes have a feeling of age.  We have a foote in the grave, and our appetites and pursuits are but new-borne.

Tu secanda marmora
Locas sub ipsum funus, et sepulcri
Immemor, struis domos./1

You, when you should be going to your grave,
Put marble out to worke, in houses brave,
Unmindfull of the buriall you must have.

Vixi, et quem dederat cursum fortuna peregi./3

I have liv'd, and the race have past
Wherein my fortune had me plac't.

the worlds course, the care of riches, of greatnesse, of knowledge, of health, and of my selfe.  This man learneth to speake when he should rather learne to hold his peace for ever.  A man may alwaies continue his study, but not schooling.  O fond-foolish for an old man to be ever an Abecedarian.

Diversos diversa iuvant, non omnibus annis
Omnia conveniunt./1

Diverse delights to diverse nor to all
Do all things at all yeares convenient fall.

I FINDE by experience that there is great difference betweene the sodaine fits and fantasies of the soule, and a resolute disposition and constant habitude: and I see there is nothing but we may attaine unto, yea, as some say, to exceede Divinitie it selfe; forsomuch as it is more to become impassible of himselfe, then to be so by his originall condition: and that one may joyne a resolution and assurance of God to mens imbecillitie.  But it is by fits.  And in the lives of those heroes or noble worthies of former ages, are often found wonderfull parts, and which seems greatly to exceed our naturall forces: but they are prankes or parts consonant to truth: and it may hardly be believed mans soule may so be tainted and fed with those so high-raised conditions, that onto it they may become as ordinary and naturall.  It hapneth unto our selves, who are but abortive broods of men, sometimes to rowse our soule farre beyond her ordinary pitch, as stirred up by the discourses or provoked by the examples of others.  But it is a kinde of passion which urgeth, mooveth, agitateth, and in some sort ravisheth her from out her selfe: for, that gust overblowne and storme past, wee see it wil unawares unbend and lose it selfe, if not to the lowest pitch, at least to be no more the same she was, so that upon every slight occasion, for a bird lost or for a glasse broken, we suffer our selves to be mooved and distempered very neere as one of the vulgar sort.  Except order, moderation+, and constancie+, I imagine all things may bee done by an indifferent and defective man.  Therefore say
<Mont2-495> 

wise men, that directly to judge of a man, his common actions must specially be controuled, and he must every day be surprised in his work-day clothes. Pyrrho, who framed so pleasant a science of ignorance, assaied (as all other true philosophers) to fashion his life answerable to his doctrine. And forasmuch as he maintained the weaknesse of mans judgement to be so extreame as it could take nor resolution nor inclination: and would perpetually suspend it, ballancing, bebolding and receiving all things as indifferent: it is reported of him that he ever kept himselfe after one fashion, looke and countenance.  If he had begunne a discourse, he would end it, though the party to whom he spake were gone: and if he went any where, he would not goe an inche out of his path what let or obstacle soever came in his way; being kept from falls, from cartes, or other accidents by his friends. For, to feare or shunne any thing had beene to shocke his propositions, which remooved all election and certainty from his very senses.  He sometimes suffered himselfe to be cut and cautherized with such constancy as he was never seen so much as to shrug, twitch, move, or winke with his eyes.  It is something to bring the minde to these imagination, but more to joine the effects unto it, yet is it not impossible.  But to joine them with such perseverance and constancy as to establish it for an ordinary course; verily in these enterprises so farre from common use, it is almost incredible to be done.  The reason is this, that he was sometimes found in his house bitterly scolding with his sister for which being reproved as he that wronged his indifferencie; 'What!' said he, 'must this seely woman also serve as a witnesse to my rules?  Another time, being found to defend himselfe from a dog: 'It is,' replied be, 'very hard altogether to dispoile and shake off man;' and man must endevour and enforce himselfe to resist and confront all things, first by effects, but if the worst befall, by reason and by discourse.  It is now about seven or eight yeares since, that a country man yet living not above two leagues from this place, having long before beene much 

vexed and troubled in minde for his wives jealousies one day comming home from his worke, and she after her accustomed manner welcomming and entertaining him with brawling and scowlding, as, one unable to endure her any longer, fell into such a moodie rage that sodainely with a sickle which he held in his hand he clean cut off those parts tnat were the cause of her jealousies and flung them in her face.  And it is reported that a yong gentleman of France, amorous and lustie, having by his perseverance at last mollified the heart of his faire mistresse, desperate, because comming to the point of his so long sued-for businesses he found himselfe unable and unprepared, and that

     -----non viriliter
Iners senile penis extulerat caput./1

husbands have many wives, and for hir that is dearest unto hir husband to kill herselfe after him: every one in the whole course of hir life endevoreth to obtaine this priviledge and advantage over all her fellow wives: and in the good offices and duties they shew their husbands, respect no other recompence than to be preferred to accompany them in death.

Ubi mortifero jacta est fax ultima lecto,
Uxorem fusis, stat pia turba comis:
Et certamen habent Lethi, quae viva sequator
Coniugium, pudor est non licuisse mori:
Ardent victrices, et flammae pectora praebent,
Imponuntque suis ora perusta viris./1

When for his death-bed last flame is appli'd
With loose haires many kind wives stand beside,
And strive for death, which alive may be next
Hir wedlocke, who may not, is sham'd and vex't:
They that orecome, are burn'd, to flames give way,
Their bodies burnt on their burnt husbands lay.

and sumptuous banket, which ended, she beginneth to dance and sing, and when she thinks good, commandeth the fire to be kindled.  That done, she commeth down a againe, and taking the nearest of hir husbands kindred by the hand, they goe together to the next river, where she strippes hir selfe all naked and distributeth hir jewels and cloathes among hir friends, then plungeth herselfe in the water, as if she meant to wash away hir sins; then comming out she enwrappeth her selfe in a yellow piece of linnen cloth, about the length of fourteene yards; and giving her band againe unto hir husbands kinsmen, they returne unto the mount, where she speakes unto the people, to whom (if she have any) she recommendeth hir children.  Betweene the pitte and mount there is commonly a curtaine drawne, lest the sight of that burning furnace might dismay them: which many, to shew the greater courage, wil not have it drawne.  Her speech ended, a woman presenteth her with a vessell ful of oyl, therewith to annoint her head and body, which done, she casteth the rest into the fire, and therewithall sodainly flings herselfe-into it: which is no sooner done but the people cast great stors of faggots and billets upon hir, lest she should languish over- long: and all their joy is converted into griefe and sorrow.  If they be persons of meane quality, the dead mans body is carried to the place where they intend to bury him, and there be is placed sitting; his widdow kneeling before him with her armes close about his middle, and so keepeth hirself whilst a wall is erected up about them both, which raised to the height of her shoulders, some of her kindred taking her by the head behind, wrings hir neck about, and having given the last gaspe, the wall is immediately made up close over their heads, wherein they remain buried.  In the same country there was something like to this in their Gymnosophists, or wise men, who not by menaces or compulsions of others, nor by the violence of a sodaine humour, but by the expresse and voluntary profession of their rule, their maner was according as they attained unto a certaine age, or saw themselves 

threatned by some sicknesse, to cause a pile of wood to be erected and upon it a rich bedde; and having cheerefully feasted their friends and acquaintance, with such a resolution laid themselves downe in that bed, that fire set unto it, they were never seene to stirre nor hand nor foot; and thus died one of them named Calanus in the presence of all the army of Alexander the Great.  And who had not so made himselfe away was neither esteemed holy nor absolutely happy among them; sending his soul purged and purified by fire after it had consumed whatsoever was mortal and terrestrial in it.  This constant premeditation of al the life is that which makes the wonder.  Amongst our other disputation, that of Fatum hath much entermedled it selfe: and to joyne future things and our wil itselfe unto a certaine unavoydable necessitie, we yet stand upon that argument of former times: since God forseeth al things must thus happen, as undoubtedly he doeth: they must then necessarily happen so.  To which our clarks and maisters answere, that to see any thing come to passe as wee doe, and likewise God (for he being present in ful essence rather seeth than foreseeth), is not to force the same to happen: yea we see because things come to passe, but things happen not because we see. {Milton+} The hapning makes the science or knowledge, and not knowledge the happening.  What we see come to passe, happeneth; but it might come to passe otherwise.  And God in the eternall register of the causes of happenings, which he hath in his prescience, hath also those which are called casual; and the voluntary, which depend of the liberty he hath given unto our free will, and knoweth we shall faile, because our will shall have beene to faile.  I have seene divers encourage their troupes with this fatall necessitie; for, if our hour be tied unto a certaine point neither the musket- shottes of our enemie, nor our courage, nor our flight and cowardice can either advance or recoyle the same.      This may well be said, but seeke you who shall effect it: and if it be so that a strong and lively faith doth likewise draw action after it: truely this faith (wherewith 

we so much fil our mouthes) is marvelous light in our times, except the contempt it hath of works, make her disdaine their company.  So it is that to the same purpose the Lord of Joinville, as credible a witnesse as any other, tells us of the Bedoins, a nation intermingled with the Saracine, with whom our King Saint Lewis had to deale in the holy land who so confidently believed in their religion the dayes of every one to be prefixed and numbred from all eternity by an inevitable preordinance, that they went al bare and naked to the warres except a Turkish glaive in their hand, and their body covered but with a white linnen cloth: and for the bitterest curse, if they chanced to fall out one with another, they had ever in their mouth: 'Cursed be then as he that armeth himselfe for feare of death.  Here is another maner of triall or a belief or faith then ours.  In this rank may likewise be placed that which those two religious men'of Florence not long since gave unto their countrymen.  Being in some controversie betweene themselves about certaine points of learning, they accorded to go both into the fire in the presence of al the people and in the open market place, each one for the verifying of his opinion; and all preparations were ready made and execution to be performed, but that by an unexpected accident it was interrupted.  A yong Turkish Lord, having achieved a notable piece of service in armes and with his own person in ful view of the two battels between Ammurath and Huniades ready to be joyned together, being demanded by Ammurath his prince, who being so yong and inexperienced (for it was the first warre or service he had seen before) had replenished him with so generous and undanted vigor of courage, answered that a hare had beene his soveraigue maister and onely teacher of valour; and thus began his speech:  Being one day a hunting, I found a hare sitting in her forme, and although I had a brace of excellent good greyhounds with me in a slip or leash, I thought it good, because I would be sure of my same to use my bow; for she was a very fair narke.  I begaune to shoot my arrowes 

at her, which I did to the number of fortie (for in my quiver were just so many), yet could I never hurt her, no not so much as start her.  After all this I let slip my grayhounds, who could do no more than I had done: by which I learnt that she had been sheltred and defended by her destinie; and that no glaives nor arrowes never hit but by the permission of our fatalitie, which it lieth not in us to =or advance.  This storie may serve to make us perceive by the way how flexible our reason is to all sorts of objects.  A notable man, great in yeares, in name, in dignity, and in learning, vaunted himselfe unto me, that he was induced to a certaine most important change of his religion by a strange and fantasiical incitation: and in al things so il concluding that I deemed the same stronger and more forcible being taken contrary.  He termed it a miracle, and so did I, but in a different sense.  Their historians say that perswasion having popularly beene scattered amongst the Turkes of the fatal and inflexible prescription of their dayes, doth apparently aide to warrant and embolden them in dangers. And I know a great Prince who happily thrives by it, be it he believe it or take it for an excuse to hazard himselfe extraordinarily; provided fortune be not soone wearie to favour and backe him.  There hath not happened in our memorie a more admirable effect of resolution than of those two villaines that conspired the death of the Prince of Orange: it is strange how the last who performed the same could be induced or encouraged to undergo such an enterprize, wherein his fellow (though he had resolutely attempted it and had all might be required for such an action) had so ill success and miscarried.  And in those steps and with the same weapons to go and undertake a Lord, armed with so late an instruction of distrust; mighty in friends and followers, puissant of bodily strength, in his owne hall, amiddest his servants and guarde, and in a city wholly at his devotion.  It must of force be said that in performing it he employed a well- directed and resolute band and a dreadlesse courage, mooved by a vigorous passion. 

A poynard is more sure to wound a man, which forsomuch as it requireth more motion and vigour of the arme than a pistol, its stroke is more subject to be hindred or avoyded.  That the first ranne not to an assured death I make no great doubt, for the hopes wherewith he might be entertained could not harbour in a well-setled and resolute midde, and the conduct of his exploit sheweth he wanted no more that then courage.  The motions of so forcible a perswasion may be diverse, for our fantasia disposeth of her self and of us as she pleaseth.  The execution committed neere Orleans had no coherence with this wherein was more hazard than vigor; the blow was not mortall had not fortune made it so, and the enterprise to shoote on horsebacke and far-off, and to one who mooved still according to the motion of his horse, was the attempt of a man that rather loved to misse of his effect then faile to save himselfe.  What followed did manifestly shew it; for he was so amazed and drunken with the thought of so haughty an execution, as he lost all his senses, both to worke his escape and direct his tongue in his answers.  What needed he have done more then recover his friends by crossing of a river?  It is a meane wherein I have cast my selfe in farre lesse dangers; and which I thinke of small hazard, how broad soever, alwayes provided your horse find an easie entrance, and on the further side you forsee an easie and shallow landing, according to the course of the streame of the water.  The second, when the horrible sentence was pronounced against him, answered stoutly: 'I was prepared for it, and I shall amaze you with my patience.  The Assassines, a nation depending of Phoenicia, are esteemed among the Mahometists of a soveraigne devotion and puritie of maners: they hold that the readiest and shortest way to gaine Paradise is to kill some one of a contrary religion; therefore hath it often beene seene that one or two in their bare doublets have undertaken to assault mighty enemies with the price of an assured death and without any care of their own danger.  And thus was our Earle 

Raymond of Tripoli murthered or assassinated (this word is borrowed from their name) in the middest of his citie, daring the time of our warres in the holy land; and likewise Conrade Marquis of Montferrat his murtherers being brought to their torture, were seene to swell with pride that they had performed so worthy an exploit. 

THIS discourse shall passe single, for I leave it to Physitians to treat of.  I saw two dayes since a child whom two men and a nurse (which named themselves to be his father, his uncle, and his aunt) carried about with intent to get some money with the sight of him, by reason of his strangenesse. In all the rest he was as other children are: he stood upon his feete, went and prattled in a manner as all others of his age.  He would never take nourishment but by his nurses breast; and what in my presence was offred to be put in his mouth he chewed a little and put it all out againe. His puling differed somewhat from others: he was just fourteene monthes olde.  Under his paps he was fastned and joyned to another childe, but had no head, and who had the conduite of his backe stopped; the rest whole. One of his armes was shorter than the other, and was by accident broken at their birth.  They were joyned face to face, and as if a little child would embrace another somewhat bigger.  The joyning and space whereat they were closed together was but foure inches broad, or thereabouts; in such sort that if you thrust up the imperfect childe you might see under the others navill; and the seame was betweene the paps and his navill.  The navill of the imperfect one could not be seene, but all the rest of his belly might.  Thus, what of the imperfect one was not joyned, as armes, buttocks, thighes, and legges, did hang and shake upon the other, whose length reached to the middle-leg of the other perfect.  His nurse told me he made water by both privities.  The members of the little one were
<Mont2-505> 

nourished, living, and in the same state as the others, except only they were lesse and thinner.  This double body nd these different members, having reference to one onely bead, might serve for a favorable prognostication to our King to maintaine the factions and different parties of this our kingdome under a unitie of the lawes.  But least the successe should prove it contrary, it is not amisse to let him runne his course; for in Things already past there need no divination.  Vt quum facta sunt, tum ad conjecturam aliquid interpretatione revocantur:/1 'So as when they are done they then by some construction should be revoked to conjecture.  As it is reported of Epimenides, who ever devined backward.' I come now from seeing of a shepherd at Medoc, of thirtie yeares of age or thereabouts, who bad no signe at all of genitorie parts, but where they should be are three little holes by which his water doth continually tril from him.  This poore man hath a beard, and desireth still to be fumbling of women.  Those which we call monsters are not so with God, who in the immensitie of his work seeth the infinite of formes therein contained.  And it may be thought that any figure doth amaze us, hath relation unto some other figure of the same kinde, although unknown unto man.  From out his all-seeing wisdome proceedeth nothing but good, common, regular, and orderly; but we neither see the sorting, nor conceive the relation.  Quod crebro videt, non miratur, etiam si, cur fiat, nescit.  Quod ante non vidit, id, si evenerit, ostentum esse censet:/2 'That which he often seeth he doth not wonder at, though he know not why it is done; but if that happen which he never saw before, he thinkes it some portentous wonder.  We call that against nature which commeth against custome.  There is nothing, whatsoever it be, that is not according to hir. Let therefore this universall'and naturall reason chase from us the error, and expel] the astonishment which noveltie breedeth and strangenes causeth in us,
-----
1 CIC.  Div. 1. ii. 2 CIC.  Div. 1.  II. 

PLUTARKE+ is everywhere admirable, but especially where he judgeth of humane actions.  The notable things he reporteth may be perceived in the comparison of Lycurgus and Numa, speaking of the great simplicity we commit in leaving long children under the government and charge of their fathers and parents.  Most of our policies or commonwealths, saith Aristotle (as the Cyclopes were wont) commit the conduct of their wives and charge of their children to all men, according to their foolish humour or indiscreete fantasies.  And well-nigh none but the Lacedemonian and Cretensian have resigned the discipline of children to the lawes.  Who seeth not that in an estate all things depend of nurture and education?  And all the while, without discretion, it is wholly left to the parents mercy how foolish and wicked soever they be.  Amongst other things, how often (walking through our streets) have I desired to have a play or comedie made in revenge of young boyes, which I saw thumpt, misused, and well-nigh murthered by some harebrained, moodie, and through choler-raging fathers and mothers, from out whose eyes a man might see sparkles of rage to startle.

     ----- rabie jecur incendente feruntur
Praecipites, ut saxa jugis abrupta, quibus mons
Subtrahitur, clivoque latus pendente recedit:/1

They headlong runne with rage, which doth enflame their livers
Like stones that broken fall from mountaine tops in shivers,
The hill withdrawes, and they are rould
From hanging cliffe which leaves their hold

(And according to Hypocrates, the most dangerous infirmities are those which disfigure the face), and with a loud thundring voice often to follow children that came but lately from nurse, which after prove lame, maimed, blockish and dul- pated with blowes; and yet our lawes makes no accompt of it, as if these spraines and unjoyntings of limbes, or these maimes were no members of our commonwealth.

Gratum est quod patrim civem populoque dedisti,
Si facis ut patriae sit idoneus, utilis aqris,
Vtilis et bellorum et pacis rebus agendis./1

That you to th'countrie give a man, 'tis acceptable,
If for the countrie fit you make him, for fields able,
Of peace and warre for all achievements profitable.

man who is transported by rage and choler, and for his justification alleadgeth the extraordinary motions of his maister, the inflammation of his face, his unwonted oaths, his chafing, his unquietnesse, and his rash precipitation.

Ora tument ira, nigrescunt sanguine venae:
Lumina Gorgoneo saevius igne micant./1

The face with anger swelles, the veines grow blacke with blood,
The eyes more fiercely shine than Gorgons fierie moode,

quick than he who counterfeits.  Heare Cicero+ speak of the love of libertie, then listen to Brutus+: their wordes will tell you and sound in your eare, the latter was a man readie to purchase it with the price of his life. Let Cicero, that father of eloquence, treate of the contempt of death, and let Seneca+ discourse of the same; the first drawes it on languishing, and would faine resolve you of a thing whereof he has not yet resolved himselfe.  He giveth you no heart, for himselfe hath none: whereas the other doth rowze, animate, and inflame you.  I never looke upon an author, be they such as write of vertue and of actions, but I curiously endevour to finde out what he was himselfe.  For the Ephon of Sparta, hearing a dissolute liver propose a very beneficial advise unto the people, commanded him to hold his peace, and desired an honest man to assume the invention of it unto himselfe, and to propound it.  Plutarkes compositions, if they be well savored, doe plainely manifest the same unto us: and I am perswaded I know him inwardly: yet would I be glad we had some memories of his owne life: and by the way I am falne into this discourse, by reason of the thanks I owe unto Aulus Gellius, in that he hath left us written this story of his manners, which fitteth my story of anger.  A slave of his, who was a lewd and vicious man, but yet whose eares were somewhat fedde with philosophicall documents, having for some faults by him committed, by the commandement of Plutarke his master been stripped naked, whilst another servant of his whipped him, grumbled in the beginning that he was whipped without reason and had done nothing: but in the end mainly crying out, he fell to railing and wronging his master, upbraiding him that he was not a true Philosopher, as he vanted himself to be, and how he had often heard him say that it was an unseemely thing in a man to be angry.  And that he had made a booke of it: and now, all plunged in rage and engulf'ed in choler, to cause him so cruelly to be beaten was cleane contrarie to his owne writing.  To whom 

Plutarke, with an unaltered and milde-setled countenance, said thus unto him: 'What, thou raskall, whereby doest thou judge I am now angrie? Doth my countenance, doth my voice, doth my colour, or doth my speech give thee any testimony that I am either moved or cholericke?  Mee seemeth mine eyes are not staringly wilde, nor my face troubled, nor voice frightful or distempered.  Doe I waxe red?  Do I foame at the mouth?  Doth any word escape me I may repent hereafter?  Doe I startle and quake?  Doe I rage and ruffle with anger?  For to tell thee true, these are the right signes of choler and tokens of anger.  Then turning to the party that whipped him: 'Continue still thy work,' quoth he, whilst this fellow and I dispute of the matter.  This is the report of Gellius.  Architas Tarentinus returning from a warre where he had beene captaine generall, found his house all out of order, husbandrie all spoiled, and by the ill government of his bailiffe, his ground all waste and unmanured; and having called for him, said thus: 'Away, bad man, for if I were not angrie I would have thee whipt for this.  Plato likewise being vexed and angrie with one of his slaves, commanded Speusippus to punish him, excusing himselfe that now being angrie he would not lay hands upon him.  Charilus the Lacedemonian, to an Helot who behaved himselfe over insolently and audaciously towards him, by the Gods (saith he) if I were not now angrie I would presently make thee die. It is a passion which pleaseth and flattereth it selfe.  How many times being moved by any false suggestion, if at that instant we be presented with any lawfull defence or true excuse, doe we fall into rage against truth and innocencie it selfe?  Touching this purpose, I have retained a wonderfull example of antiquitie.  Piso, in divers other respects a man of notable vertue, being angrie, and chafing with one of his souldiers, who returning from forage or boothbaling, could not give him an accompt where he had left a fellow-souldier of his, and thereupon concluding he had killed or made him away, forthwith 

condemned him to be hanged.  And being upon the gallowes and ready to dye behold his companion who had stragled abroade, comming home, whereat all the army rejoyced very much, and after many embracings and signes of joy between the two souldiers, the hangman brought both unto Piso, all the company hoping it would be a great pleasure unto him; but it fell out cleane contrary, for through shame and spite, his wrath, still burning, was redoubled, and with a slie devise his passion instantly presented to his minde, he made three guiltie, forsomuch as one of them was found innocent, and caused them all three to bee dispatched: the first souldier because he was alreadie condemned; the second, which had stragled abroade, by reason he was the cause of his fellowes death; and the hangman for that he had not fulfilled his generalls commandement.  Those who have to deale with froward and skittish women have no doubt seene what rage they will fall into, if when they are most angrie and chafing a man be silent and patient, and disdains to foster their anger and wrath.  Celius the orator was by nature exceedingly fretfull and cholerike.  To one who was with him at supper, a man of a milde and gentle conversation, and who because he would not move him, seemed to approve whatever he said, and yeeld to him in every thing, as unable to endure his peevishness should so passe without some nourishment, burst out into a rage and said unto him: 'For the love of God, deny me something, that we may be two.  So women are never angrie but to the end a man should againe be angrie with them, therein imitating the lawes of love.  Phocion to a man who troubled his discourse with brawling and scolding at him in most injurious manner, did nothing else but hold his peace, and give him what leisure he would to vent his choler, which done, without taking any notice of it, began his discourse againe where he had left it off.  There is no reply so sharpe as such silent contempt. Of the most cholerlike and testie man of France (which is ever an imperfection, but more excusable in a military man, 

for it must needes be granted there are in that profession some men who cannot well avoyde it) I ever say he is the patientest man I knowe to bridle his choler; it mooveth and transporteth him with such furie and violence --

     ----- magno veluti cum flamma sonore
Vigea suggeritur costis undantis aheni,
Exultantque aestu latices, furit intus aquai
Fumidus atque alte spumis exuberat amnis,
Nec jam se capit unda, volat vapor ater ad auras --/1

As when a fagot flame with hurring sounds
Under the ribbes of boyling cauldron lies,
The water swelles with heat beyond the bounds,
Whence streaming streames raging and foaming rise,
Water out-runs it selfe, blacke vapours flye to skies.

cost, which being vented and exprest, become more languishing and weake: better it is to let its pointe worke outwardly, then bend it against our selves. Omnia vitia in aperto leviora aunt: et tunc perniciosissima, quum simulata nitatesubsidunt;/1
'All vices are then lesse perilous when they lie open to bee seene, but then most pernitious when they lurke under counterfeited soundenesse.' I ever warne those of my household who by their offices-authoritie may sometimes have occasion to be angry, first to husband their anger, then not employ it upon every slight cause; for that impeacheth the effect and worth of it.  Rash and ordinary brawling is converted to a custome, and thats the reason each man contemnes it.  That which you employ against a servant for any theeving is not perceived, because it is the same he hath sundry times seene you use against him if he have not washt a glasse well or misplaced a stoole.  Secondly, that they be not angry in vaine, but ever have regard their chiding come to his eares with whom they are offended; for commonly some will brawle before he come in their presence, and chide a good while after he is gone --

Et secure petulans amentia certat,/2

Madnesse makes with it selfe a fray,
Which fondly doth the wanton play --

Mugitus veluti cum prima in praelia taurus
Terrificos ciet, atqui irasci in cornua tentat,
Arboris obnixus trunco, ventosque lacessit
Ictibus, et sparsa ad pugnam proludit arena./3

As when a furious bull to his first combats mooves
His terror-breeding lowes, his horne to anger prooves,
Striving against a trees trunke, and the wind with strokes,
His preface made to fight with scattered sand, provokes.

endevour to oppose my selfe against them and if I can I will hereafter enforce my selfe to be lesse froward and not so testy, as I shall have more excuse and inclinations to be so; although I have heretofore beene in their number that are least.  A word more to conclude this chapter:  Aristotle saith choler+ doth sometimes serve as armes unto Vertue and Valor.  It is very likely: notwithstanding such as gainsay him, answer pleasantly, it is a weapon of a new fashion and strange use.  For we moove other weapons but this mooveth us; our hand doth not guide it, but it directeth our hand; it holdeth us, and we hold not it. 

THE familiarity I have with these two men, and the aid they affoord me in my old age, and my booke meerely framed of their spoiles, bindeth me to wed and maintaine their honour.  As for Seneca, amongest a thousand petty pamphlets those of the pretended reformed religion have published, for the defence of their cause, which now and then proceede from a good hand, and which, pity it is, it should not be employed in more serious and better subjects, I have heretofore seene one who, to prolong and fill up the similitude he would finde betweene the government of our unfortunate late King Charles the Ninth and that of Nero, compareth the whilom Lord Cardinall of Lorraine, unto Seneca; their fortunes to have been both chiefe men in the government of their Princes, and therewithall their manners, their conditions, and their demeanours.  Wherein (in mine opinion) he doth the said Lord Cardinall great honour: for although I be one of those that highly respect his spirit his worth, his eloquence, his zeale towards his religion, and the service of his King; and his good fortune to have beene borne in an age wherein he was so new, so rare, and therewithall so necessary for the commonwealth, to have a clergie man of such dignitie and nobility, sufficient and capable of so weighty a charge; yet to confesse the truth, I esteeme not his capacitie such, nor his vertue so exquisitely unspotted, nor so entire or constante as that of Seneca.  Now this booke whereof I speak, to come to his intention, maketh a most injurious description of Seneca, having borrowed his reproaches from Dion
<Mont2-517> 

the historian, to whose testimony I give no credit at all: for besides he is inconstant, as one who after he hath called Seneca exceeding wise, and shortly after termed him a mortall enemy to Neroes vices, in other places makes him covetous, given to usurie, ambitious, base-minded, voluptuous, and under false pretences and fained shewes, a counterfet philosopher; his vertue appeareth so lively, and wisedome so vigorous in his writings, and the defence of these imputations is so manifest, as wel of his riches as of his excessive expences, that I beleeve no witnesse to the contrary. Moreover, there is great reason we should rather give credit to Romane historians in such things then to Graecians and strangers, whereas Tacitus and others speake very honourably of his life and death, and in other circumstance declare him to have beene a most excellent and rarely vertuous man, I wil alleadge no other reproach against Dion's judgement then this, which is unavoydable; that is, his understanding of the Roman affaires is so weake and il advised as he dareth defend and maintaine Julius Caesars+ cause against Pompey+, and blusheth not to justifie Antonius+ against Cicero+. But let us come to Plutarke.  John Bodin is a good moderne author, and endowed with much more judgement then the common rabble of scriblers and blur-papers which now adayes stuffe stationers shops, and who deserveth to be judged, considered, and had in more then ordinary esteeme.  Neverthelesse I finde him somewhat malapert and bolde in that passage of his 'Methods of Hisiorie,' when he accuseth Plutarke, not only of ignorance (wherein I would have let him say his pleasure, for that is not within my element, but also that he often writeth things altogether incredible and meerely fabulous (these are his very words).  If he had simply said things otherwise then they are, it had been no great reprehension; for what we have not seene we receive from others and upon trust; and I see him sometime, wittingly and in good earnest, report one and same story diversly; as the judgements of three best captaines that ever were, spoken by 

Hanibal, is otherwise in Flaminius his life, and otherwise in Pyrrhus. But to taxe him to have taken incredible and impossible things for ready payment is to accuse the most judicious author of the world of want of judgement.  And see here his example:  As, saith be, when he reports that a childe of Lacedemon suffered all his belly and gutts to be torne out by a cubbe or young foxe, which he bad stolne and kept close under his garment, rather then he would discover his theft.  First, I finde this example ill chosen; forasmuch as it is hard to limit the powers of the soules faculties, whereas of corporall forces, we have more law to limite and know them; and therefore had I been to write of such a subject, I would rather have made choyce of an example of this second kinde.  And some there be lesse credible.  As amongst others that which he reported of Pyrrhus, who being sore wounded, gave so great a blow with a sword unto one of his enemies, armed at all assayes and with all pieces, as he cleft him from the crowns of the head downe to the groine, so that the body fell in two pieces.  In which example I finde no great wonder, nor do I admit of his excuse wherewith he cloaketh Plutarke: to have added this word (as it is said) to forewarne us and restraine our beliefe.  For if it be not in things received by authoritie and reverence of antiquity or religion, neither would himselfe have received nor proposed to us to believe things in themselves incredible: and that (as it is said) hee doth not here sette downe this phrase to that purpose, may easily be perceived by what himselfe in other places telleth us upon the subject of the Lacedemonian childrens patience, of examples happened in his time much harder to be perswaded: as that which Cicero hath also witnessed before him, because (as he saith) he had been there himselfe: that even in their times there were children found prepared to endure all manner of patience, whereof they made trial before Diana's altar, and which suffered themselves to be whipped till the blood trilled downe all parts of their body, not onely without crying, but also without

sobbing; and some who voluntarily suffered themselves to be scourged to death.  And what Plutarke also reporteth, and a hundred other witnesses averre, that assisting at a sacrifice, a burning coale happened to fall into the sleeve of a Lacedemonian childe, as he was busie at incensing, suffered his arme to burne so long untill the smel of his burnt flesh came to all the by standers.  There was nothing, according to their custome, so much called their reputation in question, and for which they endured more blame and shame, than to be surprised stealing.  I am so well instructed of those mens greatnes of courage, that this report doth not only seeme incredible to me as to Bodin, but I do not so much as deeme it rare, or suppose it strange.  The Spartane story is full of thousands of much more rare and cruell examples; then according to this rate, it containeth nothing but miracle.  Concerning this point of stealing, Marcellinus reporteth that whilst hee lived there could never be found any kinde of torment that might in any sort compell the Egyptians surprised filching (which was much used amongst them) to confesse and tell but their names.  A Spanish peasant being laide upon the racke about the complices of the murther of the, Pretor Lucius Piso, in the midst of his torments cried out his friends should not stir, but with all security assist him, and that it was not in the power of any griefe or paine to wrest one word of confession from him: and the first day nothing else could possibly be drawn from him.  The next morrow, as he was led towarde the racke to be tormented anew, he by strong violence freed himselfe from out his keepers bands, and so furiously ranne with his bead against a wall, that he burst his braines out, and presently fell down dead.  Epicharis having glutted and wearied the moody cruelty of Neroes satellites or officers, and stoutly endured their fire, their beatings, and their engines a whole day long without any one voyce or word of revealing hir conspiracy, and the next day after, being againe brought to the torture with her limbs bruised and broken, convayed the lace or string of her gowne 

over one of the pillars of the chair wherein she sate, with a sliding knot in it, into which sodainly thrusting her head she strangled her selfe with the weight of her body.  Having the courage to dye so, and steale from the first torments, seemeth she not purposely to have lent her life to the trial of her patience of the precedent day only to mocke that tyrant and encourage others to attempt the like enterprise against him?  And he that shall enquire of our argolettiers or freebooters what experiences they have had in these our late civil wars, shall no doubt find effects and examples of patience, of obstinacy and stif-necknednes in these our miserable dayes, and amidst the effeminate and puling wordlings far beyond the Egyptians, and well worthie to be compared to those alreadie reported of Spartan vertue.  I know there have been found seely hoores who have rather endure to have their feet broild upon a gridyron, their finger ends crusht and wrung with the locke of a pistoll, their eyes all bloody to be thrust out of their heads with wringing and wresting of a cord-about their foreheads, before they would so much as be ransomed.  I have seene and spoken with one who had beene left all naked in a ditch for dead, his necke all bruised and swolne, with a halter about it, wherewith he had beene dragged a whole night at a horses taile through thick and thin, with a hundred thrusts in his body given him with daggers, not to kill him outright, but to grieve and terrifie him, and who had patiently endured all that, and lost both speech and sense, fully resolved (as himselfe told me) rather to die a thousand deaths (as verily, if you apprehend what he suffered, he past more than one full death) then promise any ransome; yet was he one of the wealthiest husbandman in all his country.  How many have beene seene who have patiently endured to be burnt and roasted for unknown and wilful opinions which they had borrowed of others; my selfe have knowne a hundred and a hundred women (for the saying is, Gaskoine heads have some prerogative in that) whom you might sooner have made to bite a red-hot piece of iron than recant an opinion they had 

conceived in anger.  They will be exasperated and grow more fell against blowes and compulsion, and he who first invented the tale of that woman which by no threats or stripes would leave to call her husband pricke-lowse, and being cast into a pond and duckt under water, lifted up her bands and jovning her two thumb-nails in act to kill lice above her head, seemed to call him lousie still, devised a fable whereof in truth we dayly see the expres image in divers womens obstinacie and wilfulnesse.  And yet obstinacy is the sister of constancy+, at least in vigor and stedfastnesse.      A man must not judge that which is possible and that which is not according to that which is credible and incredible to our sense and understanding, as I have already said elsewhere.  And it is a great fault, wherein the greater number of men doe dayly fall (I speake not this of Bodin) to make a difficulty in believing that of others which themselves neither can nor would doe.  Every man perswades himselfe that the chiefe forme of humane nature is in himselfe; according to her must all others be directed.  The proceedings that have no reference to hers are false and fained.  Is any thing proposed unto him of another mans faculties or actions?  The first thing he calls to the judgement of his consultation is his owne examples; according as it goeth in him, so goeth the worlds order.  Oh dangerous sottishnesse and intollerable foppery!  I consider some men a farre-off, beyond and above my selfe, namely amongst those ancient ones: and although I manifestly acknowledge mine owne insufficiency to follow or come neere them by a thousand paces, I cease not to keepe them still in view, and to judge of those wardes and springs that raise them so high the seedes whereof I somewhat perceive in my selfe as likewise I doe of the mindes extreame basenes which amazeth me nothing at all, and I misbelieve no more.  I see the turne those give to wind up themselves, and I admire their greatnesse, and those starts which I perceive to be so wondrous faire, I embrace them: and if with my strength I reach not unto them, at least my 

judgement doth most willingly apply it selfe unto them.  The other example he alledgeth of things incredible by Plutarke, is that reported by Plutarke, that Agesilaus was fined by the Ephories because he had drawne the hearts and good wills of all his fellow-citizens unto himselfe alone.  I know not what marke of falsehood or shew of impossibility he findes in it; but so it is that Plutarke speaks there of things which in all likelyhood were better knowne to him then to us: and as it was not strange in Greece to see men punished and exiled onely because they were too popular and pleased the common people over much.  Witnesse the Ostracisme amongst the Athenians, and the Petalisme amongst the Siracusans.  There is another accusation in the same place which for Plutarkes sake doth somewhat touch me, where he saith that he hath very well and in good truth sorted the Romanes with the Romanes, and the Graecians amongst themselves, but not the Romanes with the Greacians, witnesse (saith he) Demosthenes and Cicero, Cato and Aristides, Sylla and Lysander, Marcellus and Pelopidas, Pompey and Aegisilaus, deeming thereby that he hath favoured the Graecians by giving them so unequall companions.  It is a justreproving of that which is most excellent and commendable in Plutarke: for in his comparisons (which is the most admirable part of his worke, and wherein in mine opinion he so much pleased himselfe) the faithfulnesse and sinceritie of his judgement equalleth their depth and weight.  He is a Philosopher that teacheth us vertue. {Plutark+} But let us see whether we can warrant him from this reproch of prevarication and falsehood.  That which I imagine hath given occasion or ground to this judgement is that great and farre-spreading lustre of the Romane names, which still are tingling in our ears and never out of our mindes.  Wee doe not thinke Demosthenes may equall the glory of a consull, a proconsul and a questor, of this great commonwealth of Rome.  But he that shall impartially consider the truth of the matter, and men in themselves, which Plutarke did cheiefly aime at, and 

more, to balance their custome, their natural dispositions and their sufficiencie, then their fortune:  I am of a cleane opposite opinion to Bodin, and thinke that Cicero and old Cato are much behind or short of their parallels.  For this purpose I would rather have chosen the example of yong Cato compared to Pbocion: for in that paire might well be found a more likely disparitie for the Romanes advantage.  As for Marcellus, Sylla, and Pompey, I see very well how their exploits of warre be more swolne, glorious and pompous then the Graecians, whom Plutarke compareth unto them; but the most vertuous and fairest actions, no more in warre then elsewhere, are not alwaies the most famous.  I often see the names of some captaines smothered under the brightnesse of other names of lesser desert, witnesse Labienus, Ventidius+, Telesinus, and divers others.  And to take him in that sense, were I to complaine for the Graecians, might not I say that Camillus is much lesse comparable unto Themistocles, the Gracchi to Agis and Cleomenes, and Numa to Lycurgus?  But it is follie at one glance to judge of things with so many and divers faces.  When Plutarke compares them, he doth not for all that equall them.  Who could more eloquently and with more conscience note their differences?  Doth he compare the victories, the exploites of armes, the power of the armies conducted by Pompey and his triumphs unto those of Agesilaus?  I do not believe (saith he) that Xenophon himself (were he living) though it were granted him to write his pleasure of Agesilaus durst ever dare to admit any comparison betweene them: seemeth he to equall Lysander to Sylla?  There is no comparison (saith he) neither in number of victories nor hazard of battel betweene them: for Lysander onely obtained two sea-battels, &c.  This is no derogation from the Romanes.  If hee have but simply presented them unto the Graecians, what ever disparity may be between them, he hath not in any sort wronged them.  And Plutarke doth not directly counterpoise them.  In some there is none preferred before 

others; hbe compareth the parts and the circumstances one after another, and severally judgeth of them.  If therefore any would goe about to convince him of favour, he should narrowly sift out some particular judgement; or in generall and plaine termes say, hee hath missed in sorting such a Graecian to such a Romane, forasmuch as there are other more sortable and correspondent, and might better be compared, as having more reference one unto another. 

PHILOSOPHY thinketh she hath not il imployed hir meanes, having yeelded the sovereign rule of our mind, and the authoritie to restraine our appetites, unto reason.  Amongst which, those who judge there is none more violent than those which love begetteth, have this for their opinion, that they holde both of body and soule; and man is wholly possessed with them: so that health it selfe depended of them, and physick is sometimes constrained to serve them instead of a Pandership. {lust+} But contrariwise, a man might also say that the comixture of the body doth bring abatement and weaknesse unto them; because such desires are subject to satiety and capable of materiall remedies.  Many who have endevored to free and exempt their mindes from the continuall alarumes which this appetite did assail them with, have used incisions, yea and cut-off the mooving, turbulent and unruly parts.  Others have alayed the force and fervency of them by frequent applications of cold things, as snow and vinegar.  The haire-cloths which our forefathers used to weare for this purpose, whereof some made shirts, and some waste-bands or girdles, to torment their reines.  A prince told me not long since, that being very yong and waiting in the Court of King Francis the First, upon a solemne festival day, when all the Court endevored to be in their best clothes, a humor possessed him to put on a shirt of haire-cloth, which he yet keepoth, and had beene his fathers: but what devotion soever possessed him, he could not possibly endure untill night to put it off againe, and was sick a long
<Mont2-526> 

time after, protesting he thought no youthly heat could be so violent but the use of this receipt would coole and alay; of which he perhaps never assayed the strongest?  For, experience sheweth us, that such emotion doth often maintaine it selfe under base, rude, and slovenly cloathes: and haire cloathes doe not ever make those poore that weare them.  Zenocrates proceeded more rigorously; for his Disciples, to make triall of his continencie, having convayed that beauteous and famous curtizan Lais naked into his bed, saving the weapons of her beauty, wanton allurements, and amorous or love-procuring potions, feeling that, mugre all, philosophicalf discourses and strict rules, his skittish body beganne to mutinie, he caused those members to be burned which had listened to that rebellion.  Whereas the passions that are in the minde, as ambition, covetousnesse and others, trouble reason much more: for it can have no ayde but from its owne meanes; nor are those appetites capable of satiety but rather sharpened by enjoying and augmented by possession.  The example alone of Julius Caesar may suffice to show us the disparitie of these appetites, for never was man more given to amorous delights.  The curious and exact care he had of his body is an authenticall witnesse of it, forsomuch as he used the most lascivious meanes that then were in use; as to have the haires of his body smeered and perfumed al over with an extreame and labored curiositie; being of himselfe a goodly personage, white, of a tall and comely stature, of a cheerefull and seemely countenance, his face ful and round and his eies browne lively, if at least Suetonius may be believed; for the statues which nowadaies are to be seene of him in Rome answere not altogether this portraiture we speake of.  Besides his wives, which he changed foure times, without reckoning the bies or amours in his youth with Nicomedes King of Bythinia, he had the maiden-head of that so farr and highly- renowned Queene of Egypt, Cleopatra; witnesse yong Caesarion whom he begotte of hir.  He also made'love unto Eunoe, Queene of Mauritania, and at Rome to 

Posthumia, wife unto Servius Sulpitius: to Lolio, wife to Gabinius; to Tertulla, of Crassus; yea unto Mutia, wife to great Pompey, which, as historians say, was the cause hir Husband was divorced from her.  Which thing Plutarke confesseth not to have knowne.  And the Curions both father and sonne, twitted Pompey in the teeth, at what time he took Caesars daughter to wife, that he made himselfe sonne in law to one who had made him cuckold, and himself was wont to call Egyptus.  Besides all this number, he entertained Servilia, the sister of Cato and mother to Marcus Brutus, whence (as divers hold) proceedeth that great affection he ever bare to Marcus Brutus; for his mother bare him at such a time as it was not unlikely he might be borne of him.  Thus (as me seemeth) have I good reason to deeme him a man extreamly addicted to all amorous licenciousnesse, and of a wanton-lascivious complexion. But the other passion of ambition, wherewith he was infinitely affected and much tainted, when he came once to withstand the same it made him presently to give ground.  And touching this point, when I call Mahomet to remembrance (I meane him that subdued Constantinople, and who brought the final extermination of the name of Graecians) I know not where these two passions are more equal ballanced, equally an indefatigable letcher and a never-tired souldier; but when in his life they seeme to strive and concurre one with another, the mutinous heate doth ever gourmandize the amorous flame.  And the latter, although out of naturall season did never attain to a ful and absolute authority, but when he perceived himself to be so aged that he was utterly unable longer to undergoe the burthen of war.  That which is aleadged, as an example on the contrary side, of Ladislaus, King of Naples, s very wel worth the noting, who, though he were an excellent, courageous and ambitious captaine, proposed unto himselfe, as the principall scope of his ambition, the execution of his sensuality, and enjoying of some rare and unmatched beauty.  So was his death: having by a continuall tedious siege 

brought the city of Florence to so narrow a pinch that the inhabitants were ready to yeeld him the victory, he yeelded the same to them upon condition they would deliver into his hands a wench of excellent beauty that was in the city, of whom he had heard great commendations, which they were enforced to graunt him, and so by a private injury to ward off the publike ruine of the city.  She was daughter of a notable rare phisician and whilest he lived chiefe of his profession who seeing himselfe engaged in so stuprous a necessitie, resolved upon an haughty enterprise.  Whilst all were busie adorning his daughter, and besetting her with costly jewels, that she might the more delight and please this new kingly lover, he also gave her an exquisitively-wrought and sweetly-perfuimed handkercher, to use in their first approches and embracements, a thing commonly in use amongst the women of that country.  This handkercher, strongly empoysonped according to the cunning Skill of his art, comming to wipe both their enflamed secret parts and open pores, did so readily convay and disperse its poyson, that having sodainly changed the heate into colde, they immediately deceased one in anothers armes.  But I will now returne to Caesar+. His pleasures could never make him lose one minute of an houre, nor turne one step from the occasions that might in any way further his advancement.  This passion did so sovereignly oversway all others, and possessed his mind with so uncontrouled an authority, that shee carryed him whither she list.  Truely I am grieved when in other things I consider this mans greatnesse, and the wondrous parts that were in him; so great sufficiencie in all maner of knowledge and learning, as there is almost no science wherein he hath not written. Hee was so good an orator, that diverse have preferred his eloquence before Ciceroes; and himselfe (in mine opinion) in that facultie thought himselfe nothing short of him.  And his two Anti-Catoes were especially written to over-ballance the eloquence which Cicero had emploied in his Cato.  And for all other matters, 

was ever minde so vigilant, so active, and so patient of labour as his? And doubtlesse it was also embellished with sundry rare seedes of vertue - I meane lively, naturall, and not counterfeits.  He was exceeding sober, and so homely in his feeding, that Oppius reporteth how upon a time, through a certaine cookes negligence, his meate being dressed with a kind of medicinable oyle instead of olive-oyle, and so brought to the boorde, although he found it, yet he fed hartily of it only because he would noth shame his hoste: another time he caused his baker to be whipped because he had served him with other than common household bread.  Cato himselfe was wont to say of him, that he was the first sober man had addrest himselfe to the ruine of his country.  And whereas the same Cato called him one day drunkard, it hapned in this maner.  Being both together in the Senate house, where Catelines conspiracie was much spoken of, wherein Caesar was greatly suspected to have a hand, a note was by a friend of his brought, and in very secret sort delivered him, which Cato perceiving, supposing it might be something that the conspirators advertised him of, instantly summoned him to shew it, which Caesar, to avoid a greater suspicion, refused not: it was by chance an amorous letter which Servilia, Catoes sister, writ to him:  Cato having read it, threw it at him, saying, 'Hold it againe, thou drunkard,' I say it was rather a word of disdaine and anger than an reproch of this vice: as often we nickname that anger us with the first nicknames of reproaches that come into our mouth, though meerely impertinent to those with whom we fall out.  Considering that the vice wherewith Cato charged him hath neare coherencie unto that wherein he had surprised Caesar: for Venus and Bacchus (as the vulgar he saith) agree well together; but with me, Venus is much more blithe and gamesome, being accompanied with sobrietie.  The examples of his mildenes and clemencie+ towards such as had offended him are infinite:  I meane, besides 

those he shewed during the civill warres, which (as by his own writing may plainly appeare) he used to blandish and allure his enemies, to make them feare his future domination and victories the lesse.  But if any shall say those examples are not of validitie to witnes his genuine and natural affabilitie, we may lawfully answere, that at least they shew us a wonderfull confidence and greatnes of courage to have been in him.  It hath often befalne him to send whole armies backe again to his enemies after he had vanquished them, without dayning to binde them so much as with an oath, if not to favour, at least not to beare armes against him.  He hath three or foure times taken some of Pompeyes chief captaines prisoners, and as often set them at libertie againe.  Pompey declared all such as would not follow and accompany him in his wars to be his enemies; and he caused those to be proclaimed as friends who either would not stirre at all, or not effectually arme themselves against him.  To such of his captaines as fled from him, to procure other conditions, he sent them their weapons, their horses, and all other furniture.  The citties he had taken by maine force he freed to follow what faction they would, giving them no other garison then the memorie of his clemencie and mildnes.  In the day of his great battail of Pharsalia, he expresly inhibited that, unles they were driven to unavoydalle extremities no man should lay bands upon any Romane cittizen.  In my judgemnt these are very hazardous partes, and it is no wonder if, in the civill warres tumultuous broiles we have now on foote, those that fight for the ancient lawes and state of their country as he did, doe not follow and imitate the example.  They are extraordinary meanes, and which onely belongs to Caesars fortune, and to his admirable foresight, successfully to direct and happily to conduct them.  When I consider the incomparable greatnesse and unvaluable worth of his minde, I excuse Victorie in that shee could not well give him over in this most unjust and unnatural cause.  But to returne to his clemencie 

we have diverse genuine and lively examples, even in the time of his al swaying government, when all things were reduced into his hands, and bee needed no longer to dissemble.  Caius Memmius had written certaine detracting and railing orations against him, which he at full and most sharpely had answered, neverthelesse hee shortly after helped to make him consul.  Caius Calvus, who had composed diverse most injurious epigrams against him, having employed sundrie of his friendes to bee reconciled to him againe, Caesar descended to write first unto him.  And our good Catullus, who under the name of Mamurra had so rudely and bitterly railed against him, at last comming to excuse himselfe, Caesar that very night made him to suppe at his owne table.  Having beene advertised how some were overlavish in rayling against him, all he did was but in a publike oration to declare how he was advertised of it.  His enemies he feared lesse than he hated them.  Certaine conspiracies and conventicles were made against his life, which being discovered unto him, he was contented by an edict to publish how he was thoroughly informed of them, and never prosecuted the authors.  Touching the respect he ever bare unto his friends, Caius Oppius travelling unto him, and falling very sick, having but one chamber, he resigned the same unto him, and himselfe was contented to lie all night abroade and upon the bare ground.  Concerning his justice, he caused a servant of his whom he exceedingly loved, to be executed, {Hal+} forsomuch as he had laine with the wife of a Roman knight, although no man sued or complained of him.  Never was man that showed more moderation in his victorie or more resolution in his adverse fortune.  But all these noble inclinations, rich gifts, worthy qualities, were altered, smothered, and eclipsed by this furious passion of ambition; by which he suffred himselfe to be so farre misled that it may be well affirmed she, onely, ruled the sterne of all his actions.  Of a liberall man she made him a common theefe, that so he might the better supply his profusion and prodigalitie; and made him 

utter that vile and most injurious speech, that if the wickedest and most pernicious men of the world had for his service and furtherance beene faithfull unto him, he would to the utmost of his power have cherished and preferred them as well as if they had beene the honestest: it so besotted and, as it were, made him drunke with so extreame vanitie, that in the presence of his fellow-citizens, he durst vaunt himselfe to have made that great and farre-spread Romane Commonwealth a shapelesse and bodilesse name, and pronounce that his sentences or answeres should thenceforward serve as lawes; and sitting to receive the whole bodie of the Senate comming toward him, and suffer himselfe to be adored, and in his presence divine honours to be done him.  To conclude, this only vice (in mine opinion) lost and overthrew in him the fairest naturall and richest ingenuitie that ever was, and hath made his memorie abominable to all honest mindes, insomuch as by the ruine of his countrey and subversion of the mightiest state and most flourishing commonwealth that ever the world shall see, he went about to procure his glorie.  A man might contrariwise finde diverse examples of greate persons, whom pleasure hath made to forget the conduct of their owne affaires, as Marcus Antonius and others: but where love and ambition should be in one equall balance and with like forces mate one another, I will never doubt but Caesar would gaine the prize and gole of the victorie. But to come into my path again.  It is much, by discourse of reason, to bridle our appetites, or by violence to force our members to containe themselves within the bonds of dutie.  But to whippe us, for the interest of our neighbours; not only to shake off this sweete pleasing passion, which tickleth us with selfe-lioving pleasure we apprehend and feele to see our selves gratefull to others and of all men beloved and sued unto, but also to hate and scorne those graces which are the cause of it, and to condemne our beauty because some others will be set on fire with it, I have seene few examples like this.  Spurina, a young gentleman of Tuscanie - 

Qualis gemma micat fulvum quae dividit aurum,
Aut collo decus aut capiti vel quale per artem
Inclusum buxo, aut Ericia terebintho,
Lucet ebur/1

- As when a precious stone cleare rayes doth spread,
Set in pure golde, adorning necke or head
Or as faire iv'ry shines in boxe enclos'd,
Or workemanly with mountaine gumme dispos'd -

they enjoyne themselves.  It is a kinde of death to avoide the paine of well doing or trouble of well living.  They may have another prise, but the prise of uneasiness methinks they never had.  Nor that in difficulty there be anything that is amid the waves of the worldly multitude, beyond keeping himselfe upright and untainted, answering loyally and truely discharging al members and severall parts of his charge.  It is happily more easie for one in honest sort to neglect and passe over all the sexe, than duely and wholly to maintaine himselfe in his wifes company.  And a man may more incuriously fall into povertie then into plenteousnesse; being justly dispenced.  Custome, according to reason, doth leade to more sharpnesse than abstinence hath. Moderation is a vertue much more toylesome than sufferance+. The chaste and well living of yong Scipio hath a thousand severall fashions; that of Diogenes but one.  This doth by so much more exceed all ordinary lives in innocencie and unspottednesse as those which are most exquisite and accomplished exceed in profit and out-goe it in force.

IT is reported of divers chiefs generals in warre that they have particularly affected some peculiar book or other, as Alexander the Great highly esteemed Homer; Scipio, Africanus, Xenophon; Marcus Brutus, Polybius; Charles the Fifth, Philip de Comines: and it is lately averred that in some places, and with some men, Machiavell is much accompted of: but our late Marshall Strozzi, who had made especiall choice to love Caesar, without doubt I thinke of all other chose best, for truely he ought to be the breviary of all true souldiers, as being the absolute and perfect chiefe patterne of military profession.  And God hee knowes with what grace and with what decorum he hath embellished this rich subject, with so pure a kinde of speech, so pleasing and so absolutely perfect, that to my taste there are no writings in the world which in this subiect may be compared to his. I will heere register certaine particular and rare parts concerning his maner of war, which yet remaine in my memory.  His armie beeing somewhat afrighted upon the report that ranne of the great forces which K.  Iuba brought against him, instead of abating the opinion his souldiers had conceived of it, and to diminish the meanes or forces of his enemie, having caused them to be assembled altogether, thereby to assure and encourage them, he tooke a cleane contrary course to that which in like cases we are accustomed to do, for he had them trouble themselves no more to finde out the number of the forces which his enemies brought against him, for
<Mont2-536> 

himselfe had already true knowledge and certaine intelligence of them, and told them a number farre exceeding both the truth and report of them: following what Cyrus commandeth in Xenophon.  Forasmuch as the deceit is not of like interest, for a man to finde his enemies in effect weaker than he hoped, then stronger indeed having once conceived an opinion of their weaknesse.  He enured all his souldiers simply to obey, without controling, gaine-saying, or speaking of their captaines desseignes, which he never communicated unto them, but upon the last point of execution; and was pleased, if by chance they had any inkling of them, so to deceive them.  Presently to change his opinion: and having prefixed a place to quarter in at night, he hath often beene seene to march further, and lengthen his journey, namely if the weather were foule, or if it rained.  The Swizzers in the beginning of his warres in Gaule, having sent toward him to give them free passage through the Romane countries, and he being resolved by force to empeach them, did notwithstanding shew them very good lookes, and tooke certaine dayes respit to give them an answer.  During which time he might have leisure to assemble his armie together.  These poore people knew not how wel he could husband time: for he often repeated that the skill to embrace occasions in the nick is the chiefest part of an absolute captaine: and truly the diligence he used in his exploit is incredible, and the like was never heard of.  If he were not over-consciencious in that under colour of some treatie, parle or accord, to take any advantage of his enemies, he was as little scrupulous in that he required no other vertue in his souldiers but valour; and except mutinie and disobedience he punished not greatly other vices.  After his victories he often gave them the reines to all licenciousness, for a while dispencing them from all rules of military discipline; saying, moreover, his souldiers were so well instructed that though they were in their gayest clothes, pranked up, muskt and perfumed, they would, notwithstanding, runne furiously 

to any combate.  And in truth he loved to see them richly armed, and made them weare gilt, graven and silvered armours, that their care to keepe them cleane and bright might make them more fierce and readie to defend themselves.  Speaking to them, he ever called them by the name of fellow soldiers, {common+} a name used at this day by some captaines; which his successor Augustus afterward reformed, esteeming he had done it for the necessitie of his affaires, and to flatter the hearts of those which followed him but voluntarily.

     -----Rheni mihi Caesar in undis,
Dux erat, hic socius facinus quos inquinat, aequat./1

When Caasar past the Rheine he was my generall,
My fellow heere; sinne whom it staines makes fellowes-all.

to his souldiers before any fight, for where he would shew to have beene either surprised or urged, he ever alledgeth this, that he had not so much leisure as to make an oration to his souldiers or armie: before that great battle against those of Touruay, Caeser (saith he) having disposed of the rest, ranne sodaineli whither fortune carried him, to exhort his men, and meeting with the tenth legion, he had not leisure to say any thing else unto them but that they should remember their former wonted vertue, they should nothing be danted, they should stoutly resist the encounter of their adversaries; and forsomuch as the enemie was come within an arrow-shot unto him, he gave the signal of the battel; and sodainely going elsewere to encourage others, he found them already together by the eares: see here what himself saith of it in that place.  Verely his tongue hath in diverse places much bestead, and done him notable service, and even whilst he lived his military eloquence was so highly regarded that many of his armie were seene to copie and keepe his orations; by which meanes diverse volumes were filled with them, and continued many ages after his death, his speech and particular graces, so that his familiar friends, and namely Augustus, bearing that rehearsed which had beene collected of his, knew by the phrases and words what was his or not.  The first time that with any publike charge he issued out of Rome, he came in eight dayes to the river of Rhone, having ever one or two secretaries before him, who continually writ what he endited, and one bebinde him that carried his sword.  And surely if one did nothing but runne up and downe, he could very hardly attaine to that promptitude wherewith ever being victorious, having left Gaule, and following Pompey to Brundusium, in eighteene dayes he subdued all Italie; returned from Brundusium to Rome, and thence went even to the heart of Spaine, where he passed many extreme difficulties in the warres betweene Afranius and Petreius, and at the long siege of Marseille; from whence he returned into Macedon, overthrew the 

Romane armie at Pharsalia; thence pursuing Pompey he passed into Egypt, which he subdued; from Egypt he came into Syria, and into the countrie of Pontus; where hee fought with Pharnaces; thence into Affrica, where he defeated Scipio and Iuba; and thence through Italie he returned into Spaine, where he overthrew Pompeyes children

Ocior et caeli flammis et tigride faeta,
Ac veluti montis saxum de vertice praeceps
Cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber
Proluit, aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas,
Fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu,
Exultatque solo, silvas, armenta, virosque,
Involvens secum./1

Swifter then breed-yong tiger, or heav'ns flash,
And as from mountaines top a headlong stone,
Rent-off by winds, or by stormes troublous dash
Washt-off, or loos'd by age of yeares are gone,
Crosse-carried with great force that hill-like masse
Bounds on the earth, and rowles with it in one
Woods, herds, and men, and all that neere it was.

command all his armie to swimme over a river without any necessitie.

     ----- rapuitque ruens in praelia miles,
Quod fugiens timuisset iter, mox uda receptis
Membra fovent armis, gelisque a gurgite cursu
Restituunt artus,/1

The Souldier rides that way in hast to fight
Which yet he would have feared in haste of flight
His limbs with water wet and cold before,
With armes he covers, running doth restore.

Sic tauriformis volvitur Aufidus,
Qui Regna Dauni perfluit Appuli,
Dum saevit, horrendamque cultis
Diluviem meditator agris./2

So Bull-fac'd Aufidas still rowling growes,
Which through Apulias ancient kingdome flowes,
When he doth rage in threatning meditation
To bring on fair fields fearefull inundation.

be was, without shield or target, he ranne headlong to the front of his enemies; which many other times happened unto him.  Hearing once how his men were besieged, he past disguised through the midst and thickest of his enemies campe, so to encourage and awe them with his presence.  Having crossed the way to Dyrrhachium, with very few forces, and perceiving the rest of his army (the conduct whereof hee had left unto Antonius, to be somewhat slow in comming, he undertooke all alone to repasse the sea, notwithstanding a violent and raging tempest; and secretly stole himselfe away to fetch the rest of his forces: all the havens on that side, yea and all the sea, being possessed by Pompey.  And concerning the enterprises he underwent with armed hand, there are divers of them, which in respect of the hazard, exceede all discourse of military reason: for, with how weake meanes undertooke he to subdue the kingdom of Egypt, and afterward to front the forces of Scipio and Iuba, which were tenne parts greater than his?  Mee thinkes such men have had a kinde of more than humane confidence of their fortune: and himselfe was wont to say that haughty enterprises were to be executed and not consuIted upon.  After the battell of Pharsalia, having sent his armie before into Asia and himselfe with onely one ship passing through the strait of Hellespont, he met on the seas with Lucius Cassius, attended on with ten tall shippes of warre; he was so farre from shunning him, that he durst not only stay for him, but with all haste make toward and summon him to yeeld himselfe to his mercie, which he did.  Having undertaken that furious siege of Alesia, wherein were fourescore thousand men of defence, and all France up in armes, with a resolution to runne upon him and raise the siege, and having an armie on foote of one hundred and nine thousand horse, and two hundred fortie thousand foote; what a fond hardy and outrageous confidence was it in him that he would never give over his attempt and resolve in two so great difficulties together?  Which he notwithstanding underwent; and after he 

bad obtained so notable a battell of those which were without, be soone reduced those that were besieged in the towne to his mercy.  The very like happened to Lucullus at the siege of Tigranocerta, against King Tigrane, but with an unlike condition, seeing his enemies demissenesse, with whom Lucullus was to deale.  I will heere note two rare and extraordinary events touching the siege of Alesia; the one, that the French men being all assembled together with a purpose to meet with Caesar, having diligently survaied and exactly numbered all their forces, resolved in their counsell to cutte off a great part of this huge multitude for feare they might breed a confusion. This example is new, to feare to be over-many; yet if it be well taken, it is very likely that the bodie of an armie ought to have a well-proportioned greatnesse, and ordered to indifferent bounds.  Whether it he for the difficulty to feed the same or to lead it in order and keepe it in awe, and we may easily verifle by examples that these numerous and infinite armies have seldome brought any notable thing to passe: according to Cyrus his saying in Xenophon.  It is not the multitude of men, but the number of good men, that causeth an advantage: the rest rather breeding confusion and trouble than helpe or availe.  And Bajazeth tooke the chiefest foundation of his resolution, against the advice of all his captaines, to joyne fight with Tamburlane, onely because the innumerable number of men which his enemie brought into the field gave him an assured hope of rout and confusion. Scanderbeg, a sufficient and most expert judge in such a case, was wont to say that tenne or twelve thousand trusty and resolute fighting men ought to suffice any sufficient chieftaine of warre to warrant his reputation in any kinde of military exploite.  The other point, which seemeth to be repugnant both unto custome and reason of warre, is, that Vercingentorix, who was appointed chiefe generall of all the forces of the revolted Gaules, undertooke to immure and shutte himselfe into, Alesia.  For he that hath the commandement of a whole countrie ought never to engage himselfe, except 

in cases of extremities and where all his rest and last refuge goeth on it, and hath no other hope left him but the defence of such a place. Otherwise he ought to keepe himselfe free, that so he may have meanes to provide in all parts of his government.  But to returne to Caesar: he became in time somewhat more slow, heedy, and considerate, as witnesseth his familiar friend Oppius; deeming he should not so easily hazard the honour of so many victories, which one onely disaster or misencounter might make him lose.  It is that the Italians are wont to say, when they will or blame or reproach any man with this overdaring or rash fond-hardinesse, which is often seene in yong men, calling them bisognosi d'onore, {Hotspur+} as much to say as needy of honour: and that being yet hungrier greedy, and voyd of reputation, they have reason to seeke after it, whatsoever it may cost them; which they should never doe that have already acquired the same.  There may be some just moderation in this desire of glory, and some satietie in this appetite as wel as in others; diverse doe so practize it.  He was farre from that religion of the ancient Romans who in their warres would never prevaile but with meere and genuine vertue: but rather joyned more conscience unto it than nowadaies we should doe; and would never allow of all meanes were he never so certaine to get the victory. In his warres against Ariovistus, whilest he was in parly with him, some tumult or insurrection happened between the two armies, which beganne by the fault or negligence of some of Ariovistus horsmen.  In which hurlie-burlie Caesar found himselfe to have a great advantage over his enemies, which notwithstanding he would not embrace, for feare he might be taxed or suspected to have proceeded falsly or consented to any trechery.  At what time soever hee went to fight, he was accustomed to weare a very rich garment, and of a sheene and garish colour, that so he might the better be marked.  When his souldiers were neerest unto their enemies he restrained and kept them very short.  When the ancient Graecians would accuse or taxe any 

man of extreme insufficiencies they used this common proverbe, that he could neither reade nor swimme: and himselfe was of this opinion, that the arte of swimming was most necessary and beneficiarie in war: and a souldier might reape diverse commodities by it, if he were in haste, and to make speed, he would ordinarily swimme over al the rivers he met withal; and loved greatly to travell on foote, as Alexander the great was wont. In Egypt, being on a time forced (to save himselfe) to leap into a little wherry or bote, and so many of his people following him that he was in danger to sink, he rather chose to fling himself into the sea, which he did; and swimming came into his fleete, that was more than two hundred paces from him, holding his writing tables in his left hand out of the water, and with his teeth drawing his coate of armes after him, that his enemies might not enjoy it: and this did he being well stricken in yeares. No generall of warre had ever so much credit with his souldiers.  In the beginning of his civill warres, his centeniers offered him every one at their owne charges to pay and find him a man at armes, and his footemen to serve him for nothing, and those that were best able, to defray the poore and needy.      Our late admirall of France, Lord Chastillon, in our late civill warres shewed such an example: for the Frenchmen of his army, at their proper cost and charges, helped to pay such strangers as followed him.  Few examples of so loving and earnest affection may bee found amongst those that follow the old manner of warre, and strictly hold themselves under the ancient pollicie of their lawes. Passion hath more sway over us then reason: yet hath it chanced in the war against Hannibal, that, imitating the example of the Romane peoples liberalitie in the citie, the souldiers and captaines refused their pay, and in Marcellus his campe, those were called mercenary that tooke any pay.  Having had some defeate neere unto Dyrrachium, his souldiers came voluntarily before him, and offered themselves to be punished; so that he was more 

troubled to comfort then to chide them.  One onely of his cohortes (whereof ten went to a legion) held fight above foure howres with foure of Pompeys whole legions, until it was well- nigh all defeated with the multitude and force of arrowes: and in his trenches were afterward found one hundred and thirtie thousand shafts.  A souldier of his, named Scaeva, who commanded one of the entrances, did so invincibly defend and keepe himselfe, that he had one of his eyes thrust out, and one shoulder and one thigh thrust through, and his shield flawed and pearced in two hundred and thirtie severall places. {constancie+} It hath befallen to many of his souldiers, being, taken prisoners, to chuse rather to die then promise to follow any other faction, or receive any other entertainment.  Granius Petronius, taken by Scipio in Affrike, after Scipio had caused all his fellowes to bee put to death, sent him word that gave him his life, forsomuch as he was a man of ranke and a questor:  Petronius answered that Caesars souldiers were wont to give life to others, and not accept it themselves; and therewithall with his owne hands killed himselfe.  Infinite examples there are of theirfidelitie+. That part which they, acted who were besieged in Salona, a citie which tooke part with Caesar against Pompey, must not be forgotten, by reason of a rare accident that there hapned.  Marcus Octavius, having long time beleagred the town, they within were reduced to such extreamitie and pinching necessitie of all things, that to supply the great want they had of men, most of them being alreadie or hurt or dead; they had set all their slaves at libertie, and for the beboofe of their engines were compelled to cut off all their womens haires, to make ropes with them; besides a wonderfull lacke of victualls, resolving notwithstanding never to yeeld themselves: after they had a long time lingered the siege, and that Octavius was thereby become more carelesse, and lesse heeding or attentive to his enterprise, they one day about high noone (having first ranged their wives and children upon the walles, to set the better face upon the matter) rushed

out in such a furie upon the besiegers, that having put to rout and defeated the first, the second, and third corps de garde, then the fourth and the rest, and having forced them to quit their trenches, chased them even to their shippes: and Octavius with much adoe saved himselfe in Dyrrachium, where Pompey was.  I remember not at this time to have read of any other example where the beleagred doe in grosse beate the beleagrers, and get the maistry and possession of the field nor that a sallie hath drawne a meere and absolute victory of a battell into consequence. 

THEY are not to be had by dozens, as each one knowes, namely, in rights and duties of mariage; for it is a bargaine full of so many thornie circumstances, that it is hard the will of a woman should long keepe her selfe whole and perfect therein.  And although men have somewhat a better condition in the same, yet have they much to doe.  The touchstone and perfect triall of a goode marriage respects the time that the societie continueth; whether it have constantly beene milde, loyall and commodious.  In our age they more commonly reserve to enstall their good offices, and set forth the vehemence of their affections toward their lost husbands: and then seeke they at least to yeeld some testimonie of their good wil.  O late testimonie and out of season, whereby they rather shew they never love them but when they are dead!  Our life is full of combustion and scolding, but our disease is full of love and of curtesie.  As fathers conceale affection toward their children, so they, to maintaine an honest respect, cloake tbeir love toward their husbands.  This mystery answereth not my taste.  They may long enough scratch and dishevel themselves; let me enquire of a chamber- maide or of a secretarie how they were, how they did, and how they have lived together. I can never forget this good saying:  Iactantius maerent, quae minus dolent: 'They keepe a howling with most ostentation who are less sorrowfull at heart.  Their lowring and puling is hatefull to the living and vaine to the dead.  Wee shall easily dispence with them to laugh at us when we are dead, upon condition they smile
<Mont2-548> 

upon us while wee live.  Is not this the way to revive a man with spite; that he who hath spitten in my face when I was living shall come and claw my feet when I am dead?  If there be any honour for a woman to weepe for hir husband, it belongs to hir that hath smiled upon him when she had him. Such as have wept when they lived, let them laugh when they are dead, as well outwardly as inwardly.  Moreover, regard not those blubbred eyes, nor that pitty moving voice, but view that demeanour, that colour and cheerefull good plight of those cheekes under their great vailes; thence it is she speaks plaine_French+. There are few whose health doth not daily grow better and better; a qualitie that cannot lie.  This ceremonious countenance looketh not so much backward as forward: it is rather a purchase than a payment. In mine infancie an honest and most faire ladie (who yet liveth) the widdowe of a prince, had somewhat more of I wot not what in her attires then the lawes of widdowhood would well permit.  To such as blamed her for it, it is (said shee) I intend no more new acquaintances, and have no mind at all to marry againe.  Because I will not altogether dissent from our custome, I have heere made choice of three women who have also employed the, utost endeavor of their goodnes and affection about their husbands deaths.  Yet are they examples somewhat different and so urging that they hardly draw life into consequence.  Plinie the yonger had dwelling neere to a house of his in Italie a neighbour wonderfully tormented with certaine ulcers which much troubled him in his secret parts.  His wife perceiving him to droope and languish away, entreated im she might leasurely search, and neerely view the quality of his disease, and she would more freely then any other tell him what he was to hope for: which having obtained and curiously considered the same, she found it impossible ever to be cured, and all he might expect was but to lead a long, dolorous, and languishing life: and therefore, for his more safetie and soveraigne remedie, perswaded him to kill himselfe. 

And finding him somewhat nice and backeward to effect so rude an enterprise: 'Thinke not my deare friend (quoth shee) but that the sorrowes and griefe I see thee feel, touch me as neere and more, if more may be, as thy selfe, and that to be rid of them I will applie the same remedie to my selfe which I prescribe to thee.  I will accompany thee in thy cure as I have done in thy sickness: remoove all feare, and assure thy selfe we shall have pleasure in this passage, which shall deliver us from all torments, for we will happily goe together.  That said, and having cheared up hir husbands courage, she determined they should both headlong throw themselves into the sea from out a window of their house that overlooked the same: and to maintaine this loyall, vehement and never to be severed affection to the end, wherewith shee had during his life embraced him, she would also have him die in hir armes: and fearing they might faile her, and through the fall or feare or apprehension her bold-fast might be loosed, shee caused herselfe to be fast bound unto him by the middle: and thus for the ease of her husbands life she was contented to foregoe her owne.  She was but of meane place and low fortune, and amidde such condition of people it is not so strange to see some parts of rare vertue and exemplar goodnesse.

     ----- extrema per illos
Iustitia excedens terris vestigia fecit./1

Justice departing from the earth did take
Of them her leave, through them last passage make.

taking Prisoner by the souldiers of Claudius the Emperour, after the overthrow of Scribonianus, whose faction he had followed, entreated those who led him prisoner to Rome to take her into their ship where for the service of her husband she should be of lesse charge and incommoditie to them then a number of other persons which they must necessarily have, and that she alone might supply and stead him in his chamber, in his kitchen and all other offices; which they utterly refused, and so hoisted sailes, but she leaping into a fishers boate that she immediately hired, followed him aloofe from the further shore of Sclavonia.  Being come to Rome one day in the Emperours presence, Iunia, the widdow of Scribonianus, by reason of the neerenesse and societie of their fortunes, familiarly accosted her, but she rudely, with these words, thrust her away.  What (quoth she) shall I speake to thee, or shall I listen what thou sayest? 'Thou, in whose lappe Scribonianus thy husband was slaine' and thou yet livest? and thou breathest? These words with divers other signes made her kinsfolkes and friends perceive that she purposed to make herselfe away, as impatient to abide ber husbands fortune.  And Thrasea her son in law, taking hold of her speeches, beseeching her that she would not so unheedily spoile her selfe, he thus bespake her: 'What, if I were in Cecinnaes fortune or the like, would you have my wife your daughter to do so? 'What else?  Make' you a question of it? answered she. 'Yes, marry would I had she lived so long and in so good-agreeing sort with thee as I have done with my husband.  These and such like answers encreased the care they had of her and made them more heedful to watch and neerely to look unto her.  One day after she had uttered these words to her keepers, 'You may looke long enough to me, well may you make me die worse, but you shall never be able to keep me from dying:' and therewith furiously flinging her self out of a chaire (wherein she sate) with all the strength she had, she fiercely ranne her head against the next wall; with which 

blow having sore hurt her selfe, and falling into a dead swowne, after they had with much adoe brought her to her selfe againe: 'Did I not tell you (quoth she) that if you kept me from an easie death I would choose another how hard and difficult soever?  The end of so admirable a vertue was this.  Her husband Paetus wanting the courage to doe himselfe to death, unto which the Emperors cruelty reserved him, one day, having first employed discourses and exhortations befitting the counsell she gave him to make himselfe away, shee tooke a dagger that her husband wore, and holding it right out in her hand for the period of her exhortation:  Doe thus, Paetus (said she) and at that instant stabbing her selfe mortally to the heart, and presently pulling the dagger out againe, she reached the same unto her husband and so yeelded up the ghost, uttering this noble, generous, and immortal speech, Paete non dolet, she had not the leasure to pronounce other than these three wordes, in substance materiall and worthy herselfe, 'Holde Paetus it hath done me no hurt.

Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto,
Ouem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis;
Si qua fides, vulnus quod feci, non dolet, inquit.
Sed quod tu facies, id mihi Paete dolet./1

Chast Arria, when she gave her Paetus that sharpe sword,
Which from her bowells she had drawne forth bleeding new,
The wound I gave and have, if you will trust my word
Grieves not, said she, but that which shall be made by you.

himself with the same dagger, ashamed, as I suppose, to have had need of so deare an instruction and precious a teaching.  Pompea Paulina, an high and noble borne yong Romane ladie, had wedded Seneca, being very aged. Nero, his faire disciple, having sent his satellites or officers toward him to denounce the decree of his death to him, which in those dayes was done after this manner: when the Roman Emperors had condemned any man of quality to death, they were wont to send their officers unto him to chuse what death he pleased, and to take it within such and such a time, which, according to the temper of their choler, they prescribed unto him sometimes shorter and sometimes longer, giving him that time to dispose of his affaires, which also by reason of some short warning they divers times tooke from him: and if the condemned partie seemed in any sort to strive against their will, they would often send men of purpose to execute him, either cutting the veins of his armes and legs, or compelling him to take and swallow poison.  But men of Honour stayed not that enforcement, but to that effect used their own Phisitians or Surgeons, Seneca, with a reposed and undanted countenance, listned attentively to their charge, and presently demaunded for paper and inke to make his last wil and testament, which the captaine refusing him, he turned towards his friends and thus bespoke them: 'Sith, my loving friends, I cannot bequeath you any other thing in remembrance or acknowledgement of what I owe you, I leave you at least the richest and best portion I have, that is, the image of my maners and my life, which I beseech you to keepe in memory; which doing you may acquire the glory and purchase the name of truly sincere and absolutely true friends.  And therewithall, sometimes appeasing the sharpenes of the sorow he saw them endure for his sake, with mild and gentle speeches, sometimes raising his voice to chide them. 'Where are,' said he 'those memorable precepts of Philosophy?  What is become of those provisions which for so many yeares together we have laid up against the brunts and 

accidents of Fortune?  Was Neroes innated cruelty unknowne unto us?  What might we expect or hope for at his hands, who had murdred his mother and massacred his brother, but that he would also do his tutor and governor that hath fostred and brought him up?  Having uttered these words to all the bystanders, he turned him to his wife, as she was ready to sink down, and with the burthen of her grief to faint in heart and strength; he called and embraced her about the necke, and heartily entreated her, for the love of him, somewhat more patiently to beare this accident; and that his houre was come, wherein be must shew no longer by discourse and disputation, but in earnest effect, declare the fruit he had reaped by his studie; and that undoubtedly he embraced deathe, not only without griefe but with exceeding joy.  Wherefore; my deere deere heart, do not dishonour it by thy teares, lest thou seeme to love thyselfe more than my reputation.  Asswage thy sorrowes and comfort thy self, in the knowledge thou hast had of me and of my actions, leading the rest of thy life by the honest occupations to which thou art addicted.  To whom Paulina, having somewhat rouzed hir drooping spirits, and by a thrice noble affection awakened the magnanimitie of her high-setled courage, answered thus : 'No, Seneca, thinke not that in this necessitie I will leave you without my company.  I would not have you imagine that the vertuous examples of your life have not also taught me to die; and when shall I be able to do it or better, or more honestly, or more to mine own liking then with your selfe?  And be resolved I wil go with you and be partaker of your fortune.  Seneca taking so generous a resolve and glorious a determination of his wife in good part, and to free himselfe from the feare he had to leave her after his death to his enemies mercie and cruelty: 'Oh my deare Paulina, I had,' quoth be, 'perswaded thee what I thought was convenient, to leade thy life more happily, and doest thou then rather choose the honour of a glorious death?  Assuredly I will not envy thee. 

Be the constancie and resolution answerable to our common end, but be the beautie and glory greater on thy side.  That said, the veines of both their armes were cut, to the end they might bleede to death; but because Senecaes were somewhat shrunken up through age and abstinence, and his bloud could have no speedy course, he commannded the veines of his thighes to be launced; and fearing lest the torments he felt might in some sort entender his wifes heart, as also to deliver himselfe from the affliction which greatly yearned him to see her in so pittious plight, after he had most lovingly taken leave of her, he besought her to be pleased she might be carried into the next chamber, which was accordingly performed.  But all those incisions being unable to make him die, he wille Statius Anneus his phisitian to give him some poysoned potion which wrought but small effect in him for through the weaknesse and coldenesse of his members, it could not come unto his heart.  And therefore they caused a warme hath to be prepared, wherein they layd him, then perceiving his end to approach, so long as he had breath he continued his excellent discourses concerning the subject of the estate wherein he found himself, which his secretaries, so long as they could heare his voice, collected very diligently, whose last words continued long time after in high esteem and honor amongst the better sort of men, as oracles; but they were afterward lost, and great pittie it is they never came unto our handes.  But when he once beganne to feele the last pangs of death, taking some of the water wherein he lay bathing, all bloody, he therewith washed his head, saying, 'I vow this water unto Jupiter the Deliverer.  Nero being advertised of all this, fearing lest Paulinaes death (who was one of the best alied ladies in Rome, and to whom he bare no particular grudge) might cause him some reproach, sent in all poste baste to have her incisions closed up againe, and if possible it could be, to save her life, which hir servants by unwrithing her, performed, she being more than halfe dead and voyd of any sense.  And that

afterward, contrary to her intent, she lived, it was very honourable and as befitted her vertue, shewing by the pale hew and wanne colour of her face how much of her life she had wasted by her incisions.  Loe heere three true stories, which in my conceit are as pleasant and as tragicall as any we devise at our pleasures to please the vulgar sort withall; and I wonder that those who invent so many fabulous tales do not rather make choise of infinite, excellent and quaint stories that are found in bookes, wherein they should have lesse trouble to write them, and might doubtlesse proove more pleasing to the hearer and profitable to the reader.  And whosoever would undertake to frame a compleate and well-joynted, bodie of them neede neither employe nor adde any thing of his owne unto it except the ligaments, as the soldring of another mettall, and by this meanes might compact sundry events of all kindes, disposing and diversifying them according as the beauty and lustre of the worke should require; and very neere, as Ovid hath showen and contrived his Metamorphosis, with that strange number of diverse fables.  In the last couple this is also worthy consideration, that Paulina offreth willingly to leave her life for her husband's sake, and that her husband had also other times quit death for the love of her.  There is no great counterpoyze in this exchange for us, but according to his Stoike humour I suppose he perswaded himselfe to have done as much for hir, prolonging his life for her availe as if he had died for hir.  In one of his letters he writeth to Lucilius, after he had given him to understand how an ague having surprised him in Rome, contrary to his wives opinion who would needs have stayed him, he sodainly tooke his coach to goe unto a house of his into the country; and how he told her that the ague he had was no bodily fever, but of the place; and followeth thus: 'At last she let me goe, earnestly recommending my health unto me.  Now I who know how her life lodgeth in mine, begin to provide for myself, that consequently I may provide for her the priviledge my age hath 

bestowed on me making me more constant and more resolute in many things, I lose it whenever I call to minde that in this aged corps there harboureth a young woman to whom I bring some profit.  Since I cannot induce her to love me more courageously, shee induceth me to love my selfe more carefully; for something must be lent to honest affections, and sometimes, although occasions urge us to the contrary, life must be revoked againe, yea with torment.  The soule must be held fast with ones teeth, since the lawe to live an honest man is not to live as long as they please, but so long as they ought.  He who esteemeth not his wife or a friend so much as that he will not lengthen his life for them, and wil obstinately die, that man is over-nice and too effeminate:  The soule must commaund that unto her selfe, when the utilitie of our friends requireth it we must sometimes lend our selves unto our friend, and when we would die for us we ought for their sakes to interrupt our deseigne.  It is a testimony of high courage to returne to life for the respect of others, as divers notable men have done; and to preserve age is a part of singular integritie (the cheifest commoditie whereof is the carelesnesse of her continuance, and a more courageous and disdainefull use of life) if a man perceive such an office to be pleasing, acceptable and profitable to any well-affected friend.  And who doeth it receiveth thereby a grateful meede and pleasing recompence; for what can be sweeter than to be so deare unto his wife, that in respect of her a man become more deare unto himselfe.  So my Paulina hath not onely charged me with her feare, but also with mine.  It hath not beene sufficient for me to consider how resolutely I might die, but I have also considered how irresolutely she might endure it, I have enforced my selfe to live.  And to live is sometime magnanimitie.  Reade heere his owne wordes, as excellent as is his use. 

IF a man should demaund of mee, which of all men that ever came to my knowledge I would make choice of, me seemeth I finde three who have beene excellent above all others.  The one is Homer: not that Aristotle+ or Varro+ (for example sake) were not peradventure as wise and as sufficient as he: nor that Virgil (and possibly in his owne arte) be not comparable unto him.  I leave that to their judgements that know them both.  I who know but one of then, according to my skill may onely say this, that I cannot be persuaded the Muses themselves did ever go beyond the Roman.

Tale facit carmen docta testudine, quale
Cynthius impositis temperat articulis,/1

He on his learned lute such verse doth play
As Phoebus should thereto his fingers lay.

sciences were redacted into strict rules and certaine observations, he had so perfect knowledge of them, that all those which since his time have labored to establish pollicies or commonwealths, to manage warres, and to write either of religion or philosophy, in which sect soever or of all artes, have made use of him as of an absolutely perfect master in the knowledge of all things; and of his books, as of a seminary, a spring-garden or store-house of all kinds of sufficiency and learning.

Qui quid sit pulchchrum, quid turpe, quid utile, quid non, Plenius ac melius, Chrysippo, ac Crantore dicit./1

What is faire, what is foule, what profit may, what not, Better than Crantor or Chrysippus, Homer wrot.

      ------a quo ceu fonte perrenni
Vatum Pieriis labra rigantur aquis./2

By whom, as by an ever-flowing-filling spring,
With Muses liquor poets lippes are bath'de to sing.

Adde Heliconiadum comites, quoram unus Homerus,
Astra potitus/3

Muses companions adde to these, of all
One onely Homer hath in heav'n his stall.

     ----- cujusque ex ore profuso
Omnis posteritas latices in carmina duxit,
Amnemque in tenues, ausa est deducere rivos:
Unius faacunda bonis./4

From whose large mouth for verse all that since live
Drew water, and grew bolder to derive
Into thinne shallow rivers his deepe flood
Richly luxuriant in one man's good.

It is against nature's course that he bath made the most excelent production that may be: for the ordinary birth of things is imperfect: they are augmented by encrease and corroborated by growth.  He hath reduced the infancy of poesie and divers other sciences to be ripe, perfect, and compleate.  By which reason he may be termed the first and last of poets, following the noble testimony antiquity hath left us of him, that having had no man before him whom he might imitate, so bath hee had none after him could imitate him.  His wordes (according to Aristotle) are the onely words that have motion and action: they are the onely substantiall wordes.  Alexander the Great, having lighted upon a rich casket amongst Darius his spoils, appoynted the same to be safely kept for himselfe to keepe his Homer in, saying he was the best adviser and faithfullest counselor he had in his military affaires.  By the same reason said Cliomenes, sonne to Anaxandridas, that hee was the Lacedemonians poet, for he was an excellent good teacher or master of warrelike discipline.  This singular praise and particular commendation hath also been given him by Plutarke, where he saith that he is the only author in the world who yet never distasted reader, or glutted man, ever showing himself other and different to the readers, and ever flourishing with a new grace.  That wagge Alcibiades, demanding one of Homers bookes of one who professed letters, because he had it not, gave him a whirrit on the eare, as if a man should finde one of our Priests without a breviarie. Xenophanes one day made his moane to Hieron, the tyrant of Siracusa, that he was so poore as he had not wherewithall to finde two servants.  How commeth that to passe? (answered Hieron).  Homer, who was much poorer than thou art, dead as he is, findeth more than tenne thousand.  What left Panaetius unsaide when he named Plato the Homer of Philosophers?  Besides, what glory may be compared to his?  There is nothing liveth so in mens mouthes as his name and his workes; nothing so knowne and received as Troy, as Helen and her warres, 

which peradventure never were.  Our children are yet called by the names he invented three thousand years since and more.  Who knoweth not Hector? Who hath not heard of Achilles?  Not onely some particular races, but most nations, seeke to derive themselves from his inventions.  Machomet, the second of that name, Emperour of Turkes, writing to Pope Pius the second: I wonder (saith he) how the Italians will bandie against me, seeing we have our common offspring, from the Troians; and I as well as they have an interest to re venge the blood of Hector upon the Graecians whom they favour against me.  Is it not a worthy comedie, whereof kings, commonwealths, principalities, and emperours have for many ages together played their parts, and to which this great universe serveth as a theatre?  Seven cities of Greece strived amongst themselves about the places of his birth, so much honour his very obscuritie procured him.

Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenae./1

Rhodes, Salamis, Colophon, Chios, Argos, Smyrna, with Athens.

Impellens quicquid sibi summa petenti
Obstaret, gaudensque viam fecisse ruinae./2

While he shot at the high'st, all that
He for'st and joyde with ruine to make way.

thirtie yeares, passed victoriously through all the habitable earth and but with half the life of a man to {usthem+} have attained the utmost endeavour of human nature so that you cannot imagine his continuance lawfull, and the lasting of his increase in fortune, and progres in vertue even unto a just terme of age, but you must suppose something above man to have caused so many royal branches to issue from out the loines of his souldiers, leaving the world after his death to be shared between foure successors, onely captaines of his armie, whose successors have so long time since continued, and descendants maintained that large possession.  So infinite, rare, and excellent vertues that were in him, as justice, temperance, liberalitie, integritie in words, love toward his, and humanitie toward the conquered.{Alexander+} For in truth his maners seeme to admit he no just cause of reproach: indeed some of his particular, rare, and extraordinary actions may in some sort be taxed.  For it is impossible to conduct so great and direct so violent motion with the strict rules of justice.  Such men ought to be judged in gross by the mistris end of their actions.  The ruine of Thebes; the murder of Menander, and of Ephestions Physitian; the massacre of so many Persian prisoners at once; of a troupe of Indian souldiers, not without some prejudice unto his word and promise; and of the Cosaeians and their little children, are escapes somewhat hard to be excused.  For concerning Clitus+, the fault was expiated beyond its merit; and that action, as much as any other, witnesseth the integritie and cheerfulness of his complexion, and that it was a complexion in it selfe exceedingly formed to goodnesse.  And it was wittily said of one that he had vertues by nature and vices by accident.  Concerning the point that he was somewhat too lavish a boaster+, and over- impatient to heare himselfe ill spoken of; and touching those mangers, armes and bits, which he caused to be scattered in India, respecting his age and the prosperitie of his fortune, they are in my conceit pardonable in him.  He that shall also consider his many 

vertues, as diligence, foresight, patience, discipline, policie, magnanimitie, resolution and good fortune, {list_of_virtues+} wherein though Haniballs authority had not taught it us, he hath beene the first and chiefe of men: the rare beauties, matchlesse features, and incomparable conditions of his person, beyond all comparison and wonder breeding; his carriage, demeanor, and venerable behaviour, in a face so young, so vermeill, and heart enflaming:

Oualis ubi Occam perfusus Lucifer unda,
Quem Venus ante alios astrorum diligit ignes,
Extulit os sacrum caelo, tenebrasque resolvit./1

As when the day-starre washt in ocean streames,
Which Venus most of all the starres esteemes,
Showes sacred light, shakes darkenesse off with beames.

Et velut immissi diversis partibus ignes
Arentem in silvam, et virgulta sonantia lauro:
Aut ubi decursu rapido de montibus altis
Dant sonitum spumosi amnes, et in aequora currunt,
Quisque suum populatus iter./1

As when on divers sides fire is applied
To cracking bay-shrubs, or to woods sunne dried
Or as when flaming streames from mountaines hie,
With downe-fall swift resound, and to sea flie
Each one doth havocke-out his way thereby.

concerning his maners and conscience therein be farre ontwent all that ever medled with managing affaires: for in this one part, which ought especially to be noted, and which alone declareth that we are, and which only I counterpoise to al others together, he giveth place to no philosopher; no not to Socrates himselfe.  In him innocencie+ is a qualities proper, chiefe, constant, uniforme, and incorruptible; in comparison of which, it seemeth in Alexander subalternall, uncertaine, variable, effeminate and accidentall.  Antiquitie judged that precisely to sift out, and curiously to prie into all other famous captaines, there is in every one severally some speciall quality which makes him renowned and famous.  In this man alone it is a vertue and sufficiencie, every where compleate and alike, which in all offices of humane life leaveth nothing more to be wished for.  Be it in publike or private, in peaceable negociations or warlike occupations, be it to live or die, greatly or gloriously, I know no forme or fortune of man that I admire or regard with so much honour, with so much love.  True it is, I finde this obstinacie in povertie somewhat scrupulous, and so have his best friends pourtrayed it.  And this onely action (high notwithstanding and very worthy admiration) I finde or deeme somewhat sharpen so as I would not wish nor desire the imitation thereof in me, according to the forme it was in him.  Scipio AEmilianus alone (wold any charge him with as fierie and nobly-minded an end, and with as deepe and universall knowledge of sciences) might be placed in the other scale of the ballance against him.  Oh what a displeasure hath swift-gliding Time done me, even in the nick, to deprive our eyes of the chiefest paire of lives, directly the noblest that ever were in Plutarke, of these two truly worthy personages: by the universall consent of the world, the one chiefe of Graecians, the other principall of Romanes.  What a matter, what a workeman!  For a man that was no saint, but as we say a gallant-honest man, of civil maners and common customes, of a temperate haughtinesse, the richest life I know (as the vulgar saying is) 

to have lived amongst the living, and fraughted with the richest qualities and most to be desired parts (all things impartially considered) in my humour, is that of Alcibiades+. But touching Epaminondas, for a patterne of excessive goodness I will here insert certaine of his opinions.  The sweetest contentment he had in all his life he witnesseth to have beene the pleasure he gave his father and mother of his victory upon Leuctra: he staketh much in preferring their pleasure before his content, so just and full of so glorious an action.  Hee thought it unlawfull, yea were it to recover the libertie of his countrey, for any one to kill a man except he knew a just cause.  And therefore was he so backeward in the enterprise of Pelopidas his companion, for the deliverance of Thebes.  He was also of opinion that in a battell a man should avoid to encounter his friend, being on the contrary part, and if he met him to spare him.  And his humanitie or gentleness even towards his very enemies, having made him to be suspected of the Boeotians, forsomuch as after he had miraculously forced the Lacedemonians to open him a passage, which at the entrance of Morea, neere Corinth, they had undertaken to make good, he was contented, without further pursuing them in furie, to have marched over their bellies, was the cause he was deposed of his office of Captaine Generall.  Most honourable for such a cause, and for the shame it was to them, soone after to be forced by necessitie to advance him to his first place, and to acknowledge how their glorie, and confesse that their safetie, did onely depend on him: victory following him as his shadow whither soever he went, and as the prosperitie of his countrie was borne by and with him, so it died with and by him. 

THIS hudling up of so much trash, or packing of so many severall pieces, is done so strangely, as I never lay hands on it but when an over lazie idlenesse urgeth me, and nowhere but in mine owne house.  So has it beene compact at sundry pauses, and contrived at severall intervalls, as occasions have sometime for many months together, here and there in other places detained me.  Besides, I never correct my first imaginations by the second, it may happen I now and then alter some word rather to diversifie then take any thing away.  My purpose is to represent the progress of my humours, that every part be seen or member distinguished as it was produced.  I would to God I had begunne sooner, and knew the tracks of my changes and course of my variations.  A boy whom I employed to write for me supposed he had gotten a rich bootie when he stole some parts which he best liked; but one thing comforts me, that he shall gaine no more than I lost by them. I am growne elder by seven or eight yeares since I beganne them; nor hath it beene with-out some new purchase.  I have by the liberality of years acquainted my selfe with the stone-chollike.  Their commerce and long conversation is not easily past over without some such-like fruite.  I would be glad that of many other presents they have ever in store, to bestow upon such as waite upon them long, they had made choice of some one that had beene more acceptable unto me: for they could never possess me with any that, even from my infancy, I hated more.
<Mont2-567> 

Of all accidents incident to age it was that I feared most.  My selfe have many times thought I went on too farre, and that to hold out so long a journey, I must of necessitie in the end stumble upon some such unpleasing chance.  I perceived plainly and protested sufficiently it was high time to depart, and that according to the rule of skilfull chirurgions, who when they must cut off some members life must be seared to the quicke and cut to the sound flesh.  That nature is wont to make him pay untolerable usurie who doth not yeeld or pay the same in due time.  I was so farre from being readie to make lawfull tender of it, that in eighteene months, or thereabouts, I have continued in so yrkesome and unpleasing plight, I have already learn'd to apply my selfe unto it; and am now entring into covenant with this chollicall kinde of life; for therein I finde matter wherewith to comfort me, and to hope better.  So much are men enured in their miserable estate, that no condition is so poore but they will accept: so they may continue in the same.  Heare Maecenas -

Debilem facito manu,
Debilem pede, coxa.
Lubricos quate dentes,
Vita dum superego, bene est./1

Make me be weake of hand,
Scarce on my legges to stand,
Shake my loose teeth with paine,
'Tis well so life remaine.

Diogenes, who was come to visite him, foorthwith presenting him a knife: 'Mary, this,' said he, 'and that very speedily, if thou please': 'I mean not of my life,' replied be, 'but of my sickness.  The sufferances which simply touch us in minde doe much lesse afflict me then most men: partly by judgement; for the world deemeth diverse things horible, or avoydable with the losse of life, to me are in a manner indifferent: partly by a stupid and insensible complexion, I have in accidents that hit me not point-blancke: which complexion I esteeme one of the better partes of my naturall condition. But the truely- essentiall and corporall sufferances, those I taste very sensibly: yet is it, having other times fore-apprehended them with a delicate and weake sight, and by the enjoying of this long health and happy rest, which God hath lent me the better part of my age, somewhat impaired; I had by imagination conceived them so intolerable that, in good truth, I was more afraide than since I have found hurt in them: whereupon I dayly augment this opinion: that most of our soules faculties (as we employ them) doe more trouble than stead the quiet repose of life.  I am continually grapling with the worst of all diseases, the most grievous, the most mortall, the most remedilesse and the most violent.  I have alreadie had triall of five or six long and painefull fittes of it.  Neverthelesse, eyther I flatter-my selfe, or in this plight there is yet something that would faine keep life and soule together, namely, in him whose minde is free from feare of death, and from the threats, conclusions and consequences which physicke is ever buzzing into our heads.  But the effect of paine it selfe hath not so sharpe a smarting, or so pricking a sharpenesse, that a setled man should enter into rage or fall into despaire.  This commoditie at least I have by the chollicke, that what I could never bring to passe in my selfe, which was altogether to reconcile and thoroughly to acquaint my selfe with death+, shee shall atchieve, she shall accomplish, for by how much more shee shall importune and urge me, by so much lesse 

shall death bee fearefull unto mee.  I had already gotten, not to be beholding to life, but onely in regard of life, and for lives sake: she shall also untie this intelligence and loose this combination.  And God graunt, if in the end her sharpenesse shall happen to surmount my strength, shee cast me not into other extremities no lesse vicious, no lesse bad, that is, to love and desire to die.

Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes./1

Nor feare thy latest doome,
Nor wish it ere it come.

entertainement and other occupations unto a certaine limit.  In so extreme accidents it is cruelty to require so composed a warde at our hands.  If we have a good game it skills not, though we have an ill countenance.  If the body be any whit eased by complaining, let him doe it: if stirring or agitation please him, let him turne, rowle, and tosse himselfe as long as he list: if with raising his voyce, or sending it forth with more violence, he think his griefe any thing alayed or vented (as some physitians affirme it somewhat easeth women great with childe, and is a meane of easie or speedy delivery) feare he not to do it; or if he may but entertaine his torment, let him mainly cry out.  Let us not commaund our voyce to depart; but if she will, let us not hinder it, Epicurus doth not only pardon his wise-man to crie out, when he is grieved or vexed, but perswadeth him to it.  Pugiles etiam quum feriunt, in jactandis caestibus ingemiscunt, quia profundenda voce omne corpus intenditur venitque plaga vehementior:/1 'Men when they fight with sand-bags, or such heavy weapons, in fetching their blow and driving it, will give a groane withall because by stretching their voyce all their body is also strayned, and the stroke cometh with more vehemence.' We are vexed and troubled enough with the evill, without troubling and vexing our selves with these superfluous rules.  This I say to excuse those which are ordinarily seene to rage in the fits, and storme in the assaults of this sicknesse, for, as for me, I have hitherto past it over with somewhat a better countenance, and am content to groane without braying and exclaiming.  And yet I trouble not myselfe to maintaine this exterior decencie; for I make small reckoning of such an advantage, in that I lend my sicknesse what it requireth: but either my paine is not so excessive, or I beare it with more constancy than the vulgar sorte.  Indeede I must confesse, when the sharpe fits or throwes assaile me, I complaine and vexe my selfe, but yet I never fall into despaire, as that fellow:
-----
1 CIC.  Tusc.  Qu. 1. ii. 

Eiulatu, questu, gemitu, fremitibus
Resonando multum flebiles voces refert./1

With howling, growning and complaint of fates,
Most lamentable cries he imitates.

     ----- laborum
Nulla mihi nova nunc facies inopinaque surgit,
Omnia praecepi, atque animo mecum ante peregi./2

No new or unexpected forme is cast,
Of tratvels in my breast: all I forecast,
In my minde with my selfe I all forepast.

that in it selfe it is a disease greatly to be feared, its beginnings or approaches are in mee sharper or more difficult than it is wont to trouble others withall.  The pangs and fittes thereof doe so often assaile mee, that in a manner I have no more feeling of perfect health.  Notwithstanding I hitherto keepe my spirit so seated as, if I can but joyne constancy unto it, I finde my selfe to be in a much better state of life than a thousand others, who have neither ague nor other infirmitie but such as for want of discourse they give themselves.  There is a certaine fashion of subtile humilitie which procedeth of presumption: as this, that in many things we acknowledge our ignorance, and are so curteous to avowe that in Natures workes there are some qualities and conditions which to us are imperceptible, and whereof our sufficiencie cannot discover the meanes nor finde out the causes.  By this honest and conscientious declaration, we hope to gaine that we shall also be beleeved in those we shall say to understand.  Wee neede not goe to cull out miracles, and chuse strange difficulties: mee seemeth, that amongst those things we ordinarily see there are such incomprehensible rarities as they exceed all difficulty of miracles.  What monster is it that this teare or drop of seed whereof we are ingendred brings with it, and in it the impressions, not only of the corporall forme, but even of the very thoughts and inclinations of our fathers?  Where doth this droppe of water contains or lodge this infinite number of formes?  And how bear they these resemblances of so rash and unruly a progresse, that the childes childe shall be answerable to his grandfather, and the nephew to his uncle? In the family of the Lepidus the Roman, there have beene three, not successively, but some between, that were borne with one same eye covered with a cartilage or gristle.  There was a race in Thebes which from their mothers wombe bare the forme of a burre, or yron of a launce; and such as had it not were judged as misbegotten and deemed unlawful].  Aristotle reporteth of a certaine nation, with whom all women were 

common, where children were allotted their fathers only by their resemblances. It may be supposed that I am indebted to my father for this stonie-quality, for he died exceedingly tormented with a great stone in his bladder.  He never felt himself troubled with the disease but at the age of sixtie- seaven yeares, before which time he had never felt any likelihood or motion of it, nor in his reines, nor in his sides, nor elsewhere: and untill then had lived in very prosperous health, and little subject to infirmities, and continued seven yeares and more with that disease training a very dolorous lives-end.  I was borne five and twenty yeares before his sickness and during the course of his healthy state, his third child.  Where was al this while the propension or inclination to this defect hatched?  And when he was so farre from such a disease, that light part of his substance wherewith he composed me, how could it for her part beare so great an impression of it?  And how so closely covered, that fortie-five yeares after, {usthem+} I have begunne to have a feeling of it? and hitherto alone, among so many brethren and sisters, and all of one mother.  He that shal resolve me of this progresse I will believe him as many other miracles as he shall please to tell mee: alwayes provided (as commonly they doe) hee goe not about to pay me with a doctrine much more difficult and fantastical then the thing it selfe (let physitians somewhat excuse my libertie): for by the same infusion and fatall insinuation, I have received the hate and contempt of their doctrine.  The antipathie which is betweene me and their arte is to me hereditarie.  My father lived three score and fourteene yeares; my grandfather three score and nine; my great grandfather very neere fourescore, and never tasted or tooke any kinde of physicke. {usthem+} And whatsoever was not in ordinary use amongst them was deemed a drug.  Physicke is grounded upon experience and examples.  So is mine opinion.  Is not this a manifest kinde of experience, and very advantageous?  I know not whether in all their registers they are able to finde me three more, borne, bred, brought up, and 

deceased, under one roofe, in one same chimnie, that by their owne direction and regiment have lived so long.  Wherein they must needes grant me, that if it be not reason, at least it is fortune that is on my side.  Whereas among physitians fortune is of more consequence then reason.  Low-brought and weake as I am now, let them not take me at an advantage, nor let them not threaten me: for that were insulting arrogance.  And to say truth, I have by my familiar examples gained enough upon them, although they take hold and stay there.  Humane things have not so much constancie: it is now two hundred yeares, wanting but eighteene, that this essay continueth with us: for the first was borne in the yeare of our Lord one thousand foure hundred and two, some reason there is why this experience should now beginne to faile us.  Let them not upbraide me with those infirmities which now have seized upon me: is it not sufficient to have lived seven and fortie yeares in good and perfect health for my part?  Suppose it to be the end of my carriere, yet it is of the longest. {usthem+} Mine ancestors by some secret instinct and naturall inclination have ever loathed al maner of physicke: for the very sight of drugs bred a kinde of horror in my father. The Lord of Gaviac, mine unckle by the fathers side, a man of the church, sickish even from his birth, and who notwithstanding made his weake life to hold untill sixtie seaven yeares, falling once into a dangerous and vehement continuall feaver, it was by the physitians concluded that unlesse he would aide himselfe (for they ofte terme that aide which indeede is impeachment) he was but a dead man.  The good soule, afrighted as he was at that horrible sentence, answred thus, why then I am a dead man: but shortly after God made their prognostications to proove vaine.  The Lord of Bussaguet, last of the brethren (for they were foure), and by much the last, he alone submitted himselfe to that arte, as I imagine by reason of the frequence he had in other sciences; for he was a counsellor in the 

Court of Parliament, which prospered so ill with him that though he were in shew of a very strong complexion, he died long before the others, except one, the Lord of Saint Michael.  It may well be I have received of them that natural dyspathie to physicke.  Yet if there had been no other consideration but this, I would have endevoured to force it.  For all these conditions, which without reason are borne in us, are vicious.  It is a kinde of maladie a man must fight withall.  It may be I had such a propension, but I have settled and strengthened the same by discourses which in me have confirmed the opinion I have of it.  For I have also the consideration to refuse physicke by reason of the sharpnesse of its taste.  It would not easily agree with my humour, who thinke health worthy to be purchased with the price of all cauteries and incisions, how painefull soever.  And following Epicurus, mee seemeth that all maner of voluptuousnesse should be avoided, if greater griefes follow them, and griefes to be sought after, that have greater voluptuousnesse ensuing them.  Health is a very precious jewell, and the onely thing that in pursuite of it deserveth a man should not onely employ time, labour, sweate and goods, but also life to get it; forasmuch as without it life becommeth injurious unto us.  Voluptuousnes, science and vertue, without it, tarnish and vanish away.  And to the most constant and exact discourses that philosophy will imprint in our minds to the contrary, wee neede not oppose any thing against it but the image of Plato, being visited with the falling sickenesse, or an apoplexie; and in this presupposition chalenge him to call the richest faculties of his minde to helpe him.  All meanes that may bring us unto health, cannot be esteemed of men either sharpe or deare.  But I have some other apparances which strangely make me to distrust al his ware.  I doe not say but there may be some art of it: it is certaine that amongst so many of Natures workes there are some things proper for the preservation of our health.  I know there are 

some simples which in operation are moistening and some drying.  My selfe have found, by experience, that radish rootes are windie, and senie-leeves breede loosenes in the belly.  I have the knowledge of divers such experiments, as I know that mutton nourisheth, that wine warmeth me.  And Solon was wont to say that I eating was, as all other drugges are, a medicine against the disease of hunger.  I disallow not the use we draw from the world, nor doubt I of natures power and fruitfulnesse, and other application to our need.  I see that the pickrell-fish and the swallowes live well by her lawes. I greatly distrust the inventions of our wit, of our arte and of our science, in favour of which we have forsaken nature, and abandoned her rules; wherein we can neither observe limitation nor keepe moderation.  As we term justice, the composition of the first lawes that came unto our hands, and their practice and dispensation very often most wicked and inconvenient.  And as those which mocke and condemne it, intend not neverthelesse to wrong this noble virtue; but onely to condemne the abuse and profanation of so sacred a title: so likewise in physicke, I know her glorious name, her proposition, and her promise, so profitable to mankinde: but what it desseigneth amongst us, I neither honour nor respect.  First, experience makes me fear it, for of all I know, I see no kinde of men so seene sicke, nor so late cured, as those who are under the jurisdiction of physicke:  Their very health is distempered and corrupted by the constraint of their prescriptions. Physitians are not contented to have the government over sicknesses, but they make health to be sicke, lest a man should at any time escape their authority.  Of a constant and perfect health, doe they not frame an argument of some future daungerous sickenesse?  I have often beene sicke, and without any their helpe, I have found my sicknesses (though I never medled with the bitterness of their prescriptions) as easie to be tollerated and as short as any mans else, and yet I have felt diverse.  My health is free and sound, without any rules or 

discipline) except of my owne custome and pleasure.  I finde no difference in places, al are alike to me to dwell in: for being sicke, I neede no other commodities then those I must have when I am in health.  I am nothing passionated, though I be without physitian, without apothecary, or without physical helpe; whereat I see some as much troubled in minde as they are with their disease.  What, doth the best physitian of them all make us perceive any happinesse or continuance in his life, as may witnesse some manifest effect of his skill and learning?  There is no nation but hath continued many ages without physicke: yea the first ages, which is as much to say, the best and most happy: and the tenth part of the world hath as yet no use of it.  Infinite nations know it not; where they live both more healthie and much longer than we doe: yea and amongst us the common sort live happily without it.  The Romanes had beene sixe hundred yeares before ever they received it: by meanes of interposition of Cato the censor, they banisht it their citie, who declared how easily man might live without it, having lived himselfe foure score and five yeeres, and his wife untill she was extreamely old, not without physicke, but indeed without any physitian. For whatsoever is by experience found healthy for our body and health may be termed physicke, He entertained (as Plutarke saith) his familie in health by the use (as farre as I remember) of hares milk: as the Arcadians (saith Plinie) cure all maladies with cowes milke.  And the Lybians (saith Herodotus) doe generally enjoy a perfect health by observing this custome, which is, so soone as their children are about foure yeeres old, to cautherize and seare the veines of their head and temples, whereby they cut off the way to all rumes and defluxions.  And the countrie-people where I dwell use nothing against all diseases but some of the strongest wine they can get, with store of saffron and spice in it; and all with one like fortune.  And to say true, of all this diversitie of rules and confusion of prescriptions, what other end or effect workes it but to evacuate the belly? which 

a thousand home-simples will doe as well.  And I know not whether it be as profitable (as they say) and whether our nature require the residents of her excrements, untill a certaine measure, as wine doth his lees for his preservation.  You see often men very healthy, by some strange accidents, to fall into violent vomites and fluxies, and voyd great store of excrements, without any precedent need or succeeding benefite: yea, with some empairing and prejudice.  I learnt of Plato not long since, that of three motions which belong to us, the last and worst is that of purgations, and that no man, except he be a foole, ought to undertake it, unlesse it be in great extremity.  The evill is troubled and stirred up by contrary oppositions. It is the forme of life that gently must diminish, consume and bring it to an end.  Since the violent twinges of the drug and maladie are ever to our losse, since the quarrell is cleared in us, and the drug a trustlesse helpe; by its own nature an enemie to our health, and but by trouble hath no accesse in our state.  Let's give them leave to go on.  That order which provideth for fleas and moles, doth also provide for men, who have the same patience to suffer themselves to be governed that fleas and moles have.  We may fairely cry Bo-bo-boe; it may well make us hoarse, but will nothing advaunce it.  It is a proud and impetuous order.  Our feare and our despaire, in liew of enviting help from it, doth distaste and delay it out of our helpe: it oweth his course to sickness as well as to health. To suffer itselfe to be corrupted in favour of one, to the prejudice of the others rights, it will not doe it, so should they fall into disorder. Let us goe on in the name of God; let us follow.  That order leadeth on such as follow it: those that follow it not, it haleth on, both with their rage and physicke together.  Cause a purgation to be prepared for your braine; it will be better emploied unto it then to your stomacke.  A Lacedemonian being asked, what had made him live so long in health, answered, 'The ignorance of physicke.  And Adrian the Emperour, as he was dying, 

ceased not to crie out that the number of physitians had killed him. A bad wrestler became a physitian. 'Courage,' said Diogenes to him, 'thou hast reason to doe so, for now shalt thou helpe to put them into the ground who have heeretofore ayded to lay thee on it.  But according to Nicocles, they have this happe, that the sunne doth manifest their successe, and the earth doth cover their fault.  And besides, they have a very advantageous fashion among themselves, to make use of all manner of events; for whatsoever either Fortune or Nature, or any other strange cause (whereof the number is infinite) produceth in us or good or healthfull, it is the priviledge of physicke to ascribe it unto herselfe.  All the fortunate successes that come to the patient which is under their government, it is from nature he hath them.  The occasions that have cured me, and which heale a thousand others who never send or call for physitians to helpe them, they usurpe them in their subjects.  And touching ill accidents, either they utterly disavow them, in imputing the blame of them to the patient, by some vaine reasons, whereof they never misse to finde a great number; as he lay with his armes out of the bed, he hath heard the noyse of a coach.

     -----rhedarum transitus arcto
Vicorum inflexu./1

Coaches could hardly passe,
The lane so crooked was.

brought to a quotidian ague, without them should have had a continuall feaver.  They must needes thrive in their businesses since all ills redownd to their profit.  Truely they have reason to require of the pacient an application of favourable confidence in them: which must necessarily be in good earnest and yeelding to apply it selfe unto imaginations, over-hardly to be believed, Plato said very well and to the purpose, that freely to lie belonged onely to physitians, since our health dependeth on their vanitie and falsehood of promises.  AEsope, an author of exceeding rare excellence, and whose graces few discover, is very pleasant in representing this kinde of tyrannicall authority unto us, which they usurpe upon poore soules, weakned by sickenes and overwhelmed through feare: for he reporteth how a sicke man, being demaunded by his physitian what operation he felt by the physicke he had given him: 'I have sweate much,' answered he. 'That is good,' replied the physitian.  Another time he asked him againe how he had done since: 'I have had a great cold and quivered much,' said he. 'That is very well,' quoth the physitian againe.  The third time he demaunded of him how he felt himselfe, he answered: 'I swell and puffe up as it were with the dropsie. 'That's not amisse,' said the physitian.  A familiar friend of his comming afterward to visite him, and to know how hee did. 'Verily,' said be, 'my friend, I die with being too too well.  There was a more equall law in Egypt by which for the first three dayes the physitian tooke the patient in hand upon the patients perill and fortune; but the three dayes expired, it was at his owne.  For, what reason is there that AEsculapius their patrone must have beene strucken with thunder, forsomuch as he recovered Hippolitus from death to life?

Yam pater omnipotens aliquem indignatus ab umbris,
Mortalem infernis ad lumina surgere vitae,
Ipse repertorem medicinae talis, et artis
Fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas./1

Jove, scorning that from shades infernall dight,
A mortall man should rise to lifes new light,
Apolloes sonne to hell he thunder-threw,
Who such an arte found out, such medivine knew,

Terrigenam, herbigradam, domiportam, sanguine cassam./1

One, earth-borne, goe-by-grasse, house-bearing, slimie, blood-lesse.

magike spells or charmes than effects of any solide science.  I omit to speake of the odde number of their pilles, the destination of certaine dayes and feastes of the yeare, the distinction of houres to gather the simples of their ingredients, and the same rewbarbative and severely-grave looke of theirs, and of their port and countenance, which Plinie himselfe mocketh at.  But, as I was about to say they have failed, forsomuch as they have not added this to their faire beginning, to make their assemblies more religious, and their consultations more secret.  No profane man should have access unto them, no more than to the secret ceremonies of AEsculapius. By which meanes it commeth to passe that their irresolution; the weaknesse of their arguments, divinations and grounds; the sharpenesse of their contestations, full of hatred, of jealousie and particular considerations, being apparant to all men; a man must needes be starke blinde if he who falleth into their hands see not himselfe greatly endangered.  Who ever saw physitian use his fellowes receipt without dimishing or adding somewhat unto it; whereby they greatly betraie their arte and make us perceive they rather respect their reputation, and consequently their profit, than the well-fare or interests oi their patients.  He is the wisest amongst their doctors who hath long since prescribed them that one alone should meddle to cure a sicke man; for, if it prosper not with him, and he do no good, the reproach will not be great to the arte of physicke through the fault of one man alone; and on the other side, if it thrive well with him, the glorie shall be the greater; whereas if they be many, on every hand will they discredit their mysterie, because they oftner happen to doe ill than well.  They should have been content with the perpetuall disagreeing which is ever found in the opinions of the principall masters and chiefe authors of their science, knowne but by such as are conversant in bookes, without making apparent shew of the controversies, and inconstancies of their judgement, which they foster and continue amongst themselves.  Will 

wee have an example of the ancient debate of physicke?  Herophilus placeth the originall cause of sickenesse in the humours:  Erasistratus, in the blood of the arteries:  Asclepiades, in the invisible atomes that passe into our pores Alcmeon, in the abundance or defence of corporall forces: Diocles, in the inequality of the bodies elements, and in the quality of the aire wee breathe:  Strabo, in the abundance, cruditie, and corruption of the nourishment wee take:  Hipocrates doth place it in the spirits.  There is a friend of theirs, whom they know better than I, who to his purpose crieth out that the most important science in use amongst us (as that which hath charge of our health and preservation) is by il hap the most uncertaine, the most confused, and most agitated with infinite changes.  There is no great danger to mistake the height of the sunne, or missereckon the fraction of some astronomical suppuration; but herein, whereon our being and chiefe freehold doth wholly depend, it is no wisedome to abandon ourselves to the mercy of the agitation of so manifold contrary windes.  Before the Peloponnesian war there was no great newes of this science.  Hipocrates brought it into credite.  Whatsoever he established, Chrisippus overthrew.  Afterward Erasistratus, grande-childe to Aristotle, re-enverst what ever Chrysippus had written of it.  After these, start up the Emperikes, who concerning the managig of this arte, tooke a new course altogether different from those ancient fathers.  And when their credit began to growe stale, Herophilus brought another kind of physicke into use, which Asclepiades, when his turne came, impugned, and in the end subverted.  Then came the opinions of Themison to bee in great authority, then those of Musa, and afterward those of Vectius Valens, a famous physitian, by reason of the acquaintance he had with Messalina. During the time of Nero, the soveraigntitie of physick fel to the hands of Thessalus, who abolished and condemned whatsoever had been held of it before his time.  This mans doctrine was afterward wholly overthrowne by Crinas of Marseilles, 

who anew revived and framed that all men should direct and rule medicinable operations to the Ephemerides and motions of the starres, to eate, to drinke, to sleepe at what houre it should please Luna and Mercurie.  His authority was soone after supplanted by Charinus, a physitian of the same towne of Marseilles, who not onely impugned ancient physicke, but also the use of warme and publike bathes, which had beene accustomed to many ages before. Hee caused men to bee bathed in cold water; yea, were it in the deepe of winter he plunged and dived sicke men into the running streame of rivers. Untill Plinies time no Romane had ever dained to exercise the arte of physicke, but was ever used by strangers and Graecians as at this daie it is used in France by Latinizers.  For as a famous physitian saith, we doe not easily admit and allow that physicke, which wee understand, nor those drugs we gather our selves.  If those nations from whom wee have the wood guiacum, the sarsapareille, and the wood esquine, have any physitian amongst them, how much thinke we by the same commendation of the strangenesse, rarenesse and dearth, they will rejoyce at our coleworts and parsly?  For, who dareth contemne things sought and fetcht so farre-off with the hazard of so long and dangerous a peregrination? since these auncient mutations of physicke, there have beene infinite others, that have continued unto our dayes, and most often entire and universal mutations; as are those which Paracelsus, Fioravanti and Argenterius have produced: for (as it is told me) they do not only change a receipt, but also the whole contexture and policie of physickes whole body, accusing such as hitherto have made profession thereof, of ignorance and cosinage.  Now I leave to your imagination in what plight the poore patient findeth himselfe.  If we could but he assured, when they mistake themselves, their physicke would do us no harme, although not profit us, it were a reasonable composition for a man to hazard himselfe to get some good, so he endangered not himselfe to lose by it. 

AEsope reporteth this storie, that one who had sought a Moore- slave, supposing his blacke hew had come unto him by some strange accident, or ill usage of his former master, with great diligence caused him to be medicined with divers bathes and sundry potions; it fortuned the Moore did no whit mend or change his swarthy complexion, but lost his former health.  How often commeth it to passe, and how many times see we physitians charge one another with their patients death.  I remember a popular sickenesse which some yeares since greatly troubled the townes about mee, very mortall and dangerous the rage whereof being overpast, which had carried away an infinite number of persons; one of the most famous physitians in all the country published a booke concerning that disease, wherein he adviseth himselfe that they had done amisse to use phlebotomy, and confesseth it had beene one of the principall causes of so great an inconvenience.  Moreover, their authors hold that there is no kinde of physicke, but bath some hurtfull part in it.  And if those that fit our turne doe in some sort harm us, what must those doe which are given us to no purpose, and out of season?  As for me, if nothing else belonged thereunto, I deeme it a matter very dangerous, and of great prejudice for him who loathes the taste or abborres the smell of a potion, to swallow it at so unconvenient houres, and so much against his heart.  And I thinke it much distempereth a sicke man, namely, in a season he hath so much neede of rest.  Besides, consider but the occasions on tvhich they ordinarily ground the cause of our sickenesses; they are so light and delicate, as thence I argue that a very small error in compounding of their drugges may occasion as much detriment.  Now if the mistaking in a physitian be dangerous, it is very ill for us ; for it is hard if he fall not often into it.  He hath needs of many parts, divers considerations, and severall circumstances to proportion his desseigne justly.  He ought to know the sicke man's complexion, his temper, his humours, his inclinations, and his imaginations.  He 

must be assured or external circumstances; of the nature of the place; the condition of the aire; the quality of the weather; the situation of the planets, and their influences.  In sickenes, be ought to be acquainted with the causes, with the signes, with the affections and criticall daies; in drugges, he should understand their weight, their vertue, and their operation, the country, the figure, the age, the dispensation.  In all these parts be must know how to proportion and referre them one unto another, thereby to beget a perfect symmetric or due proportion of each part; wherein if he misse never so little, or if amongst so many wheeles and several motions, the least be out of tune or temper, it is enough to marre all. God knowes how hard the knowledge of most of these parts is: for example, bow shall he finde out the proper signe of the disease, every malady being capable of an infinite number of signes.  How many debates, doubts at live the amongst themselves about the interpretations of urine.  Otherwise, wbence should that continuall altercation come we see amongst them about the knowledge of the disease?  How should we excuse this fault, wherein they fall so often, to take a martin for a fox?  In those diseases I have had (so they admitted any difficulty) I could never yet finde three agreeing in one opinion. I more willingly note examples that concerne my selfe.  A gentleman in Paris was not long since cut for the stone by the appointment of physitians, in whose bladder they found no more stone then in his band: where also a Bishop, who was my very good friend, had by his physitians been earnestly solicited to be cut; and my selfe, because they were of his counsell, upon their words, aided to perswade him to it; who being deceased and opened, it was found he bad no infirmity but in his reines.  They are lesse excusable in this disease, for so much as it is in some sort palpable.  Whereby I judge the arte of chirurgery much more certaine; for it seeth and handleth what it doth, and therein is lesse conjecture and divination.  Whereas phisitians have no 

speculum matrices to discover our braine, our lungs, and our liver unto them.  The very promises of physicke are incredible.  For being to provide for divers and contrary accidents, which often trouble us together, and with a kinde of necessary relation one unto another, as the heate of the liver and the cold of the stomacke, they will perswade us that with their ingredients this one shall warme the stomacke, and this other coole the liver; the one hath charge to goe directly to the reynes, yea even to the bladder, without enstalling his operation anywhere else, and by reason of its secret propriety, keeping his force and vertue all that long way, and so full of stops or lets untill it come to the place to whose service it is destinated.  Another shall drie the braine, and another moisten the lungs.  Of all this hotch-pot having composed a mixture or potion, is it not a kinde of raving to hope their several virtues shall divide and separate themselves from out such a confusion or commixture, to run to so divers charges?  I should greatly feare they would loose or change their tickets and trouble their quarters.  And who can imagine, that in this liquid confusion these faculties be not corrupted, confounded, and alter one another?  For that the execution of this ordinance depends on another officer, to whose trust and mercy we must once more commit our lives?  As we have doublet and hose-makers to make our cloths, and are so much the better fitted, inasmuch as each medleth with his owne trade, and such have their occupation more strictly limited then a tailer that will make all; and as for our necessary foode, some of our great lords, for their more commodity and ease, have severall cookes, as some only to dresse boyled meates, and some to roste, others to bake; whereas if one cooke alone would supply all three in generall he could never doe it so exactly:  In like sort for the curing of all diseases, the AEgyptians had reason to reject this generall mysterie of physitians, and to sunder this profession for every malady, allotting each part of the body his distinct workman.  For every particular part was thereby more properly 

attended, and lesse confusedly governed, and for so much as they regarded but the same especially.  Our physitians never remember that he who will provide for all provideth for nothing; and that the totall and summarie policy of this little world is unto them undigestible.  Whilst they feared to stop the course of a bloody flux because he should not fal into an ague, they killed a friend of mine who was more worth then all the rabble of them, yea, were they as many more.  They ballance their divinations of future things with present evils, and because they will not cure the braine in prejudice of the stomacke, they offend the stomacke and empaire the braine, and all by their seditious and tumultuary drugs.  Concerning the variety and weaknes of the reasons of this Art, it is more apparent then in any other Art.  Aperitive things are good for a man that's troubled wifh the collike, because that opening and dilating the passages, they addresse this slimy matter whereof the gravel and stone is engendred, and so convay downeward whatsoever beginneth to harden and petrifie in the reines: aperitive things are dangerous for a man thats troubled with the collick, because that opening and dilating the passages, they addresse towards the reines the matter engeridring gravell, which by reason of the propensions they have with it, easily seizing on the same, must by consequence stay great store of that which is convaied unto them.  Moreover, if by chance it fortune to meet with a body somewhat more grosse then it ought to be, to passe all those strait turnings, which to expel the same they must glide thorow; that body being moved by those soluble things, and cast in those strait chanels, and comming to stop them, it will doubtlesse hasten a certain and most dolorous death.  They have a like constancy about the counsels they give us, touching the regiment of our life.  It is good to make water often; for by experience we see that permitting the same idlely to ly still, we give it leisure to discharge it selfe of her lees and excrements, which may serve to breed the stone in the bladder.  It is good to make 

water but seldome, for the weighty dregs it drawes with it are not easily carried away except by violence: as by experience is seene in a torrent that runneth very swift, which sweepeth and clenseth the place through which he passeth, much more than doth a slow-gliding streame.  Likewise it is good to have often copulation with women, for that openeth the passages, and convaieth the gravell away: it is also hurtfull, for it heateth, wearieth, and weakneth the reines.  It is good for one to bathe himselfe in warme water, forsomuch as that looseth and moistneth the places where the gravel and stone lurketh: it is also bad, because this application of externall heat helpeth the reines to concoct, to harden and petrifie the matter disposed unto it.  To such as are at the bathes, it is more healthful to eat but little at night, that the water they are to drink the next morning, finding the stomacke empty, and without any obstacle, it may worke the greater operation: on the other side, it is better to eat but a little at dinner, lest a man might hinder the operation of the water, which is not yet perfect, and not to charge the stomacke so suddenly, after this other travell, and leave the office of digesting unto the night, which can better do it then the day; the body and spirit being then in continual motion and action. Loe heere how they in all their discourses juggle, daily, and trifle at our charge, and are never able to bring mee a proposition, but I can presently frame another to the contrary of like force and consequence.  Let them then no longer raile against those who in any sicknes suffer themselves gently to be directed by their owne appetite, and by the counsell of nature, and who remit themselves to common fortune.  I have by occasion of my travels seene almost all the famous bathes of Christendome, and some years since have begun to use them: for in generall I deeme bathing to be very good and healthy, and I am perswaded we incurre no small incommodities in our health by having neglected and lost this custome, which in former times were generally observed very neere amongst all nations, and is yet with divers at 

this time to wash their bodies every day.  And I cannot imagine but that we are much the worse with keeping our bodies all over- crusted, and our pores stopt with grease and filth.  And touching the drinking of them, fortune hath first made it to agree very well with in taste; secondly, it is naturall and simple, and though vaine, nothing dangerous; whereof this infinity of people of al sorts and complexions, and of all nations that come to them, doth warrant mee.  And although I have as yet found no extraordinary good or wondrous effect in them, but rather having somewhat curiously examined the matter, I finde all the reports of such operations, which in such places are reported, and of many believed, to be false and fabulous.  So easily doth the world deceive itselfe, namely, in things it desireth or faine would have come to passe.  Yet have I seen but few or none at al whom these waters have made worse; and no man can without malice denie but that they stirre up a mans appetite, make easie digestion, and except a man goe to them overweake and faint (which I would have none doe) they will adde a kinde of new mirth unto him.  They have not the power to raise men from desperate diseases.  They may stay some light accident, or prevent the threats of some alteration.  Whosoever goeth to them and resolveth not to be merry, that so he may enjoy the pleasure of the good company resorts to them, and of the pleasant walks or exercises which the beauty of those places, where bathes are commonly seated, doth affoord and delight men withall; he without doubt loseth the better part and most assured of their effect. And therefore have I hitherto chosen to stay my self and make use of those, where I found the pleasure of the situation most delightsome, most conveniencie of lodging, of victuals and company, as are in France the bathes of Banieres; those of Plombieres, on the frontiers of Germany and Loraine: those of Baden in Switzerland; those of Luca in Tuscanie; and especially those della Villa, which I have used most often and at divers seasons of the yeare. Every nation hath some 

particular opinion concerning their use, and severall lawes and formes how to use them, and all different: and as I have found by experience the effect in a manner all one.  In Germanie they never use to drinke of the waters, but bathe themselves for all diseases, and will lie paddling in them almost from sunne to sunne.  In Italie, if they drinke nine dayes of the water, they wash themselves other thirtie dayes with it.  And commonly they drinke it mixt with other drugges, thereby to helpe the operation. Here, our physitians appoint us when wee have drunke to walk upon it that so wee may helpe to digest it: there, so soone as they have drunke, they make them lie a bed until they have voyded the same out againe, continually warming their stomack and feete with warme clothes.  All the Germanes whilest they lie in the water doe particularly use cupping glasses and scarifications; and the Italians use their doccie, which are certaine spouts running with warme waters convayed from the bathes-spring in leaden pipes, where, for the space of a month, they let it spout upon their heads, upon their stomacke, or upon any other part of the bodie, according as neede requireth, one houre in the forenoone and as long in the afternoone.  There are infinit other differences of customes in every countrey, or, to say better, there is almost no resemblances betweene one and the other.  See how this part of physicke by which alone I have suffered myselfe to be carried away, which, though it be least artificiall, yet hath she the share of the confusion and uncertainty seene in all other parts and every where of this arte. Poets may say what they list, and with more emphasis and grace witnesse these two epigrammes:

Alcon hesterno signum lovis attiqit .  Ille
Quamvis marmoreus, vim patitur medici.
Ecce hodie jussus transferri ex aede vetusta,
Efertur, quamvis sit Deus atque lapis.

Alcon look't yesterday on carved Iove.
Iove, though of marble, feeles the leeches force,
From his old church to day made to remoove,
Though god and stone, hee's carried like a corse.

Lotus nobiscum est hilaris, caenavit et idem,
Inventus mane est mortuus Androgoras.
Tam subitae mortis causam Faustine requiris?
Insomnis medicum viderat Hermocratem./1

Androgoras in health bath'd over night with us,
And merry supt, but in the morne starke dead was found.
Of his so sudden death the cause shall I discusse?
Hermocrates the leech he saw in sleepe unsound.

and credit in reputation, devised to make one of his children Sir John Lacke-latine or Master Peter-an-oake: and having made him learne to write in some neigbbour towne not far off, at last procured him to be a country Notary or petty-fogging clark.  This fellow having gotten some pelfe and become great, began to disdaine their ancient customes and put the pompe and statelines of our higher regions into their heads.  It fortuned that a chiefe gossip of his had a goate dis-horned, whom he so importunately solicited to sue the trespasser and demand law and right at the justices hands that dwelt thereabouts; and so never ceasing to sow sedition and breed suites amongst his neighbours, he never left till he had confounded and marred all.  After this corruption or intrusion of law (they say) there ensued presently another mischiefe of worse consequence by means of a quacke- salver or empirike physitian that dwelt amongst them who would needes be married to one of their daughters, and so endenizon and settle himself amongst them.  This gallant began first to teach and instruct them in the names of agues, rheumes, and impostumes; then the situation of the heart, of the liver and other intrailes: a science untill then never known or heard of among them.  And in stead of garlike, wherewith they had learned to expell and were wont to cure all diseases of what qualitie and how dangerous soever they were, he induced and inured them, were it but for a cough or cold, to take strange compositions and potions: and thus beganne to trafficke not only their health but also their deaths.  They sweare that even from that time they apparently perceived that the evening sereine or night-calme bred the head-ache and blasted them; that to drinke being hot or in a sweat empaired their healths; that autumne windes were more unwholesome and dangerous than those of the spring-time: and that since his slibber-sawces, potions, and physicke came first in use, they find themselves molested and distempered with legions of unaccustomed maladies and unknowne diseases, and 

plainly feele and sensibly perceive a generall weaknesse and declination in their ancient vigor, and that their lives are nothing so long as before they were.  Loe here the first of my tales.  The other is that before I was troubled with the stone- chollicke and gravell in the bladder, hearing divers make especiall account of a hee-goates blood as a heavenly manna sent in these latter ages for the good and preservation of mans life and hearing men of good understanding speake of it as of an admirable and much-good-working drugge and of an infallible operation:  I, who have ever thought my selfe subject to all accidents that may in any sort fall on man, being yet in perfect health, began to take pleasure to provide my selfe of this myracle, and forthwith gave order (according to the receipt) to have a buck-goate gotten and carefully fed in my own house.  For the blood must be drawne from him in the hottest month of summer, and he must only be fed with soluble hearbes, and drincke nothing but white-wine.  It was my fortune to come to mine owne house the very same day the Goate should be killed; where some of my people came in haste to tell me that my cooke found two or three great bowles in his pauncb, which in his maw amongst his meat shocked one against another.  I was so curious as I would needes have all his garbage brought before me; the thicke and large skinne whereof I caused to be opened, out of which came three great lumps or bodies, as light as any spunge, so framed as they seemed to be hollow, yet outwardly hard and very firme, bemotled with divers dead and wannish colours; the one perfectly as round as any bowle, the other two somewhat lesser, and not so round, yet seemed to grow towards it.  I have found (after I had made diligent inquiry among such as were wont to open such beasts) that it was a seld-seene and unheard of accident.  It is very likely they were such stones as ours be, and cozen-germanes to them; which if it be, it is but vaine for such as be troubled with the stone or gravell to hope to be cured by meanes of a beasts blood, that was drawing neere unto death, and 

suffered the same disease.  For, to aleadge the blood cannot participate of that contagion, and doth no whit thereby alter his accustomed vertue, it may rather be inferred that nothing engendreth in a body but by consent and communication of all the parts.  The whole masse doth worke, and the whole frame agitate altogether, although one part, according to the diversitie of operations, doth contribute more or lesse than another; whereby it manifestly appeareth that, in all parts of this bucke-goate, there was some grettie or petrificant qualitie.  It was not so much for feare of any future chaunce, or in regard of my selfe, that I was so curious of this experiment; as in respect, that as well in mine owne house as elsewere in sundry other places, it commeth to passe that many women do often gather and lay up in store divers such kindes of slight druggs to help their neighbours and other'people with them in time of necessitie; applying one same remedie to an hundred severall diseases: yea many times such as they would be very loath to take themselves; with which they often have good lucke, and well thrives it with them.  As for me, I honour physitians, not according to the common-received rule, for necessitie sake (for to this passage another of the prophets may be alleaged who reprooved King Asa, because he had recourse unto physitians) but rather for love I beare unto themselves; having seene some, and knowne diverse honest men amongst them, and worthy all love and esteeme.  It is not them I blame, but their arte; yet doe I not greatly condemne them for seeking to profit by our foolishnesse (for most men do so) and it is a thing common to all worldlings.  Diverse possessions and many vocations, both more and lesse worthie than theirs, subsist and are grounded onely upon publike abuses and popular errours.  I send for them when I am sicke, if they may conveniently be found, and love to be entertained by them, rewarding them as other men doe.  I give them authority to enjoyne me, to keepe my selfe warme if I love it better so than otherwise. They may chuse, be it either 

leekes or lettuce, what my broth shall be made withall, and appoint me either white or claret to drink: and so of other things else, indifferent to my taste, humour or custome.  I know well it is nothing to them, forsomuch as sharpnesse and strangenesse are accidents of physickes proper essence. Lycurgus allowed and appoynted the sicke men of Sparta to drinke wine. Why did he so?  Because being in health they hated the use of it.  Even as a gentleman who dwelleth not farre from me useth wine as a sovereigns remedie against agews, because being in perfect health, he hateth the taste thereof as death.  How many of them see we to be of my humour?  That is, to disdaine all physicke for their owne behoofe, and live a kinde of formall free life, and altogether contrary to that which they prescribe to other?  And what is that but a manifest abusing of our simplicitie.  For, they hold their life as deare and esteeme their health as pretious as wee do ours, and would apply their effects to their skill if themselves knew not the uncertainty and falsehood of it.  It is the feare of paine and death; the impatience of the disease and griefe: and indiscreet desire and headlong thirst of health, that so blindeth them and us.  It is meere faintnes that makes our conceit: and pusillanimitie forceth our credulitie to be so yeelding, and pliable..  The greater part of whom doe notwithstanding not beleeve so much as they endure and suffer of others; For I heare them complaine, and speake of it no otherwise than we doe.  Yet in the end are they resolved.  What should I doe then?  As if impatience were in it selfe a better remedie than patience.  Is there any of them that hath yeelded to this miserable subjection, that doth not likewise yeelde to all maner of impostures? or dooth not subject himselfe to the mercie of whomsoever hath the impudencie to promise him recoverie and warrant him health?      The Babilonians were wont to carry their sicke people into the open streetes: the common sort were there physitians: where all such as passed by were by 

humanitie and civilitie to enquire of their state and maladie, and according to their skill or experience give them some sound advise and good counsell. We differ not greatly from them: there is no poore woman so simple whose mumbling and muttering, whose slibber-slabbes and drenches we doe not employ. And as for mee, were I to buy any medicine, I would rather spend my money in this kinde of physicke than in any other, because therein is no danger or hurt to be feared.  What Homer and Plato said of the AEgyptians, that they were all physitians, may well be said of all people.  There is neither man nor woman that vanteth not himselfe to have some receipt or other, and doth not hazard the same upon his neighbour, if he will but give credite unto him.  I was not long since in a company where I wot not who of my fraternity brought newes of a kinde of pilles, by true accompt, composed of a hundred and odde severall ingredients; whereat we laughed very heartily, and made our selves good sport; for what rocke so hard were able to resist the shocke or withstand the force of so thicke and numerous a battery?  I understand, neverthelesse, of such as tooke of them, that the least graine of gravell dained not to stirre at all.  I cannot so soone give over writing of this subject, but I must needs say a word or two concerning the experience they have made of their prescriptions, which they would have us take as a warantice or assurance of the certainty of their drugges and potions.  The greatest number, and, as I deeme, more than the two thirds of medicinable vertues, consist in the quintessence or secret propriety of simples, whereof wee can have no other instruction but use and custome.  For quintessence is no other thing than equality, whereof wee cannot with our reason finde out the cause.  In such trials or experiments, those which they affirme to have acquired by the inspiration of some daemon, I am contented to receive and allow of them (for touching myracles, I meddle not with them) or be it the experiments drawne from things, which for other 

respects fall often in use with us: as if in wooll, wherewith we wont to cloth our selves, some secret exsiccating or drying quality have by accident beene found, that cureth kibes and chilblaines in the heeles and if in reddishes, we eat for nourishment, some opening or atentive operation have beene discovered.  Galen reporteth that a leprous man chanced to be cured by meanes of a cuppe of wine he had drunken forsomuch as a viper was by fortune fallen into the wine caske.  In which example we finde the meane and a very likely director to this experience.  As also in those to which physitians affirme to have beene addressed by the examples of some beasts.  But in most of other experiences to which they say they came by fortune, and had no other guide but hazard, I finde the progresse of this information incredible.  I imagine man heedfully viewing about him the infinite number of things, creatures, plants and mettals.  I wot not where to make him beginne his essay; and suppose he cast his first fantasie upon an elkes-horne, to which an easie and gentle credulity must be given; he will be as farre to seeke, and as much troubled in his second operation: so, many diseases and severall circumstances are proposed unto him, that before he come to the certainty of this point, unto which the perfection of his experience should arrive, mans wit shall be to seeke, and not know where to turne himselfe; and before (amiddest this infinity of things) he finde out what this horne is: amongst the numberlesse diseases that are, what an epilepsie is; the sundry and manifolde complexions in a melancholy man; so many seasons in winter: so diverse nations amongst Frenchmen; so many ages in age; so diverse celestiall changes and alterations in the conjunction of Venus and Saturne: so severall and many partes in a mans body, nay in one of his fingers.  To all which being neither guided by Argument, nor by conjecture, nor by example or divine inspiration, but by the onely motion of fortune, it were most necessar it should be by a perfectly artificiall, well-ordred, and methodicall 

fortune.  Moreover, suppose the disease thorowly cured, how shall he rest assured but that either the evill was come to his utmost period, or that an effect of the hazard caused the same health?  Or the operation of some other thing, which that day he had either eaten, drunke or touched? or whether it were by the merite of his grandmothers prayers?  Besides, suppose this experiment to have beene perfect, how many times was it applied and begun anew; and how often was this long and tedious web of fortunes and encounters woven over againe, before a certaine rule might be concluded? And being concluded, by whom is it I pray you I?  Amongst so many millions of men you shall scarce meet with three or foure that will duely observe and carefully keepe a register of their experiments: shall it be your or his happe to light truely or hit just with one of them three or foure? What if another man, nay, What if a hundred other men, have had and made contrary experiments, and yet have sorted well?  We should peradventure discerne some shew of light if all the judgements and consultations of men were knowne unto us.  But that three witnesses and three doctors shall sway all mankind, there is no reason.  It were requisite humane nature had appointed and made speciall choise of them, and that by expresse procuration and letter of atturny they were by her declared our judges and deputed our atturnies. 

MADAME, the last time it pleased you to come and visite me, you found me upon this point.  And because it may be these toyes of mine may happily come to your hands, I would have them witnesse their author reputeth himselfe highly honoured for the favours it shall please you to shew them.  Wherein you shall discerne the very same demeanor and selfe-countenance you have seene in his conversation.  And could I have assumed unto my selfe any other fashion than mine owne accustomed, or more honourable and better forme, I would not have done it: for al I seeke to reape by my writings is, they will naturally represent and to the life pourtray me to your remembrance. The very same condition and faculties it pleased your Ladyship to frequent and receive with much more honor and curtesie than they any way deserve, I will place and reduce (but without alteration and change) into a solide body, which may happily continue some dayes and yeares after mee: where, when soever it shall please you to refresh your memory with them, you may easily finde them, without calling them to remembrance, which they scarcely deserve.  I would entreate you to continue the favour of your friend-ship towards me, by the same qualities through whose meanes it was produced. I labour not to be beloved more and esteemed better being dead that alive. The humour of Tiberius is ridiculous and common, who endevoured more to extinguish his glory in future ages, than yeelde himself regardfull and pleasing to men of his times.  If I were one of those to whom the world may be indebted for praise, I would quit it for the one moytie, on condition it would pay me
<Mont2-601> 

beforehand: and that the same would hasten and in great heapes environ me about, more thicke than long, and more full than lasting.  And let it hardly vanish with my knowledge, and when this sweet alluring sound shall no more tickle mine eares.  It were a fond conceit, now I am ready to leave the commerce of men, by new commendations, to goe about anew to beget my selfe unto them.  I make no account of goods which I could not employ to the use of my life.  Such as I am, so would I be elsewhere then in paper. Mine art and industry have been employed to make my selfe of some worth. My study and endevour to doe, and not to write. {deeds+} I have applied all my skill and devoire to frame my life.  Lo heere mine occupation and my worke.  I am a lesse maker of bookes then of any thing else.  I have desired and aimed at sufficiencie, rather for the benefite of my present and essentiall commodities then to make a store- house and hoard it up for mine heires. Whosoever hath any worth in him, let him shew it in his behaviour, maners and ordinary discourses; be it to treat of love or of quarrels; of sport and play or bed-matters, at board or elsewhere; or be it in the conduct of his owne affaires, or private household matters.  Those whom I see make good bookes, having tattered hosen and ragged clothes on, had they believed me they should first have gotten themselves good clothes.  Demand a Spartan, whether he would rather be a cunning rhetorician then an excellent souldier: nay, were I asked, I would say a good cooke, had I not some to serve me. Good Lord (Madame) how I would hate such a commendation, to be a sufficient man in writing, {PlainDealer+} and a foolish-shallow-headed braine or coxcombe in all things else: yet had I rather be a foole, both here and there, then to have made so base a choice wherein to imploy my worth.  So farre am I also from eexpecting by such trifles to gaine new honour to my self, as I shal think I make a good bargain if I loose not a part of that little I had already gained.  For besides that this dumbe and dead picture shall 

derogate and steale from my naturall being, it fadgeth not and hath no reference unto my better state, but is much fallen from my first vigor and naturall jollity, enclining to a kind of drooping or mouldinesse.  I am now come to the bottome of the vessel, which beginneth to taste of his dregs and lees.  Otherwise (good Madame) I should not have dared so boldly to have ripped up the mysteries of physicke, considering the esteeme and credite of your selfe, and so many others, ascribe unto it, and hold it in; had I not beene directed thereunto by the authors of the same, I thinke they have but two ancient ones in Latine, to wit Pliny and Celsus.  If you fortune at any time to looke unto them, you shall finde them to speake much more rudely of their art then I doe.  I but pinch it gently; they cut the throate of it.  Pliny, amongst other things, doth much scoffe at them, forsomuch as when they are at their wits end, and can go no further, they have found out this goodly shift to send their long-turmoiled, and to no end much tormented patient, with their drugs and diets, some to the helpe of their vowes and myracles, and some others to hot baths and waters. (Be not offended, noble Lady, he meaneth not those on this side, under the protection of your house, and all Gramontoises.) They have a third kinde of shift or evasion to shake off and discharge themselves of the amputations or aches wee may justly charge them with, for the amendment of our infirmities; whereof they have so long had the survay and government, as they have, no more inventions or devises left them to ammuse us with; that is, to send us to seeke and take the good aire of some other country.  Madam, we have harped long enough upon one string; I hope you will give me leave to come to my former discourses againe, from which, for your better entertainment, I had somewhat disgressed.  It was (as farre as I remember) Pericles, who being demanded how he did, 'you may,' said he, 'judge it by this,' shewing certaine scroules or briefes he had tied about his necke and armes.  He would infer that he 

was very sicke, since he was forced to have recourse to such vanities, and had suffered himselfe to be so drest.  I affirme not but I may one day be drawne to such fond opinions, and yeeld my life and health to the mercy, discretion, and regiment of physitians.  I may haply fall into this fond madnesse; I dare not warrant my future constancy.  And even then if any aske me how I doe, I may answer him as did Pericles: you may judge, by shewing my hand fraughted with six drammes of opium.  It will be an evident token of a violent sicknesse.  My judgement shall be exceedingly out of temper.  If impacience or feare get that advantage upon me, you may thereby conclude some quelling fever hath seized upon my minde.  I have taken the paines to plead this cause, whereof I have but small understanding, somewhat to strengthen and comfort naturall propension against the drugs and practice of our physicke, which is derived into me from mine ancestors: lest it might only be a stupid and rash inclination, and that it might have a little more forme.  And that also those who see me so constant against the exhortations and threats which are made against me, when sicknesse commeth upon me, may not thinke it to be a meere conceit and simple wilfulnesse; and also, lest there be any so peevish as to judge it to be some motive of vaine glory.  It were a strange desire to seeke to draw honour from an action common both to me, to my gardiner, or, to my groome.  Surely my heart is not so pufft up, nor so windy, that a solide, fleshy and marrowy pleasure as health is, I should change it for an imaginary spiritual and airy delight. Renowne or glory (were it that of Aymons foure sons) is over deerely bought by a man of my humour, if it cost him but three violent fits of the chollike. Give me health a Gods name.  Those that love our physicke may likewise have their considerations good, great and strong; I hate no fantasies contrary to mine.  I am so far from vexing my selfe to see my judgement differ from other mens, or to grow incompatible of the society or conversation of men, to be of any other faction or 

opinion then mine owne; that contrariwise (as variety is the most generall fashion that nature hath followed, and more in the mindes then in the bodies: forsomuch as they are of a more supple and yeelding substance, and susceptible or admitting of formes) I finde it more rare to see our humor or desseignes agree in one.  And never were there two opinions in the world alike, no more than two haires or two graines.  Diversity is the most universall quality.