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  • The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Sir Thomas Browne (Volume 1 of
  • 3), by Thomas Browne
  • This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
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  • Title: The Works of Sir Thomas Browne (Volume 1 of 3)
  • Author: Thomas Browne
  • Editor: Charles Sayle
  • Release Date: July 24, 2012 [EBook #39960]
  • Language: English
  • Character set encoding: UTF-8
  • *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF SIR THOMAS ***
  • Produced by Jonathan Ingram, KD Weeks and the Online
  • Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
  • file was produced from images generously made available
  • by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries.)
  • Transcriber's Note
  • Footnotes and section headers were both printed in the margins as
  • sidenotes.
  • For this text version, numbered marginal footnotes have been moved to
  • the end of their paragraphs. The headers have been moved to appear on a
  • separate line at the beginning of each section. Redundant sidenotes
  • merely indicating Part and Section numbers have been removed. Those
  • marginal notes which serve as paragraph descriptions, at or near the
  • head of a paragraph, precede that paragraph. Those which serve to
  • annotate specific points are inserted parenthetically as [SN: notes].
  • The Annotator's note which precedes Religio Medici uses marginal notes
  • as references to the relevant sections and pages in the printed text.
  • On occasion, the Latin passages employ a scribal abbreviation 'q;' for
  • 'qus', which has been retained.
  • Descriptive notes have been inserted at the beginning of the sentence to
  • which they refer, like this: [Sidenote: Use of Italics] Italics are used
  • freely, and have been rendered using _underscore_ characters.
  • Please consult the more detailed notes at the end of this text.
  • THE ENGLISH LIBRARY
  • THE WORKS OF
  • SIR THOMAS BROWNE
  • VOLUME I
  • [Illustration]
  • THE WORKS OF
  • SIR THOMAS BROWNE
  • Edited by
  • CHARLES SAYLE
  • VOLUME I
  • LONDON
  • GRANT RICHARDS
  • 1904
  • PREFATORY NOTE
  • This edition is an endeavour to arrive at a more satisfactory text of
  • the work of Sir Thomas Browne, and to reproduce the principal part of
  • it, as faithfully as seems advisable, in the form in which it was
  • presented to the public at the time of his death. For this purpose, in
  • the first volume, the text of the _Religio Medici_ follows more
  • particularly the issue of 1682. The _Pseudodoxia Epidemica_ here given
  • is based upon the sixth edition of ten years earlier, with careful
  • revision. In every case in which a spelling or punctuation was dubious,
  • a comparison was made of nearly all the issues printed during the
  • lifetime of the writer, and their merits weighed. By this means it is
  • hoped that the true flavour of the period has been preserved.
  • The Annotations upon the _Religio Medici_, which were always reprinted
  • with the text during the seventeenth century, are here restored. They
  • will appeal to a certain class of readers which has a right to be
  • considered. It is to be regretted that every quotation given in these
  • pages has not been verified. Several have been corrected; but to have
  • worked through them all, in these busy days, would have been a labour
  • of some years, which it is not possible to devote to the purpose. It has
  • been thought best to leave these passages therefore, in the main, as
  • they stand.[1]
  • The portrait of Sir Thomas Browne here prefixed is reproduced from the
  • engraving published in 1672 with the edition of the _Religio Medici_ and
  • _Pseudodoxia Epidemica_.
  • C.S.
  • _August, 1903._
  • [1] The quotation, now corrected, from Montaigne, on p. xxii, is a
  • typical example of the pitfall into which one is liable to stumble.
  • The passage there cited is in chapter xl. of the French author's
  • later arrangement: a clear indication of the edition of the _Essais_
  • used by the author of the Annotations. What is one to make of the
  • readings in Lucretius on p. xxv? No light is thrown upon these
  • difficulties by the edition of Browne's works published in 1686.
  • Wilkin did not reprint the Annotations, except in selection.
  • CONTENTS
  • PAGE
  • PREFATORY NOTE BY THE EDITOR, v
  • ANNOTATIONS UPON 'RELIGIO MEDICI,' ix
  • A LETTER SENT UPON THE INFORMATION OF ANIMADVERSIONS, 1
  • TO THE READER. 3
  • RELIGIO MEDICI, 7
  • PSEUDODOXIA EPIDEMICA, 113
  • TO THE READER, 115
  • THE FIRST BOOK:
  • 1. Of the Causes of Common Errors, 121
  • 2. A further Illustration of the same, 127
  • 3. Of the second cause of Popular Errors; the
  • erroneous disposition of the People, 132
  • 4. Of the nearer and more Immediate Causes
  • of Popular Errors, 140
  • 5. Of Credulity and Supinity, 147
  • 6. Of Adherence unto Antiquity, 152
  • 7. Of Authority, 161
  • 8. A brief enumeration of Authors, 168
  • 9. Of the Same, 178
  • 10. Of the last and common Promoter of false
  • Opinions, the endeavours of Satan, 182
  • 11. A further Illustration, 193
  • THE SECOND BOOK:
  • 1. Of Crystal, 202
  • 2. Concerning the Loadstone, 216
  • 3. Concerning the Loadstone, 233
  • 4. Of Bodies Electrical, 254
  • 5. Compendiously of sundry other common
  • Tenents, concerning Mineral and Terreous
  • Bodies, 262
  • 6. Of sundry Tenets concerning Vegetables or
  • Plants, 285
  • 7. Of some Insects, and the Properties of
  • several Plants, 299
  • THE THIRD BOOK, CHAPTERS I.-X.:
  • 1. Of the Elephant, 308
  • 2. Of the Horse, 314
  • 3. Of the Dove, 317
  • 4. Of the Bever, 321
  • 5. Of the Badger, 326
  • 6. Of the Bear, 328
  • 7. Of the Basilisk, 331
  • 8. Of the Wolf, 338
  • 9. Of the Deer, 340
  • 10. Of the King-fisher, 348
  • ANNOTATIONS UPON
  • RELIGIO MEDICI
  • _Nec satis est vulgasse fidem._--
  • Pet. Arbit. fragment.
  • THE ANNOTATOR TO THE READER
  • A. Gellius (noct. Attic. l. 20. cap. _ult._) _notes some Books that had
  • strange Titles_; Pliny (Prefat. Nat. Hist.) _speaking of some such,
  • could not pass them over without a jeer: So strange (saith he) are the
  • Titles of some Books_, Ut multos ad vadimonium deferendum compellant.
  • _And_ Seneca _saith, some such there are_, Qui patri obstetricem
  • parturienti filiæ accersenti moram injicere possint. _Of the same fate
  • this present Tract_ Religio Medici _hath partaken: Exception by some
  • hath been taken to it in respect of its Inscription, which say they,
  • seems to imply that_ Physicians _have a Religion by themselves, which is
  • more than Theologie doth warrant: but it is their Inference, and not the
  • Title that is to blame; for no more is meant by that, or endeavoured to
  • be prov'd in the_ Book _then that (contrary to the opinion of the
  • unlearned_) Physitians _have Religion as well as other men_.
  • _For the Work it self, the present Age hath produced none that has had
  • better Reception amongst the learned; it has been received and fostered
  • by almost all, there having been but one that I knew of_ (_to verifie_
  • that Books have their Fate from the Capacity of the Reader) _that has
  • had the face to appear against it; that is_ Mr. Alexander[2] Rosse; _but
  • he is dead, and it is uncomely to skirmish with his shadow. It shall be
  • sufficient to remember to the_ Reader, _that the noble and most learned_
  • Knight, _Sir_ Kenelm Digby, _has delivered his opinion of it in another
  • sort, who though in some things he differ from the_ Authors _sense, yet
  • hath he most candidly and ingeniously allow'd it to be a_ very learned
  • and excellent Piece; _and I think no Scholar will say there can be an
  • approbation more authentique. Since the time he Published his
  • Observations upon it, one_ Mr. Jo. Merryweather, _a_ Master _of_ Arts
  • _of the_ University _of_ Cambridge, _hath deem'd it worthy to be put
  • into the universal Language, which about the year_ 1644 _he performed;
  • and that hath carried the Authors name not only into the_ Low-Countries
  • _and_ France (_in both which places the Book in_ Latin _hath since been
  • printed_) _but into_ Italy _and_ Germany; _and in_ Germany _it hath
  • since fallen into the hands of a Gentleman of that Nation[3] (of his
  • name he hath given us no more than_ L.N.M.E.N.) _who hath written
  • learned_ Annotations _upon it in_ Latin, which were _Printed together
  • with the Book at_ Strasbourg 1652. _And for the general good opinion
  • the World had entertained both of the_ Work and Author, _this Stranger
  • tells you_[4]: Inter alios Auctores incidi in libruni cui Titulus
  • _Religio Medici_, jam ante mihi innotuerat lectionem istius libri multos
  • præclaros viros delectasse, imo occupasse. Non ignorabam librum in
  • _Anglia_, _Gallia_, _Italia_, _Belgio_, _Germania_, cupidissime legi;
  • coustabat mihi eum non solum in _Anglia ac Batavia_, sed et _Purisiis_
  • cum præfatione, in qua Auctor magnis laudibus fertur, esse typis
  • mandatum. Compertum mihi erat multos magnos atq; eruditos viros sensere
  • Auctorem (quantum ex hoc scripto perspici potest) sanctitate vitæ ac
  • pietare elucere, etc. _But for the worth of the_ Book _it is so well
  • known to every_ English-man _that is fit to read it, that this
  • attestation of a_ Forrainer _may seem superfluous_.
  • [2] In his _Medicus Medicatus_.
  • [3] That he was a _German_ appears by his notes _page_ 35, where he
  • useth these words, _Dulcissima nostra Germania_, etc.
  • [4] In Præfat. Annotat.
  • _The_ German, _to do him right, hath in his_ Annotations _given a fair
  • specimen of his learning, shewing his skill in the Languages, as well
  • antient as modern; as also his acquaintance with all manner of Authors,
  • both sacred and profane, out of which he has ammas'd a world of
  • Quotations: but yet, not to mention that he hath not observed some
  • Errors of the Press, and one or two main ones of the Latin Translation,
  • whereby the Author is much injured; it cannot be denyed but he hath
  • pass'd over many hard places untoucht, that might deserve a Note; that
  • he hath made_ Annotations _on some, where no need was; in the
  • explication of others hath gone besides the true sense._
  • _And were he free from all these, yet one great Fault there is he may be
  • justly charg'd with, that is, that he cannot_ manum de Tabula _even in
  • matters the most obvious: which is an affectation ill-becoming a_
  • Scholar; _witness the most learned Annotator_, Claud. Minos. Divion. in
  • præfat. commentar. Alciat. Emblemat. præfix. Præstat (_saith he_)
  • brevius omnia persequi, et leviter attingere quæ nemini esse ignota
  • suspicari possint, quam quasi ῥαψωδεῖν, perq; locos communes identidem
  • expatiari.
  • _I go not about by finding fault with his, obliquely to commend my own;
  • I am as far from that, as 'tis possible others will be: All I seek, by
  • this Preface, next to acquainting the_ Reader _with the various
  • entertainment of the Book, is, that he would be advertized that these
  • Notes were collected ten[5] years since, long before the_ German's _were
  • written; so that I am no Plagiary (as who peruseth his Notes and mine,
  • will easily perceive): And in the second place, that I made this Recueil
  • meerly for mine own entertainment, and not with any intention to evulge
  • it; Truth is my witness, the publication proceeds meerly from the
  • importunity of the Book-seller (my special friend) who being acquainted
  • with what I had done, and about to set out another Edition of the Book,
  • would not be denied these notes to attex to it; 'tis he (not I) that
  • divulgeth it, and whatever the success be, he alone is concern'd in it;
  • I only say for my self what my Annotations bear in the Frontispiece_--
  • _Nec satis est vulgasse fidem----_
  • _That is, that it was not enough to all persons (though pretenders to
  • Learning) that our_ Physitian _had publish'd his Creed, because it
  • wanted an exposition. I say further, that the_ German's _is not full_;
  • _and that_ (----Quicquid sum Ego quamvis infra Lucilli censum
  • ingeniumq;----) _my explications do in many things illustrate the Text
  • of my Author_.
  • _24 Martii,
  • 1654._
  • [5] Excepting two or three particulars in which reference is made to
  • some Books that came over since that time.
  • ANNOTATIONS UPON RELIGIO MEDICI
  • The Epistle to the _READER_
  • _Certainly that man were greedy of life, who should desire to live when
  • all the World were at an end_;] This Mr. _Merryweather_ hath rendred
  • thus; _Cupidum esse vitæ oportet, qui universo jam expirante mundo
  • vivere cuperet_; and well enough: but it is not amiss to remember, that
  • we have this saying in _Seneca_ the _Tragœdian_, who gives it us
  • thus, _Vitæ est avidus quisquis non vult mundo secum pereunte mori_.
  • _There are many things delivered Rhetorically_.] The Author herein
  • imitates the ingenuity of St. _Austin_, who in his _Retract._ corrects
  • himself for having delivered some things more like a young Rhetorician
  • than a sound Divine; but though St. _Aug._ doth deservedly acknowledge
  • it a fault in himself, in that he voluntarily published such things, yet
  • cannot it be so in this Author, in that he intended no publication of
  • it, as he professeth in this Epistle, and in that other to Sir _Kenelm
  • Digby_.
  • THE FIRST PART
  • _Sect. 1. Pag. 1._
  • _The general scandal of my Profession_.] Physitians (of the number
  • whereof it appears by several passages in this Book the Author is one)
  • do commonly hear ill in this behalf. It is a common speech (but only
  • amongst the unlearn'd sort) _Ubi tres Medici, duo Athei_. The reasons
  • why those of that Profession (I declare my self that I am none, but
  • _Causarum Actor Mediocris_, to use _Horace_ his Phrase) may be thought
  • to deserve that censure, the Author rendreth _Sect_. 19.
  • _The natural course of my studies._] The vulgar lay not the imputation
  • of Atheism only upon Physitians, but upon Philosophers in general, who
  • for that they give themselves to understand the operations of _Nature_,
  • they calumniate them, as though they rested in the second causes without
  • any respect to the first. Hereupon it was, that in the tenth Age Pope
  • _Silvester_ the second pass'd for a Magician, because he understood
  • Geometry and natural Philosophy. _Baron. Annal._ 990. And _Apuleius_
  • long before him laboured of the same suspicion, upon no better ground;
  • he was accus'd, and made a learned Apology for himself, and in that hath
  • laid down what the ground is of such accusations, in these words: _Hæc
  • fermè communi quodam errore imperitorum Philosophis objectantur, ut
  • partem eorum qui corporum causas meras et simplices rimantur,
  • irreligiosos putant, eosque aiunt Deos abnuere, ut Anaxagoram, et
  • Lucippum, et Democritum, et Epicurum, cœterosq; rerum naturæ
  • Patronos._ Apul. in Apolog. And it is possible that those that look upon
  • the second Causes scattered, may rest in them and go no further, as my
  • Lord _Bacon_ in one of his _Essayes_ observeth; but our Author tells us
  • there is a true Philosophy, from which no man becomes an Atheist,
  • _Sect._ 46.
  • _The indifferency of my behaviour and Discourse in matters of
  • Religion._] Bigots are so oversway'd by a preposterous Zeal, that they
  • hate all moderation in discourse of Religion; they are the men
  • forsooth--_qui solos credant habendos esse Deos quos ipsi colunt_.
  • _Erasmus_ upon this accompt makes a great complaint to Sir _Tho. More_
  • in an Epistle of his, touching one _Dorpius_ a Divine of _Lovain_, who
  • because, upon occasion of discourse betwixt them, _Erasmus_ would not
  • promise him to write against _Luther_, told _Erasmus_ that he was a
  • _Lutheran_, and afterwards published him for such; and yet as _Erasmus_
  • was reputed no very good Catholick, so for certain he was no Protestant.
  • _Not that I meerly owe this Title to the Font_] as most do, taking up
  • their Religion according to the way of their Ancestors; this is to be
  • blamed among all persons: It was practised as well amongst Heathens as
  • Christians.
  • _Per caput hoc juro per quod Pater antè solebat_, saith _Ascanius_ in
  • _Virgil_: and _Apuleius_ notes it for an absurdity. _Utrum Philosopho,
  • putas turpe scire ista, an neseire? negligere, an curare? nosse quanta
  • sit etiam in istis providentiæ ratio, an de diis immortalibus Matri et
  • Patri cedere_? saith he in _Apolog._ and so doth _Minutius_. _Unusquisq;
  • vestrum non cogitat prius se debere deum nosse quam colere, dum
  • inconsulte gestiuntur parentibus obedire, dum fieri malunt alieni
  • erroris accessio, quam sibi credere_. Minut. _in_ Octav.
  • _But having in my ripers examined_, etc.] according to the Apostolical
  • Precept, _Omnia probate, quod bonum est tenete_.
  • _Sect. 2. Pag. 8._
  • _There being a Geography of Religion_] _i.e._ of Christian Religion,
  • which you may see described in Mr. _Brerewood's_ Enquiries: he means not
  • of the Protestant Religion; for though there be a difference in
  • Discipline, yet the _Anglican_, _Scotic_, _Belgic_, _Gallican_, and
  • _Helvetic_ Churches differ not in any essential matter of the Doctrine,
  • as by the _Harmony of Confessions_ appears. 5. Epist. _Theod. Bezæ
  • Edmundo Grindallo Ep. Londinens_.
  • _Wherein I dislike nothing but the Name_] that is _Lutheran_,
  • _Calvinist_, _Zuinglian_, etc.
  • _Now the accidental occasion wherein_, etc.] This is graphically
  • described by _Thuanus_ in his History: but because his words are too
  • large for this purpose, I shall give it you somewhat more briefly,
  • according to the relation of the Author of the History of the Council of
  • _Trent_. The occasion was the necessity of Pope _Leo_ the Tenth, who by
  • his profusion had so exhausted the Treasure of the _Church_, that he was
  • constrained to have recourse to the publishing of Indulgencies to raise
  • monies: some of which he had destined to his own Treasury, and other
  • part to his Allyes, and particularly to his Sister he gave all the money
  • that should be raised in _Saxony_; and she, that she might make the best
  • profit of the donation, commits it to one _Aremboldus_, a Bishop to
  • appoint Treasurers for these Indulgences. Now the custome was, that
  • whensoever these Indulgences were sent into _Saxony_, they were to be
  • divulged by the Fryars _Eremites_ (of which Order _Luther_ then was),
  • but _Aremboldus_ his Agents thinking with themselves, that the Fryars
  • _Eremites_ were so well acquainted with the trade, that if the business
  • should be left to them, they should neither be able to give so good an
  • account of their Negotiation, nor yet get so much themselves by it as
  • they might do in case the business were committed to another Order; they
  • thereupon recommend it to (and the business is undertaken by) the
  • _Dominican_ Fryars, who performed it so ill, that the scandal arising
  • both from thence, and from the ill lives of those that set them on work,
  • stirred up _Luther_ to write against the abuses of these Indulgences;
  • which was all he did at first; but then, not long after, being provoked
  • by some Sermons and small Discourses that had been published against
  • what he had written, he rips up the _business_ from the beginning, and
  • publishes xcv _Theses_ against it at _Wittenberg_. Against these _Tekel_
  • a _Dominican_ writes; then _Luther_ adds an explication to his. _Eckius_
  • and _Prierius_ Dominicans, thereupon take the controversie against him:
  • and now _Luther_ begins to be hot; and because his adversaries could not
  • found the matter of Indulgences upon other Foundations then the _Popes_
  • power and infallibility, that begets a disputation betwixt them
  • concerning the Popes power, which _Luther_ insists upon as inferiour to
  • that of a _general Council_; and so by degrees he came on to oppose the
  • Popish Doctrine of _Remission of sins_, _Penances_, and _Purgatory_; and
  • by reason of Cardinal _Cajetans_ imprudent management of the conference
  • he had with him, it came to pass that he rejected the whole body of
  • Popish doctrine. So that by this we may see what was the accidental
  • occasion wherein, the slender means whereby, and the abject condition of
  • the person by whom, the work of Reformation of Religion was set on
  • foot.
  • _Sect. 3. Pag. 8._
  • _Yet I have not so shaken hands with those, desperate Resolutions,
  • (Resolvers it should be, without doubt) who had rather venture at large
  • their decayed Bottom, than bring her in to be new trimm'd in the Dock;
  • who had rather promiscuously retain all, than abridge any; and
  • obstinately be what they are, than what they have been; as to stand in a
  • diameter and at swords point with them: we have reformed from them, not
  • against them_, etc.] These words by Mr. _Merryweather_ are thus rendred,
  • _sc_. _Nec tamen in vecordem illum pertinacium hominum gregem memet
  • adjungo, qui lubefactatum navigium malunt fortunæ committere quam in
  • navale de integro resarciendum deducere, qui malunt omnia promiscuè
  • retinere quam quicquam inde diminuere, et pertinaciter esse qui sunt
  • quam qui olim fuerunt, ita ut iisdem ex diametro repugnent: ab illis,
  • non contra illos, reformationem instituimus_, etc. And the Latine
  • Annotator sits down very well satisfied with it, and hath bestowed some
  • notes upon it; but under the favour both of him and the Translator, this
  • Translation is so far different from the sense of the Author, that it
  • hath no sense in it; or if there be any construction of sense in it, it
  • is quite besides the Author's meaning; which will appear if we consider
  • the context: by that we shall find that the Author in giving an account
  • of his Religion, tells us first, that he is a Christian, and farther,
  • that he is of the reform'd Religion; but yet he saith, in this place, he
  • is not so rigid a Protestant, nor at defiance with Papists so far, but
  • that in many things he can comply with them, (the particulars he
  • afterwards mentions in this Section) for, saith he, we have reform'd
  • from them, not against them, that is, as the _Archbishop_ of
  • _Canterbury_ against the _Jesuit_ discourseth well. We have made no new
  • Religion nor Schism from the old; but in calling for the old, and
  • desiring that which was novel and crept in might be rejected, and the
  • Church of _Rome_ refusing it, we have reform'd from those upstart novel
  • Doctrines, but against none of the old: and other sense the place cannot
  • bear; therefore how the _Latine Annotator_ can apply it as though in
  • this place the Author intended to note the _Anabaptists_, I see not,
  • unless it were in respect of the expression _Vecordem pertinacium
  • hominum gregem_, which truly is a description well befitting them,
  • though not intended to them in this place: howsoever, I see not any
  • ground from hence to conclude the Author to be any whit inclining to the
  • _Bulk_ of Popery (but have great reason from many passages in this Book
  • to believe the contrary,) as he that prefix'd a Preface to the Parisian
  • Edition of this Book hath unwarrantably done.
  • But for the mistake of the Translator, it is very obvious from whence
  • that arose. I doubt not but it was from mistake of the sense of the
  • English Phrase _Shaken hands_, which he hath rendered by these words,
  • _Memet adjungo_, wherein he hath too much play'd the Scholar, and show'd
  • himself to be more skilful in forraign and antient customs, then in the
  • vernacular practise and usage of the language of his own Country; for
  • although amongst the Latines protension of the Hand were a Symbole and
  • sign of Peace and Concord (as _Alex. ab Alexandro_; _Manum verò
  • protendere, pacem peti significabunt_ (saith he) _Gen. Dier. lib. 4.
  • cap. ult._ which also is confirmed by _Cicero pro Dejotaro_; and _Cæsar.
  • l. 2. de Bellico Gallico_) and was used in their first meetings, as
  • appears by the Phrase, _Jungere hospitio Dextras_; and by that of
  • _Virgil_,
  • _Oremus pacem, et Dextras tendamus inermes_,
  • And many like passages that occur in the Poets, to which I believe the
  • Translator had respect; yet in modern practise, especially with us in
  • _England_, that ceremony is used as much in our _Adieu's_ as in the
  • _first Congress_; and so the Author meant in this place, by saying he
  • had not _shaken hands_; that is, that he had not so deserted, or bid
  • farewel to the _Romanists_, as to stand at swords point with them: and
  • then he gives his reasons at those words, _For omitting those
  • improperations_, etc. So that instead of _memet adjungo_, the Translator
  • should have used some word or Phrase of a clean contrary signification;
  • and instead of _ex diametro repugnent_, it should be _repugnem_.
  • _Sect. 5. Pag. 11._
  • _Henry_ the Eighth, who, though he rejected the Pope, refused not the
  • faith of _Rome_.] So much _Buchanan_ in his own life written by himself
  • testifieth, who speaking of his coming into _England_ about the latter
  • end of that King's time, saith, _Sed ibi tum omnia adeo erant incerta,
  • ut eodem die, ac eodem igne_ (very strange!) _utriusque factionis
  • homines cremarentur, Henrico 8, jam seniore suæ magnis securitati quam
  • Religionis puritati intento_. And for the confirmation of this assertion
  • of the Author, _vide Stat. 31. H. 8, cap. 14_.
  • _And was conceived the state of_ Venice _would have attempted in our
  • dayes._] This expectation was in the time of Pope _Paul_ the Fifth, who
  • by excommunicating that Republique, gave occasion to the Senate to
  • banish all such of the Clergy as would not by reason of the Popes
  • command administer the Sacraments; and upon that account the _Jesuits_
  • were cast out, and never since receiv'd into that State.
  • _Sect. 6. Pag. 12._
  • _Or be angry with his judgement for not agreeing with me in that, from
  • which perhaps within a few days I should dissent my self._] I cannot
  • think but in this expression the Author had respect to that of that
  • excellent French Writer _Monsieur Mountaign_ (in whom I often trace
  • him). _Combien diversement jugeons nous de choses? Combien de fois
  • changeons nous nos fantasies? Ce que je tien aujourdhuy, ce que je croy,
  • je le tien et le croy de toute ma Creance, mais ne m'est il pas advenu
  • non une fois mais cent, mais mille et tous les jours d'avoir embrasse
  • quelque autre chose?_ Mountaign lib. 2. _Des Essais._ Chap. 12.
  • _Every man is not a proper Champion for truth_, etc.] A good cause is
  • never betray'd more than when it is prosecuted with much eagerness, and
  • but little sufficiency; and therefore _Zuinglius_, though he were of
  • _Carolostadius_ his opinion in the point of the Sacrament of the
  • _Eucharist_ against _Luther_, yet he blamed him for undertaking the
  • defence of that cause against _Luther_, not judging him able enough for
  • the encounter: _Non satis habet humerorum_, saith he of _Carolostad_,
  • alluding to that of _Horace_, _Sumite materiam vestris qui scribitis
  • æquam Viribus, et versate diu quid ferre recusent Quid valeant
  • humeri_.----So _Minutius Fælix; Plerumq; pro disserentium viribus, et
  • eloquentiæ potestate, etiam perspicuæ veritatis conditio mutetur_.
  • Minut. in Octav. And _Lactantius_ saith, this truth is verified in
  • _Minutius_ himself: for _Him_, _Tertullian_ and _Cyprian_, he spares not
  • to blame (all of them) as if they had not with dexterity enough defended
  • the Christian cause against the _Ethniques_. _Lactant. de justitia_,
  • cap. 1. I could wish that those that succeeded him had not as much cause
  • of complaint against him: surely he is noted to have many errors _contra
  • fidem_.
  • _Pag. 13._
  • _In Philosophy----there is no man more Paradoxical then my self, but in
  • Divinity I love to keep the Road_, etc.] Appositely to the mind of the
  • Author, saith the Publisher of Mr. _Pembel's_ Book _de origine
  • formarum_, _Certe_ (saith he) _in locis Theologicis ne quid detrimenti
  • capiat vel Pax. vel Veritas Christi----à novarum opinionum pruritu
  • prorsus abstinendum puto, usq; adeo ut ad certam regulam etiam loqui
  • debeamus, quod pie et prudenter monet Augustinus_ (_de Civ. Dei._ 1. 10,
  • cap. 23.) [_ne verborum licentia impia vi gignat opinionem_,] _at in
  • pulvere Scholastico ubi in nullius verba, juramus, et in utramvis partem
  • sine dispendio vel pacis, vel salutis ire liceat, major conceditur cum
  • sentiendi tum loquendi libertas_, etc. Capel. _in Ep. Dedicat._
  • _Pembel_, _de origin form. præfix_.
  • _Heresies perish not with their Authors, but like the River_ Arethusa,
  • _though they lose their Currents in one place, they rise again in
  • another._] Who would not think that this expression were taken from Mr.
  • _Mountaigne_, _l. 2, des Ess. cap. 12_. Where he hath these words,
  • _Nature enserre dans les termes de son progress ordinaire comme toutes
  • autres choses aussi les creances les judgements et opinions des hommes
  • elles ont leur revolutions_; and that _Mountaigne_ took his from
  • _Tully_. _Non enim hominum interitu sententiæ quoque occidunt_, _Tull._
  • _de nat. deorum l. 1_, etc. Of the River _Arethusa_ thus _Seneca_.
  • _Videbis celebratissimum carminibus fontem Arethusam limpidissimi ac
  • perludicissimi ad imum stagni gelidissimas aquas profundentem, sive
  • illas primum nascentes invenit, sive flumen integrum subter tot maria,
  • et à confusione pejoris undæ servatum reddidit_. Senec. _de consolat. ad
  • Martiam_.
  • _Sect. 7. Pag. 14._
  • _Now the first of mine was that of the_ Arabians.] For this Heresie, the
  • Author here sheweth what it was; they are called _Arabians_ from the
  • place where it was fostered; and because the _Heresiarch_ was not known,
  • _Euseb._ St. _Aug._ and _Nicephorus_ do all write of it: the reason of
  • this Heresie was so specious, that it drew Pope _John 22_. to be of the
  • same perswasion. Where then was his infallibility? Why, _Bellarmine_
  • tells you he was nevertheless infallible for that: for, saith he, he
  • maintained this opinion when he might do it without peril of Heresie,
  • for that no definition of the Church whereby 'twas made Heresie, had
  • preceded when he held that opinion. _Bellar. l. 4_, de _Pontif. Roman.
  • cap. 4._ Now this definition was first made ('tis true) by Pope
  • _Benedict_ in the 14 Age: but then I would ask another question, that
  • is, If 'till that time there were nothing defined in the Church touching
  • the beatitude of Saints, what certainty was there touching the sanctity
  • of any man? and upon what ground were those canonizations of Saints had,
  • that were before the 14 Age?
  • _The second was that of_ Origen.] Besides St. _Augustine_, _Epiphanius_,
  • and also S. _Hierom_, do relate that _Origen_ held, that not only the
  • souls of men, but the _Devils_ themselves should be discharged from
  • torture after a certain time: but _Genebrard_ endeavours to clear him of
  • this. _Vid. Coquæum, in 21. lib. Aug. de. Civ. Dei. cap. 17._
  • _These opinions though condemned by lawful Councils, were not Heresie in
  • me_, etc.] For to make an Heretique, there must be not only _Error in
  • intellectu_ but _pertinacia in voluntate_. So St. _Aug. Qui sententiam
  • suam quamvis falsam atque perversam nulla pertinaci animositate
  • defendunt, quærunt autem cauta solicitudine veritatem, corrigi parati
  • cum invenerint, nequaquam sunt inter Hæreticos deputundi_. Aug. _cont.
  • Manich. 24, qu. 3._
  • _Sect. 9. Pag. 16._
  • _The deepest mysteries ours contains have not only been illustrated, but
  • maintained by Syllogism and the Rule of Reason_,] and since this Book
  • was written, by Mr. _White_ in his _Institutiones Sacræ_.
  • _And when they have seen the Red Sea, doubt not of the Miracle._] Those
  • that have seen it, have been better informed then Sir _Henry Blount_
  • was, for he tells us that he desired to view the passage of _Moses_ into
  • the Red Sea (not being above three days journey off) but the _Jews_ told
  • him the precise place was not known within less than the space of a days
  • journey along the shore; wherefore (saith he) I left that as too
  • uncertain for any Observation. _In his Voyage into the Levant._
  • _Sect. 10. Pag. 18._
  • I had as lieve you tell me that _Anima est Angelus hominis, est corpus
  • Dei_, as _Entelechia; Lux est umbra Dei_, as _actus perspicui._] Great
  • variety of opinion there hath been amongst the Ancient Philosophers
  • touching the definition of the Soul. _Thales_, his was, that it is a
  • _Nature without Repose_. _Asclepiades_, that it is _an Exercitation of
  • Sense_. _Hesiod_, that it is _a thing composed of Earth and Water_;
  • _Parmenides_ holds, _of Earth and Fire_; _Galen_ that it is _Heat_;
  • _Hippocrates_, that it is _a spirit diffused through the body_. Some
  • others have held it to be _Light_; _Plato_ saith, 'tis _a Substance
  • moving itself_; after cometh _Aristotle_ (whom the Author here
  • reproveth) and goeth a degree farther, and saith it is _Entelechia_,
  • that is, that which naturally makes the body to move. But this
  • definition is as rigid as any of the other; for this tells us not what
  • the _essence_, _origine_ or _nature_ of the _soul_ is, but only marks an
  • _effect_ of it, and therefore signifieth no more than if he had said (as
  • the Author's Phrase is) that it is _Angelus hominis_, or an
  • _Intelligence_ that moveth man, as he supposed those other to do the
  • Heavens.
  • Now to come to the definition of Light, in which the Author is also
  • unsatisfied with the School of _Aristotle_, he saith, It satisfieth him
  • no more to tell him that _Lux est actus perspicui_, than if you should
  • tell him that it is _umbra Dei_. The ground of this definition given by
  • the _Peripateticks_, is taken from a passage in _Aristot. de anima l. 2,
  • cap. 7_, where _Aristotle_ saith, That the colour of the thing seen,
  • doth move that which is _perspicuum actu_ (i.e. _illustratam naturam quæ
  • sit in aere aliove corpore trunsparente_) and that that, in regard of
  • its continuation to the eye, moveth the eye, and by its help the
  • internal _sensorium_; and that so vision is perform'd. Now as it is true
  • that the Sectators of _Aristotle_ are to blame, by fastening upon him by
  • occasion of this passage, that he meant that those things that made this
  • impress upon the Organs are meer accidents, and have nothing of
  • substance; which is more than ever he meant, and cannot be maintained
  • without violence to Reason, and his own Principles; so for _Aristotle_
  • himself, no man is beholding to him for any Science acquir'd by this
  • definition: for what is any man the near for his telling him that Colour
  • (admitting it to be a body, as indeed it is, and in that place he doth
  • not deny) doth move _actu perspicuum_, when as the perspicuity is in
  • relation to the _eye_; and he doth not say how it comes to be
  • perspicuous, which is the thing enquired after, but gives it that
  • donation before the eye hath perform'd its office; so that if he had
  • said it had been _umbra Dei_, it would have been as intelligible, as
  • what he hath said. He that would be satisfied how Vision is perform'd,
  • let him see Mr. _Hobbs_ in _Tract. de nat. human_, cap. 2.
  • _For God hath not caused it to rain upon the Earth._] St. _Aug. de
  • Genes. ad literam_, cap. 5, 6, salves that expression from any
  • inconvenience; but the Author in _Pseudodox. Epidemic._ l. 7, cap. 1,
  • shews that we have no reason to be confident that this Fruit was an
  • _Apple_.
  • _I believe that the_ Serpent (_if we shall literally understand it_)
  • _from his proper form and figure made his motion on his belly before the
  • curse_.] Yet the Author himself sheweth in _Pseudodox. Epidemic._ lib.
  • 7, cap. 1, that the form or kind of the _Serpent_ is not agreed on: yet
  • _Comestor_ affirm'd it was a _Dragon_, _Eugubinus_ a _Basilisk_,
  • _Delrio_ a _Viper_, and others a common _Snake_: but of what kind soever
  • it was, he sheweth in the same Volume, _lib. 5, c. 4_, that there was no
  • inconvenience, that the temptation should be perform'd in this proper
  • shape.
  • _I find the tryal of Pucelage and the Virginity of Women which God
  • ordained the_ Jews, _is very fallible._] _Locus extat, Deut. c. 22_, the
  • same is affirm'd by _Laurentius_ in his _Anatom._
  • _Whole Nations have escaped the curse of Child-birth, which God seems to
  • pronounce upon the whole sex._] This is attested by M. _Mountaigne_.
  • _Les doleurs de l'enfantiment par les medicins, et par Dieu mesme
  • estimees grandes, et que nous passons avec tant de Ceremonies, il y a
  • des nations entieres qui ne'n fuit nul conte. l. 1, des Ess. c. 14_.
  • _Sect 11. Pag. 19._
  • _Who can speak of_ Eternity _without a Solœcism, or think thereof
  • without an Extasie?_ Time _we may comprehend_, etc.] Touching the
  • difference betwixt _Eternity_ and _Time_, there have been great disputes
  • amongst Philosophers; some affirming it to be no more than _duration
  • perpetual consisting of parts_; and others (to which opinion, it appears
  • by what follows in this Section, the Author adheres) affirmed (to use
  • the Authors Phrase) that it hath no distinction of Tenses, but is
  • according to _Boetius_ (_lib. 5, consol. pros. 6_), his definition,
  • _interminabilis vitæ tota simul et perfecta possessio_. For me, _non
  • nostrum est tantas componere lites_. I shall only observe what each of
  • them hath to say against the other. Say those of the first opinion
  • against those that follow _Boetius_ his definition, That definition was
  • taken by _Boetius_ out of _Plato's Timæus_, and is otherwise applyed,
  • though not by _Boetius_, yet by those that follow him, than ever _Plato_
  • intended it; for he did not take it in the Abstract, but in the
  • Concrete, for an _eternal thing_, _a Divine substance_, by which he
  • meant _God_, or his _Anima mundi_: and this he did, to the intent to
  • establish this truth, That no mutation can befal the Divine Majesty, as
  • it doth to things subject to generation and corruption; and that _Plato_
  • there intended not to define or describe any _species_ of duration: and
  • they say that it is impossible to understand any such _species_ of
  • duration that is (according to the Authors expression) but one
  • _permanent point_.
  • Now that which those that follow _Boetius_ urge against the other
  • definition is, they say, it doth not at all difference _Eternity_ from
  • the nature of _Time_; for they say if it be composed of many _Nunc's_,
  • or many instants, by the addition of one more it is still encreased; and
  • by that means _Infinity_ or _Eternity_ is not included, nor ought more
  • than _Time_. For this, see Mr. _White_, _de dial. mundo, Dial. 3. Nod.
  • 4_.
  • _Indeed he only is_, etc.] This the Author infers from the words of God
  • to _Moses_, _I am that I am_; and this to distinguish him from all
  • others, who (he saith) have and shall be: but those that are learned in
  • the _Hebrew_, do affirm that the words in that place (_Exod. 3_) do not
  • signifie, _Ego sum qui sum, et qui est_, etc. but _Ero qui ero, et qui
  • erit_, etc. _vid Gassend. in animad. Epicur. Physiolog._
  • _Sect. 12. Pag. 20._
  • _I wonder how_ Aristotle _could conceive the World Eternal, or how he
  • could make two Eternities_:] (that is, that God, and the World both were
  • eternal.) I wonder more at either the ignorance or incogitancy of the
  • _Conimbricenses_, who in their Comment upon the eighth book of
  • _Aristotle's Physicks_, treating of the matter of Creation, when they
  • had first said that it was possible to know it, and that actually it was
  • known (for _Aristotle_ knew it) yet for all this they afterwards affirm,
  • That considering onely the light of Nature, there is nothing can be
  • brought to demonstrate Creation: and yet farther, when they had defined
  • Creation to be the production of a thing _ex nihilo_, and had proved
  • that the World was so created in time, and refused the arguments of the
  • Philosophers to the contrary, they added this, That the World might be
  • created _ab æterno_: for having propos'd this question [_Num aliquid à
  • Deo ex Æternitate procreari potuit?_] they defend the affirmative, and
  • assert that not onely incorporeal substances, as Angels; or permanent,
  • as the celestial Bodies; or corruptible as Men, etc. might be produced
  • and made _ab æterno_, and be conserved by an infinite time, _ex utraq_;
  • _parte_; and that this is neither repugnant to God the Creator, the
  • things created, nor to the nature of Creation: for proof whereof, they
  • bring instances of the _Sun_ which if it had been eternal, had
  • illuminated eternally, (and the virtue of God is not less than the
  • virtue of the Sun.) Another instance they bring of the _divine Word_,
  • which was produced _ab æterno_: in which discourse, and in the instances
  • brought to maintain it, it is hard to say whether the madness or impiety
  • be greater; and certainly if Christians thus argue, we have the more
  • reason to pardon the poor heathen _Aristotle_.
  • _There is in us not three, but a Trinity of Souls._] The
  • _Peripatetiques_ held that men had three distinct Souls; whom the
  • Heretiques, the _Anomæi_, and the _Jacobites_, followed. There arose a
  • great dispute about this matter in _Oxford_, in the year 1276, and it
  • was then determined against _Aristotle_, _Daneus Christ. Eth._ l. 1. c.
  • 4. and _Suarez_ in his Treatise _de causa formali, Quest. An dentur
  • plures formæ in uno composito_, affirmeth there was a Synod that did
  • _anathematize_ all that held with _Aristotle_ in this point.
  • _Sect. 14. Pag. 23._
  • _There is but one first, and four second causes in all things._] In that
  • he saith there is but one first cause, he speaketh in opposition to the
  • _Manichees_, who held there were _Duo principia_; one from whom came all
  • good, and the other from whom came all evil: the reason of _Protagoras_
  • did it seems impose upon their understandings; he was wont to say, _Si
  • Deus non est, unde igitur bona? Si autem est, unde mala?_ In that he
  • saith there are but four second Causes, he opposeth _Plato_, who to the
  • four causes, _material_, _efficient_, _formal_, and _final_, adds for a
  • fifth _exemplar_ or _Idæa_, sc. _Id ad quod respiciens artifex, id quod
  • destinabat efficit_; according to whose mind _Boetius_ speaks, _lib. 3.
  • met. 9. de cons. Philosoph_.
  • _O qui perpetua mundum ratione gubernas,
  • Terrarum Cœliq; sator qui tempus ab ævo
  • Ire jubes, stabilisq; manens das cuncta moveri:
  • Quem non externæ pepulerunt fingere causæ
  • Materiæ fluitantis opus, verum insita summi
  • Forma boni livore carens: tu cuncta superno
  • Ducis ab exemplo, pulchrum pulcherrimus ipse
  • Mundum mente gerens, similique in imagine formans,
  • Perfectasq; jubens perfectum absolvere partes._
  • And St. _Augustine l. 83. quest. 46_. where (amongst other) he hath
  • these words, _Restat ergo ut omnia Ratione sint condita, nec eadem
  • ratione homo qua equus; hoc enim absurdum est existimare: singula autem
  • propriis sunt creata rationibus_. But these _ideæ Plato's_ Scholar
  • _Aristotle_ would not allow to make or constitute a different sort of
  • cause from the _formal_ or _efficient_, to which purpose he disputes,
  • _l. 7. Metaphysic._ but he and his Sectators, and the _Ramists_ also,
  • agree (as the Author) that there are but the four remembred Causes: so
  • that the Author, in affirming there are but four, hath no Adversary but
  • the _Platonists_; but yet in asserting there are four (as his words
  • imply) there are that oppose him, and the _Schools_ of _Aristot._ and
  • _Ramus_. I shall bring for instance Mr. _Nat Carpenter_, who in his
  • _Philosophia Libera_ affirmeth, there is no such cause as that which
  • they call the _Final cause_: he argueth thus; Every cause hath an
  • influence upon its effect: but so has not the End, therefore it is not a
  • Cause. The _major_ proposition (he saith) is evident, because the
  • influence of a cause upon its effect, is either the causality it self,
  • or something that is necessarily conjoyned to it: and the _minor_ as
  • plain, for either the End hath an influence upon the effect immediately,
  • or mediately, by stirring up the Efficient to operate; not immediately,
  • because so it should enter either the _constitution_ or _production_, or
  • _conservation_ of the things; but the constitution it cannot enter,
  • because the constitution is only of _matter_ and _form_; nor the
  • Production, for so it should concur to the production, either as it is
  • _simply the end_, or as _an exciter of the Efficient_; but not simply as
  • the end, because the end _as end_ doth not go before, but followeth the
  • thing produced, and therefore doth not concur to its production: if they
  • say it doth so far concur, as it is desired of the agent or efficient
  • cause, it should not so have an immediate influence upon the effect, but
  • should onely first move the efficient. Lastly, saith he, it doth not
  • enter the conservation of a thing, because a thing is often conserved,
  • when it is frustrate of its due end, as when it's converted to a new use
  • and end. Divers other Arguments he hath to prove there is no such cause
  • as the final cause. _Nat. Carpenter Philosoph. liber Decad. 3.
  • Exercitat. 5_. But for all this, the Author and he differ not in
  • substance: for 'tis not the Author's intention to assert that the end is
  • in nature præexistent to the effect, but only that whatsoever God has
  • made, he hath made to some end or other; which he doth to oppose the
  • Sectators of _Epicurus_, who maintain the contrary, as is to be seen by
  • this of _Lucretius_ which follows.
  • _Illud in his rebus vitium vehementer et istum,
  • Effugere errorem vitareque premeditabor
  • Lumina ne facias oculorum clara creata
  • Prospicere ut possimus; et, ut proferre viai
  • Proceros passus, ideo fastigia posse
  • Surarum ac feminum pedibus fundata plicari:
  • Brachia tum porro validis ex apta lacertis
  • Esse, manusq; datas utraq; ex parte ministras,
  • Vt facere ad vitam possimus, quæ foret usus:
  • Cætera de genere hoc, inter quæcunq; precantur
  • Omnia perversa præpostera sunt ratione:
  • Nil ideo quoniam natum'st in corpore, ut uti
  • Possemus; sed quod natum'st, id procreat usum,
  • Nec fuit ante videre oculorum lumina nata,
  • Nec dictis orare prius, quam lingua creata'st,
  • Sed potius longe linguæ præcessit origo
  • Sermonem; multoq: creatæ sunt prius aures
  • Quam sonus est auditus, et omnia deniq; membra
  • Ante fuere, ut opinor, eorum quam foret usus:
  • Haud igitur potuere utendi crescere causa._
  • Lucret. lib. 4. [822-841.]
  • _Sect. 15. Pag. 24._
  • _There are no Grotesques in nature_, etc.] So _Monsr. Montaign_, _Il
  • n'ya rien d'inutil en nature, non pas l'inutilité mesmes, Rien ne s'est
  • ingeré en cet Univers qui n'y tienne place opportun._ Ess. l. 3. c. 1.
  • _Who admires not_ Regio-montanus _his Fly beyond his Eagle?_] Of these
  • _Du Bartas_.
  • _Que diray je de l'aigle,
  • D'ont un doct Aleman honore nostre siecle
  • Aigle qui deslogeant de la maistresse main,
  • Aila loin au devant d'un Empereur Germain;
  • Et l'ayant recontré suddain d'une aisle accorte,
  • Se tournant le suit au seuil de la porte
  • Du fort Norembergois, que lis piliers dorez,
  • Les tapissez chemins, les arcs elabourez,
  • Les fourdroyans Canons, in la jeusnesse isnelle,
  • In le chena Senat, n'honnoroit tant come elle.
  • Vn jour, que cetominer plus des esbats, que de mets,
  • En privé fasteyoit ses seignieurs plus amees,
  • Vne mousche de fer, dans sa main recelee,
  • Prit sans ayde d'autroy, sa gallard evolee:
  • Fit une entiere Ronde, et puis d'un cerveau las
  • Come ayant jugement, se purcha sur son bras_.
  • Thus Englished by _Silvester_.
  • _Why should not I that wooden Eagle mention?
  • (A learned_ German's _late admir'd invention)
  • Which mounting from his Fist that framed her,
  • Flew far to meet an_ Almain _Emperour:
  • And having met him, with her nimble Train,
  • And weary Wings turning about again,
  • Followed him close unto the Castle Gate
  • Of _Noremberg_; whom all the shews of state,
  • Streets hang'd with Arras, arches curious built,
  • Loud thundring Canons, Columns richly guilt,
  • Grey-headed Senate, and youth's gallantise,
  • Grac'd not so much as onely this device.
  • Once as this Artist more with mirth than meat,
  • Feasted some friends that he esteemed great;
  • From under's hand an Iron Fly flew out,
  • Which having flown a perfect round about,
  • With weary wings, return'd unto her Master,
  • And (as judicious) on his arm she plac'd her._
  • _Or wonder not more at the operation of two souls in those little
  • bodies, than but one in the Trunk of a Cedar?_] That is, the
  • _vegetative_, which according to the common opinion, is supposed to be
  • in _Trees_, though the _Epicures_ and _Stoiques_ would not allow any
  • Soul in Plants; but _Empedocles_ and _Plato_ allowed them not only a
  • _vegetative_ Soul, but affirm'd them to be _Animals_. The _Manichees_
  • went farther, and attributed so much of the rational Soul to them, that
  • they accounted it _Homicide_ to gather either the flowers or fruit, as
  • St. _Aug._ reports.
  • _We carry with us the wonders we seek without us._] So St. _Aug._ l. 10.
  • de civ. c. 3. _Omni miraculo quod fit per hominem majus miraculum est
  • homo._
  • _Sect. 16. Pag. 25._
  • _Another of his servant Nature, that publique and universal Manuscript
  • that lies expansed_, etc.] So is the description of _Du Bartas 7. jour
  • de la sepm._
  • _Oyes ce Docteur muet estudie en ce livre
  • Qui nuict et jour ouvert t'apprendra de bien vivre._
  • _All things are artificial, for Nature is the Art of God._] So Mr.
  • _Hobbes_ in his _Leviathan_ (_in initio_) Nature is the Art whereby God
  • governs the world.
  • _Sect. 17. Pag. 27._
  • _Directing the operations of single and individual Essences_, etc.]
  • Things singular or individuals, are in the opinion of Philosophers not
  • to be known, but by the way of sense, or by that which knows by its
  • Essence, and that is onely God. The Devils have no such knowledge,
  • because whatsoever knows so, is either the cause or effect of the thing
  • known; whereupon _Averroes_ concluded that God was the cause of all
  • things, because he understands all things by his Essence; and _Albertus
  • Magnus_ concluded, That the inferiour intelligence understands the
  • superiour, because it is an effect of the superiour: but neither of
  • these can be said of the _Devil_; for it appears he is not the effect of
  • any of these inferiour things, much less is he the cause, for the power
  • of Creation onely belongs to God.
  • _All cannot be happy at once, because the Glory of one State depends
  • upon the ruine of another._] This Theme is ingeniously handled by Mr.
  • _Montaigne livr. 1. des Ess._ cap. 22. the title whereof is, _Le
  • profit de l'un est dommage de l'autre_.
  • _Sect. 18. Pag. 29._
  • _'Tis the common fate of men of singular gifts of mind, to be destitute
  • of those of Fortune._] So _Petron. Arbiter. Amor ingenii neminem
  • unquum divitem fecit_, in _Satyric_. And _Apuleius_ in Apolog. _Idem
  • mihi etiam_ (saith he) _paupertatem opprobravit acceptum Philosopho
  • crimen et ultro profitendum_; and then a little afterwards, he sheweth
  • that it was the common fate of those that had singular gifts of mind:
  • _Eadem enim est paupertas apud Græcos in Aristide justa, in Phocyone
  • benigna, in Epaminonde strenua, in Socrate sapiens, in Homero diserta._
  • _We need not labour with so many arguments to confute judicial_
  • Astrology.] There is nothing in judicial _Astrology_ that may render it
  • impious; but the exception against it is, that it is vain and fallible;
  • of which any man will be convinced, that has read _Tully de Divinat._
  • and St. _Aug._ book 5. _de Civ. dei_.
  • _Sect. 19. Pag. 31._
  • _There is in our soul a kind of Triumvirate----that distracts the peace
  • of our Commonwealth, not less than did that other the State of_ Rome.]
  • There were two _Triumvirates_, by which the peace of _Rome_ was
  • distracted; that of _Crassus_, _Cæsar_ and _Pompey_, of which _Lucan_,
  • _l._ 1.
  • _----Tu causam aliorum----
  • Facta tribus Dominis communis Roma, nec unquam
  • In turbam missi feralia fœdera Regni._
  • And that other of _Augustus_, _Antonius_ and _Lepidus_, by whom, saith
  • _Florus_, _Respublica convulsa est lacerataque_, which comes somewhat
  • near the Author's words, and therefore I take it that he means this last
  • Triumvirate.
  • _Sect. 19. Pag. 32._
  • _Would disswade my belief from the miracle of the brazen Serpent._] Vid.
  • _Coqueum in_, _l. 10._ _Aug._ _de Civ. Dei_, c. 8.
  • _And bid me mistrust a miracle in_ Elias, etc.] The History is 18. 1
  • _Reg._ It should be _Elijah_. The Author in _15. cap. lib. 7.
  • Pseudodox._ sheweth it was not perform'd naturally; he was (as he saith)
  • a perfect miracle.
  • _To think the combustion of_ Sodom _might be natural_.] Of that opinion
  • was _Strabo_, whereupon he is reprehended by _Genebrard_ in these words:
  • _Strabo falsus est----dum eversionem addicit sulphuri et bitumini e
  • terra erumpentibus, quæ erat assignanda Cœlo_, i.e. _Deo irato_.
  • _Tacitus_ reports it according to the Bible, _fulminis ictu arsisse_.
  • _Sect. 20. Pag. 33._
  • _Those that held Religion was the difference of man from Beasts_, etc.]
  • _Lactantius_ was one of those: _Religioni ergo serviendum est, quam qui
  • non suspicit, ipse se prosternit in terram, et vitam pecudum secutus
  • humanitate se abdicat._ Lactant _de fals. Sapientia_, cap. 10.
  • _The Doctrine of_ Epicurus _that denied the providence of God, was no
  • Atheism, but_, etc.] I doubt not but he means that delivered in his
  • Epistle to _Menæceus_, and recorded by _Diogenes Laertius_, lib. 10.
  • _Quod beatum æternumque est, id nec habet ipsum negotii quicquam, nec
  • exhibit alteri, itaque neque ira, neque gratia tenetur, quod quæ talia
  • sunt imbecillia sunt omnia_; which the _Epicurean_ Poet hath delivered
  • almost in the same words.
  • _Omnis enim per se divum natura necesse 'st
  • Immortali ævo summa cum pace fruatur,
  • Semota à nostris rebus sejunctaq; longè:
  • Nam privata dolore omni, privata periclis
  • Ipsa suis pollens opibus nihil indiga nostri
  • Nec bene pro meritis capitur, nec tangitur ira._
  • Lucret. _lib. 2._
  • _That Villaine and Secretary of Hell, that composed that miscreant piece
  • of the three Impostors._] It was _Ochinus_ that composed this piece; but
  • there was no less a man than the Emperour _Frederick_ the Second, that
  • was as lavish of his tongue as the other of his pen; _Cui sæpe in ore,
  • Tres fuisse insignes Impostores, qui genus humanum seduxerunt: Moysem,
  • Christum, Mahumetem. Lips. monit. et exempl. Politic._ cap. 4. And a
  • greater than he, Pope _Leo_ the Tenth, was as little favourable to our
  • Saviour, when he us'd that speech which is reported of him, _Quantas
  • nobis divitias comparavit ista de Christo fabula_.
  • _Sect. 21. Pag. 34._
  • _There are in Scripture, stories that do exceed the fables of Poets._]
  • So the Author of _Relig. Laici. Certè mira admodum in_ S. S. _plus quam
  • in reliquis omnibus Historiis traduntur_; (and then he concludes with
  • the Author) _sed quæ non retundunt intellectum, sed exercent_.
  • _Yet raise no question who shall rise with that_ Rib _at the
  • Resurrection_.] The Author _cap. 2 l. 7_. _Pseudodox_. sheweth that it
  • appeares in Anatomy, that the Ribs of Man and Woman are equal.
  • _Whether the world were created in Autumn, Summer, or the Spring_, etc.]
  • In this matter there is a consent between two learned Poets, _Lucretius_
  • and _Virgil_, that it begins in _Spring_.
  • _At novitas mundi nec frigora dura ciebat,
  • Nec nimios æstus, nec magnis viribus auras._
  • Lucretius.
  • Which he would have to be understood of _Autumn_, because that resembles
  • old age rather than Infancy. He speaks expresly of the Fowls.
  • _Principio genus alituum variæq; volucres
  • Ova relinquebant exclusæ tempore verno._
  • Lucret.
  • Then for _Virgil_.
  • _Non alios prima nascentis origine mundi
  • Illuxisse dies aliumve habuisse tenorem
  • Crediderim, ver illud erat, ver magnus agebat
  • Orbis, et hibernis parcebant flatibus Euri._
  • Virgil 2. Georgic.
  • But there is a great difference about it betwixt Church-Doctors; some
  • agreeing with these Poets and others affirming the time to be in Autumn:
  • but truly, in strict speaking, it was not created in any one, but all of
  • the seasons, as the Author saith here, and hath shewed at large.
  • _Pseudodox. Epidemic._ lib. 6. cap. 2.
  • _Sect. 22. Pag. 35._
  • _'Tis ridiculous to put off or down the general floud of_ Noah _in that
  • particular inundation of_ Deucalion,] as the Heathens some of them
  • sometimes did: _Confuderunt igitur sæpe Ethnici particularia illa
  • diluvia, quæ longe post secuta sunt, cum illo universali quod præcessit,
  • ut ex fabulis in Diluvio Deucalionæo sparsis colligere licet; non tamen
  • semper nec ubique. Author. Observat. in Mytholog. Nat. Com._ Then
  • amongst those that confound them, he reckons _Ovid_ and _Plutarch_.
  • _How all the kinds of Creatures, not onely in their own bulks, but with
  • a competency of food and sustenance, might be preserved in one Ark, and
  • within the extent of 300 Cubits, to a reason that rightly examines it
  • will appear very feasible._] Yet _Apelles_ the Disciple of _Mercion_,
  • took upon him to deride the History of _Moses_ in this particular,
  • alledging that it must needs be a fable, for that it was impossible so
  • many creatures should be contain'd in so small a space. _Origen_ and St.
  • _Aug._ to answer this pretended difficulty, alleadge that _Moses_ in
  • this place speakes of Geometrical (and not vulgar) cubits, of which
  • every one was as much as six vulgar ones; and so no difficulty. But
  • _Perer. l. 10. com. in Genes, quest. 5. de arca_, rejects this opinion
  • of _Origen_, as being both against reason and Scripture.
  • 1. Because that sort of Cubit was never in use amongst any people, and
  • therefore absurd to think _Moses_ should intend it in this place.
  • 2. If _Moses_ should not speak of the same Cubits here, that he mentions
  • in others places, there would be great æquivocation in Scripture: now in
  • another place, _i.e._ _Exod. 27._ he saith, God commanded him to make an
  • Altar three Cubits high; which if it shall be meant of Geometrical
  • Cubits it will contain 18 vulgar Cubits; which would not only render it
  • useless, but would be contrary to the command which he saith God gave
  • him, _Exod. 20. Thou shall not go up by steps to my Altar._ For
  • without steps what man could reach it. It must therefore be meant of
  • ordinary Cubits; but that being so it was very feasible. I can more
  • easily believe than understand it.
  • _And put the honest Father to the Refuge of a Miracle._] This honest
  • father was St. _Aug._ who delivers his opinion, that it might be
  • miraculously done, _lib. 16. de Civ. Dei, cap. 7._ where having propos'd
  • the question how it might be done, he answers, _Quod si homines eas
  • captas secum adduxerunt, et eo modo ubi habitabant earum genera
  • instituerunt, venandi studio fieri potuisse incredibile non est, quamvis
  • jussu Dei sire permissu etiam opera Angelorum negandum non sit potuisse
  • transferri_; but St. _Aug._ saith not that it could not be done without
  • a miracle.
  • _And 1500 years to people the World, as full a time_, etc.]
  • _Pag. 36._
  • _That_ Methusalem _was the longest liv'd of all the children of_ Adam,
  • etc.] See both these Points cleared by the Author, in _Pseudodox.
  • Epidemic._ the first _lib. 6. cap. 6._ the other _lib. 7. cap. 3._
  • _That_ Judas _perished by hanging himself, there is no certainty in
  • Scripture, though in one place it seems to affirm it, and by a doubtful
  • word hath given occasion to translate it; yet in another place, in a
  • more punctual description it makes it improbable, and seems to overthrow
  • it_.] These two places that seem to contradict one another are _Math.
  • 27. 5._ and _Acts 1. 8._ The doubtful word he speaks of is in the place
  • of _Matthew_; it is ἀπήγξατο, which signifieth suffocation as well as
  • hanging, (ἀπελθὼν ἀπήγξατο, which may signifie literally, after he went
  • out he was choak'd) but _Erasmus_ translates it, _abiens laqueo se
  • suspendit_: the words in the _Acts_ are, _When he had thrown down
  • himself headlong, he burst in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out_;
  • which seems to differ much from the expression of _Matthew_; yet the
  • Ancient Writers and Fathers of the Church do unanimously agree that he
  • was hanged. Some I shall cite. _Anastas. Sinaita, l. 7. Anagog.
  • Contempl. Unus latro ingratus cum esset typus Diaboli, et Serpentis,
  • et Judæ, qui se in ligno suffocavit. Gaudentius Brixiens. tract. 13.
  • de natal. Dom. Mortem debitam laqueo sibimet intulit præparato_, etc.
  • _Droggotoshen. de sacram. dominic. pass. Jamdiu erat quidem quod
  • Christo recesserat, et avaritiæ laqueo se suspenderat, sed quod fecerat
  • in occulto, palam omnibus innotuit. S. Martialis in Ep. ad Tholosanos.
  • Non sustinuit pœnitentiam, donec laqueo mortis seipsum consumpsit.
  • Ignat. ad Philippens. Diabolus laqueum ei ostendit, et suspendium
  • docuit. Leo Serm. 3. de passion.----Ut quia facinus omnem mensuram
  • ultionis excesserat, te haberet impietas tua judicem te pateretur sua
  • pæna Carnificem. Theodoret. lib. 1. hæretic. fabul. Ille protinus
  • strangulatus est, quæ fuit merces ejus proditionis. Chrysostom. Hom. 3.
  • de proditore. Pependit Cœlum Terramque intermedius vago funere
  • suffocatus, et cum flagitio suo tumefacta, viscera crepuerunt, etc.
  • Bernard. Serm. 8. in Psal. 9. Judas in Aere crepuit medius._
  • 1. There are those that are so particular, that they acquaint us with
  • the manner, as _that it was done with a Cord. Antiochus Laurensis, Spem
  • omnem a se cum abjecisset, insiliente in eum inimico (sc. Diabolo)
  • funiculo sibi præfocavit gulam. Oecumen. in Act. Fracto funiculo quo
  • erat suffocatus decidit in terram præcipitio._ 2. _That it was done on
  • a_ Fig-Tree, _Beda. Portam David egredientibus fons occurrit in Austrum
  • per vallem directus, ad cujus medietatem ab occasu Judas se suspendisse
  • narratur: Nam et ficus magna ibi et vetustissima stat._
  • Juvenc. _lib. 4. Hist. Evangelic_.
  • _Exorsusq; suas laqueo sibi sumere pænas,
  • Informem rapuit ficus de vertice mortem._
  • 3. Some acquaint us with the time when it was done, _viz. the next day
  • after he had given the kiss_. So _Chrysostom. Homil. 1. de proditor. et
  • Mysterio Cœn. Dominic. Guttur prophanum quod hodie Christo extendis
  • ad osculum, crastino es illud extensurus ad laqueum_. But there are two,
  • that is _Euthymius_ and _Oecumenius_, that tell us, _that the hanging
  • did not kill him_, but that either the Rope broke, or that he was cut
  • down, and afterwards cast himself down headlong, as it is related in the
  • before mentioned place of the _Acts_: _Agnitus à quibusdam depositus est
  • ne præfocaretur, denique postquam in secreto quodam loco modico vixisset
  • tempore præceps factus sive præcipitatus, inflatus diruptus, ac diffisus
  • est medius, et effusa sunt omnia viscera ejus; ut in_ Actis. _Euthym._
  • cap. 67. _in Math. Judas suspendio è vita non decessit, sed supervixit,
  • dejectus est enim prius quam præfocaretur, idque Apotolorum Acta
  • indicant, quod pronus crepuit medius_. Oecumen. in Act. And this may
  • serve to reconcile these two seemingly disagreeing Scriptures.
  • _Pag. 37._
  • _That our Fathers after the Flood erected the Tower of_ Babel.] For this
  • see what the Author saith in his _Pseudodox. Epidemic_. l. 7, cap. 6.
  • _And cannot but commend the judgment of_ Ptolemy.] He means of
  • _Ptolemæus Philadelphus_, who founded the Library of _Alexandria_, which
  • he speaks of in the next Section. He was King of _Egypt_; and having
  • built and furnish'd that Library with all the choicest Books he could
  • get from any part of the world, and having good correspondence with
  • _Eleazer_ the high Priest of the _Jews_, by reason that he had released
  • the _Jews_ from Captivity, who were taken by his Predecessor _Ptolemæus
  • Lagi_; he did by the advice of _Demetrius Phalereus_ the _Athenian_,
  • whom he had made his Library-Keeper, write to _Eleazer_, desiring him
  • that he would cause the Books of the _Jews_, which contained their Laws,
  • to be translated for him into Greek, that he might have them to put into
  • his Library: to which the Priest consents; and for the King's better
  • satisfaction, sends to him Copies of the Books, and with the same 72
  • Interpreters skilled both in the Greek and Hebrew Language, to translate
  • them for him into Greek; which afterwards they performed. This is for
  • certain; but whether they translated only the _Pentateuch_, as St.
  • _Jerome_ would have it, or together with the Books of the Prophets also,
  • as _Leo de Castro_ and _Baronius_ contend, I undertake not to determine:
  • but as to that part of the story, that these Interpreters were put into
  • so many several Cells, whilst they were about the work of translation;
  • and notwithstanding they were thus severed, that they all translated it
  • _totidem verbis_; it is but reason to think with St. _Jerome_
  • (notwithstanding the great current of Authority against him) that it is
  • no better than a fable.
  • _The Alcoran of the Turks_ (_I speak without prejudice_) _is an
  • ill-composed piece, containing in it vain and ridiculous errors in
  • Philosophy_, etc.] It is now in every mans hand, having been lately
  • translated into English; I shall therefore observe but these few
  • particulars in it, in regard the book it self is so common; and indeed
  • they are not mine own, but _Lipsius_ his observations. He begins, _O
  • nugas, O deliria! primum_ (saith he) _commentus est, Deum unum solidumq;
  • (ὀλόσφυρον Græci exprimunt) eundemq; incorporeum esse. Christum non
  • Deum, sed magnum vatem et prophetam; se tamen majorem, et proxime à Deo
  • missum, præmia qui ipsum audient Paradisum, qui post aliquot annorum
  • millia reserabitur, ibi quatuor flumina lacte, vino, melle, aqua fluere,
  • ibi palatia et ædificia gemmata atque aurata esse, carnes avium
  • suavissimarum, fructus omne genus quos sparsi jacentesque sub umbra
  • arborum edent: sed caput fælicitatis, viros fœminasque, majores
  • solito magnis Genitalibus assidua libidine, et ejus usu sine tædio aut
  • fatigatione._ These and some others that are in the Alcoran he reckons
  • up. _Sed et Physica quoq; miranda_ (saith he) _nam facit Solem et Lunam
  • in equis vehi, illum autem in aquam calidam vespere mergi, et bene lotum
  • ascendere atque oriri, Stellas in aere è catenis aureis pendere: terram
  • in bovini cornus cuspide stabilitum, et agitante se bove ac succutiente
  • fieri terræ motum; hominem autem ex hirundine aut sanguisuga nasci_,
  • etc. Just. Lips. _Monit. et exempl. Politic._ cap. 3.
  • _Sect. 23. Pag. 38._
  • _I believe besides_ Zoroaster _there were divers others that wrote
  • before Moses_.] _Zoroaster_ was long before _Moses_, and of great name; he
  • was the father of _Ninus, Justin. lib. 1_. _Si quamlibet modicum
  • emolumentum probaveritis; ego ille sim Carinondas vel Damigeron, vel is
  • Moses, vel Joannes, vel Apollonius, vel ipse Dardanus, vel quicunq;
  • alius_ post Zoroastrem _et Hostanem, inter Magos celebratus est_.
  • Apuleius _in_ Apol.
  • _Sect. 24. Pag. 38._
  • _Others with as many groans deplore the combustion of the Library at_
  • Alexandria.] This was that Library before spoken of, set up by
  • _Ptolemæus Philadelphus_; in which 'tis reported by _Ammianus
  • Marcellinus_ there were 700,000 volumes; it was burnt by _Jul. Cæsar's_
  • means, whose Navy being environed before _Alexandria_, he had no means
  • to keep off the Enemy, but by flinging of fire, which at length caught
  • the Library and consumed it, as _Plutarch_ hath it in _Vita Cæsaris_:
  • but notwithstanding we have no reason to believe it was quite consumed,
  • because _Sueton_. in _Claudius_, tells us, that that Emperour added
  • another to it; and there must be somewhat before, if it were an
  • addition; but true it is, too many of the Books perished; to repair
  • which loss, care was taken by _Domitian_ the Emperour, as the same
  • _Sueton._ and _Aurel. Victor._ do relate.
  • _I would not omit a Copy of_ Enoch's _Pillars, had they many nearer
  • Authors than_ Josephus, _etc._] For this the Story is, that _Enoch_, or
  • his father, _Seth_, having been inform'd by _Adam_, that the world was
  • to perish once by water, and a second time by fire, did cause two
  • Pillars to be erected, the one of Stone against the water, and another
  • of Brick against the fire; and that upon those Pillars was engraven all
  • such Learning as had been delivered to, or invented by mankind; and that
  • thence it came that all knowledge and learning was not lost by means of
  • the Floud, by reason that one of the Pillars (though the other perished)
  • did remain after the Floud, and _Josephus_ witnesseth, till his time,
  • _lib. 1. Antiq. Judaic_. cap. 3.
  • _Of those three great inventions of_ Germany, _there are two which are
  • not without their incommodities._] Those two he means are _Printing_ and
  • _Gunpowder_, which are commonly taken to be _German_ Inventions; but
  • Artillery was in _China_ above 1500 years since, and Printing long
  • before it was in _Germany_, if we may believe _Juan Concales Mendosa_ in
  • his _Hist._ of _China, lib. 3. cap. 15, 16_. The incommodities of these
  • two inventions, are, well described by _Sam. Daniel_, lib. 6. of the
  • Civil Wars.
  • _Fierce_ Nemesis, _mother of fate and change,
  • Sword-bearer of th' eternal providence,
  • Turns her stern look at last into the West,
  • As griev'd to see on Earth such happy rest;_
  • _And for_ Pandora _calleth presently_,
  • Pandora Jove's _fair gift that first deceived
  • Poor_ Epimetheus _in his imbecility.
  • That though he had a wondrous boon received,
  • By means whereof curious mortality
  • Was of all former quiet quite bereaved.
  • To whom being come deckt with all qualities,
  • The wrathful goddess breaks out in this wise:_
  • _Dost thou not see in what secure estate,
  • Those flourishing fair Western parts remain?
  • As if they had made covenant with fate,
  • To be exempted free from others pain,
  • At one with their desires, friends with debate,
  • In peace with Pride, content with their own gain.
  • Their bounds contain their mindes, their mindes applyed
  • To have their bonds with plenty beautified._
  • _Devotion (Mother of Obedience)
  • Bears such a hand on their credulity,
  • That it abates the spirit of eminence,
  • And busies them with humble piety:
  • For see what works, what infinite expence,
  • What Monuments of zeal they edifie,
  • As if they would, so that no stop were found,
  • Fill all with Temples, make all holy ground._
  • _But we must cool this all-believing zeal,
  • That hath enjoy'd so fair a turn so long_, etc.
  • _Dislike of this first by degrees shall steal,
  • As upon souls of men perswaded wrong;
  • And that the sacred power which thus hath wrought,
  • Shall give her self the sword to cut her throat._
  • _Go therefore thou with all thy stirring train
  • Of swelling Sciences (the gifts of grief)
  • Go loose the links of that soul-binding chain,
  • Enlarge this uninquisitive Belief:
  • Call up mens spirits, that simpleness retain,
  • Enter their hearts, and knowledge make the Thief
  • To open all the Doors to let in Light,
  • That all may all things see but what is right._
  • _Opinion arm against opinion (grown)
  • Make new-born contradictions still arise,
  • As if Thebes Founder_ (Cadmus) _tongues had sown
  • Indent of teeth, for greater mutinies:
  • Bring new defended faith against faith known,
  • Weary the soul with contrarieties,
  • Till all Religion become Retrograde,
  • And that fair lye the mask of sin be made:_
  • _And better to effect a speedy end,
  • Let there be found two fatal Instruments,
  • The one to publish, th' other to defend [SN: Printing]
  • Impious contention, and proud discontents:
  • Make that instamped characters may send
  • Abroad to thousands, thousand mens intents;
  • And in a moment may dispatch much more,
  • Than could a world of pens perform before;_
  • _Whereby all quarrels, titles, secrecies,
  • May unto all be presently made known,
  • Factions prepar'd, parties allur'd to rise,
  • Seditions under fair pretences sown;
  • Whereby the vulgar may become so wise
  • That with a self-presumption overgrown,
  • They may of deepest mysteries debate,
  • Controul their betters, censure acts of State._
  • _And then when this dispersed mischief shall
  • Have brought confusion in each mystery,
  • Call'd up contempts of State in general,
  • And ripen'd the humour of impiety,
  • Then take the other engine wherewithal [SN: Guns]
  • They may torment their self-wrought misery;
  • And scourge each other in so strange a wise,
  • As time or tyrants never could devise_, etc.
  • See _Bellermontan._ in his _Dissertat. politic.
  • dissert._ 29. and 30.
  • For the other Invention, the Latine Annotator doubts whether the Author
  • means Church-Organs, or Clocks? I suppose he means Clocks, because I
  • find that Invention reckon'd by a _German_, with the other two, as a
  • remarkable one. It is by _Busbequius_, speaking of the Turks, who hath
  • these words: _Testes majores minoresque bombardæ, multaque alia quæ ex
  • nostris excogitata ipsi ad se avertunt; at libros tamen typis
  • excuderent, horologia in publico haberent, nondum adduci potuerunt._
  • _Epist. Legat. Turcic._ I suppose if he had known any Invention which
  • next to the other two had been greater than this, he would not have
  • named this, and this being the next considerable, we have no cause to
  • doubt but the Author meant it.
  • _To maintain the Trade and Mystery of Typographers._] Of this _Cunæus_
  • in his _Satyre Sardi vœnates_. _Qui bis in anno nomen suum ad
  • Germanorum nundinas non transmittit, eruditionem suam in ordinem coactam
  • credit, itaq; nunquam tot fungi una pluvia nascuntur, quot nunc libri
  • uno die_.
  • _Sect. 25. Pag. 40._
  • _The Turk in the bulk that he now stands, is beyond all hope of
  • conversion._] That is, in respect of his great strength, against which
  • it is not probable the Christians will prevail, as it is observed by
  • _Monsieur de Silhon_. _La Race des Ottomans_ (saith he) _quæ oste a Dieu
  • la Religion qu'il a revelee, et aux hommes la liberte que le droit des
  • Gens leur laisse a fait tant de progres depuis trois Cens et quelques
  • annees qu'il semble qu'elle n'ait plus rien a craindre de dehorse, et
  • que son empire ne puisse perir que par la corruption de dedans, et par
  • la dissolution des parties qui composent un corps si vaste. Mr. de
  • Silhon en son Minist. D'Estat. l. 1. c._
  • _None can more justly boast of persecutions, and glory in the number and
  • valour of martyrs._] Of the fortitude of the Christians in this
  • particular, _Minutius Felix_, in the person of the Ethnique, hath these
  • words, _Per mira stultitia et incredibili audacia spernunt tormenta
  • præsentia, dum incerta metuunt et futura; et dum mori post mortem
  • timent, interim mori non timent._ And afterwards, when he speaks in the
  • person of the Christian, he saith, that Christian women and children
  • have in this surpassed _Scævola_ and _Regulus_: _Viros_ (saith he) _cum
  • Mutio vel cum Atilio Regulo comparo: pueri et mulierculæ nostræ cruces
  • et Tormenta, feros et omnes suppliciorum terriculas inspirata patientia
  • doloris illudunt_. Minut. _in_ Octav. _vide Aug. de Civit. Dei, lib. 1.
  • c. 23, 24_.
  • _If we shall strictly examine the circumstances and requisites which_
  • Aristotle _requires to true and perfect valour, we shall find the name
  • onely in his Master_ Alexander, (_that is, no more than the name) and as
  • little in that Roman worthy_ Julius Cæsar.] _Aristot. 3. Ethic. cap. 6._
  • amongst other requisites, requires to valour, that it keep a mediocrity
  • betwixt audacity and fear; that we thrust not our selves into danger
  • when we need not; that we spare not to shew our valour when occasion
  • requires: he requires for its proper object, Death; and to any death, he
  • prefers death in War, because thereby a man profits his Country and
  • Friends; and that he calls _mors honesta_, an honest or honourable
  • death: and thereupon he defines a valiant man to be, _Is qui morte
  • honesta proposita, iisq; omnibus quæ cum sint repentina mortem adfuerunt
  • metu vacat_. So that by the Author's saying, there was onely the Name in
  • _Alexander_, he means only that which is rendred in the two last words,
  • _metu vacans_, and not the rest that goes to make up the definition of a
  • valiant man, which is very truly affirmed of _Alexander_, who exposed
  • himself to hazzard many times when there was no cause for it: As you may
  • read in _Curtius_, he did, in the siege of _Tyrus_, and many other ways.
  • _Cettuy-cy semble rechercher et courir à force les dangiers comme un
  • impetueux torrent, qui choque et attaque sans discretion, et sans chois
  • tout ce qu'il rencontre_, saith _Montaign_, speaking of _Alexander, l.
  • 2. des Ess. cap. 34_. And for _Cæsar_, it cannot be denied, but in his
  • Wars he was many times (though not so generally as _Alexander_) more
  • adventrous than reason military could warrant to him; and therefore
  • _Lucan_ gives him no better Character than
  • _Acer et indomitus quo spes quoq; ira vocasset
  • Ferre manum, etc._
  • Lucan. lib. 1.
  • To instance in some Particulars: with what an inconsiderable strength
  • did he enterprize the conquest of _Egypt_, and afterwards went to
  • attaque the forces of _Scipio_ and _Juba_, which were ten times more
  • than his own? after the Battle of _Pharsalia_, having sent his Army
  • before into _Asia_, and crossing the _Hellespont_ with one single
  • Vessel, he there meets _Lucius Cassius_ with ten men of War, he makes up
  • to him, summons him to render, and he does it. In the famous and furious
  • siege of _Alexia_, where he had 80,000 men to make defence against him,
  • and an Army of one hundred and nine thousand Horse, and two hundred and
  • forty thousand foot, all marching towards him, to raise his siege; yet
  • for all that he would not quit the siege, but first fought with those
  • without, and obtain'd a great Victory over them, and soon afterwards
  • brought the besieged to his mercy.
  • _Sect. 26. Pag. 41._
  • _The Council of_ Constance _condemns_ John Husse _for an Heretick, the
  • Stories of his own Party style him a Martyr_.] _John Husse_ did agree
  • with the Papists against us in the Point of Invocation of Saints,
  • Prayers and Sacrifice for the Dead, free Will, Good Works, confession of
  • Sins, seven Sacraments, etc. _Gordon. Hunt. l. contr. 3. de Sacr. Euch.
  • cap. 17_. Yet was he condemned for maintaining certain Articles said by
  • that Council to be heretical and seditious, and was burnt for Heresie.
  • Now as I will not say he was an Heretick, so can I not maintain that he
  • was a Martyr, if it be but for this one Article, which in the 15. Sess.
  • of that Council was objected against him, which he did acknowledge, but
  • would not recal, _i.e._ _Nullus est Dominus civilis, dum est in peccato
  • mortali_. If that Doctrine should be believed, we shall have little
  • obedience to Civil Magistrates; and without that, how miserable is
  • humane condition? That which begat compassion towards _Husse_ in those
  • of his own Party was, that he had a safe conduct from the Emperour
  • _Sigismund_; and therefore it was, say they, a violation of publick
  • faith in the _Council_ and _Emperour_ in putting him to death.
  • _That wise heathen_ Socrates _that suffered on a fundamental point of
  • Religion, the Unity of God_.] That _Socrates_ suffered on this Point,
  • divers Christian Writers do object to the Ethniques, as _Justin Martyr_,
  • Apol. 2. _Euseb. l. 5. de præparat. Evangelic. c. 14. Tertul._ in
  • _Apolog._ cap. 14. and _Lactant. de justitia_, cap. 15. whose words
  • are these: _Plato quidem multa de uno Deo locutus est, à quo ait
  • constitutum esse mundum, sed nihil de Religione; somniaverat enim Deum,
  • non cognoverat. Quod si justitiæ defensionem vel ipse vel quilibet alius
  • implere voluisset, imprimis Deorum Religiones evertere debuit, quia
  • contrariæ pietati. Quod quidem Socrates quia facere tentavit in carcerem
  • conjectus est, ut jam tunc appareret quid esset futurum iis hominibus
  • qui justitiam veram defendere Deoque singulari servire cœpissent_.
  • _I have often pitied the miserable Bishop that suffered in the cause
  • of_ Antipodes.] The suffering was, that he lost his Bishoprick for
  • denying the _Antipodes_. Vid. _Aventin. in Hist. Boio_. Besides him,
  • there were other Church-men of great note, that denyed _Antipodes_, as
  • _Lactantias_, _Augustin_, and _Bede_.
  • _Sect. 27. Pag. 43._
  • _I hold that God can do all things: How he should work contradictions, I
  • do not understand, yet dare not therefore deny._] Who would not think
  • the Author had taken this from Mr. _Montaign_, whose words are, _Il m'a
  • tousjours semble qu'a un homme Christien, cette sorte de parler est
  • plein d'indiscretion et d'irreverence [Dieu ne se peut disdire,] [Dieu
  • ne peut faire cecy ou cela]. Je ne trouve pas bon d'enfermer ainsi la
  • puissance divine sous les loix de nostre parole. Et l'apparence qui s'
  • offre à nous en ses propositions, il la faudroit representer plus
  • reverement, et plus Religieusement._ Liv. 2. des Ess. c. 12.
  • _I cannot see why the Angel of God should question_ Esdras _to recal the
  • time past, if it were beyond his own power, or that God should pose
  • mortality in that which he was not able to perform himself._] Sir _K.
  • Digby_ in his Notes upon this place saith, There is no contradiction in
  • this, because he saith it was but putting all things that had motion
  • into the same state they were in at that moment, unto which time was to
  • be reduced back, and from thence letting it travel on again by the same
  • motions, _etc._ which God could do. But under favour, the contradiction
  • remains, if this were done that he mentions; for Time depends not at all
  • upon motion, but has a being altogether independent of it, and therefore
  • the same revolution would not bring back the same time, for that was
  • efflux'd before; as in the time of _Joshua_, when the Sun stood still,
  • we cannot but conceive, though there were no motion of the Sun, but that
  • there was an efflux of Time, otherwise, how could the Text have it,
  • _That there was not any day, before or after, that was so long as that?_
  • for the length of it must be understood in respect of the flux of time.
  • The reasoning of Sir _Kenelme_ is founded upon the opinion of _Aristot_.
  • who will needs have it, that Time cannot be without mutation; he gives
  • this for a reason, because when we have slept, and cannot perceive any
  • mutation to have been, we do therefore use to connect the time of our
  • sleeping and of our awaking together, and make but one of it: to which
  • it may be answered, although some mutation be necessary, that we may
  • mark the mix of time, it doth not therefore follow that the mutation is
  • necessary to the flux it self.
  • _Sect. 28. Pag. 43._
  • _I excuse not_ Constantine _from a fall off his Horse, or a mischief
  • from his enemies, upon the wearing those nails_, etc.] _Hac de re
  • videatur P. Diac. hist. miscell._
  • _Sect. 29. Pag. 44._
  • _I wonder how the curiosity of wiser heads could pass that great and
  • indisputable miracle, the cessation of Oracles._] There are three
  • opinions touching the manner how the predictions of these Oracles were
  • perform'd: Some say by vapour, some by the intelligences, or
  • influences, of the Heavens, and others say by the assistance of the
  • Devils. Now the indisputable miracle the Author speaks of, is, that they
  • ceas'd upon the coming of Christ; and it is generally so believed; and
  • the Oracle of _Delphos_ delivered to _Augustus_, mentioned by the Author
  • in this Section, is brought to prove it, which is this:
  • _Me puer Hebrœus divos Deus ipse gubernans
  • Cedere sede jubet, tristemq; redire sub orcum.
  • Aris ergo dehinc tacitus discedito nostris._
  • But yet it is so far from being true that their cessation was
  • miraculous, that the truth is, there never were any predictions given by
  • those Oracles at all.
  • That their cessation was not upon the coming of Christ, we have luculent
  • testimony out of _Tully_, in his _2. lib. de Divinat._ which he writ
  • many years before Christ was born; who tells us that they were silent
  • (and indeed he never thought they were otherwise) long before that time,
  • insomuch that they were come into contempt: _Cur isto modo jam oracula
  • Delphis non eduntur, non modo nostra œtate, sed jamdiu jam ut nihil
  • possit esse contemptius_. So that for that of _Delphos_, which was the
  • most famous of them all, we see we have no reason to impute the
  • cessation of it to Christ; Why therefore should we do so for any of the
  • rest?
  • For their predictions, let us consider the three several ways before
  • mentioned, whereby they are supposed to operate; and from thence see
  • whether it be probable that any such Oracles ever were.
  • The first Opinion is, that it was by exhalation or vapour drawn up from
  • the earth; and gives this for a reason of their being, that they were
  • for a time nourished by those exhalations; and when those ceased, and
  • were exhausted, the Oracles famish'd and died for want of their
  • accustom'd sustenance: this is the far-fetcht reason given by _Plutarch_
  • for their defect; but 'twas not devised by him, but long before, as
  • appears, in that _Tully_ scoffs at it, _lib. de divinat_. _De vino aut
  • salsamento putes loqui_ (saith he) _quæ evanescunt vetustate_. This
  • seem'd absurd to others, who do therefore say this was not to be
  • attributed to any power of the Earth, but to the power of the Heavens,
  • or _Intelligences Cœlestial_; to certain aspects whereof, they say,
  • the Statua's of those Oracles were so adapted, that they might divine
  • and foretel future events. But yet to others, this way seemeth as absurd
  • as the others; for, say they, admitting that there were an efficacy in
  • the Heavens, more than in the Earth; yet how can it be that men should
  • come by the skill to fit the Statua's to the Aspects or influences of
  • the Heavens? or if at any time they had such skill, why should not the
  • same continue the rather, because men are more skilled in the motions
  • of the Heavens, of later than in the former time? Again, they do not see
  • how it should be that the cause should be of less excellency than the
  • effect; for if a man (say they) can by his industry make such Oracles,
  • why can he not produce the same effect in another man? for if you affirm
  • that the Heavens influence is requisite, they will tell you that
  • Influence may happen as well to a man, as to a Statue of wood or stone.
  • Therefore the third sort being unsatisfied, which either of the former
  • ways conclude, that this was perform'd by the Devil; but for that it
  • will appear as contrary to Reason and Philosophy, as either of the
  • former; for Philosophy teacheth that things singular, or individual, are
  • to be known only by sense, or by such an Intellect, as doth know by its
  • Essence; and Theology teacheth that God only knoweth the heart, and that
  • the Devil doth not know by sense, nor by essence; and since 'tis
  • admitted by all, that most of the answers that were pretended to be
  • given by those Oracles, were _de rebus singularibus_, or _individuis_;
  • it is evident that these predictions were not perform'd by Devils. How
  • then? why those predictions which the ignorant Heathen took to come from
  • Heaven, and some Christians (not less ignorant) from the Devil, was
  • nothing but the jugling and impostures of the Priests, who from within
  • the Statua's gave the answers; which Princes connived at, that they
  • might upon occasion serve their turns upon the ignorance of the people;
  • and the learned men, for fear of their Princes, durst not speak against
  • it. _Lucian_ hath noted it, and so a more Authentick Author, _Minut.
  • Felix._, in _Octav. Authoritatem quasi præsentis numinis consequuntur
  • dum inspirantur interim vatibus_. But in process of time, the people
  • grew less credulous of their Priests, and so the Oracles became to be
  • silent: _Cum jam_ (saith he) _Apollo versus facere desisset, cujus tunc
  • cautum illud et ambiguum deficit oraculum: Cum et politiores homines et
  • minus creduli esse cæperunt_. Sir _H. Blount_ in his _Levantine_ voyage,
  • saith he saw the Statua of _Memnon_ so famous of old; he saith it was
  • hollow at top, and that he was told by the _Egyptians_ and Jews there
  • with him, that they had seen some enter there, and come out at the
  • Pyramid, two Bows shoot off; then (saith he) I soon believ'd the Oracle,
  • and believe all the rest to have been such; which indeed, is much easier
  • to imagine than that it was perform'd by any of the three wayes before
  • mentioned. St. _Aug._ hath composed a Book, where he handleth this point
  • at large, and concludeth that the Devils can no more foretel things
  • come, than they are able to discern the thoughts that are within us.
  • _Aug. lib. de Scientia Dæmon._
  • _Till I laughed my self out of it with a piece of_ Justin, _where he
  • delivers that the Children of_ Israel _for being scabbed were banished
  • out of_ Egypt.] These words of _Justin_ are, _Sed cum scabiem Ægyptii
  • et pruriginem paterentur, responso moniti, eum (se. Moysen) cum ægris,
  • ne pestis ad plures serperet, terminis Ægypti pellunt. l. 36._ But he is
  • not singular in this, for _Tacitus_ tells us, _Hist. lib. 5. Plurimi
  • authores consentiunt orta per Ægyptum tabe quœ corpora fœduret,
  • Regem (Ochirum)_ (he means _Pharaoh_) _adito Hammonis oraculo remedium
  • petentem purgare. Regnum et id genus hominum----alias in terras avertere
  • jussum._ Et paulo inferius, _Quod ipsos scabies quondam turpaverat_.
  • _Sect. 30. Pag. 45._
  • _I have ever believed, and do now know that there are Witches._] What
  • sort of Witches they were that the Author knew to be such. I cannot
  • tell; for those which he mentions in the next Section, which proceed
  • upon the principles of Nature, none have denyed that such there are;
  • against such it was, that the _Lex Julia de veneficiis_ was made, that
  • is, those, _Qui noxio poculo aut impuris medicuminibus aliquem fuerint
  • insectati. At. ab Alex. Gen. Dier._ l. 5. c. 1. But for the opinion that
  • there are Witches which co-operate with the Devil, there are Divines of
  • great note, and far from any suspition of being irreligious, that do
  • oppose it. Certainly there is no ground to maintain their being from the
  • story of Oracles, as may be seen from what hath been said on the
  • precedent Section.
  • _Nor have the power to be so much as Witches._] _Pliny_ saith, so it
  • fared with _Nero_, who was so hot in pursuit of the Magick Arts, that he
  • did dedicate himself wholly to it, and yet could never satisfie himself
  • in that kind, though he got all the cunning men he could from the East,
  • for that purpose. _Plin._ l. 3. _Nat. Hist._ c. 1.
  • _Pag. 46._
  • _By conjunction with the Devil._] Though, as the Author saith, it be
  • without a possibility of Generation, yet there are great men that hold,
  • that such carnality is performed; as _August, in Levit. Aquin. l. 2. de
  • qu. 73. art. ad 2._ and _Justin Martyr, Apol. 1._
  • _Sect. 33. Pag. 48._
  • _It is no new opinion of the Church of_ Rome, _but an old one of_
  • Pythagoras _and_ Plato.] This appears by _Apuleius_ a Platonist, in his
  • Book _de Deo Socratis_, and elsewhere. See _Mede's Apostasie of the
  • latter times_, where out of this and other Authors, you shall see
  • collected all the learning _de Geniis_.
  • _Pag. 50._
  • _I cannot with those in that great Father securely interpret the work of
  • the first day_, Fiat lux, _to the creation of Angels_.] This great
  • Father is S. _Chrysost. Homil. in Genes_. But yet 'tis his opinion, as
  • also of _Athanasius_ and _Theodoret_, that there is express mention of
  • the creation of Angels, so that they need not rest upon this place,
  • which they admit to be somewhat obscure. The place which they take to be
  • express, is that of the 130 _Psalm_, where _David_ begins to speak of
  • the Majesty of God, in this manner: _Confessionem sive majestatem et
  • decorem induisti, amictus lumine sicut vestimento_: Next he speaks of
  • the Heavens, saying, _Thou hast stretched them out over us like a
  • Tent._ Then he speaks of the Angels, _Qui facis Angelos tuos spiritus_.
  • Now if it shall be objected, that this expression is onely of the time
  • present, and without relation to the Creation: Answer is given by
  • Divines, that the _Hebrews_ have but three Tenses in their Verbs, the
  • Preterperfect, Present, and Future Tense; and have not the use of the
  • Preterimperfect, and Preterpluperfect, as the _Greeks_ and _Latines_
  • have; whence it ariseth, that the Present Tense with the _Hebrews_, may,
  • as the sentence will bear it, be translated by the Preterimperfect, as
  • also by the Preterperfect and Preterpluperfect Tense; and this (they
  • say) is practised in this very passage, where the Phrase, as it is in
  • Hebrew, may be rendered as well _qui faciebas_, as _qui facis Angelos_,
  • etc. Vid. _Hieronym. in Ep. ad Titum, et Thom. Aqu. 1. p. qu. 61. art.
  • 3_. The Latine Annotator saith, the Father meant by the Author, is St.
  • _Aug._ and quotes him, _l. II. de Civ. Dei_ cap. 9. which place I have
  • perused, and find the expression there used by St. _Aug._ is but
  • hypothetical; for these are his words: _Cum enim dixit Fiat lux, et
  • facta est lux, si rectè in fine luce creatio intelligitur Angelorum_,
  • etc. Where you see 'tis but with a _Si_, and therefore I conceive the
  • Author intends not him, but _Chrysostom_.
  • _Where it subsists alone, 'tis a Spiritual Substance, and may be an
  • Angel._] _Epicurus_ was of this opinion, and St. _Aug. in Euchirid. ad
  • Laurentium_.
  • _Sect. 35. Pag. 52._
  • Moses _decided that Question, and all is salved with the new term of
  • Creation._] That is it which _Aristotle_ could not understand; he had
  • learned that _ex nihilo nihil fit_, and therefore when he found those
  • that disputed that the World had a beginning, did maintain that it was
  • generated, and he could not understand any generation, but out of matter
  • præ-existent _in infinitum_, therefore he took their opinion to be
  • absurd, and upon that ground principally, concluded the World to be
  • eternal: whereas, if he had understood that there may be such a thing as
  • Creation, he had not done it, for that solves his _processus in
  • infinitum_. Take from _Plato_, that the World had a beginning, and from
  • _Aristot._ that it was not generated, and you have the (true) Christian
  • opinion.
  • _Sect. 36. Pag. 54._
  • _In our study of Anatomy, there is a mass of mysterious Philosophy, and
  • such as reduced the very Heathens to Divinity._] So it did _Galen_, who
  • considering the order, use, and disposition of the parts of the body,
  • brake forth into these words: _Compono hic profecto Canticam in
  • creatoris nostri laudem, quod ultra res suas ornare voluit melius quam
  • ulla arte possent_. Galen, 3. _de usu partium_.
  • _Sect. 37. Pag. 55._
  • _I cannot believe the wisdom of_ Pythagoras _did ever positively, and in
  • a literal sense, affirm his_ Metempsychosis.] In this the opinion of
  • _Grotius_ is contrary to the Author, who saith this opinion was begotten
  • by occasion of the opinion of other Philosophers, who in their
  • discourses of the life that is to be after this, brought such
  • arguments, _Quæ non magis de homine quam de bestiis procedunt_. And
  • therefore, saith he, _mirandum non est, si transitum animarum de
  • hominibus in bestias, de bestiis in homines alii commenti sunt_. _Lib.
  • 2. de ver. Relig. Christ. (vide etiam Annotat. ejusd.)._ But yet there
  • is a shrewd objection against the opinion of _Pythagoras_, if he did
  • mean it literally, which is cast in by the Sectators of _Democritus_ and
  • _Epicurus_, which _Lucretius_ remembers in these Verses:
  • _Præterea si immortalis natura animaï
  • Constat, et in corpus nascentibus insinuatur,
  • Cur super anteactam ætatem meminisse nequimus?
  • Nec vestigia gestarum rerum ulla tenemus?
  • Namsi tantopere 'st animi mutata potestas,
  • Omnis ut actarum excideret retinentia rerum,
  • Non ut opinor ea ab læto jam longiter errat._
  • [Lib. 3.]
  • This Argument, 'tis true, is _pro falso contra falsum_, but yet holds
  • _ad hominem_ so far, that it is not likely (as the Author saith) but
  • _Pythagoras_ would observe an absurdity in the consequence of his
  • Metempsychosis; and therefore did not mean it literally, but desired
  • only to express the Soul to be immortal, which he, and the other
  • Philosophers that were of that opinion, who had not heard of Creation,
  • could not conceive, unless it must be taken for truth, that the soul
  • were before the body; so saith _Lactantius_ of them. _Non putaverunt
  • aliter fieri posse ut supersint animæ post corpora, nisi videntur fuisse
  • ante corpora. De fals. Sap._ c. 18.
  • _Sect. 41. Pag. 59._
  • _I do not envy the temper of Crows or Daws._] As _Theophrastus_ did, who
  • dying, accused Nature for giving them, to whom it could not be of any
  • concernment, so large a life; and to man, whom it much concern'd, so
  • short a one. _Cic. Tusc. quæst. l. 3._ How long Daws live, see in _Not.
  • ad Sect. 41_.
  • _Sect. 42. Pag. 61._
  • _Not upon _Cicero's_ ground, because I have liv'd them well._] I suppose
  • he alludes to an expression in an Epistle of _Cicero_, written in his
  • Exile, to his wife and children, where he hath these words to his wife:
  • _Quod reliquum est, te sustenta mea Terentia ut potes, honestissime
  • viximus, floruimus. Non vitium nostrum sed virtus nos afflixit, peccatum
  • est nullum nisi quod non unà animum cum ornamentis amisimus_, l. 24, Ep.
  • 4.
  • _And stand in need of _Eson's_ bath before threescore._] _Eson_ was the
  • Father of _Jason_, and, at his request, was by _Medea_, by the means of
  • this Bath, restored to his youth. Ingredients that went into it, and the
  • description of _Medea's_ performance, _Ovid_ gives you, _l. 7. Metam._
  • _Interea calido positum medicamen aheno_
  • _Fervet et exultat, spumisq; tumentibus albet._
  • _Illic Æmonia radices valle resectas,
  • Seminaq; et flores, et succos incoquit atros
  • Adjicet extremo lapides Oriente petitos,
  • Et quas Oceani refluum mare lavit arenas:
  • Addidit exceptas lunæ de nocte pruinas,
  • Et Strigis infames ipsis cum carnibus alas,
  • Inq; virum soliti vultus mutare ferinos
  • Ambigui prosecta lupi, nec defuit illi
  • Squamea Cinyphei tenuis membrana Chelidri,
  • Vivacisq; jecur cervi; quibus insuper addit
  • Ora caputq; novem cornicis secula passæ.
  • His et mille aliis, postquam sine nomine rebus
  • Propositum instruxit mortali barbara munus
  • Arenti ramo jampridem mitis olivæ
  • Omnia confudit, summisq; immiscuit ima.
  • Ecce vetus calido versatus stipes aheno
  • Fit viridis primo, nec longo tempore frondes
  • Induit, et subito gravidis oneratur olivis.
  • At quacunq; cavo spumas ejecit aheno
  • Ignis, et in terram guttæ cecidere calentes,
  • Vernat humus, floresq; et mollia pabula surgunt.
  • Quæ simulac vidit, stricto Medea recludit
  • Ense senis jugulum, veteremq; extare cruorem
  • Passa replet succis, quos postquam combibit Æson,
  • Aut ore acceptas, aut vulnere, barba comœq;
  • Cunitie posita, nigrum rapuere colorem.
  • Pulsa fugit macies: abeunt pallorq; situsque:
  • Adjectoq; cavæ supplentur corpore rugæ;
  • Membraq; luxuriant. Æson miratur, et olim
  • Ante quater denos hunc se reminiscitur annos,
  • Dissimilemq; animum subiit, ætate relicta._
  • [262-293.]
  • _Sect. 44. Pag. 62._
  • _Extol the Suicide of_ Cato.] As doth _Seneca_ in several places; but
  • _Lactantius_ saith, he cast away his life, to get the reputation of a
  • _Platonick_ Philosopher, and not for fear of _Cæsar_; and 'tis very
  • probable, he was in no great fear of death, when he slept so securely
  • the night before his death, as the story reports of him.
  • _Pag. 63._
  • _Emori nolo, sed me esse mortuum, nihil curo._ _Were I of_ Cæsar's
  • _Religion_.] I doubt not, but here is a fault of the Press, and that
  • instead of _Cæsar_ it should be _Cicero_. I meet not with any such
  • saying imputed to _Cæsar_, nor any thing like it, but that he preferr'd
  • a sudden death (in which he had his option) to any other; but I meet
  • with such a saying in _Cicero_ quoted out of _Epicharmus_ [_Emori nolo,
  • sed me esse mortuum nihili æstimo._] Where _Cicero_ sustaineth the part
  • of the _Epicure_ that there is no hurt in being dead, since there
  • remaineth nothing after it. _Cic. 1. Thusc. qu. non procul ab initio_.
  • _Sect. 45. Pag. 64._
  • Or whence _Lucan_ learn'd to say, _Communis mundo superest rogus_, etc.]
  • Why, _Lucan_ was a Stoique, and 'twas an opinion among them almost
  • generally, that the world should perish by fire; therefore without doubt
  • from them he learned it. _Cælum quoque cum omnibus quæ in cælo
  • continentur, ita ut cœpisset desinere, fontium dulci aqua marisve
  • nutriri, in vim ignis abiturum. Stoicis constans opinio est, quod
  • consumpto humore mundus hic omnis ignescat._ _Minutius in Octav._ But
  • _Minutius_ should have excepted _Boetius_, _Possidonius_, _Diogenes
  • Babylonius_, and _Zeno Sidonius_, who were _Stoiques_, and yet did not
  • think the world should be destroyed by fire, nor yet by any other means.
  • _Sect. 46. Pag. 65._
  • _How shall we interpret _Elias 6000_ years_, etc.?] _Lactant._ is very
  • positive that the world should last but 6000 years; but his reason for
  • it is somewhat strange; thus it is, _Quoniam sex diebus cuncta Dei opera
  • perfecta sunt, per secula sex_, i.e. _annorum sex millia manere in hoc
  • statu mundum necesse est_. _De Divino præmio_, cap. 14.
  • _Sect. 47. Pag. 67._
  • _Ipsa sui pretium virtus sibi, is but a cold principle._] It is a
  • Stoical principle. _Quæris enim aliquid supra summum, interrogas quid
  • petam extra virtutem ipsam. Nihil enim habet melius. Pretium sui est._
  • Senec. _de vit. beat._ c. 19.
  • _That honest artifice of_ Seneca.] What that article was, is to be seen
  • in _Senec. l. 1. ep. 11_. _Aliquis vir bonus nobis eligendus est, et
  • semper ante oculos babendus, ut sic tanquam illo spectante vivamus, et
  • omnia tanquam illo vidente faciamus._ Et paulo post; _Elige itaq;
  • Catonem; si hic videtur tibi nimis rigidus, elige remissioris animi
  • virum Lælium_, etc. which though, as the Author saith, it be an honest
  • Artifice, yet cannot I but commend the party, and prefer the direction
  • of him (whoever he were) who in the Margin of my _Seneca_, over against
  • those words, wrote these: _Quin Deo potius qui semper omnibus omnia
  • agentibus non tanquam sed reipsa adest, et videt; ac etiam ut Testis,
  • vindex et punitor est male agentis_.
  • _I have tried, if I could reach that great Resolution of his (that is of
  • _Seneca_) to be honest without a thought of Heaven or Hell._]
  • _Seneca_[6] brags he could do this, in these words: _Si scirem deos
  • peccata ignoscituros, et homines ignoraturos, adhuc propter vilitatem
  • peccati peccare erubescerem. Credat Judæus Appela: non ego_.----
  • [6] _Tho. Aquin. in com. in Boet. de Consolat. prope finem._
  • _And Atheists have been the onely Philosopher._] That is, if nothing
  • remain after this life. St. _Aug._ was of this opinion. _Disputabam----
  • Epicurum accepturum fuisse palmam in animo meo, nisi ego credidissem
  • post mortem restare animæ vitam_, etc. Aug. _l. 6. conf. cap. 16_.
  • _Sect. 48. Pag. 68._
  • _God by a powerful voice shall command them back into their proper
  • shapes._] So _Minutius_. _Cæterum quis tam stultus est aut brutus, ut
  • audeat repugnare hominem à Deo ut primum potuit fingi, ita posse denuo
  • reformari, nihil esse post obitum, et ante ortum nihil fuisse; sicut de
  • nihilo nasci licuit, ita de nihilo licere reparari. Porro difficilius
  • est id quod sit incipere, quod quam id quod fuerit iterare. Tu perire
  • Deo credis, si quid nostris oculis hebetibus subtrahitur. Corpus omne
  • sive arescit in pulverem sive in humorem solvitur, vel in cinerem
  • comprimitur vel in nidorem tenuatur, subducitur nobis, sed Deo
  • elementorum custodi inseruntur. In Octav._ _Vide_ Grot. _de veritate
  • Relig. Christian. ubi (lib. 2.) solvit objectionem, quod dissoluta
  • corpora resititui nequeunt._
  • _Sect. 50. Pag. 71._
  • _Or conceive a flame that can either prey upon, or purifie the substance
  • of a soul._] Upon this ground _Psellus lib 1. de Energia Dæmonum_, c. 7
  • holds, That Angels have bodies, (though he grants them to be as pure, or
  • more pure than Air is) otherwise he could not apprehend how they should
  • be tormented in Hell; and it may be upon this ground it was, that the
  • Author fell into the error of the _Arabians_, mentioned by him, _Sect.
  • 7_.
  • _Sect. 51. Pag. 73._
  • _There are as many Hells as _Anaxagoras_ conceited worlds._] I assure my
  • self that this is false printed, and that instead of _Anaxagoras_ it
  • should be _Anaxarchus_; for _Anaxagoras_ is reckon'd amongst those
  • Philosophers that maintain'd a Unity of the world, but _Anaxarchus_
  • (according to the opinion of _Epicurus_) held there were infinite
  • Worlds. That is he that caus'd _Alexander_ to weep by telling him that
  • there were infinite worlds, whereby _Alexander_ it seems was brought out
  • of opinion of his Geography, who before that time thought there remained
  • nothing, or not much beyond his Conquests.
  • _Sect. 54. Pag. 75._
  • _It is hard to place those souls in Hell._] _Lactantius_ is alike
  • charitably disposed towards those. _Non sum equidem tam iniquus ut eos
  • putem divinare debuisse, ut veritatem per seipsos invenirent (quod fieri
  • ego non posse confiteor) sed hoc ab eis exigo, quod ratione ipse
  • præstare potuerunt._ Lactant. _de orig. error._ c. 3. which is the very
  • same with Sir _K. Digbie's_ expression in his Observations on this
  • place. I make no doubt at all (saith he) but if any follow'd in the
  • whole tenour of their lives, the dictamens of right reason, but that
  • their journey was secure to Heaven.
  • _Sect. 55. Pag. 77._
  • Aristotle _transgress'd the rule of his own Ethicks._] And so they did
  • all, as _Lactantius_ hath observed at large. _Aristot._ is said to have
  • been guilty of great vanity in his Clothes, of Incontinency, of
  • Unfaithfulness to his Master _Alexander_, etc. But 'tis no wonder in
  • him, if our great _Seneca_ be also guilty, whom truely notwithstanding
  • St. _Jerome_ would have him inserted in the Catalogue of Saints, yet I
  • think he as little deserv'd it, as many of the Heathens who did not say
  • so well as he did, for I do not think any of them liv'd worse: to trace
  • him a little. In the time of the Emperour _Claudius_ we find he was
  • banish'd for suspition of incontinency with _Julia_ the daughter of
  • _Germanicus_. If it be said that this proceeded meerly from the spight
  • of _Messalina_, (and that _Lipsius_ did not complement with him in that
  • kind _Apostrophe, Non expetit in te hæc culpa, O Romani nominis et
  • Sapientiæ magne. Sol. Not. in Tacit._) why then did she not cause him
  • to be put to death, as well as she did the other, who was her Husbands
  • Niece? This for certain, whatever his life were, he had _paginam
  • lascivam_, as may appear by what he hath written, _de Speculorum usu, l.
  • 1. Nat. Qu. cap. 16_. Which (admitting it may in a Poet, yet) how it
  • should be excus'd in a Philosopher I know not. To look upon him in his
  • exile, we find that then he wrote his Epistle _De Consolat._ to
  • _Polybius_, _Claudius_ his creature (as honest a man as _Pallas_ or
  • _Narcissus_) and therein he extols him and the Emperour to the Skies; in
  • which he did grosly prevaricate, and lost much of his reputation, by
  • seeking a discharge of his exile by so sordid a means. Upon _Claudius_
  • his marriage with _Agrippina_, he was recall'd from Banishment by her
  • means, and made _Prætor_, then he forgets the Emperour, having no need
  • of him, labours all he can to depress him and the hopeful _Brittanicus_,
  • and procured his Pupil _Nero_ to be adopted and design'd Successor, and
  • the Emperours own Son to be disinherited; and against the Emperour whom
  • he so much praised when he had need of him, after his death he writes a
  • scurrilous Libel. In _Nero's_ Court, how ungratefully doth he behave
  • himself towards _Agrippina_! who although she were a wicked woman, yet
  • she deserv'd well of him, and of her Son too, who yet never was at rest
  • till he had taken away her life, and upon suspition cast in against her
  • by this man. Afterwards not to mention that he made great haste to grow
  • rich, which should not be the business of a Philosopher, towards _Nero_
  • himself, how well did it become his Philosophy to play the Traitor
  • against him, and to become a complice in the conspiracy of _Piso_? And
  • then as good a Tragedian as he was, me thinks he doth in _extremo actu
  • deficere_, when he must needs perswade _Paulina_, that excellent Lady
  • his wife, to die with him: what should move him to desire it? it could
  • in his opinion be no advantage to her, for he believ'd nothing of the
  • immortality of the soul; I am not satisfied with the reason of
  • _Tacitus_, _Ne sibi unice dilectam ad injurius relinqueret_, because he
  • discredits it himself, in almost the next words, where he saith, _Nero_
  • bore her no ill will at all, (and would not suffer her to die) it must
  • surely be then, because he thought he had not liv'd long enough (being
  • not above 114 years old, so much he was) and had not the fortitude to
  • die, unless he might receive some confirmation in it by her example. Now
  • let any man judge what a precious Legacy it is that he bequeaths by his
  • nuncupative will to his friends in _Tacitus_. _Conversus ad amicos_
  • (saith he) _quando meritis eorum referre gratiam prohiberetur, quod unum
  • jam tamen et pulcherrimum habebat, imaginem vitæ suæ relinquere
  • testatur_. It cannot be denyed of him, that he hath said very well; but
  • yet it must as well be affirmed, that his Practice hath run counter to
  • his Theory, to use the Author's phrase.
  • _The_ Scepticks _that affirmed they knew nothing_.] The ancient
  • Philosophers are divided into three sorts, _Dogmatici_, _Academici_,
  • _Sceptici_; the first were those that delivered their opinions
  • positively; the second left a liberty of disputing _pro et contra_; the
  • third declared that there was no knowledge of any thing, no not of this
  • very proposition, that there is no knowledge, according to that,
  • _----Nihil sciri siquis putat, id quoq; nescit
  • An sciri possit, quod se nil scire fatetur._
  • _The Duke of_ Venice _that weds himself to the Sea by a Ring of Gold_,
  • etc.] The Duke and Senate yearly on _Ascension-day_ use to go in their
  • best attire to the Haven of _Lido_, and there by throwing a Ring into
  • the water, do take the Sea as their spouse. _Vid. Hist. Ital._ by _Will
  • Thomas Cambrobrit_. _Busbequius_ reports that there is a custom amongst
  • the Turks, which they took from the Greek Priests, not much unlike unto
  • this. _Cum Græcorum sacerdotibus mos sit certo veris tempore aquas
  • consecrando mare clausum veluti reserare, ante quod tempus non facile se
  • committunt fluctibus; ab ea Ceremonia nec Turcæ absunt._ Busb. _Ep. 3.
  • legat. Tursic._
  • _But the Philosopher that threw his money into the Sea, to avoid
  • avarice_, etc.] This was _Apollonius Thyaneus_, who threw a great
  • quantity of Gold into the Sea with these words, _Pessundo divitias, ne
  • pessundarem ab illis_. _Polycrates_ the Tyrant of _Samos_ cast the best
  • Jewel he had into the Sea, that thereby he might learn to compose
  • himself against the vicissitude of Fortune.
  • _There go so many circumstances to piece up one good action._] To make
  • an action to be good, all the causes that concur must be good; but one
  • bad amongst many good ones, is enough to make it vitious, according to
  • the rule, _Bonum ex causa integra, malum ex partiali_.
  • _Sect. 56. Pag. 78._
  • _The vulgarity of those judgements that wrap the Church of God in_
  • Strabo's _Cloak, and restrain it unto_ Europe.] 'Tis _Strabonis tunica_
  • in the translation, but _Chalmydi_ would do better, which is the proper
  • expression of the word that _Strabo_ useth: it is not _Europe_, but the
  • known part of the world that _Strabo_ resembleth to a Cloak, and that is
  • it the Author here alludeth to; but we have no reason to think that the
  • resemblance of _Strabo_ is very proper, _Vid._ Sir _Hen. Savil. in not.
  • ad Tac. in vita Agricolæ_.
  • _Sect. 57. Pag. 79._
  • _Those who upon a rigid Application of the Law, sentence_ Solomon _unto
  • damnation_, etc.] St. _Aug._ upon _Psal._ 126. and in many other places,
  • holds that _Solomon_ is damned. Of the same opinion is _Lyra_, in 2
  • _Reg._ c. 7. and _Bellarm. 1 Tom. lib. 1. Controv._ c. 5.
  • THE SECOND PART
  • _Sect. 1. Pag. 83._
  • _I wonder not at the_ French _for their Frogs, Snails and Toad-stools_.]
  • Toad-stools are not peculiar to the _French_; they were a great delicacy
  • among the _Romans_, as appears every where in _Martial_. It was
  • conceived the Emperor _Claudius_ received his death by Poyson, which he
  • took in Mushroom. _Suet._ and _Tac._
  • _Sect. 2. Pag. 87._
  • _How among so many millions of faces, there should be none alike._] It
  • is reported there have been some so much alike, that they could not be
  • distinguished; as King _Antiochus_, and one _Antemon_, a Plebeian of
  • _Syria_, were so much alike, that _Laodice_, the Kings widow, by
  • pretending this man was the King, dissembled the death of the King so
  • long, till according to her own mind, a Successor was chosen. _Cn.
  • Pompeius_, and one _Vibius_ the Orator; _C. Plancus_, and _Rubrius_ the
  • Stage-player; _Cassius Severus_ the Orator, and one _Mirmello_; _M.
  • Messala Censorius_, and one _Menogenes_, were so much alike, that unless
  • it were by their habit, they could not be distinguished: but this you
  • must take upon the Faith of _Pliny_ (_lib. 7. c. 12._) and _Solinus_,
  • (_cap. 6._) who as this Author tells elsewhere, are Authors not very
  • infallible.
  • _Sect. 3. Pag. 89._
  • _What a_ βατροχομυομαχία _and hot skirmish is betwixt_ S. _and_ T. _in
  • Lucian_.] In his _Dialog. judicium vocalium_, where there is a large
  • Oration made to the Vowels, being Judges, by _Sigma_ against _Tau_,
  • complaining that _Tau_ has bereaved him of many words, which should
  • begin with _Sigma_.
  • _Their Tongues are sharper than_ Actius _his razor_.] _Actius Navius_
  • was chief Augur, who (as the story saith) admonishing _Tarqu. Priscus_
  • that he should not undertake any action of moment, without first
  • consulting the Augur, the King (shewing that he had little faith in his
  • skill) demanded of him, whether by the rules of his skill, what he had
  • conceived in his mind might be done: to whom when _Actius_ had answered
  • it might be done, he bid him take a Whetstone which he had in his hand,
  • and cut it in two with a Razor; which accordingly the Augur did. _Livy._
  • And therefore we must conceive it was very sharp. Here the Adage was
  • cross'd, ξυρὸς εἰς ἀκόνην, i.e. _novacula in cotem. Vid. Erasm.
  • Chiliad_.
  • _Pag. 90._
  • _It is not meer Zeal to Learning, or devotion to the Muses, that wiser
  • Princes Patronize the Arts_, etc. _but a desire to have their names
  • eterniz'd by the memory of their Writings_.] There is a great Scholar,
  • who took the boldness to tell a Prince so much. _Est enim bonorum
  • principum cum viris eruditis tacita quædam naturalisque Societas, ut
  • alteri ab alteris illustrentur, ac dum sibi mutuo suffragantur, et
  • gloria principibus, et doctis authoritas concilietur_. Politian. _Ep.
  • Ludovic. Sfort. quæ extat, lib. 11. Ep. ep. 1_. And to this Opinion
  • astipulates a Country man of our own, whose words are these: _Ignotus
  • esset Lucilius, nisi eum Epistolæ Senecæ illustrarent. Laudibus Cæsareis
  • plus Virgilius et Varus Lucanusq; adjecerunt, quam immensum illud
  • ærarium quo urbem et orbem spoliavit. Nemo prudentiam Ithaci aut Pelidæ
  • vires agnosceret, nisi eas Homerus divino publicasset ingenio: unde
  • nihil mihi videtur consultius viro ad gloriam properanti fidelium favore
  • scriptorum._ Joan. Sarisb. _Polycrat. l 8. c. 14_. And that Princes are
  • as much beholding to the Poets Pens as their own Swords, _Horace_ tells
  • _Censorinus_ with great confidence. _Od. 8. l. 4. Non incisa notis_,
  • etc.
  • _Sect. 4. Pag. 90._
  • _St._ Paul _that calls the_ Cretians _Lyars, doth it but indirectly, and
  • upon quotation of one of their own Poets_.] That is, _Epimenides_; the
  • place is _Tit. 1. v. 12._ where _Paul_ useth this verse, taken out of
  • _Epimenides_.
  • Κρῆτες ἀεὶ ψεῦσται, κακὰ θηρία, γαστέρες ἀργαί.
  • _It is as bloody a thought in one way, as_ Nero's _was in another_. _For
  • by a word we wound a thousand._] I suppose he alludes to that passage in
  • _Sueton._ in the life of _Nero_, where he relates that a certain person
  • upon a time, spoke in his hearing these words,
  • Ἐμοῦ θανόντος γαία μιχθήτω πυρί.
  • _i.e._ When I am dead let Earth be mingled with Fire. Whereupon the
  • Emperour uttered these words, Ἐμοῦ ζῶντος, _i.e._ _Yea whilst I live_:
  • there by one word, he express'd a cruel thought, which I think is the
  • thing he meant; this is more cruel than the wish of _Caligula_, that the
  • people of _Rome_ had but one Neck, that he might destroy them all at a
  • blow.
  • _Sect. 6. Pag. 95._
  • _I cannot believe the story of the_ Italian, etc.] It is reported that a
  • certain _Italian_ having met with one that had highly provoked him, put
  • a Ponyard to his breast, and unless he would blaspheme God, told him he
  • would kill him, which the other doing to save his life, the _Italian_
  • presently kill'd him, to the intent he might be damned, having no time
  • of Repentance.
  • _Sect. 7. Pag. 97._
  • _I have no sins that want a Name._] The Author in _cap. ult. lib. ult.
  • Pseudodox._ speaking of the Act of carnality exercised by the _Egyptian_
  • Pollinctors with the dead carcasses, saith we want a name for this,
  • wherein neither _Petronius_ nor _Martial_ can relieve us; therefore I
  • conceive the Author here means a venereal sin.
  • _This was the Temper of that Leacher that carnal'd with a Statua._] The
  • Latine Annotator upon this hath these words: _Romæ refertur de Hispano
  • quodam_. But certainly the Author means the Statue of _Venus Gnidia_
  • made by _Praxiteles_, of which a certain young man became so enamoured,
  • that _Pliny_ relates, _Ferunt amore captum cum delituisset nocta
  • simulachro cohæsisse, ejusq; cupiditas esse indicem masculum_. _Lucian_
  • also has the story in his _Dialog_. [_Amores._]
  • _And the constitution of_ Nero _in his Spintrian recreations._] The
  • Author doth not mean the last _Nero_, but _Tiberius_ the Emperour, whose
  • name was _Nero_ too; of whom _Sueton. Secessu vero Capreensi etiam
  • sellariam excogitavit sedem arcanarum libidinum, in quam undique
  • conquisti puellarum et exoletorum greges monstrosiq; concubitus
  • repertores, quos spintrias apellabat, triplici serie connexi invicem
  • incestarent se coram ipso, ut adspectu deficientes libidines excitaret._
  • Suet. _in Tib. 43_.
  • _Sect. 8. Pag. 98._
  • _I have seen a Grammarian toure and plume himself over a single line in_
  • Horace, _and shew more pride_, etc.] _Movent mihi stomachum Grammatistæ
  • quidam, qui cum duas tenuerint vocabularum origenes ita se ostentant,
  • ita venditant, ita circumferunt jactabundi, ut præ ipsis pro nihilo
  • habendos Philosophos arbitrentur._ Picus Mirand. _in Ep. ad Hermol.
  • Barb. quæ extat lib. nono Epist. Politian_.
  • _Garsio quisq; duas postquam scit jungere partes,
  • Sic stat, sic loquitur, velut omnes noverit artes._
  • _Pag. 99._
  • _I cannot think that_ Homer _pin'd away upon the Riddle of the
  • Fishermen._] The History out of _Plutarch_ is thus: Sailing from
  • _Thebes_ to the Island _Ion_, being landed and set down upon the shore,
  • there happen'd certain Fishermen to pass by him, and he asking them what
  • they had taken, they made him this Enigmatical answer, That what they
  • had taken, they had left behind them; and what they had not taken, they
  • had with them: meaning, that because they could take no Fish, they went
  • to loose themselves; and that all which they had taken, they had killed,
  • and left behind them, and all which they had not taken, they had with
  • them in their clothes: and that _Homer_ being struck with a deep sadness
  • because he could not interpret this, pin'd away, and at last dyed.
  • _Pliny_ alludes to this Riddle, in his _Ep._ to his Friend _Fuscus_,
  • where giving an account of spending his time in the Country, he tells
  • him, _Venor aliquando, sed non sine pugilluribus, ut quamvis nihil
  • ceperim, non nihil referam._ Plin. _Ep. lib. 9, Ep. 36_.
  • _Or that_ Aristot.----_did ever drown himself upon the flux or reflux
  • of_ Euripus.] _Laertius_ reports that _Aristotle_ dyed of a disease at
  • 63 years of age. For this and the last, see the Author in _Pseudodox_.
  • Aristotle _doth but instruct us as_ Plato _did him, to confute
  • himself_.] In the matter of _Idea's_, Eternity of the world, _etc._
  • _Sec. 9. Pag. 100._
  • _I could be content that we might procreate like trees without
  • conjunction, or that there were any way to perpetuate the world without
  • this trivial and vulgar way of Coition: It is the foolishest act a wise
  • man commits in all his life._] There was a Physitian long before the
  • Author, that was of the same opinion, _Hippocrates_; for which _vide A.
  • Gel. l. 19. Noct. Attic. c. 2_. And so of late time was _Paracelsus_,
  • who did undertake to prescribe a way for the generation of a man without
  • coition. _Vide Campanel. de sensu rerum, in Append. ad _cap. 19._ l. 4._
  • _Monsieur Montaignes_ words on this subject, are worth the reading;
  • these they are: _Je trouve apres tout, que l'amour n'est autre chose que
  • la fame de cette jouyssance, et considerant maintes fois la ridicule
  • titillation de ce plaiser par on il nous tient, les absurdes movements
  • escervelez et estourdis dequoy il agite Zenon et Cratippus, ceste rage
  • indiscrete, ce visage inflamme de fureur et de cruaute au plus doux
  • effect de l'amour, et puis cette morgue grare severe et extatique en une
  • action si folle, et que la supreme volupte aye du trainsy et du
  • plaintiff commer la douleur, je croye qu'on se joue de nous, et que c'est
  • par industrie que nature nous a laisse la plus trouble de nos actions
  • les plus communes pour nous esgaller par la et apparier les fols et les
  • sayes, et nous et les bestes. Le plus contemplatif et prudent homme
  • quand je l'imagin en cette assiette je le tien pour un affronteur, de
  • faire le prudent et le contemplatif: et sont les pieds du paon qui
  • abbatent son orgueil. Nous mangeons bien et beuvons comme les bestes,
  • mais ce ne sont pas actions, qui empeschent les operations de nostre
  • ame, en celles-la nous gardons nostre advantage sur elles: cettecy met
  • tout autre pensee sous le joug, abrutist et abesiit par son imperieuse
  • authorite toute la Theology et Philosophy, qui est en Platon et si il ne
  • s'en plaint pas. Par tout ailleurs vous pouvez garder quelque decence;
  • toutes autres operations souffrent des Regles d'honestete: cettecy ne se
  • peut sculement imaginer que vitieuse ou ridicule; trouvez y pour voir un
  • proceder sage et discret. Alexander disoit qu'il se cognossoit
  • principalement mortel par cette action et par le dormir: le sommeil
  • suffoque et supprime les facultez de nostre ame, la besoigne les absorbe
  • et dissipe de mesme. Certes c'est une marque non seulement de nostre
  • corruption originelle, mais aussi de nostre vanite et disformite. D'un
  • coste nature nous y pousse ayant attaché à ce desire la plan noble,
  • utile et plaisante de toutes ses operations, et la nous laisse d'autre
  • part accuser et fuyr comme insolent et dishoneste, en rougir et
  • recommander l'abstinence_, etc. Montaign _liv. 3. chapit. 5_.
  • _Sect. 10. Pag. 103._
  • _And may be inverted on the worst._] That is, that there are none so
  • abandoned to vice, but they have some sprinklings of vertue. There are
  • scarce any so vitious, but commend virtue in those that are endued with
  • it, and do some things laudable themselves, as _Plin._ saith in
  • _Panegyric_. _Machiavel_ upon _Livy, lib. 1. cap. 27_. sets down the
  • ensuing relation as a notable confirmation of this truth. _Julius
  • Pontifex ejus nominis secundus, anno salutis 1505. Bononiam exercitus
  • duxit, ut Bentivolorum familiam, quæ ejus urbis imperium centum jam
  • annos tenuerat, loco moveret. Eudemque in expeditione etiam Johannem
  • Pagolum, Bagloneum tyrannum Perusinum sua sede expellere decreverat, ut
  • cæteros item, qui urbes Ecclesiæ per vim tenerent. Ejus rei causa cum ad
  • Perusinam urbem accessisset, et notum jam omnibus esset quid in animo
  • haberet: tamen impatiens moræ, noluit exercitus expectare, sed inermis
  • quasi urbem ingressus est, in quant Johannes Pagolus defendendi sui
  • causa, non exiguas copias contraxerat. Is autem eodem furore, quo res
  • suas administrare solebat, una cum milite, cui custodiam sui corporis
  • demandarat, sese in pontificis potestatem dedidit; à quo abductus est
  • relictusque alius, qui Ecclesiæ nomine urbem gubernaret. Hac ipsu in re
  • magnopere admirati sunt viri sapientes, qui Pontificem comitabantur, cum
  • Pontificis ipsius temeritatem, cum abjectum vilemq; Johannis Pagoli
  • animum: nec causam intelligebant, ob quam permotus idem Pagolus, hostem
  • suum inermem (quod illi cum perpetua nominis sui memoria facere licebat)
  • non subitò oppresserit, et tam pretiosa spolia diripuerit; cum Pontifex
  • urbem ingressus fuisset, Cardinalibus tantum suis stipatus, qui
  • pretiosissimas quasq; suarum rerum secum habebant. Neque enim credebatur
  • Pagolus a tanto facinore vel sua bonitate, vel animi conscientia
  • abstinuisse: quod in hominem sceleratum, qui et propria sorore utebatur,
  • et consobrinos nepotesque dominandi causa e medio sustulerat hujusmodi
  • pii affectus cadere non viderentur. Cum igitur hac de re variæ essent
  • sapientum virorum sententiæ; concluserunt tandem id ei accidisse, quod
  • ita comparatum sit_, ut homines neque plane pravi esse queant, neque
  • perfecte boni. _Pravi perfecte esse nequeant, propterea quod, ubi tale
  • quoddam scelus est, in quo aliquid magnifici ac generosi insit, id
  • patrare non andeant. Nam cum Pagolus neq; incestam prius horraisset,
  • neque patricidio abstinnisset: tamen cnm oblata esset occasio, pravi
  • quidem sed memorabilis, atque æternæ memoriæ facinoris patrandi, id
  • attentare non ausus fuit, cum id sine infamia prestare licuisset, quod
  • rei magnitudo omnia priora scelera obtegere potuisset, et a periculo
  • conservare. Quibus accedit, quod illi gratulati fuissent etiam quam
  • plurimi, si primus ausus esset Pontificibus monstrare rationem
  • dominandi; totiusque humanæ vitæ usum ab illis nimis parei pendi._
  • _Poysons contain within themselves their own Antidote._] The Poyson of a
  • Scorpion is not Poyson to it self, nor the Poyson of a Toad is not
  • Poyson to it self; so that the sucking out of Poyson from persons
  • infected by Psylls, (who are continually nourished with venomous
  • aliment) without any prejudice to themselves, is the less to be wondred
  • at.
  • _The man without a Navil yet lives in me._] The Latine Annotator hath
  • explicated this by _Homo non perfectus_, by which it seems he did not
  • comprehend the Author's meaning; for the Author means _Adam_, and by a
  • Metonymie original sin; for the Navil being onely of use to attract the
  • aliment _in utero materno_, and _Adam_ having no mother, he had no use
  • of a Navil, and therefore it is not to be conceived he had any; and upon
  • that ground the Author calls him the man without a Navil.
  • _Sect. 11. Pag. 106._
  • _Our grosser memories have then so little hold of our abstracted
  • understandings, that they forget the story, and can onely relate to our
  • awaked senses a confused and broken tale of that that hath pass'd._] For
  • the most part it is so. In regard of the Author's expression of
  • forgetting the story, though otherwise it be not very pertinent to this
  • place, I shall set down a relation given by an English Gentleman, of two
  • dreams that he had, wherein he did not forget the story, but (what is
  • more strange) found his dreams verified. This it is.
  • Whilst I lived at _Prague_, and one night had sit up very late drinking
  • at a feast, early in the morning the Sun beams glancing on my face, as I
  • lay in my bed, I dreamed that a shadow passing by told me that my Father
  • was dead; at which awaking all in a sweat, and affected with this dream,
  • I rose and wrote the day and hour, and all circumstances thereof in a
  • Paper-book, which book with many other things I put into a Barrel, and
  • sent it from _Prague_ to _Stode_, thence to be conveyed into _England_.
  • And now being at _Nurenburgh_, a Merchant of a noble Family well
  • acquainted with me and my friends, arrived there, who told me my Father
  • dyed some two months ago. I list not to write any lyes, but that which I
  • write, is as true as strange. When I returned into _England_ some four
  • years after, I would not open the Barrel I sent from _Prague_, nor look
  • into the Paper-book in which I had written this dream, till I had called
  • my Sisters and some friends to be witnesses, where my self and they were
  • astonished to see my written dream answer the very day of my Father's
  • death.
  • I may lawfully swear that which my Kinsman hath heard witnessed by my
  • brother _Henry_ whilst he lived, that in my youth at _Cambridge_, I had
  • the like dream of my Mother's death, where my brother _Henry_ living
  • with me, early in the morning I dreamed that my Mother passed by with a
  • sad countenance, and told me that she could not come to my Commencement:
  • I being within five months to proceed Master of Arts, and she having
  • promised at that time to come to _Cambridge_. And when I related this
  • dream to my brother, both of us awaking together in a sweat, he
  • protested to me that he had dreamed the very same; and when we had not
  • the least knowledge of our Mother's sickness, neither in our youthful
  • affections were any whit affected with the strangeness of this dream,
  • yet the next Carrier brought us word of our Mother's death. Mr. _Fiennes
  • Morison_ in his Itinerary. I am not over-credulous of such relations,
  • but methinks the circumstance of publishing it at such a time, when
  • there were those living that might have disprov'd it, if it had been
  • false, is a great argument of the truth of it.
  • _Sect. 12. Pag. 107._
  • _I wonder the fancy of _Lucan_ and _Seneca_ did not discover it._] For
  • they had both power from _Nero_ to chuse their deaths.
  • _Sect. 13. Pag. 108._
  • _To conceive our selves Urinals is not so ridiculous._] _Reperti sunt
  • Galeno et Avicenna testibus qui se vasa fictilia crederent, et ideirco
  • hominum attactum ne confringerentur solicite fugerent._ Pontan. _in
  • Attic. bellar._ (_Hist. 22._) Which proceeds from extremity of
  • Melancholy.
  • _Pag. 109._
  • Aristot. _is too severe, that will not allow us to be truely liberal
  • without wealth._] _Aristot. l. 1. Ethic. c. 8._
  • _Sect. 15. Pag. 112._
  • _Thy will be done though in mine own undoing._] This should be the wish
  • of every man, and is of the most wise and knowing, _Le Christien plus
  • humble et plus sage et mieux recognoissant que c'est que de luy se
  • rapporte a son createur de choisir et ordonner ce qu'il luy faut. Il ne
  • le supplie dautre chose que sa volunte soit faite._ Montaign.
  • _A Letter sent upon the information of_ Animadversions _to come forth,
  • upon the imperfect and surreptitious copy of_ Religio Medici,
  • _whilst this true one was going to Press_.
  • Honoured Sir, Give your Servant, who hath ever honour'd you, leave to
  • take notice of a Book at present in the Press, intituled (as I am
  • informed) _Animadversions_ upon a Treatise lately printed under the name
  • of _Religio Medici_; hereof, I am advertised, you have descended to be
  • the Author. Worthy Sir, permit your Servant to affirm there is contain'd
  • therein nothing that can deserve the Reason of your Contradictions, much
  • less the Candor of your _Animadversions_: and to certifie the truth
  • thereof, That Book (whereof I do acknowledge myself the Author) was
  • penn'd many years past, and (what cannot escape your apprehension) with
  • no intention for the Press, or the least desire to oblige the Faith of
  • any man to its assertions. But what hath more especially emboldened my
  • Pen unto you at present, is, That the same Piece, contrived in my
  • private study, and as an Exercise unto my self, rather than Exercitation
  • for any other, having past from my hand under a broken and imperfect
  • Copy, by frequent transcription it still run forward into corruption,
  • and after the addition of some things, omission of others, &
  • transposition of many, without my assent or privacy, the liberty of
  • these times committed it unto the Press; whence it issued so disguised,
  • the Author without distinction could not acknowledge it. Having thus
  • miscarried, within a few weeks I shall, God willing, deliver unto the
  • Press the true and intended Original (whereof in the mean time your
  • worthy Self may command a view); otherwise when ever that Copy shall be
  • extant, it will most clearly appear how far the Text hath been mistaken,
  • and all Observations, Glosses, or Exercitations thereon, will in a great
  • part impugn the Printer or Transcriber, rather than the Author. If after
  • that, you shall esteem it worth your vacant hours to discourse thereon,
  • you shall but take that liberty which I assume my self, that is, freely
  • to abound in your sense, as I have done in my own. However you shall
  • determine, you shall sufficiently honour me in the Vouchsafe of your
  • Refute, and I oblige the whole World in the occasion of your Pen.
  • _Your Servant._
  • T. B.
  • Norwich, _March 3, 1642_.
  • TO THE READER
  • _Certainly that man were greedy of Life, who should desire to live when
  • all the world were at an end; and he must needs be very impatient, who
  • would repine at death in the society of all things that suffer under it.
  • Had not almost every man suffered by the Press or were not the tyranny
  • thereof become universal, I had not wanted reason for complaint: but in
  • times wherein I have lived to behold the highest perversion of that
  • excellent invention, the name of his Majesty defamed, the Honour of
  • Parliament depraved, the Writings of both depravedly, anticipatively,
  • counterfeitly imprinted; complaints may seem ridiculous in private
  • persons; and men of my condition may be as incapable of affronts, as
  • hopeless of their reparations. And truely had not the duty I owe unto
  • the importunity of friends, and the allegiance I must ever acknowledge
  • unto truth, prevailed with me; the inactivity of my disposition might
  • have made these sufferings continual, and time that brings other things
  • to light, should have satisfied me in the remedy of its oblivion. But
  • because things evidently false are not onely printed, but many things of
  • truth most falsely set forth, in this latter I could not but think my
  • self engaged. For though we have no power to redress the former, yet in
  • the other, reparation being within our selves, I have at present
  • represented unto the world a full and intended Copy of that Piece,
  • which was most imperfectly and surreptitiously published before._
  • _This, I confess, about seven years past, with some others of affinity
  • thereto, for my private exercise and satisfaction, I had at leisurable
  • hours composed; which being communicated unto one, it became common unto
  • many, and was by Transcription successively corrupted, untill it arrived
  • in a most depraved Copy at the Press. He that shall peruse that Work,
  • and shall take notice of sundry particularities and personal expressions
  • therein, will easily discern the intention was not publick: and being a
  • private Exercise directed to my self, what is delivered therein, was
  • rather a memorial unto me, than an Example or Rule unto any other: and
  • therefore if there be any singularity therein correspondent unto the
  • private conceptions of any man, it doth not advantage them: or if
  • dissentaneous thereunto, it no way overthrows them. It was penned in
  • such a place, and with such disadvantage, that (I protest) from the
  • first setting of pen unto paper, I had not the assistance of any good
  • Book, whereby to promote my invention, or relieve my memory; and
  • therefore there might be many real lapses therein, which others might
  • take notice of, and more than I suspected my self. It was set down many
  • years past, and was the sense of my conception at that time, not an
  • immutable Law unto my advancing judgement at all times; and therefore
  • there might be many things therein plausible unto my passed
  • apprehension, which are not agreeable until my present self. There are
  • many things delivered Rhetorically, many expressions therein meerly
  • Tropical, and as they best illustrate my intention; and therefore also
  • there are many things to be taken in a soft and flexible sense, and not
  • to be called unto the rigid test of Reason. Lastly, all that is
  • contained therein is in submission unto maturer discernments; and, as I
  • have declared, shall no further father them than the best and learned
  • judgments shall authorize them: under favour of which considerations I
  • have made its secrecy publick, and committed the truth thereof to every
  • Ingenuous Reader._
  • _THO. BROWNE._
  • RELIGIO MEDICI
  • SECT. 1
  • For my Religion, though there be several Circumstances that might
  • perswade the World I have none at all, as the general scandal of my
  • Profession, the natural course of my Studies, the indifferency of my
  • Behaviour and Discourse in matters of Religion, neither violently
  • Defending one, nor with that common ardour and contention Opposing
  • another; yet, in despight hereof, I dare, without usurpation, assume the
  • honourable Stile of a Christian. Not that I meerly owe this Title to the
  • Font, my Education, or Clime wherein I was born, as being bred up either
  • to confirm those Principles my parents instilled into my Understanding,
  • or by a general consent proceed in the Religion of my Country: But
  • having in my riper years and confirmed Judgment, seen and examined all,
  • I find my self obliged by the Principles of Grace, and the Law of mine
  • own Reason, to embrace no other name but this: Neither doth herein my
  • zeal so far make me forget the general Charity I owe unto Humanity, as
  • rather to hate than pity _Turks_, _Infidels_, and (what is worse)
  • _Jews_; rather contenting my self to enjoy that happy Stile, than
  • maligning those who refuse so glorious a Title.
  • SECT. 2
  • But because the Name of a Christian is become too general to express our
  • Faith, there being a Geography of Religion as well as Lands, and every
  • Clime distinguished not only by their Laws and Limits, but circumscribed
  • by their Doctrines and Rules of Faith; to be particular, I am of that
  • _Reformed_ new-cast Religion, wherein I dislike nothing but the Name; of
  • the same belief our Saviour taught, the Apostles disseminated, the
  • Fathers authorized, and the Martyrs confirmed, but by the sinister ends
  • of Princes, the ambition and avarice of Prelates, and the fatal
  • corruption of times, so decayed, impaired, and fallen from its native
  • Beauty, that it required the careful and charitable hands of these times
  • to restore it to its primitive Integrity. Now the accidental occasion
  • whereupon, the slender means whereby the low and abject condition of the
  • Person by whom so good a work was set on foot, which in our Adversaries
  • beget contempt and scorn, fills me with wonder, and is the very same
  • Objection the insolent Pagans first cast at Christ and his Disciples.
  • SECT. 3
  • Yet have I not so shaken hands with those desperate Resolutions, who had
  • rather venture at large their decayed bottom, than bring her in to be
  • new trimm'd in the Dock; who had rather promiscuously retain all, than
  • abridge any, and obstinately be what they are, than what they have been,
  • as to stand in Diameter and Swords point with them: We have reformed
  • from them, not against them; for omitting those Improperations and Terms
  • of Scurrility betwixt us, which only difference our Affections, and not
  • our Cause, there is between us one common Name and Appellation, one
  • Faith and necessary body of Principles common to us both; and therefore
  • I am not scrupulous to converse and live with them, to enter their
  • Churches in defect of ours, and either pray with them, or for them. I
  • could never perceive any rational Consequence from those many Texts
  • which prohibit the Children of _Israel_ to pollute themselves with the
  • Temples of the Heathens; we being all Christians, and not divided by
  • such detested impieties as might prophane our Prayers, or the place
  • wherein we make them; or that a resolved Conscience may not adore her
  • Creator any where, especially in places devoted to his Service; where,
  • if their Devotions offend him, mine may please him; if theirs prophane
  • it, mine may hallow it. Holy-water and Crucifix (dangerous to the common
  • people) deceive not my judgment, nor abuse my devotion at all: I am, I
  • confess, naturally inclined to that which misguided Zeal terms
  • Superstition: my common conversation I do acknowledge austere, my
  • behaviour full of rigour, sometimes not without morosity; yet at my
  • Devotion I love to use the civility of my knee, my hat, and hand, with
  • all those outward and sensible motions which may express or promote my
  • invisible Devotion. I should violate my own arm rather than a Church;
  • nor willingly deface the name of Saint or Martyr. At the sight of a
  • Cross or Crucifix I can dispense with my hat, but scarce with the
  • thought or memory of my Saviour: I cannot laugh at, but rather pity, the
  • fruitless journeys of Pilgrims, or contemn the miserable condition of
  • Fryars; for though misplaced in Circumstances there is something in it
  • of Devotion. I could never hear the _Ave-Mary_ Bell[7] without an
  • elevation, or think it a sufficient warrant, because they erred in one
  • circumstance, for me to err in all, that is, in silence and dumb
  • contempt; whilst therefore they directed their Devotions to Her, I
  • offered mine to God, and rectifie the Errors of their Prayers by rightly
  • ordering mine own: At a solemn Procession I have wept abundantly, while
  • my consorts blind with opposition and prejudice, have fallen into an
  • excess of scorn and laughter: There are questionless both in _Greek_,
  • _Roman_, and _African_ Churches, Solemnities and Ceremonies, whereof the
  • wiser Zeals do make a Christian use, and stand condemned by us, not as
  • evil in themselves, but as allurements and baits of superstition to
  • those vulgar heads that look asquint on the face of Truth, and those
  • unstable Judgments that cannot resist in the narrow point and centre of
  • Virtue without a reel or stagger to the Circumference.
  • [7] _A Church Bell that tolls every day at six and twelve of the clock;
  • at the hearing whereof, everyone in what place soever, either of
  • House or Street, betakes himself to his prayer, which is commonly
  • directed to the Virgin._
  • SECT. 4
  • As there were many Reformers, so likewise many Reformations; every
  • Country proceeding in a particular way and method, according as their
  • national Interest, together with their Constitution and Clime, inclined
  • them; some angrily, and with extremity; others calmly, and with
  • mediocrity; not rending, but easily dividing the community, and leaving
  • an honest possibility of a reconciliation; which though peaceable
  • Spirits do desire, and may conceive that revolution of time and the
  • mercies of God may effect, yet that judgment that shall continue the
  • present antipathies between the two extreams, their contrarieties in
  • condition, affection, and opinion, may with the same hopes expect an
  • union in the Poles of Heaven.
  • SECT. 5
  • But to difference my self nearer, and draw into a lesser Circle, There
  • is no Church, whose every part so squares unto my Conscience; whose
  • Articles, Constitutions, and Customs, seem so consonant unto reason, and
  • as it were framed to my particular Devotion, as this whereof I hold my
  • Belief, the Church of _England_, to whose Faith I am a sworn Subject;
  • and therefore in a double Obligation subscribe unto her Articles, and
  • endeavour to observe her Constitutions; whatsoever is beyond, as points
  • indifferent, I observe according to the rules of my private reason, or
  • the humour and fashion of my Devotion; neither believing this, because
  • _Luther_ affirmed it, or disproving that, because _Calvin_ hath
  • disavouched it. I condemn not all things in the Council of _Trent_, nor
  • approve all in the Synod of _Dort_. In brief, where the Scripture is
  • silent, the Church is my Text; where that speaks, 'tis but my Comment:
  • where there is a joynt silence of both, I borrow not the rules of my
  • Religion from _Rome_ or _Geneva_, but the dictates of my own reason. It
  • is an unjust scandal of our adversaries, and a gross errour in our
  • selves, to compute the Nativity of our Religion from _Henry_ the Eighth,
  • who, though he rejected the Pope, refus'd not the faith of _Rome_, and
  • effected no more than what his own Predecessors desired and assayed in
  • Ages past, and was conceived the State of _Venice_ would have attempted
  • in our days. It is as uncharitable a point in us to fall upon those
  • popular scurrilities and opprobrious scoffs of the Bishop of _Rome_, to
  • whom as a temporal Prince, we owe the duty of good language: I confess
  • there is cause of passion between us; by his sentence I stand
  • excommunicated, Heretick is the best language he affords me; yet can no
  • ear witness I ever returned him the name of Antichrist, Man of Sin, or
  • Whore of _Babylon_. It is the method of Charity to suffer without
  • reaction: Those usual Satyrs and invectives of the Pulpit may perchance
  • produce a good effect on the vulgar, whose ears are opener to Rhetorick
  • than Logick; yet do they in no wise confirm the faith of wiser
  • Believers, who know that a good cause needs not to be pardon'd by
  • passion, but can sustain it self upon a temperate dispute.
  • SECT. 6
  • I could never divide my self from any man upon the difference of an
  • opinion, or be angry with his judgment for not agreeing with me in that
  • from which perhaps within a few days I should dissent my self. I have no
  • Genius to disputes in Religion, and have often thought it wisdom to
  • decline them, especially upon a disadvantage, or when the cause of truth
  • might suffer in the weakness of my patronage: Where we desire to be
  • informed, 'tis good to contest with men above our selves; but to confirm
  • and establish our opinions, 'tis best to argue with judgments below our
  • own, that the frequent spoils and Victories over their reasons may
  • settle in ourselves an esteem and confirmed Opinion of our own. Every
  • man is not a proper Champion for Truth, nor fit to take up the Gauntlet
  • in the cause of Verity: Many, from the ignorance of these Maximes, and
  • an inconsiderate Zeal unto Truth, have too rashly charged the Troops of
  • Error, and remain as Trophies unto the enemies of Truth: A man may be in
  • as just possession of Truth as of a City, and yet be forced to
  • surrender; 'tis therefore far better to enjoy her with peace, than to
  • hazzard her on a battle: if therefore there rise any doubts in my way, I
  • do forget them, or at least defer them till my better setled judgement
  • and more manly reason be able to resolve them; for I perceive every
  • man's own reason is his best _Œdipus_, and will upon a reasonable
  • truce, find a way to loose those bonds wherewith the subtleties of error
  • have enchained our more flexible and tender judgements. In Philosophy,
  • where Truth seems double-fac'd, there is no man more Paradoxical than my
  • self: but in Divinity I love to keep the Road; and, though not in an
  • implicite, yet an humble faith, follow the great wheel of the Church, by
  • which I move, not reserving any proper Poles or motion from the Epicycle
  • of my own brain; by this means I leave no gap for Heresie, Schismes, or
  • Errors, of which at present I hope I shall not injure Truth to say I
  • have no taint or tincture: I must confess my greener studies have been
  • polluted with two or three, not any begotten in the latter Centuries,
  • but old and obsolete, such as could never have been revived, but by such
  • extravagant and irregular heads as mine: for indeed Heresies perish not
  • with their Authors, but, like the river _Arethusa_, though they lose
  • their currents in one place, they rise up again in another: One General
  • Council is not able to extirpate one single Heresie; it may be cancell'd
  • for the present; but revolution of time, and the like aspects from
  • Heaven, will restore it, when it will flourish till it be condemned
  • again. For as though there were a _Metempsuchosis_, and the soul of one
  • man passed into another; Opinions do find, after certain Revolutions,
  • men and minds like those that first begat them. To see ourselves again,
  • we need not look for Plato's year:[8] every man is not only himself;
  • there hath been many _Diogenes_, and as many _Timons_, though but few of
  • that name; men are liv'd over again, the world is now as it was in Ages
  • past; there was none then, but there hath been some one since that
  • Parallels him, and is, as it were, his revived self.
  • [8] _A revolution of certain thousand years, when all things should
  • return unto their former estate, and he be teaching again in his
  • School as when he delivered this Opinion._
  • SECT. 7
  • Now the first of mine was that of the _Arabians_, That the Souls of men
  • perished with their Bodies, but should yet be raised again at the last
  • day: not that I did absolutely conceive a mortality of the Soul; but if
  • that were, which Faith, not Philosophy hath yet throughly disproved, and
  • that both entred the grave together, yet I held the same conceit thereof
  • that we all do of the body, that it should rise again. Surely it is but
  • the merits of our unworthy Natures, if we sleep in darkness until the
  • last Alarm. A serious reflex upon my own unworthiness did make me
  • backward from challenging this prerogative of my Soul; so that I might
  • enjoy my Saviour at the last, I could with patience be nothing almost
  • unto Eternity. The second was that of _Origen_, That God would not
  • persist in his vengeance for ever, but after a definite time of his
  • wrath, he would release the damned Souls from torture: which error I
  • fell into upon a serious contemplation of the great Attribute of God,
  • his Mercy; and did a little cherish it in my self, because I found
  • therein no malice, and a ready weight to sway me from the other extream
  • of despair, whereunto Melancholy and Contemplative Natures are too
  • easily disposed. A third there is which I did never positively maintain
  • or practise, but have often wished it had been consonant to Truth, and
  • not offensive to my Religion, and that is the Prayer for the dead;
  • whereunto I was inclin'd from some charitable inducements, whereby I
  • could scarce contain my Prayers for a friend at the ringing of a Bell,
  • or behold his Corps without an Orison for his Soul: 'Twas a good way,
  • methought, to be remembred by posterity, and far more noble than an
  • History. These opinions I never maintained with pertinacy, or
  • endeavoured to inveagle any mans belief unto mine, nor so much as ever
  • revealed or disputed them with my dearest friends; by which means I
  • neither propagated them in others, nor confirmed them in my self; but
  • suffering them to flame upon their own substance, without addition of
  • new fuel, they went out insensibly of themselves: therefore these
  • Opinions, though condemned by lawful Councels, were not Heresies in me,
  • but bare Errors, and single Lapses of my understanding, without a joynt
  • depravity of my will: Those have not onely depraved understandings, but
  • diseased affections, which cannot enjoy a singularity without an
  • Heresie, or be the Author of an Opinion without they be of a Sect also;
  • this was the villany of the first Schism of _Lucifer_, who was not
  • content to err alone, but drew into his Faction many Legions; and upon
  • this experience he tempted only _Eve_, as well understanding the
  • Communicable nature of Sin, and that to deceive but one, was tacitely
  • and upon consequence to delude them both.
  • SECT. 8
  • That Heresies should arise, we have the Prophesie of Christ; but that
  • old ones should be abolished, we hold no prediction. That there must be
  • Heresies, is true, not only in our Church, but also in any other: even
  • in doctrines heretical, there will be super-heresies; and Arians not
  • only divided from their Church, but also among themselves: for heads
  • that are disposed unto Schism and complexionally propense to innovation,
  • are naturally disposed for a community; nor will be ever confined unto
  • the order or œconomy of one body; and therefore when they separate
  • from others, they knit but loosely among themselves, nor contented with
  • a general breach or dichotomy with their Church, do subdivide and mince
  • themselves almost into Atoms. 'Tis true, that men of singular parts and
  • humours have not been free from singular opinions and conceits in all
  • Ages; retaining something, not only beside the opinion of his own Church
  • or any other, but also any particular Author; which notwithstanding a
  • sober Judgment may do without offence or heresie; for there is yet,
  • after all the Decrees of Councils and the niceties of Schools, many
  • things untouch'd, unimagin'd, wherein the liberty of an honest reason
  • may play and expatiate with security, and far without the circle of an
  • Heresie.
  • SECT. 9
  • As for those wingy Mysteries in Divinity, and airy subtleties in
  • Religion, which have unhing'd the brains of better heads, they never
  • stretched the _Pia Mater_ of mine. Methinks there be not impossibilities
  • enough in Religion for an active faith; the deepest Mysteries ours
  • contains have not only been illustrated, but maintained, by Syllogism
  • and the rule of Reason. I love to lose my self in a mystery, to pursue
  • my Reason to an _O altitudo!_ 'Tis my solitary recreation to pose my
  • apprehension with those involved Ænigma's and riddles of the Trinity,
  • with Incarnation, and Resurrection. I can answer all the Objections of
  • Satan and my rebellious reason with that odd resolution I learned of
  • _Tertullian, Certum est quia impossibile est_. I desire to exercise my
  • faith in the difficultest point; for to credit ordinary and visible
  • objects is not faith, but perswasion. Some believe the better for
  • seeing Christ's Sepulchre; and when they have seen the Red Sea, doubt
  • not of the Miracle. Now contrarily, I bless my self and am thankful that
  • I lived not in the days of Miracles, that I never saw Christ nor His
  • Disciples; I would not have been one of those _Israelites_ that pass'd
  • the Red Sea, nor one of Christ's patients on whom he wrought his
  • wonders; then had my faith been thrust upon me, nor should I enjoy that
  • greater blessing pronounced to all that believe and saw not. 'Tis an
  • easie and necessary belief, to credit what our eye and sense hath
  • examined: I believe he was dead, and buried, and rose again; and desire
  • to see him in his glory, rather than to contemplate him in his Cenotaphe
  • or Sepulchre. Nor is this much to believe; as we have reason, we owe
  • this faith unto History: they only had the advantage of a bold and noble
  • Faith, who lived before his coming, who upon obscure prophesies and
  • mystical Types could raise a belief, and expect apparent
  • impossibilities.
  • SECT. 10
  • 'Tis true, there is an edge in all firm belief, and with an easie
  • Metaphor we may say, the Sword of Faith; but in these obscurities I
  • rather use it in the adjunct the Apostle gives it, a Buckler; under
  • which I conceive a wary combatant may lye invulnerable. Since I was of
  • understanding to know we knew nothing, my reason hath been more pliable
  • to the will of Faith; I am now content to understand a mystery without a
  • rigid definition, in an easie and Platonick description. That[9]
  • allegorical description of _Hermes_, pleaseth me beyond all the
  • Metaphysical definitions of Divines; where I cannot satisfie my reason,
  • I love to humour my fancy: I had as live you tell me that _anima est
  • angelus hominis, est Corpus Dei_, as _Entelechia; Lux est umbra Dei_, as
  • _actus perspicui_; where there is an obscurity too deep for our Reason,
  • 'tis good to sit down with a description, periphrasis, or adumbration;
  • for by acquainting our Reason how unable it is to display the visible
  • and obvious effects of nature, it becomes more humble and submissive
  • unto the subtleties of Faith; and thus I teach my haggard and
  • unreclaimed reason to stoop unto the lure of Faith. I believe there was
  • already a tree whose fruit our unhappy Parents tasted, though, in the
  • same Chapter when God forbids it, 'tis positively said, the plants of
  • the field were not yet grown, for God had not caus'd it to rain upon the
  • earth. I believe that the Serpent (if we shall literally understand it)
  • from his proper form and figure, made his motion on his belly before the
  • curse. I find the tryal of the Pucellage and virginity of Women, which
  • God ordained the _Jews_, is very fallible. Experience and History
  • informs me, that not onely many particular Women, but likewise whole
  • Nations have escaped the curse of Childbirth, which God seems to
  • pronounce upon the whole Sex; yet do I believe that all this is true,
  • which indeed my Reason would perswade me to be false; and this I think
  • is no vulgar part of Faith, to believe a thing not only above, but
  • contrary to Reason, and against the Arguments of our proper Senses.
  • [9] _Sphæra cujus centrum ubique, circumferentia nullibi._
  • SECT. 11
  • In my solitary and retired imagination (_Neque enim cum porticus, aut me
  • lectulus accepit, desum mihi_) I remember I am not alone, and therefore
  • forget not to contemplate him and his Attributes who is ever with me,
  • especially those two mighty ones, his Wisdom and Eternity; with the one
  • I recreate, with the other I confound my understanding: for who can
  • speak of Eternity without a solœcism, or think thereof without an
  • Extasie? Time we may comprehend; 'tis but five days elder then our
  • selves, and hath the same Horoscope with the World; but to retire so far
  • back as to apprehend a beginning, to give such an infinite start
  • forwards as to conceive an end in an essence that we affirm hath neither
  • the one nor the other, it puts my Reason to _St. Paul's_ Sanctuary: my
  • Philosophy dares not say the Angels can do it; God hath not made a
  • Creature that can comprehend him; 'tis a privilege of His own nature. _I
  • am that I am_, was his own definition unto _Moses_; and 'twas a short
  • one, to confound mortality, that durst question God, or ask him what he
  • was; indeed he onely is; all others have and shall be; but in Eternity
  • there is no distinction of Tenses; and therefore that terrible term
  • _Predestination_, which hath troubled so many weak heads to conceive,
  • and the wisest to explain, is in respect to God no prescious
  • determination of our Estates to come, but a definitive blast of his Will
  • already fulfilled, and at the instant that he first decreed it; for to
  • his Eternity which is indivisible and all together, the last Trump is
  • already sounded, the reprobates in the flame, and the blessed in
  • _Abraham's_ bosome. _St. Peter_ speaks modestly, when he saith, a
  • thousand years to God are but as one day: for to speak like a
  • Philosopher, those continued instances of time which flow into a
  • thousand years, make not to Him one moment; what to us is to come, to
  • his Eternity is present, his whole duration being but one permanent
  • point, without Succession, Parts, Flux, or Division.
  • SECT. 12
  • There is no Attribute that adds more difficulty to the mystery of the
  • Trinity, where, though in a relative way of Father and Son, we must deny
  • a priority. I wonder how _Aristotle_ could conceive the World eternal,
  • or how he could make good two Eternities: his similitude of a Triangle,
  • comprehended in a square, doth somewhat illustrate the Trinity of our
  • Souls, and that the Triple Unity of God; for there is in us not three,
  • but a Trinity of Souls, because there is in us, if not three distinct
  • Souls, yet differing faculties, that can and do subsist apart in
  • different Subjects, and yet in us are thus united as to make but one
  • Soul and substance: if one Soul were so perfect as to inform three
  • distinct Bodies, that were a pretty Trinity: conceive, the distinct
  • number of three, not divided nor separated by the Intellect, but
  • actually comprehended in its Unity, and that is a perfect Trinity. I
  • have often admired the mystical way of _Pythagoras_, and the secret
  • Magick of numbers. Beware of Philosophy, is a precept not to be received
  • in too large a sense; for in this Mass of Nature there is a set of
  • things that carry in their Front, though not in Capital Letters, yet in
  • Stenography and short Characters, something of Divinity, which to wiser
  • Reasons serve as Luminaries in the Abyss of Knowledge, and to judicious
  • beliefs as Scales and Roundles to mount the Pinacles and highest pieces
  • of Divinity. The severe Schools shall never laugh me out of the
  • Philosophy of _Hermes_, that this visible World is but a Picture of the
  • invisible, wherein as in a Pourtraict, things are not truely, but in
  • equivocal shapes, and as they counterfeit some more real substance in
  • that invisible Fabrick.
  • SECT. 13
  • That other Attribute wherewith I recreate my devotion, is his Wisdom, in
  • which I am happy; and for the contemplation of this only, do not repent
  • me that I was bred in the way of Study: The advantage I have of the
  • vulgar, with the content and happiness I conceive therein, is an ample
  • recompence for all my endeavours, in what part of knowledge soever.
  • Wisdom is his most beauteous Attribute, no man can attain unto it, yet
  • _Solomon_ pleased God when he desired it. He is wise, because he knows
  • all things; and he knoweth all things, because he made them all: but his
  • greatest knowledge is in comprehending that he made not, that is,
  • himself. And this is also the greatest knowledge in man. For this do I
  • honour my own profession, and embrace the Counsel even of the Devil
  • himself: had he read such a Lecture in Paradise as he did at
  • _Delphos_,[10] we had better known our selves; nor had we stood in fear
  • to know him. I know he is wise in all, wonderful in what we conceive,
  • but far more in what we comprehend not; for we behold him but asquint,
  • upon reflex or shadow; our understanding is dimmer than _Moses_ Eye; we
  • are ignorant of the back-parts or lower side of his Divinity; therefore
  • to prie into the maze of his Counsels is not only folly in man, but
  • presumption even in Angels; like us, they are his Servants, not his
  • Senators; he holds no Counsel, but that mystical one of the Trinity,
  • wherein though there be three Persons, there is but one mind that
  • decrees without Contradiction: nor needs he any; his actions are not
  • begot with deliberation, his Wisdom naturally knows what's best; his
  • intellect stands ready fraught with the superlative and purest _Idea's_
  • of goodness; consultation and election, which are two motions in us,
  • make but one in him; his actions springing from his power at the first
  • touch of his will. These are Contemplations Metaphysical: my humble
  • speculations have another Method, and are content to trace and discover
  • those expressions he hath left in his Creatures, and the obvious effects
  • of Nature; there is no danger to profound these mysteries, no _sanctum
  • sanctorum_ in Philosophy: the World was made to be inhabited by Beasts,
  • but studied and contemplated by Man: 'tis the Debt of our Reason we owe
  • unto God, and the homage we pay for not being Beasts; without this, the
  • World is still as though it had not been, or as it was before the sixth
  • day, when as yet there was not a Creature that could conceive, or say
  • there was a World. The wisdom of God receives small honour from those
  • vulgar Heads that rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity admire
  • his works; those highly magnifie him, whose judicious inquiry into His
  • Acts, and deliberate research into His Creatures, return the duty of a
  • devout and learned admiration. Therefore,
  • Search while thou wilt, and let thy reason go,
  • To ransome truth, even to th' Abyss below;
  • Rally the scattered Causes; and that line
  • Which Nature twists, be able to untwine
  • It is thy Makers will, for unto none,
  • But unto reason can he e'er be known.
  • The Devils do know Thee, but those damn'd Meteors
  • Build not thy Glory, but confound thy Creatures.
  • Teach my indeavours so thy works to read,
  • That learning them in thee, I may proceed.
  • Give thou my reason that instructive flight,
  • Whose weary wings may on thy hands still light.
  • Teach me to soar aloft, yet ever so,
  • When neer the Sun, to stoop again below.
  • Thus shall my humble Feathers safely hover,
  • And, though near Earth, more than the Heavens discover
  • And then at last, when homeward I shall drive,
  • Rich with the Spoils of nature to my hive,
  • There will I sit like that industrious Flie,
  • Buzzing thy praises, which shall never die,
  • Till death abrupts them, and succeeding Glory
  • Bid me go on in a more lasting story.
  • And this is almost all wherein an humble Creature may endeavour to
  • requite and some way to retribute unto his Creator: for if not he that
  • saith, _Lord, Lord_, but _he that doth the will of his Father, shall be
  • saved_; certainly our wills must be our performances, and our intents
  • make out our Actions; otherwise our pious labours shall find anxiety in
  • our Graves, and our best endeavours not hope, but fear a resurrection.
  • [10] Γνῶθι σεαυτὸν, Nosce teipsum.
  • SECT. 14
  • There is but one first cause, and four second causes of all things; some
  • are without efficient, as God; others without matter, as Angels; some
  • without form, as the first matter: but every Essence created or
  • uncreated, hath its final cause, and some positive end both of its
  • Essence and Operation; this is the cause I grope after in the works of
  • Nature; on this hangs the providence of God: to raise so beauteous a
  • structure as the World and the Creatures thereof, was but his Art; but
  • their sundry and divided operations, with their predestinated ends, are
  • from the Treasure of his wisdom. In the causes, nature, and affections
  • of the Eclipses of the Sun and Moon, there is most excellent
  • speculation; but to profound farther, and to contemplate a reason why
  • his providence hath so disposed and ordered their motions in that vast
  • circle as to conjoyn and obscure each other, is a sweeter piece of
  • Reason, and a diviner point of Philosophy; therefore sometimes, and in
  • some things, there appears to me as much Divinity in _Galen_ his books
  • _De Usu Partium_, as in _Suarez_ Metaphysicks: Had _Aristotle_ been as
  • curious in the enquiry of this cause as he was of the other, he had not
  • left behind him an imperfect piece of Philosophy, but an absolute tract
  • of Divinity.
  • SECT. 15
  • _Natura nihil aget frustra_, is the only indisputed Axiome in
  • Philosophy; there are no _Grotesques_ in nature; not any thing framed to
  • fill up empty Cantons, and unnecessary spaces: in the most imperfect
  • Creatures, and such as were not preserved in the Ark, but having their
  • Seeds and Principles in the womb of Nature, are every where, where the
  • power of the Sun is; in these is the Wisdom of his hand discovered. Out
  • of this rank _Solomon_ chose the object of his admiration; indeed what
  • reason may not go to School to the wisdom of Bees, Ants, and Spiders?
  • what wise hand teacheth them to do what reason cannot teach us? ruder
  • heads stand amazed at those prodigious pieces of Nature, Whales,
  • Elephants, Dromidaries and Camels; these, I confess, are the Colossus
  • and Majestick pieces of her hand: but in these narrow Engines there is
  • more curious Mathematicks; and the civility of these little Citizens,
  • more neatly sets forth the Wisdom of their Maker. Who admires not
  • _Regio-Montanus_ his Fly beyond his Eagle, or wonders not more at the
  • operation of two Souls in those little Bodies, than but one in the Trunk
  • of a Cedar? I could never content my contemplation with those general
  • pieces of wonder, the Flux and Reflux of the Sea, the increase of
  • _Nile_, the conversion of the Needle to the North; and have studied to
  • match and parallel those in the more obvious and neglected pieces of
  • Nature, which without further trouble I can do in the Cosmography of my
  • self; we carry with us the wonders we seek without us: There is all
  • _Africa_ and her prodigies in us; we are that bold and adventurous piece
  • of nature, which he that studies wisely learns in a _compendium_ what
  • others labour at in a divided piece and endless volume.
  • SECT. 16
  • Thus there are two Books from which I collect my Divinity; besides that
  • written one of God, another of his servant Nature, that universal and
  • publick Manuscript, that lies expans'd unto the Eyes of all, those that
  • never saw him in the one, have discovered him in the other: this was the
  • Scripture and Theology of the Heathens: the natural motion of the Sun
  • made them more admire him, than its supernatural station did the
  • Children of _Israel_; the ordinary effects of nature wrought more
  • admiration in them than in the other all his Miracles; surely the
  • Heathens knew better how to joyn and read these mystical Letters than we
  • Christians, who cast a more careless Eye on these common Hieroglyphicks,
  • and disdain to suck Divinity from the flowers of Nature. Nor do I so
  • forget God as to adore the name of Nature; which I define not with the
  • Schools, to be the principle of motion and rest, but that streight and
  • regular line, that settled and constant course the Wisdom of God hath
  • ordained the actions of His creatures, according to their several kinds.
  • To make a revolution every day, is the Nature of the Sun, because of
  • that necessary course which God hath ordained it, from which it cannot
  • swerve but by a faculty from that voice which first did give it motion.
  • Now this course of Nature God seldome alters or perverts, but like an
  • excellent Artist hath so contrived his work, that with the self same
  • instrument, without a new creation, he may effect his obscurest designs.
  • Thus he sweetneth the Water with a Word, preserveth the Creatures in the
  • Ark, which the blast of his mouth might have as easily created; for God
  • is like a skilful Geometrician, who when more easily and with one stroak
  • of his Compass he might describe or divide a right line, had yet rather
  • do this in a circle or longer way; according to the constituted and
  • fore-laid principles of his Art: yet this rule of his he doth sometimes
  • pervert, to acquaint the World with his Prerogative, lest the arrogancy
  • of our reason should question his power, and conclude he could not; and
  • thus I call the effects of Nature the works of God, whose hand and
  • instrument she only is; and therefore to ascribe his actions unto her,
  • is to devolve the honour of the principal agent upon the instrument;
  • which if with reason we may do, then let our hammers rise up and boast
  • they have built our houses, and our pens receive the honour of our
  • writings. I hold there is a general beauty in the works of God, and
  • therefore no deformity in any kind or species of creature whatsoever: I
  • cannot tell by what Logick we call a _Toad_, a _Bear_, or an _Elephant_
  • ugly, they being created in those outward shapes and figures which best
  • express the actions of their inward forms. And having past that general
  • Visitation of God, who saw that all that he had made was good, that is,
  • conformable to his Will, which abhors deformity, and is the rule of
  • order and beauty; there is no deformity but in Monstrosity; wherein,
  • notwithstanding, there is a kind of Beauty. Nature so ingeniously
  • contriving the irregular parts, as they become sometimes more remarkable
  • than the principal Fabrick. To speak yet more narrowly, there was never
  • any thing ugly or mis-shapen, but the Chaos; wherein, notwithstanding,
  • to speak strictly, there was no deformity, because no form; nor was it
  • yet impregnant by the voice of God; now Nature was not at variance with
  • Art, nor Art with Nature, they being both servants of his providence:
  • Art is the perfection of Nature: were the World now as it was the sixth
  • day, there were yet a Chaos: Nature hath made one World, and Art
  • another. In brief, all things are artificial; for Nature is the Art of
  • God.
  • SECT. 17
  • This is the ordinary and open way of his providence, which Art and
  • Industry have in a good part discovered, whose effects we may foretel
  • without an Oracle: to foreshew these, is not Prophesie, but
  • Prognostication. There is another way, full of Meanders and Labyrinths,
  • whereof the Devil and Spirits have no exact Ephemerides, and that is a
  • more particular and obscure method of his providence, directing the
  • operations of individuals and single Essences: this we call Fortune,
  • that serpentine and crooked line, whereby he draws those actions his
  • wisdom intends, in a more unknown and secret way: This cryptick and
  • involved method of his providence have I ever admired, nor can I relate
  • the History of my life, the occurrences of my days, the escapes of
  • dangers, and hits of chance, with a _Bezo las Manos_ to Fortune, or a
  • bare Gramercy to my good Stars: _Abraham_ might have thought the _Ram_
  • in the thicket came thither by accident; humane reason would have said,
  • that meer chance conveyed _Moses_ in the Ark to the sight of _Pharoh's_
  • daughter: what a Labyrinth is there in the story of _Joseph_, able to
  • convert a Stoick? Surely there are in every man's Life certain rubs,
  • doublings, and wrenches, which pass a while under the effects of chance,
  • but at the last well examined, prove the meer hand of God. 'Twas not
  • dumb chance, that to discover the Fougade or Powder-plot, contrived a
  • miscarriage in the Letter. I like the victory of 88. the better for that
  • one occurrence, which our enemies imputed to our dishonour and the
  • partiality of Fortune, to wit, the tempests and contrariety of Winds.
  • King _Philip_ did not detract from the Nation, when he said, he sent his
  • Armado to fight with men, and not to combate with the Winds. Where there
  • is a manifest disproportion between the powers and forces of two several
  • agents, upon a Maxime of reason we may promise the Victory to the
  • Superiour; but when unexpected accidents slip in, and unthought of
  • occurences intervene, these must proceed from a power that owes no
  • obedience to those Axioms; where, as in the writing upon the wall, we
  • may behold the hand, but see not the spring that moves it. The success
  • of that petty province of _Holland_ (of which the Grand _Seignour_
  • proudly said, if they should trouble him as they did the _Spaniard_, he
  • would send his men with shovels and pick-axes, and throw it into the
  • Sea,) I cannot altogether ascribe to the ingenuity and industry of the
  • people, but the mercy of God, that hath disposed them to such a thriving
  • Genius; and to the will of his Providence, that disposeth her favour to
  • each Country in their pre-ordinate season. All cannot be happy at once;
  • for, because the glory of one State depends upon the ruine of another,
  • there is a revolution and vicissitude of their greatness, and must obey
  • the swing of that wheel, not moved by Intelligences, but by the hand of
  • God, whereby all Estates arise to their _Zenith_ and Vertical points
  • according to their predestinated periods. For the lives, not only of
  • men, but of Commonwealths, and the whole World, run not upon an Helix
  • that still enlargeth; but on a Circle, where arriving to their Meridian,
  • they decline in obscurity, and fall under the Horizon again.
  • SECT. 18
  • These must not therefore he named the effects of Fortune, but in a
  • relative way, and as we term the works of Nature: it was the ignorance
  • of mans reason that begat this very name, and by a careless term
  • miscalled the Providence of God: for there is no liberty for causes to
  • operate in a loose and stragling way; nor any effect whatsoever, but
  • hath its warrant from some universal or superiour Cause. 'Tis not a
  • ridiculous devotion to say a prayer before a game at Tables; for even in
  • _sortilegies_ and matters of greatest uncertainty, there is a setled and
  • preordered course of effects. It is we that are blind, not Fortune:
  • because our Eye is too dim to discover the mystery of her effects, we
  • foolishly paint her blind, and hoodwink the Providence of the Almighty.
  • I cannot justifie that contemptible Proverb, _That fools only are
  • Fortunate_; or that insolent Paradox, _That a wise man is out of the
  • reach of Fortune_; much less those opprobrious epithets of Poets,
  • _Whore_, _Bawd_, and _Strumpet_. 'Tis, I confess, the common fate of men
  • of singular gifts of mind to be destitute of those of Fortune, which
  • doth not any way deject the Spirit of wiser judgements, who throughly
  • understand the justice of this proceeding; and being inrich'd with
  • higher donatives, cast a more careless eye on these vulgar parts of
  • felicity. It is a most unjust ambition to desire to engross the mercies
  • of the Almighty, not to be content with the goods of mind, without a
  • possession of those of body or Fortune: and it is an error worse than
  • heresie, to adore these complemental and circumstantial pieces of
  • felicity, and undervalue those perfections and essential points of
  • happiness wherein we resemble our Maker. To wiser desires it is
  • satisfaction enough to deserve, though not to enjoy the favours of
  • Fortune; let Providence provide for Fools: 'tis not partiality, but
  • equity in God, who deals with us but as our natural Parents; those that
  • are able of Body and Mind, he leaves to their deserts; to those of
  • weaker merits he imparts a larger portion, and pieces out the defect of
  • one, by the access of the other. Thus have we no just quarrel with
  • Nature, for leaving us naked; or to envy the Horns, Hoofs, Skins, and
  • Furs of other Creatures, being provided with Reason, that can supply
  • them all. We need not labour with so many Arguments to confute Judicial
  • Astrology; for if there be a truth therein, it doth not injure Divinity:
  • if to be born under _Mercury_ disposeth us to be witty, under _Jupiter_
  • to be wealthy; I do not owe a Knee unto those, but unto that merciful
  • Hand that hath ordered my indifferent and uncertain nativity unto such
  • benevolous Aspects. Those that hold that all things are governed by
  • Fortune, had not erred, had they not persisted there: The _Romans_ that
  • erected a temple to Fortune, acknowledged therein, though in a blinder
  • way, somewhat of Divinity; for in a wise supputation all things begin
  • and end in the Almighty. There is a nearer way to Heaven than _Homer's_
  • Chain; an easy Logick may conjoin heaven and Earth, in one Argument, and
  • with less than a _Sorites_ resolve all things into God. For though we
  • christen effects by their most sensible and nearest Causes, yet is God
  • the true and infallible Cause of all, whose concourse though it be
  • general, yet doth it subdivide it self into the particular Actions of
  • every thing, and is that Spirit, by which each singular Essence not only
  • subsists, but performs its operation.
  • SECT. 19
  • The bad construction, and perverse comment on these pair of second
  • Causes, or visible hands of God, have perverted the Devotion of many
  • unto Atheism; who, forgetting the honest Advisoes of Faith, have
  • listened unto the conspiracy of Passion and Reason. I have therefore
  • always endeavoured to compose those Feuds and angry Dissensions between
  • Affection, Faith and Reason: For there is in our Soul a kind of
  • Triumvirate, or triple Government of three Competitors, which distracts
  • the Peace of this our Common-wealth, not less than did that other the
  • State of _Rome_.
  • As Reason is a Rebel unto Faith, so Passion unto Reason: As the
  • Propositions of Faith seem absurd unto Reason, so the Theorems of Reason
  • unto Passion, and both unto Reason; yet a moderate and peaceable
  • discretion may so state and order the matter, that they may be all
  • Kings, and yet make but one Monarchy, every one exercising his
  • Soveraignty and Prerogative in a due time and place, according to the
  • restraint and limit of circumstance. There is, as in Philosophy, so in
  • Divinity, sturdy doubts and boisterous Objections, wherewith the
  • unhappiness of our knowledge too nearly acquainteth us. More of these no
  • man hath known than my self, which I confess I conquered, not in a
  • martial posture, but on my Knees. For our endeavours are not only to
  • combat with doubts, but always to dispute with the Devil: the villany of
  • that Spirit takes a hint of Infidelity from our Studies, and by
  • demonstrating a naturality in one way, makes us mistrust a miracle in
  • another. Thus having perused the _Archidoxes_ and read the secret
  • Sympathies of things, he would disswade my belief from the miracle of
  • the Brazen Serpent, make me conceit that Image worked by Sympathy, and
  • was but an _Ægyptian_ trick to cure their Diseases without a miracle.
  • Again, having seen some experiments of _Bitumen_, and having read far
  • more of _Naphtha_, he whispered to my curiosity the fire of the Altar
  • might be natural; and bid me mistrust a miracle in _Elias_, when he
  • entrenched the Altar round with Water: for that inflamable substance
  • yields not easily unto Water, but flames in the Arms of its Antagonist.
  • And thus would he inveagle my belief to think the combustion of _Sodom_
  • might be natural, and that there was an Asphaltick and Bituminous nature
  • in that Lake before the Fire of _Gomorrah_. I know that _Manna_ is now
  • plentifully gathered in _Calabria_; and _Josephus_ tells me, in his days
  • it was as plentiful in _Arabia_; the Devil therefore made the _quære_,
  • Where was then the miracle in the days of _Moses_: the _Israelite_ saw
  • but that in his time, the Natives of those Countries behold in ours.
  • Thus the Devil played at Chess with me, and yielding a Pawn, thought to
  • gain a Queen of me, taking advantage of my honest endeavours; and whilst
  • I laboured to raise the structure of my Reason, he strived to undermine
  • the edifice of my Faith.
  • SECT. 20
  • Neither had these or any other ever such advantage of me, as to incline
  • me to any point of Infidelity or desperate positions of Atheism; for I
  • have been these many years of opinion there was never any. Those that
  • held was the difference of Man from Beasts, have spoken probably, and
  • proceed upon a principle as inductive as the other. That doctrine of
  • _Epicurus_, that denied the Providence of God, was no Atheism, but a
  • magnificent and high strained conceit of his Majesty, which he deemed
  • too sublime to mind the trivial Actions of those inferiour Creatures.
  • That fatal Necessity of the Stoicks, is nothing but the immutable Law of
  • his will. Those that heretofore denied the Divinity of the Holy Ghost,
  • have been condemned, but as Hereticks; and those that now deny our
  • Saviour (though more than Hereticks) are not so much as Atheists: for
  • though they deny two persons in the Trinity, they hold as we do, there
  • is but one God.
  • That Villain and Secretary of Hell, that composed that miscreant piece
  • of the Three Impostors, though divided from all Religions, and was
  • neither Jew, Turk, nor Christian, was not a positive Atheist. I confess
  • every country hath its _Machiavel_, every Age its _Lucian_, whereof
  • common Heads must not hear, nor more advanced Judgments too rashly
  • venture on: It is the Rhetorick of Satan, and may pervert a loose or
  • prejudicate belief.
  • SECT. 21
  • I confess I have perused them all, and can discover nothing that may
  • startle a discreet belief; yet are there heads carried off with the Wind
  • and breath of such motives. I remember a Doctor in Physick of _Italy_,
  • who could not perfectly believe the immortality of the Soul, because
  • _Galen_ seemed to make a doubt thereof. With another I was familiarly
  • acquainted in _France_, a Divine, and a man of singular parts, that on
  • the same point was so plunged and gravelled with [11]three lines of
  • _Seneca_, that all our Antidotes, drawn from both Scripture and
  • Philosophy, could not expel the poyson of his errour. There are a set of
  • Heads, that can credit the relations of Mariners, yet question the
  • Testimonies of St. _Paul_; and peremptorily maintain the traditions of
  • _Ælian_ or _Pliny_, yet in Histories of Scripture raise Queries and
  • Objections, believing no more than they can parallel in humane Authors.
  • I confess there are in Scripture Stories that do exceed the Fables of
  • Poets, and to a captious Reader sound like _Garagantua_ or _Bevis_:
  • Search all the Legends of times past, and the fabulous conceits of these
  • present, and 'twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry the
  • Buckler unto _Sampson_; yet is all this of an easie possibility, if we
  • conceive a divine concourse, or an influence but from the little Finger
  • of the Almighty. It is impossible that either in the discourse of man,
  • or in the infallible Voice of God, to the weakness of our apprehensions,
  • there should not appear irregularities, contradictions, and antinomies:
  • my self could shew a Catalogue of doubts, never yet imagined nor
  • questioned, as I know, which are not resolved at the first hearing; not
  • fantastick Queries or Objections of Air; for I cannot hear of Atoms in
  • Divinity. I can read the History of the Pigeon that was sent out of the
  • Ark, and returned no more, yet not question how she found out her Mate
  • that was left behind: That _Lazarus_ was raised from the dead, yet not
  • demand where in the interim his Soul awaited; or raise a Law-case,
  • whether his Heir might lawfully detain his inheritance bequeathed unto
  • him by his death, and he, though restored to life, have no Plea or Title
  • unto his former possessions. Whether _Eve_ was framed out of the left
  • side of _Adam_, I dispute not; because I stand not yet assured which is
  • the right side of a man, or whether there be any such distinction in
  • Nature: that she was edified out of the Rib of _Adam_, I believe, yet
  • raise no question who shall arise with that Rib at the Resurrection.
  • Whether _Adam_ was an Hermaphrodite, as the Rabbins contend upon the
  • Letter of the Text, because it is contrary to reason, there should be an
  • Hermaphrodite before there was a Woman; or a composition of two Natures
  • before there was a second composed. Likewise, whether the World was
  • created in Autumn, Summer, or the Spring, because it was created in them
  • all; for whatsoever Sign the Sun possesseth, those four Seasons are
  • actually existent: It is the Nature of this Luminary to distinguish the
  • several Seasons of the year, all which it makes at one time in the whole
  • Earth, and successive in any part thereof. There are a bundle of
  • curiosities, not only in Philosophy, but in Divinity, proposed and
  • discussed by men of most supposed abilities, which indeed are not worthy
  • our vacant hours, much less our serious Studies. Pieces only fit to be
  • placed in _Pantagruel's_ Library, or bound up with Tartaretus, _De modo
  • Cacandi_. [SN: _In Rabbelais._]
  • [11] _Post Mortem nihil est, ipsaque Mors nihil. Mors individua est,
  • noxia corpori, nec patiens animæ ... Toti morimur, nullaque pars
  • manet nostri._
  • SECT. 22
  • These are niceties that become not those that peruse so serious a
  • Mystery: There are others more generally questioned and called to the
  • Bar, yet methinks of an easie and possible truth.
  • 'Tis ridiculous to put off, or down the general Flood of _Noah_ in that
  • particular inundation of _Deucalion_: that there was a Deluge once,
  • seems not to me so great a Miracle, as that there is not one always. How
  • all the kinds of Creatures, not only in their own bulks, but with a
  • competency of food and sustenance, might be preserved in one Ark, and
  • within the extent of three hundred Cubits, to a reason that rightly
  • examines it, will appear very feasible. There is another secret not
  • contained in the Scripture, which is more hard to comprehend, and put
  • the honest Father to the refuge of a Miracle: and that is, not only how
  • the distinct pieces of the World, and divided Islands should be first
  • planted by men, but inhabited by Tigers, Panthers, and Bears. How
  • _America_ abounded with Beasts of prey, and noxious Animals, yet
  • contained not in it that necessary Creature, a Horse, is very strange.
  • By what passage those, not only Birds, but dangerous and unwelcome
  • Beasts, came over: How there be Creatures there (which are not found in
  • this Triple Continent); all which must needs be strange unto us, that
  • hold but one Ark, and that the Creatures began their progress from the
  • Mountains of _Ararat_: They who to salve this would make the Deluge
  • particular, proceed upon a principle that I can no way grant; not only
  • upon the negative of holy Scriptures, but of mine own Reason, whereby I
  • can make it probable, that the World was as well peopled in the time of
  • _Noah_, as in ours; and fifteen hundred years to people the World, as
  • full a time for them, as four thousand years since have been to us.
  • There are other assertions and common Tenents drawn from Scripture, and
  • generally believed as Scripture, whereunto notwithstanding, I would
  • never betray the liberty of my Reason. 'Tis a Paradox to me, that
  • _Methusalem_ was the longest liv'd of all the Children of _Adam_: and no
  • man will be able to prove it; when from the process of the Text, I can
  • manifest it may be otherwise. That _Judas_ perished by hanging himself,
  • there is no certainty in Scripture: though in one place it seems to
  • affirm it, and by a doubtful word hath given occasion to translate it;
  • yet in another place, in a more punctual description, it makes it
  • improbable, and seems to overthrow it. That our Fathers, after the
  • Flood, erected the Tower of _Babel_ to preserve themselves against a
  • second Deluge, is generally opinioned and believed, yet is there another
  • intention of theirs expressed in Scripture: Besides, it is improbable
  • from the circumstance of the place, that is, a plain in the Land of
  • _Shinar_: These are no points of Faith, and therefore may admit a free
  • dispute. There are yet others, and those familiarly concluded from the
  • Text, wherein (under favour) I see no consequence: the Church of _Rome_,
  • confidently proves the opinion of Tutelary Angels, from that Answer when
  • _Peter_ knockt at the Door; _'Tis not he, but his Angel_; that is, might
  • some say, his Messenger, or some body from him; for so the Original
  • signifies, and is as likely to be the doubtful Families meaning. This
  • exposition I once suggested to a young Divine, that answered upon this
  • point; to which I remember the _Franciscan_ Opponent replyed no more,
  • but That it was a new, and no authentick interpretation.
  • SECT. 23
  • These are but the conclusions and fallible discourses of man upon the
  • Word of God, for such I do believe the holy Scriptures: yet were it of
  • man, I could not chuse but say, it was the singularest and superlative
  • piece that hath been extant since the Creation: were I a Pagan, I should
  • not refrain the Lecture of it; and cannot but commend the judgment of
  • _Ptolomy_, that thought not his Library compleat without it. The Alcoran
  • of the _Turks_ (I speak without prejudice) is an ill composed Piece,
  • containing in it vain and ridiculous Errors in Philosophy,
  • impossibilities, fictions, and vanities beyond laughter, maintained by
  • evident and open Sophisms, the Policy of Ignorance, deposition of
  • Universities, and banishment of Learning, that hath gotten Foot by Arms
  • and violence: This without a blow, hath disseminated it self through the
  • whole Earth. It is not unremarkable what _Philo_ first observed, That
  • the Law of _Moses_ continued two thousand years without the least
  • alteration; whereas, we see, the Laws of other Common-weals do alter
  • with occasions; and even those, that pretended their Original from some
  • Divinity, to have vanished without trace or memory. I believe besides
  • _Zoroaster_, there were divers that writ before _Moses_, who,
  • notwithstanding, have suffered the common fate of time. Mens Works have
  • an age like themselves; and though they out-live their Authors, yet have
  • they a stint and period to their duration: This only is a work too hard
  • for the teeth of time, and cannot perish but in the general Flames, when
  • all things shall confess their Ashes.
  • SECT. 24
  • I have heard some with deep sighs lament the lost lines of _Cicero_;
  • others with as many groans deplore the combustion of the Library of
  • _Alexandria_: for my own part, I think there be too many in the World,
  • and could with patience behold the urn and ashes of the _Vatican_, could
  • I, with a few others, recover the perished leaves of _Solomon_. I would
  • not omit a Copy of _Enoch's_ Pillars, had they many nearer Authors than
  • _Josephus_, or did not relish somewhat of the Fable. Some men have
  • written more than others have spoken; [12]_Pineda_ quotes more Authors in
  • one work, than are necessary in a whole World. Of those three great
  • inventions in _Germany_, there are two which are not without their
  • incommodities, and 'tis disputable whether they exceed not their use
  • and commodities. 'Tis not a melancholy _Utinam_ of my own, but the
  • desires of better heads, that there were a general Synod; not to unite
  • the incompatible difference of Religion, but for the benefit of
  • learning, to reduce it as it lay at first, in a few, and solid Authors;
  • and to condemn to the fire those swarms & millions of _Rhapsodies_
  • begotten only to distract and abuse the weaker judgements of Scholars,
  • and _to maintain the trade and mystery of Typographers_.
  • [12] Pineda _in his_ Monarchica Ecclesiastica _quotes one thousand
  • and forty Authors_.
  • SECT. 25
  • I cannot but wonder with what exception the _Samaritans_ could confine
  • their belief to the _Pentateuch_, or five Books of _Moses_. I am ashamed
  • at the Rabbinical Interpretation of the Jews, upon the Old Testament, as
  • much as their defection from the New. And truly it is beyond wonder, how
  • that contemptible and degenerate issue of _Jacob_, once so devoted to
  • Ethnick Superstition, and so easily seduced to the Idolatry of their
  • Neighbours, should now in such an obstinate and peremptory belief adhere
  • unto their own Doctrine, expect impossibilities, and, in the face and
  • eye of the Church, persist without the least hope of Conversion. This is
  • a vice in them, that were a vertue in us; for obstinacy in a bad Cause
  • is but constancy in a good. And herein I must accuse those of my own
  • Religion; for there is not any of such a fugitive Faith, such an
  • unstable belief, as a Christian; none that do so oft transform
  • themselves, not unto several shapes of Christianity and of the same
  • Species, but unto more unnatural and contrary Forms, of Jew and
  • Mahometan; that, from the name of Saviour, can condescend to the bare
  • term of Prophet; and from an old belief that he is come, fall to a new
  • expectation of his coming. It is the promise of Christ to make us all
  • one Flock; but how and when this Union shall be, is as obscure to me as
  • the last day. Of those four Members of Religion we hold a slender
  • proportion; there are, I confess, some new additions, yet small to those
  • which accrew to our Adversaries, and those only drawn from the revolt of
  • Pagans, men but of negative Impieties, and such as deny Christ, but
  • because they never heard of him: but the Religion of the Jew is
  • expressly against the Christian, and the Mahometan against both. For the
  • Turk, in the bulk he now stands, he is beyond all hope of conversion; if
  • he fall asunder, there may be conceived hopes, but not without strong
  • improbabilities. The Jew is obstinate in all fortunes; the persecution
  • of fifteen hundred years hath but confirmed them in their Errour: they
  • have already endured whatsoever may be inflicted, and have suffered, in
  • a bad cause, even to the condemnation of their enemies. Persecution is a
  • bad and indirect way to plant Religion: It hath been the unhappy method
  • of angry Devotions, not only to confirm honest Religion, but wicked
  • Heresies, and extravagant Opinions. It was the first stone and Basis of
  • our Faith; none can more justly boast of Persecutions, and glory in the
  • number and valour of Martyrs; for, to speak properly, those are true and
  • almost only examples of fortitude: Those that are fetch'd from the
  • field, or drawn from the actions of the Camp, are not oft-times so
  • truely precedents of valour as audacity, and at the best attain but to
  • some bastard piece of fortitude: If we shall strictly examine the
  • circumstances and requisites which _Aristotle_ requires to true and
  • perfect valour, we shall find the name only in his Master _Alexander_,
  • and as little in that Roman Worthy, _Julius Cæsar_; and if any, in that
  • easie and active way have done so nobly as to deserve that name, yet in
  • the passive and more terrible piece these have surpassed, and in a more
  • heroical way may claim the honour of that Title. 'Tis not in the power
  • of every honest Faith to proceed thus far, or pass to Heaven through the
  • flames; every one hath it not in that full measure, nor in so audacious
  • and resolute a temper, as to endure those terrible tests and trials; who
  • notwithstanding, in a peaceable way do truely adore their Saviour, and
  • have (no doubt) a Faith acceptable in the eyes of God.
  • SECT. 26
  • Now as all that dye in the War are not termed Souldiers; so neither can
  • I properly term all those that suffer in matters of Religion, Martyrs.
  • The Council of _Constance_ condemns _John Huss_ for an Heretick; the
  • Stories of his own Party stile him a Martyr: He must needs offend the
  • Divinity of both, that says he was neither the one nor the other: There
  • are many (questionless) canonised on earth, that shall never be Saints
  • in Heaven; and have their names in Histories and Martyrologies, who in
  • the eyes of God are not so perfect Martyrs, as was that wise Heathen
  • _Socrates_, that suffered on a fundamental point of Religion, the Unity
  • of God. I have often pitied the miserable Bishop that suffered in the
  • cause of _Antipodes_, yet cannot chuse but accuse him of as much
  • madness, for exposing his living on such a trifle; as those of ignorance
  • and folly, that condemned him. I think my conscience will not give me
  • the lye, if I say there are not many extant that in a noble way fear the
  • face of death less than myself; yet, from the moral duty I owe to the
  • Commandment of God, and the natural respects that I tender unto the
  • conservation of my essence and being, I would not perish upon a
  • Ceremony, Politick points, or indifferency: nor is my belief of that
  • untractible temper, as not to bow at their obstacles, or connive at
  • matters wherein there are not manifest impieties: The leaven therefore
  • and ferment of all, not only Civil, but Religious actions, is Wisdom;
  • without which, to commit our selves to the flames is Homicide, and (I
  • fear) but to pass through one fire into another.
  • SECT. 27
  • That Miracles are ceased, I can neither prove, nor absolutely deny, much
  • less define the time and period of their cessation: that they survived
  • Christ, is manifest upon the Record of Scripture: that they out-lived
  • the Apostles also, and were revived at the Conversion of Nations, many
  • years after, we cannot deny, if we shall not question those Writers
  • whose testimonies we do not controvert in points that make for our own
  • opinions; therefore that may have some truth in it that is reported by
  • the Jesuites of their Miracles in the _Indies_; I could wish it were
  • true, or had any other testimony than their own Pens. They may easily
  • believe those Miracles abroad, who daily conceive a greater at home, the
  • transmutation of those visible elements into the Body and Blood of our
  • Saviour: for the conversion of Water into Wine, which he wrought in
  • _Cana_, or what the Devil would have had him done in the Wilderness, of
  • Stones into Bread, compared to this, will scarce deserve the name of a
  • Miracle. Though indeed to speak properly, there is not one Miracle
  • greater than another, they being the extraordinary effects of the Hand
  • of God, to which all things are of an equal facility; and to create the
  • World as easie as one single Creature. For this is also a Miracle, not
  • onely to produce effects against, or above Nature, but before Nature;
  • and to create Nature as great a Miracle as to contradict or transcend
  • her. We do too narrowly define the Power of God, restraining it to our
  • capacities. I hold that God can do all things; how he should work
  • contradictions, I do not understand, yet dare not therefore deny. I
  • cannot see why the Angel of God should question _Esdras_ to recal the
  • time past, if it were beyond his own power; or that God should pose
  • mortality in that, which he was not able to perform himself. I will not
  • say God cannot, but he will not perform many things, which we plainly
  • affirm he cannot: this I am sure is the mannerliest proposition,
  • wherein, notwithstanding, I hold no Paradox. For strictly his power is
  • the same with his will, and they both with all the rest do make but one
  • God.
  • SECT. 28
  • Therefore that Miracles have been, I do believe; that they may yet be
  • wrought by the living, I do not deny: but have no confidence in those
  • which are fathered on the dead; and this hath ever made me suspect the
  • efficacy of reliques, to examine the bones, question the habits and
  • appurtenances of Saints, and even of Christ himself. I cannot conceive
  • why the Cross that _Helena_ found, and whereon Christ himself dyed,
  • should have power to restore others unto life: I excuse not
  • _Constantine_ from a fall off his Horse, or a mischief from his enemies,
  • upon the wearing those nails on his bridle, which our Saviour bore upon
  • the Cross in his hands. I compute among _Piæ fraudes_, nor many degrees
  • before consecrated Swords and Roses, that which _Baldwyn_, King of
  • _Jerusalem_, return'd the _Genovese_ for their cost and pains in his
  • War, to wit, the ashes of _John_ the Baptist. Those that hold the
  • sanctity of their Souls doth leave behind a tincture and sacred faculty
  • on their bodies, speak naturally of Miracles, and do not salve the
  • doubt. Now one reason I tender so little Devotion unto Reliques, is, I
  • think, the slender and doubtful respect I have always held unto
  • Antiquities: for that indeed which I admire, is far before Antiquity,
  • that is, Eternity; and that is, God himself; who, though he be styled
  • the ancient of days, cannot receive the adjunct of Antiquity, who was
  • before the World, and shall be after it, yet is not older than it; for
  • in his years there is no Climacter; his duration is Eternity, and far
  • more venerable than Antiquity.
  • SECT. 29
  • But above all things I wonder how the curiosity of wiser heads could
  • pass that great and indisputable Miracle, the cessation of Oracles; and
  • in what swoun their Reasons lay, to content themselves, and sit down
  • with such a far-fetch'd and ridiculous reason as _Plutarch_ alleadgeth
  • for it. The Jews, that can believe the supernatural Solstice of the Sun
  • in the days of _Joshua_, have yet the impudence to deny the Eclipse,
  • which every Pagan confessed, at his death: but for this, it is evident
  • beyond all contradiction,[13] the Devil himself confessed it. Certainly
  • it is not a warrantable curiosity, to examine the verity of Scripture by
  • the concordance of humane history, or seek to confirm the Chronicle of
  • _Hester_ or _Daniel_ by the authority of _Megasthenes_ or _Herodotus_. I
  • confess, I have had an unhappy curiosity this way, till I laughed my
  • self out of it with a piece of _Justine_, where he delivers that the
  • Children of _Israel_ for being scabbed were banished out of _Egypt_. And
  • truely since I have understood the occurrences of the World, and know in
  • what counterfeit shapes, and deceitful vizards times present represent
  • on the stage things past; I do believe them little more then things to
  • come. Some have been of my opinion, and endeavoured to write the History
  • of their own lives; wherein _Moses_ hath outgone them all, and left not
  • onely the story of his life, but as some will have it, of his death
  • also.
  • [13] _In his Oracle to_ Augustus.
  • SECT. 30
  • It is a riddle to me, how this story of Oracles hath not worm'd out of
  • the World that doubtful conceit of Spirits and Witches; how so many
  • learned heads should so far forget their Metaphysicks, and destroy the
  • ladder and scale of creatures, as to question the existence of Spirits:
  • for my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that there are
  • Witches: they that doubt of these, do not onely deny them, but spirits;
  • and are obliquely and upon consequence a sort not of Infidels, but
  • Atheists. Those that to confute their incredulity desire to see
  • apparitions, shall questionless never behold any, nor have the power to
  • be so much as Witches; the Devil hath them already in a heresie as
  • capital as Witchcraft; and to appear to them, were but to convert them.
  • Of all the delusions wherewith he deceives mortality, there is not any
  • that puzleth me more than the Legerdemain of _Changelings_; I do not
  • credit those transformations of reasonable creatures into beasts, or
  • that the Devil hath a power to transpeciate a man into a Horse, who
  • tempted Christ (as a trial of his Divinity) to convert but stones into
  • bread. I could believe that Spirits use with man the act of carnality,
  • and that in both sexes; I conceive they may assume, steal, or contrive a
  • body, wherein there may be action enough to content decrepit lust, or
  • passion to satisfie more active veneries; yet in both, without a
  • possibility of generation: and therefore that opinion that Antichrist
  • should be born of the Tribe of _Dan_, by conjunction with the Devil, is
  • ridiculous, and a conceit fitter for a Rabbin than a Christian. I hold
  • that the Devil doth really possess some men, the spirit of Melancholly
  • others, the spirit of Delusion others; that as the Devil is concealed
  • and denyed by some, so God and good Angels are pretended by others
  • whereof the late defection of the Maid of _Germany_ hath left a pregnant
  • example.
  • Sect. 31
  • Again, I believe that all that use sorceries, incantations, and spells,
  • are not Witches, or, as we term them, Magicians; I conceive there is a
  • traditional Magick, not learned immediately from the Devil, but at
  • second hand from his Scholars, who having once the secret betrayed, are
  • able, and do emperically practise without his advice, they both
  • proceeding upon the principles of Nature; where actives, aptly conjoyned
  • to disposed passives, will under any Master produce their effects. Thus
  • I think at first a great part of Philosophy was Witchcraft, which being
  • afterward derived to one another, proved but Philosophy, and was indeed
  • no more but the honest effects of Nature: What invented by us is
  • Philosophy, learned from him is Magick. We do surely owe the discovery
  • of many secrets to the discovery of good and bad Angels. I could never
  • pass that sentence of _Paracelsus_, without an asterisk, or annotation;
  • [14]_Ascendens constellatum multa revelat, quærentibus magnalia naturæ_,
  • i.e. _opera Dei_. I do think that many mysteries ascribed to our own
  • inventions, have been the courteous revelations of Spirits; for those
  • noble essences in Heaven bear a friendly regard unto their fellow
  • Natures on Earth; and therefore believe that those many prodigies and
  • ominous prognosticks, which fore-run the ruines of States, Princes, and
  • private persons, are the charitable premonitions of good Angels, which
  • more careless enquiries term but the effects of chance and nature.
  • [14] _Thereby is meant out good Angel appointed us from our Nativity._
  • SECT. 32
  • Now, besides these particular and divided Spirits, there may be (for
  • ought I know) an universal and common Spirit to the whole World. It was
  • the opinion of _Plato_, and it is yet of the _Hermetical_ Philosophers:
  • if there be a common nature that unites and tyes the scattered and
  • divided individuals into one species, why may there not be one that
  • unites them all? However, I am sure there is a common Spirit that plays
  • within us, yet makes no part of us; and that is the Spirit of God, the
  • fire and scintillation of that noble and mighty Essence, which is the
  • life and radical heat of Spirits, and those essences that know not the
  • vertue of the Sun, a fire quite contrary to the fire of Hell: This is
  • that gentle heat that broodeth on the waters, and in six days hatched
  • the World; this is that irradiation that dispels the mists of Hell, the
  • clouds of horrour, fear, sorrow, despair; and preserves the region of
  • the mind in serenity: Whatsoever feels not the warm gale and gentle
  • ventilation of this Spirit, (though I feel his pulse) I dare not say he
  • lives; for truely without this, to me there is no heat under the
  • Tropick; nor any light, though I dwelt in the body of the Sun.
  • _As when the labouring Sun hath wrought his track
  • Up to the top of lofty_ Cancers _back,
  • The ycie Ocean cracks, the frozen pole
  • Thaws with the heat of the Celestial coale;
  • So when thy absent beams begin t' impart
  • Again a Solstice on my frozen heart,
  • My winter 's ov'r; my drooping spirits sing,
  • And every part revives into a Spring.
  • But if thy quickening beams a while decline,
  • And with their light bless not this Orb of mine,
  • A chilly frost surpriseth every member,
  • And in the midst of_ June _I feel_ December.
  • _O how this earthly temper doth debase
  • The noble Soul in this her humble place.
  • Whose wingy nature ever doth aspire
  • To reach that place whence first it took its fire.
  • These flames I feel, which in my heart do dwell,
  • Are not thy beams, but take their fire from Hell.
  • O quench them all, and let thy light divine
  • Be as the Sun to this poor Orb of mine;
  • And to thy sacred Spirit convert those fires,
  • Whose earthly fumes choak my devout aspires._
  • SECT. 33
  • Therefore for Spirits, I am so far from denying their existence, that I
  • could easily believe, that not onely whole Countries, but particular
  • persons, have their Tutelary and Guardian Angels: It is not a new
  • opinion of the Church of _Rome_, but an old one of _Pythagoras_ and
  • _Plato_; there is no heresie in it; and if not manifestly defin'd in
  • Scripture, yet is it an opinion of a good and wholesome use in the
  • course and actions of a mans life, and would serve as an _Hypothesis_ to
  • salve many doubts, whereof common Philosophy affordeth no solution. Now
  • if you demand my opinion and Metaphysicks of their natures, I confess
  • them very shallow, most of them in a negative way, like that of God; or
  • in a comparative, between our selves and fellow-creatures; for there is
  • in this Universe a Stair, or manifest Scale of creatures, rising not
  • disorderly, or in confusion, but with a comely method and proportion.
  • Between creatures of meer existence and things of life, there is a large
  • disproportion of nature; between plants and animals or creatures of
  • sense, a wider difference; between them and man, a far greater: and if
  • the proportion hold one, between Man and Angels there should be yet a
  • greater. We do not comprehend their natures, who retain the first
  • definition of _Porphyry_, and distinguish them from our selves by
  • immortality; for before his Fall, 'tis thought, Man also was Immortal;
  • yet must we needs affirm that he had a different essence from the
  • Angels; having therefore no certain knowledge of their Natures, 'tis no
  • bad method of the Schools, whatsoever perfection we find obscurely in
  • our selves, in a more compleat and absolute way to ascribe unto them. I
  • believe they have an extemporary knowledge, and upon the first motion of
  • their reason do what we cannot without study or deliberation; that they
  • know things by their forms, and define by specifical difference what we
  • describe by accidents and properties; and therefore probabilities to us
  • may be demonstrations unto them: that they have knowledge not onely of
  • the specifical, but numerical forms of individuals, and understand by
  • what reserved difference each single _Hypostasis_ (besides the relation
  • to its species) becomes its numerical self. That as the Soul hath a
  • power to move the body it informs, so there's a faculty to move any,
  • though inform none; ours upon restraint of time, place, and distance;
  • but that invisible hand that conveyed _Habakkuk_ to the Lyons Den, or
  • _Philip_ to _Azotus_, infringeth this rule, and hath a secret
  • conveyance, wherewith mortality is not acquainted: if they have that
  • intuitive knowledge, whereby as in reflexion they behold the thoughts of
  • one another, I cannot peremptorily deny but they know a great part of
  • ours. They that to refute the Invocation of Saints, have denied that
  • they have any knowledge of our affairs below, have proceeded too far,
  • and must pardon my opinion, till I can thoroughly answer that piece of
  • Scripture, _At the conversion of a sinner the Angels in Heaven rejoyce._
  • I cannot with those in that great Father securely interpret the work of
  • the first day, _Fiat lux_, to the creation of Angels, though I confess
  • there is not any creature that hath so neer a glympse of their nature,
  • as light in the Sun and Elements. We stile it a bare accident, but where
  • it subsists alone, 'tis a spiritual Substance, and may be an Angel: in
  • brief, conceive light invisible, and that is a Spirit.
  • SECT. 34
  • These are certainly the Magisterial and master-pieces of the Creator,
  • the Flower, or (as we may say) the best part of nothing, actually
  • existing, what we are but in hopes and probability; we are onely that
  • amphibious piece between a corporal and spiritual Essence, that middle
  • form that links those two together, and makes good the Method of God and
  • Nature, that jumps not from extreams, but unites the incompatible
  • distances by some middle and participating natures: that we are the
  • breath and similitude of God, it is indisputable, and upon record of
  • holy Scripture; but to call ourselves a Microcosm, or little World, I
  • thought it only a pleasant trope of Rhetorick, till my neer judgement
  • and second thoughts told me there was a real truth therein: for first we
  • are a rude mass, and in the rank of creatures, which onely are, and
  • have a dull kind of being, not yet privileged with life, or preferred to
  • sense or reason; next we live the life of Plants, the life of Animals,
  • the life of Men, and at last the life of Spirits, running on in one
  • mysterious nature those five kinds of existences, which comprehend the
  • creatures not onely of the World, but of the Universe; thus is man that
  • great and true _Amphibium_, whose nature is disposed to live not onely
  • like other creatures in divers elements, but in divided and
  • distinguished worlds: for though there be but one to sense, there are
  • two to reason, the one visible, the other invisible, whereof _Moses_
  • seems to have left description, and of the other so obscurely, that some
  • parts thereof are yet in controversie. And truely for the first chapters
  • of _Genesis_, I must confess a great deal of obscurity; though Divines
  • have to the power of humane reason endeavoured to make all go in a
  • literal meaning, yet those allegorical interpretations are also
  • probable, and perhaps the mystical method of _Moses_ bred up in the
  • Hieroglyphical Schools of the Egyptians.
  • SECT. 35
  • Now for that immaterial world, methinks we need not wander so far as
  • beyond the first moveable; for even in this material Fabrick the spirits
  • walk as freely exempt from the affection of time, place, and motion, as
  • beyond the extreamest circumference: do but extract from the corpulency
  • of bodies, or resolve things beyond their first matter, and you discover
  • the habitation of Angels, which if I call the ubiquitary and omnipresent
  • essence of God, I hope I shall not offend Divinity: for before the
  • Creation of the World God was really all things. For the Angels he
  • created no new World, or determinate mansion, and therefore they are
  • everywhere where is his Essence, and do live at a distance even in
  • himself. That God made all things for man, is in some sense true, yet
  • not so far as to subordinate the Creation of those purer Creatures unto
  • ours, though as ministring Spirits they do, and are willing to fulfil
  • the will of God in these lower and sublunary affairs of man: God made
  • all things for himself, and it is impossible he should make them for any
  • other end than his own Glory; it is all he can receive, and all that is
  • without himself: for honour being an external adjunct, and in the
  • honourer rather than in the person honoured, it was necessary to make a
  • Creature, from whom he might receive this homage; and that is in the
  • other world Angels, in this, Man; which when we neglect, we forget the
  • very end of our Creation, and may justly provoke God, not onely to
  • repent that he hath made the World, but that he hath sworn he would not
  • destroy it. That there is but one World, is a conclusion of Faith.
  • _Aristotle_ with all his Philosophy hath not been able to prove it, and
  • as weakly that the world was eternal; that dispute much troubled the Pen
  • of the Philosophers, but _Moses_ decided that question, and all is
  • salved with the new term of a Creation, that is, a production of
  • something out of nothing; and what is that? Whatsoever is opposite to
  • something; or more exactly, that which is truely contrary unto God; for
  • he onely is, all others have an existence with dependency, and are
  • something but by a distinction; and herein is Divinity conformant unto
  • Philosophy, and generation not onely founded on contrarieties, but also
  • creation; God being all things, is contrary unto nothing, out of which
  • were made all things, and so nothing became something, and _Omneity_
  • informed _Nullity_ into an Essence.
  • SECT. 36
  • The whole Creation is a Mystery, and particularly that of Man; at the
  • blast of his mouth were the rest of the Creatures made, and at his bare
  • word they started out of nothing: but in the frame of Man (as the Text
  • describes it) he played the sensible operator, and seemed not so much to
  • create, as make him; when he had separated the materials of other
  • creatures, there consequently resulted a form and soul; but having
  • raised the walls of man, he has driven to a second and harder creation
  • of a substance like himself, an incorruptible and immortal Soul. For
  • these two affections we have the Philosophy and opinion of the Heathens,
  • the flat affirmative of _Plato_, and not a negative from _Aristotle_:
  • there is another scruple cast in by Divinity (concerning its production)
  • much disputed in the _Germane_ auditories, and with that indifferency
  • and equality of arguments, as leave the controversie undetermined. I am
  • not of _Paracelsus_ mind, that boldly delivers a receipt to make a man
  • without conjunction; yet cannot but wonder at the multitude of heads
  • that do deny traduction, having no other argument to confirm their
  • belief, then that Rhetorical sentence, and _Antimetathesis_ of
  • _Augustine_, _Creando infunditur, infundendo creatur_: either opinion
  • will consist well enough with Religion; yet I should rather incline to
  • this, did not one objection haunt me, not wrung from speculations and
  • subtilties, but from common sense and observation; not pickt from the
  • leaves of any Author, but bred amongst the weeds and tares of mine own
  • brain: And this is a conclusion from the equivocal and monstrous
  • productions in the copulation of Man with Beast: for if the Soul of man
  • be not transmitted, and transfused in the seed of the Parents, why are
  • not those productions meerly beasts, but have also an impression and
  • tincture of reason in as high a measure, as it can evidence it self in
  • those improper Organs? Nor truely can I peremptorily deny, that the Soul
  • in this her sublunary estate, is wholly, and in all acceptions
  • inorganical, but that for the performance of her ordinary actions, there
  • is required not onely a symmetry and proper disposition of Organs, but a
  • Crasis and temper correspondent to its operations. Yet is not this mass
  • of flesh and visible structure the instrument and proper corps of the
  • Soul, but rather of Sense, and that the hand of Reason. In our study of
  • Anatomy there is a mass of mysterious Philosophy, and such as reduced
  • the very Heathens to Divinity: yet amongst all those rare discourses,
  • and curious pieces I find in the Fabrick of man, I do not so much
  • content my self, as in that I find not, there is no Organ or Instrument
  • for the rational soul: for in the brain, which we term the seat of
  • reason, there is not any thing of moment more than I can discover in the
  • crany of a beast: and this is a sensible and no inconsiderable argument
  • of the inorganity of the Soul, at least in that sense we usually so
  • conceive it. Thus we are men, and we know not how; there is something in
  • us that can be without us, and will be after us, though it is strange
  • that it hath no history, what it was before us, nor cannot tell how it
  • entred in us.
  • SECT. 37
  • Now for these walls of flesh, wherein the Soul doth seem to be immured,
  • before the Resurrection, it is nothing but an elemental composition, and
  • a Fabrick that must fall to ashes. _All flesh is grass_, is not onely
  • metaphorically, but litterally, true; for all those creatures we
  • behold, are but the herbs of the field, digested into flesh in them, or
  • more remotely carnified in our selves. Nay further, we are what we all
  • abhor, _Anthropophagi_ and Cannibals, devourers not onely of men, but of
  • our selves; and that not in an allegory, but a positive truth: for all
  • this mass of flesh which we behold, came in at our mouths; this frame we
  • look upon, hath been upon our trenchers; in brief, we have devour'd our
  • selves. I cannot believe the wisdom of _Pythagoras_ did ever positively,
  • and in a literal sense, affirm his _Metempsychosis_, or impossible
  • transmigration of the Souls of men into beasts: of all Metamorphoses, or
  • transmigrations, I believe only one, that is of _Lots_ wife; for that of
  • _Nebuchodonosor_ proceeded not so far; in all others I conceive there is
  • no further verity than is contained in their implicite sense and
  • morality. I believe that the whole frame of a beast doth perish, and is
  • left in the same state after death as before it was materialled unto
  • life; that the souls of men know neither contrary nor corruption; that
  • they subsist beyond the body, and outlive death by the priviledge of
  • their proper natures, and without a Miracle; that the Souls of the
  • faithful, as they leave Earth, take possession of Heaven: that those
  • apparitions and ghosts of departed persons are not the wandring souls of
  • men, but the unquiet walks of Devils, prompting and suggesting us unto
  • mischief, blood, and villany; instilling and stealing into our hearts
  • that the blessed spirits are not at rest in their graves, but wander
  • sollicitous of the affairs of the World; but that those phantasms appear
  • often, and do frequent Cœmeteries, Charnel-houses, and Churches, it
  • is because those are the dormitories of the dead, where the Devil like
  • an insolent Champion beholds with pride the spoils and Trophies of his
  • Victory over _Adam_.
  • SECT. 38
  • This is that dismal conquest we all deplore, that makes us so often cry
  • _(O) Adam, quid fecisti_? I thank God I have not those strait ligaments,
  • or narrow obligations to the World, as to dote on life, or be convulst
  • and tremble at the name of death: Not that I am insensible of the dread
  • and horrour thereof, or by raking into the bowels of the deceased,
  • continual sight of Anatomies, Skeletons, or Cadaverous reliques, like
  • Vespilloes, or Gravemakers, I am become stupid, or have forgot the
  • apprehension of Mortality; but that marshalling all the horrours, and
  • contemplating the extremities thereof, I find not any thing therein able
  • to daunt the courage of a man, much less a well-resolved Christian: And
  • therefore am not angry at the errour of our first Parents, or unwilling
  • to bear a part of this common fate, and like the best of them to dye,
  • that is, to cease to breathe, to take a farewel of the elements, to be a
  • kind of nothing for a moment, to be within one instant of a spirit. When
  • I take a full view and circle of my self, without this reasonable
  • moderator, and equal piece of Justice, Death, I do conceive my self the
  • miserablest person extant; were there not another life that I hope for,
  • all the vanities of this World should not intreat a moment's breath from
  • me: could the Devil work my belief to imagine I could never dye, I would
  • not outlive that very thought; I have so abject a conceit of this common
  • way of existence, this retaining to the Sun and Elements, I cannot think
  • this is to be a man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity: in
  • exspectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this life, yet in
  • my best meditations do often defie death: I honour any man that contemns
  • it, nor can I highly love any that is afraid of it: this makes me
  • naturally love a Souldier, and honour those tattered and contemptible
  • Regiments, that will dye at the command of a Sergeant. For a Pagan there
  • may be some motives to be in love with life; but for a Christian to be
  • amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this Dilemma, that he is
  • too sensible of this life, or hopeless of the life to come.
  • SECT. 39
  • Some Divines count Adam 30 years old at his creation, because they
  • suppose him created in the perfect age and stature of man. And surely we
  • are all out of the computation of our age, and every man is some months
  • elder than he bethinks him; for we live, move, have a being, and are
  • subject to the actions of the elements, and the malice of diseases, in
  • that other world, the truest Microcosm, the Womb of our Mother. For
  • besides that general and common existence we are conceived to hold in
  • our Chaos, and whilst we sleep within the bosome of our causes, we enjoy
  • a being and life in three distinct worlds, wherein we receive most
  • manifest graduations: In that obscure World and womb of our mother, our
  • time is short, computed by the Moon; yet longer then the days of many
  • creatures that behold the Sun, our selves being not yet without life,
  • sense, and reason; though for the manifestation of its actions, it
  • awaits the opportunity of objects, and seems to live there but in its
  • root and soul of vegetation; entring afterwards upon the scene of the
  • World, we arise up and become another creature, performing the
  • reasonable actions of man, and obscurely manifesting that part of
  • Divinity in us, but not in complement and perfection, till we have once
  • more cast our secondine, that is, this slough of flesh, and are
  • delivered into the last world, that is, that ineffable place of _Paul_,
  • that proper _ubi_ of spirits. The smattering I have of the Philosophers
  • Stone (which is something more then the perfect exaltation of Gold) hath
  • taught me a great deal of Divinity, and instructed my belief, how that
  • immortal spirit and incorruptible substance of my Soul may lye obscure,
  • and sleep a while within this house of flesh. Those strange and mystical
  • transmigrations that I have observed in Silk-worms, turned my Philosophy
  • into Divinity. There is in these works of nature, which seem to puzzle
  • reason, something Divine, and hath more in it then the eye of a common
  • spectator doth discover.
  • SECT. 40
  • I am naturally bashful, nor hath conversation, age or travel, been able
  • to effront, or enharden me; yet I have one part of modesty which I have
  • seldom discovered in another, that is, (to speak truely) I am not so
  • much afraid of death, as ashamed thereof; 'tis the very disgrace and
  • ignominy of our natures, that in a moment can so disfigure us, that our
  • nearest friends, Wife, and Children stand afraid and start at us. The
  • Birds and Beasts of the field, that before in a natural fear obeyed us,
  • forgetting all allegiance, begin to prey upon us. This very conceit hath
  • in a tempest disposed and left me willing to be swallowed up in the
  • abyss of waters; wherein I had perished unseen, unpityed, without
  • wondering eyes, tears of pity, Lectures of mortality, and none had said,
  • _Quantum mutatus ab illo!_ Not that I am ashamed of the Anatomy of my
  • parts, or can accuse Nature for playing the bungler in any part of me,
  • or my own vitious life for contracting any shameful disease upon me,
  • whereby I might not call my self as wholesome a morsel for the worms as
  • any.
  • SECT. 41
  • Some upon the courage of a fruitful issue, wherein, as in the truest
  • Chronicle, they seem to outlive themselves, can with greater patience
  • away with death. This conceit and counterfeit subsisting in our
  • progenies, seems to me a meer fallacy, unworthy the desires of a man,
  • that can but conceive a thought of the next World; who, in a nobler
  • ambition, should desire to live in his substance in Heaven, rather than
  • his name and shadow in the earth. And therefore at my death I mean to
  • take a total adieu of the world, not caring for a Monument, History, or
  • Epitaph, not so much as the memory of my name to be found any where, but
  • in the universal Register of God. I am not yet so Cynical, as to approve
  • the [15]Testament of _Diogenes_, nor do I altogether allow that
  • _Rodomontodo_ of _Lucan_;
  • _----Cœlo tegitur, qui non habet urnam._
  • _He that unburied lies wants not his Herse,
  • For unto him a Tomb's the Universe._
  • But commend in my calmer judgement, those ingenuous intentions that
  • desire to sleep by the urns of their Fathers, and strive to go the
  • neatest way unto corruption. I do not envy the temper of Crows and Daws,
  • nor the numerous and weary days of our Fathers before the Flood. If
  • there be any truth in Astrology, I may outlive a Jubilee; as yet I have
  • not seen one revolution of Saturn, nor hath my pulse beat thirty years;
  • and yet excepting one, have seen the Ashes, & left under ground all the
  • Kings of _Europe_; have been contemporary to three Emperours, four Grand
  • Signiours, and as many Popes: methinks I have outlived my self, and
  • begin to be weary of the Sun; I have shaken hands with delight: in my
  • warm blood and Canicular days, I perceive I do anticipate the vices of
  • age; the World to me is but a dream or mock-show, and we all therein but
  • Pantalones and Anticks, to my severer contemplations.
  • [15] _Who willed his friend not to bury him, but hang him up with a
  • staff in his hand to fright away the crows._
  • SECT. 42
  • It is not, I confess, an unlawful prayer to desire to surpass the days
  • of our Saviour, or wish to outlive that age wherein he thought fittest
  • to dye; yet if (as Divinity affirms) there shall be no gray hairs in
  • Heaven, but all shall rise in the perfect state of men, we do but
  • outlive those perfections in this World, to be recalled unto them by a
  • greater Miracle in the next, and run on here but to be retrograde
  • hereafter. Were there any hopes to outlive vice, or a point to be
  • super-annuated from sin, it were worthy our knees to implore the days of
  • _Methuselah_. But age doth not rectifie, but incurvate our natures,
  • turning bad dispositions into worser habits, and (like diseases) brings
  • on incurable vices; for every day as we grow weaker in age, we grow
  • stronger in sin; and the number of our days doth make but our sins
  • innumerable. The same vice committed at sixteen, is not the same, though
  • it agree in all other circumstances, at forty, but swells and doubles
  • from the circumstance of our ages, wherein, besides the constant and
  • inexcusable habit of transgressing, the maturity of our judgement cuts
  • off pretence unto excuse or pardon: every sin the oftner it is
  • committed, the more it acquireth in the quality of evil; as it succeeds
  • in time, so it proceeds in degrees of badness; for as they proceed they
  • ever multiply, and like figures in Arithmetick, the last stands for more
  • than all that went before it. And though I think no man can live well
  • once, but he that could live twice, yet for my own part I would not live
  • over my hours past, or begin again the thred of my days: not upon
  • _Cicero's_ ground, because I have lived them well, but for fear I should
  • live them worse: I find my growing Judgment daily instruct me how to be
  • better, but my untamed affections and confirmed vitiosity makes me daily
  • do worse; I find in my confirmed age the same sins I discovered in my
  • youth; I committed many then because I was a Child, and because I commit
  • them still, I am yet an infant. Therefore I perceive a man may be twice
  • a Child before the days of dotage; and stands in need of _Æsons_ Bath
  • before threescore.
  • SECT. 43
  • And truely there goes a great deal of providence to produce a mans life
  • unto three-score: there is more required than an able temper for those
  • years; though the radical humour contain in it sufficient oyl for
  • seventy, yet I perceive in some it gives no light past thirty: men
  • assign not all the causes of long life, that write whole Books thereof.
  • They that found themselves on the radical balsome, or vital sulphur of
  • the parts, determine not why _Abel_ lived not so long as _Adam_. There
  • is therefore a secret glome or bottome of our days: 'twas his wisdom to
  • determine them, but his perpetual and waking providence that fulfils and
  • accomplisheth them; wherein the spirits, our selves, and all the
  • creatures of God in a secret and disputed way do execute his will. Let
  • them not therefore complain of immaturity that die about thirty; they
  • fall but like the whole World, whose solid and well-composed substance
  • must not expect the duration and period of its constitution: when all
  • things are compleated in it, its age is accomplished; and the last and
  • general fever may as naturally destroy it before six thousand, as me
  • before forty; there is therefore some other hand that twines the thread
  • of life than that of Nature: we are not onely ignorant in Antipathies
  • and occult qualities; our ends are as obscure as our beginnings; the
  • line of our days is drawn by night, and the various effects therein by a
  • pensil that is invisible; wherein though we confess our ignorance, I am
  • sure we do not err if we say it is the hand of God.
  • SECT. 44
  • I am much taken with two verses of _Lucan_, since I have been able not
  • onely as we do at School, to construe, but understand.
  • _Victurosque Dei celant ut vivere durent.
  • Felix esse mori._
  • _We're all deluded, vainly searching ways
  • To make us happy by the length of days;
  • For cunningly to make's protract this breath,
  • The Gods conceal the happiness of Death._
  • There be many excellent strains in that Poet, wherewith his Stoical
  • Genius hath liberally supplied him; and truely there are singular pieces
  • in the Philosophy of _Zeno_, and doctrine of the Stoicks, which I
  • perceive, delivered in a Pulpit, pass for current Divinity: yet herein
  • are they in extreams, that can allow a man to be his own _Assassine_,
  • and so highly extol the end and suicide of _Cato_; this is indeed not to
  • fear death, but yet to be afraid of life. It is a brave act of valour to
  • contemn death; but where life is more terrible than death, it is then
  • the truest valour to dare to live; and herein Religion hath taught us a
  • noble example: For all the valiant acts of _Curtius_, _Scevola_, or
  • _Codrus_, do not parallel or match that one of _Job_; and sure there is
  • no torture to the rack of a disease, nor any Ponyards in death it self
  • like those in the way or prologue to it. _Emori nolo, sed me esse
  • mortuum nihil curo_; I would not die, but care not to be dead. Were I of
  • _Cæsar's_ Religion, I should be of his desires, and wish rather to go
  • off at one blow, then to be sawed in pieces by the grating torture of a
  • disease. Men that look no farther than their outsides, think health an
  • appurtenance unto life, and quarrel with their constitutions for being
  • sick; but I, that have examined the parts of man, and know upon what
  • tender filaments that Fabrick hangs, do wonder that we are not always
  • so; and considering the thousand doors that lead to death, do thank my
  • God that we can die but once. 'Tis not onely the mischief of diseases,
  • and villany of poysons, that make an end of us; we vainly accuse the
  • fury of Guns, and the new inventions of death; it is in the power of
  • every hand to destroy us, and we are beholding unto every one we meet,
  • he doth not kill us. There is therefore but one comfort left, that,
  • though it be in the power of the weakest arm to take away life, it is
  • not in the strongest to deprive us of death: God would not exempt
  • himself from that, the misery of immortality in the flesh; he undertook
  • not that was immortal. Certainly there is no happiness within this
  • circle of flesh, nor is it in the Opticks of these eyes to behold
  • felicity; the first day of our Jubilee is Death; the Devil hath
  • therefore failed of his desires; we are happier with death than we
  • should have been without it: there is no misery but in himself, where
  • there is no end of misery; and so indeed in his own sense the Stoick is
  • in the right. He forgets that he can dye who complains of misery; we are
  • in the power of no calamity while death is in our own.
  • SECT. 45.
  • Now besides the literal and positive kind of death, there are others
  • whereof Divines make mention, and those I think, not meerly
  • Metaphorical, as mortification, dying unto sin and the World; therefore,
  • I say, every man hath a double Horoscope, one of his humanity, his
  • birth; another of his Christianity, his baptism, and from this do I
  • compute or calculate my Nativity; not reckoning those _Horæ combustæ_
  • and odd days, or esteeming my self any thing, before I was my Saviours,
  • and inrolled in the Register of Christ: Whosoever enjoys not this life,
  • I count him but an apparition, though he wear about him the sensible
  • affections of flesh. In these moral acceptions, the way to be immortal
  • is to dye daily; nor can I think I have the true Theory of death, when I
  • contemplate a skull, or behold a Skeleton with those vulgar imaginations
  • it casts upon us; I have therefore enlarged that common _Memento mori_,
  • into a more Christian memorandum, _Memento quatuor Novissima_, those
  • four inevitable points of us all, Death, Judgement, Heaven, and Hell.
  • Neither did the contemplations of the Heathens rest in their graves,
  • without further thought of Rhadamanth or some judicial proceeding after
  • death, though in another way, and upon suggestion of their natural
  • reasons. I cannot but marvail from what _Sibyl_ or Oracle they stole the
  • Prophesie of the worlds destruction by fire, or whence _Lucan_ learned
  • to say,
  • _Communis mundo superest rogus, assibus astra Misturus.
  • There yet remains to th' World one common Fire,
  • Wherein our bones with stars shall make one Pyre._
  • I believe the World grows near its end, yet is neither old nor decayed,
  • nor shall ever perish upon the ruines of its own Principles. As the work
  • of Creation was above nature, so its adversary annihilation; without
  • which the World hath not its end, but its mutation. Now what force
  • should be able to consume it thus far, without the breath of God, which
  • is the truest consuming flame, my Philosophy cannot inform me. Some
  • believe there went not a minute to the Worlds creation, nor shall there
  • go to its destruction; those six days, so punctually described, make not
  • to them one moment, but rather seem to manifest the method and Idea of
  • the great work of the intellect of God, than the manner how he proceeded
  • in its operation. I cannot dream that there should be at the last day
  • any such Judicial proceeding, or calling to the Bar, as indeed the
  • Scripture seems to imply, and the literal Commentators do conceive: for
  • unspeakable mysteries in the Scriptures are often delivered in a vulgar
  • and illustrative way; and being written unto man, are delivered, not as
  • they truely are, but as they may be understood; wherein notwithstanding
  • the different interpretations according to different capacities may
  • stand firm with our devotion, nor be any way prejudicial to each single
  • edification.
  • SECT. 46
  • [Sidenote: _In those days there shall come lyars and false prophets._]
  • Now to determine the day and year of this inevitable time, is not onely
  • convincible and statute-madness, but also manifest impiety: How shall we
  • interpret _Elias_ 6000 years, or imagine the secret communicated to a
  • Rabbi, which God hath denyed unto his Angels? It had been an excellent
  • Quære to have posed the Devil of _Delphos_, and must needs have forced
  • him to some strange amphibology; it hath not onely mocked the
  • predictions of sundry Astrologers in Ages past, but the prophesies of
  • many melancholy heads in these present, who neither understanding
  • reasonably things past or present, pretend a knowledge of things to
  • come; heads ordained onely to manifest the incredible effects of
  • melancholy, and to fulfil old prophecies rather than be the authors of
  • new. In those days there shall come Wars and rumours of Wars, to me
  • seems no prophecy, but a constant truth, in all times verified since it
  • was pronounced: There shall be signs in the Moon and Stars; how comes he
  • then like a Thief in the night, when he gives an item of his coming?
  • That common sign drawn from the revelation of Antichrist, is as obscure
  • as any: in our common compute he hath been come these many years; but
  • for my own part to speak freely, I am half of opinion that Antichrist is
  • the Philosophers stone in Divinity; for the discovery and invention
  • thereof, though there be prescribed rules and probable inductions, yet
  • hath hardly any man attained the perfect discovery thereof. That general
  • opinion that the World grows neer its end, hath possessed all ages past
  • as neerly as ours; I am afraid that the Souls that now depart, cannot
  • escape that lingring expostulation of the Saints under the Altar,
  • _Quousque, Domine? How long, O Lord?_ and groan in the expectation of
  • that great Jubilee.
  • SECT. 47
  • This is the day that must make good that great attribute of God, his
  • Justice; that must reconcile those unanswerable doubts that torment the
  • wisest understandings, and reduce those seeming inequalities, and
  • respective distributions in this world, to an equality and recompensive
  • Justice in the next. This is that one day, that shall include and
  • comprehend all that went before it; wherein, as in the last scene, all
  • the Actors must enter, to compleat and make up the Catastrophe of this
  • great piece. This is the day whose memory hath onely power to make us
  • honest in the dark, and to be vertuous without a witness. _Ipsa sui
  • pretium virtus sibi_, that Vertue is her own reward, is but a cold
  • principle, and not able to maintain our variable resolutions in a
  • constant and setled way of goodness. I have practised that honest
  • artifice of _Seneca_, and in my retired and solitary imaginations, to
  • detain me from the foulness of vice, have fancied to my self the
  • presence of my dear and worthiest friends, before whom I should lose my
  • head, rather than be vitious: yet herein I found that there was nought
  • but moral honesty, and this was not to be vertuous for his sake who must
  • reward us at the last. I have tryed if I could reach that great
  • resolution of his, to be honest without a thought of Heaven or Hell; and
  • indeed I found, upon a natural inclination, and inbred loyalty unto
  • virtue, that I could serve her without a livery; yet not in that
  • resolved and venerable way, but that the frailty of my nature, upon[A]
  • easie temptation, might be induced to forget her. The life therefore and
  • spirit of all our actions, is the resurrection, and a stable
  • apprehension that our ashes shall enjoy the fruit of our pious
  • endeavours: without this, all Religion is a fallacy, and those impieties
  • of _Lucian_, _Euripides_, and _Julian_, are no blasphemies, but subtle
  • verities, and Atheists have been the onely Philosophers.
  • [A] _Insert_ any, 1672.
  • SECT. 48
  • How shall the dead arise, is no question of my Faith; to believe only
  • possibilities, is not Faith, but meer Philosophy. Many things are true
  • in Divinity, which are neither inducible by reason, nor confirmable by
  • sense; and many things in Philosophy confirmable by sense, yet not
  • inducible by reason. Thus it is impossible by any solid or demonstrative
  • reasons to perswade a man to believe the conversion of the Needle to the
  • North; though this be possible and true, and easily credible, upon a
  • single experiment unto the sense. I believe that our estranged and
  • divided ashes shall unite again; that our separated dust after so many
  • Pilgrimages and transformations into the parts of Minerals, Plants,
  • Animals, Elements, shall at the Voice of God return into their primitive
  • shapes, and joyn again to make up their primary and predestinate forms.
  • As at the Creation there was a separation of that confused mass into its
  • pieces; so at the destruction thereof there shall be a separation into
  • its distinct individuals. As at the Creation of the World, all the
  • distinct species that we behold lay involved in one mass, till the
  • fruitful Voice of God separated this united multitude into its several
  • species: so at the last day, when those corrupted reliques shall be
  • scattered in the Wilderness of forms, and seem to have forgot their
  • proper habits, God by a powerful Voice shall command them back into
  • their proper shapes, and call them out by their single individuals: Then
  • shall appear the fertility of _Adam_, and the magick of that sperm that
  • hath dilated into so many millions. I have often beheld as a miracle,
  • that artificial resurrection and revivification of _Mercury_, how being
  • mortified into a thousand shapes, it assumes again its own, and returns
  • into its numerical self. Let us speak naturally, and like Philosophers,
  • the forms of alterable bodies in these sensible corruptions perish not;
  • nor as we imagine, wholly quit their mansions, but retire and contract
  • themselves into their secret and inaccessible parts, where they may best
  • protect themselves from the action of their Antagonist. A plant or
  • vegetable consumed to ashes, by a contemplative and school-Philosopher
  • seems utterly destroyed, and the form to have taken his leave for ever:
  • But to a sensible Artist the forms are not perished, but withdrawn into
  • their incombustible part, where they lie secure from the action of that
  • devouring element. This is made good by experience, which can from the
  • Ashes of a Plant revive the plant, and from its cinders recal it into
  • its stalk and leaves again. What the Art of man can do in these
  • inferiour pieces, what blasphemy is it to affirm the finger of God
  • cannot do in these more perfect and sensible structures? This is that
  • mystical Philosophy, from whence no true Scholar becomes an Atheist, but
  • from the visible effects of nature grows up a real Divine, and beholds
  • not in a dream, as _Ezekiel_, but in an ocular and visible object the
  • types of his resurrection.
  • SECT. 49
  • Now, the necessary Mansions of our restored selves, are those two
  • contrary and incompatible places we call Heaven and Hell; to define
  • them, or strictly to determine what and where these are, surpasseth my
  • Divinity. That elegant Apostle which seemed to have a glimpse of Heaven,
  • hath left but a negative description thereof; _which neither eye hath
  • seen, nor ear hath heard, nor can enter into the heart of man_: he was
  • translated out of himself to behold it; but being returned into himself,
  • could not express it. St. _John's_ description by Emerals, Chrysolites,
  • and precious Stones, is too weak to express the material Heaven we
  • behold. Briefly therefore, where the Soul hath the full measure and
  • complement of happiness; where the boundless appetite of that spirit
  • remains compleatly satisfied, that it can neither desire addition nor
  • alteration; that I think is truly Heaven: and this can onely be in the
  • injoynient of that essence, whose infinite goodness is able to terminate
  • the desires of it self, and the unsatiable wishes of ours; wherever God
  • will thus manifest himself, there is Heaven though within the circle of
  • this sensible world. Thus the Soul of man may be in Heaven any where,
  • even within the limits of his own proper body; and when it ceaseth to
  • live in the body, it may remain in its own soul, that is, its Creator:
  • and thus we may say that St. _Paul_, whether in the body, or out of the
  • body, was yet in Heaven. To place it in the Empyreal, or beyond the
  • tenth sphear, is to forget the world's destruction; for when this
  • sensible world shall be destroyed, all shall then be here as it is now
  • there, an Empyreal Heaven, a _quasi_ vacuity; when to ask where Heaven
  • is, is to demand where the Presence of God is, or where we have the
  • glory of that happy vision. _Moses_ that was bred up in all the learning
  • of the _Egyptians_, committed a gross absurdity in Philosophy, when with
  • these eyes of flesh he desired to see God, and petitioned his Maker,
  • that is, truth it self, to a contradiction. Those that imagine Heaven
  • and Hell neighbours, and conceive a vicinity between those two extreams,
  • upon consequence of the Parable, where _Dives_ discoursed with _Lazarus_
  • in _Abraham's_ bosome, do too grosly conceive of those glorified
  • creatures, whose eyes shall easily out-see the Sun, and behold without a
  • perspective the extreamest distances: for if there shall be in our
  • glorified eyes, the faculty of sight and reception of objects, I could
  • think the visible species there to be in as unlimitable a way as now the
  • intellectual. I grant that two bodies placed beyond the tenth sphear,
  • or in a vacuity, according to _Aristotle_'s Philosophy, could not behold
  • each other, because there wants a body or Medium to hand and transport
  • the visible rays of the object unto the sense; but when there shall be a
  • general defect of either Medium to convey, or light to prepare and
  • dispose that Medium, and yet a perfect vision, we must suspend the rules
  • of our Philosophy, and make all good by a more absolute piece of
  • opticks.
  • SECT. 50
  • I cannot tell how to say that fire is the essence of Hell: I know not
  • what to make of Purgatory, or conceive a flame that can either prey
  • upon, or purifie the substance of a Soul: those flames of sulphur
  • mention'd in the Scriptures, I take not to be understood of this present
  • Hell, but of that to come, where fire shall make up the complement of
  • our tortures, and have a body or subject wherein to manifest its
  • tyranny. Some who have had the honour to be textuary in Divinity, are of
  • opinion it shall be the same specifical fire with ours. This is hard to
  • conceive, yet can I make good how even that may prey upon our bodies,
  • and yet not consume us: for in this material World there are bodies that
  • persist invincible in the powerfullest flames; and though by the action
  • of fire they fall into ignition and liquation, yet will they never
  • suffer a destruction. I would gladly know how _Moses_ with an actual
  • fire calcin'd, or burnt the Golden Calf into powder: for that mystical
  • metal of Gold, whose solary and celestial nature I admire, exposed unto
  • the violence of fire, grows onely hot, and liquifies, but consumeth not;
  • so when the consumable and volatile pieces of our bodies shall be
  • refined into a more impregnable and fixed temper, like Gold, though they
  • suffer from the action of flames, they shall never perish, but lye
  • immortal in the arms of fire. And surely if this frame must suffer onely
  • by the action of this element, there will many bodies escape, and not
  • onely Heaven, but Earth will not be at an end, but rather a beginning.
  • For at present it is not earth, but a composition of fire, water, earth,
  • and air; but at that time, spoiled of these ingredients, it shall appear
  • in a substance more like it self, its ashes. Philosophers that opinioned
  • the worlds destruction by fire, did never dream of annihilation, which
  • is beyond the power of sublunary causes; for the last[B] action of that
  • element is but vitrification, or a reduction of a body into glass; and
  • therefore some of our Chymicks facetiously affirm, that at the last fire
  • all shall be christallized and reverberated into glass, which is the
  • utmost action of that element. Nor need we fear this term annihilation,
  • or wonder that God will destroy the works of his Creation: for man
  • subsisting, who is, and will then truely appear, a Microcosm, the world
  • cannot be said to be destroyed. For the eyes of God, and perhaps also of
  • our glorified selves, shall as really behold and contemplate the World
  • in its Epitome or contracted essence, as now it doth at large and in its
  • dilated substance. In the seed of a Plant to the eyes of God, and to the
  • understanding of man, there exists, though in an invisible way, the
  • perfect leaves, flowers, and fruit thereof: (for things that are in
  • _posse_ to the sense, are actually existent to the understanding). Thus
  • God beholds all things, who contemplates as fully his works in their
  • Epitome, as in their full volume; and beheld as amply the whole world in
  • that little compendium of the sixth day, as in the scattered and dilated
  • pieces of those five before.
  • [B] Last and proper, 1672.
  • SECT. 51
  • Men commonly set forth the torments of Hell by fire, and the extremity
  • of corporal afflictions, and describe Hell in the same method that
  • _Mahomet_ doth Heaven. This indeed makes a noise, and drums in popular
  • ears; but if this be the terrible piece thereof, it is not worthy to
  • stand in diameter with Heaven, whose happiness consists in that part
  • that is best able to comprehend it, that immortal essence, that
  • translated divinity and colony of God, the Soul. Surely though we place
  • Hell under Earth, the Devil's walk and purlue is about it: men speak too
  • popularly who place it in those flaming mountains, which to grosser
  • apprehensions represent Hell. The heart of man is the place the Devils
  • dwell in; I feel sometimes a Hell within my self; _Lucifer_ keeps his
  • Court in my breast; _Legion_ is revived in me. There are as many Hells,
  • as _Anaxagoras_ conceited worlds; there was more than one Hell in
  • _Magdalene_, when there were seven Devils; for every Devil is an Hell
  • unto himself; he holds enough of torture in his own _ubi_, and needs not
  • the misery of circumference to afflict him. And thus a distracted
  • Conscience here, is a shadow or introduction unto Hell hereafter. Who
  • can but pity the merciful intention of those hands that do destroy
  • themselves? the Devil, were it in his power, would do the like; which
  • being impossible, his miseries are endless, and he suffers most in that
  • attribute wherein he is impassible, his immortality.
  • SECT. 52
  • I thank God that with joy I mention it, I was never afraid of Hell, nor
  • never grew pale at the description of that place; I have so fixed my
  • contemplations on Heaven, that I have almost forgot the Idea of Hell,
  • and am afraid rather to lose the Joys of the one, than endure the
  • misery of the other: to be deprived of them is a perfect Hell, and needs
  • methinks no addition to compleat our afflictions; that terrible term
  • hath never detained me from sin, nor do I owe any good action to the
  • name thereof; I fear God, yet am not afraid of him; his mercies make me
  • ashamed of my sins, before his Judgements afraid thereof: these are the
  • forced and secondary method of his wisdom, which he useth but as the
  • last remedy, and upon provocation; a course rather to deter the wicked,
  • than incite the virtuous to his worship. I can hardly think there was
  • ever any scared into Heaven; they go the fairest way to Heaven that
  • would serve God without a Hell; other Mercenaries, that crouch into him
  • in fear of Hell, though they term themselves the servants, are indeed
  • but the slaves of the Almighty.
  • SECT. 53
  • And to be true, and speak my soul, when I survey the occurrences of my
  • life, and call into account the Finger of God, I can perceive nothing
  • but an abyss and mass of mercies, either in general to mankind, or in
  • particular to my self: and whether out of the prejudice of my affection,
  • or an inverting and partial conceit of his mercies, I know not; but
  • those which others term crosses, afflictions, judgements, misfortunes,
  • to me who inquire farther into them then their visible effects, they
  • both appear, and in event have ever proved, the secret and dissembled
  • favours of his affection. It is a singular piece of Wisdom to apprehend
  • truly, and without passion, the Works of God, and so well to distinguish
  • his Justice from his Mercy, as not miscall those noble Attributes: yet
  • it is likewise an honest piece of Logick, so to dispute and argue the
  • proceedings of God, as to distinguish even his judgments into mercies.
  • For God is merciful unto all, because better to the worst, than the best
  • deserve; and to say he punisheth none in this world, though it be a
  • Paradox, is no absurdity. To one that hath committed Murther, if the
  • Judge should only ordain a Fine, it were a madness to call this a
  • punishment, and to repine at the sentence, rather than admire the
  • clemency of the Judge. Thus our offences being mortal, and deserving not
  • onely Death, but Damnation; if the goodness of God be content to
  • traverse and pass them over with a loss, misfortune, or disease; what
  • frensie were it to term this a punishment, rather than an extremity of
  • mercy; and to groan under the rod of his Judgements, rather than admire
  • the Scepter of his Mercies? Therefore to adore, honour, and admire him,
  • is a debt of gratitude due from the obligation of our nature, states,
  • and conditions; and with these thoughts, he that knows them best, will
  • not deny that I adore him. That I obtain Heaven, and the bliss thereof,
  • is accidental, and not the intended work of my devotion; it being a
  • felicity I can neither think to deserve, nor scarce in modesty to
  • expect. For these two ends of us all, either as rewards or punishments,
  • are mercifully ordained and disproportionably disposed unto our actions;
  • the one being so far beyond our deserts, the other so infinitely below
  • our demerits.
  • SECT. 54
  • There is no Salvation to those that believe not in _Christ_, that is,
  • say some, since his Nativity, and as Divinity affirmeth, before also;
  • which makes me much apprehend the ends of those honest Worthies and
  • Philosophers which dyed before his Incarnation. It is hard to place
  • those Souls in Hell, whose worthy lives do teach us Virtue on Earth:
  • methinks amongst those many subdivisions of Hell, there might have been
  • one Limbo left for these. What a strange vision will it be to see their
  • Poetical fictions converted into Verities, and their imagined and
  • fancied Furies into real Devils? how strange to them will sound the
  • History of _Adam_, when they shall suffer for him they never heard of?
  • when they who derive their genealogy from the Gods, shall know they are
  • the unhappy issue of sinful man? It is an insolent part of reason, to
  • controvert the Works of God, or question the Justice of his proceedings.
  • Could Humility teach others, as it hath instructed me, to contemplate
  • the infinite and incomprehensible distance betwixt the Creator and the
  • Creature; or did we seriously perpend that one simile of St. _Paul_,
  • _Shall the Vessel say to the Potter, Why hast thou made me thus?_ it
  • would prevent these arrogant disputes of reason, nor would we argue the
  • definitive sentence of God, either to Heaven or Hell. Men that live
  • according to the right rule and law of reason, live but in their own
  • kind, as beasts do in theirs; who justly obey the prescript of their
  • natures, and therefore cannot reasonably demand a reward of their
  • actions, as onely obeying the natural dictates of their reason. It will
  • therefore, and must at last appear, that all salvation is through
  • _Christ_; which verity I fear these great examples of virtue must
  • confirm, and make it good, how the perfectest actions of earth have no
  • title or claim unto Heaven.
  • SECT. 55
  • Nor truely do I think the lives of these or of any other, were ever
  • correspondent, or in all points conformable unto their doctrines. It is
  • evident that _Aristotle_ transgressed the rule of his own Ethicks; the
  • Stoicks that condemn passion, and command a man to laugh in _Phalaris_
  • his Bull, could not endure without a groan a fit of the Stone or Colick.
  • The _Scepticks_ that affirmed they knew nothing, even in that opinion
  • confute themselves, and thought they knew more than all the World
  • beside. _Diogenes_ I hold to be the most vain-glorious man of his time,
  • and more ambitious in refusing all Honours, than _Alexander_ in
  • rejecting none. Vice and the Devil put a Fallacy upon our Reasons, and
  • provoking us too hastily to run from it, entangle and profound us deeper
  • in it. The Duke of _Venice_, that weds himself unto the Sea by a Ring of
  • Gold, I will not argue of prodigality, because it is a solemnity of good
  • use and consequence in the State: but the Philosopher that threw his
  • money into the Sea to avoid Avarice, was a notorious prodigal. There is
  • no road or ready way to virtue; it is not an easie point of art to
  • disentangle our selves from this riddle, or web of Sin: To perfect
  • virtue, as to Religion, there is required a _Panoplia_, or compleat
  • armour; that whilst we lye at close ward against one Vice, we lye not
  • open to the venny of another. And indeed wiser discretions that have the
  • thred of reason to conduct them, offend without pardon; whereas,
  • under-heads may stumble without dishonour. There go so many
  • circumstances to piece up one good action, that it is a lesson to be
  • good, and we are forced to be virtuous by the book. Again, the Practice
  • of men holds not an equal pace, yea, and often runs counter to their
  • Theory; we naturally know what is good, but naturally pursue what is
  • evil: the Rhetorick wherewith I perswade another, cannot perswade my
  • self: there is a depraved appetite in us, that will with patience hear
  • the learned instructions of Reason, but yet perform no farther than
  • agrees to its own irregular humour. In brief, we all are monsters, that
  • is, a composition of Man and Beast; wherein we must endeavour to be as
  • the Poets fancy that wise man _Chiron_, that is, to have the region of
  • Man above that of Beast, and Sense to sit but at the feet of Reason.
  • Lastly, I do desire with God that all, but yet affirm with men, that few
  • shall know Salvation; that the bridge is narrow, the passage strait unto
  • life: yet those who do confine the Church of God, either to particular
  • Nations, Churches or Families, have made it far narrower then our
  • Saviour ever meant it.
  • SECT. 56
  • The vulgarity of those judgements that wrap the Church of God in
  • _Strabo's_ cloak, and restrain it unto _Europe_, seem to me as bad
  • Geographers as _Alexander_, who thought he had Conquer'd all the World,
  • when he had not subdued the half of any part thereof. For we cannot deny
  • the Church of God both in _Asia_ and _Africa_, if we do not forget the
  • Peregrinations of the Apostles, the deaths of the Martyrs, the Sessions
  • of many, and, even in our reformed judgement, lawful Councils, held in
  • those parts in the minority and nonage of ours. Nor must a few
  • differences, more remarkable in the eyes of man than perhaps in the
  • judgement of God, excommunicate from Heaven one another, much less those
  • Christians who are in a manner all Martyrs, maintaining their Faith, in
  • the noble way of persecution, and serving God in the Fire, whereas we
  • honour him in the Sunshine. 'Tis true, we all hold there is a number of
  • Elect, and many to be saved; yet take our Opinions together, and from
  • the confusion thereof there will be no such thing as salvation, nor
  • shall any one be saved. For first, the Church of _Rome_ condemneth us,
  • we likewise them; the Sub-reformists and Sectaries sentence the Doctrine
  • of our Church as damnable; the Atomist, or Familist, reprobates all
  • these; and all these, them again. Thus whilst the Mercies of God do
  • promise us Heaven, our conceits and opinions exclude us from that place.
  • There must be, therefore, more than one St. _Peter_: particular Churches
  • and Sects usurp the gates of Heaven, and turn the key against each
  • other: and thus we go to Heaven against each others wills, conceits and
  • opinions; and with as much uncharity as ignorance, do err I fear in
  • points not only of our own, but one an others salvation.
  • SECT. 57
  • I believe many are saved, who to man seem reprobated; and many are
  • reprobated, who in the opinion and sentence of man, stand elected: there
  • will appear at the Last day, strange and unexpected examples both of his
  • Justice and his Mercy; and therefore to define either, is folly in man,
  • and insolency even in the Devils: those acute and subtil spirits in all
  • their sagacity, can hardly divine who shall be saved; which if they
  • could Prognostick, their labour were at an end; nor need they compass
  • the earth seeking whom they may devour. Those who upon a rigid
  • application of the Law, sentence _Solomon_ unto damnation, condemn not
  • onely him, but themselves, and the whole World: for by the Letter and
  • written Word of God, we are without exception in the state of Death;
  • but there is a prerogative of God, and an arbitrary pleasure above the
  • Letter of his own Law, by which alone we can pretend unto Salvation, and
  • through which _Solomon_ might be as easily saved as those who condemn
  • him.
  • SECT. 58
  • The number of those who pretend unto Salvation, and those infinite
  • swarms who think to pass through the eye of this Needle, have much
  • amazed me. That name and compellation of _little Flock_, doth not
  • comfort, but deject my Devotion; especially when I reflect upon mine own
  • unworthiness, wherein, according to my humble apprehensions, I am below
  • them all. I believe there shall never be an Anarchy in Heaven, but as
  • there are Hierarchies amongst the Angels, so shall there be degrees of
  • priority amongst the Saints. Yet is it (I protest) beyond my ambition to
  • aspire unto the first ranks; my desires onely are, and I shall be happy
  • therein, to be but the last man, and bring up the Rere in Heaven.
  • SECT. 59
  • Again, I am confident and fully perswaded, yet dare not take my oath, of
  • my Salvation: I am as it were sure, and do believe without all doubt,
  • that there is such a City as _Constantinople_; yet for me to take my
  • Oath thereon were a kind of Perjury, because I hold no infallible
  • warrant from my own sense to confirm me in the certainty thereof: And
  • truly, though many pretend an absolute certainty of their Salvation, yet
  • when an humble Soul shall contemplate our own unworthiness, she shall
  • meet with many doubts, and suddenly find how little we stand in need of
  • the Precept of St. _Paul_, _Work out your salvation with fear and
  • trembling._ That which is the cause of my Election, I hold to be the
  • cause of my Salvation, which was the mercy and beneplacit of God, before
  • I was, or the foundation of the World. _Before Abraham was, I am_, is
  • the saying of Christ; yet is it true in some sense, if I say it of
  • myself; for I was not onely before myself, but _Adam_, that is, in the
  • Idea of God, and the decree of that Synod held from all Eternity. And in
  • this sense, I say, the World was before the Creation, and at an end
  • before it had a beginning; and thus was I dead before I was alive:
  • though my grave be _England_, my dying place was Paradise: and _Eve_
  • miscarried of me, before she conceived of Cain.
  • SECT. 60
  • Insolent zeals that do decry good Works, and rely onely upon Faith, take
  • not away merit: for depending upon the efficacy of their Faith, they
  • enforce the condition of God, and in a more sophistical way do seem to
  • challenge Heaven. It was decreed by God, that only those that lapt in
  • the water like Dogs, should have the honour to destroy the _Midianites_;
  • yet could none of those justly challenge, or imagine he deserved that
  • honour thereupon. I do not deny, but that true Faith, and such as God
  • requires, is not onely a mark or token, but also a means of our
  • Salvation; but where to find this, is as obscure to me, as my last end.
  • And if our Saviour could object unto his own Disciples and Favourites, a
  • Faith, that, to the quantity of a grain of Mustard-seed, is able to
  • remove Mountains; surely that which we boast of, is not any thing, or at
  • the most, but a remove from nothing. This is the Tenor of my belief;
  • wherein, though there be many things singular, and to the humour of my
  • irregular self; yet if they square not with maturer Judgements I
  • disclaim them, and do no further favour them, than the learned and best
  • judgements shall authorize them.
  • THE SECOND PART
  • SECT. 1
  • Now for that other Virtue of Charity, without which Faith is a meer
  • notion, and of no existence, I have ever endeavoured to nourish the
  • merciful disposition and humane inclination I borrowed from my Parents,
  • and regulate it to the written and prescribed Laws of Charity; and if I
  • hold the true Anatomy of my self, I am delineated and naturally framed
  • to such a piece of virtue. For I am of a constitution so general, that
  • it comforts and sympathizeth with all things; I have no antipathy, or
  • rather Idio-syncrasie, in dyet, humour, air, any thing: I wonder not at
  • the _French_ for their dishes of Frogs, Snails, and Toadstools, nor at
  • the Jews for Locusts and Grasshoppers; but being amongst them, make them
  • my common Viands, and I find they agree with my Stomach as well as
  • theirs. I could digest a Sallad gathered in a Churchyard, as well as in
  • a Garden. I cannot start at the presence of a Serpent, Scorpion, Lizard,
  • or Salamander: at the sight of a Toad or Viper, I find in me no desire
  • to take up a stone to destroy them. I feel not in my self those common
  • Antipathies that I can discover in others: Those National repugnances do
  • not touch me, nor do I behold with prejudice the _French_, _Italian_,
  • _Spaniard_, or _Dutch_; but where I find their actions in balance with
  • my Country-men's, I honour, love, and embrace them in the same degree.
  • I was born in the eighth Climate, but seem for to be framed and
  • constellated unto all: I am no Plant that will not prosper out of a
  • Garden: All places, all airs make unto me one Countrey; I am in
  • _England_, every where, and under any Meridian. I have been shipwrackt,
  • yet am not enemy with the Sea or Winds; I can study, play, or sleep in a
  • Tempest. In brief, I am averse from nothing; my Conscience would give me
  • the lye if I should absolutely detest or hate any essence but the Devil;
  • or so at least abhor any thing, but that we might come to composition.
  • If there be any among those common objects of hatred I do contemn and
  • laugh at, it is that great enemy of Reason, Virtue and Religion, the
  • Multitude; that numerous piece of monstrosity, which taken asunder seem
  • men, and the reasonable creatures of God; but confused together, make
  • but one great beast, and a monstrosity more prodigious than Hydra: it is
  • no breach of Charity to call these Fools; it is the style all holy
  • Writers have afforded them, set down by _Solomon_ in Canonical
  • Scripture, and a point of our Faith to believe so. Neither in the name
  • of Multitude do I onely include the base and minor sort of people; there
  • is a rabble even amongst the Gentry, a sort of Plebeian heads, whose
  • fancy moves with the same wheel as these; men in the same Level with
  • Mechanicks, though their fortunes do somewhat guild their infirmities,
  • and their purses compound for their follies. But as in casting account,
  • three or four men together come short in account of one man placed by
  • himself below them: So neither are a troop of these ignorant Doradoes,
  • of that true esteem and value, as many a forlorn person, whose condition
  • doth place him below their feet. Let us speak like Politicians, there
  • is a Nobility without Heraldry, a natural dignity, whereby one man is
  • ranked with another; another filed before him, according to the quality
  • of his Desert, and preheminence of his good parts: Though the corruption
  • of these times, and the byas of present practice wheel another way. Thus
  • it was in the first and primitive Commonwealths, and is yet in the
  • integrity and Cradle of well-order'd Polities, till corruption getteth
  • ground, ruder desires labouring after that which wiser considerations
  • contemn; every one having a liberty to amass and heap up riches, and
  • they a licence or faculty to do or purchase any thing.
  • SECT. 2
  • This general and indifferent temper of mine doth more neerly dispose me
  • to this noble virtue. It is a happiness to be born and framed unto
  • virtue, and to grow up from the seeds of nature, rather than the
  • inoculation and forced grafts of education: yet if we are directed only
  • by our particular Natures, and regulate our inclinations by no higher
  • rule than that of our reasons, we are but Moralists; Divinity will still
  • call us Heathens. Therefore this great work of charity must have other
  • motives, ends, and impulsions: I give no alms only to satisfie the
  • hunger of my Brother, but to fulfil and accomplish the Will and Command
  • of my God: I draw not _my_ purse for his sake that demands it, but his
  • that enjoyned it; I relieve no man upon the Rhetorick of his miseries,
  • nor to content mine own commiserating disposition: for this is still but
  • moral charity, and an act that oweth more to passion than reason. He
  • that relieves another upon the bare suggestion and bowels of pity, doth
  • not this so much for his sake, as for his own: for by compassion we
  • make others misery our own, and so by relieving them, we relieve our
  • selves also. It is as erroneous a conceit to redress other Mens
  • misfortunes upon the common considerations of merciful natures, that it
  • may be one day our own case; for this is a sinister and politick kind of
  • charity, whereby we seem to bespeak the pities of men in the like
  • occasions: and truly I have observed that those professed
  • Eleemosynaries, though in a croud or multitude, do yet direct and place
  • their petitions on a few and selected persons: there is surely a
  • Physiognomy, which those experienced and Master Mendicants observe;
  • whereby they instantly discover a merciful aspect, and will single out a
  • face, wherein they spy the signatures and marks of Mercy: for there are
  • mystically in our faces certain Characters which carry in them the motto
  • of our Souls, wherein he that can read _A. B. C._ may read our natures.
  • I hold moreover that there is a Phytognomy, or Physiognomy, not only of
  • Men but of Plants and Vegetables; and in every one of them, some outward
  • figures which hang as signs or bushes of their inward forms. The Finger
  • of God hath left an Inscription upon all his works, not graphical, or
  • composed of Letters, but of their several forms, constitutions, parts,
  • and operations; which aptly joyned together do make one word that doth
  • express their natures. By these Letters God calls the Stars by their
  • names; and by this Alphabet _Adam_ assigned to every creature a name
  • peculiar to its nature. Now there are, besides these Characters in our
  • Faces, certain mystical figures in our Hands, which I dare not call meer
  • dashes, strokes _a la volee_, or at random, because delineated by a
  • Pencil that never works in vain; and hereof I take more particular
  • notice, because I carry that in mine own hand, which I could never read
  • of, nor discover in another. _Aristotle_ I confess, in his acute and
  • singular Book of Physiognomy, hath made no mention of Chiromancy; yet I
  • believe the _Egyptians_, who were neerer addicted to those abstruse and
  • mystical sciences, had a knowledge therein; to which those vagabond and
  • counterfeit _Egyptians_ did after pretend, and perhaps retained a few
  • corrupted principles, which sometimes might verifie their prognosticks.
  • It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many millions of faces,
  • there should be none alike: Now contrary, I wonder as much how there
  • should be any. He that shall consider how many thousand several words
  • have been carelesly and without study composed out of 24 Letters;
  • withal, how many hundred lines there are to be drawn in the Fabrick of
  • one Man; shall easily find that this variety is necessary: And it will
  • be very hard that they shall so concur, as to make one portract like
  • another. Let a Painter carelesly limb out a million of Faces, and you
  • shall find them all different; yea let him have his Copy before him, yet
  • after all his art there will remain a sensible distinction; for the
  • pattern or example of every thing is the perfectest in that kind,
  • whereof we still come short, though we transcend or go beyond it,
  • because herein it is wide, and agrees not in all points unto the Copy.
  • Nor doth the similitude of Creatures disparage the variety of Nature,
  • nor any way confound the Works of God. For even in things alike there is
  • diversity; and those that do seem to accord, do manifestly disagree. And
  • thus is man like God; for in the same things that we resemble him, we
  • are utterly different from him. There was never any thing so like
  • another, as in all points to concur; there will ever some reserved
  • difference slip in, to prevent the identity, without which, two several
  • things would not be alike, but the same, which is impossible.
  • SECT. 3
  • But to return from Philosophy to Charity: I hold not so narrow a conceit
  • of this virtue, as to conceive that to give Alms is onely to be
  • Charitable, or think a piece of Liberality can comprehend the Total of
  • Charity. Divinity hath wisely divided the act thereof into many
  • branches, and hath taught us in this narrow way, many paths unto
  • goodness: as many ways as we may do good, so many ways we may be
  • charitable: there are infirmities, not onely of Body, but of Soul, and
  • Fortunes, which do require the merciful hand of our abilities. I cannot
  • contemn a man for ignorance, but behold him with as much pity as I do
  • _Lazarus_. It is no greater Charity to cloath his body, than apparel the
  • nakedness of his Soul. It is an honourable object to see the reasons of
  • other men wear our Liveries, and their borrowed understandings do homage
  • to the bounty of ours: It is the cheapest way of beneficence, and like
  • the natural charity of the Sun, illuminates another without obscuring it
  • self. To be reserved and caitiff in this part of goodness, is the
  • sordidest piece of covetousness, and more contemptible than pecuniary
  • Avarice. To this (as calling my self a Scholar) I am obliged by the duty
  • of my condition: I make not therefore my head a grave, but a treasure of
  • knowledge; I intend no Monopoly, but a community in learning; I study
  • not for my own sake only, but for theirs that study not for themselves.
  • I envy no man that knows more than my self, but pity them that know
  • less. I instruct no man as an exercise of my knowledge, or with an
  • intent rather to nourish and keep it alive in mine own head, then beget
  • and propagate it in his; and in the midst of all my endeavours, there is
  • but one thought that dejects me, that my acquired parts must perish with
  • my self, nor can be Legacied among my honoured Friends. I cannot fall
  • out, or contemn a man for an errour, or conceive why a difference in
  • Opinion should divide an affection: For Controversies, Disputes, and
  • Argumentations, both in Philosophy and in Divinity, if they meet with
  • discreet and peaceable natures, do not infringe the Laws of Charity: in
  • all disputes, so much as there is of passion, so much there is of
  • nothing to the purpose; for then Reason, like a bad Hound, spends upon a
  • false Scent, and forsakes the question first started. And this is one
  • reason why Controversies are never determined; for though they be amply
  • proposed, they are scarce at all handled, they do so swell with
  • unnecessary Digressions; and the Parenthesis on the party, is often as
  • large as the main discourse upon the subject. The Foundations of
  • Religion are already established, and the Principles of Salvation
  • subscribed unto by all: there remains not many controversies worth a
  • Passion, and yet never any disputed without, not only in Divinity, but
  • inferiour Arts: What a βατραχομυομαχία and hot skirmish is betwixt S.
  • and T. in _Lucian_: How do Grammarians hack and slash for the Genitive
  • case in _Jupiter_? How do they break their own pates to salve that of
  • _Priscian! Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus_. Yea, even amongst
  • wiser militants, how many wounds have been given, and credits slain, for
  • the poor victory of an opinion, or beggerly conquest of a distinction?
  • Scholars are men of Peace, they bear no Arms, but their tongues are
  • sharper than Actus his razor; their Pens carry farther, and give a
  • lowder report than Thunder: I had rather stand the shock of a
  • Basilisco, than the fury of a merciless Pen. It is not meer Zeal to
  • Learning, or Devotion to the Muses, that wiser Princes Patron the Arts,
  • and carry an indulgent aspect unto Scholars; but a desire to have their
  • names eternized by the memory of their writings, and a fear of the
  • revengeful Pen of succeeding ages: for these are the men, that when they
  • have played their parts, and had their _exits_, must step out and give
  • the moral of their Scenes, and deliver unto Posterity an Inventory of
  • their Virtues and Vices. And surely there goes a great deal of
  • Conscience to the compiling of an History: there is no reproach to the
  • scandal of a Story; it is such an authentick kind of falshood, that with
  • authority belies our good names to all Nations and Posterity.
  • SECT. 4
  • There is another offence unto Charity, which no Author hath ever written
  • of, and few take notice of; and that's the reproach, not of whole
  • professions, mysteries and conditions, but of whole Nations; wherein by
  • opprobrious Epithets we miscal each other, and by an uncharitable
  • Logick, from a disposition in a few, conclude a habit in all.
  • _Le mutin Anglois, & le bravache Escossois;
  • Le bougre Italian, & le fol François;
  • Le poultron Romain, le larron de Gascongne,
  • L'Espagnol superbe, & l'Aleman yurongne_.
  • St. _Paul_, that calls the _Cretians_ lyars, doth it but indirectly, and
  • upon quotation of their own Poet. It is as bloody a thought in one way,
  • as _Nero's_ was in another. For by a word we wound a thousand, and at
  • one blow assassine the honour of a Nation. It is as compleat a piece of
  • madness to miscal and rave against the times, or think to recal men to
  • reason, by a fit of passion: _Democritus_, that thought to laugh the
  • times into goodness, seems to me as deeply Hypochondriack, as
  • _Heraclitus_ that bewailed them. It moves not my spleen to behold the
  • multitude in their proper humours, that is, in their fits of folly and
  • madness, as well understanding that wisdom is not prophan'd unto the
  • World, and 'tis the priviledge of a few to be Vertuous. They that
  • endeavour to abolish Vice, destroy also Virtue; for contraries, though
  • they destroy one another, are yet in life of one another. Thus Virtue
  • (abolish vice) is an Idea; again, the community of sin doth not
  • disparage goodness; for when Vice gains upon the major part, Virtue, in
  • whom it remains, becomes more excellent; and being lost in some,
  • multiplies its goodness in others, which remain untouched, and persist
  • intire in the general inundation. I can therefore behold Vice without a
  • Satyr, content only with an admonition, or instructive reprehension, for
  • Noble Natures, and such as are capable of goodness, are railed into
  • vice, that might as easily be admonished into virtue; and we should be
  • all so far the Orators of goodness, as to protract her from the power of
  • Vice, and maintain the cause of injured truth. No man can justly censure
  • or condemn another, because indeed no man truly knows another. This I
  • perceive in my self; for I am in the dark to all the world, and my
  • nearest friends behold me but in a cloud: those that know me but
  • superficially, think less of me than I do of my self; those of my neer
  • acquaintance think more; God, who truly knows me, knows that I am
  • nothing; for he only beholds me and all the world; who looks not on us
  • through a derived ray, or a trajection of a sensible species, but
  • beholds the substance without the helps of accidents, and the forms of
  • things, as we their operations. Further, no man can judge another,
  • because no man knows himself; for we censure others but as they disagree
  • from that humour which we fancy laudible in our selves, and commend
  • others but for that wherein they seem to quadrate and consent with us.
  • So that in conclusion, all is but that we all condemn, Self-love. 'Tis
  • the general complaint of these times, and perhaps of those past, that
  • charity grows cold; which I perceive most verified in those which most
  • do manifest the fires and flames of zeal; for it is a virtue that best
  • agrees with coldest natures, and such as are complexioned for humility.
  • But how shall we expect Charity towards others, when we are uncharitable
  • to our selves? Charity begins at home, is the voice of the World; yet is
  • every man his greatest enemy, and as it were, his own Executioner. _Non
  • occides_, is the Commandment of God, yet scarce observed by any man; for
  • I perceive every man is his own _Atropos_, and lends a hand to cut the
  • thred of his own days. _Cain_ was not therefore the first Murtherer, but
  • _Adam_, who brought in death; whereof he beheld the practice and example
  • in his own son _Abel_, and saw that verified in the experience of
  • another, which faith could not perswade him in the Theory of himself.
  • SECT. 5
  • There is, I think, no man that apprehends his own miseries less than my
  • self, and no man that so neerly apprehends anothers. I could lose an arm
  • without a tear, and with few groans, methinks, be quartered into pieces;
  • yet can I weep most seriously at a Play, and receive with true passion,
  • the counterfeit grief of those known and professed Impostures. It is a
  • barbarous part of inhumanity to add unto any afflicted parties misery,
  • or indeavour to multiply in any man, a passion, whose single nature is
  • already above his patience: this was the greatest affliction of _Job_;
  • and those oblique expostulations of his Friends, a deeper injury than
  • the down-right blows of the Devil. It is not the tears of our own eyes
  • only, but of our friends also, that do exhaust the current of our
  • sorrows; which falling into many streams, runs more peaceably, and is
  • contented with a narrower channel. It is an act within the power of
  • charity, to translate a passion out of one brest into another, and to
  • divide a sorrow almost out of it self; for an affliction, like a
  • dimension, may be so divided, as if not indivisible, at least to become
  • insensible. Now with my friend I desire not to share or participate, but
  • to engross, his sorrows; that by making them mine own, I may more easily
  • discuss them; for in mine own reason, and within my self, I can command
  • that, which I cannot intreat without my self, and within the circle of
  • another. I have often thought those noble pairs and examples of
  • friendship not so truly Histories of what had been, as fictions of what
  • should be; but I now perceive nothing in them but possibilities, nor any
  • thing in the Heroick examples of _Damon_ and _Pythias_, _Achilles_ and
  • _Patroclus_, which methinks upon some grounds I could not perform within
  • the narrow compass of my self. That a man should lay down his life for
  • his Friend, seems strange to vulgar affections, and such as confine
  • themselves within that Worldly principle, Charity begins at home. For
  • mine own part I could never remember the relations that I held unto my
  • self, nor the respect that I owe unto my own nature, in the cause of
  • God, my Country, and my Friends. Next to these three I do embrace my
  • self: I confess I do not observe that order that the Schools ordain our
  • affections, to love our Parents, Wives, Children, and then our Friends;
  • for excepting the injunctions of Religion, I do not find in my self such
  • a necessary and indissoluble Sympathy to all those of my blood. I hope I
  • do not break the fifth Commandment, if I conceive I may love my friend
  • before the nearest of my blood, even those to whom I owe the principles
  • of life: I never yet cast a true affection on a woman, but I have loved
  • my friend as I do virtue, my soul, my God. From hence me thinks I do
  • conceive how God loves man, what happiness there is in the love of God.
  • Omitting all other, there are three most mystical unions, two natures in
  • one person; three persons in one nature; one soul in two bodies. For
  • though indeed they be really divided, yet are they so united, as they
  • seem but one, and make rather a duality than two distinct souls.
  • SECT. 6
  • There are wonders in true affection; it is a body of _Enigma's_,
  • mysteries, and riddles; wherein two so become one, as they both become
  • two: I love my friend before my self, and yet methinks I do not love him
  • enough: some few months hence, my multiplied affection will make me
  • believe I have not loved him at all: when I am from him, I am dead till
  • I be with him; when I am with him, I am not satisfied, but would still
  • be nearer him. United souls are not satisfied with imbraces, but desire
  • to be truly each other; which being impossible, their desires are
  • infinite, and must proceed without a possibility of satisfaction.
  • Another misery there is in affection, that whom we truly love like our
  • own, we forget their looks, nor can our memory retain the Idea of their
  • faces; and it is no wonder, for they are ourselves, and our affection
  • makes their looks our own. This noble affection falls not on vulgar and
  • common constitutions, but on such as are mark'd for virtue: he that can
  • love his friend with this noble ardour, will in a competent degree
  • affect all. Now if we can bring our affections to look beyond the body,
  • and cast an eye upon the soul, we have found out the true object, not
  • only of friendship, but Charity; and the greatest happiness that we can
  • bequeath the soul, is that wherein we all do place our last felicity,
  • Salvation; which though it be not in our power to bestow, it is in our
  • charity and pious invocations to desire, if not procure and further. I
  • cannot contentedly frame a prayer for my self in particular, without a
  • catalogue for my friends; nor request a happiness wherein my sociable
  • disposition doth not desire the fellowship of my neighbour. I never hear
  • the Toll of a passing Bell, though in my mirth, without my prayers and
  • best wishes for the departing spirit: I cannot go to cure the body of my
  • patient, but I forget my profession, and call unto God for his soul: I
  • cannot see one say his prayers, but in stead of imitating him, I fall
  • into a supplication for him, who perhaps is no more to me than a common
  • nature: and if God hath vouchsafed an ear to my supplications, there are
  • surely many happy that never saw me, and enjoy the blessing of mine
  • unknown devotions. To pray for Enemies, that is, for their salvation, is
  • no harsh precept, but the practice of our daily and ordinary devotions.
  • I cannot believe the story of the Italian: our bad wishes and
  • uncharitable desires proceed no further than this life; it is the Devil,
  • and the uncharitable votes of Hell, that desire our misery in the World
  • to come.
  • SECT. 7
  • To do no injury, nor take none, was a principle, which to my former
  • years, and impatient affections, seemed to contain enough of Morality;
  • but my more setled years, and Christian constitution, have fallen upon
  • severer resolutions. I can hold there is no such thing as injury; that
  • if there be, there is no such injury as revenge, and no such revenge as
  • the contempt of an injury: that to hate another, is to malign himself;
  • that the truest way to love another, is to despise our selves. I were
  • unjust unto mine own Conscience, if I should say I am at variance with
  • any thing like my self. I find there are many pieces in this one fabrick
  • of man; this frame is raised upon a mass of Antipathies: I am one
  • methinks, but as the World; wherein notwithstanding there are a swarm of
  • distinct essences, and in them another World of contrarieties; we carry
  • private and domestick enemies within, publick and more hostile
  • adversaries without. The Devil, that did but buffet St. _Paul_, plays
  • methinks at sharp with me. Let me be nothing, if within the compass of
  • my self I do not find the battail of _Lepanto_, Passion against Reason,
  • Reason against Faith, Faith against the Devil, and my Conscience against
  • all. There is another man within me, that's angry with me, rebukes,
  • commands, and dastards me. I have no Conscience of Marble, to resist the
  • hammer of more heavy offences; nor yet too soft and waxen, as to take
  • the impression of each single peccadillo or scape of infirmity: I am of
  • a strange belief, that it is as easie to be forgiven some sins, as to
  • commit some others. For my Original sin, I hold it to be washed away in
  • my Baptism, for my actual transgressions, I compute and reckon with God,
  • but from my last repentance, Sacrament, or general absolution; and
  • therefore am not terrified with the sins or madness of my youth. I thank
  • the goodness of God, I have no sins that want a name; I am not singular
  • in offences; my transgressions are Epidemical, and from the common
  • breath of our corruption. For there are certain tempers of body, which
  • matcht with an humorous depravity of mind, do hatch and produce
  • vitiosities, whose newness and monstrosity of nature admits no name;
  • this was the temper of that Lecher that fell in love with a Statua, and
  • constitution of _Nero_ in his Spintrian recreations. For the Heavens are
  • not only fruitful in new and unheard-of stars, the Earth in plants and
  • animals; but mens minds also in villany and vices: now the dulness of my
  • reason, and the vulgarity of my disposition, never prompted my
  • invention, nor sollicited my affection unto any of those; yet even those
  • common and quotidian infirmities that so necessarily attend me, and do
  • seem to be my very nature, have so dejected me, so broken the estimation
  • that I should have otherwise of my self, that I repute my self the most
  • abjectest piece of mortality. Divines prescribe a fit of sorrow to
  • repentance; there goes indignation, anger, sorrow, hatred, into mine;
  • passions of a contrary nature, which neither seem to sute with this
  • action, nor my proper constitution. It is no breach of charity to our
  • selves, to be at variance with our Vices; nor to abhor that part of us,
  • which is an enemy to the ground of charity, our God; wherein we do but
  • imitate our great selves the world, whose divided Antipathies and
  • contrary faces do yet carry a charitable regard unto the whole by their
  • particular discords, preserving the common harmony, and keeping in
  • fetters those powers, whose rebellions once Masters, might be the ruine
  • of all.
  • SECT. 8
  • I thank God, amongst those millions of Vices I do inherit and hold from
  • _Adam_, I have escaped one, and that a mortal enemy to Charity, the
  • first and father-sin[C], not onely of man, but of the devil, Pride; a
  • vice whose name is comprehended in a Monosyllable, but in its nature not
  • circumscribed with a World. I have escaped it in a condition that can
  • hardly avoid it. Those petty acquisitions and reputed perfections that
  • advance and elevate the conceits of other men, add no feathers unto
  • mine. I have seen a Grammarian towr and plume himself over a single line
  • in _Horace_, and shew more pride in the construction of one Ode, than
  • the Author in the composure of the whole book. For my own part, besides
  • the _Jargon_ and _Patois_ of several Provinces, I understand no less
  • than six Languages; yet I protest I have no higher conceit of my self,
  • than had our Fathers before the confusion of _Babel_, when there was but
  • one Language in the World, and none to boast himself either Linguist or
  • Critick. I have not onely seen several Countries, beheld the nature of
  • their Climes, the Chorography of their Provinces, Topography of their
  • Cities, but understood their several Laws, Customs, and Policies; yet
  • cannot all this perswade the dulness of my spirit unto such an opinion
  • of my self, as I behold in nimbler and conceited heads, that never
  • looked a degree beyond their Nests. I know the names, and somewhat more,
  • of all the constellations in my Horizon; yet I have seen a prating
  • Mariner, that could onely name the pointers and the North Star, out-talk
  • me, and conceit himself a whole Sphere above me. I know most of the
  • Plants of my Countrey, and of those about me; yet methinks I do not know
  • so many as when I did but know a hundred, and had scarcely ever Simpled
  • further than _Cheap-side_. For indeed, heads of capacity, and such as
  • are not full with a handful, or easie measure of knowledge, think they
  • know nothing, till they know all; which being impossible, they fall upon
  • the opinion of _Socrates_, and only know they know not any thing. I
  • cannot think that _Homer_ pin'd away upon the riddle of the fishermen;
  • or that _Aristotle_, who understood the uncertainty of knowledge, and
  • confessed so often the reason of man too weak for the works of nature,
  • did ever drown himself upon the flux and reflux of _Euripus_. We do but
  • learn to-day, what our better advanced judgements will unteach
  • to-morrow; and _Aristotle_ doth but instruct us, as _Plato_ did him;
  • that is, to confute himself. I have run through all sorts, yet find no
  • rest in any: though our first studies and _junior_ endeavours may style
  • us Peripateticks, Stoicks, or Academicks, yet I perceive the wisest
  • heads prove, at last, almost all Scepticks, and stand like _Janus_ in
  • the field of knowledge. I have therefore one common and authentick
  • Philosophy I learned in the Schools, whereby I discourse and satisfie
  • the reason of other men; another more reserved, and drawn from
  • experience, whereby I content mine own. _Solomon_, that complained of
  • ignorance in the height of knowledge, hath not only humbled my conceits,
  • but discouraged my endeavours. There is yet another conceit that hath
  • sometimes made me shut my books, which tells me it is a vanity to waste
  • our days in the blind pursuit of knowledge; it is but attending a little
  • longer, and we shall enjoy that by instinct and infusion, which we
  • endeavour at here by labour and inquisition. It is better to sit down in
  • a modest ignorance, and rest contented with the natural blessing of our
  • own reasons, than buy the uncertain knowledge of this life, with sweat
  • and vexation, which Death gives every fool _gratis_, and is an accessary
  • of our glorification.
  • [C] Farther-sin, 1682.
  • SECT. 9
  • I was never yet once, and commend their resolutions who never marry
  • twice: not that I disallow of second marriage; as neither in all cases,
  • of Polygamy, which considering some times, and the unequal number of
  • both sexes, may be also necessary. The whole World was made for man, but
  • the twelfth part of man for woman: Man is the whole World, and the
  • Breath of God; Woman the Rib and crooked piece of man. I could be
  • content that we might procreate like trees, without conjunction, or that
  • there were any way to perpetuate the World without this trivial and
  • vulgar way of coition; it is the foolishest act a wise man commits in
  • all his life; nor is there any thing that will more deject his cool'd
  • imagination, when he shall consider what an odd and unworthy piece of
  • folly he hath committed. I speak not in prejudice, nor am averse from
  • that sweet Sex, but naturally amorous of all that is beautiful; I can
  • look a whole day with delight upon a handsome Picture, though it be but
  • of an Horse. It is my temper, and I like it the better, to affect all
  • harmony; and sure there is musick even in the beauty, and the silent
  • note which _Cupid_ strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument.
  • For there is a musick where ever there is a harmony, order or
  • proportion; and thus far we may maintain the musick of the Sphears: for
  • those well-ordered motions, and regular paces, though they give no sound
  • unto the ear, yet to the understanding they strike a note most full of
  • harmony. Whosoever is harmonically composed, delights in harmony; which
  • makes me much distrust the symmetry of those heads which declaim against
  • all Church-Musick. For my self, not only from my obedience, but my
  • particular Genius, I do embrace it: for even that vulgar and
  • Tavern-Musick, which makes one man merry, another mad, strikes in me a
  • deep fit of devotion, and a profound contemplation of the first
  • Composer. There is something in it of Divinity more than the ear
  • discovers: it is an Hieroglyphical and shadowed lesson of the whole
  • World, and creatures of God; such a melody to the ear, as the whole
  • World well understood, would afford the understanding. In brief, it is a
  • sensible fit of that harmony, which intellectually sounds in the ears of
  • God. I will not say with _Plato_, the soul is an harmony, but
  • harmonical, and hath its nearest sympathy unto Musick: thus some whose
  • temper of body agrees, and humours the constitution of their souls, are
  • born Poets, though indeed all are naturally inclined unto Rhythme.
  • [16]This made _Tacitus_ in the very first line of his Story, fall upon a
  • verse, and _Cicero_ the worst of Poets, but [17]declaiming for a Poet,
  • falls in the very first sentence upon a perfect [18]Hexameter. I feel not
  • in me those sordid and unchristian desires of my profession; I do not
  • secretly implore and wish for Plagues, rejoyce at Famines, revolve
  • Ephemerides and Almanacks, in expectation of malignant Aspects, fatal
  • Conjunctions, and Eclipses: I rejoyce not at unwholesome Springs, nor
  • unseasonable Winters; my Prayer goes with the Husbandman's; I desire
  • every thing in its proper season, that neither men nor the times be put
  • out of temper. Let me be sick my self, if sometimes the malady of my
  • patient be not a disease unto me; I desire rather to cure his
  • infirmities than my own necessities: where I do him no good, methinks it
  • is scarce honest gain; though I confess 'tis but the worthy salary of
  • our well-intended endeavours. I am not only ashamed, but heartily sorry,
  • that besides death, there are diseases incurable; yet not for my own
  • sake, or that they be beyond my Art, but for the general cause and sake
  • of humanity, whose common cause I apprehend as mine own. And to speak
  • more generally, those three Noble Professions which all civil
  • Commonwealths do honour, are raised upon the fall of _Adam_, and are not
  • exempt from their infirmities; there are not only diseases incurable in
  • Physick, but cases indissolvable in Laws, Vices incorrigible in
  • Divinity: if general Councils may err, I do not see why particular
  • Courts should be infallible; their perfectest rules are raised upon the
  • erroneous reasons of Man; and the Laws of one, do but condemn the rules
  • of another; as _Aristotle_ oft-times the opinions of his Predecessours,
  • because, though agreeable to reason, yet were not consonant to his own
  • rules, and Logick of his proper Principles. Again, to speak nothing of
  • the Sin against the Holy Ghost, whose cure not onely, but whose nature
  • is unknown; I can cure the Gout or Stone in some, sooner than Divinity
  • Pride or Avarice in others. I can cure Vices by Physick, when they
  • remain incurable by Divinity; and shall obey my Pills, when they contemn
  • their precepts. I boast nothing, but plainly say, we all labour against
  • our own cure; for death is the cure of all diseases. There is no
  • Catholicon or universal remedy I know but this, which, though nauseous
  • to queasie stomachs, yet to prepared appetites is Nectar, and a pleasant
  • potion of immortality.
  • [16] _Urbem Roman in principio Reges habuere._
  • [17] _Pro Archiâ Poëtâ._
  • [18] _In qua me non inficior mediocriter esse._
  • SECT. 10
  • For my Conversation, it is like the Sun's with all men, and with a
  • friendly aspect to good and bad. Methinks there is no man bad, and the
  • worst, best; that is, while they are kept within the circle of those
  • qualities, wherein they are good; there is no man's mind of such
  • discordant and jarring a temper, to which a tunable disposition may not
  • strike a harmony. _Magnæ virtutes, nee minora vitia_; it is the posie of
  • the best natures, and may be inverted on the worst; there are in the
  • most depraved and venemous dispositions, certain pieces that remain
  • untoucht, which by an _Antiperistasis_ become more excellent, or by the
  • excellency of their antipathies are able to preserve themselves from the
  • contagion of their enemy vices, and persist intire beyond the general
  • corruption. For it is also thus in nature. The greatest Balsomes do lie
  • enveloped in the bodies of most powerful Corrosives; I say moreover, and
  • I ground upon experience, that poisons contain within themselves their
  • own Antidote, and that which preserves them from the venome of
  • themselves, without which they were not deleterious to others onely, but
  • to themselves also. But it is the corruption that I fear within me, not
  • the contagion of commerce without me. 'Tis that unruly regiment within
  • me, that will destroy me; 'tis I that do infect my self; the man without
  • a Navel yet lives in me; I feel that original canker corrode and devour
  • me; and therefore _Defenda me_ Dios _de me_, Lord deliver me from my
  • self, is a part of my Letany, and the first voice of my retired
  • imaginations. There is no man alone, because every man is a _Microcosm_,
  • and carries the whole World about him; _Nunquam minus solus quàm cum
  • solus_, though it be the Apothegme of a wise man, is yet true in the
  • mouth of a fool; indeed, though in a Wilderness, a man is never alone,
  • not only because he is with himself and his own thoughts, but because he
  • is with the Devil, who ever consorts with our solitude, and is that
  • unruly rebel that musters up those disordered motions which accompany
  • our sequestred imaginations. And to speak more narrowly, there is no
  • such thing as solitude, nor any thing that can be said to be alone and
  • by itself, but God, who is his own circle, and can subsist by himself;
  • all others, besides their dissimilary and Heterogeneous parts, which in
  • a manner multiply their natures, cannot subsist without the concourse of
  • God, and the society of that hand which doth uphold their natures. In
  • brief, there can be nothing truly alone and by it self, which is not
  • truly one; and such is only God: All others do transcend an unity, and
  • so by consequence are many.
  • SECT. 11
  • Now for my life, it is a miracle of thirty years, which to relate, were
  • not a History, but a piece of Poetry, and would sound to common ears
  • like a Fable; for the World, I count it not an Inn, but an Hospital; and
  • a place not to live, but to dye in. The world that I regard is my self;
  • it is the Microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on; for the
  • other, I use it but like my Globe, and turn it round sometimes for my
  • recreation. Men that look upon my outside, perusing only my condition
  • and Fortunes, do err in my Altitude, for I am above _Atlas_ his
  • shoulders. The earth is a point not only in respect of the Heavens above
  • us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us: that mass of
  • Flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind: that surface that tells
  • the Heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any: I take my
  • circle to be above three hundred and sixty; though the number of the
  • Ark do measure my body, it comprehendeth not my mind: whilst I study to
  • find how I am a Microcosm, or little World, I find my self something
  • more than the great. There is surely a piece of Divinity in us,
  • something that was before the Elements, and owes no homage unto the Sun.
  • Nature tells me I am the Image of God, as well as Scripture: he that
  • understands not thus much, hath not his introduction or first lesson,
  • and is yet to begin the Alphabet of man. Let me not injure the felicity
  • of others, if I say I am as happy as any: _Ruat cœlum, Fiat voluntas
  • tua_, salveth all; so that whatsoever happens, it is but what our daily
  • prayers desire. In brief, I am content, and what should providence add
  • more? Surely this is it we call Happiness, and this do I enjoy; with
  • this I am happy in a dream, and as content to enjoy a happiness in a
  • fancy, as others in a more apparent truth and realty. There is surely a
  • neerer apprehension of any thing that delights us in our dreams, than in
  • our waked senses; without this I were unhappy: for my awaked judgment
  • discontents me, ever whispering unto me, that I am from my friend; but
  • my friendly dreams in night requite me, and make me think I am within
  • his arms. I thank God for my happy dreams, as I do for my good rest, for
  • there is a satisfaction in them unto reasonable desires, and such as can
  • be content with a fit of happiness. And surely it is not a melancholy
  • conceit to think we are all asleep in this World, and that the conceits
  • of this life are as meer dreams to those of the next, as the Phantasms
  • of the night, to the conceits of the day. There is an equal delusion in
  • both, and the one doth but seem to be the embleme or picture of the
  • other; we are somewhat more than our selves in our sleeps, and the
  • slumber of the body seems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the
  • ligation of sense, but the liberty of reason, and our waking conceptions
  • do not match the Fancies of our sleeps. At my Nativity, my Ascendant was
  • the watery sign of _Scorpius_; I was born in the Planetary hour of
  • _Saturn_, and I think I have a piece of that Leaden Planet in me. I am
  • no way facetious, nor disposed for the mirth and galliardize of company;
  • yet in one dream I can compose a whole Comedy, behold the action,
  • apprehend the jests, and laugh my self awake at the conceits thereof:
  • were my memory as faithful as my reason is then fruitful, I would never
  • study but in my dreams; and this time also would I chuse for my
  • devotions: but our grosser memories have then so little hold of our
  • abstracted understandings, that they forget the story, and can only
  • relate to our awaked souls, a confused and broken tale of that that hath
  • passed. _Aristotle_, who hath written a singular Tract of Sleep, hath
  • not methinks throughly defined it; nor yet _Galen_, though he seem to
  • have corrected it; for those _Noctambuloes_ and night-walkers, though in
  • their sleep, do yet injoy the action of their senses: we must therefore
  • say that there is something in us that is not in the jurisdiction of
  • _Morpheus_; and that those abstracted and ecstatick souls do walk about
  • in their own corps, as spirits with the bodies they assume; wherein they
  • seem to hear, and feel, though indeed the Organs are destitute of sense,
  • and their natures of those faculties that should inform them. Thus it is
  • observed, that men sometimes upon the hour of their departure, do speak
  • and reason above themselves; for then the soul beginning to be freed
  • from the ligaments of the body, begins to reason like her self, and to
  • discourse in a strain above mortality.
  • SECT. 12
  • We term sleep a death, and yet it is waking that kills us, and destroys
  • those spirits that are the house of life. 'Tis indeed a part of life
  • that best expresseth death; for every man truely lives, so long as he
  • acts his nature, or some way makes good the faculties of himself:
  • _Themistocles_ therefore that slew his Soldier in his sleep, was a
  • merciful Executioner: 'tis a kind of punishment the mildness of no laws
  • hath invented; I wonder the fancy of _Lucan_ and _Seneca_ did not
  • discover it. It is that death by which we may be literally said to dye
  • daily; a death which _Adam_ dyed before his mortality; a death whereby
  • we live a middle and moderating point between life and death; in fine,
  • so like death, I dare not trust it without my prayers, and an half adieu
  • unto the World, and take my farewell in a Colloquy with God.
  • _The night is come, like to the day;
  • Depart not thou great God away.
  • Let not my sins, black as the night,
  • Eclipse the lustre of thy light.
  • Keep still in my Horizon; for to me
  • The Sun makes not the day, but thee.
  • Thou whose nature cannot sleep,
  • On my temples centry keep;
  • Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes,
  • Whose eyes are open while mine close.
  • Let no dreams my head infest,
  • But such as_ Jacob's _temples blest.
  • While I do rest, my Soul advance;
  • Make my sleep a holy trance.
  • That I may, my rest being wrought,
  • Awake into some holy thought;
  • And with as active vigour run
  • My course, as doth the nimble Sun.
  • Sleep is a death; O make me try,
  • By sleeping, what it is to die;
  • And as gently lay my head
  • On my grave, as now my bed.
  • Howere I rest, great God, let me
  • Awake again at last with thee.
  • And this assur'd, behold I lie
  • Securely, or to awake or die.
  • These are my drowsie days; in vain
  • I do now wake to sleep again:
  • O come that hour, when I shall never
  • Sleep again, but wake for ever._
  • This is the Dormative I take to bedward; I need no other _Laudanum_ than
  • this to make me sleep; after which, I close mine eyes in security,
  • content to take my leave of the Sun, and sleep unto the resurrection.
  • SECT. 13
  • The method I should use in distributive Justice, I often observe in
  • commutative; and keep a Geometrical proportion in both; whereby becoming
  • equable to others, I become unjust to my self, and supererogate in that
  • common principle, _Do unto others as thou wouldst be done unto thy
  • self_. I was not born unto riches, neither is it I think my Star to be
  • wealthy; or if it were, the freedom of my mind, and frankness of my
  • disposition, were able to contradict and cross my fates. For to me
  • avarice seems not so much a vice, as a deplorable piece of madness; to
  • conceive ourselves Urinals, or be perswaded that we are dead, is not so
  • ridiculous, nor so many degrees beyond the power of Hellebore, as this.
  • The opinion of Theory, and positions of men, are not so void of reason
  • as their practised conclusions: some have held that Snow is black, that
  • the earth moves, that the Soul is air, fire, water; but all this is
  • Philosophy, and there is no _delirium_, if we do but speculate the folly
  • and indisputable dotage of avarice, to that subterraneous Idol, and God
  • of the Earth. I do confess I am an Atheist; I cannot perswade myself to
  • honour that the World adores; whatsoever virtue its prepared substance
  • may have within my body, it hath no influence nor operation without: I
  • would not entertain a base design, or an action that should call me
  • villain, for the Indies; and for this only do I love and honour my own
  • soul, and have methinks two arms too few to embrace myself. _Aristotle_
  • is too severe, that will not allow us to be truely liberal without
  • wealth, and the bountiful hand of Fortune; if this be true, I must
  • confess I am charitable only in my liberal intentions, and bountiful
  • well-wishes. But if the example of the Mite be not only an act of
  • wonder, but an example of the noblest Charity, surely poor men may also
  • build Hospitals, and the rich alone have not erected Cathedrals. I have
  • a private method which others observe not; I take the opportunity of my
  • self to do good; I borrow occasion of Charity from mine own necessities,
  • and supply the wants of others, when I am in most need my self; for it
  • is an honest stratagem to make advantage of our selves, and so to
  • husband the acts of vertue, that where they were defective in one
  • circumstance, they may repay their want, and multiply their goodness in
  • another. I have not _Peru_ in my desires, but a competence, and ability
  • to perform those good works to which he hath inclined my nature. He is
  • rich, who hath enough to be charitable; and it is hard to be so poor,
  • that a noble mind may not find a way to this piece of goodness. _He that
  • giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord_; there is more Rhetorick in
  • that one sentence, than in a Library of Sermons; and indeed if those
  • Sentences were understood by the Reader, with the same Emphasis as they
  • are delivered by the Author, we needed not those Volumes of
  • instructions, but might be honest by an Epitome. Upon this motive only
  • I cannot behold a Beggar without relieving his Necessities with my
  • Purse, or his Soul with my Prayers; these scenical and accidental
  • differences between us, cannot make me forget that common and untoucht
  • part of us both; there is under these _Cantoes_ and miserable outsides,
  • these mutilate and semi-bodies, a soul of the same alloy with our own,
  • whose Genealogy is God as well as ours, and in as fair a way to
  • Salvation as our selves. Statists that labour to contrive a
  • Common-wealth without our poverty, take away the object of charity, not
  • understanding only the Common-wealth of a Christian, but forgetting the
  • prophecie of Christ.
  • SECT. 14
  • Now there is another part of charity, which is the Basis and Pillar of
  • this, and that is the love of God, for whom we love our neighbour; for
  • this I think charity, to love God for himself, and our neighbour for
  • God. All that is truly amiable is God, or as it were a divided piece of
  • him, that retains a reflex or shadow of himself. Nor is it strange that
  • we should place affection on that which is invisible; all that we truly
  • love is thus; what we adore under affection of our senses, deserves not
  • the honour of so pure a title. Thus we adore virtue, though to the eyes
  • of sense she be invisible: thus that part of our noble friends that we
  • love, is not that part that we imbrace, but that insensible part that
  • our arms cannot embrace. God being all goodness, can love nothing but
  • himself, and the traduction of his holy Spirit. Let us call to assize
  • the loves of our parents, the affection of our wives and children, and
  • they are all dumb shows and dreams, without reality, truth or constancy:
  • for first, there is a strong bond of affection between us and our
  • Parents; yet how easily dissolved? We betake our selves to a woman,
  • forget our mother in a wife, and the womb that bare us, in that that
  • shall bear our Image: this woman blessing us with children, our
  • affection leaves the level it held before, and sinks from our bed unto
  • our issue and picture of Posterity, where affection holds no steady
  • mansion. They, growing up in years, desire our ends; or applying
  • themselves to a woman, take a lawful way to love another better than our
  • selves. Thus I perceive a man may be buried alive, and behold his grave
  • in his own issue.
  • SECT. 15
  • I conclude therefore and say, there is no happiness under (or as
  • _Copernicus_ will have it, above) the Sun, nor any Crambe in that
  • repeated verity and burthen of all the wisdom of _Solomon, All is vanity
  • and vexation of Spirit_. There is no felicity in that the World adores:
  • _Aristotle_ whilst he labours to refute the Idea's of _Plato_, falls
  • upon one himself: for his _summum bonum_ is a _Chimæra_, and there is no
  • such thing as his Felicity. That wherein God himself is happy, the holy
  • Angels are happy, in whose defect the Devils are unhappy; that dare I
  • call happiness: whatsoever conduceth unto this, may with an easy
  • Metaphor deserve that name: whatsoever else the World terms Happiness,
  • is to me a story out of _Pliny_, a tale of _Boccace_ or _Malizspini_; an
  • apparition or neat delusion, wherein there is no more of Happiness, than
  • the name. Bless me in this life with but peace of my Conscience, command
  • of my affections, the love of thy self and my dearest friends, and I
  • shall be happy enough to pity _Cæsar_. These are, O Lord, the humble
  • desires of my most reasonable ambition, and all I dare call happiness
  • on earth; wherein I set no rule or limit to thy Hand or Providence;
  • dispose of me according to the wisdom of thy pleasure. Thy will be done,
  • though in my own undoing.
  • FINIS
  • PSEUDODOXIA EPIDEMICA
  • OR ENQUIRIES
  • INTO VERY MANY RECEIVED
  • TENENTS AND COMMONLY
  • PRESUMED TRUTHS
  • TO THE READER
  • _Would Truth dispense, we could be content, with_ Plato, _that knowledge
  • were but remembrance; that intellectual acquisition were but
  • reminiscential evocation, and new Impressions but the colouring of old
  • stamps which stood pale in the soul before. For what is worse, knowledge
  • is made by oblivion, and to purchase a clear and warrantable body of
  • Truth, we must forget and part with much we know. Our tender Enquiries
  • taking up Learning at large, and together with true and assured notions,
  • receiving many, wherein our reviewing judgments do find no satisfaction.
  • And therefore in this_ Encyclopædie _and round of Knowledge, like the
  • great and exemplary Wheels of Heaven, we must observe two Circles: that
  • while we are daily carried about, and whirled on by the swing and rapt
  • of the one, we may maintain a natural and proper course, in the slow and
  • sober wheel of the other. And this we shall more readily perform, if we
  • timely survey our knowledge; impartially singling out those
  • encroachments, which junior compliance and popular credulity hath
  • admitted. Whereof at present we have endeavoured a long and serious_
  • Adviso; _proposing not only a large and copious List, but from
  • experience and reason attempting their decisions._
  • _And first we crave exceeding pardon in the audacity of the Attempt,
  • humbly acknowledging a work of such concernment unto truth, and
  • difficulty in it self, did well deserve the conjunction of many heads.
  • And surely more advantageous had it been unto Truth, to have fallen into
  • the endeavors of some co-operating advancers, that might have performed
  • it to the life, and added authority thereto; which the privacy of our
  • condition, and unequal abilities cannot expect. Whereby notwithstanding
  • we have not been diverted; nor have our solitary attempts been so
  • discouraged, as to dispair the favourable look of Learning upon our
  • single and unsupported endeavours_.
  • _Nor have we let fall our Pen, upon discouragement of Contradiction,
  • Unbelief and Difficulty of disswasion from radicated beliefs, and points
  • of high prescription, although we are very sensible, how hardly teaching
  • years do learn, what roots old age contracteth unto errors, and how such
  • as are but acorns in our younger brows, grow Oaks in our elder heads,
  • and become inflexible unto the powerfullest arm of reason. Although we
  • have also beheld, what cold requitals others have found in their several
  • redemptions of Truth; and how their ingenuous Enquiries have been
  • dismissed with censure, and obloquie of singularities_.
  • [Sidenote: _Inspection of Urines._]
  • _Some consideration we hope from the course of our Profession, which
  • though it leadeth us into many truths that pass undiscerned by others,
  • yet doth it disturb their Communications, and much interrupt the office
  • of our Pens in their well intended Transmissions. And therefore surely
  • in this work attempts will exceed performances; it being composed by
  • snatches of time, as medical vacations, and the fruitless importunity
  • of_ Uroscopy _would permit us. And therefore also, perhaps it hath not
  • found that regular and constant stile, those infallible experiments and
  • those assured determinations, which the subject sometime requireth, and
  • might be expected from others, whose quiet doors and unmolested hours
  • afford no such distractions. Although whoever shall indifferently
  • perpend the exceeding difficulty, which either the obscurity of the
  • subject, or unavoidable paradoxology must often put upon the Attemptor,
  • he will easily discern, a work of this nature is not to be performed
  • upon one legg; and should smel of oyl, if duly and deservedly handled_.
  • _Our first intentions considering the common interest of Truth, resolved
  • to propose it unto the Latine republique and equal Judges of_ Europe,
  • _but owing in the first place this service unto our Country, and therein
  • especially unto its ingenuous Gentry, we have declared our self in a
  • language best conceived. Although I confess the quality of the Subject
  • will sometimes carry us into expressions beyond meer English
  • apprehensions. And indeed, if elegancy still proceedeth, and English
  • Pens maintain that stream, we have of late observed to flow from many;
  • we shall within few years be fain to learn Latine to understand English,
  • and a work will prove of equal facility in either. Nor have we addressed
  • our Pen or Stile unto the people (whom Books do not redress, and are
  • this way incapable of reduction), but unto the knowing and leading part
  • of Learning. As well understanding (at least probably hoping) except
  • they be watered from higher regions, and fructifying meteors of
  • Knowledge, these weeds must lose their alimental sap, and wither of
  • themselves. Whose conserving influence, could our endeavours prevent; we
  • should trust the rest unto the sythe of_ Time, _and hopefull dominion of
  • Truth_.
  • [Sidenote: περὶ τῶν ψευδῶς πεπιστευμένων, _Athenæi_, lib. 7.]
  • _We hope it will not be unconsidered, that we find no open tract, or
  • constant manuduction in this Labyrinth; but are oft-times fain to
  • wander in the_ America _and untravelled parts of Truth. For though not
  • many years past, Dr._ Primrose _hath made a learned Discourse of vulgar
  • Errors in Physick, yet have we discussed but two or three thereof._
  • Scipio Mercurii _hath also left an excellent tract in_ Italian,
  • _concerning popular Errors; but confining himself only unto those in
  • Physick, he hath little conduced unto the generality of our doctrine._
  • Laurentius Ioubertus, _by the same Title led our expectation into
  • thoughts of great relief; whereby notwithstanding we reaped no
  • advantage; it answering scarce at all the promise of the inscription.
  • Nor perhaps (if it were yet extant) should we find any farther
  • Assistance from that ancient piece of_ Andreas, _pretending the same
  • Title. And therefore we are often constrained to stand alone against the
  • strength of opinion, and to meet the_ Goliah _and Giant of Authority,
  • with contemptible pibbles, and feeble arguments, drawn from the scrip
  • and slender stock of our selves. Nor have we indeed scarce named any
  • Author whose name we do not honour; and if detraction could invite us,
  • discretion surely would contain us from any derogatory intention, where
  • highest Pens and friendliest eloquence must fail in commendation_.
  • _And therefore also we cannot but hope the equitable considerations, and
  • candour of reasonable minds. We cannot expect the frown of_ Theology
  • _herein; nor can they which behold the present state of things, and
  • controversie of points so long received in Divinity, condemn our sober
  • Enquiries in the doubtfull appertinancies of Arts, and Receptaries of
  • Philosophy. Surely Philologers and Critical Discoursers, who look beyond
  • the shell and obvious exteriours of things, will not be angry with our
  • narrower explorations. And we cannot doubt, our Brothers in Physick
  • (whose knowledge in Naturals will lead them into a nearer apprehension
  • of many things delivered) will friendly accept, if not countenance our
  • endeavours. Nor can we conceive it may be unwelcome unto those honoured
  • Worthies, who endeavour the advancement of Learning: as being likely to
  • find a clearer progression, when so many rubs are levelled, and many
  • untruths taken off, which passing as principles with common beliefs,
  • disturb the tranquility of Axioms, which otherwise might be raised. And
  • wise men cannot but know, that arts and learning want this expurgation:
  • and if the course of truth be permitted unto its self, like that of time
  • and uncorrected computations, it cannot escape many errors, which
  • duration still enlargeth_.
  • _Lastly, we are not Magisterial in opinions, nor have we Dictator-like
  • obtruded our conceptions; but in the humility of Enquiries or
  • disquisitions, have only proposed them unto more ocular discerners. And
  • therefore opinions are free, and open it is for any to think or declare
  • the contrary. And we shall so far encourage contradiction, as to promise
  • no disturbance, or re-oppose any Pen, that shall fallaciously or
  • captiously refute us_; _that shall only lay hold of our lapses, single
  • out Digressions, Corollaries, or Ornamental conceptions, to evidence his
  • own in as indifferent truths. And shall only take notice of such, whose
  • experimental and judicious knowledge shall solemnly look upon it; not
  • only to destroy of ours, but to establish of his own; not to traduce or
  • extenuate, but to explain and dilucidate, to add and ampliate, according
  • to the laudable custom of the Ancients in their sober promotions of
  • Learning. Unto whom notwithstanding, we shall not contentiously rejoin,
  • or only to justifie our own, but to applaud or confirm his maturer
  • assertions; and shall confer what is in us unto his name and honour;
  • Ready to be swallowed in any worthy enlarger: as having acquired our
  • end, if any way, or under any name we may obtain a work, so much
  • desired, and yet desiderated of Truth._
  • _THOMAS BROWN._
  • THE POSTSCRIPT
  • Readers,
  • _To enform you of the Advantages of the present Impression, and disabuse
  • your expectations of any future Enlargements; these are to advertise
  • thee, that this Edition comes forth with very many Explanations,
  • Additions, and Alterations throughout, besides that of one entire
  • Chapter: But that now this Work is compleat and perfect, expect no
  • further Additions._
  • THE FIRST BOOK
  • OR GENERAL PART
  • CHAPTER I
  • Of the Causes of Common Errors.
  • [Sidenote: _The Introduction._]
  • The First and Father-cause of common Error, is, The common infirmity of
  • Human Nature; of whose deceptible condition, although perhaps there
  • should not need any other eviction, than the frequent Errors we shall
  • our selves commit, even in the express declarement hereof: yet shall we
  • illustrate the same from more infallible constitutions, and persons
  • presumed as far from us in condition, as time, that is, our first and
  • ingenerated forefathers. From whom as we derive our Being, and the
  • several wounds of constitution; so, may we in some manner excuse our
  • infirmities in the depravity of those parts, whose Traductions were pure
  • in them, and their Originals but once removed from God. Who
  • notwithstanding (if posterity may take leave to judge of the fact, as
  • they are assured to suffer in the punishment) were grossly deceived, in
  • their perfection; and so weakly deluded in the clarity of their
  • understanding, that it hath left no small obscurity in ours, How error
  • should gain upon them.
  • [Sidenote: _Matter of great dispute, how our first parents could be so
  • deceived._]
  • For first, They were deceived by Satan; and that not in an invisible
  • insinuation; but an open and discoverable apparition, that is, in the
  • form of a Serpent; whereby although there were many occasions of
  • suspition, and such as could not easily escape a weaker circumspection,
  • yet did the unwary apprehension of _Eve_ take no advantage thereof. It
  • hath therefore seemed strange unto some, she should be deluded by a
  • Serpent, or subject her reason to a beast, which God had subjected unto
  • hers. It hath empuzzled the enquiries of others to apprehend, and
  • enforced them unto strange conceptions, to make out, how without fear or
  • doubt she could discourse with such a creature, or hear a Serpent speak,
  • without suspition of Imposture. The wits of others have been so bold, as
  • to accuse her simplicity, in receiving his Temptation so coldly; and
  • when such specious effects of the Fruit were Promised, as to make them
  • like God; not to desire, at least not to wonder he pursued not that
  • benefit himself. And had it been their own case, would perhaps have
  • replied, If the tast of this Fruit maketh the eaters like _Gods_, why
  • remainest thou a Beast? If it maketh us but _like Gods_, we are so
  • already. If thereby our eyes shall be opened hereafter, they are at
  • present quick enough, to discover thy deceit; and we desire them no
  • opener, to behold our own shame. If to know good and evil be our
  • advantage, although we have Free-will unto both, we desire to perform
  • but one; We know 'tis good to obey the commandement of God, but evil if
  • we transgress it.
  • [Sidenote: Adam _supposed by some to have been the wisest man that ever
  • was._]
  • They were deceived by one another, and in the greatest disadvantage of
  • Delusion, that is, the stronger by the weaker: For _Eve_ presented the
  • Fruit, and _Adam_ received it from her. Thus the _Serpent_ was cunning
  • enough, to begin the deceit in the weaker, and the weaker of strength,
  • sufficient to consummate the fraud in the stronger. Art and fallacy was
  • used unto her; a naked offer proved sufficient unto him: So his
  • superstruction was his Ruine, and the fertility of his Sleep an issue of
  • Death unto him. And although the condition of Sex, and posteriority of
  • Creation, might somewhat extenuate the Error of the Woman: Yet was it
  • very strange and inexcusable in the Man; especially, if as some affirm,
  • he was the wisest of all men since; or if, as others have conceived, he
  • was not ignorant of the Fall of the Angels, and had thereby Example and
  • punishment to deterr him.
  • [Sidenote: Adam _and_ Eve _how they fell._]
  • They were deceived from themselves, and their own apprehensions; for
  • _Eve_ either mistook, or traduced the commandment of God. _Of every Tree
  • of the Garden thou mayest freely eat, but of the Tree of knowledge of
  • good and evil thou shalt not eat: for in the day thou eatest thereof,
  • thou shall surely die._ Now _Eve_ upon the question of the _Serpent_,
  • returned the Precept in different terms: _You shall not eat of it,
  • neither shall you touch it, less perhaps you die._ In which delivery,
  • there were no less than two mistakes, or rather additional mendacities;
  • for the Commandment forbad not the touch of the Fruit; and positively
  • said, _Ye shall surely die_: but she extenuating, replied, _ne fortè
  • moriamini, lest perhaps ye die_. For so in the vulgar translation it
  • runneth, and so it is expressed in the _Thargum_ or Paraphrase of
  • _Jonathan_. And therefore although it be said, and that very truely,
  • _that the Devil was a lyer from the beginning_, yet was the Woman herein
  • the first express beginner: and falsified twice, before the reply of
  • _Satan_. And therefore also, to speak strictly, the sin of the Fruit was
  • not the first Offence: They first transgressed the Rule of their own
  • Reason; and after the Commandment of God.
  • They were deceived through the Conduct of their Senses, and by
  • Temptations from the Object it self; whereby although their
  • intellectuals had not failed in the Theory of truth, yet did the
  • inservient and brutal Faculties controll the suggestion of Reason:
  • Pleasure and Profit already overswaying the instructions of Honesty, and
  • Sensuality perturbing the reasonable commands of Vertue. For so it is
  • delivered in the Text: That when the Woman saw, _that the Tree was good
  • for food_, and _that it was pleasant unto the eye_, and _a Tree to be
  • desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof and did eat_.
  • Now hereby it appeareth, that _Eve_, before the Fall, was by the same
  • and beaten away of allurements inveigled, whereby her posterity hath
  • been deluded ever since; that is, those three delivered by St. _John,
  • The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life_:
  • Where indeed they seemed as weakly to fail, as their debilitated
  • posterity, ever after. Whereof notwithstanding, some in their
  • imperfection, have resisted more powerful temptations; and in many
  • moralities condemned the facility of their seductions.
  • [Sidenote: Adam _whence (probably) induced to eat._]
  • [Sidenote: _Whether_ Cain _intended to kill_ Abel.]
  • Again, they might, for ought we know, be still deceived in the unbelief
  • of their Mortality, even after they had eat of the Fruit: For, _Eve_
  • observing no immediate execution of the Curse, she delivered the Fruit
  • unto _Adam_: who, after the tast thereof, perceiving himself still to
  • live, might yet remain in doubt, whether he had incurred Death; which
  • perhaps he did not indubitably believe, until he was after convicted in
  • the visible example of _Abel_. For he that would not believe the Menace
  • of God at first, it may be doubted whether, before an ocular example, he
  • believed the Curse at last. And therefore they are not without all
  • reason, who have disputed the Fact of _Cain_: that is, although he
  • purposed to do mischief, whether he intended to kill his Brother; or
  • designed that, whereof he had not beheld an example in his own kind.
  • There might be somewhat in it, that he would not have done, or desired
  • undone, when he brake forth as desperately, as before he had done
  • uncivilly, _My iniquity is greater than can be forgiven me_.
  • [Sidenote: _The_ Thalmudist's _Allegories upon the History of_ Adam
  • _and_ Eve's _Fall._]
  • Some nicities I confess there are which extenuate, but many more that
  • aggravate this Delusion; which exceeding the bounds of this Discourse,
  • and perhaps our Satisfaction, we shall at present pass over. And
  • therefore whether the Sin of our First Parents were the greatest of any
  • since; whether the transgression of _Eve_ seducing, did not exceed that
  • of _Adam_ seduced; or whether the resistibility of his Reason, did not
  • equivalence the facility of her Seduction; we shall refer it to the
  • _Schoolman_; Whether there was not in _Eve_ as great injustice in
  • deceiving her husband, as imprudence in being deceived her self;
  • especially, if foretasting the Fruit, her eyes were opened before his,
  • and she knew the effect of it, before he tasted of it; we leave it unto
  • the _Moralist_. Whether the whole relation be not Allegorical, that is,
  • whether the temptation of the Man by the Woman, be not the seduction of
  • the rational and higher parts by the inferiour and feminine faculties;
  • or whether the Tree in the midst of the Garden, were not that part in
  • the Center of the body, in which was afterward the appointment of
  • Circumcision in Males, we leave it unto the _Thalmudist_. Whether there
  • were any Policy in the Devil to tempt them before the Conjunction, or
  • whether the Issue before tentation, might in justice have suffered with
  • those after, we leave it unto the _Lawyer_. Whether _Adam_ foreknew the
  • advent of Christ, or the reparation of his Error by his Saviour; how the
  • execution of the Curse should have been ordered, if, after _Eve_ had
  • eaten, _Adam_ had yet refused. Whether if they had tasted the Tree of
  • life, before that of Good and Evil, they had yet suffered the curse of
  • Mortality: or whether the efficacy of the one had not over-powred the
  • penalty of the other, we leave it unto GOD. For he alone can truly
  • determine these, and all things else; Who as he hath proposed the World
  • unto our disputation, so hath he reserved many things unto his own
  • resolution; whose determination we cannot hope from flesh, but must with
  • reverence suspend unto that great Day, whose justice shall either
  • condemn our curiosities, or resolve our disquisitions.
  • Lastly, Man was not only deceivable in his Integrity, but the Angels of
  • light in all their Clarity. He that said, He would be like the highest
  • did erre, if in some way he conceived himself so already: but in
  • attempting so high an effect from himself, he mis-understood the nature
  • of God, and held a false apprehension of his own; whereby vainly
  • attempting not only insolencies, but impossibilities, he deceived
  • himself as low as Hell. In brief, there is nothing infallible but GOD,
  • who cannot possibly erre. For things are really true as they correspond
  • unto his conception; and have so much verity as they hold of conformity
  • unto that Intellect, in whose _Idea_ they had their first
  • determinations. And therefore being the Rule, he cannot be Irregular;
  • nor, being Truth it self, conceaveably admit the impossible society of
  • Error.
  • CHAPTER II
  • A further Illustration of the same.
  • Being thus deluded before the Fall, it is no wonder if their conceptions
  • were deceitful, and could scarce speak without an Error after. For, what
  • is very remarkable (and no man that I know hath yet observed) in the
  • relations of Scripture before the Flood, there is but one speech
  • delivered by Man, wherein there is not an erroneous conception; and,
  • strictly examined, most hainously injurious unto truth. The pen of
  • _Moses_ is brief in the account before the Flood, and the speeches
  • recorded are but six. The first is that of _Adam_, when upon the
  • expostulation of God, he replied; _I heard thy voice in the Garden, and
  • because I was naked I hid my self_. In which reply, there was included a
  • very gross Mistake, and, if with pertinacity maintained, a high and
  • capital Error. For thinking by this retirement to obscure himself from
  • God, he infringed the omnisciency and essential Ubiquity of his Maker,
  • Who as he created all things, so is he beyond and in them all, not only
  • in power, as under his subjection, or in his presence, as being in his
  • cognition; but in his very Essence, as being the soul of their
  • causalities, and the essential cause of their existencies. Certainly,
  • his posterity at this distance and after so perpetuated an impairment,
  • cannot but condemn the poverty of his conception, that thought to
  • obscure himself from his Creator in the shade of the Garden, who had
  • beheld him before in the darkness of his Chaos, and the great obscurity
  • of Nothing; that thought to fly from God, which could not fly himself;
  • or imagined that one tree should conceal his nakedness from Gods eye, as
  • another had revealed it unto his own. Those tormented Spirits that wish
  • the mountains to cover them, have fallen upon desires of minor
  • absurdity, and chosen ways of less improbable concealment. Though this
  • be also as ridiculous unto reason, as fruitless unto their desires; for
  • he that laid the foundations of the Earth, cannot be excluded the
  • secrecy of the Mountains; nor can there any thing escape the
  • perspicacity of those eyes which were before light, and in whose opticks
  • there is no opacity. This is the consolation of all good men, unto whom
  • his Ubiquity affordeth continual comfort and security: And this is the
  • affliction of Hell, unto whom it affordeth despair, and remediless
  • calamity. For those restless Spirits that fly the face of the Almighty,
  • being deprived the fruition of his eye, would also avoid the extent of
  • his hand; which being impossible, their sufferings are desperate, and
  • their afflictions without evasion; until they can get out of
  • _Trismegistus_ his Circle, that is, to extend their wings above the
  • Universe, and pitch beyond Ubiquity.
  • The Second is that Speech of _Adam_ unto God; _The woman whom thou
  • gavest me to be with me, she gave me of the Tree, and I did eat_. This
  • indeed was an unsatisfactory reply, and therein was involved a very
  • impious Error, as implying God the Author of sin, and accusing his Maker
  • of his transgression. As if he had said, If thou hadst not given me a
  • woman, I had not been deceived: Thou promisedst to make her a help, but
  • she hath proved destruction unto me: Had I remained alone, I had not
  • sinned; but thou gavest me a Consort, and so I became seduced. This was
  • a bold and open accusation of God, making the fountain of good, the
  • contriver of evil, and the forbidder of the crime an abettor of the
  • fact prohibited. Surely, his mercy was great that did not revenge the
  • impeachment of his justice; And his goodness to be admired, that it
  • refuted not his argument in the punishment of his excusation, and only
  • pursued the first transgression without a penalty of this the second.
  • The third was that of _Eve; The Serpent beguiled me, and I did eat_. In
  • which reply, there was not only a very feeble excuse, but an erroneous
  • translating her own offence upon another; Extenuating her sin from that
  • which was an aggravation, that is, to excuse the Fact at all, much more
  • upon the suggestion of a beast, which was before in the strictest terms
  • prohibited by her God. For although we now do hope the mercies of God
  • will consider our degenerated integrities unto some minoration of our
  • offences; yet had not the sincerity of our first parents so colourable
  • expectations, unto whom the commandment was but single, and their
  • integrities best able to resist the motions of its transgression. And
  • therefore so heinous conceptions have risen hereof, that some have
  • seemed more angry therewith, than God himself: Being so exasperated with
  • the offence, as to call in question their salvation, and to dispute the
  • eternal punishment of their Maker. Assuredly with better reason may
  • posterity accuse them than they the Serpent or one another; and the
  • displeasure of the _Pelagians_ must needs be irreconcilable, who
  • peremptorily maintaining they can fulfil the whole Law, will
  • insatisfactorily condemn the non-observation of one.
  • [Sidenote: _The Devill knew not our Saviour to be God when he tempted
  • him._]
  • The fourth, was that speech of _Cain_ upon the demand of God, _Where is
  • thy brother?_ and he said, _I know not_. In which Negation, beside the
  • open impudence, there was implied a notable Error; for returning a lie
  • unto his Maker, and presuming in this manner to put off the Searcher of
  • hearts, he denied the omnisciency of God, whereunto there is nothing
  • concealable. The answer of Satan in the case of _Job_, had more of
  • truth, wisdom, and Reverence, this; _Whence comest thou Satan?_ and he
  • said, _From compassing of the Earth_. For though an enemy of God, and
  • hater of all Truth, his wisdom will hardly permit him to falsifie with
  • the All-mighty. For well understanding the Omniscience of his nature, he
  • is not so ready to deceive himself, as to falsifie unto him whose
  • cognition is no way deludable. And therefore when in the tentation of
  • Christ he played upon the fallacy, and thought to deceive the Author of
  • Truth, the Method of this proceeding arose from the uncertainty of his
  • Divinity; whereof had he remained assured, he had continued silent; nor
  • would his discretion attempt so unsucceedable a temptation. And so again
  • at the last day, when our offences shall be drawn into accompt, the
  • subtilty of that Inquisitor shall not present unto God a bundle of
  • calumnies or confutable accusations, but will discreetly offer up unto
  • his Omnisciency, a true and undeniable list of our transgressions.
  • The fifth is another reply of _Cain_ upon the denouncement of his curse,
  • _My iniquity is greater then can be forgiven_: For so it is expressed in
  • some Translations. The assertion was not only desperate, but the conceit
  • erroneous, overthrowing that glorious Attribute of God, his Mercy, and
  • conceiving the sin of murder unpardonable. Which how great soever, is
  • not above the repentance of man; but far below the mercies of God, and
  • was (as some conceive) expiated in that punishment he suffered
  • temporally for it. There are but two examples of this error in holy
  • Scripture, and they both for Murder, and both as it were of the same
  • person; for Christ was mystically slain in _Abel_, and therefore _Cain_
  • had some influence on his death as well as _Judas_; but the sin had a
  • different effect on _Cain_, from that it had on _Judas_; and most that
  • since have fallen into it. For they like _Judas_ desire death, and not
  • unfrequently pursue it: _Cain_ on the contrary grew afraid thereof, and
  • obtained a securement from it. Assuredly, if his despair continued,
  • there was punishment enough in life, and Justice sufficient in the mercy
  • of his protection. For the life of the desperate equalls the anxieties
  • of death; who in uncessant inquietudes but act the life of the damned,
  • and anticipate the desolations of Hell. 'Tis indeed a sin in man, but a
  • punishment only in Devils, who offend not God but afflict themselves, in
  • the appointed despair of his mercies. And as to be without hope is the
  • affliction of the damned, so is it the happiness of the blessed; who
  • having all their expectations present, are not distracted with
  • futurities: So is it also their felicity to have no Faith; for enjoying
  • the beatifical vision, there is nothing unto them inevident; and in the
  • fruition of the object of Faith, they have received the full evacuation
  • of it.
  • [Sidenote: Cain, _as the Rabbins think, was the man slain by_ Lamech,
  • _Gen. 4, 23._]
  • The last speech was that of _Lamech, I have slain a man to my wound, and
  • a young man in my hurt_: If _Cain_ be avenged seven fold, truly _Lamech_
  • seventy and seven fold. Now herein there seems to be a very erroneous
  • Illation: from the Indulgence of God unto _Cain_, concluding an immunity
  • unto himself; that is, a regular protection from a single example, and
  • an exemption from punishment in a fact that naturally deserved it. The
  • Error of this offender was contrary to that of _Cain_, whom the
  • _Rabbins_ conceive that _Lamech_ at this time killed. He despaired in
  • Gods mercy in the same Fact, where this presumed of it; he by a
  • decollation of all hope annihilated his mercy, this by an immoderancy
  • thereof destroyed his Justice. Though the sin were less, the Error was
  • as great; For as it is untrue, that his mercy will not forgive
  • offenders, or his benignity co-operate to their conversions; So is it
  • also of no less falsity to affirm His justice will not exact account of
  • sinners, or punish such as continue in their transgressions.
  • Thus may we perceive, how weakly our fathers did Erre before the Floud,
  • how continually and upon common discourse they fell upon Errors after;
  • it is therefore no wonder we have been erroneous ever since. And being
  • now at greatest distance from the beginning of Error, are almost lost in
  • its dissemination, whose waies are boundless, and confess no
  • circumscription.
  • CHAPTER III
  • Of the second cause of Popular Errors; the erroneous disposition of the
  • People.
  • Having thus declared the infallible nature of Man even from his first
  • production, we have beheld the general cause of Error. But as for
  • popular Errors, they are more neerly founded upon an erroneous
  • inclination of the people; as being the most deceptable part of Mankind
  • and ready with open armes to receive the encroachments of Error. Which
  • condition of theirs although deducible from many Grounds, yet shall we
  • evidence it but from a few, and such as most neerly and undeniably
  • declare their natures.
  • How unequal discerners of truth they are, and openly exposed unto
  • Error, will first appear from their unqualified intellectuals, unable to
  • umpire the difficulty of its dissensions. For Error, to speak largely,
  • is a false judgment of things, or, an assent unto falsity. Now whether
  • the object whereunto they deliver up their assent be true or false, they
  • are incompetent judges.
  • For the assured truth of things is derived from the principles of
  • knowledge, and causes which determine their verities. Whereof their
  • uncultivated understandings, scarce holding any theory, they are but bad
  • discerners of verity; and in the numerous track of Error, but casually
  • do hit the point and unity of truth.
  • [Sidenote: _Arguments of sensitive quality most prevailing upon vulgar
  • capacities._]
  • Their understanding is so feeble in the discernment of falsities, and
  • averting the Errors of reason, that it submitteth unto the fallacies of
  • sense, and is unable to rectifie the Error of its sensations. Thus the
  • greater part of Mankind having but one eye of Sense and Reason, conceive
  • the Earth far bigger than the Sun, the fixed Stars lesser than the Moon,
  • their figures plain, and their spaces from Earth equidistant. For thus
  • their Sense informeth them, and herein their reason cannot Rectifie
  • them; and therefore hopelesly continuing in mistakes, they live and die
  • in their absurdities; passing their days in perverted apprehensions, and
  • conceptions of the World, derogatory unto God, and the wisdom of the
  • Creation.
  • Again, being so illiterate in the point of intellect, and their sense so
  • incorrected, they are farther indisposed ever to attain unto truth; as
  • commonly proceeding in those wayes, which have most reference unto
  • sense, and wherein there lyeth most notable and popular delusion.
  • For being unable to wield the intellectuall arms of reason, they are
  • fain to betake themselves unto wasters, and the blunter weapons of
  • truth: affecting the gross and sensible ways of Doctrine, and such as
  • will not consist with strict and subtile Reason. [SN: _Fable._] Thus
  • unto them a piece of Rhetorick is a sufficient argument of Logick; an
  • Apologue of _Esop_, beyond a Syllogysm in _Barbara_; parables than
  • propositions, and proverbs more powerful than demonstrations. And
  • therefore are they led rather by Example, than Precept; receiving
  • perswasions from visible inducements, before electual instructions. And
  • therefore also they judge of human actions by the event; for being
  • uncapable of operable circumstances, or rightly to judge the
  • prudentiality of affairs, they only gaze upon the visible success, and
  • therefore condemn or cry up the whole progression. And so from this
  • ground in the Lecture of holy Scripture, their apprehensions are
  • commonly confined unto the literal sense of the Text, from whence have
  • ensued the gross and duller sort of Heresies. For not attaining the
  • deuteroscopy, and second intention of the words, they are fain to omit
  • the Superconsequencies, Coherencies, Figures, or Tropologies; and are
  • not sometime perswaded by fire beyond their literalities. And therefore
  • also things invisible, but into intellectual discernments, to humour the
  • grossness of their comprehensions, have been degraded from their proper
  • forms, and God Himself dishonoured into manual expressions. And so
  • likewise being unprovided, or unsufficient for higher speculations, they
  • will alwayes betake themselves unto sensible representations, and can
  • hardly be restrained the dulness of Idolatry: A sin or folly not only
  • derogatory unto God but men; overthrowing their Reason, as well as his
  • Divinity. In brief, a reciprocation, or rather, an inversion of the
  • Creation, making God one way, as he made us another; that is, after our
  • Image, as he made us after His own.
  • Moreover, their understanding thus weak in it self, and perverted by
  • sensible delusions, is yet farther impaired by the dominion of their
  • appetite; that is, the irrational and brutal part of the soul, which
  • lording it over the soveraign faculty, interrupts the actions of that
  • noble part, and choaks those tender sparks, which _Adam_ hath left them
  • of reason. And therefore they do not only swarm with Errors, but vices
  • depending thereon. Thus they commonly affect no man any further than he
  • deserts his reason, or complies with their aberrancies. Hence they
  • imbrace not vertue for it self, but its reward; and the argument from
  • pleasure or Utility is far more powerful, than that from vertuous
  • Honesty: which _Mahomet_ and his contrivers well understood, when he set
  • out the felicity of his Heaven, by the contentments of flesh, and the
  • delights of sense, slightly passing over the accomplishment of the Soul,
  • and the beatitude of that part which Earth and visibilities too weakly
  • affect. But the wisdom of our Saviour, and the simplicity of his truth
  • proceeded another way; defying the popular provisions of happiness from
  • sensible expectations; placing his felicity in things removed from
  • sense, and the intellectual enjoyment of God. And therefore the doctrine
  • of the one was never afraid of Universities, or endeavoured the
  • banishment of learning, like the other. And though _Galen_ doth
  • sometimes nibble at _Moses_, and, beside the Apostate Christian, [SN:
  • _Julian._] some _Heathens_ have questioned his Philosophical part, or
  • treaty of the Creation: Yet is there surely no reasonable _Pagan_, that
  • will not admire the rational and well grounded precepts of Christ; whose
  • life, as it was conformable unto his Doctrine, so was that unto the
  • highest rules of Reason; and must therefore flourish in the advancement
  • of learning, and the perfection of parts best able to comprehend it.
  • [Sidenote: Non sani esse hominis, non sanus juret Orestes.]
  • Again, Their individual imperfections being great, they are moreover
  • enlarged by their aggregation; and being erroneous in their single
  • numbers, once hudled together, they will be Error it self. For being a
  • confusion of knaves and fools, and a farraginous concurrence of all
  • conditions, tempers, sexes, and ages; it is but natural if their
  • determinations be monstrous, and many wayes inconsistent with Truth. And
  • therefore wise men have alwaies applauded their own judgment, in the
  • contradiction of that of the people; and their soberest adversaries,
  • have ever afforded them the stile of fools and mad men; and, to speak
  • impartially, their actions have made good these _Epithets_. Had
  • _Orestes_ been Judge, he would not have acquitted that _Lystrian_ rabble
  • of madness, who, upon a visible miracle, falling into so high a conceit
  • of _Paul_ and _Barnabas_, that they termed the one _Jupiter_, the other
  • _Mercurius_; that they brought Oxen and Garlands, and were hardly
  • restrained from sacrificing unto them; did notwithstanding suddenly
  • after fall upon _Paul_, and having stoned him drew him for dead out of
  • the City. It might have hazarded the sides of _Democritus_, had he been
  • present at that tumult of _Demetrius_; when the people flocking together
  • in great numbers, some crying one thing, and some another, and the
  • assembly was confused, and the most part knew not wherefore they were
  • come together; notwithstanding, all with one voice for the space of two
  • hours cried out, Great is _Diana_ of the _Ephesians_. It had overcome
  • the patience of _Job_, as it did the meekness of _Moses_, and would
  • surely have mastered any, but the longanimity, and lasting sufferance of
  • God; had they beheld the Mutiny in the wilderness, when, after ten
  • great Miracles in _Egypt_, and some in the same place, they melted down
  • their stoln ear-rings into a Calf, and monstrously cryed out; _These are
  • thy Gods_, O Israel, _that brought thee out of the land_ of Egypt. It
  • much accuseth the impatience of _Peter_, who could not endure the staves
  • of the multitude, and is the greatest example of lenity in our Saviour,
  • when he desired of God forgiveness unto those, who having one day
  • brought him into the City in triumph, did presently after, act all
  • dishonour upon him, and nothing could be heard but, _Crucifige_, in
  • their Courts. Certainly he that considereth these things in God's
  • peculiar people will easily discern how little of truth there is in the
  • wayes of the Multitude; and though sometimes they are flattered with
  • that _Aphorism_, will hardly believe, The voice of the people to be the
  • voice of God.
  • Lastly, being thus divided from truth in themselves, they are yet
  • farther removed by advenient deception. For true it is (and I hope I
  • shall not offend their vulgarities,) if I say, they are daily mocked
  • into Error by subtler devisors, and have been expressly deluded by all
  • professions and ages. Thus the _Priests_ of Elder time, have put upon
  • them many incredible conceits, not only deluding their apprehensions
  • with Ariolation, South-saying, and such oblique Idolatries, but winning
  • their credulities unto the literal and down right adorement of Cats,
  • Lizzards, and Beetles. And thus also in some Christian Churches, wherein
  • is presumed an irreprovable truth, if all be true that is suspected, or
  • half what is related; there have not wanted many strange deceptions, and
  • some thereof are still confessed by the name of Pious Frauds. Thus
  • _Theudas_ an Impostor was able to lead away Four thousand into the
  • Wilderness. and the delusions of _Mahomet_ almost the fourth part of
  • Mankind. Thus all Heresies, how gross soever, have found a welcome with
  • the people. For thus, many of the Jews were wrought into belief that
  • _Herod_ was the _Messias_; and _David George_ of _Leyden and Arden_,
  • were not without a party amongst the people, who maintained the same
  • opinion of themselves almost in our days.
  • [Sidenote: _The Author's Censure upon Judgment by Urine._]
  • Physitians (many at least that make profession thereof) beside divers
  • less discoverable wayes of fraud, have made them believe, there is the
  • book of fate, or the power of _Aarons_ breast-plate, in Urins. And
  • therefore hereunto they have recourse, as unto the Oracle of life, the
  • great determinator of Virginity, Conception, Fertility, and the
  • Inscrutable infirmities of the whole Body. For as though there were a
  • seminality in Urine, or that, like the Seed, it carried with it the
  • _Idea_ of every part, they foolishly conceive, we visibly behold therein
  • the Anatomy of every particle, and can thereby indigitate their
  • Diseases: And running into any demands, expect from us a sudden
  • resolution in things, whereon the Devil of _Delphos_ would demurr; and
  • we know hath taken respite of some dayes to answer easier questions.
  • [Sidenote: _Places in_ Venice _and_ Paris, _where Mountebanks play their
  • pranks._]
  • _Saltimbancoes_, _Quacksalvers_, and _Charlatans_, deceive them in lower
  • degrees. Were _Esop_ alive, the _Piazza_ and _Pont-Neuf_ could not but
  • speak their fallacies; mean while there are too many, whose cries cannot
  • conceal their mischief. For their Impostures are full of cruelty, and
  • worse than any other; deluding not only unto pecuniary defraudations,
  • but the irreparable deceit of death.
  • _Astrologers_, which pretend to be of _Cabala_ with the Starrs (such I
  • mean as abuse that worthy Enquiry) have not been wanting in their
  • deceptions; who having won their belief unto principles whereof they
  • make great doubt themselves, have made them believe that arbitrary
  • events below, have necessary causes, above; whereupon their credulities
  • assent unto any Prognosticks; and daily swallow the Predictions of men,
  • which, considering the independency of their causes, and contigency in
  • their Events, are only in the prescience of God.
  • Fortune-tellers, Juglers, Geomancers, and the like incantory Impostors,
  • though commonly men of Inferiour rank, and from whom without
  • Illumination they can expect no more than from themselves, do daily and
  • professedly delude them. Unto whom (what is deplorable in Men and
  • Christians) too many applying themselves, betwixt jest and earnest,
  • betray the cause of Truth, and sensibly make up the legionary body of
  • Error.
  • [Sidenote: _The people of_ Rome, _why never suffered to know the right
  • name of their City._]
  • _Statists_ and _Politicians_, unto whom _Ragione di Stato_, is the first
  • Considerable, as though it were their business to deceive the people, as
  • a Maxim, do hold, that truth is to be concealed from them; unto whom
  • although they reveal the visible design, yet do they commonly conceal
  • the capital intention. And therefore have they ever been the instruments
  • of great designes, yet seldom understood the true intention of any,
  • accomplishing the drifts of wiser heads, as inanimate and ignorant
  • Agents, the general design of the World; who though in some Latitude of
  • sense, and in a natural cognition perform their proper actions, yet do
  • they unknowingly concurr unto higher ends, and blindly advance the great
  • intention of Nature. Now how far they may be kept in ignorance a greater
  • example there is in the people of _Rome_; who never knew the true and
  • proper name of their own City. For, beside that common appellation
  • received by the Citizens, it had a proper and secret name concealed from
  • them: _Cujus alterum nomen discere secretis Ceremoniarum nefas habetur_,
  • saith _Plinie_; lest the name thereof being discovered unto their
  • enemies, their _Penates_ and Patronal God might be called forth by
  • charms and incantations. For according unto the tradition of
  • _Magitians_, the tutelary Spirits will not remove at common
  • appellations, but at the proper names of things whereunto they are
  • Protectors.
  • Thus having been deceived by themselves, and continually deluded by
  • others, they must needs be stuffed with Errors, and even over-run with
  • these inferiour falsities; whereunto whosoever shall resign their
  • reasons, either from the Root of deceit in themselves, or inability to
  • resist such trivial deceptions from others, although their condition and
  • fortunes may place them many Spheres above the multitude; yet are they
  • still within the line of Vulgarity, and Democratical enemies of truth.
  • CHAPTER IV
  • Of the nearer and more Immediate Causes of popular Errors, both in
  • the wiser and common sort, Misapprehension, Fallacy, or false
  • Deduction, Credulity, Supinity, Adherence unto Antiquity, Tradition
  • and Authority.
  • [Sidenote: _The belief of_ Centaures _whence occasioned._]
  • The first is a mistake, or a misconception of things, either in their
  • first apprehensions, or secondary relations. So _Eve_ mistook the
  • Commandment, either from the immediate injunction of God, or from the
  • secondary narration of her Husband. So might the Disciples mistake our
  • Saviour, in his answer unto _Peter_ concerning the death of _John_, as
  • is delivered, _John_ 21. Peter _seeing_ John, _said unto_ Jesus, _Lord,
  • and what shall this man do?_ Jesus _saith, If I will, that he tarry till
  • I come, what is that unto thee? Then went this saying abroad among the
  • brethren, that that Disciple should not die._ Thus began the conceit and
  • opinion of the _Centaures_: that is, in the mistake of the first
  • beholders, as is declared by _Servius_; when some young _Thessalians_ on
  • horseback were beheld afar off, while their horses watered, that is,
  • while their heads were depressed, they were conceived by the first
  • Spectators, to be but one animal; and answerable hereunto have their
  • pictures been drawn ever since.
  • [Sidenote: _Equivocation and Amphibologie, how they differ._]
  • [Sidenote: Pythagoras, _his Allegorical precepts moralized._]
  • And, as simple mistakes commonly beget fallacies, so men rest not in
  • false apprehensions, without absurd and inconsequent deductions; from
  • fallacious foundations, and misapprehended _mediums_, erecting
  • conclusions no way inferrible from their premises. Now the fallacies
  • whereby men deceive others, and are deceived themselves, the Ancients
  • have divided into Verbal and Real. Of the Verbal, and such as conclude
  • from mistakes of the Word, although there be no less than six, yet are
  • there but two thereof worthy our notation, and unto which the rest may
  • be referred; that is the fallacy of Equivocation and Amphibology which
  • conclude from the ambiguity of some one word, or the ambiguous Syntaxis
  • of many put together. From this fallacy arose that calamitous Error of
  • the Jews, misapprehending the Prophesies of their _Messias_, and
  • expounding them alwayes unto literal and temporal expectations. By this
  • way many Errors crept in and perverted the Doctrine of _Pythagoras_,
  • whilst men received his Precepts in a different sense from his
  • intention; converting Metaphors into proprieties, and receiving as
  • literal expressions, obscure and involved truths. Thus when he enjoyned
  • his Disciples, an abstinence from Beans, many conceived they were with
  • severity debarred the use of that pulse; which notwithstanding could not
  • be his meaning; for as _Aristoxenus_, who wrote his life averreth, he
  • delighted much in that kind of food himself. But herein, as _Plutarch_
  • observeth, he had no other intention than to dissuade men from
  • Magistracy, or undertaking the publick offices of state; for by beans
  • was the Magistrate elected in some parts of _Greece_; and, after his
  • daies, we read in _Thucydides_, of the Councel of the bean in _Athens_.
  • [SN: πᾶν δεῖλοι κυαμῶν ἄπο χεῖρας ἔχεσθε.] The same word
  • also in Greek doth signifie a Testicle, and hath been thought by some an
  • injunction only of Continency, as _Aul. Gellius_ hath expounded, and as
  • _Empedocles_ may also be interpreted: that is, _Testiculis miseri
  • dextras subducite_; and might be the original intention of _Pythagoras_;
  • as having a notable hint hereof in Beans, from the natural signature of
  • the venereal organs of both Sexes. Again, his injunction is, not to
  • harbour Swallows in our Houses: Whose advice notwithstanding we do not
  • contemn, who daily admit and cherish them: For herein a caution is only
  • implied, not to entertain ungrateful and thankless persons, which like
  • the Swallow are no way commodious unto us; but having made use of our
  • habitations, and served their own turns, forsake us. So he commands to
  • deface the Print of a Cauldron in the ashes, after it hath boiled. Which
  • strictly to observe were condemnable superstition: But hereby he
  • covertly adviseth us not to persevere in anger; but after our choler
  • hath boiled, to retain no impression thereof. In the like sense are to
  • be received, when he adviseth his Disciples to give the right hand but
  • to few, to put no viands in a Chamber-pot, not to pass over a Balance,
  • not to rake up fire with a Sword, or piss against the Sun. Which
  • ænigmatical deliveries comprehend useful verities, but being mistaken by
  • literal Expositors at the first, they have been mis-understood by most
  • since, and may be occasion of Error to Verbal capacities for ever.
  • This fallacy in the first delusion Satan put upon _Eve_, and his whole
  • tentation might be the same continued; so when he said, _Ye shall not
  • die_, that was, in his equivocation, ye shall not incurr a present
  • death, or a destruction immediately ensuing your transgression. _Your
  • eyes shall be opened_; that is, not to the enlargement of your
  • knowledge, but discovery of your shame and proper confusion; _You shall
  • know good and evil_; that is, you shall have knowledge of good by its
  • privation, but cognisance of evil by sense and visible experience. And
  • the same fallacy or way of deceit, so well succeeding in Paradise, he
  • continued in his Oracles through all the World. Which had not men more
  • warily understood, they might have performed many acts inconsistent with
  • his intention. _Brutus_ might have made haste with _Tarquine_ to have
  • kissed his own Mother. The _Athenians_ might have built them wooden
  • Walls, or doubled the Altar at _Delphos_.
  • The circle of this fallacy is very large; and herein may be comprised
  • all Ironical mistakes, for intended expressions receiving inverted
  • significations; all deductions from Metaphors, Parables, Allegories,
  • unto real and rigid interpretations. [SN: _De hæresibus._] Whereby have
  • risen not only popular Errors in Philosophy, but vulgar and senseless
  • Heresies in Divinity; as will be evident unto any that shall examine
  • their foundations, as they stand related by _Epiphanius_, _Austin_, or
  • _Prateolus_.
  • Other wayes there are of deceit; which consist not in false apprehension
  • of Words, that is, Verbal expressions or sentential significations, but
  • fraudulent deductions, or inconsequent illations, from a false
  • conception of things. Of these extradictionary and real fallacies,
  • _Aristotle_ and _Logicians_ make in number six, but we observe that men
  • are most commonly deceived by four thereof: those are, _Petitio
  • principii, A dicto secundum quid ad dictum simpliciter, A non causa pro
  • causa_; And, _fallacia consequentis_.
  • The first is, _Petitio principii_. Which fallacy is committed, when a
  • question is made a _medium_, or we assume a _medium_ as granted, whereof
  • we remain as unsatisfied as of the question. Briefly, where that is
  • assumed as a Principle to prove another thing, which is not conceded as
  • true it self. By this fallacy was _Eve_ deceived, when she took for
  • granted, a false assertion of the Devil; _Ye shall not surely die; for
  • God doth know that in the day ye shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be
  • opened, and you shall be as Gods_. Which was but a bare affirmation of
  • Satan, without proof or probable inducement, contrary unto the command
  • of God, and former belief of her self. And this was the Logick of the
  • _Jews_ when they accused our _Saviour_ unto _Pilate_; who demanding a
  • reasonable impeachment, or the allegation of some crime worthy of
  • Condemnation; they only replied, _If he had not been worthy of Death, we
  • would not have brought Him before thee_. Wherein there was neither
  • accusation of the person, nor satisfaction of the Judge; who well
  • understood, a bare accusation was not presumption of guilt, and the
  • clamours of the people no accusation at all. The same Fallacy is
  • sometime used in the dispute, between _Job_ and his friends; they often
  • taking that for granted which afterward he disproveth.
  • The second is, _A dicto secundum quid ad dictum simpliciter_, when from
  • that which is but true in a qualified sense, an inconditional and
  • absolute verity is inferred; transferring the special consideration of
  • things unto their general acceptions, or concluding from their strict
  • acception, unto that without all limitation. This fallacy men commit
  • when they argue from a particular to a general; as when we conclude the
  • vices or qualities of a few, upon a whole Nation. Or from a part unto
  • the whole. Thus the Devil argues with our Saviour: and by this, he would
  • perswade Him he might be secure, if he cast himself from the Pinnacle:
  • For, said he, it is written, _He shall give his Angels charge concerning
  • thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou
  • dash thy foot against a stone._ [SN: Psal. 91.] But this illation was
  • fallacious, leaving one part of the Text, _He shall keep thee in all thy
  • wayes_; that is, in the wayes of righteousness, and not of rash
  • attempts: so he urged a part for the whole, and inferred more in the
  • conclusion, than was contained in the premises. By the same fallacy we
  • proceed, when we conclude from the sign unto the thing signified. By
  • this incroachment, Idolatry first crept in, men converting the
  • symbolical use of Idols into their proper Worship, and receiving the
  • representation of things as the substance and thing it self. So the
  • Statue of _Belus_ at first erected in his memory, was in after-times
  • adored as a Divinity. [SN: _The Original of Idolatry._] And so also in
  • the Sacrament of the _Eucharist_, the Bread and Wine which were but the
  • signals or visible signs, were made the things signified, and worshipped
  • as the Body of Christ. And hereby generally men are deceived that take
  • things spoken in some Latitude without any at all. Hereby the _Jews_
  • were deceived concerning the commandment of the Sabbath, accusing our
  • Saviour _for healing the sick_, and his Disciples _for plucking the ears
  • of Corn upon that day_. And by this deplorable mistake they were
  • deceived unto destruction, upon the assault of _Pompey_ the great, made
  • upon that day; by whose superstitious observation they could not defend
  • themselves, or perform any labour whatever.
  • [Sidenote: _The_ Alcoran _endures neither Wine nor Universities._]
  • The third is, _A non causa pro causa_, when that is pretended for a
  • cause which is not, or not in that sense which is inferred. Upon this
  • consequence the law of _Mahomet_ forbids the use of Wine; and his
  • Successors abolished Universities. By this also many Christians have
  • condemned literature, misunderstanding the counsel of Saint _Paul_, who
  • adviseth no further than to beware of Philosophy. On this Foundation
  • were built the conclusions of Southsayers in their Augurial, and
  • Tripudiary divinations; collecting presages from voice or food of Birds,
  • and conjoyning Events unto causes of no connection. Hereupon also are
  • grounded the gross mistakes, in the cure of many diseases: not only from
  • the last medicine, and sympathetical Receipts, but Amulets, Charms, and
  • all incantatory applications; deriving effects not only from
  • inconcurring causes, but things devoid of all efficiency whatever.
  • The fourth is, the Fallacy of the Consequent; which if strictly taken,
  • may be a fallacious illation in reference unto antecedency, or
  • consequency; as to conclude from the position of the antecedent to the
  • position of the consequent, or from the remotion of the consequent to
  • the remotion of the antecedent. This is usually committed, when in
  • connexed Propositions the Terms adhere contingently. This is frequent in
  • Oratory illations; and thus the _Pharisees_, because He conversed with
  • Publicans and Sinners, accused the holiness of Christ. But if this
  • Fallacy be largely taken, it is committed in any vicious illation,
  • offending the rules of good consequence; and so it may be very large,
  • and comprehend all false illations against the settled Laws of Logick:
  • But the most usual inconsequencies are from particulars, from negatives,
  • and from affirmative conclusions in the second figure, wherein indeed
  • offences are most frequent, and their discoveries not difficult.
  • CHAPTER V
  • Of Credulity and Supinity.
  • A third cause of common Errors is the Credulity of men, that is, an
  • easie assent to what is obtruded, or a believing at first ear, what is
  • delivered by others. This is a weakness in the understanding, without
  • examination assenting unto things, which from their Natures and Causes
  • do carry no perswasion; whereby men often swallow falsities for truths,
  • dubiosities for certainties, feasibilities for possibilities, and things
  • impossible as possibilities themselves. Which, though the weakness of
  • the Intellect, and most discoverable in vulgar heads; yet hath it
  • sometime fallen upon wiser brains, and greater advancers of Truth. Thus
  • many wise _Athenians_ so far forgot their Philosophy, and the nature of
  • humane production, that they descended unto belief, that the original of
  • their Nation was from the Earth, and had no other beginning than the
  • seminality and womb of their great Mother. Thus is it not without
  • wonder, how those learned _Arabicks_ so tamely delivered up their belief
  • unto the absurdities of the _Alcoran_. How the noble _Geber_,
  • _Avicenna_, and _Almanzor_, should rest satisfied in the nature and
  • causes of Earthquakes, delivered from the doctrine of their _Prophet_;
  • that is, from the motion of a great Bull, upon whose horns all the earth
  • is poised. How their faiths could decline so low, as to concede their
  • generations in Heaven, to be made by the smell of a Citron, or that the
  • felicity of their Paradise should consist in a Jubile of copulation,
  • that is, a coition of one act prolonged unto fifty years. Thus is it
  • almost beyond wonder, how the belief of reasonable creatures, should
  • ever submit unto Idolatry: and the credulity of those men scarce
  • credible (without presumption of a second Fall) who could believe a
  • Deity in the work of their own hands. For although in that ancient and
  • diffused adoration of Idols, unto the _Priests_ and subtiler heads, the
  • worship perhaps might be symbolical, and as those Images some way
  • related unto their Deities; yet was the Idolatry direct and down-right
  • in the People; whose credulity is illimitable, who may be made believe
  • that any thing is God; and may be made believe there is no God at all.
  • [Sidenote: _Obstinate and irrational Scepticism, justly censured._]
  • And as Credulity is the cause of Error, so Incredulity oftentimes of not
  • enjoying truth; and that not only an obstinate incredulity, whereby we
  • will not acknowledge assent unto what is reasonably inferred, but any
  • Academical reservation in matters of easie truth, or rather sceptical
  • infidelity against the evidence of reason and sense. For these are
  • conceptions befalling wise men, as absurd as the apprehensions of fools,
  • and the credulity of the people which promiscuously swallow any thing.
  • For this is not only derogatory unto the wisdom of God, who hath
  • proposed the World unto our knowledge, and thereby the notion of
  • Himself; but also detractory unto the intellect, and sense of man
  • expressly disposed for that inquisition. And therefore, _hoc tantum
  • scio, quod nihil scio_, is not to be received in an absolute sense, but
  • is comparatively expressed unto the number of things whereof our
  • knowledge is ignorant. Nor will it acquit the insatisfaction of those
  • which quarrel with all things, or dispute of matters, concerning whose
  • verities we have conviction from reason, or decision from the inerrable
  • and requisite conditions of sense. And therefore if any affirm, the
  • earth doth move, and will not believe with us, it standeth still;
  • because he hath probable reasons for it, and I no infallible sense, nor
  • reason against it, I will not quarrel with his assertion. But if, like
  • _Zeno_, he shall walk about, and yet deny there is any motion in Nature,
  • surely that man was constituted for _Anticera_, and were a fit companion
  • for those, who having a conceit they are dead, cannot be convicted into
  • the society of the living.
  • The fourth is a Supinity, or neglect of Enquiry, even of matters whereof
  • we doubt; rather believing, than going to see; or doubting with ease and
  • _gratis_, than believing with difficulty or purchase. Whereby, either
  • from a temperamental inactivity, we are unready to put in execution the
  • suggestions or dictates of reason; or by a content and acquiescence in
  • every species of truth, we embrace the shadow thereof, or so much as may
  • palliate its just and substantial acquirements. Had our fore-Fathers sat
  • down in these resolutions, or had their curiosities been sedentary, who
  • pursued the knowledge of things through all the corners of nature, the
  • face of truth had been obscure unto us, whose lustre in some part their
  • industries have revealed.
  • Certainly the sweat of their labours was not salt unto them, and they
  • took delight in the dust of their endeavours. For questionless, in
  • Knowledge there is no slender difficulty; and Truth, which wise men say
  • doth lye in a Well, is not recoverable by exantlation. It were some
  • extenuation of the Curse, if _in sudore vultus tui_ were confinable unto
  • corporal exercitations, and there still remained a Paradise, or unthorny
  • place of knowledge. But now our understandings being eclipsed, as well
  • as our tempers infirmed, we must betake our selves to wayes of
  • reparation, and depend upon the illumination of our endeavours. For,
  • thus we may in some measure repair our primary ruines, and build our
  • selves Men again. And though the attempts of some have been precipitous,
  • and their Enquiries so audacious, as to come within command of the
  • flaming swords, and lost themselves in attempts above humanity; yet have
  • the Enquiries of most defected by the way, and tired within the sober
  • circumference of Knowledge.
  • And this is the reason, why some have transcribed any thing; and
  • although they cannot but doubt thereof, yet neither make Experiment by
  • sense, or Enquiry by reason; but live in doubts of things, whose
  • satisfaction is in their own power; which is indeed the inexcusable part
  • of our ignorance, and may perhaps fill up the charge of the last day.
  • For, not obeying the dictates of Reason, and neglecting the cries of
  • Truth, we fail not only in the trust of our undertakings, but in the
  • intention of man it self. Which although more venial in ordinary
  • constitutions, and such as are not framed beyond the capacity of beaten
  • notions, yet will inexcusably condemn some men, who having received
  • excellent endowments, have yet sate down by the way, and frustrated the
  • intention of their liabilities. For certainly, as some men have sinned
  • in the principles of humanity, and must answer, for not being men, so
  • others offend, if they be not more. _Magis extra vitia, quam cum
  • virtutibus_, would commend those: These are not excusable without an
  • Excellency. For, great constitutions, and such as are constellated unto
  • knowledge, do nothing till they out-do all; they come short of
  • themselves, if they go not beyond others; and must not sit down under
  • the degree of Worthies. God expects no lustre from the minor Stars; but
  • if the Sun should not illuminate all, it were a sin in Nature. _Ultimus
  • bonoram_, will not excuse every man, nor is it sufficient for all to
  • hold the common level: Mens names should not only distinguish them: A
  • man should be something, that men are not, and individual in somewhat
  • beside his proper Name. Thus while it exceeds not the bounds of reason
  • and modesty, we cannot condemn singularity, _Nos numerus sumus_, is the
  • Motto of the multitude, and for that reason are they Fools. For things
  • as they recede from unity, the more they approach to imperfection, and
  • Deformity; for they hold their perfection in their Simplicities, and as
  • they nearest approach unto God.
  • [Sidenote: _Universities why many times full of Scholars, and empty of
  • Learning._]
  • [Sidenote: _The natural genius or inclination, have much to be regarded
  • in the choice of a Profession._]
  • Now as there are many great Wits to be condemned, who have neglected the
  • increment of Arts, and the sedulous pursuit of knowledge; so are there
  • not a few very much to be pitied, whose industry being not attended with
  • natural parts, they have sweat to little purpose, and rolled the stone
  • in vain. Which chiefly proceedeth from natural incapacity, and genial
  • indisposition, at least, to those particulars whereunto they apply their
  • endeavours. And this is one reason why, though Universities be full of
  • men, they are oftentimes empty of learning: Why, as there are some men
  • do much without learning, so others but little with it, and few that
  • attain to any measure of it. For many heads that undertake it, were
  • never squared, nor timber'd for it. There are not only particular men,
  • but whole Nations indisposed for learning; whereunto is required, not
  • only education, but a pregnant _Minerva_, and teeming Constitution. For
  • the Wisdom of God hath divided the _Genius_ of men according to the
  • different affairs of the World: and varied their inclination according
  • to the variety of Actions to be performed therein. Which they who
  • consider not, rudely rushing upon professions and ways of life, unequal
  • to their natures; dishonour, not only themselves and their Functions,
  • but pervert the harmony of the whole World. For, if the World went on as
  • God hath ordained it, and were every one imployed in points concordant
  • to their Natures, Professions; Arts and Commonwealths would rise up of
  • themselves; nor needed we a Lanthorn to find a man in _Athens_.
  • CHAPTER VI
  • Of adherence unto Antiquity.
  • [Sidenote: _Immoderate respect unto Antiquity, a general cause of
  • Error._]
  • But the mortallest enemy unto Knowledge, and that which hath done the
  • greatest execution upon truth, hath been a peremptory adhesion unto
  • Authority, and more especially, the establishing of our belief upon the
  • dictates of Antiquity. For (as every capacity may observe) most men of
  • Ages present, so superstitiously do look on Ages past, that the
  • Authorities of the one, exceed the reasons of the other: Whose persons
  • indeed being far removed from our times, their works, which seldom with
  • us pass uncontrouled, either by contemporaries, or immediate successors,
  • are now become out of the distance of Envies: and the farther removed
  • from present times, are conceived to approach the nearer unto truth it
  • self. Now hereby methinks we manifestly delude our selves, and widely
  • walk out of the track of Truth.
  • For first, Men hereby impose a Thraldom on their Times, which the
  • ingenuity of no Age should endure, or indeed, the presumption of any did
  • ever yet enjoyn. Thus _Hippocrates_ about 2000 years ago, conceived it
  • no injustice, either to examine or refute the Doctrines of his
  • Predecessors: _Galen_ the like, and _Aristotle_ the most of any. Yet did
  • not any of these conceive themselves infallible, or set down their
  • dictates as verities irrefragable, but when they deliver their own
  • Inventions, or reject other mens Opinions, they proceed with Judgment
  • and Ingenuity; establishing their assertion, not only with great
  • solidity, but submitting them also unto the correction of future
  • discovery.
  • Secondly, Men that adore times past, consider not that those times were
  • once present; that is, as our own are at this instant, and we our selves
  • unto those to come, as they unto us at present, as we relye on them,
  • even so will those on us, and magnifie us hereafter, who at present
  • condemn our selves. Which very absurdity is daily committed amongst us,
  • even in the esteem and censure of our own times. And to speak
  • impartially, old Men, from whom we should expect the greatest example of
  • Wisdom, do most exceed in this point of folly; commending the days of
  • their youth, which they scarce remember, at least well understood not;
  • extolling those times their younger years have heard their Fathers
  • condemn, and condemning those times the gray heads of their posterity
  • shall commend. And thus is it the humour of many heads, to extol the
  • days of their Fore-fathers, and declaim against the wickedness of times
  • present. Which notwithstanding they cannot handsomly do, without the
  • borrowed help and Satyrs of times past; condemning the vices of their
  • own times, by the expressions of vices in times which they commend;
  • which cannot but argue the community of vice in both. _Horace_
  • therefore, _Juvenal_, and _Persius_ were no Prophets, although their
  • lines did seem to indigitate and point at our times. There is a certain
  • list of vices committed in all Ages, and declaimed against by all
  • Authors, which will last as long as humane nature; which digested into
  • common places, may serve for any Theme, and never be out of date until
  • Dooms-day.
  • Thirdly, The Testimonies of Antiquity and such as pass oraculously
  • amongst us, were not, if we consider them, always so exact, as to
  • examine the doctrine they delivered. For some, and those the acutest of
  • them, have left unto us many things of falsity; controlable, not only by
  • critical and collective reason, but common and Country observation.
  • Hereof there want not many examples in _Aristotle_, through all his Book
  • of Animals; we shall instance onely in three of his Problems, and all
  • contained under one Section. The first enquireth, why a Man doth cough,
  • but not an Oxe or Cow; whereas, notwithstanding the contrary is often
  • observed by Husbandmen, and stands confirmed by those who have expressly
  • treated _De Re Rustica_, and have also delivered divers remedies for it.
  • Why Juments, as Horses, Oxen, and Asses, have no eructation or belching,
  • whereas indeed the contrary is often observed, and also delivered by
  • _Columella_. And thirdly, Why Man alone hath gray hairs? whereas it
  • cannot escape the eyes, and ordinary observation of all men, as Horses,
  • Dogs, and Foxes, wax gray with age in our Countries; and in the colder
  • Regions, many other Animals without it. And though favourable
  • constructions may somewhat extenuate the rigour of these concessions,
  • yet will scarce any palliate that in the fourth of his Meteors, that
  • Salt is easiest dissolvable in cold water: Nor that of _Diascorides_,
  • that Quicksilver is best preserved in Vessels of Tin and Lead.
  • Other Authors write often dubiously even in matters wherein is expected
  • a strict and definite truth; extenuating their affirmations, with
  • _aiunt_, _ferunt_, _fortasse_: as _Diascorides_, _Galen_, _Aristotle_,
  • and many more. Others by hear-say; taking upon trust most they have
  • delivered, whose Volumes are nicer Collections, drawn from the mouths or
  • leaves of other Authors; as may be observed in _Plinie_, _Elian_,
  • _Athenæus_, and many more. Not a few transcriptively, subscribing their
  • Names unto other mens endeavours, and meerly transcribing almost all
  • they have written. The _Latines_ transcribing the _Greeks_, the _Greeks_
  • and _Latines_, each other.
  • [Sidenote: _The Antiquity, and some notable instances of Plagiarism,
  • that is, of transcribing or filching Authors._]
  • Thus hath _Justine_ borrowed all from _Trogus Pompeius_, and _Julius
  • Solinus_, in a manner transcribed _Plinie_. Thus have _Lucian_ and
  • _Apuleius_ served _Lucius Pratensis_: men both living in the same time,
  • and both transcribing the same Author, in those famous Books, entituled
  • _Lucius_ by the one, and _Aureus Asinus_ by the other. In the same
  • measure hath _Simocrates_ in his Tract De Nilo, dealt with _Diodorus
  • Siculus_, as may be observed in that work annexed unto _Herodotus_, and
  • translated by _Jungermannus_. Thus _Eratosthenes_ wholly translated
  • _Timotheus de Insulis_, not reserving the very Preface. The same doth
  • _Strabo_ report of _Eudorus_, and _Ariston_, in a Treatise entituled _De
  • Nilo_. _Clemens Alexandrinus_ hath observed many examples hereof among
  • the _Greeks_; and _Pliny_ speaketh very plainly in his Preface, that
  • conferring his Authors, and comparing their works together, he generally
  • found those that went before _verbatim_ transcribed, by those that
  • followed after, and their Originals never so much as mentioned. To omit
  • how much the wittiest piece of _Ovid_ [SN: _His_ Metamorphosis.] is
  • beholden unto _Parthenius Chius_; even the magnified _Virgil_ hath
  • borrowed, almost in all his Works; his _Eclogues_ from _Theocritus_, his
  • _Georgicks_ from _Hesiod_ and _Aratus_, his _Æneads_ from _Homer_, the
  • second Book whereof containing the exploit of _Sinon_ and the _Trojan_
  • Horse (as _Macrobius_ observeth) he hath _verbatim_ derived from
  • _Pisander_. Our own Profession is not excusable herein. Thus
  • _Oribasius_, Ætius, and _Ægineta_, have in a manner transcribed _Galen_.
  • But _Marcellus Empericus_, who hath left a famous Work _De
  • Medicamentis_, hath word for word transcribed all _Scribonius Largus_,
  • _De Compositione Medicamentorum_, and not left out his very Peroration.
  • Thus may we perceive the Ancients were but men, even like our selves.
  • The practice of transcription in our days, was no Monster in theirs:
  • _Plagiarie_ had not its Nativity with Printing, but began in times when
  • thefts were difficult, and the paucity of Books scarce wanted that
  • Invention.
  • Nor did they only make large use of other Authors, but often without
  • mention of their names. _Aristotle_, who seems to have borrowed many
  • things from _Hippocrates_, in the most favourable construction, makes
  • mention but once of him, and that by the by, and without reference unto
  • his present Doctrine. [SN: _In his_ Politicks.] _Virgil_, so much
  • beholding unto _Homer_, hath not his name in all his Works: and
  • _Plinie_, who seems to borrow many Authors out of _Dioscorides_, hath
  • taken no notice of him. I wish men were not still content to plume
  • themselves with others Feathers. Fear of discovery, not single ingenuity
  • affords Quotations rather than Transcriptions; wherein notwithstanding
  • the Plagiarisme of many makes little consideration, whereof though great
  • Authors may complain, small ones cannot but take notice.
  • [Sidenote: _An ancient Author who writ_ Περὶ ἀπίστων, sive de
  • incredibilibus, _whereof some part is yet extant_.]
  • [Sidenote: _The Fable of_ Orpheus _his Harp, etc. whence occasioned._]
  • Fourthly, While we so eagerly adhere unto Antiquity, and the accounts of
  • elder times, we are to consider the fabulous condition thereof. And that
  • we shall not deny, if we call to mind the Mendacity of _Greece_, from
  • whom we have received most relations, and that a considerable part of
  • ancient Times, was by the _Greeks_ themselves termed μυθικόν, that is,
  • made up or stuffed out with Fables. And surely the fabulous inclination
  • of those days, was greater then any since; which swarmed so with Fables,
  • and from such slender grounds, took hints for fictions, poysoning the
  • World ever after; wherein how far they exceeded, may be exemplified from
  • _Palephatus_, in his Book of _Fabulous Narrations_. That Fable of
  • _Orpheus_ who by the melody of his Musick, made Woods and Trees to
  • follow him, was raised upon a slender foundation; for there were a crew
  • of mad women, retired unto a Mountain from whence being pacified by his
  • Musick, they descended with boughs in their hands, which unto the
  • fabulosity of those times proved a sufficient ground to celebrate unto
  • all posterity the Magick of _Orpheus_ Harp, and its power to attract the
  • senseless Trees about it. That _Medea_ the famous Sorceress could renew
  • youth, and make old men young again, was nothing else, but that from the
  • knowledge of Simples she had a Receit to make white hair black, and
  • reduce old heads, into the tincture of youth again. The Fable of
  • _Gerion_ and _Cerberus_ with three heads, was this: _Gerion_ was of the
  • City _Tricarinia_, that is, of three heads, and _Cerberus_ of the same
  • place was one of his Dogs, which running into a Cave upon pursuit of his
  • Masters Oxen, _Hercules_ perforce drew him out of that place, from
  • whence the conceits of those days affirmed no less, then that _Hercules_
  • descended into Hell, and brought up _Cerberus_ into the habitation of
  • the living. Upon the like grounds was raised the figment of _Briareus_,
  • who dwelling in a City called _Hecatonchiria_, the fansies of those
  • times assigned him an hundred hands. 'Twas ground enough to fansie wings
  • unto _Dædalus_, in that he stole out of a Window from _Minos_, and
  • sailed away with his son _Icarus_: who steering his course wisely,
  • escaped; but his son carrying too high a sail was drowned. That _Niobe_
  • weeping over her children, was turned into a Stone, was nothing else,
  • but that during her life she erected over their Sepultures a Marble Tomb
  • of her own. When _Acteon_ had undone himself with Dogs, and the prodigal
  • attendants of hunting, they made a solemn story how he was devoured by
  • his Hounds. And upon the like grounds was raised the Anthropophagie of
  • _Diomedes_ his horses. [SN: Eating of Mans flesh.] Upon as slender
  • foundation was built the Fable of the _Minotaure_; for one _Taurus_ a
  • servant of _Minos_ gat his Mistris _Pasiphae_ with child, from whence
  • the Infant was named _Minotaurus_. Now this unto the fabulosity of those
  • times was thought sufficient to accuse _Pasiphae_ of Beastiality, or
  • admitting conjunction with a Bull; and in succeeding ages gave a hint of
  • depravity unto _Domitian_ to act the Fable into reality. In like manner,
  • as _Diodorus_ plainly delivereth, the famous Fable of _Charon_ had its
  • Nativity; who being no other but the common Ferry-man of _Egypt_, that
  • wafted over the dead bodies from _Memphis_, was made by the _Greeks_ to
  • be the Ferry-man of Hell, and solemn stories raised after of him.
  • Lastly, we shall not need to enlarge, if that be true which grounded the
  • generation of _Castor_ and _Helen_ out of an Egg, because they were born
  • and brought up in an upper room, according unto the Word ὦον, which with
  • the _Lacœdemonians_ had also that signification.
  • Fifthly, We applaud many things delivered by the Ancients, which are in
  • themselves but ordinary, and come short of our own Conceptions. Thus we
  • usually extol, and our Orations cannot escape the sayings of the wise
  • men of _Greece_. _Nosce teipsum_, of _Thales_: _Nosce tempus_, of
  • _Pittacus_: _Nihil nimis_, of _Cleobulus_; which notwithstanding to
  • speak indifferently, are but vulgar precepts in Morality, carrying with
  • them nothing above the line, or beyond the extemporary sententiosity of
  • common conceits with us. Thus we magnifie the Apothegms or reputed
  • replies of Wisdom, whereof many are to be seen in _Laertius_, more in
  • _Lycosthenes_, not a few in the second Book of _Macrobius_, in the salts
  • of _Cicero_, _Augustus_, and the Comical wits of those times: in most
  • whereof there is not much to admire, and are methinks exceeded, not only
  • in the replies of wise men, but the passages of society, and urbanities
  • of our times. And thus we extol their Adages, or Proverbs; and _Erasmus_
  • hath taken great pains to make collections of them, whereof
  • notwithstanding, the greater part will, I believe, unto indifferent
  • Judges be esteemd no extraordinaries: and may be parallel'd, if not
  • exceeded, by those of more unlearned Nations, and many of our own.
  • [Sidenote: _A pedantical vanity to quote Authors in matters of common
  • sense or of familiar acknowledgement._]
  • Sixthly, We urge Authorities in points that need not, and introduce the
  • testimony of ancient Writers, to confirm things evidently believed, and
  • whereto no reasonable hearer but would assent without them; such as are,
  • _Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit. Virtute nil præastantius, nil
  • pulchrius. Omnia vincit amor. Prœclarum quiddam veritas_. All which,
  • although things known and vulgar, are frequently urged by many men, and
  • though trivial verities in our mouths, yet, noted from _Plato_, _Ovid_,
  • or _Cicero_, they become reputed elegancies. For many hundred to
  • instance but in one we meet with while we are writing. _Antonius
  • Guevara_ that elegant _Spaniard_, in his Book entituled, _The Dial of
  • Princes_, beginneth his Epistle thus. _Apolonius Thyancus_, disputing
  • with the Scholars of _Hiarchas_, said, that among all the affections of
  • nature, nothing was more natural, then the desire all have to preserve
  • life. Which being a confessed Truth, and a verity acknowledged by all,
  • it was a superfluous affectation to derive its Authority from
  • _Apolonius_, or seek a confirmation thereof as far as _India_, and the
  • learned Scholars of _Hiarchas_. Which whether it be not all one to
  • strengthen common Dignities and Principles known by themselves, with the
  • Authority of Mathematicians; or think a man should believe, the whole is
  • greater then its parts, rather upon the Authority of _Euclide_, then if
  • it were propounded alone; I leave unto the second and wiser cogitations
  • of all men. 'Tis sure a Practice that savours much of Pedantry; a
  • reserve of Puerility we have not shaken off from School; where being
  • seasoned with Minor sentences, by a neglect of higher Enquiries, they
  • prescribe upon our riper ears, and are never worn out but with our
  • Memories.
  • [Sidenote: _Some remarkable mistakes among the Ancients._]
  • Lastly, While we so devoutly adhere unto Antiquity in some things, we do
  • not consider we have deserted them in several others. For they indeed
  • have not onely been imperfect, in the conceit of some things, but either
  • ignorant or erroneous in many more. They understood not the motion of
  • the eighth sphear from West to East, and so conceived the longitude of
  • the Stars invariable. They conceived the torrid Zone unhabitable, and so
  • made frustrate the goodliest part of the Earth. But we now know 'tis
  • very well empeopled, and the habitation thereof esteemed so happy, that
  • some have made it the proper seat of Paradise; and been so far from
  • judging it unhabitable, that they have made it the first habitation of
  • all. Many of the Ancients denied the _Antipodes_, and some unto the
  • penalty of contrary affirmations; but the experience of our enlarged
  • navigations, can now assert them beyond all dubitation. Having thus
  • totally relinquisht them in some things, it may not be presumptuous, to
  • examine them in others; but surely most unreasonable to adhere to them
  • in all, as though they were infallible, or could not err in any way.
  • CHAPTER VII
  • Of Authority.
  • Nor is onely a resolved prostration unto Antiquity a powerful enemy unto
  • knowledge, but any confident adherence unto Authority, or resignation of
  • our judgements upon the testimony of Age or Author whatsoever.
  • [Sidenote: _Authority (simply) but a mean argument especially._]
  • For first, to speak generally an argument from Authority to wiser
  • examinations, is but a weaker kind of proof; it being but a topical
  • probation, and as we term it, an inartificial argument, depending upon a
  • naked asseveration: wherein neither declaring the causes, affections or
  • adjuncts of what we believe, it carrieth not with it the reasonable
  • inducements of knowledge. And therefore, _Contra negantem principia,
  • Ipse dixit_, or _Oportet discentem credere_, although Postulates very
  • accommodable unto _Junior_ indoctrinations; yet are their Authorities
  • but temporary, and not to be imbraced beyond the minority of our
  • intellectuals. For our advanced beliefs are not to be built upon
  • dictates, but having received the probable inducements of truth, we
  • become emancipated from testimonial engagements, and are to erect upon
  • the surer base of reason.
  • Secondly, Unto reasonable perpensions it hath no place in some Sciences,
  • small in others, and suffereth many restrictions, even where it is most
  • admitted. [SN: _In the Mathematicks._] It is of no validity in the
  • Mathematicks, especially the mother part thereof, Arithmetick and
  • Geometry. For these Sciences concluding from dignities and principles
  • known by themselves: receive not satisfaction from probable reasons,
  • much less from bare and peremptory asseverations. And therefore if all
  • _Athens_ should decree, that in every Triangle, two sides, which soever
  • be taken, are greater then the side remaining, or that in rectangle
  • triangles the square which is made of the side that subtendeth the right
  • angle, is equal to the squares which are made of the sides containing
  • the right angle: although there be a certain truth therein,
  • Geometricians notwithstanding would not receive satisfaction without
  • demonstration thereof. 'Tis true, by the vulgarity of Philosophers,
  • there are many points believed without probation; nor if a man affirm
  • from _Ptolomy_, that the Sun is bigger then the Earth, shall he probably
  • meet with any contradiction: whereunto notwithstanding Astronomers will
  • not assent without some convincing argument or demonstrative proof
  • thereof. And therefore certainly of all men a Philosopher should be no
  • swearer; for an oath which is the end of controversies in Law, cannot
  • determine any here; nor are the deepest Sacraments or desperate
  • imprecations of any force to perswade, where reason only, and necessary
  • _mediums_ must induce.
  • [Sidenote: _And Physick._]
  • In Natural Philosophy more generally pursued amongst us, it carrieth but
  • slender consideration; for that also proceeding from setled Principles,
  • therein is expected a satisfaction from scientifical progressions, and
  • such as beget a sure rational belief. For if Authority might have made
  • out the assertions of Philosophy, we might have held that Snow was
  • black, that the Sea was but the sweat of the Earth, and many of the like
  • absurdities. Then was _Aristotle_ injurious to fall upon _Melissus_, to
  • reject the assertions of _Anaxagoras_, _Anaximander_, and _Empedocles_;
  • then were we also ungrateful unto himself; from whom our _Junior_
  • endeavours embracing many things on his authority, our mature and
  • secondary enquiries, are forced to quit those receptions, and to adhere
  • unto the nearer account of Reason. And although it be not unusual, even
  • in Philosophical Tractates to make enumeration of Authors, yet are there
  • reasons usually introduced, and to ingenious Readers do carry the stroke
  • in the perswasion. And surely if we account it reasonable among our
  • selves, and not injurious unto rational Authors, no farther to abet
  • their Opinions then as they are supported by solid Reasons: certainly
  • with more excusable reservation may we shrink at their bare testimonies;
  • whose argument is but precarious, and subsists upon the charity of our
  • assentments.
  • In Morality, Rhetorick, Law and History, there is I confess a frequent
  • and allowable use of testimony; and yet herein I perceive, it is not
  • unlimitable, but admitteth many restrictions. Thus in Law both Civil and
  • Divine: that is onely esteemed a legal testimony, which receives
  • comprobation from the mouths of at least two witnesses; and that not
  • only for prevention of calumny, but assurance against mistake; whereas
  • notwithstanding the solid reason of one man, is as sufficient as the
  • clamor of a whole Nation; and with imprejudicate apprehensions begets as
  • firm a belief as the authority or aggregated testimony of many hundreds.
  • For reason being the very root of our natures, and the principles
  • thereof common unto all, what is against the Laws of true reason, or the
  • unerring understanding of any one, if rightly apprehended; must be
  • disclaimed by all Nations, and rejected even by mankind.
  • Again, A testimony is of small validity if deduced from men out of their
  • own profession; so if _Lactantius_ affirm the Figure of the Earth is
  • plain, or _Austin_ deny there are _Antipodes_; though venerable Fathers
  • of the Church, and ever to be honoured, yet will not their Authorities
  • prove sufficient to ground a belief thereon. Whereas notwithstanding the
  • solid reason or confirmed experience of any man, is very approvable in
  • what profession soever. So _Raymund Sebund_ a Physitian of _Tholouze_,
  • besides his learned Dialogues _De Natura Humana_, hath written a natural
  • Theologie; demonstrating therein the Attributes of God, and attempting
  • the like in most points of Religion. So _Hugo Grotius_ a Civilian, did
  • write an excellent Tract of the verity of Christian Religion. Wherein
  • most rationally delivering themselves, their works will be embraced by
  • most that understand them, and their reasons enforce belief even from
  • prejudicate Readers. Neither indeed have the Authorities of men been
  • ever so awful; but that by some they have been rejected, even in their
  • own professions. Thus _Aristotle_ affirming the birth of the Infant or
  • time of its gestation, extendeth sometimes unto the eleventh Month, but
  • _Hippocrates_, averring that it exceedeth not the tenth: _Adrian_ the
  • Emperour in a solemn process, determined for _Aristotle_; but
  • _Justinian_ many years after, took in with _Hippocrates_ and reversed
  • the Decree of the other. Thus have Councils, not only condemned private
  • men, but the Decrees and Acts of one another. So _Galen_ after all his
  • veneration of _Hippocrates_, in some things hath fallen from him.
  • _Avicen_ in many from _Galen_; and others succeeding from him. And
  • although the singularity of _Paracelsus_ be intolerable, who sparing
  • onely _Hippocrates_, hath reviled not onely the Authors, but almost all
  • the learning that went before him; yet is it not much less injurious
  • unto knowledge obstinately and inconvincibly to side with any one. Which
  • humour unhappily possessing many, they have by prejudice withdrawn
  • themselves into parties, and contemning the soveraignty of truth,
  • seditiously abetted the private divisions of error.
  • Moreover a testimony in points Historical, and where it is of
  • unavoidable use, is of no illation in the negative, nor is it of
  • consequence that _Herodotus_ writing nothing of _Rome_, there was
  • therefore no such City in his time; or because _Dioscorides_ hath made
  • no mention of Unicorns horn, there is therefore no such thing in Nature.
  • Indeed, intending an accurate enumeration of Medical materials, the
  • omission hereof affords some probability, it was not used by the
  • Ancients, but will not conclude the non-existence thereof. For so may we
  • annihilate many Simples unknown to his enquiries, as _Senna_, _Rhubarb_,
  • _Bezoar_, _Ambregris_, and divers others. Whereas indeed the reason of
  • man hath not such restraint; concluding not onely affirmatively but
  • negatively; not onely affirming there is no magnitude beyond the last
  • heavens, but also denying there is any vacuity within them. Although it
  • be confessed, the affirmative hath the prerogative illation, and
  • _Barbara_ engrosseth the powerful demonstration.
  • Lastly, The strange relations made by Authors, may sufficiently
  • discourage our adherence unto Authority; and which if we believe we must
  • be apt to swallow any thing. Thus _Basil_ will tell us, the Serpent went
  • erect like Man, and that that Beast could speak before the Fall.
  • _Tostatus_ would make us believe that _Nilus_ encreaseth every new Moon.
  • _Leonardo Fioravanti_ an Italian Physitian, beside many other secrets,
  • assumeth unto himself the discovery of one concerning Pellitory of the
  • Wall; that is, that it never groweth in the sight of the _North_ star.
  • _Doue si possa vedere la stella Tramontana_, wherein how wide he is from
  • truth, is easily discoverable unto every one, who hath but Astronomy
  • enough to know that Star. _Franciscus Sanctius_ in a laudable Comment
  • upon _Alciats_ Emblems, affirmeth, and that from experience, a
  • Nightingale hath no tongue. _Avem Philomelam lingua carere pro certo
  • affirmare possum, nisi me oculi fallunt._ Which if any man for a while
  • shall believe upon his experience, he may at his leisure refute it by
  • his own. What fool almost would believe, at least, what wise man would
  • relie upon that Antidote delivered by _Pierius_ in his Hieroglyphicks
  • against the sting of a Scorpion? that is, to sit upon an Ass with ones
  • face toward his tail; for so the pain leaveth the Man, and passeth into
  • the Beast. It were methinks but an uncomfortable receit for a Quartane
  • Ague (and yet as good perhaps as many others used) to have recourse
  • unto the _Recipe_ of _Sammonicus_; that is, to lay the fourth Book of
  • _Homers_ Iliads under ones head, according to the precept of that
  • Physitian and Poet, _Mæoniæ Iliados quartum suppone trementi_. [SN: _An
  • eye medicine._] There are surely few that have belief to swallow, or
  • hope enough to experiment the Collyrium of _Albertus_; which promiseth a
  • strange effect, and such as Thieves would count inestimable, that is, to
  • make one see in the dark: yet thus much, according unto his receit, will
  • the right eye of an Hedge-hog boiled in oyl, and preserved in a brazen
  • vessel effect. As strange it is, and unto vicious inclinations were
  • worth a nights lodging with _Lais_, what is delivered in _Kiranides_;
  • that the left stone of a Weesel, wrapt up in the skin of a she Mule, is
  • able to secure incontinency from conception. [SN: _Ten thousand
  • drachms._]
  • These with swarms of others have men delivered in their Writings, whose
  • verities are onely supported by their authorities: But being neither
  • consonant unto reason, nor correspondent unto experiment, their
  • affirmations are unto us no axioms: We esteem thereof as things unsaid,
  • and account them but in the list of nothing. I wish herein the
  • _Chymists_ had been more sparing: who over-magnifying their
  • preparations, inveigle the curiosity of many, and delude the security of
  • most. For if experiments would answer their encomiums, the Stone and
  • Quartane Agues were not opprobrious unto Physitians: we might contemn
  • that first and most uncomfortable Aphorism of _Hippocrates_, [SN: _Ars
  • longa vita brevis._] for surely that Art were soon attained, that hath
  • so general remedies; and life could not be short, were there such to
  • prolong it.
  • CHAPTER VIII
  • A brief enumeration of Authors.
  • Now for as much as we have discoursed of Authority, and there is scarce
  • any tradition or popular error but stands also delivered by some good
  • Author; we shall endeavour a short discovery of such, as for the major
  • part have given authority hereto: who though excellent and useful
  • Authors, yet being either transcriptive, or following common relations,
  • their accounts are not to be swallowed at large, or entertained without
  • all circumspection. In whom the _ipse dixit_, although it be no powerful
  • argument in any, is yet less authentick then in many other, because they
  • deliver not their own experiences, but others affirmations, and write
  • from others, as later pens from them.
  • [Sidenote: _The Authors judgement, or a character given of some eminent
  • Authors._]
  • 1. The first in order, as also in time shall be _Herodotus_ of
  • _Halicarnassus_, an excellent and very elegant Historian; whose Books of
  • History were so well received in his own days, and at their rehearsal in
  • the Olympick games, they obtained the names of the nine Muses; and
  • continued in such esteem unto descending Ages, that _Cicero_ termed him,
  • _Historiarum parens_. And _Dionysius_ his Countryman, in an Epistle to
  • _Pompey_, after an express comparison, affords him the better of
  • _Thucydides_; all which notwithstanding, he hath received from some, the
  • stile of _Mendaciorum pater_. His Authority was much infringed by
  • _Plutarch_, who being offended with him, as _Polybius_ had been with
  • _Philarcus_ for speaking too coldly of his Countrymen, hath left a
  • particular Tract, _De malignitate Herodoti_. But in this latter
  • Century, _Camerarius_ and _Stephanus_ have stepped in, and by their
  • witty Apologies, effectually endeavoured to frustrate the Arguments of
  • _Plutarch_, or any other. Now in this Author, as may be observed in our
  • ensuing discourse, and is better discernable in the perusal of himself,
  • there are many things fabulously delivered, and not to be accepted as
  • truths: whereby nevertheless if any man be deceived, the Author is not
  • so culpable as the Believer. For he indeed imitating the Father Poet,
  • whose life he hath also written, and as _Thucydides_ observeth, as well
  • intending the delight as benefit of his Reader, hath besprinkled his
  • work with many fabulosities; whereby if any man be led into error, he
  • mistaketh the intention of the Author, who plainly confesseth he writeth
  • many things by hear-say, and forgetteth a very considerable caution of
  • his; that is, _Ego quæ fando cognovi, exponere narratione mea debeo
  • omnia: credere autem esse vera omnia, non debeo_.
  • 2. In the second place is _Ctesias_: the Cnidian, Physitian unto
  • _Artaxerxes_ King of _Persia_, his Books are often recited by ancient
  • Writers, and by the industry of _Stephanus_ and _Rhodomanus_, there are
  • extant some fragments thereof in our days; he wrote the History of
  • _Persia_, and many narrations of _India_. In the first, as having a fair
  • opportunity to know the truth, and as _Diodorus_ affirmeth the perusal
  • of _Persian_ Records, his testimony is acceptable. In his _Indian_
  • Relations, wherein are contained strange and incredible accounts, he is
  • surely to be read with suspension. These were they which weakned his
  • authority with former ages; for as we may observe, he is seldom
  • mentioned, without a derogatory Parenthesis in any Author. _Aristotle_
  • besides the frequent undervaluing of his authority, in his Books of
  • Animals gives him the lie no less then twice, concerning the seed of
  • Elephants. _Strabo_ in his eleventh Book hath left a harder censure of
  • him. _Equidem facilius Hesiodo & Homero, aliquis fidem adhibuerit,
  • itémque Tragicis Poetis, quam Ctesiæ, Herodoto, Hellanico & eorum
  • similibus._ But _Lucian_ hath spoken more plainer then any. _Scripsit
  • Ctesias de Indorum regione, deque iis quæ apud illos sunt, ea quæ nec
  • ipse vidit, neque ex ullius sermone audivit._ Yet were his relations
  • taken up by some succeeding Writers, and many thereof revived by our
  • Countryman, Sir _John Mandevil_, Knight, and Doctor in Physick; who
  • after thirty years peregrination died at _Liege_, and was there
  • honourably interred. He left a Book of his Travels, which hath been
  • honoured with the translation of many Languages, and now continued above
  • three hundred years; herein he often attesteth the fabulous relations of
  • _Ctesias_, and seems to confirm the refuted accounts of Antiquity. All
  • which may still be received in some acceptions of morality, and to a
  • pregnant invention, may afford commendable mythologie; but in a natural
  • and proper exposition, it containeth impossibilities, and things
  • inconsistent with truth.
  • 3. There is a Book _De mirandis auditionibus_, ascribed unto
  • _Aristotle_; another _De mirabilibus narrationibus_, written long after
  • by _Antigonus_, another also of the same title by _Plegon Trallianus_,
  • translated by _Xilander_, and with the Annotations of _Meursius_, all
  • whereof make good the promise of their titles, and may be read with
  • caution. Which if any man shall likewise observe in the Lecture of
  • _Philostratus_, concerning the life of _Apollonius_, and even in some
  • passages of the sober and learned _Plutarchus_; or not only in ancient
  • Writers, but shall carry a wary eye on _Paulus Venetus_, _Jovius_,
  • _Olaus Magnus_, _Nierembergius_, and many other: I think his
  • circumspection is laudable, and he may thereby decline occasion of
  • Error.
  • [Sidenote: _A like opinion there is now of Elder._]
  • 4. _Dioscorides Anazarbeus_, he wrote many Books in Physick, but six
  • thereof _De Materia Medica_, have found the greatest esteem: he is an
  • Author of good antiquity and use, preferred by _Galen_ before
  • _Cratevas_, _Pamphilus_, and all that attempted the like description
  • before him; yet all he delivereth therein is not to be conceived
  • Oraculous. For beside that, following the wars under _Anthony_, the
  • course of his life would not permit a punctual _Examen_ in all; there
  • are many things concerning the nature of Simples, traditionally
  • delivered, and to which I believe he gave no assent himself. It had been
  • an excellent Receit, and in his time when Saddles were scarce in fashion
  • of very great use, if that were true which he delivers, that _Vitex_, or
  • _Agnus Castus_ held only in the hand, preserveth the rider from galling.
  • It were a strange effect, and Whores would forsake the experiment of
  • _Savine_, if that were a truth which he delivereth of Brake or female
  • Fearn, that onely treading over it, it causeth a sudden abortion. It
  • were to be wished true, and women would idolize him, could that be made
  • out which he recordeth of _Phyllon_, _Mercury_, and other vegetables,
  • that the juice of the male Plant drunk, or the leaves but applied unto
  • the genitals, determines their conceptions unto males. In these
  • relations although he be more sparing, his predecessors were very
  • numerous; and _Galen_ hereof most sharply accuseth _Pamphilus_. Many of
  • the like nature we meet sometimes in _Oribasius_, _Ætius_, _Trallianus_,
  • _Serapion_, _Evax_, and _Marcellus_, whereof some containing no colour
  • of verity, we may at first sight reject them; others which seem to
  • carry some face of truth, we may reduce unto experiment. And herein we
  • shall rather perform good offices unto truth, then any disservice unto
  • their relators, who have well deserved of succeeding Ages; from whom
  • having received the conceptions of former Times, we have the readier
  • hint of their conformity with ours, and may accordingly explore and sift
  • their verities.
  • [Sidenote: _Plinius Natural History collected out of 2000 several
  • Authors._]
  • 5. _Plinius Secundus of Verona_; a man of great Eloquence, and industry
  • indefatigable, as may appear by his writings, especially those now
  • extant, and which are never like to perish, but even with learning it
  • self; that is, his Natural History. He was the greatest Collector or
  • Rhapsodist of the Latines, and as _Suetonius_ observeth, he collected
  • this piece out of two thousand Latine and Greek Authors. Now what is
  • very strange, there is scarce a popular error passant in our days, which
  • is not either directly expressed, or diductively contained in this Work;
  • which being in the hands of most men, hath proved a powerful occasion of
  • their propagation. Wherein notwithstanding the credulity of the Reader,
  • is more condemnable than the curiosity of the Author: for commonly he
  • nameth the Authors from whom he received those accounts, and writes but
  • as he reads, as in his Preface to _Vespasian_ he acknowledgeth.
  • 6. _Claudius Ælianus_, who flourished not long after in the reign of
  • _Trajan_, unto whom he dedicated his Tacticks; an elegant and
  • miscellaneous Author, he hath left two Books which are in the hands of
  • every one, his History of Animals, and his _Varia Historia_. Wherein are
  • contained many things suspicious, not a few false, some impossible; he
  • is much beholding unto _Ctesias_, and in many uncertainties writes more
  • confidently then _Pliny_.
  • 7. _Julius Solinus_, who lived also about his time: He left a Work
  • entituled _Polyhistor_, containing great variety of matter, and is with
  • most in good request at this day. But to speak freely what cannot be
  • concealed, it is but _Pliny_ varied, or a transcription of his Natural
  • History: nor is it without all wonder it hath continued so long, but is
  • now likely, and deserves indeed to live for ever; not onely for the
  • elegancy of the Text, but the excellency of the Comment, lately
  • performed by _Salmasius_, under the name of _Plinian_ Exercitations.
  • 8. _Athenæs_, a delectable Author, very various, and justly stiled by
  • _Casaubon, Græcorum Plinius_. There is extant of his, a famous Piece,
  • under the name of _Deipnosophista_, or _Cœna Sapientum_, containing
  • the Discourse of many learned men, at a Feast provided by _Laurentius_.
  • It is a laborious Collection out of many Authors, and some whereof are
  • mentioned no where else. It containeth strange and singular relations,
  • not without some spice or sprinkling of all Learning. The Author was
  • probably a better Grammarian then Philosopher, dealing but hardly with
  • _Aristotle_ and _Plato_, and betrayeth himself much in his Chapter _De
  • Curiositate Aristotelis_. In brief, he is an Author of excellent use,
  • and may with discretion be read unto great advantage: and hath therefore
  • well deserved the Comments of _Casaubon_ and _Dalecampius_. But being
  • miscellaneous in many things, he is to be received with suspition; for
  • such as amass all relations, must erre in some, and may without offence
  • be unbelieved in many.
  • [Sidenote: _That write Hexameters, or long verses._]
  • 9. We will not omit the works of _Nicander_, a Poet of good antiquity:
  • that is, his _Theriaca_, and _Alexipharmaca_, Translated and Commented
  • by _Gorræus_: for therein are contained several Traditions, and popular
  • Conceits of venemous Beasts; which only deducted, the Work is to be
  • embraced, as containing the first description of poysons and their
  • antidotes, whereof _Dioscorides_, _Pliny_, and _Galen_, have made
  • especial use in elder times; and _Ardoynus_, _Grevinus_, and others, in
  • times more near our own. We might perhaps let pass _Oppianus_, that
  • famous Cilician Poet. There are extant of his in Greek, four Books of
  • Cynegeticks or Venation, five of Halieuticks or Piscation, commented and
  • published by _Ritterhusius_; wherein describing Beasts of venery and
  • Fishes, he hath indeed but sparingly inserted the vulgar conceptions
  • thereof. So that abating the annual mutation of Sexes in the _Hyæna_,
  • the single Sex of the _Rhinoceros_, the Antipathy between two Drums, of
  • a Lamb and a Wolfes skin, the informity of Cubs, the venation of
  • _Centaures_, the copulation of the _Murena_ and the Viper, with some few
  • others, he may be read with great delight and profit. It is not without
  • some wonder his Elegant Lines are so neglected. Surely hereby we reject
  • one of the best Epick Poets, and much condemn the Judgement of
  • _Antoninus_, whose apprehensions so honoured his Poems, that as some
  • report, for every verse, he assigned him a Stater of Gold.
  • 10. More warily are we to receive the relations of _Philes_, who in
  • _Greek Iambicks_ delivered the proprieties of Animals, for herein he
  • hath amassed the vulgar accounts recorded by the Ancients, and hath
  • therein especially followed _Ælian_. And likewise _Johannes Tzetzes_, a
  • Grammarian, who besides a Comment upon _Hesiod_ and _Homer_, hath left
  • us _Chiliads de Varia Historia_; wherein delivering the accounts of
  • _Ctesias_, _Herodotus_, and most of the Ancients, he is to be embraced
  • with caution, and as a transcriptive Relator.
  • 11. We cannot without partiality omit all caution even of holy Writers,
  • and such whose names are venerable unto all posterity: not to meddle at
  • all with miraculous Authors, or any Legendary relators, we are not
  • without circumspection to receive some Books even of authentick and
  • renowned Fathers. So are we to read the leaves of _Basil_ and _Ambrose_,
  • in their Books entituled _Hexameron_, or _The Description of the
  • Creation_; Wherein delivering particular accounts of all the Creatures,
  • they have left us relations sutable to those of _Ælian_, _Plinie_, and
  • other Natural Writers; whose authorities herein they followed, and from
  • whom most probably they desumed their Narrations. And the like hath been
  • committed by _Epiphanius_, in his Physiologie: that is, a Book he hath
  • left concerning the Nature of Animals. With no less caution must we look
  • on _Isidor_ Bishop of _Sevil_; who having left in twenty Books, an
  • accurate work _De Originibus_, hath to the Etymologie of Words,
  • super-added their received Natures; wherein most generally he consents
  • with common Opinions and Authors which have delivered them.
  • 12. _Albertus_ Bishop of _Ratisbone_, for his great Learning and
  • latitude of Knowledge, sirnamed _Magnus_. Besides Divinity, he hath
  • written many Tracts in Philosophy; what we are chiefly to receive with
  • caution, are his Natural Tractates, more especially those of Minerals,
  • Vegetables, and Animals, which are indeed chiefly Collections out of
  • _Aristotle_, _Ælian_, and _Pliny_, and respectively contain many of our
  • popular Errors. A man who hath much advanced these Opinions by the
  • authority of his Name, and delivered most Conceits, with strict Enquiry
  • into few. In the same _Classis_ may well be placed _Vincentius
  • Belluacensis_, or rather he from whom he collected his _Speculum
  • naturale_, that is, _Guilielmus de Conchis_; and also _Hortus
  • Sanitatis_, and _Bartholomeus Glanvil_, sirnamed _Anglicus_, who writ
  • _De proprietatibus Rerum_. Hither also may be referred _Kiranides_,
  • which is a Collection out of _Harpocration_ the Greek, and sundry
  • Arabick Writers; delivering not onely the Natural but Magical propriety
  • of things; a Work as full of Vanity as Variety; containing many
  • relations, whose Invention is as difficult as their Beliefs, and their
  • Experiments sometime as hard as either.
  • 13. We had almost forgot _Jeronimus Cardanus_ that famous Physician of
  • _Milan_, a great Enquirer of Truth, but too greedy a Receiver of it. He
  • hath left many excellent Discourses, Medical, Natural, and Astrological;
  • the most suspicious are those two he wrote by admonition in a dream,
  • that is _De Subtilitate & Varietate Rerum_. Assuredly this learned man
  • hath taken many things upon trust, and although examined some, hath let
  • slip many others. He is of singular use unto a prudent Reader; but unto
  • him that onely desireth Hoties, or to replenish his head with varieties;
  • like many others before related, either in the Original or confirmation,
  • he may become no small occasion of Error.
  • 14. Lastly, Authors are also suspicious, not greedily to be swallowed,
  • who pretend to write of Secrets, to deliver Antipathies, Sympathies, and
  • the occult abstrusities of things; in the list whereof may be accounted,
  • _Alexis Pedimontanus_, _Antonius Mizaldus_, _Trinum Magicum_, and many
  • others. Not omitting that famous Philosopher of _Naples_, _Baptista
  • Porta_; in whose Works, although there be contained many excellent
  • things, and verified upon his own Experience; yet are there many also
  • receptary, and such as will not endure the test. Who although he hath
  • delivered many strange Relations in his Phytognomia, and his Villa; yet
  • hath he more remarkably expressed himself in his Natural Magick, and the
  • miraculous effects of Nature. Which containing various and delectable
  • subjects, withall promising wondrous and easie effects, they are
  • entertained by Readers at all hands; whereof the major part sit down in
  • his authority, and thereby omit not onely the certainty of Truth, but
  • the pleasure of its Experiment.
  • Thus have we made a brief enumeration of these Learned Men; not willing
  • any to decline their Works (without which it is not easie to attain any
  • measure of general Knowledge,) but to apply themselves with caution
  • thereunto. And seeing the lapses of these worthy Pens, to cast a wary
  • eye on those diminutive, and pamphlet Treaties daily published amongst
  • us. Pieces maintaining rather Typography than Verity, Authors presumably
  • writing by Common Places, wherein for many years promiscuously amassing
  • all that makes for their subject, they break forth at last in trite and
  • fruitless Rhapsodies; doing thereby not only open injury unto Learning,
  • but committing a secret treachery upon truth. For their relations
  • falling upon credulous Readers, they meet with prepared beliefs; whose
  • supinities had rather assent unto all, then adventure the trial of any.
  • Thus, I say, must these Authors be read, and thus must we be read our
  • selves; for discoursing of matters dubious, and many convertible truths;
  • we cannot without arrogancy entreat a credulity, or implore any farther
  • assent, then the probability of our Reasons, and verity of experiments
  • induce.
  • CHAPTER IX
  • Of the Same.
  • There are beside these Authors and such as have positively promoted
  • errors, divers other which are in some way accessory; whose verities
  • although they do not directly assert, yet do they obliquely concur unto
  • their beliefs. In which account are many holy Writers, Preachers,
  • Moralists, Rhetoricians, Orators and Poets; for they depending upon
  • Invention, deduce their mediums from all things whatsoever; and playing
  • much upon the simile, or illustrative argumentation: to induce their
  • Enthymemes unto the people, they took up popular conceits, and from
  • traditions unjustifiable or really false, illustrate matters of
  • undeniable truth. Wherein although their intention be sincere, and that
  • course not much condemnable; yet doth it notoriously strengthen common
  • Errors, and authorise Opinions injurious unto truth.
  • [Sidenote: _Expressions of holy Scripture fitted many times rather to
  • popular and common apprehension, then to the exact Nature of things._]
  • Thus have some Divines drawn into argument the Fable of the _Phœnix_,
  • made use of that of the _Salamander_, _Pelican_, _Basilisk_, and divers
  • relations of _Plinie_; deducing from thence most worthy morals, and even
  • upon our Saviour. Now although this be not prejudicial unto wiser
  • Judgments, who are but weakly moved with such arguments, yet it is oft
  • times occasion of Error unto vulgar heads, who expect in the Fable as
  • equal a truth as in the Moral, and conceive that infallible Philosophy,
  • which is in any sense delivered by Divinity. But wiser discerners do
  • well understand, that every Art hath its own circle; that the effects
  • of things are best examined, by sciences wherein are delivered their
  • causes; that strict and definitive expressions, are alway required in
  • Philosophy, but a loose and popular delivery will serve oftentimes in
  • Divinity. As may be observed even in holy Scripture, which often
  • omitteth the exact account of things; describing them rather to our
  • apprehensions, then leaving doubts in vulgar minds, upon their unknown
  • and Philosophical descriptions. Thus it termeth the Sun and the Moon the
  • two great lights of Heaven. Now if any shall from hence conclude, the
  • Moon is second in magnitude unto the Sun, he must excuse my belief; and
  • it cannot be strange, if herein I rather adhere unto the demonstration
  • of _Ptolomy_, then the popular description of _Moses_. Thus is it said,
  • _Chron._ 2. 4. That _Solomon_ made a molten Sea of ten Cubits from brim
  • to brim round in compass, and five Cubits the height thereof, and a line
  • of thirty Cubits did compass it round about. Now in this description,
  • the circumference is made just treble unto the Diameter: that is, as 10.
  • to 30. or 7. to 21. But _Archimedes_ [SN: _In his Cyclometria._]
  • demonstrates, that the proportion of the Diameter unto the
  • circumference, is as 7. unto almost 22. which will occasion a sensible
  • difference, that is almost a Cubit. Now if herein I adhere unto
  • _Archimedes_ who speaketh exactly, rather then the sacred Text which
  • speaketh largely; I hope I shall not offend Divinity: I am sure I shall
  • have reason and experience of every circle to support me.
  • Thus Moral Writers, Rhetoricians and Orators make use of several
  • relations which will not consist with verity. _Aristotle_ in his Ethicks
  • takes up the conceit of the _Bever_, and the divulsion of his Testicles.
  • The tradition of the Bear, the Viper, and divers others are frequent
  • amongst Orators. All which although unto the illiterate and undiscerning
  • hearers may seem a confirmation of their realities; yet is this no
  • reasonable establishment unto others, who will not depend hereon
  • otherwise then common Apologues: which being of impossible falsities, do
  • notwithstanding include wholsome moralities, and such as expiate the
  • trespass of their absurdities.
  • The Hieroglyphical doctrine of the Ægyptians (which in their four
  • hundred years cohabitation some conjecture they learned from the
  • Hebrews) hath much advanced many popular conceits. For using an Alphabet
  • of things, and not of words, through the image and pictures thereof,
  • they endeavoured to speak their hidden conceits in the letters and
  • language of Nature. In pursuit whereof, although in many things, they
  • exceeded not their true and real apprehensions; yet in some other they
  • either framing the story, or taking up the tradition, conducible unto
  • their intentions, obliquely confirmed many falsities; which as
  • authentick and conceded truths did after pass unto the Greeks, from them
  • unto other Nations, and are still retained by symbolical Writers,
  • Emblematists, Heralds, and others. Whereof some are strictly maintained
  • for truths, as naturally making good their artificial representations;
  • others symbolically intended, are literally received, and swallowed in
  • the first sense, without all gust of the second. Whereby we pervert the
  • profound and mysterious knowledge of Ægypt; containing the Arcana's of
  • Greek Antiquities, the Key of many obscurities and ancient learning
  • extant. Famous herein in former Ages were _Heraiscus_, _Cheremon_,
  • _Epius_, especially _Orus Apollo Niliacus_: who lived in the reign of
  • _Theodosius_, and in Ægyptian language left two Books of
  • Hieroglyphicks, translated into Greek by _Philippus_, and a large
  • collection of all made after by _Pierius_. But no man is likely to
  • profound the Ocean of that Doctrine, beyond that eminent example of
  • industrious Learning, _Kircherus_.
  • Painters who are the visible representers of things, and such as by the
  • learned sense of the eye endeavour to inform the understanding, are not
  • inculpable herein, who either describing Naturals as they are, or
  • actions as they have been, have oftentimes erred in their delineations.
  • Which being the Books that all can read, are fruitful advancers of these
  • conceptions, especially in common and popular apprehensions: who being
  • unable for farther enquiry, must rest in the draught and letter of their
  • descriptions.
  • Lastly, Poets and Poetical Writers have in this point exceeded others,
  • trimly advancing the Ægyptian notions of _Harpies_, _Phœnix_,
  • _Gryphins_ and many more. Now however to make use of Fictions,
  • Apologues, and Fables, be not unwarrantable, and the intent of these
  • inventions might point at laudable ends; yet do they afford our junior
  • capacities a frequent occasion of error, setling impressions in our
  • tender memories, which our advanced judgments generally neglect to
  • expunge. This way the vain and idle fictions of the Gentiles did first
  • insinuate into the heads of Christians; and thus are they continued even
  • unto our days. Our first and literary apprehensions being commonly
  • instructed in Authors which handle nothing else; wherewith our memories
  • being stuffed, our inventions become pedantick, and cannot avoid their
  • allusions; driving at these as at the highest elegancies, which are but
  • the frigidities of wit, and become not the genius of manly ingenuities.
  • It were therefore no loss like that of _Galens_ Library, if these had
  • found the same fate; and would in some way requite the neglect of solid
  • Authors, if they were less pursued. For were a pregnant wit educated in
  • ignorance hereof, receiving only impressions from realities; upon such
  • solid foundations, it must surely raise more substantial
  • superstructions, and fall upon very many excellent strains, which have
  • been jusled off by their intrusions.
  • CHAPTER X
  • Of the last and common Promoter of false Opinions, the endeavours of
  • Satan.
  • [Sidenote: _The Devils method of propagating Error in the World._]
  • But beside the infirmities of humane Nature, the seed of Error within
  • our selves, and the several ways of delusion from each other, there is
  • an invisible Agent, and secret promoter without us, whose activity is
  • undiscerned, and plays in the dark upon us; and that is the first
  • contriver of Error, and professed opposer of Truth, the Devil. For
  • though permitted unto his proper principles, _Adam_ perhaps would have
  • sinned without the suggestion of Satan: and from the transgressive
  • infirmities of himself might have erred alone, as well as the Angels
  • before him: And although also there were no Devil at all, yet there is
  • now in our Natures a confessed sufficiency unto corruption, and the
  • frailty of our own Oeconomie, were able to betray us out of Truth, yet
  • wants there not another Agent, who taking advantage hereof proceedeth to
  • obscure the diviner part, and efface all tract of its traduction. To
  • attempt a particular of all his wiles, is too bold an Arithmetick for
  • man: what most considerably concerneth his popular and practised ways of
  • delusion, he first deceiveth mankind in five main points concerning God
  • and himself.
  • And first his endeavours have ever been, and they cease not yet to
  • instill a belief in the mind of Man, there is no God at all. And this he
  • principally endeavours to establish in a direct and literal
  • apprehension; that is, that there is no such reality existent, that the
  • necessity of his entity dependeth upon ours, and is but a Political
  • Chymera; that the natural truth of God is an artificial erection of Man,
  • and the Creator himself but a subtile invention of the Creature. Where
  • he succeeds not thus high, he labours to introduce a secondary and
  • deductive Atheism; that although men concede there is a God, yet should
  • they deny his providence. And therefore assertions have flown about,
  • that he intendeth only the care of the species or common natures, but
  • letteth loose the guard of individuals, and single existencies therein:
  • that he looks not below the Moon, but hath designed the regiment of
  • sublunary affairs unto inferiour deputations. To promote which
  • apprehensions, or empuzzel their due conceptions, he casteth in the
  • notions of fate, destiny, fortune, chance, and necessity; terms commonly
  • misconceived by vulgar heads, and their propriety sometime perverted by
  • the wisest. Whereby extinguishing in minds the compensation of vertue
  • and vice, the hope and fear of Heaven or Hell; they comply in their
  • actions unto the drift of his delusions, and live like creatures without
  • the capacity of either.
  • Now hereby he not onely undermineth the Base of Religion, and destroyeth
  • the principle preambulous unto all belief; but puts upon us the remotest
  • Error from Truth. For Atheism is the greatest falsity, and to affirm
  • there is no God, the highest lie in Nature. And therefore strictly
  • taken, some men will say his labour is in vain; For many there are, who
  • cannot conceive there was ever any absolute _Atheist_; or such as could
  • determine there was no God, without all check from himself, or
  • contradiction from his other opinions. And therefore those few so called
  • by elder times, might be the best of _Pagans_; suffering that name
  • rather in relation to the gods of the Gentiles, then the true Creator of
  • all. A conceit that cannot befal his greatest enemy, or him that would
  • induce the same in us; who hath a sensible apprehension hereof, for he
  • believeth with trembling. To speak yet more strictly and conformably
  • unto some Opinions, no creature can wish thus much; nor can the Will
  • which hath a power to run into velleities, and wishes of
  • impossibilities, have any _utinam_ of this. For to desire there were no
  • God, were plainly to unwish their own being; which must needs be
  • annihilated in the substraction of that essence which substantially
  • supporteth them, and restrains them from regression into nothing. And if
  • as some contend, no creature can desire his own annihilation, that
  • Nothing is not appetible, and not to be at all, is worse then to be in
  • the miserablest condition of something; the Devil himself could not
  • embrace that motion, nor would the enemy of God be freed by such a
  • Redemption.
  • But coldly thriving in this design, as being repulsed by the principles
  • of humanity, and the dictates of that production, which cannot deny its
  • original, he fetcheth a wider circle; and when he cannot make men
  • conceive there is no God at all, he endeavours to make them believe
  • there is not one, but many: wherein he hath been so successful with
  • common heads, that he hath led their belief thorow the Works of Nature.
  • [Sidenote: _Areopagus the severe Court of Athens._]
  • Now in this latter attempt, the subtilty of his circumvention, hath
  • indirectly obtained the former. For although to opinion there be many
  • gods, may seem an excess in Religion, and such as cannot at all consist
  • with Atheism, yet doth it deductively and upon inference include the
  • same, for Unity is the inseparable and essential attribute of Deity; and
  • if there be more then one God, it is no Atheism to say there is no God
  • at all. And herein though _Socrates_ only suffered, yet were _Plato_ and
  • _Aristotle_ guilty of the same Truth; who demonstratively understanding
  • the simplicity of perfection, and the indivisible condition of the first
  • causator, it was not in the power of Earth, or Areopagy of Hell [SN:
  • _Areopagus the severe Court of Athens._] to work them from it. For
  • holding an [19]Apodictical knowledge, and assured science of its verity,
  • to perswade their apprehensions unto a plurality of gods in the world,
  • were to make _Euclide_ believe there were more than one Center in a
  • Circle, or one right Angle in a Triangle; which were indeed a fruitless
  • attempt, and inferreth absurdities beyond the evasion of Hell. For
  • though Mechanick and vulgar heads ascend not unto such comprehensions,
  • who live not commonly unto half the advantage of their principles; yet
  • did they not escape the eye of wiser _Minerva's_, and such as made good
  • the genealogie of _Jupiters_ brains; who although they had divers stiles
  • for God, yet under many appellations acknowledged one divinity: rather
  • conceiving thereby the evidence or acts of his power in several ways and
  • places, then a multiplication of Essence, or real distraction of unity
  • in any one.
  • [19] _Demonstrative._
  • Again, To render our errors more monstrous (and what unto miracle sets
  • forth the patience of God,) he hath endeavoured to make the world
  • believe, that he was God himself; and failing of his first attempt to be
  • but like the highest in Heaven, he hath obtained with men to be the same
  • on Earth. And hath accordingly assumed the annexes of Divinity, and the
  • prerogatives of the Creator, drawing into practice the operation of
  • miracles, and the prescience of things to come. Thus hath he in a
  • specious way wrought cures upon the sick: played over the wondrous acts
  • of Prophets, and counterfeited many miracles of Christ and his Apostles.
  • Thus hath he openly contended with God, and to this effect his insolency
  • was not ashamed to play a solemn prize with _Moses_; wherein although
  • his performance were very specious, and beyond the common apprehension
  • of any power below a Deity; yet was it not such as could make good his
  • Omnipotency. For he was wholly confounded in the conversion of dust into
  • lice. An act Philosophy can scarce deny to be above the power of Nature,
  • nor upon a requisite predisposition beyond the efficacy of the Sun.
  • Wherein notwithstanding the head of the old Serpent was confessedly too
  • weak for _Moses_ hand, and the arm of his Magicians too short for the
  • finger of God.
  • [Sidenote: _The Authors opinion, touching Necromancy and apparitions of
  • the spirits of men departed._]
  • Thus hath he also made men believe that he can raise the dead, that he
  • hath the key of life and death, and a prerogative above that principle
  • which makes no regression from privations. The Stoicks that opinioned
  • the souls of wise men dwelt about the Moon, and those of fools wandered
  • about the Earth, advantaged the conceit of this effect; wherein the
  • Epicureans, who held that death was nothing, nor nothing after death,
  • must contradict their principles to be deceived. Nor could the
  • Pythagoreans or such as maintained the transmigration of souls give
  • easie admittance hereto: for holding that separated souls successively
  • supplied other bodies, they could hardly allow the raising of souls from
  • other worlds, which at the same time, they conceived conjoyned unto
  • bodies in this. More inconsistent with these Opinions, is the Error of
  • Christians, who holding the dead do rest in the Lord, do yet believe
  • they are at the lure of the Devil; that he who is in bonds himself
  • commandeth the fetters of the dead, and dwelling in the bottomless lake,
  • the blessed from _Abrahams_ bosome, that can believe the real
  • resurrection of _Samuel_: or that there is any thing but delusion in the
  • practice of [20]Necromancy and popular raising of Ghosts.
  • [20] _Divination by the dead._
  • [Sidenote: _How the Devil works his pretended revelations or
  • predictions._]
  • He hath moreover endeavoured the opinion of Deity, by the delusion of
  • Dreams, and the discovery of things to come in sleep, above the
  • prescience of our waked senses. In this expectation he perswaded the
  • credulity of elder times to take up their lodging before his temple, in
  • skins of their own sacrifices: till his reservedness had contrived
  • answers, whose accomplishments were in his power, or not beyond his
  • presagement. Which way, although it had pleased Almighty God, sometimes
  • to reveal himself, yet was the proceeding very different. For the
  • revelations of Heaven are conveyed by new impressions, and the immediate
  • illumination of the soul, whereas the deceiving spirit, by concitation
  • of humours, produceth his conceited phantasms, or by compounding the
  • species already residing, doth make up words which mentally speak his
  • intentions.
  • But above all he most advanced his Deity in the solemn practice of
  • Oracles, wherein in several parts of the World, he publikely professed
  • his Divinity; but how short they flew of that spirit, whose omniscience,
  • they would resemble, their weakness sufficiently declared. What jugling
  • there was therein, the Orator [SN: _Demosthenes._] plainly confessed,
  • who being good at the same game himself, could say that _Pythia_
  • Philippised. Who can but laugh at the carriage of _Ammon_ unto
  • _Alexander_, who addressing unto him as a god, was made to believe, he
  • was a god himself? How openly did he betray his Indivinity unto
  • _Crœsus_, who being ruined by his Amphibology, and expostulating with
  • him for so ungrateful a deceit, received no higher answer then the
  • excuse of his impotency upon the contradiction of fate, and the setled
  • law of powers beyond his power to controle! What more then sublunary
  • directions, or such as might proceed from the Oracle of humane Reason,
  • was in his advice unto the Spartans in the time of a great Plague; when
  • for the cessation thereof, he wisht them to have recourse unto a Fawn,
  • that is in open terms, unto one Nebrus, a good Physitian of those days?
  • [SN: Nebros, _in Greek, a Fawn_.] From no diviner a spirit came his
  • reply unto _Caracalla_, who requiring a remedy for his Gout, received no
  • other counsel then to refrain cold drink; which was but a dietetical
  • caution, and such as without a journey unto _Æsculapius_, culinary
  • prescription and kitchin Aphorisms might have afforded at home. Nor
  • surely if any truth there were therein, of more then natural activity
  • was his counsel unto _Democritus_; when for the Falling sickness he
  • commended the Maggot in a Goats head. For many things secret are true;
  • sympathies and antipathies are safely authentick unto us, who ignorant
  • of their causes may yet acknowledge their effects. Beside, being a
  • natural Magician he may perform many acts in ways above our knowledge,
  • though not transcending our natural power, when our knowledge shall
  • direct it. Part hereof hath been discovered by himself, and some by
  • humane indagation: which though magnified as fresh inventions unto us,
  • are stale unto his cognition. I hardly believe he hath from elder times
  • unknown the verticity of the Loadstone; surely his perspicacity
  • discerned it to respect the North, when ours beheld it indeterminately.
  • Many secrets there are in Nature of difficult discovery unto man, of
  • easie knowledge unto Satan; whereof some his vain glory cannot conceal,
  • others his envy will not discover.
  • Again, Such is the mysterie of his delusion, that although he labour to
  • make us believe that he is God, and supremest nature whatsoever, yet
  • would he also perswade our beliefs, that he is less then Angels or men;
  • and his condition not onely subjected unto rational powers, but the
  • actions of things which have no efficacy on our selves. Thus hath he
  • inveigled no small part of the world into a credulity of artificial
  • Magick: That there is an Art, which without compact commandeth the
  • powers of Hell; whence some have delivered the polity of spirits, and
  • left an account even to their Provincial Dominions: that they stand in
  • awe of Charms, Spels, and Conjurations; that he is afraid of letters and
  • characters, of notes and dashes, which set together do signifie nothing,
  • not only in the dictionary of man, but the subtiler vocabulary of Satan.
  • That there is any power in _Bitumen_, Pitch, or Brimstone, to purifie
  • the air from his uncleanness; that any vertue there is in _Hipericon_
  • [SN: St. Johns _Wort, so called by Magicians_.] to make good the name of
  • _fuga Dæmonis_, any such Magick as is ascribed unto the Root _Baaras_ by
  • _Josephus_, or _Cynospastus_ by _Ælianus_, it is not easie to believe;
  • nor is it naturally made out what is delivered of _Tobias_, that by the
  • fume of a Fishes liver, he put to flight _Asmodeus_. That they are
  • afraid of the pentangle of _Solomon_, though so set forth with the body
  • of man, as to touch and point out the five places wherein our Saviour
  • was wounded, I know not how to assent. [SN: _3 triangles intersected and
  • made of five lines._] If perhaps he hath fled from holy Water, if he
  • cares not to hear the sound of _Tetragrammaton_ [SN: _Implying Jehovah,
  • which in Hebrew consisteth of four letters._], if his eye delight not in
  • the sign of the Cross; and that sometimes he will seem to be charmed
  • with words of holy Scripture, and to flie from the letter and dead
  • verbality, who must onely start at the life and animated interiors
  • thereof: It may be feared they are but _Parthian_ flights, _Ambuscado_
  • retreats, and elusory tergiversations: Whereby to confirm our
  • credulities, he will comply with the opinion of such powers, which in
  • themselves have no activities. Whereof having once begot in our minds an
  • assured dependence, he makes us relie on powers which he but
  • precariously obeys; and to desert those true and only charms which Hell
  • cannot withstand.
  • Lastly, To lead us farther into darkness, and quite to lose us in this
  • maze of Error, he would make men believe there is no such creature as
  • himself: and that he is not onely subject unto inferiour creatures, but
  • in the rank of nothing. Insinuating into mens minds there is no Devil at
  • all, and contriveth accordingly, many ways to conceal or indubitate his
  • existency. Wherein beside that he annihilates the blessed Angels and
  • Spirits in the rank of his Creation; he begets a security of himself,
  • and a careless eye unto the last remunerations. And therefore hereto he
  • inveigleth, not only _Sadduces_ and such as retain unto the Church of
  • God: but is also content that _Epicurus_, _Democritus_, or any Heathen
  • should hold the same. And to this effect he maketh men believe that
  • apparitions, and such as confirm his existence are either deceptions of
  • sight, or melancholly depravements of phansie. Thus when he had not
  • onely appeared but spake unto _Brutus_; _Cassius_ the Epicurian was
  • ready at hand to perswade him, it was but a mistake in his weary
  • imagination, and that indeed there were no such realities in nature.
  • Thus he endeavours to propagate the unbelief of Witches, whose
  • concession infers his co-existency; by this means also he advanceth the
  • opinion of total death, and staggereth the immortality of the soul; for,
  • such as deny there are spirits subsistent without bodies, will with more
  • difficulty affirm the separated existence of their own.
  • Now to induce and bring about these falsities, he hath laboured to
  • destroy the evidence of Truth, that is the revealed verity and written
  • Word of God. To which intent he hath obtained with some to repudiate the
  • Books of _Moses_, others those of the Prophets, and some both: to deny
  • the Gospel and authentick Histories of Christ; to reject that of _John_,
  • and to receive that of _Judas_; to disallow all, and erect another of
  • _Thomas_. And when neither their corruption by _Valentinus_ and
  • _Arrius_, their mutilation by _Marcion_, _Manes_, and _Ebion_ could
  • satisfie his design, he attempted the ruine and total destruction
  • thereof; as he sedulously endeavoured, by the power and subtilty of
  • _Julian_, _Maximinus_, and _Dioclesian_.
  • But the longevity of that piece, which hath so long escaped the common
  • fate, and the providence of that Spirit which ever waketh over it, may
  • at last discourage such attempts; and if not make doubtful its
  • Mortality, at least indubitably declare; this is a stone too big for
  • _Saturns_ mouth, and a bit indeed Oblivion cannot swallow.
  • And thus how strangely he possesseth us with Errors may clearly be
  • observed, deluding us into contradictory and inconsistent falsities;
  • whilest he would make us believe, That there is no God. That there are
  • many. That he himself is God. That he is less then Angels or Men. That
  • he is nothing at all.
  • Nor hath he onely by these wiles depraved the conception of the Creator,
  • but with such Riddles hath also entangled the Nature of our Redeemer.
  • Some denying his Humanity, and that he was one of the Angels, as
  • _Ebion_; that the Father and Son were but one person, as _Sabellius_.
  • That his body was phantastical, as _Manes_, _Basilides_, _Priscillian_,
  • _Jovinianus_; that he only passed through _Mary_, as _Utyches_ and
  • _Valentinus_. Some denying his Divinity; that he was begotten of humane
  • principles, and the seminal Son of _Joseph_; as _Carpocras_,
  • _Symmachus_, _Photinus_: that he was _Seth_ the Son of _Adam_, as the
  • _Sethians_: that he was less then Angels, as _Cherinthus_: that he was
  • inferiour unto _Melchisedec_, as _Theodotus_: that he was not God, but
  • God dwelt in him, as _Nicholaus_: and some embroyled them both. So did
  • they which converted the Trinity into a Quaternity, and affirmed two
  • persons in Christ, as _Paulus Samosatenus_: that held he was Man without
  • a Soul, and that the Word performed that office in him, as
  • _Apollinaris_: that he was both Son and Father, as _Montanus_: that
  • _Jesus_ suffered, but Christ remained impatible, as _Cherinthus_. Thus
  • he endeavours to entangle Truths: And when he cannot possibly destroy
  • its substance, he cunningly confounds its apprehensions; that from the
  • inconsistent and contrary determinations thereof, consectary impieties,
  • and hopeful conclusions may arise, there's no such thing at all.
  • CHAPTER XI
  • A further Illustration.
  • Now although these ways of delusions most Christians have escaped, yet
  • are there many other whereunto we are daily betrayed, and these we meet
  • with in obvious occurrents of the world, wherein he induceth us, to
  • ascribe effects unto causes of no cognation; and distorting the order
  • and theory of causes perpendicular to their effects, he draws them aside
  • unto things whereto they run parallel, and in their proper motions would
  • never meet together.
  • Thus doth he sometime delude us in the conceits of Stars and Meteors,
  • beside their allowable actions ascribing effects thereunto of
  • independent causations. Thus hath he also made the ignorant sort believe
  • that natural effects immediately and commonly proceed from supernatural
  • powers: and these he usually drives from Heaven, his own principality
  • the Air, and Meteors therein; which being of themselves the effects of
  • natural and created causes, and such as upon a due conjunction of
  • actives and passives, without a miracle must arise unto what they
  • appear; are always looked on by ignorant spectators as supernatural
  • spectacles, and made the causes or signs of most succeeding
  • contingencies. To behold a Rainbow in the night, is no prodigy unto a
  • Philosopher. Then Eclipses of Sun or Moon, nothing is more natural. Yet
  • with what superstition they have been beheld since the Tragedy of
  • _Nicias_ and his Army, many examples declare.
  • True it is, and we will not deny, that although these being natural
  • productions from second and setled causes, we need not alway look upon
  • them as the immediate hand of God, or of his ministring Spirits; yet do
  • they sometimes admit a respect therein; and even in their naturals, the
  • indifferency of their existencies contemporised unto our actions, admits
  • a further consideration.
  • That two or three Suns or Moons appear in any mans life or reign, it is
  • not worth the wonder. But that the same should fall out at a remarkable
  • time, or point of some decisive action; that the contingency of the
  • appearance should be confirmed unto that time; that those two should
  • make but one line in the Book of Fate, and stand together in the great
  • Ephemerides of God; beside the Philosophical assignment of the cause, it
  • may admit a Christian apprehension in the signality.
  • But above all he deceiveth us, when we ascribe the effects of things
  • unto evident and seeming causalities, which arise from the secret and
  • undiscerned action of himself. Thus hath he deluded many Nations in his
  • Augurial and Extispicious inventions, from casual and uncontrived
  • contingencies divining events succeeding. Which _Tuscan_ superstition
  • seizing upon _Rome_, hath since possessed all _Europe_. When _Augustus_
  • found two galls in his sacrifice, the credulity of the City concluded a
  • hope of peace with _Anthony_; and the conjunction of persons in choler
  • with each other. Because _Brutus_ and _Cassius_ met a Blackmore, and
  • _Pompey_ had on a dark or sad coloured garment at _Pharsalia_; these
  • were presages of their overthrow. Which notwithstanding are scarce
  • Rhetorical sequels; concluding Metaphors from realities, and from
  • conceptions metaphorical inferring realities again.
  • Now these divinations concerning events, being in his power to force,
  • contrive, prevent, or further, they must generally fall out conformably
  • unto his predictions. When _Graccus_ was slain, the same day the
  • Chickens refused to come out of the Coop: and _Claudius Pulcher_
  • underwent the like success, when he contemned the Tripudiary
  • Augurations: They died not because the Pullets would not feed: but
  • because the Devil foresaw their death, he contrived that abstinence in
  • them. So was there no natural dependence of the event. An unexpected way
  • of delusion, and whereby he more easily led away the incircumspection of
  • their belief. Which fallacy he might excellently have acted before the
  • death of _Saul_; for that being within his power to foretell, was not
  • beyond his ability to foreshew: and might have contrived signs thereof
  • through all the creatures, which visibly confirmed by the event, had
  • proved authentick unto those times, and advanced the Art ever after.
  • [Sidenote: _The danger and delusion that is in cures by Charms, Amulets,
  • Ligatures, Characters, etc._]
  • He deludeth us also by Philters, Ligatures, Charms, ungrounded Amulets,
  • Characters, and many superstitious ways in the cure of common diseases:
  • seconding herein the expectation of men with events of his own
  • contriving. Which while some unwilling to fall directly upon Magick,
  • impute unto the power of imagination, or the efficacy of hidden causes,
  • he obtains a bloody advantage: for thereby he begets not only a false
  • opinion, but such as leadeth the open way of destruction. In maladies
  • admitting natural reliefs, making men rely on remedies, neither of real
  • operation in themselves, nor more then seeming efficacy in his
  • concurrence. Which whensoever he pleaseth to withdraw, they stand naked
  • unto the mischief of their diseases: and revenge the contempt of the
  • medicines of the Earth which God hath created for them. And therefore
  • when neither miracle is expected, nor connection of cause unto effect
  • from natural grounds concluded; however it be sometime successful, it
  • cannot be safe to rely on such practises, and desert the known and
  • authentick provisions of God. In which rank of remedies, if nothing in
  • our knowledge or their proper power be able to relieve us, we must with
  • patience submit unto that restraint, and expect the will of the
  • Restrainer.
  • Now in these effects although he seems oft-times to imitate, yet doth he
  • concur unto their productions in a different way from that spirit which
  • sometime in natural means produceth effects above Nature. For whether he
  • worketh by causes which have relation or none unto the effect, he maketh
  • it out by secret and undiscerned ways of Nature. So when _Caius_ the
  • blind, in the reign of _Antoninus_, was commanded to pass from the right
  • side of the Altar unto the left, to lay five fingers of one hand
  • thereon, and five of the other upon his eys; although the cure succeeded
  • and all the people wondered, there was not any thing in the action which
  • did produce it, nor any thing in his power that could enable it
  • thereunto. So for the same infirmity, when _Aper_ was counselled by him
  • to make a Collyrium or ocular medicine with the blood of a white Cock
  • and Honey, and apply it to his eyes for three days: When _Julian_ for
  • his spitting of blood, was cured by Honey and Pine nuts taken from his
  • Altar: When _Lucius_ for the pain in his side, applied thereto the ashes
  • from his Altar with wine; although the remedies were somewhat rational,
  • and not without a natural vertue unto such intentions, yet need we not
  • believe that by their proper faculties they produced these effects.
  • But the effects of powers Divine flow from another operation; who either
  • proceeding by visible means or not, unto visible effects, is able to
  • conjoin them by his co-operation. And therefore those sensible ways
  • which seem of indifferent natures, are not idle ceremonies, but may be
  • causes by his command, and arise unto productions beyond their regular
  • activities. If _Nahaman_ the Syrian had washed in _Jordan_ without the
  • command of the Prophet, I believe he had been cleansed by them no more
  • then by the waters of _Damascus_. I doubt if any beside _Elisha_ had
  • cast in Salt, the waters of _Jericho_ had not been made wholsome. I know
  • that a decoction of wild gourd or Colocynthis (though somewhat
  • qualified) will not from every hand be dulcified unto aliment by an
  • addition of flower or meal. There was some natural vertue in the
  • Plaister of figs applied unto _Ezechias_; we find that gall is very
  • mundificative, and was a proper medicine to clear the eyes of _Tobit_:
  • which carrying in themselves some action of their own, they were
  • additionally promoted by that power, which can extend their natures unto
  • the production of effects beyond their created efficiencies. And thus
  • may he operate also from causes of no power unto their visible effects;
  • for he that hath determined their actions unto certain effects, hath not
  • so emptied his own, but that he can make them effectual unto any other.
  • Again, Although his delusions run highest in points of practice, whose
  • errors draw on offensive or penal enormities, yet doth he also deal in
  • points of speculation, and things whose knowledge terminates in
  • themselves. Whose cognition although it seems indifferent, and therefore
  • its aberration directly to condemn no man; yet doth he hereby
  • preparatively dispose us unto errors, and deductively deject us into
  • destructive conclusions.
  • That the Sun, Moon, and Stars are living creatures, endued with soul and
  • life, seems an innocent Error, and an harmless digression from truth;
  • yet hereby he confirmed their Idolatry, and made it more plausibly
  • embraced. For wisely mistrusting that reasonable spirits would never
  • firmly be lost in the adorement of things inanimate, and in the lowest
  • form of Nature; he begat an opinion that they were living creatures, and
  • could not decay for ever.
  • That spirits are corporeal, seems at first view a conceit derogative
  • unto himself, and such as he should rather labour to overthrow; yet
  • hereby he establisheth the Doctrine of Lustrations, Amulets and Charms,
  • as we have declared before.
  • That there are two principles of all things, one good, and another evil;
  • from the one proceeding vertue, love, light, and unity; from the other,
  • division, discord, darkness, and deformity, was the speculation of
  • _Pythagoras_, _Empedocles_, and many ancient Philosophers, and was no
  • more then _Oromasdes_ and _Arimanius_ of _Zoroaster_. Yet hereby he
  • obtained the advantage of Adoration, and as the terrible principle
  • became more dreadful then his Maker; and therefore not willing to let it
  • fall, he furthered the conceit in succeeding Ages, and raised the
  • faction of _Manes_ to maintain it.
  • That the feminine sex have no generative emission, affording no seminal
  • Principles of conception; was _Aristotles_ Opinion of old, maintained
  • still by some, and will be countenanced by him forever. For hereby he
  • disparageth the fruit of the Virgin, frustrateth the fundamental
  • Prophesie, nor can the seed of the Woman then break the head of the
  • Serpent.
  • Nor doth he only sport in speculative Errors, which are of consequent
  • impieties; but the unquietness of his malice hunts after simple lapses,
  • and such whose falsities do only condemn our understandings. Thus if
  • _Xenophanes_ will say there is another world in the Moon; If
  • _Heraclitus_ with his adherents will hold the Sun is no bigger then it
  • appeareth; If _Anaxagoras_ affirm that Snow is black; If any other
  • opinion there are no _Antipodes_, or that Stars do fall, he shall not
  • want herein the applause or advocacy of Satan. For maligning the
  • tranquility of truth, he delighteth to trouble its streams; and being a
  • professed enemy unto God (who is truth it self) he promoteth any Error
  • as derogatory to his nature; and revengeth himself in every deformity
  • from truth. If therefore at any time he speak or practise truth, it is
  • upon design, and a subtile inversion of the precept of God, to do good
  • that evil may come of it. And therefore sometime we meet with wholsome
  • doctrines from Hell; _Nosce teipsum_, the Motto of _Delphos_, was a good
  • precept in morality: That a just man is beloved of the gods, an
  • uncontrolable verity. 'Twas a good deed, though not well done, which he
  • wrought by _Vespasian_, when by the touch of his foot he restored a lame
  • man, and by the stroak of his hand another that was blind, but the
  • intention hereof drived at his own advantage; for hereby he not only
  • confirmed the opinion of his power with the people, but his integrity
  • with Princes; in whose power he knew it lay to overthrow his Oracles,
  • and silence the practice of his delusions.
  • [Sidenote: _How spirits understand one another._]
  • But of such a diffused nature, and so large is the Empire of Truth, that
  • it hath place within the walls of Hell, and the Devils themselves are
  • daily forced to practise it; not onely as being true themselves in a
  • Metaphysical verity, that is, as having their essence conformable unto
  • the Intellect of their Maker, but making use of Moral and Logical
  • verities; that is, whether in the conformity of words unto things, or
  • things unto their own conceptions, they practise truth in common among
  • themselves. For although without speech they intuitively conceive each
  • other, yet do their apprehensions proceed through realities; and they
  • conceive each other by species, which carry the true and proper notions
  • of things conceived. And so also in Moral verities, although they
  • deceive us, they lie unto each other; as well understanding that all
  • community is continued by Truth, and that of Hell cannot consist without
  • it.
  • To come yet nearer the point, and draw into a sharper angle; They do not
  • only speak and practise truth, but may be said well-wishers hereunto,
  • and in some sense do really desire its enlargement. For many things
  • which in themselves are false, they do desire were true; He cannot but
  • wish he were as he professeth, that he had the knowledge of future
  • events; were it in his power, the Jews should be in the right, and the
  • _Messias_ yet to come. Could his desires effect it, the opinion of
  • _Aristotle_ should be true, the world should have no end, but be as
  • immortal as himself. For thereby he might evade the accomplishment of
  • those afflictions, he now but gradually endureth; for comparatively unto
  • those flames, he is but yet in _Balneo_, then begins his _Ignis Rotæ_,
  • and terrible fire, which will determine his disputed subtilty, and even
  • hazard his immortality.
  • [Sidenote: _How the Devils fell._]
  • But to speak strictly, he is in these wishes no promoter of verity, but
  • if considered some ways injurious unto truth; for (besides that if
  • things were true, which now are false, it were but an exchange of their
  • natures, and things must then be false, which now are true) the setled
  • and determined order of the world would be perverted, and that course of
  • things disturbed, which seemed best unto the immutable contriver. For
  • whilest they murmur against the present disposure of things, regulating
  • determined realities unto their private optations, they rest not in
  • their established natures; but unwishing their unalterable verities, do
  • tacitely desire in them a deformity from the primitive Rule, and the
  • Idea of that mind that formed all things best. And thus he offended
  • truth even in his first attempt; For not content with his created
  • nature, and thinking it too low, to be the highest creature of God, he
  • offended the Ordainer, not only in the attempt, but in the wish and
  • simple volition thereof.
  • THE SECOND BOOK
  • Of sundry popular Tenets concerning
  • Mineral, and vegetable bodies, generally
  • held for truth; which examined, prove
  • either false, or dubious.
  • CHAPTER I
  • Of Crystal.
  • Hereof the common Opinion hath been, and still remaineth amongst us,
  • that Crystal is nothing else but Ice or Snow concreted, and by duration
  • of time, congealed beyond liquation. Of which assertion, if prescription
  • of time, and numerosity of Assertors, were a sufficient demonstration,
  • we might sit down herein, as an unquestionable truth; nor should there
  • need _ulterior_ disquisition. For few Opinions there are which have
  • found so many friends, or been so popularly received, through all
  • Professions and Ages. _Pliny_ is positive in this Opinion: _Crystallus
  • sit gelu vehementius concreto_: the same is followed by _Seneca_,
  • elegantly described by _Claudian_, not denied by _Scaliger_, some way
  • affirmed by _Albertus_, _Brasavolus_, and directly by many others. The
  • venerable Fathers of the Church have also assented hereto; As _Basil_ in
  • his _Hexameron_, _Isidore_ in his Etymologies, and not only _Austin_ a
  • Latine Father, but _Gregory_ the Great, and _Jerome_ upon occasion of
  • that term expressed in the first of _Ezekiel_.
  • [Sidenote: _That Crystal is not Ice or Snow congealed._]
  • All which notwithstanding, upon a strict enquiry, we find the matter
  • controvertible, and with much more reason denied then is as yet
  • affirmed. For though many have passed it over with easie affirmatives,
  • yet are there also many Authors that deny it, and the exactest
  • Mineralogists have rejected it. _Diodorus_ in his eleventh Book denieth
  • it, (if Crystal be there taken in its proper acception, as _Rhodiginus_
  • hath used it, and not for a Diamond, as _Salmatius_ hath expounded it)
  • for in that place he affirmeth; _Crystallum esse lapidem ex aqua pura
  • concretum, non tamen frigore sed divini caloris vi_. _Solinus_ who
  • transcribed _Pliny_, and therefore in almost all subscribed unto him,
  • hath in this point dissented from him. _Putant quidam glaciem coire, et
  • in Crystallum corporari, sed frustra._ _Mathiolus_ in his Comment upon
  • _Dioscorides_, hath with confidence rejected it. The same hath been
  • performed by _Agricola de natura fossilium_; by _Cardan_, _Bœtius de
  • Boot_, _Cæsius Bernardus_, _Sennertus_, and many more.
  • Now besides Authority against it, there may be many reasons deduced from
  • their several differences which seem to overthrow it. And first, a
  • difference is probable in their concretion. For if Crystal be a stone
  • (as in the number thereof it is confessedly received,) it is not
  • immediately concreted by the efficacy of cold, but rather by a Mineral
  • spirit, and lapidifical principles of its own, and therefore while it
  • lay _in solutis principiis_, and remained in a fluid Body, it was a
  • subject very unapt for proper conglaciation; for Mineral spirits do
  • generally resist and scarce submit thereto. So we observe that many
  • waters and springs will never freeze, and many parts in Rivers and
  • Lakes, where there are Mineral eruptions, will still persist without
  • congelations, as we also observe in _Aqua fortis_, or any Mineral
  • solution, either of Vitriol, Alum, Salt-petre, Ammoniac, or Tartar,
  • which although to some degree exhaled, and placed in cold
  • Conservatories, will Crystallize and shoot into white and glacious
  • bodies; yet is not this a congelation primarily effected by cold, but an
  • intrinsecal induration from themselves; and a retreat into their proper
  • solidities, which were absorbed by the liquor, and lost in a full
  • imbibition thereof before. And so also when wood and many other bodies
  • do putrifie, either by the Sea, other waters, or earths abounding in
  • such spirits; we do not usually ascribe their induration to cold, but
  • rather unto salinous spirits, concretive juices, and causes
  • circumjacent, which do assimilate all bodies not indisposed for their
  • impressions.
  • But Ice is water congealed by the frigidity of the air, whereby it
  • acquireth no new form, but rather a consistence or determination of its
  • diffluency, and amitteth not its essence, but condition of fluidity.
  • Neither doth there any thing properly conglaciate but water, or watery
  • humidity; for the determination of quick-silver is properly fixation,
  • that of milk coagulation, and that of oyl and unctious bodies, only
  • incrassation; And therefore _Aristotle_ makes a trial of the fertility
  • of humane seed, from the experiment of congelation; for that (saith he)
  • which is not watery and improlifical will not conglaciate; which perhaps
  • must not be taken strictly, but in the germ and spirited particles: For
  • Eggs I observe will freeze, in the albuginous part thereof. And upon
  • this ground _Paracelsus_ in his Archidoxis, extracteth the magistery of
  • wine; after four moneths digestion in horse-dung, exposing it unto the
  • extremity of cold; whereby the aqueous parts will freeze, but the
  • Spirit retire and be found congealed in the Center.
  • [Sidenote: _How to make Ice at any time of the year._]
  • But whether this congelation be simply made by cold, or also by
  • co-operation of any nitrous coagulum, or spirit of Salt the principle of
  • concretion; whereby we observe that ice may be made with Salt and Snow
  • by the fire side; as is also observable from Ice made by Saltpetre and
  • water, duly mixed and strongly agitated at any time of the year, were a
  • very considerable enquiry. For thereby we might clear the generation of
  • Snow, Hail, and hoary Frosts, the piercing qualities of some winds, the
  • coldness of Caverns, and some Cells. We might more sensibly conceive how
  • Salt-petre fixeth the flying spirits of Minerals in Chymical
  • Preparations, and how by this congealing quality it becomes an useful
  • medicine in Fevers.
  • Again, The difference of their concretion is collectible from their
  • dissolution; which being many ways performable in Ice, is few ways
  • effected in Crystal. Now the causes of liquation are contrary to those
  • of concretion; and as the Atoms and indivisible parcels are united, so
  • are they in an opposite way disjoyned. That which is concreted by
  • exsiccation or expression of humidity, will be resolved by humectation,
  • as Earth, Dirt, and Clay; that which is coagulated by a fiery siccity,
  • will suffer colliquation from an aqueous humidity, as Salt and Sugar,
  • which are easily dissoluble in water, but not without difficulty in oyl,
  • and well rectified spirits of Wine. That which is concreted by cold,
  • will dissolve by a moist heat, if it consist of watery parts, as Gums,
  • Arabick, Tragacanth, Ammoniac and others; in an airy heat or oyl, as all
  • resinous bodies, Turpentine, Pitch, and Frankincense; in both, as gummy
  • resinous bodies, Mastick, Camphire and Storax; in neither, as neutrals
  • and bodies anomalous hereto, as Bdellium, Myrrhe, and others. Some by a
  • violent dry heat, as Metals; which although corrodible by waters, yet
  • will they not suffer a liquation from the powerfullest heat,
  • communicable unto that element. Some will dissolve by this heat although
  • their ingredients be earthy, as Glass, whose materials are fine Sand,
  • and the ashes of Chali or Fearn; [SN: _The original ingredients of
  • Glass._] and so will Salt run with fire, although it be concreted by
  • heat. And this way may be effected a liquation in Crystal, but not
  • without some difficulty; that is, calcination or reducing it by Art into
  • a subtle powder; by which way and a vitreous commixture, Glasses are
  • sometime made hereof, and it becomes the chiefest ground for artificial
  • and factitious gemms. But the same way of solution is common also unto
  • many Stones; and not onely Beryls and Cornelians, but Flints and
  • Pebbles, are subject unto fusion, and will run like Glass in fire.
  • But Ice will dissolve in any way of heat, for it will dissolve with
  • fire, it will colliquate in water, or warm oyl; nor doth it only submit
  • unto an actual heat, but not endure the potential calidity of many
  • waters. For it will presently dissolve in cold _Aqua fortis_, sp. of
  • Vitriol, Salt, or Tartar, nor will it long continue its fixation in
  • spirits of Wine, as may be observed in Ice injected therein.
  • Again, The concretion of Ice will not endure a dry attrition without
  • liquation; for if it be rubbed long with a cloth, it melteth. But
  • Crystal will calefie unto electricity, that is, a power to attract
  • straws or light bodies, and convert the needle freely placed. Which is a
  • declarement of very different parts, wherein we shall not inlarge, as
  • having discoursed concerning such bodies in the Chap. of Electricks.
  • They are differenced by supernatation or floating upon water; for
  • Crystal will sink in water, as carrying in its own bulk a greater
  • ponderosity then the space in any water it doth occupy; and will
  • therefore only swim in molten Metal and Quicksilver. But Ice will swim
  • in water of what thinness soever; and though it sink in oyl, will float
  • in spirits of Wine or _Aqua vitæ_. And therefore it may swim in water,
  • not only as being water it self, and in its proper place, but perhaps as
  • weighing somewhat less then the water it possesseth. And therefore as it
  • will not sink unto the bottom, so will it neither float above like
  • lighter bodies, but being near in weight, lie superficially or almost
  • horizontally unto it. And therefore also an Ice or congelation of Salt
  • or Sugar, although it descend not unto the bottom, yet will it abate,
  • and decline below the surface in thin water, but very sensibly in
  • spirits of Wine. For Ice although it seemeth as transparent and compact
  • as Crystal, yet is it short in either; for its atoms are not concreted
  • into continuity, which doth diminish its translucency; it is also full
  • of spumes and bubbles, which may abate its gravity. And therefore waters
  • frozen in Pans, and open Glasses, after their dissolution do commonly
  • leave a froth and spume upon them, which are caused by the airy parts
  • diffused in the congealable mixture which uniting themselves and finding
  • no passage at the surface, do elevate the mass, and make the liquor take
  • up a greater place then before: as may be observed in Glasses filled
  • with water, which being frozen, will seem to swell above the brim. So
  • that if in this condensation any one affirmeth there is also some
  • rarefaction, experience may assert it.
  • They are distinguished in substance of parts and the accidents thereof,
  • that is, in colour and figure; for Ice is a similary body, and
  • homogeneous concretion, whose material is properly water, and but
  • accidentally exceeding the simplicity of that element. But the body of
  • Crystal is mixed; its ingredients many, and sensibly containeth those
  • principles into which mixt bodies are reduced. For beside the spirit and
  • mercurial principle it containeth a sulphur or inflamable part, and that
  • in no small quantity; for besides its Electrick attraction, which is
  • made by a sulphureous effluvium, it will strike fire upon percussion
  • like many other stones, and upon collision with Steel actively send
  • forth its sparks, not much inferiourly unto a flint. Now such bodies as
  • strike fire have sulphureous or ignitible parts within them, and those
  • strike best, which abound most in them. For these scintillations are not
  • the accension of the air, upon the collision of two hard bodies, but
  • rather the inflamable effluencies or vitrified sparks discharged from
  • the bodies collided. For Diamonds, Marbles, Heliotropes and Agaths,
  • though hard bodies, will not readily strike fire with a steel, much less
  • with one another: Nor a Flint so readily with a Steel, if they both be
  • very wet, for then the sparks are sometimes quenched in their eruption.
  • [Sidenote: _The Physical causes of liquation or melting of Mettals,
  • etc._]
  • It containeth also a salt, and that in some plenty, which may occasion
  • its fragility, as is also observable in Coral. This by the Art of
  • Chymistry is separable, unto the operations whereof it is liable, with
  • other concretions, as calcination, reverberation, sublimation,
  • distillation: And in the preparation of Crystal, _Paracelsus_ [SN: _de
  • Præparationibus._] hath made a rule for that of Gemms. Briefly, it
  • consisteth of parts so far from an Icie dissolution, that powerful
  • menstruums are made for its emollition; whereby it may receive the
  • tincture of Minerals, and so resemble Gemms, as _Boetius_ hath declared
  • in the distillation of Urine; spirits of Wine and Turpentine; and is
  • not only triturable, and reducible into powder, by contrition, but will
  • subsist in a violent fire, and endure a vitrification. Whereby are
  • testified its earthly and fixed parts. For vitrification is the last
  • work of fire, and a fusion of the Salt and Earth, which are the fixed
  • elements of the composition, wherein the fusible Salt draws the Earth
  • and infusible part into one continuum, and therefore ashes will not run
  • from whence the Salt is drawn, as bone ashes prepared for the Test of
  • Metals. Common fusion in Metals is also made by a violent heat, acting
  • upon the volatile and fixed, the dry and humid parts of those bodies;
  • which notwithstanding are so united, that upon attenuation from heat,
  • the humid parts will not fly away, but draw the fixed ones into fluor
  • with them. Ordinary liquation in wax and oily bodies is made by a
  • gentler heat, where the oyl and salt, the fixed and fluid principles
  • will not easily separate. All which, whether by vitrification, fusion or
  • liquation, being forced into fluent consistencies, do naturally regress
  • into their former solidities. Whereas the melting of Ice is a simple
  • resolution, or return from solid to fluid parts, wherein it naturally
  • resteth.
  • As for colour, although Crystal in his pellucid body seems to have none
  • at all, yet in its reduction into powder, it hath a vail and shadow of
  • blew; and in its courser pieces, is of a sadder hue then the powder of
  • Venice glass; and this complexion it will maintain although it long
  • endure the fire. Which notwithstanding needs not move us unto wonder;
  • for vitrified and pellucid bodies, are of a clearer complexion in their
  • continuities, then in their powders and Atomical divisions. So _Stibium_
  • or glass of _Antimony_, appears somewhat red in glass, but in its
  • powder yellow; so painted glass of a sanguine red will not ascend in
  • powder above a murrey.
  • [Sidenote: _In Stone-pits and chalk-mines. Which seemeth to be Echinites
  • decima Aldrovandi._ Musæi Metallici, lib. 4. _Rather Echinometrites, as
  • best resembling the Echinometra found commonly on our Sea-shore._]
  • As for the figure of Crystal (which is very strange, and forced _Pliny_
  • to despair of resolution) it is for the most part hexagonal or six
  • cornered; being built upon a confused matter, from whence as it were
  • from a root angular figures arise, even as in the Amethyst and Basaltes.
  • Which regular figuration hath made some opinion, it hath not its
  • determination from circumscription, or as conforming unto contiguities,
  • but rather from a seminal root, and formative principle of its own, even
  • as we observe in several other concretions. So the stones which are
  • sometime found in the gall of a man, are most triangular and pyramidal,
  • although the figure of that part seems not to co-operate thereto. So the
  • _Asteria_ or _lapis stellaris_; hath on it the figure of a Star, so
  • _Lapis Judaicus_ hath circular lines in length all down its body, and
  • equidistant, as though they had been turned by Art. So that we call a
  • Fayrie stone, and is often found in _gravel pits_ amongst us, being of
  • an hemispherical figure, hath five double lines rising from the center
  • of its basis, which if no accretion distract them, do commonly concur,
  • and meet in the pole thereof. The figures are regular in many other
  • stones, as in the Belemnites, _Lapis Anguinus_, _Cornu Ammonis_, and
  • many more; as by those which have not the experience hereof may be
  • observed in their figures expressed by Mineralogists. But Ice receiveth
  • its figure according unto the surface wherein it concreteth, or the
  • circumambiency which conformeth it. So it is plain upon the surface of
  • water, but round in Hayl (which is also a glaciation,) and figured in
  • its guttulous descent from the air, and so growing greater or lesser
  • according unto the accretion or pluvious aggelation about the mother and
  • fundamental Atomes thereof; which seems to be some feathery particle of
  • Snow; although Snow it self be sexangular, or at least of a starry and
  • many-pointed figure.
  • They are also differenced in the places of their generation; for though
  • Crystal be found in cold countries, and where Ice remaineth long, and
  • the air exceedeth in cold, yet is it also found in regions, where Ice is
  • seldom seen or soon dissolved; as _Pliny_ and _Agricola_ relate of
  • _Cyprus_, _Caramania_ and an Island in the Red sea; It hath been also
  • found in the veins of Minerals, sometimes agglutinated unto lead,
  • sometimes in Rocks, opacous stones, and the marble face of _Octavius_
  • Duke of _Parma_. [SN: _Wherein the Sculptor found a piece of pure
  • Crystal._] It hath also constant veins; as beside others, that of mount
  • _Salvino_ about the Territory of _Bergamo_; from whence if part be
  • taken, in no long tract of time out of the same place, as from its
  • mineral matrix, others are observed to arise. Which made the learned
  • _Cerautus_ to conclude, _Videant hi an sit glacies, an vero corpus
  • fossile_. [SN: _Mus. Calceolar._] It is also found in the veins of
  • Minerals, in rocks, and sometime in common earth. But as for Ice, it
  • will not readily concrete but in the approachment of the air, as we have
  • made trial in glasses of water, covered an inch with oyl, which will not
  • easily freeze in hard frosts of our climate. For water commonly
  • concreteth first in its surface, and so conglaciates downward; and so
  • will it do although it be exposed in the coldest metal of lead, which
  • well accordeth with that expression of _Job_, _The waters are hid as
  • with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen_. [SN: _Chap. 38._] But
  • whether water which hath been boiled or heated, doth sooner receive this
  • congelation, as commonly is delivered, we rest in the experiment of
  • _Cabeus_, who hath rejected the same in his excellent discourse of
  • Meteors.
  • They have contrary qualities elemental, and uses medicinal; for Ice is
  • cold and moist, of the quality of water; but Crystal is cold and dry,
  • according to the condition of earth. The use of Ice is condemned by most
  • Physicians, that of Crystal commended by many. For although
  • _Dioscorides_ and _Galen_ have left no mention thereof, yet hath
  • _Mathiolus_, _Agricola_, and many commended it in dysenteries and
  • fluxes; all for the increase of milk, most Chymists for the Stone, and
  • some, as _Brassavolus_ and _Bœtius_, as an antidote against poyson.
  • Which occult and specifical operations are not expectable from Ice; for
  • being but water congealed, it can never make good such qualities; nor
  • will it reasonably admit of secret proprieties, which are the affections
  • of forms, and compositions at distance from their elements.
  • [Sidenote: _What Crystal is._]
  • Having thus declared what Crystal is not, it may afford some
  • satisfaction to manifest what it is. To deliver therefore what with the
  • judgement of approved Authors, and best reason consisteth, It is a
  • Mineral body in the difference of stones, and reduced by some unto that
  • subdivision, which comprehendeth gemms, transparent and resembling Glass
  • or Ice, made of a lentous percolation of earth, drawn from the most pure
  • and limpid juice thereof, owing unto the coldness of the earth some
  • concurrence or coadjuvancy, but not immediate determination and
  • efficiency, which are wrought by the hand of its concretive spirit, the
  • seeds of petrification and Gorgon of it self. As sensible Philosophers
  • conceive of the generation of Diamonds, Iris, Berils. Not making them of
  • frozen icecles, or from meer aqueous and glaciable substances,
  • condensing them by frosts into solidities, vainly to be expected even
  • from Polary congelations: but from thin and finest earths, so well
  • contempered and resolved, that transparency is not hindred; and
  • containing lapidifical spirits, able to make good their solidities
  • against the opposition and activity of outward contraries, and so leave
  • a sensible difference between the bonds of glaciation, which in the
  • mountains of Ice about the Northern Seas, are easily dissolved by
  • ordinary heat of the Sun, and between the finer ligatures of
  • petrification, whereby not only the harder concretions of Diamonds and
  • Saphirs, but the softer veins of Crystal remain indissolvable in
  • scorching Territories, and the _Negro_ land of Congor.
  • And therefore I fear we commonly consider subterranities, not in
  • contemplations sufficiently respective unto the Creation. For though
  • _Moses_ have left no mention of Minerals, nor made any other description
  • then sutes unto the apparent and visible Creation, yet is there
  • unquestionably, a very large Classis of Creatures in the Earth, far
  • above the condition of elementarity. And although not in a distinct and
  • indisputable way of vivency, or answering in all points the properties
  • or affections of Plants, yet in inferiour and descending constitutions,
  • they do like these contain specifical distinctions, and are determined
  • by seminalities, that is, created and defined seeds committed unto the
  • Earth from the beginning. Wherein although they attain not the
  • indubitable requisites of Animation, yet have they a near affinity
  • thereto. And though we want a proper name and expressive appellation,
  • yet are they not to be closed up in the general name of concretions; or
  • lightly passed over as only Elementary and Subterraneous mixtions.
  • [Sidenote: _Exact continuity of parts a cause of transparency in things,
  • and why._]
  • The principle and most gemmary affection is its Tralucency: as for
  • irradiancy or sparkling which is found in many gemms, it is not
  • discoverable in this, for it cometh short of their compactness and
  • durity: and therefore requireth not the Emery, as the Saphir, Granate,
  • and Topaz, but will receive impression from Steel, in a manner like the
  • Turchois. As for its diaphanity or perspicuity, it enjoyeth that most
  • eminently; and the reason thereof is its continuity; as having its
  • earthy and salinous parts so exactly resolved, that its body is left
  • imporous and not discreted by atomical terminations. For, that
  • continuity of parts is the cause of perspicuity, it is made perspicuous
  • by two ways of experiment. That is, either in effecting transparency in
  • those bodies which were not so before, or at least far short of the
  • additional degree: So Snow becomes transparent upon liquation, so Horns
  • and Bodies resolvable into continued parts or gelly. The like is
  • observable in oyled paper, wherein the interstitial divisions being
  • continuated by the accession of oyl, it becometh more transparent, and
  • admits the visible rayes with less umbrosity. Or else the same is
  • effected by rendring those bodies opacous, which were before pellucid
  • and perspicuous.
  • So Glass which was before diaphanous, being by powder reduced into
  • multiplicity of superficies, becomes an opacous body, and will not
  • transmit the light. So it is in Crystal powdered, and so it is also
  • before; for if it be made hot in a crucible, and presently projected
  • upon water, it will grow dim, and abate its diaphanity; for the water
  • entering the body, begets a division of parts, and a termination of
  • Atoms united before unto continuity.
  • The ground of this Opinion might be, first the conclusions of some men
  • from experience; for as much as Crystal is found sometimes in rocks, and
  • in some places not much unlike the stirious or stillicidious
  • dependencies of Ice. Which notwithstanding may happen either in places
  • which have been forsaken or left bare by the earth, or may be
  • petrifications, or Mineral indurations, like other gemms, proceeding
  • from percolations of the earth disposed unto such concretions.
  • The second and most common ground is from the name _Crystallus_, whereby
  • in Greek both Ice and Crystal are expressed; which many not duly
  • considering, have from their community of name, conceived a community of
  • nature; and what was ascribed unto the one, not unfitly appliable unto
  • the other. But this is a fallacy of Æquivocation, from a society in name
  • inferring an Identity in nature. By this fallacy was he deceived that
  • drank _Aqua fortis_ for strong water. By this are they deluded, who
  • conceive _sperma Cœti_ which is found about the head, to be the spawn
  • of the Whale: Or take _sanguis draconis_ (which is the gumme of a tree,)
  • to be the blood of a Dragon. By the same Logick we may infer, the
  • Crystalline humour of the eye, or rather the Crystalline heaven above,
  • to be of the substance of Crystal here below; Or that God sendeth down
  • Crystal, because it is delivered in the vulgar translation, Psal. 47.
  • _Mittit Crystallum suum sicut Buccellas_. [SN: _Agreement in name._]
  • Which translation although it literally express the Septuagint; yet is
  • there no more meant thereby, than what our translation in plain English
  • expresseth; that is, he casteth forth his Ice like morsels, or what
  • _Tremellius_ and _Junius_ as clearly deliver, _Deficit gelu suum sicut
  • frusta, coram frigore ejus quis consistet?_ which proper and latine
  • expressions, had they been observed in ancient translations, elder
  • Expositors had not been misguided by the Synonomy; nor had they
  • afforded occasion unto _Austin_, the Gloss, _Lyranus_, and many others,
  • to have taken up the common conceit, and spoke of this Text conformably
  • unto the opinion rejected.
  • CHAPTER II
  • Concerning the Loadstone.
  • Of things particularly spoken thereof, evidently or probably true.
  • Of things generally believed, or particularly delivered, manifestly
  • or probably false. In the first of the Magnetical vertue of the
  • Earth, of the four motions of the stone, that is, its Verticity or
  • Direction, its Attraction or Coition, its Declination, its
  • Variation, and also of its Antiquity. In the second a rejection of
  • sundry opinions and relations thereof, Natural, Medical,
  • Historical, Magical.
  • [Sidenote: _How the earth is a Magnetical body._]
  • And first we conceive the earth to be a Magnetical body. A Magnetical
  • body, we term not onely that which hath a power attractive, but that
  • which seated in a convenient medium, naturally disposeth it self to one
  • invariable and fixed situation. And such a Magnetical vertue we conceive
  • to be in the Globe of the Earth, whereby as unto its natural points and
  • proper terms, it disposeth it self unto the poles; being so framed,
  • constituted, and ordered unto these points, that those parts which are
  • now at the poles, would not naturally abide under the Æquator, nor
  • _Greenland_ remain in the place of _Magellanica_. And if the whole earth
  • were violently removed, yet would it not foregoe its primitive points,
  • nor pitch in the East or West, but return unto its polary position
  • again. For though by compactness or gravity it may acquire the lowest
  • place, and become the center of the universe, yet that it makes good
  • that point, not varying at all by the accession of bodies upon, or
  • secession thereof from its surface, perturbing the equilibration of
  • either Hemisphere (whereby the altitude of the stars might vary) or that
  • it strictly maintains the North and Southern points; that neither upon
  • the motions of the heavens, air, and winds without, large eruptions and
  • division of parts within, its polary parts should never incline or veer
  • unto the Equator (whereby the latitude of places should also vary) it
  • cannot so well be salved from gravity as a Magnetical verticity. [SN:
  • _The foundation of the Earths stability._] This is probably, that
  • foundation the wisdom of the Creator hath laid unto the earth; in this
  • sense we may more nearly apprehend, and sensibly make out the
  • expressions of holy Scripture [SN: _Psal. 93._], as _Firmavit orbem
  • terræ qui non commovebitur_, he hath made the round world so sure that
  • it cannot be moved: as when it is said by _Job, Extendit Aquilonem super
  • vacuo, &c._ [SN: _Job 38._] He stretcheth forth the North upon the empty
  • place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing. And this is the most probable
  • answer unto that great question. Whereupon are the foundations of the
  • Earth fastened, or who laid the corner stone thereof? Had they been
  • acquainted with this principle, _Anaxagoras_, _Socrates_, and
  • _Democritus_, had better made out the ground of this stability;
  • _Xenophanes_ had not been fain to say the Earth had no bottom; and
  • _Thales Milesius_ to make it swim in water.
  • [Sidenote: _The magnetical vertue of the Earth diffused_ extra se _and
  • communicated to bodies adjacent._]
  • Nor is the vigour of this great body included only in its self, or
  • circumferenced by its surface, but diffused at indeterminate distances
  • through the air, water, and all bodies circumjacent. Exciting and
  • impregnating Magnetical bodies within its surface or without it, and
  • performing in a secret and invisible way what we evidently behold
  • effected by the Loadstone. For these effluxions penetrate all bodies,
  • and like the species of visible objects are ever ready in the medium,
  • and lay hold on all bodies proportionate or capable of their action,
  • those bodies likewise being of a congenerous nature, do readily receive
  • the impressions of their motor; and if not fettered by their gravity,
  • conform themselves to situations, wherein they best unite unto their
  • Animator. And this will sufficiently appear from the observations that
  • are to follow, which can no better way be made out then by this we speak
  • of, the Magnetical vigour of the Earth. Now whether these effluviums do
  • flye by striated Atoms and winding particles as _Renatus des Cartes_
  • conceiveth; or glide by streams attracted from either Pole and
  • Hemisphere of the Earth unto the Equator, as Sir _Kenelm Digby_
  • excellently declareth, it takes not away this vertue of the Earth, but
  • more distinctly sets down the gests and progress thereof, and are
  • conceits of eminent use to salve Magnetical Phenomena's. [SN:
  • _Apparencies observations._] And as in Astronomy those hypotheses though
  • never so strange are best esteemed which best do salve apparencies; so
  • surely in Philosophy those principles (though seeming monstrous) may
  • with advantage be embraced, which best confirm experiment, and afford
  • the readiest reason of observation.[SN: _The doctrine of effluxions
  • acknowledged by the Author._] And truly the doctrine of effluxions,
  • their penetrating natures, their invisible paths, and insuspected
  • effects, are very considerable; for besides this Magnetical one of the
  • Earth, several effusions there may be from divers other bodies, which
  • invisibly act their parts at any time, and perhaps through any medium; a
  • part of Philosophy but yet in discovery, and will, I fear, prove the
  • last leaf to be turned over in the Book of Nature.
  • [Sidenote: _Point to the North._]
  • [Sidenote: _Point to the South._]
  • First, Therefore it is true, and confirmable by every experiment, that
  • Steel and good Iron never excited by the Loadstone, discover in
  • themselves a verticity; that is, a directive or polary faculty, whereby,
  • conveniently placed, they do Septentrionate at one extream, and
  • Australize at another. This is manifestable in long and thin plates of
  • Steel perforated in the middle and equilibrated; or by an easier way in
  • long wires equiponderate with untwisted Silk and soft Wax; for in this
  • manner pendulous, they will conform themselves Meridionally, directing
  • one extream unto the North, another to the South. The same is also
  • manifest in Steel wires thrust through little sphears or globes of Cork
  • and floated on the water, or in naked Needles gently let fall thereon;
  • for so disposed they will not rest, until they have found out the
  • Meridian, and as near as they can lye parallel unto the Axis of the
  • Earth: Sometimes the eye, sometimes the point Northward in divers
  • Needles, but the same point always in most: Conforming themselves unto
  • the whole Earth, in the same manner as they do unto every Loadstone. For
  • if a Needle untoucht he hanged above a Loadstone, it will convert into a
  • parallel position thereto; for in this situation it can best receive its
  • verticity and be excited proportionably at both extreams. Now this
  • direction proceeds not primitively from themselves, but is derivative
  • and contracted from the Magnetical effluxions of the Earth; which they
  • have winded in their hammering and formation; or else by long
  • continuance in one position, as we shall declare hereafter.
  • It is likewise true what is delivered of Irons heated in the fire, that
  • they contract a verticity in their refrigeration; for heated red hot and
  • cooled in the Meridian from North to South, they presently contract a
  • polary power, and being poised in air or water, convert that part unto
  • the North which respected that point in its refrigeration, so that if
  • they had no sensible verticity before, it may be acquired by this way;
  • or if they had any, it might be exchanged by contrary position in the
  • cooling. For by the fire they omit not onely many drossie and scorious
  • parts, but whatsoever they had received either from the Earth or
  • Loadstone; and so being naked and despoiled of all verticity, the
  • Magnetical Atomes invade their bodies with more effect and agility.
  • Neither is it only true what _Gilbertus_ first observed, that Irons
  • refrigerated North and South acquire a Directive faculty; but if they be
  • cooled upright and perpendicularly, they will also obtain the same. That
  • part which is cooled toward the North on this side the Equator,
  • converting it self unto the North, and attracting the South point of the
  • Needle: the other and highest extream respecting the South, and
  • attracting the Northern, according unto Laws Magnetical: For (what must
  • be observed) contrary Poles or faces attract each other, as the North
  • the South; and the like decline each other, as the North the North. Now
  • on this side of the Equator, that extream which is next the Earth is
  • animated unto the North, and the contrary unto the South; so that in
  • coition it applies it self quite oppositely, the coition or attraction
  • being contrary to the Verticity or Direction. Contrary, If we speak
  • according unto common use, yet alike, if we conceive the vertue of the
  • North Pole to diffuse it self and open at the South, and the South at
  • the North again.
  • [Sidenote: _Some conceive that the figure of the Tree or Spread-eagle in
  • the root of Brake or Fern stands North and South, but not truly._]
  • This polarity from refrigeration upon extremity and in defect of a
  • Loadstone might serve to invigorate and touch a Needle any where; and
  • this, allowing variation, is also the readiest way at any season to
  • discover the North or South; and surely far more certain then what is
  • affirmed of the grains and circles in trees, or the figure in the root
  • of Fern. For if we erect a red hot wire until it cool, then hang it up
  • with wax and untwisted Silk, where the lower end and that which cooled
  • next the earth doth rest, that is the Northern point; and this we affirm
  • will still be true whether it be cooled in the air or extinguished in
  • water, oyl of Vitriol, _Aqua fortis_, or Quicksilver. And this is also
  • evidenced in culinary utensils and Irons that often feel the force of
  • fire, as Tongs, Fire-shovels, Prongs, and Andirons; all which acquire a
  • Magnetical and polary condition, and being suspended, convert their
  • lower extreams unto the North; with the same attracting the Southern
  • point of the Needle. For easier experiment, if we place a Needle touched
  • at the foot of Tongs or Andirons, it will obvert or turn aside its
  • lillie or North point, and conform its cuspis or South extream unto the
  • Andiron. The like verticity though more obscurely is also contracted by
  • Bricks and Tiles, as we have made trial in some taken out of the backs
  • of chimneys. Now to contract this Direction, there needs not a total
  • ignition, nor is it necessary the Irons should be red hot all over. For
  • if a wire be heated only at one end, according as that end is cooled
  • upward or downward, it respectively acquires a verticity, as we have
  • declared in wires totally candent. Nor is it absolutely requisite they
  • should be cooled perpendicularly, or strictly lie in the Meridian; for
  • whether they be refrigerated inclinatorily or somewhat Æquinoxially,
  • that is toward the Eastern or Western points; though in a lesser degree,
  • they discover some verticity.
  • Nor is this onely true in Irons, but in the Loadstone it self. For if a
  • Loadstone be made red hot, it loseth the magnetical vigour it had before
  • in it self, and acquires another from the Earth in its refrigeration;
  • for that part which cooleth toward the Earth will acquire the respect of
  • the North, and attract the Southern point or cuspis of the Needle. The
  • experiment hereof we made in a Loadstone of a parallelogram or long
  • square figure; wherein onely inverting the extreams, as it came out of
  • the fire, we altered the poles or faces thereof at pleasure.
  • It is also true what is delivered of the Direction and coition of Irons,
  • that they contract a verticity by long and continued position: that is,
  • not onely being placed from North to South, and lying in the Meridian,
  • but respecting the Zenith and perpendicular unto the Center of the
  • Earth; as is manifest in bars of windows, casements, hinges and the
  • like. For if we present the Needle unto their lower extreams, it wheels
  • about and turns its Southern point unto them. The same condition in long
  • time do Bricks contract which are placed in walls, and therefore it may
  • be a fallible way to find out the Meridian by placing the Needle on a
  • wall; for some Bricks therein by a long and continued position, are
  • often magnetically enabled to distract the polarity of the Needle. And
  • therefore those Irons which are said to have been converted into
  • Loadstones; whether they were real conversions, or onely attractive
  • augmentations, might be much promoted by this position: as the Iron
  • cross of an hundred weight upon the Church of St. _John_ in _Ariminum_,
  • or that Loadston'd Iron of _Cæsar Moderatus_, set down by _Aldrovandus_.
  • [SN: _De miner. l. 1._]
  • Lastly, Irons do manifest a verticity not only upon refrigeration and
  • constant situation, but (what is wonderful and advanceth the magnetical
  • Hypothesis) they evidence the same by meer position according as they
  • are inverted, and their extreams disposed respectively unto the Earth.
  • For if an Iron or Steel not firmly excited, be held perpendicularly or
  • inclinatorily unto the Needle, the lower end thereof will attract the
  • _cuspis_ or Southern point; but if the same extream be inverted and held
  • under the Needle, it will then attract the lilly or Northern point; for
  • by inversion it changeth its direction acquired before, and receiveth a
  • new and Southern polarity from the Earth, as being the upper extream.
  • Now if an Iron be touched before, it varieth not in this manner; for
  • then it admits not this magnetical impression, as being already informed
  • by the Loadstone, and polarily determined by its preaction.
  • And from these grounds may we best determine why the Northern Pole of
  • the Loadstone attracteth a greater weight than the Southern on this side
  • the Æquator; why the stone is best preserved in a natural and polary
  • situation; and why as _Gilbertus_ observeth, it respecteth that Pole out
  • of the Earth, which it regarded in its Mineral bed and subterraneous
  • position.
  • It is likewise true and wonderful what is delivered of the Inclination
  • or Declination of the Loadstone; that is, the descent of the Needle
  • below the plain of the Horizon. For long Needles which stood before upon
  • their _axis_, _parallel_ unto the Horizon, being vigorously excited,
  • incline and bend downward, depressing the North extream below the
  • Horizon. That is the North on this, the South on the other side of the
  • Equator; and at the very Line or middle circle stand without deflexion.
  • And this is evidenced not onely from observations of the Needle in
  • several parts of the earth, but sundry experiments in any part thereof,
  • as in a long Steel wire, equilibrated or evenly ballanced in the air;
  • for excited by a vigorous Loadstone it will somewhat depress its
  • animated extream, and intersect the horizontal circumference. It is also
  • manifest in a Needle pierced through a Globe of Cork so cut away and
  • pared by degrees, that it will swim under water, yet sink not unto the
  • bottom, which may be well effected; for if the Cork be a thought too
  • light to sink under the surface, the body of the water may be attenuated
  • with spirits of wine; if too heavy, it may be incrassated with salt; and
  • if by chance too much be added, it may again be thinned by a
  • proportionable addition of fresh water. If then the Needle be taken out,
  • actively touched and put in again, it will depress and bow down its
  • Northern head toward the bottom, and advance its Southern extremity
  • toward the brim. This way invented by _Gilbertus_ may seem of
  • difficulty; the same with less labour may be observed in a needled
  • sphere of Cork equally contiguous unto the surface of the water; for if
  • the Needle be not exactly equiponderant, that end which is a thought too
  • light, if touched becometh even; that Needle also which will but just
  • swim under the water, if forcibly touched will sink deeper, and sometime
  • unto the bottom. If likewise that inclinatory vertue be destroyed by a
  • touch from the contrary Pole, that end which before was elevated will
  • then decline, and this perhaps might be observed in some scales exactly
  • ballanced, and in such Needles which for their bulk can hardly be
  • supported by the water. For if they be powerfully excited and equally
  • let fall, they commonly sink down and break the water at that extream
  • whereat they were septentrionally excited: and by this way it is
  • conceived there may be some fraud in the weighing of precious
  • commodities, and such as carry a value in quarter-grains; by placing a
  • powerful Loadstone above or below, according as we intend to depress or
  • elevate one extream.
  • Now if these Magnetical emissions be onely qualities, and the gravity of
  • bodies incline them onely unto the earth; surely that which alone moveth
  • other bodies to descent, carrieth not the stroak in this, but rather the
  • Magnetical alliciency of the Earth; unto which with alacrity it applieth
  • it self, and in the very same way unto the whole Earth, as it doth unto
  • a single Loadstone. For if an untouched Needle be at a distance
  • suspended over a Loadstone, it will not hang parallel, but decline at
  • the North extream, and at that part will first salute its Director.
  • Again, what is also wonderful, this inclination is not invariable; for
  • just under the line the Needle lieth parallel with the Horizon, but
  • sailing North or South it beginneth to incline, and encreaseth according
  • as it approacheth unto either Pole; and would at last endeavour to erect
  • it self. And this is no more then what it doth upon the Loadstone, and
  • that more plainly upon the Terrella or spherical magnet Cosmographically
  • set out with circles of the Globe. For at the Equator thereof, the
  • Needle will stand rectangularly; but approaching Northward toward the
  • Tropick it will regard the stone obliquely, and when it attaineth the
  • Pole, directly; and if its bulk be no impediment, erect it self and
  • stand perpendicularly thereon. And therefore upon strict observation of
  • this inclination in several latitudes and due records preserved,
  • instruments are made whereby without the help of Sun or Star, the
  • latitude of the place may be discovered; and yet it appears the
  • observations of men have not as yet been so just and equal as is
  • desirable; for of those Tables of declination which I have perused,
  • there are not any two that punctually agree; though some have been
  • thought exactly calculated, especially that which _Ridley_ received from
  • Mr. _Brigs_, in our time Geometry Professor in _Oxford_.
  • [Sidenote: _What the variation of the Compass is._]
  • It is also probable what is delivered concerning the variation of the
  • Compass that is the cause and ground thereof, for the manner as being
  • confirmed by observation we shall not at all dispute. The variation of
  • the Compass is an Arch of the Horizon intercepted between the true and
  • Magnetical Meridian; or more plainly, a deflexion and siding East and
  • West from the true Meridian. The true Meridian is a major Circle passing
  • through the Poles of the World, and the Zenith or Vertex of any place,
  • exactly dividing the East from the West. Now on this line the Needle
  • exactly lieth not, but diverts and varieth its point, that is, the North
  • point on this side the Equator, the South on the other; sometimes on the
  • East, sometime toward the West, and in some few places varieth not at
  • all. First, therefore it is observed that betwixt the Shore of
  • _Ireland_, _France_, _Spain_, _Guiny_, and the _Azores_, the North point
  • varieth toward the East, and that in some variety; at _London_ it
  • varieth eleven degrees, at _Antwerp_ nine, at _Rome_ but five: at some
  • parts of the _Azores_ it deflecteth not, but lieth in the true Meridian;
  • on the other side of the _Azores_, and this side of the Equator, the
  • North point of the Needle wheeleth to the West; so that in the latitude
  • of 36 near the shore, the variation is about eleven degrees; but on the
  • other side the Equator, it is quite otherwise: for about _Capio Frio_ in
  • _Brasilia_, the South point varieth twelve degrees unto the West, and
  • about the mouth of the Straits of _Magellan_ five or six; but elongating
  • from the coast of _Brasilia_ toward the shore of _Africa_ it varieth
  • Eastward, and arriving at _Capo de las Agullas_, it resteth in the
  • Meridian, and looketh neither way.
  • [Sidenote: _The cause of the variation of the Compass._]
  • Now the cause of this variation was thought by _Gilbertus_ to be the
  • inequality of the Earth, variously disposed, and indifferently
  • intermixed with the Sea: withal the different disposure of its
  • Magnetical vigor in the eminencies and stronger parts thereof. For the
  • Needle naturally endeavours to conform unto the Meridian, but being
  • distracted, driveth that way where the greater and powerfuller part of
  • the Earth is placed. Which may be illustrated from what hath been
  • delivered and may be conceived by any that understands the generalities
  • of Geography. For whereas on this side the Meridian, or the Isles of
  • _Azores_, where the first Meridian is placed, the Needle varieth
  • Eastward; it may be occasioned by that vast Tract of Earth, that is, of
  • _Europe_, _Asia_, and _Africa_, seated toward the East, and disposing
  • the Needle that way. For arriving at some part of the _Azores_, or
  • Islands of Saint _Michael_, which have a middle situation between these
  • Continents, and that vast and almost answerable Tract of _America_, it
  • seemeth equally distracted by both; and diverting unto neither, doth
  • parallel and place it self upon the true Meridian. But sailing farther,
  • it veers its Lilly to the West, and regardeth that quarter wherein the
  • Land is nearer or greater; and in the same latitude as it approacheth
  • the shore augmenteth its variation. And therefore as some observe, if
  • _Columbus_ or whosoever first discovered _America_, had apprehended the
  • cause of this variation, having passed more then half the way, he might
  • have been confirmed in the discovery, and assuredly foretold there lay a
  • vast and mighty continent toward the West. The reason I confess and
  • inference is good, but the instance perhaps not so. For _Columbus_ knew
  • not the variation of the compass, whereof _Sebastian Cabot_ first took
  • notice, who after made discovery in the Northern part of that continent.
  • And it happened indeed that part of _America_ was first discovered,
  • which was on this side farthest distant, that is, _Jamaica_, _Cuba_, and
  • the Isles in the Bay of _Mexico_. And from this variation do some new
  • discoverers deduce a probability in the attempts of the Northern passage
  • toward the _Indies_.
  • Now because where the greater continents are joyned, the action and
  • effluence is also greater; therefore those Needles do suffer the
  • greatest variation which are in Countries which most do feel that
  • action. And therefore hath _Rome_ far less variation then _London_; for
  • on the West side of _Rome_ are seated the great continents of _France_,
  • _Spain_, _Germany_, which take off the exuperance, and in some way
  • ballance the vigor of the Eastern parts. But unto _England_ there is
  • almost no Earth West, but the whole extent of _Europe_ and _Asia_ lieth
  • Eastward; and therefore at _London_ it varieth eleven degrees, that is
  • almost one _Rhomb_. Thus also by reason of the great continent of
  • _Brasilia_, _Peru_, and _Chili_, the Needle deflecteth toward the Land
  • twelve degrees; but at the straits of _Magellan_ where the Land is
  • narrowed, and the Sea on the other side, it varieth but five or six.
  • And so likewise, because the Cape _de las Agullas_ hath Sea on both
  • sides near it, and other Land remote, and as it were æquidistant from
  • it, therefore at that point the Needle conforms unto the true Meridian,
  • and is not distracted by the vicinity of Adjacencies. This is the
  • general and great cause of variation. But if in certain Creeks and
  • Vallies the Needle prove irregular, and vary beyond expectation, it may
  • be imputed unto some vigorous part of the Earth, or Magnetical eminence
  • not far distant. And this was the invention of _D. Gilbert_, not many
  • years past, a Physician in _London_. And therefore although some assume
  • the invention of its direction, and other have had the glory of the
  • Card; yet in the experiments, grounds, and causes thereof, _England_
  • produced the Father Philosopher, and discovered more in it then
  • _Columbus_ or _Americus_ did ever by it.
  • Unto this in great part true the reason of _Kircherus_ may be added:
  • That this variation proceedeth not only from terrestrious eminencies,
  • and magnetical veins of the Earth, laterally respecting the Needle, but
  • the different coagmentation of the Earth disposed unto the Poles, lying
  • under the Sea and Waters, which affect the Needle with great or lesser
  • variation, according to the vigour or imbecility of these subterraneous
  • lines, or the entire or broken compagination of the magnetical fabrick
  • under it. As is observable from several Loadstones placed at the bottom
  • of any water, for a Loadstone or Needle upon the surface, will variously
  • conform it self, according to the vigour or faintness of the Loadstones
  • under it.
  • Thus also a reason may be alledged for the variation of the variation,
  • and why, according to observation, the variation of the Needle hath
  • after some years been found to vary in some places. For this may
  • proceed from mutations of the earth, by subterraneous fires, fumes,
  • mineral spirits, or otherwise; which altering the constitution of the
  • magnetical parts, in process of time, doth vary the variation over the
  • place.
  • It is also probable what is conceived of its Antiquity, that the
  • knowledge of its polary power and direction unto the North was unknown
  • unto the Ancients; and though _Levinus Lemnius_, and _Cælius
  • Colcagninus_, are of another belief, is justly placed with new
  • inventions by _Pancirollus_. For their _Achilles_ and strongest argument
  • is an expression in _Plautus_, a very Ancient author, and contemporary
  • unto _Ennius_. _Hic ventus jam secundus est, cape modo versoriam._ Now
  • this _versoriam_ they construe to be the compass, which notwithstanding
  • according unto _Pineda_, who hath discussed the point, _Turnebus_,
  • _Cabeus_, and divers others, is better interpreted the rope that helps
  • to turn the Ship, or as we say, doth make it tack about; the Compass
  • declaring rather the Ship is turned, then conferring unto its
  • conversion. As for the long expeditions and sundry voyages of elder
  • times, which might confirm the Antiquity of this invention, it is not
  • improbable they were performed by the help of Stars; and so might the
  • Phœnicean navigators, and also _Ulisses_ sail about the
  • Mediterranean, by the flight of Birds, or keeping near the shore; and so
  • might _Hanno_ coast about _Africa_; or by the help of Oars, as is
  • expressed in the voyage of _Jonah_. And whereas it is contended that
  • this verticity was not unknown unto _Solomon_, in whom is presumed an
  • universality of knowledge; it will as forcibly follow, he knew the Art
  • of Typography, Powder and Guns, or had the Philosophers Stone, yet sent
  • unto _Ophir_ for Gold. It is not to be denied, that beside his
  • Political wisdom, his knowledge in Philosophy was very large; and
  • perhaps from his works therein, the ancient Philosophers, especially
  • _Aristotle_, who had the assistance of _Alexanders_ acquirements,
  • collected great observables. Yet if he knew the use of the Compass, his
  • Ships were surely very slow, that made a three years voyage from
  • _Eziongeber_ in the red Sea unto _Ophir_; which is supposed to be
  • _Taprobana_ or _Malaca_ in the _Indies_, not many moneths sail; and
  • since in the same or lesser time, _Drake_ and _Candish_ performed their
  • voyage about the Earth.
  • And as the knowledge of its verticity is not so old as some conceive, so
  • it is more ancient then most believe; nor had its discovery with Guns,
  • Printing, or as many think, some years before the discovery of
  • _America_. For it was not unknown unto _Petrus Peregrinus_ a Frenchman,
  • who two hundred years since left a Tract of the Magnet, and a perpetual
  • motion to be made thereby, preserved by _Gasserus_. _Paulus Venetus_,
  • and about five hundred years past _Albertus Magnus_ make mention hereof,
  • and quote for it a Book of _Aristotle_, _De Lapide_; which Book although
  • we find in the Catalogue of _Laertius_, yet with _Cabeus_ we may rather
  • judge it to be the work of some Arabick Writer, not many years before
  • the days of _Albertus_.
  • Lastly, It is likewise true what some have delivered of _Crocus Martis_,
  • that is, Steel corroded with Vinegar, Sulphur, or otherwise, and after
  • reverberated by fire. For the Loadstone will not at all attract it, nor
  • will it adhere, but lye therein like Sand. This to be understood of
  • _Crocus Martis_ well reverberated, and into a violet colour: for common
  • _chalybs præparatus_, or corroded and powdered Steel, the Loadstone
  • attracts like ordinary filings of Iron; and many times most of that
  • which passeth for _Crocus Martis_. So that this way may serve as a test
  • of its preparation; after which it becometh a very good medicine in
  • fluxes. The like may be affirmed of flakes of Iron that are rusty and
  • begin to tend unto Earth; for their cognation then expireth, and the
  • Loadstone will not regard them.
  • And therefore this may serve as a trial of good Steel. The Loadstone
  • taking up a greater mass of that which is most pure, it may also decide
  • the conversion of Wood into Iron, as is pretended from some Waters: and
  • the common conversion of Iron into Copper by the mediation of blew
  • Coperose, for the Loadstone will not attract it. Although it may be
  • questioned, whether in this operation, the Iron or Coperose be
  • transmuted, as may be doubted from the cognation of Coperose with
  • Copper; and the quantity of Iron remaining after the conversion. And the
  • same may be useful to some discovery concerning Vitriol or Coperose of
  • Mars, by some called Salt of Steel, made by the spirits of Vitriol or
  • Sulphur. For the corroded powder of Steel will after ablution be
  • actively attracted by the Loadstone, and also remaineth in little
  • diminished quantity. And therefore whether those shooting Salts partake
  • but little of Steel, and be not rather the vitriolous spirits fixed into
  • Salt by the effluvium or odor of Steel, is not without good question.
  • CHAPTER III
  • Concerning the Loadstone, therein of sundry common Opinions, and
  • received several relations: Natural, Historical, Medical, Magical.
  • And first not only a simple Heterodox, but a very hard Paradox, it will
  • seem, and of great absurdity unto obstinate ears, if we say, attraction
  • is unjustly appropriated unto the Loadstone, and that perhaps we speak
  • not properly, when we say vulgarly and appropriately the Loadstone
  • draweth Iron; and yet herein we should not want experiment and great
  • authority. The words of _Renatus des Cartes_ in his Principles of
  • Philosophy are very plain. _Præterea magnes trahet ferrum, sive potius
  • magnes & ferrum ad invicem accedunt, neque enim ulla ibi tractio est._
  • The same is solemnly determined by _Cabeus_. _Nec magnes trahit proprie
  • ferrum, nec ferrum ad se magnetem provocat, sed ambo pari conatu ad
  • invicem confluunt._ Concordant hereto is the assertion of Doctor
  • _Ridley_, Physitian unto the Emperour of _Russia_, in his Tract of
  • Magnetical Bodies, defining Magnetical attraction to be a natural
  • incitation and disposition conforming unto contiguity, an union of one
  • Magnetical Body with another, and no violent haling of the weak unto the
  • stronger. And this is also the doctrine of _Gilbertus_, by whom this
  • motion is termed Coition, and that not made by any faculty attractive of
  • one, but a Syndrome and concourse of each; a Coition alway of their
  • vigours, and also of their bodies, if bulk or impediment prevent not.
  • And therefore those contrary actions which flow from opposite Poles or
  • Faces, are not so properly expulsion and attraction, as _Sequela_ and
  • _Fuga_, a mutual flight and following. Consonant whereto are also the
  • determination of _Helmontius_, _Kircherus_, and _Licetus_.
  • [Sidenote: _Attraction reciprocal betwixt the Loadstone and Iron._]
  • The same is also confirmed by experiment; for if a piece of Iron be
  • fastened in the side of a bowl or bason water, a Loadstone swimming
  • freely in a Boot of Cork, will presently make unto it. So if a Steel or
  • Knife untouched, be offered toward the Needle that is touched, the
  • Needle nimbly moveth toward it, and conformeth unto union with the Steel
  • that moveth not. Again, If a Loadstone be finely filed, the Atoms or
  • dust thereof will adhere unto Iron that was never touched, even as the
  • powder of Iron doth also unto the Loadstone. And lastly, if in two
  • Skiffs of Cork, a Loadstone and Steel be placed within the Orb of their
  • activities, the one doth not move the other standing still, but both
  • hoise sail and steer unto each other. So that if the Loadstone attract,
  • the Steel hath also its attraction; for in this action the Alliciency is
  • reciprocal, which joyntly felt, they mutually approach and run into each
  • others arms.
  • And therefore surely more moderate expressions become this action, then
  • what the Ancients have used, which some have delivered in the most
  • violent terms of their language; so _Austin_ calls it, _Mirabilem ferri
  • raptorem_: _Hippocrates_ λίθος τὸν σίδηρον ἁρπάζει, _Lapis qui ferrum
  • rapit_. _Galen_ disputing against _Epicurus_ useth the term ἕλκειν, but
  • this also is too violent: among the Ancients _Aristotle_ spake most
  • warily, ὅστις τὸν σίδηρον κινεῖ, _Lapis qui ferrum movet_: and in some
  • tolerable acception do run the expressions of _Aquinas_, _Scaliger_ and
  • _Cusanus_.
  • Many relations are made, and great expectations are raised from the
  • _Magnes Carneus_, or a Loadstone, that hath a faculty to attract not
  • only iron but flesh; but this upon enquiry, and as _Cabeus_ also
  • observed, is nothing else but a weak and inanimate kind of Loadstone,
  • veined here and there with a few magnetical and ferreous lines; but
  • consisting of a bolary and clammy substance, whereby it adheres like
  • _Hæmatites_, or _Terra Lemnia_, unto the Lips. And this is that stone
  • which is to be understood, when Physitians joyn it with _Ætites_, or the
  • Eagle stone, and promise therein a vertue against abortion.
  • There is sometime a mistake concerning the variation of the Compass, and
  • therein one point is taken for another. For beyond that Equator some men
  • account its variation by the diversion of the Northern point, whereas
  • beyond that Circle the Southern point is Soveraign, and the North
  • submits his preheminency. For in the Southern coast either of _America_
  • or _Africa_, the Southern point deflects and varieth toward the Land, as
  • being disposed and spirited that way by the Meridional and proper
  • Hemisphere. And therefore on that side of the Earth the varying point is
  • best accounted by the South. And therefore also the writings of some,
  • and Maps of others, are to be enquired, that make the Needle decline
  • unto the East twelve degrees at _Capo Frio_, and six at the straits of
  • _Magellan_; accounting hereby one point for another, and preferring the
  • North in the Liberties and Province of the South.
  • [Sidenote: _That Garlick hinders not the attraction of the Loadstone._]
  • But certainly false it is what is commonly affirmed and believed, that
  • Garlick doth hinder the attraction of the Loadstone, which is
  • notwithstanding delivered by grave and worthy Writers, by _Pliny_,
  • _Solinus_, _Ptolemy_, _Plutarch_, _Albertus_, _Mathiolus_, _Rueus_,
  • _Langius_, and many more. An effect as strange as that of _Homers
  • Moly_, and the Garlick that _Mercury_ bestowed upon _Ulysses_. But that
  • it is evidently false, many experiments declare. For an Iron wire heated
  • red hot and quenched in the juice of Garlick, doth notwithstanding
  • contract a verticity from the Earth, and attracteth the Southern point
  • of the Needle. If also the tooth of a Loadstone be covered or stuck in
  • Garlick, it will notwithstanding attract; and Needles excited and fixed
  • in Garlick until they begin to rust, do yet retain their attractive and
  • polary respects.
  • [Sidenote: _Nor yet the Adamant or Diamond._]
  • Of the same stamp is that which is obtruded upon us by Authors ancient
  • and modern, that an Adamant or Diamond prevents or suspends the
  • attraction of the Loadstone: as is in open terms delivered by _Pliny_.
  • _Adamas dissidet cum Magnete lapide, ut juxta positus ferrum non
  • patiatur abstrahi, aut si admotus magnes, apprehenderit, rapiat atque
  • auferat_. For if a Diamond be placed between a Needle and a Loadstone,
  • there will nevertheless ensue a Coition even over the body of the
  • Diamond. And an easie matter it is to touch or excite a Needle through a
  • Diamond, by placing it at the tooth of a Loadstone; and therefore the
  • relation is false, or our estimation of these gemms untrue; nor are they
  • Diamonds which carry that name amongst us.
  • [Sidenote: De generatione rerum.]
  • It is not suddenly to be received what _Paracelsus_ affirmeth, that if a
  • Loadstone be anointed with Mercurial oyl, or onely put into Quicksilver,
  • it omitteth its attraction for ever. For we have found that Loadstones
  • and touched Needles which have laid long time in Quicksilver have not
  • amitted their attraction. And we also find that red hot Needles or wires
  • extinguished in Quicksilver, do yet acquire a verticity according to the
  • Laws of position in extinction. Of greater repugnancy unto reason is
  • that which he delivers concerning its graduation, that heated in fire
  • and often extinguished in oyl of Mars or Iron, it acquires an ability to
  • extract or draw forth a nail fastened in a wall; for, as we have
  • declared before, the vigor of the Loadstone is destroyed by fire, nor
  • will it be re-impregnated by any other Magnete then the Earth.
  • Nor is it to be made out what seemeth very plausible, and formerly hath
  • deceived us, that a Loadstone will not attract an Iron or Steel red hot.
  • The falsity hereof discovered first by _Kircherus_, we can confirm by
  • iterated experiment; very sensibly in armed Loadstones, and obscurely in
  • any other.
  • True it is, that besides fire some other wayes there are of its
  • destruction, as Age, Rust; and what is least dreamt on, an unnatural or
  • contrary situation. For being impolarily adjoyned unto a more vigorous
  • Loadstone, it will in a short time enchange its Poles; or being kept in
  • undue position, that is, not lying on the Meridian, or else with its
  • poles inverted, it receives in longer time impair in activity, exchange
  • of Faces; and is more powerfully preserved by position then by the dust
  • of Steel. But the sudden and surest way is fire; that is, fire not onely
  • actual but potential; the one surely and suddenly, the other slowly and
  • imperfectly; the one changing, the other destroying the figure. For if
  • distilled Vinegar or _Aqua fortis_ be poured upon the powder of
  • Loadstone, the subsiding powder dryed, retains some Magnetical vertue,
  • and will be attracted by the Loadstone: but if the menstruum or
  • dissolvent be evaporated to a consistence, and afterward doth shoot into
  • Icycles or Crystals, the Loadstone hath no power upon them; and if in a
  • full dissolution of Steel a separation of parts be made by precipitation
  • or exhalation, the exsiccated powder hath lost its wings and ascends
  • not unto the Loadstone. And though a Loadstone fired doth presently omit
  • its proper vertue, and according to the position in cooling contracts a
  • new verticity from the Earth; yet if the same be laid awhile in _aqua
  • fortis_ or other corrosive water, and taken out before a considerable
  • corrosion, it still reserves its attraction, and will convert the Needle
  • according to former polarity. And that duly preserved from violent
  • corrosion, or the natural disease of rust, it may long conserve its
  • vertue, beside the Magnetical vertue of the Earth, which hath lasted
  • since the Creation, a great example we have from the observation of our
  • learned friend Mr. _Graves_, [SN: _In his learned Pyramidographia._] in
  • an Ægyptian Idol cut out of Loadstone, and found among the _Mummies_;
  • which still retains its attraction, though probably taken out of the
  • Mine about two thousand years ago.
  • It is improbable what _Pliny_ affirmeth concerning the object of its
  • attraction, that it attracts not only ferreous bodies, but also
  • _liquorem vitri_; for in the body of Glass there is no ferreous or
  • magnetical nature which might occasion attraction. For of the Glass we
  • use, the purest is made of the finest sand and the ashes of Chali or
  • Glaswort, and the courser or green sort of the ashes of Brake or other
  • plants. True it is that in the making of Glass, it hath been an ancient
  • practice to cast in pieces of magnet, or perhaps manganes: conceiving it
  • carried away all ferreous and earthy parts, from the pure and running
  • portion of Glass, which the Loadstone would not respect; and therefore
  • if that attraction were not rather Electrical then Magnetical, it was a
  • wondrous effect what _Helmont_ delivereth concerning a Glass wherein the
  • Magistery of Loadstone was prepared, which after retained an attractive
  • quality.
  • But whether the Magnet attracteth more then common Iron, may be tried in
  • other bodies. It seems to attract the Smyris or Emery in powder; It
  • draweth the shining or glassie powder brought from the _Indies_, and
  • usually implied in writing-dust. There is also in Smiths Cinders by some
  • adhesion of Iron whereby they appear as it were glazed, sometime to be
  • found a magnetical operation; for some thereof applied have power to
  • move the Needle. But whether the ashes of vegetables which grow over
  • Iron Mines contract a magnetical quality, as containing some mineral
  • particles, which by sublimation ascend unto their Roots, and are
  • attracted together with their nourishment; according as some affirm from
  • the like observations upon the Mines of Silver, Quick silver, and Gold,
  • we must refer unto further experiment.
  • It is also improbable and something singular what some conceive, and
  • _Eusebius Nierembergius_, a learned Jesuit of _Spain_ delivers, that the
  • body of man is magnetical, and being placed in a Boat, the Vessel will
  • never rest untill the head respecteth the North. If this be true, the
  • bodies of Christians do lye unnaturally in their Graves. King _Cheops_
  • in his Tomb, and the _Jews_ in their beds have fallen upon the natural
  • position: who reverentially declining the situation of their Temple, nor
  • willing to lye as that stood, do place their Beds from North to South,
  • and delight to sleep Meridionally. This Opinion confirmed would much
  • advance the Microcosmical conceit, and commend the Geography of
  • _Paracelsus_, who according to the Cardinal points of the World divideth
  • the body of man: and therefore working upon humane ordure, and by long
  • preparation rendring it odoriferous, he terms it _Zibeta Occidentalis_,
  • Western _Civet_; making the face the East, but the posteriours the
  • _America_ or Western part of his Microcosm. The verity hereof might
  • easily be tried in _Wales_, where there are portable Boats, and made of
  • Leather, which would convert upon the impulsion of any verticity; and
  • seem to be the same whereof in his description of _Britain Cæsar_ hath
  • left some mention.
  • [Sidenote: _Anagrammatically._]
  • Another kind of verticity, is that which _Angelus doce mihi jus_,
  • _alias_, _Michael Sundevogis_, in a Tract _De Sulphure_, discovereth in
  • Vegetables, from sticks let fall or depressed under water; which equally
  • framed and permitted unto themselves, will ascend at the upper end, or
  • that which was vertical in their vegetation; wherein notwithstanding, as
  • yet, we have not found satisfaction. Although perhaps too greedy of
  • Magnalities, we are apt to make but favourable experiments concerning
  • welcome Truths, and such desired verities.
  • It is also wondrous strange what _Lælius Bisciola_ reporteth, that if
  • unto ten ounces of Loadstone one of Iron be added, it encreaseth not
  • unto eleven, but weighs ten ounces still. [SN: Horæ subsecivæ.] A
  • relation inexcusable in a work of leisurable hours: the examination
  • being as ready as the relation, and the falsity tried as easily as
  • delivered. Nor is it to be omitted what is taken up by the _Cœsius
  • Bernardus_ a late Mineralogist, and originally confirmed by _Porta_,
  • that Needles touched with a _Diamond_ contract a verticity, even as they
  • do with a Loadstone, which will not consist with experiment. And
  • therefore, as _Gilbertus_ observeth, he might be deceived, in touching
  • such Needles with _Diamonds_, which had a verticity before, as we have
  • declared most Needles to have; and so had he touched them with Gold or
  • Silver, he might have concluded a magnetical vertue therein.
  • In the same form may we place _Fracastorius_ his attraction of silver.
  • _Philostratus_ his _Pantarbes_, _Apollodorus_ and _Beda_ his relation of
  • the Loadstone that attracted onely in the night. But most inexcusable is
  • _Franciscus Rueus_, a man of our own profession; who in his discourse of
  • _Gemms_ mentioned in the _Apocalyps_, undertakes a Chapter of the
  • Loadstone. Wherein substantially and upon experiment he scarce
  • delivereth any thing: making long enumeration of its traditional
  • qualities, whereof he seemeth to believe many, and some above convicted
  • by experience, he is fain to salve as impostures of the Devil. But
  • _Bœtius de Boot_ Physitian unto _Rodulphus_ the second, hath
  • recompenced this defect; and in his Tract _De Lapidibus & Gemmis_,
  • speaks very materially hereof; and his Discourse is consonant unto
  • Experience and Reason.
  • As for Relations Historical, though many there be of less account, yet
  • two alone deserve consideration: The first concerneth magnetical Rocks,
  • and attractive Mountains in several parts of the Earth. The other the
  • Tomb of _Mahomet_ and bodies suspended in the air. Of Rocks magnetical
  • there are likewise two relations; for some are delivered to be in the
  • _Indies_, and some in the extremity of the North, and about the very
  • Pole. The Northern account is commonly ascribed unto _Olaus Magnus_
  • Archbishop of _Upsale_, who out of his Predecessor _Joannes_, _Saxo_,
  • and others, compiled a History of some Northern Nations; but this
  • assertion we have not discovered in that Work of his which commonly
  • passeth amongst us, and should believe his Geography herein no more then
  • that in the first line of his Book; when he affirmeth that _Biarmia_
  • (which is not seventy degrees in latitude) hath the Pole for its Zenith,
  • and Equinoctial for the Horizon.
  • Now upon this foundation, how uncertain soever men have erected mighty
  • illations, ascribing thereto the cause of the Needles direction, and
  • conceiving the effluctions from these Mountains and Rocks invite the
  • Lilly toward the North. Which conceit though countenanced by learned
  • men, is not made out either by experience or reason, for no man hath yet
  • attained or given a sensible account of the Pole by some degrees. It is
  • also observed the Needle doth very much vary as it approacheth the Pole;
  • whereas were there such direction from the Rocks, upon a nearer
  • approachment it would more directly respect them. Beside, were there
  • such magnetical Rocks under the Pole, yet being so far removed they
  • would produce no such effect. For they that sail by the Isle of _Ilua_
  • now called _Elba_ in the Thuscan Sea which abounds in veins of
  • Loadstone, observe no variation or inclination of the Needle; much less
  • may they expect a direction from Rocks at the end of the Earth. And
  • lastly, men that ascribe thus much unto Rocks of the North, must presume
  • or discover the like magneticals at the South: For in the Southern Seas
  • and far beyond the Equator, variations are large, and declinations as
  • constant as in the Northern Ocean.
  • [Sidenote: _(Probably) there be no magnetical Rocks._]
  • The other relation of Loadstone Mines and Rocks, in the shore of _India_
  • is delivered of old by _Pliny_; wherein, saith he, they are so placed
  • both in abundance and vigour, that it proves an adventure of hazard to
  • pass those Coasts in a Ship with Iron nails. _Serapion_ the Moor, an
  • Author of good esteem and reasonable Antiquity, confirmeth the same,
  • whose expression in the word _magnes_ is this. The Mine of this Stone is
  • in the Sea-coast of _India_, whereto when Ships approach, there is no
  • Iron in them which flies not like a Bird unto those Mountains; and
  • therefore their ships are fastened not with Iron but Wood, for otherwise
  • they would be torn to pieces. But this assertion, how positive soever,
  • is contradicted by all Navigators that pass that way; which are now
  • many, and of our own Nation, and might surely have been controled by
  • _Nearchus_ the Admiral of _Alexander_; who not knowing the Compass, was
  • fain to coast that shore.
  • [Sidenote: Mahomet's _tomb of stone, and built upon the ground._]
  • For the relation concerning _Mahomet_, it is generally believed his Tomb
  • at _Medina Talnabi_, in _Arabia_, without any visible supporters hangeth
  • in the air between two Loadstones artificially contrived both above and
  • below; which conceit is fabulous and evidently false from the testimony
  • of Ocular Testators, who affirm his Tomb is made of Stone, and lyeth
  • upon the ground; as beside others the learned _Vossius_ observeth from
  • _Gabriel Sionita_, and _Joannes Hesronita_, two _Maronites_ in their
  • relations hereof. Of such intentions and attempt by _Mahometans_ we read
  • in some Relators, and that might be the occasion of the Fable, which by
  • tradition of time and distance of place enlarged into the Story of being
  • accomplished. And this hath been promoted by attempts of the like
  • nature; for we read in _Pliny_ that one _Dinocrates_ began to Arch the
  • Temple of _Arsinoe_ in _Alexandria_ with Loadstone, that so her Statue
  • might be suspended in the air to the amazement of the beholders. And to
  • lead on our crudelity herein, confirmation may be drawn from History and
  • Writers of good authority. So it is reported by _Ruffinus_, that in the
  • Temple of _Serapis_ there was an Iron Chariot suspended by Loadstones in
  • the air; which stones removed, the Chariot fell and dashed into pieces.
  • The like doth _Beda_ report of _Bellerophons_ Horse, which framed of
  • Iron, was placed between two Loadstones, with wings expansed, pendulous
  • in the air.
  • The verity of these Stories we shall not further dispute, their
  • possibility we may in some way determine; if we conceive what no man
  • will deny, that bodies suspended in the air have this suspension from
  • one or many Loadstones placed both above and below it; or else by one or
  • many placed only above it. Likewise the body to be suspended in respect
  • of the Loadstone above, is either placed first at a pendulous distance
  • in the medium, or else attracted unto that site by the vigor of the
  • Loadstone. And so we first affirm, that possible it is, a body may be
  • suspended between two Loadstones; that is, it being so equally attracted
  • unto both, that it determineth it self unto neither. But surely this
  • position will be of no duration; for if the air be agitated or the body
  • waved either way, it omits the equilibration, and disposeth it self unto
  • the nearest attractor. Again, It is not impossible (though hardly
  • feasible) by a single Loadstone to suspend an Iron in the air, the Iron
  • being artificially placed and at a distance guided toward the stone,
  • until it find the neutral point, wherein its gravity just equals the
  • magnetical quality, the one exactly extolling as much as the other
  • depresseth. And lastly, Impossible it is that if an Iron rest upon the
  • ground, and a Loadstone be placed over it, it should ever so arise as to
  • hang in the way or medium; for that vigor which at a distance is able to
  • overcome the resistance of its gravity and to lift it up from the Earth,
  • will as it approacheth nearer be still more able to attract it; never
  • remaining in the middle that could not abide in the extreams. Now the
  • way of _Baptista Porta_ that by a thred fastneth a Needle to a Table,
  • and then so guides and orders the same, that by the attraction of the
  • Loadstone it abideth in the air, infringeth not this reason; for this is
  • a violent retention, and if the thred be loosened, the Needle ascends
  • and adheres unto the Attractor.
  • [Sidenote: _Powder of Loadstones, of what operation._]
  • The third consideration concerneth Medical relations; wherein what ever
  • effects are delivered, they are either derived from its mineral and
  • ferreous condition, or else magnetical operation. Unto the ferreous and
  • mineral quality pertaineth what _Dioscorides_ an ancient Writer and
  • Souldier under _Anthony_ and _Cleopatra_ affirmeth, that half a dram of
  • Loadstone given with Honey and Water, proves a purgative medicine, and
  • evacuateth gross humours. But this is a quality of great incertainty;
  • for omitting the vehicle of Water and Honey, which is of a laxative
  • power it self, the powder of some Loadstones in this dose doth rather
  • constipate and binde, then purge and loosen the belly. And if sometimes
  • it cause any laxity, it is probably in the same way with Iron and Steel
  • unprepared, which will disturb some bodies, and work by Purge and Vomit.
  • And therefore, whereas it is delivered in a Book ascribed unto _Galen_,
  • that it is a good medicine in dropsies, and evacuates the waters of
  • persons so affected: It may I confess by siccity and astriction afford a
  • confirmation unto parts relaxed, and such as be hydropically disposed;
  • and by these qualities it may be useful in _Hernias_ or _Ruptures_, and
  • for these it is commended by _Ætius_, _Ægineta_, and _Oribatius_; who
  • only affirm that it contains the vertue of _Hæmatites_, and being burnt
  • was sometimes vended for it. Wherein notwithstanding there is an higher
  • vertue; and in the same prepared, or in rich veins thereof, though
  • crude, we have observed the effects of Chalybeat Medicines; and the
  • benefits of Iron and Steel in strong obstructions. And therefore that
  • was probably a different vein of Loadstone, or infected with other
  • mineral mixture, which the Ancients commended for a purgative medicine,
  • and ranked the same with the violentest kinds thereof: with _Hippophae_,
  • _Cneoron_, and _Thymelæa_, as we find it in _Hippocrates_ [SN: _De
  • morbis internis._]; and might be somewhat doubtful, whether by the
  • magnesian stone, he understood the Loadstone; did not _Achilles Statius_
  • define the same, the Stone that loveth Iron.
  • To this mineral condition belongeth what is delivered by some, that
  • wounds which are made with weapons excited by the Loadstone, contract a
  • malignity, and become of more difficult cure; which nevertheless is not
  • to be found in the incision of Chyrurgions with knives and lances
  • touched; which leave no such effect behind them. Hither we also refer
  • that affirmative, which sayes the Loadstone is poison; and therefore in
  • the lists of poisons we find it in many Authors. But this our experience
  • cannot confirm, and the practice of the King of _Zeilan_ clearly
  • contradicteth; who as _Garcias ab Horto_, Physitian unto the _Spanish_
  • Viceroy delivereth, hath all his meat served up in dishes of Loadstone,
  • and conceives thereby he preserveth the vigour of youth.
  • But surely from a magnetical activity must be made out what is let fall
  • by _Ætius_, that a Loadstone held in the hand of one that is podagrical,
  • doth either cure or give great ease in the Gout. Or what _Marcellus
  • Empericus_ affirmeth, that as an amulet, it also cureth the headach;
  • which are but additions unto its proper nature, and hopeful enlargements
  • of its allowed attraction. For perceiving its secret power to draw
  • magnetical bodies, men have invented a new attraction, to draw out the
  • dolour and pain of any part. And from such grounds it surely became a
  • philter, and was conceived a medicine of some venereal attraction; and
  • therefore upon this stone they graved the Image of _Venus_, according
  • unto that of _Claudian_, _Venerem magnetica gemma figurat_. Hither must
  • we also ruler what is delivered concerning its power to draw out of the
  • body bullets and heads of arrows, and for the like intention is mixed up
  • in plaisters. Which course, although as vain and ineffectual it be
  • rejected by many good Authors, yet is it not methinks so readily to be
  • denied, nor the Practice of many Physicians which have thus compounded
  • plaisters, thus suddenly to be condemned, as may be observed in the
  • _Emplastrum divinum Nicolai_, the _Emplastrum nigrum_ of _Augspurg_, the
  • _Opodeldoch_ and _Attractivum_ of _Paracelsus_, with several more in the
  • Dispensatory of _Wecker_, and practice of _Sennertus_. The cure also of
  • _Hernias_, or _Ruptures_ in _Pareus_: and the method also of curation
  • lately delivered by _Daniel Beckherus_,[D] and approved by the
  • Professors of _Leyden_, that is, of a young man of _Spruceland_ that
  • casually swallowed a knife about ten inches long, which was cut out of
  • his stomach, and the wound healed up. In which cure to attract the knife
  • to a convenient situation, there was applied a plaister made up with the
  • powder of Loadstone. Now this kind of practice _Libavius_, _Gilbertus_,
  • and lately _Swickardus_ [SN: _In his Ars Magnetica._] condemn, as vain,
  • and altogether unuseful; because a Loadstone in powder hath no
  • attractive power; for in that form it omits his polarly respects, and
  • loseth those parts which are the rule of attraction.
  • [D] De cultrivoro Prussiaco, 1636. _The cure of the Prussian Knife._
  • Wherein to speak compendiously, if experiment hath not deceived us, we
  • first affirm that a Loadstone in powder omits not all attraction. For
  • if the powder of a rich vein be in a reasonable quantity presented
  • toward the Needle freely placed, it will not appear to be void of all
  • activity, but will be able to stir it. Nor hath it only a power to move
  • the Needle in powder and by it self, but this will it also do, if
  • incorporated and mixed with plaisters; as we have made trial in the
  • _Emplastrum de Minia_, with half an ounce of the mass, mixing a dram of
  • Loadstone. For applying the magdaleon or roal unto the Needle, it would
  • both stir and attract it; not equally in all parts, but more vigorously
  • in some, according unto the Mine of the Stone, more plentifully
  • dispersed in the mass. And lastly, In the Loadstone powdered, the polary
  • respects are not wholly destroyed. For those diminutive particles are
  • not atomical or meerly indivisible, but consist of dimensions sufficient
  • for their operations, though in obscurer effects. Thus if unto the
  • powder of Loadstone or Iron we admove the North Pole of the Loadstone,
  • the Powders or small divisions will erect and conform themselves
  • thereto: but if the South Pole approach, they will subside, and
  • inverting their bodies, respect the Loadstone with the other extream.
  • And this will happen not only in a body of powder together, but in any
  • particle or dust divided from it.
  • Now though we disavow not these plaisters, yet shall we not omit two
  • cautions in their use, that therein the Stone be not too subtilly
  • powdered, for it will better manifest its attraction in a more sensible
  • dimension. That where is desired a speedy effect, it may be considered
  • whether it were not better to relinquish the powdered plaisters, and to
  • apply an entire Loadstone unto the part: And though the other be not
  • wholly ineffectual, whether this way be not more powerful, and so might
  • have been in the cure of the young man delivered by _Beckerus_.
  • The last consideration concerneth Magical relations; in which account we
  • comprehend effects derived and fathered upon hidden qualities,
  • specifical forms, Antipathies and Sympathies, whereof from received
  • grounds of Art, no reasons are derived. Herein relations are strange and
  • numerous; men being apt in all Ages to multiply wonders, and
  • Philosophers dealing with admirable bodies, as Historians have done with
  • excellent men, upon the strength of their great atcheivements, ascribing
  • acts unto them not only false but impossible; and exceeding truth as
  • much in their relations, as they have others in their actions. Hereof we
  • shall briefly mention some delivered by Authors of good esteem: whereby
  • we may discover the fabulous inventions of some, the credulous supinity
  • of others, and the great disservice unto truth by both: multiplying
  • obscurities in Nature, and authorising hidden qualities that are false;
  • whereas wise men are ashamed there are so many true.
  • And first, _Dioscorides_ puts a shrewd quality upon it, and such as men
  • are apt enough to experiment, who therewith discovers the incontinency
  • of a wife, by placing the Loadstone under her pillow, whereupon she will
  • not be able to remain in bed with her husband. The same he also makes a
  • help unto thievery. For Thieves saith he, having a design upon a house,
  • do make a fire at the four corners thereof, and cast therein the
  • fragments of Loadstone: whence ariseth a fume that so disturbeth the
  • inhabitants, that they forsake the house and leave it to the spoil of
  • the Robbers. This relation, how ridiculous soever, hath _Albertus_ taken
  • up above a thousand years after, and _Marbodeus_ the Frenchman hath
  • continued the same in Latine Verse, which with the Notes of _Pictorius_
  • is currant unto our dayes. As strange must be the Lithomancy or
  • divination from this Stone, whereby as _Tzetzes_ delivers, _Helenus_ the
  • Prophet foretold the destruction of _Troy_: and the Magick thereof not
  • safely to be believed, which was delivered by _Orpheus_, that sprinkled
  • with water it will upon a question emit a voice not much unlike an
  • Infant. But surely the Loadstone of _Laurentius Guascus_ the Physitian,
  • is never to be matched; wherewith, as _Cardan_ delivereth, whatsoever
  • Needles or Bodies were touched, the wounds and punctures made thereby,
  • were never felt at all. And yet as strange is that which is delivered by
  • some, that a Loadstone preserved in the salt of a _Remora_, acquires a
  • power to attract gold out of the deepest Wells. Certainly a studied
  • absurdity, not casually cast out, but plotted for perpetuity: for the
  • strangeness of the effect ever to be admired, and the difficulty of the
  • trial never to be convicted.
  • These conceits are of that monstrosity that they refute themselves in
  • their recitements. There is another of better notice, and whispered
  • thorow the World with some attention; credulous and vulgar auditors
  • readily believing it, and more judicious and distinctive heads, not
  • altogether rejecting it. The conceit is excellent, and if the effect
  • would follow, somewhat divine; whereby we might communicate like
  • spirits, and confer on earth with _Menippus_ in the Moon. And this is
  • pretended from the sympathy of two Needles touched with the same
  • Loadstone, and placed in the center of two Abecedary circles or rings,
  • with letters described round about them, one friend keeping one, and
  • another the other, and agreeing upon an hour wherein they will
  • communicate. For then, saith Tradition, at what distance of place
  • soever, when one Needle shall be removed unto any letter, the other by a
  • wonderful sympathy will move unto the same. But herein I confess my
  • experience can find no truth; for having expressly framed two circles of
  • Wood, and according to the number of the Latine letters divided each
  • into twenty three parts, placing therein two stiles or Needles composed
  • of the same steel, touched with the same Loadstone, and at the same
  • point: of these two, whensoever I removed the one, although but at the
  • distance of half a span, the other would stand like _Hercules_ pillars,
  • and if the Earth stand still, have surely no motion at all. Now as it is
  • not possible that any body should have no boundaries, or Sphear of its
  • activity, so it is improbable it should effect that at distance, which
  • nearer hand it cannot at all perform.
  • Again, The conceit is ill contrived, and one effect inferred, whereas
  • the contrary will ensue. For if the removing of one of the Needles from
  • _A_ to _B_, should have any action or influence on the other, it would
  • not intice it from _A_ to _B_, but repell it from _A_ to _Z_: for
  • Needles excited by the same point of the stone, do not attract, but
  • avoid each other, even as these also do, when their invigorated extreams
  • approach unto one other.
  • Lastly, Were this conceit assuredly true, yet were it not a conclusion
  • at every distance to be tried by every head: it being no ordinary or
  • Almanack business, but a Problem Mathematical, to finde out the
  • difference of hours in different places; nor do the wisest exactly
  • satisfie themselves in all. For the hours of several places anticipate
  • each other, according unto their Longitudes, which are not exactly
  • discovered of every place; and therefore the trial hereof at a
  • considerable interval, is best performed at the distance of the
  • _Antœci_; that is, such habitations as have the same Meridian and
  • equal parallel, on different sides of the Æquator; or more plainly the
  • same Longitude and the same Latitude unto the South, which we have in
  • the North. For unto such situations it is noon and midnight at the very
  • same time.
  • And therefore the Sympathy of these Needles is much of the same mould
  • with that intelligence which is pretended from the flesh of one body
  • transmuted by incision into another. [SN: De curtorum Chyrurgia.] For if
  • by the Art of _Taliacotius_, a permutation of flesh, or transmutation be
  • made from one mans body into another, as if a piece of flesh be
  • exchanged from the bicipital muscle of either parties arm, and about
  • them both an Alphabet circumscribed; upon a time appointed as some
  • conceptions affirm, they may communicate at what distance soever. For if
  • the one shall prick himself in _A_, the other at the same time will have
  • a sense thereof in the same part: and upon inspection of his arm
  • perceive what letters the other points out in his. Which is a way of
  • intelligence very strange: and would requite the lost Art of
  • _Pythagoras_, who could read a reverse in the Moon.
  • Now this magnetical conceit how strange soever, might have some original
  • in Reason; for men observing no solid body, whatsoever did interrupt its
  • action, might be induced to believe no distance would terminate the
  • same; and most conceiving it pointed unto the Pole of Heaven, might also
  • opinion that nothing between could restrain it. Whosoever was the
  • Author, the _Æolus_ that blew it about was _Famianus Strada_, that
  • Elegant Jesuit, in his Rhetorical prolusions, who chose out this subject
  • to express the stile of _Lucretius_. But neither _Baptista Porta_, _de
  • Furtivis Literarum notis_; _Trithemius_ in his Steganography, _Selenus_
  • in his Cryptography, [SN: Nunc. inanim. _by D._ Godwin _Bishop of
  • Hereford_.] or _Nuncius inanimatus_ make any consideration hereof,
  • although they deliver many ways to communicate thoughts at distance. And
  • this we will not deny may in some manner be effected by the Loadstone;
  • that is, from one room into another; by placing a table in the wall
  • common unto both, and writing thereon the same letters one against
  • another: for upon the approach of a vigorous Loadstone unto a letter on
  • this side, the Needle will move unto the same on the other. But this is
  • a very different way from ours at present; and hereof there are many
  • ways delivered, and more may be discovered which contradict not the rule
  • of its operations.
  • As for _Unguentum Armarium_, called also _Magneticum_, it belongs not to
  • this discourse, it neither having the Loadstone for its ingredient, nor
  • any one of its actions: but supposeth other principles, as common and
  • universal spirits, which convey the action of the remedy unto the part,
  • and conjoins the vertue of bodies far disjoyned. But perhaps the cures
  • it doth, are not worth so mighty principles; it commonly healing but
  • simple wounds, and such as mundified and kept clean, do need no other
  • hand then that of Nature, and the Balsam of the proper part. Unto which
  • effect there being fields of Medicines, it may be a hazardous curiosity
  • to rely on this; and because men say the effect doth generally follow,
  • it might be worth the experiment to try, whether the same will not
  • ensue, upon the same Method of cure, by ordinary Balsams, or common
  • vulnerary plaisters.
  • Many other Magnetisms may be pretended, and the like attractions through
  • all the creatures of Nature. Whether the same be verified in the action
  • of the Sun upon inferiour bodies, whether there be _Æolian_ Magnets,
  • whether the flux and reflux of the Sea be caused by any Magnetism from
  • the Moon; whether the like be really made out, or rather Metaphorically
  • verified in the sympathies of Plants and Animals, might afford a large
  • dispute; and _Kircherus_ in his _Catena Magnetica_ hath excellently
  • discussed the same; which work came late unto our hand, but might have
  • much advantaged this Discourse.
  • Other Discourses there might be made of the Loadstone: as Moral,
  • Mystical, Theological; and some have handsomely done them; as _Ambrose_,
  • _Austine_, _Gulielmus Parisiensis_, and many more, but these fall under
  • no Rule, and are as boundless as mens inventions. And though honest
  • minds do glorifie God hereby; yet do they most powerfully magnifie him,
  • and are to be looked on with another eye, who demonstratively set forth
  • its Magnalities; who not from postulated or precarious inferences,
  • entreat a courteous assent; but from experiments and undeniable effects,
  • enforce the wonder of its Maker.
  • CHAPTER IV
  • Of Bodies Electrical.
  • [Sidenote: Bodies Electrical, what?]
  • Having thus spoken of the Loadstone and Bodies Magnetical, I shall in
  • the next place deliver somewhat of Electrical, and such as may seem to
  • have attraction like the other. Hereof we shall also deliver what
  • particularly spoken or not generally known is manifestly or probably
  • true, what generally believed is also false or dubious. Now by
  • Electrical bodies, I understand not such as are Metallical, mentioned by
  • _Pliny_, and the Ancients; for their Electrum was a mixture made of
  • Gold, with the Addition of a fifth part of Silver; a substance now as
  • unknown as true _Aurichalcum_, or _Corinthian_ Brass, and set down among
  • things lost by _Pancirollus_. Nor by Electrick Bodies do I conceive such
  • only as take up shavings, straws, and light bodies, in which number the
  • Ancients only placed _Jet_ and _Amber_; but such as conveniently placed
  • unto their objects attract all bodies palpable whatsoever. I say
  • conveniently placed, that is, in regard of the object, that it be not
  • too ponderous, or any way affixed; in regard of the Agent, that it be
  • not foul or sullied, but wiped, rubbed, and excitated; in regard of
  • both, that they be conveniently distant, and no impediment interposed. I
  • say, all bodies palpable, thereby excluding fire, which indeed it will
  • not attract, nor yet draw through it; for fire consumes its effluxions
  • by which it should attract.
  • Now although in this rank but two were commonly mentioned by the
  • Ancients, _Gilbertus_ discovereth many more; as _Diamonds_, _Saphyrs_,
  • _Carbuncles_, _Iris_, _Opalls_, _Amethysts_, _Beril_, _Crystal_,
  • _Bristol-stones_, _Sulphur_, _Mastick_, hard _Wax_, hard _Rosin_,
  • _Arsenic_, _Sal-gemm_, _Roch-Allum_, common Glass, _Stibium_, or Glass
  • of _Antimony_. Unto these Cabeus addeth white Wax, _Gum Elemi_, _Gum
  • Guaici_, _Pix Hispanica_, and _Gipsum_. And unto these we add _Gum
  • Anime_, _Benjamin_, _Talcum_, _China-dishes_, _Sandaraca_, _Turpentine_,
  • _Styrax Liquida_, and _Caranna_ dried into a hard consistence. And the
  • same attraction we find, not onely in simple bodies, but such as are
  • much compounded; as in the _Oxycroceum_ plaister, and obscurely that _ad
  • Herniam_, and _Gratia Dei_; all which smooth and rightly prepared, will
  • discover a sufficient power to stir the Needle, setled freely upon a
  • well-pointed pin; and so as the Electrick may be applied unto it without
  • all disadvantage.
  • But the attraction of these Electricks we observe to be very different.
  • Resinous or unctuous bodies, and such as will flame, attract most
  • vigorously, and most thereof without frication; as _Anime_, _Benjamin_,
  • and most powerfully good hard Wax, which will convert the Needle almost
  • as actively as the Loadstone. And we believe that all or most of this
  • substance if reduced to hardness, tralucency or clearness, would have
  • some attractive quality. But juices concrete, or Gums easily dissolving
  • in water, draw not at all: as _Aloe_, _Opium_, _Sanguis Draconis_,
  • _Lacca_, _Calbanum_, _Sagapenum_. Many stones also both precious and
  • vulgar, although terse and smooth, have not this power attractive: as
  • _Emeralds_, _Pearl_, _Jaspis_, _Corneleans_, _Agathe_, _Heliotropes_,
  • _Marble_, _Alablaster_, _Touchstone_, _Flint_, and _Bezoar_. Glass
  • attracts but weakly, though clear; some slick stones and thick Glasses
  • indifferently: _Arsenic_ but weakly, so likewise Glass of _Antimony_,
  • but _Crocus Metallorum_ not at all. Salts generally but weakly, as _Sal
  • Gemma_, _Allum_, and also _Talke_; nor very discoverably by any
  • frication, but if gently warmed at the fire, and wiped with a dry cloth,
  • they will better discover their Electricities.
  • No Metal attracts, nor Animal concretion we know, although polite and
  • smooth; as we have made trial in _Elks_ Hoofs, Hawks-Talons, the Sword
  • of a _Sword-fish_, _Tortois-shells_, _Sea-horse_, and _Elephants_ Teeth,
  • in Bones, in _Harts-horn_, and what is usually conceived
  • _Unicorns-horn_. No Wood though never so hard and polished, although out
  • of some thereof Electrick bodies proceed; as _Ebony_, _Box_, _Lignum
  • vitæ_, _Cedar_, _etc._ And although _Jet_ and _Amber_ be reckoned among
  • _Bitumens_, yet neither do we find _Asphaltus_, that is, _Bitumens_ of
  • _Judea_, nor _Sea-cole_, nor _Camphire_, nor _Mummia_ to attract,
  • although we have tried in large and polished pieces. Now this attraction
  • have we tried in straws and paleous bodies, in Needles of Iron,
  • equilibrated, Powders of Wood and Iron, in Gold and Silver foliate. And
  • not only in solid but fluent and liquid bodies, as oyls made both by
  • expression and distillation; in Water, in spirits of Wine, _Vitriol_ and
  • _Aquafortis_.
  • But how this attraction is made, is not so easily determined; that 'tis
  • performed by effluviums is plain, and granted by most; for Electricks
  • will not commonly attract, except they grow hot or become perspirable.
  • For if they be foul and obnubilated, it hinders their effluxion; nor if
  • they be covered, though but with Linen or Sarsenet, or if a body be
  • interposed, for that intercepts the effluvium. If also a powerful and
  • broad Electrick of Wax or _Anime_ be held over fine powder, the Atoms or
  • small particles will ascend most numerously unto it; and if the
  • Electrick be held unto the light, it may be observed that many thereof
  • will fly, and be as it were discharged from the Electrick to the
  • distance sometime of two or three inches. Which motion is performed by
  • the breath of the effluvium issuing with agility; for as the Electrick
  • cooleth, the projection of the Atoms ceaseth.
  • [Sidenote: Cabeus _his way for attraction in bodies Electrick_.]
  • The manner hereof _Cabeus_ wittily attempteth, affirming that this
  • effluvium attenuateth and impelleth the neighbor air, which returning
  • home in a gyration, carrieth with it the obvious bodies unto the
  • Electrick. And this he labours to confirm by experiments; for if the
  • straws be raised by a vigorous Electrick, they do appear to wave and
  • turn in their ascents. If likewise the Electrick be broad, and the
  • straws light and chaffy, and held at a reasonable distance, they will
  • not arise unto the middle, but rather adhere toward the Verge or Borders
  • thereof. And lastly, if many straws be laid together, and a nimble
  • Electrick approach, they will not all arise unto it, but some will
  • commonly start aside, and be whirled a reasonable distance from it. Now
  • that the air impelled returns unto its place in a gyration or whirling,
  • is evident from the Atoms or Motes in the Sun. For when the Sun so
  • enters a hole or window, that by its illumination the Atoms or Motes
  • become perceptible, if then by our breath the air be gently impelled, it
  • may be perceived, that they will circularly return and in a gyration
  • unto their places again.
  • [Sidenote: _The way of Sir_ Kenelm Digby.]
  • Another way of their attraction is also delivered; that is, by a tenuous
  • emanation or continued effluvium, which after some distance retracteth
  • into it self; as is observable in drops of Syrups, Oyl, and seminal
  • Viscosities, which spun at length, retire into their former dimensions.
  • Now these effluviums advancing from the body of the Electrick, in their
  • return do carry back the bodies whereon they have laid hold within the
  • Sphere or Circle of their continuities; and these they do not onely
  • attract, but with their viscous arms hold fast a good while after. And
  • if any shall wonder why these effluviums issuing forth impel and
  • protrude not the straw before they can bring it back, it is because the
  • effluvium passing out in a smaller thred and more enlengthened filament,
  • it stirreth not the bodies interposed, but returning unto its original,
  • falls into a closer substance, and carrieth them back unto it self. And
  • this way of attraction is best received, embraced by Sir _Kenelm Digby_
  • in his excellent Treaty of bodies, allowed by _Des Cartes_ in his
  • principles of Philosophy, as far and concerneth fat and resinous bodies,
  • and with exception of Glass, whose attraction he also deriveth from the
  • recess of its effluction. And this in some manner the words of
  • _Gilbertus_ will bear: _Effluvia illa tenuiora concipiunt & amplectuntur
  • corpora, quibus uniuntur, & electris tanquam extensis brachiis, & ad
  • fontem propinquitate invalescentibus effluviis, deducuntur_. And if the
  • ground were true, that the Earth were an Electrick body, and the air but
  • the effluvium thereof, we might have more reason to believe that from
  • this attraction, and by this effluction, bodies tended to the Earth, and
  • could not remain above it.
  • Our other discourse of Electricks concerneth a general opinion touching
  • _Jet_ and _Amber_, that they attract all light bodies, except _Ocymum_
  • or _Basil_, and such as be dipped in oyl or oyled; and this is urged as
  • high as _Theophrastus_: but _Scaliger_ acquitteth him; And had this been
  • his assertion, _Pliny_ would probably have taken it up, who herein
  • stands out, and delivereth no more but what is vulgarly known. But
  • _Plutarch_ speaks positively in his _Symposiacks_, that _Amber_
  • attracteth all bodies, excepting Basil and oyled substances. With
  • _Plutarch_ consent many Authors both Ancient and Modern; but the most
  • inexcusable are _Lemnius_ and _Rueus_, whereof the one delivering the
  • nature of Minerals mentioned in Scripture, the infallible fountain of
  • Truth, confirmeth their vertues with erroneous traditions; the other
  • undertaking the occult and hidden Miracles of Nature, accepteth this for
  • one; and endeavoureth to alledge a reason of that which is more then
  • occult, that is, not existent.
  • Now herein, omitting the authority of others, as the Doctrine of
  • experiment hath informed us, we first affirm, That _Amber_ attracts not
  • Basil, is wholly repugnant unto truth. For if the leaves thereof or
  • dried stalks be stripped into small straws, they arise unto _Amber_,
  • _Wax_, and other Electries, no otherwise then those of Wheat and Rye:
  • nor is there any peculiar fatness or singular viscosity in that plant
  • that might cause adhesion, and so prevent its ascension. But that _Jet_
  • and _Amber_ attract not straws oyled, is in part true and false. For if
  • the straws be much wet or drenched in oyl, true it is that _Amber_
  • draweth them not; for then the oyl makes the straws to adhere unto the
  • part whereon they are placed, so that they cannot rise unto the
  • Attractor; and this is true, not onely if they be soaked in Oyl, but
  • spirits of Wine or Water. But if we speak of Straws or festucous
  • divisions lightly drawn over with oyl, and so that it causeth no
  • adhesion; or if we conceive an Antipathy between Oyl and _Amber_, the
  • Doctrine is not true. For _Amber_ will attract straws thus oyled, it
  • will convert the Needles of Dials made either of Brass or Iron, although
  • they be much oyled; for in these Needles consisting free upon their
  • Center, there can be no adhesion. It will likewise attract Oyl it self,
  • and if it approacheth unto a drop thereof, it becometh conical, and
  • ariseth up unto it, for Oyl taketh not away his attraction, although it
  • be rubbed over it. For if you touch a piece of Wax already excitated
  • with common Oyl, it will notwithstanding attract, though not so
  • vigorously as before. But if you moisten the same with any Chymical Oyl,
  • Water, or spirits of Wine, or only breath upon it, it quite omits its
  • attraction, for either its influencies cannot get through, or will not
  • mingle with those substances.
  • It is likewise probable the Ancients were mistaken concerning its
  • substance and generation; they conceiving it a vegetable concretion made
  • of the gums of Trees, especially _Pine_ and _Poplar_ falling into the
  • water, and after indurated or hardened, whereunto accordeth the Fable of
  • _Phaetons_ sisters: but surely the concretion is Mineral, according as
  • is delivered by _Boetius_. For either it is found in Mountains and
  • mediterraneous parts; and so it is a fat and unctuous sublimation in the
  • Earth, concreted and fixed by salt and nitrous spirits wherewith it
  • meeteth. Or else, which is most usual, it is collected upon the
  • Sea-shore; and so it is a fat and bituminous juice coagulated by the
  • saltness of the Sea. Now that salt spirits have a power to congeal and
  • coagulate unctuous bodies, is evident in Chymical operations; in the
  • distillations of _Arsenick_, sublimate and _Antimony_; in the mixture of
  • oyl of _Juniper_, with the salt and acide spirit of _Sulphur_, for
  • thereupon ensueth a concretion unto the consistence of _Birdlime_; as
  • also in spirits of salt, or _Aqua fortis_ poured upon oyl of Olive, or
  • more plainly in the Manufacture of Soap. And many bodies will coagulate
  • upon commixture, whose separated natures promise no concretion. Thus
  • upon a solution of _Tin_ by _Aqua fortis_, there will ensue a
  • coagulation, like that of whites of Eggs. [SN: _How the stone is bred in
  • the Kidney or Bladder._] Thus the volatile salt of Urine will coagulate
  • _Aqua vitæ_, or spirits of Wine; and thus perhaps (as _Helmont_
  • excellently declareth) the stones or calculous concretions in Kidney or
  • Bladder may be produced: the spirits or volatile salt of Urine
  • conjoyning with the _Aqua vitæ_ potentially lying therein; as he
  • illustrateth from the distillation of fermented Urine. From whence
  • ariseth an _Aqua vitæ_ or spirit, which the volatile salt of the same
  • Urine will congeal; and finding an earthy concurrence, strike into a
  • lapideous substance.
  • [Sidenote: _Of a Bee and a Viper involved in Amber._ Mart. _l._ 4.]
  • Lastly, We will not omit what _Bellabonus_ upon his own experiment writ
  • from _Dantzich_ unto _Mellichius_, as he hath left recorded in his
  • Chapter, _De succino_, that the bodies of _Flies_, _Pismires_, and the
  • like, which are said oft-times to be included in _Amber_, are not real
  • but representative, as he discovered in several pieces broke for that
  • purpose. If so, the two famous Epigrams hereof in _Martial_ are but
  • Poetical, the _Pismire_ of _Brassavolus_ imaginary, and _Cardans
  • Mousoleum_ for a Flie, a meer phansie. But hereunto we know not how to
  • assent, as having met with some whose reals made good their
  • representments.
  • CHAPTER V
  • Compendiously of sundry other common Tenents, concerning Mineral and
  • Terreous Bodies, which examined, prove either false or dubious.
  • 1. And first we hear it in every mouth, and in many good Authors read
  • it, That a _Diamond_, which is the hardest of stones, not yielding unto
  • _Steel_, _Emery_, or any thing but its own powder, is yet made soft, or
  • broke by the blood of a Goat. Thus much is affirmed by _Pliny_,
  • _Solinus_, _Albertus_, _Cyprian_, _Austin_, _Isidore_, and many
  • Christian Writers, alluding herein unto the heart of man and the
  • precious bloud of our Saviour, who was typified by the Goat that was
  • slain, and the scape-Goat in the Wilderness; and at the effusion of
  • whose bloud, not only the hard hearts of his enemies relented, but the
  • stony rocks and vail of the Temple were shattered. But this I perceive
  • is easier affirmed then proved. For _Lapidaries_, and such as profess
  • the art of cutting this stone, do generally deny it; and they that seem
  • to countenance it, have in their deliveries so qualified it, that little
  • from thence of moment can be inferred for it. For first, the holy
  • Fathers, without a further enquiry did take it for granted, and rested
  • upon the authority of the first deliverers. As for _Albertus_, he
  • promiseth this effect, but conditionally, not except the Goat drink
  • wine, and be fed with _Siler montanum, petroselinum_, and such herbs as
  • are conceived of power to break the stone in the bladder. But the words
  • of _Pliny_, from whom most likely the rest at first derived it, if
  • strictly considered, do rather overthrow, then any way advantage this
  • effect. His words are these: _Hircino rumpitur sanguine, nec aliter quam
  • recenti, calidoque macerata, & sic quoque multis ictibus, tunc etiam
  • præterquam eximias incudes malleosque ferreos frangens_. That is, it is
  • broken with Goats blood, but not except it be fresh and warm, and that
  • not without many blows, and then also it will break the best Anvils and
  • Hammers of Iron. And answerable hereto, is the assertion of _Isidore_
  • and _Solinus_. By which account, a Diamond steeped in Goats bloud,
  • rather increaseth in hardness, then acquireth any softness by the
  • infusion; for the best we have are comminuible without it; and are so
  • far from breaking hammers, that they submit unto pistillation, and
  • resist not an ordinary pestle.
  • [Sidenote: Pulvis Lithontripticus.]
  • Upon this conceit arose perhaps the discovery of another; that the bloud
  • of a Goat was soveraign for the Stone, as it stands commended by many
  • good Writers, and brings up the composition in the powder of
  • _Nicolaus_, and the Electuary of the Queen of _Colein_. Or rather
  • because it was found an excellent medicine for the Stone, and its
  • ability commended by some to dissolve the hardest thereof; it might be
  • conceived by amplifying apprehensions, to be able to break a _Diamond_;
  • and so it came to be ordered that the Goat should be fed with
  • saxifragous herbs, and such as are conceived of power to break the
  • stone. However it were, as the effect is false in the one, so is it
  • surely very doubtful in the other. For although inwardly received it may
  • be very diuretick, and expulse the stone in the Kidneys, yet how it
  • should dissolve or break that in the bladder, will require a further
  • dispute; and perhaps would be more reasonably tried by a warm injection
  • thereof, then as it is commonly used. Wherein notwithstanding, we should
  • rather rely upon the urine in a castlings bladder, a resolution of Crabs
  • eyes, or the second distillation of Urine, as _Helmont_ hath commended;
  • or rather (if any such might be found) a Chylifactory menstruum or
  • digestive preparation drawn from species or individuals, whose stomacks
  • peculiarly dissolve lapideous bodies.
  • 2. _That Glass is poison_, according unto common conceit, I know not how
  • to grant. Not onely from the innocency of its ingredients, that is, fine
  • Sand, and the ashes of Glass-wort of Fearn, which in themselves are
  • harmless and useful: or because I find it by many commended for the
  • Stone, but also from experience, as having given unto Dogs above a dram
  • thereof, subtilly powdered in Butter and Paste, without any visible
  • disturbance.
  • [Sidenote: _Why Glass is commonly held to be poysonous._]
  • The conceit is surely grounded upon the visible mischief of Glass grosly
  • or coursly powdered, for that indeed is mortally noxious, and
  • effectually used by some to destroy Mice and Rats; for by reason of its
  • acuteness and angularity, it commonly excoriates the parts through which
  • it passeth, and solicits them unto a continual expulsion. Whereupon
  • there ensues fearful symptomes, not much unlike those which attend the
  • action of poison. From whence notwithstanding, we cannot with propriety
  • impose upon it that name, either by occult or elementary quality, which
  • he that concedeth will much enlarge the Catalogue or Lists of Poisons.
  • For many things, neither deleterious by substance or quality, are yet
  • destructive by figure, or some occasional activity. So are Leeches
  • destructive, and by some accounted poison; not properly, that is by
  • temperamental contrariety, occult form, or so much as elemental
  • repugnancy; but because being inwardly taken they fasten upon the veins,
  • and occasion an effusion of bloud, which cannot be easily stanched. So a
  • Sponge is mischievous, not in it self, for in its powder it is harmless:
  • but because being received into the stomach it swelleth, and occasioning
  • a continual distension, induceth a strangulation. So Pins, Needles, ears
  • of Rye or Barley may be poison. So _Daniel_ destroyed the Dragon by a
  • composition of three things, whereof neither was poison alone, nor
  • properly all together, that is, Pitch, Fat, and Hair, according as is
  • expressed in the History. Then _Daniel_ took Pitch, and Fat, and Hair,
  • and did seeth them together, and made lumps thereof, these he put in the
  • Dragons mouth, and so he burst asunder. That is, the Fat and Pitch being
  • cleaving bodies, and the Hair continually extimulating the parts: by the
  • action of the one, Nature was provoked to expell, but by the tenacity of
  • the other forced to retain: so that there being left no passage in or
  • out, the Dragon brake in pieces. It must therefore be taken of
  • grosly-powdered Glass, what is delivered by _Grevinus_: and from the
  • same must that mortal dysentery proceed which is related by
  • _Sanctorius_. And in the same sense shall we only allow a _Diamond_ to
  • be poison; and whereby as some relate _Paracelsus_ himself was poisoned.
  • So even the precious fragments and cordial gems which are of frequent
  • use in Physick, and in themselves confessed of useful faculties,
  • received in gross and angular Powders, may so offend the bowels, as to
  • procure desperate languors, or cause most dangerous fluxes.
  • That Glass may be rendred malleable and pliable unto the hammer, many
  • conceive, and some make little doubt, when they read in _Dio_, _Pliny_,
  • and _Petronius_, that one unhappily effected it for _Tiberius_. Which
  • notwithstanding must needs seem strange unto such as consider, that
  • bodies are ductile from a tenacious humidity, which so holdeth the parts
  • together; that though they dilate or extend, they part not from each
  • others. That bodies run into Glass, when the volatile parts are exhaled,
  • and the continuating humour separated: the Salt and Earth, that is, the
  • fixed parts remaining. And therefore vitrification maketh bodies
  • brittle, as destroying the viscous humours which hinder the disruption
  • of parts. Which may be verified even in the bodies of Metals. For Glass
  • of Lead or Tin is fragile, when that glutinous Sulphur hath been fired
  • out, which made their bodies ductile.
  • He that would most probably attempt it, must experiment upon Gold. Whose
  • fixed and flying parts are so conjoined, whose Sulphur and continuating
  • principle is so united unto the Salt, that some may be hoped to remain
  • to hinder fragility after vitrification. But how to proceed, though
  • after frequent corrosion, as that upon the agency of fire, it should
  • not revive into its proper body before it comes to vitrifie, will prove
  • no easie discovery.
  • 3. That Gold inwardly taken, either in substance, infusion, decoction or
  • extinction, is a cordial of great efficacy, in sundry Medical uses,
  • although a practice much used, is also much questioned, and by no man
  • determined beyond dispute. There are hereof I perceive two extream
  • opinions; some excessively magnifying it, and probably beyond its
  • deserts; others extreamly vilifying it, and perhaps below its demerits.
  • Some affirming it a powerful Medicine in many diseases, others averring
  • that so used, it is effectual in none: and in this number are very
  • eminent Physicians, _Erastus_, _Duretus_, _Rondeletius_, _Brassavolus_
  • and many other, who beside the strigments and sudorous adhesions from
  • mens hands, acknowledge that nothing proceedeth from Gold in the usual
  • decoction thereof. Now the capital reason that led men unto this
  • opinion, was their observation of the inseparable nature of Gold; it
  • being excluded in the same quantity as it was received, without
  • alteration of parts, or diminution of its gravity.
  • Now herein to deliver somewhat which in a middle way may be entertained;
  • we first affirm, that the substance of Gold is invincible by the
  • powerfullest action of natural heat; and that not only alimentally in a
  • substantial mutation, but also medicamentally in any corporeal
  • conversion. As is very evident, not only in the swallowing of golden
  • bullets, but in the lesser and foliate divisions thereof: passing the
  • stomach and guts even as it doth the throat, that is, without abatement
  • of weight or consistence. So that it entereth not the veins with those
  • electuaries, wherein it is mixed: but taketh leave of the permeant
  • parts, at the mouths of the _Meseraicks_, or Lacteal Vessels, and
  • accompanieth the inconvertible portion unto the siege. Nor is its
  • substantial conversion expectible in any composition or aliment wherein
  • it is taken. And therefore that was truly a starving absurdity, which
  • befel the wishes of _Midas_. And little credit there is to be given to
  • the golden Hen, related by _Wendlerus_. So in the extinction of Gold, we
  • must not conceive it parteth with any of its salt or dissoluble
  • principle thereby, as we may affirm of Iron; for the parts thereof are
  • fixed beyond division, nor will they separate upon the strongest test of
  • fire. This we affirm of pure Gold: for that which is currant and passeth
  • in stamp amongst us, by reason of its allay, which is a proportion of
  • Silver or Copper mixed therewith, is actually dequantitated by fire, and
  • possibly by frequent extinction.
  • Secondly, Although the substance of Gold be not immuted or its gravity
  • sensibly decreased, yet that from thence some vertue may proceed either
  • in substantial reception or infusion we cannot safely deny. For possible
  • it is that bodies may emit vertue and operation without abatement of
  • weight; as is evident in the Loadstone, whose effluencies are continual,
  • and communicable without a minoration of gravity. And the like is
  • observable in Bodies electrical, whose emissions are less subtile. So
  • will a Diamond or Saphire emit an effluvium sufficient to move the
  • Needle or a Straw, without diminution of weight. Nor will polished Amber
  • although it send forth a gross and corporal exhalement, be found a long
  • time defective upon the exactest scales. Which is more easily
  • conceivable in a continued and tenacious effluvium, whereof a great part
  • retreats into its body.
  • Thirdly, If amulets do work by emanations from their bodies, upon those
  • parts whereunto they are appended, and are not yet observed to abate
  • their weight; if they produce visible and real effects by imponderous
  • and invisible emissions, it may be unjust to deny the possible efficacy
  • of Gold, in the non-omission of weight, or deperdition of any ponderous
  • particles.
  • Lastly, Since _Stibium_ or Glass of Antimony, since also its _Regulus_
  • will manifestly communicate unto Water or Wine, a purging and vomitory
  • operation; and yet the body it self, though after iterated infusions,
  • cannot be found to abate either vertue or weight: we shall not deny but
  • Gold may do the like, that is, impart some effluences unto the infusion,
  • which carry with them the separable subtilties thereof.
  • That therefore this Metal thus received, hath any undeniable effect, we
  • shall not imperiously determine, although beside the former experiments,
  • many more may induce us to believe it. But since the point is dubious
  • and not yet authentically decided, it will be no discretion to depend on
  • disputable remedies; but rather in cases of known danger, to have
  • recourse unto medicines of known and approved activity. For, beside the
  • benefit accruing unto the sick, hereby may be avoided a gross and
  • frequent errour, commonly committed in the use of doubtful remedies,
  • conjointly with those which are of approved vertues; that is to impute
  • the cure unto the conceited remedy, or place it on that whereon they
  • place their opinion. Whose operation although it be nothing, or its
  • concurrence not considerable, yet doth it obtain the name of the whole
  • cure: and carrieth often the honour of the capital energie, which had no
  • finger in it.
  • Herein exact and critical trial should be made by publick enjoinment,
  • whereby determination might be setled beyond debate: for since thereby
  • not only the bodies of men, but great Treasures might be preserved, it
  • is not only an errour of Physick, but folly of State, to doubt thereof
  • any longer.
  • 4. That a pot full of ashes, will still contain as much water as it
  • would without them, although by _Aristotle_ in his Problems taken for
  • granted, and so received by most, is not effectable upon the strictest
  • experiment I could ever make. For when the airy intersticies are filled,
  • and as much of the salt of the ashes as the water will imbibe is
  • dissolved, there remains a gross and terreous portion at the bottom,
  • which will possess a space by it self, according whereto there will
  • remain a quantity of Water not receivable; so will it come to pass in a
  • pot of salt, although decrepitated; and so also in a pot of Snow. For so
  • much it will want in reception, as its solution taketh up, according
  • unto the bulk whereof, there will remain a portion of Water not to be
  • admitted. So a Glass stuffed with pieces of Sponge will want about a
  • sixth part of what it would receive without it. So Sugar will not
  • dissolve beyond the capacity of the Water, nor a Metal in _aqua fortis_
  • be corroded beyond its reception. And so a pint of salt of Tartar
  • exposed unto a moist air until it dissolve, will make far more liquor,
  • or as some term it oyl, then the former measure will contain.
  • Nor is it only the exclusion of air by water, or repletion of cavities
  • possessed thereby, which causeth a pot of ashes to admit so great a
  • quantity of Water, but also the solution of the salt of the ashes into
  • the body of the dissolvent. So a pot of ashes will receive somewhat more
  • of hot Water then of cold, for the warm water imbibeth more of the
  • Salt; and a vessel of ashes more then one of pin-dust or filings of
  • Iron; and a Glass full of Water will yet drink in a proportion of Salt
  • or Sugar without overflowing.
  • Nevertheless to make the experiment with most advantage, and in which
  • sense it approacheth nearest the truth, it must be made in ashes
  • throughly burnt and well reverberated by fire, after the salt thereof
  • hath been drawn out by iterated decoctions. For then the body being
  • reduced nearer unto Earth, and emptied of all other principles, which
  • had former ingression unto it, becometh more porous, and greedily
  • drinketh in water. He that hath beheld what quantity of Lead the test of
  • saltless ashes will imbibe, upon the refining of Silver, hath
  • encouragement to think it will do very much more in water.
  • [Sidenote: _The Ingredients of Gunpowder._]
  • 5. Of white powder and such as is discharged without report, there is no
  • small noise in the World: but how far agreeable unto truth, few I
  • perceive are able to determine. Herein therefore to satisfie the doubts
  • of some, and amuse the credulity of others, We first declare, that
  • Gunpowder consisteth of three ingredients, Salt-petre, Small-coal, and
  • Brimstone. Salt-petre although it be also natural and found in several
  • places, yet is that of common use an artificial Salt, drawn from the
  • infusion of salt Earth, as that of Stales, Stables, Dove-houses,
  • Cellers, and other covered places, where the rain can neither dissolve,
  • nor the Sun approach to resolve it. Brimstone is a Mineral body of fat
  • and inflamable parts, and this is either used crude, and called Sulphur
  • Vive, and is of a sadder colour; or after depuration, such as we have in
  • magdeleons or rolls, of a lighter yellow. Small-coal is known unto all,
  • and for this use is made of _Sallow_, _Willow_, _Alder_, _Hazel_, and
  • the like; which three proportionably mixed, tempered, and formed into
  • granulary bodies, do make up that Powder which is in use for Guns.
  • Now all these, although they bear a share in the discharge, yet have
  • they distinct intentions, and different offices in the composition. From
  • Brimstone proceedeth the piercing and powerful firing; for Small-coal
  • and Petre together will onely spit, nor vigorously continue the
  • ignition. From Small-coal ensueth the black colour and quick accension;
  • for neither Brimstone nor Petre, although in Powder, will take fire like
  • Small-coal, nor will they easily kindle upon the sparks of a Flint; as
  • neither will _Camphire_, a body very inflamable: but Small-coal is
  • equivalent to Tinder, and serveth to light the Sulphur. It may also
  • serve to diffuse the ignition through every part of the mixture; and
  • being of more gross and fixed parts, may seem to moderate the activity
  • of Salt-petre, and prevent too hasty rarefaction. From Salt-petre
  • proceedeth the force and the report; for Sulphur and Small-coal mixed
  • will not take fire with noise, or exilition, and Powder which is made of
  • impure and greasie Petre hath but a weak emission, and giveth a faint
  • report. And therefore in the three sorts of Powder the strongest
  • containeth most Salt-petre, and the proportion thereof is about ten
  • parts of Petre unto one of Coal and Sulphur.
  • But the immediate cause of the Report is the vehement commotion of the
  • air upon the sudden and violent eruption of the Powder; for that being
  • suddenly fired, and almost altogether, upon this high rarefaction,
  • requireth by many degrees a greater space then before its body occupied;
  • but finding resistance, it actively forceth his way, and by concusion of
  • the air occasioneth the Report. Now with what violence it forceth upon
  • the air, may easily be conceived, if we admit what _Cardan_ affirmeth,
  • that the Powder fired doth occupy an hundred times a greater space then
  • its own bulk; or rather what _Snellius_ more exactly accounteth; that it
  • exceedeth its former space no less then 12000 and 500 times. [SN: _The
  • cause of Thunder._] And this is the reason not only of this fulminating
  • report of Guns, but may resolve the cause of those terrible cracks, and
  • affrighting noises of Heaven; that is, the nitrous and sulphureous
  • exhalations, set on fire in the Clouds; whereupon requiring a larger
  • place, they force out their way, not only with the breaking of the
  • cloud, but the laceration of the air about it. [SN: _The greatest
  • distance of the Clouds._] When if the matter be spirituous, and the
  • cloud compact, the noise is great and terrible: If the cloud be thin,
  • and the Materials weak, the eruption is languid, ending in coruscations
  • and flashes without noise, although but at the distance of two miles;
  • which is esteemed the remotest distance of clouds. And therefore such
  • lightnings do seldom any harm. And therefore also it is prodigious to
  • have thunder in a clear sky, as is observably recorded in some
  • Histories.
  • [Sidenote: _The cause of Earthquakes._]
  • From the like cause may also proceed subterraneous Thunders and
  • Earthquakes, when sulphureous and nitreous veins being fired, upon
  • rarefaction do force their way through bodies that resist them. Where if
  • the kindled matter be plentiful, and the Mine close and firm about it,
  • subversion of Hills and Towns doth sometimes follow: If scanty, weak,
  • and the Earth hollow or porous, there only ensueth some faint concussion
  • or tremulous and quaking Motion. Surely, a main reason why the Ancients
  • were so imperfect in the doctrine of Meteors, was their ignorance of
  • Gunpowder and Fire-works, which best discover the causes of many
  • thereof.
  • Now therefore he that would destroy the report of Powder, must work upon
  • the Petre; he that would exchange the colour, must think how to alter
  • the Small-coal. For the one, that is, to make white Powder, it is surely
  • many ways feasible: The best I know is by the powder of rotten Willows,
  • Spunk, or Touch-wood prepared, might perhaps make it Russet: and some,
  • as _Beringuccio_ [SN: _In his_ Pyrotechnia.] affirmeth, have promised to
  • make it Red. All which notwithstanding doth little concern the Report,
  • for that, as we have shewed, depends on another Ingredient. And
  • therefore also under the colour of black, this principle is very
  • variable; for it is made not onely by _Willow_, _Alder_, _Hazel_, etc.
  • But some above all commend the coals of _Flax_ and _Rushes_, and some
  • also contend the same may be effected with Tinder.
  • As for the other, that is, to destroy the Report, it is reasonably
  • attempted but two ways; either by quite leaving out, or else by
  • silencing the Salt-petre. How to abate the vigour thereof, or silence
  • its bombulation, a way is promised by _Porta_, not only in general terms
  • by some fat bodies, but in particular by _Borax_ and butter mixed in a
  • due proportion; which saith he, will so go off as scarce to be heard by
  • the discharger; and indeed plentifully mixed, it will almost take off
  • the Report, and also the force of the charge. That it may be thus made
  • without Salt-petre, I have met with but one example, that is, of
  • _Alphonsus_ Duke of _Ferrara_ [SN: De examine Salium.], who in the
  • relation of _Brassavolus_ and _Cardan_, invented such a Powder as would
  • discharge a bullet without Report.
  • That therefore white Powder there may be, there is no absurdity; that
  • also such a one as may give no report, we will not deny a possibility.
  • But this however, contrived either with or without Salt-petre, will
  • surely be of little force, and the effects thereof no way to be feared:
  • For as it omits of Report so will it of effectual exclusion, and so the
  • charge be of little force which is excluded. For thus much is reported
  • of that famous Powder of _Alphonsus_, which was not of force enough to
  • kill a Chicken, according to the delivery of _Brassavolus. Jamque pulvis
  • inventus est qui glandem sine bombo projicit, nec tamen vehementer ut
  • vel pullum interficere possit._
  • It is not to be denied, there are ways to discharge a bullet, not only
  • with Powder that makes no noise, but without any Powder at all; as is
  • done by Water and Wind-guns, but these afford no fulminating Report, and
  • depend on single principles. And even in ordinary Powder there are
  • pretended other ways to alter the noise and strength of the discharge;
  • and the best, if not only way, consists in the quality of the Nitre: for
  • as for other ways which make either additions or alterations in the
  • Powder, or charge, I find therein no effect: That unto every pound of
  • Sulphur, an adjection of one ounce of Quick-silver, or unto every pound
  • of Petre, one ounce of _Sal Armoniac_ will much intend the force, and
  • consequently the Report, as _Beringuccio_ hath delivered, I find no
  • success therein. That a piece of _Opium_ will dead the force and blow,
  • as some have promised, I find herein no such peculiarity, no more then
  • in any Gum or viscose body: and as much effect there is to be found from
  • _Scammony_. That a bullet dipped in oyl by preventing the transpiration
  • of air, will carry farther, and pierce deeper, as _Porta_ affirmeth, my
  • experience cannot discern. That Quick-silver is more destructive then
  • shot, is surely not to be made out; for it will scarce make any
  • penetration, and discharged from a Pistol, will hardly pierce through a
  • Parchment. That Vinegar, spirits of Wine, or the distilled water of
  • Orange-pills, wherewith the Powder is tempered, are more effectual unto
  • the Report than common Water, as some do promise, I shall not affirm;
  • but may assuredly more conduce unto the preservation and durance of the
  • Powder, as _Cataneo_ hath well observed. [SN: Cat. avertimenti intorne a
  • un Bombardiero.]
  • That the heads of arrows and bullets have been discharged with that
  • force, as to melt or grow red hot in their flight, though commonly
  • received, and taken up by _Aristotle_ in his Meteors, is not so easily
  • allowable by any, who shall consider, that a Bullet of Wax will mischief
  • without melting; that an Arrow or Bullet discharged against Linen or
  • Paper do not set them on fire; and hardly apprehend how an Iron should
  • grow red hot, since the swiftest motion at hand will not keep one red
  • that hath been made red by fire; as may be observed in swinging a red
  • hot Iron about, or fastning it into a Wheel; which under that motion
  • will sooner grow cold then without it. That a Bullet also mounts upward
  • upon the horizontall or point-blank discharge, many Artists do not
  • allow: who contend that it describeth a parabolical and bowing line, by
  • reason of its natural gravity inclining it always downward.
  • But, Beside the prevalence from Salt-petre, as Master-ingredient in the
  • mixture; Sulphur may hold a greater use in the composition and further
  • activity in the exclusion, then is by most conceived. For Sulphur vive
  • makes better Powder then common Sulphur, which nevertheless is of a
  • quick accension. For Small-coal, Salt-petre, and _Camphire_ made into
  • Powder will be of little force, wherein notwithstanding there wants not
  • the accending ingredient. And _Camphire_ though it flame well, yet will
  • not flush so lively, or defecate Salt-petre, if you inject it thereon,
  • like Sulphur; as in the preparation of _Sal prunellæ_. And lastly,
  • though many ways may be found to light this Powder, yet is there none I
  • know to make a strong and vigorous Powder of Salt-petre, without the
  • admixtion of Sulphur. _Arsenic_ red and yellow, that is _Orpement_ and
  • _Sandarach_ may perhaps do something, as being inflamable and containing
  • Sulphur in them; but containing also a salt, and mercurial mixtion, they
  • will be of little effect; and white or crystalline _Arsenic_ of less,
  • for that being artificial, and sublimed with salt, will not endure
  • flammation.
  • This Antipathy or contention between Salt-petre and Sulphur upon an
  • actual fire, in their compleat and distinct bodies, is also manifested
  • in their preparations, and bodies which invisibly contain them. Thus in
  • the preparation of _Crocus Metallorum_, the matter kindleth and flusheth
  • like Gunpowder, wherein notwithstanding, there is nothing but _Antimony_
  • and Salt-petre. But this may proceed from the Sulphur of _Antimony_, not
  • enduring the society of Salt-petre; for after three or four accensions,
  • through a fresh addition of Petre, the Powder will flush no more, for
  • the sulphur of the _Antimony_ is quite exhaled. Thus Iron in _Aqua
  • fortis_ will fall into ebullition, with noise and emication, as also a
  • crass and fumid exhalation, which are caused from this combat of the
  • sulphur of Iron with the acid and nitrous spirits of _Aqua fortis_. So
  • is it also in _Aurum fulminans_, or Powder of Gold dissolved in _Aqua
  • Regis_, and precipitated with oyl of _Tartar_, which will kindle without
  • an actual fire, and afford a report like Gun-powder; that is not as
  • _Crollius_ affirmeth from any Antipathy between _Sal Armoniac_ [SN: De
  • consensu Chymicorum, etc.]and _Tartar_, but rather between the nitrous
  • spirits of _Aqua Regis_, commixed _per minima_ with the sulphur of Gold,
  • as _Sennertus_ hath observed.
  • [Sidenote: _How Coral of a Plant becomes a Stone._]
  • 6. That _Coral_ (which is a _Lithophyton_ or stone-plant, and groweth at
  • the bottom of the Sea) is soft under Water, but waxeth hard in the air,
  • although the assertion of _Dioscorides_, _Pliny_, and consequently
  • _Solinus_, _Isidore_, _Rueus_, and many others, and stands believed by
  • most, we have some reason to doubt, especially if we conceive with
  • common Believers, a total softness at the bottom, and this induration to
  • be singly made by the air, not only from so sudden a petrifaction and
  • strange induration, not easily made out from the qualities of air, but
  • because we find it rejected by experimental enquiries. _Johannes
  • Beguinus_ [SN: _In the French Copy._] in his Chapter of the tincture of
  • _Coral_ undertakes to clear the World of this Error, from the express
  • experiment of _John Baptista de Nicole_, who was Overseer of the
  • gathering of _Coral_ upon the Kingdom of _Thunis_. This Gentleman, saith
  • he, desirous to find the nature of _Coral_, and to be resolved how it
  • groweth at the bottom of the Sea, caused a man to go down no less then a
  • hundred fathom, with express to take notice whether it were hard or soft
  • in the place where it groweth. Who returning, brought in each hand a
  • branch of _Coral_, affirming it was as hard at the bottom, as in the air
  • where he delivered it. The same was also confirmed by a trial of his
  • own, handling it a fathom under water before it felt the air. _Boetius_
  • in his Tract _De Gemmis_, is of the same opinion, not ascribing its
  • concretion unto the air, but the coagulating spirits of Salt, and
  • lapidifical juice of the Sea, which entring the parts of that Plant,
  • overcomes its vegetability, and converts it into a lapideous substance.
  • And this, saith he, doth happen when the Plant is ready to decay; for
  • all _Coral_ is not hard, and in many concreted Plants some parts remain
  • unpetrified, that is the quick and livelier parts remain as Wood, and
  • were never yet converted. Now that Plants and ligneous bodies may
  • indurate under Water without approachment of air, we have experiment in
  • _Coralline_, with many Coralloidal concretions; and that little stony
  • Plant which Mr. _Johnson_ nameth, _Hippuris coralloides_, and _Gesner_,
  • _foliis mansu Arenosis_, we have found in fresh water, which is the less
  • concretive portion of that Element. We have also with us the visible
  • petrification of Wood in many waters, whereof so much as is covered with
  • water converteth into stone; as much as is above it and in the air,
  • retaineth the form of Wood, and continueth as before.
  • [Sidenote: Gans _Histor. Coral._]
  • Now though in a middle way we may concede, that some are soft and others
  • hard; yet whether all _Coral_ were first a woody substance, and
  • afterward converted; or rather some thereof were never such, but from
  • the sprouting spirit of Salt, were able even in their stony natures to
  • ramifie and send forth branches; as is observable in some stones, in
  • silver and metallick bodies, is not without some question. And such at
  • least might some of those be, which _Fiaroumti_ observed to grow upon
  • Bricks at the bottom of the Sea, upon the coast of _Barbaric_.
  • [Sidenote: _Of what matter the_ China _dishes be made_.]
  • 7. We are not throughly resolved concerning _Porcellane_ or _China_
  • dishes, that according to common belief they are made of Earth, which
  • lieth in preparation about an hundred years under ground; for the
  • relations thereof are not onely divers, but contrary, and Authors agree
  • not herein. _Guido Pancirollus_ will have them made of Egg-shells,
  • Lobster-shells, and _Gypsum_ laid up in the Earth the space of 80
  • years: of the same affirmation is _Scaliger_, and the common opinion of
  • most. _Ramuzius_ in his Navigations is of a contrary assertion, that
  • they are made out of Earth, not laid under ground, but hardned in the
  • Sun and Wind, the space of forty years. But _Gonzales de Mendoza_, a man
  • imployed into _China_ from _Philip_ the second King of _Spain_, upon
  • enquiry and ocular experience, delivered a way different from all these.
  • For inquiring into the artifice thereof, he found they were made of a
  • Chalky Earth; which beaten and steeped in water, affordeth a cream or
  • fatness on the top, and a gross subsidence at the bottom; out of the
  • cream or superfluitance, the finest dishes, saith he, are made, out of
  • the residence thereof the courser; which being formed, they gild or
  • paint, and not after an hundred years, but presently commit unto the
  • furnace. This, saith he, is known by experience, and more probable then
  • what _Odoardus Barbosa_ hath delivered, that they are made of shells,
  • and buried under earth an hundred years. And answerable in all points
  • hereto, is the relation of _Linschotten_, a diligent enquirer, in his
  • Oriental Navigations. Later confirmation may be had from _Alvarez_ the
  • Jesuit, who lived long in those parts, in his relations of _China_. That
  • _Porcellane_ Vessels were made but in one Town of the Province of
  • _Chiamsi_: That the earth was brought out of other Provinces, but for
  • the advantage of water, which makes them more polite and perspicuous,
  • they were only made in this. That they were wrought and fashioned like
  • those of other Countries, whereof some were tincted blew, some red,
  • others yellow, of which colour only they presented unto the King.
  • The latest account hereof may be found in the voyage of the Dutch
  • Embassadors sent from _Batavia_ unto the Emperour of _China_, printed
  • in _French_ 1665, which plainly informeth, that the Earth whereof
  • _Porcellane_ dishes are made, is brought from the Mountains of _Hoang_,
  • and being formed into square loaves, is brought by water, and marked
  • with the Emperours Seal: that the Earth it self is very lean, fine, and
  • shining like Sand: and that it is prepared and fashioned after the same
  • manner which the _Italians_ observe in the fine Earthen Vessels of
  • _Faventia_ or _Fuenca_: that they are so reserved concerning that
  • Artifice, that 'tis only revealed from Father unto Son: that they are
  • painted with _Indico_ baked in a fire for fifteen days together, and
  • with very dry and not smoaking Wood: which when the Author had seen he
  • could hardly contain from laughter at the common opinion above rejected
  • by us.
  • Now if any enquire, why being so commonly made, and in so short a time,
  • they are become so scarce, or not at all to be had? The Answer is given
  • by these last Relators, that under great penalties it is forbidden to
  • carry the first sort out of the Country. And of those surely the
  • properties must be verified, which by _Scaliger_ and others are ascribed
  • unto China-dishes: That they admit no poison, that they strike fire,
  • that they will grow hot no higher then the liquor in them ariseth. For
  • such as pass amongst us, and under the name of the finest, will only
  • strike fire, but not discover _Aconite_, _Mercury_, or _Arsenic_; but
  • may be useful in dysenteries and fluxes beyond the other.
  • 8. Whether a Carbuncle (which is esteemed the best and biggest of
  • Rubies) doth flame in the dark, or shine like a coal in the night,
  • though generally agreed on by common Believers, is very much questioned
  • by many. By _Milius_, who accounts it a Vulgar Error: By the learned
  • _Boetius_, who could not find it verified in that famous one of
  • _Rodulphus_, which was as big as an Egg, and esteemed the best in
  • _Europe_. Wherefore although we dispute not the possibility, and the
  • like is said to have been observed in some Diamonds, yet whether herein
  • there be not too high an apprehension, and above its natural radiancy,
  • is not without just doubt: however it be granted a very splendid _Gem_,
  • and whose sparks may somewhat resemble the glances of fire, and
  • Metaphorically deserve that name. And therefore when it is conceived by
  • some, that this Stone in the Brest-plate of _Aaron_ respected the Tribe
  • of _Dan_, who burnt the City of _Laish_; and _Sampson_ of the same
  • Tribe, who fired the Corn of the _Philistims_; in some sense it may be
  • admitted, and is no intollerable conception.
  • As for that _Indian_ Stone that shined so brightly in the Night, and
  • pretended to have been shewn to many in the Court of _France_, as
  • _Andreus Chioccus_ hath declared out of _Thuanus_, it proved but an
  • imposture, as that eminent Philosopher _Licetus_ [SN: Licet de quæsit.
  • per Epistolas.] hath discovered, and therefore in the revised Editions
  • of _Thuanus_, it is not to be found. [SN: Licet de lapide Bononiensi.]
  • As for the _Phosphorus_ or _Bononian_ Stone, which exposed unto the Sun,
  • and then closely shut up, will afterward afford a light in the dark; it
  • is of unlike consideration, for that requireth calcination or reduction
  • into a dry powder by fire, whereby it imbibeth the light in the vaporous
  • humidity of the air about it, and therefore maintaineth its light not
  • long, but goes out when the vaporous vehicle is consumed.
  • 9. Whether the _Ætites_ or _Eagle_-stone hath that eminent property to
  • promote delivery or restrain abortion, respectively applied to lower or
  • upward parts of the body, we shall not discourage common practice by our
  • question: but whether they answer the account thereof, as to be taken
  • out of _Eagles_ nests, co-operating in Women unto such effects, as they
  • are conceived toward the young _Eagles_: or whether the single signature
  • of one stone included in the matrix and belly of another, were not
  • sufficient at first, to derive this vertue of the pregnant Stone, upon
  • others in impregnation, may yet be farther considered. Many sorts there
  • are of this ratling Stone, beside the _Geodes_, containing a softer
  • substance in it. Divers are found in _England_, and one we met with on
  • the Sea-shore, but because many of eminent use are pretended to be
  • brought from _Iseland_, wherein are divers airies of _Eagles_, we cannot
  • omit to deliver what we received from a learned person in that Country,
  • [SN: Theodorus Ionas Hitterdalæ Pastor.] _Ætites an in nidis Aquilarum
  • aliquando fuerit repertus, nescio. Nostra certè memoria, etiam
  • inquirentibus non contigit invenisse, quare in fabulis habendum_.
  • 10. Terrible apprehensions and answerable unto their names, are raised
  • of _Fayrie_ stones, and _Elves_ spurs, found commonly with us in Stone,
  • Chalk, and Marl-pits, which notwithstanding are no more than
  • _Echinometrites_ and _Belemnites_, the Sea-Hedge-Hog, and the
  • _Dart_-stone, arising from some siliceous Roots, and softer then that of
  • Flint, the Master-stone, lying more regularly in courses, and arising
  • from the primary and strongest spirit of the Mine. Of the _Echinites_,
  • such as are found in Chalk-pits are white, glassie, and built upon a
  • Chalky inside; some of an hard and flinty substance, are found in
  • Stone-pits and elsewhere. Common opinion commendeth them for the Stone,
  • but are most practically used against Films in Horses eyes.
  • 11. Lastly, He must have more heads than _Rome_ had Hills, that makes
  • out half of those vertues ascribed unto stones, and their not only
  • Medical, but Magical proprieties, which are to be found in Authors of
  • great Name. In _Psellus_, _Serapion_, _Evax_, _Albertus_, _Aleazar_,
  • _Marbodeus_; in _Maiolus_, _Rueus_, _Mylius_, and many more.
  • That _Lapis Lasuli_ hath in it a purgative faculty we know; [SN:
  • _Against poison.] that _Bezoar_ is Antidotal, [SN: Provoking Urine._]
  • _Lapis Judaicus_ diuretical, [SN: _Against the Falling sickness._]
  • _Coral_ Antepileptical, we will not deny. That _Cornelians_, _Jaspis_,
  • _Heliotropes_, and Blood-stones, may be of vertue to those intentions
  • they are implied, experience and visible effects will make us grant. But
  • that an _Amethyst_ prevents inebriation, that an _Emerald_ will break if
  • worn in copulation. That a _Diamond_ laid under the pillow, will betray
  • the incontinency of a wife. That a _Saphire_ is preservative against
  • inchantments; that the fume of an _Agath_ will avert a tempest, or the
  • wearing of a _Crysoprase_ make one out love with Gold; as some have
  • delivered, we are yet, I confess, to believe, and in that infidelity are
  • likely to end our days. And therefore, they which in the explication of
  • the two Beryls upon the _Ephod_, or the twelve stones in the Rational or
  • Brest-plate of _Aaron_, or those twelve which garnished the wall of the
  • holy City in the Apocalyps, have drawn their significations from such as
  • these; or declared their symbolical verities from such traditional
  • falsities, have surely corrupted the sincerity of their Analogies, or
  • misunderstood the mystery of their intentions.
  • Most men conceive that the twelve stones in _Aarons_ brestplate made a
  • Jewel surpassing any, and not to be parallel'd; which notwithstanding
  • will hardly be made out from the description of the Text, for the names
  • of the Tribes were engraven thereon, which must notably abate their
  • lustre. Beside, it is not clear made out that the best of Gemms, a
  • Diamond was amongst them; nor is to be found in the list thereof, set
  • down by the _Jerusalem Thargum_, wherein we find the darker stones of
  • _Sardius_, _Sardonix_, and _Jasper_; and if we receive them under those
  • names wherein they are usually described, it is not hard to contrive a
  • more illustrious and splendent Jewel. But being not ordained for meer
  • lustre by diaphanous and pure tralucencies, their mysterious
  • significations became more considerable then their Gemmary substances;
  • and those no doubt did nobly answer the intention of the Institutor.
  • Beside some may doubt whether there be twelve distinct species of noble
  • tralucent Gemms in nature, at least yet known unto us, and such as may
  • not be referred unto some of those in high esteem among us, which come
  • short of the number of twelve; which to make up we must find out some
  • others to match and join with the Diamond, _Beryl_, _Saphyr_, _Emerald_,
  • _Amethyst_, _Topaz_, _Crysolit_, _Jacynth_, _Ruby_, and if we may admit
  • it in this number, the Oriental Gianat.
  • CHAPTER VI
  • Of sundry Tenets concerning Vegetables or Plants, which examined,
  • prove either false or dubious.
  • 1. Many Mola's and false conceptions there are of _Mandrakes_, the first
  • from great Antiquity, conceiveth the Root thereof resembleth the shape
  • of Man; which is a conceit not to be made out by ordinary inspection, or
  • any other eyes, then such as regarding the Clouds, behold them in
  • shapes conformable to pre-apprehensions.
  • Now whatever encouraged the first invention, there have not been wanting
  • many ways of its promotion. The first a Catachrestical and far derived
  • similitude it holds with Man; that is, in a bifurcation or division of
  • the Root into two parts, which some are content to call Thighs; whereas
  • notwithstanding they are oft-times three, and when but two, commonly so
  • complicated and crossed, that men for this deceit are fain to effect
  • their design in other plants; And as fair a resemblance is often found
  • in _Carrots_, _Parsnips_, _Briony_, and many others. There are, I
  • confess, divers Plants which carry about them not only the shape of
  • parts, but also of whole Animals, but surely not all thereof, unto whom
  • this conformity is imputed. Whoever shall peruse the signatures of
  • _Crollius_, or rather the Phytognomy of _Porta_, and strictly observe
  • how vegetable Realities are commonly forced into Animal Representations,
  • may easily perceive in very many, the semblance is but postulatory, and
  • must have a more assimilating phansie then mine to make good many
  • thereof.
  • Illiterate heads have been led on by the name [SN: Μάνδρα, Spelunca.],
  • which in the first syllable expresseth its Representation; but others
  • have better observed the Laws of _Etymology_, and deduced it from a word
  • of the same language, because it delighteth to grow in obscure and shady
  • places; which derivation, although we shall not stand to maintain, yet
  • the other seemeth answerable unto the Etymologies of many Authors, who
  • often confound such nominal Notations. Not to enquire beyond our own
  • profession, the Latine Physitians which most adhered unto the _Arabick_
  • way, have often failed herein; particularly _Valescus de Tarranta_, [SN:
  • _In the old Edition._] a received Physitian, in whose _Philonium_ or
  • Medical practice these may be observed: _Diarhea_, saith he, _Quia
  • pluries venit in die. Herisepela, quasi hærens pilis, Emorrohis, ab
  • emach sanguis & morrohis quod est cadere. Lithargia à Litos quod est
  • oblivio & Targus morbus, Scotomia à Scotus quod est videre, & mias
  • musca. Opthalmia ab opus Græce quod est succus, & Talmon quod est
  • occulus. Paralisis, quasi læsio partis. Fistula à fos sonus & stolon
  • quod est emissio, quasi emissio soni vel vocis._ Which are derivations
  • as strange indeed as the other, and hardly to be parallel'd elsewhere;
  • confirming not only the words of one language with another, but creating
  • such as were never yet in any.
  • The received distinction and common Notation by Sexes, hath also
  • promoted the conceit; for true it is, that _Herbalists_ from ancient
  • times have thus distinguished them, naming that the Male, whose leaves
  • are lighter, and Fruit and Apples rounder; but this is properly no
  • generative division, but rather some note of distinction in colour,
  • figure or operation. For though _Empedocles_ affirm, there is a mixt,
  • and undivided Sex in Vegetables; and _Scaliger_ upon _Aristotle_ [SN: De
  • Plantis.], doth favourably explain that opinion; yet will it not consist
  • with the common and ordinary acception, nor yet with _Aristotles_
  • definition. For if that be Male which generates in another, that Female
  • which procreates in it self; if it be understood of Sexes conjoined, all
  • Plants are Female; and if of disjoined and congressive generation, there
  • is no Male or Female in them at all.
  • [Sidenote: _The impostures touching the Root of Mandrake._]
  • But the Atlas or main Axis which supported this opinion, was dayly
  • experience, and the visible testimony of sense. For many there are in
  • several parts of _Europe_, who carry about Roots and sell them unto
  • ignorant people, which handsomely make out the shape of Man or Woman.
  • But these are not productions of Nature, but contrivances of Art, as
  • divers have noted, and _Mathiolus_ plainly detected, who learned this
  • way of Trumpery from a vagabond cheater lying under his cure for the
  • French disease. His words were these, and may determine the point, _Sed
  • profecto vanum & fabulosum, etc._ But this is vain and fabulous, which
  • ignorant people, and simple women believe; for the roots which are
  • carried about by impostors to deceive unfruitful women, are made of the
  • roots of Canes, Briony and other plants: for in these yet fresh and
  • virent, they carve out the figures of men and women, first sticking
  • therein the grains of Barley or Millet, where they intend the hair
  • should grow; then bury them in sand until the grains shoot forth their
  • roots, which at the longest will happen in twenty days; they afterward
  • clip and trim those tender strings in the fashion of beards and other
  • hairy tegument. All which like other impostures once discovered is
  • easily effected, and in the root of white _Briony_ may be practised
  • every spring.
  • What is therefore delivered in favour thereof, by Authors ancient or
  • modern, must have its root in tradition, imposture, far derived
  • similitude, or casual and rare contingency. So may we admit of the
  • Epithet of _Pythagoras_, who calls it _Anthropomorphus_[SN: Orchis
  • Anthropomorphus cujus Icon in Kircheri Magia parastatica.]; and that of
  • _Columella_, who terms it _Semihomo_; more appliable unto the
  • Man-_Orchis_, whose flower represents a Man. Thus is _Albertus_ to be
  • received when he affirmeth, that _Mandrakes_ represent man-kind with the
  • distinction of either Sex. [SN: De mandragora.] Under these restrictions
  • may those Authors be admitted, which for this opinion are introduced by
  • _Drusius_; nor shall we need to question the monstrous root of
  • _Briony_ described in _Aldrovandus_ [SN: De monstris.].
  • [Sidenote: _Generations equivocal, are yet commonly regular and of a
  • determinate form or species._]
  • The second assertion concerneth its production. That it naturally
  • groweth under Gallowses and places of execution, arising from fat or
  • urine that drops from the body of the dead; a story somewhat agreeable
  • unto the fable of the Serpents teeth sowed in the earth by _Cadmus_; or
  • rather the birth of _Orion_ from the urine of _Jupiter_, _Mercury_, and
  • _Neptune_. Now this opinion seems grounded on the former, that is, a
  • conceived similitude it hath with man; and therefore from him in some
  • way they would make out its production: Which conceit is not only
  • erroneous in the foundation, but injurious unto Philosophy in the
  • superstruction. Making putrifactive generations, correspondent unto
  • seminal productions, and conceiving in equivocal effects and univocal
  • conformity unto the efficient. Which is so far from being verified of
  • animals in their corruptive mutations into Plants, that they maintain
  • not this similitude in their nearer translation into animals. So when
  • the Oxe corrupteth into Bees, or the Horse into Hornets, they come not
  • forth in the image of their originals. So the corrupt and excrementous
  • humours in man are animated into Lice; and we may observe, that Hogs,
  • Sheep, Goats, Hawks, Hens, and others, have one peculiar and proper kind
  • of vermine; not resembling themselves according to seminal conditions,
  • yet carrying a setled and confined habitude unto their corruptive
  • originals. And therefore come not forth in generations erratical, or
  • different from each other; but seem specifically and in regular shapes
  • to attend the corruption of their bodies, as do more perfect
  • conceptions, the rule of seminal productions.
  • The third affirmeth the roots of _Mandrakes_ do make a noise, or give a
  • shriek upon eradication; which is indeed ridiculous, and false below
  • confute: arising perhaps from a small and stridulous noise, which being
  • firmly rooted, it maketh upon divulsion of parts. A slender foundation
  • for such a vast conception: for such a noise we sometime observe in
  • other Plants, in Parsenips, Liquorish, Eringium, Flags, and others.
  • The last concerneth the danger ensuing, That there follows an hazard of
  • life to them that pull it up, that some evil fate pursues them, and they
  • live not very long after. Therefore the attempt hereof among the
  • Ancients, was not in ordinary way; but as _Pliny_ informeth, when they
  • intended to take up the root of this Plant, they took the wind thereof,
  • and with a sword describing three circles about it, they digged it up,
  • looking toward the _West_. A conceit not only injurious unto truth, and
  • confutable by daily experience, but somewhat derogatory unto the
  • providence of God; that is, not only to impose so destructive a quality
  • on any Plant, but to conceive a Vegetable, whose parts are useful unto
  • many, should in the only taking up prove mortal unto any. To think he
  • suffereth the poison of _Nubia_ [SN: Granum Nubiæ.] to be gathered,
  • _Napellus_, _Aconite_, and _Thora_, to be eradicated, yet this not to be
  • moved. That he permitteth Arsenick and mineral poisons to be forced from
  • the bowels of the Earth, yet not this from the surface thereof. This
  • were to introduce a second forbidden fruit, and inhance the first
  • malediction, making it not only mortal for _Adam_ to taste the one, but
  • capital unto his posterity to eradicate or dig up the other.
  • Now what begot, at least promoted so strange conceptions, might be the
  • magical opinion hereof; this being conceived the Plant so much in use
  • with _Circe_, and therefore named _Circea_, as _Dioscorides_ and
  • _Theophrastus_ have delivered, which being the eminent Sorcerers of
  • elder story, and by the magick of simples believed to have wrought many
  • wonders: some men were apt to invent, others to believe any tradition or
  • magical promise thereof.
  • _Analogous_ relations concerning other plants, and such as are of near
  • affinity unto this, have made its currant smooth, and pass more easily
  • among us. For the same effect is also delivered by _Josephus_,
  • concerning the root _Baaras_; by _Ælian_ of _Cynospastus_; and we read
  • in _Homer_ the very same opinion concerning Moly,
  • Μῶλυ δέ μιν καλέουσι θεοί· χαλεπὸν δέ τ' ὀρύσσειν
  • Ἀνδράσι γε θνητοῖσι· θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα δύνανται.
  • The Gods it Moly call, whose Root to dig away,
  • Is dangerous unto Man; but Gods, they all things may.
  • Now parallels or like relations alternately relieve each other, when
  • neither will pass asunder, yet are they plausible together; their mutual
  • concurrences supporting their solitary instabilities.
  • Signaturists have somewhat advanced it; who seldom omitting what
  • Ancients delivered; drawing into inference received distinction of sex,
  • not willing to examine its humane resemblance; and placing it in the
  • form of strange and magical simples, have made men suspect there was
  • more therein, then ordinary practice allowed; and so became apt to
  • embrace whatever they heard or read conformable unto such conceptions.
  • Lastly, The conceit promoteth it self: for concerning an effect whose
  • trial must cost so dear, it fortifies it self in that invention; and few
  • there are whose experiment it need to fear. For (what is most
  • contemptible) although not only the reason of any head, but experience
  • of every hand may well convict it, yet will it not by divers be
  • rejected; for prepossessed heads will ever doubt it, and timorous
  • beliefs will never dare to trie it. So these Traditions how low and
  • ridiculous soever, will find suspition in some, doubt in others, and
  • serve as tests or trials of Melancholy and superstitious tempers for
  • ever.
  • [Sidenote: _That Cinamon, Ginger, Clove, etc., are not of the same
  • tree._]
  • 2. That Cinamon, Ginger, Clove, Mace, and Nutmeg, are but the several
  • parts and fruits of the same tree, is the common belief of those which
  • daily use them. Whereof to speak distinctly, Ginger is the root of
  • neither Tree nor Shrub, but of an herbaceous Plant, resembling the Water
  • Flower-De-luce, as _Garcias_ first described; or rather the common Reed,
  • as _Lobelius_ since affirmed. Very common in many parts of _India_,
  • growing either from Root or Seed, which in _December_ and _January_ they
  • take up, and gently dried, roll it up in earth, whereby occluding the
  • pores, they conserve the natural humidity, and so prevent corruption.
  • Cinamon is the inward bark of a Cinamon Tree, whereof the best is
  • brought from _Zeilan_; this freed from the outward bark, and exposed
  • unto the Sun, contracts into those folds wherein we commonly receive it.
  • If it have not a sufficient isolation it looketh pale, and attains not
  • its laudable colour; if it be sunned too long, it suffereth a
  • torrefaction, and descendeth somewhat below it.
  • Clove seems to be either the rudiment of a fruit, or the fruit it self
  • growing upon the Clove tree, to be found but in few Countries. The most
  • commendable is that of the Isles of _Molucca_; it is first white,
  • afterward green, which beaten down, and dried in the Sun, becometh
  • black, and in the complexion we receive it.
  • Nutmeg is the fruit of a Tree differing from all these, and as
  • _Garcias_ describeth it, somewhat like a Peach; growing in divers
  • places, but fructifying in the Isle of _Banda_, The fruit hereof
  • consisteth of four parts; the first or outward part is a thick and
  • carnous covering like that of a Wal-nut. The second a dry and flosculous
  • coat, commonly called Mace. The third a harder tegument or shell, which
  • lieth under the Mace. The fourth a Kernel included in the shell, which
  • is the same we call Nutmeg. All which both in their parts and order of
  • disposure, are easily discerned in those fruits, which are brought in
  • preserves unto us.
  • Now if because Mace and Nutmegs proceed from one Tree, the rest must
  • bear them company; or because they are all from the _East Indies_, they
  • are all from one Plant: the Inference is precipitous, nor will there
  • such a Plant be found in the Herbal of Nature.
  • [Sidenote: _What the Misseltoe in some Trees is._]
  • 3. That Viscus Arboreus or Misseltoe is bred upon Trees, from seeds
  • which Birds, especially Thrushes and Ring-doves let fall thereon, was
  • the Creed of the Ancients, and is still believed among us, is the
  • account of its production, set down by _Pliny_, delivered by _Virgil_,
  • and subscribed by many more. If so, some reason must be assigned, why it
  • groweth onely upon certain Trees, and not upon many whereon these Birds
  • do light. For as Exotick observers deliver, it groweth upon
  • Almond-trees, Chesnut, Apples, Oaks, and Pine-trees. As we observe in
  • _England_ very commonly upon Apple, Crabs, and White-thorn; sometimes
  • upon Sallow, Hazel, and Oak: rarely upon Ash, Lime-tree, and Maple;
  • never, that I could observe, upon Holly, Elm, and many more. Why it
  • groweth not in all Countries and places where these Birds are found; for
  • so _Brassavolus_ affirmeth, it is not to be found in the Territory of
  • _Ferrara_, and was fain to supply himself from other parts of _Italy_.
  • Why if it ariseth from a seed, if sown it will not grow again, as
  • _Pliny_ affirmeth, and as by setting the Berries thereof, we have in
  • vain attempted its production; why if it cometh from seed that falleth
  • upon the tree, it groweth often downwards, and puts forth under the
  • bough, where seed can neither fall nor yet remain. Hereof beside some
  • others, the Lord _Verulam_ hath taken notice. And they surely speak
  • probably who make it an arboreous excrescence, or rather superplant,
  • bred of a viscous and superfluous sap which the tree it self cannot
  • assimilate. And therefore sprouteth not forth in boughs and surcles of
  • the same shape, and similary unto the Tree that beareth it; but in a
  • different form, and secondary unto its specified intention, wherein once
  • failing, another form succeedeth: and in the first place that of
  • Misseltoe, in Plants and Trees disposed to its production. And therefore
  • also where ever it groweth, it is of constant shape, and maintains a
  • regular figure; like other supercrescences, and such as living upon the
  • stock of others, are termed parasitical Plants, as Polypody, Moss, the
  • smaller Capillaries, and many more: So that several regions produce
  • several Misseltoes; _India_ one, _America_ another, according to the law
  • and rule of their degenerations.
  • Now what begot this conceit, might be the enlargement of some part of
  • truth contained in its story. For certain it is, that some Birds do feed
  • upon the berries of this Vegetable, and we meet in _Aristotle_ with one
  • kind of Trush called the Missel Trush [SN: Ἰξόβορος.], or feeder upon
  • Misseltoe. But that which hath most promoted it, is a received proverb,
  • _Turdus sibi malum cacat_; appliable unto such men as are authors of
  • their own misfortunes. For according unto ancient tradition and
  • _Plinies_ relation, the Bird not able to digest the fruit whereon she
  • feedeth; from her inconverted muting ariseth this Plant, of the Berries
  • whereof Birdlime is made, wherewith she is after entangled. But although
  • Proverbs be popular principles, yet is not all true that is proverbial;
  • and in many thereof, there being one thing delivered, and another
  • intended; though the verbal expression be false, the Proverb is true
  • enough in the verity of its intention.
  • [Sidenote: _Paganish superstition about the Misseltoe of the Oak._]
  • As for the Magical vertues in this Plant, and conceived efficacy unto
  • veneficial intentions, it seemeth a _Pagan_ relique derived from the
  • ancient _Druides_, the great admirers of the Oak, especially the
  • Misseltoe that grew thereon; which according unto the particular of
  • _Pliny_, they gathered with great solemnity. For after sacrifice the
  • Priest in a white garment ascended the tree, cut down the Misseltoe with
  • a golden hook, and received it in a white coat; the vertue whereof was
  • to resist all poisons, and make fruitful any that used it. Vertues not
  • expected from Classical practice; and did they fully answer their
  • promise which are so commended, in Epileptical intentions, we would
  • abate these qualities. Country practice hath added another, to provoke
  • the after-birth, and in that case the decoction is given unto Cows. That
  • the Berries are poison as some conceive, we are so far from averring,
  • that we have safely given them inwardly; and can confirm the experiment
  • of _Brassavolus_, that they have some purgative quality.
  • 4. The Rose of _Jericho_, that flourishes every year just about
  • Christmas Eve, is famous in Christian reports; which notwithstanding we
  • have some reason to doubt, and are plainly informed by _Bellonius_, it
  • is but a Monastical imposture, as he hath delivered in his
  • observations, concerning the Plants in _Jericho_. That which promoted
  • the conceit, or perhaps begot its continuance, was a propriety in this
  • Plant. For though it be dry, yet will it upon imbibition of moisture
  • dilate its leaves, and explicate its flowers contracted, and seemingly
  • dried up. And this is to be effected not only in the Plant yet growing,
  • but in some manner also in that which is brought exuccous and dry unto
  • us. Which quality being observed, the subtilty of contrivers did
  • commonly play this shew upon the Eve of our Saviours Nativity, when by
  • drying the Plant again, it closed the next day, and so pretended a
  • double mystery: referring unto the opening and closing of the womb of
  • _Mary_.
  • There wanted not a specious confirmation from a text in _Ecclesiasticus
  • [SN: _Cap. 24._], Quasi palma exultata sum in Cades, & quasi plantatio
  • Rosæ in Jericho_: I was exalted like a Palm-tree in _Engaddi_, and as a
  • Rose in _Jericho_. The sound whereof in common ears, begat an
  • extraordinary opinion of the Rose of that denomination. But herein there
  • seemeth a mistake: for by the Rose in the Text, is implied the true and
  • proper Rose, as first the Greek [SN: φύτα τοῦ ῥόδου.], and
  • ours accordingly rendreth it. But that which passeth under this name,
  • and by us is commonly called the Rose of _Jericho_, is properly no Rose,
  • but a small thorny shrub or kind of Heath, bearing little white flowers,
  • far differing from the Rose; whereof _Bellonius_ a very inquisitive
  • _Herbalist_, could not find any in his travels thorow _Jericho_. A Plant
  • so unlike a Rose, it hath been mistaken by some good _Simplist_ for
  • _Amomum_; which truly understood is so unlike a Rose, that as
  • _Dioscorides_ delivers, the flowers thereof are like the white Violet,
  • and its leaves resemble _Briony_.
  • Suitable unto this relation almost in all points is that of the Thorn at
  • _Glassenbury_, and perhaps the daughter hereof; herein our endeavours
  • as yet have not attained satisfaction, and cannot therefore enlarge.
  • Thus much in general we may observe, that strange effects are naturally
  • taken for miracles by weaker heads, and artificially improved to that
  • apprehension by wiser. Certainly many precocious Trees, and such as
  • spring in the Winter, may be found in most parts of _Europe_, and divers
  • also in _England_. [SN: _Such a Thorn there is in_ Parham Park _in
  • Suffolk, and elsewhere._] For most Trees do begin to sprout in the Fall
  • of the leaf or Autumn, and if not kept back by cold and outward causes,
  • would leaf about the Solstice. Now if it happen that any be so strongly
  • constituted, as to make this good against the power of Winter, they may
  • produce their leaves or blossoms in that season. And perform that in
  • some singles, which is observable in whole kinds; as in _Ivy_, which
  • blossoms and bears at least twice a year, and once in the Winter; as
  • also in _Furz_, which flowereth in that season.
  • 5. That _ferrum Equinum_, or _Sferra Cavallo_ hath a vertue attractive
  • of Iron, a power to break locks, and draw off the shoes of a Horse that
  • passeth over it; whether you take it for one kind of _Securidaca_, or
  • will also take in _Lunaria_, we know it to be false: and cannot but
  • wonder at _Mathiolus_, who upon a parallel in _Pliny_ was staggered into
  • suspension. Who notwithstanding in the imputed vertue to open things,
  • close and shut up, could laugh himself at that promise from the herb
  • _Æthiopis_ or _Æthiopian_ mullen; and condemn the judgment of _Scipio_,
  • who having such a picklock, would spend so many years in battering the
  • Gates of _Carthage_. Which strange and Magical conceit, seems to have no
  • deeper root in reason, then the figure of its seed; for therein indeed
  • it somewhat resembles a Horse-shoe; which notwithstanding _Baptista
  • Porta_ hath thought too low a signification, and raised the same unto a
  • Lunary representation.
  • [Sidenote: _How Beer and Wine come to be spoiled by Lightning._]
  • 6. That _Bayes_ will protect from the mischief of Lightning and Thunder,
  • is a quality ascribed thereto, common with the Fig-tree, Eagle, and skin
  • of a Seal. Against so famous a quality, _Vicomercatus_ produceth
  • experiment of a Bay-tree blasted in _Italy_. And therefore although
  • _Tiberius_ for this intent, did wear a Lawrel upon his Temples, yet did
  • _Augustus_ take a more probable course, who fled under arches and hollow
  • vaults for protection. And though _Porta_ conceive, because in a
  • streperous eruption, it riseth against fire, it doth therefore resist
  • lightning, yet is that no emboldning Illation. And if we consider the
  • threefold effect of _Jupiters_ Trisulk, to burn, discuss, and terebrate;
  • and if that be true which is commonly delivered, that it will melt the
  • blade, yet pass the scabbard; kill the child, yet spare the mother; dry
  • up the wine, yet leave the hogshead entire: though it favour the amulet,
  • it may not spare us; it will be unsure to rely on any preservative, 'tis
  • no security to be dipped in Styx, or clad in the armour of _Ceneus_. Now
  • that Beer, Wine, and other liquors, are spoiled with lightning and
  • thunder, we conceive it proceeds not onely from noise and concussion of
  • the air, but also noxious spirits, which mingle therewith, and draw them
  • to corruption; whereby they become not only dead themselves, but
  • sometime deadly unto others, as that which _Seneca_ mentioneth; whereof
  • whosoever drank, either lost his life, or else his wits upon it.
  • [Sidenote: _How drinks intoxicate or overcome men._]
  • 7. It hath much deceived the hope of good fellows, what is commonly
  • expected of bitter Almonds, and though in _Plutarch_ confirmed from the
  • practice of _Claudius_ his Physitian, that Antidote against ebriety
  • hath commonly failed. Surely men much versed in the practice do err in
  • the theory of inebriation; conceiving in that disturbance the brain doth
  • only suffer from exhalations and vaporous ascensions from the stomack,
  • which fat and oyly substances may suppress. Whereas the prevalent
  • intoxication is from the spirits of drink dispersed into the veins and
  • arteries, from whence by common conveyances they creep into the brain,
  • insinuate into its ventricles, and beget those vertigoes accompanying
  • that perversion. And therefore the same effect may be produced by a
  • Glister, the Head may be intoxicated by a medicine at the Heel. So the
  • poisonous bites of Serpents, although on parts at distance from the
  • head, yet having entered the veins, disturb the animal faculties, and
  • produce the effects of drink, or poison swallowed. And so as the Head
  • may be disturbed by the skin, it may the same way be relieved; as is
  • observable in balneations, washings, and fomentations, either of the
  • whole body, or of that part alone.
  • CHAPTER VII
  • Of some Insects, and the properties of several Plants.
  • 1. Few ears have escaped the noise of the Dead-watch, that is, the
  • little clickling sound heard often in many rooms, somewhat resembling
  • that of a Watch; and this is conceived to be of an evil omen or
  • prediction of some persons death: wherein notwithstanding there is
  • nothing of rational presage or just cause of terrour unto melancholy and
  • meticulous heads. For this noise is made by a little sheath-winged gray
  • Insect found often in Wainscot, Benches, and Wood-work, in the Summer.
  • We have taken many thereof, and kept them in thin boxes, wherein I have
  • heard and seen them work and knack with a little _proboscis_ or trunk
  • against the side of the box, like _Apicus Martius_, or Woodpecker
  • against a tree. It worketh best in warm weather, and for the most part
  • giveth not over under nine or eleven stroaks at a time. He that could
  • extinguish the terrifying apprehensions hereof, might prevent the
  • passions of the heart, and many cold sweats in Grandmothers and Nurses,
  • who in the sickness of children, are so startled with these noises.
  • 2. The presage of the year succeeding, which is commonly made from
  • Insects or little Animals in Oak apples, according to the kinds thereof,
  • either Maggot, Fly, or Spider; that is, of Famine, War, or Pestilence;
  • whether we mean that woody excrescence, which shooteth from the branch
  • about _May_, or that round and Apple-like accretion which groweth under
  • the leaf about the latter end of Summer, is I doubt too distinct, nor
  • verifiable from event.
  • For Flies and Maggots are found every year, very seldom Spiders: And
  • _Helmont_ affirmeth he could never find the Spider and the Fly upon the
  • same Trees, that is the signs of War and Pestilence, which often go
  • together: Beside, that the Flies found were at first Maggots, experience
  • hath informed us; for keeping these excrescencies, we have observed
  • their conversions, beholding in Magnifying Glasses the daily progression
  • thereof. As may be also observed in other Vegetable excretions, whose
  • Maggots do terminate in Flies of constant shapes; as in the Nutgalls of
  • the Out-landish Oak, and the Mossie tuft of the wild Briar; which having
  • gathered in _November_ we have found the little Maggots which lodged in
  • wooden Cells all _Winter_, to turn into Flies in _June_.
  • [Sidenote: _Abundance of Flies, Maggots, etc., what may they naturally
  • signifie._]
  • We confess the opinion may hold some verity in the Analogy, or
  • Emblematical phansie. For Pestilence is properly signified by the
  • Spider, whereof some kinds are of a very venemous Nature. Famine by
  • Maggots, which destroy the fruits of the Earth. And War not improperly
  • by the Fly; if we rest in the phansie of _Homer_, who compares the
  • valiant _Grecian_ unto a Fly.
  • Some verity it may also have in it self, as truly declaring the
  • corruptive constitution in the present sap and nutrimental juice of the
  • Tree; and may consequently discover the disposition of that year,
  • according to the plenty or kinds of these productions. For if the
  • putrifying juices of bodies bring forth plenty of Flies and Maggots,
  • they give forth testimony of common corruption, and declare that the
  • Elements are full of the seeds of putrifaction, as the great number of
  • Caterpillars, Gnats, and ordinary Insects do also declare. If they run
  • into Spiders, they give signs of higher putrifaction, as plenty of
  • Vipers and Scorpions are confessed to do; the putrifying Materials
  • producing Animals of higher mischiefs, according to the advance and
  • higher strain of corruption.
  • 3. Whether all Plants have seed, were more easily determinable, if we
  • could conclude concerning Harts-tongue, Fern, the Caterpillaries,
  • Lunaria, and some others. But whether those little dusty particles, upon
  • the lower side of the leaves, be seeds and seminal parts; or rather, as
  • it is commonly conceived, excremental separations, we have not as yet
  • been able to determine by any germination or univocal production from
  • them when they have been sowed on purpose: but having set the roots of
  • Harts tongue in a garden, a year or two after there came up three or
  • four of the same Plants, about two yards distance from the first. Thus
  • much we observe, that they seem to renew yearly, and come not fully out
  • till the Plant be in his vigour: and by the help of Magnifying Glasses
  • we find these dusty Atoms to be round at first, and fully representing
  • seeds, out of which at last proceed little Mites almost invisible; so
  • that such as are old stand open, as being emptied of some bodies
  • formerly included; which though discernable in Harts-tongue, is more
  • notoriously discoverable in some differencies of Brake or Fern.
  • But exquisite Microscopes and Magnifying Glasses have at last cleared
  • this doubt, whereby also long ago the noble _Fredericus Cæsius_ beheld
  • the dusts of Polypody as bigg as Pepper corns; and as _Johannes Faber_
  • testifieth, made draughts on Paper of such kind of seeds, as bigg as his
  • Glasses represented them: and set down such Plants under the Classis of
  • _Herbæ Tergifætæ_, as may be observed in his notable Botanical Tables.
  • 4. Whether the sap of Trees runs down to the roots in Winter, whereby
  • they become naked and grow not; or whether they do not cease to draw any
  • more, and reserve so much as sufficeth for conservation, is not a point
  • indubitable. For we observe, that most Trees, as though they would be
  • perpetually green, do bud at the Fall of the leaf, although they sprout
  • not much forward untill the Spring, and warmer weather approacheth; and
  • many Trees maintain their leaves all Winter, although they seem to
  • receive very small advantage in their growth. But that the sap doth
  • powerfully rise in the Spring, to repair that moisture whereby they
  • barely subsisted in the Winter, and also to put the Plant in a capacity
  • of fructification: he that hath beheld how many gallons of water may in
  • a small time be drawn from a Birch-tree in the Spring, hath slender
  • reason to doubt.
  • 5. That _Camphire_ Eunuchates, or begets in Men an impotency unto
  • Venery, observation will hardly confirm; and we have found it to fail in
  • Cocks and Hens, though given for many days; which was a more favourable
  • trial then that of _Scaliger_, when he gave it unto a Bitch that was
  • proud. For the instant turgescence is not to be taken off, but by
  • Medicines of higher Natures; and with any certainty but one way that we
  • know, which notwithstanding, by suppressing that natural evacuation, may
  • encline unto Madness, if taken in the Summer.
  • 6. In the History of Prodigies we meet with many showrs of Wheat; how
  • true or probable, we have not room to debate. Only thus much we shall
  • not omit to inform, That what was this year found in many places, and
  • almost preached for Wheat rained from the clouds, was but the seed of
  • Ivy-berries, which somewhat represent it; and though it were found in
  • Steeples and high places, might be conveyed thither, or muted out by
  • Birds: for many feed thereon, and in the crops of some we have found no
  • less then three ounces.
  • 7. That every plant might receive a Name according unto the disease it
  • cureth, was the wish of _Paracelsus_. A way more likely to multiply
  • Empiricks then Herbalists; yet what is practised by many is advantagious
  • unto neither; that is, relinquishing their proper appellations to
  • re-baptize them by the name of Saints, Apostles, Patriarchs, and
  • Martyrs, to call this the herb of _John_, that of _Peter_, this of
  • _James_, or _Joseph_, that of _Mary_ or _Barbara_. For hereby
  • apprehensions are made additional unto their proper Natures; whereon
  • superstitious practices ensue, and stories are framed accordingly to
  • make good their foundations.
  • 8. We cannot omit to declare the gross mistake of many in the Nominal
  • apprehension of Plants; to instance but in few. An herb there is
  • commonly called _Betonica Pauli_, or _Pauls Betony_; hereof the People
  • have some conceit in reference to St. _Paul_; whereas indeed that name
  • is derived from _Paulus Ægineta_, an ancient Physitian of _Ægina_, and
  • is no more then Speed-well, or _Fluellen_. The like expectations are
  • raised from _Herba Trinitatis_; which notwithstanding obtaineth that
  • name from the figure of its leaves, and is one kind of Liverwort, or
  • _Hepatica_. In _Milium Solis_, the Epithete of the Sun hath enlarged its
  • opinion; which hath indeed no reference thereunto, it being no more then
  • _Lithospermon_, or _Grummel_, or rather _Milium Soler_; which as
  • _Serapion_ from _Aben Juliel_ hath taught us, because it grew
  • plentifully in the Mountains of _Soler_, received that appellation. [SN:
  • _Why the Jews ear is used for sore Throats._] In Jews-ears something is
  • conceived extraordinary from the Name, which is in propriety but _Fungus
  • sambucinus_, or an excrescence about the Roots of Elder, and concerneth
  • not the Nation of the _Jews_, but _Judas Iscariot_, upon a conceit, he
  • hanged on this Tree; and is become a famous Medicine in Quinsies, sore
  • Throats, and strangulations ever since. And so are they deceived in the
  • name of Horse-Raddish, Horse-Mint, Bull-rush, and many more: conceiving
  • therein some prenominal consideration, whereas indeed that expression is
  • but a Grecism, by the prefix of _Hippos_ and _Bous_, that is, Horse and
  • Bull, intending no more then Great. According whereto the great Dock is
  • called _Hippolapathum_; and he that calls the Horse of _Alexander_,
  • _Great-head_, expresseth the same which the _Greeks_ do in _Bucephalus_.
  • 9. Lastly, Many things are delivered and believed of other Plants,
  • wherein at least we cannot but suspend. That there is a property in
  • _Basil_ to propagate Scorpions, and that by the smell thereof they are
  • bred in the brains of men, is much advanced by _Hollerius_, who found
  • this Insect in the brains of a man that delighted much in this smell.
  • Wherein beside that we find no way to conjoin the effect unto the cause
  • assigned; herein the Moderns speak but timorously, and some of the
  • Ancients quite contrarily. For, according unto _Oribasius_, Physitian
  • unto _Julian_, The _Affricans_, Men best experienced in poisons, affirm,
  • whosoever hath eaten _Basil_, although he be stung with a Scorpion,
  • shall feel no pain thereby: which is a very different effect, and rather
  • antidotally destroying, then seminally promoting its production.
  • That the leaves of _Catapucia_ or Spurge, being plucked upward or
  • downward, respectively perform their operations by Purge or Vomit, as
  • some have written, and old wives still do preach, is a strange conceit,
  • ascribing unto Plants positional operations, and after the manner of the
  • Loadstone; upon the Pole whereof if a Knife be drawn from the handle
  • unto the point, it will take up a Needle; but if drawn again from the
  • point to the handle, it will attract it no more.
  • That Cucumbers are no commendable fruits, that being very waterish, they
  • fill the veins with crude and windy serosities; that containing little
  • Salt or spirit, they may also debilitate the vital acidity, and
  • fermental faculty of the Stomach, we readily concede. But that they
  • should be so cold, as be almost poison by that quality, it will be hard
  • to allow, without the contradiction of _Galen_ [SN: _In his Anatomia
  • Sambuci._]: who accounteth them cold but in the second degree, and in
  • that Classis have most Physitians placed them.
  • That Elder Berries are poison, as we are taught by tradition, experience
  • will unteach us. And beside the promises of _Blochwitius_, the healthful
  • effects thereof daily observed will convict us.
  • That an Ivy Cup will separate Wine from Water, if filled with both, the
  • Wine soaking through, but the Water still remaining, as after _Pliny_
  • many have averred, we know not how to affirm; who making trial thereof,
  • found both the liquors to soak indistinctly through the bowl.
  • That Sheep do often get the Rot, by feeding in boggy grounds where
  • _Ros-solis_ groweth, seems beyond dispute. That this herb is the cause
  • thereof, Shepherds affirm and deny; whether it hath a cordial vertue by
  • sudden refection, sensible experiment doth hardly confirm, but that it
  • may have a Balsamical and resumptive Vertue, whereby it becomes a good
  • Medicine in Catarrhes and Consumptive dispositions, Practice and Reason
  • conclude. That the lentous drops upon it are not extraneous, and rather
  • an exudation from it self, then a rorid concretion from without, beside
  • other grounds, we have reason to conceive; for having kept the Roots
  • moist and earthed in close chambers, they have, though in lesser plenty,
  • sent out these drops as before.
  • That _Flos Affricanus_ is poison, and destroyeth Dogs, in two
  • experiments we have not found.
  • That Yew and the Berries thereof are harmless, we know.
  • That a Snake will not endure the shade of an Ash, we can deny. Nor is it
  • inconsiderable what is affirmed by _Bellonius_ [SN: Lib. 1 observat.];
  • for if his Assertion be true, our apprehension is oftentimes wide in
  • ordinary simples, and in common use we mistake one for another. We know
  • not the true Thyme; the Savourie in our Gardens is not that commended of
  • old; and that kind of Hysop the Ancients used, is unknown unto us, who
  • make great use of another.
  • We omit to recite the many Vertues, and endless faculties ascribed unto
  • Plants, which sometime occur in grave and serious Authors; and we shall
  • make a bad transaction for truth to concede a verity in half. To reckon
  • up all, it were employment for _Archimedes_, who undertook to write the
  • number of the Sands. Swarms of others there are, some whereof our future
  • endeavours may discover; common reason I hope will save us a labour in
  • many: Whose absurdities stand naked unto every eye; Errours not able to
  • deceive the Embleme of Justice, and need no _Argus_ to descry them.
  • Herein there surely wants expurgatory animadversions, whereby we might
  • strike out great numbers of hidden qualities; and having once a serious
  • and conceded list, we might with more encouragement and safety attempt
  • their Reasons.
  • THE THIRD BOOK
  • Of divers popular and received Tenets concerning Animals, which
  • examined, prove either false or dubious.
  • CHAPTER I
  • Of the Elephant.
  • The first shall be of the Elephant, whereof there generally passeth an
  • opinion it hath no joints; and this absurdity is seconded with another,
  • that being unable to lie down, it sleepeth against a Tree; which the
  • Hunters observing, do saw it almost asunder; whereon the Beast relying,
  • by the fall of the Tree, falls also down it self, and is able to rise no
  • more. Which conceit is not the daughter of later times, but an old and
  • gray-headed error, even in the days of _Aristotle_, as he delivereth in
  • his Book, _De incessu Animalium_, and stands successively related by
  • several other authors: by _Diodorus Siculus_, _Strabo_, _Ambrose_,
  • _Cassiodore_, _Solinus_, and many more. Now herein methinks men much
  • forget themselves, not well considering the absurdity of such
  • assertions.
  • [Sidenote: _How progression is made in animals._]
  • For first, they affirm it hath no joints, and yet concede it walks and
  • moves about; whereby they conceive there may be a progression or
  • advancement made in Motion without inflexion of parts. Now all
  • progression or Animals locomotion being (as _Aristotle_ teacheth)
  • performed _tractu et pulsu_; that is, by drawing on, or impelling
  • forward some part which was before in station, or at quiet; where there
  • are no joints or flexures, neither can there be these actions. And this
  • is true, not onely in Quadrupedes, Volatils, and Fishes, which have
  • distinct and prominent Organs of Motion, Legs, Wings, and Fins; but in
  • such also as perform their progression by the Trunk, as Serpents, Worms,
  • and Leeches. [SN: _Joint-like parts._] Whereof though some want bones,
  • and all extended articulations, yet have they arthritical Analogies, and
  • by the motion of fibrous and musculous parts, are able to make
  • progression. Which to conceive in bodies inflexible, and without all
  • protrusion of parts, were to expect a Race from _Hercules_ his pillars;
  • or hope to behold the effects of _Orpheus_ his Harp, when trees found
  • joints, and danced after his Musick.
  • Again, While men conceive they never lie down, and enjoy not the
  • position of rest, ordained unto all pedestrious Animals, hereby they
  • imagine (what reason cannot conceive) that an Animal of the vastest
  • dimension and longest duration, should live in a continual motion,
  • without that alternity and vicissitude of rest whereby all others
  • continue; and yet must thus much come to pass, if we opinion they lye
  • not down and enjoy no decumbence at all. [SN: _Extensive or Tonical
  • Motion, what?_] For station is properly no rest, but one kind of motion,
  • relating unto that which Physitians (from _Galen_) do name extensive or
  • tonical; that is, an extension of the muscles and organs of motion
  • maintaining the body at length or in its proper figure.
  • Wherein although it seem to be unmoved, it is not without all Motion;
  • for in this position the muscles are sensibly extended, and labour to
  • support the body; which permitted unto its proper gravity, would
  • suddenly subside and fall unto the earth; as it happeneth in sleep,
  • diseases, and death. From which occult action and invisible motion of
  • the muscles in station (as _Galen_ declareth) proceed more offensive
  • lassitudes then from ambulation. And therefore the Tyranny of some have
  • tormented men with long and enforced station, and though _Ixion_ and
  • _Sisiphus_ which always moved, do seem to have the hardest measure; yet
  • was not _Titius_ favoured, that lay extended upon _Caucasus_; and
  • _Tantalus_ suffered somewhat more then thirst, that stood perpetually in
  • Hell. Thus _Mercurialis_ in his Gymnasticks justly makes standing one
  • kind of exercise; and _Galen_ when we lie down, commends unto us middle
  • figures, that is, not to lye directly, or at length, but somewhat
  • inflected, that the muscles may be at rest; for such as he termeth
  • _Hypobolemaioi_ or figures, of excess, either shrinking up or stretching
  • out, are wearisome positions, and such as perturb the quiet of those
  • parts. Now various parts do variously discover these indolent and quiet
  • positions, some in right lines, as the wrists: some at right angles, as
  • the cubit: others at oblique angles, as the fingers and the knees: all
  • resting satisfied in postures of moderation, and none enduring the
  • extremity of flexure or extension.
  • Moreover men herein do strangely forget the obvious relations of
  • history, affirming they have no joints, whereas they dayly read of
  • several actions which are not performable without them. They forget what
  • is delivered by _Xiphilinus_, and also by _Suetonius_ in the lives of
  • _Nero_ and _Galba_, that Elephants have been instructed to walk on
  • ropes, in publick shews before the people. Which is not easily
  • performed by man, and requireth not only a broad foot, but a pliable
  • flexure of joints, and commandible disposure of all parts of
  • progression. They pass by that memorable place in _Curtius_, concerning
  • the Elephant of King _Porus, Indus qui Elephantem regebat, descendere
  • eum ratus, more solito procumbere jussit in genua cæteri quoque (ita
  • enim instituti erant) demisere corpora in terram_. [SN: De rebus gestis
  • Emanuelis.] They remember not the expression of _Osorius_, when he
  • speaks of the Elephant presented to _Leo_ the tenth, _Pontificem ter
  • genibus flexis, et demisso corporis habitu venerabundus salutavit_. But
  • above all, they call not to mind that memorable shew of _Germanicus_,
  • wherein twelve Elephants danced unto the sound of Musick, and after laid
  • them down in the _Tricliniums_, or places of festival Recumbency.
  • They forget the Etymologie of the Knee, approved by some Grammarians.
  • [SN: Γόνυ _from_ γωνία.] They disturb the position of
  • the young ones in the womb: which upon extension of legs is not easily
  • conceivable; and contrary unto the general contrivance of Nature. Nor do
  • they consider the impossible exclusion thereof, upon extension and
  • rigour of the legs.
  • Lastly, they forget or consult not experience, whereof not many years
  • past, we have had the advantage in _England_, by an Elephant shewn in
  • many parts thereof, not only in the posture of standing, but kneeling
  • and lying down. Whereby although the opinion at present be well
  • suppressed, yet from some strings of tradition, and fruitful recurrence
  • of errour, it is not improbable it may revive in the next generation
  • again. This being not the first that hath been seen in _England_; for
  • (besides some others) as _Polydore Virgil_ relateth, _Lewis_ the French
  • King sent one to Henry the third, and _Emanuel_ of _Portugal_ another to
  • _Leo_ the tenth into _Italy_, where notwithstanding the errour is still
  • alive and epidemical, as with us.
  • [Sidenote: _Round, Pillar-like._]
  • The hint and ground of this opinion might be the gross and somewhat
  • Cylindrical composure of the legs, the equality and less perceptible
  • disposure of the joints, especially in the former legs of this Animal;
  • they appearing when he standeth, like Pillars of flesh, without any
  • evidence of articulation. The different flexure and order of the joints
  • might also countenance the same, being not disposed in the Elephant, as
  • they are in other quadrupedes, but carry a nearer conformity unto those
  • of Man; that is, the bought of the fore-legs, not directly backward, but
  • laterally and somewhat inward; but the hough or suffraginous flexure
  • behind rather outward. Somewhat different unto many other quadrupedes,
  • as Horses, Camels, Deer, Sheep, and Dogs; for their fore-legs bend like
  • our legs, and their hinder legs like our arms, when we move them to our
  • shoulders. But quadrupedes oviparous, as Frogs, Lizards, Crocodiles,
  • have their joints and motive flexures more analogously framed unto ours;
  • and some among viviparous, that is, such thereof as can bring their
  • fore-feet and meat therein unto their mouths, as most can do that have
  • the clavicles or coller-bones: whereby their brests are broader, and
  • their shoulders more asunder, as the Ape, the Monkey, the Squirrel and
  • some others. If therefore any shall affirm the joints of Elephants are
  • differently framed from most of other quadrupedes, and more obscurely
  • and grosly almost then any, he doth herein no injury unto truth. But if
  • _à dicto secundum quid ad dictum simpliciter_, he affirmeth also they
  • have no articulations at all, he incurs the controulment of reason, and
  • cannot avoide the contradiction also of sense.
  • As for the manner of their venation, if we consult historical
  • experience, we shall find it to be otherwise then as is commonly
  • presumed, by sawing away of Trees. The accounts whereof are to be seen
  • at large in _Johannes_, _Hugo_, _Edwardus Lopez_, _Garcias ab horto_,
  • _Cadamustus_, and many more.
  • Other concernments there are of the Elephant, which might admit of
  • discourse; and if we should question the teeth of Elephants, that is,
  • whether they be properly so termed, or might not rather be called horns:
  • it were no new enquiry of mine, but a Paradox as old as _Oppianus_ [SN:
  • Cyneget. lib. 2.]. Whether as _Pliny_ and divers since affirm it, that
  • Elephants are terrified, and make away upon the grunting of Swine,
  • _Garcias ab horto_ may decide, who affirmeth upon experience, they enter
  • their stalls, and live promiscuously in the Woods of _Malavar_. That the
  • situation of the genitals is averse, and their copulation like that
  • which some believe of Camels, as _Pliny_ hath also delivered, is not to
  • be received; for we have beheld that part in a different position; and
  • their coition is made by supersaliency, like that of horses, as we are
  • informed by some who have beheld them in that act. That some Elephants
  • have not only written whole sentences, as _Ælian_ ocularly testifieth,
  • but have also spoken, as _Oppianus_ delivereth, and _Christophorus à
  • Costa_ particularly relateth; although it sound like that of _Achilles_
  • Horse in _Homer_, we do not conceive impossible. [SN: _Some_ Brutes
  • _tolerably well organized for speech and approaching to reason_.] Nor
  • beside the affinity of reason in this Animal any such intollerable
  • incapacity in the organs of divers quadrupedes, whereby they might not
  • be taught to speak, or become imitators of speech like Birds. Strange it
  • is how the curiosity of men that have been active in the instruction of
  • Beasts, have never fallen upon this artifice; and among those, many
  • paradoxical and unheard of imitations, should not attempt to make one
  • speak. The Serpent that spake unto _Eve_, the Dogs and Cats that usually
  • speak unto Witches, might afford some encouragement. And since broad and
  • thick chops are required in Birds that speak, since lips and teeth are
  • also organs of speech; from these there is also an advantage in
  • quadrupedes, and a proximity of reason in Elephants and Apes above them
  • all. Since also an Echo will speak without any mouth at all,
  • articulately returning the voice of man, by only ordering the vocal
  • spirit in concave and hollow places; whether the musculous and motive
  • parts about the hollow mouths of Beasts, may not dispose the passing
  • spirit into some articulate notes, seems a query of no great doubt.
  • CHAPTER II
  • Of the Horse.
  • The second Assertion, that an Horse hath no gall, is very general, nor
  • only swallowed by the people, and common Farriers, but also received by
  • good _Veterinarians_, [SN: Veterinarians _or Farriers_.] and some who
  • have laudably discoursed upon Horses. It seemeth also very ancient;
  • for it is plainly set down by _Aristotle_, an Horse and all solid
  • ungulous or whole hoofed animals have no gall; and the same is also
  • delivered by _Pliny_, which notwithstanding we find repugnant unto
  • experience and reason. For first, it calls in question the providence
  • or wise provision of Nature; who not abounding in superfluities, is
  • neither deficient in necessities. Wherein nevertheless there would be a
  • main defect, and her improvision justly accusable, if such a feeding
  • Animal, and so subject unto diseases from bilious causes, should want a
  • proper conveyance for choler; or have no other receptacle for that
  • humour then the Veins, and general mass of bloud.
  • It is again controllable by experience, for we have made some search and
  • enquiry herein; encouraged by _Absyrtus_ a Greek Author, in the time of
  • _Constantine_, who in his Hippiatricks [SN: Medicina equaria.],
  • obscurely assigneth the gall a place in the liver; but more especially
  • by _Carlo Ruini_ the _Bononian_, who in his _Anatomia del Cavallo_, hath
  • more plainly described it, and in a manner as I found it. For in the
  • particular enquiry into that part, in the concave or simous part of the
  • Liver, whereabout the Gall is usually seated in quadrupedes, I discover
  • an hollow, long and membranous substance, of a pale colour without, and
  • lined with Choler and Gall within; which part is by branches diffused
  • into the lobes and several parcels of the Liver; from whence receiving
  • the fiery superfluity, or cholerick remainder, by a manifest and open
  • passage, it conveyeth it into the _duodenum_ or upper gut, thence into
  • the lower bowels; which is the manner of its derivation in Man and other
  • Animals. And therefore although there be no eminent and circular
  • follicle, no round bag or vesicle which long containeth this humour: yet
  • is there a manifest receptacle and passage of choler from the Liver into
  • the Guts: which being not so shut up, or at least not so long detained,
  • as it is in other Animals: procures that frequent excretion, and
  • occasions the Horse to dung more often then many other, which
  • considering the plentiful feeding, the largeness of the guts, and their
  • various circumvolution, was prudently contrived by providence in this
  • Animal. [SN: _Choler the natural glister._] For choler is the natural
  • Glister, or one excretion whereby Nature excludeth another; which
  • descending daily into the bowels, extimulates those parts, and excites
  • them unto expulsion. And therefore when this humour aboundeth or
  • corrupteth, there succeeds oft-times a _cholerica passio_, that is, a
  • sudden and vehement Purgation upward and downward: and when the passage
  • of gall becomes obstructed, the body grows costive, and the excrements
  • of the belly white; as it happeneth in the Jaundice.
  • If any therefore affirm an Horse hath no gall, that is, no receptacle,
  • or part ordained for the separation of Choler, or not that humour at
  • all; he hath both sense and reason to oppose him. But if he saith it
  • hath no bladder of Gall, and such as is observed in many other Animals,
  • we shall oppose our sense, if we gain-say him. Thus must _Aristotle_ be
  • made out when he denieth this part, by this distinction we may relieve
  • _Pliny_ of a contradiction, who in one place affirming an Horse hath no
  • gall, delivereth yet in another, that the gall of an Horse was accounted
  • poison; and therefore at the sacrifices of Horses in _Rome_, it was
  • unlawful for the _Flamen_ [SN: _Priest._] to touch it. But with more
  • difficulty, or hardly at all is that reconcileable which is delivered by
  • our Countryman, and received _Veterinarian_; whose words in his
  • Master-piece, and Chapter of diseases from the Gall, are somewhat too
  • strict, and scarce admit a Reconciliation. The fallacie therefore of
  • this conceit is not unlike the former; _A dicto secundum quid ad dictum
  • simpliciter_. Because they have not a bladder of gall, like those we
  • usually observe in others, they have no gall at all. Which is a
  • Paralogism not admittible; a fallacy that dwels not in a cloud, and
  • needs not the Sun to scatter it.
  • CHAPTER III
  • Of the Dove.
  • The third assertion is somewhat like the second, that a Dove or Pigeon
  • hath no gall; which is affirmed from very great antiquity; for as
  • _Pierius_ observeth, from this consideration the Egyptians did make it
  • the Hieroglyphick of Meekness. It hath been averred by many holy
  • Writers, commonly delivered by _Postillers_ and _Commentators_, who from
  • the frequent mention of the Dove in the _Canticles_, the precept of our
  • Saviour, to be wise as Serpents, and innocent as Doves: and especially
  • the appearance of the Holy Ghost in the similitude of this Animal, have
  • taken occasion to set down many affections of the Dove, and what doth
  • most commend it, is, that it hath no gall. And hereof have made use not
  • only Minor Divines, but _Cyprian_, _Austin_, _Isidore_, _Beda_,
  • _Rupertus_, _Jansenius_, and many more.
  • Whereto notwithstanding we know not how to assent, it being repugnant
  • unto the Authority and positive determination of ancient Philosophy. The
  • affirmative of _Aristotle_ in his History of Animals is very plain, _Fel
  • aliis ventri, aliis intestino jungitur_: Some have the gall adjoined to
  • the guts, as the Crow, the Swallow, Sparrow, and the Dove; the same is
  • also attested by _Pliny_, and not without some passion by _Galen_, who
  • in his Book _De Atra bile_, accounts him ridiculous that denies it.
  • It is not agreeable to the constitution of this Animal, nor can we so
  • reasonably conceive there wants a Gall: that is, the hot and fiery
  • humour in a body so hot of temper, which Phlegm or Melancholy could not
  • effect. [SN: Salubrium, 31°] Now of what complexion it is,
  • _Julius Alexandrinus_ declareth, when he affirmeth that some upon the
  • use thereof, have fallen into Feavers and Quinsies. The temper of their
  • Dung and intestinal Excretions do also confirm the same; which Topically
  • applied become a _Phænigmus_ or Rubifying Medicine, and are of such
  • fiery parts, that as we read in _Galen_, they have of themselves
  • conceived fire, and burnt a house about them. And therefore when in the
  • famine of _Samaria_ (wherein the fourth part of a Cab of Pigeons dung
  • was sold for five pieces of silver,) it is delivered by _Josephus_, that
  • men made use hereof in stead of common Salt: although the exposition
  • seem strange, it is more probable then many other. For that it
  • containeth very much Salt, as beside the effects before expressed, is
  • discernable by taste, and the earth of Columbaries or Dove-houses, so
  • much desired in the artifice of Salt-petre. And to speak generally, the
  • Excrement of Birds hath more of Salt and acrimony, then that of other
  • pissing animals. Now if because the Dove is of a mild and gentle nature,
  • we cannot conceive it should be of an hot temper; our apprehensions are
  • not distinct in the measure of constitutions, and the several parts
  • which evidence such conditions. [SN: _Whence the irascible, whence
  • the concupiscible Passions do most arise._] For the Irascible passions
  • do follow the temper of the heart, but the concupiscible distractions
  • the crasis of the liver. Now many have hot livers, which have but cool
  • and temperate hearts; and this was probably the temper of _Paris_, a
  • contrary constitution to that of _Ajax_, and both but short of _Medea_,
  • who seemed to exceed in either.
  • Lastly, it is repugnant to experience, for Anatomical enquiry
  • discovereth in them a gall: and that according to the determination of
  • _Aristotle_, not annexed unto the liver, but adhering unto the guts: nor
  • is the humour contained in smaller veins, or obscurer capillations, but
  • in a vescicle, or little bladder, though some affirm it hath no bag at
  • all. And therefore the Hieroglyphick of the Ægyptians, though allowable
  • in the sense, is weak in the foundation: who expressing meekness and
  • lenity by the portract of a Dove with a tail erected, affirmed it had no
  • gall in the inward parts, but only in the rump, and as it were out of
  • the body. And therefore also if they conceived their gods were pleased
  • with the sacrifice of this Animal, as being without gall, the ancient
  • Heathens were surely mistaken in the reason, and in the very oblation.
  • Whereas in the holocaust or burnt offering of _Moses_, the gall was cast
  • away: for as _Ben Maimon_ instructeth [SN: Levit. 1.], the inwards
  • whereto the gall adhereth were taken out with the crop, according unto
  • the Law: which the Priest did not burn, but cast unto the East, that is,
  • behind his back, and readiest place to be carried out of the Sanctuary.
  • [SN: _Doves, the Birds of_ Venus, _why?_] And if they also conceived
  • that for this reason they were the Birds of _Venus_, and wanting the
  • furious and discording part, were more acceptable unto the Deity of
  • Love, they surely added unto the conceit, which was at first venereal:
  • and in this Animal may be sufficiently made out from that conception.
  • The ground of this conceit is partly like the former, the obscure
  • situation of the gall, and out of the liver, wherein it is commonly
  • enquired. But this is a very injust illation, not well considering with
  • what variety this part is seated in Birds. In some both at the stomach
  • and the liver, as in the Capriceps; in some at the liver only, as in
  • Cocks, Turkeys, and Pheasants; in others at the guts and liver, as in
  • Hawks and Kites, in some at the guts alone, as Crows, Doves, and many
  • more. And these perhaps may take up all the ways of situation, not only
  • in Birds, but also other Animals; for what is said of the Anchovie, that
  • answerable unto its name, [SN: Ἐγκρασίχολος] it carrieth the
  • gall in the head, is farther to be enquired. And though the discoloured
  • particles in the skin of an Heron be commonly termed Galls, yet is not
  • this Animal deficient in that part, but containeth it in the Liver. And
  • thus when it is conceived that the eyes of _Tobias_ were cured by the
  • gall of the fish _Callyonimus_, or _Scorpius marinus_, commended to that
  • effect by _Dioscorides_, although that part were not in the liver, yet
  • there were no reason to doubt that probability. And whatsoever Animal it
  • was, it may be received without exception, when it's delivered, the
  • married couple as a testimony of future concord, did cast the gall of
  • the sacrifice behind the Altar.
  • A strict and literal acception of a loose and tropical expression was a
  • second ground hereof. For while some affirmed it had no gall, intending
  • only thereby no evidence of anger or fury; others have construed it
  • anatomically, and denied that part at all. By which illation we may
  • infer, and that from sacred Text, a Pigeon hath no heart; according to
  • that expression, [SN: _Hosea 7._] _Factus est Ephraim sicut Columba
  • seducta non habens Cor_. And so from the letter of the Scripture we may
  • conclude it is no mild, but a fiery and furious animal, according to
  • that of _Jeremy_, [SN: _Cap. 25._] _Facta est terra in desolationem à
  • facie iræ Columbæ_: and again, _Revertamur ad terram nativitatis nostræ
  • à facie gladii Columbæ_. [SN: _Cap. 46._] Where notwithstanding the Dove
  • is not literally intended; but thereby may be implied the
  • _Babylonians_, whose Queen _Semiramis_ was called by that name, and
  • whose successors did bear the Dove in their Standard. So is it
  • proverbially said, _Formicæ sua bilis inest, habet et musca splenem_;
  • whereas we know Philosophy doubteth these parts, nor hath _Anatomy_ so
  • clearly discovered them in those insects.
  • If therefore any affirm a Pigeon hath no gall, implying no more thereby
  • then the lenity of this Animal, we shall not controvert his affirmation.
  • Thus may we make out the assertions of Ancient Writers, and safely
  • receive the expressions of Divines and worthy Fathers. But if by a
  • transition from Rhetorick to Logick, he shall contend, it hath no such
  • part or humour, he committeth an open fallacy, and such as was probably
  • first committed concerning _Spanish_ Mares, whose swiftness tropically
  • expressed from their generation by the wind; might after be grosly
  • taken, and a real truth conceived in that conception.
  • CHAPTER IV
  • Of the Bever.
  • That a Bever to escape the Hunter, bites off his testicles or stones, is
  • a Tenet very ancient; and hath had thereby advantage of propagation.
  • [SN: _Æsops Apologues, of what antiquity._] For the same we find in the
  • Hieroglyphicks of the Egyptians in the Apologue of _Æsop_, an Author of
  • great Antiquity, who lived in the beginning of the _Persian_ Monarchy,
  • and in the time of _Cyrus_: the same is touched by _Aristotle_ in his
  • Ethicks, but seriously delivered by _Ælian_, _Pliny_, and _Solinus_: the
  • same we meet with in _Juvenal_, who by an handsome and Metrical
  • expression more welcomly engrafts it in our junior Memories:
  • _----imitatus Castora, qui se
  • Eunuchum ipse facit, cupiens evadere damno
  • Testiculorum, adeo medicatum intelligit inguen._
  • It hath been propagated by Emblems: and some have been so bad
  • Grammarians as to be deceived by the Name, deriving _Castor à
  • castrando_, whereas the proper Latine word is _Fiber_, and _Castor_ but
  • borrowed from the Greek, so called _quasi_ γάστωρ, that is, _Animal
  • ventricosum_, from his swaggy and prominent belly.
  • Herein therefore to speak compendiously, we first presume to affirm that
  • from strict enquiry, we cannot maintain the evulsion or biting off any
  • parts, and this is declarable from the best and most professed Writers:
  • for though some have made use hereof in a Moral or Tropical way, yet
  • have the professed Discoursers by silence deserted, or by experience
  • rejected this assertion. Thus was it in ancient times discovered, and
  • experimentally refuted by one _Sestius_ a Physitian, as it stands
  • related by _Pliny_; by _Dioscorides_, who plainly affirms that this
  • tradition is false; by the discoveries of Modern Authors, who have
  • expressly discoursed hereon, as _Aldrovandus_, _Mathiolus_, _Gesnerus_,
  • _Bellonius_; by _Olaus Magnus_, _Peter Martyr_, and others, who have
  • described the manner of their Venations in _America_; they generally
  • omitting this way of their escape, and have delivered several other, by
  • which they are daily taken.
  • The original of the conceit was probably Hieroglyphical, which after
  • became Mythological unto the Greeks, and so set down by _Æsop_; and by
  • process of tradition, stole into a total verity, which was but partially
  • true, that is in its covert sense and Morality. Now why they placed
  • this invention upon the Bever (beside the Medicable and Merchantable
  • commodity of _Castoreum_, or parts conceived to be bitten away) might be
  • the sagacity and wisdom of that Animal, which from the works it
  • performs, and especially its Artifice in building, is very strange, and
  • surely not to be matched by any other. Omitted by _Plutarch_, _De
  • solertia Animalium_, but might have much advantaged the drift of that
  • Discourse.
  • If therefore any affirm a wise man should demean himself like the Bever,
  • who to escape with his life, contemneth the loss of his genitals, that
  • is in case of extremity, not strictly to endeavour the preservation of
  • all, but to sit down in the enjoyment of the greater good, though with
  • the detriment and hazard of the lesser; we may hereby apprehend a real
  • and useful Truth. In this latitude of belief, we are content to receive
  • the Fable of _Hippomanes_, who redeemed his life with the loss of a
  • Golden Ball; and whether true or false, we reject not the Tragœdy of
  • _Absyrtus_, and the dispersion of his Members by _Medea_, to perplex the
  • pursuit of her Father. But if any shall positively affirm this act, and
  • cannot believe the Moral, unless he also credit the Fable; he is surely
  • greedy of delusion, and will hardly avoid deception in theories of this
  • Nature. The Error therefore and Alogy in this opinion, is worse then in
  • the last; that is, not to receive Figures for Realities, but expect a
  • verity in Apologues; and believe, as serious affirmations, confessed and
  • studied Fables.
  • Again, If this were true, and that the Bever in chase makes some
  • divulsion of parts, as that which we call _Castoreum_; yet are not the
  • same to be termed Testicles or Stones; for these Cods or Follicles are
  • found in both Sexes, though somewhat more protuberant in the Male.
  • There is hereto no derivation of the seminal parts, nor any passage from
  • hence, unto the Vessels of Ejaculation: some perforations onely in the
  • part it self, through which the humour included doth exudate: as may be
  • observed in such as are fresh, and not much dried with age. And lastly,
  • The Testicles properly so called, are of a lesser magnitude, and seated
  • inwardly upon the loins: and therefore it were not only a fruitless
  • attempt, but impossible act, to Eunuchate or castrate themselves: and
  • might be an hazardous practice of Art, if at all attempted by others.
  • Now all this is confirmed from the experimental Testimony of five very
  • memorable Authors: _Bellonius_, _Gesnerus_, _Amatus_, _Rondeletius_, and
  • _Mathiolus_: who receiving the hint hereof from _Rondeletius_ in the
  • Anatomy of two Bevers, did find all true that had been delivered by him,
  • whose words are these in his learned Book _De Piscibus_: _Fibri in
  • inguinibus geminos tumores habent, utrinque vnicum, ovi Auscrini
  • magnitudine, inter hos est mentula in maribus, in fæminis pudendum, hi
  • tumores testes non sunt, sed folliculi membrana contecti, in quorum
  • medio sunguli sunt meatus è quibus exudat liquor pinguis et cerosus,
  • quem ipse Castor sæpe admoto ore lambit et exugit, postea veluti oleo,
  • corporis partes oblinit: Hos tumores testes non esse hinc maxime
  • colligitur, quod ab illus nulla est ad mentulam via neque ductus quo
  • humor in mentulæ meatum derivitur, et foras emittatur; præterea quod
  • testes intus reperiuntur, eosdem tumores Moscho animali inesse puto, è
  • quibus odoratum illud plus emanat._ Then which words there can be no
  • plainer, nor more evidently discovering the impropriety of this
  • appellation. That which is included in the cod or visible bag about the
  • groin, being not the Testicle, or any spermatical part; but rather a
  • collection of some superfluous matter deflowing from the body,
  • especially the parts of nutrition as unto their proper emunctories; and
  • as it doth in Musk and Civet Cats, though in a different and offensive
  • odour; proceeding partly from its food, that being especially Fish;
  • whereof this humour may be a garous excretion and olidous separation.
  • Most therefore of the Moderns before _Rondeletius_, and all the Ancients
  • excepting _Sestius_, have misunderstood this part, conceiving
  • _Castoreum_ the Testicles of the _Bever_; as _Dioscorides_, _Galen_,
  • _Ægineta_, _Ætius_, and others have pleased to name it. The Egyptians
  • also failed in the ground of their Hieroglyphick, when they expressed
  • the punishment of Adultery by the Bever depriving himself of his
  • testicles, which was amongst them the penalty of such incontinency. Nor
  • is _Ætius_ perhaps, too strictly to be observed, when he prescribeth the
  • stones of the Otter, or River-dog, as succedaneous unto _Castoreum_. But
  • most inexcusable of all is _Pliny_, who having before him in one place
  • the experiment of _Sestius_ against it, sets down in another, that the
  • _Bevers_ of _Pontus_ bite off their testicles: and in the same place
  • affirmeth the like of the _Hyena_. Which was indeed well joined with the
  • Bever, as having also a bag in those parts; if thereby we understand the
  • _Hyena odorata_, or Civet Cat, as is delivered and graphically described
  • by _Castellus_. [SN: Castellus de Hyena odorifera.]
  • Now the ground of this mistake might be the resemblance and situation of
  • these tumours about those parts, wherein we observe the testicles in
  • other animals. Which notwithstanding is no well founded illation, for
  • the testicles are defined by their office, and not determined by place
  • or situation; they having one office in all, but different seats in
  • many. For beside that, no Serpent, or Fishes oviparous, that neither
  • biped nor quadruped oviparous have testicles exteriourly, or prominent
  • in the groin; some also that are viviparous contain these parts within,
  • as beside this Animal, the Elephant and the Hedg-hog.
  • If any therefore shall term these testicles, intending metaphorically,
  • and in no strict acception; his language is tolerable, and offends our
  • ears no more then the Tropical names of Plants: when we read in Herbals,
  • of Dogs, Fox, and Goat-stones. But if he insisteth thereon, and
  • maintaineth a propriety in this language: our discourse hath overthrown
  • his assertion, nor will Logic permit his illation; that is, from things
  • alike, to conclude a thing the same; and from an accidental convenience,
  • that is a similitude in place or figure, to infer a specifical congruity
  • or substantial concurrence in Nature.
  • CHAPTER V
  • Of the Badger.
  • That a Brock or Badger hath the legs on one side shorter then of the
  • other, though an opinion perhaps not very ancient, is yet very general;
  • received not only by Theorists and unexperienced believers, but assented
  • unto by most who have the opportunity to behold and hunt them daily.
  • Which notwithstanding upon enquiry I find repugnant unto the three
  • Determinators of Truth, Authority, Sense, and Reason. For first,
  • _Albertus Magnus_ speaks dubiously, confessing he could not confirm the
  • verity hereof; but _Aldrovandus_ plainly affirmeth, there can be no
  • such inequality observed. And for my own part, upon indifferent enquiry,
  • I cannot discover this difference, although the regardable side be
  • defined, and the brevity by most imputed unto the left.
  • Again, It seems no easie affront unto Reason, and generally repugnant
  • unto the course of Nature; for if we survey the total set of Animals, we
  • may in their legs, or Organs of progression, observe an equality of
  • length, and parity of Numeration; that is, not any to have an odd legg,
  • or the supporters and movers of one side not exactly answered by the
  • other. Although the hinder may be unequal unto the fore and middle legs,
  • as in Frogs, Locusts, and Grasshoppers; or both unto the middle, as in
  • some Beetles and Spiders, as is determined by _Aristotle_, _De incessu
  • Animalium_. [SN: De incessu Animalium.] Perfect and viviparous
  • quadrupeds, so standing in their position of proneness, that the
  • opposite joints of Neighbour-legs consist in the same plane; and a line
  • descending from their Navel intersects at right angles the axis of the
  • Earth. It happeneth often I confess that a Lobster hath the Chely or
  • great claw of one side longer then the other; but this is not properly
  • their leg, but a part of apprehension, and whereby they hold or seiz
  • upon their prey; for the legs and proper parts of progression are
  • inverted backward, and stand in a position opposite unto these.
  • Lastly, The Monstrosity is ill contrived, and with some disadvantage;
  • the shortness being affixed unto the legs of one side, which might have
  • been more tolerably placed upon the thwart or Diagonial Movers. [SN:
  • _Diagonion, a line drawn from the cross angles._] For the progression of
  • quadrupeds being performed _per Diametrum_, that is the cross legs
  • moving or resting together, so that two are always in motion, and two
  • in station at the same time; the brevity had been more tolerable in the
  • cross legs. For then the Motion and station had been performed by equal
  • legs; whereas herein they are both performed by unequal Organs, and the
  • imperfection becomes discoverable at every hand.
  • CHAPTER VI
  • Of the Bear.
  • That a Bear brings forth her young informous and unshapen, which she
  • fashioneth after by licking them over, is an opinion not only vulgar,
  • and common with us at present: but hath been of old delivered by ancient
  • Writers. Upon this foundation it was an Hieroglyphick with the
  • Egyptians: _Aristotle_ seems to countenance it; _Solinus_, _Pliny_, and
  • _Ælian_ directly affirm it, and _Ovid_ smoothly delivereth it:
  • _Nec catulus partu quem reddidit ursa recenti_
  • _Sed male viva caro est, lambendo mater in artus_
  • _Ducit, et in formam qualem cupit ipsa reducit._
  • Which notwithstanding is not only repugnant unto the sense of every one
  • that shall enquire into it, but the exact and deliberate experiment of
  • three Authentick Philosophers. The first of _Mathiolus_ in his Comment
  • on _Dioscorides_, whose words are to this effect. In the Valley of
  • _Anania_ about _Trent_, in a Bear which the Hunters eventerated or
  • opened, I beheld the young ones with all their parts distinct: and not
  • without shape, as many conceive; giving more credit unto _Aristotle_ and
  • _Pliny_, then experience and their proper senses. Of the same assurance
  • was _Julius Scaliger_ in his Exercitations, _Ursam fœtus informes
  • potius ejicere, quam parere, si vera dicunt, quos postea linctu
  • effingat: Quid hujusce fabulæ authoribus fidei habendum ex hac historia
  • cognosces; In nostris Alpibus venatores fætum Ursam cepere, dissecta ea
  • fætus plane formatus intus inventus est_. And lastly, Aldrovandus who
  • from the testimony of his own eyes affirmeth, that in the Cabinet of the
  • Senate of _Bononia_, there was preserved in a Glass a Cub taken out of a
  • Bear perfectly formed, and compleat in every part.
  • It is moreover injurious unto Reason, and much impugneth the course and
  • providence of Nature, to conceive a birth should be ordained before
  • there is a formation. For the conformation of parts is necessarily
  • required, not onely unto the pre-requisites and previous conditions of
  • birth, as Motion and Animation: but also unto the parturition or very
  • birth it self: Wherein not only the Dam, but the younglings play their
  • parts; and the cause and act of exclusion proceedeth from them both. For
  • the exclusion of Animals is not meerly passive like that of Eggs, nor
  • the total action of delivery to be imputed unto the Mother: but the
  • first attempt beginneth from the Infant: which at the accomplished
  • period attempteth to change his Mansion: and strugling to come forth,
  • dilacerates and breaks those parts which restrained him before.
  • Beside (what few take notice of) Men hereby do in an high measure
  • vilifie the works of God, imputing that unto the tongue of a Beast,
  • which is the strangest Artifice in all the acts of Nature; that is the
  • formation of the infant in the Womb, not only in Mankind, but all
  • viviparous Animals. [SN: _Formation in the Matrix, the admirable work of
  • Nature._] Wherein the plastick or formative faculty, from matter
  • appearing Homogeneous, and of a similary substance, erecteth Bones,
  • Membranes, Veins, and Arteries: and out of these contriveth every part
  • in number, place, and figure, according to the law of its species. Which
  • is so far from being fashioned by any outward agent, that once omitted
  • or perverted by a slip of the inward _Phidias_, it is not reducible by
  • any other whatsoever. And therefore _Mirè me plasmaverunt manus tuæ_,
  • though it originally respected the generation of Man, yet is it
  • appliable unto that of other Animals; who entring the Womb in bare and
  • simple Materials, return with distinction of parts, and the perfect
  • breath of life. He that shall consider these alterations without, must
  • needs conceive there have been strange operations within; which to
  • behold, it were a spectacle almost worth ones beeing, a sight beyond
  • all; except that Man had been created first, and might have seen the
  • shew of five dayes after.
  • Now as the opinion is repugnant both unto sense and Reason, so hath it
  • probably been occasioned from some slight ground in either. Thus in
  • regard the Cub comes forth involved in the Chorion, a thick and tough
  • Membrane obscuring the formation, and which the Dam doth after bite and
  • tear asunder; the beholder at first sight conceives it a rude and
  • informous lump of flesh, and imputes the ensuing shape unto the Mouthing
  • of the Dam; which addeth nothing thereunto, but only draws the curtain,
  • and takes away the vail which concealed the Piece before. And thus have
  • some endeavoured to enforce the same from Reason; that is, the small and
  • slender time of the Bears gestation, or going with her young; which
  • lasting but few days (a Month some say) the exclusion becomes
  • precipitous, and the young ones consequently informous; according to
  • that of _Solinus_, _Trigesimus dies uterum liberat ursæ; unde evenit ut
  • præcipitata fæcunditas informes creet partus_. But this will overthrow
  • the general Method of Nature in the works of generation. For therein the
  • conformation is not only antecedent, but proportional unto the
  • exclusion; and if the period of the birth be short, the term of
  • conformation will be as sudden also. There may I confess from this
  • narrow time of gestation ensue a Minority or smalness in the exclusion;
  • but this however inferreth no informity, and it still receiveth the Name
  • of a natural and legitimate birth; whereas if we affirm a total
  • informity, it cannot admit so forward a term as an Abortment, for that
  • supposeth conformation. So we must call this constant and intended act
  • of Nature, a slip or effluxion [SN: Ἔκρυσις.], that is an exclusion
  • before conformation: before the birth can bear the name of the Parent,
  • or be so much as properly called an _Embryon_.
  • CHAPTER VII
  • Of the Basilisk
  • Many Opinions are passant concerning the Basilisk or little King of
  • Serpents, commonly called the Cockatrice: some affirming, others
  • denying, most doubting the relations made hereof. What therefore in
  • these incertainties we may more safely determine: that such an Animal
  • there is, if we evade not the testimony of Scripture and humane Writers,
  • we cannot safely deny. So it is said _Psalm_ 91. _Super Aspidem et
  • Basiliscum ambulabis_, wherein the Vulgar Translation retaineth the Word
  • of the Septuagint, using in other places the Latine expression
  • _Regulus_, as _Proverbs_ 23. _Mordebit ut coluber, et sicut Regulus
  • venena diffundet_: and _Jeremy_ 8. _Ecce ego mittam vobis serpentes
  • Regulos, etc._ That is, as ours translate it, _Behold I will send
  • Serpents, Cockatrices among you which will not be charmed, and they
  • shall bite you_. And as for humane Authors, or such as have discoursed
  • of Animals, or Poisons, it is to be found almost in all: in
  • _Dioscorides_, _Galen_, _Pliny_, _Solinus_, _Ælian_, _Ætius_, _Avicen_,
  • _Ardoynus_, _Grevinus_, and many more. In _Aristotle_ I confess we find
  • no mention thereof, but _Scaliger_ in his Comment and enumeration of
  • Serpents, hath made supply; and in his Exercitations delivereth that a
  • Basilisk was found in _Rome_, in the days of _Leo_ the fourth. The like
  • is reported by _Sigonius_; and some are so far from denying one, that
  • they have made several kinds thereof: for such is the _Catoblepas_ of
  • _Pliny_ conceived to be by some, and the _Dryinus_ of _Ætius_ by others.
  • But although we deny not the existence of the Basilisk, yet whether we
  • do not commonly mistake in the conception hereof, and call that a
  • Basilisk which is none at all, is surely to be questioned. For certainly
  • that which from the conceit of its generation we vulgarly call a
  • Cockatrice, and wherein (but under a different name) we intend a formal
  • Identity and adequate conception with the Basilisk; is not the Basilisk
  • of the Ancients, whereof such wonders are delivered. For this of ours is
  • generally described with legs, wings, a Serpentine and winding tail, and
  • a crist or comb somewhat like a Cock. But the Basilisk of elder times
  • was a proper kind of Serpent, not above three palms long, as some
  • account; and differenced from other Serpents by advancing his head, and
  • some white marks or coronary spots upon the crown, as all authentick
  • Writers have delivered.
  • Nor is this Cockatrice only unlike the Basilisk, but of no real shape in
  • Nature; and rather an Hieroglyphical fansie, to express different
  • intentions, set forth in different fashions. Sometimes with the head of
  • a Man, sometime with the head of an Hawk, as _Pierius_ hath delivered;
  • and as with addition of legs the Heralds and Painters still describe it.
  • Nor was it only of old a symbolical and allowable invention, but is now
  • become a manual contrivance of Art, and artificial imposure; whereof
  • besides others, _Scaliger_ hath taken notice: _Basilici formam mentiti
  • sunt vulgo Gallinacco similem, et pedibus binis; neque enim absimiles
  • sunt cæteris serpentibus, nisi macula quasi in vertice candida, unde
  • illi nomen Regium_; that is, men commonly counterfeit the form of a
  • Basilisk with another like a Cock, and with two feet; whereas they
  • differ not from other serpents, but in a white speck upon their Crown.
  • Now although in some manner it might be counterfeited in _Indian_ Cocks,
  • and flying Serpents, yet is it commonly contrived out of the skins of
  • Thornbacks, Scaits, or Maids, as _Aldrovand_ hath observed, [SN: _By way
  • of figure._] and also graphically described in his excellent Book of
  • Fishes; and for satisfaction of my own curiosity I have caused some to
  • be thus contrived out of the same Fishes.
  • Nor is onely the existency of this animal considerable, but many things
  • delivered thereof, particularly its poison and its generation.
  • Concerning the first, according to the doctrine of the Ancients, men
  • still affirm, that it killeth at a distance, that it poisoneth by the
  • eye, and by priority of vision. [SN: _Destructive._] Now that
  • deleterious it may be at some distance, and destructive without corporal
  • contaction, what uncertainty soever there be in the effect, there is no
  • high improbability in the relation. For if Plagues or pestilential Atoms
  • have been conveyed in the Air from different Regions, if men at a
  • distance have infected each other, if the shadows of some trees be
  • noxious, if _Torpedoes_ deliver their opium at a distance, and stupifie
  • beyond themselves; we cannot reasonably deny, that (beside our gross and
  • restrained poisons requiring contiguity unto their actions) there may
  • proceed from subtiller seeds, more agile emanations, which contemn those
  • Laws, and invade at distance unexpected.
  • That this venenation shooteth from the eye, and that this way a Basilisk
  • may empoison, although thus much be not agreed upon by Authors, some
  • imputing it unto the breath, others unto the bite, it is not a thing
  • impossible. For eyes receive offensive impressions from their objects,
  • and may have influences destructive to each other. [SN: _Effluxion of
  • corporeal species._] For the visible species of things strike not our
  • senses immaterially, but streaming in corporal raies, do carry with them
  • the qualities of the object from whence they flow, and the medium
  • through which they pass. [SN: _How the Basilisk kills at distance._]
  • Thus through a green or red Glass all things we behold appear of the
  • same colours; thus sore eyes affect those which are sound, and
  • themselves also by reflection, as will happen to an inflamed eye that
  • beholds it self long in a Glass; thus is fascination made out, and thus
  • also it is not impossible, what is affirmed of this animal, the visible
  • rayes of their eyes carrying forth the subtilest portion of their
  • poison, which received by the eye of man or beast, infecteth first the
  • brain, and is from thence communicated unto the heart.
  • But lastly, That this destruction should be the effect of the first
  • beholder, or depend upon priority of aspection, is a point not easily to
  • be granted, and very hardly to be made out upon the principles of
  • _Aristotle_, _Alhazen_, _Vitello_, and others, who hold that sight is
  • made by Reception, and not by extramission; by receiving the raies of
  • the object into the eye, and not by sending any out. For hereby although
  • he behold a man first, the Basilisk should rather be destroyed, in
  • regard he first receiveth the rayes of his Antipathy, and venomous
  • emissions which objectively move his sense; but how powerful soever his
  • own poison be, it invadeth not the sense of man, in regard he beholdeth
  • him not. And therefore this conceit was probably begot by such as held
  • the opinion of sight by extramission; as did _Pythagoras_, _Plato_,
  • _Empedocles_, _Hipparrchus_, _Galen_, _Macrobius_, _Proclus_,
  • _Simplicius_, with most of the Ancients, and is the postulate of
  • _Euclide_ in his Opticks, but now sufficiently convicted from
  • observations of the Dark Chamber.
  • [Sidenote: _The generation of the Cocks egg._]
  • As for the generation of the Basilisk, that it proceedeth from a Cocks
  • egg hatched under a Toad or Serpent, it is a conceit as monstrous as the
  • brood it self. For if we should grant that Cocks growing old, and unable
  • for emission, amass within themselves some seminal matter, which may
  • after conglobate into the form of an egg, yet will this substance be
  • unfruitful. As wanting one principle of generation, and a commixture of
  • both sexes, which is required unto production, as may be observed in the
  • eggs of Hens not trodden; and as we have made trial in some which are
  • termed Cocks eggs. [SN: Ovum Centeninum, _or the last egg which is a
  • very little one._] It is not indeed impossible that from the sperm of a
  • Cock, Hen, or other Animal, being once in putrescence, either from
  • incubation or otherwise, some generation may ensue, not univocal and of
  • the same species, but some imperfect or monstrous production, even as in
  • the body of man from putrid humours, and peculiar ways of corruption,
  • there have succeeded strange and unseconded shapes of worms; whereof we
  • have beheld some our selves, and read of others in medical observations.
  • And so may strange and venomous Serpents be several ways engendered; but
  • that this generation should be regular, and alway produce a Basilisk, is
  • beyond our affirmation, and we have good reason to doubt.
  • Again, It is unreasonable to ascribe the equivocacy of this form unto
  • the hatching of a Toad, or imagine that diversifies the production. For
  • Incubation alters not the species, nor if we observe it, so much as
  • concurs either to the sex or colour: as appears in the eggs of Ducks or
  • Partridges hatched under a Hen, there being required unto their
  • exclusion only a gentle and continued heat: and that not particular or
  • confined unto the species or parent. So have I known the seed of
  • Silk-worms hatched on the bodies of women: and _Pliny_ reports that
  • _Livia_ the wife of _Augustus_ hatched an egg in her bosome. Nor is only
  • an animal heat required hereto, but an elemental and artificial warmth
  • will suffice: for as _Diodorus_ delivereth, the Ægyptians were wont to
  • hatch their eggs in Ovens, and many eye-witnesses confirm that practice
  • unto this day. And therefore this generation of the Basilisk, seems like
  • that of _Castor_ and _Helena_; he that can credit the one, may easily
  • believe the other: that is, that these two were hatched out of the egg
  • which _Jupiter_ in the form of a Swan, begat on his Mistress _Leda_.
  • The occasion of this conceit might be an Ægyptian tradition concerning
  • the Bird _Ibis_: which after became transferred unto Cocks. For an
  • opinion it was of that Nation, that the _Ibis_ feeding upon Serpents,
  • that venomous food so inquinated their oval conceptions, or eggs within
  • their bodies, that they sometimes came forth in Serpentine shapes, and
  • therefore they always brake their eggs, nor would they endure the Bird
  • to sit upon them. But how causeless their fear was herein, the daily
  • incubation of Ducks, Pea-hens, and many other testifie, and the Stork
  • might have informed them; which Bird they honoured and cherished, to
  • destroy their Serpents.
  • That which much promoted it, was a misapprehension of holy Scripture
  • upon the Latine translation in _Esa._ 51, _Ova aspidum ruperunt et telas
  • Arenearum texuerunt, qui comedent de ovis corum morietur, et quod
  • confotum est, erumpet in Regulum_. From whence notwithstanding, beside
  • the generation of Serpents from eggs, there can be nothing concluded;
  • and what kind of Serpents are meant, not easie to be determined, for
  • Translations are here very different: _Tremellius_ rendering the Asp
  • Hæmorrhous, and the Regulus or Basilisk a Viper, and our translation for
  • the Asp sets down a Cockatrice in the Text, and an Adder in the margin.
  • Another place of _Esay_ doth also seem to countenance it, Chap. 14. _Ne
  • læteris Philistæa quoniam diminuta est virga percussoris tui, de radice
  • enim colubri egredietur Regulus, et semen ejus absorbens volucrem_,
  • which ours somewhat favourably rendereth: _Out of the Serpents Root
  • shall come forth a Cockatrice, and his fruit shall be a fiery flying
  • Serpent_. But _Tremellius_, _è radice Serpentis prodit Hæmorrhous, et
  • fructus illius præster volans_; wherein the words are different, but the
  • sense is still the same; for therein are figuratively intended _Uzziah_
  • and _Ezechias_; for though the Philistines had escaped the minor Serpent
  • _Uzziah_, yet from his stock a fiercer Snake should arise, that would
  • more terribly sting them, and that was _Ezeckias_.
  • But the greatest promotion it hath received from a misunderstanding of
  • the Hieroglyphical intention. For being conceived to be the Lord and
  • King of Serpents, to aw all others, nor to be destroyed _by any_; the
  • Ægyptians hereby implied Eternity, and the awful power of the supreme
  • Deitie: and therefore described a crowned Asp or Basilisk upon the heads
  • of their gods. As may be observed in the Bembine Table, and other
  • Ægyptian Monuments.
  • CHAPTER VIII
  • Of the Wolf.
  • Such a Story as the Basilisk is that of the Wolf concerning priority of
  • vision, that a man becomes hoarse or dumb, if a Wolf have the advantage
  • first to eye him. And this is a plain language affirmed by _Plyny_: _In
  • Italia ut creditur, Luporum visus est noxius, vocemque homini, quem
  • prius contemplatur adimere_; so is it made out what is delivered by
  • _Theocritus_, and after him by _Virgil_:
  • _----Vox quoque Mœrim
  • Jam fugit ipsa, Lupi Mœrim videre priores._
  • Thus is the Proverb to be understood, when during the discourse, if the
  • party or subject interveneth, and there ensueth a sudden silence, it is
  • usually said, _Lupus est in fabula_. Which conceit being already
  • convicted, not only by _Scaliger_, _Riolanus_, and others; but daily
  • confutable almost every where out of _England_, we shall not further
  • refute.
  • The ground or occasional original hereof, was probably the amazement and
  • sudden silence the unexpected appearance of Wolves do often put upon
  • Travellers; not by a supposed vapour, or venomous emanation, but a
  • vehement fear which naturally produceth obmutescence; and sometimes
  • irrecoverable silence. Thus Birds are silent in presence of an Hawk, and
  • _Pliny_ saith that Dogs are mute in the shadow of an Hiæna. But thus
  • could not the mouths of worthy Martyrs be silenced, who being exposed
  • not onely unto the eyes, but the merciless teeth of Wolves, gave loud
  • expressions of their faith, and their holy clamours were heard as high
  • as Heaven.
  • That which much promoted it beside the common Proverb, was an expression
  • in _Theocritus_, a very ancient Poet, ού φθέγξη λύκον εἴδες
  • _Edere non poteris vocem, Lycus est tibi visus_; which _Lycus_ was Rival
  • unto another, and suddenly appearing stopped the mouth of his Corrival:
  • now _Lycus_ signifying also a Wolf, occasioned this apprehension; men
  • taking that appellatively, which was to be understood properly, and
  • translating the genuine acception. Which is a fallacy of Æquivocation,
  • and in some opinions begat the like conceit concerning _Romulus_ and
  • _Remus_, that they were fostered by a Wolf, the name of the Nurse being
  • _Lupa_; and founded the fable of _Europa_, and her carriage over Sea by
  • a Bull, because the Ship or Pilots name was _Taurus_. And thus have some
  • been startled at the Proverb, _Bos in lingua_, confusedly apprehending
  • how a man should be said to have an Oxe in his tongue, that would not
  • speak his mind; which was no more then that a piece of money had
  • silenced him: for by the Oxe was onely implied a piece of coin stamped
  • with that figure, first currant with the _Athenians_, and after among
  • the _Romans_.
  • CHAPTER IX
  • Of the Deer.
  • The common Opinion concerning the long life of Animals, is very ancient,
  • especially of Crows, Choughs and Deer; in moderate accounts exceeding
  • the age of man, in some the days of _Nestor_, and in others surmounting
  • the years of _Artephius_ or _Methuselah_. From whence Antiquity hath
  • raised proverbial expressions, and the real conception of their
  • duration, hath been the Hyperbolical expression of many others. From all
  • the rest we shall single out the Deer, upon concession a long-lived
  • Animal, and in longævity by many conceived to attain unto hundreds;
  • wherein permitting every man his own belief, we shall our selves crave
  • liberty to doubt, and our reasons are these ensuing.
  • The first is that of _Aristotle_, drawn from the increment and gestation
  • of this Animal, that is, its sudden arrivance unto growth and maturity,
  • and the small time of its remainder in the Womb. His words in the
  • translation of _Scaliger_ are these, _De ejus vitæ longitudine
  • fabulantur; neque enim aut gestatio aut incrementum hinnulorum ejusmodi
  • sunt ut præstent argumentum longævi animalis_; that is, Fables are
  • raised concerning the vivacity of Deer; for neither are their gestation
  • or increment, such as may afford an argument of long life. And these,
  • saith _Scaliger_, are good Mediums conjunctively taken, that is, not one
  • without the other. For of Animals viviparous such as live long, go long
  • with young, and attain but slowly to their maturity and stature. So the
  • Horse that liveth above thirty, arriveth unto his stature about six
  • years, and remaineth above ten moneths in the womb: so the Camel that
  • liveth unto fifty, goeth with young no less then ten moneths, and
  • ceaseth not to grow before seven; and so the Elephant that liveth an
  • hundred, beareth its young above a year, and arriveth unto perfection at
  • twenty. On the contrary, the Sheep and Goat, which live but eight or ten
  • years, go but five moneths, and attain to their perfection at two years;
  • and the like proportion is observable in Cats, Hares, and Conies. And so
  • the Deer that endureth the womb but eight moneths, and is compleat at
  • six years, from the course of Nature, we cannot expect to live an
  • hundred; nor in any proportional allowance much more then thirty. As
  • having already passed two general motions observable in all animations,
  • that is, its beginning and encrease; and having but two more to run
  • thorow, that is, its state and declination; which are proportionally set
  • out by Nature in every kind: and naturally proceeding admit of inference
  • from each other.
  • The other ground that brings its long life into question, is the
  • immoderate salacity, and almost unparallel'd excess of venery, which
  • every _September_ may be observed in this Animal: and is supposed to
  • shorten the lives of Cocks, Partridges, and Sparrows. Certainly a
  • confessed and undeniable enemy unto longævity, and that not only as a
  • sign in the complexional desire and impetuosity, but also as a cause in
  • the frequent act, or iterated performance thereof. For though we consent
  • not with that Philosopher, who thinks a spermatical emission unto the
  • weight of one drachm, is æquivalent unto the effusion of sixty ounces of
  • bloud; yet considering the exolution and languor ensuing that act in
  • some, the extenuation and marcour in others, and the visible
  • acceleration it maketh of age in most: we cannot but think it much
  • abridgeth our days. Although we also concede that this exclusion is
  • natural, that Nature it self will find a way hereto without either act
  • or object: And although it be placed among the six Non-naturals, that
  • is, such as neither naturally constitutive, nor meerly destructive, do
  • preserve or destroy according unto circumstance: yet do we sensibly
  • observe an impotency or total privation thereof, prolongeth life: and
  • they live longest in every kind that exercise it not at all. [SN:
  • _Eunuchs and gelded creatures generally longer lived._] And this is true
  • not only in Eunuchs by Nature, but Spadoes by Art: for castrated Animals
  • in every species are longer lived then they which retain their
  • virilities. For the generation of bodies is not meerly effected as some
  • conceive, of souls, that is, by Irradiation, or answerably unto the
  • propagation of light, without its proper diminution: but therein a
  • transmission is made materially from some parts, with the Idea of every
  • one: and the propagation of one, is in a strict acception, some
  • minoration of another. [SN: _From the parts of generation._] And
  • therefore also that axiom in Philosophy, that the generation of one
  • thing, is the corruption of another: although it be substantially true
  • concerning the form and matter, is also dispositively verified in the
  • efficient or producer.
  • As for more sensible arguments, and such as relate unto experiment: from
  • these we have also reason to doubt its age, and presumed vivacity: for
  • where long life is natural, the marks of age are late: and when they
  • appear, the journey unto death cannot be long. Now the age of Deer (as
  • _Aristotle_ not long ago observed) is best conjectured, by view of the
  • horns and teeth. From the horns there is a particular and annual account
  • unto six years: they arising first plain, and so successively branching:
  • after which the judgment of their years by particular marks becomes
  • uncertain. But when they grow old, they grow less branched, and first
  • do lose their ἀμυντῆρες or _propugnacula_; that is, their brow-antlers,
  • or lowest furcations next the head, which _Aristotle_ saith the young
  • ones use in fight: and the old as needless, have them not at all. The
  • same may be also collected from the loss of their Teeth, whereof in old
  • age they have few or none before in either jaw. Now these are infallible
  • marks of age, and when they appear, we must confess a declination: which
  • notwithstanding (as men inform us in _England_, where observations may
  • well be made), will happen between twenty and thirty. As for the bone,
  • or rather induration of the Roots of the arterial vein and great artery,
  • which is thought to be found only in the heart of an old Deer, and
  • therefore becomes more precious in its Rarity; it is often found in Deer
  • much under thirty, and we have known some affirm they have found it in
  • one of half that age. And therefore in that account of _Pliny_, of a
  • Deer with a Collar about his neck, put on by _Alexander_ the Great, and
  • taken alive an hundred years after, with other relations of this nature,
  • we much suspect imposture or mistake. And if we grant their verity, they
  • are but single relations, and very rare contingencies in individuals,
  • not affording a regular deduction upon the species. For though _Ulysses_
  • his Dog lived unto twenty, and the _Athenian_ Mule unto fourscore, yet
  • do we not measure their days by those years, or usually say, they live
  • thus long. Nor can the three hundred years of _John_ of times [SN:
  • _Psalm_ 90.], or _Nestor_, overthrow the assertion of _Moses_, or afford
  • a reasonable encouragement beyond his septuagenary determination.
  • The ground and authority of this conceit was first Hierogliphical, the
  • _Ægyptians_ expressing longævity by this Animal; but upon what
  • uncertainties, and also convincible falsities they often erected such
  • Emblems, we have elsewhere delivered. And if that were true which
  • _Aristotle_ delivers of his time [SN: Histor. animal. lib. 8.], and
  • _Pliny_ was not afraid to take up long after, the _Ægyptians_ could make
  • but weak observations herein; for though it be said that _Æneas_ feasted
  • his followers with Venison, yet _Aristotle_ affirms that neither Deer
  • nor Boar were to be found in _Africa_. And how far they miscounted the
  • lives and duration of Animals, is evident from their conceit of the
  • Crow, which they presume to live five hundred years; and from the lives
  • of Hawks, which (as _Ælian_ delivereth) the _Ægyptians_ do reckon no
  • less then at seven hundred.
  • The second which led the conceit unto the _Grecians_, and probably
  • descended from the Egyptians was Poetical; and that was a passage of
  • _Hesiod_, thus rendered by _Ausonius_.
  • _Ter binos deciesque novem super exit in annos,
  • Justa senescentum quos implet vita virorum.
  • Hos novies superat vivendo gorrula cornix,
  • Et quater egreditur cornicis sæcula cervus,
  • Alipidem cervum ter vincit corvus.----_
  • To ninety six the life of man ascendeth,
  • Nine times as long that of the Chough extendeth,
  • Four times beyond the life of Deer doth go,
  • And thrice is that surpassed by the Crow.
  • So that according to this account, allowing ninety six for the age of
  • Man, the life of a Deer amounts unto three thousand four hundred fifty
  • six. A conceit so hard to be made out, that many have deserted the
  • common and literal construction. So _Theon_ in _Aratus_ would have the
  • number of nine not taken strictly, but for many years. In other
  • opinions the compute so far exceedeth the truth, that they have thought
  • it more probable to take the word _Genea_, that is, a generation
  • consisting of many years, but for one year, or a single revolution of
  • the Sun; which is the remarkable measure of time, and within the compass
  • whereof we receive our perfection in the womb. So that by this
  • construction, the years of a Deer should be but thirty six, as is
  • discoursed at large in that Tract of _Plutarch_, concerning the
  • cessation of Oracles; and whereto in his discourse of the Crow,
  • _Aldrovandus_ also inclineth. Others not able to make it out, have
  • rejected the whole account, as may be observed from the words of
  • _Pliny_, _Hesiodus qui primus aliquid de longævitate vitæ prodidit,
  • fabulose (reor) multa de hominum ævo referens, cornici novem nostras
  • attribuit ætates, quadruplum ejus cervis, id triplicatum corvis, et
  • reliqua fabulosius de Phœnice et nymphis_. And this how slender
  • soever, was probably the strongest ground Antiquity had for this
  • longævity of Animals; that made _Theophrastus_ expostulate with Nature
  • concerning the long life of Crows; that begat that Epithete of Deer [SN:
  • τετρακόρωνος.] in _Oppianus_, and that expression of _Juvenal_,
  • _----Longa et cervina senectus._
  • The third ground was Philosophical, and founded upon a probable Reason
  • in Nature, that is, the defect of a Gall, which part (in the opinion of
  • _Aristotle_ and _Pliny_) this Animal wanted, and was conceived a cause
  • and reason of their long life: according (say they) as it happeneth unto
  • some few men, who have not this part at all. But this assertion is first
  • defective in the verity concerning the Animal alledged: for though it be
  • true, a Deer hath no Gall in the Liver like many other Animals, yet
  • hath it that part in the Guts, as is discoverable by taste and colour:
  • and therefore _Pliny_ doth well correct himself, when having affirmed
  • before it had no Gall, he after saith, some hold it to be in the guts;
  • and that for their bitterness, dogs will refuse to eat them. The
  • assertion is also deficient in the verity of the Induction or
  • connumeration of other Animals conjoined herewith, as having also no
  • Gall; that is, as _Pliny_ accounteth, _Equi_, _Muli_, etc. Horses,
  • Mules, Asses, Deer, Goats, Boars, Camels, Dolphins, have no Gall. In
  • Dolphins and Porpoces I confess I could find no Gall. But concerning
  • Horses, what truth there is herein we have declared before; as for Goats
  • we find not them without it; what Gall the Camel hath, _Aristotle_
  • declareth: that Hogs also have it, we can affirm; and that not in any
  • obscure place, but in the Liver, even as it is seated in man.
  • That therefore the Deer is no short-lived Animal, we will acknowledge:
  • that comparatively, and in some sense long-lived we will concede; and
  • thus much we shall grant if we commonly account its days by thirty six
  • or forty: for thereby it will exceed all other cornigerous Animals. But
  • that it attaineth unto hundreds, or the years delivered by Authors,
  • since we have no authentick experience for it, since we have reason and
  • common experience against it, since the grounds are false and fabulous
  • which do establish it: we know no ground to assent.
  • Concerning Deer there also passeth another opinion, that the Males
  • thereof do yearly lose their pizzel. For men observing the decidence of
  • their horns, do fall upon the like conceit of this part, that it
  • annually rotteth away, and successively reneweth again. Now the ground
  • hereof was surely the observation of this ἉἈ
  • part in Deer after immoderate
  • venery, and about the end of their Rut, which sometimes becomes so
  • relaxed and pendulous, it cannot be quite retracted: and being often
  • beset with flies, it is conceived to rot, and at last to fall from the
  • body. But herein experience will contradict us: for Deer which either
  • die or are killed at that time, or any other, are always found to have
  • that part entire. And reason will also correct us: for spermatical
  • parts, or such as are framed from the seminal principles of parents,
  • although homogeneous or similary, will not admit a Regeneration, much
  • less will they receive an integral restauration, which being organical
  • and instrumental members, consist of many of those. Now this part, or
  • Animal of _Plato_, containeth not only sanguineous and reparable
  • particles: but is made up of veins, nerves, arteries, and in some
  • Animals, of bones: whose reparation is beyond its own fertility, and a
  • fruit not to be expected from the fructifying part it self. Which
  • faculty were it communicated unto Animals, whose originals are double,
  • as well as unto Plants, whose seed is within themselves: we might abate
  • the Art of _Taliacotius_, and the new in-arching of Noses. And therefore
  • the fancies of Poets have been so modest, as not to set down such
  • renovations, even from the powers of their deities: for the mutilated
  • shoulder of _Pelops_ was pieced out with Ivory, and that the limbs of
  • _Hippolitus_ were set together, not regenerated by _Æsculapius_, is the
  • utmost assertion of Poetry.
  • CHAPTER X
  • Of the King-fisher.
  • That a King-fisher hanged by the bill, sheweth in what quarter the wind
  • is by an occult and secret propriety, converting the breast to that
  • point of the Horizon from whence the wind doth blow, is a received
  • opinion, and very strange; introducing natural Weather-cocks, and
  • extending Magnetical positions as far as Animal Natures. A conceit
  • supported chiefly by present practice, yet not made out by Reason or
  • Experience.
  • [Sidenote: _Whence it is, that some creatures presage the weather._]
  • Unto Reason it seemeth very repugnant, that a carcass or body
  • disanimated, should be so affected with every wind, as to carry a
  • conformable respect and constant habitude thereto. For although in
  • sundry Animals we deny not a kind of natural Meteorology or innate
  • presention both of wind and weather, yet that proceeding from sense
  • receiving impressions from the first mutation of the air, they cannot in
  • reason retain that apprehension after death, as being affections which
  • depend on life, and depart upon disanimation. And therefore with more
  • favourable Reason may we draw the same effect or sympathie upon the
  • Hedg-hog, whose presention of winds is so exact, that it stoppeth the
  • North or Southern hole of its nest, according to the prenotion of these
  • winds ensuing: which some men observing, have been able to make
  • predictions which way the wind would turn, and been esteemed hereby wise
  • men in point of weather. Now this proceeding from sense in the creature
  • alive, it were not reasonable to hang up an Hedg-hogs head, and to
  • expect a conformable motion unto its living conversion. And though in
  • sundry Plants their vertues do live after death, and we know that
  • Scammony, Rhubarb and Senna will purge without any vital assistance; yet
  • in Animals and sensible creatures, many actions are mixt, and depend
  • upon their living form, as well as that of mistion; and though they
  • wholly seem to retain unto the body, depart upon disunion. Thus
  • Glow-worms alive, project a lustre in the dark, which fulgour
  • notwithstanding ceaseth after death; and thus the Torpedo which being
  • alive stupifies at a distance, applied after death, produceth no such
  • effect; which had they retained in places where they abound, they might
  • have supplied Opium, and served as frontals in Phrensies.
  • As for experiment, we cannot make it out by any we have attempted; for
  • if a single King-fisher be hanged up with untwisted silk in an open
  • room, and where the air is free, it observes not a constant respect unto
  • the mouth of the wind, but variously converting, doth seldom breast it
  • right. If two be suspended in the same room, they will not regularly
  • conform their breasts, but oft-times respect the opposite points of
  • Heaven. And if we conceive that for exact exploration, they should be
  • suspended where the air is quiet and unmoved, that clear of impediments,
  • they may more freely convert upon their natural verticity; we have also
  • made this way of inquisition, suspending them in large and capacious
  • glasses closely stopped; wherein nevertheless we observed a casual
  • station, and that they rested irregularly upon conversion. Wheresoever
  • they rested, remaining inconverted, and possessing one point of the
  • Compass, whilst the wind perhaps had passed the two and thirty.
  • [Sidenote: _Commonly mistaken for the true Halcion, ours being rather
  • the Ispida._]
  • The ground of this popular practice might be the common opinion
  • concerning the vertue prognostick of these Birds; as also the natural
  • regard they have unto the winds, and they unto them again; more
  • especially remarkable in the time of their nidulation, and bringing
  • forth their young. For at that time, which happeneth about the brumal
  • Solstice, it hath been observed even unto a proverb, that the Sea is
  • calm, and the winds do cease, till the young ones are excluded; and
  • forsake their nest which floateth upon the Sea, and by the roughness of
  • winds might otherwise be overwhelmed. But how far hereby to magnifie
  • their prediction we have no certain rule; for whether out of any
  • particular prenotion they chuse to sit at this time, or whether it be
  • thus contrived by concurrence of causes and providence of Nature,
  • securing every species in their production, is not yet determined.
  • Surely many things fall out by the design of the general motor, and
  • undreamt of contrivance of Nature, which are not imputable unto the
  • intention or knowledge of the particular Actor. So though the seminality
  • of Ivy be almost in every earth, yet that it ariseth and groweth not,
  • but where it may be supported; we cannot ascribe the same unto the
  • distinction of the seed, or conceive any science therein which suspends
  • and conditionates its eruption. So if, as _Pliny_ and _Plutarch_ report,
  • the Crocodiles of _Ægypt_ so aptly lay their Eggs, that the Natives
  • thereby are able to know how high the floud will attain; it will be hard
  • to make out, how they should divine the extent of the inundation
  • depending on causes so many miles remote; that is, the measure of
  • showers in _Æthiopia_; and whereof, as _Athanasius_ in the life of
  • _Anthony_ delivers, the Devil himself upon demand could make no clear
  • prediction. So are there likewise many things in Nature, which are the
  • fore runners or signs of future effects, whereto they neither concur in
  • causality or prenotion, but are secretly ordered by the providence of
  • causes, and concurrence of actions collateral to their signations.
  • It was also a custome of old to keep these Birds in chests, upon opinion
  • that they prevented Moths; whether it were not first hanged up in Rooms
  • to such effects, is not beyond all doubt. Or whether we mistake not the
  • posture of suspension, hanging it by the bill, whereas we should do it
  • by the back; that by the bill it might point out the quarters of the
  • wind; for so hath _Kircherus_ described the Orbis and the Sea Swallow.
  • But the eldest custome of hanging up these birds was founded upon a
  • tradition that they would renew their feathers every year as though they
  • were alive: In expectation whereof four hundred years ago _Albertus
  • Magnus_ was deceived.
  • * * * * *
  • Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty
  • at the Edinburgh University Press
  • Transcriber's End Notes
  • Spelling has been left as it stands in the printed original from which
  • this text was prepared. Archaicisms are therefore retained, including
  • any variant spellings. The word 'then', for instance, is frequently
  • used in lieu of the modern 'than'.
  • In the Latin citations in the Annotator's notes, the semicolon is used
  • as an abbreviation for 'que', as "ingeniumq;". Though the semicolon
  • is printed closer to the preceding letter than in normal usage, no
  • attempt is made here to render it differently.
  • On occasion, the modern 'itself' and 'myself' are broken across a line
  • end without hyphenation (e.g., "it / self" on p. 335).
  • Obvious printing errors, including missing characters, that have been
  • corrected, are noted here:
  • Errors corrected:
  • p. xxii | _...l. 1, des Ess._ c. 14. | 'c' is italicized
  • | elsewhere.
  • p. 76 [ti]tle | missing letters supplied |
  • from context. |
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