I. Of Truth.

WHAT is Truth? ſaid jeſting Pilate, and would not ſtay for an anſwer. Certainly there be that delight in giddineſs, and count it a Bondage to fix a Belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well as in acting. And though the Sects of Philoſophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain diſcourſing Wits, which are of the ſame Veins, though there be not ſo much Blood in them, as was in thoſe of the Ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labour, which men take in finding out of Truth; nor again, that when it is found, it impoſeth upon Mens thoughts, that doth bring Lyes in favour; but a natural, though corrupt Love, of the Lye it ſelf. One of the later Schools of the Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a ſtand, to think what ſhould be in it, that Men ſhould love Lyes; where neither they make for pleaſure, as with Poets, nor for Advantage, as with the Merchant, but for the Lyes ſake. But I cannot tell. This ſame Truth is a Naked and Open day-light, that doth not ſhew the Masks, and Mummeries, and Triumphs of the World, half ſo ſtately and daintily as Candle-light. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a Pearl, that ſheweth beſt by day; but it will not riſe to the price of a Diamond or Carbuncle, that ſheweth beſt in varied Lights. A mixture of a Lye doth ever add pleaſure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of Mens minds vain Opinions, flattering Hopes, falſe Valuations, Imaginations as one would, and the like; but it would leave the minds of a number of Men, poor ſhrunken things, full of melancholy and indiſpoſition, and unpleaſing to themſelves? One of the Fathers in great ſeverity called Poeſie, Vinum Daemonum, becauſe it filleth the Imagination, and yet it is but with the ſhadow of a Lye. But it is not the Lye that paſſeth through the mind, but the Lye that ſinketh in, and ſettleth in it, that doth the hurt, ſuch as we ſpake of before. But howſoever theſe things are thus in Mens depraved judgments and affections; yet Truth, which only doth judge it ſelf, teacheth, that the enquiry of Truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it: the knowledge of Truth, which is the preſence of it: and the belief of Truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the ſoveraign good of Humane Nature. The firſt Creature of God in the works of the Days, was Light of the Senſe; the laſt was the Light of Reaſon; and his Sabbath-Work ever ſince, is the illumination of his Spirit. Firſt, he breathed light upon the face of the Matter or Chaos; then he breathed light into the face of Man; and ſtill he breatheth and inſpireth light into the face of his Choſen. The Poet that beautified the Sect, that was otherwiſe inferiour to the reſt, ſaith yet excellently well: It is a pleaſure to ſtand upon the ſhore, and to ſee Ships toſt upon the Sea; a pleaſure to ſtand in the Window of a Caſtle, and to ſee a Battel, and the adventure thereof below: but no pleaſure is comparable to the ſtanding upon the vantage-ground of Truth: (an Hill not to be commanded, and where the Air is always clear and ſerene:) and to ſee the Errors, and Wandrings, and Mists, and Tempeſts in the Vale below: So always that this proſpect be with Pity, and not with ſwelling or Pride. Certainly it is Heaven upon Earth, to have a Mans mind move in Charity, reſt in Providence, and turn upon the Poles • f Truth.

To paſs from Theological and Philoſophical Truth, to the Truth of Civil buſineſs, it will be acknowledged, even by thoſe that practiſe it not, that clear and round dealing is the honour of Mans nature, and that mixture of falſhood is like allay in Coin of Gold and Silver, which may make the Metal work the better, but it embaſeth it. For theſe winding and crooked courſes are the goings of the Serpent, which goeth baſely upon the Belly, and not upon the feet. There is no Vice that doth ſo cover a Man with ſhame, as to be found falſe and perfidious. And therefore Mountaigne ſaith prettily, when he enquired the reaſon, Why the word of the Lye ſhould be ſuch a diſgrace, and ſuch an odious charge: Saith he, If it be well weighed, To ſay that a Man lyeth, is as much as to ſay, that he is a Brave towards God, and a Coward towards Men. For a Lye faces God, and ſhrinks from Man. Surely the wickedneſs and Falſhood, and breach of Faith, cannot poſſibly be ſo highly expreſſed, as in that it ſhall be the laſt Peal, to call the Judgments of God upon the Generations of Men; it being foretold, that when Chriſt cometh, He ſhall not find faith upon the Earth.

II. Of Death.

MEN fear Death, as Children fear to go in the dark: And as that natural fear in Children is encreaſed with Tales, ſo is the other. Certainly the contemplation of Death, as the wages of ſin, and paſſage to another World, is Holy and Religious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto Nature, is weak. Yet in religious Meditations, there is ſometimes a mixture of vanity and ſuperſtition. You ſhall read in ſome of the Friers Books of Mortification, that a Man ſhould think with himſelf, what the pain is, if he have but his fingers end preſſed or tortured, and thereby imagine what the pains of Death are, when the whole body is corrupted and diſſolved; when many times Death paſſeth with leſs pain, than the torture of a Limb: For the moſt Vital parts are not the quickeſt of Senſe. And by him that ſpake only as a Philoſopher, and natural man, it was well ſaid; Pompa mortis magis terret, quam Mors ipſa, Groans, and Convulſions, and diſcoloured Face, and Friends weeping, and Blacks, and Obſequies, and the like, ſhew Death terrible. It is worthy the obſerving, that there is no paſſion in the mind of Man ſo weak, but it mates and maſters the fear of Death: and therefore Death is no ſuch terrible Enemy, when a Man hath ſo many attendants about him, that can win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over Death; Love ſlights it; Honour aſpireth to it; Grief flieth to it; Fear pre-occupateth it. Nay we read, after Otho the Emperor had ſlain himſelf, Pity (which is the tendereſt of Affections) provoked many to die, out of meer compaſſion to their Soveraign, and as the trueſt ſort of Followers. Nay, Seneca adds Niceneſs and Satiety; Cogita quandiu eadem faceres; Mori velle, non tantum Fortis, aut Miſer, ſed etiam Faſtidioſus poteſt. A man would die, though he were neither valiant nor miſerable, only upon a wearineſs to do the ſame thing fo oft over and over. It is no leſs worthy to obſerve, how little alteration in good Spirits the approaches of Death make. For they appear to be the ſame Men till the laſt inſtant. Auguſtus Caeſar died in a complement; Livia, Conjugii noſtri memor, vive, & vale. Tiberius in Diſſimulation, as Tacitus ſaith of him; Jam Tiberium Vires, & Corpus, non Diſſimulatio deſerebant. Veſpaſian in a jeſt, ſitting upon the ſtool; Ut puto, Deus ſio. Galba with a Sentence; Feri, ſi ex re ſit populi Romani, holding forth his neck. Septimius Sev • rus in diſpatch; Adeſte, ſi quid mihi reſtat agendum. And the like. Ce •• ainly the Stoicks beſtowed too much coſt upon Death, and by their great preparations made it appear more fearful. Better, ſaith he, Qui finem vitae extremum inter munera ponat Naturae. It is as natural to die, as to be born; and to a little infant perhaps the one is as painful as the other. He that dies in an earneſt purſuit, is like one that is wounded in hot blood, who for the time ſcarce feels the hurt; and therefore a Mind fixt, and bent upon ſomewhat that is good, doth avert the dolours of Death. But above all, believe it, the ſweeteſt Canticle is, Nunc dimittis, when a Man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath this alſo; that it openeth the Gate to good Fame, and extinguiſheth Envy.

—Extinctus amabitur idem.

III. Of Ʋnity in Religion.

REligion being the chief band of Humane Society, it is a happy thing when it ſelf is well contained within the true band of Unity. The Quarrels and Diviſions about Religion were Evils unknown to the Heathen. The reaſon was, becauſe the Religion of the Heathen conſiſted rather in Rites and Ceremonies, than in any conſtant belief. For you may imagine what kind of Faith theirs was, when the chief Doctors and Fathers of their Church were Poets. But the true God hath this Attribute, that he is a Jealous God, and therefore his Worſhip and Religion will endure no mixture or Partner. We ſhall therefore ſpeak a few words concerning the Unity of the Church; What are the Fruits thereof, what the Bonds, and what the Means.

The Fruits of Unity (next unto the well-pleaſing of God, which is All in All) are two; the one towards thoſe that are without the Church, the other towards thoſe that are within. For the former, It is certain, that Hereſies and Schiſms are of all others the greateſt Scandals, yea, more than corruption of Manners. For as in the Natural Body, a Wound or Solution of continuity, is worſe than a corrupt Humour; ſo in the Spiritual. So that nothing doth ſo much keep Men out of the Church, and drive men out of the Church as a breach of Unity: And therefore whenſoever it cometh to that paſs, that one ſaith, Ecce in deſerto, another ſaith, Ecce in penetralibus; that is, when ſome Men ſeek Chriſt in the Conventicles of Hereticks, and others in an outward face of a Church, that Voice had heed continually to ſound in Mens Ears, Nolite exire, Go not out. The Doctor of the Gentiles (the propriety of whoſe vocation drew him to have a ſpecial care of thoſe without) ſaith, If an Heathen come in and hear you ſpeak with ſeveral Tongues, will he not ſay that you are mad? and certainly it is little better, when Atheiſts and prophane perſons do hear of ſo many diſcordant and contrary Opinions in Religion; it doth avert them from the Church, and maketh them to ſit down in the Chair of the Scorners. It is but a light thing to be vouched in ſo ſerious a matter, but yet it expreſſeth well the deformity. There is a Maſter of Scoffing, that in his Catalogue of Books of a feigned Library, ſets down this Title of a Book, The Morrice-dance of Hereticks. For indeed every Sect of them hath a diverſe poſture, or cringe by themſelves, which cannot but move deriſion in Worldings, and depraved Politicks who are apt to contemn holy things.

As for the Fruit toward thoſe that are within. It is Peace, where containeth infinite Bleſſings; it eſtabliſheth Faith; it kindleth Charity; the outward peace of the Church diſtilleth into peace of Conſcience; and it turneth the Labours of Writing and Reading of Controverſies, into Treatiſes of Mortification and Devotion.

Concerning the Bonds of Unity, the true placing of them importeth exceedingly. There appear to be two extreams. For to certain Zelots all ſpeech of pacification is odious. Is it peace, Jehu? What haſt thou to do with peace? turn thee behind me. Peace is not the matter, but following a party. Contrariwiſe certain Laodiceans, and luke-warm perſons, think they may accommodate points of Religion by middle ways, and taking part of both, and witty reconcilements, as if they would make an arbitrement between God and Man. But theſe extreams are to be avoided; which will be done, if the league of Chriſtians, penned by our Saviour himſelf, were in the two croſs clauſes thereof, ſoundly and plainly expounded. He that is not with us, is againſt us: And again, He that is not against us, is with us: That is, if the points Fundamental, and of Subſtance in Religion, were truly diſcerned and diſtinguiſhed from points not meerly of Faith, but of Opinion, Order, or good Intention. This is a thing may ſeem to many a matter trivial, and done already; but if it were done leſs partially, it would be embraced more generally.

Of this I may give only this advice, according to my ſmall model: Men ought to take heed of rendring God's Church by two kinds of controverſies: The one is, when the matter of the point controverted is too ſmall and light, not worth the heat and ſtrife about it, kindled only by contradiction. For, as it is noted by one of the Fathers, Chriſt's Coat indeed had no ſeam, but the Churches Veſture was of divers colours; whereupon he ſaith, In veſte varietas ſit, ſciſſura non ſit; they be two things, Unity and Uniformity. The other is, when the matter of the point controverted is great, but it is driven to an overgreat ſubtilty and obſcurity, ſo that it becometh a thing rather ingenious than ſubſtantial. A Man that is of judgment and underſtanding, ſhall ſometimes hear ignorant Men differ, and know well within himſelf, that thoſe which ſo differ, mean one thing, and yet they themſelves would never agree. And if it come ſo to paſs, in that diſtance of judgment which is between Man and Man, ſhall we not think, that God above, that knows the heart, doth not diſcern that frail Men in ſome of their contradictions intend the ſame thing, and accepteth of both? The nature of ſuch controverſies is excellently expreſſed by St. Paul, in the warning and precept that he giveth concerning the ſame, Devita profanas vocum novitates, & oppoſitiones falſi nominis ſcientiae; Men create oppoſitions which are not, and put them into new terms ſo fixed, as whereas the meaning ought to govern the term, the term in effect governeth the meaning. There be alſo two falſe Peaces, or Unities; the one, when the Peace is grounded but upon an implicite ignorance; for all Colours will agree in the dark: the other when it is pieced up upon a direct admiſſion of contraries in Fundamental points. For Truth and Falſhood in ſuch things, are like the Iron and Clay in the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's Image, they may cleave, but they will not incorporate.

Concerning the Means of procuring Unity; Men muſt beware, that in the procuring or muniting of Religious Unity, they do not diſſolve and deface the Laws of Charity, and of Humane Society. There be two Swords amongſt Chriſtians, the Spiritual and Temporal; and both have their due office and place in the maintenance of Religion. But we may not take up the third Sword, which is Mahomet's Sword, or like unto it; that is, to propagate Religion by Wars, or by ſanguinary Perſecutions to force Conſciences, except it be in caſes of overt Scandal, blaſphemy or intermixture of practice againſt the State; much leſs to nouriſh Seditions, to authorize Conſpiracies and Rebellions, to put the Sword into the peoples hands, and the like, tending to the ſubverſion of all Government, which is the Ordinance of God. For this is but to daſh the Firſt Table againſt the Second, and ſo to conſider Men as Chriſtians, as we forget that they are Men. Lucretius the Poet, when he beheld the Act of Agamemnon, that could endure the ſacrificing of his own Daughter, exclaimed; Tantum Religio potuit ſuadere malorum. what would he have ſaid, if he had known of the Maſſacre in France, or the Powder-Treaſon of England? He would have been ſeven times more Epicure and Atheiſt than he was: For as the Temporal Sword is to be drawn with great circumſpection in caſes of Religion; ſo it is a thing monſtrous, to put it into the hands of the common people. Let that be left unto the Anabaptiſts, and other Furies. It was great blaſphemy, when the Devil ſaid, I will aſcend and be like the higheſt; but it is greater blaſphemy to perſonate God, and bring him in, ſaying, I will deſcend and be like the Prince of Darkneſs; And what is it better, to make the cauſe of Religion to deſcend to the cruel and execrable actions of Murthering Princes, Butchery of People, and Subverſion of States and Governments? Surely this is to bring down the Holy Ghoſt, inſtead of the likeneſs of a Dove, in the ſhape of a Vulture or Raven; and to ſet out of the Bark of a Chriſtian Church, a Flag of a Bark of Pyrates and Aſſaſſins. Therefore it is moſt neceſſary, that the Church by Doctrine and decree, Princes by their Sword, and all Learnings both Chriſtian and Moral, as by their Mercury Rod, do damn and ſend to Hell for ever thoſe Facts and Opinions, tending to the ſupport of the ſame, as hath been already in good part done. Surely in Councils concerning Religion, that Counſel of the Apoſtle would be prefixed, Ira hominis non implet juſtitiam Dei. And it was a notable obſervation of a wiſe Father, and no leſs ingeniouſly confeſſed, That thoſe which held and perſwaded preſſure of Conſciences, were commonly intereſſed therein themſelves for their own ends.

IV. Of Revenge.

REvenge is a kind of wild Juſtice; which the more Man's Nature runs to, the more ought Law to weed it out. For as to the firſt wrong, it doth but offend the Law, but the Revenge of that wrong putteth the Law out of Office. Certainly in taking Revenge, a Man is but even with his Enemy; but in paſſing it over he is ſuperiour: for it is a Princes part to pardon. And Solomon, I am ſure, ſaith, It is the Glory of a Man to paſs by an offence. That which is paſt, is gone, and irrecoverable; and wiſe Men have enough to do with things preſent, and to come: therefore they do but trifle with themſelves, that labour in paſt matters. There is no Man doth a wrong for the wrongs ſake, but thereby to purchaſe himſelf profit, or pleaſure, or honour, or the like. Therefore why ſhould I be angry with a Man for loving himſelf better than me? And if any Man ſhould do wrong meerly out of ill nature why? yet it is but like the Thorn or Bryar, which prick and ſcratch, becauſe they can do no other. The moſt tolerable ſort of Revenge, is for thoſe wrongs which there is no Law to remedy: But then let a man take heed, that the Revenge be ſuch, as there is no Law to puniſh; elſe a Man's Enemy is ſtill before-hand, and it is two for one. Some when they take Revenge, are deſirous the Party ſhould know whence it cometh: this is the more generous. For the delight ſeemeth to be not ſo much in doing the hurt, as in making the party repent. But baſe and crafty Cowards are like the Arrow that flieth in the dark. Coſmus Duke of Florence had a deſperate ſaying againſt perfidious or neglecting Friends, as if thoſe wrongs were unpardonable: You ſhall read (ſaith he) that we are commanded to forgive our Enemies; but you never read, that we are commanded to forgive our Friends. But yet the Spirit of Job was in a better tune; ſhall we (ſaith he) take good at God's hand, and not be content to take evil alſo? And ſo of Friends in a proportion. This is certain, that a Man that ſtudieth Revenge, keeps his own wounds green, which otherwiſe would heal, and do well: Publick Revenges are for the moſt part Fortunate, as that for the death of Caeſar, for the death of Pertinax, for the death of Henry the Third of France, and many more. But in private Revenges it is not ſo. Nay, rather vindicative perſons live the life of Witches; who as they are miſchievous, ſo end they unfortunate.

V. Of Adverſity.

IT was an high Speech of Seneca, (after the manner of the Stoicks) That the good things which belong to proſperity are to be wiſhed, but the good things that belong to adverſity are to he admired: Bona rerum ſecundarum optabilia, adverſarum mirabilia. Certainly, if Miracles be the command over Nature, they appear moſt in Adverſity. It is yet a higher Speech of his, than the other, (much too high for a Heathen) It is true greatneſs to have in 〈◊〉 the frailty of a Man, and the ſecurity of a God; Vere mag •• m habere fragilitatem hominis, ſecuritatem Dei. This wou •• have done better in Poeſie, where tranſcendencies 〈◊〉 more allowed. And the Poets indeed have been buſie with it; for it is in effect the thing, which is figured in that ſtrange Fiction of the ancient Poets, which ſeemeth not to be without myſtery; nay, and to have ſome approach to the State of a Chriſtian: That Hercules, when he went to unbind Prometheus) by whom Humane Nature is repreſented) ſailed the length of the great Ocean in an Earthen Pot or Pitcher; Lively deſcribing Chriſtian reſolution, that ſaileth in the frail Bark of the Fleſh, through the waves of the World. But to ſpeak in a mean: The Vertue of Proſperity is Temperance, the Vertue of Adverſity is Fortitude, which in Morals is the more heroical Vertue. Proſperity is the Bleſſing of the Old Teſtament, Adverſity is the Bleſſing of the New, which carrieth the greater Benediction, and the clearer Revelation of God's favour. Yet even in the Old Teſtament, if you liſten to David's Harp, you ſhall hear as many Hearſe-like Airs, as Carols. And the Pencil of the Holy Ghoſt hath laboured more in deſcribing the Afflictions of Job, than the Felicities of Solomon. Proſperity is not without many fears and diſtaſtes; and Adverſity is not without comforts and hopes. We ſee in Needle-works and Embroyderies, it is more pleaſing to have a lively work upon a ſad and ſolemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy Work upon a lightſome ground. Judge therefore of the pleaſure of the Heart, by the pleaſure of the Eye. Certainly Vertue is like precious Odours▪ moſt fragrant when they are incenſed or cruſhed: For Proſperity doth beſt diſcover Vice, but Adverſity doth beſt diſcover Vertue.

VI. Of Simulation and Diſſimulation.

DIſſimulation is but a faint kind of Policy or Wiſdom; for it asketh a ſtrong Wit and a ſtrong Heart, to know when to tell truth, and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker ſort of Politicks, that are the great Diſſemblers.

Tacitus ſaith, Livia ſorted well with the Arts of her Husband and Diſſimulation of her Son; attributing Arts or Policy to Auguſtus, and Diſſimulation to Tiberius. And again, when Mucianus encourageth Veſpaſian to take Arms againſt Vitellius, he ſaith, We riſe not againſt the piercing Judgment of Auguſtus, nor the extream Caution or Cloſeneſs of Tiberius. Theſe properties of Arts, or Policy and Diſſimulation, or Cloſeneſs, are indeed habits and faculties, ſeveral, and to be diſtinguiſhed. For if a man have that penetration of Judgment, as he can diſcern, what things are to be laid open, and what to be ſecreted, and what to be ſhewed at half lights, and to whom, and when (which indeed are Arts of State, and Arts of Life, as Tacitus well calleth them) to him; a habit of Diſſimulation is a hindrance, and a poorneſs. But if a Man cannot attain to that Judgment, then it is left to him generally to be Cloſe, and a Diſſembler. For where a man cannot chuſe or vary in Particulars, there it is good to take the ſafeſt and wearieſt way in general; like the going ſoftly by one that cannot well ſee. Certainly the ableſt Men that ever were, have had all an openneſs and frankneſs of dealing, and a Name of Certainty and Veracity: but then they were like Horſes, well managed; for they could tell paſſing well, when to ſtop or turn; And at ſuch times, when they thought the caſe indeed required Diſſimulation, if then they uſed it, it came to paſs, that the former Opinion ſpread abroad of their good faith, and clearneſs of dealing, made them almoſt inviſible.

There are three degrees of this hiding and veiling of Mans ſelf. The firſt Cloſeneſs, Reſervation, and Secrecy; when a Man leaveth himſelf without obſervation, or without hold to be taken what he is. The Second Diſſimulation in the Negative, when a Man lets fall Signs and Arguments, that he is not that he is. And the third Simulation in the Affirmative, when a Man induſtriouſly and expreſly feigns and pretends to be that he is not.

For the firſt of theſe, Secrecy: It is indeed the vertue of a Confeſſor; and aſſuredly the Secret Man heareth many Confeſſions: For who will open himſelf to a Blab, or a Babler? But if a man be thought Secret, it inviteth diſcovery, as the more cloſe Air ſucketh in the more open: And as in confeſſion, the revealing is not for worldly uſe, but for the eaſe of a Mans heart; ſo Secret, Men come to the knowledge of many things in that kind, while Men rather diſcharge their minds, than impart their minds. In few words, Myſteries are due to Secrecy. Beſides (to ſay truth) Nakedneſs is uncomely, as well in mind as in body; and it addeth no ſmall reverence to Mens manners and actions, if they be not altogether open. As for Talkers, and Futile perſons, they are commonly vain, and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, will alſo talk what he knoweth not. Therefore ſet it down, that an habit of Secrecy is both politick and moral. And in this part it is good, that a Mans face give his tongue leave to ſpeak. For the diſcovery of Mans ſelf, by the tracts of his countenance, is a great weakneſs and betraying, by how much it is many times more marked and believed, than a Mans words.

For the ſecond, which is Diſſimulation: It followed many times upon Secrecy by a neceſſity; ſo that he tha • will be Secret, muſt be a Diſſembler in ſome degree. Fo • men are too cunning, to ſuffer a man to keep an indifferent carriage between both, and to be Secret withou • ſwaying the ballance on either ſide. They will ſo befo •• a Man with queſtions, and draw him on, and pick it ou • of him, that without an abſurd ſilence, he muſt ſhew 〈◊〉 inclination one way; or if he do not, they will gather as much by his Silence, as by his Speech: As for Equivocations, or Oraculous Speeches, they cannot hold ou • long: ſo that no man can be Secret, except he give himſelf a little ſcope of Diſſimulation, which is, as it were, bu • the skirts or train of Secrecy.

But for the third degree, which is Simulation, and falſe profeſſion: That I hold more culpable, and leſs politick, except it be in great and rare matters. And therefore a general cuſtom of Simulation (which is this laſt degree) is a Vice, riſing either of a natural falſeneſs or fearfulneſs, or of a mind that hath ſome main faults; which becauſe a man muſt needs diſguiſe, it maketh him practiſe Simulation in other things, leſt his hand ſhould be out of uſe.

The great advantages of Simulation and Diſſimulation are three. Firſt, To lay aſleep oppoſition, and to ſurpriſe: For where a Mans intentions are publiſhed, it is an alarm to call up all that are againſt them. The ſecond is, to reſerve to a Mans ſelf a fair retreat: For if a man engage himſelf by a manifeſt Declaration, he muſt go through, or take a fall. The third is, the better to diſcover the mind of another: For to him that opens himſelf, Men will hardly ſhew themſelves averſe, but will (fair) let him go on, and turn their freedom of ſpeech to freedom of thought. And therefore it is a good ſhrewd Proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a Lye, and find a Truth; as if there were no way of diſcovery, but by Simulation.

There be alſo three diſadvantages to ſet it even. The firſt, That Simulation and Diſſimulation commonly carry with them a ſhew of fearfulneſs, which in any buſineſs doth ſpoil the feathers of round flying up to the mark. The ſecond, That it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many, that perhaps would otherwiſe co-operate with him, and makes a man walk almoſt alone to his own ends. The third and greateſt is, That it depriveth a man of one of the moſt principal inſtruments for action, which is Truſt and Belief. The compoſition and temperature is, to have Openneſs in fame and opinion, Secrecy in habit, Diſſimulation in ſeaſonable uſe, and a power to feign, if there be no remedy.

VII. Of Parents and Children.

THE joys of Parents are ſecret, and ſo are their griefs and fears; they cannot utter the one, nor they will not utter the other. Children ſweeten labours, but they make misfortunes more bitter: they increaſe the cares of Life, but they mitigate the remembrance of Death. The perpetuity by generation is common to Beaſts; but memory, merit, and noble works are proper to Men: and ſurely a man ſhall ſee the nobleſt Works and Foundations have proceeded from Childleſs Men, which have ſought to expreſs the Images of their minds, where thoſe of their bodies have failed: So the care of poſterity is moſt in them that have no poſterity. They that are the firſt raiſers of their Houſes, are moſt indulgent towards their Children; beholding them as the continuance, not only of their kind, but of their work, and ſo both Children and Creatures.

The difference in affection of Parents towards their ſeval Children, is many times unequal, and ſometimes unworthy, eſpecially in the Mother; as Solomon ſaith, A wiſe Son rejoyceth the Father, but an ungracious Son ſhames th • Mother. A man ſhall ſee, where there is a Houſe full of Children, one or two of the eldeſt reſpected, and the youngeſt made wantons; but in the midſt, ſome that are as it were forgotten, who many times nevertheleſs prove the beſt. The illiberality of Parents in allowance towards their Children, is an harmful error, makes them baſe, acquaints them with ſhifts, makes them ſort with mean company, and makes them ſurfeit more when they come to plenty: and therefore the proof is beſt, when men keep their authority towards their Children, but not their purſe. Men have a fooliſh manner (both Parents, and School-Maſters, and Servants) in creating and breeding an emulation between Brothers, during Childhood, which many times ſorteth to diſcord when they are men, and diſturbeth Families. The Italians make little difference between Children and Nephews, or near Kinsfolks; but ſo they be of the lump they care not, though they paſs not through their own body. And to ſay truth, in Nature it is much alike matter, inſomuch that we ſee a Nephew ſometimes reſembleth an Uncle, or a Kinſman, more than his own Parent, as the blood happens. Let Parents chuſe betimes the vocations and courſes they mean their Children ſhould take, for then they are moſt flexible; and let them not too much apply themſelves to the diſpoſition of their Children, as thinking they will take beſt to that which they have moſt mind to. It is true, that if the affection or aptneſs of the Children be extraordinary, then it is good not to croſs it: but generally the precept is good, Optimum elige, ſuave & facil • illud facit conſuetudo, younger Brothers are commonly fortunate, but ſeldom or never where the elder are diſinherited.

VIII. Of Marriage and Single Life.

HE that hath Wife and Children, hath given hoſtages to Fortune, for they are impediments to great enterpriſes, either of Vertue or Miſchief. Certainly the beſt works, and of greateſt merit for the publick, have proceeded from the unmarried or Childleſs Men, which both in affection and means have married and endowed the publick. Yet it were great reaſon, that thoſe that have Children, ſhould have greateſt care of future times, unto which they know they muſt tranſmit their deareſt pledges. Some there are, who though they lead a Single Life, yet their thoughts do end with themſelves, and account future times impertinencies. Nay, there are ſome other, that account Wife and Children but as Bills of Charges. Nay, more, there are ſome fooliſh rich covetous men, that take pride in having no Children, becauſe they may be thought ſo much the richer. For perhaps they have heard ſome talk, Such an one is a great rich Man; and another except to it, Yea, but he hath a great charge of Children; as if it were an abatement to his riches. But the moſt ordinary cauſe of a Single Life is Liberty, eſpecially in certain ſelf pleaſing and humorous minds, which are ſo ſenſible of every reſtraint, as they will go near to think their Girdles and Garters to be Bonds and Shackles. Unmarried men are beſt Friends, beſt Maſters, beſt Servants, but not always beſt Subjects; for they are light 〈◊〉 run away, and almoſt all Fugitives are of that condition. A ſingle life doth well with Church-men: for Charity will hard • y water the Ground, where it muſt firſt fill a Pool. It is indifferent for Judges and Magiſtrates; for if they be facile and corrupt, you ſhall have a Servant five times worſe than a Wife. For Souldiers, I find the Generals commonly in their hortatives put men in mind of their Wives and Children. And I think the deſpiſing of Marriage amongſt the Turks, making the vulgar Souldier more baſe. Certainly Wife and Children are a kind of humanity; and Single men, though they be many times more charitable, becauſe their means are leſs exhauſt: yet on the other ſide, they are more cruel and hard hearted, (good to make ſevere Inquiſitors) becauſe their tenderneſs is not ſo oft called upon. Grave natures, led by cuſtom, and therefore conſtant, are commonly loving Husbands; as was ſaid of Ulyſſes, Vetulam ſuam praetulit immortalitati. Chaſt Women are often proud and froward, as preſuming upon the merit of their chaſtity. It is one of the beſt bonds both of chaſtity and obedience in the Wife, if ſhe thinks her Husband wiſe, which ſhe will never do, if ſhe find him jealous. Wives are young mens Miſtriſſes, Companions for middle Age, and old mens Nurſes; ſo as a man may have a quarrel to marry when he will. But yet he was reputed one of the wiſe men, that made anſwer to the queſtion; When a man ſhould marry? A young man not yet, an elder man not at all. It is often ſeen, that bad Husbands have very good Wives; whether it be, that it raiſeth the price of their Husbands kindneſs when it comes, or that the Wives take a pride in their patience. But this never fails, if the bad Husbands were of their own chuſing, againſt their Friends conſent; for then they will be ſure to make good their own folly.

IX. Of Envy.

THERE be none of the Affections, which have been noted to facinate or bewitch, but Love and Envy. They both have vehement wiſhes, they frame themſelves readily into imaginations and ſuggeſtions; and they come eaſily into the eye, eſpecially upon the preſence of the objects, which are the points that conduce to faſcination, if any ſuch thing there be. We ſee likewiſe the Scripture calleth Envy, an evil eye; and the Aſtrologers call the evil influences of the Stars, Evil Aſpects; ſo that ſtill there ſeemeth to be acknowledged in the act of Envy, an ejaculation or irradiation of the Eye. Nay, ſome have been ſo curious, as to note, that the times, when the ſtroke or percuſſion of an Envious Eye doth moſt hurt, are, when the Party envied is beheld in Glory or Triumph; for that ſets an edge upon Envy: And beſides, at ſuch times the ſpirits of the Perſon envied do come forth moſt into the outward parts, and ſo meet the blow.

But leaving theſe curioſities, (though not unworthy to be thought on in fit place) we will handle, What Perſons are apt to envy others, what Perſons are moſt ſubject to be envied themſelves, and what is the difference between publick and private Envy.

A man that hath no virtue in himſelf, ever envieth virtue in others. For mens minds will either feed upon their own good, or upon others evil; and who wanteth the one, will pray upon the other; and who ſo is out of hope to attain to anothers vertue, will ſeek to come at even-hand by depreſſing anothers Fortune.

A man that is buſie and inquiſitive, is commonly Envious: for to know much of other mens matters cannot be, becauſe all that ado may concern his eſtate; therefore it muſt needs be, that he taketh a kind of playpleaſure in looking upon the fortunes of others; neither can he that mindeth but his own buſineſs, find much matter for Envy: For Envy is a gadding paſſion, and walketh the Streets, and doth not keep home, Non eſt curioſus, quin idem ſit malevolus.

Men of noble Birth are noted to be envious towards new Men when they riſe: For the diſtance is altered; and it is like a deceit of the eye, that when others come on, they think themſelves go back.

Deformed perſons, and Eunuchs, and old Men, and Baſtards are envious: for he that cannot poſſibly mend his own caſe, will do what he can to impair anothers, except theſe defects light upon a very brave and heroical nature, which thinketh to make his natural wants part of his honour; in that it ſhould be ſaid, that an Eunuch, or lame man, did ſuch great matters, affecting the honour of a miracle, as it was in Narſes the Eunuch, and Ageſilaus, and Tamberlanes, that were lame men.

The ſame is the caſe of men that riſe after calamities and misfortunes; for they are as men fallen out with the times, and think other mens harms a Redemption of their own ſufferings.

They that deſire to excel in too many matters, out of levity and vain glory, are ever Envious; For they cannot want work, it being impoſſible but many in ſome one of thoſe things ſhould ſurpaſs them; which was the character of Adrian the Emperour, that mortally envied Poets and Painters, and Artificers in works wherein he had a vein to excel.

Laſtly, near Kinsfolks and Fellows in Office, and thoſe that have been bred together, are more apt to Envy their equals, when they are raiſed: For it doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes, and pointeth at them, and cometh oftner into their remembrance, and incurreth likewiſe more into the note of others; and Envy ever redoubleth from Speech and Fame. Cain's Envy was the more vile and malignant towards his Brother Abel, becauſe when his Sacrifice was better accepted, there was no body to look on. Thus much for thoſe that are apt to Envy.

Concerning thoſe that are more or leſs ſubject to Envy: Firſt, Perſons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced are leſs envied: For their fortune ſeemeth but due unto them; and no man envyeth the payment of a Debt, but Rewards and Liberality rather. Again, Envy is ever joyned with the comparing of a man's ſelf; and where there is no compariſon, no Envy; and therefore Kings are not envied, but by Kings. Nevertheleſs it is to be noted, that unworthy perſons are moſt envied at their firſt coming in, and afterwards overcome it better; whereas contrariwiſe, Perſons of worth and merit are moſt envied, when their fortune continueth long. For by that time, though their virtue be the ſame, yet it hath not the ſame Luſtre; for freſh men grow up that darken it.

Perſons of noble blood are leſs envied in their riſing; for it ſeemeth but right done to their Birth. Beſides, there ſeemeth not much added to their fortune; and Envy is as the Sun-beams, that beat hotter upon a Bank or ſteep riſing Ground, than upon a Flat. And for the ſame reaſons, thoſe that are advanced by degrees are leſs envied, than thoſe that are advanced ſuddenly, and per ſaltum.

Thoſe that have joyned with their Honour great Travels, Cares or Perils, are leſs ſubject to Envy: For men think that they earn their Honours hardly, and pity them ſometimes; and Pity ever healeth Envy: Wherefore you ſhall obſerve, that the more deep and ſober ſort of politick Perſons in their greatneſs, are ever bemoaning themſelves, what a life they lead, chanting Quanta patimur. Not that they feel it ſo, but only to abate the edge of Envy. But this is to be underſtood of buſineſs that is laid upon men, and not ſuch as they call unto themſelves. For nothing increaſeth Envy more than an unneceſſary and ambitious engroſſing of buſineſs; and nothing doth extinguiſh Envy more, than for a great Perſon to preſerve all other inferior Officers in their full rights and preheminencies of their places: for by that means there be ſo many Skreens between him and Envy.

Above all, thoſe are moſt ſubject to Envy which carry the greatneſs of their fortunes in an inſolent and proud manner, being never well but while they ar • ſhewing how great they are, either by outward pomp, or by triumphing over all oppoſition or competition▪ whereas wiſe men will rather do Sacrifice to Envy, in ſuffering themſelves ſometimes of purpoſe to be croſt and over-born of things that do not much concern them. Notwithſtanding ſo much is true, That the carriage of greatneſs in a plain and open manner (ſo it be without arrogancy and vain-glory) doth draw leſs Envy, than if it be in a more crafty and cunning faſhion. For in that courſe a man doth but diſavow fortune, and ſeemeth to be conſcious of his own want in worth, and doth but teach others to Envy him.

Laſtly, To conclude this part; As we ſaid in the beginning, that the Act of Envy had ſomewhat in it of witchcraft, ſo there is no other cure of Envy but the cure of witchcraft; and that is, to remove the Lot (as they call it) and to lay it upon another. For which purpoſe, the wiſer ſort of great Perſons, bring in ever upon the Stage ſome body upon whom to drive the Envy that would come upon themſelves; ſometimes upon Miniſters and Servants, ſometimes upon Colleagues and Aſſociates, and the like; and for that turn there are never wanting ſome Perſons of violent and undertaking Natures, who, ſo they may have Power and Buſineſs, will take it at any coſt.

Now to ſpeak of publick Envy. There is yet ſome good in publick Envy; whereas in private there is none. For publick Envy is an Oſtraciſm, that eclipſeth men when they grow too great. And therefore it is a bridle alſo to great ones, to keep them within bounds.

This Envy being in the Latine word Invidia, goeth in the modern Languages by the name of Diſcontentment, of which we ſhall ſpeak in handling Sedition. It is a diſeaſe in a State like to infection; for as infection ſpreadeth upon that which is ſound, and tainteth it; ſo when Envy is gotten once in a State, it traduceth even the beſt actions thereof, and turneth them into an ill odour. And therefore there is little won by intermingling of plauſible actions. For that doth argue but a weakneſs and fear of Envy, which hurteth ſo much the more, as it is likewiſe uſual in infections; which if you fear them, you call them upon you.

This publick Envy ſeemeth to bear chiefly upon principal Officers or Miniſters, rather than upon Kings and Eſtates themſelves. But this is a ſure rule, that if the Envy upon the Miniſters be great, when the cauſe of it in him is ſmall; or if the Envy be general, in a manner, upon all the Miniſters of an Eſtate, then the Envy (though hidden) is truly upon the State it ſelf. And ſo much of publick Envy or Diſcontentment, and the difference thereof from private Envy, which was handled in the firſt place.

We will add this in general, touching the Affection of Envy; that, of all other Affections, it is the moſt importune and continual. For of other Affections there is occaſion given but now and then. And therefore it was well ſaid, Invidia feſtos dies non agit. For it is ever working upon ſome or other. And it is alſo noted, that Love and Envy do make a man pine, which other Affections do not; becauſe they are not ſo continual. It is alſo the vileſt Affection, and the moſt depraved: for which cauſe it is the proper Attribute of the Devil, who is called the envious Man, that ſoweth Tares amongſt the Wheat by night: as it always cometh to paſs, that Envy worketh ſubtilly, and in the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, ſuch as is the Wheat.

X. Of Love.

THE Stage is more beholding to Love than the Life of Man. For, as to the Stage, Love is even matter of Comedies, and now and then of Tragedies: but in Life it doth much miſchief; ſometimes like a Syren • ſometimes like a Fury. You may obſerve, that amongſt all the great and worthy perſons (whereof the Memory remaineth, either Ancient or Recent) there is not one that hath been tranſported to the mad degree of Love: which ſhew, that great Spirits, and great Buſineſs, do keep out this weak Paſſion. You muſt except nevertheleſs, Marcus Antonius, the half Partner of the Empire of Rome; and Appius Claudius the Decemvir, the Law-giver: whereof the former was indeed a Voluptuous Man, and Inordinate; but the Latter was an Auſtere and Wiſe Man. And therefore it ſeems, (though rarely) that Love can find entrance, not only into an open Heart, but alſo into a Heart well fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor ſaying of Epicurus, Satis magnum Alter Alteri Theatrum ſumus. As if Man, made for the contemplation of Heaven, and all noble Objects, ſhould do nothing but kneel before a little Idol, and make himſelf a Subject, though not of the Mouth (as Beaſts are) yet of the Eye, which was given him for higher purpoſes. It is a ſtrange thing to note the Exceſs of this paſſion; and how it braves the Nature and value of things by this, that the ſpeaking in a perpetual Hyperbole is comely in nothing but in Love. Neither is it meerly in the Phraſe: for, whereas it hath been well ſaid, that the Arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a Man's ſelf; certainly, the Love is more. For there was never a proud Man thought ſo abſurdly well of himſelf, as the Lover doth of the Perſon Loved: and therefore it was well ſaid, that it is impoſſible to Love, and to be wiſe. Neither doth this weakneſs appear to others only, and not to the Party Loved: but to the Loved moſt of all; except the Love be reciproque: for it is a true rule, that Love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque, or with an inward and ſecret Contempt. By how much the more men ought to beware of this Paſſion, which loſeth not only other things, but it ſelf. As for the other loſſes, the Poets Relation doth well figure them; that he that preferreth Helena, quitteth the gifts of Juno and Pallas. For whoſoever eſteemeth too much of amorous affection, quitteth both Riches and Wiſdom. This Paſſion hath his Floods in the very times of weakneſs: which are great Proſperity, and great Adverſity; though this latter hath been leſs obſerved. Both which times kindle Love, and make it more frequent, and therefore ſhew it to be the Child of Folly. They do beſt, who, if they cannot but admit Love; yet make it keep Quarter, and ſever it wholly from their ſerious Affairs and Actions of Life: for if it check once with Buſineſs, it troubleth mens Fortunes, and maketh men that they can no ways be true to their own Ends. I know not how, but martial men are given to Love; I think it is but as they are given to Wine; for Perils commonly ask to be paid in Pleaſures. There is in a mans Nature a ſecret Inclination and Motion towards Love of others; which if it be not ſpent upon ſome one, or a few, doth naturally ſpread it ſelf towards many, and maketh men become Humane and Charitable; as it is ſeen ſometime in Friars. Nuptial Love maketh Mankind; Friendly Love perfecteth it; but wanton Love corrupteth and embaſeth it.

XI. Of Great Place.

MEN in Great Place are thrice Servants: Servants of the Soveraign or State; Servants of Fame; and Servants of Buſineſs. So as they have no Freedom, either in their Perſons, nor in their Actions, nor in their Times. It is a ſtrange deſire to ſeek Power, and to loſe Liberty; or to ſeek Power over others, and to loſe Power over a Mans ſelf. The Riſing unto Place is laborious; and by Pains men come to greater Pains: and it is ſometimes baſe; and by Indignities men come to Digniti •• ▪ The Standing is Slippery, and the Regreſs is either▪ Downfall, or at leaſt an Eclipſe, which is a melanch • ly thing. Cum non ſis, qui fueris, non eſſe, cur velis vi •• re. Nay, retire men cannot when they would; n •• ther will they, when it were Reaſon: but are impatient of Privateneſs, even in Age and Sickneſs, whic • require the Shadow: Like old Townſmen; that 〈◊〉 be ſtill ſitting at their Street Door, though thereby they offer Age to Scorn. Certainly Great Perſons had nee • to borrow other mens Opinions, to think themſelve • happy; for if they judge by their own feeling, they cannot find it: but if they think with themſelves wh •• other men think of them, and that other men woul • fain be as they are, then they are happy, as it were by report; when perhaps they find the contrary within▪ For they are the firſt that find their own griefs; though they be the laſt that find their own fault. Certainly Men, in great Fortunes are ſtrangers to themſelves, an • while they are in the puzzle of Buſineſs, they have n • time to tend their Health, either of body or mind. I • Mors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus mor • tur ſibi. In Place, there is licence to do Good and Evil, whereof the latter is a curſe; for in Evil, the beſt condition is not to Will, the ſecond not to Can. But Power to do good, is the true and lawful end of aſpiring: for good thoughts (though God accept them,) yet towards Men are little better than good dreams, except they be put in Act; and that cannot be without Power and Place, as the Vantage and Commanding Ground Merit and good Works is the end of mans motion; and Conſcience of the ſame is the accompliſhment of mans reſt: for if a man can be partaker of God's Theater; he ſhall likewiſe be partaker of God's Reſt. Et converſus Deus, ut aſpiceret opera, quae fecerunt manus ſuae, vidit quod omnia eſſent bona nimis; And then the Sabbath. In the Diſcharge of thy Place, ſet before thee the beſt Examples; for Imitation is a Globe of Precepts. And after a time ſet before thee thine own Example; and examine thy ſelf ſtrictly whether thou didſt not beſt at firſt. Neglect not alſo the Examples of thoſe that have carried themſelves ill in the ſame Place: not to ſet off thy ſelf by taxing their memory; but to direct thy ſelf what to avoid. Reform therefore without bravery or ſcandal of former Times and Perſons; but yet ſet it down to thy ſelf, as well to create good precedents as to follow them. Reduce things to the firſt Inſtitution, and obſerve wherein, and how they have degenerated; but yet ask Counſel of both Times, of the Ancienter Time what is beſt, and of the Latter Time what is fitteſt. Seek to make thy Courſe Regular, that men may know before-hand what they may expect, but be not too poſitive and peremptory; and expreſs thy ſelf well when thou digreſſeſt from thy Rule. Preſerve the right of thy Place, but ſtir not queſtions of Juriſdiction; and rather aſſume thy Right in Silence and de facto, than voice it with Claims and Challenges. Preſerve likewiſe the Right of Inferior Places; and think it more Honour to direct in chief, than to be buſie in all. Embrace and invite Helps and Advices, touching the Execution of thy Place: and do not drive away ſuch as bring Information, as medlers, but accept of them in good part. The Vices of Authority are chiefly four: Delays, Corruption, Roughneſs and Faction. For Delays, Give eaſie acceſs, Keep Times appointed, Go through with that which is in hand, and interlace not buſineſs but of neceſſity. For Corruption, Not only bind thine own hands, or thy Servants hands from taking, but bind the hands of Suitors alſo from offering: For integrity uſed, doth the one; but Integrity profeſſed, and with a manifeſt deteſtation of Bribery, doth the other; and avoid not only the Fault, but the Suſpicion. Whoſoever is found variable, and changeth manifeſtly, without manifeſt Cauſe, giveth ſuſpicion of Corruption. Therefore always when thou changeſt thine opinion or courſe, profeſs it plainly, and declare it, together with the Reaſons that move thee to change, and do not think to ſteal it. A Servant, or a Favourite, if he be inward, and no other apparent Cauſe of Eſteem, is commonly thought but a By-way to cloſe Corruption. For Roughneſs, It is a needleſs cauſe of Diſcontent; Severity breedeth Fear, but Roughneſs breedeth Hate. Even Reproofs from Authority ought to be grave, and not taunting. As for Facility, It is worſe than Bribery: for Bribes come but now and then; but if Importunity, or idle Reſpects lead a Man, he ſhall never be without, as Solomon ſaith, To reſpect Perſons is not good; for ſuch a Man will tranſgreſs for a piece of bread. It is moſt true that was ancily ſpoken; A Place ſheweth the Man: and it ſheweth ſome to the better, and ſome to the worſe: Omnium conſenſu; capax Imperii, niſi imperaſſet; ſaith Tacitus of Galba: but of Veſpaſian he ſaith, Solus imperantium Veſpaſianus mutatus in melius. Though the one was meant of Sufficiency, the other of Manners and Affection. It is an aſſured Sign of a worthy and generous Spirit, whom Honour amends: for Honour is, or ſhould be, the place of Vertue; and as in Nature things move violently to their place, and calmly in their place: ſo Vertue in Ambition is violent, in Authority ſettled and calm. All riſing to Great Place, is by a winding Stair; and if there be Factions, it is good to ſide a Mans ſelf, whilſt he is in the Riſing; and to balance himſelf when he is placed. Uſe the memory of thy Predeceſſor fairly and tenderly; for if thou doſt not, it is a debt will ſure be paid when thou art gone. If thou have Colleagues, reſpect them, and rather call them when they look not for it, than exclude them when they have reaſon to look to be called. Be not too ſenſible, or too remembring of thy Place in Converſation, and private Anſwers to Suitors; But let it rather be ſaid, When he ſits in Place he is another Man.

XII. Of Boldneſs.

IT is a trivial Grammar-School Text, but yet worthy a wiſe Mans conſideration. Queſtion was asked of Demoſthenes, What was the chief part of an Orator? He anſwered, Action; What next? Action; What next again? Action; He ſaid it that knew it beſt, and had by nature himſelf no advantage in that he commended. A ſtrange thing, that that part of an Orator which is but • uperficial, and rather the vertue of a Player, ſhould be placed ſo high above thoſe other noble parts of Inven • ion, Elocution, and the reſt: Nay, almoſt alone; as if • t were All in All. But the reaſon is plain. There is • n Humane Nature generally more of the Fool than of the Wiſe; and therefore thoſe faculties, by which • he fooliſh part of mens minds is taken are moſt potent. Wonderful like is the caſe of Boldneſs in civil buſineſs: What firſt? Boldneſs; What ſecond and third? Boldneſs. And yet Boldneſs is a Child of Ignorance and Baſeneſs, • ar inferior to other parts. But nevertheleſs it doth faſcinate and bind hand and foot, thoſe that are either • hallow in judgment, or weak in courage, which are the greateſt part; yea, and prevaileth with wiſe men at weak times. Therefore we ſee it hath done Wonders in popular States, but with Senates and Princes leſs; and more, ever upon the firſt entrance of Bold Perſons into action, than ſoon after: for Boldneſs is an ill Keeper of Promiſe. Surely, as there are Mountebanks for the Natural Body, ſo are there Mountebanks for the Politick Body: Men that undertake great Cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two or three Experiments, but want the grounds of Science, and therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you ſhall ſee a Bold Fellow many times do Mahomet • s miracle: Mahomet made the People believe, that he would call an Hill to him; and from the top of 〈◊〉 offer up his Prayers for the obſervers of his Law. 〈◊〉 people aſſembled, Mahomet called the Hill to him agai • and again; and when the Hill ſtood ſtill, he was n • ver a whit abaſhed, but ſaid, If the Hill will not come 〈◊〉 Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the Hill. So theſe 〈◊〉 when they have promiſed great matters, and failed mo •• ſhamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of Boldneſs they will but ſlight it over, and make a turn, and no more ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, 〈◊〉 perſons are a ſport to behold; nay, and to the Vulga • alſo, Boldneſs hath ſomewhat of the Ridiculous. For 〈◊〉 abſurdity be the ſubject of laughter, doubt you no • but great Boldneſs is ſeldom without ſome abſurdity Eſpecially it is a ſport to ſee, when a Bold Fellow is ou • of countenance; for that puts his face into a mo •• ſhrunken and wooden poſture, as needs it muſt: for i • b • ſhfulneſs the Spirits do a little go and come, but with Bold men, upon like occaſion, they ſtand at a ſtay, lik • a Stale or Cheſs, where it is no Mate, but yet the Ga •• cannot ſtir. But this laſt were fitter for a Satyr tha • for a ſerious Obſervation. This is well to be weighe • ▪ That Boldneſs is ever blind; for it ſeeth not danger and inconveniencies; therefore it is ill in Counſe • good in Execution: ſo that the right uſe of Bold perſons i • , that they never command in Chief, but be Seconds, and under the direction of others. For in Counſel it is good to ſee Dangers, and in Execution not to ſe • them, except they be very great.

XIII. Of Goodneſs, and Goodneſs of Nature.

I Take Goodneſs in this ſence, the affecting of the we •• of Men, which is that the Grecians call Philanthropi •• and the Word Humanity (as it is uſed) is a little too ligh • to expreſs it. Goodneſs I call the Habit, and Goodneſs of Nature the Inclination. This of all Vertues and Dignities of the mind is the greateſt, being the Character of the Deity; and without it man is a buſie, miſchievous wretched thing, no better than a kind of Vermine. Goodneſs anſwers to the Theological Vertue, Charity, and admits no exceſs, but error. The deſire of power in exceſs cauſed the Angels to fall; the deſire of knowledge in exceſs cauſed Man to fall; but in Charity there is no exceſs, neither can Angel or Man come in danger by it. The inclination of Goodneſs is imprinted deeply in the nature of man; inſomuch, that if it iſſue not towards men, it will take unto other living Creatures; as it is ſeen in the Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheleſs are kind to Beaſts, and give Alms to Dogs and Birds: Inſomuch as Busbechius reporteth, a Chriſtian Boy in Conſtantinople had like to have been ſtoned for gagging, in a waggiſhneſs, a long-billed Fowl. Errors indeed, in this Vertue, in Goodneſs or Charity may be committed. The Italians have an ungracious Proverb, Tanto buon che val niente; So good that he is good for nothing. And one of the Doctors of Italy, Nicholas Macchiavel, had the confidence to put in writing, almoſt in plain terms, That the Chriſtian Faith had given up good men in prey to thoſe that are tyrannical and unjuſt: which he ſpake, becauſe indeed there was never Law, or Sect, or Opinion, did ſo much magnifie Goodneſs as the Chriſtian Religion doth: therefore, to avoid the ſcandal, and danger both, it is good to take knowledge of the errors of an Habit ſo excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in bondage to their faces or fancies; for that is but facility or ſoftneſs, which taketh an honeſt mind priſoner. Neither give the Aeſop's Cock a Gem, who would be better pleaſed and happier if he had had a Barly Corn. The Example of God teacheth the Leſſon truly: He ſendeth his Rain, and maketh his Sun to ſhine upon the Juſt and Unjuſt; but he doth not rain Wealth, nor ſhine Honour and Virtues upon Men equally. Common Benefits are to be communicated with all; but peculiar benefits with choice. And beware, how in making the Portraiture, thou breakeſt the Pattern; for Divinity maketh the love of our ſelves the Pattern; the love of our Neighbours but the Portraiture. Sell all thou haſt and give it to the poor, and follow me: but ſell not all thou haſt, except thou come and follow me; that is, except thou have a Vocation, wherein thou mayſt do as much good with little means as with great: for otherwiſe, in feeding the Streams thou drieſt the Fountain. Neither is there only a Habit of Goodneſs directed by right Reaſon: but there is in ſome Men, even in Nature, a diſpoſition towards it; as on the other ſide, there is a natural malignity. For there be that in their Nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter ſort of malignity turneth but to croſsneſs, or frowardneſs, or aptneſs to oppoſe, or difficileneſs, or the like; but the deeper ſort to envy and meer miſchief. Such men in other mens calamities, are as it were in ſeaſon, and are ever on the loading part; not ſo good as the Dogs that licked Lazarus's ſores, but like Flies, that are ſtill buzzing upon any thing that is raw; Miſanthrop, that make it their practice to bring men to the Bough, and yet have never a Tree for the purpoſe in their Gardens, as Timon had. Such diſpoſitions are the very errors of Humane Nature; and yet they are the fitteſt Timber to make great Politicks of: like to knee-Timber, that is good for Ships that are ordained to be toſſed, but not for building Houſes, that ſhall ſtand firm. The parts and ſigns of Goodneſs are many. If a Man be gracious and courteous to Strangers, it ſhews he is a Citizen of the world; and that his heart is no Iſland cut off from other Lands, but a Continent that joyns to them. If he be compaſſionate towards the afflictions of others, it ſhews that his heart is like the noble Tree, that is wounded it ſelf, when it gives the Balm. If he eaſily pardons and remits offences, it ſhews that his mind is planted above Injuries, ſo that he cannot be ſhot. If he be thankful for ſmall benefits, it ſhews that he weighs mens minds, and not their traſh. But above all, if he have Saint Paul's perfection, that he would wiſh to be an Anathema from Chriſt, for the Salvation of his Brethren, it ſhews much of a Divine Nature, and a kind of conformity with Chriſt himſelf.

XIV. Of Nobility.

WE will ſpeak of Nobility, Firſt as a Portion of an Eſtate, then as a Condition of Particular Perſons. A Monarchy, where there is no Nobility at all, is ever a pure and abſolute Tyranny, as that of the Turks, for Nobility attempers Soveraignty, and draws the eyes of the People ſomewhat aſide from the Line Royal. But for Democracies they need it not: and they are commonly more quiet, and leſs ſubject to Sedition, than where there are Stirps of Nobles. For mens eyes are upon the buſineſs, and not upon the perſons; or if upon the perſons, it is for buſineſs ſake, as the fitteſt, and not for flags and pedigree. We ſee the Switzers laſt well, notwithſtanding their diverſity of Religion, and of Cantons: for Utility is their Bond, and not Reſpects. The United Provinces of the Low-Countries in their Government excel: for where there is an equality, the Conſultations are more indifferent, and the payments and tributes more chearful. A great and potent Nobility addeth Majeſty to a Monarch, but diminiſheth Power; and putteth Life and Spirit into the People, but preſſeth their Fortune. It is well when Nobles are not too great for Soveraignty, nor for juſtice; and yet maintained in that height, as the Inſolency of Inferiours may be broken upon them, before it come on too faſt upon the Majeſty of Kings. A numerous Nobility cauſeth Poverty and inconvenience in a State: for it is a furcharge of expence; and beſides, it being of neceſſity that many of the Nobility fall in time to be weak in Fortune, it maketh a kind of Diſproportion between Honour and Means.

As for Nobility in particular Perſons, It is a reverend thing to ſee an ancient Caſtle or Building not in decay; or to ſee a fair Timber Tree ſound and perfect: how much more to behold an Ancient Noble Family, which hath ſtood againſt the Waves and Weathers of Time. For New Nobility is but the Act of Power; but Ancient Nobility is the Act of Time. Thoſe that are firſt raiſed to Nobility are commonly more virtuous, but leſs innocent than their Deſcendents; for there is rarely any Riſing, but by a commixture of good and evil Arts. But it is reaſon the memory of their Vertues remain to their Poſterity; and their faults die with themſelves. Nobility of Birth commonly abateth induſtry; and he that is not induſtrious, envieth him that is. Beſides, Noble Perſons cannot go much higher; and he that ſtandeth at a ſtay when others riſe, can hardly avoid motions of Envy. On the other ſide, Nobility extinguiſheth the Paſſive Envy from others towards them; becauſe they are in poſſeſſion of Honour. Certainly Kings that have able Men of their Nobility, ſhall find eaſe in employing them, and a better ſlide into their buſineſs: for people naturally bend to them, as born in ſome ſort to command.

XV. Of Seditions and Troubles.

SHepherds of People had need know the Kalenders of Tempests in State; which are commonly greateſt when things grow to equality; as natural Tempeſts are greateſt about the Aequin • ctia. And as there are certain hollow blaſts of Wind, and ſecret ſwellings of Seas before a Tempeſt, ſo are there in States. —Ille etiam coecos inſtare Tumultus Saepe monet, Fraudeſque & operta tumeſcere Bella. Libels and Licentious Diſcourſes againſt the State, when they are frequent and open; and in like ſort, falſe News often running up and down to the diſadvantage of the State, and haſtily embraced; are amongſt the Signs of Troubles. Virgil giving the pedigree of Fame, ſaith, She was Siſter to the Gyants. Illam Terra Parens ira irritata Deorum, Extremam (ut perhibent) Caeo Enceladoque ſororem Pregenuit.— As if Fames were the Relicks of Seditions paſt; but they are no leſs indeed, the Preludes of Seditions to come. Howſoever he noteth it right, That Seditious Tumults, and Seditious Fames, differ no more but as Brother and Siſter, Maſculine and Feminine; eſpecially if it come to that, that the beſt Actions of a State, and the moſt plauſible, and which ought to give greateſt contentment, are taken in ill ſence, and traduced: for that ſhews the envy great, as Ta • itus ſaith, Conflata magna Invidia, ſe •• benè, ſeu malè, geſta premunt. Neither doth it follow, that becauſe theſe Fames are a ſign of Troubles, that the ſuppreſſing of them with too much ſeverity, ſhould be a Remedy of Troubles: for the deſpiſing of them many times checks them beſt; and the going about to ſtop them, doth but make a Wonder longliv'd.

Alſo that kind of obedience which Tacitus ſpeaketh of is to be held ſuſpected; Erant in officio, ſed tamen qui mallent mandata Imperantium interpretari, quam exequi; Diſputing, Excuſing, Cavilling upon Mandates and Directions, is a kind of ſhaking off the yoak, and eſſay of diſobedience; eſpecially, if in thoſe Diſputings, they which are for the direction, ſpeak fearfully and tenderly; and thoſe that are againſt it audaciouſly.

Alſo, as Machiavel noteth well; when Princes, that ought to be common Parents, make themſelves as a Party, and lean to a ſide, it is a Boat that is overthrown by uneaven weight on the one ſide; as was well ſeen in the time of Henry the third of France: for firſt himſelf entred League for the extirpation of the Proteſtants, and preſently after the fame League was turned upon himſelf: for when the Authority of Princes is made but an Acceſſary to a Cauſe, and that there are other Bands that tie faſter than the Band of Soveraignty, Kings begin to be almoſt put out of poſſeſſion.

Alſo, when Diſcords, and Quarrels, and Factions are carried openly and audaciouſly, it is a ſign the Reverence of Government is loſt. For the Motions of the greateſt Perſons in a Government, ought to be as the motions of the Planets under Primum Mobile (according to the old Opinion:) which is, that every of them is carried ſwiftly by the higheſt Motion, and ſoftly in their own Motion. And therefore when great Ones in their own particular Motion move violently; and as Tacitus expreſſeth it well, Liberius quam ut Imperantium meminiſſent, it is a ſign the Orbs are out of Frame: for Reverence is that wherewith Princes are girt from God, who threatneth the diſſolving thereof; Solvam cingula Regum.

So when any of the four Pillars of Government are mainly ſhaken or weakned, (which are Religion, Juſtice, Counſel, and Treaſure) Men had need to pray for fair weather.

But let us paſs from this part of Predictions (concerning which, nevertheleſs, more light may be taken from that which followeth) and let us ſpeak firſt of the Materials of Seditions; then of the Motives of them; and thirdly, of the Remedies.

Concerning the Materials of Seditions; It is a thing well to be conſidered: For the ſureſt way to prevent Seditions (if the times do bear it) is to take away the matter of them. For if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the ſpark ſhall come that ſhall ſ • t it on fire. The Matter of Seditions is of two kinds; much Poverty and much Diſcontentment. It is certain, ſo many Overthrown Eſtates, ſo many votes for Troubles. Lucan noteth well the State of Rome before the Civil War.

Hinc Uſura vorax, rapidumque in tempore Foenus, Hinc concuſſa Fides, & multis utile Bellum.

This ſame multis utile Bellum is an aſſured and infallible ſign of a State diſpoſed to Seditions and Troubles. And if this Poverty and broken Eſtate in the better ſort, be joyned with a want and neceſſity in the mean People, the danger is eminent and great; ſor the Rebellions of the Belly are the worſt. As for Diſcontentments, they are in the Politick Body like to Humours in the Natural, which are apt to gather pre-natural Heat, and to enflame. And let no Prince meaſure the danger of them by this, whether they be juſt or unjuſt: for that were to imagine People to be too reaſonable, who do often ſpurn at their own good: nor yet by this, whether the griefs whereupon they riſe, be in fact great or ſmall: for they are the moſt dangerous Diſcontentments, where the fear is greater than the feeling. Dolendi modus, Timendi non item. Beſides, in great Oppreſſions, the ſame things that provoke the Patience, do withal make the courage; but in fears it is not ſo. Neither let any Prince or State be ſecure concerning Diſcontentments becauſe they have been often, or have been long, and yet no Peril hath enſued; for as it is true, that every Vapour or Fume doth not turn into a Storm: So it is nevertheleſs true, that Storms though they blow over divers times, yet may fall at laſt: and as the Spaniſh Proverb noteth well; The Cord breaketh at the laſt by the weakeſt pull.

The Cauſes and Motions of Seditions are, Innovation in Religion, Taxes, Alteration of Laws and Cuſtoms, breaking of Privileges, General Oppreſſion, Advancement of unworthy Perſons, Strangers, Dearths, Disbanded Souldiers, Factions grown deſperate. And whatſoever in offending People, joyneth and knitteth them in a Common Cauſe.

For the Remedies; there may be ſome general Preſervatives whereof we will ſpeak; as for the juſt Cure, it muſt anſwer to the particular Diſeaſe, and ſo be left to Counſel rather than Rule.

The firſt Remedy or Prevention is, to remove by all means poſſible that Material Cauſe of Sedition, whereof we ſpeak; which is Want and Poverty in the Eſtate. To which purpoſe ſerveth the Opening and well Ballancing of Trade, the Cheriſhing of Manufactures, the Baniſhing of Idleneſs, the Repreſſing of Waſte and Exceſs by Sumptuary Laws, the Improvement and Husbanding of the Soyl, the Regulating of Prices of Things vendible, the Moderating of Taxes and Tributes, and the like. Generally it is to be foreſeen, that the Population of a Kingdom (eſpecially if it be not mowen down by Wars) do not exceed the Stock of the Kingdom, which ſhould maintain them. Neither is the Population to be reckoned only by number; for a ſmaller number that ſpend more, and earn leſs, do wear out an Eſtate ſooner than a greater number that live lower, and gather more. Therefore the multiplying of Nobility, and other Degrees of Quality, in an over Proportion to the Common People, doth ſpeedily bring a State to Neceſſity: and ſo doth likewiſe an overgrown Clergy, for they bring nothing to the Stock. And in like manner, when more are bred Scholars than Preferments can take off.

It is likewiſe to be remembred, that foraſmuch as the increaſe of any Eſtate muſt be upon the Foreigners; (for whatſoever is ſomewhere gotten, is ſomewhere loſt.) There be but three things which one Nation ſelleth unto another; the Commodity as Nature yieldeth it; the Manufacture and the Vecture or Carriage: So that if theſe three Wheels go, Wealth will flow as in a Springtide. And it cometh many times to paſs, that Materiam ſuperabit Opus; that the Work and Carriage is more worth than the Materials, and inricheth a State more: as is notably ſeen in the Low Country-men, who have the beſt Mines above Ground in the World.

Above all things good Policy is to be uſed, that the Treaſure and Moneys in a State be not gathered into few Hands. For otherwiſe a State may have a great Stock, and yet ſtarve. And Money is like Muck, not good except it be ſpread. This is done chiefly by ſuppreſſing, or at the leaſt keeping a ſtraight hand upon the Devouring Trades of Uſury, Ingroſing, great Paſturages, and the like.

For removing Diſcontentments, or at leaſt the danger of them, there is in every State (as we know) two portions of Subjects, the Nobleſs and the Commonalty. When one of theſe is Diſcontent, the danger is not great: for common people are of ſlow motion, if they be not excited by the greater ſort; and the greater ſort are of ſmall ſtrength, except the multitude be apt and ready to move of themſelves. Then this is the danger, when the greater ſort do but wait for the troubling of the Waters amongſt the meaner, that then they may declare themſelves. The Poets feign, that the reſt of the Gods would have bound Jupiter; which he hearing of, by the Counſel of Pallas, ſent for Briareus with his hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An Emblem no doubt, to ſhew how ſafe it is for Monarchs to make ſure of the good will of common people.

To give moderate liberty for Griefs and Diſcontentments to evaporate (ſo it be without too great Inſolency or bravery) is a ſafe way. For he that turneth the Humours back, and maketh the Wound bleed inwards, endangereth malign Ulcers, and pernicious Impoſthumations.

The part of Epimetheus might well become Prometheus in the caſe of Diſcontentments; for there is not a better proviſion againſt them. Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, at laſt ſhut the Lid, and kept Hope in the bottom of the Veſſel. Certainly the politick and artificial nouriſhing and entertaining of Hopes, and carrying men from Hopes to Hopes, is one of the beſt Antidotes againſt the Poyſon of Diſcontentments. And it is a certain ſign of a wiſe Government and Proceeding, when it can hold mens hearts by Hopes when it cannot by ſatisfaction; and when it can handle things in ſuch manner, as no evil ſhall appear ſo peremptory but that it hath ſome out-let of Hope: which is the leſs hard to do, becauſe both particular Perſons and Factions art apt enough to flatter themſelves, or at leaſt to brave that which they believe not.

Alſo the fore-ſight and prevention, that there be no likely or fit Head, whereunto Diſcontented Perſons may reſort, and under whom they may joyn, is a known, but an excellent point of caution. I underſtand a fit Head to be one that hath Greatneſs and Reputation, that hath Confidence with the Diſcontented Party, and upon whom they turn their eyes; and that is thought Diſcontented in his own particular; which kind of Perſons are either to be won, and reconciled to the State, and that in a faſt and true manner; or to be fronted with ſome other of the ſame Party that may oppoſe them, and ſo divide the Reputation. Generally the dividing and breaking of all Factions and Combinations that are adverſe to the State, and ſetting them at diſtance, or at leaſt diſtruſt among themſelves, is not one of the worſt Remedies. For it is a deſperate caſe, if thoſe that hold with the proceeding of the State, be full of Diſcord and Faction; and thoſe that are againſt it, be entire and United.

I have noted, that ſome witty and ſharp Speeches, which have fallen from Princes, have given fire to Seditions. Caeſar did himſelf infinite hurt in that Speech, Sylla neſcivit literas, non potuit dictare: for it did utterly cut off that Hope which men had entertained, that he would at one time or other give over his Dictatorſhip. Galba undid himſelf by that Speech, Legi à ſe militem non emi, for it put the Soldiers out of Hope of the Donative. Probus likewiſe by that ſpeech, Si vixero, non opus erit amplius Romano Imperio militibus: A Speech of great deſpair for the Soldiers: And many the like. Surely Princes had need, in tender matters, and tickliſh times, to beware what they ſay; eſpecially in theſe ſhort Speeches, which fly abroad like Darts, and are thought to be ſhot out of their ſecret Intentions. For as for large Diſcourſes, they are flat things, and not ſo much noted.

Laſtly, Let Princes againſt all Events not be without ſome great Perſon, one, or rather more, of Military Valour near unto them, for the repreſſing of Seditions in their beginnings. For without that, there uſeth to be more trepidation in Court, upon the firſt breaking out of Troubles, than were fit. And the State runneth the danger of that, which Tacitus ſaith; Atque is habitus animorum fuit, ut peſſimum facinus auderent pauci, plures vellent, omnes paterentur. But let ſuch Military Perſons be aſſured, and well reputed of, rather than Factious and Popular, holding alſo good correſpondence with the other great Men in the State, or elſe the Remedy is worſe than the Diſeaſe.

XVI. Of Atheiſm.

I Had rather believe all the Fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, that this Univerſal Frame is without a Mind. And therefore God never wrought a Miracle to convince Atheiſm, becauſe his ordinary Works convince it. It is true, that a little Philoſophy inclineth Mans mind to Atheiſm, but depth in Philoſophy bringeth Mens minds about to Religion, for while the mind of man looketh upon ſecond Cauſes ſcattered, it may ſometimes reſt in them, and go no further: but when it beholdeth the Chain of them Confederate and Linked together, it muſt needs fly to Providence and Deity. Nay, even that School which is moſt accuſed of Atheiſm, doth moſt demonſtrate Religion: That is, the School of Leucippus and Democritus, and Epicurus. For it is a thouſand times more credible, that four mutable Elements, and one immutable fifth Eſſence, duly and eternally placed, need no God, than that an Army of infinite ſmall Portions, or Seeds unplaced, ſhould have produced this order and beauty without a Divine Marſhal. The Scripture ſaith, The Fool hath ſaid in his heart, there is no God: it is not ſaid, The fool hath thought in his heart: So as he rather ſaith it by rote to himſelf, as that he would have, than that he can throughly believe it, or be perſwaded of it. For none deny there is a God, but thoſe for whom it maketh that there were no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that Atheiſm is rather in the Lip, than in the Heart of Man, than by this; That Atheiſts will ever be talking of that their Opinion, as if they fainted in it within themſelves, and would be glad to be ſtrengthned by the conſent of others. Nay more, you ſhall have Atheiſts ſtrive to get Diſciples, as it fareth with other Sects. And, which is moſt of all, you ſhall have of them that will ſuffer for Atheiſm and not recant; whereas if they did truly think, that there were no ſuch thing as God, why ſhould they trouble themſelves? Epicurus is charged, that he did but diſſemble for his credits ſake, when he affirmed, there were Bleſſed Natures, but ſuch as enjoyed themſelves, without having reſpect to the Government of the World: wherein, they ſay, he did temporize; though in ſecret he thought there was no God. But certainly he is traduced; for his Words are Noble and Divine; Non Deos vulgi negare profanum, ſed vulgi Opiniones Diis applicare profanum. Plato could have ſaid no more. And although he had the confidence to deny the Adminiſtration, he had not the power to deny the Nature. The Indians of the Weſt have names for their particular gods, though they have no name for God; as if the Heathens ſhould have had the names of Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, &c. but not the word Deus: ſhews, that even thoſe barbarous People have the notion, hough they have not the latitude and extent of it. So that againſt the Atheiſt the very Savages take part with the very ſubtileſt Philoſophers: The Contemplative Atheiſt is rare: A Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and ſome others; and yet they ſeem to be more than they are: For that all that impugn a received Religion or Superſtition, are by the adverſe part branded with the name of Atheiſts. But the great Atheiſts indeed are Hypocrites, which are ever handling Holy things, but without feeling; ſo as they muſt needs be cauterized in the end. The Cauſes of Atheiſm are Diviſions in Religion, if they be many: for any one main Diviſion addeth Zeal to both ſides, but many Diviſions introduce Atheiſm. Another is, Scandal of Prieſts, when it is come to that which Saint Bernard ſaith, Non eſt jam dicere, ut populus, ſacerdos: quia nec ſic populus, ut ſacerdos. A third is, Cuſtom of Prophane Scoffing in Holy Matters, which doth by little and little deface the Reverence of Religion. And laſtly, Learned Times, eſpecially with peace and proſperity: for troubles and adverſities do more bow Mens minds to Religion. They that deny a God, deſtroy Mans Nobility: for certainly Man is of kin to the Beaſts by his Body; and if he be not of kin to God by his Spirit; he is a baſe and ignoble Creature. It deſtroys likewiſe Magnanimity, and the raiſing Humane Nature: for take an example of a Dog, and mark what a generoſity and courage he will put on, when he finds himſelf maintained by a Man, who to him is inſtead of a God. or Melior natura: Which courage is manifeſtly ſuch, as that Creature without the confidence of a better Nature than his own, could never attain. So Man, when he reſteth and aſſureth himſelf upon Divine protection and favour, gathereth a force and faith, which Humane Nature in it ſelf could not obtain. Therefore as Atheiſm is in all reſpects hateful, ſo in this, that it depriveth Humane Nature of the means to exalt it ſelf above Humane Frailty. As it is in particular Perſons, ſo it is in Nations. Never was there ſuch a State for Magnanimity, as Rome. Of this State hear what Cicero ſaith, Quam volumus, licet, Patres Conſcripti, nos amemus, tamen nec numero Hiſpanos, nec robore Gallos, nec calliditate Poenos, nec artibus Graecos; nec denique hoc ipſo hujus Gentis & Terrae domeſtico nativoque ſenſu Italos ipſos & Latinos; ſed Pietate ac Religione, atque hac una Sapientia, quod Deorum Immortalium Numine, omnia regi gubernarique perſpeximus, omnes Gentes Nationeſque ſuperavimus.

XVII. Of Superſtition.

IT were better to have no opinion of God at all, than ſuch an opinion as is unworthy of him: For the one is Unbelief, the other is Contumely; and certainly Superſtition is the reproach of the Deity. Plutarch ſaith well to that purpoſe: Surely (ſaith he) I had rather a great deal men ſhould ſay, there was no ſuch man at all as Plutarch, than that they ſhould ſay, that there was one Plutarch, that would eat his Children as ſoon as they were born; as the Poets ſpeak of Saturn. And as the Contumely is greater towards God, ſo the Danger is greater towards Men. Atheiſm leaves a man to Senſe, to Philoſophy, to Natural Piety, to Laws, to Reputation; all which may be guides to an outward Moral Vertue, though Religion were not; But Superſtition diſmounts all theſe, and erecteth an abſolute Monarchy in the minds of Men. Therefore Atheiſm did never perturb States; for it makes men weary of themſelves, as looking no further: And we ſee the times inclined to Atheiſm (as the time of Auguſtus Caeſar) were civil times. But Superſtition hath been the Confuſion of many States, and bringeth in a new Primum Mobile, that raviſheth all the Spheres of Government. The Maſter of Superſtition is the People; and in all Superſtition, Wiſe men follow Fools, and Arguments are fitted to Practice in a reverſed order. It was gravely ſaid by ſome of the Prelates in the Council of Trent, where the Doctrine of the School-men bare great ſway, That the School-men were like Aſtronomers, which did feign Eccentricks, and Epicycles, and ſuch engines of Orbs, to ſave the Phoenomena; though they knew there were no ſuch things. And in like manner, that the School-men had framed a number of ſubtile and intricate Axioms and Theorems, to ſave the practice of the Church. The Cauſes of Superſtitions are, pleaſing and ſenſual Rites and Ceremonies: Exceſs of Outward and Phariſaical Holineſs: Over-great Reverence of Traditions, which cannot but load the Church: the Stratagems of Prelates for their own Ambition and Lucre: the favouring too much of good Intentions, which openeth the Gate to Conceits and Novelties: the taking an Aim at Divine Matters by Humane, which cannot but breed mixture of Imaginations: And laſtly, Barbarous Times, eſpecially joyned with Calamities and Diſaſters. Superſtition without a veil is a deformed thing; for, as it addeth deformity to an Ape to be ſo like a Man: ſo the ſimilitude of Superſtition to Religion makes it the more deformed. And as wholſome Meat corrupteth to little Worms: ſo good Forms and Orders corrupt into a Number of petty Obſervances. There is a Superſtition in avoiding Superſtition, when men think to do beſt, if they go furtheſt from the Superſtition formerly received. Therefore Care would be had, that (as it fareth in ill Purgings) the good be not taken away with the bad, which commonly is done, when the People is the Reformer.

XVIII. Of Travel.

TRAVEL, in the younger Sort, is a part of Education; in the elder, a part of Experience. He that Travelleth into a Countrey before he hath ſome Entrance into the Language, goeth to School and not to Travel. That young men Travel under ſome Tutor, or grave Servant, I allow well, ſo that he be ſuch a one that hath the Language, and hath been in the Country before, whereby he may be able to tell them, what things are worthy to be ſeen in the Countrey where they go, what Acquaintances they are to ſeek, what Exerciſes or Diſcipline the Place yieldeth. For elſe young men ſhall go hooded, and look abroad little. It is a ſtrange thing, that in Sea-voyages, where there is nothing to be ſeen but Sky and Sea, men ſhould make Diaries; but in Land-Travel, wherein ſo much is to be obſerved, for the moſt part they omit it; as if Chance were fitter to be regiſtred than Obſervation. Let Diaries therefore be brought in uſe. The things to be ſeen and obſerved are the Courts of Princes, eſpecially when they give Audience to Embaſſadors: The Courts of Juſtice, while they ſit and hear Cauſes, and ſo of Conſiſtories Eccleſiaſtick: the Churches and Monaſteries, with the Monuments which are therein extant: the Walls and Fortifications of Cities and Towns; and ſo the Havens and Harbors: Antiquities and Ruins: Libraries, Colleges, Diſputations and Lectures, where any are: Shipping and Natives: Houſes and Gardens of State and Pleaſure near great Cities: Armories, Arſenals, Magazines, Exchanges, Burſes, Ware-houſes: Exerciſes of Horſmanſhip, Fencing, Training of Souldiers, and the like: Comedies, ſuch whereunto the better ſort of Perſons do reſort. Treaſures of Jewels and Robes: Cabinets and Rarities. And to conclude, whatſoever is memorable in the Places where they go. After all which the Tutors or Servants ought to make diligent enquiry. As for Triumphs, Maſques, Feaſts, Weddings, Funerals, Capital Executions, and ſuch Shews; Men need not to be put in mind of them; yet are they not to be neglected. If you will have a young man to put his Travel into a little room, and in ſhort time to gather much, this you muſt do. Firſt, as we ſaid, he muſt have ſome entrance into the Language before he goeth. Then he muſt have ſuch a Servant or Tutor as knoweth the Countrey, as was likewiſe ſaid. Let him carry with him alſo ſome Chard or Book, deſcribing the Countrey where he Travelleth, which will be a good key to his Enquiry. Let him keep alſo a Diary. Let him not ſtay long in one City or Town, more or leſs, as the Place deſerveth, but not long: Nay, when he ſtayeth in one City or Town, let him change his Lodging from one end and part of the Town to another, which is a great Adamant of Acquaintance. Let him ſequeſter himſelf from the Company of his Countrey-men, and diet in ſuch Places where there is good Company of the Nation where he Travelleth. Let him upon his Removes from one Place to another, procure recommendation to ſome Perſon of Quality, reſiding in the Place whither he removeth, that he may uſe his Favour in thoſe things he deſireth to ſee or know. Thus he may abridge his Travels with much profit. As for the Acquaintance which is to be ſought in Travel, that which is moſt of all profitable, is Acquaintance with the Secretaries and employed Men of Embaſſadors; for ſo in Travelling in one Country, he ſhall ſuck the experience of many. Let him alſo ſee and viſit eminent Perſons, in all kinds, which are of great Name abroad; that he may be able to tell how the Life agreeth with the Fame. For Quarrels, they are with Care and Diſcretion to be avoided: They are commonly for Miſtreſſes, Healths, Place, and Words. And let a Man beware how he keepeth Company with Cholerick and Quarrelſome Perſons, for they will engage him into their own Quarrels. When a Traveller returneth home, let him not leave the Countries where he hath Travelled, altogether behind him, but maintain a Correſpondency by Letters with thoſe of his Acquaintance which are of moſt worth. And let his Travel appear rather in his Diſcourſe, than in his Apparel or Geſture; and in his Diſcourſe let him be rather adviſed in his Anſwers, than forward to tell Stories: And let it appear, that he doth not change his Countrey Manners for thoſe of Foreign Parts; but only prick in ſome Flowers of that he hath learned abroad, into the Cuſtoms of his own Countrey.

XIX. Of Empire.

IT is a miſerable State of Mind, to have few things to deſire, and many things to fear, and yet that commonly is the Caſe of Kings, who being at the higheſt, want matter of deſire, which makes their minds more languiſhing, and have many Repreſentations of Perils and Shadows, which makes their minds the leſs clear. And this is one reaſon alſo of that effect which the Scripture ſpeaketh of; That the King's heart is inſcrutable. For, multitude of Jealouſies, and lack of ſome predominant deſire that ſhould marſhal and put in order all the reſt, maketh any Mans heart hard to find or ſound. Hence it comes likewiſe, that Princes many times make themſelves Deſire, and ſet their Hearts upon Toys: ſometimes upon a Building, ſometimes upon erecting of an Order, ſometimes upon the advancing of a Perſon, ſometimes upon obtaining excellency in ſome Art or Feat of the Hand; as Nero for playing on the Harp, Domitian for Certainty of the Hand with the Arrow, Commodus for playing at Fence, Caracalla for driving Chariots, and the like. This ſeemeth incredible unto thoſe that know not the principal; That the mind of Man is more cheared and refreſhed by profiting in ſmall things, than by ſtanding at a ſtay in great. We ſee alſo that the Kings that have been fortunate Conquerours in their firſt years, it being not poſſible for them to go forward infinitely, but that they muſt have ſome check or arreſt in their Fortunes, turn in their latter years to be Superſtitious and Melancholy: as did Alexander the Great, Diocleſian; and in our memory, Charles the Fifth, and others: For he that is uſed to go forward, and findeth a ſtop, falleth out of his own favour, and is not the thing he was.

To ſpeak now of the true Temper of Empire; It is a thing rare, and hard to keep; for both Temper and Diſtemper conſiſt of Contraries. But it is one thing to mingle Contraries, another to interchange them. The Anſwer of Apollonius to Veſpaſian is full of excellent Inſtruction; Veſpaſian asked him, What was Nero's over-throw? He anſwered, Nero could touch and tune the Harp well, but in Government ſometimes he uſed to wind the pins too high, ſometimes to let them down too low. And certain it is, that nothing deſtroyeth Authority ſo much, as the unequal and untimely interchange of Power Preſſed too far, and Relaxed too much.

This is true, that the Wiſdom of all theſe latter Times in Princes Affairs, is rather fine Deliveries, and Shiftings of Dangers and Miſchiefs, when they are near, than ſolid and grounded Courſes to keep them aloof. But this is but to try Maſteries with Fortune: and let men beware how they neglect and ſuffer matter of Trouble to be prepared: for no man can forbid the ſpark, nor tell whence it may come. The difficulties in Princes Buſineſs are many and great; but the greateſt difficulty is often in their own mind. For it is common with Princes (ſaith Tacitus) to will Contradictories. Sunt plerumque Regum voluntates vehementes, & inter ſe contrariae. For it is the Soleciſm of Power, to think to Command the end, and yet not endure the means.

Kings have to deal with their Neighbours, their Wives, their Children, their Prelates or Clergie, their Nobles, their Second Nobles or Gentlemen, their Merchants, their Commons, and their Men of War. And from all theſe ariſe Dangers, if Care and Circumſpection be not uſed.

Firſt, For their Neighbours: There can no general Rule be given (the occaſions are ſo variable) ſave one, which ever holdeth, which is, that Princes do keep due Centinel, that none of their Neighbours do over-grow ſo, (by increaſing of Territory, by imbracing of Trade, by Approaches, or the like) as they become more able to annov them, than they were. This is generally the work of ſtanding Counſels to foreſee, and to hinder it. During that Triumvirate of King's, King Henry the 8th of England, Francis the 1ſt King of France, and Charles the 5th Emperour, there was ſuch a Watch kept, that none of the Three could win a Palm of Ground, but the other Two would ſtraight-ways balance it, either by Confederation, or if need were, by a War, and would not in any wiſe take up Peace at Intereſt. And the like was done by that League, (which Guicciardine ſaith, was the Security of Italy) made between Ferdinando King of Naples, Lorenzius Medices, and Ludovicus Sforza, Potentate, the one of Florence, the other of Milain. Neither is the opinion of ſome of the School-men to be received▪ That a War cannot juſtly be made but upon a precedent Injury or Provocation. For there is no queſtion, but a juſt Fear of an imminent Danger, though there be no Blow given, is a lawful Cauſe of a War.

For their Wives: There are cruel examples of them Livia is infamed for the poyſoning of her Husband: Rolaxana, Solyman's Wife, was the deſtruction of that renowned Prince, Sultan Muſtapha, and otherwiſe troubled his Houſe and Succeſſion: Edward the Second of England, his Queen had the principal hand in the depoſing and murther of her Husband. This kind of danger is then to be feared, chiefly when the Wives have Plots for the raiſing of their own Children, or elſe that they be Advoutreſſes.

For their Children: The Tragedies likewiſe of dangers from them have been many. And generally the entring of Fathers into ſuſpicion of their Children, hath been ever unfortunate. The deſtruction of Muſtapha (that we named before) was ſo fatal to Solyman's Line, as the Succeſſion of the Turks from Solyman until this day, is ſuſpected to be untrue, and of ſtrange blood; for that Selymus the ſecond was thought to be ſuppoſititious. The deſtruction of Criſpus, a young Prince of rare towardneſs, by Conſtantinus the Great, his Father, was in like manner fatal to his Houſe; for both Conſtantinus and Conſtance his Son died violent Deaths; and Conſtantius his other Son did little better, who died indeed of Sickneſs, but after that Julianus had taken Arms againſt him. The deſtruction of Demetrius, Son to Philip the Second of Macedon, turned upon the Father, who died of Repentance. And many like Examples there are, but few or none where the Fathers had good by ſuch diſtruſt, except it were where the Sons were up in open Arms againſt them; as was Selymus the firſt againſt Bajazet, and the three Sons of Henry the Second, King of England.

For their Prelates: When they are proud and great, there is alſo danger from them; as it was in the times of Anſelmus and Thomas Becket, Arch-Biſhops of Canterbury, who with their Croſiers did almoſt try it with the Kings Sword; and yet they had to deal with ſtout and haughty Kings; William Rufus, Henry the Firſt, and Henry the Second. The danger is not from the State, but where it hath a dependance of Foreign Authority; or where the Church-men come in, and are elected, not by the collation of the King, or particular Patrons, but by the People.

For their Nobles: To keep them at a diſtance it is not amiſs, but to depreſs them may make a King more abſolute, but leſs ſafe, and leſs able to perform any thing that he deſires. I have noted it in my Hiſtory of King Henry the Seventh, of England, who depreſſed his Nobility; whereupon it came to paſs, that his times were full of Difficulties and Troubles; for the Nobility, though they continued loyal unto him, yet did they not co-operate with him in his buſineſs; ſo that in effect he was fain to do all things himſelf.

For their Second Nobles: There is not much danger from them, being a Body diſperſed. They may ſometimes diſcourſe high, but that doth little hurt. Beſides they are a counterpoize to the higher Nobility, that they grow not too potent: and laſtly, being the moſt immediate in Authority with the Common People, they do beſt temper popular Commotions.

For their Merchants: They are Vena porta; and if they flouriſh not, a Kingdom may have good Limbs, but will have empty Veins, and nouriſh little. Taxes and Impoſts upon them, do ſeldom good to the Kings Revenue; for that he wins in the Hundred, he looſeth in the Shire; the particular Rates being increaſed, but the total bulk of Trading rather decreaſed.

For their Commons: There is little danger from them, except it be where they have great and potent Heads, or where you meddle with the point of Religion, or their Cuſtoms, or means of Life.

For their Men of War: It is a dangerous State, where they live and remain in a Body, and are uſed to Donatives, whereof we ſee examples in the Janizaries and Pretorian Bands of Rome: But Trainings of Men, and Arming them in ſeveral places, and under ſeveral Commanders, and without Donatives, are things of Defence, and no danger.

Princes are like to Heavenly Bodies, which cauſe good or evil times; and which have much Veneration, but no Reſt. All Precepts concerning Kings, are in effect comprehended in thoſe two Remembrances, Memento quod es Homo, and Memento quod es Deus, or Vice Dei; the one bridleth their Power, and the other their Will.

XX. Of Counſel.

THE greateſt truſt between Man and Man is the truſt of Giving Counſel: For in other confidences Men commit the parts of Life, their Lands, their Goods, their Children, their Credit, ſome particular Affair: but to ſuch as they make their Counſellors, they commit the whole, by how much the more they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The wiſeſt Princes need not think it any diminution to their Greatneſs, or derogation to their Sufficiency, to rely upon Counſel. God himſelf is not without, but hath made it one of the great Names of his bleſſed Son: The Counſellor. Solomon hath pronounced, that in Counſel is Stability. Things will have their firſt or ſecond agitation; if they be not toſſed upon the arguments of Counſel, they will be toſſed upon the waves of Fortune, and be full of inconſtancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling of a drunken man. Solomon's Son found the force of Counſel, as his Father ſaw the neceſſity of it. For the beloved Kingdom of God was firſt rent and broken by ill Counſel; upon which Counſel there are ſet for inſtruction the two marks, whereby Bad Counſel is for ever beſt diſcerned, that it was young Counſel for the Perſons, and violent Counſel for the Matter.

The ancient times do ſet forth in figure, both the incorporation, and inſeparable conjunction of Counſel with Kings, and the wiſe and politick uſe of Counſel by Kings; the one in that they ſay, Jupiter did marry. Metis, which ſignifieth Counſel, whereby they intend that Soveraignty is married to Counſel; the other in that which followeth, which was thus: They ſay, after Jupiter was married to Metis, ſhe conceived by him, and was with Child: but Jupiter ſuffered her not to ſtay till ſhe brought forth, but eat her up; whereby he became himſelf with Child, and was delivered of Pallas Armed out of his Head; which monſtrous Fable containeth a ſecret of Empire, how Kings are to make uſe of their Council of State. That firſt they ought to refer matters unto them, which is the firſt begetting or impregnation; but when they are elaborate, moulded, and ſhaped in the Womb of their Council, and grow ripe, and ready to be brought forth, that then they ſuffer not their Council to go through with the reſolution and direction, as if it depended on them; but take the matter back into their own hands, and make it appear to the World, that the Decrees and final Directions (which, becauſe they come forth with Prudence and Power, are reſembled to Pallas Armed) proceeded from themſelves: And not only from their Authority, but (the more to add reputation to themſelves) from their Head and Device.

Let us now ſpeak of the Inconveniencies of Counſel, and of the Remedies. The Inconveniences that have been noted in calling and uſing Counſel, as three: Firſt, the revealing of Affairs, whereby they become leſs ſecret. Secondly, the weakning of the Authority of Princes, as if they were leſs of themſelves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully Counſelled, and more for the good of them that Counſel, than of him that is Counſelled. For which Inconveniencies, the Doctrine of Italy, and practice of France in ſome Kings times, hath introduced Cabinet Councils; a Remedy worſe than the Diſeaſe.

As to Secrecy: Princes are not bound to communicate all matters with all Counſellors, but extract and ſelect. Neither is it neceſſary, that he that conſulteth what he ſhould do, ſhould declare what he will do. But let Princes beware, that the unſecreting of their Affairs comes not from themſelves. And as for Cabinet Counſels, it may be their Motto; Plenus rimarum ſum: One futile Perſon, that maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurt, than many that know it their duty to conceal. It is true, there be ſome Affairs which require extream Secrecy, which will hardly go beyond one or two Perſons beſide the King: Neither are thoſe Counſels unproſperous; for beſides the Secrecy, they commonly go on conſtantly in one Spirit of Direction without diſtraction. But then it muſt be a prudent King, ſuch as is able to grind with a Hand-mill; and thoſe Inward Counſellors had need alſo be wiſe Men, and eſpecially true and truſty to the King's ends; as it was with King Henry the Seventh, of England, who in his greateſt buſineſs imparted himſelf to none, except it were to Morton and Fox.

For weakning of Authority: The Fable ſheweth the Remedy. Nay, the Majeſty of King's is rather exalted than diminiſhed, when they are in the Chair of Counſel. Neither was there ever Prince bereaved of his dependencies by his Counſel, except where there hath been either an over-greatneſs in one Counſellor, or an over-ſtrict combination in divers, which are things ſoon found and holpen.

For the laſt Inconvenience, that Men will Counſel with an Eye to themſelves: Certainly, Non inveniet fidem ſuper terram, is meant of the nature of times, and not of all particular Perſons. There be, that are in nature, faithful and ſincere, and plain, and direct, not crafty and involved: Let Princes above all draw to themſelves ſuch natures. Beſides Counſellors are not commonly ſo united, but that one Counſellor keepeth Centinel over another; ſo that if any do Counſel, out of faction, or private ends, it commonly comes to the King's Ear. But the beſt Remedy is, if Princes know their Counſellors as well as their Counſellors know them: Principis eſt virtus maxima noſſe ſuos.

And on the other ſide, Counſellors ſhould not be too ſpeculative into their Soveraigns Perſon. The true compoſition of a Counſellor, is rather to be skill'd in their Maſters buſineſs, than in his Nature; for then he is like to adviſe him, and not to feed his humour. It is of ſingular uſe to Princes, if they take the Opinions of their Counſel, both ſeparately and together. For private opinion is more free, but opinion before others is more reverend. In private, Men are more bold in their own humours; and in conſort, Men are more obnoxious to others humours: therefore it is good to take both. And of the inferiour ſort, rather in private, to preſerve freedom; of the greater, rather in conſort, to preſerve reſpect. It is vain for Princes to take Counſel, concerning Matters, if they take no Counſel likewiſe concerning Perſons: for all Matters are as dead Images; and the life of the execution of Affairs reſteth in the good choice of Perſons. Neither is it enough to conſult concerning Perſons, ſecundum genera, as in an Idea or Mathematical Deſcription, what the kind and character of the Perſon ſhould be; for the greateſt errors are committed, and the moſt judgment is ſhewn in the choice of Individuals. It was truly ſaid, Optimi Conſiliarii mortui; Books will ſpeak plain when Counſellors blanch. Therefore it is good to be converſant in them, eſpecially the Books of ſuch as themſelves have been Actors upon the Stage.

The Councils at this day in moſt places are but familiar meetings, where matters are rather talked on than debated. And they run too ſwift to the Order or Act of Counſel. It were better, that in Cauſes of weight, the Matter were propounded one day, and not ſpoken • ill the next day, In nocte Conſilium. So was it done in the Commiſſion of Union between England and Scotland, which was a grave and orderly Aſſembly. I commend ſet days for Petitions: for it gives both the Suitors more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the meetings for matters of Eſtate, that they may Hoc agere. In choice of Committees for ripening Buſineſs for the Council, it is better to chuſe indifferent Perſons, than to make an Indifferency, by putting in thoſe that are ſtrong on both ſides. I commend alſo ſtanding Commiſſions; as for Trade, for Treaſure, for War, for Suits, for ſome Provinces: For where there be divers particular Councils, and but one Council of State, (as it is in Spain) they are in effect no more than ſtanding Commiſſions; ſave that they have greater Authority. Let ſuch as are to inform Councils out of their particular Profeſſions (as Lawyers, Sea-men, Mint-men, and the like) be firſt heard before Committees, and then, as occaſion ſerves, before the Council. And let them not come in multitudes, or in a Tribunitious manner; for that is to clamour Councils, not to inform them. A long Table, and a ſquare Table, or Seats about the Walls, ſeem things of Form, but are things of Subſtance; for at a long Table, a few at the upper end in effect ſway all the buſineſs; but in the other Form, there is more uſe of the Counſellors Opinions that ſit lower. A King, when he preſides in Council, let him beware how he opens his own inclination too much in that which he propoundeth; for elſe Counſellors will but take the wind of him, and inſtead of giving Free Counſel, ſing him a Song of Placebo.

XXI. Of Delays.

FORTUNE is like the Market, where many times if you can ſtay a little, the Price will fall. And again, it is ſometimes like Sibylla's Offer, which at firſt offereth the Commodity at full, then conſumeth part and part, and ſtill holdeth up the Price. For Occaſion (as it is in the Common Verſe) turneth a bald Noddle, after ſhe hath preſented her Locks in Front, and no hold taken; or at leaſt turneth the handle of the Bottle firſt to be received, and after the Belly, which is hard to claſp. There is ſurely no greater Wiſdom, than well to time the Beginnings and Onſets of Things. Dangers are no more light, if they once ſeem light; and more Dangers have deceived Men, than forced them. Nay, it were better to meet ſome Dangers half way▪ though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a watch upon their Approaches; for if a Man watch too long, it is odds he will fall aſleep. On the othe • ſide, to be deceived with two long Shadows (as ſome have been, when the Moon was low, and ſhone on their Enemies back, and ſo to ſhoot off before the time▪ or to teach Dangers to come on, by over-early Buckling towards them, is another extream. The Ripeneſs or Unripeneſs of the Occaſion, (as we ſaid) muſt ever be well weighed; and generally it is good to commit the Beginnings of all great Actions to Argus with his hundred eyes, and the Ends to Briareus with his hundred hands; firſt to Watch, and then to ſpeed. For the Helmet of Pluto, which maketh the Politick Man go inviſible, is Secrecy in the Counſel, and Celerity in the Execution. For when things are once come to the Execution, there is no Secrecy comparable to Celerity; like the motion of a Bullet in the air, which flyeth ſo ſwift, as it out-runs the Eye.

XXII. Of Cunning.

VVE take Cunning for a Siniſter or Crooked Wi • dom. And certainly there is great difference between a Cunning Man and a Wiſe Man, not only in point of Honeſty, but in point of Ability. There be that can pack the Cards, and yet cannot play well: ſo there are ſome that are good in Canvaſſes and Factions, that are otherwiſe Weak Men. Again, it is one thing to underſtand Perſons, and another thing to underſtand Matters; for many are perfect in Mens Humours, that are not greatly capable of the real part of Buſineſs, which is the Conſtitution of one that hath ſtudied Men more than Books. Such Men are fitter for Practice than for Counſel: and they are good but in their own Alley, turn them to new men, and they have loſt their Aim: ſo as the old Rule to know a Fool from a Wiſe man; Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, & videbis, doth ſcarce hold for them. And becauſe theſe Cunning Men are like Haberdaſhers of ſmall Wares, it is not amiſs to ſet forth their ſhop.

It is a point of Cunning to wait upon him, with whom you ſpeak, with your eye, as the Jeſuits give it in precept: For there may be many wiſe men that have ſecret Hearts and tranſparent Countenances. Yet this would be done with a demure Abaſing of your eye ſometimes, as the Jeſuits alſo do uſe.

Another is, that when you have any thing to obtain of preſent diſpatch, you entertain and amuſe the party with whom you deal, with ſome other Diſcourſe, that he be not too much awake to make Objections. Iknew a Counſellor and Secretary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England with Bills to ſign, but he would always firſt put her into ſome Diſcourſe of Eſtate, that ſhe might the leſs mind the Bills.

The like ſurprize may be made by moving things, when the party is in haſt, and cannot ſtay to conſider adviſedly of that is moved.

If a Man would croſs a Buſineſs, that he doubts ſome other would hanſomely and effectually move, let him pretend to wiſh it well, and move it himſelf in ſuch • o • t as may foyl it.

The breaking off in the midſt of that one was about to ſay, as if he took himſelf up, breeds a greater Appetite in him with whom you confer to know more.

And becauſe it works better, when any thing ſeemeth to be gotten from you by Queſtion, than if you offer it of your ſelf; you may lay a Bait for a Queſtion, by ſhewing another Viſage and Countenance than you are wont; to the end, to give occaſion for the party to ask, what the matter is of the Change, as Nehemia • did; And I had not before that time been ſad before the King.

In things that are tender and unpleaſing, it is good to break the Ice by ſome whoſe words are of leſs weight, and to reſerve the more weighty voice to come in as by chance, ſo that he may be asked the Queſtion upon the other Speech; as Narciſſus did in relating to Claudius the marriage of Meſſalina and Silius.

In things that a Man would not be ſeen in himſelf, it is a point of Cunning to borrow the name of the World, as to ſay; The World ſays, or, There is a Speech abroad.

I knew one, that when he wrote a Letter, he would put that which was moſt material in the Poſt-ſcript, as if it had been a By-matter.

I knew another, that when he came to have ſpeech, he would paſs over that he intended moſt, and go forth, and come back again and ſpeak of it, as a thing that he had almoſt forgot.

Some procure themſelves to be ſurprized at ſuch times, as it is like the party that they work upon will ſuddenly come upon them, and to be found with a Letter in their hand, or doing ſomewhat which they are not accuſtomed; to the end they may be oppoſed of thoſe things, which of themſelves they are deſirous to utter.

It is a point of Cunning, to let fall thoſe Words in a mans own Name, which he would have another man learn and uſe, and thereupon take advantage. I knew two that were Competitors for the Secretaries Place, in Queen Elizab • th's time, and yet kept good Quarter between themſelves, and would confer one with another upon the Buſineſs; and one of them ſaid, That to be a Secretary in the Declination of a Monarchy, was a tickliſh thing, and that he did not affect it: the other ſtrait caught up thoſe Words, and diſcourſed with divers of his Friends, That he had no reaſon to deſire to be a Secretary in the Declining of a Monarchy. The firſt man took hold of it, and found means it was told the Queen, Who hearing of a Declination of a Monarchy, took it ſo ill, as ſhe would never after hear of the other's Suit.

There is a Cunning, which we in England call, The turning of the Cat in Pan; which is, when that which a man ſays to another, he lays it as if another had ſaid it to him; and to ſay truth, it is not eaſie, when ſuch a matter paſs'd between two, to make it appear from which of them it firſt moved and began.

It is a way that ſome men have to glance and dart at others, by juſtifying themſelves by Negatives; as to ſay, This I did not: As Tigellinus did towards Burrhus; Se non diverſas ſpes, ſed incolumitatem Imperatoris ſimpliciter ſpectare.

Some have in readineſs ſo many Tales and Stories, as there is nothing they would inſinuate, but they can wrap it into a Tale, which ſerveth both to keep them ſelves more in Guard, and carry it with more Pleaſure.

It is a good point of Cunning, for a man to ſhape the Anſwer he would have in his own Words and Propoſitions; for it makes the other party ſtick the leſs.

It is ſtrange, how long ſome men will lie in wait to ſpeak ſomewhat they deſire to ſay, and how far about they will fetch, and how many other matters they will beat over to come near it; it is a thing of great Patience, but yet of much Uſe.

A ſudden, bold, and unexpected Queſtion, doth many times ſurprize a man and lay him open: Like to him, that having changed his Name, and walked in Paul's, another ſuddenly came behind him, and called him by his true Name, whereat ſtreight-ways he looked back.

But theſe ſmall Wares, and petty points of Cunning are infinite; and it were a good deed to make a Liſt of them: for that nothing doth more hurt in a State, that that Cunning Men paſs for Wiſe.

But certainly ſome there are, that know the Reſorts and Falls of Buſineſs, that cannot ſink into the Main o • it: Like a Houſe that hath convenient Stairs and Entries, but never a fair Room. Therefore you ſhall ſee them find out pretty Looſes in the Concluſion, but are no ways able to examine or debate Matters: and yet commonly they take advantage of their Inability, and would be thought Wits of direction. Some built rather upon the abuſing of others, and (as we now ſay) Putting tricks upon them; than upon the ſoundneſs of their own proceedings. But Solomon ſaith, Prudens advertit a • greſſus ſuos, Stultus divertit ad dolos.

XXIII. Of Wiſdom for a Mans ſelf.

AN Ant is a wiſe creature for it ſelf, but it is a ſhrewd thing in an Orchard or Garden. And certainly men that are great Lovers of Themſelves, waſte the Publick. Divide with reaſon between Self-love and Society, and be ſo true to thy Self, as thou be not falſe to others, eſpecially to thy King and Country. It is a poor Center of a mans Actions, Himſelf. It is right Earth; for that only ſtands faſt upon its own Center; whereas all things that have affinity with the Heavens, move upon the Center of another which they benefit. The referring of all to a Mans Self, is more tolerable in a Soveraign Prince; becauſe Themſelves, are not only Themſelves; but their Good and Evil is at the peril of the publick Fortune. But it is a deſperate Evil in a Servant to a Prince, or a Citizen in a Republick. For whatſoever Affairs paſs ſuch a mans hands, he crooketh them to his own ends, which muſt needs be often Eccentrick to the ends of his Maſter or State: Therefore let Princes or States chuſe ſuch Servants as have not this mark; except they mean their Service ſhould be made but the acceſſary. That which maketh the effect more pernicious, is, that all proportion is loſt; it were diſ-proportion enough for the Servants good, to be preferred before the Maſters; but yet it is a greater extream, when a little good of the Servant ſhall carry things againſt the great good of the Maſters. And yet that is the caſe of bad Officers, Treaſurers, Ambaſſadours, Generals, and other falſe and corrupt Servants, which ſet a Byaſs upon their Bowl, of their own petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their Maſters great and important Affairs. And for the moſt part, the Good which Servants receive, is after the model of their own fortune; but the Hurt they ſell for that Good, is after the model of their Maſters Fortune. And certainly it is the nature of extream Self-Lovers, as they will ſet an Houſe on fire, if it were but to roaſt their eggs: And yet theſe men many times hold credit with their Maſters, becauſe their ſtudy is but to pleaſe them, and profit Themſelves; and for either reſpect they will abandon the good of their Affairs.

Wiſdom for a Man's ſelf is in many branches thereof a depraved thing. It is the Wiſdom of Rats, that will be ſure to leave the Houſe ſometime before it falls. It is the Wiſdom of the Fox, that thruſts out the Badger, who digged and made room for him. It is the Wiſdom of Crocodiles, that ſhed tears when they would devour. But that which is ſpecially to be noted, is, that thoſe which (as Cicero ſays of Pompey) are, Sui amantes ſine rivali, are many times unfortunate. And whereas they have all their time ſacrific'd to Themſelves, they become in the end themſelves Sacrifices to the Inconſtancy of Fortune, whoſe wings they thought by their Self-Wiſdom to have pinnioned.

XXIV. Of Innovation.

AS the births of living Creatures at firſt are ill ſhapen, ſo are all Innovations, which are the births of Time. Yet notwithſtanding, as thoſe that firſt bring Honour into their Family, are commonly more worthy than moſt that ſucceed: So the firſt Precedent (if it be good) is ſeldom attained by imitation. For Ill to Mans nature, as it ſtands perverted, hath a natural motion, ſtrongeſt in continuance: But Good as a forced motion, ſtrongeſt at firſt. Surely every Medicine is an Innovation; and he that will not apply new Remedies, muſt expect new Evils: for Time is the greateſt Innovator. And if Time of courſe alter things to the worſe, and Wiſdom and Counſel ſhall not alter them to the better, what ſhall be the end? It is true, that what is ſettled by cuſtom, though it be not good, yet at leaſt it is fit. And thoſe things which have long gone together are as it were confederate within themſelves, whereas new things piece not ſo well: But though they help by their utility, yet, they trouble by their Inconformity. Beſides, they are like ſtrangers, more admired, and leſs favoured. All this is true, if Time ſtood ſtill; which contrariwiſe moveth ſo round, that a froward retention of cuſtom is as turbulent a thing, as an Innovation: and they that reverence too much old times, are but a ſcorn to the new. It were good therefore, that men in their Innovations would follow the example of Time it ſelf; which indeed Innovateth greatly, but quietly, and by degrees, ſcarce to be perceived: for otherwiſe whatſoever is new, is unlooked for; and ever it mends ſome, and pairs other: And he that is holpen, takes it for a Fortune, and thanks the Time; and he that is hurt, for a Wrong, and imputeth it to the Author. It is good alſo, not to try experiments in States, except the neceſſity be urgent, or the utility be evident; and well to beware, that it be the Reformation that draweth on the Change, and not the deſire of Change that pretendeth the Reformation. And laſtly, that the Novelty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a ſuſpect: And as the Scripture ſaith, That we make a ſtand upon the ancient way, and then look about us, and diſcover what is the ſtreight and right way, and ſo to walk in it.

XXV. Of Diſpatch.

AFfected Diſpatch is one of the moſt dangerous things to buſineſs that can be. It is like that which the Phyſicians call Pre-digeſtion, or Haſty Digeſtion, which is ſure to fill the Body full of Crudities, and ſecret ſeeds of Diſeaſes. Therefore meaſure not diſpatch by the times of ſitting, but by the advancement of the buſineſs. And as in Races, it is not the large Stride, or high Lift that makes the Speed; ſo in buſineſs, the keeping cloſe to the matter, and not taking of it too much at once, procureth Diſpatch. It is the care of ſome only to come off ſpeedily for the time, or to contrive ſome falſe periods of buſineſs, becauſe they may ſeem Men of Diſpatch. But it is one thing to abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off; and buſineſs ſo handled at ſeveral ſittings or meetings, goeth commonly backward or forward in an unſteady manner. I knew a Wiſe Man, that had it for a by-word, when he ſaw men haſten to a Concluſion; Stay a little, that we may make an end the ſooner.

On the other ſide, True Diſpatch is a rich thing. For Time is the meaſure of Buſineſs, as Money is of Wares; and buſineſs is bought at a dear hand, where there is ſmall Diſpatch. The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be of ſmall Diſpatch, Mivenga la Muerte de Spagna, Let my death come from Spain, for then it will be ſure to be long in coming.

Give good hearing to thoſe that give the firſt Information in Buſineſs; and rather direct them in the beginning, than interrupt them in the continuance of their Speeches: for he that is put out of his own order, will go forward and backward, and more tedious while he waits upon his memory, than he could have been, if he had gone on in his own courſe. But ſometimes it is ſeen, that the Moderator is more troubleſome than the Actor.

Iterations are commonly loſs of time; but there is no ſuch gain of time, as to iterate often the State of the Queſtion; for it chaſeth away many a frivolous Speech as it is coming forth. Long and curious Speeches are as fit for Diſpatch, as a Robe or Mantle with a long train is for a Race.

Prefaces, and Paſſages, and Excuſations, and other Speeches of reference to the Perſon, are great waſters of time; and though they ſeem to proceed of modeſty, they are bravery. Yet beware of being too material, when there is any impediment or obſtruction in mens Wills; for pre-occupation of mind ever requireth preface of Speech, like a fomentation to make the unguent enter.

Above all things, Order, and Distribution, and Singling out of Parts, is the life of Diſpatch: ſo as the Diſtribution be not too ſubtle; for he that both not divide, will never enter well into buſineſs: and he that divideth too much will never come out of it clearly. To chuſe time, is to ſave time, and an unſeaſonable motion is but beating the Air. There be three parts of Buſineſs; the Preparation, the Debate or Examination, and the Perfection; whereof if you look for Diſpatch, let the middle only be the work of many, and the firſt and laſt the work of few. The proceeding upon ſomewhat conceived in writing, doth for the moſt part facilitate Diſpatch: for though it ſhould be wholly rejected, yet that Negative is more pregnant of direction, than an Indefinite; as Aſhes are more generative than Duſt.

XXVI. Of ſeeming Wiſe.

IT hath been an opinion, that the French are wiſer than they ſeem, and the Spaniards ſeem wiſer than they are. But howſoever it be between Nations, certainly it is ſo between Man and Man. For as the Apoſtle ſaith of Godlineſs, Having a ſhew of Godlineſs, but denying the power thereof; ſo certainly there are in points of wiſdom and ſufficiency, that to do nothing or little very ſolemnly; Magno conatu nugas. It is a ridiculous thing, and fit for a Satyr, to perſons of judgment, to ſee what ſhifts theſe Formaliſts have, and what proſpectives to make Superficies to ſeem Body, that hath depth and bulk. Some are ſo cloſe reſerved, as they will not ſhew their Wares, but by a dark light; and ſeem always to keep back ſomewhat: And when they know within themſelves, they ſpeak of that they do not well know, would nevertheleſs ſeem to others, to know of that which they may not well ſpeak. Some help themſelves with countenance and geſture, and are wiſe by Signs; as Cicero ſaith of Piſo, that when he anſwered him, he fetched one of his Brows up to his Forehead, and bent the other down to his Chin: Reſpondes, altero ad Frontem ſublato, altero ad Mentum depreſſo ſupercilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere. Some think to bear it, by ſpeaking a great word, and being pertemptory; and go on, and take by admittance that which they cannot make good. Some, whatſoever is beyond their reach, will ſeem to deſpiſe or make light of it, as impertinent or curious, and ſo will have their ignorance ſeem Judgment. Some are never without a difference, and commonly by amuſing men with a ſubtilty, blanch the matter; of whom A. Gellius ſaith, Hominem delirum qui verborum minutiis rerum frangit pondera. Of which kind alſo Plato in his Protagoras bringeth in Prodicus in ſcorn, and maketh him make a Speech, that conſiſteth of diſtinctions from the beginning to the end. Generally ſuch men in all deliberations find eaſe to be of the Negative ſide, and affect a credit to object and foretel difficulties: For when Propoſitions are denied, there is an end of them; but if they be allowed, it requireth a new work; which falſe point of wiſdom is the bane of buſineſs. To conclude, there is no decaying Merchant, or inward Beggar, hath ſo many tricks to uphold the credit of their Wealth, as theſe empty Perſons have to maintain the credit of their ſufficiency. Seeming Wiſe Men may make ſhift to get opinion, but let no man chuſe them for employment; for certainly you were better take for buſineſs a man ſomewhat abſurd, than over-formal.

XXVII. Of Friendſhip.

IT had been hard for him that ſpake it, to have put more truth and untruth together in few words, than in that Speech, Whoſoever is delighted in ſolitude, is either a wild Beaſt, or a God. For it is moſt true, that a natural and ſecret hatred, and averſation towards Society in any Man, hath ſomewhat of the ſavage Beaſt; but it is moſt untrue, that it ſhould have any character at all of the Divine Nature, except it proceed not out of a pleaſure in Solitude, but out of a love and deſire to ſequeſter a mans ſelf for a higher converſation; ſuch as is found to have been falſly and feignedly in ſome of the Heathen, as Epimenides the Candian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really in divers of the ancient Hermits and Holy Fathers of the Church. But little do men perceive what Solitude is, and how far it extendeth: for a Crown is not Company, and Faces are but a Gallery of Pictures, and Talk but a Thinking Cymbal, where there is no Love. The Latine Adage meeteth with it a little, Magna Civitas, magna ſolitudo; becauſe in a great Town Friends are ſcattered, ſo that there is not that fellowſhip, for the moſt part, which is in leſs Neighbourhoods. But we may go further, and affirm moſt truly, that is a meer and miſerable ſolitude to want Friends, without which the World is but a Wilderneſs: and even in this Senſe alſo of Solitude, whoſoever in the Frame of his Nature and Affections is unfit for Friendſhip, he taketh it of the Beaſt, and not from Humanity.

A Principal Fruit of Friendſhip is, the Eaſe and Diſcharge of the Fulneſs and Swellings of the Heart, which Paſſions of all kinds do cauſe and induce. We know Diſeaſes of Stoppings and Suffocations are the moſt dangerous in the Body, and it is not much otherwiſe in Mind: You may take Sarza to open the Liver, Steel to open the Spleen, Flower of Sulphur for the Lungs, Caſtoreum for the Brain; but no Receipt openeth the Heart, but a true Friend, to whom you may impart Griefs, Joys, Fears, Hopes, Suſpicions, Counſels, and whatſoever lieth upon the Heart to oppreſs it, in a kind of Civil Shrift or Confeſſion.

It is a ſtrange thing to obſerve, how high a Rate great Kings and Monarchs do ſet upon this Fruit of Friendſhip whereof we ſpeak; ſo great, as they purchaſe it many times at the hazard of their own Safety and Greatneſs. For Princes, in regard of the diſtance of their Fortune from that of their Subjects and Servant, cannot gather this Fruit except (to make themſelves capable thereof) they raiſe ſome Perſons to be, as 〈◊〉 were, Companions, and almoſt Equals to themſelves, which many times ſorteth to Inconvenience. The modern Languages give unto ſuch Perſons the name of Favourites or Privadoes, as if it were matter of Grace o • Converſation. But the Poman name attaineth the true Uſe and Cauſe thereof, naming them 〈◊〉 Curarum; for it is that which tyeth 〈…〉 ▪ And we ſee plainly that this hath been done, not by weak and paſſionate Princes only, but by the Wiſeſt▪ and moſt Politick that ever reigned: who have oftentimes joyned to themſelves ſome of their Servants, whom both themſelves have called Friends, and allowed others likewiſe to call them in the ſame manner, uſing the word which is received between private men.

L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raiſed Pompey (after ſurnamed the Great) to that Height, that Pompey vaunted himſelf for Sylla's Over-match: for when he had carried the Conſulſhip for a friend of his againſt the purſuit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little reſen • thereat, and began to ſpeak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and in effect bad him be quiet; For th •• more men adored the Sun-riſing than the Sun-ſetting. With Julius, Decius Brutus had obtained that Intereſt, as he ſet him down in his Teſtament, for Heir in Remainder after his Nephew. And this was the man that had power with him, to draw him forth to his Death. For when Caeſar would have diſcharged the Senate, in regard of ſome ill preſages, and eſpecially a Dream of Calpurnia; This man lifted him gently by the Arm out of his Chair, telling him, he hoped he would not diſmiſs the Senate, till his Wife had dreamed a better Dream. And it ſeemeth his favour was ſo great, as Antonius in a Letter which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippiques, called him Venefica, Witch; as if he had enchanted Caeſar. Auguſtus raiſed Agrippa (though of mean Birth) to that Heighth, as when he conſulted with Moecenas about the Marriage of his Daughter Julia, Moecenas took the Liberty to tell him, That he must either marry his Daughter to Agrippa, or take away his Life; there was no third way, he had made him ſo great. With Tiberius Caeſar, Sejanus had aſcended to that Heighth, as they two were termed and reckoned as a pair of Friends. Tiberius in a Letter to him, ſaith, Hac pro Amicitia noſtra non occultavi; and the whole Senate dedicated an Altar to Friendſhip, as to a Goddeſs, in reſpect of the great Dearneſs of Friendſhip between them two. The like or more was between Septimius Severus and Plantianus; for he forced his eldeſt Son to marry the Daughter of Plantianus, and would maintain Plantianus in doing affronts to his Son, and did write alſo in a Letter to the Senate theſe words; I love the man ſo well, as I wiſh he may over love me. Now if theſe Princes had been as a Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a Man might have thought, that this had proceeded of an abundant Goodneſs of Nature; but being men ſo Wiſe, of ſuch ſtrength and ſeverity of Mind, and ſo extream Lovers of themſelves, as all theſe were; it proveth moſt plainly, that they found their own Felicity (though as great as ever happened to mortal man) but as an half Piece, except they might have a Friend to make it Entire; and yet, which is more, they were Princes that had Wives, Sons, Nephews, and yet all theſe could not ſupply the Comfort of Friendſhip.

It is not to be forgotten, what Commines obſerveth of his Maſter, Duke Charles the Hardy; namely, That he would communicate his Secrets with none; and leaſt of all thoſe Secrets which troubled him moſt. Whereupon he goeth on, and ſaith, that towards his latter time; That cloſeneſs did impair, and a little periſh his underſtanding. Surely, Commines might have made the ſame Judgment alſo, if it had pleaſed him, of his ſecond Maſter, Lewis the Eleventh, whoſe Cloſeneſs was indeed his Tormentor. The Parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true, Cor ne edito, Eat not the Heart. Certainly if a man would give it a hard Phraſe, thoſe that want Friends to open themſelves unto, are Cannibals of their own Hearts. But one thing is moſt admirable, (wherewith I will conclude this firſt Fruit of Friendſhip,) which is, That this Communicating of a Man's Self to a Friend, works two contrary effects; for it redoubleth Joys, and cutteth Griefs in Halfs; for there is no man that imparteth his Joys to his Friend, but he Joyeth the more; and no man that imparteth his Griefs to his Friend, but he grieveth the leſs. So that it is in truth an Operation upon a Man's mind of like virtue, as the Alchymiſts uſe to attribute to their Stone for Man's Body, that it worketh all contrary effects, but ſtill to the Good and Benefit of Nature; but yet without bringing in the Aid of Alchymiſts, there is a manifeſt Image of this in the ordinary courſe of Nature: For in Bodies Union ſtrengthneth and cheriſheth any natural Action; and on the other ſide, weakneth and dulleth any violent Imperſſion; and even ſo it is of Minds.

The ſecond Fruit of Friendſhip is Healthful and Soveraign for the Underſtanding, as the firſt is for the Affections: for Friendſhip maketh indeed a fair Day in the Affections from Storm and Tempeſts; but it maketh Daylight in the Affections from Tempeſts; but it maketh Daylight in the Underſtanding out of Darkneſs and Confuſion of Thoughts. Neither is this to be underſtood only of Faithful Counſel which a man receiveth from his Friend: but before you come to that, certain it is, that whoſoever hath his Mind fraught with many Thoughts, his Wits and Underſtanding do clarifie and break up in the Communicating and Diſcourſing with another; he toſſeth his Thoughts more eaſily, he marſhalleth them more orderly, he ſeeth how they look when they are turned into words. Finally, he waxeth wiſer than Himſelf; and that more by an hours Diſcourſe, than by a days Meditation. It was well ſaid by Themiſtocles to the King of Perſia, That Speech was like Cloth of Arras opened and put abroad; whereby the Imagery doth appear in Figure, whereas in Thoughts they lie but as in Packs. Neither is this ſecond Fruit of Friendſhip, in opening the Underſtanding, reſtrained only to ſuch Friends as are able to give a Man Counſel; (they indeed are beſt) but even without that a Man learneth of himſelf, and bringeth his own Thoughts to Light, and whetteth his Wits as againſt a Stone, which its ſelf cuts not. In a word, a Man were better relate himſelf to a Statue or Picture, than to ſuffer his Thoughts to paſs in ſmother.

And now, to make this ſecond Fruit of Friendſhip compleat, that other Point which lieth open, and falleth within Vulgar Obſervation, which is Faithful Counſel from a Friend. Heraclitus ſaith well in one of his Aenigma's; Dry Light is ever the best. And certain it is, that the Light that a Man receiveth by Counſel from another, is drier and purer than that which cometh from his own Underſtanding and Judgment, which is ever infuſed and drenched in his Affections and Cuſtoms, ſo as there is as much difference between the Counſel that a Friend giveth, and that a man giveth himſelf, as there is between the Counſel of a Friend, and of a Flatterer; for there is no ſuch Flatterer as in a Man's Self; and there is no ſuch remedy againſt Flattery of a man's ſelf, as the liberty of a Friend. Counſel is of two ſorts; the one concerning Manners, the other concerning Buſineſs, For the firſt; the beſt preſervative to keep the Mind in Health, is the faithful Admonition of a Friend. The calling of a Man's ſelf to a ſtrict account is a Medicine ſometime too piercing and Corroſive. Reading good Books of Morality, is a little Flat and Dead. Obſerving our Faults in others, is ſometimes unproper for our caſe. But the beſt Receipt (beſt, I ſay) to work, and beſt to take, is the Admonition of a Friend. It is a ſtrange thing to behold, what groſs Errors, and extream abſurdities many (eſpecially of the greater ſort) do commit, for want of a Friend to tell them of them, to the great damage both of their Fame and Fortune: for, as St. James ſaith, they were as Men that look ſometimes into a Glaſs, and preſently forget their own ſhape and favour. As for Buſineſs, a man may think, if he will, that two Eyes ſee no more than one; or that a Gameſter ſeeth always more than a Looker on; or that a Man in Anger is as wiſe as he that hath ſaid over the four and twenty Letters; or that a Musket may be ſhot off as well upon the Arm, as upon a Reſt; and ſuch other fond and high Imaginations, to think himſelf All in All. But when all is done, the help of good Counſel is that which ſetteth Buſineſs ſtreight; and if any man think that he will take Counſel, but it ſhall be by pieces, asking Counſel in one buſineſs of one man, and in another buſineſs of another man; it is well, (that is to ſay, better perhaps than if he asked none at all) but he runneth two dangers; one, that he ſhall not faithfully be Counſelled; for it is a rare thing, except it be from a perfect and entire Friend, to have Counſel given, but ſuch as ſhall be bowed and crooked to ſome ends, which he hath that giveth it. The other, that he ſhall have Counſel given, hurtful and unſafe, (though with good meaning) and mixt; partly of miſchief, and partly of remedy: even as if you would call a Phyſician, that is thought good for the Cure of the Diſeaſe you complain of, but is unacquainted with your Body; and therefore may put you in a way for preſent Cure, but overthroweth your Health in ſome other kind, and ſo cure the Diſeaſe, and kill the Patient. But a Friend that is wholly acquainted with a Man's Eſtate, will beware by furthering any preſent Buſineſs, how he daſheth upon other Inconvenience; and therefore reſts not upon ſcattered Counſels, for they will rather diſtract and miſ-lead, than ſettle and direct.

After theſe two noble Fruits of Friendſhip, (Peace in the Affections, and Support of the Judgment) followeth the laſt Fruit which is like the Pomegranate, full of many kernels; I mean Aid, and Bearing a part in all Actions and Occaſions. Here the beſt way to repreſent to the life the manifold uſe of Friendſhip, is to caſt and ſee, how many things there are, which a man cannot do himſelf; and then it will appear, that it was a ſparing Speech of the Ancients, to ſay, That a Friend is another himſelf; for that a Friend is far more than himſelf. Men have their time, and die many times in deſire of ſome things, which they principally take to heart; The beſtowing of a Child, the finiſhing of a work, or the like. If a Man have a true Friend, he may reſt almoſt ſecure, that the care of thoſe things will continue after him: ſo that a Man hath as it were two Lives in his deſires. A Man hath a Body, and that Body is confined to a place; but where Friendſhip is, all Offices of Life are as it were granted to him and his Deputy; for he may exerciſe them by his Friend. How many things are there, which a Man cannot, with any face or comlineſs, ſay or do himſelf? A man can ſcarce alledge his own merits with modeſty, much leſs extol them: A man cannot ſometimes brook to ſupplicate or beg; and a number of the like. But all theſe things are graceful in a Friend's mouth, which are bluſhing in a man's own. So again, a man's Perſon hath many proper Relations, which he cannot put off. A man cannot ſpeak to his Son, but as a Father; to his Wife but as a Husband; to his Enemy, but upon terms. Whereas a Friend may ſpeak as the caſe requires and not as it ſorteth with the Perſon: But to enumerate theſe things were endleſs: I have given the Rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part: If he have not a Friend, he may quit the Stage.

XXVIII. Of Expence.

RICHES are for ſpending, and ſpending for Honour and good Actions: Therefore Extraordinary Expence muſt be limited by the worth of the occaſion. For Voluntary Undoing may be as well for a man's Country, as for the Kingdom of Heaven, but Ordinary Expence ought to be limited by a Man's Eſtate, and governed with ſuch regard, as it be within his compaſs, and not ſubject to deceit and abuſe of Servants, and ordered to the beſt ſhew, that the Bills may be leſs than the Eſtimation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his Ordinary Expences ought to be but to the half of his Receipts: And if he think to wax Rich, but to the third part. It is no baſeneſs for the greateſt to deſcend and look into their own Eſtate. Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, but doubting to bring themſelves into melancholy, in reſpect they ſhall find it broken; but Wounds cannot be cured without ſearching. He that cannot look into his own Eſtate at all, had need both chuſe well thoſe whom he employeth, and change them oftner; for new are more timorous, and leſs ſubtle. He that can look into his Eſtate but ſeldom, it behoveth him to turn all to certainty. A man had need, if he be plentiful in ſome kind of Expence, to be as ſaving again in ſome other: as if he be plentiful in Diet, to be ſaving in Apparel: If he be plentiful in the Hall, to be ſaving in the Stable, and the like. For he that is plentiful in Expences of all kinds, will hardly be preſerved from decay. In clearing of a man's Eſtate, he may as well hurt himſelf, in being too ſudden, as in letting it run on too long. For haſty Selling is commonly as diſadvantageous as Intereſt. Beſides, he that clears at once will relapſe; for finding himſelf out of ſtreights, he will revert to his cuſtoms: But he that cleareth by degrees, induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind as upon his Eſtate. Certainly, who hath a State to repair, may not deſpiſe ſmall things: and commonly it is leſs diſhonourable to abridge petty Charges, than to ſtoop to petty Gettings. A man ought warily to begin Charges, which once begun will continue; but in matters that return not, he may be more magnificent.

XXIX. Of the true Greatneſs of Kingdoms and Eſtates.

THE Speech of Themiſtocles the Athenian, which was haughty and arrogant, in taking ſo much to himſelf, had been a grave and wiſe obſervation and cenſure, applyed at large to others, Deſired at a Feaſt to touch a Lute, he ſaid, He could not fiddle, but yet he could make a ſmall Town a great City. Theſe words, (holpen a little with a Metaphor) may expreſs two differing abilities in thoſe that deal in buſineſs of Eſtate. For if a true Survey be taken of Counſellors and Stateſmen, there may be found (though rarely) thoſe which can make a ſmall State great, and yet cannot fiddle: As on the other ſide, there will be found a great many that can fiddle very cunningly, but yet are ſo far from being able to make a ſmall State great, as their Gift lieth the other way, to bring a great and flouriſhing Eſtate to ruine and decay. And certainly thoſe degenerate Arts and Shifts, whereby many Counſellors and Governours gain both favour with their Maſters, and eſtimation with the Vulgar, deſerve no better name than Fidling, being things rather pleaſing for the time, and graceful to themſelves only, than tending to the weal and advancement to the State which they ſerve. There are alſo (no doubt) Counſellors and Governours which may be held ſufficient (Negotiis pares) able to manage Affairs, and to keep them from Precipices, and manifeſt inconveniences, which nevertheleſs are far from the ability to raiſe and amplifie an Eſtate in power, means, and fortune. But be the Workmen what they may be, let us ſpeak of the Work; That is, the true Greatneſs of Kingdoms and Eſtates, and the Means thereof. An Argument fit for Great and Mighty Princes to have in their hand, to the end, that neither by over-meaſuring their Forces, they leeſe themſelves in vain Enterpriſes; nor on the other ſide, by undervaluing them, they deſcend to fearful and puſillanimous Counſels.

The Greatneſs of an Eſtate in Bulk and Territory, doth fall under meaſure; and the Greatneſs of Finances and Revenue, doth fall under computation. The Population may appear by Muſters, and the Number and Greatneſs of Cities and Towns by Cards and Maps. But yet there is not any thing among Civil Affairs, more ſubject to error, than the right valuation, and true judgment, concerning the Power and Forces of an Eſtate.

The Kingdom of Heaven is compared not to any great Kernel or Nut, but to a Grain of Muſtard-ſeed, which is one of the leaſt Grains, but hath in it a property and Spirit haſtily to get up and ſpread. So are their States great in Territory, and yet not apt to Enlarge or Command; and ſome that have but a ſmall dimenſion of Stem, and yet apt to be the Foundations of great Monarchies.

Walled Towns, Stored Arſenals and Armouries, Goodly Races of Horſe, Chariots of War, Elephants, Ordnance, Artillery, and the like: All this is but a Sheep in a Lions skin, except the breed and diſpoſition of the People be ſtout and warlike. Nay, Number (it ſelf) in Armies importeth not much, where the People is of weak courage: For, (as Virgil ſaith) It never troubles a Wolf, how many the ſheep be. The Army of the Perſians, in the Plains of Arbela, was ſuch a vaſt Sea of People, as it did ſomewhat aſtoniſh the Commanders in Alexander's Army; who came to him therefore, and wiſhed him to ſet upon them by night; but he anſwered, He would not pilfer the Victory: And the defeat was eaſie.

When Tigranes the Armenian, being encamped upon a Hill with 400000 Men, diſcovered the Army of the Romans, being not above 14000 marching towards him, he made himſelf merry with it, and ſaid, Yonder Men are too many for an Ambaſſage, and too few for a Fight: But before the Sun ſet, he found them enough to give him the Chaſe with infinite ſlaughter. Many are the examples of great odds between Number and Courage; ſo that a man may truly make a judgment, That the principal point of Greatneſs in any State, is, to have a Race of Military men. Neither is Money the Sinews of War, (as it is trivially ſaid) where the Sinews of Mens Arms in Baſe and Effeminative People are failing. For Solon ſaid well to Croeſſus, (when in oſtentation he ſhewed him his Gold) Sir, If any other come, that hath better Iron than you, he will be Maſter of all this Gold. Therefore let any Prince or State think ſoberly of his Forces, except his Militia of Natives be of good and valiant Soldiers. And let Princes on the other ſide, that have Subjects of Martial diſpoſition, know their own ſtrength, unleſs they be otherwiſe wanting unto themſelves. As for Mercenary Forces, (which is the Help in this Caſe) all examples ſhew, that whatſoever Eſtate or Prince doth reſt upon them, He may ſpread his Feathers for a time, but he will mew them ſoon after.

The Bleſſing of Judas and Iſſachar will never meet, That the ſame People or Nation ſhould be both the Lion • whelp, and Aſs between Burthens: Neither will it be, that a People over-laid with Taxes, ſhould ever become Valiant and Martial. It is true, that Taxes levied by Conſent of the State, do abate mens Courage leſs, as it hath been ſeen notably in the Exciſes of the Low Countries; and in ſome degree, in the Subſidies of England: for you muſt note, that we ſpeak now of the Heart, and not of the Purſe. So that although the ſame Tribute and Tax, laid by Conſent, or by Impoſing, be all one to the Purſe, yet it works diverſly upon the Courage: ſo that you may conclude, That no People, over-charged with Tribute, is fit for Empire.

Let States that aim at Greatneſs take heed how their Nobility and Gentlemen do multiply too faſt: For that maketh the Common Subject grow to be a Peaſant, and a baſe Swain, driven out of Heart, and in effect but a Gentlemans Laborour: even as you may ſee in Coppice Woods. If you leave your Stadles too thick, you ſhall never have clean Underwood, but Shrubs and Buſhes. So in Countries, if the Gentlemen be too many, the Commons will be baſe: and you will bring it to that, that not the hundredth Poll will be fit for an Helmet; eſpecially as to the Infantry, which is the Nerve of an Army; and ſo there will be great Population and little Strength. This which I ſpeak of, hath been no where better ſeen, than by comparing of England and France: whereof England, though far leſs in Territory and Population hath been nevertheleſs an Over-match; in regard the Middle People of England make good Soldiers, which the Peaſants of France do not. And herein the device of King Henry the Seventh (whereof I have ſpoken largely in the Hiſtory of his Life) was Profound and Admirable in making Farms and Houſes of Husbandry, of a Standard: that is, maintained with ſuch a Proportion of Land unto them, as may breed a ſubject to live in Convenient Plenty, and no Servile Condition; and to keep the Plough in the hands of the Owners and not meer Hirelings. And thus indeed you ſhall attain to Virgil's Character which he gives to Ancient Italy

—Terra potens armiſque atque ubere Gleba.

Neither is that State (which for any thing I know, is almoſt peculiar to England, and hardly to be found any where elſe, except it be perhaps in Poland) to be paſſed over; I mean the State of Free Servants and Attendants upon Noblemen and Gentlemen, which are no ways inferiour to the Yeomanry for Arms: and therefore, out of all Queſtion, the Spendor and Magnificence, and great Retinues, and Hoſpitality of Noblemen and Gentlemen received into cuſtom, doth much conduce unto Martial Greatneſs: Whereas contrariwiſe, the cloſe and reſerving Living of Noblemen and Gentlemen, cauſeth a Penury of Military Forces.

By all means it is to be procured, that the Trunk of Nebuchadnezzar's Tree of Monarchy, be great enough to bear the Branches, and the Boughs; that is, That the Natural Subjects of the Crown or State, bear a ſufficient Proportion to the Stranger Subjects that they govern. Therefore all States that are liberal of Naturalization towards Strangers are fit for Empire. For to think that an Handful of People can with the greateſt Courage and Policy in the World, embrace too large extent of Dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will fail ſuddenly. The Spartans were a nice People in point of Naturalization; whereby, while they kept their compaſs they ſtood firm; but when they did ſpread, and their Boughs were become too great for their Stem, they became a Wind-fall upon the ſudden. Never any State was in this Point ſo open to receive Strangers into their Body, as were the Romans, therefore it ſorted with them accordingly: for they grew to the greateſt Monarchy. Their manner was to grant Naturalization, (which they called Jus Civitatis) and to grant it in the higheſt Degree; that is, not only Jus Commercii, Jus Connubii, Jus Haereditatis, but alſo Jus ſuffragii, and Jus Honorum. And this, not to ſingular Perſons alone, but likewiſe to whole Families; yea, to Cities, and ſometimes to Nations. Add to this their Cuſtom of Plantation of Colonies, whereby the Roman Plant was removed into the Soyl of other Nations; and putting both Conſtitutions together, you will ſay, that it was not the Romans that ſpread upon the World, but it was the World that ſpread upon the Romans; and that was the ſure Way of Greatneſs. I have marvelled ſometimes at Spain, how they claſp and contain ſo large Dominions with ſo few natural Spaniards: but ſure the whole Compaſs of Spain is a very great Body of a Tree, far above Rome and Sparta at the firſt: and beſides, though they have not had that uſage to Naturalize liberally, yet they have that which is next to it; that is, To employ, almoſt indifferently, all Nations in their Militia of ordinary Soldiers: yea, and ſometimes in their Higheſt Commands. Nay, it ſeemeth at this inſtant, they are ſenſible of this want of Natives, as by the Pragmatical Sanction, now publiſhed, appeareth.

It is certain, that Sedentary and Within-door Arts, and delicate Manufactures, (that require rather the Finger, than the Arm) have in their Nature a Contrariety to a Military diſpoſition. And generally all Warlike People are a little idle, and love Danger better than Travel: neither muſt they be too much broken of it, if they ſhall be preſerved in vigour. Therefore it was great Advantage in the Ancient States of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the uſe of Slaves, which commonly did rid thoſe Manufactures: but that is aboliſhed in greateſt part by the Chriſtian Law. That which cometh neareſt to it, is to leave thoſe Arts chiefly to Strangers (which for that purpoſe are the more eaſily to be received) and to contain the principal Bulk of the vulgar Natives within thoſe three kinds; Tillers of the Ground, Free Servants, and Handicrafts Men of ſtrong and manly Arts; as Smiths, Maſons, Carpenters, &c. not rekoning profeſſed Soldiers.

But above all, for Empire and Greatneſs it importeth moſt, that a Nation do profeſs Arms as their principal Honour: Study and Occupation: for the things which we formerly have ſpoken of, are but Habilitations towards Arms; and what is Habilitation, without Intention and Act? Romulus after his death (as they report or feign) ſent a preſent to the Romans, that above all they ſhould intend Arms, and then they ſhould prove the greateſt Empire of the world. The fabrick of the State of Sparta was wholly (though not wiſely) framed and compoſed to that Scope and End. The Perſians and Macedonians had it for a flaſh. The Galls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others had it for a time. The Turks have it at this day, though in great Declination. Of Chriſtian Europe, they that have it, are in effect only the Spaniards. But it is ſo plain, That every Man profiteth in that he moſt intendeth, that it needeth not to be ſtood upon. It is enough to point at it, that no Nation which doth not directly profeſs Arms, may look to have Greatneſs fall into their mouths. And on the other ſide, it is a moſt certain Oracle of Time, that thoſe States that continue long in that profeſſion (as the Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders; and thoſe that have profeſſed Arms but for an Age, have notwithſtanding commonly attained that Greatneſs in that Age, which maintained them long after, when their Profeſſion and exerciſe of Arms are grown to decay.

Incident to this Point is, for a State to have thoſe Laws or Cuſtoms which may reach forth unto them juſt Occaſions (as may be pretended) of War: for there is that juſtice imprinted in the Nature of Men, that they enter not upon Wars (whereof ſo many Calamities do enſue) but upon ſome, or at leaſt ſpecious Grounds and Quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for cauſe of War, the Propagation of his Law or Sect, a Quarrel that he may always command. The Romans, though they eſteemed the extending the Limits of their Empire to be great Honour to their Generals, when it was done; yet they never reſted upon that alone to begin a War. Firſt therefore, let Nations that pretend to Greatneſs, have this; that they be ſenſible of wrongs, either upon Borders, Merchants, or Politick Miniſters, and that they ſit not too long upon a Provocation. Secondly, let them be preſt, and ready to give Aids and Succours to their Confederates; as it ever was with the Romans: Inſomuch as if the Confederate had Leagues defenſive with divers others States, and upon Invaſion offered, did deplore their Aids ſeverally; yet the Romans would ever be the foremoſt, and leave it to none other to have the Honour. As for the Wars which were anciently made on the behalf of a kind of Party, or tacit Conformity of Eſtate, I do not well ſay, how they may be well juſtified: As when the Romans made a War for the Liberty of Graecia; or when the La • edaemonians and Athenians made Wars to ſet up or pull down Democracies and Oligarchies; or when Wars were made by Foreigners, under the pretence of Juſtice or Protection, to deliver the Subjects of others from Tyranny and Oppreſſion, and the like. Let it ſuffice, That no Eſtate expect to be Great, that is not awake, upon any juſt Occaſion of Arming.

No Body can be Healthful without Exerciſe, Neither Natural Body, nor Politick; and certainly to a Kingdom or Eſtate, a juſt and Honourable War is the true Exerciſe. A Civil War indeed is like the Heat of a Fever; but a Foreign War is like the Heat of Exerciſe, and ſerveth to keep the Body in health: for in a ſlothful Peace both Courages will effeminate, and Manners corrupt. But howſoever it be for Happineſs without all Queſtion; for Greatneſs, it maketh to be ſtill, for the moſt part in Arms; and the ſtrength of a Veterane Army (though it be a chargeable Buſineſs) always on Foot, is that which commonly giveth the Law, or at leaſt the Reputation amongſt all Neighbour-States; as may well be ſeen in Spain, which hath had in one part or other a Veterane Army, almoſt continually, now by the ſpace of ſixſcore years.

To be Maſter of the Sea, in an Abridgment of a Monarchy. Cicero writing to Atticus, of Pompey his Preparation againſt Caeſar, ſaith, Conſilium Pompeii planè Themiſtocleum eſt; Putat enim qui Mari potitur, eum Rerum potiri. And without doubt Pompey had tired out Caeſar, if upon vain Confidence he had not left that Way. We ſee the great effects of Battels by Sea. The Battel of Actium decided the Empire of the World. The Battel of Lepanto arreſted the Greatneſs of the Turk. There be many examples, where Sea Fights have been Final to the War: but this is when Princes or States have ſetup their Reſt upon the Battels. But thus much is certain, that he that commands the Sea, is at great liberty, and may take as much, and as little of the War, as he will; whereas thoſe that be ſtrongeſt by Land, are many times nevertheleſs in great ſtreights. Surely at this day, with us of Europe, the Vantage of ſtrength at Sea (which is one of the principal Dowries of this Kingdom of Great Britain) is great: both becauſe moſt of the Kingdoms of Europe are not meerly In-land, but girt with the Sea, moſt part of their Compaſs; and becauſe the Wealth of both Indies ſeem in great part but an Acceſſary to the Command of the Seas.

The Wars of Latter Ages ſeem to be made in the Dark, in reſpect of the Glory and Honour which reflected upon Men from the Wars in Ancient Time. There be now for Martial Encouragement, ſome Degrees and Orders of Chivalry, which nevertheleſs are conferred promiſcuouſly upon Souldiers, and no Souldiers; and ſome Remembrance perhaps upon the Scutcheon; and ſome Hoſpitals for maimed Soldiers, and ſuch like things. But in Ancient Times, the Trophies erected upon the place of the Victory; the Funeral Laudatives and Monuments for thoſe that died in the Wars; the Crowns and Garlands perſonal; the Style of Emperor, which the great King of the World after borrowed; the Triumphs of the Generals upon their Return; the great Donatives and Largeſſes upon the Disbanding of the Armies, were things able to enflame all mens Courages. But above all, that of the Triumph amongſt the Romans, was not Pageant or Gaudary, but one of the Wiſeſt and Nobleſt Inſtitutions that ever was: for it contained three things: Honour to the General; Riches to the Treaſury out of the Spoil; and Donatives to the Army. But that Honour perhaps were not fit for Monarchies, except it be in the Perſon of the Monarch himſelf, or his Sons; as it came to paſs in the times of the Roman Emperors, who did impropriate the Actual Triumphs to themſelves, and their Sons, for ſuch Wars as they did atchieve in Perſons; and left only for Wars atchieved by Subjects, ſome Triumphal Garments and Enſigns to the General.

To conclude, No Man can, by Care taking (as the Scripture ſaith) add a cubit to his Stature, in this little Model of a Mans Body; but in the great Frame of Kingdoms and Common-wealths, it is in the power of Princes or Eſtates to add Amplitude and Greatneſs to their Kingdoms. For by introducing ſuch Ordinances, Conſtitutions and Cuſtoms, as we have now touched, they may ſow Greatneſs to their Poſterity and Succeſſion. But theſe things are commonly not obſerved, but left to take their chance.

XXX. Of Regiment of Health.

THERE is a Wiſdom in this beyond the Rules of Phyſick: A Mans own obſervation what he finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is the beſt Phyſick to preſerve Health. But it is a ſafer concluſion to ſay, This agreeth not well with me, therefore I will not continue it, than this, I find no offence of this, therefore I may uſe it. For ſtrength of Nature in Youth paſſeth over many Exceſſes which are owing by a Man till his Age. Diſcern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the ſame things ſtill; for Age will not be defied. Beware of ſudden change in any great point of Diet; and if neceſſity inforce it, fit the reſt to it: For it is a ſecret both in Nature and State, that it is ſafer to change many things than one. Examine thy Cuſtoms of Diet, Sleep, Exerciſe, Apparel, and the like: And try in any thing thou ſhalt judge hurtful, to diſcontinue it by little and little; but ſo, as if thou doſt find any inconvenience by the change, thou come back to it again: For it is hard to diſtinguiſh that which is generally held good and wholeſome, from that which is good particularly, and fit for a mans own Body. To befree minded, and chearfully diſpoſed at hours of Meat, and of Sleep, and of Exerciſe, is one of the beſt precepts for long Life. As for the Paſſions and Studies of the Mind; avoid envy, anxious Fears, Anger fretting inwards, ſubtil and knotty Inquiſitions, Joys, and Exhilarations in Exceſs, Sadneſs not communicated; entertain Hopes, Mirth rather than Joy, variety of Delights, rather than Surfeit of them, Wonder and Admiration, and therefore Novelties, Studies that ſill the mind with ſplendid and illuſtrious Objects, as Hiſtories, Fables, and Contemplations of Nature. If you fly Phyſick in Health altogether, it will be too ſtrange for your Body when you ſhall need it. If you make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect when Sickneſs cometh. I commend rather ſome Diet for certain Seaſons, than frequent uſe of Phyſick, except it be grown into a cuſtom: For thoſe Diets alter the Body more, and trouble it leſs. Deſpiſe no new accident in your Body, but ask opinion of it. In Sickneſs reſpect Health Principally, and in Health, Action: For thoſe that put their Bodies to endure in Healths may in moſt Sickneſſes, which are not very ſharp, be cured only with Diet and tending. Celſus could never have ſpoken it as a Phyſician, had he not been a wiſe Man withal, when he giveth it for one of the great Precepts of Health and Laſting, That a Man do vary, and enterchange contraries, but with an inclination to the more benign extream. Uſe Faſting and full Eating, but rather full Eating; Watching and Sleep, but rather Sleep; Sitting and Exerciſe, but rather Exerciſe, and the like: So ſhall Nature be cheriſhed, and yet taught Maſteries. Phyſicians are ſome of them ſo pleaſing, and conformable to the humour of the Patient, as they preſs not the true cure of the Diſeaſe; and ſome other are ſo regular, in proceeding according to Art for the Diſeaſe, as they reſpect not ſufficiently the condition of the Patient. Take one of a middle temper, or if it may not be found in one Man, combine two of either ſort; and forget not to call as well the beſt acquainted with your Body, as the beſt reputed of for his Faculty.

XXXI. Of Suſpicion.

SUSPICIONS amongſt thoughts are like Bats amongſt Birds, they ever fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repreſſed, or at leaſt well guarded; for they cloud the Mind, they leeſe Friends, that they check with Buſineſs, whereby Buſineſs cannot go on currant and conſtantly. They diſpoſe Kings to Tyranny, Huſbands to Jealouſie, Wiſe Men to Irreſolution and Melancholy. They are defects, not in the Heart, but in the Brain; for they take place in the ſtouteſt Natures: As in the example of Henry the Seventh of England, there was not a more Suſpicious Man, nor a more Stout: And in ſuch a compoſition they do ſmall hurt. For commonly they are not admitted, but with examination whether they be likely or no; but in fearful Natures they gain ground too faſt. There is nothing makes a Man ſuſpect much, more than to know little; and therefore Men ſhould remedy Suſpicion, by procuring to know more, and not to keep their Suſpicions in ſmother. What would Men have? Do they think thoſe they imploy and deal with are Saints? Do they not think they will have their own ends, and be truer to themſelves than to them? Therefore there is no better way to moderate Suſpicions, than to account upon ſuch Suſpicions as true, and yet to bridle them as falſe. For ſo far a Man ought to make uſe of Suſpicions, as to provide, as if that ſhould be true that he ſuſpects, yet it may do him no hurt. Suſpicions that the mind of it ſelf gathers are but Buzzes, but Suſpicions that are artificially nouriſhed, and put into Mens heads by the tales and whiſpering of others, have Stings Certainly the beſt means to clear the way in this ſame Wood of Suſpicions, is frankly to communicate them with the Party that he ſuſpects; for thereby he ſhall be ſure to know more of the truth of them than he did before; and withal, ſhall make that Party more circumſpect, not to give further cauſe of Suſpicion. But this would not be done to Men of baſe Natures: For they, if they find themſelves once ſuſpected, will never be true. The Italians ſay, Soſpetto licentia feda; as if Suſpicion did give a Paſsport to Faith: But it ought rather to kindle it, to diſcharge it ſelf.

XXXII. Of Diſcourſe.

SOME in their Diſcourſe deſire rather commendation of Wit, in being able to hold all Arguments, than of Judgment in diſcerning what is true: As if it were a praiſe to know what might be ſaid, and not what ſhould be thought. Some have certain Common Places, and Themes, wherein they are good, and want variety; which kind of Poverty is for the moſt part tedious, and when it is once perceived, ridiculous. The honourableſt part of Talk, is to give the Occaſion, again, to moderate and paſs to ſomewhat elſe; for then a Man leads the Dance. It is good in Diſcourſe and Speech of Converſation, to vary and intermingle Speech of the preſent occaſion with Arguments, Tales with Reaſons, asking of Queſtions with telling of Opinions, and Jeſt with Earneſt: For it is a dull thing to Tire, and as we ſay now, to Jade any thing too far. As for Jeſt, there be certain things which ought to be privileged from it; namely, Religion, Matters of State, Great Perſons, any Mans preſent Buſineſs of importance, and any Caſe that deſerveth pity. Yet there be ſome that think their Wits have been aſleep, except they dart out ſomewhat that is piquant, and to the quick: That is a vein which ſhould be bridled.

Parce, Puer, ſtimulis, & fortius utere loris.

And generally men ought to find the difference between Saltneſs and Bitterneſs. Certainly he that hath a Satyrical Vein, as he maketh others afraid of his Wit, ſo he had need be afraid of others Memory. He that queſtioneth much, ſhall learn much, and content much; but eſpecially if he apply his Queſtions to the skill of the Perſons whom he asketh: For he ſhall give them occaſion to pleaſe themſelves in ſpeaking, and himſelf ſhall continually gather knowledge. But let his Queſtions not be troubleſome; for that is fit for a Poſer: And let him be ſure to leave other Men their turns to ſpeak. Nay, if there be any that would reign, and take up all the time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others on, as Muſicians uſe to do with thoſe that dance too long Galliards. If you diſſemble ſometimes your knowledge of that you are thought to know, you ſhall be thought another time to know that you know not. Speech of a mans ſelf ought to be ſeldom, and well choſen. I knew one was wont to ſay in ſcorn, He muſt needs be a Wiſe Man, he ſpeaks ſo much of himſelf: And there is but one caſe, wherein a Man may commend himſelf with good Grace, and that is, in commending Vertue in another; eſpecially if it be ſuch a Vertue whereunto himſelf pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others ſhould be ſparingly uſed: For Diſcourſe ought to be as a Field, without coming home to any Man. I knew two Noblemen of the weſt part of England, whereof the one was given to Scoff, but kept ever Royal Cheer in his Houſe: The other would ask of thoſe that had been at the others Table, Tell truly, was there never a Flout or dry blow given? To which the Gueſt would anſwer, Such and ſuch a thing paſſed: The Lord would ſay, I thought he would mar a good Dinner. Diſcretion of Speech is more than Eloquence; and to ſpeak agreeably to him with whom we deal, is more than to ſpeak in good words, or in good order. A good continued Speech, without a good Speech of Interlocution, ſhews ſlowneſs; and a good Reply, or ſecond Speech without a good ſettled Speech, ſheweth Shallowneſs and Weakneſs; as we ſee in Beaſts, that thoſe that are weakeſt in the Courſe, are yet nimbleſt in the Turn; as it is betwixt the Greyhound and the Hare. To uſe too many Circumſtances e're one come to the Matter, is weariſome; to uſe none at all, is blunt.

XXXIII. Of Plantations.

PLANTATIONS are amongſt Ancient, Primitive, and Heroical Works. When the World was young, it begat more Children; but now it is old, it begets fewer: for I may juſtly account new Plantations to be the Children of former Kingdoms. I like a Plantation in a pure Soyl, that is, where People are not Diſplanted, to the end, to Plant others; for elſe it is rather an Extirpation, than a Plantation. Planting of Countries is like Planting of Woods; for you muſt make account to loſe almoſt Twenty years Profit, and expect your Recompence in the end. For the principal thing that hath been the deſtruction of moſt Plantations, hath been the baſe and haſty drawing of profit in the firſt years. It is true, Speedy Profit is not to be neglected, as far as may ſtand with the good of the Plantation, but no further. It is a ſhameful and unbleſſed thing, to take the Scum of People, and wicked condemned Men, to be the People with whom you Plant: and not only ſo, but it ſpoileth the Plantation; for they will ever live like Rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do miſchief, and ſpend Victuals, and be quickly weary; and then certifie over to their Country to the diſcredit of the Plantation. The People wherewith you Plant, ought to be Gardners, Plough-men, Labourers, Smiths, Carpenters, Joyners, Fiſhermen, Fowlers, with ſome few Apothecaries, Surgeons, Cooks, and Bakers. In a Countrey of Plantation, firſt look about what kind of Victual the Country yields of it ſelf to Hand; as Cheſnuts, Walnuts, Pine-Apples, Olives, Dates, Plumbs, Cherries, Wild-Honey, and the like, and make uſe of them. Then conſider what Victual, or Eſculent things there are, which grow ſpeedily, and within the year; as Parſnips, Carrots, Turnips, Onions, Raddiſh, Artichoaks of Jeruſalem, Maiz, and the like. For Wheat, Barly, and Oats, they ask too much labour: But with Peaſe and Beans you may begin, both becauſe they ask leſs labour, and becauſe they ſerve for Meat as well as for Bread. And of Rice likewiſe cometh a great encreaſe, and it is a kind of Meat. Above all, there ought to be brought ſtore of Bisket, Oat-meal Flour, Meal, and the like, in the beginning, till Bread may be had. For Beaſts and Birds, take chiefly ſuch as are leaſt ſubject to Diſeaſes, and multiply faſteſt; as Swine, Goats, Cocks, Hens, Turkeys, Geeſe, Houſe Doves, and the like. The Victual in Plantations ought to be expended, almoſt as in a beſieged Town; that is, with a certain Allowance; and let the main part of the Ground employed to Gardens or Corn, be to a common ſtock, and to be laid in, and ſtored up, and then delivered out in Proportion, beſides ſome Spots of ground that any particular Perſon will manure for his own private uſe. Conſider likewiſe what Commodities the Soyl, where the Plantation is, doth naturally yield, that they may ſome way help to defray the charge of the Plantation: So it be not, as was ſaid, to the untimely Prejudice of the main buſineſs; as it hath fared with Tobacco in Virginia. Wood commonly aboundeth but too much, and therefore Timber is fit to be one. If there be Iron Ore, and ſtreams whereupon to ſet the Mills, Iron is a brave commodity where Wood aboundeth. Making of Bay Salt, if the Climate be proper for it, would be put in experience. Growing Silk likewiſe if any be, is a likely commodity. Pitch and Tar, where ſtore of Firs and Pines are, will not fail. So Drugs, and Sweet Woods, where they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap Aſhes likewiſe, and other things that may be thought of. But moil not too much under Ground; for the hope of Mines is very uncertain, and uſeth to make the Planters lazy in other things. For Government, let it be in the hands of one aſſiſted with ſome Counſel; and let them have commiſſion to exerciſe Martial Laws with ſome limitation. And above all, Let Men make that Profit of being in the Wilderneſs, as they have God always, and his ſervice before their eyes. Let not the Government of the Plantation depend upon too many Counſellors and undertakers in the Country that Planteth, but upon a temperate number; and let thoſe be rather Noblemen and Gentlemen, than Merchants; for they look ever to the preſent Gain. Let there be Freedoms for Cuſtom, till the Plantation be of Strength; and not only Freedom from Cuſtom, but Freedom to carry their Commodities, where they may make the beſt of them, except there be ſome ſpecial cauſe of Caution. Cram not in People, by ſending too faſt, Company after Company, but rather hearken how they waſte, and ſend ſupplies proportionably; but ſo, as the number may live well in the Plantation, and not by ſurcharge be in penury. It hath been a great endangering to the health of ſome Plantations, that they have built along the Sea and Rivers in mariſh and unwholeſome Grounds. Therefore, though you begin there to avoid carriage, and other like diſcommodities, yet build ſtill rather upwards from the Streams, than along. It concerneth likewiſe the health of the Plantation, that they have good ſtore of Salt with them, that they may uſe it in their Victuals, when it ſhall be neceſſary. If you Plant where Savages are, do not only entertain them with trifles and gingles, but uſe them juſtly and graciouſly, with ſufficient guard nevertheleſs; and do not win their favour by helping them to invade their Enemies, but for their defence it is not amiſs. And ſend oft of them over to the Country that Plant, that they may ſee a better condition than their own, and commend it when they return. When the Plantation grows to ſtrength, then it is time to Plant with Women as well as with Men, that the Plantation may ſpread into Generations, and not be ever pieced from without. It is the ſinfulleſt thing in the World to forſake or deſtitute a Plantation once in forwardneſs; for beſides the diſhonour, it is guiltineſs of Blood of many commiſerable Perſons.

XXXIV. Of Riches.

I Cannot call Riches better than the baggage of Vertue. The Roman word is better, Impedimenta; for as the Baggage is to an Army, ſo is Riches to Vertue. It cannot be ſpared, nor left behind, but it hindreth the March: Yea, and the care of it ſometimes loſeth or diſturbeth the Victory. Of great Riches there is no real uſe, except it be in the Diſtribution, the reſt is but conceit: So ſaith Solomon, Where much is there are many to conſume it; and what hath the owner, but the ſight of it with his eyes? The perſonal Fruition in any man cannot reach to feel great Riches: There is a Cuſtody of them, or a power of Dole and Donative of them, or a Fame of them, but no ſolid uſe to the owner. Do you not ſee what feigned Prices are ſet upon little Stones and Rarities? And what works of Oſtentation are undertaken, becauſe there might ſeem to be ſome uſe of great Riches? But then you will ſay, they may be of uſe to buy men out of dangers or troubles: as Solomon ſaith, Riches are a ſtrong Hold in the Imagination of the Rich Man. But this is excellently expreſſed, That it is in Imagination, and not always in Fact: For certainly great Riches have ſold more Men than they have bought out. Seek not proud Riches, but ſuch as thou mayeſt get juſtly, uſe ſoberly, diſtribute chearfully, and leave contentedly: Yet have no Abſtract nor Frierly contempt of them, but diſtinguiſh, as Cicero ſaith well of Rabirius Poſthumus; In ſtudio rei amplificandae apparebat, non Avaritiae praedam, ſed inſtrumentum Bonitatis, quaeri. Hearken alſo to Solomon, and beware of haſty gathering of Riches: Qui feſtinat ad Divitias, non erit inſons. The Poets feign, that when Plutus (which is Riches) is ſent from Jupiter, he limps and goes ſlowly; but when he is ſent from Pluto, he runs, and is ſwift of foot; meaning, that Riches gotten by good means, and juſt labour, pace ſlowly: But when they come by the death of others, (as by the courſe of inheritance, Teſtaments, and the like) they come tumbling upon a Man. But it might be applied likewiſe to Pluto, taking him for the Devil; for when Riches come from the Devil (as by Fraud, and Oppreſſion, and unjuſt means) they come upon Speed. The Ways to inrich are many, and moſt of them foul; Parſimony is one of the beſt, and yet is not innocent; for it withholdeth Men from works of Liberality and Charity. The Improvement of the ground is the moſt natural obtaining of Riches; for it is our Great Mothers Bleſſing, the Earths, but it is ſlow; and yet where the Men of great wealth do ſtoop to Husbandry, it multiplieth Riches exceedingly. I knew a Nobleman of England, that had the greateſt Audits of any Man in my time: A great Graſier, a great Sheep-Maſter, a great Timber-Man, a great Collier, a great Corn-Maſter, a great Lead-Man, and ſo of Iron, and a number of the like points of Husbandry; ſo as the Earth ſeemed a Sea to him in reſpect of the perpetual Importation. It was truly obſerved by One, that himſelf came very hardly to a little Riches, and very eaſily to great Riches; for when a Mans ſtock is come to that, that he can expect the Prime of Markets, and overcome thoſe bargains, which for their greatneſs are few Mens money, and be Partner in the induſtries of Younger Men, he cannot but encreaſe mainly. The Gains of ordinary Trades and Vocations are honeſt, and furthered by two things, chiefly, by Diligence, and by a good Name, for good and fair dealing. But the Grains of Bargains are of a more doubtful Nature, when Men ſhall wait upon others Neceſſity, broke by Servants and Inſtruments to draw them on, put off others cunningly that would be better Chapmen, and the like practiſes which are crafty and naught. As for the Chopping of Bargains, when a Man buys, not to hold, but to ſell over again, that commonly grindeth double, both upon the Seller and upon the Buyer. Sharings do greatly inrich, if the Hands be well choſen that are truſted. Uſury is the certaineſt means of Gain, though one of the worſt; as that whereby a Man doth eat his Bread, In ſudore vultus alieni: And beſides, doth plow upon Sundays. But yet, certain though it be, it hath Flaws; for that the Scriveners and Brokers do válue unſound Men to ſerve their own turn. The Fortune, in being the firſt in an Invention, or in a Privilege, doth cauſe ſometimes a wonderful overgrowth in Riches; as it was with the firſt Sugar-Man in the Canaries: therefore if a Man can play the true Logician, to have as well Judgment as Invention, he may do great matters, eſpecially if the Times be fit. He that reſteth upon Gains Certain, ſhall hardly grow to great Riches; and he that puts all upon Adventures, doth oftentimes break, and come to Poverty: It is good therefore to guard Adventures with Certainties that may uphold loſſes. Monopolies and Coemption of Wares for Reſale, where they are not reſtrained, are great means to enrich, eſpecially if the Party have intelligence what things are like to come into requeſt, and to ſtore himſelf before-hand. Riches gotten by Service, though it be of the beſt Riſe, yet when they are gotten by Flattery, feeding Humours, and other ſervile Conditions, they may be placed amongſt the Worſt. As for fiſhing for Teſtaments and Executorſhips, (as Tacitus ſaith of Seneca, Teſtamenta & Orbos tanquam Indagine capi) it is yet worſe, by how much men ſubmit themſelves to meaner perſons, than in Service. Believe not much them that ſeem to deſpiſe Riches; for they deſpiſe them that deſpair of them, and none worſe when they come to them. Be not Penny-wiſe; Riches have Wings, and ſometimes they fly away of themſelves; ſometimes they muſt be ſet flying to bring in more. Men leave their Riches either to their Kindred, or to the Publick; and moderate Portions proſper beſt in both. A great State left to an Heir, is as a Lure to all the Birds of prey, round about to ſeize on him, if he be not the better eſtabliſhed in Years and Judgment. Likewiſe glorious Gifts and Foundations are like Sacrifices without Salt, and but the Painted Sepulchres of Alms, which ſoon will putrefie and corrupt inwardly: Therefore meaſure not thine advancements by quantity, but frame them by meaſure; and defer not Charities till death: For certainly if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth ſo is rather liberal of another mans, than of his own.

XXXV. Of Prophecies.

I MEAN not to ſpeak of Divine Prophecies, nor of Heathen Oracles, nor of Natural Predictions, but only of Prophecies that have been of certain Memory, and from hidden Cauſes. Saith the Pythoniſſa to Saul, To morrow thou and thy Son ſhall be with me. Homer hath theſe Verſes, At domus Aeneae cunctis dominabitur oris Et nati natorum, & qui naſcentur ab illis. A Prophecy, as it ſeems, of the Roman Empire. Seneca, the Tragedian, hath theſe Verſes. —Venient Annis Secula ſeris, quibus Oceanus Vincula rerum laxet, & ingens Pateat Tellus, Tiphyſque novos Detegat orbes; nec ſic terris Ultima Thule:

A Prophecy of the Diſcovery of America. The Daughter of Polycrates dreamed, that Jupiter bathed her Father, and Apollo anointed him; and it came to paſs that he was Crucified in an open Place, where the Sun made his Body run with Sweat, and the Rain waſhed it. Philip of Macedon dreamed he ſealed up his Wife's Belly; whereby he did expound is that his Wife ſhould be barren: But Ariſtander the South-Sayer told him his Wife was with Child, becauſe Men do not uſe to ſeal Veſſels that are empty. A Phantaſm that appeared to M. Brutus in his Tent, ſaid to him, Philipps iterum me videbis. Tiberius ſaid to Galba, Tu quoque, Galba, deguſtabis Imperium. In Veſpaſian's time there went a Prophecy in the Eaſt, that thoſe that ſhould come forth of Judea ſhould reign over the World: Which though it may be was meant of our Saviour, yet Tacitus expounds it of Veſpaſian. Domitian dreamed the night before he was ſlain, that a Golden Head was growing out of the Nape of his Neck: And indeed the ſucceſſion that followed him for many years made Golden Times. Henry the Sixth of England, ſaid of Henry the Seventh, when he was a Lad, and gave him Water, This is the Lad that ſhall enjoy the Crown for which we ſtrive. When I was in France, I heard from one Doctor Pena, that the Queen Mother, who was given to curious Arts, cauſed the King her Husband's Nativity to be Calculated under a falſe Name: And the Aſtrologer gave a Judgment, that he ſhould be killed in a Duel; at which the Queen laughed, thinking her Husband to be above Challenges and Duels: But he was ſlain upon a Courſe at Tilt, the Splinters of the Staff of Mongomery going in at his Bever. The trivial Prophecy that I heard when I was a Child, and Queen Elizabeth was in the Flower of her Years, was;

When Hempe is ſpun, England's done.

Whereby it was generally conceived, that after the Princes had Reigned, which had the principal Letters of that Word Hempe, (which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth,) England ſhould come to utter Confuſion; which thanks be to God is verified in the Change of the Name; for that the King's Style is no more of England, but of Britain. There was alſo another Prophecy, before the Year of 88. which I do not well underſtand: Three ſhall be ſeen upon a day, Between the Baugh and the May, The Black Feet of Norway. When that is come and gone, England build Houſes of Lime and Stone, For after Wars ſhall you have none. It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spaniſh Fleet that came in 88. For that the King of Spain's Sirname, as they ſay, is Norway. The Prediction of Regiomontanus, Octogeſſimus octavus mirabilis Annus, Was thought likewiſe accompliſhed, in the ſending of that great Fleet, being the greateſt in ſtrength, though not in number, that ever ſwam upon the Sea. As for Cleon's Dream, I think it was a Jeſt; It was, That he was devoured of a long Dragon; and it was expounded of a Maker of Sauſages that troubled him exceedingly. There are numbers of the like kind, eſpecially if you include Dreams and Predictions of Aſtrology. But I have ſet down theſe few only of certain credit for example. My judgment is, that they ought all to be deſpiſed, and ought to ſerve but for winter-talk by the fire-ſide: Though, when I ſay Deſpiſed, I mean it as for belief; for otherwiſe, the ſpreading or publiſhing of them is in no ſort to be Deſpiſed; for they have done much miſchief. And I ſee many ſevere Laws made to ſuppreſs them. That that have given them grace, and ſome credit, conſiſteth in three things: Firſt, That Men mark when they hit, and never mark when they miſs; as they do generally alſo of Dreams. The ſecond is. That probable Conjectures, or obſcure Traditions, many times turn themſelves into Prophecies, while the Nature of Man, which coveteth Divination, thinks it no peril to foretell that which indeed they do but collect: As that of Seneca's Verſe. For ſo much was then ſubject to Demonſtration, that the Globe of the Earth had great Parts beyond the Atlantick; which might be probably conceived not to be all Sea: And adding thereto, the Tradition in Plato's Timaeus, and his Atlanticus, it might encourage one to turn it to a Prediction. The third and Laſt (which is the Great one) is, That almoſt all of them, being infinite in number, have been Impoſtures, and by idle and crafty Brains meerly contrived and feigned after the Event paſt.

XXXVI. Of Ambition.

AMBITION is like Choler, which is an Humour that maketh Men Active, Earneſt, full of Alacrity, and Stirring, if it be not ſtopped, but if it be ſtopped and cannot have its way, it becometh a duſt, and thereby Malign and Venomous. So Ambitious Men, if they find the way open for their Riſing, and ſtill get forward, they are rather Buſie than Dangerous; but if they be checkt in their deſires, they become ſecretly diſcontent, and look upon Men and Matters with an Evil Eye, and are beſt pleaſed when things go backward, which is the worſt property in a Servant of a Prince or State. Therefore it is good for Princes, if they uſe Ambitious Men, to handle it ſo, as they be ſtill Progreſſive, and not Retrograde; which, becauſe it cannot be without inconvenience, it is good not to uſe ſuch Natures at all. For if they riſe not with their Service, they will take order to make their Service fall with them. But ſince we have ſaid, it were good not to uſe Men of Ambitious Natures, except it be upon neceſſity, it is fit we ſpeak in what caſes they are of neceſſity. Good Commanders in the Wars muſt be taken, be they never ſo Ambitious; for the uſe of their Service diſpenſeth with the reſt; and to take a Soldier without Ambition, is to pull off his Spurs. There is alſo great uſe of Ambitious Men, in being Skreens to Princes in matters of danger and Envy; for no man will take that part, except he be like a ſeeld Dove, that mounts and mounts, becauſe he cannot ſee about him. There is uſe alſo of Ambitious Men, in pulling down the greatneſs of any Subject that over-tops; as Tiberius uſed Macro in pulling down of Sejanus. Since therefore they muſt be uſed in ſuch caſes, there reſteth to ſpeak how they are to be bridled, that they may be leſs Dangerous. There is leſs Danger of them, if they be of mean Birth, than if they be Noble; and if they be rather harſh of Nature, than Gracious and Popular; and if they be rather new raiſed, than grown cunning, and fortified in their Greatneſs. It is counted by ſome a weakneſs in Princes to have Favourites; but it is of all others the beſt remedy againſt Ambitious Great Ones. For when the way of pleaſuring and diſpleaſuring lieth by the Favourite, it is impoſſible any other ſhould be Over-great. Another means to curb them, is to balance them by others as proud as they. But then there muſt be ſome middle Counſellors to keep things ſteady; for without that Ballaſt the Ship will roul too much. At the leaſt▪ a Prince may animate and inure ſome meaner Perſons, to be as it were Scourges to Ambitious Men. As for the having of them obnoxious to ruine, if they be of fearful Natures, it may do well; but if they be ſtout and daring, it may precipitate their Deſigns, and prove dangerous. As for the pulling of them down, if the Affairs require it, and that it may not be done with fafety ſuddenly, the only way is, the enterchange continually of Favours and diſgraces; whereby they may not know what to expect, and be as it were in a Wood. Of Ambitions, it is leſs harmful the Ambition to prevail in great things, than that other to appear in every thing; for that breeds confuſion, and mars buſineſs. But yet it is leſs Danger, to have an Ambitious Man ſtirring in buſineſs, than great in dependences. He that ſeeketh to be eminent amongſt able Men, hath a great task; but that is ever good for the Publick; but he that plots to be the only Figure amongſt Cyphers, is the decay of an whole Age. Honour hath three things in it: The Vantage Ground to do good, the approach to Kings and Principal Perſons, and the raiſing of a Mans own Fortune. He that hath the beſt of theſe Intentions when he aſpireth, is an honeſt Man; and that Prince that can diſcern of theſe Intentions in another that aſpireth, is a wiſe Prince. Generally, let Princes and States chuſe ſuch Miniſters as are more ſenſible of Duty, than of Riſing; and ſuch as love Buſineſs rather upon Conſcience, than upon Bravery; and let them diſcern a buſie Nature from a willing Mind.

XXXVII. Of Masks and Triumphs.

THESE Things are but Toys, to come amongſt ſuch ſerious Obſervations. But yet, ſince Princes will have ſuch things, it is better they ſhould be graced with Elegancy, than daubed with Coſt. Dancing to Song, is a thing of great State and Pleaſure. I underſtand it, that the Song be in Choire, placed aloft, and accompanied with ſome broken Muſick, and the Ditty fitted to the Device. Acting in Song, eſpecially in Dialogues, hath an extream good Grace: I ſay Acting, not Dancing, (for that is a mean and vulgar thing) and the Voices of the Dialogue would be ſtrong and manly, (a Baſe, and a Tenor, no Treble,) and the Ditty High and Tragical, not Nice or Dainty. Several Choires placed one over againſt another, and taking the Voice by Catches, Anthem-wiſe, give great Pleaſure. Turning Dances into Figure is a childiſh curioſity; and generally let it be noted, that thoſe things which I here ſet down, are ſuch as do naturally take the Senſe, and not reſpect petty Wonderments. It is true, the Alterations of Scenes, ſo it be quietly, and without noiſe, are things of great Beauty and Pleaſure, for they feed and relieve the Eye, before it be full of the ſame Object. Let the Scenes abound with Light, ſpecially Coloured and Varied; and let the Maſkers, or any other that are to come down from the Scene, have ſome motions upon the Scene it ſelf, before their coming down; for it draws the Eye ſtrangely, and makes it with great pleaſure to deſire to ſee that it cannot perfectly diſcern. Let the Songs be Loud and Chearful, and not Chirpings or Pulings. Let the Muſick likewiſe be Sharp and Loud, and well placed. The Colours that ſhew beſt by Candle-light, are White, Carnation, and a kind of Sea-water Green; and Oes or Spangs, as they are of no great Coſt, ſo they are of moſt Glory. As for Rich Embroidery, it is loſt, and not diſcerned. Let the Suits of Maskers be graceful, and ſuch as become the Perſon when the Vizars are off, not after examples of known Attires; Turks, Soldiers, Mariners, and the like. Let Anti-masks not be long, they have been commonly of Fools, Satyrs, Baboons, Wild-men, Antiques, Beaſts, Spirits, Witches, Ethiops, Pigmies, Turquets, Nymphs, Ruſticks, Cupids, Statua's moving, and the like. As for Angels, it is not Comical enough to put them in Anti-masks; and any thing that is hideous, as Devils, Giants, is on the other ſide as unfit. But chiefly, let the Muſick of them be Recreative, and with ſome ſtrange Changes. Some ſweet Odours ſuddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are in ſuch a Company, as there is Steam and Heat, things of great pleaſure and refreſhment. Double Masks, one of Men, another of Ladies, addeth State and Variety. But all is nothing, except the Room be kept clear and neat.

For Juſts, and Turneys, and Barriers, the Glories of them are chiefly in the Chariots, wherein the Challengers make their Entry, ſpecially if they be drawn with ſtrange Beaſts, as Lions, Bears, Camels, and the like; or in the Devices of their Entrance, or in the bravery of their Liveries, or in the goodly Furniture of their Horſes and Armour. But enough of theſe toys.

XXXVIII. Of Nature in Men.

NATURE is often Hidden, ſometimes Overcome, ſeldom Extinguiſhed. Force maketh Nature more violent in the Return; Doctrine and Diſcourſe maketh Nature leſs importune: But Cuſtom only doth alter and ſubdue Nature. He that ſeeketh Victory over his Nature, let him not ſet himſelf too great, nor too ſmall Tasks, for the firſt will make him dejected, by often Failings; and the ſecond will make him a ſmall Proceeder, though by often Prevailings. And at the firſt, let him practiſe with Helps, as Swimmers do with Bladders or Ruſhes; but after a time let him practiſe with diſadvantages, as Dancers do with thick Shooes: For it breeds great Perfection, if the practice be harder than the Uſe. Where Nature is mighty, and therefore the Victory hard, the Degrees had need be, Firſt, to ſtay and arreſt Nature in time, like to him that would ſay over the Four and Twenty Letters when he was Angry, than to go leſs in quantity: As if one ſhould in forbearing Wine, come from drinking Healths to a Draught at a Meal, and laſtly to diſcontinue altogether: But if a Man have the Fortitude and Reſolution to enfranchiſe himſelf at once, that is the beſt;

Optimus ille animi vindex, laedentia pectus Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque ſemel.

Neither is the Ancient Rule amiſs to bend Nature, as a wand to a contrary Extream, whereby to ſet it right, underſtanding it where the contrary Extream is no Vice. Let not a Man force a Habit upon himſelf with a perpetual Continuance, but with ſome Intermiſſion; for both the Pauſe re-inforceth the new Onſet: And if a Man that is not perfect be ever in practiſe, he ſhall as well practiſe his Errors, as his Abilities, and induce one Habit of both; and there is no means to help this, but by ſeaſonable Intermiſſion. But let not a Man truſt his Victory over his Nature too far; for Nature will lie buried a great time, and yet revive upon the Occaſion of Temptation. Like as it was with Aeſop's Damſel, turned from a Cat to a Woman, who ſate very demurely at the Boards end, till a Mouſe run before her. Therefore let a Man either avoid the Occaſion altogether, or put himſelf often to it, that he may be little moved with it. A Mans Nature is beſt perceived in privateneſs, for there is no Affection in Paſſion, for that putteth a Man out of his Precepts; and in a new Caſe of Experiment, for their Cuſtom leaveth him. They are happy Men whoſe Natures ſort with their Vocations, otherwiſe they may ſay, Multum Incola fuit Anima mea; when they converſe in thoſe they do not effect. In Studies whatſoever a man commandeſt upon himſelf, let him ſet hours for it; but whatſoever is agreeable to his Nature, let him take no care for any ſet Times, for his thoughts will fly to it of themſelves; ſo as the ſpaces of other buſineſs or Studies will ſuffice. A mans Nature runs either to Herbs or Weeds; therefore let him ſeaſonably water the one, and deſtroy the other.

XXXIX. Of Cuſtom and Education.

MENS Thoughts are much according to their Inclination, their Diſcourſe and Speeches according to their Learning and infuſed Opinions; but their Deeds are after as they have been accuſtomed: And therefore as Machiavel well noteth, (though in an ill-favoured Inſtance) there is no truſting to the force of Nature nor to the bravery of Words, except it be corroborate by Cuſtom. His inſtance is, that for the atchieving of a deſperate Conſpiracy, a Man ſhould not reſt upon the fierceneſs of any Mans Nature, or his reſolute undertakings; but take ſuch an one as hath had his hands formerly in Blood. But Machiavoel knew not of a Frier Clement, not a Ravilliac, nor a Jauregy, nor a Baltazer Gerrard; yet this Rule holdeth ſtill, that Nature, nor the Engagement of Words are not ſo forcible as Cuſtoms. Only Superſtition is now ſo well advanced, that Men of the firſt blood are as firm as Butchers by Occupation, and Votary Reſolution is made Equipollent to Cuſtom, even in matter of blood. In other things the predominancy of Cuſtom is every where viſible, inſomuch as a man would wonder to hear men Profeſs, Proteſt, Engage, give great Words, and then do juſt as they have done before, as if they were dead Images, and Engines moved only by the wheels of Cuſtom. We ſee alſo the Reign or Tyranny of Cuſtom, what it is. The Indians (I mean the Sect of their Wiſe Men) lay themſelves quietly upon a ſtack of Wood, and ſo Sacrifice themſelves by fire. Nay, the Wives ſtrive to be burned with the Corps of their Husbands. The Lads of Sparta of ancient time, were wont to be ſcourged upon the Altar of Diana without ſo much as Squeeking. I remember in the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's time, of England, an Iriſh Rebel condemned, put up a Petition to the Deputy, that he might be hanged in a Wyth, and not in an Halter, becauſe it had been ſo uſed with former Rebels. There be Monks in Ruſſia, for Pennance, that will ſit a whole night in a Veſſel of Water, till they be engaged with hard Ice. Many examples may be put down of the Force of Cuſtom, both upon mind and body. Therefore ſince Cuſtom is the Principal Magiſtrate of Man's life, let Men by all means endeavour to obtain good Cuſtoms. Certainly Cuſtom is moſt perfect when it beginneth in young years: This we call Education, which is in effect but an early Cuſtom. So we ſee in Languages, the Tongue is more pliant to all Expreſſions and Sounds, the Joynts are more ſupple to all Feats of Activity and motions in Youth than afterwards. For it is true, the late Learners cannot ſo well take the ply, except it be in ſome minds that have not ſuffered themſelves to fix, but have kept themſelves open and prepared to receive continual amendment, which is exceeding rare. But if the Force of Cuſtom, Simple and Separate, be great, the Force of Cuſtom Copulate, and Conjoyned, and Collegiate, is far greater. For their Example teacheth, Company comforteth, Emulation quickneth, Glory raiſeth: So as in ſuch Places the Force of Cuſtom is in his Exaltation. Certainly the great multiplication of Virtues upon humane Nature, reſteth upon Societies well ordained and diſciplined: for Common-wealths and good Governments do nouriſh Virtue Grown, but do not much mend the Seeds. But the miſery is, that the moſt effectual Means are now applyed to the Ends leaſt to be deſired.

XI. Of Fortune.

IT cannot be denyed, but outward accidents conduce much to Fortune: Favour, Opportunity, Death of others, Occaſion fitting Virtue. But chiefly the mould of a Man's Fortune is in his own hands. Faber quiſque Fortunae ſuae, ſaith the Poet. And the moſt frequent of External Cauſes is, that the Folly of one man is the Fortune of another. For no man proſpers ſo ſuddenly, as by others errors. Serpens niſi Serpentem comederit non fit Draco. Overt and Apparent Virtues bring forth Praiſe; but there be Secret and Hidden Virtues that bring forth Fortune. Certain Deliveries of a Man's ſelf, which have no Name. The Spaniſh Name, Deſemboltura, partly expreſſeth them, when there be not Stands nor Reſtiveneſs in a Man's Nature, but that the Wheels of his Mind keep way with the Wheels of his Fortune. For ſo Livy (after he had deſcribed Cato Major, in theſe words, in illo viro, tantum Robur Corporis & Animi fuit, ut quocunque loco natus eſſet, Fortunam ſibi facturus videretur) falleth upon that, that he had Verſatile Ingenium. Therefore if a man look ſharply and attentively, he ſhall ſee Fortune: For though ſhe be blind, yet ſhe is not inviſible. The way of Fortune is like the Milkie Way in the Skie, which is a Meeting or Knot of a number of ſmall Stars; not ſeen aſunder, but giving Light together: So are there a number of little, and ſcarce diſcerned Virtues, or rather Faculties and Cuſtoms that make men Fortunate. The Italian note ſome of them, ſuch as a Man would little think: When they ſpeak of one that cannot do amiſs, they will through in into his other Conditions that he hath, Poco di Matto. And certainly, there be not two more Fortunate properties, than to have a little of the Fool, and not too much of the Honeſt. Therefore extream Lovers of their Country, or Maſters, were never Fortunate, neither can they be. For when a man placeth his thoughts without himſelf, he goeth not his own way, and haſty Fortune maketh an Enterpriſer and Remover; (the French hath it better. Enterprenant or Remuant) but the exerciſed Fortune maketh the able Man. Fortune is to be Honoured and Reſpected, if it be but for her Daughters, Confidence and Reputation: For thoſe two Felicity breedeth; the firſt, within a Man's ſelf, the latter in others towards him. All wiſe men to decline the Envy of their own Virtues, uſe to aſcribe them to Providence and Fortune; for ſo they may the better aſſure them: And beſides, it is Greatneſs in a Man to be the Care of the Higher Powers. So Caeſar ſaid to the Pilot in the Tempeſt, Caeſarem portas, & Fortunam ejus. So Sylla choſe the Name of Felix, and not of Magnus. And it hath been noted, that thoſe that aſcribe openly too much to their own Wiſdom and Policy, end Unfortunate. It is written, That Timotheus the Athenian, after he had, in the account he gave to the State of his Government, often interlaced his Speech, And in this Fortune had no part, never proſpered in any thing he undertook afterwards. Certainly there be, whoſe Fortunes are like Homer's Verſes, that have a Slide and Eaſineſs more than the Verſes of other Poets, as Plutarch ſaith of Timoleon's Fortune, in reſpect of that of Ageſilaus, or Epaminondas: And that this ſhould be, no doubt it is much in a Man's ſelf.

XLI. Of Ʋſury.

MANY have made witty Invectives againſt Uſury. They ſay, That it is pity the Devil ſhould have God's part, which is the Tithe. That the Uſury is the greateſt Sabbath-breaker, becauſe his Plough goeth every Sunday. That the Uſurer is the Drone that Virgil ſpeaketh of: Ignavum fucus pecus à praeſepibus arcent. That the Uſurer breaketh the firſt Law that was made for Mankind after the Fall; which was, In ſudore vultus 〈◊〉 comedes panem tuum, not, In ſudore vultus alieni. That Uſurers ſhould have Orainge-tawny Bonnets, becauſe they do Judaize. That it is againſt Nature, for Money to beget Money, and the like. I ſay this only, that Uſury is a Conceſſum propter duritiem cordis: For ſince there muſt be Borrowing and Lending, and Men are ſo hard of Heart, as they will not lend freely, Uſury muſt be permitted. Some others have made Suſpicious and Cunning Propoſitions of Banks, diſcovery of Men's Eſtates, and other Inventions, but few have ſpoken of Uſury uſefully. It is good to ſet before us the Incommodities and Commodities of Uſury, that the good may be either Weighed out, o • Culled out; and wearily to provide, that while we make forth to that which is better, we meet not with that which is worſe.

The Diſcommodities of Uſury are, Firſt, That it makes fewer Merchants: for were it not for this lazy Trade of Uſury, Money would not lie ſtill, but would in great part be employed upon Merchandiſing, which is the Vena Porta of Wealth in a State. The ſecond, That it makes poor Merchants; for as a Farmer cannot husband his Ground ſo well, if he ſit at a great Rent: So the Merchant cannot drive his Trade ſo well, if he ſit at great Uſury. The third is incident to the other two; and that is, The decay of Cuſtoms, of Kings, or States, which Ebb or Flow with Merchandizing. The fourth, That it bringeth the Treaſure of a Realm or State into a few hands; for the Uſurer being at Certainties, and others at Uncertainties, at the end of the Game moſt of the Money will be in the Box; and ever a State flouriſheth, when Wealth is more equally ſpread. The fifth, That it beats down the price of Land; for the employment of Money is chiefly either Merchandizing or Purchaſing and Uſury way-lays both. The Sixth, That it doth dull and damp all Induſtries, Improvements, and new Inventions, wherein Money would be ſtirring, if it were not for this Slug. The laſt, That it is the Canker and Ruine of many Men's Eſtates, which in proceſs of time breeds a publick Poverty.

On the other ſide, the Commodities of Uſury are: Firſt, That howſoever Uſury in ſome reſpect hindreth Merchandizing, yet in ſome other it advanceth it; for it is certain, that the greateſt part of Trade is driven by young Merchants, upon borrowing at Intereſt: So as if the Uſurer either call in, or keep back his Money, there will enſue preſently a great ſtand of Trade. The ſecond is, That were it not for this eaſie borrowing upon Intereſt, Mens neceſſities would draw upon them a moſt ſudden undoing, in that they would be forced to ſell their Means (be it Lands or Goods) far under foot; and ſo whereas Uſury doth but gnaw upon them, bad Markets would ſwallow them quite up. As for Mortaging or Pawning, it will little mend the matter; for either men will not take Pawns without Uſe, or if they do, they will look preciſely for the forfeiture. I remember a cruel Monied Man in the Country, that would ſay, The Devil take this Uſury, it keeps us from Forfeitures of Mortgages and Bonds. The third and laſt is, That it is a vanity to conceive, that there would be ordinary borrowing without profit; and it is impoſible to conceive, the number of inconveniences that will enſue, if borrowing be cramped: Therefore to ſpeak of the aboliſhing of Uſury is idle. All States have ever had it in one kind, or rate or other: ſo as that opinion muſt be ſent to Utopia.

To ſpeak now of the Reformation and Reiglement of Uſury how the Diſcommodities of it may be beſt avoided, and the Commodities retained. It appears by the Ballance of Commodities and Diſcommodities of Uſury, two things are to be reconciled: The one, that the Tooth of Uſury be grinded, that it bite not too much: The other, that there be left open a means to invite Monied Men to lend to the Merchants, for the Continuing and Quickning of Trade. This cannot be done, except you introduce two ſeveral ſorts of Uſury, a leſs and a greater. For if you reduce Uſury to one low rate, it will eaſe the Common Borrower, but the Merchant will be to ſeek for Money. And it is to be noted, that the Trade of Mercha • dize, being the moſt Lucrative, may bear Uſury at a good rate; other Contracts not ſo.

To ſerve both Intentions the way would be chiefly thus: That there be two Rates of Uſury, the one Free and General for all, the other under Licence only to certain Perſons, and in certain Places of Merchandizing. Firſt therefore, let Uſury in general be reduced to Five in the Hundred, and let that Rate be proclaimed to be Free and Currant; and let the Sate ſhut it ſelf out to take any penalty for the ſame. This will preſerve Borrowing from any general Stop or Dryneſs. This will eaſe infinite Borrowers in the Country. This will in good part raiſe the price of Land, becauſe Land purchaſed at Sixteen years purchaſe, will yield Six in the Hundred, and ſomewhat more, whereas this Rate of Intereſt yields but Five. This by reaſon will encourage and edge Induſtrious and Profitable Improvements, becauſe many will rather venture in that kind, than take Five in the Hundred, eſpecially having been uſed to greater profit. Secondly, Let there be certain Perſons Licenſed to lend to known Merchants, upon Uſury, at a High-Rate; and let it be with the Cautions following. Let the Rate be, even with the Merchant himſelf, ſomewhat more eaſie than that he uſed formerly to pay: for by that means all Borrowers ſhall have ſome eaſe by this Reformation, be he Merchant or whoſoever. Let it be no Bank or Common Stock, but every man be Maſter of his own Money. Not that I altogether miſlike Banks, but they will hardly be brooked, in regard of certain ſuſpicions. Let the State be anſwered ſome ſmall matter for the Licenſe, and the reſt left to the Lender; for if the abatement be but ſmall, it will no whit diſcourage the Lender. For he, for example, that took before Ten or Nine in the Hundred, will ſooner deſcend to Eight in the Hundred, than give over his Trade of Uſury, and go from Certain Gains to Gains of Hazard. Let theſe Licenſed Lenders be in number indefinite, but reſtrained to certain principal Cities and Towns of Merchandizing, for then they will be hardly able to colour other mens moneys in the Country, ſo as the Licence of Nine will not ſuck away the current Rate of Five; for no man will Lend his Moneys far off, nor put them into unknown hands.

If it be objected, That this doth in a ſort Authorize Uſury, which before was in ſome places but permiſſive: The Anſwer is, that it is better to mitigate Uſury by Declaration, than to ſuffer it to rage by Connivence.

XLII. Of Youth and Age.

A Man that is Young in Years, may be Old in Hours, if he have loſt no time, but that happeneth rarely. Generally Youth is like the firſt Cogitations, not ſo wiſe as the ſecond; for there is a Youth in Thoughts as well as in Ages: And yet the Invention of Young Men is more lively than that of Old, and Imaginations ſtream into their minds better, and, as it were, more Divinely. Natures that have much heat, and great and violent deſires and perturbations, are not ripe for Action till they have paſſed the Meridian of their years; as it was with Julius Caeſar, and Septimius Severus, of the latter of whom it is ſaid, Juventutem egit Erroribus, imo Furoribus plenam; and yet he was the ableſt Emperor almoſt of all the Liſt. But repoſed Natures may do well in Youth, as it is ſeen in Auguſtus Caeſar, Coſmus Duke of Florence, Gaſton de Fois, and others. On the other ſide, Heat and Vivacity in Age, is an excellent Compoſition for buſineſs. Young Men are fitter to invent than to judge, fitter for Execution than for Counſel, and fitter for new projects than for ſettled buſineſs, for the Experience of Age in things that fall within the compaſs of it directeth them, but in new things abuſeth them. The Errors of Young Men are the ruin of Buſineſs; but the Errors of Aged Men amount but to this, that more might have been done or ſooner. Young Men in the conduct and manage of Actions embrace more than they can hold, ſtir more than they can quiet fly to the end without conſideration of the means and degrees, purſue ſome few Principles which they have chanced upon abſurdly, care not to innovate, which draws unknown Inconveniencies: Uſe extream Remedies at firſt, and that which doubleth all Errors, will not acknowledge or retract them, like an unready Horſe, that will neither Stop nor Turn. Men of Age object too much, conſult too long, adventure too little, repent too ſoon, and ſeldom drive buſineſs home to the full period, but content themſelves with a mediocrity of Succeſs. Certainly it is good to compound Employments of both; for that will be good for the preſent, becauſe the vertues of either Age may correct the defects of both, and good for Succeſſion, that Young Men may be Learners, while Men in Age are Actors. And laſtly, good for Extern Accidents, becauſe Authority followeth Old Men, and Favour and Popularity Youth. But for the moral part, perhaps Youth will have the preheminence, as Age hath for the politick. A certain Rabbins upon the Text, Your young Men ſhall ſee viſions, and your old Men ſhall dream dreams, inferreth, that Young Men are admitted nearer to God than Old, becauſe Viſion is a clearer Revelation than a Dream. And certainly the more a Man drinketh of the World, the more it intoxicateth; and Age doth profit rather in the powers of Underſtanding, than in the Vertues of the Will and Affections. There be ſome have an over-early Ripeneſs in their years, which fadeth betimes: Theſe are firſt ſuch as have brittle Wits, the edge whereof is ſoon turned; ſuch as was Hermogenes the Rhetorician, whoſe Books are exceeding ſubtil, who afterwards waxed ſtupid. A ſecond ſort is of thoſe that have ſome natural Diſpoſitions which have better grace in Youth than in Age; ſuch as is a fluent and luxuriant Speech, which becomes Youth well, but not Age: So Tully ſaith of Hortenſius, Idem manebat, neque idem decebat. The The third is, of ſuch as take too high a ſtrain at the firſt, and are magnanimous more than Tract of years can uphold: As was Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy ſaith in effect, Ultima primis cedebant.

XLIII. Of Beauty.

VERTUE is like a rich Stone, beſt plain ſet; and ſurely, Vertue is beſt in a Body that is comely, though not of delicate Features, and that hath rather Dignity of Preſence, than Beauty of Aſpect. Neither is it almoſt ſeen that very Beautiful Perſons are otherwiſe of great Vertue, as if Nature were rather buſie not to err, than in labour to produce Excellency; and therefore they prove accompliſhed, but not out of great Spirit, and ſtudy rather Behaviour than Vertue. But this holds not always, for Auguſtus Caeſar, Titus Veſpaſianus, Philip de Belle of France, Edward the fourth of England, Alcibiades of Athens, Iſmael the Sophy of Perſia, were all high and great Spirits, and yet the moſt Beautiful Men of their times. In Beauty, that of Favour is more than that of Colour; and that of decent and gracious Motion, more than that of Favour. That is the beſt part of Beauty which a Picture cannot expreſs, no nor the firſt ſight of the Life. There is no excellent Beauty that hath not ſome ſtrangeneſs in the proportion. A Man cannot tell, whether Apelles or Albert Durer were the more trifler; whereof the one would make a Perſonage by Geometrical Proportions, the other by taking the beſt Parts out of divers Faces to make one excellent. Such Perſonages I think would pleaſe no body, but the Painter that made them. Not but I think a Painter may make a better Face than ever was, but he muſt do it by a kind of Felicity, (as a Muſician that maketh an excellent Air in Muſick) and not by Rule. A Man ſhall ſee Faces, that if you examine them part by part, you ſhall find never a good, and yet altogether do well. If it be true, that the principal part of Beauty is in decent motion, certainly it is no marvel, though Perſons in Years ſeem many times more amiable, Pulchrorum Autumnus pubcher; for no Youth can be comely, but by pardon, and conſidering the Youth, as to make up the comelineſs. Beauty is as Summer-Fruits, which are eaſie to corrupt, and cannot laſt, and for the moſt part it makes a diſſolute Youth, and an Age, a little out of countenance; but yet certainly again, if it light well, it maketh Vertues ſhine, and Vices bluſh.

XLIV. Of Deformity.

DEFORMED Perſons are commonly even with Nature; for as Nature hath done ill by them, ſo do they by Nature, being for the moſt part (as the Scripture ſaith) void of Natural Affection, and ſo they have Revenge of Nature. Certainly, there is a conſent between the body and the mind, and where Nature erreth in the one, ſhe ventureth in the other; Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero. But becauſe there is in Man an Election touching the Frame of his mind, and a Neceſſity in the Frame of his body, the Stars of natural Inclination are ſometimes obſcured by the Sun of Diſcipline and Vertue: Therefore it is good to conſider of Deformity, not as a Sign which is more deceivable, but as a Cauſe which ſeldom faileth of the Effect. Whoſoever hath any thing fixed in his Perſon that doth induce Contempt, hath alſo a perpetual Spur in himſelf to reſcue and deliver himſelf from Scorn. Therefore all Deformed Perſons are extream bold. Firſt, as in their own Defence, as being expoſed to Scorn, but in proceſs of time, by a general Habit. Alſo it ſtirreth in them induſtry, and eſpecially of this kind, to watch and obſerve the weakneſs of others, that they may have ſomewhat to repay. Again, in their Superiors, it quencheth Jealouſie towards them, as Perſons that they think they may at pleaſure deſpiſe; and it layeth their Competitors and Emulators aſleep, as never believing they ſhould be in poſſibility of Advancement, till they ſee them in Poſſeſſion; ſo that upon the matter in a great Wit, Deformity is an advantage to Riſing. Kings in ancient times (and at this preſent in ſome Countries) were wont to put great Truſt in Eunuchs; becauſe they that are envious to all, are more obnoxious and officious towards one. But yet their Truſt towards them hath rather been as to good Spials, and good whiſperers, than good Magiſtrates and Officers. And much like is the Reaſon of Deformed Perſons. Still the ground is, they will if they be of Spirit, ſeek to free themſelves from Scorn, which muſt be either by Vertue or Malice; and therefore let it not be marvelled if ſometimes they prove excellent Perſons; as was Ageſilaus, Zanger the Son of Solyman, Aeſop, Gaſca Preſident of Peru, and Socrates may go likewiſe amongſt them, with others.

XLV. Of Building.

HOUSES are built to live in, and not to look on: Therefore let Uſe be preferred before Uniformity, except where both may be had. Leave the goodly Fabricks of Houſes, for Beauty only, to the Enchanted Palaces of the Poets, who build them with ſmall coſt. He that builds a fair Houſe upon an ill Seat, committeth himſelf to Priſon. Neither do I reckon it an ill Seat only wherethe Air is unwholeſome, but likewiſe where the Air is unequal; as you ſhall ſee many fine Seats ſet upon a knap of Ground, environed with higher Hills round about it, whereby the Heat of the Sun is pent in, and the Wind gathereth as in Troughs; ſo as you ſhall have, and that ſuddenly, as great Diverſity of Heat and Cold, as if you dwelt in ſeveral Places. Neither is it ill Air only that maketh an ill Seat, but ill ways, ill Markets; and if you will conſult with Momus, ill Neighbours. I ſpeak not of any more: Want of Water, want of Wood, Shade and Shelter, want of Fruitfulneſs, and mixture of Grounds of ſeveral Natures, want of Proſpect, want of level Grounds, wnat of Places at ſome near Diſtance for Sports of Hunting, Hawking, and Races; Too near the Sea too remote, having the Commodity of Navigable Rivers, or the Diſcommodity of their Overflowing: Too far off from great Cities, which may hinder Buſineſs, or too near them which lurcheth all Proviſions, and maketh every thing dear: Where a Man hath a great Living laid together, and where he is ſcanted. All which, as it is impoſſible perhaps to find together, ſo it is good to know them, and think of them, that a Man may take as many as he can; And if have ſeveral Dwellings, that he ſort them ſo, that what he wanteth in the one, he may find in the other. Lucullus anſwer Pompey well, who when he ſaw his Stately Galleries and Rooms ſo large and lightſome in one of his Houſes, ſaid, Surely an excellent Place for Summer, but how do you in Winter? Lucullus anſwered, Why do you not think me as wiſe as ſome Fowl are, that ever change their abode towards the Winter?

To paſs from the Seat to the Houſe it ſelf, we will do as Cicero doth in the Orator's Art, who writes Books De Oratore, and a Book he Entitles Orator; whereof the former delivers the Precepts of the Art, and the • a • ter the Perfection. We will therefore deſcribe a Princely Palace, making a brief model thereof. For it is ſtrange to ſee now in Europe ſuch huge Buildings, as the 〈◊〉 , and Eſcurial, and ſome others be, and yet ſcarce a very fair Room in them.

Firſt therefore, I ſay, you cannot have a perfect Palace, except you have two ſeveral Sides; a Side for the Banquet, as is ſpoken of in the Book of Heſter, and a Side for the Houſhold; the one for Feaſts and Triumphs, and the other for Dwelling. I underſtand both theſe Sides to be not only Returns, but Parts of the Front, and to be uniform without, though ſeverally Partitioned within, and to be on both ſides of a great and Stately Tower in the midſt of the Front, that as it were joyneth them together on either hand. I would have on the ſide of the Banquet in Front one only goodly Room above Stairs, of ſome forty foot high, and under it a Room for a Dreſſing or Preparing Place at times of Triumphs. On the other ſide, which is the Houſhold ſide, I wiſh it divided at the firſt into a Hall and a Chappel, (with a Partition between) both of good ſtate and bigneſs, and thoſe not to go all the length, but to have at the further end a Winter and a Summer Parlor, both fair; and under theſe Rooms, a fair and large Cellar ſunk under Ground; and likewiſe ſome Privy Kitchens, with Buteries and Pantries, and the like. As for the Tower, I would have it two Stories, of eighteen foot high apiece above the two Wings, and goodly Leads upon the Top, railed with Statua's interpoſed, and the ſame Tower to be divided into Rooms as ſhall be thought fit; the Stairs likewiſe to the upper Rooms, let them be upon a fair open Newel, and finely railed in with Images of Wood, caſt into a Braſs colour, and a very fair Landing Place at the Top. But this to be, if you do not point any of the lower Rooms for a Dining Place of Servants, for otherwiſe you ſhall have the Servants Dinner after your own; for the ſteam of it will come up as in a Tunnel. And ſo much for the Front, only I underſtand the Heighth of the firſt Stairs to be ſixteen Foot which is the Heighth of the lower Room.

Be • ond this Front is there to be a fair Court, but three ſides of it of a far lower Building than the Front. And in all the four Corners of that Court fair Stair-Caſes, caſt into Turrets on the out ſide, and not within the Row of Buildings themſelves. But thoſe Towers are not to be of the height of the Front, but rather proportionable to the lower Building. Let the Court not be Paved, for that ſtriketh up a great Heat in Summer, and much Cold in Winter; but only ſome Side-Alleys, with a Croſs, and the Quarters to Graze being kept Shorn, but not too near Shorn. The Row of Return on the Banquet Side, let it be all Stately Galleries, in which Galleries let there be three or five fine Cupola's in the length of it, placed at equal diſtance, and fine Coloured Windows of ſeveral Works. On the Houſhold ſide, Chambers of Preſence and ordinary Entertainment, with ſome Bed-Chambers, and let all three Sides be a double Houſe, without thorow Lights on the Sides, that you may have Rooms from the Sun, both for Fore-noon and After-noon. Caſt it alſo, that you may have Rooms both for Summer and Winter, Shady for Summer, and Warm for Winter. You ſhall have ſometimes fair Houſes ſo full of Glaſs, that one cannot tell where to become to be out of the Sun, or Cold, for Inbowed Windows I hold them of good uſe; (in Cities indeed Upright do better, in reſpect of the Uniformity towards the Street) for they be pretty Retiring Places for Conference; and beſides, they keep both the Wind and the Sun off: For that which would ſtrike almoſt through the Room, doth ſcarce paſs the Window. But let them be but few, four in the Court on the Sides only.

Beyond this Court let there be an Inward Court of the ſame Square and Heighth, which is to be environed with the Garden on all ſides; and in the inſide Cloiſtered upon all ſides; upon decent and beautiful Arches, as high as the firſt Story. On the Under Story towards the Garden, let it be turned to a Grotta, or place of Shade or Eſtivation; and only have opening and Windows towards the Garden, and be level upon Floor, no whit ſunk under Ground, to avoid all dampiſhneſs: And let there be a Fountain, or ſome fair Work of Statua's in the midſt of this Court, and to be Paved as the other Court was. Theſe Buildings to be for Privy Lodgings on both Sides, and the end for Privy Galleries: whereof you muſt fore-ſee that one of them be for an Infirmary, if the Prince or any ſpecial perſon ſhould be Sick, with Chambers, Bed-Chambers, Anticamera, and Recamera, joyning to it: This upon the ſecond Story. Upon the Ground Story a fair Gallery, open upon Pillars; and upon the third Story likewiſe, an open Gallery upon Pillars, to take the Proſpect and Freſhneſs of the Garden. At both Corners of the furtheſt Side, by way of Return, let there be two delicate or Rich Cabinets, daintily Paved, Richly Hanged, Glazed with Cryſtalline Glaſs, and a Rich Cupola in the midſt, and all other Elegancy that may be thought upon. In the Upper Gallery too I wiſh that there may be, if the Place will yield it, ſome Fountains running in divers Places from the Wall, with ſome fine Avoidances. And thus much for the model of the Palace; ſave that you muſt have, before you come to the Front, three Courts: and a Green Court Plain, with a Wall about it; a Second Court of the ſame, but more Garniſhed with little Turrets, or rather Embelliſhments upon the Wall; and a third Court, to make a Square with the Front, but not to be Built, nor yet Encloſed with a Naked Wall, but Encloſed with Taraſſes leaded aloft, and fairly Garniſhed on the three ſides; and Cloyſtered on the in-ſide with Pillars, and not with Arches below. As for Offices, let them ſtand at diſtance with ſome Low-Galleries, to paſs from them to the Palace it ſelf.

XLVI. Of Gardens.

GOD Almighty firſt Planted a Garden; and indeed it is the pureſt of Humane pleaſures. It is the greateſt refreſhment to the Spirits of Man; without which, Buildings and Palaces are but groſs Handy-works. And a Man ſhall ever ſee, that when Ages grow to Civility and Elegancy, Men come to Build Stately, ſooner than to Garden Finely: as if Gardening were the greater Perfection. I do hold it in the Royal Ordering of Gardens, there ought to be Gardens for all the Months in the Year, in which, ſeverally, things of Beauty may be then in ſeaſon. For December and January▪ and the latter part of November, you muſt take ſuch things as are green all Winter; Holly, Ivy, Bays, Juniper, Cypreſs Trees, Yews, Pine-Apple Trees, Fir Trees, Roſemary, Lavender, Perriwinckle the White, the Purple, and the Blew, Germander, Flags, Orange-Trees, Limon-Trees, and Myrtle, if they be ſtoved, and ſweet Marjoram warm ſets. There followeth for the latter part of January and February, the Mezerion Tree, which then bloſſoms, Crocus Vernus, both the Yellow and the Grey prim-Roſes, Anemones, the Early Tulippa, Hyacinthus Orientalis, Chamairis, Frettellaria. For March there comes Violets, ſpecially the Single Blew, which are Earlieſt, the Yellow Daffadil, the Daizy, the Almond-Tree in Bloſſom, the Peach-Tree in Bloſſom, the Cornelian-Tree in Bloſſom, ſweet Briar. In April follow the double White Violet, the Wall-Flower, the Stock Gilly-Flower, the Cowſlip, Flower-de-Lices, and Lilies of all Natures, Roſemary-Flower, the Tulippa, the Double Piony, the Pale Daffadill, the French Honey-Suckle, the Cherry-Tree in Bloſſom, the Damaſcen and Plumb-Trees in Bloſſom, the White Thorn in Leaf, the Lelack-Tree. In May and June come Pinks of all Sorts, ſpecially the Bluſh-Pink, Roſes of all kinds, except the Musk, which comes later, Hony Suckles, Strawberries, Bugloſs, Columbine, the French Marygold, Flos Africanus, Cherry-Tree in Fruit, Ribes, Figs in Fruit, Raſps, Vine-Flowers, Lavender in Flowers, the Sweet Satyrian with the White Flower, Herba Muſcaria, Lilium Convallium, the Apple-Tree in Boſſom. In July come Gilly-flowers of all Varieties, Musk-Roſes, and the Lime-Tree in Bloſſom. Early Pears and Plumbs in Fruit, Gennitings, Quodlings. In Auguſt come Plumbs of all ſorts in Fruit, Pears, Apricocks, Barberries, Filbeards, Musk-Melons, Monks-hoods of all Colours. In September comes, Grapes, Apples, Poppies of all Colours, Peaches, Melo-Cotones, Nectarines, Cornelians, Wardens, Quinces. In October and the beginning of November, come Serviſes, Medlars, Bulliſes; Roſes Cut or Removed to come late, Holly-oaks, and ſuch like. Theſe particulars are for the Climate of London: But my meaning is perceived, that you may have Ver Perpetuum, as the place affords.

And becauſe the Breath of Flowers is far Sweeter in the Air, (where it comes and goes, like the Warbling of Muſick) than in the Hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that Delight, than to know what be the Flowers and Plants that do beſt perfume the Air. Roſes Damask and Red are Flowers tenacious of their Smells, ſo that you may walk by a whole Row of them, and find nothing of their Sweetneſs; yea, though it be in a Morning Dew. Bays likewiſe yield no Smell as they grow, Roſemary little, nor Sweet-Marjoram. That which above all others yields the Sweeteſt Smell in the Air, is the Violet, ſpecially the White double Violet, which comes twice a year, about the middle of April, and about Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the Musk Roſe, then the Strawberry Leaves dying with a moſt excellent Cordial Smell. Then the Flower of the Vines, it is a little Duſt, like the Duſt of a Bent, which grows upon the Cluſter in the firſt coming forth. Then Sweet-Briar, then Wall-Flowers, which are very delightful to be ſet under a Parlour, or lower Chamber Window. Then Pinks and Gilly-Flowers. eſpecially the matted Pink, and Clove Gilly-Flower. Then the Flowers of the Lime-Tree. Then the Hony-Suckles, ſo they be ſomewhatafar off. Of Bean-Flowers I ſpeak not, becauſe they are Field-Flowers. But thoſe which perfume the Air moſt delightfully, not paſſed by as the reſt, but being Trodden upon and Cruſhed, are three, that is, Burnet, Wild-Time, and Water-Mints. Therefore you are to ſet whole Alleys of them, to have the Pleaſure when you walk or tread.

For Gardens, (ſpeaking of thoſe which are indeed Princelike, as we have done of Buildings) The Contents ought not well to be under Thirty Acres of Ground, and to be devided into three parts; a Green in the entrance, a Heath or Deſart in the going forth, and the Main Garden in the midſt, beſides Alleys on both ſides. And I like well, that four Acres of Ground be Aſſigned to the Green, ſix to the Heath, four and four to either Side, and twelve to the Main Garden. The Green hath two pleaſures; the one, becauſe nothing is more pleaſant to the Eye than Green Graſs kept finely ſhorn; the other, becauſe it will give you a fair Alley in the midſt, by which you may go in front upon a Stately Hedge, which is to encloſe the Garden. But becauſe the Alley will be long, and in great Heat of the Year or Day, you ought not to buy the ſhade in the Garden, by going in the Sun through the Green; therefore you are of either Side the Green to plant a Covert Alley upon Carpenters Work, about twelve foot in Heighth, by which you may go in ſhade into the Garden. As for the making of Knots of Figures, with Divers Coloured Earths, that they may lie under the Windows of the Houſe, on that Side which the Garden ſtands, they be but toys, you may ſee as good ſights many times in Tarts. The Garden is beſt to be ſquare, encompaſſed on all the four Sides with a Stately Arched Hedge: the Arches to be upon Pillars of Carpenters Work, of ſome ten foot high, and ſix foot broad, and the ſpaces between of the fame Dimenſion with the Breadth of the Arch. Over the Arches let there be an entire Hedge, of ſome four foot high, framed alſo upon Carpenters Work, and upon the Upper Hedge, over every Arch a little Turret, with a Belly, enough to receive a Cage of Birds; and over every Space between the Arches ſome other little Figure, with broad Plates of Round Coloured Glaſs gilt, for the Sun to play upon. But this Hedge, I intend to be raiſed upon a Bank, not ſteep, but gently ſlope, of ſome ſix foot, ſet all with Flowers. Alſo I underſtand, that this Square of the Garden, ſhould not be the whole breadth of the Ground, but to leave on the either ſide Ground enough for diverſity of Side Alleys unto which the two Covert Alleys of the Green may deliver you; but there muſt be no Alleys with Hedges at either and of this great Incloſure: not at the Higher End, for letting your proſpect upon this fair Hedge from the Green; nor at the further End, for letting your proſpect from the Hedge through the Arches upon the Heath. For the ordering of the Ground within the Great Hedge, I leave it to Variety of Device. Adviſing nevertheleſs, that whatſoever form you caſt it into; firſt it be not too buſie, or full of Work; wherein I, for my part, do not like Images cut out in funiper, or other Garden-stuff, they for Children. • ittle low Hedges, Round like Welts, with ſome pretty Pyramids, I like well: And in ſome places Fair Collums upon Frames of Carpenters Work. I would alſo have the Alleys ſpacious and fair. You may have cloſer Alleys upon the Sid • Grounds, but none in the Main Garden. I wiſh alſo in the very middle a fair Mount, with three Aſcents and Alleys, enough for four to walk a breaſt, which I would have to be perfect Circles, without any Bulwarks or Imboſſments, and the whole Mount to be thirty foot high, and and ſome fine Banquetting Houſe, with ſome Chimnies neatly caſt, and without too much Glaſs.

For Fountains, they are a great Beauty and Refreſhment, but Pools marr all, and make the Garden unwholſome, and full of Flies and Froggs. Fountains I intend to be of two Natures, the one that ſprinkleth or ſpouteth Water, the other a fair Receipt of Water, of ſome thirty or forty foot ſquare, but without Fiſh, or Slime, or Mud. For the firſt, the Ornaments of Images Guilt, or of Marble, which are in uſe, do well; but the main matter is, ſo to convey the Water, as it never ſtay, either in the Bowls, or in the Ciſtern, that the Water be never by reſt Diſcoloured, Green or Red, or the like; or gather any Moſſineſs or Putrefaction. Beſides that, it is to be cleanſed every day by the hand; alſo ſome ſteps up to it, and ſome Fine Pavement about it doth well. As for the other kind of Fountain, which we may call a Bathing-Pool, it may admit much Curioſity and Beauty, wherewith we will not trouble our ſelves, as that the bottom be finely paved, and with Images, the ſides likewiſe; and withal Embelliſhed with coloured Glaſs, and ſuch things of Luſtre; Encompaſſed alſo with fine Rails of low Statues. But the main point is the ſame, which we mentioned in the former kind of Fountain, which is, that the Water be in perpetual motion, fed by a Water higher than the Pool, and delivered into it by fair Spouts, and then diſcharged away under Ground by ſome equality of Bores, that it ſtay little. And for fine Devices of Arching Water without ſpilling and making it riſe in ſeveral forms (of Feathers, Drinking-Glaſſes, Canopies, and the like) they be pretty things to look on, but nothing to Health and Sweetneſs.

For the Heath, was the third part of our Plot, I wiſh it to be framed, as much as may be, to a Natural Wildneſs. Trees I would have none in it, but ſome Thickets, made only of Sweet-Briar, and Hony-Suckle, and ſome Wild Vine amongſt, and the Ground ſet with Vi • lets, Strawherries and Primroſes: for theſe are Sweet, and proſper in the Shade. And theſe to be in the Heath, here and there, not in any Order. I like alſo little Heaps, in the Nature of Mole-Hills (ſuch as are in Wild-Heaths) to be ſet, ſome with Wild-Thyme, ſome with Pinks, ſome with Germander, that gives a good ſlower to the eye; ſome with Periwinkle, ſome with Violets, ſome with Strawberries, ſome with Cou • lips, ſome with Daizies, ſome with Red-Roſes, ſome with Lilium Convallium, ſome with Sweet-Williams Red, ſome with Bears-Foot, and the like Low Flowers, being withal Sweet and Sightly. Part of which Heaps, to be with Standards, of little Buſhes, prickt upon their top, and part without; the Standards to be Roſes, Juniper, Holly, Bear-berries, (but here and there, becauſe of the ſmell of their bloſſom) Red Currans, Gooſeberries, Roſemary, Bays, Sweet-Briar, and ſuch like. But theſe Standards to be kept with Cutting, that they grow not out of Courſe.

For the Side Grounds, you are to fit them with variety of Alleys, private, to give a full ſhade, ſome of them, whereſoever the Sun be. You are to frame ſome of them, likewiſe for ſhelter, that when the wind blows ſharp, you may walk as in a Gallery. And thoſe Alleys muſt be likewiſe hedged at both ends, to keep out the Wind, and theſe cloſer Alleys muſt be ever finely Gravelled, and no Graſs, becauſe of going wet. In many of theſe Alleys likewiſe, you are to ſet Fruit Trees of all ſorts; as well upon the Walls, as in Ranges. And this would be generally obſerved, that the Borders wherein you plant your Fruit Trees, be ſair and large, and low, and not ſteep, and ſet with fine Flowers, but thin and ſparingly, leſt they deceive the Trees. At the end of both the ſide Grounds, I would have a Mount of ſome pretty Height, leaving the Wall of the Encloſure breaſt-high, to look abroad into the Fields.

For the Main Garden, I do not deny, but there ſhould be ſome fair Alleys ranged on both ſides with Fruit-Trees, and ſome pretty Tufts of Fruit-Trees and Arbors with Seats, ſet in ſome decent Order; but theſe to be by no means ſet too thick; but to leave the Main Garden ſo, as it be not cloſe, but the Air open and free; for as for Shade I would have you reſt upon the Alleys of the Side Grounds, there to walk, if you be diſpoſed, in the Heat of the Year or Day: but to make account, that the Main Garden is for the more temperate parts of the Year; and in the Heat of Summer, for the Morning and the Evening, or Over-caſt Days.

For Aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that largeneſs, as they may be turfed, and have Living Plants and Buſhes ſet in them, that the Birds may have more ſcope, and natural Neſting, and that no foulneſs appear in the floor of the Aviary. So I have made a Plat-form of a Princely Garden, partly by Precept, partly by Drawing, not a Model, but ſome general Lines of it, and in this I have ſpared for no coſt. But it is nothing, for Great Princes, that for the moſt part taking advice with Work-men, with no leſs Coſt, ſet their things together, and ſometimes add Statua's and ſuch things, for State and Magnificence, but nothing to the true pleaſure of a Garden.

XLVII. Of Negotiating.

IT is generally better to deal by Speech, than by Letter; and by the mediation of a Third, than by a man's ſelf. Letters are good, when a Man would draw an Anſwer by Letter back again; or when it may ſerve for a Man's Juſtification afterwards to produce his own Letter, or where it may be danger to be interrupted or heard by pieces. To deal in Perſon is good, when a Man's face breedeth Regard, as commonly with Inferiors; or in tender Caſes, where a Man's Eye upon the Countenance of him with whom he ſpeaketh, may give him a Direction how far to go: And generally where a man will reſerve to himſelf liberty either to Diſavow, or to Expound. In choice of Inſtruments, it is better to chuſe men of a plainer ſort that are like to do that is committed to them, and to report back again faithfully the ſucceſs, than thoſe that are cunning to contrive out of other Mens Buſineſs ſomewhat to grace themſelves, and will help the matter in Report for ſatisfaction ſake. Uſe all ſuch Perſons as affect the buſineſs wherein they are imployed, for that quickneth much; and ſuch as are fit for the matter: As bold Men for Expoſtulation, fair ſpoken Men for Perſwaſion, crafty Men for Enquiry and Obſervation, froward and abſurd Men for buſineſs that doth not well bear out it ſelf. Uſe alſo ſuch as have been lucky, and prevailed before in things wherein you have imployed them, for that breeds confidence, and they will ſtrive to maintain their Preſcription. It is better to ſound a Perſon with whom one Deals afar off, than to fall upon the point at firſt; except you mean to ſurpriſe him by ſome ſhort Queſtion. It is better Dealing with Men in Appetite, than with thoſe that are where they would be. If a Man Deal with another upon Conditions, the ſtart of the firſt Performance is all, which a Man cannot reaſonably Demand, except either the nature of the thing be ſuch which muſt go before; or elſe a Man can perſwade the other Party that he ſhall ſtill need him in ſome other thing; or elſe that he be counted the honeſter Man. All Practice is to Diſcover, or to Work: Men Diſcover themſelves in Truſt, in Paſſion, at unawares, and of neceſſity, when they would have ſomewhat done, and cannot find an apt Pretext. If you would Work any Man, you muſt either know his nature and faſhions, and ſo lead him; or his ends, and ſo perſwade him; or his weakneſs and diſadvantages, and ſo awe him; or thoſe that have Intereſt in him, and ſo govern him. In Dealing with cunning Perſons we muſt ever conſider their ends to interpret their Speeches; and it is good to ſay little to them, and that which they leaſt look for. In all Negotiations of difficulty a Man may not look to ſow and reap at once, but muſt prepare buſineſs, and ſo ripen it by degrees.

XLVIII. Of Followers and Friends.

COSTLY Followers are not to be liked, leſt while a Man maketh his Train longer, he makes his Wings ſhorter. I reckon to be coſtly, not them alone which charge the Purſe, but which are weariſome and importunate in Suits. Ordinary Followers ought to challenge no higher Conditions than Countenance, Recommendation, and Protection from wrongs. Factious Followers are worſe to be liked, which follow not upon Affection to him with whom they range themſelves, but upon Diſcontentment conceived againſt ſome other; whereupon commonly enſueth that ill intelligence that we many times ſee between great Parſonages. Likewiſe glorious Followers who make themſelves as Trumpets of Commendation of thoſe that follow, are full of Inconvenience; for they taint buſineſs through want of Secrecy, and they export Honour from a Man, and make him a return in Envy. There is a kind of Followers likewiſe which are dangerous, being indeed Eſpials; which enquire the ſecrets of the Houſe, and bear Tales of them to other; yet ſuch Men, many times, are in great favour; for they are officious, and commonly exchange Tales, the Following by certain Eſtates of Men, anſwerable to that which a great Perſon himſelf profeſſeth, (as of Soldiers to him that hath been employed in the Wars, and the like) hath ever been a thing Civil, and well taken even in Monarchies; ſo it be without too much pomp of popularity. But the moſt honourable kind of Following, is to be followed, as one that apprehendeth to advance Vertue and Deſert in all ſorts of Perſons. And yet where there is no eminent odds in ſufficiency, it is better to take with the more paſſable, than with the more able. And beſides, to ſpeak truth, in baſe times Active Men are of more uſe than Vertuous. It is true, that in Government it is good to uſe Men of one Rank equally; for to countenance ſome extraordinarily, is to make them inſolent, and the reſt diſcontent, becauſe they may claim a due. But contrariwiſe, in favour to uſe Men with much difference and election is good; for it maketh the Perſons preferred more thankful, and the reſt more officious, becauſe all is of favour. It is good diſcretion not to make too much of any Man at the firſt; becauſe one cannot hold out that proportion. To be governed (as we call it) by one, is not ſafe; for it ſhews Softneſs, and gives a freedom to Scandal and Diſreputation; for thoſe that would not cenſure or ſpeak ill of a Man immediately, will talk more boldly of thoſe that are ſo great with them, and thereby wound their honour, yet to be diſtracted with many is worſe; for it makes Men to be of the laſt Impreſſion, and full of Change. To take advice of ſome few Friends is ever honourable; for Lookers on, many times, ſee more tha • Gameſters, and the Vale beſt diſcovereth the Hill. There is little Friendſhip in the World, and leaſt of all between equals, which was wont to be magnified. That that is, is between Superior and inferior, whoſe Fortunes may comprehend one the other.

XLIX. Of Suitors.

MANY ill matters and projects are undertaken, and private Suits do putrefie the publick Good. Many good matters are undertaken with bad minds, I mean, not only corrupt minds, but crafty minds that intend not Performance. Some embrace Suits which never mean to deal effectually in them; but if they ſee there may be life in the matter by ſome other mean, they will be content to win a Thank, or take a ſecond Reward, or at leaſt to make uſe in the mean time of the Suitor's hopes. Some take hold of Suits only for an occaſion to croſs ſome other; or to make an information, whereof they could not otherwiſe have apt Pretext, without care what become of the Suit when that turn is ſerv'd; or generally, to make other Mens buſineſs a kind of Entertainment to bring in their own. Nay, ſome undertake Suits with a full purpoſe to let them fall, to the end, to gratifie the adverſe Party or Competitor. Surely there is in ſome ſort a Right in every Suit; either a Right of Equity, if it be a Suit of Controverſie; or a Right of Deſert, if it be a Suit of Petition. If Affections lead a Man to favour the wrong ſide in Juſtice, let him rather uſe his Countenance to compound the matter, than to carry it. If Affection lead a Man to favour the leſs worthy in Deſert, let him do it without depraving or diſabling the better Deſerver. In Suits which a Man doth not well underſtand, it is good to refer them to ſome Friend of Truſt and Judgment, that may report, whether he may deal in them with Honour; but let him chuſe well his Referendaries, for elſe he may be led by the Noſe. Suitors are ſo diſtaſted with Delays and Abuſes, that plain dealing in denying to deal in Suits at firſt, and reporting the ſucceſs barely, and in challenging no more thanks than one hath deſerved, is grown not only Honourable, but alſo Gracious. In Suits of Favour, the firſt coming ought to take little place; ſo far forth Conſideration may be had of his Truſt, that if intelligence of the matter could not otherwiſe have been had, but by him, advantage be not taken of the Note, but the Party left to his other means, and in ſome ſort recompenced for his Diſcovery. To be ignorant of the value of a Suit is ſimplicity; as well as to be ignorant of the Right thereof is want of Conſcience. Secrecy in Suits is a great mean of obtaining; for voicing them to be in forwardneſs, may diſcourage ſome kind of Suitors; but doth quicken and awaken others; but Timing of the Suit is the principal. Timing, I ſay, not only in reſpect of the Perſon that ſhould grant it, but in reſpect of thoſe which are like to croſs it. Let a Man in the choice of his mean, rather chuſe the fitteſt mean, than the greateſt mean; and rather them that deal in certain Things, than thoſe that are General. The Reparation of a Denial, is ſometimes equal to the firſt Grant; if a Man ſhew himſelf, neither dejected, nor diſcontented: Iniquum petas, ut Aequum feras; is a good rule, where a Man hath ſtrength of Favour: But otherwiſe a Man were better riſe in his Suit; for he that would have ventured at firſt to have loſt the Suitor, will not in the Concluſion loſe both the Suitor, and his own former favour. Nothing is thought ſo eaſie a requeſt to a great Perſon as his Letter; and yet, if it be not in a good Cauſe, it is ſo much out of his Reputation. There are no worſe Inſtruments than theſe general Contrivers of Suits, for they are but a kind of poyſon and infection to publick proceedings.

L. Of Studies.

STUDIES ſerve for Delight, for Ornament, and for Ability. Their chief uſe for Delight is in Privateneſs and Retiring; for Ornament is in Diſcourſe; and for Ability, is in the Judgment and Diſpoſition of Buſineſs. For expert Men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars one by one; but the general Counſels and the Plots, and Marſhalling of Affairs, come beſt from thoſe that are Learned. To ſpend too much time in Studies is ſloth; to uſe them too much for Ornament is affectation; to make Judgment wholly by their Rules is the humour of a Scholar. They perfect Nature, and are perfected by experience: for Natural Abilities are like Natural Plants, that need Proyning by Study, and Studies themſelves do give forth Directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience. Crafty Men contemn Studies, Simple Men admire them, and Wiſe Men uſe them: For they teach not their own uſe, but that is a Wiſdom without them, and above them, won by Obſervation. Read not to Contradict and Confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find Talk and Diſcourſe, but to weigh and conſider. Some Books are to be taſted, others to be ſwallowed, and ſome few to be chewed and digeſted; that is, ſome Books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not curiouſly; and ſome few to be read, wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some Books alſo may be read by Deputy, and Extracts made of them by others: But that would be only in the leſs important Arguments, and the meaner ſort of Books, elſe diſtilled Books are like common diſtilled Waters, flaſhy things. Reading maketh a full Man; Conference a ready Man; and Writing an exact Man. And therefore if a Man Write little, he had need have a great memory; if he Confer little, he had need have a preſent Wit; and if he Read little, he had need have much cunning to ſeem to know that he doth not. Hiſtories make Men Wiſe, Poets Witty, the Mathematicks Subtil, Natural Philoſophy Deep, Moral Grave, Logick and Rhetorick able to Contend. Abiunt Studia in Mores; Nay, there is no Stand or Impediment in the Wit, but may be wrought out by fit Studies: Like as Diſeaſes of the Body may have appropriate Exerciſes. Bowling is good for the Stone and Reins, Shooting for the Lungs and Breaſt, Gentle Walking for the Stomach, Riding for the Head, and the like. So if a Man's Wit be wandering, let him Study the Mathematicks; for in Demonſtrations, if his Wit be called away never ſo little, he muſt begin again: If his Wit be not apt to diſtinguiſh or find differences, let him Study the School-Men; for they are Cumini ſectores. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one thing to prove and illuſtrate another, let him Study the Lawyers Caſes; ſo every Defect of the mind may have a ſpecial Receipt.

LI. Of Faction.

MANY have an Opinion not Wiſe; that for a Prince to govern his Eſtate, or for a great Perſon to govern his Proceedings, according to the reſpect of Factions, is a principal part of Policy; whereas contrariwiſe, the chiefeſt Wiſdom is, either in ordering thoſe things which are General, and wherein Men of ſeveral Factions do nevertheleſs agree; or in dealing with correſpondence to particular perſons one by one. But I ſay not, that the conſideration of Factions is to be neglected. Mean Men in their riſing muſt adhere, but great Men that have ſtrength in themſelves, were better to maintain themſelves indifferent and Neutral: Yet even in beginners to adhere ſo moderately, as he be a Man of the one Faction, which is moſt paſſable with the other, commonly giveth beſt way. The lower and weaker Faction is the firmer in Conjunction: and it is often ſeen, that a few that are ſtiff, do tire out a great number that are more moderate. When one of the Factions is extinguiſhed, the remaining ſubdivideth: As the Faction between Lucullus, and the reſt of the Nobles of the Senate (which they called Optimates) held out a while againſt the Faction of Pompey and Caeſar; but when the Senates Authority was pulled down, Caeſar and Pompey ſoon after brake. The Faction or Party of Antonius, and Octavianus Caeſar, againſt Brutus and Caſſius, held out likewiſe for a time: But when Brutus and Caſſius were overthrown, then ſoon after Antonius and Octavianus brake and ſubdivided. Theſe examples are of Wars, but the ſame holdeth in private Factions: And therefore thoſe that are Seconds in Factions, do many times, when the Faction ſubdivideth, prove Principals; but many times alſo they prove Cyphers and caſhier'd. For many a Man's ſtrength is in oppoſition, and when that faileth, he groweth out of uſe. It is commonly ſeen, that Men once placed, take in with the contrary Faction to that, by which they enter, thinking belike that they have their firſt ſure, and now are ready for a new Purchaſe. The Traitor in Faction lightly goeth away with it; for when matters have ſtuck long in Ballancing, the winning of ſome one Man caſteth them, and he getteth all the thanks. The even carriage between two Factions, proceedeth not always of moderation, but of a trueneſs to a Man's ſelf, with end to make uſe of both. Certainly in Italy, they hold it a little ſuſpect in Popes, when they have often in their mouth padre commune, and take it to be a Sign of one that meaneth to refer all to the greatneſs of his own Houſe. Kings had need beware, how they ſide themſelves, and make themſelves as of a Faction or Party; for Leagues within the State are ever pernicious to Monarchies; for they raiſe an Obligation, Paramount to Obligation of Soveraignty, and make the King, Tanquam unus ex nobis; as was to be ſeen in the League of France. When Factions are carried too high, and too violently, it is a ſign of weakneſs in Princes, and much to the prejudice both of their Authority and Buſineſs. The motions of Factions under Kings, ought to be like the motions (as the Aſtronomers ſpeak) of the Inferior Orbs, which may have their proper motions, but yet ſtill are quietly carried by the higher motion of Primum Mobile.

LII. Of Ceremonies and Reſpects.

HE that is only real, had need have exceeding great parts of Virtue, as the Stone had need to be rich, that is ſet without foil. But if a Man mark it well, it is in praiſe and commendation of Men, as it is in gettings and gains: For the Proverb is true, That light gains make heavy purſes; for light gains come thick, whereas great come but now and then. So it is true, that ſmall matters win great commendation, becauſe they are continually in uſe, and in note; whereas the occaſion of any great Virtue cometh but on Feſtivals. Therefore it doth much add to a Man's Reputation, and is, (as Queen Iſabella ſaid) Like perpetual Letters Commendatory, to have good forms. To attain them, it almoſt ſufficeth not to deſpiſe them; for ſo ſhall a Man obſerve them in others: And let him truſt himſelf with the reſt. For if he labour too much to expreſs them, he ſhall loſe their Grace, which is to be Natural and Unaffected. Some Mens behaviour is like a Verſe, wherein every Syllable is meaſured. How can a Man comprehend great matters, that breaketh his mind too much to ſmall obſervations? Not to uſe Ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to uſe them again; and ſo diminiſh reſpect to himſelf; eſpecially, they are not to be omitted to ſtrangers, and formal Natures: But the dwelling upon them, and exalting them above the Moon, is not only tedious, but doth diminiſh the faith and credit of him that ſpeaks. And certainly, there is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting Paſſions amongſt Complements, which is of ſingular uſe, if a Man can hit upon it. Amongſt a Man's Peers, a Man ſhall be ſure of familiarity; and therefore it is good a little to keep State. Amongſt a Man's Inferiors, one ſhall be ſure of Reverence; and therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that is too much in any thing, ſo that he giveth another occaſion of Society, maketh himſelf cheap. To apply ones ſelf to others is good, ſo it be with Demonſtration, that a Man doth it upon regard, and not facility. It is a good Precept generally in ſeconding another, yet to add ſomewhat of ones own; as if you would grant his opinion, let it be with ſome diſtinction; if you will follow his Motion, let it be with Condition; if you allow his Counſel, let it be with alledging further Reaſon. Men had need beware, how they be too perfect in Complements: For be they never ſo ſufficient otherwiſe, their enviers will be ſure to give them that Attribute, to the diſadvantage of their greater Vertues. It is loſs alſo in buſineſs, to be too full of reſpects, or to be too curious in obſerving Times and Opportunities. Solomon ſaith, He that conſidereth the Wind ſhall not Sow, and he that looketh to the Clouds ſhall not Reap. A wiſe Man will make more opportunities than he finds. Mens Behaviour ſhould be like their Apparel, not too Strait, or point device, but free for Exerciſe or Motion.

LIII. Of Praiſe.

PRAISE is the Reflection of Vertue, but it is as the Glaſs or Body which giveth the Reflection. If it be from the common People, it is commonly falſe and naught, and rather followeth vain Perſons than vertuous. For the common People underſtand not many excellent vertues: the loweſt vertues draw praiſe from them, the middle vertues work in them Aſtoniſhment or Admiration, but of the higheſt Virtues they have no ſence or perceiving at all, but ſhews and Species virtutibus ſimiles ſerve beſt with them. Certainly Fame is like a River, that beareth up things light and ſwoln, and drowns things weighty and ſolid: But if Perſons of Quality and Judgment concur, then it is, (as the Scripture ſaith) Nomen bonum inſtar ung • enti fragrantis. It filleth all round about, and will not eaſily away: For the Odours of Oyntments are more durable than thoſe of Flowers. There be ſo many falſe Points of Praiſe that a Man may juſtly hold it a ſuſpect. Some Praiſes proceed meerly of Flattery, and if he be an ordinary Flatterer, he will have certain common Attributes, which may ſerve every Man: If he be a cunning Flatterer, he will follow the Arch Flatterer, which is a Man's ſelf: And wherein a Man thinketh beſt of himſelf, therein the Flatterer will uphold him moſt; but if he be an impudent Flatterer, look wherein a Man is conſcious to himſelf that he is moſt defective, and is moſt out of Countenance in himſelf, that will the Flatterer Entitle him to per force, Spreta Conſcientia. Some Praiſes come of good wiſhes and reſpects, which is a form due in Civility to Kings and great Perſons, Laudando praecipere, when by telling Men what they are, they repreſent to them what they ſhould be. Some Men are praiſed maliciouſly to their hurt, thereby to ſtir envy and jealouſie towards them, Peſſimum genus inimicorum laudantium, inſomuch as it was a Proverb amongſt the Grecians; that he that was praiſed to his hurt ſhould have a puſh riſe upon his Noſe; as we ſay, That a bliſter will riſe upon ones Tongue that tells a Lye. Certainly moderate praiſe, uſed with opportunity, and not vulgar, is that which doth the good. Solomon ſaith, He that praiſeth his friend aloud, riſing early, it ſhall be to him no better than a Curſe. Too much magnifying of a Man or matter, doth irritate contradiction, and procure envy and ſcorn. To praiſe a Man's ſelf cannot be decent, except it be in rare caſes; but to praiſe a Man's Office or profeſſion, he may do it with good Grace▪ and with a kind of Magnanimity. The Cardinals of Rome, which are Theologues, and Fryars, and School-men, have a Phraſe of notable contempt and ſcorn towards civil buſineſs: For they call all Temporal buſineſs, of Wars, Embaſſages, Judicature, and other employments, Shirreri, which is under Sheriffries, as if they were but matters for Under-Sheriffs and Catchpoles: though many times thoſe Under-Sheriffries do more good than their high ſpeculations. Saint Paul, when he boaſts of himſelf, he doth oft interlace; I ſpeak like a Fool; but ſpeaking of his Calling, he ſaith, Magnifico Apoſtolatum meum.

LIV. Of Vain Glory.

IT was prettily deviſed of Aeſop, The Fly ſate upon the Axletree of the Chariot-Wheel, and ſaid, What a Duſt do I raiſe? So are there ſome vain Perſons, that whatſoever goeth alone, or moveth upon greater means, if they have never ſo little hand in it, they think it is they that carry it. They that are glorious, muſt needs be factious; for all bravery ſtands upon compariſons. They muſt needs be violent, to make good their own vaunts. Neither can they be ſecret, and therefore not effectual; but according to the French Proverb, Beaucoup de Bruit, peu de Fruit; Much Bruit, little Fruit. Yet certainly there is uſe of this Quality in Civil Affairs. Where there is an Opinion and Fame to be created, either of Virtue or Greatneſs, theſe Men are good Trumpeters. Again, as Titus Livius noteth in the caſe of Antiochus, and the Aetolians, There are ſometimes great effects of croſs Lyes: As if a Man that Negotiates between two Princes, to draw them to joyn in a War againſt the third, doth extol the Forces of either of them above meaſure, the one to the other: And ſometimes he that deals between Man and Man, raiſeth his own credit with both, by pretending greater Intereſt than he hath in either. And in theſe and the like kinds, it often falls out, that ſomewhat is produced of nothing: For Lyes are ſufficient to breed Opinion, and Opinion brings on Subſtance. In Military Commanders and Soldiers, Vain Glory is an eſſential Point: For as Iron ſharpens Iron, ſo by Glory one Courage ſharpneth another. In caſes of great Enterpriſe, upon Charge and Adventure, a Compoſition of Glorious Natures doth put Life into Buſineſs; and thoſe that are of ſolid and ſober Natures have more of the Ballaſt than of the Sail. In Fame of Learning the Flight will ſlow, without ſome Feathers of Oſtentation. Qui de contemnendâ Gloriâ Libros ſcribunt, Nomen ſuum inſcribunt. Socrates, Ariſtotle, Galen, were Men full of Oſtentation. Certainly Vain Glory helpeth to perpetuate a Man's Memory; and Virtue was never ſo beholden to humane Nature, as it received his due at the Second Hand. Neither had the Fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Secundus, born her Age ſo well, if it had not been joyned with ſome Vanity in themſelves; like unto Varniſh, that makes Cielings not only ſhine, but laſt. But all this while, when I ſpeak of Vain Glory, I mean not of that property that Tacitus doth attribute to Mucianus, Omnium quae dixerat, feceratque, Arte quadam Ostentator: For that proceeds not of Vanity, but of Natural Magnanimity and Diſcretion: And in ſome Perſons, is not only Comely, but Gracious. For Excuſations, Ceſſions, Modeſty it ſelf well governed, are but Arts of Oſtentation. And amongſt thoſe Arts there is none better than that which Plinius Secundus ſpeaketh of, which is to be liberal of Praiſe and Commendation to others, in that wherein a Man's ſelf hath any Perfection. For, ſaith Pliny very wittily, In commending another, you do your ſelf right: For he that you commend, is either Superior to you, in that you commend, or Inferior. If he be Inferior, if he be to be commended, you much more: If he be Superior, if he be not to b • commended, you much leſs. Glorious.Men are the ſcorn of wiſe Men, the admiration of Fools, the Idols of Paraſites, and the Slaves of their own Vaunts.

LV. Of Honour and Reputation.

THE Winning of Honour is but the revealing of Man's Virtue and Worth without Diſadvantage. For ſome in their Actions do woo and affect Honour and Reputation; which ſort of Men are commonly much talked of, but inwardly little admired. And ſome, contrariwiſe, darken their Virtue in the ſhew of it, ſo as they be undervalued in Opinion. If a Man perform that which hath not been attempted before, or attempted and given over, or hath been atchieved, but not with ſo good circumſtance, he ſhall purchaſe more Honour, than by effecting a matter of greater difficulty or virtue, wherein he is but a follower. If a Man ſo temper his Actions, as in ſome one of them he doth content every Faction or Combination of People, the Muſick will be the fuller. A Man is an ill Husband of his Honour that entreth into any Action, the failing wherein may diſgrace him more than the carrying of it through can Honour him. Honour that is gained and broken upon another, hath the quickeſt reflection, like Diamonds cut with Faſcets. And therefore let a Man contend to excel any Competitors of his in Honour, in out-ſhooting them, if he can, in their own Bow. Diſcreet Followers and Servants help much to Reputation: Omnis fama à Domeſticis emanat. Envy, which is the Canker of Honour is beſt extinguiſhed by declaring a Man's ſelf in his ends, rather to ſeek Merit than Fame; and by attributing a Man's ſucceſſes, rather to Divine Providence and Felicity than to his own Virtue or Policy. The true marſhalling of the Degrees of Soveraign Honour, are theſe. In the firſt place are, Conditores Imperiorum, Founders of States, and Commonwealths; ſuch as were Romulus, Cyrus, Caeſar, Ottoman, Iſmael. In the ſecond place are, Legiſlatores, Law-givers; which are alſo called Second Founders, or Perpetui Principes, becauſe they govern by their Ordinances after they are gone; ſuch were Lycurgus, Solon, Justinian, Edgar, Alphonſus of Castile the wiſe, that made the Siete Patridas. In the third place are, Liberatores or Salvatores; ſuch as compound the long miſeries of Civil Wars, or deliver their Countreys from Servitude of Strangers or Tyrants; as Auguſtus Caeſar, Veſpaſianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King Henry the Seventh of England, King Henry the Fourth of France. In the fourth place are Propagatores, or Propugnatores Imperii; ſuch as in Honourable Wars enlarge their territories, or make noble defence againſt Invaders. And in the laſt place are Patres Patriae, which Reign juſtly, and make the times good wherein they live. Both which laſt kinds need no Examples, they are in ſuch number. Degrees of Honour in Subjects are: Firſt, Participes Curarum, thoſe upon whom Princes do diſcharge the greateſt Weight of their Affairs, their Right Hands, as we call them. The next are, Duces Belli, Great Leaders, ſuch as are Princes Lieutenants, and do them notable ſervices in the Wars. The third are Gratioſi, Favourites, ſuch as need not this ſcantling, to be Solace to the Soveraign, and harmleſs to the People. And the fourth Negotiis Pares, ſuch as have great places under Princes, and execute their places with ſufficiency. There is an Honour likewiſe which may be ranked amongſt the greateſt, which hapneth rarely, that is, of ſuch as Sacrifice themſelves to Death or Danger for the Good of their Countrey; as was M. Regulus, and the two Decii.

LVI. Of Judicature.

JUDGES ought to remember, that their Office is, Jus dicere, and not Jus dare: To interpret Law, and not to make Law, or give Law: Elſe will it be like the Authority claimed by the Church of Rome, which under pretext of expoſition of Scripture, doth not ſtick to add and alter, and to pronounce that which they do not find; and by ſhew of Antiquity to introduce Novelty. Judges ought to be more learned than Witty, more Reverend than Plauſible, and more adviſed than Confident. Above all things Integrity is their Portion and proper Virtue: Curſed (ſaith the Law) is he that removeth the Land Mark. The miſlayer of a meer-Stone is to blame; but it is the unjuſt Judge that is the Capital Remover of Land-Marks, when he defineth amiſs of Lands and Property. One foul Sentence doth more hurt than many foul Examples; for theſe do but corrupt the Stream, the other corrupteth the Fountain. So ſaith Solomon, Fons turbatus, & V • na corrupta, eſt Juſtus cadens in cauſa ſua coram Adverſario. The Office of Judges may have reference unto the Parties that ſue, unto the Advocates that plead, unto the Clerks and Miniſters of Juſtice underneath them, and to the Soveraign or State above them.

Firſt, For the Cauſes or Parties that ſue. There be (ſaith the Scripture) that turn Judgment into Wormwood; and ſurely there be alſo that turn it into Vinegar; for Injuſtice maketh it bitter, and Delays make it ſour. The principal Duty of a Judge is to ſuppreſs force and fraud, whereof force is the more pernicious when it is open, and fraud when it is cloſe and diſguiſed. Add thereto contentious Suits, which ought to be ſpewed out as the Surfeit of Courts. A Judge ought to prepare his way to a Juſt Sentence, as God uſeth to prepare his way by raiſing Valleys, and taking down Hills: So when there appeareth on either ſide an high Hand, violent Proſecution, cunning Advantages taken, Combination, Power, Great Counſel, then is the Virtue of a Judge ſeen, to make Inequality Equal, that he may plant his Judgment as upon an even Ground. Qui fortiter emungit, elicit ſanguinem; and where the Wine-Preſs is hard wrought, it yields a harſh Wine that taſtes of the Grape-Stone. Judges muſt beware of hard Conſtructions, and ſtrained Inferences; for there is no worſe Torture than the Torture of Laws, eſpecially, in caſe of Laws penal; they ought to have care, that that which was meant for Terror, be not turned into Rigor, and that they bring not upon the People that Shower whereof the Scripture ſpeaketh, Pluet ſuper eos Laqueos: for penal Laws preſſed are a Shower of Snares upon the People. Therefore let Penal Laws, if they have been Sleepers of long, or if they be grown unfit for the preſent Time, be by wiſe Judges confined in the Execution, Judicis Officium eſt, ut Res ita Tempora Rerum, &c. In Cauſes of Life and Death, Judges ought (as far as the Law permitteth) in Juſtice to remember Mercy; and to caſt a ſevere Eye upon the Example, but a merciful Eye upon the Perſon.

Secondly, For the Advocates and Council that plead; Patience and Gravity of hearing is an eſſential part of Juſtice, and an over-ſpeaking Judge is no well-tuned Cymbal. It is no Grace to a Judge, firſt to find that which he might have heard in due time from the Bar, or to ſhew quickneſs of conceit in cutting off Evidence or Counſel too ſhort, or to prevent Informations by Queſtions though pertinent. The parts of a Judge in hearing are four; To direct the Evidence; to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of Speech. To Recapitulate, Select, and Collate the material Points of that which hath been ſaid; And to give the Rule or Sentence. Whatſoever is above theſe, is too much; and proceedeth either of Glory and willingneſs to ſpeak, or of Impatience to hear, or of ſhortneſs of Memory, or of want of a ſtayed and eq •• l Attention. It is a ſtrange thing to ſee, that the boldneſs of Advocates ſhould prevail with Judges; where as they ſhould imitate God in whoſe ſeat they ſit, who repreſſeth the Preſumptuous, and giveth Grace to the Modeſt. But it is more ſtrange, that Judges ſhould have noted Favourites; which cannot but cauſe multiplication of Fees▪ and ſuſpicion of By-ways. There is due from the Judge to the Advocate ſome Commendation and Gracing, where Cauſes are well handled, and fair pleaded; eſpecially towards the ſide which obtaineth not; for that upholds in the Client the Reputation of his Counſel, and beats down in him the conceit of his Cauſe. There is likewiſe due to the Publick a civil Reprehenſion of Advocates, where there appeareth cunning Counſel, groſs Neglect, ſlight Information, indiſcreet Preſſing, or an overbold Defence. And let not the Counſel at the Bar chop with the Judge, nor wind himſelf into the handling of the Cauſe anew, after the Judge hath declared his Sentence: But on the other ſide, let not the Judge meet the Cauſe half way, nor give occaſion to the Party to ſay, His Counſel or Proofs were not heard.

Thirdly, For that that concerns Clerks and Miniſters. The Place of Juſtice is an hallowed Place; and therefore not only the Bench, but the Foot-pace, and Precincts, and Purpriſe thereof ought to be preſerved without Scandal and Corruption. For certainly Grapes (as the Scripture ſaith) will not be gathered of Thorns or Thiſtles; neither can Juſtice yield her Fruit with Sweetneſs amongſt the Briars and Brambles of Catching and Poling Clerks and Miniſters. The Attendance of Courts is ſubject to four bad Inſtruments: Firſt, Certain Perſons that are ſowers of Suits which make the Court ſwell, and the Country pine. The ſecond ſort is, Of thoſe that engage Courts in Quarrels of Juriſdiction, and are not truly Amici Curiae, but Paraſiti Curiae, 〈◊〉 puffing a Court up beyond her bounds, for their own Scraps and Advantage. The third ſort is, Of thoſe that may be accounted the Left hands of Courts; Perſons that are full of nimble and finiſter tricks and ſhifts, whereby they pervert the plain and direct Courſes of Courts, and bring Juſtice into oblique Lines and Labyrinths. And the fourth is, the Poller and Exacter of Fees, which juſtifies the common reſemblance of the Courts of Justice to the Buſh, whereunto while the ſheep flies for Defence in Weather, he is ſure to loſe part of his Fleece. On the other ſide, an Ancient Clerk, skilful in Precedents, wary in proceeding, and underſtanding in the Buſineſs of the Court, is an excellent Finger of a Court, and doth many times point the way to the Judge himſelf.

Fourthly, For that which may concern the Soveraign and Eſtate. Judges ought above all to remember the concluſion of the Roman Twelve Tables, Salus Populi Suprema Lex; and to know, that Laws, except they be in order to that end, are but things captious, and Oracles not well inſpired. Therefore it is an happy thing in a State, when Kings and States do often conſult with Judges; and again, when Judges do often conſult with the King and State: The one, when there is a matter of Law intervenient in buſineſs of State; The other, when there is ſome conſideration of State intervenient in matter of Law. For many times the things deduced to Judgment may be Meum and Tuum, when the reaſon and conſequence thereof may Trench to point of Estate. I call matter of Eſtate not only the parts of Soveraignty, but whatſoever introduceth any great Alteration, or dangerous Precedent, or concerneth manifeſtly any great portion of People. And let no Man weakly conceive, that Juſt Laws and true Policy have any Antipathy: For they are like Spirits and Sinews, that one moves with the other. Let Judges alſo remember, That Solomon's Throne was ſupported by Lions on both ſides: Let them be Lions, but yet Lions under the Throne; being circumſpect, that the • do not check or oppoſe any points of Soveraignty. 〈◊〉 not Judges alſo be ſo ignorant of their own right, as to think there is not left to them, as a Principal part of their Office, a wiſe Uſe and Application of Laws; for they may remember what the Apoſtle ſaith of a greater Law than theirs, Nos ſcimus quia Lex bona eſt, modo quis ea utatur legitime.

LVII. Of Anger.

TO ſeek to extinguiſh Anger utterly, is but a bravery of the Stoicks. We have better Oracles: Be angry, but ſin not. Let not the Sun go down upon your anger. Anger muſt be limited and confined, both in Race and Time. We will firſt ſpeak, how the Natural Inclination and Habit to be angry, may be attempted and calmed. Secondly, How the particular motions of anger may be repreſſed, or at leaſt refrained from doing miſchief. Thirdly, How to raiſe anger, or appeaſe anger in another.

For the firſt: There is no other way but to Meditate and Ruminate well upon the effects of Anger, how it troubles Man's Life. And the beſt time to do this is, to look back upon Anger, when the fit is throughly over. Seneca ſaith well; That Anger is like Ruine, which breaks it ſelf upon that it falls. The Scripture exhorteth us, To poſſeſs our Souls in patience. Whoſoever is out of patience, is out of Poſſeſſion of his Soul. Men muſt not turn Bees;

—Animaſque in vulnere ponunt.

Anger is certainly a kind of Baſeneſs; as it appears •• ll in the Weakneſs of thoſe Subjects in whom it •• gns, Children, Women, Old Folks, Sick Folks. Only Men muſt beware, that they carry their Anger rather with Scorn, than with Fear: So that they may ſeem rather to be above the injury than below it, which is a thing eaſily done, if a Man will give Law to himſelf in it.

For the ſecond Point. The Cauſes and Motives of Anger are chiefly three: Firſt, to be too ſenſible of hurt: For no Man is Angry that feels not himſelf hurt; and therefore tender and delicate Perſons muſt needs be often Angry: They have ſo many things to trouble them, which more robuſt Natures have little ſence of. The next is, the Apprehenſion and Conſtruction of the Injury offered, to be in the circumſtances thereof, full of contempt. For contempt is that which putteth an edge upon Anger, as much or more than the hurt it ſelf: And therefore when Men are ingenious in picking out circumſtances of contempt, they do kindle their Anger much. Laſtly, Opinion of the touch of a Man's Reputation doth multiply and ſharpen Anger: Wherein the remedy is, that a Man ſhould have, as Gonſalvo was wont to ſay, Telam Honoris Craſſiorem. But in all refrainings of Anger, it is the beſt remedy to win Time, and to make a Man's ſelf believe that the Opportunity of his revenge is not yet come; but that he foreſees a time for it, and ſo to ſtill himſelf in the mean time, and reſerve it.

To contain Anger from Miſchief, though it take hold of a Man, there be two things, whereof you muſt have ſpecial Caution: The one, of extream bitterneſs of Words, eſpecially if they be Aculeate and Proper; for Communia Maledicta are nothing ſo much. And again, That in Anger a Man reveal no Secrets; for that makes him not fit for Society. The other, That you do not peremptorily break off in any buſineſs in a fit of Anger; but howſoever you ſhew bitterneſs, do not act any thing that is not revocable.

For raiſing and appeaſing Anger in another: It is do •• chiefly by chuſing of Times; when Men are frowardeſt and worſt diſpoſed, to incenſe them. Again, by gathering (as was touched before) all that you can find out to aggravate the contempt; and the two remedies are by the contraries: The former, to take good Times, when firſt to relate to a Man an angry buſineſs: For the firſt Impreſſion is much; and the other is, to ſever as much as may be the Conſtruction of the Injury from the Point of contempt; imputing it to Miſunderſtanding, Fear, Paſſion, or what you will.

LVIII. Of Viciſſitude of Things.

SOLOMON ſaith, There is no new thing upon the Earth. So that as Plato had an imagination, That all knowledge was but a remembrance: So Solomon giveth his ſentence, That all Novelty is but Oblivion: Whereby you may ſee, That the River of Lethe runneth as well above ground as below. There is an abſtruſe Aſtrologer that ſaith, If it were not for two things that are conſtant, (The one is, That the fixed Stars ever ſtand at like distance one from another, and never come nearer together, nor go further aſunder; the other, That the Diurnal Motion perpetually keepeth Time) no Individual would laſt one moment. Certain it is, That the matter is in a perpetual Flux, and never at a ſtay. The great Winding-Sheets that bury all things in Oblivion are two; Deluges and Earthquakes. As for Conflagrations and great, Droughts, they do not meerly diſpeople, but deſtroy. Phaeton's Car went but a Day: And the Three years Drought, in the time of Elias, was but particular, and left People alive. As for the great burnings by Light •• ngs, which are often in the West Indies, they are but • arrow. But in the other two Deſtructions, by Deluge and Earthquake, it is further to be noted, That the remnant of People which hap to be reſerved, are commonly ignorant and mountainous People, that can give no account of the time paſt; ſo that the Oblivion is all one, as if none had been left. If you conſider well of the People of the West-Indies, it is very probable, that they are a newer or younger People, than the People of the Old World. And it is much more likely, that the deſtruction that hath heretofore been there, was not by Earthquakes, (as the Egyptian Prieſt told Solon, concerning the Iſland of Atlantis, That it was ſwallowed by an Earthquake) but rather, it was Deſolated by a particular Deluge: For Earthquakes are ſeldom in thoſe parts. But on the other ſide, they have ſuch pouring Rivers, as the Rivers of Aſia, and Africk, and Europe, are but Brooks to them. Their Andes likewiſe, or Mountains, are far higher than thoſe with us; whereby it ſeems, that the Remnants of Generations of Men were in ſuch a particular Deluge ſaved. As for the obſervation that Michiavel hath, That the Jealouſie of Sects doth much extinguiſh the memory of things; traducing Gregory the Great, that he did what in him lay to extinguiſh all Heathen Antiquities. I do not find that thoſe Zeals do any great Effects, nor laſt long; as it appeared in the Succeſſion of Sabinian, who did revive the former Antiquities.

The Viciſſitude or Mutations in the Superior Globe, are no fit matter for this preſent Argument. It may be Plato's Great year, if the World ſhould laſt ſo long, would have ſome effect; not in renewing the State of like Individuals, (for that in the Fume of thoſe, that conceive the Coeleſtial Podies have more accurate Influences upon theſe things below, than indeed they have) but in Groſs. Cemets out of queſtion have likewiſe Power and Effect over the Groſs and Maſs of things: But they are rather gazed upon, and waite • upon in their Journey, than wiſely obſerved in the • Effects, eſpecially in their reſpective Effects; that 〈◊〉 ▪ What kind of Comet for Magnitude, Colour, Verſion of the Beams, placing in the Region of Heaven, or laſting, produceth what kind of effects.

There is a Toy which I have heard, and I would not have it given over, but waited upon a little. They ſay it is obſerved in the Low-Countreys, (I know not in what part) That every five and thirty Years, the ſame kind and ſuit of Years and Weathers comes about again, as great Froſts, great Wet, great Droughts, warm Winters, Summers with little Heat, and the like; and they call it the Prime. It is a thing I do rather mention, becauſe computing backwards, I have found ſome concurrence.

But to leave theſe points of Nature, and come to men. The greateſt Viciſſitude of things amongſt men, is, The Viciſſitude of Sects and Religions: For thoſe Orbs rule in mens minds moſt. The true Religion is built upon the Rock, the reſt are toſt upon the Waves of Time. To ſpeak therefore of the Cauſes of new Sects, and to give ſome Counſel concerning them, as far as the weakneſs of Humane Judgment can give ſtay to ſo great Revolutions.

When the Religion formerly received, is rent by Diſcords; and when the Holineſs of the Profeſſors of Religion is decayed, and full of Scandal, and withal the Times be Stupid, Ignorant, and Barbarous, you may doubt the ſpringing up of a new Sect, if then alſo there ſhould ariſe any extravagant and ſtrange Spirit to make himſelf Author thereof: All which points held, when Mahomet publiſhed his Law. If a new Sect have not two properties, fear it not; for it will not ſpread. The one is, The Supplanting or the Oppoſing of Authority eſtabliſhed: For nothing is more popular than that. The other is, The giving Licence to pleaſures and Voluptuous Life. For as for Speculative Hereſies, (ſuch as were in Ancient Times the 〈◊〉 , and now the Arminians) though they work mightily upon Mens Wits, yet they do not produce any great alteration in States, except it be by the help of Civil Occaſions. There be three manner of Plantations of new Sects, By the Power of Signs and Miracles, by the Eloquence and Wiſdom of Speech and Perſwaſion, and by the Sword; for Martyrdo • s, I reckon them amongſt Miracles, becauſe they ſeem to exceed the ſtrength of Humane Nature: And I may do the like of Superlative and Admirable Holineſs of Life. Surely there is no better way to ſtop the riſing of new Sects and Schiſms, than to reform abuſes, to compound the ſmaller differences, to proceed mildly, and not with Sanguinary perſecutions; and rather to take off the principal Authors by winning and advancing them, than to enrage them by violence and bitterneſs.

The Changes and Viciſſitude in Wars are many, but chiefly in three things: In the Seats or Stages of the War; in the Weapons, and in the manner of the Conduct. Wars in Ancient Time, ſeemed more to move from Eaſt to Weſt: For the Perſians, Aſſyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which are the Invaders) were all Eaſtern People. It is true, the Gauls were Weſtern, but we read but of two Incurſions of theirs, the one to Gallo-Graecia, the other to Rome. But Eaſt and Weſt have no certain Points of Heaven, and no more have the Wars, either from the Eaſt or Weſt any certainty of Obſervation. But North and South are fixed, and it hath ſeldom or never been ſeen, that the far Southern People have invaded the Northern, but contrariwiſe. Whereby it is manifeſt, that the Northern Tract of the World is in nature the more Martial Religion; be it in reſpect of the Stars of that Hemiſphere, or of the great Continents that are upon the North, whereas the South Part, for ought that is known, is almoſt all Sea; or (which is moſt apparent) of the Cold of the Northern Parts, which is that, which without Aid of Diſcipline doth make the bodies hardeſt, and the Co • rages warmeſt.

Upon the Breaking and Shivering of a great State and Empire, you may be ſure to have Wars. For great Empires, while they ſtand, do enervate and deſtroy the forces of the Natives which they have ſubdued, reſting upon their own Protecting forces; and then when they fail alſo, all goes to ruine, and they become a Prey. So was it in the decay of the Roman Empire; and likewiſe in the Empire of Almain, after Charles the Great, every Bird taking a Feather, and were not unlike to befall to Spain, if it ſhould break. The great Acceſſions and Unions of Kingdoms do likewiſe ſtir up Wars. For when a State grows to an Over-power, it is like a great flood that will be ſure to over-flow. As it hath been ſeen in the States of Rome, Turkie, Spain, and others. Look when the World hath feweſt Barbarous People, but ſuch as commonly will not marry or generate, except they know means to live; (as it is almoſt every where at this day, except Tartary) there is no danger of Inundations of People; but when there be great Shoals of People, which go on to populate without foreſeeing means of Life and Suſtentation, it is of neceſſity that once in an Age or two, they diſcharge a Portion of their People upon other Nations, which the ancient Northern People were wont to do by Lot, caſting Lot what part ſhould ſtay at home, and what ſhould ſeek their Fortunes. When a Warlike State grows ſoft and effeminate, they may be ſure of a War; for commonly ſuch States are grown rich in the time of their Degenerating, and ſo the Prey inviteth, and their decay in valour encourageth a War.

As for the Weapons, it hardly falleth under Rule and Obſervation; yet we ſee even they have Returns and Viciſſitudes. For certain it is, that Ordnance was known in the City of the Oxydrakes in India; and was that which the Macedonians called Thunder and Lightning, and Magick. And it was well known, that the uſe Ordnance hath been in China above 2000 Years. The conditions of Weapons, and their improvement are; Firſt, the fetching afar off; for that out-runs the danger, as it is ſeen in Ordnance and Muskets. Secondly, The ſtrength of the Percuſſion, wherein likewiſe Ordnance do exceed all Arietations, and ancient Inventions. The Third is, The commodious uſe of them; as that they may ſerve in all Weathers, that the Carriage may be light and manageable, and the like.

For the Conduct of the War; at the firſt Men reſted exreamly upon Number, they did put the Wars likewiſe upon main Force and Valour, pointing days for pitched Fields, and ſo trying it out upon an even match, and they were more ignorant in Ranging and Arraying their •• ttles. After they grew to reſt upon Number, rather Competent than Vaſt, they grew to advantages of Place, Cunning Diverſions, and the like; and they grew more skilful in the ordering of their Battles.

In the Youth of a State, Arms do flouriſh; in the middle Age of a State Learning, and then both of them together for a time: In the declining Age of a State, Mechanical Arts and Merchandize. Learning, hath his Infancy when it is but beginning, and almoſt Childiſh; then his Youth when it is Luxuriant and Juvenile; then his ſtrength of Years, when it is ſolid and reduced; and laſtly, his Old Age; when it waxed dry and exhauſt: But it is not good to look too long upon theſe turning Wheels of Viciſſitude, leſt we become giddy. As for the Philology of them, that is but a Circle of Tales, and therefore not fit for this Writing.

LIX. A Fragment of an Eſſay of Fame.

THE Poets make Fame a Monſter. They deſcrib • her in part finely and elegantly; and in pa •• gravely and ſententiouſly. They ſay, look how many Feathers ſhe hath, ſo many Eyes ſhe hath underneath; ſo many Tongues; ſo many Voices; ſhe pricks up ſo many Ears.

This is a flouriſh: There follow excellent Parables▪ as that ſhe gathereth ſtrength in going; that ſhe goeth upon the ground, and yet hideth her head in the Clouds. That in the day-time ſhe ſitteth in a Watch-Tower, and flieth moſt by Night: That ſhe mingleth things done, with things not done: And that ſhe 〈◊〉 a terror to great Cities: But that which paſſeth all the reſt is: they do recount that the Earth, Mother of the Gyants, that made War againſt Jupiter, and were by him deſtroyed, thereupon, in anger, brought forth Fame: For certain it is, that Rebels figured by the Gyants and Seditious Fames, and Libels, are but Brothers and Sisters; Maſculine and Feminine. But now if a Man can tame this Monſter, and bring her to feed at the hand, and govern her, and with her flie other ravening Fowl, and kill them, it is ſomewhat worth. But we are infected with the ſtile of the Poets. To ſpeak now in a ſad and ſerious manner: There is not in all the Politicks, a Place leſs handled, and more worthy to be handled, than this of Fame. We will therefore ſpeak of theſe points. What are falſe Fames; and what are true Fames; and how they may be beſt diſcerned; how Fames may be ſown and raiſed; how they may be ſpread and multiplied, and how they may be checked and laid dead: And other things concerning the Nature of Fame. Fame is of that force, as there is ſcarcely any great Action wherein it hath not a great part, eſpecially in the War. Mucianus undid Vitellius by a Fame that he ſcattered; that Vitellius had in purpoſe to remove the Legions of Syria into Germany: and the Legions of Germany into Syria: whereupon the Legions of Syria were infinitely inflamed. Julius Caeſar took Pompey unprovided, and laid aſleep his induſtry and preparations, by a Fame that he cunningly gave out, how Caeſar's own Soldiers loved him not; and being wearied with the Wars, and laden with the ſpoils of Gaul, would forſake him as ſoon as he came into Italy. Livia ſetled all things for the Succeſſ • on of her Son Tiberius, by continual giving out, that her Husband Augustus was upon recovery and amendment. And it is an uſual thing with Baſhaws, to conceal the Death of the great Turk from the Janizaries and Men of War, to ſave the Sacking of Conſtant •• ple, and other Towns, as their manner is. Themiſ •• cles made Xe • xes King of Perſia poſt apace out of Graecia, by giving out that the Graecians had a purpoſe to break his Bridge of Ships, which he had made athwart Helleſpont. There be a thouſand ſuch like Examples; and the more they are, the leſs they need to be repeated; becauſe a Man meeteth with them every where: Therefore, let all wiſe Governours have as great a watch and care over Fame, as they have of the Actions and deſigns themſelves.

The reſt was not finiſhed.

LX. A Civil Character of Julius Caeſar.

JULIUS CAESAR was partaker at firſt of an exerciſed Fortune; which turned to his benefit▪ For it abated the haughtineſs of his ſpirit, and whetted his Induſtry. He had a Mind, turbulent in his Deſires and Affections; but in his judgment and underſtanding very ſerene and placid: And this appears by his eaſie deliverances of himſelf, both in his Tranſactions and in his Speech. For no Man ever reſolved more ſwiftly, or ſpake more perſpicuouſly and plainly. There was nothing forced or difficult in his expreſſions. But in his will and appetite, he was of that Condition, that he never reſted in thoſe things he had gotten; but ſtill thirſted and purſued after new; yet ſo, that he would not ruſh into new Affairs raſhly, but ſettle and make an end of the former, before he attempted freſh Actions. So that he would put a ſeaſonable period to all his Undertakings. And therefore, though he won many Battles in Spain, and weakned their Forces by degrees; yet he would not give over, nor deſpiſe the Relicks of the Civil War there, till he had ſeen all things compoſed: But then aſſoon as that was done, and the State ſetled, inſtantly he advanced in his Expedition againſt the Parthians.

He was, no doubt, of a very noble Mind; but yet ſuch as aimed more at his particular Advancement, than at any Merits for the Common Good. For he referred all things to Himſelf; and was the true and perfect Centre of all his Actions. By which means, being ſo faſt tied to his Ends, he was ſtill proſperous, and prevailed in his Purpoſes; Inſomuch, that neither Country, nor Religion, nor good Turns done him, nor Kindred, nor Friendſhip diverted his Appetite, nor bridled him from purſuing his own Ends. Neither was he much inclined to works of Perpetuity: For he eſtabliſhed nothing for the future; He founded no ſumptuous Buildings; He procured to be enacted no wholſome Laws, but ſtill minded himſelf: And ſo his thoughts were confined within the Circle of his own Life. He ſought indeed after Fame and Reputation, becauſe he thought they might be profitable to his Deſigns: Otherwiſe, in his inward thoughts be propounded to himſelf rather Abſoluteneſs of Power, than Honour and Fame. For as for Honour and Fame, he purſued not after them for themſelves; but becauſe they were the Inſtruments of Power and Greatneſs. And therefore he was carried on through a Natural Inclination, not by any Rules that he had learned, to effect the ſole Regiment▪ and rather to enjoy the ſame than to ſeem worthy of it. And by this means he won much Reputation amongſt the People, who are no valuers of true Worth: But amongſt the Nobility and great Men, who were tender of their own Honours, it procured him no more than this, that he incurred the Brand of an Ambitious and Daring Man.

Neither did they much err from the Truth who thought him ſo; for he was by Nature exceeding bold; and never did put on any ſhew of Modeſty, except it were for ſome purpoſes. Yet notwithſtanding, he ſo attempted his Boldneſs, that it neither impeached him of Raſhneſs; nor was burthenſome to Men; nor rendred his Nature ſuſpected, but was conceived to flow out of an Innate Sincerity and freeneſs of Behaviour, and the Nobility of his Birth: And in all other things he paſſed, not for a Crafty and Deceitful Perſon, but for an open hearted and plain-dealing Man. And whereas he was indeed an Arch-Politician, that could counterfeit and diſſemble ſufficiently well; and was wholly compounded of Frauds and Deceits, ſo that there was nothing ſincere in him, but all artificial; yet he covered, and diſguiſed himſelf ſo, that no ſuch Vices, appeared to the Eyes of the World; but he was generally reputed to proceed plainly and uprightly with all Men. Howbeit, he did not ſtoop to any petty and mean Artifices, as they do, which are ignorant in State Employments; and depend not ſo much upon the ſtrength of their own Wits, as upon the Counſels and Brains of others, to ſupport their Authority; for he was skilled in the Turnings of all Humane Affairs; and tranſacted all Matters, eſpecially thoſe of high Conſequence by himſelf, and not by others.

He was ſingularly skilful to avoid Envy; and found it not impertinent to his Ends, to decline that, though it were with ſome diminution of his Dignity. For aiming at a Real Power, he was content to paſs by all vain Pomp and outward ſhews of Power throughout his whole Life; Till at the laſt, whether high-flown with the continual Exerciſe of Power, or corrupted with Flatteries, he affected the Enſigns of Power, (the Stile and Diad • m of a King,) which was the Bait that wrought his Overthrow.

This is true, that he harboured the thoughts of a Kingdom from his very youth: And hereunto the Example of Sylla, and the Kindred of Marius, and his Emulation of Pompey, and the Corruption and Ambition of the Times, did prick him forward: But then he paved his way to a Kingdom, after a wonderful and ſtrange manner. As firſt, by a Popular and Seditious Power; afterwards by a Military Power, and that of a General in War. For there was required to effect his Ends; Firſt, That he ſhould break the Power and Authority of the Senate; which, as long as it ſtood firm, was adverſe, and an hindrance, that no Man could climb to Soveraignty and Imperial Command. Then the Power of Craſſus and Pompey was to be ſubdued and quelled, which could not be done otherwiſe, than by Arms. And therefore (as the moſt Cunning Contriver of his own Fortune) he laid his firſt Foundation by Bribes; By corrupting the Courts of Juſtice, by renewing the memory of Caius Marius, and his party; For moſt of the Senators and Nobility were of Sylla's Faction: by the Law of diſtributing the Fields amongſt the Common People: by the Sedition of the Tribunes, where he was the Author: by the madneſs and fury of Catiline, and the Conſpirators, unto which Action he ſecretly blew the Goals! By the Baniſhment of Cicero, which was the greateſt Blow, to the Authority of the Senate, as might be; and ſeveral other the like Arts: But moſt of all by the Conjunction of Craſſus and Pompey, both betwixt themſelves, and with him; which was the thing that finiſhed the work.

Having accompliſht this part, he betook himſelf to the other; which was to make uſe of, and to enjoy his power. For being made Proconſul of France for five years; and afterwards continuing it for five years more; he furniſhed himſelf with Arms and Legions, and the power of a Warlike and Opulent Province; as was formidable to Italy.

Neither was he ignorant, that after he had ſtrengthned himſelf with Arms and a Military Power, neither Craſſus nor Pompey could ever be able to bear up againſt him; whereof the one truſted to his great Riches, the other to his Fame and Reputation; the one decayed through Age, the other in Power and Authority: And neither of them were grounded upon true and laſting Foundations. And the rather, for that he had obliged all the Senators and Magiſtrates: And in a word, all thoſe that had any power in the Common-wealth, ſo firmly to himſelf, with private benefits, that he was fearleſs of any Combination or Oppoſition againſt his Deſigns, till he had openly invaded the Imperial Power.

Which things, though he always bare in his Mind, and at the laſt acted it, yet he did not lay down his former perſon; but coloured things ſo, that what with the reaſonableneſs of his Demands, what with his pretences of Peace, and what with the moderate uſe of his Succeſſes, he turned all the Envy of the Adverſe Party, and ſeemed to take up Arms upon neceſſity for his own preſervation and ſafety. But the falſeneſs of this pretence manifeſtly appeared; inaſmuch as ſoon after having obtained the Regal Power, all Civil War being appeaſed, and all his Rivals and Oppoſites, which might put him to any fear, being removed out of the way by the ſtroke of Death; notwithſtanding he never thought of reſigning the Republick; no, nor ever made any ſhew or offer of reſigning the ſame. Which ſhewed plainly, that his ambition of being a King was ſetled in him, and remained with him unto his laſt breath. For he did not lay hold upon occaſions, as they hapned, but moulded and formed the occaſions, as himſelf pleaſed.

His chief Abilities conſiſted in Martial Knowledge; in which he ſo excelled, that he could not only lead an Army, but mould an Army to his own liking. For he was not more skilful in managing Affairs, than in winning of Hearts. Neither did he affect this by any ordinary Diſcipline, as by inuring them to fulfil all his commands; or by ſtriking a ſhame into them to diſobey, or by carrying a ſevere Hand over them: But by ſuch a way as did wonderfully ſtir up an alacrity and chearfulneſs in them: and did in a ſort aſſure him of the Victory aforehand, and which did oblige the Soldier to him, more than was fit for a Free Eſtate. Now whereas he was verſed in all kinds of Martial Knowledge, and joyned Civil Arts with the Arts of War; nothing came ſo ſuddenly, or ſo unlookt for upon him, for which he had not a remedy at hand: And nothing was ſo averſe, but that he could pick ſomething for his Turn and Benefit out of it.

He ſtood ſufficiently upon his State and Greatneſs. For in great Battels, he would ſit at home in the Head Quarter, and manage all Things by Meſſages, which wrought him a double benefit. Firſt, that it ſecured his Perſon more, and expoſed him the leſs to Danger. Secondly, that if at any time his Army was worſted, he could put new ſpirit into them with his own preſence, and the Addition of freſh Forces, and turn the Fortune of the Day. In the conducting of his Wars, he would not only follow former Precedents, but he was able to deviſe and purſue new Stratagems, according as the accidents and occaſions required.

He was conſtant, and ſingularly kind, and indulgent in his Friendſhips contracted. Notwithſtanding, he made choiſe of ſuch Friends, as a Man might eaſily ſee, that he choſe them rather to be Inſtruments to his Ends, than for any Good will towards them. And whereas, by Nature, and out of a firm Reſolution, he adhered to this Principle; not to be eminent amongſt Great and deſerving Men; but to be chief amongſt Inferiours and Vaſſals: he choſe only mean and active Men, and ſuch as to whom himſelf might be all in all. And hereupon grew that ſaying; So let Caeſar live, though I die; and other Speeches of that kind. As for the Nobility, and thoſe that were his Peers, he contracted Friendſhip, with ſuch of them as might be uſeful to him; and admitted none to his Cabinet Council, but thoſe that had their Fortunes wholly depending upon him.

He was moderately furniſhed with good Literature, and the Arts; But in ſuch ſort as he applied his skill therein to Civil Policy. For he was well read in Hiſtory: and was expert in Rhetorick, and the Art of ſpeaking. And becauſe he attributed much to his good Stars, he would pretend more than an ordinary Knowledge in Aſtronomy. As for Eloquence, and a prompt Elocution, that was Natural to him, and pure.

He was diſſolute, and propenſe to Voluptuouſneſs and Pleaſures; which ſerved well at firſt for a Cover to his Ambition. For no Man would imagine, that a Man ſo looſely given could harbour any Ambitious and Vaſt Thoughts in his Heart. Notwithſtanding, he ſo governed his Pleaſures, that they were no hindrance, either to his profit, or to his buſineſs: And they did rather whet, than dull the vigour of his Mind. He was Temperate at his Meals; free from Niceneſs and Curioſity in his Luſts; pleaſant and Magnificent at publick Interludes.

Thus being accompliſhed, the ſame thing was the Means of his down-fall at laſt; which in his Beginnings was a ſtep to his Riſe, I mean his Affectation of Popularity: For nothing is more popular, than to forgive our Enemies. Through which, either Vertue or Cunning, he loſt his Life.

LXI. A Civil Character of Auguſtus Caeſar.

AUGUSTUS CAESAR, (if ever any Mortal Man) was endued with a greatneſs of Mind, undiſturbed with Paſſions, clear and well ordered; which is evidenced by the High Atchievements which he performed in his early youth. For thoſe perſons which are of a turbulent Nature or Appetite, do commonly paſs their youth in many Errors; and about their middle, and then, and not before, they ſhew forth their Perfections; but thoſe that are of a ſedate and calm Nature, may be ripe for great and glorious Actions in their youth. And whereas the Faculties of the Mind, no leſs than the Parts and Members of the Body, do conſiſt and flouriſh in a good temper of Health, and Beauty, and Strength; So he was in the ſtrength of the Mind, inferior to his Unkle Julius; but in the Health and Beauty of the Mind, ſuperior. For Julius being of an unquiet and uncompoſed Spirit, (as thoſe, who are troubled with the Falling-Sickneſs for the moſt part are,) notwithſtanding he carried on his own ends with much Moderation and Diſcretion; but he did not order his ends well, propounding to himſelf, vaſt and high Deſigns, above the Reach of a Mortal Man. But Auguſtus, as a Man ſober, and mindful of his Mortality, ſeemed to propound no other ends to himſelf, than ſuch as were orderly and well weighed, and governed by Reaſon. For firſt he was deſirous indeed to have the Rule and Principality in his hands; then he ſought to appear worthy of that Power which he ſhould acquire: Next, to enjoy an High Place, he accounted but a Tranſitory Thing: Laſtly, He endeavoured to do ſuch Actions, as might continue his memory, and leave an Impreſſion of his good Government to After Ages. And therefore, in the beginning of his Age, he affected Power; in the middle of his Age, Honour, and Dignity; in the decline of his years, Eaſe and Pleaſure; and in the end of his Life, he was wholly bent to Memory and Poſterity.

CASSANDRA, or, Divination.

THE Poets Fable, That Apollo being enamoured of Caſſandra, was by her many ſhifts and cunning ſlights ſtill deluded in his Deſire; but yet fed on with hope, untill ſuch time as ſhe had drawn from him the Gift of Propheſying; and having by ſuch her Diſſimulation, in the end, attained to that which from the beginning ſhe ſought after; at laſt, flatly rejected his Suit. Who finding himſelf ſo far engaged in his Promiſe, as that he could not by any means revoke again his raſh Gift, and yet enſtamed with an earneſt deſire of Revenge, highly diſdaining to be made the ſcorn of a crafty Wench, annexed a Penalty to his Promiſe, viz. that ſhe ſhould over foretel the truth, but never be believed: So were her Divinations always faithful, but at no time regarded; whereof ſhe ſtill found the experience, yea, even in the ruine of her own Countrey, which ſhe had often forewarned them of; but they neither gave credit nor ear to her words. This Fable ſeems to intimate the unprofitable liberty of untimely admonitions and counſels: For they that are ſo over-weened with the ſharpneſs and dexterity of their own wit and capacity, as that they diſdain to ſubmit themſelves to the documents of Apollo, the God of Harmony, whereby to learn and obſerve the method and meaſure of affairs the grace and gravity of Diſcourſe, the differences between the more judicious and more vulgar Ears, and the due times when to ſpeak, and when to be ſilent; be they never ſo ſenſible, and pregnant, and their judgments never ſo profound, and profitable; yet in all their endeavours either of perſwaſion, or perforce, they avail nothing, neither are they of any moment to advantage or manage matters; but do rather haſten on the ruine of all thoſe that they adhere, or devote themſelves unto. And then at laſt, when calamity doth make men feel the event of neglect, then ſhall they too late be reverenced as deep, foreſeeing, and faithful Prophets. Whereof a notable inſtance is eminently ſet forth in Marcus Cato Utic • nſis, who, as from a watchtower, diſcovered afar of • , and, as an Oracle, long foretold the approaching ruine of his Country, and the plotted Tyranny hovering over the State, both in the firſt Conſpiracy, and as it was proſecuted in the Civil Contention between Caeſar and Pompey, and did no good the while, but rather harm • d the Commonwealth, and haſtned on his Countrey's bane; which M. Cicero wiſely obſerved, and writing to a familiar Friend, doth in theſe terms excellently deſcribe, Cato optime ſe • tit, ſed nocet interdum Reipublicae: Loquitur enim tanquam in Republicâ Platonis, nor tanquam in faece Romuli. Cato (ſaith he,) judgeth profoundly, but in the mean time damnifies the State; for he ſpeaks in the Commonwealth of Plato, and hot as in the Dregs of Romulus.

TYPHON, or a Rebel.

JUNO being vex'd (ſay the Poets) that Jupiter had begotten Pallas by himſelf without her, earneſtly preſſed all the other Gods and Goddeſſes that ſhe might alſo bring forth of her ſelf alone without him; and having by violence, and importunity obtained a grant thereof, ſhe ſmote the Earth, and forthwith ſprang up Typhon, a huge, and horrid Monſter: This ſtrange Birth ſhe commits to a Serpent, (as a Foſter-Father,) to nouriſh it; who no ſooner came to ripeneſs of years, but he provokes Jupiter to Battel: In the Conflict the Gyant getting the upper hand, takes Jupiter upon his ſhoulders, carries him into a remote, and obſcure Countrey, and (cutting out the ſinews of his Hands and Feet,) brought them away, and ſo left him miſerably mangled and maimed. But Mercury recovering theſe Nerves from Typhon by ſtealth, reſtored them again to Jupiter. Jupiter being again by this means corroborated, aſſaults the Monſter afreſh, and at the firſt ſtrikes him with a Thunder-bolt, from whoſe Blood Serpents were ingendred. This Monſter at length fainting, and flying, Jupiter caſts on him the Mount Aetna, and with the weight thereof cruſh'd him.

This Fable ſeems to point at the variable fortune of Princes, and the rebellious inſurrection of Traytors in a State: For Princes may well be ſaid to be married to their Dominions, as Jupiter was to Juno; but it happens now and then, that being deboſhed by the long cuſtom of empiring, and bending towards Tyranny, they endeavour to draw all to themſelves, and (contemning the Counſel of their Nobles and Senators) hatch Laws in their own Brain; that is, diſpoſe of things by their own fancy, and abſolute power. The people (repining at this) ſtudy how to create, and ſet up a Chief of their own choice. This Project by the ſecret inſtigation of the Peers, and Nobles, doth for the moſt part take his beginning; by whoſe connivence the Commons being ſet on edge, there follows a kind of murmuring, or diſcontent in the State, ſhadow'd by the Infancy of Typhon, which being nurs'd by the natural pravity, and clowniſh malignity of the vulgar ſort, (unto Princes, as infeſtuous as Serpents,) is again repaired by a renewed ſtrength, and at laſt breaks out into open Rebellion, which (becauſe it brings infinite miſchiefs upon Prince and People) is repreſented by the monſtrous deformity of Typhon: his hundred heads ſignifie their divided powers; his fiery mouths, their inflamed intents; his Serpentine Circles, their peſtilent Malice in beſieging; his Iron Hands, their mercileſs ſlaughters; his Eagles Talons, their greedy Rapines; his plumed Body, their continual Rumors, and Scouts, and Fears, and ſuch like; and ſometimes theſe Rebellions grow ſo potent, that Princes are inforced (tranſported as it were, by the Rebels, and forſaking the chief Seats and Cities of the Kingdom,) to contract their Power, and (being deprived of the Sinews of Money and Majeſty,) betake themſelves to ſome remote and obſcure corner within their Dominions: but in proceſs of time, (if they bear their Misfortunes with moderation,) they may recover their ſtrength, by the virtue and induſtry of Mercury; that is, they may (by becoming affable, and by reconciling the minds and wills of their Subjects with grave Edicts, and gracious Speech,) excite an Alacrity to grant Aids, and Subſidies, whereby to ſtrengthen their Authority anew. Nevertheleſs, having learned to be wiſe and wary, they will refrain to try the chance of Fortune by War, and yet ſtudy how to ſuppreſs the reputation of the Rebels by ſome famous Action, which if it fall out anſwerable to their expectation, the Rebels finding themſelves weakned, and fearing the ſucceſs of their broken Projects; betake themſelves to ſome ſlight, and vain Bravadoes, like the hiſſing of Serpents, and at length in deſpair betake themſelves to flight; and then when they begin to break, it is ſafe and timely for Kings to purſue, and oppreſs them with the Forces and Weight of the Kingdom, as it were with the Mountain Aetna.

The CYCLOPS, or the Miniſters of Terror.

THey ſay that the Cyclops, for their fierceneſs, and cruelty, were by Jupiter caſt into Hell, and there doomed to perpetual impriſonment; but Tellus perſwaded Jupiter that it would do well, if being ſet at liberty, they were put to forge Thunder-bolts, which being done accordingly, they became ſo painful and induſtrious, as that day and night they continued hammering out in laborious diligence Thunder-bolts, and other inſtruments of Terror. In proceſs of time Jupiter having conceived a Diſpleaſure againſt A ſculapius, the Son of Apollo, for reſtoring a dead Man to life by Phyſick; and concealing his diſlike, (becauſe there was no juſt cauſe of anger, the deed being pious and famous,) ſecretly incens'd the Cyclops againſt him, who without delay ſlew him with a Thunder-bolt. In revenge of which Act, Apollo (Jupiter not prohibiting it) ſhot them to Death with his Arrows.

This Fable may be applied to the Projects of Kings, who having cruel, bloody, and exacting Officers, do firſt puniſh and diſplace them; afterwards by the counſel of Tellus, that is, of ſome baſe, and ignoble Perſon, and by the prevailing reſpect of Profit, they admit them into their Places again, that they may have Inſtruments in a readineſs, if at any time there ſhould need either ſeverity of execution, or acerbity of exaction. Theſe ſervile Creatures being by nature cruel, and by their former fortune exaſperated, and perceiving well what is expected at their hands, do ſhew themſelves wonderful officious in ſuch kind of Employments; but being too raſh, and precipitate in ſeeking countenance, and creeping into favour, do ſometimes take occaſion from the ſecret Beckonings, and ambiguous Commands of their Prince, to perform ſome hateful execution. But Princes (abhorring the Fact, and knowing well, that they ſhall never want ſuch kind of Inſtruments,) do utterly forſake them, turning them over to the Friends and Allies of the wronged, to their Accuſations and Revenge, and to the general Hatred of the People; ſo that with great Applauſe, and proſperous Wiſhes and Acclamations towards the Prince, they are brought, rather too late, than undeſervedly, to a miſerable end.

NARCISSƲS, or, Self-Love.

THey ſay, that Narciſſus was exceeding fair and beautiful▪ but wonderful proud and diſdainful; wherefore deſpiſing all others in reſpect of himſelf, he leads a ſolitary Life in the Woods and Chaſes, with a few Followers, to whom he alone was all in all; amongſt the reſt, there follows him the Nymph Ech • . During his Courſe of Life, it fata • ly ſo chanced, that he came to a clear Fountain, upon the Bank whereof he lay down to repoſe himſelf in the heat of the Day. And having eſpied the ſhadow of his own Face in the Water, was ſo beſotted, and raviſhed with the con •• mplation and admiration thereof, that he by no mea • s poſſible could be drawn from beholding his Image in this Glaſs; inſomuch, that by continua • gazing thereupon, he • in • d away to nothing, and was at laſt turned into a F • ower of his own Name, which appears in the beginning of the Spring, and is ſacred to the infernal Powers, Pluto, Pr • ſ •• pin • , and the Furi • s.

This Fable ſeems to ſhew the Diſpoſitions, and Fortunes of thoſe, who in reſpect either of their Beauty, or other Gift wherewith they are adorned, and graced by Nature, without the help of induſtry, are ſo far beſotted in themſelves, as that they prove the cauſe of their own deſtruction. For it is the property of Men infected with this Humour, not to come much abroad, or to be converſant in Civil Affairs, ſpecially ſeeing thoſe that are in pub • ick Place, muſt of neceſſity encounter with many Contempts, and Scorns, which may much deject, and trouble their Minds; and therefore they lead for the moſt part a ſolitary, private, and obſcure Life, attended on with a few Followers, and thoſe, ſuch as will adore, and admire them, like an Echo flatter them in all their Sayings, and applaud them in all their Words. So that being by this Cuſtom ſeduced, and puft up, and as it were, ſtupified with the admiration of themſelves, they are poſſeſſed with ſo ſtrange a Sloth add Idleneſs, that they grow in a manner benumb'd, and defective of all vigour and alacrity. Elegantly doth this Flower, appearing in the beginning of the Spring, repreſent the likeneſs of theſe Men's Diſpoſitions, who, in their youth do flouriſh, and wax famous; but being come to ripeneſs of years, they deceive and fruſtrate the good hope that is conceived of them. Neither is it impertinent that this Flower is ſaid to be conſecrated to the infernal Deities, becauſe Men of this diſpoſition become unprofitable to all humane things: For whatſoever produceth no Fruit of it ſelf, but paſſeth▪ and vaniſheth as if it had never been, (like the way of a Ship in the Sea,) that the Ancients were wont to dedicate to the Ghoſts, and Powers below.

STYX, or Leagues.

THE Oath by which the Gods were wont to oblige themſelves, (when they meant to ratifie any thing ſo firmly as never to revoke it,) is a thing well known to the Vulgar, as being mentioned almoſt in every Fable, which was when they did not invoke or call to witneſs any Celeſtial Majeſty, or Divine Power, but only the River Styx, that with crooked and Meandry Turnings incircleth the Palace of the infernal Dis. This was held as the only manner of their Sacrament; and beſides it, not any other Vow to be accounted firm, and inviolable; and therefore the puniſhment to be inflicted, (if any did perjure themſelves,) was, that for certain years they ſhould be put out of Commons, and not to be admitted to the Table of the Gods.

This Fable ſeems to point at the Leagues and Pacts of Princes, of which, more truly, than opportunely, may be ſaid, That be they never ſo ſtrongly confirmed with the Solemnity and Religion of an Oath, yet are for the moſt part, of no validity; inſomuch that they are made rather with an Eye to Reputation, and Report, and Ceremony, than to Faith, Security, and Effect. Moreover, add to theſe the Bond of Affinity, as the Sacraments of Nature, and mutual Deſerts of each Part, and you ſhall obſerve, that with a great many, all theſe things are placed a degree under Ambition and Profit, and the licentious deſire of Domination; and ſo much the rather, becauſe it is an eaſie thing for Princes to defend and cover their unlawful Deſires and unfaithful Vows, with many outwardly ſeeming fair Pretexts, eſpecially ſeeing there is no Umpire or Moderator of Matters concluded upon to whom a Reaſon ſhould be tendred. Therefore there is no true and proper thing made choice of, for the confirmation of Faith, and that no celeſtial Power neither, but is indeed Neceſſity, (a great God to great Potentates,) the Peril alſo of State, and the Communication of Profit. As for Neceſſity, it is elegantly repreſented by Styx, that fatal and irremeable River; and this Godhead did Iphicrates, the Athenian, call to the Confirmation of a League; who becauſe he alone is found to ſpeak plainly that which many hide covertly in their Breaſts, it would not be amiſs to relate his words. He obſerving how the Lacedaemonians had thought upon, and propounded divers Cautions, Sanctions, Confirmations and Bonds, pertaining to Leagues, interpoſed thus: Unum Lacedaemonii, nobis vobiſcum v ••• ulum & ſecuritatis ratio eſſe p • ſſit; ſi plane demonſtretis, vos ea nobis conc • ſſiſſe, & inter manus poſuiſſe, ut vobis fa ultas lae lendi nos, ſi maxime velletis, minime ſuppetere p • ſſ •• . There is one thing (O Lacedaemonians) that would link us unto you in the Bond of Amity, and be the occaſion of Peace and Secu • ity; which is, if you would plainly demon • t • ate, that you have yielded up and put into our hands ſuch things as that, would you 〈◊〉 us never ſo fain, you ſhould yet be disfurni • hed of means to do it. If therefore the power of hurting be taken away, or if by breach of League there follow the danger of the ruine or diminution of the State or Tribute; then indeed the Leagues may ſeem to be ratified and eſtabliſhed, and as it were confirmed by the Sacrament of the Stygian Lake; ſeeing that it includes the fear of Prohibition and Suſpenſion from the Table of the Gods, unger which name the Laws and Prerogatives, the Plenty and Felicity of a Kingdom were ſignified by the Ancients.

PAN, or Nature.

THE Ancients have exquiſitely deſcribed Nature under the Perſon of Pan, whoſe original they leave doubtful; for ſome ſay that he was the Son of Mercury, others attribute unto him a far different beginning, affirming him to be the common Off-ſpring of Penelope's Suitors, upon a ſuſpicion, that every one of them had to do with her; which latter relation doubtleſs gave occaſion to ſome after-Writers to entitle this ancient Fable with the name of Penelope, a thing very frequent amongſt them, when they apply old Fictions to young perſons and names, and that many times abſurdly and indiſcreetly, as may be ſeen here: For Pan being one of the Ancient Gods, was long before the time of Ulyſſ • s and P • nelope. Beſides (for her Matronal Chaſtity) ſhe was held venerable by Antiquity. Neither may we pretermit the third conceit of his Birth: For ſome ſay, That he was the Son of Jupiter and Hybris which ſignifies contumely or diſdain. But howſoever begotten, the Parcae (they ſay) were his Siſters. He is pourtrayed by the Ancients in this guiſe; on his Head a pair of Horns to reach to Heaven, his Body rough and Hairy, his Beard long and ſhaggy, his ſhape biformed, above like a Man, below like a Beaſt, his Feet like Goat's-hoofs, bearing theſe Enſigns of his Juriſdiction, to wit, in his left-hand a Pipe of ſeven Reeds, and in his right a Sheep-hook, or a Staff crooked at the upper end, and his Mantle made of a Leopard's Skin. His Dignities and Offices were theſe: He was the God of Hunters, of Shepherds, and of all Rural Inhabitants: chief Preſident alſo of Hills and Mountains, and next to Mercury, the Embaſſador of the Gods. Moreover, He was accounted the Leader and Commander of the Nymphs, which were always wont to dance the rounds, and frisk about him; he was accoſted by the Satyrs and the old Sileni. He had power alſo to ſtrike Men with terrors, and thoſe eſpecially vain and ſuperſtitious, which are termed Panick fears. His acts were not many, for ought that can be found in Records, the chiefeſt was, that he challenged Cupid at wreſtling, in which conflict he had the ſoil. The Tale goes too, how that he caught the Gyant Typhon in a Net, and held him faſt. Moreover, where Ceres (grumbling and chaſing that Proſerpina was raviſhed) had hid her ſelf away, and that all the Gods took pains (by diſperſing themſelves into every corner) to find her out, it was only his good hap (as he was hunting) to light on her, and acquaint the reſt where ſhe was. He preſumed alſo to put it to the tryal who was the beſt Muſician, he or Apollo, and by the judgment of Midas was indeed preferred: But the wiſe Judge had a pair of Aſſes Ears privately chopt to his Noddle for his ſentence. Of his Love-tricks, there is nothing reported, or at leaſt not much, a thing to be wondred at, eſpecially being among a Troop of Gods ſo profuſely amorous. This only is ſaid of him, that he loved the Nymph Ec •• (whom he took to Wife) and one pretty Wench more called Syrinx, towards whom Cupid (in an angry and revengeful humour, becauſe ſo audaciouſly he had challenged him at Wreſtling) inflamed his deſ • re Moreover, he had no Iſſue (which is a marvel alſo, ſeeing the Gods, eſpecially thoſe of the Male kind, were very generative) only he was the reputed Father of a little Girl called Jambe, that with many pretty Tales was wont to make ſtrangers merry; but ſome think that he did indeed beget her by his Wife Jambe. This (if any be) is a noble Tale, as being laid out and big-bellied with the Secrets and Myſteries of Nature.

Pan (as his name imports) repreſents and lays open the All of Things or Nature. Concerning his original there are two only Opinions that go for currant; for either he came of Mercury, that is, the Word of God, which the Holy Scriptures without all controverſie affirm, and ſuch of the Philoſophers as had any ſmack of Divinity aſſented unto; or elſe from the confuſed Seeds of things. For they that would have one ſimple beginning, refer it unto God; or if a materiate beginning, they would have it various in power. So that we may end the Controverſie with this Diſtribution, That the World took beginning, either from Mercury, or from the Seeds of all things.

Virg. Eclog. 6. Namque canebat uti magnum per inane coacta Semina terrarumque, animaeque, mariſque fuiſſent, Et liquidi ſimul ignis: Et his exordia primis Omnia, & ipſe tener mundi concreverit Orbis. For rich-vein'd Orpheus ſweetly did rehearſe How that the Seeds of Fire, Air, Water, Earth, Were all pact in the vaſt void Univerſe: And how from theſe as Firſtlings, all bad birth, And how the Body of this Orbick frame, From tender infancy ſo big became.

But, as touching the third conceit of Pan's Original, it ſeems that the Graecians (either by intercourſe with the Aegyptians, or one way or other) had heard ſomething of the Hebrew Myſteries; for it points to the ſtate of the World, not conſidered in immediate Creation, but after the fall of Adam, expoſed and made ſubject to Death and Corruption: For in that ſtate it was (and remains to this day) the Off-ſpring of God and Sin. And therefore all theſe Three Narrations concerning the manner of Pan's birth may ſeem to be true, if it be rightly diſtinguiſhed between Things and Times. For this Pan or Nature (which we ſuſpect, contemplate and reverence more than is fit) took beginning from the Word of God by the means of confuſed matter, and the entrance of Prevarication and Corruption. The deſtinies may well be thought the Siſters of Pan or Nature, becauſe the beginnings and continuances, and corruptions and depreſſions, and diſſolutions, and eminences, and labours and felicities of things, and all the chances which can happen unto any thing, are linkt with the Chain of Cauſes natural.

Horns are attributed unto him, becauſe Horns are broad at the root and ſharp at the ends, the nature of all things being like a Pyramis, ſharp at the top. For individual or ſingular things being infinite are firſt collected into ſpecies, which are many alſo; then from ſpecies into generals, and from generals (by aſcending) are contracted into things or notions more general; ſo that at length Nature may ſeem to be contracted into an unity. Neither is it to be wondred at, that Pan toucheth Heaven with his Horns, ſeeing the height of Nature or univerſal Ideas do, in ſome ſort, pertain to things Divine, and there is a ready and ſhort Paſſage from Metaphyſick to natural Theology.

The Body of Nature is elegantly and with deep judgment depainted hairy, repreſenting the beams or operations of creatures; for beams are as it were the Hairs and Briſtles of Nature, and every creature is either more or leſs beamy, which is moſt apparent in the faculty of ſeeing, and no leſs in every vertue and operation that effectuates upon a diſtant Object, for whatſoever works upon any thing afar off, that may rightly be ſaid to dart forth Rays or Beams.

Moreover, Pan's Beard is ſaid to be exceeding long, becauſe the beams or influences of Coeleſtial Bodies do operate and pierce fartheſt of all; and the Sun, when (his higher half is ſhadowed with a Cloud) his Beams break out in the lower, and looks as if he were bearded.

Nature is alſo excellently ſet forth with a biformed Body, with reſpect to the differences between ſuperior and inferior Creatures. For one part, by reaſon of their Pulcritude, and equability of motion, and conſtancy and dominion over the Earth and earthly things, is worthily ſet out by the ſhape of Man: and the other part in reſpect of their perturbations and unconſtant motions, (and therefore needing to be moderated by the Coeleſtial) may be well fitted with the Figure of a Brute Beaſt. This Deſcription of his Body pertains alſo to the participation of Species, for no natural being ſeems to be ſimple, but as it were participated and compounded of two. As for example, Man hath ſomething of a Beaſt, a Beaſt ſomething of a Plant, a Plant ſomething of inanimate Body, of that all natural things are in very deed biformed, that is to ſay, compounded of a ſuperior and inferior Species.

It is a very witty Allegory, that ſame of the Feet of the Goat, by reaſon of the upward tending motion of Terreſtrial Bodies towards the Air and Heaven, for the Goat is a climbing Creature, that loves to be hanging about the Rocks and ſteep Mountains; and this is done alſo in a wonderful manner, even by thoſe thing which are deſtinated to this inferior Globe, as may manifeſtly appear in Clouds and Meteors.

The two Enſigns which Pan bears in his hands do point, the one at Harmony, the other at Empire: For the Pipe conſiſting of ſeven Reeds, doth evidently demonſtrate the conſent, and Harmony, and diſcordant concord of all inferior Creatures, which is cauſed by the Motion of the ſeven Planets: And that of the Sheep-hook may be excellently apply'd to the order of nature, which is partly right, partly crooked: This Staff therefore or Rod is ſpecially crooked in the upper end, becauſe all the works of Divine Providence in the World are done in a far fetcht and circular manner, ſo that one thing may ſeem to be affected and yet indeed a clean contrary brought to paſs; as the ſelling of Joſeph into Aegypt, and the like. Beſides in all wiſe Humane Government, they that ſit at the Helm do more happily bring their purpoſes about, and inſinuate more eaſily into the minds of the People, by pretexts and oblique courſes, than by direct methods: ſo that all Scepters and Maſſes of Authority ought in very deed to be crooked in the upper end.

Pan's Cloak or Mantle is ingeniouſly feigned to be a Skin of a Leopard, becauſe it is full of Spots: So the Heavens are ſpotted with Stars, the Sea with Rocks and Iſlands, the Land with Flowers, and every particular Creature alſo is for the moſt part garniſhed with divers colours about the ſuperficies, which is as it were a Mantle unto it.

The Office of Pan can be by nothing ſo lively conceived and expreſt, as by feigning him to be the God of Hunters, for every natural action, and ſo by conſequence, Motion and Progreſſion, is nothing elſe but a Hunting. Arts and Sciences have their works, and Humane Counſels their ends which they earneſtly hunt after. All natural things have either their Food as a Prey, or their Pleaſure as a Recreation which they ſeek for, and that in moſt expert and ſagacious manner.

Torva Leaena Lupum ſequitur, Lupus ipſe Capellam. Florentem Cytiſum ſequitur laſciva Capella. The hungry Lioneſs, (with ſharp deſire) Purſues the Wolf, the Wolf the wanton Goat: The Goat again doth greedily aſpire To have the trifoil Juyce paſs down her Throat.

Pan is alſo ſaid to be the God of the Country. Clowns, becauſe Men of this condition lead lives more agreeable unto Nature, than thoſe that live in the Cities and Courts of Princes, where nature by too much Art is corrupted: So as the ſaying of the Poet (though in the ſenſe of Love) might be here verified:

Pars minima eſt ipſa puella ſui. The Maid ſo trickt her ſelf with Art, That of her ſelf ſhe is leaſt part:

He was held to be Lord Preſident of the Mountains, becauſe in the high Mountains and Hills, Nature lays her ſelf moſt open, and Men moſt apt to view and contemplation.

Whereas Pan is ſaid to be (next unto Mercury) the Meſſenger of the Gods, there is in that a Divine Myſtery contained, for next to the Word of God, the Image of the world proclaims the Power and Wiſdom Divine, as ſings the Sacred Poet, Pſal. xix. 1. Coeli enarrant gloriam Dei, atque opera manuum ejus indicat firmamentum▪ The Heavens declare the glory of God, and the Firmament ſheweth the Works of his Hands.

The Nymphs, that is, the Souls of living things take great delight in Pan. For theſe Souls are the delights or minions of Nature, and the direction or conduct of theſe Nymphs is with great reaſon attributed unto Pan, becauſe the Souls of all things living do follow their natural diſpoſitions as their guides, and with infinite variety every one of them after his own faſhion, doth leap, and frisk and dance with inceſſant motions about her. The Satyrs and Sileni alſo, to wit, Youth and Old-age, are ſome of Pan's followers: For of all natural things, there is a lively, jocund, and (as I may ſay) a dancing age, and an age again that is dull, bibling and reeling. The carriages and diſpoſitions of both which ages, to ſome ſuch as Democritus was, (that would obſerve them duly,) might peradventure ſeem as ridiculous and deformed, as the gambols of the Satyrs, or the geſtures of the Sileni.

Of thoſe fears and terrors which Pan is ſaid to be the Author, there may be this wiſe conſtruction made: Namely, that Nature hath bred in every living thing a kind of care and fear, tending to the preſervation of its own life and being, and to the repelling and ſhunning of all things hurtful. And yet Nature knows not how to keep a mean, but always intermixes vain and empty fears with ſuch as are diſcreet and profitable: So that all things (if their inſides might be ſeen) would appear full of Panick frights: But men eſpecially in hard, fearful, and diverſe times, are wonderfully infatuated with ſuperſtition, which indeed is nothing elſe but a Panick terror.

Concerning the audacity of Pan in challenging Cupid at wreſtling: The meaning of it is, that Matter wants not inclination and deſire to the relapſing and diſſolution of the World into the old Chaos, if her malice and violence were not reſtrained and kept in order, by the prepotent unity and agreement of things ſignified by Cupid, or the God of Love; and therefore it was • happy turn for Men, and all things elſe, that in their conflict Pan was found too weak, and overcome.

To the ſame effect may be interpreted his catching of Typhon in a Net: For howſoever there may ſometimes happen vaſt and unwonted Tumours (as the name of Typhon imports) either in the Sea, or in the Air, or in the Earth, or elſewhere; yet Nature d • th intangle it in an intricate toil, and curb and reſtrain in, as it were with a Chain of Adamant, the exceſſes and inſolencies of theſe kind of Bodies.

But foraſmuch as it was Pan's good fortune to find out Ceres as he was Hunting, and thought little of it, which none of the other Gods could do, though they did nothing elſe but ſeek her, and that very ſeriouſly; it gives us this true and grave admonition, That we expect not to receive things neceſſary for life and manners from Philoſophical Abſtractions, as from the greater Gods; albeit they applied themſelves to no other ſtudy, but from Pan; that is, from the diſcreet obſervation and experience, and the univerſal knowledge of the things of this World; whereby (oftentimes even by chance, and as it were going a Hunting) ſuch Inventions are lighted upon.

The quarrel he made with Apollo about Muſick, and the event thereof contains a wholſome inſtruction, which may ſerve to reſtrain men's Reaſons and Judgments with Reins of Sobriety, from boaſting and glorying in their gifts. For there ſeems to be a twofold Harmony, or Muſick; the one of Divine Providence, and the other of Humane Judgment, the Adminiſtration of the World and Creatures therein, and the more ſecret Judgments of God, ſound very hard and harſh; which folly, albeit it be well ſet out with Aſſes Ears; yet notwithſtanding theſe Ears are ſecret, and do no • openly appear, neither is it perceived or noted as a deformity by the vulgar.

Laſtly, It is not to be wondred at, that there is nothing attributed unto Pan concerning Loves, but only of his marriage with Echo: For the World or Nature doth enjoy it ſelf, and in it ſelf all things elſe. Now he that loves would enjoy ſomething, but where there is enough, there is no place left to deſire. Therefore there can be no wanting love in Pan, or the World, nor deſire to obtain any thing (ſeeing he is contented with himſelf) but only Speeches, which (if plain) may be intimated by the Nymph Echo, or if more quaint by Syrinx. It is an excellent invention that Pan, or the World is ſaid to make choice of Echo only (above all other Speeches or Voices) for his Wife: For that alone is true Philoſophy, which doth faithfully render the very words of the World; and it is written no otherwiſe than the World doth dictate, it being nothing elſe but the Image or reflection of it, not adding any thing of its own, but only iterates and reſounds. It belongs alſo to the ſufficiency or perfection of the World, that he begets no Iſſue; for the World doth generate in reſpect of its parts, but in reſpect of the whole, how can it generate, ſeeing without it there is no Body? Notwithſtanding all this, the Tale of that tatling Girl fathered upon Pan, may in very deed, with great Reaſon, be added to this Fable: For by her are repreſented thoſe vain and Idle Paradoxes concerning the Nature of things which have been frequent in all Ages, and have filled the World with Novelties; Fruitleſs, if you reſpect the matter; Changlings if you reſpect the kind, ſometimes creating Pleaſure, ſometimes tediouſneſs with their overmuch pratling.

PERSEƲS, or War.

PERSEUS is ſaid to have been employed by Pallas, for the deſtroying of Meduſa, who was very infeſtuous to the Weſtern Parts of the World, and eſpecially about the utmoſt Coaſts of Hiberia. A Monſter ſo dire and horrid, that by her only aſpect ſhe turned Men into Stones. This Meduſa alone of all the Gorgons was mortal, the reſt not ſubject to Death. Perſeus therefore preparing himſelf for this noble enterpriſe, had Arms and Gifts beſtowed on him by three of the Gods: Mercury gave him Wings annexed to his Heels, Pluto a Helmet, Pallas a Shield and a Looking-Glaſs. Notwithſtanding (although he were thus furniſhed) he went not directly to Meduſa, but firſt to the Greae, which by the Mothers ſide were Siſters to the Gorgons. Theſe Greae from their Birth were Hoar-headed, reſembling old Women. They had but one only Eye, and one Tooth among them all; both which, ſhe that had occaſion to go abroad, was wont to take with her, and at her return to lay them down again. This Eye and Tooth they lent to Perſeus; and ſo finding himſ • lf throughly furniſhed for the effecting of his deſign, haſtens towards Meduſa. He • he found ſleeping, and yet durſt not preſent himſelf with his Face towards her, leſt ſhe ſhould awake; but turning his head aſide, beheld her in Pallas's Glaſs, and (by this means directing his blow) cut off her head; from whoſe Blood guſhing out, inſtantly came Pegaſus, the Plying-Horſe. Her head thus ſmote off, Perſ •• s beſtows on Pallas her Shield, which yet retained this vertue, that whatſoever looked upon it, ſhould become as ſtupid as a Stone, or like one Planet-ſtrucken.

This Fable ſeems to direct the preparation and order, that is to be uſed in making of War; for the more apt and conſiderate undertaking whereof, three grave and wholeſome Precepts (ſavouring of the wiſdom of Pallas) are to be obſerved.

Firſt, That men do not much trouble themſelves about the Conqueſt of Neighbour Nations, ſeeing that private poſſeſſions and Empires are enlarged by different means: For in the augmentation of private Revenues, the vicinity of mens Territories is to be conſidered; but in the propagation of Publick Dominions, the occaſion and facility of making War, and the Fruit to be expected ought to be inſtead of vicinity. Certainly the Romans, what time their Conqueſts towards the Weſt ſcarce reacht beyond Liguria, did yet in the Eaſt bring all the Provinces as far as the Mountain Taurus within the compaſs of their Arms and Command; and therefore Perſeus, although he were bred and born in the Eaſt, did not yet refuſe to undertake an expedition even to the uttermoſt bounds of the Weſt.

Secondly, There muſt be a care had that the Motives of War be juſt and honourable, for that begets an alacrity, as well in the Soldiers that fight, as in the people that pay, it draws on and procures Aids, and brings many other Commodities beſides. But there is no pretence to take up Arms more pious, than the ſuppreſſing of Tyranny; under which yoke, the people loſe their courage, and are caſt down without heart and vigor, as in the ſight of Meduſa.

Thirdly, It is wiſe • y added, that ſeeing there were three Gorgons (by which Wars are repreſented) Perſeus undertook her only that was mortal; that is, he made choice of ſuch a kind of War as was likely to be effected and brought to a period, not purſuing vaſt and endleſs hopes.

The furniſhing of Perſeus with neceſſaries was that which only advanced his attempt, and drew Fortune to be of his ſide; for he had ſpeed from Mercury, concealing of his Counſels from Orcus, and Providence from Pallas.

Neither is it without an Allegory, and that full of matter too, that thoſe Wings of Celerity were faſtned to Perſeus his Heels, and not to his Ankles, to his Feet, and not to his Shoulders; becauſe ſpeed and celerity is required, not ſo much in the firſt preparations for War, as in thoſe things which ſecond and yield aid to the firſt; for there is no Error in War more frequent, than that Proſecutions and Subſidiary forces do fail to anſwer the alacrity of the firſt onſets.

Now for that Helmet which Pluto gave him, powerful to make men inviſible, the Moral is plain; but that twofold gift of Providence (to wit, the Shield and Looking Glaſs) is full of Morality; for that kind of Providence, which like a Shield avoids the force of blows, is not alone needful, but that alſo by which the ſtrength and motions, and Counſels of the Enemy are deſcryed, as in the Looking Glaſs of Pallas.

But Perſ • us, albeit he were ſufficiently furniſhed with aid and courage, yet was he to do one thing of ſpecial importance before he entred the Liſts with this Monſter, and that was to have ſome intelligence with the Greae. Theſe Greae are Treaſons which may be termed the Siſters of War not deſcended of the ſame ſtock, but far unlike in Nobility of Birth; for Wars are generous and heroical, but Treaſons are baſe and ignoble. Their deſcription is elegant, for they are ſaid to be Gray-headed, and like old Women from their Birth; by reaſon that Traytors are continually vext with cares and trepidations. But all their ſtrength (before they break out into open Rebellions) conſiſts either in an Eye or in a Tooth; for every faction alienated from any State, contemplates and bites. Beſides, this Eye and Tooth is as it were common; for whatſoever they can learn and know, is delivered and carried from one to another by the hands of Faction. And as concerning the Tooth, they do all bite alike, and ſing the ſame ſong; ſo that hear one, and you hear all. Perſeus therefore was to deal with theſe Greae for the love of their Eye and Tooth. Their Eye to diſcover, their Tooth to ſow rumors and ſtir up envy, and to moleſt and trouble the Minds of men. Theſe things therefore being thus diſpoſed and prepared, he addreſſes himſelf to the Action of War, and ſets upon Meduſa as ſhe ſlept; for a wiſe Captain will ever aſſault his Enemy, when he is unprepared and moſt ſecure; and then is there good uſe of Pallas her Glaſs: For moſt men, before it come to the puſh, can acutely pry into and diſcern their Enemies eſtate; but the beſt uſe of this Glaſs is in the very point of danger, that the manner of it may be ſo conſidered, as that the terror may not diſcourage, which is ſignified by that looking into this Glaſs with the face turned from Meduſa.

The Monſter's Head being cut off, there follow two effects. The firſt was, the procreation and raiſing of Pegaſus, by which may be evidently underſtood Fame, that (flying thorough the World) proclaims Victory. The ſecond is the bearing of Meduſa's Head in his Shield; to which there is no kind of defence for excellency comparable; for the one famous and memorable act proſperouſly effected and brought to paſs, doth reſtrain the Motions and Inſolencies of Enemies, and makes Envy her ſelf ſilent and amazed.