LOgick pretends to fur­nish lame reason with Crutches, to Vamp Pigmey-Reason, and set it upon Stilts, to accom­modate blear-eyed, & dimsight­ted reason, with Spectacles, and like a skillfull translator set rea­sons Shoo upright, wheresoe­ver it treads awry: and therefore is called the Science's Hand­mayd, that pins on the Gorgers of their Definitions, and sets the stiffe Ruffs of their peremp­tory Axioms; And so makes the Muses (the Daughters of Iupiter) look like grave Ma­trons, or rather Aldermens Wives.

The true reason our Mercu­riall and Courtly gallants so [Page 2] much despise them. Where as if this Antick dresse, severe gravity, and starcht face, were laid aside; And they either ap­pear'd in the Naked beauty of the Graces, or apparreld by the more skillful tire-woman, Rhetorick, in the princely or­naments of Oratory, they might look as beautifull as Madam Poetry, and be as much Courted as Romances, the wits beloved Dalilahs.

An Logica sit necessaria ad alias artes acquirendas? Aff.
DISC. 2.

HAd not mans Intellect been lam'd and cripl'd by its Fall in Paradise, it might with ease have waded through the most intricate difficulties of hu­mane Sciences, and travelled the roughest paths of know­ledge, [Page 3] without supporting its quick and nimble reason with the woodden Crutches of Lo­gick. The Roads of Science had bin free from all fallacious am­bushes, and therefore no danger of Truth's being surprised by a cut-throat band of Sophisms. Nor needed the Intellect doubt its being lost or wilder'd in the intricate Labyrinth of the most subtle Arts, having the bright & splendid Sun of Reason to di­rect it; A surer guide than the Moon-shine Light of Logick. But ever since Mother Eve for­feited the Charter of her Rea­son for an Apple, which her sim­plicity (in suffering her-self to be out-witted by the Serpent) had dyed with a vermilion blush; I say, ever since the ser­pent tript up the heeles of Mo­ther Eves Reason; Mans In­tellect can scarce with safety [Page 4] lanch forth into the Ocean of Science, to traffick for the Ori­ent-Pearls of truth; lest through the Piracy of Fallacyes (with which the Coasts of all Arts are now infested) it be rob'd of its fraught, or betray'd into the Barbarous hands of Non-sense.

De 10. Praedicamentis: of the ten Categories or Predicaments.
DISC. 3.

THe ten Praedicaments are the ten Drawers of Natures Cabinet, where­in are layd up all her treasure. They contain an exact Invento­ry of the worlds housholdstuffe. Or are the 10. Tribes into which Philosophers have distri­buted the whole off-spring of Nature: as Romulus, in Romes Infancy, did the Romans. Of which, Substance may be call'd [Page 5] the Elder house, or first-borne of Beings. From whence all the Classes of Accidents like younger families receive the Pensions of their Beings, and live in ne­cessary Dependance: As if by Nature produc'd for no other end, than the Ornament, pomp, and luster of their Elder Brother Substance.

De Universali.
DISC. 4.

THat which our Conjurers the Schoolmen call Uni­versale, is nothing but a Meteor or Notion, exhal'd from particular Objects, and by the Rayes of the Intellect carried into the Region of the Brain. Every Universal deck­ing & adorning it self with such jewels of Truth it hath rob'd and plunder'd from many Par­ticulars. [Page 6] Like the Jay in the Fable not having one feather of its own, wherewith to hide its nakednesse. And should it be call'd to an exact account, and be compell'd to make a full restitution, it must necessarily be devested of all being, & dwindle into a non-Entity; yet what a stirre doth this Gull make upon the stage of Learning and know­ledge: this strumpet Fallacy having painted it-self with the fucus of truth, being made the very basis and foundation of all Science; which, should any one desire thorowly to understand, and strictly embrace in the armes of his knowledge, he shall find it nothing but a con­densed body of ayre, that de­luded the sight of his under­standing. But were the Maske (under which it hath so long cheated the world) taken off, [Page 7] we should see it no other than the similitude or resemblance that is between Beings. Or a Picture drawn in the minde, by which the Intellect (as the Country-man by the thief's picture shewn him in the Con­jurers glasse) makes discovery of the things it hath in Quest o [...] Pursuit.

De 5. Praedicabili. Of Common Accidents.
DISC. 5.

THe last and lowest form of the 5. Praedicables; con­taines the Rout of com­mon Accidents; which, being altogether Aliens and strang­ers to the essence of their sub­jects, are said adesse & abesse sine subjecti interitu; as if Ac­cidents like Cyphers added no­thing to the sum of any Entities [Page 8] essential worth or dignity. But being mixt with essences (like chips in Pottage) no way alter the nature of their Subjects: And therefore saith the Pro­verb, A man's a man, tho but a hose on's head; and Reynard is but Reynard the Fox, though commenc'd Priest, or stept into a Fryers Cowle. Should any thing, with the Bird in the Fa­ble, deck and adorne it self with the plumes of many & various Accidents; yet shall it no more change its species, than the Asse, in the Lions skin, was trans­formed to a Lion.

For, the variation of Accidents is no Metamorphosis of Natures. The crow's a crow, whether in a black Coat as here in En­gland or a white as travellers re­port him in other Countryes. The fucus therefore, or varnish of accidents ads no more to the in­trinsecall [Page 9] worth of any Essence than a scarlet Coat to the wor­ship of my Lords Ape. The ruine of no essence is portended by the retreat of accidents, as the fall of an Old Fabrick by the departure of its vermine: nor its life suffocated by the approach of the most malignant as a candle is reported, by the presence of an evil spirit: nay should all thie troops & cohorts of natures acc­dents muster all their forces to­gether they were not able to ex­pugn or captivate the least and most inconsiderable Essence: and therefore it is not without cause Philosophers permit not acci­dents to suffragat in the court of essences, for shold they by the po­pular breath of giddy fancyes be voyc'd into the saddle of authori­ty, they would act no more in the Common-wealth of Entities, than Bibulus in his Roman Con­sulship; [Page 10] or the Log's mild Maj­esty, Iupiter made Emperour of the Froggian Territories: yea were the Alantick burden of essen­tial differences supported by no greater strength than the pygmy shoulders of common Acci­dents we might justly ex­pect a ruit Coelum to the whole fabrick of Sciences. I confesse some Accidents, as those our Philosophers terme insepa­rable, may like old friends hardly be seperated from the strict em­braces of their essences: or like the shirt Deianeira sent Hercules cleave so fast unto the skin of their subjects, as not to be put off without devesting them of their actuall existencies; but its impossible they should ever be incorporated or matriculated in­to the family of the Essence.

An Accidens migrat de subjecto in subjectum? Neg.
DISC. 6.

ACcidents, like Aristotles Intelligences, are strict­ly confined to the Orbs of their peculiar Subjects, from which it is as capital to budge a foot, as heretofore for a Roman slave to run from his Master. We may well grant, they are no Straglers or great travellers, seeing they were never beyond the Island of their Subjects. The snail (like a Pedlar with his pack at his back) travells no farther than he can carry his house: And an accident no farther than his Subject pleaseth to transport it. Most friends, like leaves of trees, desert their Companions in the winter of adversity. But Accidents, like [Page 12] true Trojans, accompany their subjects through thick and thin, through all weathers and for­tunes; the Ivy is not truer to the Oke, the Vine to the Elme, nor the handmaid-shadow to the body it waits upon, than the Accident to its subject, which as it was the Cradle of its in­fancy, is also the Urne of its ashes; as the womb that gave it birth, so the tomb and sepul­cher that receives it after death: and indeed should it once start from that subject it hath once espous'd, it would ne­cessarily drop into the gulfe of Nullity, or like a bough divi­ded from its tree, strait wither into a non-Entity; as having thereby forfeited the Charter of its being.

De Syllogismis:
DISC. 7.

Syllogisms are the Fetters and Shackles of Reason, where the Plea of the Argument can­not be heard for the Jangling of Ergoes. I love to see reason (the Queen and Empresse of the lesser world) triumph in the starely Chariot of a rich simili­tude, and not carted, or led Captive in a Rumbling Wheel­barrow by a Rout or band of barbarous▪ Termes. As if no­thing look'd like reverend truth, that is not drest in Aristotle's Ruffe, that doth nor dance in Moode and Figure, or proceed from the Tripod of a Syllogism. But without doubt the ratling of Ergoes, contributes no more help to labouring, and almost baffled reason, than the Irish [Page 14] Kettles to the Moon under an Eclipse.

Of Disputations.
DISC. 8.

DIsputations are sayd to ex­amine truth by the touch­stone of Reason; or to be the wind, by w ^ch truth is winnowed from the Chaffe of Errour. But I doubt with as ill successe; as when the maid having much dirt and lime fallen into her meal, heaved it against the wind. I have seldome known any that filling the sails of their reason with the wind of disputation, could ever arrive at the terra incognita of any new discovery. And I could assoon beleeve the dropping of Solane geese from Ashen keyes in Scot­land, as that the producti­ons [Page 15] of truth, like the horses of the Sun, or Spanish gennets, are begotten by the wind of words; and therefore should think truth rather lost than found in the Cloud and dust of a wran­gling Disputation.

De Fallaciis.
DISC. 9.

THe Doctrine of Fallacies, is, the Art of Jugling truth out of Reasons poc­ket by playing Hocus Pocus with the Understanding. Its pro­fessors are call'd Sophisters, a generation of Mountebanks, skillfull in nothing but in cast­ing mists before the eyes of the Intellect; and by a sleight of perverse arguing to trip up the heeles of Truth. They have learn'd of Ops, the cunning wife of old Saturne, to obtrude [Page 16] the pebble of falslhood (lapt in the swadling-clours of a Syllo­gism) for the Iupiter or legiti­mate off-spring of divine Rea­son. Or, imitating our Coyners, set the Regall stamp of Sove­raigne truth, on the false and counterfeit coyne of Error. That which first hatcht this im­posture was the facility that is found in most men to be decei­ved, who like Ixion embrace a cloud instead of Iuno, or our Countrymen, that if they see a Sophism (which is truths Ape in a scarlet Coat) are ready to blesse his Worship, and take it for the learned Pallas that issued from the Braine of Iupi­piter.

De Physicâ
DISC. 1.

NAturall Philosophy brings man acquain­ted with his Stepmo­ther Nature, and the whole family of her Beings, by the skilfull displaying their se­verall Essences, the true badges and Cognizances of the worth and eminency of each Ranck, Order, or Corporation in the Republick of the world: and here the Physiologist, like a skillfull Herald, blazons the natures of things according to [Page 18] their severall dignities either by the various Colours & Metals of Accidents, or the precious stones of vertues and effects, or the Celestiall Planets of their di­vine influences. Now of all Phi­losophy that which is ground­ed on experience, may justly bear away the palme, as being not the Chimaeraes or off-spring of mens Phansies, but the reall confession of dying nature, tor­tured on the wrack of some Chymicall experiment. But whensoever sullain Natures Pearle of knowledge, like that of the Toad, may not other­waies be obtained; rather let her bowells, like the womb of Cae­sars Mother, be ripped up, than that the least truth should miscarry, or not be born into the world, & so perhaps the Ana­tomists knife may perform what the Alchymists limbeck could [Page 19] not accomplish. But as for those that are willing to herd with the common rout of Philoso­phers, must expect no richer banquet than that of the foxes in the fable, ( i. e.) instead of feasting their Intellects with the Viands of Knowledge, to lick the outside of Natures glasse. For since humane industry hath as yet discovered but two Keyes ( sc.) Chymistry and Anatomy, that can unlock the Cabinet of natures secrets, he that will neither go to the charge of the one, nor the trou­ble of the other, is like to en­rich his understanding with but few jewells of Philosophicall truth.

De Materia prima.
DISC. 2.

THe first matter being Na­tures table-book whenso­ever the Characters of any form, either through the injury of cor­roding time, or some malignant Quality, are become so slurred, or blotted as to be no longer legible; Its natures Custome, with the spunge Philosophers terme Corruption, to blot it out of her Register, and with the pensill of Generation to place some other figure in its Room. Therefore Corruption is but as it were the whiting of the table, and generation the Drawing a new Picture; or if we may bor­row a simile from the stage, I should call it the re-apparelling the first matter, for acting a new part on Natures Theater. [Page 21] Therefore the Metempsycho­sis; or rather transmigration, that Pythagoras gave to souls, may be granted the Materia pri­ma, without an Allegory; see­ing it hath by Natures doome ever since the Creation been running the gantlet of Forms, and suffering the Martyrdome of perpetual corruptions, which through custome being now be­come a second nature, it hath as naturall an inclination to the embracing of new Forms, as heavy things to be receiv'd into the bosome of their Center: and therefore not without cause have Philosophers term'd it the grand strumpet, or harlot; the fire of whose lust is un­quenchable, and streames of whose desires are alwayes ty­ding towards new objects, ever loathing her old Mates, and [Page 22] thirsting after new embraces, in coveting whereof she is so impetuous, that nature could never knit her in so fast a Gor­dian knot to any form though of highest perfections, that was not in short time deserted and widdowed by the levity and un­chastity of her fickle humour. For she is more unconstant than the wind, more fickle than female levity, more slippery than an Eele, harder to be fix'd than the Alchymists Mer­cury, more difficult to be re­tayn'd, than the Devil to be exorcis'd or charm'd into a cir­cle. She changeth her self into more shapes, than the Rain­bow decks it self with colours, her whole work is to act the fa­bles of Ovids Metamorphosis, and is of skill in transforma­tions able to baffle Proteus, to [Page 23] whom the Poet hath given this Character, ‘Omnia transformat sese in mi­racula rerum.’

De Formis.
DISC. 3.

IF there be any jewel or pearle of knowledge, which nature may seem to have en­vyed man the enjoyment, I should think, it were the right understanding of Forms, which above all other things may just­ly be say'd to transcend the Ze­nith of the most raised Capaci­ty, and to be plac'd in a terra incognita, to the best travel'd of humane understandings: the spring or head of the famous ri­ver Nile is not couch'd in a den­ser cloud of uncertainty and ob­scurity, than that in which the [Page 24] original of forms is invell oped &c concealed, concerning w ^ch there is as great contention amongst Philosophers; as heretofore be­tween the seven Cities, that strove for the honour of Homers Birth. Some according to the Platonick fiction of the ration­all soul, do antedate the Existen­cy of all forms, with this on­ly diffierence, that whereas the Platonist assignes Caelestiall mansions, these quarter them with the materia prima, as if the first matter, like the primitive, rude, and confused Chaos, did actually containe all those vari­ous and different forms, with which nature hath interwoven & checkerd the worlds drapery: & therefore that Generation is but the discovery producing or bring­ing into play, some new forme that had hitherto hid & conceald it self, in some obscure cell or [Page 25] remote corner of its matter; and by consequence that cor­ruption is the form's retiring and withdrawing it self from the stages view, having had its Exit and finish'd the part of nature's Fable that was assign'd unto it.

There are others, who though they hold the praeexi­stency of forms, are more mo­dest then the former, therefore correct the harshnesse of actuall praeexistency with the leane tearms of an incompleate and imperfect act; as if the infant-plants of forms were in the first matter as in a common Nurse­ry, radically and seminally con­tained, that is to say, that na­ture, on the first matter, as in her table Book, had rudely drawn the first lineaments or outward strokes of all forms, which are in time to be per­fected [Page 26] and compleated by the more accurate pencill of gene­ration. These fancyes, however ingenious they may seem, be­come a Poet rather than a Phi­losopher. If we consult the Pe­ripatetick, he will obtrude, as Iupiter did by Ixion, a cloud of Aenigmaticall words, instead of the Iuno we desire to embrace; or cast a mist of insignificant terms before the eyes of the intellect, instead of giving us a view of the naked truth, telling us, how that all forms lye dormant in the lap or bosome of the first matter, or are treasured up in the womb of it potentiâ, whence, by the powerfull influence and charms of naturall generation they are awakened and conju­red up, and again buri­ed and entombed by the dissolving power of Cor­ruption. A late writer, that [Page 27] hath dip'd his pen in this Con­troversie, finding the Gordian knot of this difficulty indisso­luble, resolv'd rather with Her­culean courage to cut it, than suffer it any longer to crucify and baffle the weaknesse of hu­mane Intellects; and therefore expunging and crossing out of natures Register all materiall forms, proscrib'd them the Common-wealth of Beings; and substituted in their stead Accidents, as being of lesse ni­cery, and greater freedom, in giving an account of their Originalls.

According to w ^ch Philosohpy, Generation should be nothing but the re-attiring of the first Matter with a new livery, or sute of Accidents, when nei­ther Farriers nor Physitians (who are broken-natures Bodgers) can any longer patch up the [Page 28] Rents of the old garment; or otherwise we may terme it the new coyning, in Natures mint, such rusty pieces, as through the injury of all-de­vouring time, or some malig­nant quality, have lost their primitive stamp or impression. I was at the first view so pleas'd with this my Countryman Pemble's opinion, that I had not only subscrib'd, but sung an Io Triumphe thereto, had I not met with Windeline, who in his admirable treatise of Phy­sick, with no lesse modesty then probability of truth hath delivered his opinion, that not only those primitive and first­borne forms (with which na­ture in the morning of time and worlds infancy set up house­keeping) but al o all others of latter date, are indebted to Creation as the Cause of their Existencies.

De Monstris.
DISC. 4.

MOnsters are the Errata's of natures printing-presse, which commonly happen through the misspelling or misplacing the Letters of some externall forme, but no more obstruct the legiblenesse of the worlds beauty and perfection, than a literall fault the sense of a well-pen'd sentence. If deep shaddows, and dark co­lours give the greatest grace to a well-limn'd picture; for cer­tain, natures landskip had been but rudely drawn, were not the bright and orient colours of more perfect forms, shaddow­ed with the deep lines of mon­strous productions. Were Apel­les to draw a beautiful Nymph to the best advantage, he would [Page 30] place her bya rough and mis­shapen Satyr. And our Ladies, who are best skil'd in setting off beauty with the greatest advan­tage, think black spots rather contribute luster, than Eclipse the Sun of their beauties: and on the same account had rather a Blacke-moore, or an Ape should grace their pictures by an Antiperistasis, than that their shaddow should be out­shin'd by the splendor of a Brighter Complexion; count­ing two beauties in one table no lesse Monstrous, than two Suns in onefirmament. Syncopes, Epen­these's with the rest of our Gram­marian's figures, were never counted false Orthography: nor may we, without great blasphe­my to reason, think nature the worse scribe, for contracting or abbreviating forms in Pigmies, or writing in the Capitall Let­ters [Page 31] of Gygantine Statures; since the one as well as the other is of ornament to the worlds Iliads.

I. Of a Covetous man.

A Covetous man, is one that never wor­ship'd Iupiter, ex­cept descending in a showre of Gold; the Forme in which he sometime courted Danae. He thinks no smell so pleasant as that of Gaine, though like the sordid Empe­rours vectigal it arise from uri­nalls; and therefore spreads his Canvas to no wind that brings not in some profit. Had his fin­gers that Chymicall vertue, [Page 33] our Poets report of long-ear'd Midas, he would wish a Fa­thom larger then the Zodiack, that he might at once grasp the Universe, and by the Alchi­my of a touch, convert it to a globe of Gold. The life of his soul is the true Heliotrope to the Sun of his fortunes, springing and withering with the day of his prosperity, the whole source of his desires▪ do as naturally tide after riches, as the needle of the compasse turns Northwards. Nor with­out cause; there being as great a sympathy between his foul and Silver, as Iron and the load­stone. No Philosophy can perswade him that a greeny glasse is better for the eye sight, than white and yellow money. And his Divinity informes him that a vision of Iacobus's or yellow Angels, is better [Page 34] than, those on Iacobs Ladder. Finally, his god is his Gold which he worships in the tem­ple of his heart, and is as care­ful to secure as the Romans their tutelar Deityes they chayn'd to their temples; or the Iews, Christs Sepulcher. For, like Rachel he more fears the stealing of his god, then the Pharisees did our Saviour's re­surrection.

2. Of Love.

LOve is a burning feavour of the heart, generated by a surfeit on ease and luxury; or a fire that preys on the soul, as the Eagle is layd to do on Pro­metheus' s liver. The balls of this wild-fire are usually thrown in at the Casements of the eyes. By whose treachery the Citadell of the heart is be­tray'd [Page 35] to the most merciless of Tyrants, which is well hinted by our Poets, who make Cupid the feigned god of this frantick passion, to levell his shafts at the eyes, when he intends to smite the heart, wherefore they that would not sacrifice all the joyes of their lives in the flames of this Ignis fatuus; that would not shipwrack their felicity on the dangerous rock of this Passi­on, that would not have Cupids Trophies erected on their mar­tyred hearts; let them place a faithfull guard at the gates of their Eyes, that may take se­curity of all objects they ad­mit to trafficke with their souls, especially those that are beautifull. For the splen­dent Rayes of beauty being collected by an amorous eye, do as naturally kindle the flames of love in the heart, as [Page 36] the beames of the Sun, gather­ed in a burning-glasse, fire pa­per.

They are our eyes, that being captivated with the beauty of objects, as the silly Roman maid with the Gaul's Bracelets, that betrayes the Capitoll into the Enemies hands.

3. Of a Melancholy Man.

A Melancholy man is like Death in the pot, to all amongst whom he converses, car­rying a Countenance more so­lemn, than an Anatomy lecture, or sermon of mortality. He may almost without a Metaphor be termed, A walking herse, a Deaths head, or a Skeleton of bones; he hath even anticipa­ted Death, and praevented. [Page 37] destiny, by making his body the Coffin of his Soul.

He is one, that by beholding every thing, through the false glasse of his magnifying Fancy, is cog'd into as ridiculous a be­lief, as that of Don Quixot, who supposed windmills, Gy­ants; Papermils, Enchanted Castles; and the bearded Goats of Wales, formidable Spaniards with great muschadoes. At the sound of a Sow-gelders horne, he prepares for an in­counter, supposing himselfe challenged to a duel by the great Gyant Aldeberoni Fusco Foni. If fortune be-friend him in a dark night with vulcan in a lant­horne, he relates wonders, how he hath been led about pools by Will-a-Wisp, or Robin good-fellow. Every night pre­sents him either in a dream or vision, with a new scene of blew [Page 38] spiders, Bugbears, Ghosts, Hobgoblings, ratling chaines, raw heads and bloody bones, sprights, Devils, Haggs, Night­mares, and Witches, by which he is so terrifyed, that his hair standing an end, and pushing off his nightcap, he sweares the next morning, it was pull'd away by a dead-mans hand, and therefore the room's haun­ted, without all peradventure: by these apparitions his counte­nance grows so pale and ghast­ly, that if he chance to see his image in the water, he runs away, thinking the Devil would have pulld him into the River, or that his Genius like that of Brutus gave him a summons to make his appearance at Plutoes Court.

The surfeit of which con­ceits, with the help of an hempen string, gives his frigh­ted [Page 39] soul an Exit from off the stage of his Body.

4. Of Passion.

PAssion, having put out the eyes of reason, as the Phi­listins did Sampson's, exposes the wisest of men to the scorn & ludibrium of the world. This is that rash Phaeton, which if it ascend the Chariot of the understanding, and have the reins of the souls Go­verment committed unto it, nothing can be expected, but the ruine of the microcosme: Never did any poor, benighted understanding rejoyce in the false light, or commit it self to the guidance of this ignis fatu­us, that was not bemired in the bogs of errour and indiscretion. Moderate anger may be of some use for whetting the blunted [Page 40] edge of the souls motions, and oyling the Wheels of action? But he that screws up the peggs of his passion, beyond the E [...]a of reason, will sing to as sorry a tune as that of the jangling Chimes of Carflax.

5. Of a Physitian.

A Physitian is commonly said to be the Son of Apol­lo, but I should rather think of Prometheus: in whose art though he be not so good a pro­ficient, as to make; yet he can vamp, and as it were new tran­slate, the bodyes of men: and therefore may without injury be called the bodger or patch­er up of old, decay'd, and bro­ken nature. For which end he consults much the pispot-Alma­nacks, [Page 41] or urinalls; by which, as in a learned Kalender, he disco­vers the good, or ill weather, that shall happen in the Micro­cosme, or Ile of Man: And if providence once crown his endeavours with successe; so that, like a skillful Midwife, he give his patients a safe delivery of the disease, wherewith they were brought to bed: he streight thinks, he hath can­cell'd the decrees of fate, and renew'd the leases of his pa­tients life, in spight of the three Sisters. And will thence­forth undertake to make good the souls title to the ruin'd cot­tage of her body, against the plea of death, and irrevocable doome of destiny. Thinking his art able not only to reprieve poor mortalls from the arrest of death, but to give check to Iupiter himself; and is there­fore [Page 42] accounted of the Country-people, a little God-Almighty here upon earth; to whom they supplicate for Galenicall au­xiliaries whensoever the Oeco­nomy of their bodies is disturb­ed, for reducing all rebellious, and seditious humors, to their pristine harmonies, and due allegiance. And this intitles him to as great credit amongst women, as ghostly fathers; and opens a door of as free saccesse to Ladyes beds, as to the Priest or confessor. To conclude, he is of that kind of animals that thrive best in the worst aire and like vermine lives on the soars and putrefactions of corrupted nature.

6. Of a Foole or Naturall.

A Foole is an animal, the Organs and Pipes of whose body, like a sorry instrument, being miserably out of tune, his soul cannot play those sweet notes, and lofty straines of rea­son, that in better tun'd bodyes she useth to do and therefore he is sayd to have reason only in the seed or root, which shoots not forth, till death hath bro­ken up the tough clods of his body; and his soul be tran­planted to a soyle govern'd by better influences, than any earth receives. Or in brief, he is one whom nature never suf­fer'd to take his discretion into his own hands, and therefore the law trusts not with the management of his own estate.

7. Of an Hypocrite.

AN Hypocrite walkes in a bright could of seeming sanctity, like the Devil in a bo­dy of condens'd aire; or is one that brightens and irradiates the whole course of his life, with the splendent beames of a glorious profession; but such as dart not from the Sun of righte­ousnesse, arisen in his heart: but rather like the Meteor, Phi­losophers call ignis lambens, that usually adheres to horses manes, being no other than an extrinsecall and borrowed lustre.

He weares Religion, as a cloke for the palliating of bad actions, and therefore no won­der he cuts and shapes it accor­ding to the mode and fashion of [Page 45] the age and times he lives in: which if p [...]r [...]han [...]e they wax hot with the scorching flames of a fiery persecution he will judge the heavy robe of Religion, not only a cumbersome, but a needlesse and uncongruous gar­ment for so hot a season. And therefore thinks them in the highest classe of folly, that suf­fer their religion to prove their winding sheets; or like the shirt Deianira sent Hercules, cleave so close unto them as not to be put off without sacrificing their lives to the mercilesse flames of devouring fire. He esteemes it an admirable deco­rum to sprinkle bad actions with holy-water, to say a long grace before a breakfast of wid­dows houses: but, so to espouse any religion, as not to admit of a divorce when the Magi­strates authority legitmates the [Page 46] act, he reckons not only the height of folly, but also peevish perversnesse.

8. Of Books.

BOoks (though but paper-books) are often fraught with the richest treasure of wis­dome, and knowledge: for they are daughters of the intel­lect, or the true off-spring of the spirituall soul, as it were, embodyed and made corporate; And therefore may justly chal­lenge as great a share, and in­terest in the stock of our affecti­ons, as the naturall off-spring of our bodies. As being, not only the productions of our more Noble part, the soul: But also stampt with the more Noble Characters of our per­fections, and bearing a grea­ter resemblance of our true [Page 47] selves then any Child of the outward lineaments of his pa­rents. Now the most masculine intellectuall births are usually produc'd neither in the morn­ing or infancy of our dayes, the Sun of Reason having not then broke through the mists and fogs of ignorance, that com­monly attends the souls first a­rising in the horizon of flesh. Nor also in the evening of old age, seeing the day of mans life, most commonly sets in a cloud of Dotage. But rather at the full Noon of manhood, when the Rational Soul, that is the Sun of the Microcosme, hath climb'd the Zenith, or meridi­an, and with the fruitfull rayes of Reason hath compress'd the Intellect. Then if ever is the time for Pallas to issue from the Braine of Iupiter. The Books of the deceased are as it were [Page 48] the Shrines or Temples of their Souls, where they vouchsafe a kind of residence, and give forth their oracles, after they have quitted the mansion-hou­ses of their bodies. Here we may ask counsell of the dead with­out going to the Witch of En­dor, or being inshrined within the Circle of a Conjurer; by the help of Books, we may set our Pigmy-Reasons on the Gy­gantine shoulders of the Anti­ents, and so see farther than Antiquity, and shoot nigher the Goal of Truth than all prae­cedent ages. But to the study of Books, is not amisse to joyn the Reading of men. It being of greater concernment for the prudent stearing the course of our lives, to understand the Ge­nius of the age we live in, than to be acquainted with the mind of Aristotle or Plato.

Of Ministers and Magi­strates.

THe Ministry and Ma­gistracy, like Castor and Pollux, portend great tranquillity and happinesse to that Common wealth, where they shine toge­ther in equall and mutual splen­dor: But, if divided, the un­luckly omen of an approaching storme, or unwellcome har­binger of inevitable ruine. The Romans were as carefull in maintaining their Vestall fire, as preserving the Palladium, Counting that, no lesse than this, a pledge of their Empires durance and felicity. For cer­tain, it is not the Palladium or shield of the wisest States-mans [Page 50] wisdome, or Policy, that is able to protect, or give a long life to Empire, or Govern­ment, where the holy fire of Religion is extinguished, which will quickly ensue where the Ministry is discouraged, who like the order of Vesta's Priestshood, should blow up the Coles of Devotion, and main­taine the sacred fire of zeal on the Altars of the peoples hearts. Magistrates and Ministers are the Planets by whose influen­ces, and superintendency, God hath appointed the elementary and inferiour Bodies of Repub­licks to be govern'd and direct­ed; and that Common-Wealth is blind to her own interest, that doth not tender them as the Apples of her eyes. For to speak truth they are in the body poli­tick, what the great luminaries in the universe; the very light [Page 51] and eyes of the world, of which could the one without the other be put out (as some have fondly imagined) it must needs render the body politick as monstrous and prodigious, as that of our Poets one-eyed Poly­phemus; But since these twins of light kindl at each others flames, and can neither be extinguish'd without the other, nothing can be expected from Eclisping the Sun of eithers authority, but a sad night of ignorance and confusion. To conclude, that Common-wealth cannot ex­pect to hear the sweet melody, or be ravish'd with the Musick of the Sphaers motions, where the Orbs of Civill governments are not moved by these Intelligen­ces. The Ministers, therefore, and States-men are under God the two pillars that bear up the Arke of Government; and they [Page 52] that indeavour the subversion of either (whatever may be pretended) would open a door to Anarchy and confusion.

1. De Anno Platonico.

PLato tells us, that after the revolution of a certain mo­tion, by Philosophers term'd, motus trepipationis, Nature will again spin ore the thread of her old productions, and put forth a new impression of the Worlds Iliads; as if her whole businesse were but the setting forth of one Comedy, though consisting of many Acts and Parts, of which every Age presents a new scene, and every Generation produces new Actors, untill the Catastrophe of the whole, and that the Fa­ble [Page 53] be again begun: which though a Chimaera, may yet teach us, how it matters not whom we represent in the Fa­ble of this life, whether a King or Peasant; so we do it with a grace; there being as much art required for the skillful per­sonating a Clown, Corydon, or Fool; as an Emperour, Cour­tier, or Philosopher. What ever person therefore nature hath allotted us in the scene of our generation, we ought so to act our parts, that at our souls Exit, we may have the Plaudit of a good conscience; and then we shall retire from off the stage of this World with comfort, and be received into eternall mansions.

Of Imployment and variety of Fortunes.

VAriety and fulnesse of im­ployment, as it is the best Antidote against the poyson of Melancholy: so no lesse improv­ing than delightfull to any, whom nature hath made Masters of any talents of reason. Where­fore, so long at it shall please providence to continue me on the worlds theatre, I should rather desire to act diverse parts, and run the gantlet of various fortunes, having the course of my life checkr'd with black and white, than to be the Darling of that blind goddesse, that is usually most propitious to those of least understanding. He that expects a plenitude of content, whilst on this side mortality, reckons without his [Page 55] Host, and feeds his fancy with fond and ridiculous hopes; for nature hath set such an high excise of care and trouble, on her apparent Commodities, that they often become Bankrupts of reason, (the richest Jewell of the lesser world) that much traffick with her. There is no eating the sowre Grapes of the worlds seeming pleasures, with­out setting the teeth on edge; Much therefore is the voluptu­arist mistaken, that thinks to exact a large tribute of pleasure from all the objects, his soul converseth with in this lower Region of nature, since all things are stampt not only with vanity but also vexation of spi­rit, the true reason providence could never stuffe the Cushion of any mans fortune with so soft a down, but that he thought it harder then Iacobs pillow.

An rectè fecit Augustus, inimi­cos constituendo haeredes? Neg.

DOth the Light of reason's lamp (by time sunk into the socket of old age) burn so dim? or do the clouds of dotage in the evening of mans life no lesse obscure prudence than the mists of ignorance that usually attend the first dawnings of rea­son in the souls Infancy? Or did the Sun of Caesars prudence set, before the day of his life went down? that his under­standing was so benighted, as to make those heirs of his sub­stance, that were the mortall enemies of his felicity; That he should gratify those with the spoyles of his Fortune, who had more reason to expect a gibbet than a legacy. What [Page 57] greater blasphemy against rea­son could Caesar have been guil­ty of? what more contrary to the rules of true policy, could the most infatuated under­standing have committed? was not this madnesse beyond pa­rallell, both of former ages moulded by time, or the latter, more pregnant in acts of folly? How much better had it been that Caesar had dyed intestate, than that he should thus in the last act, and Catastrophe of his life, Register himself a fool to prosperity? Certainly had Cae­sar divulged his will before he concluded the fable of his life, he had never extorted a Plaudit from his friends at his souls Exit from off the stage of his body. Shall thine enemy's (Oh Caesar) reap the fruits of all thy Victo­ries? shall their brows be crow­ned with thy successes? shal those [Page 58] that hate thee, be adorned with thy spoyles? shall they wear the Lawrels and garlands of thy tri­umphs? shall the ashes of thy urne (like the Phoenix's) give birth to their felicities? wilt thou now pay tribute to thy e­nemies who ere-while taxedst the whole Earth? This is to invite future injuries, by rewarding past. It is an argument of a low spirit to be oblig'd by dis­courtesies. The love of no Creature, except the ignoble Spannell is confirm'd by a cud­gell: shall the affections of di­vine Caesar (like base Meteors in the lower Region of the aire) be kindled by an Antipe­stasis? shall the rayes of his fa­vour dart cheiefly on his ene­mies? shall the streames of his munificency tide most towards them that hate him? if so, its better to be Caesars enemy than [Page 59] his friend. And were he again (according to the Platonick fiction) to act over the fable of his life, he should have ene­mies enough. For who would not be Caesars enemy to be his Heir? But why doth Augustus choose to erect the monuments of his frame in his enemies hearts? Are they like to proove most gratefull to his memory, most civil to this ashes? or are they the most deserving of all the Romans? if so, why Caesars enemyes? why did not his pru­dence rather (while the oyle of life lasted) register them in the catalogue of his friends? were not the eyes of his under­standing open, till death closed the casements of his body? was Caesar a hater of vertue during life, but desiring her good word fawnes on her when he is ready to turn his back upon the [Page 60] world? This is to salve his prudence with impiety. Per­haps thinking the malignant breath of his enemies malice, might either disturb or scatter his ashes, or blast the flour of his memory, or puffe out the blaze of his renouned name, that same had kindl'd in all parts of the known world, thought it wis­dome by a legacy to bribe their Tongues into a compliance, that they might rather rebound and eccho than damp the sound of his good report. But for certain, had Caesar so well acted his part as to deserve an Euge at his going off the worlds theatre, he needed not to have brib'd or courted officious fame to egister and em balm his me­mory to all future ages. Or what needed deifyed Augustus, that is plac'd among the Gods care more for the rayling of his [Page 61] enemies, than the Moon though place'd in a lower orb, doth Dogs barking at her shadow.

Of Thoughts.

ADmirable was that saying of a wise Heathen. Nun­quam minus solus quàm cùm so­lus, and will hold true not on­ly in Contemplative men, and great Scholars, who by their Genius and employments, are given much to meditation; but also in all others: For as the good-mans heart is a rich trea­sury of good thoughts, or as a living fountain, alwayes flow­ing with Crystall streames to the refreshing of his soul; so on the contrary, the wicked mans mind is a cage of uncleane birds, a den of foul beasts, a very jakes or sinck of all manner of pollutions and uncleannesse. For the rationall soul, that [Page 62] beam (as I may so say) of Di­vinity, or ray of divine Ma­iesty, (like the sprightly ele­ment of fire) can no more be confin'd than the wind, nor depriv'd of action than the Sea of its Tydes, or the Stars of their course, nay we may with as much ease, bottle up the winds, and pull the Starrs from Heaven, as impose a confinement on the soul, or for the least moment, deprive it of all action and operation: and therefore whensoever it is vacant, from all externall ob­jects, and disingag'd from all other imployments; it retires into the closet of its own breast, and converses with the family of its own thoughts: which if train'd up in the Schoole of vertue and religion, may administer us much plea­sure, as to traffick with the [Page 63] best of externall objects, or to be imploy'd in the most splen­did of human affairs. The good man (saith our saviour) out of the treasure of his heart, bring­eth forth good things, that is, good thoughts; for thoughts are the pictures of the minde drawn by its own pencill. In thoughs the soul uncyphers and as it were Coppies out it self; and limn's it's own effigies to the life; they are the pulses, by whose beating is discover'd the health or indisposition of the heart, they are the looking-glasse, in which the soul may take a view of its own features; nay they are the off-spring of the Intellect, which bears its re­semblance as Children do their Parents.

Now the wicked mans mind, being tainted with sin pollu­ted with corruption, and [Page 64] grown ranck with iniquity, the whole stream and source of his thoughts (like water flow­ing from a filthy fountain) must needs run muddy; or as liquor drawn from a tainted and pol­luted vessell must needs carry a tast of the Cask: even so are the wicked mans thoughts, tainted and tinctur'd with the sin and vanity of his wicked heart, the loathsome womb that gave them birth.

On Atheism, or, not acknowledg­ing a Deity.

ATheism is the most ridi­culous piece of nonsense that ever was hatcht, by the unnaturall heat of a feavourish and distemper'd brain, certain­ly that soul never look't out at the casements of its eyes, nor reflected on the fabrick of its own body, that cannot discern [Page 65] the footsteps of a Diety. To date the worlds existency from all eternity, or father its origi­nall on the fortuitous conflux of Atoms, are alike ridiculous. For certain the most fabulous of religions carryes not so many absurdities in its womb, as the fools bolt, There is no God. I could sooner, with the Turk expect Mahomets return in the forme of a Ram, to receive the Butterflyes of the Alcaron, into his curled fleece; or with the leaden pated Papists, believe all the miracles of the golden le­gend; or with the Jews give credit to the fables of the Tal­mud: Than suppose with the Atheist that this beautifull and wellorderd system of Nature, could spring from the womb of nothing without the mid­wifry of an infinite and eter­nall power.

Of writing Libells.

HE is to be accounted more rash than wise, and a grea­ter lover of his wit than safety, that will venture to libell any man, before he can fling the ashes of his urn, instead of sand upon his papers. But to speak ill of those that have turn'd their backs upon the world, is as unhumane, as to back-bite the living is unsafe. Therefore to detract from any mans worth whether living or dead, friend or foe, should be accounted a Theam too unworthy and base for an ingenuous man either to dip his quill, or foul his mouth withall. For it is more than probable, that he is Master but of few deserts, wherewith to set up the credit of his name, that must lay the foundation of his [Page 67] own in the ruine of anothers frame; for a noble and gene­rous spirit will rather with the Sun, endeavour to outshine; than with the malignant planet of the Moon to eclipse a greater lustre. We count that but a wan and faint beauty that stands in need of a foyle; nor are those, but low and pigmy-statured merits that cannot appear, unlesse by dismounting all o­thers perfections. To conclude, foul surely is the complexion that hath no other meanes of appearing true or rendering it self comely, than by casting dirt upon all other mens faces, this is like the Athenian that not knowing how to erect a more worthy Trophie to eternise his fame would needs sow the me­mory of his name in the Em­bers of Diana's Temple.

Of Religion.

1. HE that sayles by the Compass of a Conscience, not toucht by Gods spirit, will undoubtedly erre in steering his course to­wards heaven: and split his soul on the Rocks of Schism and error. Therefore since God hath given us his law to be a light to our feet, and a lant­horn to our pathes: I should think it safer, to follow the conduct thereof, than the false light of a deluded conscience, that is tost and driven about by every wind of Doctrine.

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A wise-man lives more by precepts, Man­ners. than example. And there­fore will rather frame and fashi­on his life according to an ex­act and perfect Idea of vertue, than (like the Ape) dresse him­self by the false glasse of others examples; or transcribe those corrupt and imperfect copies that the best of mortalls can prescribe unto him.

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3. To be intimate­ly acquainted with a mans self, Nosce teip­sum. and accor­ding to the Sages ad­vice, arrive to [...], is a lesson hard enough for the high­est form and best Scholar in [Page 70] wisdomes Schoole. But see­ing its no lesse necessary than difficult, we should be alwayes conning thereof; The Poet, in his Ne te quaesiveris extra, gives no bad advice, for attain­ing thereto. For he that re­sides much at home, and is chiefly conversant with the fa­mily of his own thoughts, will better understand his own va­lue, than they that rate them­selves according to the estimate that the favour or malice of men may put upon them.

4

Above all things prise the Golden mi­nutes and Silver sands of time, Time as knowing the losse irreparable, and therefore the profuse spenders thereof, the worst of prodigalls. He that [Page 71] loseth his Morning studies, gives an ill precedent to the Afternoon, and makes such an hole in the beginning of the day, that all the winged hours will be in danger of flying out thereat. I believe Scholars of all others, are the greatest mur­derers of time, unlesse Masters of some trade or art, wherein to spend their after-meal­houres. The custome there­fore of the Turk is commenda­ble, that gives every man, a trade, as an Antidote against idlenesse, the root and seed of all evil.

5.

He that reads much and never me­ditates, Medi­tation. shall reap as little fruit of his labours, as the Daughters of Danaus in Hell, who are said in sieves to carry water to a Tub, of as many holes, as Argus' s [Page 72] head had eyes, there is no Eel more slippery, nor Mer­cury more volatile than the winged motions of the mind, unlesse charm'd and fixed by se­rious and frequent meditation: for by meditation the mind doth ripen, hatch, and bring to maturity, such notions or seeds of knowledge, as much reading and ingenuous compa­ny hath as it were sown and sprawn'd in the Intellect.

6

If one whome nature hath fram'd a Cyclops rather than a Janus, Antiqui­tyes. and in stead of granting two faces, fur­nish'd with but one eye, should notwithstanding wear it be­hind him he would be accoun­ted no lesse monstrous, for the [Page 73] placing that one, than for the want of another light.

Such a production would be the true Hieroglyphick of a young man studying antiqui­ties: The eye of whose Intel­lect, by looking backwards hath brought him better ac­quainted with ages time hath rusted, than those of his own wherein he lives; and there­fore all his learning and skill (like that of the Parthians) may without injury be sayd, to consist in shooting backwards.

I cannot think it prudence for an Englishman to go visit Rome, before he hath been at London; nor for any that intend to be well travell'd in the knowledge of things, to ad­vance their first steps in the ob­scure and dusty paths of Antiqui­tyes.

7

I can easily believe that the younger dayes of time, Overva­luing for­mer ages. and childhood of the world, might not be guilty of so much fraud and guile, as the experience of a­bove 5000 yeares may now have taught: but I could ne­ver scrue up my belief (a fault incident to our Antiqua­ryes) to so high an opinion of the sanctity and felicity of El­der times, as not to take the Golden age our Poets report under the Reign of Saturne, for a poeticall fiction.

8

No man ought to despise old age, by reason that yeares teach wis­dom, Old age. and time is the mother of experience; The true reason we so seldom find the seeds of prudence sown, but where time hath plow'd up furrowes, and in whom old age is crown'd with silver hairs. As if we were not to expect any fruit from the tree of know­ledge till the flower of Juvenile beauty be wither'd.

9

If it be true which Philoso­phers tells us, that nothing is in the In­tellect, Travail. which passes not through the Door of some sense, then certainly their in­tellects [Page 76] must be most improv'd, and possesse the largest stock of knowledge whose senses have traffiqu't and been enter­tain'd with greatest variety of objects, which recommends travaile as the meanes of no small improovment; and may by one of a Mercurial Genius, or that's somewhat insighted in the way of traffick, be accom­plish'd without detriment of estate, and no small advan­tage to the Intellect.

10

But he that would pass through all the forms of e­ducation, Variety of em­ploy­ment. and com­mence in the highest degree of accomplish­ment; that would be as much a gentleman as a Schollar, and understand [Page 77] the world as well as books, the Genius of men, as Authors; must not satisfy himself with what the School's ferula, U [...]ni­versity) dicipline, or travaile hath taught him: but should run the gantlet of divers for­tunes, and become pupill to the Experience of various imploy­ments. A Princes Court is no bad School of policy, and the experience of our late wars have proov'd the camp a place of little lesse improovment; and, to speak truth, he is hardly a legitimate son of Pallas, in whose education Arts and Armes have not espous'd each other.

11

Deny do man that tribute of Respect, that is due to his merits, Respect. though [Page 78] his originall were clouded with never so mean a fortune. For honour is the Crown and re­ward of vertue, the Aire on which heroick spirits (like the Camelion) are fed and nourish­ed: therefore there can be no greater injury offer'd a man of spirit, than to rob him of that respect and honour, his place and merits seem to entitle him unto.

12

Of all men the Souldier is thought most ten­der of his reputati­on: Souldiers. nor altogether without cause; having purcha­sed his honour with the price of his blood, a higher rate than most are willing to adventure, and to speak truth, of all hon­our, that's truest, which hath [Page 79] been won by the sword in a purple field of blood; and he is the best Gentleman, that is the Son of his own deserts, and not the degenerated heir of anothers vertue; that sets up with the stock of his own, and not his ancestours merits; that is himself the Artificer of his fortunes, hewing them out of his enemies bowells: therefore of all the Sons of vertue, who by their merits have been crown'd with glory and aray'd with the purple robe of honour, the Soldiers scarlet which hath been dy'd in blood may be justly thought the bra­vest tincture.

13

Be not like the Salamander [Page 80] delighted in the fire of contention, Passion. but beware of Passion, as the most Capital enemy to the Crown and Empire of Reason: for those Sons of Thunder (whom by the light­ning and fire of their blustring natures, one would suppose begotten in a storme) if we mark the Catastrophe of their turbulent lives we shall find them coucluded in a tempest. and not unoften like the Phoe­nix expire in a funerall pile themselves had kindled. For like the Silly fly they so long sport in the flames of conten­tion, till at length sindging the wings of their understanding, and sacrificing their Reason to their Passion, they become a prey to the malice of their enemies. A little pot is soon hot, saieth our English proverb, [Page 81] and they are usually ob­serv'd to be men of least under­standing, whose Choler can soon be set on boyling.

14

Beware of Pride, Pride. as the le­ven that sours mens best Actions and renders them ungrate­full to the gust both of God and Man: whensoever there­fore a puffe or tumour of self-conceit begins to arise, whe­ther from an overvaluing ap­prehension of thy worth, or blown by the venemous breath of parafiticall prayse, be sure timely to prick it with a seri­ous reflection on some infirmi­ty of thy nature, lest otherwise like the toad in the fable, by ridiculous swelling beyond your naturall proportion you [Page 82] discover the narrownesse of your spirit.

15

Let nothing obstruct, or hedge up your way from doing good, Charity. or performing the acts of Charity; nor be like those narrow-spirited men, that are so wedded to their own Inte­rest, and so unconcern'd in the publick good of humane nature, that they could be willing to reap an harvest of private profit, sown in the ashes, and spring­ing from the detriment of all mankind, that could with dry eyes celebrate the obsequies of universall Nature; and pick­ing up the broken peices of the heavens Axle-Tree, warm them­selves at the ruines of the world; that would rather, with the [Page 83] impious Gyants, throw Rocks and Mountaines to destroy, than one of Deucalions stones to repaire their species. These are the base borne Sons of Earth, the off-spring of the Dragons teeth, sowne by Cad­mus, the common enemies of Mankind, and Traytors to the Common wealth of Nature.

16

What ever fortunes provi­dence may allot, give not entertainment to discontent, Discon­tent. and you cannot be un­happy: for that is the fly that corrupts the Oyntment of life's sweetest pleasures. The Breeze that stinging mans mind in the very sommer of his fortunes, suffers it no more to rest in the Paradice of pleasures, than on [Page 84] a bed of thorns. Or like the Harpyes that infested Peneus's table, spoyles and devours all the pleasures and delights the most splendid of fortunes can furnish forth; yea it lines the night-cap with such pricking cares, as will make the stron­gest head to ake, whose hard fortune it is to weare it.

17

Be not too confident of a young mans vertue, Youth. nor think one that hath made a good beginning and advanc'd sarrein the paths of goodnesse, may not like the planets be found retrograde, giving a baff'le to that expectation, and strangling those hopes the fair blossoms of their younger years had gi­ven [Page 85] birth unto. This errour hath too often been confuted by sad experience, the conside­ration whereof should awaken the care and jealousy of those that are intrusted with youth's education.

18

He had need of a good Stock of Learning and know­ledge, Writ­ing Books. that by printing books gives the world an Inventory of his braines furniture.

I know some expose their labours to publick censure for the same reason Apelles is sayd to have done his pictures: to wit, that they might come ac­quainted with the errours of their pens or style, as he of his pencill: But such usually con­ceal their names under a vaile [Page 86] of modesty, as that famous painter did himself, behind the cloth of his picture.

19

If any have cast dirt on the face of thy Actions, Vindica­tion. or with a fowl Tongue any way sul­li'd the innocency of thy conversation give not the world occasion by thy wincing, to think that truth hath galled thee. Nor so much indeavour, by a smooth apology, as the inte­grity of thy future life, to put malice to the blush, and silense an ill report: Knowing that however envy may for a time cloud, it can never totally Ec­clipse the light and splendor of a vertuous conversation.

20

Raise thy estate rather by some profitable im­ployment, Cove­tous­nesse. than a pe­nurious brooding o­ver those fortunes the hand of providence hath reacht forth unto thee: lest imitating the miser's folly, thou also inherit his op­probrious Character, of whom thou mayest justly imagine men thus to discourse. He lives long, because he payes no Interest for the yeares nature lends him, and hath the thread of his life spun Gratis: But should old time turn usurer, and charge his weeks with a Rent, and his Minuets with Excise: or the three Sisters become Mercena­ry, and require wages for their spinning: he would rather dye, so the Ferry-man of Hell would [Page 88] give him his passage, than be at charges of farming houres, or defray the spinning of his vitall thread.

21

Let him on whom the Sun of a good fortune is risen, Boasting. be content to warme himself in the beams thereof, without suffering his Tongue become the Herauld of his prosperity, or his folly sound a trumpet to proclaime his felicity: or, to speak more plain, the Language of our English proverb, let the Minions of the blind goddesse that by fortunes bounty fare better than their neighbours, be­ware of crying Roastmeat: seeing that the tong's travailing with such discourse, is of little lesse danger, in this greedy and ra­pacious [Page 89] world, than riding a­mongst Theeves with a charge of mony; for the breath of such discourses have usually blown small profit to those that broach them, and commonly kindle a desire in the hearers brest of sharing in those fortunes, with whose report their eares have too imprudently been Tanta­lized. Had not the found boasting of Collatine's intem­perate Tongue set an edge on young Tarquine's lust, he might have long enjoy'd the sweet im­braces of his beautifull and chaste Lucretia, and never seen her soul forc'd by imperious destiny, to wade to the Stygian shades in a purple Stream of blood. A just punishment of Collatine's folly, and not Lu­cretia's guilt.

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A wise man will not suffer his ambition to soare above the sphere of his ability, Ambi­tion. or like the silly Taylor (that lan­guish'd for love of Queen Eli­zabeth) court any thing in his desire, of which he may not ra­tionally expect the fruition; but rather, with the prudent fox in the fable, will call those grapes sowre, with fortune hath plac'd above his reach.

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If admiration be the daugh­ter of Ignorance (as most acknowledge), Search of cau­ses. it is the duty of every intelligent person to be diligent in the [Page 91] search of causes, that he be not suspris'd with amazement (the grandest Indecorum, and most unbeseeming garbe of a wise man) at any revolutions or alterations, that may happen in the body politick, since that no lesse than things natu­rall, is subject to change and motion; there being nothing permanent under the Sun: the greatest change, is but a nine daies wonder, and that only to the shorter sighted sort of people, that are not able to dis­cerne of causes. The convulsi­ons and distempers of States, spring from as infallible Grounds and Reasons, as any disease of the body naturall, though perhaps in the one they may be more latent & difficult to unridle than in the other. For nothing happens either in Nature or Republicks that [Page 92] that may be call'd the Daugh­ter of chance, or say'd to owe it's existency to the will of the blind Goddesse fortune; but the whole empire of the world is govern'd by the scepter of Gods providence, who since the cea­sing of miracles hath decreed all things to be produc'd by the midwifry of second causes.

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But beware, a too great in­quisitivenesse into stare affaires purchase not the odious epi­thite of a Politician; Policy. for it is better to be wise than so ac­counted, since according to the opinion of most, the time is not yet come, wherein we may expect the prudence of the Serpent and innocency of the dove should couch together: [Page 93] and therefore, as some are thought to inherit too small a stock of wit, to set up for Knaves; so in others are found too many graines of Serpentine cunning, to admit much of the doves simplicity: whereby it comes to passe that policy is of most use to those that can best dissemble it, as if, like the art of jugling, or sleight of hand, it were nothing worth when once discover'd. I remember Solomon hath said, It is not good to be over wise: and there are many that want not wit, that had rather be accounted fools than polititians.

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It I hath been alwayes ac­counted prudence, Delibera­tion, or before a man im­barks himself in any [Page 94] design or enterprise, to consider well of the event or issue, Festina lenté. that it is like to a­rive unto; for the want of this hath often prov'd the ruine of many a glorious undertaking: for where one design hath been gravell'd in the sands of delay, thousands have been split on the rock of praecipitancy and rashnesse. Charybdis doth not triumph in morewracks of ships than this in ruines of great un­dertakings. The Spaniard who is reputed none of the worst Polititians, accounts his designes ripened and not rotted by time. And therefore it's usuall for the farther to sow the seed, of what the grandchild is to expect the fruit. Raw and extemporary plots, that discover themselves so soon as ever they are hatcht, that like [Page 95] young birds come into the world with the shell on their crownes; or like forward Plants bud before the Sun of a good opportunity hath shi­ned upon them, are usually nipt before they come to maturity, and have their fruit blasted in their first blossoms.

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Learning like dancing or playing on a Fiddle is counted by the proud world, Learn­ing des­pised. a better accomplishment than profession: and there­fore poor Schollars that have nothing to live on but the Stock of their parts, and wits journey-work are commonly entertain'd with as little respect as Dan­cing-Masters, or common Fid­lers, which brings to my mind [Page 96] that of Solomon, that wisdome is good with an Inheritance. It's reported of Cleanthes, a poor Philosopher, that he drew water by night to maintain himself by day in the Muses ser­vice.

The unworthinesse of this age threatens Schollars with as bad imployment, unlesse fur­nish'd with two Strings to their bowes: There are some trades too ingenious for any but the Sons of Minerva, as Merchan­dise, Making Watches, Lim­ning, and Ingraving, with some others that depend on Mathematicks, in some of which, a Schollar might profitably employ some of his afternoon hours, not as if I thought not learning a full imployment, but because the most industrious are often in­dispos'd to study.

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Let not a fond conceit of thy name being born on the wings of fame Conceit. sing lull-aby, and rock asleep thy industry: for many had arriv'd to a great height in Learning had they not too soon thought their know­ledge at the Zenith; and with Hercules setting up their pillars wrote their Ne plus Ultra. This, I am perswaded, hath rob'd the world of many a splendent Star, of Light; but to ballance this, consider, that by rea­son of that vayle of obscurity that covers the face of nature, together with that night of Ig­norance, that dwels on mans understanding, the highest pitch that the best wing'd indus­try, can soare unto, is but a dis­covery that it knows little or [Page 98] nothing, more than the various opinions and fancyes of men.

To conclude, set him that hath dedicated him­self to the Muses ser­vice study such things as are of use, Conclu­sion. rather than ostentation; and, as one hath well observ'd, rather with the Bee endeavour to gather Honey, than like the silly But­terfly paint it his wings.

Let the consideration of the shortnesse of the day of mans life Ars longae v [...]ta bre­vis. wherein he is to traverse the long and intricate paths of Learning, quicken up our diligence to an indefatigable Industry; lest the night of death over­take us, and cause the Sun of our life to set, before any light of knowledge hath dawn'd on ous souls, and so we go down [Page 99] to the Earth with the same vaile of Ignorance on our under­standings, and our Reason [...] as much hood wink'd as when we came first into the world.

S [...] Verbum Sapienti.

Of Death.

WHat kind of Bug-bear soever Death may be represented, through the Sophisticated Glasse of Me­lancholy apprehensions, as that he is the King of terrours, the worme's Caterer, and na­tures Sargeant, that arrests poor mortalls, for the debt due to corruption, and gives checkmate not only to life's pleasure, but also the pleasant gaire of mans life; and may therefore be term'd life's de­vourer, the grand Anthropo­phagus, or man-eater, that as it were cracks the shell of the flesh for worms, himself preying on the sweet kernell of the soul. These and such like are the black colours with which igno­rance and guilt paynts a visard and masks the face of death.

[Page 101] Whereas could we acknow­ledge the truth, we should con­fesse it as naturall to dye as to be borne; Death being but the souls breaking up of house, or dismantling it self of the no less cumbersom than dusty Gar­ments of flesh, or rather that it is the goal of the souls race, the palme of victory, the very crown and reward of life.

Death is not the Jaylor that captivates, but the Herauld that proclaimes liberty and re­prievs the soul from the confine­ment and prison of its body: that knocks off the Fetters and Shackles of flesh, and gives it the desired Exit from off the stage of this trouble some world, the tra­veler in the fable wishd for death but quayling at his approach, de­sir'd his hand to help him up w ^th his burthen; whereas death in­tended him a greater courtesy, to [Page 102] wit, the unloading his soul of those heavy clods or earth, and bundle of corruption it groan­eth under. Thus many stand in their own light, and will not suffer themselves to be befrien­ded, like the little Poet that durst not put off his heavy shoes left the wind, committing a rape on his leight Body should carry him away as the Eagle is said to have done Ganymed: thus loath are the most of men that death should take off the leaden shoes of their bodies, notwithstanding they hinder their souls flight into Elysi­um.

Death is so far from being the murderer of life, that it rather hatches it by breaking up the Shell of the body, in which it was imprison'd or rather se­minally conteyn'd: for as the chicken or young fowle, is ex­cluded [Page 103] from the egge; or ma­teriall forme educ'd from the womb of its first matter, in which nature had treasur'd it up; so springs the Phoenix [...] our lives from the ruines and ashes of our bodies: Yea it's impos­sible the Sun of our true life should shine forth in it's full glory till the cloud of our flesh be dissipated, which occasion­ed the wisest of Kings to say. The day of a mans death is better than the day of his birth. Which according to Platoes Philoso­phy may be digested without a comment: for if the glorious lamp of the soul were thrust in­to the dark lant-horn of its bo­dy, by way of punishment for crimes committed in her Vir­gin estate, when shee had her mansion among the Stars; then certainly, when by death she shall be return'd to her hea­venly [Page 104] socket, she is no way in­jur'd but restor'd to her primi­tive lustre and glory.

Such a notion as this (though I confesse erroneous enough as antedating the souls existency) yet is of greater Analogy to the immunities and priviledges death puts the soul in possession of, than those cloudy and dast­ard apprehensions that most Christians entertain thereof; who in this, seem shorter sight­ed than the Barbarous Scythi­ans who use to celebrate the ob­sequies of their nighest Relati­ons, more after the manner of a triumph than a funerall, more rightly accounting, that we falsely terme the expiring of of lives lease, the haven of rest, the period of misery and souls reprieve from the Captivity of flesh; whereas their childrens births they solemniz'd with all [Page 105] expressions of grief and sor­row, as fore-seeing the miseries that usually accompany the soules entrance on earths thea­ter. Nor did the Scythians alone ingrosse this notion, for other Heathens were also Masters of it; witnesse the facetious end of Augustus Caesar who is reported to have con­cluded the fable of his life with a consort of Musick and begg'd a Plaudit of his friends at his go­ing off the Stage of the World.

Mors ultima linea rerum.