No More Learning

On the 15th of February, 1578, they arrived at Lima, and entered the
harbour without resistance, though thirty ships were stationed there,
of which seventeen were equipped for their voyage, and many of them
are represented in the narrative as vessels of considerable force; so
that their security seems to have consisted, not in their strength,
but in their reputation, which had so intimidated the Spaniards, that
the sight of their own superiority could not rouse them to opposition.
Instances of such panick terrours are to be met with in other
relations; but as they are, for the most part, quickly dissipated by
reason and reflection, a wise commander will rarely found his hopes of
success on them; and, perhaps, on this occasion, the Spaniards
scarcely deserve a severer censure for their cowardice, than Drake for
his temerity.

In one of these ships they found fifteen hundred bars of silver; in
another a chest of money; and very rich lading in many of the rest, of
which the Spaniards tamely suffered them to carry the most valuable
part away, and would have permitted them no less peaceably to burn
their ships; but Drake never made war with a spirit of cruelty or
revenge, or carried hostilities further than was necessary for his own
advantage or defence.

They set sail the next morning towards Panama, in quest of the Caca
Fuego, a very rich ship, which had sailed fourteen days before, bound
thither from Lima, which they overtook, on the 1st of March, near cape
Francisco, and, boarding it, found not only a quantity of jewels, and
twelve chests of ryals of plate, but eighty pounds weight of gold, and
twenty-six tons of uncoined silver, with pieces of wrought plate to a
great value. In unlading this prize they spent six days, and then,
dismissing the Spaniards, Stood off to sea.

Being now sufficiently enriched, and having lost all hopes of finding
their associates, and, perhaps, beginning to be infected with that
desire of ease and pleasure, which is the natural consequence of
wealth obtained by dangers and fatigues, they began to consult about
their return home, and, in pursuance of Drake's advice, resolved first
to find out some convenient harbour, where they might supply
themselves with wood and water, and then endeavour to discover a
passage from the south sea into the Atlantick ocean; a discovery,
which would not only enable them to return home with less danger, and
in a shorter time, but would much facilitate the navigation in those
parts of the world.

For this purpose they had recourse to a port in the island of Caines,
where they met with fish, wood, and fresh water; and, in their course,
took a ship, laden with silk and linen, which was the last that they
met with on the coast of America.

But being desirous of storing themselves for a long course, they
touched, April the 15th, at Guatulco, a Spanish island, where they
supplied themselves with provisions, and seized a bushel of ryals of
silver.

From Guatulco, which lies in 15 deg. 40 min. they stood out to sea,
and, without approaching any land, sailed forward, till, on the night
following, the 3rd of June, being then in the latitude of thirty-eight
degrees, they were suddenly benumbed with such cold blasts, that they
were scarcely able to handle the ropes. This cold increased upon them,
as they proceeded, to such a degree, that the sailors were discouraged
from mounting upon the deck; nor were the effects of the climate to be
imputed to the warmth of the regions to which they had been lately
accustomed, for the ropes were stiff with frost, and the meat could
scarcely be conveyed warm to the table.

On June 17th, they came to anchor in 38 deg. 30 min. when they saw the
land naked, and the trees without leaves, and in a short time had
opportunities of observing, that the natives of that country were not
less sensible of the cold than themselves; for the next day came a man
rowing in his canoe towards the ship, and at a distance from it made a
long oration, with very extraordinary gesticulations, and great
appearance of vehemence, and, a little time afterwards, made a second
visit, in the same manner, and then returning a third time, he
presented them, after his harangue was finished, with a kind of crown
of black feathers, such as their kings wear upon their heads, and a
basket of rushes, filled with a particular herb, both which he
fastened to a short stick, and threw into the boat; nor could he be
prevailed upon to receive any thing in return, though pushed towards
him upon a board; only he took up a hat, which was flung into the
water.

Three days afterwards, their ship, having received some damage at sea,
was brought nearer to land, that the lading might be taken out. In
order to which, the English, who had now learned not too negligently
to commit their lives to the mercy of savage nations, raised a kind of
fortification with stones, and built their tents within it. All this
was not beheld by the inhabitants without the utmost astonishment,
which incited them to come down in crowds to the coast, with no other
view, as it appeared, than to worship the new divinities that had
condescended to touch upon their country.

Drake was far from countenancing their errours, or taking advantage of
their weakness, to injure or molest them; and, therefore, having
directed them to lay aside their bows and arrows, he presented them
with linen, and other necessaries, of which he showed them the use.
They then returned to their habitations, about three quarters of a
mile from the English camp, where they made such loud and violent
outcries, that they were heard by the English, who found that they
still persisted in their first notions, and were paying them their
kind of melancholy adoration.

Two days afterwards they perceived the approach of a far more numerous
company, who stopped at the top of a hill, which overlooked the
English settlement, while one of them made a long oration, at the end
of which all the assembly bowed their bodies, and pronounced the
syllable _oh_, with a solemn tone, as by way of confirmation of
what had been said by the orator. Then the men, laying down their
bows, and leaving the women and children on the top of the hill, came
down towards the tents, and seemed transported, in the highest degree,
at the kindness of the general, who received their gifts, and admitted
them to his presence. The women at a distance appeared seized with a
kind of phrensy, such as that of old among the pagans in some of their
religious ceremonies, and in honour, as it seemed, of their guests,
tore their cheeks and bosoms with their nails, and threw themselves
upon the stones with their naked bodies, till they were covered with
blood.

These cruel rites, and mistaken honours, were by no means agreeable to
Drake, whose predominant sentiments were notions of piety, and,
therefore, not to make that criminal in himself by his concurrence,
which, perhaps, ignorance might make guiltless in them, he ordered his
whole company to fall upon their knees, and, with their eyes lifted up
to heaven, that the savages might observe that their worship was
addressed to a being residing there, they all joined in praying that
this harmless and deluded people might be brought to the knowledge of
the true religion, and the doctrines of our blessed Saviour; after
which they sung psalms, a performance so pleasing to their wild
audience, that, in all their visits, they generally first accosted
them with a request that they would sing. They then returned all the
presents which they had received, and retired.

Three days after this, on June 25, 1579, our general received two
ambassadours from the hioh, or king of the country, who, intending to
visit the camp, required that some token might be sent him of
friendship and peace; this request was readily complied with, and soon
after came the king, attended by a guard of about a hundred tall men,
and preceded by an officer of state, who carried a sceptre made of
black wood, adorned with chains of a kind of bone or horn, which are
marks of the highest honour among them, and having two crowns, made as
before, with feathers fastened to it, with a bag of the same herb,
which was presented to Drake at his first arrival.

Behind him was the king himself, dressed in a coat of cony-skins, with
a caul, woven with feathers, upon his head, an ornament so much in
estimation there, that none but the domesticks of the king are allowed
to wear it; his attendants followed him, adorned nearly in the same
manner; and after them came the common people, with baskets plaited so
artificially that they held water, in which, by way of sacrifice, they
brought roots and fish.

Drake, not lulled into security, ranged his men in order of battle,
and waited their approach, who, coming nearer, stood still, while the
sceptre-bearer made an oration, at the conclusion of which they again
came forward to the foot of the hill, and then the sceptre-bearer
began a song, which he accompanied with a dance, in both which the men
joined, but the women danced without singing.

Drake now, distrusting them no longer, admitted them into his
fortification, where they continued their song and dance a short time;
and then both the king, and some others of the company, made long
harangues, in which it appeared, by the rest of their behaviour, that
they entreated him to accept of their country, and to take the
government of it into his own hands; for the king, with the apparent
concurrence of the rest, placed the crown upon his head, graced him
with the chains and other signs of authority, and saluted him with the
title of hioh.

The kingdom thus offered, though of no further value to him than as it
furnished him with present necessaries, Drake thought it not prudent
to refuse; and, therefore, took possession of it in the name of queen
Elizabeth, not without ardent wishes, that this acquisition might have
been of use to his native country, and that so mild and innocent a
people might have been united to the church of Christ.

The kingdom being thus consigned, and the grand affair at an end, the
common people left their king and his domesticks with Drake, and
dispersed themselves over the camp; and when they saw any one that
pleased them by his appearance more than the rest, they tore their
flesh, and vented their outcries as before, in token of reverence and
admiration.

They then proceeded to show them their wounds and diseases, in hopes
of a miraculous and instantaneous cure; to which the English, to
benefit and undeceive them at the same time, applied such remedies as
they used on the like occasions.

They were now grown confident and familiar, and came down to the camp
every day, repeating their ceremonies and sacrifices, till they were
more fully informed how disagreeable they were to those whose favour
they were so studious of obtaining: they then visited them without
adoration, indeed, but with a curiosity so ardent, that it left them
no leisure to provide the necessaries of life, with which the English
were, therefore, obliged to supply them.

They had then sufficient opportunity to remark the customs and
dispositions of these new allies, whom they found tractable and
benevolent, strong of body, far beyond the English, yet unfurnished
with weapons, either for assault or defence, their bows being too weak
for any thing but sport. Their dexterity in taking fish was such,
that, if they saw them so near the shore that they could come to them
without swimming, they never missed them.

The same curiosity that had brought them in such crowds to the shore,
now induced Drake, and some of his company, to travel up into the
country, which they found, at some distance from the coast, very
fruitful, filled with large deer, and abounding with a peculiar kind
of conies, smaller than ours, with tails like that of a rat, and paws
such as those of a mole; they have bags under their chin, in which
they carry provisions to their young.

The houses of the inhabitants are round holes dug in the ground, from
the brink of which they raise rafters, or piles, shelving towards the
middle, where they all meet, and are crammed together; they lie upon
rushes, with the fire in the midst, and let the smoke fly out at the
door.

The men are generally naked; but the women make a kind of petticoat of
bulrushes, which they comb like hemp, and throw the skin of a deer
over their shoulders. They are very modest, tractable, and obedient to
their husbands.

Such is the condition of this people; and not very different is,
perhaps, the state of the greatest part of mankind. Whether more
enlightened nations ought to look upon them with pity, as less happy
than themselves, some skepticks have made, very unnecessarily, a
difficulty of determining. More, they say, is lost by the perplexities
than gained by the instruction of science; we enlarge our vices with
our knowledge, and multiply our wants with our attainments, and the
happiness of life is better secured by the ignorance of vice, than by
the knowledge of virtue.

The fallacy by which such reasoners have imposed upon themselves,
seems to arise from the comparison which they make, not between two
men equally inclined to apply the means of happiness in their power to
the end for which providence conferred them, but furnished in unequal
proportions with the means of happiness, which is the true state of
savage and polished nations; but between two men, of which he to whom
providence has been most bountiful, destroys the blessings by
negligence or obstinate misuse; while the other, steady, diligent, and
virtuous, employs his abilities and conveniences to their proper end.
The question is not, whether a good Indian or bad Englishman be most
happy; but, which state is most desirable, supposing virtue and reason
the same in both.

Nor is this the only mistake which is generally admitted in this
controversy, for these reasoners frequently confound innocence with
the mere incapacity of guilt. He that never saw, or heard, or thought
of strong liquors, cannot be proposed as a pattern of sobriety.

This land was named, by Drake, Albion, from its white cliffs, in which
it bore some resemblance to his native country; and the whole history
of the resignation of it to the English was engraven on a piece of
brass, then nailed on a post, and fixed up before their departure,
which being now discovered by the people to be near at hand, they
could not forbear perpetual lamentations. When the English, on the
23rd of July, weighed anchor, they saw them climbing to the tops of
hills, that they might keep them in sight, and observed fires lighted
up in many parts of the country, on which, as they supposed,
sacrifices were offered.

Near this harbour they touched at some islands, where they found great
numbers of seals; and, despairing now to find any passage through the
northern parts, he, after a general consultation, determined to steer
away to the Moluccas, and setting sail July 25th, he sailed for
sixty-eight days without sight of land; and, on September 30th,
arrived within view of some islands, situate about eight degrees
northward from the line, from whence the inhabitants resorted to them
in canoes, hollowed out of the solid trunk of a tree, and raised at
both ends so high above the water, that they seemed almost a
semicircle; they were burnished in such a manner that they shone like
ebony, and were kept steady by a piece of timber, fixed on each side
of them, with strong canes, that were fastened at one end to the boat,
and at the other to the end of the timber.

The first company that came brought fruits, potatoes, and other things
of no great value, with an appearance of traffick, and exchanged their
lading for other commodities, with great show of honesty and
friendship; but having, as they imagined, laid all suspicion asleep,
they soon sent another fleet of canoes, of which the crews behaved
with all the insolence of tyrants, and all the rapacity of thieves;
for, whatever was suffered to come into their hands, they seemed to
consider as their own, and would neither pay for it, nor restore it;
and, at length, finding the English resolved to admit them no longer,
they discharged a shower of stones from their boats, which insult
Drake prudently and generously returned, by ordering a piece of
ordnance to be fired without hurting them, at which they were so
terrified, that they leaped into the water, and hid themselves under
the canoes.

Having, for some time, but little wind, they did not arrive at the
Moluccas till the 3rd of November, and then, designing to touch at
Tidore, they were visited, as they sailed by a little island belonging
to the king of Ternate, by the viceroy of the place, who informed
them, that it would be more advantageous for them to have recourse to
his master, for supplies and assistance, than to the king of Ternate,
who was, in some degree, dependent on the Portuguese, and that he
would himself carry the news of their arrival, and prepare for their
reception.

Drake was, by the arguments of the viceroy, prevailed upon to alter
his resolution, and, on November 5, cast anchor before Ternate; and
scarce was he arrived, before the viceroy, with others of the chief
nobles, came out in three large boats, rowed by forty men on each
side, to conduct the ship into a safe harbour; and soon after the king
himself, having received a velvet cloak by a messenger from Drake, as
a token of peace, came with such a retinue and dignity of appearance,
as was not expected in those remote parts of the world. He was
received with discharges of cannons and every kind of musick, with
which he was so much delighted, that, desiring the musicians to come
down into the boat, he was towed along in it at the stern of the ship.

The king was of a graceful stature, and regal carriage, of a mild
aspect, and low voice; his attendants were dressed in white cotton or
calico, of whom some, whose age gave them a venerable appearance,
seemed his counsellors, and the rest officers or nobles; his guards
were not ignorant of firearms, but had not many among them, being
equipped, for the most part, with bows and darts.

The king, having spent some time in admiring the multitude of new
objects that presented themselves, retired as soon as the ship was
brought to anchor, and promised to return on the day following; and,
in the mean time, the inhabitants, having leave to traffick, brought
down provisions in great abundance.

At the time when the king was expected, his brother came on board, to
request of Drake that he would come to the castle, proposing to stay
himself as a hostage for his return. Drake refused to go, but sent
some gentlemen, detaining the king's brother in the mean time.

These gentlemen were received by another of the king's brothers, who
conducted them to the council-house, near the castle, in which they
were directed to walk: there they found threescore old men, privy
counsellors to the king, and on each side of the door without stood
four old men of foreign countries, who served as interpreters in
commerce.

In a short time the king came from the castle, dressed in cloth of
gold, with his hair woven into gold rings, a chain of gold upon his
neck, and on his hands rings very artificially set with diamonds and
jewels of great value; over his head was borne a rich canopy; and by
his chair of state, on which he sat down when he had entered the
house, stood a page with a fan set with sapphires, to moderate the
excess of the heat. Here he received the compliments of the English,
and then honourably dismissed them.

The castle, which they had some opportunity of observing, seemed of no
great force; it was built by the Portuguese, who, attempting to reduce
this kingdom into an absolute subjection, murdered the king, and
intended to pursue their scheme by the destruction of all his sons;
but the general abhorrence which cruelty and perfidy naturally excite,
armed all the nation against them, and procured their total expulsion
from all the dominions of Ternate, which, from that time, increasing
in power, continued to make new conquests, and to deprive them of
other acquisitions.

While they lay before Ternate, a gentleman came on board, attended by
his interpreter. He was dressed somewhat in the European manner, and
soon distinguished himself from the natives of Ternate, or any other
country that they had seen, by his civility and apprehension. Such a
visitant may easily be imagined to excite their curiosity, which he
gratified by informing them, that he was a native of China, of the
family of the king then reigning; and that being accused of a capital
crime, of which, though he was innocent, he had not evidence to clear
himself, he had petitioned the king that he might not be exposed to a
trial, but that his cause might be referred to divine providence, and
that he might be allowed to leave his country, with a prohibition
against returning, unless heaven, in attestation of his innocence,
should enable him to bring back to the king some intelligence that
might be to the honour and advantage of the empire of China. In search
of such information he had now spent three years, and had left Tidore
for the sake of conversing with the English general, from whom he
hoped to receive such accounts as would enable him to return with
honour and safety.

Drake willingly recounted all his adventures and observations, to
which the Chinese exile listened with the utmost attention and
delight, and, having fixed them in his mind, thanked God for the
knowledge he had gained. He then proposed to the English general to
conduct him to China, recounting, by way of invitation, the wealth,
extent, and felicity of that empire; but Drake could not be induced to
prolong his voyage.

He, therefore, set sail on the 9th of November, in quest of some
convenient harbour, in a desert island, to refit his ship, not being
willing, as it seems, to trust to the generosity of the king of
Ternate. Five days afterwards he found a very commodious harbour, in
an island overgrown with wood, where he repaired his vessel and
refreshed his men, without danger or interruption.

Leaving this place the 12th of December, they sailed towards the
Celebes; but, having a wind not very favourable, they were detained
among a multitude of islands, mingled with dangerous shallows, till
January 9, 1580. When they thought themselves clear, and were sailing
forward with a strong gale, they were, at the beginning of the night,
surprised in their course by a sudden shock, of which the cause was
easily discovered, for they were thrown upon a shoal, and, by the
speed of their course, fixed too fast for any hope of escaping. Here
even the intrepidity of Drake was shaken, and his dexterity baffled;
but his piety, however, remained still the same, and what he could not
now promise himself from his own ability, he hoped from the assistance
of providence. The pump was plied, and the ship found free from new
leaks.

The next attempt was to discover towards the sea some place where they
might fix their boat, and from thence drag the ship into deep water;
but, upon examination, it appeared that the rock, on which they had
struck, rose perpendicularly from the water, and that there was no
anchorage, nor any bottom to be found a boat's length from the ship.
But this discovery, with its consequences, was, by Drake, wisely
concealed from the common sailors, lest they should abandon themselves
to despair, for which there was indeed cause; there being no prospect
left, but that they must there sink with the ship, which must,
undoubtedly, be soon dashed to pieces, or perish in attempting to
reach the shore in their boat, or be cut in pieces by barbarians, if
they should arrive at land.

In the midst of this perplexity and distress, Drake directed that the
sacrament should be administered, and his men fortified with all the
consolation which religion affords; then persuaded them to lighten the
vessel, by throwing into the sea part of their lading, which was
cheerfully complied with, but without effect. At length, when their
hopes had forsaken them, and no new struggles could be made, they were
on a sudden relieved by a remission of the wind, which, having
hitherto blown strongly against the side of the ship which lay towards
the sea, held it upright against the rock; but when the blast
slackened, being then low water, the ship lying higher with that part
which rested on the rock than with the other, and being borne up no
longer by the wind, reeled into the deep water, to the surprise and
joy of Drake and his companions.

This was the greatest and most inextricable distress which they had
ever suffered, and made such an impression upon their minds, that, for
some time afterwards, they durst not adventure to spread their sails,
but went slowly forward with the utmost circumspection.

They thus continued their course without any observable occurrence,
till, on the 11th of March, they came to an anchor, before the island
of Java, and sending to the king a present of cloth and silks,
received from him, in return, a large quantity of provisions; and, the
day following, Drake went himself on shore, and entertained the king
with his musick, and obtained leave to store his ship with provisions.

The island is governed by a great number of petty kings, or raias,
subordinate to one chief; of these princes three came on board
together, a few days after their arrival; and having, upon their
return, recounted the wonders which they had seen, and the civility
with which they had been treated, incited others to satisfy their
curiosity in the same manner; and raia Donan, the chief king, came
himself to view the ship, with the warlike armaments and instruments
of navigation.

This intercourse of civilities somewhat retarded the business for
which they came; but, at length, they not only victualled their ship,
but cleansed the bottom, which, in the long course, was overgrown with
a kind of shellfish that impeded her passage.

Leaving Java, on March 26 they sailed homewards by the cape of Good
Hope, which they saw on June the 5th; on the 15th of August passed the
tropick; and on the 26th of September arrived at Plymouth, where they
found that, by passing through so many different climates, they had
lost a day in their account of time, it being Sunday by their journal,
but Monday by the general computation.

In this hazardous voyage they had spent two years, ten months, and
some odd days; but were recompensed for their toils by great riches,
and the universal applause of their countrymen. Drake afterwards
brought his ship up to Deptford, where queen Elizabeth visited him on
board his ship, and conferred the honour of knighthood upon him; an
honour, in that illustrious reign, not made cheap by prostitution, nor
even bestowed without uncommon merit.

It is not necessary to give an account, equally particular, of the
remaining part of his life, as he was no longer a private man, but
engaged in publick affairs, and associated in his expeditions with
other generals, whose attempts, and the success of them, are related
in the histories of those times.

In 1585, on the 12th of September, sir Francis Drake set sail from
Plymouth with a fleet of five-and-twenty ships and pinnaces, of which
himself was admiral, captain Martiu Forbisher, viceadmiral, and
captain Francis Knollis, rearadmiral; they were fitted out to cruise
upon the Spaniards; and having touched at the isle of Bayonne, and
plundered Vigo, put to sea again, and on the 16th of November arrived
before St. Jago, which they entered without resistance, and rested
there fourteen days, visiting, in the mean time, San Domingo, a town
within the land, which they found likewise deserted; and, carrying off
what they pleased of the produce of the island, they, at their
departure, destroyed the town and villages, in revenge of the murder
of one of their boys, whose body they found mangled in a most inhuman
manner.

From this island they pursued their voyage to the West Indies,
determining to attack St. Domingo in Hispaniola, as the richest place
in that part of the world; they, therefore, landed a thousand men, and
with small loss entered the town, of which they kept possession for a
month without interruption or alarm; during which time a remarkable
accident happened, which deserves to be related.

Drake, having some intention of treating with the Spaniards, sent to
them a negro boy with a flag of truce, which one of the Spaniards so
little regarded, that he stabbed him through the body with a lance.
The boy, notwithstanding his wound, came back to the general, related
the treatment which he had found, and died in his sight. Drake was so
incensed at this outrage, that he ordered two friars, then his
prisoners, to be conveyed with a guard to the place where the crime
was committed, and hanged up in the sight of the Spaniards, declaring
that two Spanish prisoners should undergo the same death every day,
till the offender should be delivered up by them: they were too well
acquainted with the character of Drake not to bring him on the day
following, when, to impress the shame of such actions more effectually
upon them, he compelled them to execute him with their own hands. Of
this town, at their departure, they demolished part, and admitted the
rest to be ransomed for five and twenty thousand ducats.

From thence they sailed to Carthagena, where the enemy having received
intelligence of the fate of St. Domingo, had strengthened their
fortifications, and prepared to defend themselves with great
obstinacy; but the English, landing in the night, came upon them by a
way which they did not suspect, and being better armed, partly by
surprise, and partly by superiority of order and valour, became
masters of the place, where they stayed without fear or danger six
weeks, and, at their departure, received a hundred and ten thousand
ducats, for the ransome of the town.

They afterwards took St. Augustin, and, touching at Virginia, took on
board the governour, Mr. Lane, with the English that had been left
there, the year before, by sir Walter Raleigh, and arrived at
Portsmouth on July 28, 1586, having lost in the voyage seven hundred
and fifty men. The gain of this expedition amounted to sixty thousand
pounds, of which forty were the share of the adventurers who fitted
out the ships, and the rest, distributed among the several crews,
amounted to six pounds each man. So cheaply is life sometimes
hazarded.

The transactions against the armada, 1588, are, in themselves, far
more memorable, but less necessary to be recited in this succinct
narrative; only let it be remembered, that the post of viceadmiral of
England, to which sir Francis Drake was then raised, is a sufficient
proof, that no obscurity of birth, or meanness of fortune, is
unsurmountable to bravery and diligence.

In 1595, sir Francis Drake and sir John Hawkins were sent with a fleet
to the West Indies, which expedition was only memorable for the
destruction of Nombre de Dios, and the death of the two commanders, of
whom sir Francis Drake died January 9, 1597, and was thrown into the
sea in a leaden coffin, with all the pomp of naval obsequies. It is
reported by some, that the ill success of this voyage hastened his
death. Upon what this conjecture is grounded does not appear; and we
may be allowed to hope, for the honour of so great a man, that it is
without foundation; and that he, whom no series of success could ever
betray to vanity or negligence, could have supported a change of
fortune without impatience or dejection.




BARRETIER [45].


Having not been able to procure materials for a complete life of Mr.
Barretier, and being, nevertheless, willing to gratify the curiosity
justly raised in the publick by his uncommon attainments, we think the
following extracts of letters written by his father, proper to be
inserted in our collection, as they contain many remarkable passages,
and exhibit a general view of his genius and learning.

John Philip Barretier was born at Schwabach, January 19, 1720-21. His
father was a calvinist minister of that place, who took upon himself
the care of his education. What arts of instruction he used, or by
what method he regulated the studies of his son, we are not able to
inform the publick; but take this opportunity of intreating those, who
have received more complete intelligence, not to deny mankind so great
a benefit as the improvement of education. If Mr. le Fêvre thought the
method in which he taught his children, worthy to be communicated to
the learned world, how justly may Mr. Barretier claim the universal
attention of mankind to a scheme of education that has produced such a
stupendous progress! The authors, who have endeavoured to teach
certain and unfailing rules for obtaining a long life, however they
have failed in their attempts, are universally confessed to have, at
least, the merit of a great and noble design, and to have deserved
gratitude and honour. How much more then is due to Mr. Barretier, who
has succeeded in what they have only attempted? for to prolong life,
and improve it, are nearly the same. If to have all that riches can
purchase, is to be rich; if to do all that can be done in a long time,
is to live long; he is equally a benefactor to mankind, who teaches
them to protract the duration, or shorten the business of life.

That there are few things more worthy our curiosity than this method,
by which the father assisted the genius of the son, every man will be
convinced, that considers the early proficiency at which it enabled
him to arrive; such a proficiency as no one has yet reached at the
same age, and to which it is, therefore, probable, that every
advantageous circumstance concurred.

_At the age of nine years he not only was master of five
languages_, an attainment in itself almost incredible, but
understood, says his father, the holy writers, better in their
original tongues, than in his own. If he means, by this assertion,
that he knew the sense of many passages in the original, which were
obscure in the translation, the account, however wonderful, may be
admitted; but if he intends to tell his correspondent, that his son
was better acquainted with the two languages of the Bible than with
his own, he must be allowed to speak hyperbolically, or to admit, that
his son had somewhat neglected the study of his native language; or we
must own, that the fondness of a parent has transported him into some
natural exaggerations.

Part of this letter I am tempted to suppress, being unwilling to
demand the belief of others to that which appears incredible to
myself; but as my incredulity may, perhaps, be the product rather of
prejudice than reason, as envy may beget a disinclination to admit so
immense a superiority, and as an account is not to be immediately
censured as false, merely because it is wonderful, I shall proceed to
give the rest of his father's relation, from his letter of the 3rd of
March, 1729-30. He speaks, continues he, German, Latin, and French,
equally well. He can, by laying before him a translation, read any of
the books of the Old or New Testament, in its original language,
without hesitation or perplexity. _He is no stranger to biblical
criticism_ or philosophy, nor unacquainted with ancient and modern
geography, and is qualified to support a conversation with learned
men, who frequently visit and correspond with him.

In his eleventh year, he not only published a learned letter in Latin,
but translated the travels of rabbi Benjamin from the Hebrew into
French, which he illustrated with notes, and accompanied with
dissertations; a work in which his father, as he himself declares,
could give him little assistance, as he did not understand the
rabbinical dialect.

The reason for which his father engaged him in this work, was only to
prevail upon him to write a fairer hand than he had hitherto
accustomed himself to do, by giving him hopes, that, if he should
translate some little author, and offer a fair copy of his version to
some bookseller, he might, in return for it, have other books which he
wanted and could not afford to purchase.

Incited by this expectation, he fixed upon the travels of rabbi
Benjamin, as most proper for his purpose, being a book neither bulky
nor common, and in one month completed his translation, applying only
one or two hours a day to that particular task. In another month, he
drew up the principal notes; and, in the third, wrote some
dissertations upon particular passages which seemed to require a
larger examination.

These notes contain so many curious remarks and inquiries, out of the
common road of learning, and afford so many instances of penetration,
judgment, and accuracy, that the reader finds, in every page, some
reason to persuade him that they cannot possibly be the work of a
child, but of a man long accustomed to these studies, enlightened by
reflection, and dextrous, by long practice, in the use of books. Yet,
that it is the performance of a boy thus young, is not only proved by
the testimony of his father, but by the concurrent evidence of Mr. le
Maître, his associate in the church of Schwabach, who not only asserts
his claim to this work, but affirms, that he heard him, at six years
of age, explain the Hebrew text, as if it had been his native
language; so that the fact is not to be doubted without, a degree of
incredulity, which it will not be very easy to defend.

This copy was, however, far from being written with the neatness which
his father desired; nor did the booksellers, to whom it was offered,
make proposals very agreeable to the expectations of the young
translator; but, after having examined the performance in their
manner, and determined to print it upon conditions not very
advantageous, returned it to be transcribed, that the printers might
not be embarrassed with a copy so difficult to read.

Barretier was now advanced to the latter end of his twelfth year, and
had made great advances in his studies, notwithstanding an obstinate
tumour in his left hand, which gave him great pain, and obliged him to
a tedious and troublesome method of cure; and reading over his
performance, was so far from contenting himself with barely
transcribing it, that he altered the greatest part of the notes,
new-modelled the dissertations, and augmented the book to twice its
former bulk.

The few touches which his father bestowed upon the revisal of the
book, though they are minutely set down by him in the preface, are so
inconsiderable, that it is not necessary to mention them; and it may
be much more agreeable, as well as useful, to exhibit the short
account which he there gives of the method by which he enabled his son
to show, so early, how easy an attainment is the knowledge of the
languages, a knowledge which some men spend their lives in
cultivating, to the neglect of more valuable studies, and which they
seem to regard as the highest perfection of human nature.

What applauses are due to an old age, wasted in a scrupulous attention
to particular accents and etymologies, may appear, says his father, by
seeing how little time is required to arrive at such an eminence in
these studies as many, even of these venerable doctors, have not
attained, for want of rational methods and regular application.

This censure is, doubtless, just, upon those who spend too much of
their lives upon useless niceties, or who appear to labour without
making any progress; but, as the knowledge of language is necessary,
and a minute accuracy sometimes requisite, they are by no means to be
blamed, who, in compliance with the particular bent of their own
minds, make the difficulties of dead languages their chief study, and
arrive at excellence proportionate to their application, since it was
to the labour of such men that his son was indebted for his own
learning.

The first languages which Barretier learned were the French, German,
and Latin, which he was taught, not in the common way, by a multitude
of definitions, rules, and exceptions, which fatigue the attention and
burden the memory, without any use proportionate to the time which
they require, and the disgust which they create. The method by which
he was instructed was easy and expeditious, and, therefore, pleasing.
He learned them all in the same manner, and almost at the same time,
by conversing in them indifferently with his father.

The other languages, of which he was master, he learned by a method
yet more uncommon. The only book which he made use of was the Bible,
which his father laid before him in the language that he then proposed
to learn, accompanied with a translation, being taught, by degrees,
the inflections of nouns and verbs. This method, says his father, made
the Latin more familiar to him, in his fourth year, than any other
language.

When he was near the end of his sixth year, he entered upon the study
of the Old Testament, in its original language, beginning with the
book of Genesis, to which his father confined him for six months;
after which he read cursorily over the rest of the historical books,
in which he found very little difficulty, and then applied himself to
the study of the poetical writers, and the prophets, which he read
over so often, with so close an attention, and so happy a memory, that
he could not only translate them, without a moment's hesitation, into
Latin or French, but turn, with the same facility, the translations
into the original language in his tenth year.

Growing, at length, weary of being confined to a book which he could
almost entirely repeat, he deviated, by stealth, into other studies,
and, as his translation of Benjamin is a sufficient evidence, he read
a multitude of writers, of various kinds. _In his twelfth year he
applied more particularly to the study of the fathers_, and
councils of the six first centuries, and began to make a regular
collection of their canons. He read every author in the original,
having discovered so much negligence or ignorance in most
translations, that he paid no regard to their authority.

Thus he continued his studies, neither drawn aside by pleasures nor
discouraged by difficulties. The greatest obstacle to his improvement
was want of books, with which his narrow fortune could not liberally
supply him; so that he was obliged to borrow the greatest part of
those which his studies required, and to return them when he had read
them, without being able to consult them occasionally, or to recur to
them when his memory should fail him.

It is observable, that neither his diligence, unintermitted as it was,
nor his want of books, a want of which he was, in the highest degree,
sensible, ever produced in him that asperity, which a long and recluse
life, without any circumstance of disquiet, frequently creates. He was
always gay, lively, and facetious; a temper which contributed much to
recommend his learning, and which some students, much superiour in
age, would consult their ease, their reputation, and their interest,
by copying from him.

In the year 1735 he published Anti-Artemonius; sive, initium evangelii
S. Joannis adversus Artemonium vindicatum; and attained such a degree
of reputation, that not only the publick, but _princes, who are
commonly the last_ by whom merit is distinguished, began to
interest themselves in his success; for, the same year, the king of
Prussia, who had heard of his early advances in literature, on account
of a scheme for discovering the longitude, which had been sent to the
Royal society of Berlin, and which was transmitted afterwards by him
to Paris and London, engaged to take care of his fortune, having
received further proofs of his abilities at his own court.

Mr. Barretier, being promoted to the cure of the church of Stetin, was
obliged to travel with his son thither, from Schwabach, through
Leipsic and Berlin, a journey very agreeable to his son, as it would
furnish him with new opportunities of improving his knowledge, and
extending his acquaintance among men of letters. For this purpose they
stayed some time at Leipsic, and then travelled to Halle, where young
Barretier so distinguished himself in his conversation with the
professors of the university, that they offered him his degree of
doctor in philosophy, a dignity correspondent to that of master of
arts among us. Barretier drew up, that night, some positions in
philosophy, and the mathematicks, which he sent immediately to the
press, and defended, the next day, in a crowded auditory, with so much
wit, spirit, presence of thought, and strength of reason, that the
whole university was delighted and amazed; he was then admitted to his
degree, and attended by the whole concourse to his lodgings, with
compliments and acclamations.

His theses, or philosophical positions, which he printed in compliance
with the practice of that university, ran through several editions in
a few weeks, and no testimony of regard was wanting, that could
contribute to animate him in his progress.

When they arrived at Berlin, the king ordered him to be brought into
his presence, and was so much pleased with his conversation, that he
sent for him almost every day during his stay at Berlin; and diverted
himself with engaging him in conversations upon a multitude of
subjects, and in disputes with learned men; on all which occasions he
acquitted himself so happily, that the king formed the highest ideas
of his capacity, and future eminence. And thinking, perhaps with
reason, that active life was the noblest sphere of a great genius, he
recommended to him the study of modern history, the customs of
nations, and those parts of learning, that are of use in publick
transactions and civil employments, declaring, that such abilities,
properly cultivated, might exalt him, in ten years, to be the greatest
minister of state in Europe.

Barretier, whether we attribute it to his moderation or inexperience,
was not dazzled by the prospect of such high promotion, but answered,
that _he was too much pleased with science and quiet_, to leave
them for such inextricable studies, or such harassing fatigues. A
resolution so unpleasing to the king, that his father attributes to it
the delay of those favours which they had hopes of receiving, the king
having, as he observes, determined to employ him in the ministry.

It is not impossible that paternal affection might suggest to Mr.
Barretier some false conceptions of the king's design; for he infers,
from the introduction of his son to the young princes, and the
caresses which he received from them, that the king intended him for
their preceptor; a scheme, says he, which some other resolution
happily destroyed.

Whatever was originally intended, and by whatever means these
intentions were frustrated, Barretier, after having been treated with
the highest regard by the whole royal family, was dismissed with a
present of two hundred crowns; and his father, instead of being fixed
at Stetin, was made pastor of the French church at Halle; a place more
commodious for study, to which they retired; Barretier being first
admitted into the Royal society at Berlin, and recommended, by the
king, to the university at Halle.

_At Halle he continued his studies_ with his usual application
and success, and, either by his own reflections, or the persuasions of
his father, was prevailed upon to give up his own inclinations to
those of the king, and direct his inquiries to those subjects that had
been recommended by him.

He continued to add new acquisitions to his learning, and to increase
his reputation by new performances, till, in the beginning of his
nineteenth year, his health began to decline, and his indisposition,
which, being not alarming or violent, was, perhaps, not at first
sufficiently regarded, increased by slow degrees for eighteen months,
during which he spent days among his books, and neither neglected his
studies, nor left his gaiety, till his distemper, ten days before his
death, deprived him of the use of his limbs: he then prepared himself
for his end, without fear or emotion, and, on the 5th of October,
1740, resigned his soul into the hands of his saviour, with
_confidence and tranquillity_.




In the Magazine for 1742 appeared the following

ADDITIONAL ACCOUNT of the LIFE OF JOHN PHILIP BARRETIER [46].


"As the nature of our collections requires that our accounts of
remarkable persons and transactions should be early, our readers must
necessarily pardon us, if they are often not complete, and allow us to
be sufficiently studious of their satisfaction, if we correct our
errours, and supply our defects from subsequent intelligence, where
the importance of the subject merits an extraordinary attention, or
when we have any peculiar opportunities of procuring information. The
particulars here inserted we thought proper to annex, by way of note,
to the following passages, quoted from the magazine for December,
1740, and for February, 1741. "

P. 377. _At the age of nine years he not only was master of five
languages. _

French, which was the native language of his mother, was that which he
learned first, mixed, by living in Germany, with some words of the
language of the country. After some time, his father took care to
introduce, in his conversation with him, some words of Latin, in such
a manner that he might discover the meaning of them by the connexion
of the sentence, or the occasion on which they were used, without
discovering that he had any intention of instructing him, or that any
new attainment was proposed.

By this method of conversation, in which new words were every day
introduced, his ear had been somewhat accustomed to the inflections
and variations of the Latin tongue, he began to attempt to speak like
his father, and was in a short time drawn on, by imperceptible
degrees, to speak Latin, intermixed with other languages.

Thus, when he was but four years old, he spoke every day French to his
mother, Latin to his father, and high Dutch to the maid, without any
perplexity to himself, or any confusion of one language with another.

P. 377. _He is no stranger to biblical criticism. _

Having now gained such a degree of skill in the Hebrew language, as to
be able to compose in it, both in prose and verse, he was extremely
desirous of reading the rabbins; and having borrowed of the
neighbouring clergy, and the jews of Schwabach, all the books which
they could supply him, he prevailed on his father to buy him the great
rabbinical Bible, published at Amsterdam, in four tomes, folio, 1728,
and read it with that accuracy and attention which appears, by the
account of it written by him to his favourite M. le Maitre, inserted
in the beginning of the twenty-sixth volume of the Bibliothéque
germanique.

These writers were read by him, as other young persons peruse romances
or novels, only from a puerile desire of amusement; for he had so
little veneration for them, even while he studied them with most
eagerness, that he often diverted his parents with recounting their
fables and chimeras.

P. 381. _In his twelfth year he applied more particularly to the
study of the fathers. _

His father being somewhat uneasy to observe so much time spent by him
on rabbinical trifles, thought it necessary now to recall him to the
study of the Greek language, which he had of late neglected, but to
which he returned with so much ardour, that, in a short time, he was
able to read Greek with the same facility as French or Latin.

He then engaged in the perusal of the Greek fathers, and councils of
the first three or four centuries; and undertook, at his father's
desire, to confute a treatise of Samuel Crellius, in which, under the
name of Artemonius, he has endeavoured to substitute, in the beginning
of St. John's gospel, a reading different from that which is at
present received, and less favourable to the orthodox doctrine of the
divinity of our Saviour.

This task was undertaken by Barretier with great ardour, and
prosecuted by him with suitable application, for he not only drew up a
formal confutation of Artemonius, but made large collections from the
earliest writers, relating to the history of heresies, which he
proposed at first to have published as preliminaries to his book, but,
finding the introduction grew at last to a greater bulk than the book
itself, he determined to publish it apart.

While he was engrossed by these inquiries, accident threw a pair of
globes into his hands, in October, 1734, by which his curiosity was so
much exalted, that he laid aside his Artemonius, and applied himself
to geography and astronomy. In ten days he was able to solve all the
problems in the doctrine of the globes, and had attained ideas so
clear and strong of all the systems, as well ancient as modern, that
he began to think of making new discoveries; and for that purpose,
laying aside, for a time, all searches into antiquity, he employed his
utmost interest to procure books of astronomy and of mathematicks, and
made such a progress in three or four months, that he seemed to have
spent his whole life upon that study; for he not only made an
astrolabe, and drew up astronomical tables, but invented new methods
of calculation, or such at least as appeared new to him, because they
were not mentioned in the books which he had then an opportunity of
reading; and it is a sufficient proof, both of the rapidity of his
progress, and the extent of his views, that in three months after his
first sight of a pair of globes, he formed schemes for finding the
longitude, which he sent, in January, 1735, to the Royal society at
London.

His scheme, being recommended to the society by the queen, was
considered by them with a degree of attention which, perhaps, would
not have been bestowed upon the attempt of a mathematician so young,
had he not been dignified with so illustrious a patronage. But it was
soon found, that, for want of books, he had imagined himself the
inventor of methods already in common use, and that he proposed no
means of discovering the longitude, but such as had been already tried
and found insufficient. Such will be very frequently the fate of
those, whose fortune either condemns them to study without the
necessary assistance from libraries, or who, in too much haste,
publish their discoveries.

This attempt exhibited, however, such a specimen of his capacity for
mathematical learning, and such a proof of an early proficiency, that
the Royal society of Berlin admitted him as one of their members in
1735.

P. 381. _Princes, who are commonly the last_.

Barretier, had been distinguished much more early by the margravin of
Anspach, who, in 1726, sent for his father and mother to the court,
where their son, whom they carried with them, presented her with a
letter in French, and addressed another in Latin to the young prince;
who afterwards, in 1734, granted him the privilege of borrowing books
from the libraries of Anspach, together with an annual pension of
fifty florins, which he enjoyed for four years.
In this place it may not be improper to recount some honours conferred
upon him, which, if distinctions are to be rated by the knowledge of
those who bestow them, may be considered as more valuable than those
which he received from princes.

In June, 1731, he was initiated in the university of Altdorft, and at
the end of the year 1732, the synod of the reformed churches, held at
Christian Erlang, admitted him to be present at their consultations,
and to preserve the memory of so extraordinary a transaction, as the
reception of a boy of eleven years into an ecclesiastical council,
recorded it in a particular article of the acts of the synod.

P. 383. _He was too much pleased with science and quiet_.

Astronomy was always Barretier's favourite study, and so much
engrossed his thoughts, that he did not willingly converse on any
other subject; nor was he so well pleased with the civilities of the
greatest persons, as with the conversation of the mathematicians. An
astronomical observation was sufficient to withhold him from court, or
to call him away abruptly from the most illustrious assemblies; nor
was there any hope of enjoying his company, without inviting some
professor to keep him in temper, and engage him in discourse; nor was
it possible, without this expedient, to prevail upon him to sit for
his picture.

Ibid. _At Halle he continued his studies. _

Mr. Barretier returned, on the 28th of April, 1735, to Halle, where he
continued the remaining part of his life, of which it may not be
improper to give a more particular account.

At his settlement in the university, he determined to exert his
privileges as master of arts, and to read publick lectures to the
students; a design from which his father could not dissuade him,
though he did not approve it; so certainly do honours or preferments,
too soon conferred, infatuate the greatest capacities. He published an
invitation to three lectures; one critical on the book of Job, another
on astronomy, and a third upon ancient ecclesiastical history. But of
this employment he was soon made weary by the petulance of his
auditors, the fatigue which it occasioned, and the interruption of his
studies which it produced, and, therefore, in a fortnight, he desisted
wholly from his lectures, and never afterwards resumed them.

He then applied himself to the study of the law, almost against his
own inclination, which, however, he conquered so far as to become a
regular attendant on the lectures on that science, but spent all his
other time upon different studies.

The first year of his residence at Halle was spent upon natural
philosophy and mathematicks; and scarcely any author, ancient or
modern, that has treated on those parts of learning was neglected by
him, nor was he satisfied with the knowledge of what had been
discovered by others, but made new observations, and drew up immense
calculations for his own use.

He then returned to ecclesiastical history, and began to retouch his
Account of Heresies, which he had begun at Schwabach: on this occasion
he read the primitive writers with great accuracy, and formed a
project of regulating the chronology of those ages; which produced a
Chrono-logical Dissertation on the succession of the Bishops of Rome,
from St. Peter to Victor, printed in Latin at Utrecht, 1740.

He afterwards was wholly absorbed in application to polite literature,
and read not only a multitude of writers in the Greek and Latin, but
in the German, Dutch, French, Italian, English, and Arabick languages,
and, in the last year of his life, he was engrossed by the study of
inscriptions, medals, and antiquities of all nations.

In 1737 he resumed his design of finding a certain method of
discovering the longitude, which he imagined himself to have attained
by exact observations of the declination and inclination of the
needle, and sent to the academy of sciences, and to the Royal society
of London, at the same time, an account of his schemes; to which it
was first answered by the Royal society, that it appeared the same
with one which Mr. Whiston had laid before them; and afterwards by the
academy of sciences, that his method was but very little different
from one that had been proposed by M. de la Croix, and which was
ingenious, but ineffectual.

Mr. Barretier, finding his invention already in the possession of two
men eminent for mathematical knowledge, desisted from all inquiries
after the longitude, and engaged in an examination of the Egyptian
antiquities, which he proposed to free from their present obscurity,
by deciphering the hieroglyphicks, and explaining their astronomy; but
this design was interrupted by his death.

P. 384. _Confidence and tranquillity_.

Thus died Barretier, in the 20th year of his age, having given a proof
how much may be performed in so short a time by indefatigable
diligence. He was not only master of many languages, but skilled
almost in every science, and capable of distinguishing himself in
every profession, except that of physick, from which he had been
discouraged by remarking the diversity of opinions among those who had
been consulted concerning his own disorders.

His learning, however vast, had not depressed or overburdened his
natural faculties, for his genius always appeared predominant; and
when he inquired into the various opinions of the writers of all ages,
he reasoned and determined for himself, having a mind at once
comprehensive and delicate, active and attentive. He was able to
reason with the metaphysicians on the most abstruse questions, or to
enliven the most unpleasing subjects by the gaiety of his fancy. He
wrote with great elegance and dignity of style, and had the peculiar
felicity of readiness and facility in every thing that he undertook,
being able, without premeditation, to translate one language into
another. He was no imitator, but struck out new tracks, and formed
original systems. He had a quickness of apprehension, and firmness of
memory, which enabled him to read with incredible rapidity, and, at
the same time, to retain what he read, so as to be able to recollect
and apply it. He turned over volumes in an instant, and selected what
was useful for his purpose. He seldom made extracts, except of books
which he could not procure when he might want them a second time,
being always able to find in any author, with great expedition, what
he had once read. He read over, in one winter, twenty vast folios; and
the catalogue of books which he had borrowed, comprised forty-one
pages in quarto, the writing close, and the titles abridged. He was a
constant reader of literary journals.

With regard to common life he had some peculiarities. He could not
bear musick, and if he was ever engaged at play could not attend to
it. He neither loved wine nor entertainments, nor dancing, nor the
sports of the field, nor relieved his studies with any other diversion
than that of walking and conversation. He eat little flesh, and lived
almost wholly upon milk, tea, bread, fruits, and sweetmeats.

He had great vivacity in his imagination, and ardour in his desires,
which the easy method of his education had never repressed; he,
therefore, conversed among those who had gained his confidence with
great freedom, but his favourites were not numerous, and to others he
was always reserved and silent, without the least inclination to
discover his sentiments, or display his learning. He never fixed his
choice upon any employment, nor confined his views to any profession,
being desirous of nothing but knowledge, and entirely untainted with
avarice or ambition. He preserved himself always independent, and was
never known to be guilty of a lie. His constant application to
learning suppressed those passions which betray others of his age to
irregularities, and excluded all those temptations to which men are
exposed by idleness or common amusements.




MORIN [47].


Lewis Morin was born at Mans, on the 11th of July, 1635, of parents
eminent for their piety. He was the eldest of sixteen children; a
family to which their estate bore no proportion, and which, in persons
less resigned to providence, would have caused great uneasiness and
anxiety.

His parents omitted nothing in his education, which religion requires,
and which their fortune could supply. Botany was the study that
appeared to have taken possession of his inclination, as soon as the
bent of his genius could be discovered. A countryman, who supplied the
apothecaries of the place, was his first master, and was paid by him
for his instructions with the little money that he could procure, or
that which was given him to buy something to eat after dinner. Thus
abstinence and generosity discovered themselves with his passion for
botany, and the gratification of a desire indifferent in itself, was
procured by the exercise of two virtues.

He was soon master of all his instructer's knowledge, and was obliged
to enlarge his acquaintance with plants, by observing them himself in
the neighbourhood of Mans. Having finished his grammatical studies, he
was sent to learn philosophy at Paris, whither he travelled on foot
like a student in botany, and was careful not to lose such an
opportunity of improvement.

When his course of philosophy was completed, he was determined, by his
love of botany, to the profession of physick, and, from that time,
engaged in a course of life, which was never exceeded, either by the
ostentation of a philosopher, or the severity of an anchoret; for he
confined himself to bread and water, and, at most, allowed himself no
indulgence beyond fruits. By this method, he preserved a constant
freedom and serenity of spirits, always equally proper for study; for
his soul had no pretences to complain of being overwhelmed with
matter. This regimen, extraordinary as it was, had many advantages;
for it preserved his health, an advantage which very few sufficiently
regard; it gave him an authority to preach diet and abstinence to his
patients; and it made him rich without the assistance of fortune;
rich, not for himself, but for the poor, who were the only persons
benefited by that artificial affluence, which, of all others, is most
difficult to acquire. It is easy to imagine, that, while he practised
in the midst of Paris the severe temperance of a hermit, Paris
differed no otherwise, with regard to him, from a hermitage, than as
it supplied him with books and the conversation of learned men.

In 1662, he was admitted doctor of physick. About that time Dr. Fagon,
Dr. Longuet, and Dr. Galois, all eminent for their skill in botany,
were employed in drawing up a catalogue of the plants in the Royal
garden, which was published in 1665, under the name of Dr. Vallot,
then first physician: during the prosecution of this work, Dr. Morin
was often consulted, and from those conversations it was that Dr.
Fagon conceived a particular esteem of him, which he always continued
to retain.

After having practised physick some years, he was admitted
_expectant_ at the Hôtel-Dieu, where he was regularly to have
been made pensionary physician upon the first vacancy; but mere
unassisted merit advances slowly, if, what is not very common, it
advances at all. Morin had no acquaintance with the arts necessary to
carry on schemes of preferment; the moderation of his desires
preserved him from the necessity of studying them, and the privacy of
his life debarred him from any opportunity. At last, however, justice
was done him, in spite of artifice and partiality; but his advancement
added nothing to his condition, except the power of more extensive
charity; for all the money which he received, as a salary, he put into
the chest of the hospital, always, as he imagined, without being
observed. Not content with serving the poor for nothing, he paid them
for being served.

His reputation rose so high in Paris, that mademoiselle de Guise was
desirous to make him her physician; but it was not without difficulty
that he was prevailed upon by his friend, Dr. Dodart, to accept the
place. He was by this new advancement laid under the necessity of
keeping a chariot, an equipage very unsuitable to his temper; but
while he complied with those exterior appearances, which the publick
had a right to demand from him, he remitted nothing of his former
austerity, in the more private and essential parts of his life, which
he had always the power of regulating according to his own
disposition.

In two years and a half the princess fell sick, and was despaired of
by Morin, who was a great master of prognosticks. At the time when she
thought herself in no danger he pronounced her death inevitable; a
declaration to the highest degree disagreeable, but which was made
more easy to him than to any other, by his piety and artless
simplicity. Nor did his sincerity produce any ill consequences to
himself; for the princess, affected by his zeal, taking a ring from
her finger, gave it him, as the last pledge of her affection, and
rewarded him still more to his satisfaction, by preparing for death
with a true Christian piety. She left him, by will, a yearly pension
of two thousand livres, which was always regularly paid him.

No sooner was the princess dead, but he freed himself from the
encumbrance of his chariot, and retired to St. Victor, without a
servant; having, however, augmented his daily allowance with a little
rice, boiled in water. Dodart, who had undertaken the charge of being
ambitious on his account, procured him, at the restoration of the
academy, in 1699, to be nominated associate botanist; not knowing,
what he would doubtless have been pleased with the knowledge of, that
he introduced into that assembly the man that was to succeed him in
his place of _pensionary_.

Dr. Morin was not one who had upon his hands the labour of adapting
himself to the duties of his condition, but always found himself
naturally adapted to them. He had, therefore, no difficulty in being
constant at the assemblies of the academy, notwithstanding the
distance of places, while he had strength enough to support the
journey. But his regimen was not equally effectual to produce vigour
as to prevent distempers; and, being sixty-four years old at his
admission, he could not continue his assiduity more than a year after
the death of Dodart, whom he succeeded in 1707.

When Mr. Tournefort went to pursue his botanical inquiries in the
Levant, he desired Dr. Morin to supply his place of demonstrator of
the plants in the Royal garden, and rewarded him for the trouble, by
inscribing to him a new plant, which he brought from the east, by the
name of Morina orientalis, as he named others the Do-darto, the
Fagonne, the Bignonne, the Phelipée. These are compliments proper to
be made by the botanists, not only to those of their own rank, but to
the greatest persons; for a plant is a monument of a more durable
nature than a medal or an obelisk; and yet, as a proof that even these
vehicles are not always sufficient to transmit to futurity the name
conjoined with them, the Nicotiana is now scarcely known by any other
name than that of tobacco.

Dr. Morin, advancing far in age, was now forced to take a servant,
and, what was yet a more essential alteration, prevailed upon himself
to take an ounce of wine a day, which he measured with the same
exactness as a medicine bordering upon poison. He quitted, at the same
time, all his practice in the city, and confined it to the poor of his
neighbourhood, and his visits to the Hôtel-Dieu; but his weakness
increasing, he was forced to increase his quantity of wine, which yet
he always continued to adjust by weight [48].

At seventy-eight his legs could carry him no longer, and he scarcely
left his bed; but his intellects continued unimpaired, except in the
last six months of his life. He expired, or, to use a more proper
term, went out, on the 1st of March, 1714, at the age of eighty years,
without any distemper, and merely for want of strength, having
enjoyed, by the benefit of his regimen, a long and healthy life, and a
gentle and easy death.

This extraordinary regimen was but part of the daily regulation of his
life, of which all the offices were carried on with a regularity and
exactness nearly approaching to that of the planetary motions.

He went to bed at seven, and rose at two, throughout the year. He
spent, in the morning, three hours at his devotions, and went to the
Hôtel-Dieu, in the summer, between five and six, and, in the winter,
between six and seven, hearing mass, for the most part, at Notre Dame.
After his return he read the holy scripture, dined at eleven, and,
when it was fair weather, walked till two in the Royal garden, where
he examined the new plants, and gratified his earliest and strongest
passion. For the remaining part of the day, if he had no poor to
visit, he shut himself up, and read books of literature or physick,
but chiefly physick, as the duty of his profession required. This,
likewise, was the time he received visits, if any were paid him. He
often used this expression: "Those that come to see me, do me honour;
those that stay away, do me a favour. " It is easy to conceive, that a
man of this temper was not crowded with salutations: there was only
now and then an Antony that would pay Paul a visit.

Among his papers was found a Greek and Latin index to Hippocrates,
more copious and exact than that of Pini, which he had finished only a
year before his death. Such a work required the assiduity and patience
of a hermit [49]. There is, likewise, a journal of the weather, kept
without interruption, for more than forty years, in which he has
accurately set down the state of the barometer and thermometer, the
dryness and moisture of the air, the variations of the wind in the
course of the day, the rain, the thunders, and even the sudden storms,
in a very commodious and concise method, which exhibits, in a little
room, a great train of different observations. What numbers of such
remarks had escaped a man less uniform in his life, and whose
attention had been extended to common objects!

All the estate which he left is a collection of medals, another of
herbs, and a library rated at two thousand crowns; which make it
evident that he spent much more upon his mind than upon his body.




BURMAN [50].


Peter Burman was born at Utrecht, on the 26th day of June, 1668. The
family from which he descended has, for several generations, produced
men of great eminence for piety and learning; and his father, who was
professor of divinity in the university, and pastor of the city of
Utrech't, was equally celebrated for the strictness of his life, the
efficacy and orthodoxy of his sermons, and the learning and
perspicuity of his academical lectures.

From the assistance and instruction which such a father would
doubtless have been encouraged by the genius of this son not to have
omitted, he was unhappily cut off at eleven years of age, being at
that time, by his father's death, thrown entirely under the care of
his mother, by whose diligence, piety, and prudence, his education was
so regulated, that he had scarcely any reason, but filial tenderness,
to regret the loss of his father.

He was, about this time, sent to the publick school of Utrecht, to be
instructed in the learned languages; and it will convey no common idea
of his capacity and industry to relate, that he had passed through the
classes, and was admitted into the university in his thirteenth year.

This account of the rapidity of his progress in the first part of his
studies is so stupendous, that, though it is attested by his friend,
Dr. Osterdyke, of whom it cannot be reasonably suspected that he is
himself deceived, or that he can desire to deceive others, it must be
allowed far to exceed the limits of probability, if it be considered,
with regard to the methods of education practised in our country,
where it is not uncommon for the highest genius, and most
comprehensive capacity, to be entangled for ten years, in those thorny
paths of literature, which Burman is represented to have passed in
less than two; and we must, doubtless, confess the most skilful of our
masters much excelled by the address of the Dutch teachers, or the
abilities of our greatest scholars far surpassed by those of Burinan.

But, to reduce this narrative to credibility, it is necessary that
admiration should give place to inquiry, and that it be discovered
what proficiency in literature is expected from a student, requesting
to be admitted into a Dutch university. It is to be observed, that in
the universities of foreign countries, they have professors of
philology, or humanity, whose employment is to instruct the younger
classes in grammar, rhetorick, and languages; nor do they engage in
the study of philosophy, till they have passed through a course of
philological lectures and exercises, to which, in some places, two
years are commonly allotted.

The English scheme of education, which, with regard to academical
studies, is more rigorous, and sets literary honours at a higher price
than that of any other country, exacts from the youth, who are
initiated in our colleges, a degree of philological knowledge
sufficient to qualify them for lectures in philosophy, which are read
to them in Latin, and to enable them to proceed in other studies
without assistance; so that it may be conjectured, that Burman, at his
entrance into the university, had no such skill in languages, nor such
ability of composition, as are frequently to be met with in the higher
classes of an English school; nor was, perhaps, more than moderately
skilled in Latin, and taught the first rudiments of Greek.

In the university he was committed to the care of the learned Grævius,
whose regard for his father inclined him to superintend his studies
with more than common attention, which was soon confirmed and
increased by his discoveries of the genius of his pupil, and his
observation of his diligence.

One of the qualities which contributed eminently to qualify Grævius
for an instructor of youth, was the sagacity by which he readily
discovered the predominant faculty of each pupil, and the peculiar
designation by which nature had allotted him to any species of
literature, and by which he was soon able to determine, that Burman
was remarkably adapted to classical studies, and predict the great
advances that he would make, by industriously pursuing the direction
of his genius.

Animated by the encouragement of a tutor so celebrated, he continued
the vigour of his application, and, for several years, not only
attended the lectures of Grævius, but made use of every other
opportunity of improvement, with such diligence as might justly be
expected to produce an uncommon proficiency.

Having thus attained a sufficient degree of classical knowledge to
qualify him for inquiries into other sciences, he applied himself to
the study of the law, and published a dissertation, de Vicesima
Hæreditatum, which he publickly defended, under the professor Van
Muyden, with such learning and eloquence, as procured him great
applause.

Imagining, then, that the conversation of other men of learning might
be of use towards his further improvement, and rightly judging that
notions formed in any single seminary are, for the greatest part,
contracted and partial, he went to Leyden, where he studied philosophy
for a year, under M. de Volder, whose celebrity was so great, that the
schools assigned to the sciences, which it was his province to teach,
were not sufficient, though very spacious, to contain the audience
that crowded his lectures from all parts of Europe.

Yet he did not suffer himself to be engrossed by philosophical
disquisitions, to the neglect of those studies in which he was more
early engaged, and to which he was, perhaps, by nature better adapted;
for he attended at the same time Ryckius's explanations of Tacitus,
and James Gronovius's lectures on the Greek writers, and has often
been heard to acknowledge, at an advanced age, the assistance which he
received from them.

Having thus passed a year at Leyden with great advantage, he returned
to Utrecht, and once more applied himself to philological studies, by
the assistance of Grævius, whose early hopes of his genius were now
raised to a full confidence of that excellence, at which he afterwards
arrived.

At Utrecht, in March, 1688, in the twentieth year of his age, he was
advanced to the degree of doctor of laws; on which occasion he
published a learned dissertation, de Transactionibus, and defended it
with his usual eloquence, learning, and success.

The attainment of this honour was far from having upon Burman that
effect which has been too often observed to be produced in others,
who, having in their own opinion no higher object of ambition, have
relapsed into idleness and security, and spent the rest of their lives
in a lazy enjoyment of their academical dignities. Burman aspired to
further improvements, and, not satisfied with the opportunities of
literary conversation which Utrecht afforded, travelled into
Switzerland and Germany, where he gained an increase both of fame and
learning.

At his return from this excursion, he engaged in the practice of the
law, and pleaded several causes with such reputation, as might be
hoped by a man who had joined to his knowledge of the law, the
embellishments of polite literature, and the strict ratiocination of
true philosophy; and who was able to employ, on every occasion, the
graces of eloquence and the power of argumentation.

While Burman was hastening to high reputation in the courts of
justice, and to those riches and honours which always follow it, he
was summoned, in 1691, by the magistrates of Utrecht, to undertake the
charge of collector of the tenths, an office, in that place, of great
honour, and which he accepted, therefore, as a proof of their
confidence and esteem.

While he was engaged in this employment, he married Eve Clotterboke, a
young lady of a good family, and uncommon genius and beauty, by whom
he had ten children, of which eight died young; and only two sons,
Francis and Caspar, lived to console their mother for their father's
death.

Neither publick business nor domestick cares detained Burman from the
prosecution of his literary inquiries; by which he so much endeared
himself to Grævius, that he Was recommended by him to the regard of
the university of Utrecht, and, accordingly, in 1696, was chosen
professor of eloquence and history, to which was added, after some
time, the professorship of the Greek language, and afterwards that of
politicks; so various did they conceive his abilities, and so
extensive his knowledge.

At his entrance upon this new province, he pronounced an oration upon
eloquence and poetry.

Having now more frequent opportunities of displaying his learning, he
arose, in a short time, to a high reputation, of which the great
number of his auditors was a sufficient proof, and which the
proficiency of his pupils showed not to be accidental or undeserved.

In 1714, he formed a resolution of visiting Paris, not only for the
sake of conferring, in person, upon questions of literature, with the
learned men of that place, and of gratifying his curiosity with a more
familiar knowledge of those writers whose works he admired, but with a
view more important, of visiting the libraries, and making those
inquiries which might be of advantage to his darling study.

The vacation of the university allowed him to stay at Paris but six
weeks, which he employed with so much dexterity and industry, that he
had searched the principal libraries, collated a great number of
manuscripts and printed copies, and brought back a great treasure of
curious observations.

In this visit to Paris he contracted an acquaintance, among other
learned men, with the celebrated father Montfaucon; with whom he
conversed, at his first interview, with no other character but that of
a traveller; but, their discourse turning upon ancient learning, the
stranger soon gave such proofs of his attainments, that Montfaucon
declared him a very uncommon traveller, and confessed his curiosity to
know his name; which he no sooner heard, than he rose from his seat,
and, embracing him with the utmost ardour, expressed his satisfaction
at having seen the man whose productions of various kinds he had so
often praised; and, as a real proof of his regard, offered not only to
procure him an immediate admission to all the libraries of Paris, but
to those in remoter provinces, which are not generally open to
strangers, and undertook to ease the expenses of his journey, by
procuring him entertainment in all the monasteries of his order.

This favour Burman was hindered from accepting, by the necessity of
returning to Utrecht at the usual time of beginning a new course of
lectures, to which there was always so great a concourse of students,
as much increased the dignity and fame of the university in which he
taught.

He had already extended to distant parts his reputation for knowledge
of ancient history, by a treatise, de Vectigalibus Populi Romani, on
the revenues of the Romans; and for his skill in Greek learning, and
in ancient coins, by a tract called Jupiter Fulgurator; and after his
return from Paris, he published Plædrus, first with the notes of
various commentators, and afterwards with his own. He printed many
poems, made many orations upon different subjects, and procured an
impression of the epistles of Gudius and Sanavius.

While he was thus employed, the professorships of history, eloquence,
and the Greek language, became vacant at Leyden, by the death of
Perizonius, which Burman's reputation incited the curators of the
university to offer him upon very generous terms, and which, after
some struggles with his fondness for his native place, his friends,
and his colleagues, he was prevailed on to accept, finding the
solicitations from Leyden warm and urgent, and his friends at Utrecht,
though unwilling to be deprived of him, yet not zealous enough for the
honour and advantage of their university, to endeavour to detain him
by great liberality.

At his entrance upon this new professorship, which was conferred upon
him in 1715, he pronounced an oration upon the duty and office of a
professor of polite literature; de publici humanioris disciplinæ
professoris proprio officio et munere; and showed, by the usefulness
and perspicuity of his lectures, that he was not confined to
speculative notions on that subject, having a very happy method of
accommodating his instructions to the different abilities and
attainments of his pupils.

Nor did he suffer the publick duties of this station to hinder him
from promoting learning by labours of a different kind; for, besides
many poems and orations, which he recited on different occasions, he
wrote several prefaces to the works of others, and published many
useful editions of the best Latin writers, with large collections of
notes from various commentators.

He was twice rector, or chief governour of the university, and
discharged that important office with equal equity and ability, and
gained, by his conduct in every station, so much esteem, that when the
professorship of history of the United Provinces became vacant, it was
conferred on him, as an addition to his honours and revenues, which he
might justly claim; and afterwards, as a proof of the continuance of
their regard, and a testimony that his reputation was still
increasing, they made him chief librarian, an office which was the
more acceptable to him, as it united his business with his pleasure,
and gave him an opportunity, at the same time, of superintending the
library, and carrying on his studies.

Such was the course of his life, till, in his old age, leaving off his
practice of walking, and other exercises, he began to be afflicted
with the scurvy, which discovered itself by very tormenting symptoms
of various kinds; sometimes disturbing his head with vertigos,
sometimes causing faintness in his limbs, and sometimes attacking his
legs with anguish so excruciating, that all his vigour was destroyed,
and the power of walking entirely taken away, till, at length, his
left foot became motionless. The violence of his pain produced
irregular fevers, deprived him of rest, and entirely debilitated his
whole frame.

This tormenting disease he bore, though not without some degree of
impatience, yet without any unbecoming or irrational despondency, and
applied himself in the intermission of his pains to seek for comfort
in the duties of religion.

While he lay in this state of misery he received an account of the
promotion of two of his grandsons, and a catalogue of the king of
France's library, presented to him by the command of the king himself,
and expressed some satisfaction on all these occasions; but soon
diverted his thoughts to the more important consideration of his
eternal state, into which he passed on the 31st of March, 1741, in the
seventy-third year of his age.

He was a man of moderate stature, of great strength and activity,
which he preserved by temperate diet, without medical exactness, and
by allotting proportions of his time to relaxation and amusement, not
suffering his studies to exhaust his strength, but relieving them by
frequent intermissions; a practice consistent with the most exemplary
diligence, and which he that omits will find at last, that time may be
lost, like money, by unseasonable avarice.

In his hours of relaxation he was gay, and sometimes gave way so far
to his temper, naturally satirical, that he drew upon himself the
ill-will of those who had been unfortunately the subjects of his
mirth; but enemies so provoked, he thought it beneath him to regard or
to pacify; for he was fiery, but not malicious, disdained
dissimulation, and in his gay or serious hours, preserved a settled
detestation of falsehood. So that he was an open and undisguised
friend or enemy, entirely unacquainted with the artifices of
flatterers, but so judicious in the choice of friends, and so constant
in his affection to them, that those with whom he had contracted
familiarity in his youth, had, for the greatest part, his confidence
in his old age.

His abilities, which would probably have enabled him to have excelled
in any kind of learning, were chiefly employed, as his station
required, on polite literature, in which he arrived at very uncommon
knowledge; which, however, appears rather from judicious compilations,
than original productions. His style is lively and masculine, but not
without harshness and constraint, nor, perhaps, always polished to
that purity, which some writers have attained. He was at least
instrumental to the instruction of mankind, by the publication of many
valuable performances, which lay neglected by the greatest part of the
learned world; and, if reputation be estimated by usefulness, he may
claim a higher degree in the ranks of learning, than some others of
happier elocution, or more vigorous imagination.

The malice or suspicion of those who either did not know, or did not
love him, had given rise to some doubts about his religion, which he
took an opportunity of removing on his death-bed, by a voluntary
declaration of his faith, his hope of everlasting salvation from the
revealed promises of God, and his confidence in the merits of our
Redeemer, of the sincerity of which declaration his whole behaviour in
his long illness was an incontestable proof; and he concluded his
life, which had been illustrious for many virtues, by exhibiting an
example of true piety.

Of his works we have not been able to procure a complete catalogue: he
published, Quintilianus, 2 vols. 4to; Valerius Flaccus; Ovidius, 4
vols. 4to; Poetæ Latini Minores, 2 vols. 4to; cum notis variorum.
Buchanani Opera, 2 vols. 4to [51].




SYDENHAM [52].


Thomas Sydenham was born in the year 1624, at Windford Eagle, in
Dorsetshire, where his father, William Sydenham, esq. had a large
fortune. Under whose care he was educated, or in what manner he passed
his childhood, whether he made any early discoveries of a genius
peculiarly adapted to the study of nature, or gave any presages of his
future eminence in medicine, no information is to be obtained. We
must, therefore, repress that curiosity, which would naturally incline
us to watch the first attempts of so vigorous a mind, to pursue it in
its childish inquiries, and see it struggling with rustick prejudices,
breaking, on trifling occasions, the shackles of credulity, and giving
proofs, in its casual excursions, that it was formed to shake off the
yoke of prescription, and dispel the phantoms of hypothesis.

That the strength of Sydenham's understanding, the accuracy of his
discernment, and ardour of his curiosity, might have been remarked
from his infancy by a diligent observer, there is no reason to doubt;
for there is no instance of any man, whose history has been minutely
related, that did not, in every part of life, discover the same
proportion of intellectual vigour; but it has been the lot of the
greatest part of those who have excelled in science, to be known only
by their own writings, and to have left behind them no remembrance of
their domestick life, or private transactions, or only such memorials
of particular passages as are, on certain occasions, necessarily
recorded in publick registers.

From these it is discovered, that, at the age of eighteen, in 1642, he
commenced a commoner of Magdalen hall, in Oxford, where it is not
probable that he continued long; for he informs us himself, that he
was withheld from the university by the commencement of the war; nor
is it known in what state of life he engaged, or where he resided
during that long series of publick commotion. It is, indeed, reported,
that he had a commission in the king's army, but no particular account
is given of his military conduct; nor are we told what rank he
obtained, when he entered into the army, or when, or on what occasion,
he retired from it.

It is, however, certain, that if ever he took upon him the profession
of arms, he spent but few years in the camp; for, in 1648, he
obtained, at Oxford, the degree of bachelor of physick, for which, as
some medicinal knowledge is necessary, it may be imagined that he
spent some time in qualifying himself.

His application to the study of physick was, as he himself relates,
produced by an accidental acquaintance with Dr. Cox, a physician,
eminent at that time in London, who in some sickness prescribed to his
brother, and attending him frequently on that occasion, inquired of
him what profession he designed to follow. The young man answering
that he was undetermined, the doctor recommended physick to him, on
what account, or with what arguments, it is not related; but his
persuasions were so effectual, that Sydenham determined to follow his
advice, and retired to Oxford for leisure and opportunity to pursue
his studies.

It is evident that this conversation must have happened before his
promotion to any degree in physick, because he himself fixes it in the
interval of his absence from the university, a circumstance which will
enable us to confute many false reports relating to Dr. Sydenham,
which have been confidently inculcated, and implicitly believed. It is
the general opinion, that he was made a physician by accident and
necessity, and sir Richard Blackmore reports, in plain terms, [preface
to his Treatise on the Small Pox,] that he engaged in practice,
without any preparatory study, or previous knowledge, of the medicinal
sciences; and affirms, that when he was consulted by him what books he
should read to qualify him for the same profession, he recommended Don
Quixote.

That he recommended Don Quixote to Blackmore, we are not allowed to
doubt; but the relater is hindered by that self-love, which dazzles
all mankind, from discovering that he might intend a satire very
different from a general censure of all the ancient and modern writers
on medicine, since he might, perhaps, mean, either seriously or in
jest, to insinuate, that Blackmore was not adapted by nature to the
study of physick, and that, whether he should read Cervantes or
Hippocrates, he would be equally unqualified for practice, and equally
unsuccessful in it.

Whatsoever was his meaning, nothing is more evident, than that it was
a transient sally of an imagination warmed with gaiety, or the
negligent effusion of a mind intent upon some other employment, and in
haste to dismiss a troublesome intruder; for it is certain that
Sydenham did not think it impossible to write usefully on medicine,
because he has himself written upon it; and it is not probable that he
carried his vanity so far, as to imagine that no man had ever acquired
the same qualifications besides himself. He could not but know that he
rather restored, than invented most of his principles, and, therefore,
could not but acknowledge the value of those writers whose doctrines
he adopted and enforced.

That he engaged in the practice of physick without any acquaintance
with the theory, or knowledge of the opinions or precepts of former
writers, is undoubtedly false; for he declares, that, after he had, in
pursuance of his conversation with Dr. Cox, determined upon the
profession of physick, he "applied himself in earnest to it, and spent
several years in the university," (aliquot annos in academica
palæstra,) before he began to practise in London.

Nor was he satisfied with the opportunities of knowledge which Oxford
afforded, but travelled to Montpellier, as Désault relates,
[Dissertation on Consumptions,] in quest of further information;
Montpellier, being at that time, the most celebrated school of
physick: so far was Sydenham from any contempt of academical
institutions, and so far from thinking it reasonable to learn physick
by experiments alone, which must necessarily be made at the hazard of
life.

What can be demanded beyond this by the most zealous advocate for
regular education? What can be expected from the most cautious and
most industrious student, than that he should dedicate several years
to the rudiments of his art, and travel for further instructions from
one university to another?

It is likewise a common opinion, that Sydenham was thirty years old,
before he formed his resolution of studying physick, for which I can
discover no other foundation than one expression in his dedication to
Dr. Mapletoft, which seems to have given rise to it, by a gross
misinterpretation; for he only observes, that from his conversation
with Dr. Cox to the publication of that treatise, thirty years had
intervened.

Whatever may have produced this notion, or how long soever it may have
prevailed, it is now proved, beyond controversy, to be false; since it
appears that Sydenham, having been for some time absent from the
university, returned to it, in order to pursue his physical inquiries,
before he was twenty-four years old; for, in 1648, he was admitted to
the degree of bachelor of physick.

That such reports should be confidently spread, even among the
contemporaries of the author to whom they relate, and obtain, in a few
years, such credit as to require a regular confutation; that it should
be imagined that the greatest physician of the age arrived at so high
a degree of skill, without any assistance from his predecessors; and
that a man, eminent for integrity, practised medicine by chance, and
grew wise only by murder; is not to be considered without
astonishment.

But if it be, on the other part, remembered, how much this opinion
favours the laziness of some, and the pride of others; how readily
some men confide in natural sagacity; and how willingly most would
spare themselves the labour of accurate reading and tedious inquiry;
it will be easily discovered, how much the interest of multitudes was
engaged in the production and continuance of this opinion, and how
cheaply those, of whom it was known that they practised physick before
they studied it, might satisfy themselves and others with the example
of the illustrious Sydenham.

It is, therefore, in an uncommon degree useful to publish a true
account of this memorable man, that pride, temerity, and idleness, may
be deprived of that patronage which they have enjoyed too long; that
life may be secured from the dangerous experiments of the ignorant and
presumptuous; and that those, who shall, hereafter, assume the
important province of superintending the health of others, may learn,
from this great master of the art, that the only means of arriving at
eminence and success are labour and study.

From these false reports it is probable that another arose, to which,
though it cannot be with equal certainty confuted, it does not appear
that entire credit ought to be given. The acquisition of a Latin style
did not seem consistent with the manner of life imputed to him; nor
was it probable, that he, who had so diligently cultivated the
ornamental parts of general literature, would have neglected the
essential studies of his own profession. Those, therefore, who were
determined, at whatever price, to retain him in their own party, and
represent him equally ignorant and daring with themselves, denied him
the credit of writing his own works in the language in which they were
published, and asserted, but without proof, that they were composed by
him in English, and translated into Latin by Dr. Mapletoft.

Whether Dr. Mapletoft lived and was familiar with him, during the
whole time in which these several treatises were printed, treatises
written on particular occasions, and printed at periods considerably
distant from each other, we have had no opportunity of inquiring, and,
therefore, cannot demonstrate the falsehood of this report; but if it
be considered how unlikely it is, that any man should engage in a work
so laborious and so little necessary, only to advance the reputation
of another, or that he should have leisure to continue the same office
upon all following occasions; if it be remembered how seldom such
literary combinations are formed, and how soon they are, for the
greatest part, dissolved, there will appear no reason for not allowing
Dr. Sydenham the laurel of eloquence, as well as physick [53].

It is observable, that his Processus Integri, published after his
death, discovers alone more skill in the Latin language than is
commonly ascribed to him; and it surely will not be suspected, that
the officiousness of his friends was continued after his death, or
that he procured the book to be translated, only that, by leaving it
behind him, he might secure his claim to his other writings.

It is asserted by sir Hans Sloane, that Dr. Sydenham, with whom he was
familiarly acquainted, was particularly versed in the writings of the
great Roman orator and philosopher; and there is evidently such a
luxuriance in his style, as may discover the author which gave him
most pleasure, and most engaged his imitation.