I am not
purposed
to devise you other new sports.
Literary and Philosophical Essays- French, German and Italian by Immanuel Kant
Of my selfe, I am not
much given to melancholy, but rather to dreaming and sluggishness.
There is nothing wherewith I have ever more entertained my selfe,
than with the imaginations of death, yea in the most licentious
times of my age.
Iucundum, cum atas florida ver ageret
[Footnote: Catul. Eleg. iv. 16. ]
When my age flourishing
Did spend its pleasant spring.
Being amongst faire Ladies, and in earnest play, some have thought
me busied, or musing with my selfe, how to digest some jealousie, or
meditating on the uncertaintie of some conceived hope, when God he
knowes, I was entertaining my selfe with the remembrance of some one
or other, that but few daies before was taken with a burning fever,
and of his sodaine end, comming from such a feast or meeting where I
was my selfe, and with his head full of idle conceits, of lore, and
merry glee; supposing the same, either sickness or end, to be as
neere me as him.
Iam fuerit, nec post, unquam revocare licebit.
[Footnote: Lucr. I. iii. 947. ]
Now time would be, no more You can this time restore.
I did no more trouble my selfe or frowne at such conceit, [Idea. ]
than at any other. It is impossible we should not apprehend or feele
some motions or startings at such imaginations at the first, and
comming sodainely upon us; but doubtlesse, he that shall manage and
meditate upon them with an impartiall eye, they will assuredly, in
tract [Course. ] of time, become familiar to him: Otherwise, for my
part, I should be in continuall feare and agonie; for no man did
ever more distrust his life, nor make lesse account of his
continuance: Neither can health, which hitherto I have so long
enjoied, and which so seldome hath beene crazed, [Enfeebled. ]
lengthen my hopes, nor any sicknesse shorten them of it. At every
minute me thinkes I make an escape. And I uncessantly record unto my
selfe, that whatsoever may be done another day, may be effected this
day. Truly hazards and dangers doe little or nothing approach us at
our end: And if we consider, how many more there remaine, besides
this accident, which in number more than millions seeme to threaten
us, and hang over us; we shall find, that be we sound or sicke,
lustie or weake, at sea or at land, abroad or at home, fighting or
at rest, in the middest of a battell or, in our beds, she is ever
alike neere unto us. Nemo altero fragilior est, nemo in crastinum
sui certior: "No man is weaker then other; none surer of himselfe
(to live) till to morrow. " Whatsoever I have to doe before death,
all leasure to end the same seemeth short unto me, yea were it but
of one houre. Some body, not long since turning over my writing
tables, found by chance a memoriall of something I would have done
after my death: I told him (as indeed it was true), that being but a
mile from my house, and in perfect health and lustie, I had made
haste to write it, because I could not assure my self I should ever
come home in safety: As one that am ever hatching of mine owne
thoughts, and place them in my selfe: I am ever prepared about that
which I may be: nor can death (come when she please) put me in mind
of any new thing. A man should ever, as much as in him lieth, be
ready booted to take his journey, and above all things, looke he
have then nothing to doe but with himselfe.
Quid brevi fortes jaculamur aevo
Multa:
[Footnote: Hor. 1. ii. Od. Xiv]
To aime why are we ever bold,
At many things in so short hold?
For then we shall have worke sufficient, without any more accrease.
Some man complaineth more that death doth hinder him from the
assured course of an hoped for victorie, than of death it selfe;
another cries out, he should give place to her, before he have
married his daughter, or directed the course of his childrens
bringing up; another bewaileth he must forgoe his wives company;
another moaneth the losse of his children, the chiefest commodities
of his being. I am now by meanes of the mercy of God in such a
taking, that without regret or grieving at any worldly matter, I am
prepared to dislodge, whensoever he shall please to call me: I am
every where free: my farewell is soone taken of all my friends,
except of my selfe. No man did ever pre pare himselfe to quit the
world more simply and fully, or more generally spake of all thoughts
of it, than I am assured I shall doe. The deadest deaths are the
best.
--Miser, de miser (aiunt) omnia ademit.
Vna dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae:
[Footnote: Luce. 1. iii. 941. ]
O wretch, O wretch (friends cry), one day,
All joyes of life hath tane away:
And the builder,
--manent (saith he) opera interrupta,
minaeque Murorum ingentes.
[Footnote: Virg. Aen. 1. iv. 88. ]
The workes unfinisht lie,
And walls that threatned hie.
A man should designe nothing so long afore-hand, or at least with
such an intent, as to passionate[Footnote: Long passionately. ]
himselfe to see the end of it; we are all borne to be doing.
Cum moriar, medium solvar et inter opus
[Footnote: Ovid. Am. 1. ii. El. x. 36]
When dying I my selfe shall spend,
Ere halfe my businesse come to end.
I would have a man to be doing, and to prolong his lives offices as
much as lieth in him, and let death seize upon me whilest I am
setting my cabiges, carelesse of her dart, but more of my unperfect
garden. I saw one die, who being at his last gaspe, uncessantly
complained against his destinie, and that death should so unkindly
cut him off in the middest of an historie which he had in hand, and
was now come to the fifteenth or sixteenth of our Kings.
Illud in his rebus non addunt, nec tibi earum,
Iam desiderium rerum super insidet uno.
[Footnote: Luce. 1. iii. 44. ]
Friends adde not that in this case, now no more
Shalt thou desire, or want things wisht before.
A man should rid himselfe of these vulgar and hurtful humours. Even
as Churchyards were first place adjoyning unto churches, and in the
most frequented places of the City, to enure (as Lycurgus said) the
common people, women and children, not to be skared at the sight of
a dead man, and to the end that continuall spectacle of bones,
sculs, tombes, graves and burials, should forewarne us of our
condition, and fatall end.
Quin etiam exhilarare viris convivia caede
Mos olim, et miscere epulis spectacula dira
Certantum ferro, saepe et super ipsa cadentum
Pocula, respersis non parco sanguine mensis.
[Footnote: Syl. 1. xi. 51]
Nay more, the manner was to welcome guests,
And with dire shewes of slaughter to mix feasts.
Of them that fought at sharpe, and with bords tainted
Of them with much bloud, who o'er full cups fainted.
And even as the AEgyptians after their feastings and carousings
caused a great image of death to be brought in and shewed to the
guests and bytanders, by one that cried aloud, "Drinke and be merry,
for such shalt thou be when thou art dead: "So have I learned this
custome or lesson, to have alwaies death, not only in my
imagination, but continually in my mouth. And there is nothing I
desire more to be informed of than of the death of men; that is to
say, what words, what countenance, and what face they shew at their
death; and in reading of histories, which I so attentively observe.
It appeareth by the shuffling and hudling up[Footnote: Collecting]
of my examples, I affect[Footnote: Like] no subject so particularly
as this. Were I a composer of books, I would keepe a register,
commented of the divers deaths, which in teaching men to die, should
after teach them to live. Dicearcus made one of that title, but of
another and lesse profitable end. Some man will say to mee, the
effect exceeds the thought so farre, that there is no fence so sure,
or cunning so certaine, but a man shall either lose or forget if he
come once to that point; let them say what they list: to premeditate
on it, giveth no doubt a great advantage: and it is nothing, at the
least, to goe so farre without dismay or alteration, or without an
ague? There belongs more to it: Nature her selfe lends her hand, and
gives us courage. If it be a short and violent death, wee have no
leisure to feare it; if otherwise, I perceive that according as I
engage my selfe in sicknesse, I doe naturally fall into some
disdaine and contempt of life. I finde that I have more adoe to
digest this resolution, that I shall die when I am in health, than I
have when I am troubled with a fever: forsomuch as I have no more
such fast hold on the commodities of life, whereof I begin to lose
the use and pleasure, and view death in the face with a lesse
undanted looke, which makes me hope, that the further I goe from
that, and the nearer I approach to this, so much more easily doe I
enter in composition for their exchange. Even as I have tried in
many other occurrences, which Caesar affirmed, that often some
things seeme greater, being farre from us, than if they bee neere at
hand: I have found that being in perfect health, I have much more
beene frighted with sicknesse, than when I have felt it. The
jollitie wherein I live, the pleasure and the strength make the
other seeme so disproportionable from that, that by imagination I
amplifie these commodities by one moitie, and apprehended them much
more heavie and burthensome, than I feele them when I have them upon
my shoulders. The same I hope will happen to me of death. Consider
we by the ordinary mutations, and daily declinations which we
suffer, how Nature deprives us of the sight of our losse and
empairing; what hath an aged man left him of his youths vigor, and
of his forepast life?
Heu senibus vita portio quanta manet
[Footnote: Com. Gal. 1. i. 16. ]
Alas to men in yeares how small
A part of life is left in all?
Caesar, to a tired and crazed [Footnote: diseased] Souldier of his
guard, who in the open street came to him, to beg leave he might
cause himselfe to be put to death; viewing his decrepit behaviour,
answered pleasantly: "Doest thou thinke to be alive then? " Were man
all at once to fall into it, I doe not thinke we should be able to
beare such a change, but being faire and gently led on by her hand,
in a slow, and as it were unperceived descent, by little and little,
and step by step, she roules us into that miserable state, and day
by day seekes to acquaint us with it. So that when youth failes in
us, we feele, nay we perceive no shaking or transchange at all in
our selves: which in essence and veritie is a harder death, than
that of a languishing and irkesome life, or that of age. Forsomuch
as the leape from an ill being unto a not being, is not so dangerous
or steepie; as it is from a delightfull and flourishing being unto a
painfull and sorrowfull condition. A weake bending, and faint
stopping bodie hath lesse strength to beare and under goe a heavie
burden: So hath our soule. She must bee rouzed and raised against
the violence and force of this adversarie. For as it is impossible
she should take any rest whilest she feareth: whereof if she be
assured (which is a thing exceeding humane [Footnote: human]
condition) she may boast that it is impossible unquietnesse,
torment, and feare, much lesse the least displeasure should lodge in
her.
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster,
Dux inquieti turbidus Adria,
Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.
[Footnote: Hor. I. iii. Od. iii. ]
No urging tyrants threatning face,
Where minde is found can it displace,
No troublous wind the rough seas Master,
Nor Joves great hand, the thunder-caster.
She is made Mistris of her passions and concupiscence, Lady of
indulgence, of shame, of povertie, and of all for tunes injuries.
Let him that can, attaine to this advantage: Herein consists the
true and soveraigne liberty, that affords us meanes wherewith to
jeast and make a scorne of force and injustice, and to deride
imprisonment, gives [Footnote: Gyves, shackles] or fetters.
--in manicis, et
Compedibus, savo te sub custode tenebo.
Ipse Deus simui atque volam, me solvet: opinor
Hoc sentit, moriar. Mors ultima linea rerum est.
[Footnote: Hor. I. i. Ep. xvi. 76. ]
In gyves and fetters I will hamper thee,
Under a Jayler that shall cruell be:
Yet, when I will, God me deliver shall,
He thinkes, I shall die: death is end of all.
Our religion hath had no surer humane foundation than the contempt
of life. Discourse of reason doth not only call and summon us unto
it. For why should we feare to lose a thing, which being lost,
cannot be moaned? but also, since we are threatened by so many kinds
of death, there is no more inconvenience to feare them all, than to
endure one: what matter is it when it commeth, since it is
unavoidable? Socrates answered one that told him, "The thirty
tyrants have condemned thee to death. " "And Nature them," said he.
What fondnesse is it to carke and care so much, at that instant and
passage from all exemption of paine and care? As our birth brought
us the birth of all things, so shall our death the end of all
things. Therefore is it as great follie to weepe, we shall not live
a hundred yeeres hence, as to waile we lived not a hundred yeeres
agoe. "Death is the beginning of another life. " So wept we, and so
much did it cost us to enter into this life; and so did we spoile us
of our ancient vaile in entring into it. Nothing can be grievous
that is but once. Is it reason so long to fear a thing of so short
time? Long life or short life is made all one by death. For long or
short is not in things that are no more. Aristotle saith, there are
certaine little beasts alongst the river Hyspanis, that live but one
day; she which dies at 8 o'clocke in the morning, dies in her youth,
and she that dies at 5 in the afternoon, dies in her decrepitude,
who of us doth not laugh, when we shall see this short moment of
continuance to be had in consideration of good or ill fortune? The
most and the least is ours, if we compare it with eternitie, or
equall it to the lasting of mountains, rivers, stars, and trees, or
any other living creature, is not lesse ridiculous. But nature
compels us to it. Depart (saith she) out of this world, even as you
came into it. The same way you came from death to life, returne
without passion or amazement, from life to death: your death is but
a peece of the worlds order, and but a parcell of the worlds life.
--inter se mortales mutua vivunt,
Et quasi cursores vitae lampada tradunt.
[Footnote: Lucret. ii. 74. 77. ]
Mortall men live by mutuall entercourse:
And yeeld their life-torch, as men in a course.
Shal I not change this goodly contexture of things for you? It is
the condition of your creation: death is a part of yourselves: you
flie from yourselves. The being you enjoy is equally shared betweene
life and death. The first day of your birth doth as wel addresse you
to die, as to live.
Prima quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit.
[Footnote: Sen. Her. Sw. ckor. Iii. ]
The first houre, that to men
Gave life, strait, cropt it then.
Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet:
[Footnote: Manil. At. l. iv]
As we are borne we die; the end
Doth of th' originall depend.
All the time you live, you steale it from death: it is at her
charge. The continuall worke of your life, is to contrive death: you
are in death, during the time you continue in life: for, you are
after death, when you are no longer living. Or if you had rather
have it so, you are dead after life: but during life, you are still
dying: and death doth more rudely touch the dying than the dead, and
more lively and essentially. If you have profited by life, you have
also beene fed thereby, depart then satisfied.
Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis?
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 982. ]
Why like a full-fed guest,
Depart you not to rest?
If you have not knowne how to make use of it: if it were
unprofitable to you, what need you care to have lost it to what end
would you enjoy it longer?
--cur amplius addere quaeris
Rursum quod pereat male,
et ingratum occidat omne?
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 989. ]
Why seeke you more to gaine, what must againe
All perish ill, and passe with griefe or paine?
Life in itselfe is neither good nor evill: it is the place of good
or evill, according as you prepare it for them. And if you have
lived one day, you have seene all: one day is equal to all other
daies. There is no other light, there is no other night. This Sunne,
this Moone, these Starres, and this disposition, is the very same
which your forefathers enjoyed, and which shall also entertaine your
posteritie.
Non alium videre patres, aliumve nepotes
Aspicient.
[Footnote: Manil. i. 523. ]
No other saw our Sires of old,
No other shall their sonnes behold.
And if the worst happen, the distribution and varietie of all the
acts of my comedie, is performed in one yeare. If you have observed
the course of my foure seasons; they containe the infancie, the
youth, the viriltie, and the old age of the world. He hath plaied
his part: he knowes no other wilinesse belonging to it, but to begin
againe, it will ever be the same, and no other.
Versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque,
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 123. ]
We still in one place turne about,
Still there we are, now in, now out.
Atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus.
[Footnote: Virg. Georg. 1. ii. 403. ]
The yeare into it selfe is cast
By those same steps, that it hath past.
I am not purposed to devise you other new sports.
Nam tibi praterea quod machiner, inveniamque
Quod placeat nihil est; eadem suni omnia semper.
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. ii. 978. ]
Else nothing, that I can devise or frame,
Can please thee, for all things are still the same.
Make roome for others, as others have done for you. Equalitie is the
chiefe ground-worke of equitie, who can complaine to be comprehended
where all are contained? So may you live long enough, you shall
never diminish anything from the time you have to die: it is
bootlesse; so long shall you continue in that state which you feare,
as if you had died, being in your swathing-clothes, and when you
were sucking.
--licet, quot vis, vivendo vincere secla.
Mors sterna tamen, nihilominus ilia manebit.
[Footnote: Ib. 1126. ]
Though yeares you live, as many as you will,
Death is eternall, death remaineth still.
And I will so please you, that you shall have no discontent.
In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te,
Qui possit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum,
Stansque jacentem.
[Footnote: Idt. 1. Iii. 9. ]
Thou know'st not there shall be not other thou,
When thou art dead indeed, that can tell how
Alive to waile thee dying, Standing to waile thee lying.
Nor shall you wish for life, which you so much desire
Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitamque requirit,
[Footnote: ib. 963. ]
Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum.
[Footnote: Ib. 966. ]
For then none for himselfe or life requires:
Nor are we of our selves affected with desires.
Death is lesse to be feared than nothing, if there were anything
lesse than nothing.
--multo mortem minus ad nos esse putandum,
Si minus esse potest quam quod nihil esse videmus.
[Footnote: Ib. 970. ]
Death is much less to us, we ought esteeme,
If lesse may be, than what doth nothing seeme.
Nor alive, nor dead, it doth concern you nothing. Alive because you
are: Dead, because you are no more. Moreover, no man dies before his
houre. The time you leave behinde was no more yours than that which
was before your birth, and concerneth you no more.
Respice enim quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas
Temporis aeterni fuerit.
[Footnote: Ib. 1016. ]
For marke, how all antiquitie foregone
Of all time ere we were, to us was none.
Wheresoever your life ended, there is it all. The profit of life
consists not in the space, but rather in the use. Some man hath
lived long, that hath a short life, Follow it whilst you have time.
It consists not in number of yeeres, but in your will, that you have
lived long enough. Did you thinke you should never come to the
place, where you were still going? There is no way but hath an end.
And if company may solace you, doth not the whole world walke the
same path?
--Omnia te, vita perfuncta, sequentur.
[Footnote: Ib. 1012. ]
Life past, all things at last
Shall follow thee as thou hast past.
Doe not all things move as you doe, or keepe your course? Is there
any thing grows not old together with yourselfe? A thousand men, a
thousand beasts, and a thousand other creatures die in the very
instant that you die.
Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora sequuta est,
Que non audierit mistus vagitibus aegris
Ploratus, mortis comites et funeris atri.
[Footnote: Id. i. ii. 587. ]
No night ensued day light; no morning followed night,
Which heard not moaning mixt with sick-mens groaning,
With deaths and funerals joyned was that moaning.
To what end recoile you from it, if you cannot goe backe. You have
seene many who have found good in death, ending thereby many many
miseries. But have you seene any that hath received hurt thereby?
Therefore it is meere simplicitie to condemne a thing you never
approve, neither by yourselfe nor any other. Why doest thou
complaine of me and of destinie? Doe we offer thee any wrong? is it
for thee to direct us, or for us to governe thee? Although thy age
be not come to her period, thy life is. A little man is a whole man
as well as a great man. Neither men nor their lives are measured by
the Ell. Chiron refused immortalitie, being informed of the
conditions thereof, even by the God of time and of continuance,
Saturne his father. Imagine truly how much an ever-during life would
be lesse tolerable and more painfull to a man, than is the life
which I have given him. Had you not death you would then uncessantly
curse, and cry out against me, that I had deprived you of it. I have
of purpose and unwittingly blended some bitternesse amongst it, that
so seeing the commoditie of its use, I might hinder you from over-
greedily embracing, or indiscreetly calling for it. To continue in
this moderation that is, neither to fly from life nor to run to
death (which I require of you) I have tempered both the one and
other betweene sweetnes and sowrenes. I first taught Thales, the
chiefest of your Sages and Wisemen, that to live and die were
indifferent, which made him answer one very wisely, who asked him
wherefore he died not: "Because," said he, "it is indifferent. The
water, the earth, the aire, the fire, and other members of this my
universe, are no more the instruments of thy life than of thy death.
Why fearest thou thy last day? He is no more guiltie, and conferreth
no more to thy death, than any of the others. It is not the last
step that causeth weariness: it only declares it. All daies march
towards death, only the last comes to it. " Behold heere the good
precepts of our universall mother Nature. I have oftentimes
bethought my self whence it proceedeth, that in times of warre, the
visage of death (whether wee see it in us or in others) seemeth
without all comparison much lesse dreadful and terrible unto us,
than in our houses, or in our beds, otherwise it should be an armie
of Physitians and whiners, and she ever being one, there must needs
bee much more assurance amongst countrie-people and of base
condition, than in others. I verily believe, these fearefull lookes,
and astonishing countenances wherewith we encompass it, are those
that more amaze and terrifie us than death: a new forme of life; the
out cries of mothers; the wailing of women and children; the
visitation of dismaid and swouning friends; the assistance of a
number of pale-looking, distracted, and whining servants; a darke
chamber; tapers burning round about; our couch beset round with
Physitians and Preachers; and to conclude, nothing but horror and
astonishment on every side of us: are wee not already dead and
buried? The very children are afraid of their friends, when they see
them masked; and so are we. The maske must as well be taken from
things as from men, which being removed, we shall find nothing hid
under it, but the very same death, that a seely[Footnote: weak,
simple] varlet, or a simple maid-servant, did latterly suffer
without amazement or feare. Happie is that death which takes all
leasure from the preparations of such an equipage.
OF THE INSTITUTION AND EDUCATION OF CHILDREN; TO THE LADIE DIANA OF
FOIX, COUNTESSE OF GURSON
I never knew father, how crooked and deformed soever his sonne were,
that would either altogether cast him off, or not acknowledge him
for his owne: and yet (unlesse he be meerely besotted or blinded in
his affection) it may not be said, but he plainly perceiveth his
defects, and hath a feeling of his imperfections. But so it is, he
is his owne. So it is in my selfe. I see better than any man else,
that what I have set downe is nought but the fond imaginations of
him who in his youth hath tasted nothing but the paring, and seen
but the superficies of true learning: whereof he hath retained but a
generall and shapelesse forme: a smacke of every thing in generall,
but nothing to the purpose in particular: After the French manner.
To be short, I know there is an art of Phisicke; a course of lawes;
foure parts of the Mathematikes; and I am not altogether ignorant
what they tend unto. And perhaps I also know the scope and drift of
Sciences in generall to be for the service of our life. But to wade
further, or that ever I tired my selfe with plodding upon Aristotle
(the Monarch of our moderne doctrine 1) or obstinately continued in
search of any one science: I confesse I never did it. Nor is there
any one art whereof I am able so much as to draw the first
lineaments. And there is no scholler (be he of the lowest forme)
that may not repute himselfe wiser than I, who am not able to oppose
him in his first lesson: and if I be forced to it, I am constrained
verie impertinently to draw in matter from some generall discourse,
whereby I examine, and give a guesse at his naturall judgement: a
lesson as much unknowne to them as theirs is to me. I have not dealt
or had commerce with any excellent booke, except Plutarke or Seneca,
from whom (as the Danaides) I draw my water, uncessantly filling,
and as fast emptying: some thing whereof I fasten to this paper, but
to my selfe nothing at all. And touching bookes: Historie is my
chiefe studie, Poesie my only delight, to which I am particularly
affected: for as Cleanthes said, that as the voice being forciblie
pent in the narrow gullet of a trumpet, at last issueth forth more
strong and shriller, so me seemes, that a sentence cunningly and
closely couched in measure keeping Posie, darts it selfe forth more
furiously, and wounds me even to the quicke. And concerning the
naturall faculties that are in me (whereof behold here an essay), I
perceive them to faint under their owne burthen; my conceits,
[Footnote: Ideas. ] and my judgement march but uncertaine, and as it
were groping, staggering, and stumbling at every rush: And when I
have gone as far as I can, I have no whit pleased my selfe: for the
further I saile the more land I descrie, and that so dimmed with
fogges, and overcast with clouds, that my sight is so weakned, I
cannot distinguish the same. And then undertaking to speake
indifferently of all that presents it selfe unto my fantasie, and
having nothing but mine owne naturall meanes to imploy therein, if
it be my hap (as commonly it is) among good Authors, to light upon
those verie places which I have undertaken to treat off, as even now
I did in Plutarke reading his discourse of the power of imagination,
wherein in regard of those wise men, I acknowledge my selfe so weake
and so poore, so dull and grose-headed, as I am forced both to
pittie and disdaine my selfe, yet am I pleased with this, that my
opinions have often the grace to jump with theirs, and that I follow
them a loofe-off, [Footnote: At a distance. ] and thereby possesse at
least, that which all other men have not; which is, that I know the
utmost difference betweene them and my selfe: all which
notwithstanding, I suffer my inventions to run abroad, as weake and
faint as I have produced them, without bungling and botching the
faults which this comparison hath discovered to me in them. A man
had need have a strong backe, to undertake to march foot to foot
with these kind of men. The indiscreet writers of our age, amidst
their triviall [Footnote: Commonplace. ] compositions, intermingle
and wrest in whole sentences taken from ancient Authors, supposing
by such filching-theft to purchase honour and reputation to
themselves, doe cleane contrarie. For, this infinite varietie and
dissemblance of lustres, makes a face so wan, so il-favored, and so
uglie, in respect of theirs, that they lose much more than gaine
thereby. These were two contrarie humours: The Philosopher
Chrisippus was wont to foist-in amongst his bookes, not only whole
sentences and other long-long discourses, but whole bookes of other
Authors, as in one, he brought in Euripides his Medea. And
Apollodorus was wont to say of him, that if one should draw from out
his bookes what he had stolne from others, his paper would remaine
blanke. Whereas Epicurus cleane contrarie to him in three hundred
volumes he left behind him, had not made use of one allegation.
[Footnote: Citation. ] It was my fortune not long since to light upon
such a place: I had languishingly traced after some French words, so
naked and shallow, and so void either of sense or matter, that at
last I found them to be nought but meere French words; and after a
tedious and wearisome travell, I chanced to stumble upon an high,
rich, and even to the clouds-raised piece, the descent whereof had
it been somewhat more pleasant or easie, or the ascent reaching a
little further, it had been excusable, and to be borne with-all; but
it was such a steepie downe-fall, and by meere strength hewen out of
the maine rocke, that by reading of the first six words, me thought
I was carried into another world: whereby I perceive the bottome
whence I came to be so low and deep, as I durst never more adventure
to go through it; for, if I did stuffe any one of my discourses with
those rich spoiles, it would manifestly cause the sottishnesse
[Footnote: Foolishness. ] of others to appeare. To reprove mine owne
faults in others, seemes to me no more unsufferable than to
reprehend (as I doe often) those of others in my selfe. They ought
to be accused every where, and have all places of Sanctuarie taken
from them: yet do I know how over boldly, at all times I adventure
to equall my selfe unto my filchings, and to march hand in hand with
them; not without a fond hardie hope, that I may perhaps be able to
bleare the eyes of the Judges from discerning them. But it is as
much for the benefit of my application, as for the good of mine
invention and force. And I doe not furiously front, and bodie to
bodie wrestle with those old champions: it is but by flights,
advantages, and false offers I seek to come within them, and if I
can, to give them a fall. I do not rashly take them about the necke,
I doe but touch them, nor doe I go so far as by my bargaine I would
seeme to doe; could I but keepe even with them, I should then be an
honest man; for I seeke not to venture on them, but where they are
strongest. To doe as I have seen some, that is, to shroud themselves
under other armes, not daring so much as to show their fingers ends
unarmed, and to botch up all their works (as it is an easie matter
in a common subject, namely for the wiser sort) with ancient
inventions, here and there hudled up together. And in those who
endeavoured to hide what they have filched from others, and make it
their owne, it is first a manifest note of injustice, then a plaine
argument of cowardlinesse; who having nothing of any worth in
themselves to make show of, will yet under the countenance of others
sufficiencie goe about to make a faire offer: Moreover (oh great
foolishnesse) to seek by such cosening [Footnote: Cheating. ] tricks
to forestall the ignorant approbation of the common sort, nothing
fearing to discover their ignorance to men of understanding (whose
praise only is of value) who will soone trace out such borrowed
ware. As for me, there is nothing I will doe lesse. I never speake
of others, but that I may the more speake of my selfe. This
concerneth not those mingle-mangles of many kinds of stuffe, or as
the Grecians call them Rapsodies, that for such are published, of
which kind I have (since I came to yeares of discretion) seen divers
most ingenious and wittie; amongst others, one under the name of
Capilupus; besides many of the ancient stampe. These are wits of
such excellence, as both here and elsewhere they will soone be
perceived, as our late famous writer Lipsius, in his learned and
laborious work of the Politikes: yet whatsoever come of it, for so
much as they are but follies, my intent is not to smother them, no
more than a bald and hoarie picture of mine, where a Painter hath
drawne not a perfect visage, but mine owne. For, howsoever, these
are but my humors and opinions, and I deliver them but to show what
my conceit [Footnote: notion] is, and not what ought to be beleeved.
Wherein I ayme at nothing but to display my selfe, who peradventure
(if a new prentiship change me) shall be another to morrow. I have
no authoritie to purchase beliefe, neither do I desire it; knowing
well that I am not sufficiently taught to instruct others. Some
having read my precedent Chapter [Footnote: "Of Pedantism"], told me
not long since in mine owne house, I should somewhat more have
extended my selfe in the discourse concerning the institution of
children. Now (Madam) if there were any sufficiencie in me touching
that subject, I could not better employ the same than to bestow it
as a present upon that little lad, which ere long threatneth to make
a happie issue from out your honorable woombe; for (Madame) you are
too generous to begin with other than a man childe. And having had
so great a part in the conduct of your successeful marriage, I may
challenge some right and interest in the greatnesse and prosperitie
of all that shall proceed from it: moreover, the ancient and
rightfull possession, which you from time to time have ever had, and
still have over my service, urgeth me with more than ordinarie
respects, to wish all honour, well-fare and advantage to whatsoever
may in any sort concerne you and yours. And truly, my meaning is but
to show that the greatest difficultie, and importing all humane
knowledge, seemeth to be in this point, where the nurture and
institution of young children is in question. For, as in matters of
husbandrie, the labor that must be used before sowing, setting, and
planting, yea in planting itselfe, is most certaine and easie. But
when that which was sowen, set and planted, commeth to take life;
before it come to ripenesse, much adoe, and great varietie of
proceeding belongeth to it. So in men, it is no great matter to get
them, but being borne, what continuall cares, what diligent
attendance, what doubts and feares, doe daily wait to their parents
and tutors, before they can be nurtured and brought to any good? The
fore-shew of their inclination whilest they are young is so
uncertaine, their humours so variable, their promises so changing,
their hopes so false, and their proceedings so doubtful, that it is
very hard (yea for the wisest) to ground any certaine judgment, or
assured successe upon them. Behold Cymon, view Themistocles, and a
thousand others, how they have differed, and fallen to better from
themselves, and deceive the expectation of such as knowe them. The
young whelps both of Dogges and Beares at first sight shew their
naturall disposition, but men headlong embracing this custome or
fashion, following that humor or opinion, admitting this or that
passion, allowing of that or this law, are easily changed, and soone
disguised; yet it is hard to force the naturall propension or
readinesse of the mind, whereby it followeth, that for want of
heedie fore-sight in those that could not guide their course well,
they often employ much time in vaine, to addresse young children in
those matters whereunto they are not naturally addicted. All which
difficulties notwithstanding, mine opinion is, to bring them up in
the best and profitablest studies, and that a man should slightly
passe over those fond presages, and deceiving prognostikes, which we
over precisely gather in their infancie. And (without offence be it
said) me thinks that Plato in his "Commonwealth" allowed them too-
too much authoritie.
Madame, Learning joyned with true knowledge is an especiall and
gracefull ornament, and an implement of wonderful use and
consequence, namely, in persons raised to that degree of fortune
wherein you are. And in good truth, learning hath not her owne true
forme, nor can she make shew of her beauteous lineaments, if she
fall into the hands of base and vile persons. [For, as famous
Torquato Tasso saith: "Philosophie being a rich and noble Queene,
and knowing her owne worth, graciously smileth upon and lovingly
embraceth Princes and noble men, if they become suiters to her,
admitting them as her minions, and gently affoording them all the
favours she can; whereas upon the contrarie, if she be wooed, and
sued unto by clownes, mechanicall fellowes, and such base kind of
people, she holds herselfe disparaged and disgraced, as holding no
proportion with them. And therefore see we by experience, that if a
true Gentleman or nobleman follow her with any attention, and woo
her with importunitie, he shall learne and know more of her, and
prove a better scholler in one yeare, than an ungentle or base
fellow shall in seven, though he pursue her never so attentively. "]
She is much more readie and fierce to lend her furtherance and
direction in the conduct of a warre, to attempt honourable actions,
to command a people, to treat a peace with a prince of forraine
nation, than she is to forme an argument in Logick, to devise a
Syllogisme, to canvase a case at the barre, or to prescribe a receit
of pills. So (noble Ladie) forsomuch as I cannot perswade myselfe,
that you will either forget or neglect this point, concerning the
institution of yours, especially having tasted the sweetnesse
thereof, and being descended of so noble and learned a race. For we
yet possesse the learned compositions of the ancient and noble
Earles of Foix, from out whose heroicke loynes your husband and you
take your of-spring. And Francis Lord of Candale, your worthie
uncle, doth daily bring forth such fruits thereof, as the knowledge
of the matchlesse qualitie of your house shall hereafter extend
itselfe to many ages; I will therefore make you acquainted with one
conceit of mine, which contrarie to the common use I hold, and that
is all I am able to affoord you concerning that matter. The charge
of the Tutor, which you shall appoint your sonne, in the choice of
whom consisteth the whole substance of his education and bringing
up; on which are many branches depending, which (forasmuch as I can
adde nothing of any moment to it) I will not touch at all. And for
that point, wherein I presume to advise him, he may so far forth
give credit unto it, as he shall see just cause. To a gentleman
borne of noble parentage, and heire of a house that aymeth at true
learning, and in it would be disciplined, not so much for gane or
commoditie to himselfe (because so abject an end is far unworthie
the grace and favour of the Muses, and besides, hath a regard or
dependencie of others) nor for externall shew and ornament, but to
adorne and enrich his inward minde, desiring rather to shape and
institute an able and sufficient man, than a bare learned man; my
desire is therefore, that the parents or overseers of such a
gentleman be very circumspect, and careful in chusing his director,
whom I would rather commend for having a well composed and temperate
braine, than a full stuft head, yet both will doe well. And I would
rather prefer wisdome, judgement, civill customes, and modest
behaviour, than bare and meere literall learning; and that in his
charge he hold a new course. Some never cease brawling in their
schollers eares (as if they were still pouring in a tonell) to
follow their booke, yet is their charge nothing else but to repeat
what hath beene told them before. I would have a tutor to correct
this part, and that at first entrance, according to the capacitie of
the wit he hath in hand, he should begin to make shew of it, making
him to have a smacke of all things, and how to choose and
distinguish them, without helpe of others, sometimes opening him the
way, other times leaving him to open it by himselfe. I would not
have him to invent and speake alone, but suffer his disciple to
speake when his turne commeth. Socrates, and after him Arcesilaus,
made their schollers to speake first, and then would speake
themselves. Obest plerumque iis qui discere volunt, auctoritas eorum
qui docent: [Footnote: CIC. De Nat. 1. i] "Most commonly the
authoritie of them that teach, hinders them that would learne. "
It is therefore meet that he make him first trot-on before him,
whereby he may the better judge of his pace, and so guesse how long
he will hold out, that accordingly he may fit his strength; for want
of which proportion we often marre all. And to know how to make a
good choice, and how far forth one may proceed (still keeping a due
measure), is one of the hardest labours I know. It is a signe of a
noble, and effect of an undanted spirit, to know how to second, and
how far forth he shall condescend to his childish proceedings, and
how to guide them. As for myselfe, I can better and with more
strength walke up than downe a hill. Those which, according to our
common fashion, undertake with one selfe-same lesson, and like maner
of education, to direct many spirits of divers formes and different
humours, it is no marvell if among a multitude of children, they
scarce meet with two or three that reap any good fruit by their
discipline, or that come to any perfection. I would not only have
him to demand an accompt of the words contained in his lesson, but
of the sense and substance thereof, and judge of the profit he hath
made of it, not by the testimonie of his memorie, but by the
witnesse of his life. That what he lately learned, he cause him to
set forth and pourtray the same into sundrie shapes, and then to
accommodate it to as many different and severall subjects, whereby
he shal perceive, whether he have yet apprehended the same, and
therein enfeoffed himselfe, [Footnote: Taken possession. ] at due
times taking his instruction from the institution given by Plato. It
is a signe of cruditie and indigestion for a man to yeeld up his
meat, even as he swallowed the same; the stomacke hath not wrought
his full operation, unlesse it have changed forme, and altered
fashion of that which was given him to boyle and concoct.
[Wee see men gape after no reputation but learning, and when they
say, such a one is a learned man, they thinke they have said
enough;] Our minde doth move at others pleasure, and tyed and forced
to serve the fantasies of others, being brought under by authoritie,
and forced to stoope to the lure of their bare lesson; wee have
beene so subjected to harpe upon one string, that we have no way
left us to descant upon voluntarie; our vigor and libertie is cleane
extinct. Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt: "They never come to their owne
tuition. " It was my hap to bee familiarlie acquainted with an honest
man at Pisa, but such an Aristotelian, as he held this infallible
position; that a conformitie to Aristotles doctrine was the true
touchstone and squire [Footnote: Square. ] of all solid imaginations
and perfect veritie; for, whatsoever had no coherencie with it, was
but fond Chimeraes and idle humors; inasmuch as he had knowne all,
seene all, and said all. This proposition of his being somewhat over
amply and injuriously interpreted by some, made him a long time
after to be troubled in the inquisition of Rome. I would have him
make his scholler narrowly to sift all things with discretion, and
harbour nothing in his head by mere authoritie, or upon trust.
Aristotles principles shall be no more axiomes unto him, than the
Stoikes or Epicurians. Let this diversitie of judgements be proposed
unto him, if he can, he shall be able to distinguish the truth from
falsehood, if not, he will remaine doubtful.
Che non men che saper dubbiar m'aggrata.
[Footnote: DANTE, Inferno, cant. xi. 93. ]
No lesse it pleaseth me,
To doubt, than wise to be.
For if by his owne discourse he embrace the opinions of Xenophon or
of Plato, they shall be no longer theirs, but his. He that meerely
followeth another, traceth nothing, and seeketh nothing: Non sumus
sub Rege, sibi quisque se vindicet: [Footnote: SEN. Epist. xxxiii. ]
"We are not under a Kings command, every one may challenge himselfe,
for let him at least know that he knoweth. " It is requisite he
endevour as much to feed himselfe with their conceits, as labour to
learne their precepts; which, so he know how to applie, let him
hardily forget, where or whence he had them. Truth and reason are
common to all, and are no more proper unto him that spake them
heretofore, then unto him that shall speake them hereafter. And it
is no more according to Platoes opinion than to mine, since both he
and I understand and see alike. The Bees do here and there sucke
this and cull that flower, but afterward they produce the hony,
which is peculiarly their owne, then is it no more Thyme or Majoram.
So of peeces borrowed of others, he may lawfully alter, transforme,
and confound them, to shape out of them a perfect peece of worke,
altogether his owne; alwaies provided his judgement, his travell,
[Footnote: Travail, labor. ] studie, and institution tend to nothing,
but to frame the same perfect. Let him hardily conceale where or
whence he hath had any helpe, and make no shew of anything, but of
that which he hath made himselfe. Pirates, pilchers, and borrowers,
make a shew of their purchases and buildings, but not of that which
they have taken from others: you see not the secret fees or bribes
Lawyers take of their Clients, but you shall manifestly discover the
alliances they make, the honours they get for their children, and
the goodly houses they build. No man makes open shew of his receits,
but every one of his gettings. The good that comes of studie (or at
least should come) is to prove better, wiser and honester. It is the
understanding power (said Epicharmus) that seeth and heareth, it is
it that profiteth all and disposeth all, that moveth, swayeth, and
ruleth all: all things else are but blind, senselesse, and without
spirit. And truly in barring him of libertie to doe any thing of
himselfe, we make him thereby more servile and more coward. Who
would ever enquire of his scholler what he thinketh of Rhetorike, of
Grammar, of this or of that sentence of Cicero? Which things
thoroughly fethered (as if they were oracles) are let flie into our
memorie; in which both letters and syllables are substantiall parts
of the subject.
much given to melancholy, but rather to dreaming and sluggishness.
There is nothing wherewith I have ever more entertained my selfe,
than with the imaginations of death, yea in the most licentious
times of my age.
Iucundum, cum atas florida ver ageret
[Footnote: Catul. Eleg. iv. 16. ]
When my age flourishing
Did spend its pleasant spring.
Being amongst faire Ladies, and in earnest play, some have thought
me busied, or musing with my selfe, how to digest some jealousie, or
meditating on the uncertaintie of some conceived hope, when God he
knowes, I was entertaining my selfe with the remembrance of some one
or other, that but few daies before was taken with a burning fever,
and of his sodaine end, comming from such a feast or meeting where I
was my selfe, and with his head full of idle conceits, of lore, and
merry glee; supposing the same, either sickness or end, to be as
neere me as him.
Iam fuerit, nec post, unquam revocare licebit.
[Footnote: Lucr. I. iii. 947. ]
Now time would be, no more You can this time restore.
I did no more trouble my selfe or frowne at such conceit, [Idea. ]
than at any other. It is impossible we should not apprehend or feele
some motions or startings at such imaginations at the first, and
comming sodainely upon us; but doubtlesse, he that shall manage and
meditate upon them with an impartiall eye, they will assuredly, in
tract [Course. ] of time, become familiar to him: Otherwise, for my
part, I should be in continuall feare and agonie; for no man did
ever more distrust his life, nor make lesse account of his
continuance: Neither can health, which hitherto I have so long
enjoied, and which so seldome hath beene crazed, [Enfeebled. ]
lengthen my hopes, nor any sicknesse shorten them of it. At every
minute me thinkes I make an escape. And I uncessantly record unto my
selfe, that whatsoever may be done another day, may be effected this
day. Truly hazards and dangers doe little or nothing approach us at
our end: And if we consider, how many more there remaine, besides
this accident, which in number more than millions seeme to threaten
us, and hang over us; we shall find, that be we sound or sicke,
lustie or weake, at sea or at land, abroad or at home, fighting or
at rest, in the middest of a battell or, in our beds, she is ever
alike neere unto us. Nemo altero fragilior est, nemo in crastinum
sui certior: "No man is weaker then other; none surer of himselfe
(to live) till to morrow. " Whatsoever I have to doe before death,
all leasure to end the same seemeth short unto me, yea were it but
of one houre. Some body, not long since turning over my writing
tables, found by chance a memoriall of something I would have done
after my death: I told him (as indeed it was true), that being but a
mile from my house, and in perfect health and lustie, I had made
haste to write it, because I could not assure my self I should ever
come home in safety: As one that am ever hatching of mine owne
thoughts, and place them in my selfe: I am ever prepared about that
which I may be: nor can death (come when she please) put me in mind
of any new thing. A man should ever, as much as in him lieth, be
ready booted to take his journey, and above all things, looke he
have then nothing to doe but with himselfe.
Quid brevi fortes jaculamur aevo
Multa:
[Footnote: Hor. 1. ii. Od. Xiv]
To aime why are we ever bold,
At many things in so short hold?
For then we shall have worke sufficient, without any more accrease.
Some man complaineth more that death doth hinder him from the
assured course of an hoped for victorie, than of death it selfe;
another cries out, he should give place to her, before he have
married his daughter, or directed the course of his childrens
bringing up; another bewaileth he must forgoe his wives company;
another moaneth the losse of his children, the chiefest commodities
of his being. I am now by meanes of the mercy of God in such a
taking, that without regret or grieving at any worldly matter, I am
prepared to dislodge, whensoever he shall please to call me: I am
every where free: my farewell is soone taken of all my friends,
except of my selfe. No man did ever pre pare himselfe to quit the
world more simply and fully, or more generally spake of all thoughts
of it, than I am assured I shall doe. The deadest deaths are the
best.
--Miser, de miser (aiunt) omnia ademit.
Vna dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae:
[Footnote: Luce. 1. iii. 941. ]
O wretch, O wretch (friends cry), one day,
All joyes of life hath tane away:
And the builder,
--manent (saith he) opera interrupta,
minaeque Murorum ingentes.
[Footnote: Virg. Aen. 1. iv. 88. ]
The workes unfinisht lie,
And walls that threatned hie.
A man should designe nothing so long afore-hand, or at least with
such an intent, as to passionate[Footnote: Long passionately. ]
himselfe to see the end of it; we are all borne to be doing.
Cum moriar, medium solvar et inter opus
[Footnote: Ovid. Am. 1. ii. El. x. 36]
When dying I my selfe shall spend,
Ere halfe my businesse come to end.
I would have a man to be doing, and to prolong his lives offices as
much as lieth in him, and let death seize upon me whilest I am
setting my cabiges, carelesse of her dart, but more of my unperfect
garden. I saw one die, who being at his last gaspe, uncessantly
complained against his destinie, and that death should so unkindly
cut him off in the middest of an historie which he had in hand, and
was now come to the fifteenth or sixteenth of our Kings.
Illud in his rebus non addunt, nec tibi earum,
Iam desiderium rerum super insidet uno.
[Footnote: Luce. 1. iii. 44. ]
Friends adde not that in this case, now no more
Shalt thou desire, or want things wisht before.
A man should rid himselfe of these vulgar and hurtful humours. Even
as Churchyards were first place adjoyning unto churches, and in the
most frequented places of the City, to enure (as Lycurgus said) the
common people, women and children, not to be skared at the sight of
a dead man, and to the end that continuall spectacle of bones,
sculs, tombes, graves and burials, should forewarne us of our
condition, and fatall end.
Quin etiam exhilarare viris convivia caede
Mos olim, et miscere epulis spectacula dira
Certantum ferro, saepe et super ipsa cadentum
Pocula, respersis non parco sanguine mensis.
[Footnote: Syl. 1. xi. 51]
Nay more, the manner was to welcome guests,
And with dire shewes of slaughter to mix feasts.
Of them that fought at sharpe, and with bords tainted
Of them with much bloud, who o'er full cups fainted.
And even as the AEgyptians after their feastings and carousings
caused a great image of death to be brought in and shewed to the
guests and bytanders, by one that cried aloud, "Drinke and be merry,
for such shalt thou be when thou art dead: "So have I learned this
custome or lesson, to have alwaies death, not only in my
imagination, but continually in my mouth. And there is nothing I
desire more to be informed of than of the death of men; that is to
say, what words, what countenance, and what face they shew at their
death; and in reading of histories, which I so attentively observe.
It appeareth by the shuffling and hudling up[Footnote: Collecting]
of my examples, I affect[Footnote: Like] no subject so particularly
as this. Were I a composer of books, I would keepe a register,
commented of the divers deaths, which in teaching men to die, should
after teach them to live. Dicearcus made one of that title, but of
another and lesse profitable end. Some man will say to mee, the
effect exceeds the thought so farre, that there is no fence so sure,
or cunning so certaine, but a man shall either lose or forget if he
come once to that point; let them say what they list: to premeditate
on it, giveth no doubt a great advantage: and it is nothing, at the
least, to goe so farre without dismay or alteration, or without an
ague? There belongs more to it: Nature her selfe lends her hand, and
gives us courage. If it be a short and violent death, wee have no
leisure to feare it; if otherwise, I perceive that according as I
engage my selfe in sicknesse, I doe naturally fall into some
disdaine and contempt of life. I finde that I have more adoe to
digest this resolution, that I shall die when I am in health, than I
have when I am troubled with a fever: forsomuch as I have no more
such fast hold on the commodities of life, whereof I begin to lose
the use and pleasure, and view death in the face with a lesse
undanted looke, which makes me hope, that the further I goe from
that, and the nearer I approach to this, so much more easily doe I
enter in composition for their exchange. Even as I have tried in
many other occurrences, which Caesar affirmed, that often some
things seeme greater, being farre from us, than if they bee neere at
hand: I have found that being in perfect health, I have much more
beene frighted with sicknesse, than when I have felt it. The
jollitie wherein I live, the pleasure and the strength make the
other seeme so disproportionable from that, that by imagination I
amplifie these commodities by one moitie, and apprehended them much
more heavie and burthensome, than I feele them when I have them upon
my shoulders. The same I hope will happen to me of death. Consider
we by the ordinary mutations, and daily declinations which we
suffer, how Nature deprives us of the sight of our losse and
empairing; what hath an aged man left him of his youths vigor, and
of his forepast life?
Heu senibus vita portio quanta manet
[Footnote: Com. Gal. 1. i. 16. ]
Alas to men in yeares how small
A part of life is left in all?
Caesar, to a tired and crazed [Footnote: diseased] Souldier of his
guard, who in the open street came to him, to beg leave he might
cause himselfe to be put to death; viewing his decrepit behaviour,
answered pleasantly: "Doest thou thinke to be alive then? " Were man
all at once to fall into it, I doe not thinke we should be able to
beare such a change, but being faire and gently led on by her hand,
in a slow, and as it were unperceived descent, by little and little,
and step by step, she roules us into that miserable state, and day
by day seekes to acquaint us with it. So that when youth failes in
us, we feele, nay we perceive no shaking or transchange at all in
our selves: which in essence and veritie is a harder death, than
that of a languishing and irkesome life, or that of age. Forsomuch
as the leape from an ill being unto a not being, is not so dangerous
or steepie; as it is from a delightfull and flourishing being unto a
painfull and sorrowfull condition. A weake bending, and faint
stopping bodie hath lesse strength to beare and under goe a heavie
burden: So hath our soule. She must bee rouzed and raised against
the violence and force of this adversarie. For as it is impossible
she should take any rest whilest she feareth: whereof if she be
assured (which is a thing exceeding humane [Footnote: human]
condition) she may boast that it is impossible unquietnesse,
torment, and feare, much lesse the least displeasure should lodge in
her.
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster,
Dux inquieti turbidus Adria,
Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.
[Footnote: Hor. I. iii. Od. iii. ]
No urging tyrants threatning face,
Where minde is found can it displace,
No troublous wind the rough seas Master,
Nor Joves great hand, the thunder-caster.
She is made Mistris of her passions and concupiscence, Lady of
indulgence, of shame, of povertie, and of all for tunes injuries.
Let him that can, attaine to this advantage: Herein consists the
true and soveraigne liberty, that affords us meanes wherewith to
jeast and make a scorne of force and injustice, and to deride
imprisonment, gives [Footnote: Gyves, shackles] or fetters.
--in manicis, et
Compedibus, savo te sub custode tenebo.
Ipse Deus simui atque volam, me solvet: opinor
Hoc sentit, moriar. Mors ultima linea rerum est.
[Footnote: Hor. I. i. Ep. xvi. 76. ]
In gyves and fetters I will hamper thee,
Under a Jayler that shall cruell be:
Yet, when I will, God me deliver shall,
He thinkes, I shall die: death is end of all.
Our religion hath had no surer humane foundation than the contempt
of life. Discourse of reason doth not only call and summon us unto
it. For why should we feare to lose a thing, which being lost,
cannot be moaned? but also, since we are threatened by so many kinds
of death, there is no more inconvenience to feare them all, than to
endure one: what matter is it when it commeth, since it is
unavoidable? Socrates answered one that told him, "The thirty
tyrants have condemned thee to death. " "And Nature them," said he.
What fondnesse is it to carke and care so much, at that instant and
passage from all exemption of paine and care? As our birth brought
us the birth of all things, so shall our death the end of all
things. Therefore is it as great follie to weepe, we shall not live
a hundred yeeres hence, as to waile we lived not a hundred yeeres
agoe. "Death is the beginning of another life. " So wept we, and so
much did it cost us to enter into this life; and so did we spoile us
of our ancient vaile in entring into it. Nothing can be grievous
that is but once. Is it reason so long to fear a thing of so short
time? Long life or short life is made all one by death. For long or
short is not in things that are no more. Aristotle saith, there are
certaine little beasts alongst the river Hyspanis, that live but one
day; she which dies at 8 o'clocke in the morning, dies in her youth,
and she that dies at 5 in the afternoon, dies in her decrepitude,
who of us doth not laugh, when we shall see this short moment of
continuance to be had in consideration of good or ill fortune? The
most and the least is ours, if we compare it with eternitie, or
equall it to the lasting of mountains, rivers, stars, and trees, or
any other living creature, is not lesse ridiculous. But nature
compels us to it. Depart (saith she) out of this world, even as you
came into it. The same way you came from death to life, returne
without passion or amazement, from life to death: your death is but
a peece of the worlds order, and but a parcell of the worlds life.
--inter se mortales mutua vivunt,
Et quasi cursores vitae lampada tradunt.
[Footnote: Lucret. ii. 74. 77. ]
Mortall men live by mutuall entercourse:
And yeeld their life-torch, as men in a course.
Shal I not change this goodly contexture of things for you? It is
the condition of your creation: death is a part of yourselves: you
flie from yourselves. The being you enjoy is equally shared betweene
life and death. The first day of your birth doth as wel addresse you
to die, as to live.
Prima quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit.
[Footnote: Sen. Her. Sw. ckor. Iii. ]
The first houre, that to men
Gave life, strait, cropt it then.
Nascentes morimur, finisque ab origine pendet:
[Footnote: Manil. At. l. iv]
As we are borne we die; the end
Doth of th' originall depend.
All the time you live, you steale it from death: it is at her
charge. The continuall worke of your life, is to contrive death: you
are in death, during the time you continue in life: for, you are
after death, when you are no longer living. Or if you had rather
have it so, you are dead after life: but during life, you are still
dying: and death doth more rudely touch the dying than the dead, and
more lively and essentially. If you have profited by life, you have
also beene fed thereby, depart then satisfied.
Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis?
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 982. ]
Why like a full-fed guest,
Depart you not to rest?
If you have not knowne how to make use of it: if it were
unprofitable to you, what need you care to have lost it to what end
would you enjoy it longer?
--cur amplius addere quaeris
Rursum quod pereat male,
et ingratum occidat omne?
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 989. ]
Why seeke you more to gaine, what must againe
All perish ill, and passe with griefe or paine?
Life in itselfe is neither good nor evill: it is the place of good
or evill, according as you prepare it for them. And if you have
lived one day, you have seene all: one day is equal to all other
daies. There is no other light, there is no other night. This Sunne,
this Moone, these Starres, and this disposition, is the very same
which your forefathers enjoyed, and which shall also entertaine your
posteritie.
Non alium videre patres, aliumve nepotes
Aspicient.
[Footnote: Manil. i. 523. ]
No other saw our Sires of old,
No other shall their sonnes behold.
And if the worst happen, the distribution and varietie of all the
acts of my comedie, is performed in one yeare. If you have observed
the course of my foure seasons; they containe the infancie, the
youth, the viriltie, and the old age of the world. He hath plaied
his part: he knowes no other wilinesse belonging to it, but to begin
againe, it will ever be the same, and no other.
Versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque,
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. iii. 123. ]
We still in one place turne about,
Still there we are, now in, now out.
Atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus.
[Footnote: Virg. Georg. 1. ii. 403. ]
The yeare into it selfe is cast
By those same steps, that it hath past.
I am not purposed to devise you other new sports.
Nam tibi praterea quod machiner, inveniamque
Quod placeat nihil est; eadem suni omnia semper.
[Footnote: Lucret. 1. ii. 978. ]
Else nothing, that I can devise or frame,
Can please thee, for all things are still the same.
Make roome for others, as others have done for you. Equalitie is the
chiefe ground-worke of equitie, who can complaine to be comprehended
where all are contained? So may you live long enough, you shall
never diminish anything from the time you have to die: it is
bootlesse; so long shall you continue in that state which you feare,
as if you had died, being in your swathing-clothes, and when you
were sucking.
--licet, quot vis, vivendo vincere secla.
Mors sterna tamen, nihilominus ilia manebit.
[Footnote: Ib. 1126. ]
Though yeares you live, as many as you will,
Death is eternall, death remaineth still.
And I will so please you, that you shall have no discontent.
In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te,
Qui possit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum,
Stansque jacentem.
[Footnote: Idt. 1. Iii. 9. ]
Thou know'st not there shall be not other thou,
When thou art dead indeed, that can tell how
Alive to waile thee dying, Standing to waile thee lying.
Nor shall you wish for life, which you so much desire
Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitamque requirit,
[Footnote: ib. 963. ]
Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum.
[Footnote: Ib. 966. ]
For then none for himselfe or life requires:
Nor are we of our selves affected with desires.
Death is lesse to be feared than nothing, if there were anything
lesse than nothing.
--multo mortem minus ad nos esse putandum,
Si minus esse potest quam quod nihil esse videmus.
[Footnote: Ib. 970. ]
Death is much less to us, we ought esteeme,
If lesse may be, than what doth nothing seeme.
Nor alive, nor dead, it doth concern you nothing. Alive because you
are: Dead, because you are no more. Moreover, no man dies before his
houre. The time you leave behinde was no more yours than that which
was before your birth, and concerneth you no more.
Respice enim quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas
Temporis aeterni fuerit.
[Footnote: Ib. 1016. ]
For marke, how all antiquitie foregone
Of all time ere we were, to us was none.
Wheresoever your life ended, there is it all. The profit of life
consists not in the space, but rather in the use. Some man hath
lived long, that hath a short life, Follow it whilst you have time.
It consists not in number of yeeres, but in your will, that you have
lived long enough. Did you thinke you should never come to the
place, where you were still going? There is no way but hath an end.
And if company may solace you, doth not the whole world walke the
same path?
--Omnia te, vita perfuncta, sequentur.
[Footnote: Ib. 1012. ]
Life past, all things at last
Shall follow thee as thou hast past.
Doe not all things move as you doe, or keepe your course? Is there
any thing grows not old together with yourselfe? A thousand men, a
thousand beasts, and a thousand other creatures die in the very
instant that you die.
Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora sequuta est,
Que non audierit mistus vagitibus aegris
Ploratus, mortis comites et funeris atri.
[Footnote: Id. i. ii. 587. ]
No night ensued day light; no morning followed night,
Which heard not moaning mixt with sick-mens groaning,
With deaths and funerals joyned was that moaning.
To what end recoile you from it, if you cannot goe backe. You have
seene many who have found good in death, ending thereby many many
miseries. But have you seene any that hath received hurt thereby?
Therefore it is meere simplicitie to condemne a thing you never
approve, neither by yourselfe nor any other. Why doest thou
complaine of me and of destinie? Doe we offer thee any wrong? is it
for thee to direct us, or for us to governe thee? Although thy age
be not come to her period, thy life is. A little man is a whole man
as well as a great man. Neither men nor their lives are measured by
the Ell. Chiron refused immortalitie, being informed of the
conditions thereof, even by the God of time and of continuance,
Saturne his father. Imagine truly how much an ever-during life would
be lesse tolerable and more painfull to a man, than is the life
which I have given him. Had you not death you would then uncessantly
curse, and cry out against me, that I had deprived you of it. I have
of purpose and unwittingly blended some bitternesse amongst it, that
so seeing the commoditie of its use, I might hinder you from over-
greedily embracing, or indiscreetly calling for it. To continue in
this moderation that is, neither to fly from life nor to run to
death (which I require of you) I have tempered both the one and
other betweene sweetnes and sowrenes. I first taught Thales, the
chiefest of your Sages and Wisemen, that to live and die were
indifferent, which made him answer one very wisely, who asked him
wherefore he died not: "Because," said he, "it is indifferent. The
water, the earth, the aire, the fire, and other members of this my
universe, are no more the instruments of thy life than of thy death.
Why fearest thou thy last day? He is no more guiltie, and conferreth
no more to thy death, than any of the others. It is not the last
step that causeth weariness: it only declares it. All daies march
towards death, only the last comes to it. " Behold heere the good
precepts of our universall mother Nature. I have oftentimes
bethought my self whence it proceedeth, that in times of warre, the
visage of death (whether wee see it in us or in others) seemeth
without all comparison much lesse dreadful and terrible unto us,
than in our houses, or in our beds, otherwise it should be an armie
of Physitians and whiners, and she ever being one, there must needs
bee much more assurance amongst countrie-people and of base
condition, than in others. I verily believe, these fearefull lookes,
and astonishing countenances wherewith we encompass it, are those
that more amaze and terrifie us than death: a new forme of life; the
out cries of mothers; the wailing of women and children; the
visitation of dismaid and swouning friends; the assistance of a
number of pale-looking, distracted, and whining servants; a darke
chamber; tapers burning round about; our couch beset round with
Physitians and Preachers; and to conclude, nothing but horror and
astonishment on every side of us: are wee not already dead and
buried? The very children are afraid of their friends, when they see
them masked; and so are we. The maske must as well be taken from
things as from men, which being removed, we shall find nothing hid
under it, but the very same death, that a seely[Footnote: weak,
simple] varlet, or a simple maid-servant, did latterly suffer
without amazement or feare. Happie is that death which takes all
leasure from the preparations of such an equipage.
OF THE INSTITUTION AND EDUCATION OF CHILDREN; TO THE LADIE DIANA OF
FOIX, COUNTESSE OF GURSON
I never knew father, how crooked and deformed soever his sonne were,
that would either altogether cast him off, or not acknowledge him
for his owne: and yet (unlesse he be meerely besotted or blinded in
his affection) it may not be said, but he plainly perceiveth his
defects, and hath a feeling of his imperfections. But so it is, he
is his owne. So it is in my selfe. I see better than any man else,
that what I have set downe is nought but the fond imaginations of
him who in his youth hath tasted nothing but the paring, and seen
but the superficies of true learning: whereof he hath retained but a
generall and shapelesse forme: a smacke of every thing in generall,
but nothing to the purpose in particular: After the French manner.
To be short, I know there is an art of Phisicke; a course of lawes;
foure parts of the Mathematikes; and I am not altogether ignorant
what they tend unto. And perhaps I also know the scope and drift of
Sciences in generall to be for the service of our life. But to wade
further, or that ever I tired my selfe with plodding upon Aristotle
(the Monarch of our moderne doctrine 1) or obstinately continued in
search of any one science: I confesse I never did it. Nor is there
any one art whereof I am able so much as to draw the first
lineaments. And there is no scholler (be he of the lowest forme)
that may not repute himselfe wiser than I, who am not able to oppose
him in his first lesson: and if I be forced to it, I am constrained
verie impertinently to draw in matter from some generall discourse,
whereby I examine, and give a guesse at his naturall judgement: a
lesson as much unknowne to them as theirs is to me. I have not dealt
or had commerce with any excellent booke, except Plutarke or Seneca,
from whom (as the Danaides) I draw my water, uncessantly filling,
and as fast emptying: some thing whereof I fasten to this paper, but
to my selfe nothing at all. And touching bookes: Historie is my
chiefe studie, Poesie my only delight, to which I am particularly
affected: for as Cleanthes said, that as the voice being forciblie
pent in the narrow gullet of a trumpet, at last issueth forth more
strong and shriller, so me seemes, that a sentence cunningly and
closely couched in measure keeping Posie, darts it selfe forth more
furiously, and wounds me even to the quicke. And concerning the
naturall faculties that are in me (whereof behold here an essay), I
perceive them to faint under their owne burthen; my conceits,
[Footnote: Ideas. ] and my judgement march but uncertaine, and as it
were groping, staggering, and stumbling at every rush: And when I
have gone as far as I can, I have no whit pleased my selfe: for the
further I saile the more land I descrie, and that so dimmed with
fogges, and overcast with clouds, that my sight is so weakned, I
cannot distinguish the same. And then undertaking to speake
indifferently of all that presents it selfe unto my fantasie, and
having nothing but mine owne naturall meanes to imploy therein, if
it be my hap (as commonly it is) among good Authors, to light upon
those verie places which I have undertaken to treat off, as even now
I did in Plutarke reading his discourse of the power of imagination,
wherein in regard of those wise men, I acknowledge my selfe so weake
and so poore, so dull and grose-headed, as I am forced both to
pittie and disdaine my selfe, yet am I pleased with this, that my
opinions have often the grace to jump with theirs, and that I follow
them a loofe-off, [Footnote: At a distance. ] and thereby possesse at
least, that which all other men have not; which is, that I know the
utmost difference betweene them and my selfe: all which
notwithstanding, I suffer my inventions to run abroad, as weake and
faint as I have produced them, without bungling and botching the
faults which this comparison hath discovered to me in them. A man
had need have a strong backe, to undertake to march foot to foot
with these kind of men. The indiscreet writers of our age, amidst
their triviall [Footnote: Commonplace. ] compositions, intermingle
and wrest in whole sentences taken from ancient Authors, supposing
by such filching-theft to purchase honour and reputation to
themselves, doe cleane contrarie. For, this infinite varietie and
dissemblance of lustres, makes a face so wan, so il-favored, and so
uglie, in respect of theirs, that they lose much more than gaine
thereby. These were two contrarie humours: The Philosopher
Chrisippus was wont to foist-in amongst his bookes, not only whole
sentences and other long-long discourses, but whole bookes of other
Authors, as in one, he brought in Euripides his Medea. And
Apollodorus was wont to say of him, that if one should draw from out
his bookes what he had stolne from others, his paper would remaine
blanke. Whereas Epicurus cleane contrarie to him in three hundred
volumes he left behind him, had not made use of one allegation.
[Footnote: Citation. ] It was my fortune not long since to light upon
such a place: I had languishingly traced after some French words, so
naked and shallow, and so void either of sense or matter, that at
last I found them to be nought but meere French words; and after a
tedious and wearisome travell, I chanced to stumble upon an high,
rich, and even to the clouds-raised piece, the descent whereof had
it been somewhat more pleasant or easie, or the ascent reaching a
little further, it had been excusable, and to be borne with-all; but
it was such a steepie downe-fall, and by meere strength hewen out of
the maine rocke, that by reading of the first six words, me thought
I was carried into another world: whereby I perceive the bottome
whence I came to be so low and deep, as I durst never more adventure
to go through it; for, if I did stuffe any one of my discourses with
those rich spoiles, it would manifestly cause the sottishnesse
[Footnote: Foolishness. ] of others to appeare. To reprove mine owne
faults in others, seemes to me no more unsufferable than to
reprehend (as I doe often) those of others in my selfe. They ought
to be accused every where, and have all places of Sanctuarie taken
from them: yet do I know how over boldly, at all times I adventure
to equall my selfe unto my filchings, and to march hand in hand with
them; not without a fond hardie hope, that I may perhaps be able to
bleare the eyes of the Judges from discerning them. But it is as
much for the benefit of my application, as for the good of mine
invention and force. And I doe not furiously front, and bodie to
bodie wrestle with those old champions: it is but by flights,
advantages, and false offers I seek to come within them, and if I
can, to give them a fall. I do not rashly take them about the necke,
I doe but touch them, nor doe I go so far as by my bargaine I would
seeme to doe; could I but keepe even with them, I should then be an
honest man; for I seeke not to venture on them, but where they are
strongest. To doe as I have seen some, that is, to shroud themselves
under other armes, not daring so much as to show their fingers ends
unarmed, and to botch up all their works (as it is an easie matter
in a common subject, namely for the wiser sort) with ancient
inventions, here and there hudled up together. And in those who
endeavoured to hide what they have filched from others, and make it
their owne, it is first a manifest note of injustice, then a plaine
argument of cowardlinesse; who having nothing of any worth in
themselves to make show of, will yet under the countenance of others
sufficiencie goe about to make a faire offer: Moreover (oh great
foolishnesse) to seek by such cosening [Footnote: Cheating. ] tricks
to forestall the ignorant approbation of the common sort, nothing
fearing to discover their ignorance to men of understanding (whose
praise only is of value) who will soone trace out such borrowed
ware. As for me, there is nothing I will doe lesse. I never speake
of others, but that I may the more speake of my selfe. This
concerneth not those mingle-mangles of many kinds of stuffe, or as
the Grecians call them Rapsodies, that for such are published, of
which kind I have (since I came to yeares of discretion) seen divers
most ingenious and wittie; amongst others, one under the name of
Capilupus; besides many of the ancient stampe. These are wits of
such excellence, as both here and elsewhere they will soone be
perceived, as our late famous writer Lipsius, in his learned and
laborious work of the Politikes: yet whatsoever come of it, for so
much as they are but follies, my intent is not to smother them, no
more than a bald and hoarie picture of mine, where a Painter hath
drawne not a perfect visage, but mine owne. For, howsoever, these
are but my humors and opinions, and I deliver them but to show what
my conceit [Footnote: notion] is, and not what ought to be beleeved.
Wherein I ayme at nothing but to display my selfe, who peradventure
(if a new prentiship change me) shall be another to morrow. I have
no authoritie to purchase beliefe, neither do I desire it; knowing
well that I am not sufficiently taught to instruct others. Some
having read my precedent Chapter [Footnote: "Of Pedantism"], told me
not long since in mine owne house, I should somewhat more have
extended my selfe in the discourse concerning the institution of
children. Now (Madam) if there were any sufficiencie in me touching
that subject, I could not better employ the same than to bestow it
as a present upon that little lad, which ere long threatneth to make
a happie issue from out your honorable woombe; for (Madame) you are
too generous to begin with other than a man childe. And having had
so great a part in the conduct of your successeful marriage, I may
challenge some right and interest in the greatnesse and prosperitie
of all that shall proceed from it: moreover, the ancient and
rightfull possession, which you from time to time have ever had, and
still have over my service, urgeth me with more than ordinarie
respects, to wish all honour, well-fare and advantage to whatsoever
may in any sort concerne you and yours. And truly, my meaning is but
to show that the greatest difficultie, and importing all humane
knowledge, seemeth to be in this point, where the nurture and
institution of young children is in question. For, as in matters of
husbandrie, the labor that must be used before sowing, setting, and
planting, yea in planting itselfe, is most certaine and easie. But
when that which was sowen, set and planted, commeth to take life;
before it come to ripenesse, much adoe, and great varietie of
proceeding belongeth to it. So in men, it is no great matter to get
them, but being borne, what continuall cares, what diligent
attendance, what doubts and feares, doe daily wait to their parents
and tutors, before they can be nurtured and brought to any good? The
fore-shew of their inclination whilest they are young is so
uncertaine, their humours so variable, their promises so changing,
their hopes so false, and their proceedings so doubtful, that it is
very hard (yea for the wisest) to ground any certaine judgment, or
assured successe upon them. Behold Cymon, view Themistocles, and a
thousand others, how they have differed, and fallen to better from
themselves, and deceive the expectation of such as knowe them. The
young whelps both of Dogges and Beares at first sight shew their
naturall disposition, but men headlong embracing this custome or
fashion, following that humor or opinion, admitting this or that
passion, allowing of that or this law, are easily changed, and soone
disguised; yet it is hard to force the naturall propension or
readinesse of the mind, whereby it followeth, that for want of
heedie fore-sight in those that could not guide their course well,
they often employ much time in vaine, to addresse young children in
those matters whereunto they are not naturally addicted. All which
difficulties notwithstanding, mine opinion is, to bring them up in
the best and profitablest studies, and that a man should slightly
passe over those fond presages, and deceiving prognostikes, which we
over precisely gather in their infancie. And (without offence be it
said) me thinks that Plato in his "Commonwealth" allowed them too-
too much authoritie.
Madame, Learning joyned with true knowledge is an especiall and
gracefull ornament, and an implement of wonderful use and
consequence, namely, in persons raised to that degree of fortune
wherein you are. And in good truth, learning hath not her owne true
forme, nor can she make shew of her beauteous lineaments, if she
fall into the hands of base and vile persons. [For, as famous
Torquato Tasso saith: "Philosophie being a rich and noble Queene,
and knowing her owne worth, graciously smileth upon and lovingly
embraceth Princes and noble men, if they become suiters to her,
admitting them as her minions, and gently affoording them all the
favours she can; whereas upon the contrarie, if she be wooed, and
sued unto by clownes, mechanicall fellowes, and such base kind of
people, she holds herselfe disparaged and disgraced, as holding no
proportion with them. And therefore see we by experience, that if a
true Gentleman or nobleman follow her with any attention, and woo
her with importunitie, he shall learne and know more of her, and
prove a better scholler in one yeare, than an ungentle or base
fellow shall in seven, though he pursue her never so attentively. "]
She is much more readie and fierce to lend her furtherance and
direction in the conduct of a warre, to attempt honourable actions,
to command a people, to treat a peace with a prince of forraine
nation, than she is to forme an argument in Logick, to devise a
Syllogisme, to canvase a case at the barre, or to prescribe a receit
of pills. So (noble Ladie) forsomuch as I cannot perswade myselfe,
that you will either forget or neglect this point, concerning the
institution of yours, especially having tasted the sweetnesse
thereof, and being descended of so noble and learned a race. For we
yet possesse the learned compositions of the ancient and noble
Earles of Foix, from out whose heroicke loynes your husband and you
take your of-spring. And Francis Lord of Candale, your worthie
uncle, doth daily bring forth such fruits thereof, as the knowledge
of the matchlesse qualitie of your house shall hereafter extend
itselfe to many ages; I will therefore make you acquainted with one
conceit of mine, which contrarie to the common use I hold, and that
is all I am able to affoord you concerning that matter. The charge
of the Tutor, which you shall appoint your sonne, in the choice of
whom consisteth the whole substance of his education and bringing
up; on which are many branches depending, which (forasmuch as I can
adde nothing of any moment to it) I will not touch at all. And for
that point, wherein I presume to advise him, he may so far forth
give credit unto it, as he shall see just cause. To a gentleman
borne of noble parentage, and heire of a house that aymeth at true
learning, and in it would be disciplined, not so much for gane or
commoditie to himselfe (because so abject an end is far unworthie
the grace and favour of the Muses, and besides, hath a regard or
dependencie of others) nor for externall shew and ornament, but to
adorne and enrich his inward minde, desiring rather to shape and
institute an able and sufficient man, than a bare learned man; my
desire is therefore, that the parents or overseers of such a
gentleman be very circumspect, and careful in chusing his director,
whom I would rather commend for having a well composed and temperate
braine, than a full stuft head, yet both will doe well. And I would
rather prefer wisdome, judgement, civill customes, and modest
behaviour, than bare and meere literall learning; and that in his
charge he hold a new course. Some never cease brawling in their
schollers eares (as if they were still pouring in a tonell) to
follow their booke, yet is their charge nothing else but to repeat
what hath beene told them before. I would have a tutor to correct
this part, and that at first entrance, according to the capacitie of
the wit he hath in hand, he should begin to make shew of it, making
him to have a smacke of all things, and how to choose and
distinguish them, without helpe of others, sometimes opening him the
way, other times leaving him to open it by himselfe. I would not
have him to invent and speake alone, but suffer his disciple to
speake when his turne commeth. Socrates, and after him Arcesilaus,
made their schollers to speake first, and then would speake
themselves. Obest plerumque iis qui discere volunt, auctoritas eorum
qui docent: [Footnote: CIC. De Nat. 1. i] "Most commonly the
authoritie of them that teach, hinders them that would learne. "
It is therefore meet that he make him first trot-on before him,
whereby he may the better judge of his pace, and so guesse how long
he will hold out, that accordingly he may fit his strength; for want
of which proportion we often marre all. And to know how to make a
good choice, and how far forth one may proceed (still keeping a due
measure), is one of the hardest labours I know. It is a signe of a
noble, and effect of an undanted spirit, to know how to second, and
how far forth he shall condescend to his childish proceedings, and
how to guide them. As for myselfe, I can better and with more
strength walke up than downe a hill. Those which, according to our
common fashion, undertake with one selfe-same lesson, and like maner
of education, to direct many spirits of divers formes and different
humours, it is no marvell if among a multitude of children, they
scarce meet with two or three that reap any good fruit by their
discipline, or that come to any perfection. I would not only have
him to demand an accompt of the words contained in his lesson, but
of the sense and substance thereof, and judge of the profit he hath
made of it, not by the testimonie of his memorie, but by the
witnesse of his life. That what he lately learned, he cause him to
set forth and pourtray the same into sundrie shapes, and then to
accommodate it to as many different and severall subjects, whereby
he shal perceive, whether he have yet apprehended the same, and
therein enfeoffed himselfe, [Footnote: Taken possession. ] at due
times taking his instruction from the institution given by Plato. It
is a signe of cruditie and indigestion for a man to yeeld up his
meat, even as he swallowed the same; the stomacke hath not wrought
his full operation, unlesse it have changed forme, and altered
fashion of that which was given him to boyle and concoct.
[Wee see men gape after no reputation but learning, and when they
say, such a one is a learned man, they thinke they have said
enough;] Our minde doth move at others pleasure, and tyed and forced
to serve the fantasies of others, being brought under by authoritie,
and forced to stoope to the lure of their bare lesson; wee have
beene so subjected to harpe upon one string, that we have no way
left us to descant upon voluntarie; our vigor and libertie is cleane
extinct. Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt: "They never come to their owne
tuition. " It was my hap to bee familiarlie acquainted with an honest
man at Pisa, but such an Aristotelian, as he held this infallible
position; that a conformitie to Aristotles doctrine was the true
touchstone and squire [Footnote: Square. ] of all solid imaginations
and perfect veritie; for, whatsoever had no coherencie with it, was
but fond Chimeraes and idle humors; inasmuch as he had knowne all,
seene all, and said all. This proposition of his being somewhat over
amply and injuriously interpreted by some, made him a long time
after to be troubled in the inquisition of Rome. I would have him
make his scholler narrowly to sift all things with discretion, and
harbour nothing in his head by mere authoritie, or upon trust.
Aristotles principles shall be no more axiomes unto him, than the
Stoikes or Epicurians. Let this diversitie of judgements be proposed
unto him, if he can, he shall be able to distinguish the truth from
falsehood, if not, he will remaine doubtful.
Che non men che saper dubbiar m'aggrata.
[Footnote: DANTE, Inferno, cant. xi. 93. ]
No lesse it pleaseth me,
To doubt, than wise to be.
For if by his owne discourse he embrace the opinions of Xenophon or
of Plato, they shall be no longer theirs, but his. He that meerely
followeth another, traceth nothing, and seeketh nothing: Non sumus
sub Rege, sibi quisque se vindicet: [Footnote: SEN. Epist. xxxiii. ]
"We are not under a Kings command, every one may challenge himselfe,
for let him at least know that he knoweth. " It is requisite he
endevour as much to feed himselfe with their conceits, as labour to
learne their precepts; which, so he know how to applie, let him
hardily forget, where or whence he had them. Truth and reason are
common to all, and are no more proper unto him that spake them
heretofore, then unto him that shall speake them hereafter. And it
is no more according to Platoes opinion than to mine, since both he
and I understand and see alike. The Bees do here and there sucke
this and cull that flower, but afterward they produce the hony,
which is peculiarly their owne, then is it no more Thyme or Majoram.
So of peeces borrowed of others, he may lawfully alter, transforme,
and confound them, to shape out of them a perfect peece of worke,
altogether his owne; alwaies provided his judgement, his travell,
[Footnote: Travail, labor. ] studie, and institution tend to nothing,
but to frame the same perfect. Let him hardily conceale where or
whence he hath had any helpe, and make no shew of anything, but of
that which he hath made himselfe. Pirates, pilchers, and borrowers,
make a shew of their purchases and buildings, but not of that which
they have taken from others: you see not the secret fees or bribes
Lawyers take of their Clients, but you shall manifestly discover the
alliances they make, the honours they get for their children, and
the goodly houses they build. No man makes open shew of his receits,
but every one of his gettings. The good that comes of studie (or at
least should come) is to prove better, wiser and honester. It is the
understanding power (said Epicharmus) that seeth and heareth, it is
it that profiteth all and disposeth all, that moveth, swayeth, and
ruleth all: all things else are but blind, senselesse, and without
spirit. And truly in barring him of libertie to doe any thing of
himselfe, we make him thereby more servile and more coward. Who
would ever enquire of his scholler what he thinketh of Rhetorike, of
Grammar, of this or of that sentence of Cicero? Which things
thoroughly fethered (as if they were oracles) are let flie into our
memorie; in which both letters and syllables are substantiall parts
of the subject.
