THOMAS FULLER.

_Born 1608. Died 1661._

He was of Stature somewhat Tall, exceeding the meane, with a

proportionable bigness to become it, but no way inclining to

Corpulency: of an exact Straightnesse of the whole Body, and a perfect

Symmetry in every part thereof. He was of a Sanguine constitution,

which beautified his Face with a pleasant Ruddinesse, but of so

Grave and serious an aspect, that it Awed and Discountenanced the

smiling Attracts of that complexion. His Head Adorned with a comely

Light-Coloured Haire, which was so, by Nature exactly Curled (an

Ornament enough of it self in this Age to Denominate a handsome

person, and wherefore all Skill and Art is used) but not suffered to

overgrow to any length unseeming his modesty and Profession.

His Gate and Walking was very upright and graceful, becoming his well

shapen Bulke: approaching something near to that we terme Majesticall;

but that the Doctor was so well known to be void of any affectation or

pride. Nay so Regardlesse was he of himselfe in his Garb and Rayment,

in which no doubt his Vanity would have appeared, as well as in his

stately pace: that it was with some trouble to himselfe, to be either

Neat or Decent; it matter'd not for the outside, while he thought

himself never too Curious and Nice in the Dresses of his mind.

Very Carelesse also he was to seeming inurbanity in the modes of

Courtship and demeanour, deporting himself much according to the old

_English_ Guise, which for its ease and simplicity suited very well

with the Doctor, whose time was designed for more Elaborate businesse:

and whose MOTTO might have been sincerity.

As inobservant he was of persons, unless businesse with them, or his

concerns pointed them out and adverted him; seeing and discerning were

two things: often in several places, hath he met with Gentlemen of

his nearest and greatest Acquaintance, at a full rencounter and stop,

whom he hath endeavoured to passe by, not knowing, that is to say,

not minding of them, till rectifyed and recalled by their familiar

compellations.

This will not (it may be presumed) and justly cannot be imputed unto

any indisposednesse and unaptnesse of his Nature, which was so far

from Rude and untractable, that it may be confidently averred, he

was the most complacent person in the Nation, as his Converse and

Writings, with such a freedome of Discourse and quick Jocundity of

style, do sufficiently evince.

He was a perfect walking Library, and those that would finde delight

in him must turn him; he was to be diverted from his present purpose

with some urgency: and when once Unfixed and Unbent, his mind freed

from the incumbency of his Study; no Man could be more agreeable to

Civil and Serious mirth, which limits his most heightned Fancy never

transgressed.

He had the happinesse of a very Honourable, and that very numerous

acquaintance, so that he was noway undisciplined in the Arts of

Civility; yet he continued _semper idem_, which constancy made him

alwaies acceptable to them. At his Diet he was very sparing and

temperate, but yet he allowed himself the repasts and refreshings

of two Meals a day: but no lover of Danties, or the Inventions of

Cookery: solid meats better fitting his strength of Constitution; but

from drink very much abstemious, which questionlesse was the cause

of that uninterrupted Health he enjoyed till this his First and Last

sicknesse: of which Felicity as he himself was partly the cause of by

his exactnesse in eating and drinking, so did he the more dread the

sudden infliction of any Disease, or other violence of Nature, fearing

this his care might amount to a presumption, in the Eyes of the great

Disposer of all things, and so it pleased GOD it should happen.

But his great abstinence of all was from Sleep, and strange it was

that one of such a Fleshly and sanguine composition, could overwatch

so many heavy propense inclinations to Rest. For this in some sort

he was beholden to his care in Diet aforesaid, (the full Vapours of

a repletion in the Stomack ascending to the Brain, causing that usual

Drowsinesse we see in many) but most especially to his continual

custome, use, and practise, which had so subdued his Nature, that it

was wholy Governed by his Active and Industrious mind.

And yet this is a further wonder: he did scarcely allow himself, from

his First Degree in the University, any Recreation or Easie Exercise,

no not so much as walking, but very Rare and Seldome; and that not

upon his own choice, but as being compelled by friendly, yet, Forcible

Invitations; till such time as the War posted him from place to place,

and after that his constant attendance on the Presse in the Edition

of his Books: when was a question, which went the fastest, his Head or

his Feet: so that in effect he was a very stranger, if not an Enemy to

all pleasure.

Riding was the most pleasant, because his necessary convenience; the

Doctors occasions, especially his last work, requiring Travel, to

which he had so accustomed himself: so that this Diversion, (like

Princes Banquets only to be lookt upon by them, not tasted of) was

rather made such then enjoyed by him.

So that if there were any Felicity or Delight, which he can be truly

said to have had: it was either in his Relations or in his Works. As

to his Relations, certainly, no man was more a tender, more indulgent

a Husband and a Father: his Conjugal Love in both matches being

equally blest with the same Issue, kept a constant Tenour in both

Marriages, which he so improved, that the Harmony of his Affections

still'd all Discord, and Charmed the noyse of passion.

Towards the Education of his Children, he was exceeding carefull,

allowing them any thing conducing to that end, beyond the present

measure of his estate; which its well hoped will be returned to the

Memory of so good a Father, in their early imitation of him in all

those good Qualities and Literature, to which they have now such an

Hereditary clayme.

As to his Books, which we usually call the Issue of the Brain, he was

more then Fond, totally abandoning and forsaking all things to follow

them. And yet if Correction and Severity (so this may be allowed the

gravity of the Subject) be also the signes of Love: a stricter and

more carefull hand was never used. True it is they did not grow up

without some errours, like the Tares: nor can the most refined pieces

of any of his Antagonists boast of perfection. He that goes an unknown

and beaten Track in a Dubious way, though he may have good directions,

yet if in the journey he chance to stray, cannot well be blamed; they

have perchance plowed with his Heifer, and been beholden to those

Authorities (for their Exceptions) which he first gave light to.

To his Neighbours and Friends he behaved himselfe with that

chearfulnesse and plainnesse of Affection and respect, as deservedly

gained him their Highest esteeme: from the meanest to the highest

he omitted nothing what to him belonged in his station, either in

a familiar correspondency, or necessary Visits; never suffering

intreaties of that which either was his Duty, or in his power to

perform. The quickness of his apprehension helped by a Good Nature,

presently suggested unto him (without putting them to the trouble of

an _innuendo_) what their severall Affairs required, in which he would

spare no paynes: insomuch that it was a piece of Absolute Prudence

to rely upon his Advice and Assistance. In a word, to his Superiours

he was Dutifully respectfull without Ceremony or Officiousnesse;

to his equalls he was Discreetly respectful, without neglect or

unsociableness; and to his Inferiours, (whom indeed he judged

Christianly none to be) civilly respectfull without Pride or Disdain.

But all these so eminent vertues, and so sublimed in him, were but

as foyles to those excellent gifts wherewith God had endued his

intellectuals. He had a Memory of that vast comprehensiveness, that he

is deservedly known for the first inventer of that Noble Art, whereof

having left behind him no Rules, or directions, save, onely what fell

from him in discours, no further account can be given, but a relation

of some very rare experiments of it made by him.

He undertook once in passing to and fro from _Templebar_ to the

furthest Conduit in _Cheapside_, at his return again to tell every

Signe as they stood in order on both sides of the way, repeating them

either backward or forward, as they should chuse, which he exactly

did, not missing or misplacing one, to the admiration of those that

heard him.

The like also would he doe in words of different Languages, and of

hard and difficult prolation, to any number whatsoever: but that which

was most strange, and very rare in him, was his way of writing, which

something like the _Chineses_, was from the top of the page to the

bottom: the manner thus. He would write near the Margin the first

words of every Line down to the Foot of the Paper, then would he

begining at the head againe, fill up every one of these Lines, which

without any interlineations or spaces but with the full and equal

length, would so adjust the sense and matter, and so aptly Connex and

Conjoyn the ends and beginnings of the said Lines, that he could

not do it better, as he hath said, if he had writ all out in a

Continuation.

57.

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