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. To know by roat is no perfect knowledge, but to keep

what one hath committed to his memories charge, is commendable: what

a man directly knoweth, that will he dispose of, without turning

still to his booke or looking to his pattern. A meere bookish

sufficiencie is unpleasant. All I expect of it is an imbellishing of

my actions, and not a foundation of them, according to Platoes mind,

who saith, constancie, faith, and sinceritie are true Philosophie;

as for other Sciences, and tending elsewhere, they are but garish

paintings. I would faine have Paluel or Pompey, those two excellent

dauncers of our time, with all their nimblenesse, teach any man to

doe their loftie tricks and high capers, only with seeing them done,

and without stirring out of his place, as some Pedanticall fellowes

would instruct our minds without moving or putting it in practice.

And glad would I be to find one that would teach us how to manage a

horse, to tosse a pike, to shoot-off a peece, to play upon the lute,

or to warble with the voice, without any exercise, as these kind of

men would teach us to judge, and how to speake well, without any

exercise of speaking or judging. In which kind of life, or as I may

terme it, Prentiship, what action or object soever presents itselfe

into our eies, may serve us in stead of a sufficient booke. A

prettie pranke of a boy, a knavish tricke of a page, a foolish part

of a lackey, an idle tale or any discourse else, spoken either in

jest or earnest, at the table or in companie, are even as new

subjects for us to worke upon: for furtherance whereof, commerce or

common societie among men, visiting of forraine countries, and

observing of strange fashions, are verie necessary, not only to be

able (after the manner of our yong gallants of France) to report how

many paces the Church of Santa Rotonda is in length or breadth, or

what rich garments the curtezan Signora Livia weareth, and the worth

of her hosen; or as some do, nicely to dispute how much longer or

broader the face of Nero is, which they have seene in some old

ruines of Italie, than that which is made for him in other old

monuments else-where. But they should principally observe, and be

able to make certaine relation of the humours and fashions of those

countries they have seene, that they may the better know how to

correct and prepare their wits by those of others. I would therefore

have him begin even from his infancie to travell abroad; and first,

that at one shoot he may hit two markes he should see neighbour-

countries, namely where languages are most different from ours; for,

unlesse a mans tongue be fashioned unto them in his youth, he shall

never attaine to the true pronunciation of them if he once grow in

yeares. Moreover, we see it received as a common opinion of the

wiser sort, that it agreeth not with reason, that a childe be

alwaies nuzzled, cockered, dandled, and brought up in his parents

lap or sight; forsomuch as their naturall kindnesse, or (as I may

call it) tender fondnesse, causeth often, even the wisest to prove

so idle, so over-nice, and so base-minded. For parents are not

capable, neither can they find in their hearts to see them checkt,

corrected, or chastised, nor indure to see them brought up so

meanly, and so far from daintinesse, and many times so dangerously,

as they must needs be. And it would grieve them to see their

children come home from those exercises, that a Gentleman must

necessarily acquaint himselfe with, sometimes all wet and bemyred,

other times sweatie and full of dust, and to drinke being either

extreme hot or exceeding cold; and it would trouble them to see him

ride a rough-untamed horse, or with his weapon furiously incounter a

skilful Fencer, or to handle or shoot-off a musket; against which

there is no remedy, if he will make him prove a sufficient,

compleat, or honest man: he must not be spared in his youth; and it

will come to passe, that he shall many times have occasion and be

forced to shocke the rules of Physicke.

Vitamque sub dio et trepidis agat

In rebus.

[Footnote: Hor. I. i. Od. ii. 4.]

Leade he his life in open aire,

And in affaires full of despaire.

It is not sufficient to make his minde strong, his muskles must also

be strengthened: the mind is over-borne if it be not seconded: and

it is too much for her alone to discharge two offices. I have a

feeling how mine panteth, being joyned to so tender and sensible

[Footnote: Sensitive.] a bodie, and that lieth so heavie upon it And

in my lecture, I often perceive how my Authors in their writings

sometimes commend examples for magnanimitie and force, that rather

proceed from a thicke skin and hardnes of the bones. I have knowne

men, women and children borne of so hard a constitution, that a blow

with a cudgell would lesse hurt them, than a filip would doe me, and

so dull and blockish, that they will neither stir tongue nor

eyebrowes, beat them never so much. When wrestlers goe about to

counterfeit the Philosophers patience, they rather shew the vigor of

their sinnewes than of their heart. For the custome to beare

travell, is to tolerate griefe: Labor callum obducit dolori.

[Footnote: Cic. Tusc. Qu. I. ii.] "Labour worketh a hardnesse upon

sorrow." Hee must be enured to suffer the paine and hardnesse of

exercises, that so he may be induced to endure the paine of the

colicke, of cauterie, of fals, of sprains, and other diseases

incident to mans bodie: yea, if need require, patiently to beare

imprisonment and other tortures, by which sufferance he shall come

to be had in more esteeme and accompt: for according to time and

place, the good as well as the bad man may haply fall into them; we

have seen it by experience. Whosoever striveth against the lawes,

threats good men with mischiefe and extortion. Moreover, the

authoritie of the Tutor (who should be soveraigne over him) is by

the cockering and presence of the parents, hindred and interrupted:

besides the awe and respect which the houshold beares him, and the

knowledge of the meane, possibilities, and greatnesse of his house,

are in my judgement no small lets [Footnote: Hindrances.]in a young

Gentleman. In this schoole of commerce, and societie among men, I

have often noted this vice, that in lieu of taking acquaintance of

others, we only endevour to make our selves knowne to them: and we

are more ready to utter such merchandize as we have, than to

ingrosse and purchase new commodities. Silence and modestie are

qualities very convenient to civil conversation. It is also

necessary that a young man be rather taught to be discreetly-sparing

and close-handed, than prodigally-wastfull and lavish in his

expences, and moderate in husbanding his wealth when he shall come

to possesse it. And not to take pepper in the nose for every foolish

tale that shall be spoken in his presence, because it is an uncivil

importunity to contradict whatsoever is not agreeing to our humour:

let him be pleased to correct himselfe. And let him not seeme to

blame that in others which he refuseth to doe himselfe, nor goe

about to withstand common fashions, Licet sapere sine pompa, sine

invidia: [Footnote: SEN. Epist. ciii. f.] "A man may bee wise

without ostentation, without envie." Let him avoid those imperious

images of the world, those uncivil behaviours and childish ambition

wherewith, God wot, too-too many are possest: that is, to make a

faire shew of that which is not in him: endevouring to be reputed

other than indeed he is; and as if reprehension and new devices were

hard to come by, he would by that meane acquire into himselfe the

name of some peculiar vertue. As it pertaineth but to great Poets to

use the libertie of arts; so is it tolerable but in noble minds and

great spirits to have a preheminence above ordinarie fashions. Si

quid Socrates et Aristippus contra morem et consuetudinem fecerunt,

idem sibi ne arbitretur licere: Magis enim illi et divinis bonis

hanc licentiam assequebantur: [Footnote: CIC. Off. 1. i.] "If

Socrates and Aristippus have done ought against custome or good

manner, let not a man thinke he may doe the same: for they obtained

this licence by their great and excellent good parts:" He shall be

taught not to enter rashly into discourse or contesting, but when he

shall encounter with a Champion worthie his strength; And then would

I not have him imploy all the tricks that may fit his turne, but

only such as may stand him in most stead. That he be taught to be

curious in making choice of his reasons, loving pertinency, and by

consequence brevitie. That above all, he be instructed to yeeld, yea

to quit his weapons unto truth, as soone as he shall discerne the

same, whether it proceed from his adversarie, or upon better advice

from himselfe; for he shall not be preferred to any place of

eminencie above others, for repeating of a prescript [Footnote:

Fixed beforehand.] part; and he is not engaged to defend any cause,

further than he may approove it; nor shall he bee of that trade

where the libertie for a man to repent and re-advise himselfe is

sold for readie money, Neque, ut omnia, que praescripta et imperata

sint, defendat, necessitate ulla cogitur: [Footnote: CIC. Acad. Qu.

I. iv.] "Nor is he inforced by any necessitie to defend and make

good all that is prescribed and commanded him." If his tutor agree

with my humour, he shall frame his affection to be a most loyall and

true subject to his Prince, and a most affectionate and couragious

Gentleman in al that may concerne the honor of his Soveraigne or the

good of his countrie, and endevour to suppresse in him all manner of

affection to undertake any action Otherwise than for a publike good

and dutie. Besides many inconveniences, which greatly prejudice our

libertie by reason of these particular bonds, the judgment of a man

that is waged and bought, either it is lesse free and honest, or

else it is blemisht with oversight and ingratitude. A meere and

precise Courtier can neither have law nor will to speake or thinke

otherwise than favourablie of his Master, who among so many

thousands of his subjects hath made choice of him alone, to

institute and bring him up with his owne hand. These favours, with

the commodities that follow minion [Footnote: Favorite.] Courtiers,

corrupt (not without some colour of reason) his libertie, and dazle

his judgement. It is therefore commonly scene that the Courtiers-

language differs from other mens, in the same state, and to be of no

great credit in such matters. Let therefore his conscience and

vertue shine in his speech, and reason be his chiefe direction, Let

him be taught to confesse such faults as he shall discover in his

owne discourses, albeit none other perceive them but himselfe; for

it is an evident shew of judgement, and effect of sinceritie, which

are the chiefest qualities he aymeth at. That wilfully to strive,

and obstinately to contest in words, are common qualities, most

apparent in basest mindes: That to readvise and correct himselfe,

and when one is most earnest, to leave an ill opinion, are rare,

noble, and Philosophicall conditions. Being in companie, he shall be

put in minde, to cast his eyes round about, and every where: For I

note, that the chiefe places are usually seezed upon by the most

unworthie and lesse capable; and that height of fortune is seldome

joyned with sufficiencie. I have scene that whilst they at the upper

end of a board were busie entertaining themselves with talking of

the beautie of the hangings about a chamber, or of the taste of some

good cup of wine, many good discourses at the lower end have utterly

been lost. He shall weigh the carriage of every man in his calling,

a Heardsman, a Mason, a Stranger, or a Traveller; all must be

imployed; every one according to his worth; for all helps to make up

houshold; yea, the follie and the simplicitie of others shall be as

instructions to him. By controlling the graces and manners of

others, he shall acquire unto himselfe envie of the good and

contempt of the bad. Let him hardly be possest with an honest

curiositie to search out the nature and causes of all things: let

him survay whatsoever is rare and singular about him; a building, a

fountaine, a man, a place where any battell hath been fought, or the

passages of Caesar or Charlemaine.

Quae tellus sit lenta gelu, qua putris ab aestu,

Ventus in Italiam quis bene vela ferat.

[Footnote: Prop. 1. iv. El. iii. 39.]

What land is parcht with heat, what clog'd with frost.

What wind drives kindly to th' Italian coast.

He shall endevour to be familiarly acquainted with the customes,

with the meanes, with the state, with the dependances and alliances

of all Princes; they are things soone and pleasant to be learned,

and most profitable to be knowne. In this acquaintance of men, my

intending is, that hee chiefely comprehend them, that live but by

the memorie of bookes. He shall, by the help of Histories, in forme

himselfe of the worthiest minds that were in the best ages. It is a

frivolous studie, if a man list, but of unvaluable worth to such as

can make use of it, and as Plato saith, the only studie the

Lacedemonians reserved for themselves. What profit shall he not

reap, touching this point, reading the lives of our Plutark? Alwayes

conditioned, the master bethinke himselfe whereto his charge

tendeth, and that he imprint not so much in his schollers mind the

date of the ruine of Carthage, as the manners of Hanniball and

Scipio, nor so much where Marcellus died, as because he was unworthy

of his devoire [Footnote: Task.] he died there: that he teach him

not so much to know Histories as to judge of them. It is amongst

things that best agree with my humour, the subject to which our

spirits doe most diversly applie themselves. I have read in Titus

Livius a number of things, which peradventure others never read, in

whom Plutarke haply read a hundred more than ever I could read, and

which perhaps the author himselfe did never intend to set downe. To

some kind of men it is a meere gramaticali studie, but to others a

perfect anatomie [Footnote: Dissection, analytical exposition.] of

Philosophie; by meanes whereof the secretest part of our nature is

searched into. There are in Plutarke many ample discourses most

worthy to be knowne: for in my judgement, he is the chiefe work-

master of such works, whereof there are a thousand, whereat he hath

but slightly glanced; for with his finger he doth but point us out a

way to walke in, if we list; and is sometimes pleased to give but a

touch at the quickest and maine point of a discourse, from whence

they are by diligent studie to be drawne, and so brought into open

market. As that saying of his, That the inhabitants of Asia served

but one alone, because they could not pronounce one onely syllable,

which is Non, gave perhaps both subject and occasion to my friend

Boetie to compose his booke of voluntarie servitude. If it were no

more but to see Plutarke wrest a slight action to mans life, or a

word that seemeth to beare no such sence, it will serve for a whole

discourse. It is pittie men of understanding should so much love

brevitie; without doubt their reputation is thereby better, but we

the worse. Plutarke had rather we should commend him for his

judgement than for his knowledge, he loveth better to leave a kind

of longing-desire in us of him, than a satietie. He knew verie well

that even in good things too much may be said: and that Alexandridas

did justly reprove him who spake verie good sentences to the

Ephores, but they were over tedious. Oh stranger, quoth he, thou

speakest what thou oughtest, otherwise then [Footnote: Than.] thou

shouldest. Those that have leane and thin bodies stuffe them up with

bumbasting. [Footnote: Padding.] And such as have but poore matter,

will puffe it up with loftie words. There is a marvelous

cleerenesse, or as I may terme it an enlightning of mans judgement

drawne from the commerce of men, and by frequenting abroad in the

world; we are all so contrived and compact in our selves, that our

sight is made shorter by the length of our nose. When Socrates was

demaunded whence he was, he answered, not of Athens, but of the

world; for he, who had his imagination more full and farther

stretching, embraced all the world for his native Citie, and

extended his acquaintance, his societie, and affections to all man-

kind: and not as we do, that looke no further than our feet. If the

frost chance to nip the vines about my village, my Priest doth

presently argue that the wrath of God hangs over our head, and

threatneth all mankind: and judgeth that the Pippe [Footnote: A

disease.] is alreadie falne upon the Canibals.

In viewing these intestine and civill broiles of ours, who doth not

exclaime, that this worlds vast frame is neere unto a dissolution,

and that the day of judgement is readie to fall on us? never

remembering that many worse revolutions have been seene, and that

whilest we are plunged in griefe, and overwhelmed in sorrow, a

thousand other parts of the world besides are blessed with

happinesse, and wallow in pleasures, and never thinke on us?

whereas, when I behold our lives, our licence, and impunitie, I

wonder to see them so milde and easie. He on whose head it haileth,

thinks all the Hemispheare besides to be in a storme and tempest.

And as that dull-pated Savoyard said, that if the seelie [Footnote

31: Simple.] King of France could cunningly have managed his

fortune, he might verie well have made himselfe chiefe Steward of

his Lords household, whose imagination conceived no other greatnesse

than his Masters; we are all insensible of this kind of errour: an

errour of great consequence and prejudice. But whosoever shall

present unto his inward eyes, as it were in a Table, the Idea of the

great image of our universall mother Nature, attired in her richest

robes, sitting in the throne of her Majestic, and in her visage

shall read so generall and so constant a varietie; he that therein

shall view himselfe, not himselfe alone, but a whole Kingdome, to be

in respect of a great circle but the smallest point that can be

imagined, he onely can value things according to their essentiall

greatnesse and proportion. This great universe (which some multiplie

as Species under one Genus) is the true looking-glasse wherein we

must looke, if we will know whether we be of a good stamp or in the

right byase. To conclude, I would have this worlds-frame to be my

Schollers choise-booke. [Footnote: Book of examples] So many strange

humours, sundrie sects, varying judgements, diverse opinions,

different lawes, and fantasticall customes teach us to judge rightly

of ours, and instruct our judgement to acknowledge his imperfections

and naturall weaknesse, which is no easie an apprentiship: So many

innovations of estates, so many fals of Princes, and changes of

publike fortune, may and ought to teach us, not to make so great

accompt of ours: So many names, so many victories, and so many

conquests buried in darke oblivion, makes the hope to perpetuate our

names but ridiculous, by the surprising of ten Argo-lettiers,

[Footnote: Mounted Bowmen.] or of a small cottage, which is knowne

but by his fall. The pride and fiercenesse of so many strange and

gorgeous shewes: the pride-puft majestie of so many courts, and of

their greatnesse, ought to confirme and assure our sight,

undauntedly to beare the affronts and thunder-claps of ours, without

feeling our eyes: So many thousands of men, lowlaide in their graves

afore us, may encourage us not to feare, or be dismaied to go meet

so good companie in the other world, and so of all things else. Our

life (said Pithagoras) drawes neare unto the great and populous

assemblies of the Olympike games, wherein some, to get the glorie

and to win the goale of the games, exercise their bodies with all

industrie; others, for greedinesse of gaine, bring thither

marchandise to sell: others there are (and those be not the worst)

that seek after no other good, but to marke how wherefore, and to

what end, all things are done: and to be spectators or observers of

other mens lives and actions, that so they may the better judge and

direct their owne. Unto examples may all the most profitable

Discourses of Philosophic be sorted, which ought to be the touch-

stone of human actions, and a rule to square them by, to whom may be

said,

---quid fas optare, quid asper

Vtile nummus habet, patriae charisque propinquis

Quantum elargiri deceat, quem te Deus esse

lussit, et humana qua parte locaius es in re.

[Footnote: Pers. Sat. iii. 69.]

Quid sumus, aut quidnam victuri gignimur.

[Footnote: Ib. 67.]

What thou maiest wish, what profit may come cleare,

From new-stampt coyne, to friends and countrie deare

What thou ought'st give: whom God would have thee bee,

And in what part mongst men he placed thee.

What we are, and wherefore,

To live heer we were bore.

What it is to know, and not to know (which ought to be the scope of

studie), what valour, what temperance, and what justice is: what

difference there is betweene ambition and avarice, bondage and

freedome, subjection and libertie, by which markes a man may

distinguish true and perfect contentment, and how far-forth one

ought to feare or apprehend death, griefe, or shame.

Et quo quemque modo fugiatque. feratque laborem.

[Footnote: Virg. Aen. 1. iii. 853.]

How ev'ry labour he may plie,

And beare, or ev'ry labour flie.

What wards or springs move us, and the causes of so many motions in

us: For me seemeth, that the first discourses, wherewith his conceit

should be sprinkled, ought to be those that rule his manners and

direct his sense; which will both teach him to know himselfe, and

how to live and how to die well. Among the liberall Sciences, let us

begin with that which makes us free: Indeed, they may all, in some

sort stead us, as an instruction to our life, and use of it, as all

other things else serve the same to some purpose or other. But let

us make especiall choice of that which may directly and pertinently

serve the same. If we could restraine and adapt the appurtenances of

our life to their right byase and naturall limits, we should find

the best part of the Sciences that now are in use, cleane out of

fashion with us: yea, and in those that are most in use, there are

certaine by-wayes and deep-flows most profitable, which we should do

well to leave, and according to the institution of Socrates, limit

the course of our studies in those where profit is wanting.

----sapere aude,

Incipe: vivendi qui recte prorogat horam,

Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille

Labitur, et labetur in omne volubilis avum.

[Footnote: Hor. I. i. Epist. ii. 40.]

Be bold to be wise: to begin, be strong,

He that to live well doth the time prolong,

Clowne-like expects, till downe the streame be run,

That runs, and will run, till the world be done.

It is mere simplicitie to teach our children,

Quid moveant Pisces, animosaque signa Leonis,

Lotus et Hesperia quid Capricornus aqua.

[Footnote: Prop. I. El. i. 85.]

What Pisces move, or hot breath'd Leos beames,

Or Capricornus bath'd in western streames,

the knowledge of the starres, and the motion of the eighth spheare,

before their owne;

[Greek text quote omited]

[Footnote: Anacr. Od. xvii. 10, 12.]

What longs it to the seaven stars, and me,

Or those about Bootes be.

Anaximenes writing to Pythagoras, saith, "With what sense can I

amuse my selfe in the secrets of the Starres, having continually

death or bondage before mine eyes?" For at that time the Kings of

Persia were making preparations to war against his Countrie. All men

ought to say so: Being beaten with ambition, with avarice, with

rashnesse, and with superstition, and having such other enemies unto

life within him. Wherefore shall I study and take care about the

mobility and variation of the world? When hee is once taught what is

fit to make him better and wiser, he shall be entertained with

Logicke, naturall Philosophy, Geometry, and Rhetoricke, then having

setled his judgement, looke what science he doth most addict

himselfe unto, he shall in short time attaine to the perfection of

it. His lecture shall be somtimes by way of talke and sometimes by

booke: his tutor may now and then supply him with the same Author,

as an end and motive of his institution: sometimes giving him the

pith and substance of it ready chewed. And if of himselfe he be not

so throughly acquainted with bookes, that hee may readily find so

many notable discourses as are in them to effect his purpose, it

shall not be amisse that some learned man bee appointed to keepe

him, company, who at any time of need may furnish him with such

munition as hee shall stand in need of; that hee may afterward

distribute and dispense them to his best use. And that this kind of

lesson be more easie and naturall than that of Gaza, who will make

question? Those are but harsh, thornie, and unpleasant precepts;

vaine, idle and immaterial words, on which small hold may be taken;

wherein is nothing to quicken the minde. In this the spirit findeth

substance to bide and feed upon. A fruit without all comparison much

better, and that will soone be ripe. It is a thing worthy

consideration, to see what state things are brought unto in this our

age; and how Philosophie, even to the wisest, and men of best

understanding, is but an idle, vaine and fantasticall name, of small

use and lesse worth, both in opinion and effect. I thinke these

Sophistries are the cause of it, which have forestalled the wayes to

come unto it: They doe very ill that goe about to make it seeme as

it were inaccessible for children to come unto, setting it foorth

with a wrimpled [Footnote: wrinkled.] gastlie, and frowning visage;

who hath masked her with so counterfet, pale, and hideous a

countenance? There is nothing more beauteous, nothing more

delightful, nothing more gamesome; and as I may say, nothing more

fondly wanton: for she presenteth nothing to our eyes, and preacheth

nothing to our eares, but sport and pastime. A sad and lowring looke

plainly declareth that that is not her haunt. Demetrius the

Gramarian, finding a companie of Philosophers sitting close together

in the Temple of Delphos, said unto them, "Either I am deceived, or

by your plausible and pleasant lookes, you are not in any serious

and earnest discourse amongst your selves;" to whom one of them,

named Heracleon the Megarian, answered, "That belongeth to them, who

busie themselves in seeking whether the future tense of the verbe

___, hath a double, or that labour to find the derivation of the

comparatives, [omitted] and of the superlatives [omitted], it is

they that must chafe in intertaining themselves with their science:

as for discourses of Philosophie they are wont to glad, rejoyce, and

not to vex and molest those that use them."

Deprendas animi tormenta latentis in agro

Corpore, deprendas et gaudia; sumit utrumque

Inde habitum facies.

[Footnote: Juven, SAT. ix, 18]

You may perceive the torments of the mind,

Hid in sicke bodie, you the joyes may find;

The face such habit takes in either kind.

That mind which harboureth Philosophie, ought by reason of her sound

health, make that bodie also sound and healthie: it ought to make

her contentment to through-shine in all exteriour parts: it ought to

shapen and modell all outward demeanours to the modell of it: and by

consequence arme him that doth possesse it, with a gracious

stoutnesse and lively audacite, with an active and pleasing gesture,

and with a setled and cheerefull countenance. The most evident token

and apparant signe of true wisdome is a constant and unconstrained

rejoycing, whose estate is like unto all things above the Moone,

that is ever cleare, alwaies bright. It is Baroco [Footnote:

Mnemonic words invented by the scholastic logicians] and Baralipton

[Footnote: Mnemonic words invented by the scholastic logicians],

that makes their followers prove so base and idle, and not

Philosophie; they know her not but by heare-say; what? Is it not

shee that cleereth all stormes of the mind? And teacheth miserie,

famine, and sicknesse to laugh? Not by reason of some imaginarie

Epicicles [Footnote: A term of the old astronomy.], but by naturall

and palpable reasons. Shee aymeth at nothing but vertue; it is

vertue shee seekes after; which as the schoole saith, is not pitcht

on the top of an high, steepie, or inaccessible hill; for they that

have come unto her, affirme that cleane-contrarie shee keeps her

stand, and holds her mansion in a faire, flourishing, and pleasant

plaine, whence as from an high watch tower, she survaieth all

things, to be subject unto her, to whom any man may with great

facilitie come, if he but know the way or entrance to her palace:

for, the pathes that lead unto her are certaine fresh and shadie

greene allies, sweet and flowrie waies, whose ascent is even, easie,

and nothing wearisome, like unto that of heavens vaults. Forsomuch

as they have not frequented this vertue, who gloriously, as in a

throne of Majestie sits soveraigne, goodly, triumphant, lovely,

equally delicious, and couragious, protesting her selfe to be a

professed and irreconcileable enemie to all sharpnesse, austeritie,

feare, and compulsion; having nature for her guide, fortune and

voluptuousnesse for her companions; they according to their

weaknesse have imaginarily fained her, to have a foolish, sad, grim,

quarelous, spitefull, threatning, and disdainfull visage, with an

horride and unpleasant looke; and have placed her upon a craggie,

sharpe, and unfrequented rocke, amidst desert cliffes and uncouth

crags, as a scar-crow, or bugbeare, to affright the common people

with. Now the tutour, which ought to know that he should rather seek

to fill the mind and store the will of his disciple, as much, or

rather more, with love and affection, than with awe, and reverence

unto vertue, may shew and tell him, that Poets follow common

humours, making him plainly to perceive, and as it were palpably to

feele, that the Gods have rather placed labour and sweat at the

entrances which lead to Venus chambers, than at the doores that

direct to Pallas cabinets.

And when he shall perceive his scholler to have a sensible feeling

of himselfe, presenting Bradamant [Footnote: A warlike heroine in

Boiardo's "Orlando Innamorato" and Ariosto's "Orlando Furioso."] or

Angelica [Footnote: The faithless princess, on account of whom

Orlando goes mad, in the same poems.] before him, as a Mistresse to

enjoy, embelished with a naturall, active, generous, and unspotted

beautie not uglie or Giant-like, but blithe and livelie, in respect

of a wanton, soft, affected, and artificiall-flaring beautie; the

one attired like unto a young man, coyfed with a bright-shining

helmet, the other disguised and drest about the head like unto an

impudent harlot, with embroyderies, frizelings, and carcanets of

pearles: he will no doubt deeme his owne love to be a man and no

woman, if in his choice he differ from that effeminate shepheard of

Phrygia. In this new kind of lesson he shall declare unto him, that

the prize, the glorie, and height of true vertue, consisted in the

facilitie, profit, and pleasure of his exercises: so far from

difficultie and incumbrances, that children as well as men, the

simple as soone as the wise, may come unto her. Discretion and

temperance, not force or way-wardnesse are the instruments to bring

him unto her. Socrates (vertues chiefe favorite) that he might the

better walke in the pleasant, naturall, and open path of her

progresses, doth voluntarily and in good, earnest, quit all

compulsion. Shee is the nurse and foster-mother of all humane

[Footnote: Human.] pleasures, who in making them just and upright,

she also makes them sure and sincere. By moderating them, she

keepeth them in ure [Footnote: Practice.] and breath. In limiting

and cutting them off, whom she refuseth; she whets us on toward

those she leaveth unto us; and plenteously leaves us them, which

Nature pleaseth, and like a kind mother giveth us over unto

satietie, if not unto wearisomnesse, unlesse we will peradventure

say that the rule and bridle, which stayeth the drunkard before

drunkennesse, the glutton before surfetting, and the letcher before

the losing of his haire, be the enemies of our pleasures. If common

fortune faile her, it cleerely scapes her; or she cares not for her,

or she frames another unto herselfe, altogether her owne, not so

fleeting nor so rowling. She knoweth the way how to be rich, mightie

and wise, and how to lie in sweet-perfumed beds. She loveth life;

she delights in beautie, in glorie, and in health. But her proper

and particular office is, first to know how to use such goods

temperately, and how to lose them constantly. An office much more

noble than severe, without which all course of life is unnaturall,

turbulent, and deformed, to which one may lawfully joyne those

rocks, those incumbrances, and those hideous monsters. If so it

happen, that his Disciple prove of so different a condition, that he

rather love to give eare to an idle fable than to the report of some

noble voiage, or other notable and wise discourse, when he shall

heare it; that at the sound of a Drum or clang of a Trumpet, which

are wont to rowse and arme the youthly heat of his companions,

turneth to another that calleth him to see a play, tumbling, jugling

tricks, or other idle lose-time sports; and who for pleasures sake

doth not deeme it more delightsome to returne all sweatie and wearie

from a victorious combat, from wrestling, or riding of a horse, than

from a Tennis-court or dancing schoole, with the prize or honour of

such exercises; The best remedy I know for such a one is, to put him

prentice to some base occupation, in some good towne or other, yea,

were he the sonne of a Duke; according to Platoes rule, who saith

"That children must be placed, not according to their fathers

conditions, but the faculties of their mind." Since it is

Philosophie that teacheth us to live, and that infancie as well as

other ages, may plainly read her lessons in the same, why should it

not be imparted unto young Schollers?

Vdum et molle lutum est, nunc nunc properandus, et acri

Fingendus sine fine rota.

[Footnote: PES. Sat. iii. 23.]

He's moist and soft mould, and must by and by

Be cast, made up, while wheele whirls readily.

We are taught to live when our life is well-nigh spent. Many

schollers have been infected with that loathsome and marrow-wasting

disease before ever they came to read Aristotles treatise of

Temperance. Cicero was wont to say, "That could he out-live the

lives of two men, he should never find leasure to study the Lyrike

Poets." And I find these Sophisters both worse and more

unprofitable. Our childe is engaged in greater matters; And but the

first fifteene or sixteene yeares of his life are due unto

Pedantisme, the rest unto action: let us therefore imploy so short

time as we have to live in more necessarie instructions. It is an

abuse; remove these thornie quiddities of Logike, whereby our life

can no whit be amended, and betake our selves to the simple

discourses of Philosophy; know how to chuse and fitly to make use of

them: they are much more easie to be conceived than one of Bocace

his tales. A childe comming from nurse is more capable of them, than

he is to learne to read or write. Philosophy hath discourses,

whereof infancie as well as decaying old-age may make good use. I am

of Plutarkes mind, which is, that Aristotle did not so much ammuse

his great Disciple about the arts how to frame Syllogismes, or the

principles of Geometric, as he endevoured to instruct him with good

precepts concerning valour, prowesse, magnanimitie, and temperance,

and an undanted assurance not to feare any thing; and with such

munition he sent him, being yet verie young, to subdue the Empire of

the world, only with 30000 footmen, 4000 horsemen, and 42000 Crownes

in monie. As for other arts and sciences; he saith Alexander

honoured them, and commended their excellencie and comlinesse; but

for any pleasure he tooke in them, his affection could not easily be

drawne to exercise them.

--petite hinc juvenesque senesque

Finem animo certum, miserisque viatica canis.

[Footnote: Sat. v. 64]

Young men and old, draw hence (in your affaires)

Your minds set marke, provision for gray haires.

It is that which Epicurus said in the beginning of his letter to

Memiceus: "Neither let the youngest shun nor the oldest wearie

himselfe in philosophying, for who doth otherwise seemeth to say,

that either the season to live happily is not yet come, or is

already past." Yet would I not have this young gentleman pent-up,

nor carelesly cast-off to the heedlesse choler, or melancholy humour

of the hasty Schoole-master. I would not have his budding spirit

corrupted with keeping him fast-tied, and as it were labouring

fourteene or fifteene houres a day poaring on his booke, as some

doe, as if he were a day-labouring man; neither doe I thinke it fit,

if at any time, by reason of some solitairie or melancholy

complexion, he should be scene with an over-indiscreet application

given to his booke, it should be cherished in him; for, that doth

often make him both unapt for civill conversation and distracts him

from better imployments: How many have I scene in my daies, by an

over-greedy desire of knowledge, become as it were foolish?

Carneades was so deeply plunged, and as I may say besotted in it,

that he could never have leasure to cut his haire, or pare his

nailes: nor would I have his noble manners obscured by the

incivilitie and barbarisme of others. The French wisdome hath long

since proverbially been spoken of as verie apt to conceive study in

her youth, but most unapt to keepe it long. In good truth, we see at

this day that there is nothing lovelier to behold than the young

children of France; but for the most part, they deceive the hope

which was fore-apprehended of them: for when they once become men,

there is no excellencie at all in them. I have heard men of

understanding hold this opinion, that the Colleges to which they are

sent (of which there are store) doe thus besot them: whereas to our

scholler, a cabinet, a gardin, the table, the bed, a solitarinesse,

a companie, morning and evening, and all houres shall be alike unto

him, all places shall be a study for him: for Philosophy (as a

former of judgements, and modeler of customes) shall be his

principall lesson, having the privilege to entermeddle her selfe

with all things, and in all places. Isocrates the Orator, being once

requested at a great banket to speake of his art, when all thought

he had reason to answer, said, "It is not now time to doe what I

can, and what should now be done, I cannot doe it; For, to present

orations, or to enter into disputation of Rhetorike, before a

companie assembled together to be merrie, and make good cheere,

would be but a medley of harsh and jarring musicke." The like may be

said of all other Sciences. But touching Philosophy, namely, in that

point where it treateth of man, and of his duties and offices, it

hath been the common judgement of the wisest, that in regard of the

pleasantnesse of her conversatione, she ought not to be rejected,

neither at banquets nor at sports. And Plato having invited her to

his solemne feast, we see how kindly she entertaineth the companie

with a milde behaviour, fitly suting her selfe to time and place,

notwithstanding it be one of his learned'st and profitable

discourses.

AEque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus aque,

Et neglecta aeque pueris senibusque nocebit.

[Footnote: HOR. 1. i. Epist. 125.]

Poore men alike, alike rich men it easeth,

Alike it, scorned, old and young displeaseth.

So doubtlesse he shall lesse be idle than others; for even as the

paces we bestow walking in a gallerie, although they be twice as

many more, wearie us not so much as those we spend in going a set

journey: So our lesson being past over, as it were, by chance, or

way of encounter, without strict observance of time or place, being

applied to all our actions, shall be digested, and never felt. All

sports and exercises shall be a part of his study; running,

wrestling, musicke, dancing, hunting, and managing of armes and

horses. I would have the exterior demeanor or decencie, and the

disposition of his person to be fashioned together with his mind:

for, it is not a mind, it is not a body that we erect, but it is a

man, and we must not make two parts of him. And as Plato saith, They

must not be erected one without another, but equally be directed, no

otherwise than a couple of horses matched to draw in one selfe-same

teeme. And to heare him, doth he not seeme to imploy more time and

care in the exercises of his bodie: and to thinke that the minde is

together with the same exercised, and not the contrarie? As for

other matters, this institution ought to be directed by a sweet-

severe mildnesse; Not as some do, who in liew of gently-bidding

children to the banquet of letters, present them with nothing but

horror and crueltie. Let me have this violence and compulsion

removed, there is nothing that, in my seeming, doth more bastardise

and dizzie a welborne and gentle nature: If you would have him stand

in awe of shame and punishment, doe not so much enure him to it:

accustome him patiently to endure sweat and cold, the sharpnesse of

the wind, the heat of the sunne, and how to despise all hazards.

Remove from him all nicenesse and quaintnesse in clothing, in lying,

in eating, and in drinking: fashion him to all things, that he prove

not a faire and wanton-puling boy, but a lustie and vigorous boy:

When I was a child, being a man, and now am old, I have ever judged

and believed the same. But amongst other things, I could never away

with this kind of discipline used in most of our Colleges. It had

peradventure been lesse hurtfull, if they had somewhat inclined to

mildnesse, or gentle entreatie. It is a verie prison of captivated

youth, and proves dissolute in punishing it before it be so. Come

upon them when they are going to their lesson, and you heare nothing

but whipping and brawling, both of children tormented, and masters

besotted with anger and chafing. How wide are they, which go about

to allure a childs mind to go to its booke, being yet but tender and

fearefull, with a stearne-frowning countenance, and with hands full

of rods? Oh wicked and pernicious manner of teaching! which

Quintillian hath very wel noted, that this imperious kind of

authoritie, namely, this way of punishing of children, drawes many

dangerous inconveniences within. How much more decent were it to see

their school-houses and formes strewed with greene boughs and

flowers, than with bloudy burchen-twigs? If it lay in me, I would

doe as the Philosopher Speusippus did, who caused the pictures of

Gladness and Joy, of Flora and of the Graces, to be set up round

about his school-house. Where their profit lieth, there should also

be their recreation. Those meats ought to be sugred over, that are

healthful for childrens stomakes, and those made bitter that are

hurtfull for them. It is strange to see how carefull Plato sheweth

him selfe in framing of his lawes about the recreation and pastime

of the youth of his Citie, and how far he extends him selfe about

their exercises, sports, songs, leaping, and dancing, whereof he

saith, that severe antiquitie gave the conduct and patronage unto

the Gods themselves, namely, to Apollo, to the Muses, and to

Minerva. Marke but how far-forth he endevoreth to give a thousand

precepts to be kept in his places of exercises both of bodie and

mind. As for learned Sciences, he stands not much upon them, and

seemeth in particular to commend Poesie, but for Musickes sake. All

strangenesse and selfe-particularitie in our manners and conditions,

is to be shunned, as an enemie to societie and civill conversation.

Who would not be astonished at Demophons complexion, chiefe steward

of Alexanders household, who was wont to sweat in the shadow, and

quiver for cold in the sunne? I have seene some to startle at the

smell of an apple more than at the shot of a peece; some to be

frighted with a mouse, some readie to cast their gorge [Footnote:

Vomit.] at the sight of a messe of creame, and others to be scared

with seeing a fether bed shaken: as Germanicus, who could not abide

to see a cock, or heare his crowing. There may haply be some hidden

propertie of nature, which in my judgement might easilie be removed,

if it were taken in time. Institution hath gotten this upon me (I

must confesse with much adoe) for, except beere, all things else

that are mans food agree indifferently with my taste. The bodie

being yet souple, ought to be accommodated to all fashions and

customes; and (alwaies provided, his appetites and desires be kept

under) let a yong man boldly be made fit for al Nations and

companies; yea, if need be, for al disorders and surfetings; let him

acquaint him selfe with al fashions; That he may be able to do al

things, and love to do none but those that are commendable. Some

strict Philosophers commend not, but rather blame Calisthenes, for

losing the good favour of his Master Alexander, only because he

would not pledge him as much as he had drunke to him. He shall

laugh, jest, dally, and debauch himselfe with his Prince. And in his

debauching, I would have him out-go al his fellowes in vigor and

constancie, and that he omit not to doe evill, neither for want of

strength or knowledge, but for lacke of will. Multum interest utrum

peccare quis nolit, aut nesciat: [Footnote: HOR. Epist. xvii. 23.]

"There is a great difference, whether one have no will, or no wit to

doe amisse." I thought to have honoured a gentleman (as great a

stranger, and as far from such riotous disorders as any is in

France) by enquiring of him in verie good companie, how many times

in all his life he had bin drunke in Germanie during the time of his

abode there, about the necessarie affaires of our King; who tooke it

even as I meant it, and answered three times, telling the time and

manner how. I know some, who for want of that qualitie, have been

much perplexed when they have had occasion to converse with that

nation. I have often noted with great admiration, that wonderfull

nature of Alcibiades, to see how easilie he could sute himselfe to

so divers fashions and different humors, without prejudice unto his

health; sometimes exceeding the sumptuousnesse and pompe of the

Persians, and now and then surpassing. the austeritie and frugalitie

of the Lacedemonians; as reformed in Sparta, as voluptuous in Ionia.

Omnis Atistippum decuit color, et status, et res.

[Footnote: HOR. Epist. xvii. 25.]

All colours, states, and things are fit

For courtly Aristippus wit.

Such a one would I frame my Disciple,

--quem duplici panno patientia velat,

Mirabor, vita via si conversa decebit.

Whom patience clothes with sutes of double kind,

I muse, if he another way will find.

Personavnque feret non inconcinnus utramque.

[Footnote: CIC. Tusc. Qu. 1. iv.]

He not unfitly may,

Both parts and persons play.

Loe here my lessons, wherein he that acteth them, profiteth more

than he that but knoweth them, whom if you see, you heare, and if

you heare him, you see him. God forbid, saith some bodie in Plato,

that to Philosophize, be to learne many things, and to exercise the

arts. Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bene vivendi disciplinam, vita

magis quant litteris persequntd sunt [Footnote: Ib. 29.] "This

discipline of living well, which is the amplest of all other arts,

they followed rather in their lives than in their learning or

writing." Leo Prince of the Phliasians, enquiring of Heraclides

Ponticus, what art he professed, he answered, "Sir, I professe

neither art nor science; but I am a Philosopher." Some reproved

Diogenes, that being an ignorant man, he did neverthelesse meddle

with Philosophie, to whom he replied, "So much the more reason have

I and to greater purpose doe I meddle with it." Hegesias praid him

upon a time to reade some booke unto him: "You are a merry man,"

said he: "As you chuse naturall and not painted, right and not

counterfeit figges to eat, why doe you not likewise chuse, not the

painted and written, but the true and naturall exercises?" He shall

not so much repeat, as act his lesson. In his actions shall he make

repetition of the same. We must observe, whether there bee wisdome

in his enterprises, integritie in his demeanor, modestie in his

jestures, justice in his actions, judgement and grace in his speech,

courage in his sicknesse, moderation in his sports, temperance in

his pleasures, order in the government of his house, and

indifference in his taste, whether it be flesh, fish, wine, or

water, or whatsoever he feedeth upon. Qui disciplinam suam non

ostentationem scientiae sed legem vitae putet: quique obtemperet

ipse sibi, et decretis pareat [Footnote: Ib. I. ii.] "Who thinks his

learning not an ostentation of knowledge, but a law of life, and

himselfe obayes himselfe, and doth what is decreed."

The true mirror of our discourses is the course of our lives.

Zeuxidamus answered one that demanded of him, why the Lacedemonians

did not draw into a booke, the ordinances of prowesse, that so their

yong men might read them; "it is," saith he, "because they would

rather accustome them to deeds and actions, than to bookes and

writings." Compare at the end of fifteene or sixteene yeares one of

these collegiall Latinizers, who hath imployed all that while onely

in learning how to speake, to such a one as I meane. The world is

nothing but babling and words, and I never saw man that doth not

rather speake more than he ought, than lesse. Notwithstanding halfe

our age is consumed that way. We are kept foure or five yeares

learning to understand bare words, and to joine them into clauses,

then as long in proportioning a great bodie extended into foure or

five parts; and five more at least ere we can succinctly know how to

mingle, joine, and interlace them handsomly into a subtil fashion,

and into one coherent orbe. Let us leave it to those whose

profession is to doe nothing else. Being once on my journey to

Orleans, it was my chance to meet upon that plaine that lieth on

this side Clery, with two Masters of Arts, traveling toward

Bordeaux, about fiftie paces one from another; far off behind them,

I descride a troupe of horsemen, their Master riding formost, who

was the Earle of Rochefocault; one of my servants enquiring of the

first of those Masters of Arts, what Gentleman he was that followed

him; supposing my servant had meant his fellow-scholler, for he had

not yet seen the Earles traine, answered pleasantly, "He is no

gentleman, Sir, but a Gramarian, and I am a Logitian." Now, we that

contrariwise seek not to frame a Gramarian, nor a Logitian, but a

compleat gentleman, let us give them leave to mispend their time; we

have else-where, and somewhat else of more import to doe. So that

our Disciple be well and sufficiently stored with matter; words will

follow apace, and if they will hot follow gently, he shall hale them

on perforce. I heare some excuse themselves, that they cannot

expresse their meaning, and make a semblance that their heads are so

full stuft with many goodly things, but for want of eloquence they

can neither titter nor make show of them. It is a meere fopperie.

And will you know what, in my seeming, the cause is? They are

shadows and Chimeraes, proceeding of some formelesse conceptions,

which they cannot distinguish or resolve within, and by consequence

are not able to produce them in as-much as they understand not

themselves: And if you but marke their earnestnesse, and how they

stammer and labour at the point of their deliverle, you would deeme

that what they go withall, is but a conceiving, and therefore

nothing neere downelying; and that they doe but licke that imperfect

and shapelesse lump of matter. As for me, I am of opinion, and

Socrates would have it so, that he who had a cleare and lively

imagination in his mind, may easilie produce and utter the same,

although it be in Bergamaske [Footnote: A rustic dialect of the

north of Italy.] or Welsh, and if he be dumbe, by signes and tokens.

Verbaque praevisam rem non invita sequentur.

[Footnote: HOR. Art. Poet. 311.]

When matter we fore-know,

Words voluntarie flow.

As one said, as poetically in his prose, Cum res animum occupavere,

verba ambiunt; [Footnote: SED. Controv. 1. vii. prae.] "When matter

hath possest their minds, they hunt after words:" and another: Ipsa

res verba rapiunt: [Footnote: CIC. de Fin. I. iii. c. 5.] "Things

themselves will catch and carry words:" He knowes neither Ablative,

Conjunctive, Substantive, nor Gramar, no more doth his Lackey, nor

any Oyster-wife about the streets, and yet if you have a mind to it

he will intertaine you, your fill, and peradventure stumble as

little and as seldome against the rules of his tongue, as the best

Master of arts in France. He hath no skill in Rhetoricke, nor can he

with a preface fore-stall and captivate the Gentle Readers good

will: nor careth he greatly to know it. In good sooth, all this

garish painting is easilie defaced, by the lustre of an in-bred and

simple truth; for these dainties and quaint devices serve but to

ammuse the vulgar sort; unapt and incapable to taste the most solid

and firme meat: as Afer verie plainly declareth in Cornelius

Tacitus. The Ambassadours of Samos being come to Cleomenes King of

Sparta, prepared with a long prolix Oration, to stir him up to war

against the tyrant Policrates, after he had listned a good while

unto them, his answer was: "Touching your Exordium or beginning I

have forgotten it; the middle I remember not; and for your

conclusion I will do nothing in it." A fit, and (to my thinking) a

verie good answer; and the Orators were put to such a shift; as they

knew not what to replie. And what said another? the Athenians from

out two of their cunning Architects, were to chuse one to erect a

notable great frame; the one of them more affected and selfe

presuming, presented himselfe before them, with a smooth fore-

premeditated discourse, about the subject of that piece of worke,

and thereby drew the judgements of the common people unto his

liking; but the other in few words spake thus: "Lords of Athens,

what this man hath said I will performe." In the greatest

earnestnesse of Ciceroes eloquence many were drawn into a kind of

admiration; But Cato jesting at it, said, "Have we not a pleasant

Consull?" A quicke cunning Argument, and a wittie saying, whether it

go before or come after, it is never out of season. If it have no

coherence with that which goeth before, nor with what commeth after;

it is good and commendable in it selfe. I am none of those that

think a good Ryme, to make a good Poeme; let him hardly (if so he

please) make a short syllable long, it is no great matter; if the

invention be rare and good, and his wit and judgement have cunningly

played their part. I will say to such a one; he is a good Poet, but

an ill Versifier.

Emunciae naris, durus componere versus.

[Footnote: HOR. 1. i. Sat. iv.]

A man whose sense could finely pierce,

But harsh and hard to make a verse.

Let a man (saith Horace) make his worke loose all seames, measures,

and joynts.

Tempora certa moddsque, et quod prius ordine verbum est,

[Footnote: Ib. 58.]

Posterius facias, praeponens ultima primis:

Invenias etiam disjecti membra Poetae.

[Footnote: Ib. 62.]

Set times and moods, make you the first word last,

The last word first, as if they were new cast:

Yet find th' unjoynted Poets joints stand fast.

He shall for all that, nothing gain-say himselfe, every piece will

make a good shew. To this purpose answered Menander those that chid

him, the day being at hand, in which he had promised a Comedy, and

had not begun the same, "Tut-tut," said he, "it is alreadie

finished, there wanteth nothing but to adde the verse unto it;" for,

having ranged and cast the plot in his mind, he made small accompt

of feet, of measures, or cadences of verses, which indeed are but of

small import in regard of the rest. Since great Ronsarde and learned

Bellay have raised our French Poesie unto that height of honour

where it now is: I see not one of these petty ballad-makers, or

prentise dogrell rymers, that doth not bombast his labours with

high-swelling and heaven-disimbowelling words, and that doth not

marshall his cadences verie neere as they doe. Plus sonat quam

valet. [Footnote: Sen, Epist. xl.] "The sound is more than the

weight or worth." And for the vulgar sort there were never so many

Poets, and so few good: but as it hath been easie for them to

represent their rymes, so come they far short in imitating the rich

descriptions of the one, and rare inventions of the other. But what

shall he doe, if he be urged with sophisticall subtilties about a

Sillogisme? A gammon of Bacon makes a man drink, drinking quencheth

a mans thirst; Ergo, a gammon of bacon quencheth a mans thirst. Let

him mock at it, it is more wittie to be mockt at than to be

answered. Let him borrow this pleasant counter-craft of Aristippus;

"Why shall I unbind that, which being bound doth so much trouble

me?" Some one proposed certaine Logicall quiddities against

Cleanthes, to whom Chrisippus said; use such jugling tricks to play

with children, and divert not the serious thoughts of an aged man to

such idle matters. If such foolish wiles, Contorta et aculeata

sophismata, [Footnote: Cic. Acad. Qu. 1. iv.] "Intricate and stinged

sophismes," must perswade a lie, it is dangerous: but if they proove

void of any effect, and move him but to laughter, I see not why he

shall beware of them. Some there are so foolish that will go a

quarter of a mile out of the way to hunt after a quaint new word, if

they once get in chace; Aut qui non verba rebus aptant, sed res

extrinsecus arcessunt, quibus verba conveniant: "Or such as fit not

words to matter, but fetch matter from abroad, whereto words be

fitted." And another, Qui alicujus verbi decore placentis, vocentur

ad id quod non proposuerant scribere: [Footnote: Sen. Epist. liii.]

"Who are allured by the grace of some pleasing word, to write what

they intended not to write." I doe more willingly winde up a wittie

notable sentence, that so I may sew it upon me, than unwinde my

thread to go fetch it. Contrariwise, it is for words to serve and

wait upon the matter, and not for matter to attend upon words, and

if the French tongue cannot reach unto it, let the Gaskonie, or any

other. I would have the matters to surmount, and so fill the

imagination of him that harkeneth, that he have no remembrance at

all of the words. It is a naturall, simple, and unaffected speech

that I love, so written as it is spoken, and such upon the paper, as

it is in the mouth, a pithie, sinnowie, full, strong, compendious

and materiall speech, not so delicate and affected as vehement and

piercing.

Hac demum sapiet dictio qua feriet.

[Footnote: Epitaph on Lucan, 6.]

In fine, that word is wisely fit,

Which strikes the fence, the marke doth hit.

Rather difficult than tedious, void of affection, free, loose and

bold, that every member of it seeme to make a bodie; not

Pedanticall, nor Frier-like, nor Lawyer-like, but rather downe

right, Souldier-like. As Suetonius calleth that of Julius Caesar,

which I see no reason wherefore he calleth it. I have sometimes

pleased myselfe in imitating that licenciousnesse or wanton humour

of our youths, in wearing of their garments; as carelessly to let

their cloaks hang downe over one shoulder; to weare their cloakes

scarfe or bawdrikewise, and their stockings loose hanging about

their legs. It represents a kind of disdainful fiercenesse of these

forraine embellishings, and neglect carelesnesse of art: But I

commend it more being imployed in the course and forme of speech.

All manner of affectation, namely [Footnote: Especially,] in the

livelinesse and libertie of France, is unseemely in a Courtier. And

in a Monarchie every Gentleman ought to addresse himselfe unto

[Footnote: Aim at] a Courtiers carriage. Therefore do we well

somewhat to incline to a native and carelesse behaviour. I like not

a contexture, where the seames and pieces may be seen: As in a well

compact bodie, what need a man distinguish and number all the bones

and veines severally? Quae veritati operam dat oratio, incomposita

sit et simplex [Footnote: Sen. Epist. xl] Quis accurate loquitur

nisi qui vult putide loqui [Footnote: Ib. Epist. ixxr.] "The speach

that intendeth truth must be plaine and unpollisht: Who speaketh

elaborately, but he that meanes to speake unfavourably?" That

eloquence offereth injurie unto things, which altogether drawes us

to observe it. As in apparell, it is a signe of pusillanimitie for

one to marke himselfe, in some particular and unusuall fashion: so

likewise in common speech, for one to hunt after new phrases, and

unaccustomed quaint words, proceedeth of a scholasticall and

childish ambition. Let me use none other than are spoken in the hals

of Paris. Aristophanes the Gramarian was somewhat out of the way,

when he reproved Epicurus, for the simplicitie of his words, and the

end of his art oratorie, which was onely perspicuitie in speech. The

imitation of speech, by reason of the facilitie of it, followeth

presently a whole nation. The imitation of judging and inventing

comes more slow. The greater number of Readers, because they have

found one self-same kind of gowne, suppose most falsely to holde one

like bodie. Outward garments and cloakes may be borrowed, but never

the sinews and strength of the bodie. Most of those that converse

with me, speake like unto these Essayes; but I know not whether they

think alike. The Athenians (as Plato averreth) have for their part

great care to be fluent and eloquent in their speech; The

Lacedemonians endevour to be short and compendious; and those of

Creet labour more to bee plentifull in conceits than in language.

And these are the best. Zeno was wont to say, "That he had two sorts

of disciples; the one he called [Greek word omitted], curious to

learne things, and those were his darlings, the other he termed

[Greek word omitted], who respected nothing more than the language."

Yet can no man say, but that to speake well, is most gracious and

commendable, but not so excellent as some make it: and I am grieved

to see how we imploy most part of our time about that onely. I would

first know mine owne tongue perfectly, then my neighbours with whom

I have most commerce. I must needs acknowledge, that the Greeke and

Latine tongues are great ornaments in a gentleman, but they are

purchased at over-high a rate. Use it who list, I will tell you how

they may be gotten better, cheaper, and much sooner than is

ordinarily used, which was tried in myselfe. My late father, having,

by all the meanes and industrie that is possible for a man, sought

amongst the wisest, and men of best understanding, to find a most

exquisite and readie way of teaching, being advised of the

inconveniences then in use; was given to understand that the

lingring while, and best part of our youth, that we imploy in

learning the tongues, which cost them nothing, is the onely cause we

can never attaine to that absolute perfection of skill and knowledge

of the Greekes and Romanes. I doe not beleeve that to be the onely

cause. But so it is, the expedient my father found out was this;

that being yet at nurse, and before the first loosing of my tongue,

I was delivered to a Germane (who died since, a most excellent

Physitian in France) he being then altogether ignorant of the French

tongue, but exquisitely readie and skilfull in the Latine. This man,

whom my father had sent for of purpose, and to whom he gave verie

great entertainment, had me continually in his armes, and was mine

onely overseer. There were also joyned unto him two of his

countrimen, but not so learned; whose charge was to attend, and now

and then to play with me; and all these together did never

entertaine me with other than the Latine tongue. As for others of

his household, it was an inviolable rule, that neither himselfe, nor

my mother, nor man, nor maid-servant, were suffered to speake one

word in my companie, except such Latine words as every one had

learned to chat and prattle with me. It were strange to tell how

every one in the house profited therein. My Father and my Mother

learned so much Latine, that for a need they could understand it,

when they heard it spoken, even so did all the household servants,

namely such as were neerest and most about me. To be short, we were

all so Latinized, that the townes round about us had their share of

it; insomuch as even at this day, many Latine names both of workmen

and of their tooles are yet in use amongst them. And as for myselfe,

I was about six years old, and could understand no more French or

Perigordine than Arabike; and that without art, without bookes,

rules, or grammer, without whipping or whining, I had gotten as pure

a Latin tongue as my Master could speake; the rather because I could

neither mingle or confound the same with other tongues. If for an

Essay they would give me a Theme, whereas the fashion in Colleges

is, to give it in French, I had it in bad Latine, to reduce the same

into good. And Nicholas Grouchy, who hath written De comitiis

Romanorum, William Guerente, who hath commented Aristotele: George

Buchanan, that famous Scottish Poet, and Marke Antonie Muret, whom

(while he lived) both France and Italie to this day, acknowledge to

have been the best orator: all which have beene my familiar tutors,

have often told me, that in mine infancie I had the Latine tongue so

readie and so perfect, that themselves feared to take me in hand.

And Buchanan, who afterward I saw attending on the Marshall of

Brissacke, told me, he was about to write a treatise of the

institution of children, and that he tooke the model and patterne

from mine: for at that time he had the charge and bringing up of the

young Earle of Brissack, whom since we have scene prove so worthy

and so valiant a Captaine. As for the Greeke, wherein I have but

small understanding, my father purposed to make me learne it by art;

But by new and uncustomed meanes, that is, by way of recreation and

exercise. We did tosse our declinations and conjugations to and fro,

as they doe, who by way of a certaine game at tables learne both

Arithmetike and Geometrie. For, amongst other things he had

especially beene persuaded to make me taste and apprehend the fruits

of dutie and science by an unforced kinde of will, and of mine owne

choice; and without any compulsion or rigor to bring me up in all

mildnesse and libertie: yea with such kinde of superstition, that,

whereas some are of opinion that suddenly to awaken young children,

and as it were by violence to startle and fright them out of their

dead sleepe in a morning (wherein they are more heavie and deeper

plunged than we) doth greatly trouble and distemper their braines,

he would every morning cause me to be awakened by the sound of some

instrument; and I was never without a servant who to that purpose

attended upon me. This example may serve to judge of the rest; as

also to commend the judgement and tender affection of so carefull

and loving a father: who is not to be blamed, though hee reaped not

the fruits answerable to his exquisite toyle and painefull manuring.

[Footnote: Cultivation.] Two things hindered the same; first the

barrennesse and unfit soyle: for howbeit I were of a sound and

strong constitution, and of a tractable and yeelding condition, yet

was I so heavie, so sluggish, and so dull, that I could not be

rouzed (yea were it to goe to play) from out mine idle drowzinesse.

What I saw, I saw it perfectly; and under this heavy, and as it were

Lethe-complexion did I breed hardie imaginations, and opinions farre

above my yeares. My spirit was very slow, and would goe no further

than it was led by others; my apprehension blockish, my invention

poore; and besides, I had a marvelous defect in my weake memorie: it

is therefore no wonder, if my father could never bring me to any

perfection. Secondly, as those that in some dangerous sicknesse,

moved with a kind of hope-full and greedie desire of perfect health

againe, give eare to every Leach or Emperike, [Footnote: Doctor or

quack.] and follow all counsels, the good man being exceedingly

fearefull to commit any oversight, in a matter he tooke so to heart,

suffered himselfe at last to be led away by the common opinion,

which like unto the Cranes, followeth ever those that go before, and

yeelded to customer having those no longer about him, that had given

him his first directions, and which they had brought out of Italie.

Being but six yeares old I was sent to the College of Guienne, then

most flourishing and reputed the best in France, where it is

impossible to adde any thing to the great care he had, both to chuse

the best and most sufficient masters that could be found, to reade

unto me, as also for all other circumstances partaining to my

education; wherein contrary to usuall customes of Colleges, he

observed many particular rules. But so it is, it was ever a College.

My Latin tongue was forthwith corrupted, whereof by reason of

discontinuance, I afterward lost all manner of use: which new kind

of institution stood me in no other stead, but that at my first

admittance it made me to overskip some of the lower formes, and to

be placed in the highest. For at thirteene yeares of age, that I

left the College, I had read over the whole course of Philosophie

(as they call it) but with so small profit, that I can now make no

account of it. The first taste or feeling I had of bookes, was of

the pleasure I tooke in reading the fables of Ovids Metamorphosies;

for, being but seven or eight yeares old, I would steale and

sequester my selfe from all other delights, only to reade them:

Forsomuch as the tongue wherein they were written was to me

naturall; and it was the easiest booke I knew, and by reason of the

matter therein contained most agreeing with my young age. For of

King Arthur, of Lancelot du Lake, of Amadis, of Huon of Burdeaux,

and such idle time consuming and wit-besotting trash of bookes

wherein youth doth commonly ammuse it selfe, I was not so much as

acquainted with their names, and to this day know not their bodies,

nor what they containe: So exact was my discipline. Whereby I became

more carelesse to studie my other prescript lessons. And well did it

fall out for my purpose, that I had to deale with a very discreet

Master, who out of his judgement could with such dexterite winke at

and second my untowardlinesse, and such other faults that were in

me. For by that meanes I read over Virgils AEneados, Terence,

Plautus, and other Italian Comedies, allured thereunto by the

pleasantnesse of their severall subjects: Had he beene so foolishly-

severe, or so severely froward as to crosse this course of mine, I

thinke verily I had never brought any thing from the College, but

the hate and contempt of Bookes, as doth the greatest part of our

Nobilitie. Such was his discretion, and so warily did he behave

himselfe, that he saw and would not see: hee would foster and

increase my longing: suffering me but by stealth and by snatches to

glut my selfe with those Bookes, holding ever a gentle hand over me,

concerning other regular studies. For, the chiefest thing my father

required at their hands (unto whose charge he had committed me) was

a kinde of well conditioned mildnesse and facilitie of complexion.

[Footnote: Easiness of disposition.] And, to say truth, mine had no

other fault, but a certaine dull languishing and heavie

slothfullnesse. The danger was not, I should doe ill, but that I

should doe nothing.

No man did ever suspect I would prove a bad, but an unprofitable

man: foreseeing in me rather a kind of idlenesse than a voluntary

craftinesse. I am not so selfe-conceited but I perceive what hath

followed. The complaints that are daily buzzed in mine eares are

these; that I am idle, cold, and negligent in offices of friendship,

and dutie to my parents and kinsfolkes; and touching publike

offices, that I am over singular and disdainfull. And those that are

most injurious cannot aske, wherefore I have taken, and why I have

not paied? but may rather demand, why I doe not quit, and wherefore

I doe not give? I would take it as a favour, they should wish such

effects of supererogation in me. But they are unjust and over

partiall, that will goe about to exact that from me which I owe not,

with more vigour than they will exact from themselves that which

they owe; wherein if they condemne me, they utterly cancell both the

gratifying of the action, and the gratitude, which thereby would be

due to me. Whereas the active well doing should be of more

consequence, proceeding from my hand, in regard I have no passive at

all. Wherefore I may so much the more freely dispose of my fortune,

by how much more it is mine, and of my selfe that am most mine owne.

Notwithstanding, if I were a great blazoner of mine owne actions, I

might peradventure barre such reproches, and justly upraid some,

that they are not so much offended, because I doe not enough, as for

that I may, and it lies in my power to doe much more than I doe. Yet

my minde ceased not at the same time to have peculiar unto it selfe

well setled motions, true and open judgements concerning the objects

which it knew; which alone, and without any helpe or communication

it would digest. And amongst other things, I verily beleeve it would

have proved altogether incapable and unfit to yeeld unto force, or

stoope unto violence. Shall I account or relate this qualitie of my

infancie, which was, a kinde of boldnesse in my lookes, and gentle

softnesse in my voice, and affabilitie in my gestures, and a

dexterite in conforming my selfe to the parts I undertooke? for

before the age of the

Alter ab undecimo turn me vix ceperat annus.

[Footnote: Virg. Buc. Ecl. viii. 39.]

Yeares had I (to make even)

Scarce two above eleven.

I have under-gone and represented the chiefest part in the Latin

Tragedies of Buchanan, Guerente, and of Muret; which in great state

were acted and plaid in our College of Guienne: wherein Andreas

Goveanus our Rector principall; who as in all other parts belonging

to his charge, was without comparison the chiefest Rector of France,

and my selfe (without ostentation be it spoken) was reputed, if not

a chiefe-master, yet a principall Actor in them. It is an exercise I

rather commend than disalow in young Gentlemen: and have seene some

of our Princes (in imitation of some of former ages) both

commendably and honestly, in their proper persons act and play some

parts in Tragedies. It hath heretofore been esteemed a lawfull

exercise, and a tolerable profession in men of honor, namely in

Greece. Aristoni tragico actori rem aperit: huic et genus et fortuna

honesta erant: nec ars, quia nihil tale apud Graecos pudori est, ea

deformabat. [Footnote: Liv. Deo. iii. 1. iv.] "He imparts the matter

to Ariston a Player of tragedies, whose progenie and fortune were

both honest; nor did his profession disgrace them, because no such

matter is a disparagement amongst the Grecians."

And I have ever accused them of impertinencie, that condemne and

disalow such kindes of recreations, and blame those of injustice,

that refuse good and honest Comedians, or (as we call them) Players,

to enter our good townes, and grudge the common people such publike

sports. Politike and wel ordered commonwealths endevour rather

carefully to unite and assemble their Citizens together; as in

serious offices of devotion, so in honest exercises of recreation.

Common societie and loving friendship is thereby cherished and

increased. And besides, they cannot have more formal and regular

pastimes allowed them, than such as are acted and represented in

open view of all, and in the presence of the magistrates themselves;

And if I might beare sway, I would thinke it reasonable, that

Princes should sometimes, at their proper charges, gratifie the

common people with them, as an argument of a fatherly affection, and

loving goodnesse towards them: and that in populous and frequented

cities, there should be Theatres and places appointed for such

spectacles; as a diverting of worse inconveniences, and secret

actions. But to come to my intended purpose there is no better way

to allure the affection, and to entice the appetite: otherwise a man

shall breed but asses laden with Bookes. With jerks of rods they

have their satchels full of learning given them to keepe. Which to

doe well, one must not only harbor in himselfe, but wed and marry

the same with his minde.