202 GLORY AND REPOSE CANNOT INHABIT THE SAME PLACE. most acceptable to me, I instruct and whet my appetite to those that remain, and are more suitable to this other season. We ought to hold with all our force, both of hands and teeth, the use of the pleasures of life, that our years, one after another, snatch away from us. Carpamus dulcia, nostrum est, Quod vivis, cinis, et manes, et fabula fies.-Persius, Sat. 5. Let us enjoy life's sweets, for shortly we, Ashes, pale ghost's, and fables, all shall be. Now as to the end, that Pliny and Cicero propose to us, of glory; 'tis infinitely wide of my account; for ambition, is of all other, the most contrary humour to solitude; and glory and repose are so inconsistent, that they cannot possibly inhabit in one and the same place; and for so much as I understand, those have only their arms and legs disengag'd from the crowd, their mind and intention remain engag'd behind more than ever. Tun', vetule, auriculis alienis colligis escas?-Perseus, Sat. 1. Dost thou, old dotard, at these years, They are only retir'd to take a better leap, and by a stronger motion, to give a brisker charge into the crowd. Will you see how they shoot short? Let us put into the counterpoise the advice of two philosophers, of two very different sects, writing, the one to Idomeneus, the other to Lucilius, their friends, to retire into solitude from worldly honours, and the administration of publick affairs. You have, say they, hitherto liv'd swimming and floating, come now, and die in the harbour: you have given the first part of your life to the light, give what remains to the shade. It is impossible to give over business, if you do not also quit the fruit, and therefore disengage your selves from all the concerns of name and glory. 'Tis to be fear'd, the lustre of your former actions will give you but too much light, and follow you into your most private, and most obscure retreat: quit with other pleasures, that which proceeds from the approbation of another: and as to your knowledge and parts, never concern your selves, they will not lose their effect, if your selves be ever the better for them. Remember him, who being ask'd, why he took so much pains in an art, that could come to the knowledge of but few persons? "A few are enough for me," reply'd he, "I have enough of one, I have enough of never a one." He said true, you, and a companion, are theatre enough to one another, or you to your self. Let us be to you the whole people, and the whole people to you but one: 'tis an unworthy ambition, to think to derive glory from a man's sloath and privacy: you are to do like the beasts of chace, who put out the track at the entrance into their den. You are no more to con. cern your self, how the world talks of you, but how you are to talk to yourself: retire your self into your self, but first prepare your self there to receive your self: it were a folly to trust your self in your own hands, if you cannot govern your self, a man may as well miscarry alone, as in company, till you have render'd your self as such, as before whom you dare not trip, and till you have a bashfulness and respect for your self, Observantur species honestæ animo."-Cicero Tusc. Quæst. 1, 2. "Let just and honest things be still represented to the mind."+ Present continually to your imagination, Cato, Phocion and Aristides, in whose presence, the fools themselves will hide their faults; and make them controulers of all your intentions. Should they deviate from vertue, your respect to them will again set you right; they will keep you in the way of being contented with your self, to borrow nothing of any other but your self; to restrain and fix your soul in certain and limited thoughts, wherein she may please her self, and having understood the true and real goods, which men the more enjoy, the more they understand, to rest satisfied, without desire of prolongation of life or memory. This is the precept of the true and natural philosophy, not of a boasting and prating philosophy, such as that of the two former. CHAP. XXXIX.-A CONSIDERATION UPON CICERO. ONE word more by way of comparison, betwixt these two. There are to be gather'd out of the writings of Cicero, and this younger Pliny, (but little in my opinion, resembling his uncle in his humour,) infinite testimonies of a beyond measure, ambitious nature; and amongst others, this for one, that they both, in the sight of all the world, solicit the historians of their time, not to forget them in their memoirs; and fortune, as if in spite, has made the vacancy of those requests live upor record down to this age of ours, when she has long since damn'd the histories themselves to oblivion. But this exceeds all meanness of spirit in persons of such quality, as they were, to think to derive any great and living renown from babling and prating; even to the publishing of their private letters to their friends, and so withal, that though some of them were never sent, the opportunity being lost, they nevertheless expose them to the light, with this worthy excuse, that they were hereafter unwilling to lose their labours, and have their lucubrations thrown away. Was it not very well becoming two consuls of Rome, soveraign magistrates of the republick that commanded the world, to spend their time in contriving quaint and elegant missives, thence to gain the reputation of being criticks, in their own mother tongues: what could a pitiful school-master have done worse, whose trade it was to get his living? If the acts of Xenophon, and Cæsar, 204 TIME TO BE APPLIED IN ACQUIRING THE MOST USEFUL THINGS. had not far enough transcended their eloquence, I scarce believe they would ever have taken the pains to have writ them. They made it their business to recommend not their speaking, but their doing. And could the perfection of eloquence have added any lustre proportionable to the merit of a great person, certainly Scipio, and Lælius, had never resigned the honour of their comedies, with all the luxuriances, and delicacies of the Latine tongue, to an African slave; for that, that work was theirs, the beauty and excellency of it do sufficiently declare; besides, Terence himself confesses as much, and I should take it ill from any one, that would dispossess me of that belief. 'Tis a kind of injurious mockery, and offence, to extol a man for qualities, misbecoming his merit, and condition, though otherwise commendable in themselves, but such as ought not however to be his chiefest talent: as if a man should commend a king, for being a good painter, a good architect, a good marks-man, or a good runner at the ring; commendations that add no honour, unless mentioned altogether, and in the train of those that are more properly applicable to him, namely, his justice, and the science of governing, and conducting his people both in peace, and war. At this rate agriculture was an honour to Cyrus, and eloquence, and the knowledge of good letters to Charlemaigne. I have in my time known some, who by that knack of writing, have got both their titles, and fortune, disown their apprenticeage, purposely corrupt their stile, and affect ignorance in so vulgar a quality, (which also our nation observes, to be rarely seen in very intelligent hands) to seek a reputation by better qualities. Demosthenes his companions in the embassy to Philip, extolling that prince for handsome, eloquent, and a stout drinker, Demosthenes reply'd, that those were commendations more proper for a woman, an advocate, or a spunge, than a king. Imperet bellante prior jacentem Lenis in hostem.-Hor. Carm. 'Tis not his profession to know either how to hunt, or to dance we.`. Orabunt causas alii, cœlique meatus Describent radio, et fulgentia sydera dicent, Hic regere imperio populos sciat.—Virg. Æn. l. 6. Let others plead at the litigious bar, Describe the sphears, point out each twinkling star, Plutarch says moreover, that to appear so excellent in these less necessary qualities, is to produce witness against a mans self, that he has spent his time, and apply'd his study ill, which ought to have been employ'd in the acquisition of more necessary, and more useful things, so that Philip king of Macedon, having heard that great Alexander his son, sing once at a feast to the wonder, and envy of the best musicians there: "art not thou asham'd" said he to him, "to sing so well ?" And to the same Philip a musician, with whom he was disputing about some things concerning his art: Heav'n forbid! Sir," said he, "that so great a misfortune should ever befal you, as to understand these things better than I." A king should be able to answer as Iphicrates did the orator, who prest upon him in his invective after this manner: "and what art thou, that thou brav'st it at this rate? art thou a man at arms, art thou an archer, art thou a pike?" "I am none of all this; but I know how to command all these." And Antisthenes took it for an argument of little valour, in Ismenas, that he was commended for playing excellently well upon a flute. I know very well, that when I hear any one insist upon the language of essays, I had rather a great deal he would say nothing. 'Tis not so much to elevate the stile as to depress the sence, and so much the more offensively, as they do it disgracefully, and out of the way. I am much deceived if many other essayists, deliver more worth nothing as to the matter, and how well, or ill soever, if any other writer has strewed them either much more material, or thicker upon his paper than myself. To bring the more in, I only muster up the heads, should I annex the sequel, I should strangely multiply this volume and how many stories have I scattered up and down, in this book, that I only touch upon, which should any one more curiously search into, they would find matter enough to produce infinite essays: neither those stories, nor my allegations do always serve simply for example, authority, or ornament, I do not only regard them for the use I make of them: they carry sometimes besides what I apply them to, the seed of a more rich, and a bolder matter, and sometimes collaterally a more delicate sound both to me my self, who will express no more in this place, and to others who shall happen to be of my ear. But returning to the speaking vertue; I find no great choice betwixt, not knowing to speak any thing but very ill, and not knowing to speak any thing but very well. "Non est ornamentum virile concinnitas."Sen. Ep. 6. "Neatness of stile, is no manly ornament." The sages tell us, that as to what concerns knowledge, there is nothing but philosophy; and to what concerns effects, nothing but vertue, that is generally proper to all degrees, and to all orders. There is something like this in these two other philosophers, for they also promise eternity, to the letters they write to their friends; but 'tis after another manner, and by accommodating themselves, for a good end, to the vanity of another; for they write to them, that if the concern of making themselves known to future ages, and the thirst of glory, do yet detain them in the management of public affairs, and make them fear the solitude, and retirement to which they would persuade them; let them never 206 I HAVE EVER BEEN A SWORN ENEMY TO ALL FALSIFICATION. trouble themselves more about it, forasmuch as they shall have credit enough with posterity to assure them, that were there nothing else but the very letters thus writ to them, those letters will render their names as known, and famous as their own publick actions themselves could do. And besides this difference, these are not idle, and empty letters, that contain nothing but a fine gingle of well chosen words, and fine couch'd phrases, but rather repleat, and abounding with grave, and learn'd discourses, by which a man may render himself not more eloquent but more wise, and that instruct us not to speak, but to do well a way with that eloquence that so enchants us with its harmony, that we should more study it than things. Unless you will allow that of Cicero, to be of so supream a perfection, as to form a compleat body of it self and of him I shall further add one story, we read of him to this purpose, wherein his nature will much more manifestly be laid open to us: he was to make an oration in publick, and found himself a little straitned in time, to fit his words to his mouth, as he had a mind to do; when Eros one of his slaves brought him word, that the audience was deferr'd till the next day, at which he was so ravish'd with joy, that he enfranchis'd him for the good news. me. Upon this subject of letters, I will add this more to what has been already said, that it is a kind of writing, wherein my friends think I can do something; and I am willing to confess, I should rather have chose to publish my whimsies that way, than any other, had I had to whom to write; but I wanted such a settled correspondency, as I once had to attract me to it, to raise my fancy, and maintain the rest against For to traffick with the wind, as some others have done, and to forge vain names to direct my letters to, in a serious subject, I could never do it but in a dream, being a sworn enemy to all manner of falsification: I should have been more diligent, and more confidently secure, had I had a judicious and indulgent friend, to whom to address, than thus to expose my self to various judgments of a whole people, and I am deceiv'd if I had not succeeded better: I have naturally a comick, and familiar stile; but it is a peculiar one, and not proper for publick business, but like the language I speak, too compact, irregular, abrupt, and singular; and as to letters of ceremony, that have no other substance, than a fine contexture of courteous, and obliging words, I am wholly to seek, I have neither faculty, nor relish, for those tedious offers of service, and affection; I am not good natur'd to that degree, and should not forgive my self, should I offer more, than I intend, which is very remote from the present practice; for there never was so abject, and servile prostitution of tenders of life, soul, devotion, adoration, vassal, slave, and I cannot tell what, as now; all which expressions are so commonly, and so indifferently posted to and fro by every one, and to every one, that when they would possess a greater, and more respective inclination upon more just occasions, they have not where-withal |