36 REPENT OF FORTUNE RATHER THAN BE ASHAMED OF VICTORY. : say they but the philosopher Chrysippus was of another opinion, wherein I also concur; for he was used to say, "that those who run a race, ought to imploy all the force they have in what they are about, and to run as fast as they can; but that it is by no means fair in them to lay any hand upon their adversary to stop him, nor to set a leg before him to throw him down." And yet more generous was the answer of that great Alexander to Polypercon who persuaded him to take the advantage of the nights obscurity to fall upon Darius; "by no means (said he) it is not for such a man as I am to steal a victory," "Malo me fortunæ pœniteat, quam victoriæ pudeat.”—Quint. Curt. i. 4. "I had rather repent me of my fortune, than be asham'd of my victory." Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Orodem Obvius, adversoque occurrit, seque viro vir Contulit, haud furto melior, sed fortibus armis.-Æneid. l. 10. His heart disdain'd to strike Orodes dead, Or, unseen, basely wound him as he fled; But gaining first his front, wheels round, and there Bravely oppos'd himself to his career: And fighting man to man, would let him see CHAP. VII. THAT THE INTENTION IS JUDGE OF OUR ACTIONS. "TIS a saying, "that death discharges us of all our obligations." However, I know some who have taken it in another sense. Henry the Seventh, king of England, articled with Don Philip Son to Maximilian the Emperour, and father to the Emperour Charles the Fifth, when he had him upon English ground, that the said Philip should deliver up the Duke of Suffolk of the White Rose, his mortal enemy, who was fled into the Low Countries, into his hands; which Philip (not knowing how to evade it) accordingly promis'd to do, but upon condition nevertheless, that Henry should attempt nothing against the life of the said duke, which during his own life he perform'd; but coming to die, in his last will, commanded his son to put him to death immediately after his decease. And lately, in the tragedy, that the Duke of Alva presented to us in the persons of the two counts, Egmont, and Horne, at Brussels, there were very remarkable passages, and one amongst the rest, that the said Count Egmont (upon the security of whose word and faith Count Horne had come and surrendered himself to the duke of Alva) earnestly entreated that he might first mount the scaffold, to the end that death might disengage him from the obligation he had pass'd to the other. In which case, methinks death did not acquit the former of his promise, and the second was satisfied in the good intention of the other, even though he had not died with him: for we cannot be oblig'd beyond what we are able to perform, by reason that the effects and intentions of what we promise are not at all in our power, and that indeed we are masters of nothing but the will, in which, by necessity, all the rules and whole duty of mankind is founded and establish'd. And therefore Count Egmont, conceiving his soul and will bound and indebted to the promise, although he had not the power to make it good, had doubtless been absolv'd of his duty, even though he had outliv'd the other; but the king of England willfully and premeditately breaking his faith was no more to be excused for deferring the execution of his infidelity till after his death, than Herodotus his mason, who having inviolably, during the time of his life, kept the secret of the treasure of the king of Ægypt his master, at his death discover'd it to his children. I have taken notice of several in my time, who, convinc'd by their consciences of unjustly detaining the goods of another, have endeavour'd to make amends by their will, and after their decease: but they had as good do nothing as delude themselves both in taking so much time in so pressing an affair, and also in going about to repair an injury with so little demonstration of resentment and concern. They owe over and above something of their own, and by how much their payment is more strict and incommodious to themselves, by so much is their restitution more perfect, just, and meritorious; for penitency requires penance: but they yet do worse than these, who reserve the declaration of a mortal animosity against their neighbour to the last gasp, having conceal'd it all the time of their lives before, wherein they declare to have little regard of their own honour whilst they irritate the party offended against their memory; and less to their conscience, not having the power, even out of respect to death it self, to make their malice die with them; but extending the life of their hatred even beyond their own. Unjust judges, who deferr judgment to a time wherein they can have no knowledge of the cause! For my part, I shall take care, if I can, that my death discover nothing that my life has not first openly manifested, and publickly declar'd. CHAP. VIII.-OF IDLENESS. As we see some grounds that have long lain idle, and untill'd, when grown rank and fertile by rest, to abound with, and spend their vertue, in the product of innumerable sorts of weeds, and wild herbs, that are unprofitable, and of no wholesome use, and that to make them perform their true office, we are to cultivate and prepare them for such seeds as 38 AVOID THE LABYRINTHS OF RESTLESS IMAGINATION. are proper for our service. And as we see women that without the knowledge of men do sometimes of themselves bring forth inanimate and formless lumps of flesh, but that to cause a natural and perfect generation they are to be husbanded with another kind of seed; even so it is with wits, which if not applyed to some certain study that may fix and restrain them, run into a thousand extravagancies, and are eternally roving here and there in the inextricable labyrinth of restless imagination. Sicut aquæ tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis Like as the quivering reflection Of fountain waters, when the morning sun Whips with fantastick motion round the place, And walls and roof strikes with its trembling rays. In which wild and irregular agitation, there is no folly, nor idle fancy they do not light upon : velut ægri somnia, vance Finguntur species --Hor. de. Arte Poetica. Like sick mens dreams, that from a troubled brain The soul that has no establish'd limit to circumscribe it loses itself, as the epigrammatist says, Quisquis ubiq; habitat, maxime nusquam habitat.— Martial, lib. 7., Epig. 72. He that lives every where, does no where live. When I lately retir'd myself to my own house, with a resolution, as much as possibly I could, to avoid all manner of concern in affairs, and to spend in privacy and repose the little remainder of time I have to live: I fanci'd I could not more oblige my mind than to suffer it at full leisure to entertain and divert itself, which I also now hop'd it might the better be entrusted to do, as being by time and observation become more settled and mature; but I find, -variam semper dant otia mentem. Lucan. 1. 4. -Even in the most retir'd estate Leasure it self does various thoughts create. that, quite contrary, it is like a horse that has broke from his rider, who voluntarily runs into a much more violent career than any horseman would put him to, and creates me so many Chimera's and fantastick monsters one upon another, without order or design, that, the better at leisure to contemplate their strangeness and absurdity, I have begun to commit them to writing, hoping in time to make them asham'd of themselves. CHAP. IX.-OF LYARS. THERE is not a man living, whom it would so little become to speak of memory as my self, for I have none at all; and do not think that the world has again another so treacherous as mine. My other faculties are all very ordinary and mean; but in this I think my self very singular, and to such a degree of excellence, that besides the inconvenience I suffer by it, which merits something) I deserve methinks, to be famous for it, and to have more than a common reputation (though, in truth the necessary use of memory consider'd, Plato had reason when he call'd it a great and powerful Goddess. In my country, when they would decypher a man that has no sense, they say, such a one has no memory; and when I complain of mine, they seem not to believe I am in earnest, and presently reprove me, as tho I accus'd my self for a fool, not discerning the difference betwixt memory and understanding: wherein they are very wide of my intention, and do me wrong experi ence rather daily shewing us on the contrary, that a strong memory is commonly coupled with infirm judgment: and they do me moreover (who am so perfect in nothing as the good friend) at the same time a greater wrong in this, that they make the same words which accuse my infirmity, represent me for an ingrateful person; wherein they bring my integrity and good nature into question upon the account of my memory, and from a natural imperfection, unjustly derive a defect of conscience. He has forgot, says one, this request, or that promise; he no more remembers his friends, he has forgot, to say or do, or to conceal such and such a thing for my sake. And truly, I am apt enough to forget many things, but to neglect any thing my friend has given me in charge I never do it. And it should be enough methinks, that I feel the misery and inconvenience of it, without branding me with malice, a vice so much a stranger, and so contrary to my nature. However, 1 derive these comforts from my infirmity; first, that it is an evil from which principally I have found reason to correct a worse, that would easily enough have grown upon me; namely, ambition; this defect being intolerable in those who take upon them the negotiations of the world, an employment of the greatest honour and trust among men. Secondly, that (as several like examples in the progress of nature demonstrate to us) she has fortified me in my other faculties, proportion 40 STORIES TROUBLESOME WHEN THEY ARE TWICE TOLD. ably as she has unfurnish'd me in this; I should otherwise have been apt implicitely to have repos'd my wit and judgment upon the bare report of other men, without ever setting them to work upon any inqui sition whatever, had the strange inventions and opinions of the authors I have read, been ever present with me by the benefit of memory : Thirdly, that by this means I am not so talkative, for the magazine of the memory is ever better furnish'd with matter than that of the invention and had mine been faithful to me, I had ere this, deaf'd all my friends with my eternal babble, the subjects themselves rousing and stirring up the little faculty I have of handling, and applying them, heating and extending my discourse. Tis a great imperfection, and what I have observ'd in several of my' intimate friends, who, as their memories supply them with a present and entire review of things, derive their narratives from so remote a fountain, and crowd them with so many impertinent circumstances, that though the story be good in it self, they make a shift to spoil it; and if otherwise, you are either to curse the strength of their memory, or the weakness of their judgment: And it is a hard thing to close up a discourse, and to cut it short, when you are once in, and have a great deal more to say. Neither is there any thing wherein the force and readiness of a horse is so much seen, as in a round, graceful, and sudden stop; and I see even those who are pertinent enough, who would, but cannot stop short in their career; for whilst they are seeking out a handsome period to conclude the sence, they talk at random, and are so perplex'd, and entangled in their own eloquence, that they know not what they say. But above all, old men, who yet retain the memory of things past, and forget how often they have told them, are the most dangerous company for this fault; and I have known stories from the mouth of a man of very great quality, otherwise very pleasant in themselves becoming very troublesome, by being a hundred times repeated over and over again. The fourth obligation I have to this infirm memory of mine is, that by this means I less remember the injuries I have receiv'd; insomuch, that (as the Ancient said I should have a protocoll, a register of injuries, or a prompter, like Darius, who, that he might not forget the offence he had receiv'd from those of Athens, so oft as he sat down to dinner, order'd one of his pages three times to whoop in his ear, "Sir, remember the Athenians and also, the places which I revisit, and the books I read over again, still smile upon me with a fresh novelty.It is not without good reason said, that he who has not a good memory should never take upon him the trade of lying. I know very well, that the grammarians distinguish betwixt an untruth and a lye, and say that to tell an untruth is to tell a thing that is false, but that we our selves believe to be true; and that to lye, is to tell a thing that we know in our conscience to be utterly false and untrue; and it is of this last sort of lyars only that I now speak. Now these do either wholly contrive and invent the |