^ ta.' ^ ^^c^^^^" ^^^^ PH3I^AI>ELPHIA OTiASSi BJOSB LIBRftRY THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF JOHN EVELYN, Esq. F.R.S. AUTHOR OF SYLVA, OR, A DISCOURSE OF FOREST TgEES; MEMOIRS, &c. Boto fitjit colIecteD, toitl) occajSional Bote^, L BY WILLIAM UPGOTT, OF THE LONDON INSTITUTION. ** From an early entrance into public life to an extreme old age, he considered himself as living only for the benefit of mankind. As long as there remains a page of his numerous writings, and as long as Virtue and Science hold their abode ill tills Island, his memory will be held in the utmost veneration." . * J LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON-STREET. 1825. t A X >" ■'f m ^s i. w n THIS COLLECTION OF THE LITERARY REMAINS OF JO HN EVELYN, IS DEDICATED TO CHARLES HAMPDEN TURNER, Esg. RRS &c OF ROOKSNEST, NEAR GODSTONE, IN SURREY, THE POSSESSOR OF LEIGH PLACE, FORMERLY AN ESTATE OF THE EVELYNS; AS TO ONE WHO JUSTLY VENERATES HIS MEMORY, AND EMULATES HIS VIRTUES, BY HIS GREATLY OBLIGED, r:. AND FAITHFUL HUMBLE SERVANT, roKnnv T WILLIAM UPCOTT. LONDON iNSTiTUTION, May 30, 1S2 5. f PREFACE. The amiable, accomplished, and worthy Patriot and Philosopher, whose Miscellaneous Writings are here for the first time given to the world in a collected form, is already known to fame by his " Sylva, or Discourse of Forest Trees ;" but more especially since the ■J recent pubhcation of his " Diary and Correspondence," in which the principal events of his Ufe and times are so delightfully laid open to us, that no other work of the kind, attractive as auto -biography generally is, can in any degree compare with it for the interest it excites, and the amusement it affords. \ In tliis Kalendarium, or Diary of his Life, he has so often ad- verted to his writings, that* a general reference to that work would ll perhaps have answered the purpose of a Preface, but the Reader may consider something more than a mere table of contents neces- sary to inform him what he is to expect in the following pages. It is a remarkable circumstance that, though Evelyn's mind was early turned to literature, for he tells us he began to journalize, and note occurrences when he was in his eleventh year, the first ascer- tained production of his pen was not published until he had attained the mature age of twenty-nine. This pubhcation, the first tract in the present volume, is a translation from the French, of an " Essay on Liberty and Servitude," by La Mothe le Vayer ; it appeared in 1649, only a few days previous to the martyrdom of his Sovereign. On this occasion, the honest hardihood with which Evelyn, in his preface, ventured to express his loyalty and hatred of anarchy had nearly brought him into trouble : ' Never (says he) was there heard or read of a more equal and excellent form of government than that under which we have ourselves lived during the reign of our most gi-a- cious Sovereign's halcyon days. — If therefore we were the most happy of subjects, why do we attempt to render ourselves the most miserable of slaves? God is one, and better it is to obey one than many. Neque VUl enim Lihertas tutior ulla est qiiam Domino servire bono, that is, C[harles].' La Motlie le Vayer has not unaptly been styled the French Plu- tarch : his essays, though they betray somewhat of a cynical and sceptical disposition, are fraught with good sense, and fiill of learn- ing ; his works have been a storehouse whence philosophical Essay- ists of later times have gleaned an unacknowledged harvest of inge- nious thoughts : Evelyn has on more than one occasion shown that he was familiar with his productions. The scope of this essay, it will be understood, is Philosophical Liberty, not that ' impostoria pila,' which has been the bait held out to the many by the design- ing few in all times of anarchy. " The State of France, as it stood in the ninth year of this present Monarch Louis XIV., written to a Friend by J. E.," was pubUshed in 1652. To this was prefixed a Prefatory Letter, which contains some admirable observations upon the utility and end of Foreign Travel. Speaking of himself, he says, " what first moved me to this ' apodemick humour,' was a certain vain emulation which I had to see the best of education, which eveiy body so decrying at home, made me conceive was a commodity only to be brought from a far country ; and I cannot say, -without a little ambition too of know- ing, or at least of having the privilege to talk something more than others could reasonably pretend to, that had never bin out of sight of their own chimnies' smoke." This is doubtless the predominant motive of ordinary travellers, and there is great honesty in the con- fession ; but Evelpi's judgment taught him to derive better fruits from it. He knew, that ' he who would travel rationally must in- dustriously apply himself to the pursuit of such objects as may result to the profit of his own country at his return. It is not the count- ing of steeples and making tours, but this ethical and moral part of travel which embellisheth a gentleman.' Evelyn had been preceded in the judicious observations of liis preface by the pleasant little book of our favourite James Howel, " Instructions for Forreine Travel," published in 1642, which even^ now may be read with advantage and pleasure. Tn the substance of his work too he had > IX a precursor in Sir George Carew, though he could not have been acquainted with his book, which is a relation of the state of France in the reign of Henry the IVth. draM^n up during his embassy, and presented to King James I. at his return in 1 609. This curious and interesting performance was first printed by Dr. Birch in 1/49. Had Evelyn, however, been familiar with the work of his prede- cessor, it would not have deterred him from giving the result of his own observations : for he justly remarks, that France in his time was * now no more the thing it was forty years since,' and that the kingdom had imdergone as great a change as the garb and fashion of men. In the previous year (1651) he had put forth a little satirical jev (T esprit, entitled, " A Character of England," written in the assumed form of a translation from the French, in which he touches with no unsparing hand the defects of the national character ; the coarse- ness of manners, and want of due observance of the established fonns of devotion attendant upon those times of turbulent faction. This called forth the animadversions of some anonymous writer, under the title of " Gallus Castratus," and it has been thought proper to insert this piece as a running commentary, that if Evelyn's pictm-e be in some degree too highly coloured, it may find its cor- rective in the same page. Some of the defects which he has laid to the charge of his countrymen, are also urged against them by Samuel Sorbiere, in the account which he published of his visit to England in 1663, and to which Bishop Sprat afterwards replied. In 1656 he published what he calls " An Essay on the First Book of Lucretius de Rermn Naturd, interpreted and made into English verse ;" Avith a frontispiece designed by his accomplished and excellent lady, and with laudatory verses by Edmund Waller the poet. It has not been deemed necessary to give any portion of this translation : when Evelyn attempted verse he only added one more instance to the many of persons, otherwise of excellent judgment, who have mistaken their powers. Indeed he does not seem to have been satisfied with his own attempt, and having received much chagrin at the very incorrect manner in which it was b printed, never proceeded with the task, as was his first intention. Upon this occasion, that excellent Prelate Jeremy Taylor thus ad- dressed him ; " I Avill not say to you, that your Lucretius is as far distant from the severity of a Christian, as the Fair Ethiopian was from the duty of Bishop Heliodorus ; for, indeed, it is nothing but what may become the labours of a Christian gentleman, those things only abated which our evil age needs not ; for which also I hope you have by notes, or will by preface, prepare a sufficient antidote." The shadow of a doubt thrown upon the propriety of this under- taking by this pious friend, might shake the resolution of one, whose motives to the translation probably were that the poem contained an exposition of the Epicurean Philosophy. The year 1659 was a busy and eventful period with Evelyn ; he then published his translation of " The Golden Book of St. Chry- sostora, on the Education of Children," which he dedicated to his brothers George and Richard, ' to comfort them on the loss of their children ;' and at the same time to unburthen his heart, by a tribute to the memory of his own extraordinarily gifted child, Richard, whom he had recently lost, in his sixth year ; he was ' one of those rare and beautiful creatures who seem always to be marked for early death, as if they were fitter for heaven than earth, and therefore are removed before the world can sully them.' The ac- count of his son finds its place also in his Diary, in nearly the same words. It will be read, as it was written, with the tribute of tears. It nuist have been a happy circumstance, that the position of the kingdom was then such as to excite in the loyal breast of Evelyn a hope that the Restoration might be effected ; it roused his ener- gies, and probably helped to dissipate his sorrows. To aid the cause he used his strenuous exertions, not only in endeavouring to gain over Colonel Morley, the Governor of the Tower, who had been his school-fellow, thus placing his own life at hazard ; but by his pen, publishing " his bold ' Apology ' for tlie King, in this time of danger, when it was capital to speak or write in favour of him." Its success was complete ; its popularity was such, that it was three times printed within the year. XI He stopped not here, but again entered the field to repel the malicious 'slanders of the adverse party. Marchuiont Needham had published a coarse attack upon the character of King Charles the Second, intituled, " News from Brussels, in a Letter from a near attendant on his Majesty's person, to a person of honour here ; dated March 10, 1659." Its purpose was to destroy the favourable impression the nation entertained of the King's naturally good dis- position. Evelyn's detection of the forgery, and refutation of it, was quickly penned, and proved a complete antidote ; it was pub- lished anonymously, under the title of " The News from Brussels Unmasked." The merit was the greater in this case, as he rose from a bed of sickness to his task, and endangered his life by the exertion ; it caused a relapse of his disorder, ' out of which (says he, with unaffected piety) it pleased God also to free me, so as 1 was able by the 14th [April] to go into the country, which I did to my sweet native air of Wooton.' In the same year he had found time to give to the press a work connected with his favourite Hortulan pursuits, entitled, " The French Gardener," which he describes with honest confidence as ' the first and best of that kind, that introduced the use of the Olitorie garden to any purpose.' The happy tidings of the King's declaration and application to the Parliament soon after reached him, and he was designed to have accompanied Lord Berkley with the Address to invite the King over to resume his Government, but was yet too weak to bear the fatigues of the journey. He, however, received a gracious message from Charles, and was sufficiently recovered to witness the joyful entry of the King into London, after seventeen years sad and long exile. He ' stood in the Strand and beheld it, and bless'd God !' It may be imagined that he was well received at Court. The King, who called him his old acquaintance, offered him the Order of the Bath, which he declined, but was better pleased to be nominated one of the Council of the Royal Society, of which he had just been elected a Fellow. He had now leisure to devote himself to the pursuit of the arts he Xil loved, and was actively employed in promoting them by every means in his power. In 1661 was published a translation of Gabriel Naude's instructions, concernuig the erection of a library, which he addressed in a Dedication to Lord Chancellor Clarendon. This piece had a shnilar fate to his unfortunate translation of Lucretius; for being printed during his absence from London in a careless manner, it abounds with typographical errors *. At the end of the book is a letter to Dr. Barlow, Provost of Queen's College, by which it appears, that the Doctor wished to have honoured Eve- lyn, by printing the book at Oxford, but that his purpose was de- feated by the copy being mislaid at the printing-house. At the close of the same year he published, and presented to the King, his curio vis essay, called " Funiifugium ; or, the Inconveni- ence of the Aer and Smoke of London Dissipated ; together with some remedies humbly proposed." The plans by which it M^as in- tended to obviate the inconvenience were ingenious, and the King commanded Evelyn to prepare a bill against the next Session of Parliament, to carry part of them into effect ; but it does not appear that any thing of the kind was attempted. Yet Evelyn tells us in * In a copy of this essay, in the library of Mr. S. W. Singer, of Boxhill ; Evelyn has cor- rected tlie most prominent errata with his own hand, and written the following letter on the first leaf: " For My worthy Frietid, Dr. Godolphin. " Sir. This trifle (which you tell me you met with in some catalogue of an auction) was printed during my absence from London (now near twenty-eight years since) by a very imperfect copy (my owne having been lost in the printing-house at Oxford), anil is so extremely deforni'd thro' the cor- rectors negligence, that 1 have done all I am able to suppress the vending of it. It is yet a very useful discourse, and upon that account I presented it to some such friends as you are, who will pardon the errata, and deplore the coirion calamitie incident to writers and translators of bookes ; which is (unless they attend on the press like slaves) to be at the mercy of sotts and drunkards, that can neither print sense nor English ; nor, indeed, any other language, tho' it lie never so plainely before them. Witnesse the first booke of Lucretius, which I made an essay on, almost thirty yeares past, where the Latine i re^ione (and from an incomparable Plantine edition) was abused in some hundreds of places ; it not being possible for me to imagine Dr. Triplet (who was the sole supervisor, and offer'd me his service) should take no more care. And this little pani|)hlet has been so miserably treated by them, that the wounds are incurable." — At the end of the volume is the following note also in the hand-writing of Evelyn: " Fluriuia quidem restant hisce non minora splialmata, sive a me, sive ab ipso typographo coiiiissa, quibus ignoscat amicissiraus doctor.' XIU his Diary, 11th January 1662, ' I received of Sir Peter Ball, the Queenes Attorney, a draught of an Act against the nuisance of the Smoke of London, to be reform'd by removing several trades which are the cause of it, and indanger the health of the King and his people. It was to have been ofter'd to the Parliament as his Majesty commanded.' As late as the year 1772 this tract found an anony- mous editor, who, struck by the increased and increasing evil, re- commended it (in a Preface, which will be found in the following pages) to the attention of the Magistrates and Legislature. Another singular production of Evelyn's pen issued from the press in 1661, entitled " Tyrannus, or the Mode." This very curi- ous and rare pamphlet having found a place in the second volume of the Evelyn papers, is of course omitted in the present collection. A few years after, King Charles II. made an attempt to change the fashion of dress, and introduce a costume formed upon the Per- sian mode, which, though somewhat strangely timed, as happening just after the Fire of London, was yet worthy of success ; ' his Majesty put himself solemnly into the Eastern fashion, changing doublet, stiff collar, bands and cloak, into a comely vest, after the Persian mode, with girdle or straps, &c. resolving never to alter it, and to leave the French mode, which had hitherto obtained, to our great expence and reproach.' The King had not constancy to per- sist in his resolution, his courtiers wagered with him that he would not, and they were right. Evelyn in his pamphlet which he gave to the King to read, had described the comeliness and usefulness of the Persian costume, and it is more than probable that Charles had been convinced by his reasoning. The year 1662 produced his magnum opus, the " Sylva," a work whose beneficial influence upon the prosperity of the country has been so prodigious, that its author justly deserves to be ranked among her chiefest worthies ; had he lived in times like ours, a vo- tive statue of colossal size erected upon the hill which overlooks the place of his birth, would probably have been his meed. Many causes had operated to the diminution of our woods and forests. Men were not planters but destroyers of wood, without thought of XIV the future; but the cml wars gave a final blow to the work of havock : ' the aged oaks, like the old families which owned them, were, by these enemies of all that was elegant and venerable, doomed to destruction :' feeling their tenure insecure, and ' professing them- selves against root and branch, either to be reimbursed their holy purchases, or for some other sordid respect, they were tempted not only to fell and cut down, but utterly to extirpate, demolish, and raze all those many goodly woods and forests which our more pru- dent ancestors left standing for the service of their country.' At the Restoration, Charles II. intent upon the augmentation of his nav)^ the kingdom's surest bulwark, became alarmed at the formidable devastation which had been made ; some queries were directed to the Royal Society, to which Evelyn was deputed to re- ply, and his " Sylva, or, Discourse of Forest Trees, and the propa- gation of Timber," was the result. It was the first book printed by order of the Society, and was most flatteringly received. The King thanked him more than once for it ; in fact, never was a work attended with more complete success. It sounded the trumpet of alarm to the nation on the condition of the woods and forests, and awakened the landholders to a sense of their own and their coun- try's interests. Evelyn's old age was blessed in the consciousness of the beneficial effects his book had produced ; he lived to know that many milUons of forest trees had been propagated and planted at his instigation. It was a work of love ; the wi-iter's soul was in his subject, and the reader cannot but catch part of his enthusiasm. It is not the planter alone, but every admirer of nature that may find instruction and amusement in this delightful work. It is a store- house of curious facts and anecdotes relating to trees ; and though the reader may sometimes smile at the amusing superstition of the writer, he will more frequently have occasion to admire his fervent strain of piety. He laboured to the end of his long life in giving it all the perfection in his power, and at a late period we find him thus encouraging the planter with the promise of longevity : 'It is ob- seiTcd that planters are often blessed with health and old age. The days of a tree are the days of my people, says the prophet Isaiah. XV Hcec scri'psi octogenarius, and shall, if God protract my years, and continue my health, be continually planting, till it shall please him to transplant me into those glorious regions above, planted with perennial groves and trees bearing immortal fruit.' The first edition of the Sylva was in 1664, and it passed through five editions during the author's life. The work was republished in 1776, by Dr. Andrew Hunter, of York *, with copious and valuable notes and excellent plates. The same beneficial effects seem to have attended this republication ; it revived the ardour for planting which the first edition had excited. The work again became so popular, that four large impressions were called for. The last, in 1825, eon- tains Dr. Hunter's latest improvements ; but those who are fortunate enough to possess the edition of 177^, may treasure it on account of the engravings, particularly for ' the admirable portrait of Eve- lyn by Bartolozzi, which, under the lean and fallen features of age, exhibits all the intelligence and fire of youth.' His " ScuLPTURA, or, the History and Art of Chalcography and Engraving on Copper," was printed in 1662, at the express desire of the Royal Society, and was written at the reiterated in- stance of the distinguished Robert Boyle, to whom it is dedicated. In this work was first given to the world the method of engraving in Mezzotinto, invented and communicated by Prince Rupert, with a plate engraved by his royal hand, of which an accurate copy accom- panies the present re-impression. This work having become ex- tremely scarce was reprinted in 1755, with the advantage of some additions from the author's own corrected copy, which have received the attention due to them. His translation of Roland Freart's " Parallel of Antient and Mo- dern Architecture," was printed in 1664, and was also dedicated to the King, with a prefatory letter to Sir John Denham. This dedi- * Dr. Hunter also republished Evelyn's "Terra, a Philosophical Discourse of Earth," with notes. The first edition of this tract was in 16*5 ; it was also printed by order of the Royal Society. To some of the later editions of the Sylva this essay was joined, together with Pomona, an Appendix concerning fruit trees and cider. XVI cation and letter containing several curioifi particulars, are given in the following pages. There was a second edition of this work in 1669, and a third in 1697, to which last was appended a very useful supplementary "Account of Architects and Architecture," with a prefatory addi'ess to Sir Christopher Wren, in which there is an in- teresting passage relating to the rebuilding of St. Paul's. This tract, as an original work of Evelyn's, of course finds a place in the present collection. " The Kalendarium Hortense ; or, Gardener's Almanack," was also first published in this year. In the second edition, he inscribed it to his amiable friend Cowley, who ' had once been pleased to suspend his noble raptures in order to transcribe it.' This called forth " The Garden," that heart-felt effusion of Cowley's muse, which he addressed to Evelyn, in 1666, and which is here printed from the original autograph manuscript. The poet thus apostro- phizes Evelyn : Happy art thou whom God does bless With the full choice of thine own happiness I And happier yet, because thou 'rt blest With prudence how to chuse the best ! In books and Gardens thou hast plac'd aright — Thy noble innocent delight : And in thy virtuous Wife, where thou again dost meet Both pleasures more refin'd and sweet : The fairest garden in her looks, And in her mind the wisest books. O who would change these solid joys. For empty shows and senseless noise, And all which rank ambition breeds, Which seem such beauteous flowers, and are such poisonous weeds ? Evelyn's measme of happiness was indeed full, and this is no over- charged picture of his fcHcity. The Kalendarium, as might be expected, was very popular, and quickly passed through several editions. It has been thought ad- visable to reprint it for the gratification of the curious Horticulturist. -^ XVll The edition which has been made use of is the tenth, which received the latest improvements of the Author just previous to the close of his life. In 1664 was also published " The Mystery of Jesuitism," deve- loping the pernicious consequences of the new heresy of the Jesuits against Kings and States. He undertook the translation of this from the French, at the desire of Lord Cornbury and his illustrious father Lord Clarendon. Of this, as being a translation, the Dedi- catory Epistle only is given. Sir George Mackenzie having published at Edinburgh, in 1665, <' A Moral Essay, preferring Solitude to Pubhc Employment," Evelyn took up the pen to answer the arguments in that pleasing little work, and in 166/ appeared " Public Employment and an Active Life, with all its appanages, such as Fame, Command, Riches, Conversation, &c. preferred to Solitude ; in reply to a late ingenious Essay of a contrary title." Never was a controversy conducted with more good temper and politeness. After highly complimenting his antagonist, Evelyn says, ' The war is innocent, and I would be glad that this way of velitation and short discourses upon all arguments, in which otiier languages greatly outdo us, might exercise our reason and improve our English style, which yet wants the culture of our more Southern neighbours.' It is remarkable, that it was a person busily employed in scenes of active life, the King's Advocate for Scotland, who was contending for solitude ; while Evelyn, whose pursuits were princi- pally those which ornament a retired life, was the champion of pub- lic and active employment. Letters of civil congratulation passed afterwards between the disputants, which have been fortunately preserved, and are now for the first time prefixed to Evelyn's essay. In a letter to Cowley, soon after the publication, he thus expresses himself: ' You had reason to be astonished at the presumption, not to name it afli-ont, that I who have so highly celebrated Recesse, and envied it in others, should become an advocate for the enemie which, of all others, it abhors and flies from. I conjure you to be- c XVIU lieve that I am still of the same mind, and that there is no person alive who does more honour and breathe after the life and repose you so happily cultivate and adorn by your example. But as those Avho prays'd dirt, a flea, and the gowte, so have I public employ- ment in that trifling essay, and that in so weak a style, compar'd to my antagonists, as by that alone it will appear, / neither was nor could be serious, and I hope you believe I speak my veiy soul to you.' Sunt enim Musis sua ludicra, tnista Camoenis Otia sunt Some apology was indeed necessary to his recluse friend, for the seeming inconsistency of his opinions, for he had pubUcly approved his love of retirement, and told him that he applauded his contempt of the world ; whilst in seclusion he continued in repose and self- possession, cultivating the leisure, the liberty, the books, the medi- tations, and, above all, the learned and choice friendships he en- joyed. ' Who (says he) would not Hke you caclier sa vie ? It was the wise impress of Balzac, and of Plutarch before him ; you give it lustre and interpretation. I swear to you, Sir, it is what in the world I most imvardly breathe after and pursue ; not to say that I envy your felicity, delivered from the gilded impertinencies of life, to enjoy the moments of a solid and pure contentment.' Hisprojecttoo of a kind of Lay-monastery, which he once seriously entertained intentionsof founding, and the plan of which is to befound in the works of the Hon. Robert Boyle, in a letter addi-essed to that eminent philosopher, may show that he was serious in his profession of loving ' the life remov'd.' It has been said, that his active mind was not fitted for retirement, and that he felt that he could be of more service to mankind in the busy scenes of public life. It is cer- tain, though he did not seek it, that he did not shrink from public employment ; and the arduous and painful office of one of the Com- missioners for taking care of the sick and wounded prisoners during the war with the Dutch, was filled by him with exemplary persever- ance, under circumstances the most trying. Money and means of XIX every kind were wanting. The distress and anxiety of uiind which he suffered in the performance of liis duty, are painted by himself in Hvely colours in his Diary. It may be remarked that Le Vayer, whose works we have before observed were familiar to him, has a curious dialogue on the subject of Retirement. It is among those Avhich he published under the name of Oratius Tubero, and entitled " De La Vie Priv^e." His arguments however are opposed to those of Evelyn ; yet we may perceive that the latter was not unacquainted with this per- formance, which is well worth reading. The writer had at least the merit of being earnestly sincere in the cause he advocates ; he was a man who in manners is said to have approached the simplicity of the philosophers of old. In 1669 appeared Evelyn's translation of Roland Freart's '* Idea of the Perfection of Painting, demonstrated from the Principles of Art," with a Dedication to his illusti-ious friend Henry Howard, who had previously, at his instance, made that noble donation, the Arunde- lian marbles, to the University of Oxford. In this address he solicits him to cause his collection of Sculpture in his galleries at Arundel House to be engraved from good designs, as it would much contri- bute to the glory of the country, the honour of his illustrious family, and the advancement of art. This piece has been accounted one of the scarcest of Evelyn's publications, and as it is short and interest- ing, commands a place in this volume. " The History of the Three late Impostors, Padre Ottomano, Ma- homed Bei, and Sabate Sevi," was pubhshed in 1669. The mate- rials of the principal narration he received from a Persian gentle- man, whom he called Sig. Pietro Cisij. At the end of it is added an account of the extirpation of the Jews in Persia, in the time of Shah Abbas the Second. This work arose from an honest desire to expose imposture, and contains many curious particulars. His " Navigation and Commerce, their Original and Progress," published in 16/4, was written as an Introduction to the History of the Dutch War ; imdertaken by Evelyn at the express connnand of XX ''X King Charles II., and the materials for which were furnished by the Officers of State. The work would have formed at least 800 or 1000 pages in folio, and a great portion of it was prepared for the press, when it was put a stop to by the King himself, for some reason which does not appear. Conjecture, however, suggests that Evelyn was too veracious in his history. It appears, from his Diary, that he very much disapproved many of the transactions which it would have be- come his duty to narrate. His MS., as far as it was completed, he put into the hands of Mr. Pepys ; but Mr. Bray sought for it in vain in the Pepysian collection at Cambridge. This introductory Preface was written at the suggestion of Lord Arlington, and was intended to contain ' a complete deduction of the progress of Na\agation and Commerce, from its fii-st principle to the time in Avliich it was written, — all contests and differences -with the Dutch at sea being derived from that source only.' Evelyn was now a member of the Council of Trade and Plantations, and he inscribed, with propriety, this essay to the King. The " Mundus Muliebris, or Ladies Dressing-room Unlocked, with the Fop-Dictionary," is a little playful satire, in which he had been assisted by his lovely and accomplished daughter JMary, whom he had the affliction to lose in her nineteenth year, and whose cha- racter he has so exquisitely and pathetically delineated in his Jour- nal. This was published in 1690. In 1697 he published his " Numismata; a Discourse of Medals, Ancient and Modern, &c. with a digression on Physiognomy." But as this science was in its infancy when he wrote, and the public are in possession of excellent modern works on the subject, by Pinker- ton, Ruding, and others, no part of this production is admitted into the following collection. The last tract in the present volume, " Acetaria, a Discourse of Sallets," was printed in 1699. In the preface he mentions a work on which he had spent upwards of forty years, and his collections for which filled several thousand pages. This was his grand Hortu- lan design, which he purposed calling Elvsiuji Britannicum. The XXI A cetaria and the Gardeners Kalendar were only chapters in this great work, which was to have embraced every thing connected with a Garden. The plan of this Elysium has been printed among the Evelyn Papers, and his miscellaneous collections for it, exist among the manuscripts at Wooton. Evelyn, like Lord Bacon, thought that a garden " afforded the purest of human pleasures," and his notions of ornamental garden- ing were such as that great man has shadowed out in his interesting essay, wherein he treats ' Of Gardens.' In one point they differ ; Bacon would have a prince-like garden to consist of ' thirty acres:' Evelyn's Elysium, though the design was so enormous, might yet have been comprehended within two or three acres, 'nay, within the square of less than one (skilfully planned and cultivated), and yet have been sufficient to entertain his time and thoughts all his life long, with a most innocent, agreeable, and useful employment.' The good sense of Lord Bacon evinced itself in one respect ; he did not admire topiary work, ' images cut out in juniper, or other garden- stuff, they being for children.' EveljTi's design would have compre- hended all sorts of knot, labyi-inth, and ground-work, all kinds of topiary and hortulan architecture, with the accompaniments of hy- draulic music, and every species of fountain, grotto, rocks, crypts, and mounts. So vast was his conception, that he thought ' it would require the revolution of many ages, with deep and long ex- perience, for any man to emerge a perfect and accomplished artist gardener ! ' He had conceived and planned another work, almost too compre- hensive even for his universal genius; this was " A General History of all Trades." He has assigned good and solid reasons for laying this work aside in a letter to Mr. Boyle. His " Sculptura," was only one portion of this vast project ; he had also prepared treatises on the several arts of painting in oil and in mhiiature ; annealing in glass ; enameling; and making marble paper. But none of these were published. A complete list of his pubUcations will be found in the second xxu volume of the Evelyn Papers, p. 8/ ; among these he enumerates as in manuscript, Thyrsander, a Tragy-comedie ; and an essay on the Dignity of Mankind. It was towai'd the close of 1699, that, by the death of his elder brother George, he succeeded to his paternal estate, and early in the succeeding year he first visited it as owner. His seat at Sayes Court, Avhich he used fondly to call his ' Little Zoar,' delighted him sufficiently, but Wooton had his heart. It was the place of his birth, and endeared to him by a thousand filial ties. He often speaks of it with rapture in his Sylva ; and in his Diary he says, ' It is so sweetly environed ^^ath those delicious streams and venerable woods, as in the judgment of strangers as well as English- men, it may be compared to one of the most pleasant seates in the nation, and most tempting for a great person and a wanton purse to render it conspicuous : it has rising grounds, meadows, woods, and water in abimdance.' It is indeed a beautiful spot, highly favoured by nature ; and full of pleasing associations, sources of the purest mental pleasure, while we ' Invoke the Lares of his lov'd retreat, And his lone walks imprint with pilgrim feet,' imagination bodies forth the shade of the virtuous and the benefi- cent Evelyn, and of his excellent and amiable friend the poet Cowley. The most finished biographical sketch could have no claim to di- vert the reader a moment from the amusing and instructive pages of Evelyn's Diary, in which he has recorded the events of his life in an unaffected strain of pious sincerity ; nothing of the kind is there- fore here attempted. It is a proud and gratifying reflection to the Editor of the present volume, that he was the hmnble but instrumental cause of the pub- lication of that delightful work, which has raised the name of Evelyn in public estimation, and awakened attention to his other writings. Many of his fugitive pieces are of extreme rarity, and almost all xxm of them are difficult to be met with. He trusts, therefore, that he shall have rendered no unacceptable service to the world of letters, in collecting these frondes caducee of the author of the Sylva, whose whole life was devoted to the advancement of those arts which have been the source of the wealth, greatness, and prosperity of his country. Their intrinsic merit called for the more general diffusion of these literary remains of one Avhose life offers the most perfect model of what an Enghsli gentleman should be : who living was an example of public and private virtue, and who dymg bequeathed this golden sentence to be inscribed on his tomb for the advantage of posterity: — ' In an age of extraor- dinary EVENTS AND REVOLUTIONS, HE LEARNT THAT ALL IS VANITY WHICH IS NOT HONEST, AND THAT THERE IS NO SOLID WISDOM BUT IN REAL PIETY.' atxr TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGE. Dedication v Introduction vii — xxii /"rflrf. Of Liberty AND Servitude, 1649. Translated from the French of M. de la Mothe le Vayer 1 — 38 Advertisement of the Editor 3 The Author's Epistle 4 The Translator's Epistle, — Address to the Reader 5 Verses to the Translator, by A. Ross. ... 6 Table of Chapters 7 The Proem— Chap. I. 8. Of Liberty and Servitude in Generall 8 — 10 Chap. IL — In what our Liberty and our Servitude doth consist 10 — 13 Chap. 111. — That there is none can truly affirme himselfe to be free 13 — 16 Chap. IV. — Of the Liberty Philosophique 17—27 Chap, v.— Of the Servitude of the Court 27—37 The Conclusion 37—38 Tract, The State of France, 1652. . .39 — 95 Epistle Dedicatorv to the Translation of the French Gardiner, 165S. . 97 — 98 Ditto, to the Second Edition oi Ditto, 1669. . 99 Address to the Reader, prefixed to the same work 100 Ditto, to Rose's English Vineyard Vindicated 101—102 Tract, The Golden Book of St. John Chrysostom, 1659 ; Translated from the Greek 103 — 140 The Epistle Dedicatory 105 — 1 1 1 Epitaph on Richard Evelyn, — Note to the Reader y2 Notes upon some Passages 138 — 140 Tract, A Character of England, 1659; Translated from the French .... 141 — 167 A Letter in vindication of this Character, 143—146 To the Reader 147 Tract, An Apology eor the Royal Party, 1G59 169—192 Tract, The late News from Bkussels Unmasked, 1660 193 — 204 Explanatory Note 194 Tract, FuMiFUGiUM, 1661 205—242 To the King's Most Sacred Majesty 207—209 To the Reader 209 — 211 Preface to the Modern Edition, I772, 212—214 Part I, 215—230 d PAGE. Part II 231 — 239 Part III. An offer at the Improvement and Melioration of the Aer of London, by way of Plantation 239 — 242 Tract, ScuLPTURA, 1C62 243 — 335 To the Honourable and Learned Gentle- man Robert Boyle, Esq 245 — 246 An Account of Signor Giacomo Favi247 — 250 A Table of the Titles of the Chapters 251 — 257 Authors and Books consulted 257 Chap. I. Of Sculpture, how derived. . 258 — 263 Chap. II. Of the Original of Sculpture in general 263 — 269 Chap. III. Reputation and Progress of Sculpture amongst the Ancients 270 — 276 Chap. IV. The Invention and Progress of Chalcography in particular, and an Account of the old Masters 276 — 311 Chap.V. Of Drawing and Design, &C.312 — 333 Chap. VI. Of the new way of Engraving or Mezzotinto 333 — 335 An Advertisement 335 — 336 The Epistles Dedicatory, prefixed to Freart'.s Parallel between An- cient AND Modern Architecture, 1664 337—348 To the Most Serene Majesty of Charles the Second 339 — 34*2 To Sir John Denham 343 — 346 Latin Verses addressed to Evelyn by Dr. Beale 347, 34S Tract, An Account of Architects and .Architecture . . •. 349 — 424 To my most honoured Friend, Sir Christo- pher Wren, Knight . 351,352 To the Reader 353, 354 Tract, Kalendarium Hortense, or the Gardener's Almanack, 1664 425 — 498 Illustrative Note 427 To Abraham Cowley, Esq 499 Introduction to the Kalendar. ..'... 430 — 434 The Garden, to John Evelyn, Esq. by A. Cowley 435 — 442 January 443 — 446. February 447 — 449. March 449 — 454. April 454 — 45!). May 4,-)9— 463. June 463—467. July 467—471. August 471—475. Sep- tember 475— 479. October 479 — 482. November 482 — 486. December 487 — 488 .ANewConservatory, orGreenHouse 490 — 495 A Letter from Sir Dudley Cullum to J. Evelyn, Esq. concerning the newly- invented Stove 4i)7, 40b XXVI PAGE. Dedicatory Epistle to the Mystery of Jesuitism, 1664 499, 500 Trnct. Public Employment preferred TO Solitude, 1667 501 — 552 Illustrative Note 502 Letter between Sir George Mackenzie and John Evelyn 503, 504 Dedication : — To the Hon. Sir Richard Browne, Knight and Bart 505 — 507 To the Reader .507 — 509 Epistles prefixed to Freart's Idea of the Perfection of Painting, 1668, 553 — 562 Evelyn's notice of the Work 554 Dedication : — To the Illustrious Henry Howard of Norfolk 555—558 To the Reader 559—562 Tract, History of the Three late Fa- mous Impostors, 1669 563 — 620 Dedication : — To the Right Hon. Henry, Lord Arlington 565, 566 To the Reader 567, 568 Tiie History of Padre Ottomano, the First Impostor 569 — 577 The Story of Mahomed Bey 578 — 586 The History of Sabatai Sevi, the Third Impostor 587 — 614 The History of the late Final Extirpation of the Jews out of Persia 615 — 620 Letter to Viscount Brouncker, con- cerning a new Engine for Plough- ing, &c. 1669-70 621, 622 PAGE. Dedication to Renatus Rapinus of Gardens, 1673 C23— 624 Tract, Navigation and Commerce, 1674 625—686 Dedication : — To the King 627 Letter to Mr. Aubrey', concerning Surrey Antiquities, &c. 1675-76 687 — 6"91 Abstract of a Letter to the Royal Society, concerning the Damage done to his Gardens in the preceding Winter 1684 692—696 Tract, MuNDUs MuLiEBRis, or the Ladies Dressing-room Unlocked, 1690 . 697 — 713 Illustrative Note 698 Preface 699—702 The Fop Dictionary 710—713 Advertisement to the Translation of the Compleat Gardener, by M. de la Quintenye, 1693 714 — 717 Ditto, to M. de la Quintenye's Directions concerning Melons 71S Ditto, to M. de la Quintenye's Directions concerning Orange Trees 71 8 — 720 Tract, Acetaria: a Discourse of Sal- lets, 1699 721—812 Illustrative Note concerning it 722 To the Right Honourable Lord John Somers, of Evesham, i-c. &c. . . . 723 — 727 The Preface , 728—730 The Plan of a Royal Garden 730—732 Appendix 800—812 Index S 1,'J LIST OF PLATES. To face the Title-page : — Fac Simile of a Letter by John Evelyn, addressed to Dr. Thoma« Tennison, Archbishop of Canterbury. — The subject of this letter will be found particularly alluded to in Evelyn's Diary and Correspondence, first edition, vol. 1, page 495. P. 243. Fac-Simile Frontispiece to the Sculptura, after a Design by J. Evelyn. On the same Plate is an Engraving illustrative of the manner of forming lines and shadows on round sub- stances, particularly described and referred to on page 321. P. 333. Mezzotinto Head of an Executioner, after Spagnoletto, originally engraved and presented by Prince Rupert to Evelyn for his Sculptura, as a specimen of his newly invented art. Copied from an original in)pression by Say. P. 425. Frontispiece to the Kalendarium Hortense, after the original engravings by Hertocks. OF LIBERTY AND SERVITUDE TRANSLATED OUT OF THE FRENCH (OF THE SIEUR DE LA MOTHE LE VAYER) INTO THE ENGLISH TONGUE, AND DEDICATED TO GEORGE EVELYN, Esouire. Melib. Et quae tanta fuit Romam tibi causa videndi ? Tit. Libertas : quce, sera tamen, respexit inertem. ViRG. Eel. 1. LONDON: PRINTED FOR M. MEIGHEN, AND G. BEDELL, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT THEIR SHOP AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE. 1649. ^>. BY JOHN EVELYN, ^^O ADVERTISEMENT OF THE EDITOR. The following Tract is merely a translation from the French of M. de la Mothe le Vayer*, yet it becomes interesting as Evelyn's first literary undertaking, and is re-printed verbatim from the copy found in his own possession containing his MSS. notes. In 1781 it was purchased by Mr. Bindley, probably from Mr. J. Robson, the late well-known bookseller of Bond-street, who bought a large portion of the Evelyn library from that family about the year 1767. At the disposal of Mr. Bindley's collection in December 1818, it came into the possession of George Watson Taylor, Esq. on the sale of whose books it was purchased by the Editor, March 26, 1823. A descriptive note on the fly-leaf of the volume contains the following character in the autograph of Mr. Bindley : " This little book was the first of Evelyn's productions, and is seldom to be met with; and this very copy belonged to himself, as appears by his own hand-writing abovef : in the title-page is a curious memorandum concerning the book, ascertaining also the precise time of its publication. J. B. 1781." The note alluded to is written in pencil, as well as the acknowledgment, by the insertion of his own name, that he was the translator of the tract : " I was like to be call'd in question by the Rebells for this booke, being published a few days before his Majesty's decollation." , * Francis De la Mothe le Vayer was a sceplical but celebrated French writer of the seventeenth century, who was born at Paris in 1588, and died in IG'J'-Z. His works are extensive, and embrace a very great variety of subjects, both ancient and modern ; the principal of which are, " De la Vertu des Payens, Paris, 1G42," 4to ; " Des Ancitnstt Principaux Histoiiens Grccs et Latins, Par. 1G45," l'2rao; " Surla Fa^on deParlern'avoir pas le sens commun. Par. 1646," 12mo; " Petits Traiidsen Forme des Letlres, Par. 1648," 4to; the volume jninted in the text; tlie roya! privilege for the printing of which isdated January 20lh 1643; and "The Prerogative of a Private Life, Lond. 16*8," Svo. — As the sale of the first of the books in the foregoing list was very indifferent, the Author procured a Government order for its suppression, when the whole edition wjis rapidly sold. His collected works were printed at Paris in 1662 in three volumes folio, and several limes since in 12mo and Svo. t viz. his signature, date 1649, and usual motto ; " Omnia explorate, meliora retinete." 4 The Author's Epistle. To my Lord, the Most Eminent Cardinal Mazarin. My Lord, Although I know sufficiently that your goodnesse moves you to accept favourably, even the least productions of wit, which are pre- sented unto you; yet am I so justly diffident of mine own, that it hath suflFered an extraordinary reluctancy before it could resolve to offer unto vou this little Treatise, without the consideration of it's subject, and (as I must say) without the necessity of dedicating the same unto you : for if one cannot but with sacrilege make use elsewhere of that which an holy place did receive from our offerings, nothing but your sacred Purple ought to gather that, which another, who is no more, had deio-ned to receive into his protection. Perhaps, your Eminencie may call to mind to have seen what I now dedicate unto you in the hands of the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resign it now into yours, the most worthy (that I know) to handle all which those have touched ; and If it hath need of any other recommendation to render it acceptable unto vou, it is Philosophv, that, so much in your esteeme, which hath dic- tated it unto me. I am confident, my Lord, that you will not disavow an affection which retaines nothing in it but what is altogether worthy of you. Philosophy is one of the most rich presents that ever man received from Heaven : it is that which elevates us unto the contempla- tion of eternall things, and the science which of all others affords to princes, as well as to private men, the most agreeable divertisement. Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, accept favorablie that which is derived from so noble a plan, and which an heart repleate with zeale to your service (as mine is) offers with so much obligation : this grace I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and shall eternally remaine. My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vayer. 5 LETTERS MARIANNE. WILLIAM COMBE, ESQ. AUTHOR OP The Tour of Dr, S>/ntax in Search of the Picturesque — The Diaboiiad — History of the Thamea — All the Talents — The Devil upon Two Sticks in London— ^c* ^c. ^c. LONDON THOMAS BOYS, LUDGATE HILL. ;o George Evelyn, of Wotton, In the of Surrey, Esq. iere with a Uttle Enchiridion, or Trea- whlch (in pursuite of other bookes, to as my chance to encounter amongst the ause it hancUeth a subject which this y waited upon) doth every where seeme proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose so justly challenge a part in the ma- faires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not jowne, save only the Translation, which urd of every mans censure who under- j inclinations towards you. The matter persons of that eminency, that I dare 5 hardy, as rashly either to condemne or time (as you well know) of mine ap- h I shall prove to frequent but as gen- lies, not often : but lest our little city here shut up this epistle, desiring only •ir. e friend and inviolable servitor, Phileleutheros. 1823. "■ THAT READES. •oad in these licentious times, may hap- ke both the Author and the Translator, do understand that impious imjiostoria = ted and held forth to the people, whilst is thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedomk is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nutli rei servire, nullinecessitati, nullis casibusjortunam incequum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimera of a slate, no where existant save in Utopia. 4 The Author's ^"•' To my Lord, the Most Emine My Lord, Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least prod sented unto you; yet am I so justly diff suffered an extraordinary reluctancy befc you this little Treatise, without the co (as I must say) without the necessity of for If one cannot but with sacrilege make holy place did receive from our ofFerli Purple ought to gather that, which a deigned to receive into his protection. I call to mind to have seen what I now dec the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resig worthy (that I know) to handle all whlc it hath need of any other recommendatlc you, it is Philosophy, that, so much In ^ tated it unto me. I am confident, my L an affection which retaines nothing in it of you. Philosophy is one of the most iosdo.v. received from Heaven : it is that which el ''"•"'^ "> "^ '■ '''"^"' *"*"*'"«'■ tion of eternall things, and the science > princes, as well as to private men, the r Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, ai derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine is) offers with so mu.,.i wi^iig,cn..wii . mis grace I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and shall eternally remaine, My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vayer. ADVERTISEMENT. The contents of the following pages are not of high account or of important interest ; but they display the pure impressions of a tender spirit, sincere in its sympathies and chastened in its affections. The author possessed an intellectual firmness, that gave the impress of strong sense and sub- stantial sentiment to whatever he expressed in composition or in conversation. In earlier life Fortune spread her gayest lures around him ; amd in his latter days pursued him to the verge of the grave with all the bitterness of her malice ; as if to avenge herself of the honourable stedfast- ness with which he had resisted her temptations. But as her smiles could not corrupt, so neither :o George Evelyn, of Wotton, In the of Surrey, Esq. t ere with a httle Enchiridion, or Trea- whlch (in pursuite of other bookes, to as my chance to encounter amongst the ause it handleth a subject which this y waited upon) doth every where seeme proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose y so justly challenge a part in the ma- aires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not fowne, save only the Translation, which tird of every mans censure who under- jinclinatlons towards you. The matter 1 persons of that eminency, that I dare % hardy, as rashly either to condemne or time (as you well know) of mine ap- h I shall prove to frequent but as gen- lies, not often : but lest our little city here shut up this epistle, desiring only .ir. e friend and inviolable servitor, jl Phileleutheros. THAT READES. oad in these licentious times, may hap- ke both the Author and the Translator, ■ 1 do understand that impious impostoria -ted and held forth to the people, whilst is thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedome is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nulli rei servire, nulli necessitati, nullis easibus,fortunam in cequum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimera of a state, no where existant save in Utopia. The Author's ^ To my Lord, the Most Emine My Lord, Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least prod sentedunto you; yet am I so justly difl suffered an extraordinary reluctancv bef you this little Treatise, without the cc (as I must say) without the necessity ol for if one cannot but with sacrilege makt holy place did receive from our offeri Purple ought to gather that, which i deigned to receive into his protection. 1 call to mind to have seen what I now dei the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resi^ worthy (that I know) to handle all whic it hath need of any other recommendatic you, it is Philosophy, that, so much in tated it unto me. I am confident, mv L an affection which retaines nothing in it of you. Philosophy is one of the most received from Heaven : it is that which el * tion of eternal! things, and the science > princes, as well as to private men, the r Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, a. derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine is) offers with so I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and shall eternalb remaine. My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vayer. IV ADVERTISEMENT. could her frowns debase him ; his well-consti- tuted mind rose superior to both. Amidst all the difficulties, under the pressure of which Mr. Combe was called upon to exert the talents with which he was gifted, in no case of depression were the vigorous impulses of his in- tellectual powers retarded in their progress. In every season of sorrow, and in every vicissitude of condition, his fortitude subdued the adverse influence. He grieved for others, but not for himself. He regretted the absence of means to relieve those who sought for succour at his hand, but never lamented the want with selfish refe- rence to his personal privations. At that period of advanced Ufe when the weight of years usually bears down the elasticity of the mind, he retained all that spring of intel- lect wliich characterized the promptitude of his earlier days ; and when infirmities added their load to the pressure of old age, his mental strength still appeared equal to the burthen. As an author, the writings of Mr. Combe ADVERTISEMENT. V evince a genius of no inferior power; and his conversation was always that of a lettered gentle- man. In neither was he ever known to sink be- low the level of character, but in both reserved to himself the dignified integrity of the man. The vices of the age were the objects of his manly scorn ; and the virtues of it were those of his delighted advocacy and liberal support. The former he lashed with a scourge of satire no less judiciously applied than it was flagrantly deserv- ed: the latter he upheld with an encouraging regard ; manifested not only by his own adoption of them, but also by the most disinterested pro- tection whenever they came within the cognizance of his personal intercourse. His pen was enlivening, classical, and moral ; and never raised a blush, save on the cheek of depravity, when it reddened with the conviction of its crime. At an interview which a friend of the Editor enjoyed with Mr. Combe, eight days previous to his decease, he found him with " The Diaholiad" to George Evelyn, of Wotton, In the I of Surrey, Esq. ere with a little Enchiridion, or Trea- I which (in pursuite of other bookes, to fas my chance to encounter amongst the |ause it handleth a subject which this y waited upon) doth every where seeme proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose y so justly challenge a part in the ma- aires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not owne, save only the Translation, which Iird of every mans censure who under- , inclinations towards you. The matter ^ persons of that eminency, that I dare 3 hardy, as rashly either to condemne or time (as you well know) of mine ap- ;h I shall prove to frequent but as gen- lies, not often : but lest our little city here shut up this epistle, desiring only ;ir, e friend and inviolable servitor, Phileleutheros. THAT READES. i-oad in these licentious times, may hap- Jlie both the Author and the Translator, do understand that impious impostoria 'ted and held forth to the people, whilst IS thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedome is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nulli rei servire, nulli necessitati, nullis casibus,fortunam in cequum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimaera of a state, no where existant save in Utopia. The Author' To my Lord, the Most Emine My Lord, ' f Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least proc sented unto you; yet am I so justly di£ suffered an extraordinary reluctancv bef you this little Treatise, without the c( (as I must say) without the necessity o; for If one cannot but with sacrilep-e maki holy place did receive from our offer; Purple ought to gather that, which ; deigned to receive into his protection, call to mind to have seen what I now de the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resi.) worthy (that I know) to handle all whli it hath need of any other recommendatif you, it is Philosophy, that, so much in, tated it unto me. I am confident, my I an affection which retaines nothing in it of you. Philosophy is one of the mosi received from Heaven : it is that which e tlon of eternall things, and the science ^ princes, as well as to private men, the i Your Emlnencie therefore, if it please, a. derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine is) offers with VI. ADVERTISEMENT. lying open before him. " B." said he, laying his hand firmly upon the book, " every word which I have here written is true to the very letter ; the persons alluded to in this poem richly deserved every thing that I have said of them : and of all the thousands of lines which I have sent to the press, not a syllable have I written that could offend the purest mind, or raise an unbecoming thought even in those persons who might have looked for it. When I began my ' Doctor Syntax,' I had the designs of the artist laid before me ; and the task prescribed to me was, to write up to them : those designs might have been applied to a satire upon the national clergy : but if ridicule was the intention, to such a plan I resolved not to lend my pen : I respect the clergy ; and I determined to turn the edge of the weapon which I thought was levelled against them." The faithfulness and ingenuity with which he executed this resolve, will be instantly acknow- ledged by all who have read that work, and have compared the descriptive parts of the letter-press SO I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and shall eternally remalne, My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe ee Vayer. % ADVERTISEMENT. -^A *V^O#'n with the plates which were to suggesftlyftide^^/V It was no easy task to accomplish at any r^^ % and only such an imaginative mind, as Mr. CTV possessed, could have given so successful a turn to it, and have managed it with so much judge- ment and address. It is somewhat extraordinary, that a man who wrote so much and so well as Mr. Combe, should not affix his name to his writings ; but, with the single exception of one of the latter editions of " Dr, Syntax in Search of the Picturesque," they were all published anonymously. Mr. C. left behind him a list of them all; a copy of which he promised to the friend before al- luded to, but which this friend has never had an opportunity of seeing. It is well known, however, that the following, among many others, are the ascertained productions of Mr. C.'s pen. Clifton, a poem— The Follies of the Day, a satirical poem— A Satire on Sir James Wright*— • Mr. C. declared that he wrote this Satire in conse- quence of a political attack which Sir James had made upon the Earl of Chatham. Ito George Evelyn, of Wotton, in the of Surrey, Esq. ere with a little Enchiridion, or Trea- which (in pursuite of other bookes, to as my chance to encounter amongst the ause it hantlleth a subject which this y waited upon) doth every where seeme proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose y so justly challenge a part in the ma- aires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not lowne, save only the Translation, which ird of evei-y mans censure who under- inclinations towards you. The matter persons of that eminency, that I dare hardy, as rashly either to condemne or time (as you well know) of mine ap- :h I shall prove to frequent but as gen- lies, not often : but lest our little city here shut up this epistle, desiring only )ir, e friend and inviolable servitor, Phileleutheros. I THAT READES. oad in these licentious times, may hap- e both the Author and the Translator, \ do understand that impious imposforia "ted and held forth to the people, whilst _ IS thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedome is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nulli rei servire, nulli necessitati, nidlis casibus,fortunam in cequum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimaera of a state, no where existant save in Utopia. The Author's -i To my Lord, the Most Eraine My Lord, » Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least proc, sentedunto you; yet am I so justly dif suffered an extraordinary reluctancy bef you this little Treatise, without the C( (as I must say) without the necessity o* for if one cannot but with sacrilee-e mak. holy place did receive from our offer' Purple ought to gather that, which ' deigned to receive into his protection. call to mind to have seen what I now de' the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resi worthy (that I know) to handle all whi it hath need of any other recommendat you, it is Philosophy, that, so much in, tated it unto me. I am confident, my ll an afipection which retaines nothing in it) of you. Philosophy is one of the mos received from Heaven : it is that which e tion of eternall things, and tlie science princes, as well as to private men, the Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, ; derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine is) offers with I I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and shall eternally remaine, My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vayer. via ADVERTISEMENT. The Diaboliad— Lord Lytt'.eton's Letters— The Devil upon Two Sticks in London — The History of the Thames — All the Talents — Westminster Abbey — History of the Public Schools of England — A Letter to the Dutchess of Devonshire on Fe- male Education — Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of the Picturesque; first, second, and third parts — The Dance of Death — The Dance of Life — Johnny Quae Genus — &c. &c. &c. In so brief a notice as this of the character of a man whose claims on public consideration were free from all ambiguous pretext, the writer is compelled to confine himself to a few genuine traits of disposition and conduct, which can only trace the outline of the portrait. At no time did Mr. C. allow himself to indulge in the parade of factitious sentiment ; and when the sure presage of approaching death convinced him, that in a few days more he would have done with this life, the decision with which he always spake, seemed then to gather peculiar force ; and the kind-hearted- ness of his concern for others was as prompt as ever. ADVERTISEMENT. IX It was in one of those hours in which decaying nature marks the measure of human existence, that the friend beforementioned found him evi- dently labouring under severe pain, but making strong efforts to restrain the expression of it : conscious, however, that he had not succeeded to the extent of his wish, he confessed the inequality of the contest : " but," said he, " I conceal my real state from those around me, and I request you to keep my secret ; if they knew what I suf- fered they would be afflicted; and whatever I may endure, I would not give pain to others." Although he was then upwards of eighty, his energies did not forsake him. In his last illness his sufferings were severe, yet he was never heard to give way to complaint; not a single exclama- tion at any time escaped him that could indicate impatience or alarm ; and the philosophy of his heart countervailed the anguish of his frame, so as to leave him at all times master of himself. To him might well be applied that fine observa- tion of Tully — " When the wounded are carried to George Evelyn, of Wotton, in the of Surrey, Esq. lere with a little Endbiridion, or Trea- which (in pursuite of other bookes, to uas my chance to encounter amongst the :ause it handleth a subject which this ly waited upon) doth every where seeme ] proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose ■y so justly challenge a part in the ma- .-"aires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not owne, save only the Translation, which ard of every mans censure who under- inclinations towards you. The matter ' persons of that eminency, that I dare o hardy, as rashly either to condemne or time (as you well know) of mine ap- :h I shall prove to frequent but as gen- lies, not often : but lest our little city here shut up this epistle, desiring only )ir, e friend and inviolable servitor, j Phileeeutheros. \ THAT READES. •oad In these licentious times, may hap- ^ke both the Author and the Translator, do understand that impious impostoria ited and held forth to the people, whilst . is thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedome is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nuili rei servire, nulli necessitati, nullis casibus,fortunam in cBquum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimaera of a state, no where exlstant save in Utopia. The Author's ^ To my Lord, the Most Emine My Lord, Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least pro sented unto you ; yet am I so justly di£J suffered an extraordinary reluctancy be you this little Treatise, without the c (as I must say) without the necessity o for if one cannot but with sacrilege mak» holy place did receive from our offer Purple ought to gather that, which deigned to receive into his protection, j call to mind to have seen what I now de' the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resi worthy (that I know) to handle all wh it hath need of any other recommendat you, it is Philosophy, that, so much in tated it unto me. I am confident, my an affection which retaines nothing in it' of you. Philosophy is one of the mos received from Heaven : it is that which t tion of eternall things, and the science) princes, as well as to private men, the Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, ! derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine Is; offers with iS I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and^^U eternally remaine. My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vaver. X ADVEKTISEMENT. off the field, the raw soldier uses the most mean and indecent exclamations; buttlie old weather- beaten veteran, made bold by his wounds, only calls for the surgeon to bind them up * !" The application of this passage will not perhaps appear less apposite, by the relation of the follow- ing remark which he made to his medical attend- ant on the day before that on which he died — " Sir, it is all over ! you can do nothing for me, but you may smooth the passage." He was not so much of a Stoic as to deny the existence of pain , but he possessed sufficient of the Christian to resist its desponding and mistrustful influence — and the power of this fortitude, with its associates, greatness of spirit, constancy, pa- tience, and contempt of human affairs, enabled him to subdue it. Five days previous to his death, his friend again visited him. He was then reclining upon his bed ; but instantly, on hearing his voice, he • Tu>c. Dis. liU. ■:. ADVEETISEMENT. XI exclaimed, in an extraordinary firmness of tone, " Is that B ? tell him I will be with him : I will see him directly." Shortly after, he entered the room, led by the daughter of the person whose lodgings he occupied. " Here comes Belisarius," he cried, " lame and blind !" Then sitting down in his chair, and recollecting himself, he said, " No, not blind, not blind, but lame and old enough." — My dear B , how are you?" The interview led to a long and interesting con- versation, which continued for several hours, on various subjects, in the discussion of which he gave the strongest proof, that the soundness of his mind still triumphed over the decay of his body. In the heaviest hours of his painful endurance, the estimable female, to whom these Letters are addressed, ministered to his comfort, and cheered his heart by her unwearied attentions ; which never failed to restore him to complacency, if at any time a transient gloom chanced to gather , to George Eveeyn, of Wotton, In the y of Surrey, Esq. here with a little Enchiridion, or Trea- ; which (in pursuite of other bookes, to was my chance to encounter amongst the ecause it handleth a subject which this iny waited upon) doth every where seeme st proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose ity so justly challenge a part in the ma- iffaires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not 2 owne, save only the Translation, which zard of evei'y mans censure who under- d inclinations towards you. The matter ly persons of that eminency, that I dare so hardy, as rashly either to condemne or t time (as you well know) of mine ap- ich I shall prove to frequent but as gen- ^laies, not often : but lest our little city 11 here shut up this epistle, desiring only Sir, ate friend and inviolable servitor, Phileleutheros. !H THAT READES. broad in these licentious times, may hap- ake both the Author and the Translator, i' do understand that Impious impostoria blted and held forth to the people, whilst it is thrown into the hands of a few private persons. By Freedomk is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nulli rei servire, nulli necessitati, nullis casibus,fortunam in cequum deducere. Sec. not that Platonlque chimaera of a state, no where exlstant save In Utopia. The Author's /^ . To my Lord, the Most Eraine My Lord, Although I know sufficiently that accept favourably, even the least nroc sentedunto you; yet am I so justly dl£ suffered an extraordinary reluctancy bef you this little Treatise, without the c (as I must say) without the necessity o for if one cannot but with sacrile£:e mak holy place did receive from our offer Purple ought to gather that, which deigned to receive into his protection, call to mind to have seen what I now df'' the great Cardinal de Richelieu : I resi worthy (that I know) to handle all whiu'^ it hath need of any other recommendatil t you, it is Philosophy, that, so much in tated it unto me. I am confident, my 1 an affection which retaines nothing in it of you. Philosophy is one of the mos received from Heaven : it is that which t tion of eternal! things, and the science ! princes, as well as to private men, the Your Eminencie therefore, if it please, ; derived from so noble a plan, and which to your service (as mine is) offers with l>^^ I promise to myself out of your ordinarie goodnesse, and sh^lTteTnall^ remaine, My Lord, Your most humble and most obedient servant, De la Mothe le Vayer. Xll ADVERTISEMENT. round his thoughts. " She was unto him as a daughter ;" and when the world seemed to have deserted liim, and life was fast receding to its lowest ebb, he confessed and rejoiced in the cherishing support of her truly filial ministrations. At his death, his spirit fled unresisted in its departure by the slightest struggle of mortal agony; not a groan, not even a sigh, njarked the moment of dissolution ; and, in the expressive language of scripture, he fell asleep! The general assent of public judgement has affixed the legitimate stamp of original talent to the writings of Mr. Combe, both in prose and verse, and these have amply established his re- putation. The present little volume is submitted to the readers of his works, as containing a few of those pearls in which was set the gem of an honest heart. This heart is now fast mouldering into dust within an unsculptured grave ; but never did the marble legends of the titled dead record a worthier name than that with which vir- ADVERTISEMENT. XUl tue consecrates the undistinguished clay of the departed Combe. The subsequent epitaph, written by himself* in all the truth of impartial delineation, was found among his papers. We cannot but admit that there is, at all times, something peculiarly im- pressive in such mortuary autographs of men of genius ; who, after having throughout their lives employed their pens to delight and improve the world, thus anticipate their own departure out of it, by the modest appropriation of a few lines to themselves, to serve as the simple memorial of their return to their kindred earth. But who that has felt the enlivening influence of Combe's jo- cund muse, or learned a moral from her more serious page, will read, without emotions of deep regret, the foreboding sentence which he attached to the paper on which his epitaph was found written ? more especially when it is known, that the doubts so expressed have unhappily proved Vide Letter 43. , to George Evelyn, of Wotton, In the ;y of Surrey, Esq. I here with a little Enchiridion, or Trea- ', ; which (in pursuite of other bookes, to was my chance to encounter amongst the lecause it haniUeth a subject which this :iny waited upon) doth every where seeme )st proper to nuncupate it unto you, whose rity so justly challenge a part in the ma- affaires of this kingdome. Sir, here is not e owne, save only the Translation, which azard of every mans censure who under- )d inclinations towards you. The matter by persons of that eminency, that I dare so hardy, as rashly either to condemne or it time (as you well know) of mine ap- lich I shall prove to frequent but as gen- plaies, not often : but lest our little city ill here shut up this epistle, desiring only , Sir, late friend and inviolable servitor, Phileleittheros. M THAT READES. ibroad in these licentious times, may hap- 5take both the Author and the Translator, CY do understand that impious impostoria nbited and held forth to the people, whilst it is thrown into the hands of a few private persons By Freedome is here intended that which the Philosopher teacheth us: Nulli rei servire, mdlinecessitati, nullis casihus,fortunam in cequum deducere, &c. not that Platonique chimera of a state, no where existant save in Utopia. The Author's ^ XIV To my Lord, the Most Emine My Lord, Although I know sufficiently thatl accept favourably, even the least pro sented unto you ; yet am I so justly difl suffered an extraordinary reluctancy be you this little Treatise, without the c (as I must say) without the necessity o for if one cannot but with sacrilege mak holy place did receive from our offerl Purple ought to gather that, which I deigned to receive into his protection, call to mind to have seen what I now 1- G, de leg. 11 very same instant that he condemned them to so miserable a servi- tude. Notwithstanding, whether it were so or not, their condition is contrary to that antient privilege of nature, whereof we have newly spoken : and it is very likely it was this which obliged the first Indian Philosophers, of whom Diodorus speaks*, to prohibit, by a law expresse, the use of servants. I know very well, that St. Augustine maketh sinne to be the authour of this kind of servitude -f- : observing that there was no such thing in the world before the crime of Cham, what time he derided his father ;{;, who threw so great a malediction upon all his Posterity. But since warres and discords have no other source than only sin it selfe, there is nothing in the Latine Originall (of which we speak) which doth not very well accommodate with the text in Genesis ; we are onely to observe, that Christianity hath extirpated it out of most places, where the corporall servitude hath been well knowne, retaining very few slaves within all her extent, besides those, whom the enor- mity of their crimes have rendered such. Thus hath corporall liberty been re-established, which consists in being absolute master of ones proper person, as seeing that the most miserable amongst us may in some sort attribute unto himseU, if their misfortunes have not engaged them into the hands of Infidels. The liberty of the mind consists in the understanding, or in the will: if these two faculties do not jointly possesse it, according as the most part of Scholastiques affirme. Tis by her, that the demi-gods of antiquity have vaunted themselves of being free, even in the midst of irons and chaines ; fortune having no dominion over the operations of our soules ; and all the puissances of the earth find themselves too impo- tent to make it suffer the least violence. For although it appeares tliat this liberty consisteth in being or not being able to apply these two parts of the spirit indifferently upon all things ; yet that is not absolutely true : for certaine it is, that our understanding cannot always impedite itselfe, that it should not acquiesce at the conclusion of a demonstrative syllogisme, having before comprehended the first and second proposi- tions. Our volunty cannot (after some sort) embrace the evill, consi- * 2 Hist. f 19 de Civit. Dei.c. 15. t Gen. c. 9. 12 dering it as evill, but doth it alwayes when it happens to be masked under some appearance of good. And yet for all this, reason obligeth us to maintaine that our spirit doth no way hinder us, but that we may pos- sesse a compleat and intire freedom ; because, should these instances import in them any exception, this impious absurdity would ensue, that God himselfe should not be perfectly free, who knowes and loves him- selfe, necessarily, and by the universal consent of all divines. Further- more, this is a maxime stated in philosophy, that the naturall powers never exceed the limits of their formall object, always cohibiting them- selves within those bounds which God hath prescribed unto them. Now we must know that our intellect hath no other object certaine, nor formal], than the conception of that which is true. From whence it comes to passe, that they named verity the sweet food and refection of our soule : nor hath our will any other certaine and fixed butt, than to unite itselfe with that vvbich is good, naturally abandoning whatsoever is repugnant unto it. It follows then (without reversing the order of nature) that our spirit cannot otherwise act than as we have already spoken ; and which indeed doth no way ruine its liberty, as by a morall reason we shall suddenly explicate, according to which we shall find, that to serve God is to reigne, and to obey the just laws of nature, passes for a species and kind of liberty. Certainly, we doe not imagine, that a bird should be lesse free to fly where he listeth, for not having power to doe it under the waters ; nor that a terrestriall animall should be lesse free (in order to his walking up and down, according to his fancv,) because he cannot mount up into the Heavens, supposing him capable of a desire so irregular. The same reason ought we to frame touching our spirituall freedome, w'^ is wholly uninterested, seeing the will cannot be joyned to evill, nor the intellect be satisfied with that which is false, if neither of these two parts be deluded by tlve appearance of good and true, for as much as it is wholly repugnant to their nature. These exceptions decided, it is very evident, that humane liberty cannot consist in any other thing than the independency of our actions, as well those of the body as those of the mind ; since we ougbt not to render an accompt to any but unto God and our owne selves, that is to say, to this eternall reason, from which we all derive a beam of 13 illumination at the very instant of our production into this world ; it was therefore very necessary to know (that so we might the better be able to examine that which followes) whether there can be any one who can vaunt himselfe of being truly free. CHAP. III. THAT THERE IS NONE CAN TRULY AFFIRME HIMSELFE TO BE FREE. We cannot deny but that liberty is one of the most precious and agreeable things of life, and therefore it is that they have affirmed that all the riches of the earth are not equivalent to its true estimate, should it be exposed to sale ; and that the Pythagoreans detested servitude, \jwn bene pro toto lihertas venditioi' auro]^ by this myste- rious precept (to wit) that none should weare a ring, lest perhaps, it might presse, or seeme to constraine the finger ; passing it for a rule indubitable, that no man should submit himselfe unto any other so longe as he had [alterius non sit qui suus esse potest^ opportunity to depend solely of himselfe. The Philosophers ground themselves likewise upon the value and sweetnesse of this liberty, when they affirme that the soule of a lover is better pleased, and is in effect more in the object where she loves, then where she informes and animates ; for that there is nothing besides meere necessity which retains her in this last habitation, being altogether inveighed by inclination, and a certain volun- tary movement, towards the person where she hath placed her affections. But if Liberty deserve that we thus esteeme of her, is it not a thing most strange, that we find so few men who are free ? or (to say better} that the whole universe should be so desperately plunged in Servitude, that (to take it well) there is no difference between us who beleeve ourselves exempted from it, and the very slaves themselves, than according to the proportion of more and lesse } For let us now be but as attentive here as indeed the subject doth justly merit, and diligently weigh his morall point but as equitably as philosophy 14 requireth we should doe, in all that which concernes her. Where shall we find any -kind of life, which doth not assubject* those that are addicted unto it ? what profession shall we find, which hath not her chains and tyes whereby she doth even captivate those whom she Imploys ? One would think that the most vile estate of life were the most exposed to the miseries of servitude ; because there she appeares as it were all naked and with a very little qualification : should we yet farther examine other qualities of life, and but a little lift up the decelptfull maske which disguises them, we shall then easily discerne, that there were indeed no condition of life whatsoever which did not oblige us to so much the greater subjection by how much the more it is elevated above others, and which hath not its fetters in this, more rude and full of affliction, by how much the more precious they appear. The manacles of iVstyages were not therefore the lesse weighty, and paynable, for being composed of gold or silver : Reniego de gi'illos aunque scan de oro, sayes the Spanish proverb : and in effect, there is no kind of constraint more insupportable then that which attends upon great authorities, and which is found mixed as it were with the most absolute power, by reason of the opposition of contraries, which renders their qualities the more active. Thence It Is, that they very properly call dignities charges, their weight augmenting with the prize of their exaltation ; and may be said to be (admit them more estimable then indeed they are, to examine them rlglitly,} but honorable captivities. Let Monarchs attribute to themselves, whilst they please, the power of disposing, according to their owne fantasle, the lives and goods of their subjects : the crowne is a fillet which presses the temples so hard, that an antient did not believe any man ought to take It -up from the ground, if he rightly understand it : And the reclprocall obligation of Kings to their people is so stralte, that in good philosophy, if the Republifjue appertains to Caesar, Ctcsar belongs much more to the Republique. [cave hie ne male capias.^ Let * An old English verb, derived of the French assoubjectir, and preserved in Cotgrave's Eng. Diet, which might suggest to Shakspeare the kindred word assithjugatc given by Dr. Johnson j it signifies to bring under, or to subdue : its use is of extreme rarity. 15 us therefore consider a little how many there are who precipitate them- selves, without any obligation thereunto, into a voluntary servitude. Infinite is the number of those who sell their liberty to acquire oftentimes so inconsiderable a matter, that they would not afterwards have purchased it with their very counters. The thirst after a slight reward, or some other triviall favour, and for which we should be sorry that we had given the least parts of our goods, causes us absolutely to renounce all our own wills to follow that of others. Nay, we are so stupid, says Seneca *, that it should seeme we doe not perceive how, in so doing, there remains nothing more sordid and vile than ourselves, even by our own confession ; seeing we value ourselves of lesse esteeme than our monyes, and the rest of that which we possesse. But beyond all these servitudes which perpetually hold us under sub- jection from without, there are likewise servitudes interiour, from which happily there is no man living can affirme himselfe to be truly exempt. Who is he that is not a slave to his passions ? and where is the man that doth not at some time or other, experience the tyranny of those rude masters of whom Diogenes reproached Alexander ? One serves loosely to his Ambition, another is importuned with Avarice ; this man dresses altars to Fortune, that permits Gluttony to domineer over him ; and there is who suffers himselfe to be transported by the rage and violence of Love. Certainly there is no servitude so difficult as that which we are constrained to endure under such merciless tyrants ; nor is there any man who can boast of being free whilst he shall be compelled to live under their domination. What if we should here introduce the arguments of the Stoicks, who prove that vice is such an enemy to freedom, that they are two things altogether incompatible : it will then be easy to discover how far we are deviated from this liberty, seeing the most perfect amongst us is so deeply engaged into it. There is not a man (say they -j-) who deserves to be reputed free but he only that lives according to his own pleasure. Now it is very certain that no man would live in vice, or that, at the least, desires that the world should take notice of him for a vicious person, it being a thing the most unfor- * Epist.42. t Arr.1.2, c. 1, & 26,and 1. 4, c. 1. 16 tunate and shameful in the world. It followes then, that in good reason we ought not to call any man free, but such only as have utterly aban- doned vice, and then we shall easily perceive whether there be any who of rio-ht may attribute to themselves the quality of free men. Epicte- tus ver)' pleasantly derided the Nicopolitans, who used to swear by the fortune of Csesar, that they were in full possession of their liberty ; seeino- the very naked tearme of their oath did evidently demonstrate that they acknowledged the absolute power of the Emperor. But there is a great deal more reason to laugh at those who would passe for the most free of the world, because they do indififerently prosecute and obey their depraved appetites, and for that they deny nothing, even not to one of their affections ; it being from thence whence one may most evidently derive an absolute argument of their miserable slavery : there being no servitude more base and dangerous than that wherein vice doth ingage us. Therefore be it that we discourse of the liberty of the body, perhaps those w ho are in chalnes are not yet the most abject : or regard we the freedom of the mind, there is no person which doth not experience some species and kind of constraint. Is there any man that can deny but that all such as are found living in an erroneous be- leefe, and without the light of our true religion, be not as so many captivated soules, that are daily forced to admit of false principles, or beleeve a thousand absurdities ? But if the humane liberty be a com- position of those of the body and of the mind together, there will not be found a man who ought to esteem himselfe free, which doth not equally possesse both the one and the other. Thus it is theyjus- tifie by so many considerations, that there is likely no man who can truly affirme himselfe to be free. And because if this proposition re- ceived the least exception, it cannot otherwise proceed than from those who professe to live within a Liberty Philosophique, Let us there- fore endeavour to know what it is. 17 CHAR IV. OF THE LIBERTY PHILOSOPHIQUE. Although it appears by our precedent discourse, that one might well affirme of all men, as heretofore of the Romans, to wit, that they are as so many animals borne to servitude ; some Philosophers them- selves having taken their infant swathe-bonds for certaine presages of the captivity wherein we are to live the rest of our dayes ; yet there were some amongst them who attributed unto themselves a prerogative, like so many Spartans, solely to possesse an entire and absolute liberty. It is in order to this opinion, that Philo the Jew hath composed a treatise expressly to shew that every honest and vertuous man is undoubtedly free. And this it was which caused the Stoicks to affirme, that besides the Sage there was none who was truely a King ; as indeed, according to their mode, he was the onely man that might, with reason, be called rich, faire, happy, loyall, and magnanimous : the rest of men not retain- ing for their share, other than shadows and deceivable appearances of all these attributes ; this wise man living in all so far above other men, that he might justly glory in being equall to the greatest of the Gods. In that Dion was nothing inferiour to him, according to the paradox of Chrysippus*. Nay, and when it so pleased these proud Philosophers, they have even had the boldnesse to assert, that their wise man was more considerable here than Jove himselfe, because Jupiter was neither free nor happy, but by the excellence and priviledge of his nature ; whereas their Sage (such as they imagined him to be) enjoyed his liberty, as well as his felicity, by the vertue of his mind, and might have yet bin otherwise than he was, had he not elevated himselfe to a degree so eminent. Seneca, as a Stoicke, hath in many places repeated this maxime ; adding that Jupiter himselfe never exceeded his wise man, but in this sole poynt, to wit, that the first was free and happy by a longer duration of time than the other ; which thing, says he, renders * Plutar. des com. cone, contre les Stoiq. D 18 it not a whit the more perfection, seeing, on the contrary, it is always to be esteemed a great artifice, to comprehend much in a narrow compasse. Now to the .end it should not be imagined that it was only the Stoickes which had declared themselves with so much presumption touching the Philosophers liberty, you may perceive in lamblicus * who has written the life of Pythagoras, how he and his disciples persuaded them- selves that they were as so many Gods upon earth, where they had right to exercise an absolute empire over the rest of mankind ; and therefore it is well known they have affected the soveraigne command in all places, where they have been able to establish themselves. And that they might execute this power with the more feedome, they held by tradition, and by a cabal confirmed amongst them, that all such as were not admitted, or, according as they then used to speak, initiated into their mysteries, ought to be respected and used as meer beasts ; to which purpose thev had so frequently in their mouths that verse of Homer, where Agamemnon is called Pastor of the people ; to intimate (according to their words) that they ought to treate them like the rest of animals ; and that he which commanded them, might dispose of them as best him seemed good. In fine, we gather both from the Greek and Roman histories, that to speake of Philosophers in general, they would live so freely, and so farr extend the liberty of their profes- sion, that Athens, the most free city of all Greece, could not endure them; and that the Republique of Rome was oftentimes constrained to banish them out of her territories. For I will say nothing of the La- cedemonians, nor of K. Antiochus and Lisimachus, who entertained them not a whit more favourably ; because one may perhaps presuppose, that the martial humour of the first, and the small inclination which these princes had to the sciences, imported them (without any other consideration) to despise and neglect men of a life purely contemplative. The history of those who retired themselves into Persia, under the reign of Cosroes, is very remarkable to this purpose : behold what I recollect from thence. » C.35, de vitaPyth. 19 In the time of Justinian, the greatest Philosophers within all the ex- tent of his dominions, highly disgusted the corrupt manners of their age ; but especially, as Agathias observes *, the opinions at that time received in the Roman empire touching the divinity. To the end they might be more at liberty, and have nothing which might importune them in their fashion of living, and especially in point of their religion, they tooke their refuge into Persia. A very short time after made them acknowledge how much they had mistaken themselves; finding there nei- ther that innocence of life, nor that repose which they so fully expected to meet withal. And although Cosroes received them with all possible humanity and courtesle, endeavouring by all means to retain them, yet they esteemed it far the greatest favour he could doe them, that he would grant them licence to returne back again to the place from whence they were fled. Neverthelesse (according as this historian observes), their journey was not altogether inutlU ; for Cosroes calling them to mind a little after their departure, in a treaty of peace which he contracted with the Romans, stipulated by expresse article (^of which he had very great care) that none of those Philosophers should in the least manner be violated nor constrained to abjure the opinions unto which they adhered and embraced as the best. This story puts me in mind of the inso- lent demand which once a most impious Portuguese made at Lyons unto Henry the Third : to wit, that it might be permitted him not to adore any other divinltle in his dominions, save that only of the Sun ; for without doubt there may be both an excesse, and a sin too, in desiring a liberty so extreamly unconcern'd, as that should nei- ther submit itselfe to the lawes of Heaven, nor to those of Reason. The transcendent Indulgence of so great a freedome (^to use Plato's owne expression -j-), is the source and fountaine of an extreame servi- tude ; because it renders us slaves unto our owne selves and proper pas- sions ; and the greatest libertine of all the Philosophers, Epicurus himself, hath acknowledged, that to return truely to oneself, and be perfectly free, a man should submit to the ordinances of Philosophy. And In truth, we learn out of a much better passage ^, that wheresoever * Lib. 2 Hist. t 8 de Rep. & ibi. Fie. + Paiilus 2, ad Cor. c. 3. v. ] J. 20 the spirit of God is found, there it is where we enjoy an absolute free- dome indeed. But that's to be understood of a filiall liberty, which alwayes goeth accompanyed with an extreame reverence and respect, and such as is known by its opposition unto that servile fear, which never quits nor forsakes the ungodly. For we know in another place, from a text which was dictated by the selfe same spirit of God *, that there remaines onely man alone, whom vanity hath so farr deprived of judgment, that he glories of being borne so free, as that he imagines he hath a right to live according to his owne fancy; and who beleeves that it were an offer of violence towards his person to prescribe him Lawes or make him submit unto any soveraigne whatsoever. Thereupon he is compared to those young foales which endeavour to shake off their yoake, not having as yet been accustomed unto it : and his brutality is admirably well represented to us by that of the wild Asse, whom we behold running through the desarts without bit or bridle. And albeit we receive from Seneca all these lofty sayings of the Stolques which we have already produced ; yet hath he in a thousand places confessed that there was no true Liberty which did not acknowledge the empire of Reason. If thou wouldest submit all things unto thy selfe, saithe he in one of his Epistles -f-, make it thy profession to obey this Daughter of Heaven : thou shult command all the rest, if thou render thy selfe plyable to her injunctions. And in another place he adds J, that the most difficult of all other servitudes Is that which subjects us to our owne selves, and makes us to render obedience to all our depraved appetites : for that (as so many mercllesse tyrants) they persecute us night and day, without permitting us the fruition of the least repose ; so that there is no man can pretend to liberty, unlesse he do first absent hlmselfe from a subjection so cruell and Insupportable. And in his Treatise of an Happy Life, wherein he adviseth us that we should never take any thing in ill part, nor with the least alteration of spirit, of all that which it pleases God or Nature to ordayne ; he enters into this goodly consideration, that we are all of us in this world as in an estate mo- narchlcall, where we ought to make it our glory to obey our Sove- * Job, c. xi. V. 19. t Ep. 57. J Praef. ad 1. Nat. Qu. 21 reign's commands ; and beleeve, that the most essential part of all our freedome consists, in willing that which is the good pleasure of his divine Majesty. And seeing the liberty which the same Philosopher uses, to passe sometimes out of one extreme into another, makes him affirme elsewhere, that Philosophy is so free, she neither feares the Gods nor Men *, let us expound a little those bold words, as we have already done those of the Apostle, and assure ourselves that Seneca hath not condemned but the base and criminall feare which is ever inseparable from vice, and so, by consequent, mortall enemy to those who make it their profession to love wisdome, and follow vertue. Having thus regulated what appertains to the Philosophique Liberty, taking it for resolved that she never ought to extend her selfe to those things which are any way repugnant to religion, policy, and good man- ners ; it remaines that we consider whether it be very likely there should any men be, who in all the rest doe enjoy a true Philosopliique Liberty, and who (^not having more disregular passions} despise honours, plea- sures, riches, and whatsoever other goods are not acquired or conserved but by the losse of our liberty. For if the saying of one of the Antonlnes be true '}-, that neither philosophy nor the empire could ever have the power to take away our affections, we ought not then adhere to the affir- mative opinion, which imports nothing more in this argument, than specious and lofty swelling words, more proper to puffe and swell us up unto vanity (on the subject whereon we treate) than afford us the least veritable and solid satisfaction of mind. I know very well that the philo- sopbique contemplations imprint a certalne audacity and confidence in the soule ; which hinders us from being afraid of any thing, making us despise and undervalue the greatest part of those things that are most esteemed in the world. Aristlppus did hereupon vaunt himselfe that he had gathered this excellent fruit from philosophy, to be able to speake with resolution and confidence, without apprehension of any person what- soever. Aristotle pronounced before Alexander, that it was not lesse law- full to men, who comprehended thoughts worthy and veritable, such as we might have of things divine, to possesse an heart elevated and a courage * Ep. 17. & 29. t Jul. Capitol, in Ant. Pio. 22 invincible, than to those who swayed the government of the Avhole universe, and commanded the most absolutely here on earth. Diogenes is represented to us (in the conference which he had with this great monarch) discoursing with him as with his inferiour. Being once a slave, he requested his master who was to sell him (unto him that offered most) to demand, whether in stead of a servant any body had need of a master ; boasting himselfe to be no more a captive at that time than an enchained lion, who alwayes makes his keepers more afraid of him than he apprehendeth his keepers. For all this it is pos- sible that we may on tlie one side be free, and yet in slavery on the other. Thus one thinkes himselfe free from ambition who is basely enthrall'd to the passion of Love or Avarice : and the importance is, to find out whether our humanity be capable to enjoy, by the virtue of philosophy, a liberty so free and independent as they are used ordi- narily to decipher us out in the Schooies. But to speake soberly con- cerning this matter ; it appeai'es this free man, which shee represents us under the name of Sage, to be rather an idea of that which may be the scope of our desires than any thing in good earnest; our imagina- tion for the most part formes unto her selfe a subject which she takes pleasure to embellish with such an equipage of rare qualities, to render it accomplished, that its beyond the ordinary power of Nature to ren- der it a true existence. And there is much reason to beleeve, that this wise man, or this free person (of whom the Philosophers speake), is not lesse difficult to find out than the orator of Cicero, the architect of Vitruvius, the Pyramis of the Egyptians, and the KaXof ^' «g/«5o?* of the Grecians. Notwithstanding all this, I beleeve verily, that there are some men to be found in all ages who extremely approach this merite ; and I am perswaded that we have knowne some, even in these our times, although they make it for the most part their cheifest care to keep themselves hidden, and incognito ; yea, methinkes there have bin some beames, which have even darted forth to us, of certaine vertues so transcendent, that in mine opinion they might well passe for perfect copyes finished from those originals which the ages * Herod. 1. ^. 23 past would have presented unto us. But these are productions of Nature so rare, that we may well number them amongst the most pro- digious and stnpendlous miracles ; or (^to say better) these are effects so particular of the Divine munificence (whensoever it j)leaseth him to communicate himselfe here beneath), that there is farre more reason to adore the bounty of God, than to Imagine it the least merite of the Creature. In effect, what is more strange than these great geniuses, who, being perfectly acquainted with the necessitudes of our life (which we may haply reduce to a very few), equally despise goods, honours, and whatsoever elevates the Empire of Fortune ? The rest of men are her slaves, and consecrate altars unto her as unto some great Divinity. These are they who make it their glory to provoke her, and oppose their courage against her puissances. Doubtlesse, behold the most strange and most considerable spectacle that may possibly be : to see the powers, the independency, the assurance of a God (as the Heathen speaks)*, united to the imbecility and frailtv of our humane nature. So it is, that if there be found any entire and absolute liberty amongst us, doubt- Q lesse it is residing in these heroique soules, of whom I will render you •OCJ here two or three of antiquity for examples, expressly abstaining to P" speake of so many holy personages wherewith Christianity doth dayly ^ furnish us, because in this Chapter we pretend to consider this philoso- phique only which appeared in the world a great while before it could -^ be irradiated by the beams of the Gospell. The Christian Schoole retaynes its reasons and its discourse apart. There we learn, that the greatest glory of our intellect is not to know, but to beleeve, as the glory of our will is not to command, but to obey. As touching Philo- sophy, she is not always so austere ; for oftentimes she descends to the satisfaction of an Infidel, as well as of a true beleever. Epictetus shall be the first whom I will produce, to show that manv of those whom we treat, have pretended to be free men, even amidst chaynes : and to possess this Independency of spirit, which trucly no fetters are able to captivate ; but withall, making only a part of this humane liberty, according to our precedent considerations. This great * Ecce res magna habere imbecilitatem honiinis, securitatem Dei. Sen. Epist. 54. 24 mail was a Stoicke, as you may perceive by his Enchiridion or Manuell, compiled by Arrian his disciple, being a summary of the morality which those of their sect made profession of. His most memorable dis- courses have been communicated unto us by the same Arrian, who hath composed foure bookes of them, and so couched them in writing, as an excellent Painter uses to draw his lineaments, to represent us the figure of a Soule, by so much the more free and heightened as his adverse fortune endeavoured (it should seeme) to suppresse it. This was a ball which rebounded towards Heaven, proportlonably to the force whereby it was cast against the earth. In effect, although he saw himselfe reduced to the hard condition of servitude, and to be one of the slaves of Epaphroditus, Captalne of Nero's guards, yet he alwayes aj)peared incomparably more free than his master. One day that Epa- phroditus gave him a certaine rude blow on the leg, Epictetus told him, dryly, that he should have a care he did not breake it ; this un- mercifull hangman having at that instant redoubled the stroake with such violence as he brake the bone, Epictetus added (with a smile w orthy of all ages to be admired), Did not I tell vou, that you'ld foole and breake my leg ? 1 know well that Origen has censured the impiety of Celsus * for daring to prefer the above named Epictetus unto Jesus Christ ; but this does not hinder that the vertue of the first should not deserve to be very much esteemed, althougb, truly, there be no proportion of God to us, and of the Creature to the Creator. Let us also observe that S' Augustine was not restrained by this con- sideration, to hope, or (at the least) ardently to desire that God had mercy upon Epictetus soul, being not able to leave off admiring the extraordinary mortification of his senses: and I have scene in the worke of a Doctor of the Ambrosian CoUedg of Milan, that Saint Carlo Borhomeo heard no lecture which more pleased him than those which discoursed of this philosopher collected by Arrian. It is very certain, that the generosity and liberty of the soule, which Epictetus made alwayes to appeare, notwithstanding his corporall servitude, and of which he hath left us so many important precepts in writing, acquired * L. 7. contra Celsum. 25 him such a repute, that the very lamp of earth wherewithal! he used to Illuminate his lucubrations, was sold for three thousand drachmas after his decease ; at so high a value was all which appertained to him ^^im^^' '' '"^y ^^^^^ ^^ *^'^' ^'^^*^ ^^^ the constancy, of tlie superior part, there was never any person leforeEpictetus, Rome had scene another excellent Demetrius : this Is he of whom Seneca speakes these his opinion, Nature had produced him to shew the that a greater genius might protect hlmselfe from e multitude : although he were not able to redresse Iwayes It Is. And because he had acquired a very at open profession which he made of Phiiosophlque • Calligula would have alwayes had him about his a thing verle easie to have gained him by a Demetrius, laughing at the thoughts of this ;• with disdalne that which was proffered him : fs he) would tempt me ; if he haue any deslgne eeds not trouble himself twice, let him at once f , and then see if the price of an Empire were iberty. Certainly, bold termes w''' well deserve eca, and consecrated by him even unto Eternity recommendation which he hath bestowed upon , 1 doe not beleeve that it's possible to produce presse to make us comprehend with what gene- e soule doth undervalue treasures, honours, and others have in esteeme, to preserve themselves if liberty. One action of Socrates is so patt for this purpose, that I should esteeme it crlminall not to allege it, albeit bee were not the common father of Philosophers, and he, out of whose bralne (as out of some high mountaine) all their different sects are derived, like so many L. 7, de benef. c. 8. et 11. t Toto illi fui experieudus Imperio. £ 24 mail was a Stoicke, as you may perceive by his Enchiridion or Maimell, compiled by Arrlan his disciple, being a summary of the morality which those of their sect made profession of. His most memorable dis- courses have been communicated unto us by the same Arrian, who hatb composed foure bookes of them, and so couched th excellent Painter uses to draw his lineaments, to a of a Soule, by so much the more free and heig fortune endeavoured (it should seeme) to supp ball which rebounded towards Heaven, propor whereby It was cast against the earth. In effq himselfe reduced to the hard condition of servitudj slaves of Epaphroditus, Captaine of Nero's guj appeared incomparably more free than his master! phrodltus gave him a certaine rude blow on th| him, dryly, that he should have a care he did net mercifull hangman having at that instant redoJ such violence as he brake the bone, Eplctetus \ uorthy of all ages to be admired), Did not I telli and breake my leg? 1 know well that Origen ha? of Celsus * for daring to prefer the above nz Jesus Christ ; but this does not hinder that tl should not deserve to be very much esteemed, 4 be no proportion of God to us, and of the Cret Let us also observe that S' Augustine was not i sideratlon, to hope, or (at the least) ardently tc mercy upon Eplctetus soul, being not able to t extraordinary mortification of his senses: and I h? of a Doctor of the Ambrosian Colledg of Ml^ Borhomeo heard no lecture which more pleased him than those which discoursed of this philosopher collected by Arrian. It is very certain, that the generosity and liberty of the soule, whicK Eplctetus made alwayes to appeare, notwithstanding his corporall servitude, and of which he hath left us so many important precepts in writing, acquired * L. 7. contra Celsum. 25 him such a repute, that the very lamp of earth wherewithall he used to illumhiate his lucubrations, was sold for three thousand drachmas after his decease ; at so high a value was all which appertained to him truely, it may well be said, that for the constancy, nme of tiie superior part, there was never any person •efore Epictetus, Rome had scene another excellent 'emetrius : this is he of whom Seneca speakes these his opinion. Nature had produced him to shew the that a greater genius might protect himselfe from fi multitude : althouuh he were not able to redresse Jwayes it is. And because he had acquired a very jat open profession which he made of Philosophique " CalliguJa would have alwayes had him about his a thing verle easie to have gained him by a « Demetrius, laughing at the thoughts of this j with disdaine that which was proffered him : Ifs he) would tempt me ; if he haue any designe eeds not trouble himself twice, let him at once ■j-, and then see if the price of an Empire were 'iberty. Certainly, bold termes w"'' well deserve eca, and consecrated by him even unto Eternity recommendation which he hath bestowed upon 1 doe not beleeve that it's possible to produce ^resse to make bs comprehend with what gene- e soule doth undervalue treasures, honours, and others liave in esteeme, to preserve themselves a of liberty- One action of Socrates is so patt for this purpose, that I should esteeme it criminall not to allege it, albeit hee were not the common lather of Philosophers, and he, out of whose braine (as out of some high mountaine) all their different sects are derived, like so many L. 7, de benef. c. 8. et 1 1. f Toto illi fui experiendus Iniperio. 24 "! man was a Stoicke, as you may perceive by his Enchiridion or Manuell, complied by Arrlan his disciple, being a summary of the morality which those of their sect made profession of. His most memorable dis- courses have been communicated unto us by the same Arri^n wIjo l\at| composed foure bookes of them, and so couched tl excellent Painter uses to draw his lineaments, to of a Soule, by so much the more free and helgl fortune endeavoured (it should seeme) to supp ■ ball which rebounded towards Heaven, propori whereby It was cast against the earth. In effe hlmselfe reduced to the hard condition of servltudj slaves of Epaphrodltus, Captaine of Nero's gujl appeared incomparably more free than his masteril phrodltus gave him a certalne rude blow on th|J him, dryly, that he should have a care he did ncft merclfull hangman having at that instant redoiSj such violence as he brake the bone, Eplctetus worthy of all ages to be admired), Did not I tell and breake my leg? 1 know well that Origen hasj of Celsus * for daring to prefer the above naj Jesus Christ ; but this does not hinder that tK should not deserve to be very much esteemed, d be no proportion of God to us, and of the Crej| Let us also observe that S' Augustine was not i slderatlon, to hope, or (at the least) ardently tq mercy upon Eplctetus soul, being not able to 1 extraordinary mortification of his senses: and I h of a Doctor of the Ambrosian Colledg of Mi Borhomeo heard no lecture which more pleased him than those which discoursed of this philosopher collected by Arrlan. It is very certain, that the generosity and liberty of the soule, which Eplctetus made alvvayes to appeare, notwithstanding his corporall servitude, and of which he hath left us so many Important precepts'ln writing, acquired ^:^f5iW * L. 7. contra Celsum. 25 him such a repute, that the very lamp of earth wherewithal! he used to illumhiate his lucubrations, was sold for three thousand drachmas after his decease ; at so high a value was all which appertained to him esteemed ; and truely, it may well be said, that for the constancy, liberty, and freedome of the superior part, there was never any person which exceeded him. A very little time before Eplctetus, Rome had scene another excellent Philosopher, called Demetrius : this is he of whom Seneca speakes these goodly words ; that in his opinion, Nature had produced him to shew the age wherein he lived, that a greater genius might protect himselfe from being perverted by the multitude : although he were not able to redresse it * : so Incorrigible alwayes it is. And because he had acquired a very high reputation by that open profession which he made of Philosophique liberty, the Emperour CalliguJa would have alwayes had him about his person, supposing it a thing verle easle to have gained him by a present of moneys. Demetrius, laughing at the thoughts of this Prince, and rejecting with dlsdaine that which was proffered him : if the Emperour (says he) would tempt me ; if he haue any designe to corrupt me, he needs not trouble himself twice, let him at once send me his diadem -f-, and then see if the price of an Empire were capable to shake my liberty. Certainly, bold termes w"'' well deserve to be collected by Seneca, and consecrated by him even unto Eternity itselfe, with all the recommendation which he hath bestowed upon them. For my part, I doe not beleeve that it's possible to produce an example more expresse to make us comprehend with what gene- rosity a Philosophique soule doth undervalue treasures, honours, and generally whatsoever others liave in esteeme, to preserve themselves tbe inestimable good of liberty. One action of Socrates is so patt for this purpose, that I should esteeme it criminal! not to allege it, albeit hee were not the common father of Philosophers, and he, out of whose braine (as out of some high mountaine) all their different sects are derived, like so many * L. 7j de benef. c. 8. et 11. f Toto illi fui experienilus Imperio. E 26 seperated rivulets. This man, of a life irreproachable (to speake * morally, whom Justine Martyr afiBrms to have bin a Christian long be- fore Christianity it selfe: and whom many of our Doctors have not as yet dared absolutely to exclude Paradise) was desired by the King of Mace- don, Archelaiis, that he would come unto him : he dwelt not long on the resolution which he was to take hereupon, and his answer was, that he was not so inconsiderate as to apply himself to a man whose benefits he knew not how to recompense. However Seneca f, who beleeved he could penetrate even into the very Interlour of Socrates, assures us, that the feare of prejudicing his liberty, and delivering himself over unto an inevitable servitude, was the only ground of his refusall. Whosoever will be free, ought to imitate Socrates In that. He that cannot despise the Court of Princes, and all that which the Court can promise of goods, pleasures, and dignities, can never enjoy a pure and Phllosophique liberty : and he It is onely who (Philosopher like) values liberty according to her due estimate, that voluntarllv abandons all thlnjrs to the end he may enjoy her. This is that Diogenes had very well learned, when of all the favours which Alexander offered him, he accepted none but that of rendering him the beames of the Sun, which the person of this uionarch hindered him from enjoying, by interposing of himselfe. And when he replyed to those who called the Philosopher Calllsthenes happy, !)ecause of the many favours which the same Prince conferred upon him at the beginning, that for his part, he esteemed him most unfortunate, in that he could not dine nor supp, but at the pleasure of Alexander. I could yet let you see by sundry other examples, that which these already prove touching the Phllosophicjue liberty. Anaxagoras, to the Intent he might procure this freedome, absolutely quitted his patrimony to him that would accept thereof. Liberty caused Hera- clltus, as likewise Prometheus, to resigne their scepters into the hands of their brothers. And Empedocles renounced the government of a monarchy, which was presented him, for the love he bare unto her. I might add, that Pythagoras made alm.ost the same reply to Hiero ; * j\po. 1. & 2. i L.5. de benef. c. 6. 2r Diogenes to Antlpater; Zeno to Antigonus ; Stilpo to Ptolemy; Xeuocrates, Ephorus, and Meneclemus, to Alexander, which Socrates did unto Archelaus : hut I supjiose to have sufficiently cleared two things : the one, that this liherty is not ahsolutely intire, hecause she is often- times only intellectual : the other, that she is so rare, hecause of her solutive faculty from whatsoever most strictly obligeth, and restrains our affections ; so as we may very well indulge those who doubt of her reall existencv. For if the least imaffinahle constraint, or triviall engagement, he capable to dispossesse us the fruition of so great a good; and if this Spanish sentence, Quien me ata, me mata ; "he which binds me kills me," be, as I take it to be, the most proper devise that a man may assume who pretends to be in the Philoso- phlque liberty : who is it, I pray, following our precedent conjecture, that hath the face to attribute it unto himselfe ? Truely, I doe very much doubt whether there be any man can do it with conscience, w*' being so, we shall not make it any difficulty to repeate in this place : That perhaps there is none at all who can truly affirme himselfe to be free. The examples of Demetrius and Socrates advertise me, in that which remaines, to reflect upon the servitude of the Court, as it stands in opposition to the greatest liherty, which is the Philosophique, by the greatest servitude, which we presume to be that of the Court. CHAP. V. OF THE SERVITl'DE OF THE COURT. Seeing the end (as the first in our intention) is that which regulates all our actions : it is no wonder at all that when the greatest recom- pences are proposed, there should also be found the most laborious, and difficult travailes, and that the pretentions of the Court being so eminent, and, as it were, almost infinite, obligeth those that attaine them unto extreame servitude. There is nothing to which a Courtier doth not submit himselfe that he may comply with this sweet hope, 28 which never lets him he at rest, and which the Itahans have very aptly tearmed, the bread of the mUerable. The flies cannot be hindered from following the honev, although one ant travalles more way in a few honres (according to the proportion of his body) in searching some grains of corne, then doth the sun in all his quotidian revolutions. It is the prey which makes the most solitary and cruell of wild beasts to quit the forest ; and a fairer bait obliges the poore fish to precipitat hlmselfe into the net, or at least to swallow the hooke : but the passion which all these silly creatures have for that which they most afi^ect, is not comparable to the desires of Courtiers, who bequeath the fairest daves of their life, and voluntarily renounce their liberty upon the empty beliefe which they have to bee one day able to satisfie the uttermost of their desires : for albeit experience hath taught the world, that the service of great men is like unto long voyages, from whence Indeed some there be which returne rich : but where the most part also miserably perish ; and although it be easle to observe that few of those who plunge themselves into this vast ocean of the Court ever arrive at their desires, and can boast them- selves of having transported pearles from thence : yet will no body, for all this take warning, and galne bv the sad example of others. Every one promises unto hlmselfe fortune more propitious than any of his companions found her ; and as one vessell happily arrived from the Indies is the cause why an hundred others undertake the vovage, (without considering that a thousand otiiers have been shipwrackcd,) so the g-ood fortune of one sole Courtier is the cause that there be innumerable who Imbarke themselves to steere the same course which the other hath gone before, notwithstanding all the hazards of a sea so full of Pyrats, as is the Court, and so obnoxious to all sorts of weather. But to leave allegories, and as it were with the finger point out that which we have already spoken touching servitude, and which it is almost impossible to evade ; we shall consider it in the one and the other part of the body and of the mind, according to our divisions already established ; and shall make it cleare, that if there be no slaves more miserable than those who are dally in 29 chains, Courtiers may in that sense passe for the most unhappy amongst men. I should be very sorry that any man should take this which I am about to deliver for a satyre, and that which I have read in books for a description of those things which I might have observed in the Court of Princes : in effect, I reflect on nothing here save the antient Courts, those of barbarians and tyrants, from whence I gather all the proofes of my discourse. The liberty which I assume to alledge, what the philosophers of that time have declared against them, is a sure testimony of the esteeme which I make of the courts of Chris- tians, and above all that of ours, which would never permit me to speake in this manner were it guilty of the same defects : besides, it would be both impertinent and unjust, that I should be blamed for that which so many others have done before me ; and since a Pope (such a one as was Pius the Second) durst before his Pontificat, and during the time he was yet called * iEneas Sylvius, describe all the miseries of Courtiers, protesting that hee did it without designe to olfend either the Emperour Frederick, his Prince, or his Court : why should any man take in ill part these philosophique reflections which I propose upon the same subject : and that which hath nothing of the asperity which this author, and infinite others, have mixed in their writings treating upon this matter ? And if I have bin (as it were) compelled to observe certain vices in generall of the Court, occasion may offer itselfe, another time, to proclaime the vertue thereof, and to speake particularly of its merit. For my part, 1 doe not beleeve that any (except such as have never scene the Court, or so much as heard speake of the aire, and fashion of living there,) can be ignorant of the extreme personall subjection which he is obliged to render day and night unto those men whose favour he desires to obtaine. There is no body in that country but ought to be even ready to mutilate and dismember himself like Zophyrus, that by so doing he might insinuate, and serve to the advance of what he there searcheth : not, that where the service of * L. de miser. Curialiuin. 30 ones Prince is concern'd, a man should not be obliged even to expose both his life and fortune for a subject so worthy ; all nations have unanimously consented to this politique principle, (to wit,) that there is no death more glorious, more meritorious, than that which is received for the affection to his Souveraign and love of his Country : notwith- standing, there is a great deale of difference betwixt the actions which have so noble an object, albeit they cannot otherwise than testifie a necessary servitude, and such, whereof we shall here produce examj)les, which have for their foundation nothing but an infamous flattery, and a servile baseness of spirit. Philip of Macedon having been con- strained to weare a fillet, by reason of a wound which he had received on the head ; the greater part of those of his Court come al)rodd with the like, as if they had all of them had the same occasion. His son Alexander contracted this ill habitude to carry his head awry, which was the cause that there appeared not a man in all his equipage, but such as Inclined their necks likewise to the same side. The young Dionysius was naturally pur-bhud, and the wine which he loved excessively did much shorten his sight; by and by, all his followers feigned themselves blind, every man jossling his fellow, and stumbling at everv foote ; and Atheneus * observeth, that being at the table, they counterfeited, and made semblance not to find the dishes, affecting also to sit in the place where the King used to spit upon them, with other the like sordidityes, which it were a shame to report. This kind of voluntary blindnesse puts me in mind of that which one writ of the Emperour Hadrian : the extra- ordinary love which he had for Antinous (whether because of his exqui- site beauty ; or for that he offered himselfe a victime at the sacrifice which was celebrated for the prolongation of the Emperour's life) gave him a passionate desire to have this voung boy placed amongst the num- ber of the gods. Hadrian had no sooner declared himselfe thereupon, but immediately those of his Court protested (contending who should first bring the tydlngs) that they had scene the soule of the fayre Antinous as- cend on high, and take his place as a new star, in that part of the heavens where wc do at this day observe the constellation which beareth his * L. 5. &10. 31 name. And indeed one ought never approach greater powers (accord- ing to the saying of Xenophanes, ^ ug ^Sio-tch, ^ ug rjSia-Tu,') unlesse we be resolved to practise all kind of complaisance. The agreahle- nesse of dissimulation doth almost every day surmount the homely simplicitle of truth ; nay, and some would have it passe for a rule of Court* to confesse that he perceived the stars, if another would maintaine it to be night at high noone : or, being become a little better versed in the Court, to excuse our selves, for that we have mistaken the moone for the sun. So it is, that besides this shamefull captivity of all the senses, are we basely obliged to submit unto those of other mens. The person of a Courtier is so little in his owne power, that (to take it rightlv) he enjoyeth it not but as a thing meerly borrowed, and as having engaged the propriety which he possessed there. For (without speaking at all of ordinary dutyes which consume even almost all the precious movements and actions of this life : and without touching an infinity of perills wherein it's necessary he should expose himselfe almost every moment) the sole complaisance doth sometimes cause him as it were out of frailty to deprive himselfe even of a part of his body. Luclan tells us that the eunuch Combabus, favourite of Seleucus and passionately be- loved by the Queen Stratonica his wife, had no sooner declared to the Assyrian Court, (to the end he might thereby avoyde all calumny and suspition) that he had dismembered himselfe of the parts which he wanted ; but suddenly those whose hopes depended upon his favours did the same, and voluntarily deprived themselves ot that which only rendered them men, to the end they might not lose their expectations, and continue themselves in the good graces of Combabus. This shall suffice to demonstrate how great the servitude of the body is. It will be needlesse to insist much upon that of the mind, seeing this is the most common of all other maximes of the Court : never to have other will than that of great mens ; nor to judge of any thing whatsoever (if there be any meanes to avoyde it) untill they have * Gul. St. 32 first passed their opinion ; that so nothing may be spoken which may be obnoxious to the least exception. There is perhaps no religious vow whatsoever that exacts of us any so entire a renuntiation of all the actions of our proper will, as doth the interest of the Court, and the designe of makhig a fortune there. From thence is it results this great conformity of the inclinations of Princes, and that if Francis the First testified his affection to letters, ail the world will be learned ; not esteeming him a good Courtier who bred not his children Scholars. On the contrary, doth any Prince despise the sciences ? every one affects barharisme : Lux and superfluity -was established through the dissoluteness of Henry the Third, as was piety, when he assumed the weed of a penetentiary. In fine, this is a thing universally acknowledged of the world, that the Court is a place of perpetuall dissimulation, where one alwayes walkes with the visage in Mascarado, where one feignes to desire that which he most abhoreth, and where there is no one act produced of freewill, unlesse it be that by which we embrace a voluntary servitude. But as touching the operations of the intellect, they are in Court so much the more subject, as the prostitution of this part is effected with- out much violence, in those who make all other considerations whatso- ever to give place to those of profit : such is the most frequent custome of the Court, after that a man is never so little engaged in the enchantments of this Circes : and verllv, I lesse wonder at some men, who indulge themselves this liberty, to represent the terrestrial Gods rather such as they ought to be, then such as they really are. These, I say, are not the most culpable, although sufficiently blame- worthy, who content themselves in styling their vices Imperfect virtues, and discover every day goodly names which serve for co- verture unto all their defaults. But this is a thing altogether de- plorable, having respect to the liberty whereof we speake, when we submit even unto the basenesses of the mind, and to flatterlngs so enormous and ridiculous, that one ever appeares to have made bankrupt all manner of judgment. Alexander the Great was con- strained to heare one of those infamous cajollerles, when one of 33 his Court (whom Atheneus nameth Nicesius*) jDrotested to him that the very flyes which sucked his blood became more vahant, and gave stings more courageously than other flyes did. The Philosopher Anaxander, notwithstanding his profession, treated this monarch after the same man- ner, when upon a clap of thunder, which was very terrible, he desired that he would say whether it was not hee, who (as son of Jove) did but even now thunder so loud. Constantino was compelled to stop the mouth of a Priestf who told him that his vertues merited not onely to command (as hee did) during this life; but likewise to reigne in the other also, with the sonne of God. Procoplus (or to say better, he that hath made tiie Anecdotes under his name) representeth the great Civillian Trlbonlus, not ashamed to use these tearmes to Justinian "l : " I sweare to your Imperlall Majestic, that this great pietie which you alwayes exercise, giveth me extraordinary apprehensions, that I shall behold you suddenly assumed into heaven, when we least expect it." To this likewise are conformable those words of Hesychius, touching the Impiety of Trlbonlus in his life: And we know also, that at an entry of Demetrius into Athens, one told him, there was none other God save himselfe : or that, if any, they were busie in sleeping, and taking their repose, during the time hee acted. After this sort it is, that crimes so easily immingle themselves, and that in an extreame impiety we may observe a wonderfuU strange dlssolutenesse of mind, which is for the most part attended with a feare which never abandons even the very slaves themselves. Harpagus, being asked by Astyages if he had well relished the flesh of his sonne, of which he now but newly had eaten with a prodigious inhumanity, answered, that at the table of his Soveraigne, there was nothing ill, and that whatsoever was don by his command was to him most agreeable, Herodotus, who relateth this story §, doth yet furnish us with another upon the same sub- ject : Cambyses having placed for his butt or marke the heart of a young boy which he transfixed with a dart in the presence of his father, demanded of him, what his opinion was of the shot : to whom the father * Lib. C. t Euseb. 1. 4. de vit& Const, c. 4 J P. 61. J Lib. 1. and 3. 34 answered, that he did not heleeve even Apollo hlmselfe could have levelled more exactly. Truly I am of Seneca's judgment, that although the cruelty of the Tyrant was very notorious, yet was the reply of the Father farre more impious. Sceleratius telumillud laiidatum est, qucim emissum *. At the least no man can deny, that these are not examples sufficiently pregnant to show what may be expected from the liberty of the judgments of the Court; where we ought to resist even the most just and sensible movements of nature, to the end we may say nothing which may displease such as are feared and adored there. If Alexander will be taken for one of the Gods, the Priests of Jove are the first who attribute unto him the rayes of the deity, and ac- knowledge him for the reall sonne of Hammon. But happly these mentall captivities would appeare lesse strange to us, suffered we them only to comply with those unto whom otherwise we cannot render too many respects. It would be no wonder to see that Favorinus betrayed the honour of his knowledge and reason in favour of an Emperour who commanded thirty legions. And in effect, when the Ecclesiastique -f- hath delivered us the precept never to make shew of over great abilities before one's Soveraign ; it seemes that he would incite us to this flexibility of mind, which we ought ever to have in presence of him, and those principall ministers who do represent the person of the King ; and to whom he comraunicateth a beam of his lustre and authority. But the mischiefs is, that we must oftentimes exercise this our obedience towards persons who doe least merit it of their Soveraign. We beare more respect to a favourite of Pompey's, than unto Cato of Utica. And the whole world hath observed the insolent authority of the Eunuchs in most of the Levantine Courts, of Libertines in that of the ancient Italy, and of a number of the same stufFe who have (in sundry places) abused the favour of their masters. For Princes sometimes please themselves in imitating those great architects who remove huge machines with very small engines. They extreamely delight to have power to act as caitses universall in changing (according as they seeme good) the * L. 3. de ira, c. 14. f c. 7. 35 destinies of their subjects. And to represent him the better whose lively image they are here on earth, exalt some one from the dunghill, even to the sublimest dignityes and most important charges of their palace. Men are their counters, which signifie in value more or lesse, according to the position which they are pleased to assigne them. And after the same nianner as every man may, when he writes, make such or such a letter of the alphabet precede, which best him pleaseth, Kings are in possession to bestow the principall places of honour and authority within their states unto those whom some particular incli- nation causeth them to preferre before others. In the meane time, whatsoever may be (for history makes it evident that the election is not always equall) we ought not lesse to submit our discourse and reason to all their pleasures, than to the will of the Soveraigne himselfe, for that many times the Prince is not accessible, but through their mediation. The most inferiour of his petty officers who hath the honour to approach his sacred person at the houres of his retyrement, and private divertisments, may easily enough make or marre, advance or retarde the most important affaires. And therefore it is we see in the Acts of the Apostles *, that those of Tyre and Sidon, desirous to be re-ingratiated with King Herod (who was offended at them), addressed themselves unto Blastus, prime groome of the Privy Chamber, by his meanes to make their peace. And I well remember upon that, of a Persian tale, which perhaps is no jot inferiour in subtilty to any one of those which the antlents have attributed unto .ffisop. A King (says the fable) havelng made proclamation that they should assemble all the beasts of burthen which could possibly be found, to serve in the warr that he undertooke ; the Fox was no sooner advertised thereof, but immediately he flyes, that he might avoide the perill of so unprofitable an employment : by and by, he meetes the wolfe, who (Instead of imitation) derides him, that he did not conceive that the ordinance onely respected those beasts who were proper for burthen, from which they were altogether exempt. " Do not you rely upon that," replyes the Fox, " for I tell thee, that if those * Chap. 12. 36 which be about the King once take the caprice that we may serve as well as the rest, we shall likewise be compelled to goe, or, at least, infinitely suffer, before his Majestie can be rightly informed of our reasons to the contrary." It is no difficult matter to extract the sense of this ingenious story, and so judge of what importance the favour and authority of those wee speake of, doth concerne us. This is it which doth infinitely multiply the servitude of the Court, which renders the subjection much more insupportable, and that which makes it to be numbred (as I conceive) amongst those felicities which the Ecclesias- tique * reckons up ; even the happinesse not to have our liberty engaged unto those parsons who deserve not the least subjection unto them. The goodnesse of that Government under which we live, giveth nie the hardinesse to explain myselfe with a liberty worthy the reign of Lewis the Just : as he is one of the greatest m.onarchs on earth, and the most worthy to be admired ; he is likewise the best of all, and such a prince, that there is no imagining liberty which can possibly be so sueet and advantageous unto us, as the obedience which we render him. After his example, the greatest of his Court exercise an authority so well moderated, that I do verily believe to be able, u ithout danger as well as without fear, to report the defects of others, and say, in generall, that which was almost continuallv blamed in the palaces of other princes. The theame which hath hitherto adduced me, hath too far absented me from flattery to adde any thing which doth so much as approach it. And I know the genius of his Majesty, and of those who have the most power about him, to be so averse from those adulterate and false praises (of which we have but newly spoken) as by that only, I should feare to become odious and blame worthy, were I but so incon- siderate as to make use of them. Truly there is nothing which the most glorious potentates ought so much to detest as a flatterer, which ascribeth to them such extravagant, borrowed encomiums, whenas they merit nothing but such as are proper and veritable. And therefore it was that Lysippus boldly affirmed, he had more honoured Alexander, • Chap, 25. 37 representing him holding a speare in his hand, than Apelles, who had painted him brandishing and fulminating the lightning, like Jove himselfe. Indeed we read in the history of this great conqueror, that he laughed at a certain artist who had the vanity to undertake, of the mountain Athos to carve out the figure of Alexander, if hee would but have given him commission : as also, how on a time he cast the booke of Aristotle into the river which he passed, as unworthy, because of some ridiculous and incredible exploits which he writ*, that Alexander had performed in a duell against King Porus, wherein he was never yet en- gaged. Attila was touched with the like resentment, when he condemned to the fire, in Pavia, the verses ofacertaine poet ; for that to render the pedigree of this scourge of God the more Illustrious, he had derived it from so farr, till he extracted his descent even from the Immortall es- sences themselves. And verily they had (in my opinion) good reason so to treate them. For my part, I esteeme modesty to be one of the most essentlall parts of praise ; nor should I believe I had yet rendered all the honour and respect which I owe unto those heroes and to our great Lewis, were it not that the silence wherewithall I reverence them, and which I doe voluntarily Impose on my selfe, composed the better part of their praises. THE CONCLUSION. Behold here, Melpoclitus, what hath so often traversed my thoughts, and of which I verily persuade my selfe, the meditation will not be altogether frultlesse, in the necessity which sometimes engageth us to accommodate with the inevitable subjections of life. For, if it be true, that to affirme ones selfe free, we ought to be exempt from all kind of corporall and mental servitude; if there be no man who may challenge a right of attributing that liberty solely to himselfe ; since even Kings themselves be not enfranchised from certain duties which doe most strictly oblige them to their people. If those philosophers who * Lucian de Scrib. Hist. 38 would be esteemed in this respect, paramount to all crowns and dia- dems, have rendred themselves slaves to vanity, as other men are of their passions ; if, I say, the servitude of the Court, diametrically opposite to the philosophique liberty, captivate such a world of people (accordingly as we are compelled to demonstrate), may we not then well conclude that there is not any person who is absolutely free ? Which thing being so, every one ought to satisfie himselfe in that con- dition of life to which he findeth himselfe engaged ; or (it may be) attached unto ; although, happily, he therein find likewise some species of subjection, since (that in fine) we are all obliged quietly to acquiesce, upon that which the Divine Providence hath determined upon this poynt of our LIBERTY. THE STATE OF FRANCE, AS IT STOOD :N the IX™ YEER OF THIS PRESENT MONARCH LEWIS Xllll. WRITTEN TO A FRIEND, BY LONDON: PRINTED EY T. M. FOR M. M. G. BEDELL, AND T. COLLINS, AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE, FLEET STREET. 1655. THE STATE OF FRANCE, AS IT STOOD IN THE NINTH YEER OF THIS PRESENT MONARCH LEWIS THE XIIII. WRITTEN TO A FRIEND. SINCE I had first the honour to bee one of those whose conversation you have cherished with so many signall obhgations, and,, as it were currents of civiUty ; I can hardly think, that (vvlien by so many literal expresses and personal commands, you enjoin me to deliver something in writing, touching the late subject of our discourse} you have either cause to delight in my triviall conceptions, or designe my discredit : For however your instances have at last prevailed, yet your honor is no lesse concerned to be tender how you publish my defects, whilest in them onely (though the faults be mine) men will so peremptorily conclude your want of judgment, and condemn your election. But you have promised to be discreet, and I shall then make a saving adventure of my reputation with you, who have candor and charity not from the multitude, but the stock of your own worth and ingenuous education ; of which this Essay will be rather an History, then any thing otherwise capable to informe you, who know already so much more, and better, then I can possibly either write or relate. But to begin once, since it is my fate to obey you ; I shall nothing- alter the Scene which was then presented to you, when you were pleased (as it since appears) to take notice of those casuall Discourses of mine, wherein I posted over the best remarks and most materiall observations which my weak judgment had been able to recollect, during my so many pererrations and unprofitable sojourn abroad, and especially in this kingdome of France. G 42 Nor will I vex your patience with any Topographicall Descriptions, as being the daily subject of your contemplations, when at any time you please to refresh your self amongst those exquisite Cards of the latest and most accurate editions : but represent, in as succinct a method as I am able, what in order to affairs (as in the government of this most active and illustrious monarchie they now stand) I conceive to be chiefly proper and requisite for a gentleman of our nation (under the notion of a traveller) to be able to render an accompt of at his return : and therefore, before I proceed further, I will comphe with your desircj and speak a word or two (by way of Introduction, or digression rather,) of my sentiment and opinion touching forraign travel in general, wherein I shall also deal veiy impartially with all the world concerning mine own particular, as being (I hope) taking my long farewell thereof. That which first rendred me of this apodeniick humour, (I shall not discourse here of mercuriall complexions, whom Physiognomists affirme to be Individua vaga's, like my self,) proceeded from a certain vaine emulation which I had, to see the best of education, which every body so decrying at home, made me conceive was a commodity onely to be brought from a far countrie ; and I cannot say, without a little ambition too of knowing, or at least of having the priviledg to talk something more then others could reasonably pretend to, that had never bin out of sight of their owne chlmnies smoke : all which was a ridiculous affectation, contracted first from the ordinary radomontadas of such as have seen strange places, and great want of discretion, and so fondly transported with pleasure onely, and temptation of novelties, the very instrumental causes of this unsettled extravagancy. True it is, non omnis fert omnia Tellus : for the great and good God hath discreetly, and very wisely disposed, in the furnishing and adorning (as I may say) of this Terrestrlall Cabinet, having left no one part or corner thereof without some thing specially different, and admirably remarkable, either in the composition, quality or use ; all of them according to their position, situation, and effects, admirably commodious and dependant ; of which divine CEConomy there may be infinitely more spoken then will be suitable to this design, after 1 43 have inferred that for these respects only, a traveller has some excuse, as well as encouragement, to go abroad and see the world. Now then, for as much as the end of all our appetites, wisely inquired into, ought to be the principal mira, and terme to all our actions, he that would travell rationally, and like a Philosopher, must industriously apply himself to the pursuit of such things as (through- out all his peregrinations) may result most to the profit and emolu- ment of his own country at his return ; whether in the accomplishing of his person or affairs, there being nothing more veritable, then that saying of Homer, 'Ato-p/eov yao ^Tqqiv ts fuevsiv, ksvbov t£ t/setrSa*. Turpe quidem mansisse diu, vacuumque redire. And therefore Peregrinatio animi imper'io, §• corporis ministerio debet perjici : for so it was that Ptolomies young noblemen, of whose rich fraight and return wee read of, travelled, and brought home with them wares of more value then if they had transported gold and pearles. For the same cause Pythagoras took leave of his friends and native country, to which bee afterwards returned with the learning of the ^Egyptians, as Strabo in his seventh book and fourteenth chapter, Ilap AtyvTrrtuv TrXxvTiQsvToi (ptXo[4,cx,dicx.g x^^piv. And not as Plinie affirmeth, Exiliis verius quam pei^egrinationihus susceptis. Nay, his passion and thirst after this excellent commerce was so admirable, that the same authour in Syren, tells us, he made nothing of circumcising himself, that so hee might with the more freedom and lesse suspicion pry into their profoundest mysteries : for therefore were the Egyptian priests called ukoivuv^toi, incommunicable, and Sua-i^iSTuSoToi, imparticipable*. Such a designe led Thales, Eudoxus, Apollonius, nav Plato him- self, and divers other renowned personages, El? A'lymTov (x,(pi.w^ivot kocI (Twyevo fyi-evoi TO~q ie^sv Kmgdome, how it ^yg wlU stco a little back, and see by what meanes and deijrees it be- became so abso- ' "^ ^ '"'*• came so absolute. Whilst the nobility of France were in a manner free and independent Princes (for such was heretofore the most part of them) how are histo- ries loud with their carriages and deportment towards their Soveraigns ? what checks upon every occasion were they ready to give them ? wit- 57 nesse those frequent impresses of a certain Duke of Gienne, Bourbon, Bretagne, and others of the same rank ; nor hath these later times exempted the Crown itself from the dangerous consequences which so many fortified towns, governments, and places of importance, have so often menaced, and, in effect, notably bridling the head of Majesty ; untill the defunct and great Cardinall de Rlchlieu found out a speedy s^;^^-;^''^''"^"-' '"' and fortunate expedient to reduce them to obedience, and that not i^d^/J.^ncy"'' onely by subjugating the Posts themselves, which he performed by strength, but likewise by so dextrously interesting the Gentry and refrac- tory Nobility, both by honours and blood, to the Court and his faction, which he did by policy : in fine, he so handled the cards, that the better sort of people became tractable out of meer respect to their relations ; and the meaner by an Inevitable constraint, as well as the example of their Chiefs, were compelled to a due submission ; so that now the sove- reignty of France is become so independent and absolute, that albeit it do still retaine a shadow of the ancient form, yet it is, duly considered, a thing heavenly wide and different: for in the Kings sole power it is The Kings abso- " ■!• II . I lute power, both to resolve of, and dissolve warrs ; by him are the lawes interpreted ; letters of grace, of naturality, and other acts given out ; he it is imposeth taxes, from which (by a speciall decree) the Church her selfe is not exempt ; nay, albeit the Pope his own Holinesse consent not ; from all whose ecclesiasticall censures, fulminations, and anathemas, he feels himselfe also priviledged, and therefore nominates all spirituall persons to their preferments and dignities : notwithstanding all this, the handsomer to disguise and apparell these his volunties, and render them at the least specious proceedures of justice, he permits none of his '^""1,'^ v^l^cel-" edicts to passe as authentick until the Court of Parliament (who is absolutely at his devotion) have first verified them ; a favour this like- wise out of complement too, non tarn necessitatis quam humanitatis, as (""'piement. a civilian (whose glosse it is) hath warily termed it. So that as for the Parliaments of France ^besides the name and formalitv\ there is in ^'"■"'"««''< < ^ . >" trance a name truth now no such thing in nature ; which, together with their ancient ""'"■ liberties, how deservedly they lost them may be easily discovered in their frequent rebellions. In a word, he who would perfectly, and without more adoe, understand by what law and rule the Kings of I in Church anrt State, 58 By what vteaiis discomposed. France impose on their vassals, may see it summarily, yet very legibly ingraven by that fore-mentioned Cardinall, upon that excellent artillery which defend his Majesties citadell at Havre de Grace, in Normandy, where you may run and read the best of tenures, as the times are now, in this epigraph, Ratio ultima Regiun ; though for this slavery of theirs, they may in some degree thank our countrymen, whose forces being erabowelled amongst them, hindred the assembling of the Three Estates (as they should have done) : whereupon the King being neces- sitated to make his simple edicts passe for authentick laws (although this power were delivered to him during his wars only), was the reason why the people could never recover or seize on them since. A jewel this of too great value (some think) to bee intrusted to one person, upon what pretence or necessity soever. To the King and his immediate issue, in dignity and rank, are the Dukes and Peers of France. But first, it is to be observed, that the Pi'inces of the Blood of this Kingdom possess their lands and revenues under the name of appanage, and not as absolute proprietaries ; by which means all their estates return again to the Crown by the right of reversion, to the end that the domaine abide intire, and for other the like reasons : the Duke of Sully Henry Richmont, heretofore called Bois Belle (on which there hangs a story) only excepted. We will passe over their original, which would be extreme difficult to investigate, and proceed to their authority, which was first established Their originaii Jjy Huffucs Capet and his descendants, who thereupon obliffed them to aulhoiUy, J o I ' I O hold their lands of the Crown immediately ; by which means he also gained many that before were disaffected to him, as the Earls of Flan- ders, the Archbishop of Rheims, and divers others, who had been at the first great opposers of this usurper. Now of these Peers, there were at the first twelve only ordained : to wit, six of the spiritualty, and as many of the temporalty : but at this day their number is become indefinite, depending solely on the pleasure of the King : and these are so named, not for that they pretend to any equality of dignity with their Soveraign, but their mutual parity in authority one amongst another. TVieir estates re- vertabte to the Crown by aj^ia- nage. and number. 59 ■ ' The Ecclesiasticks were 1. The Archbishop and Duke of Rheims. Eeciuiasticii. 2. The Bishop and Duke de Laon. 3. The Bishop and Duke de Langres. 4. The Bishop and Earl of Beauvais. 5. The Bishop and Earl of Noyon. 6. The Bishop and Comte de Chaalons in Champagne. The six Temporal were {1. BourgOgne. Tanporall. 2. Normandie. 3. Giiyenne. ^4. Thoulouse. The Compts of) 5. Champagne. 1 6. Flanders. These twelve Peers composed likewise in times past the Parliament of France, from whence it is to this day called (as once with us) the Court of Peers. Now, amongst sundry other immunities and priviledges which they Their immunities ■ . !•• (-11 1 I -iiJ- ir- and priv Hedges. injoy, this is none or the least, that they can neither be disposed oi, nor appealed in judgment, but onely in the Court of Parliament, where they have their places as the Princes of the Blood have ; for, before the insti- tution of that high tribunal in this kingdom, the Peers were those which judged all causes that were ordinarily brought before the King ; nor did he manage any thing else either in war or peace, without their speciall aid and assistance. Moreover, this dignitie to some hath been granted for life, some personal, others onely to the males descending, some. for ever ; vea, and even women themselves are alike capable of „. ., . ' J ' i I'Tomen capable of pairerieS. pairenes. It would take up too much time, should I trouble vou with their Charges m the r ' J Coronation. severall functions and charges at the Coronation, more fit for an herauld than an historian ; this onely is observable, that albeit there were never so many Peers present, those onely who bare the titles of the six Spiri- tuall and sixTemporall before noted, officiate at the ceremony; for which very purpose, those who are wanting, or extinct, have yet their repre- sentatives, who upon this occasion stand for, and supply their persons. 60 T/it Crown of We havc spoken now of the King and prime Nobility; let us next France, and Of- i /-> i • rr* I i i • ficers beimging to suFvcy the C/iown and prime oincers thereunto belonging. The late author of the Estat de France hath divided them into three Ancients, three Modern, and three Domestique ; which truly, is not an unequall trichotomy; but for that I intend to perfect what I have already established touching the Court, I will commence with the three last in this partition, and so come to those which more immediately ap- pertaine to the State afterwards. The Domestique The thrcc Domestick Officers and charges are qfficeis. O The Grand Maistre of France. The Grand CJiamhellan of France. The Grand Escuyer of France. The office of the The officc of Gvaiul Maistrc de France is Superintendent of the Grand Maislit de '■ France. Kings house, and hath absolute jurisdiction over all the domestick officers and provisions of his Majesties table ; and is a place of so su- preme authority, that it is seldom conferred save upon one of the Princes of the Blood ; the Prince of Condy at present undeservedly inheriting his fathers charge therein. Subordinate of. Under the Grand Maistre are many subordinate officers, as maistres jicerstohim. cV hostcl, butlers, carvcrs, gentlemen Waiters, and a whole regiment of others, which are reduced to no certain number : one thing is to be (jcemontiatthe jjotcd, that whcii the King" dyes, the Grand Maistre breaketh his staffe death of the King. ' O J ' of office, not only as an erableme of the dismission of the rest, but like- wise to shew that their charges are only dependant upon the life of the King, albeit afterward the successor for the most part re-establisheth them. Tiie High Cham- Next to the Grand Muistve is the High Chamberlain of France, who ficJrs'"Z^rd[nate hath the supcrvisall and disposition of all officers of the King's bedcham- ber and wardrobe, gives or denyes accesse to his Majestic ; under him there are four chief gentlemen of the chamber, called, les quatres pre- miers gentils homines de la chambre du Roy ; one of these ever lies in the Kings bedchamber, or very near to it. Under these are the Masters of the Wardrobe, very lucrative places, to whom are subordinate the Pages, &c. to him. 61 Lastly, the Grand Escuyer, or Master of the Horse, superintendent TUe Grand Es- •' "^ ... CHi/er, )iis aitlho- of the Premier Escuyer and other officers of the stables; his charge it is ^-^'y- to march on horseback before the King, bearing a sword and belt, when his Majestv entreth into any city ; but in those towns which have a parliament he carries (in place thereof) a casque of blew velvet semeed with^ewr^ de lys, his own horse caparisoned with the like. He pre- tends also authority over the Masters of the Post, offices of wonderfull gain ; but it is now otherwise settled. The Master of the Horse hath likewise under him four and twenty Pages, who being the sons of prime Noblemen, are educated in all such exercises as become their quality. The Grand Escuyer is at present the Prince of Harcourt. The Premier Escuyer (whom I have before-mentioned) hath parti- Premu. Escuyn-. cular care of the Kings little stable, where the coach horses are kept, as also over the Pages, who be no lesse then fifty in number, and the Kings Footmen ; in effect'he commands equally both the great and little stables, so that the charge of the Premier Escuyer is not much inferiour to that of Master of the Horse himself. The King; hath likewise foure Secretaries of his Chamber, and three Secretaries of the C5 Kings Chamber of his Cabinet : to speak truth, the multitude of those who stile them- and Cabmti. selves Secretaries to the King, is such, that what with the greatnesse of their number, and inconsiderablenesse of most of their persons, the dig- nity of the charge is extremely eclipsed. The Kings Pibliothecarius, Superintendant of the moveables of the The mbuotheca- " *■ ^ ^ riaSy Controlersy Crown, Controlers, Treasurers, Mareschals des Losres, Capitaine de la Treasurers, Mare- Porte, who hath under him a guard of fifty halberds, &c. and of other capuaine de la inferiour officers of all sorts, under those above five hundred more, though never half of them waiting at a time, and so not constantly eatine: at Court, as did heretofore most of the officers of the Kings of or"^''' ^pj(f»'- O ' C3 and hospitalUt/ of England ; the splendor, hospitality, order, and decent magnificence of '^^^"fj"'' ^''"" whose service and attendance in this kind, I am confident no Court of Europe hath ever approach'd or parallell'd. There are likewise of Churchmen, the Create Almoner of France, The Great .-ii- nioner. upon whom depend all of that robe in the Court ; under him is also the Premier Almoner, and subordinate to him the severall Chaplains, cw«/mo"i '^'"*'' Clerks, Confessors. 62 P&itainhig to the Kinpra pleasure, as VeneuTy Fan- cannier J ^v. Officers helongitig to the Qutens i7i particular^ much like those of the Kings, except Maids of Honour, Knights, ifC. The Grand Pre- vosf, Itis command. Guard of the King of France. ion Gentlemen. Musquetiers on horseback. Nowe before I proceed, somthing I should speak of those royall officers which supenntend the Kings pleasures and ordinary recreations; such is the Grand F(S7ieu7' and Fauconnie?', the Chief Hunter, and Master of the Game — placesnotonly of very great honour, but also of command ; but a word of them shall suffice, as offices rather of dignity than policy. Touching the officers belonging in particular to the Queens hous- hold, I shall herein likewise much contract my self, having so amply dis- coursed of those which appertain unto the King; and the rather, in regard that in most of the subalternate, they so much resemble the one the other. Yet she hath differently one Dame cV Honneur ; of extraordinaries many more ; six Maids of Honour, twelve Chamber-maids called Filles de la Reyne: a Knight of Honor, divers Masters, Cup-bearers, and Carvers; a Chief Groom, under whom are a great many Pages and Footmen ; also Secretaries, Treasurers, &c. She hath likewise her Grand Aumosnier, and a Premier Aumosnier, Ecclesiasticks, and the like, as before was said of the King. And now having surveied the principal Officers of the Court, I know you are ready to enquire of me where the guard of this great Monarch is all this while ? I will but only mention the Grand Prevost, at present the Mareschal d' Hoquencourt, whom I may not omit, and then I will draw them forth in their several orders. Not only the Grand Prevost is an office which extends it selfe over all the officers (already mentioned) which belong to his Majesties houshold, but it hath likewise command absolute for six leagues round about Paris, and the Court, every way, which is in truth a very great and noble ju- risdiction; besides he is judge of all causes, as well civills as criminels, which are incident in Court, and hath for this respect two Lieutenants, fifty Archers of the Kings guard, and severall other officers ; to him appertaineth the imposing of the price of bread, wine, flesh, fish, hay, oates, with sundry other very important priviledges. But behold, here comes the guard : the first which present themselves are, Le Cent Gentils Hommes, so named from their primary restriction (albeit now double in number) they are called the Kings Company, and wait on him on all days of ceremony, and like occasions. Next, The Miisqiietiers on horseback, which during the Regency have been 63 dissolved, but are now in great probability to be re-established by the King ; they were composed of one hundred and fifty horsemen, chosen out from amongst the prime youth of the chiefest families of France, and at the first instituted bv Lewis the Thirteenth, father of this present i^^te Kinescu- •' 'I. riostty in c/ioosmg King, who was so physiognomically punctual in their election, that it is """"• reported he would admit none who were of a red hair : these waited on his Majestic in person whenever he went abroad ; but after these, and the more ancient farr (who besides their Immediate attendance on the person of the King wee are to accompt as principall and solid forces of the state) are the guards of French, Scotch, and Swisse : of all whom, because those who approach neerest to the person of his Majesty are the Scotch (by an extraordinary and special good fortune, it seems, ever esteemed faithfull to this King and Crown only, for they are very neer his person, and therefore called the Guard de la Manch). I will first o'j'J'/^""^''' "'' begin with them. They consist of an hundred archers, and four ex- ^^"'"''• empts, who carry a stafFe or truncheon in stead of an halberd, with the rest, from whence they are so denominated : these wait on the King, and observe him in all motions, joyned also with some other of his Ma- jesties guards, whereof some bear halberds, others carabines, whether the King be at table, in coach, or in his bedchamber. But this guard of Scots, as sympathizing with the calamity of this nation, is of late Dmiyo/the years very much impaired, divers French suborned in their places, and ' ' '""" ' many of their priviledges lost and infringed, insomuch as it seems at present to retain rather a name than a real being. The Swisse (for being likewise strangers) I produce in the next CumdofSwisse. place : the guard of this grim nation is composed of sixteen companies ; but of these the more iminediately attending as the Kings constant guard are only an hundred of them, who all weare the Kings cloath, marching with halberds on their shoulders, drum always beating, and fife playing before his Majesty, when 'ere he stirs but into the city. Lastly, the Guard of French, called the Reg-iment des Guards, with oua,,/ o/ f. or 1 • • • • 1 II 1 Regiment d,s the Swisse (composing two entire companies) guard all the avenues and Guards. precincts of the Kings palace : they are both of them two regiments, whereof each is made up of 30 companies, consisting of two hundred men apiece, if full ; and besides these there is also another Companie 64 Cenx cTarms cavaity. Tiiie signatures of ahsolute Monmcliv. Officers of Stale. Kitu^s Revenue. fiuperinlendent tits yinauces rrr Coustumes. 7'bresariers ile V Esfargne. de Gens d' Amies, who are Cavalieres, and serve quarterly on horse- back. Thus is this great Monarch so inviron'd with men of iron whereever he goes, that one who should meet him abroad, though but upon the most ordinary occasion, would suppose them an army marching rather to defend or invade some distressed province, then the private guard only of a Princes person ; so carefuU have the Kings of France ever been to maintain this principle of greatnesse and security, the very quintessence certainly of true polity, and infalllblest signatures of an absolute jurisdiction. It would now peradventure be thought proper here to speak next of the Militia, having already placed the guards, who indeed compose so considerable a part thereof; but because wee have now done with the Court, we will in the next cast our eyes upon the State, and afterwards secure it. But first a word or two touching the Kings Revenue and Counsel ; as being the very nerves and pillars of all earthly grandeur. The ordinary revenue of the Kings of France is extremely uncertain, albeit vastly augmented within these late few years, and (besides from the domains formerly engaged to the Crowne) are infinitely increased by the doiianes tallies, and other customes arising upon all manner of merchandize ; a treasure altogether uncertain, and therefore imposed still as occasion requireth, and at the pleasure of the King. In order to this, are established severall grand officers, of whom in order, first. The Superintendent of the Finances, equivalent to our (jfifo?zf/amLord High Treasurer, and officers depending on him. This is he who doth absolutely dispose of the farmes and customs of the King, hath the charge and dispensation of the revenues ; in short, it is a place so immensly lucrative, and prodigiously rich (as being obnoxious to no Account) that there is no man able to make a just estimate of their gaine. Subordinate to him are four other Intendents, and as many Trea- surers de VEspargne, whereof one of each wait every month, and these are those great financiers who suck the very bloud of the people ; for which (like the Jewish Publicani their brethren) they are sufficiently blasphemed by them upon all occasions. 65 The Tresoriers de V Espa7'gne (which are as Chancellours of the Ex- chequer, have an alternative office ; because the number of them is not alwayes certain), places of that vast revenue, that they are frequently sold at no less than a million of livres : for this the Espargne is resem- bled to the ocean sea, into which, like so many rivers, all the other receipts, generall and particular, of the Kings revenue, do praecipitate themselves, and pay their tribute. From hence all other the treasures, as well ordinary as extraordinary, of the wars, Generals of the Provinces, Maritime Officers, Payers of Publick Rents, Courts, receive money, and advance for their several and respective distributions. There are likewise besides these, the Treasurers of the Parties '^''•^ Treasurers of the Parties Casuelles, who are four : these have charge to receive all monies pro- (-usueiies. ceedlng from the sale of offices (which is a gain here openly avowed). But that which much countervails the inconvenience of their casualties, unto which they are incident is, that though a man deposit a vast summe, and even exhaust him self for the purchase, they are yet here- ditary, so that even the widow of the defunct may delep-ate it to a ^''"'"' '^'^'" ''*- '' ./ o reditary even to deputy or proxy, the King only reserving a small annual rent, which ""''"""■ ""d how. they call La Paulet ; in default of which payment, or that the person die without having resigned his office, these Treasurers dispose of it to the Kings use and benefit. The Comptrouler-General des Finances, his office it is to register all ComytmUeryGt- . 1 /> I • • • neraloft/ieCus- receqjts and expences ; but, tor the present, it remanies extnict. tomes. These Ti'easurers are distributed into Generalities or Jiureaux (so Bureaux unrt ce- called from a stuff of that name which covereth a table, as our Exche- quer) ; the Generalties are twenty-two great cities, and each of those have their generall and particular Receivers, which last bring the monies of the Tallies (which certain elected officers impose or assesse ^'"^'' ^ r are co upon the parishes) unto the respective collectors who receive it : and these at Paris render It into the office aforesaid. The ancient Kings of France had other wayes then these to subsist. Kings of f, a„ee • \ -r\ • 1 1 T-« • ■ • had other wui/s of' till Pepin and some later Princes of the third line, so much aup;mented ""''"^iinit mi ' _ . ^'"o Pej.ia. the domalne of the Crown ; as by apj)anages, which tli rough defect of issue male now revert unto it ; also by possession of lands and seignio- ries annexed to the Crown ; by rents, fifts, and other rights proceeding K ' the TaJes coiieeted. 66 ^positions b;/ from fiefs ; by impositions and dues which are payable by edicts ; by a number of lands who owe faith and do homage to the Prince ; by the Dioicid'/fubfiine, Droit d'^iibame, by which the ffoods of strang-ers dvine; in France death of strangers, •111 IT" . . , . hastardii.iacin- most inhospitablv cschcat to the Kinff ; puttuip; An this respect^ no ry tinoucsh death, _ i ■' O T & V I y first-fruits and difference between them and bastards unnaturahzed. By the goods dues from Eccle- •' ^ siasttcks. vacant through death, &c. ; by annates or first fruits, dues from certain Archbishopricks and Bishopricks, to the number of 30, and more : as likewise innumerable other waves, which here it were too long to reckon up. Nor can the domain be otherwise alienated, then (as already hath been said) in case of appanages : the other upon some extraordinary and desperate necessity, as in occasion of warre, yet then also but upon condition of redemption, and tiiat they be both first verified in Parlia- ment. But these it seems of late, not sufficing the publick expences of so great a Prince and his many armies, those tailles and subsidiary assistances before mentioned have been more frequently levied ; yet The wdinarn en- pow (sincc Charlcs the Seventh) made the ordinary entertainment of the lertninmenl of the ... i -.t i . . Souidicry. souldiery. Notwithstanding the Gentry and Nobility (for these tearms fZey"."emjji of are Coincident and convertible in France), Churchmen, and their de- pendants are exempt from these contributions ; an immunity which they enjoy as a distinction, which ours of the same quality in England never so much as tasted off; so that (among us) if a person be not Nobility no ad- rlch, let him be never so well borne, the peasant is as good a man every vantage in Eng- t • r ••11 l^ll I • 1 i- i i land. wnit tor any pnviledge wnicri the other enjoys above him ; through which defect, as there remains little encouragement and reward for ancient vertue or future industry, so must it needs, in time, both utterly confound and degenerate the race of the most illustrious families, which have yet hitheito remained. The Aides, what, The Aiclcs (which I therefore the rather mention, because it was and when insti- ^ '"'"'■ instituted upon occasion of King Johns imprisonment in England) is Ml commodities uow becomc a perpetual and general) tax upon all sorts of commodities taxable in France, . . > , i-i^i i^V'li* ii uheat oneiy ex- whatcvcr, exccptitig wlieat onlv, which IS the sole individual in all France free from any impost. But that which seasons all the rest, and is indeed a principal ingre- Gabeis upon Salt, dicnt to the Kings vast revenue, is the Gabels upon Salt, which yeelds 67 this monarch more then twenty miUions of livres ; for which respect there are divers officers appertaining thereto, some whereof have power to constrain men to huy a certain quantity of the King whether they JOgour of exact- will or no ; a rigour some interpret extremely approaching the very height of extortion : some particular places yet of the kingdome (as towards the frontiers and sea-towns) are exempted, and have their salt quit of any Impost at all. These are in fine the most prlnclpall quar- ries from whence this Monarch dlggs forth and fetches his treasure and revenue, which those who are yet thought to have made a favourable audlte, do not blush to affirm, amounts unto more then an hundred and fourty millions of livres, which is about fourteen millions of our ^^.^"ilT™,""! mony : nay some, that in Cardinal Rlchlieus time it was brought to "'"**''''■''"«• an hundred and fifty : which portentous and monstrous treasure, toge- ther with the management and manner of enacting it, might (as some think) serve a little to extenuate that which was yet thought a propor- tion too large for a most excellent Prince, whose whple revenue could never yet be stretched to above one million sterling in all, viis et mudis. Which is some thirteen short of that which the Kings of France at present enjoy. Now ere we define the more distinct Ministers of State, wee will first supream Coun- speak severally of the Supream Counsels, which are two. The chief is called the Secret (or more frequently) le Conseil cVen hault, that is (after a« Consdid'en- our old Eno;lish stile) the Cabinet Counsel, because it is commonly (omnei are tiui held m the Kings bedchamber ; for which respect you may reasonably Prmciojcnndi, ^ . ^ the Curdinal, an, imao-lne it to be composed but of few, and those the prime and most -i principal Sece ^ ^ ' ... t'^ries of State. illustrious persons of charge and title in the kingdome : so that (accord- ing to tile nature of affaires) it is sometimes reduced unto two or three only : but upon intelligences and transactions of State, as those which concern matter of warr, forrain alliances, &c. then there is a fuller number of other Ministers required to be present. The other Conseil is termed le Conseil cVEstat et Priv(^, where, t'"^ counsel nf ' ' State. when the King himself sits not, the precedency is given to the first Prince of the Blood then present ; and in default of their absence, to the Chancellour, who, together with the Treasurer or Superintendent, hath principal authority in all those Courts I have, or shall speak of; nd 68 and this Court (besides the above named, who are chief) is composed of many Counsellours of State, who are all persons of great merit, and commonly such as have given signal testimonies of their abilities and addresse by their long services; as Ambassadors and Orators to forraign Princes ; or officers in other jurisdictions and counsels : also to this Court appertaine foure Secretaries that serve quarterly ; eighteen Mais- tre de Requests, who (according to the nature of the affaire} with the Intendents, make the Reports, having first resolved the businesse amongst themselves, according to which the arrest is sometimes given. In tiiis Counsell passe all matters belonging either to warr or peace, and all other concernements of the Crown whatever; for here they determine definitively ; which judgment so passed, is termed an Arrest or Act of Counsell : howbeit, in causes of high consequence they are often revoked both from this Tribunall (yea, and the Parliament it self also) unto the Conseil cVen-hault, although a Counsell but of a later initiation. Branches from this are also the Counsell of the Finances, or The omnseiiof CustoDis, Called tlic Couiiccl of Dircctiou, where all the affaires of the liirection. Exchequer are disposed. Likewise the Chancellor holdeth another The Counsell of Counscll, Called the Conseil des Pdrties, wherein the processes of parti- cular parties and recusations have their proper hearing : and to this also belong Quarterly Secretaries apart. Now the manner of proceeding in these Courts goes according to the disposition of the severall affairs, by the reports made ready, reformed, and first signed, which is by them, then by the Chancellor, if it be at the Counsell of Parties ; if at the Finances, by the Duke of Orleans, Mons"" the Prince, and Superintendents, who deliver them to iXxa grejfiei' or clerk, by whom they are to be allowed, that is, paragraphed in parch- ment, to which they subjoyne a commission, which is sealed by the Chancellor, it thev are to be immediately executed. Other Arrests ano Acts of Counsel are executed by an Usher or Sergeant of the Counsel, who wears a chalne of gold about his neck, with a raedail pendent, wherein there is impressed the Kings picture. There is likewise another Councell, called the Grand Conseil, in which also the Chancellor presides virtually, though seldom present in person : and this is composed of four Presidents, and a hundred and Parlies The rnontier of proceeding in these Courts. Grand Conseil, 69 fifty Counsellers, who serve by semestre : and this Court is chiefly, and indeed only conversant in affaires ecclesiastical, such as concerne bishop- ricks, priories, hospitals, &c. collation and presentation to benefices in the jurisdiction either of King or Pope within this realme ; and there- fore here is the Kings Advocate and Proctor-General continually attending. And now (returning to our former division) we may remember that the more ancient Officers of the Crown were likewise three : viz. the Connestable, the Mareschal, and the Chancellor. 1 shall forbear a while to speak much of the two first, till I come to treat particularly concerning: matters of warr : we are now in affaires of State and Justice, offfee" of state o ■" and Justice. wherein this last in our division as chlefe and soveraign ; his office is to dispatch and modifie all the graces and gifts of the King; is Keeper of ^""^f""' "-^ the Great Scale, with which bee confirmes all the ordinances, edicts, declarations, and pleasure of his Majesty; for which respect he hath in Parliament his seat on the left hand of the King, when he is there pre- sent. But there are no dayes properly designed for sealing ; that Days and m.mne, wholly depending upon the will of the Chancellour. The manner thereof is this : the Chancellour sits at the middle of a large table, upon which is placed a cabinet or colTer (wherein there is locked all the publick seals of France), the key of which he carries about his neck : at the end of this table are two Masters of Requests, with whom he may advise in case the affaire require it ; and over against the Chan- cellour one of the four Referendaries of France, who reads all the letters, . arrests, and other expeditions, which, if approved, are accommodated with yellow wax, fitting and ready for the seale, and so put up into a box to be controuled by the Kings Secretaries, who must first allow and paragraph them, and then they are sealed : for expedition of highest consequence, as treaties, edicts, abolitions, &c. in green wax ; but the seals of Dauphine are in red. Moreover the character of the Chancellour is esteemed so sacred and inviolable, that it remains altogether indeleble but by death onely : yet notwithstanding upon decadency or disgrace Guard d,-: with the King, there is commonly one called Garde des Sceaiix, who executeth his charge, and hath also the same authority ; for the scales may be taken away at his Majesties pleasure, but not the Chancelor- 70 Secrelaiies of Stale. Masters nf Re- qiieili. Parliament of France. ship, which as it is never to dye but with his person, so may he not put on mourning for the King hlmseU", his father or mother, if any of them decease, as being insensible of all other relations, and considerations besides the sole interest of the people ; his habite is a robe of black velvet doubled, or lined with crimson plush ; before him goe two searA jeants with chains of gold, who bear two rich maces of gold on their shoulders. The Secretaries of State and commands of the King are four in num- ber ; whose functions, for being diflferent, deserve to bee mentioned in the next place. One of these Secretaries is for expeditions altogether forraign : one for affaires Ecclesiasticall and Benefices ; a third for matters only appertaining to the Kings house, and the fourth serves for affairs and concernements of war; and thus have they the whole Kingdom so cantoniz'd betwixt them, that upon all particular exigen- cies of the Provinces, every one knows his division. In Court and pre- sence of the King, they walte alternatively by months; for he uses them likewise in affaires of the cabinet, which, for not being matter of state, hee will not have made known or divulged. Lastly, the Masters of Requests (of whom there are at present no lesse then seventy) are as it were Assessors of the Chancellour, and compose the body of the Court of Parliament (of which we shall shortly speak), and have their seats next to the Counsellers, but not exceeding four at a time. In absence of the Presidents, they preside also in many other Judicatures and Bailliages : these make report and sign the Re- quest of Justice, and sometimes the affaires of the Exchequer : they are likewise many times chosen for Extraordinary Embassades, as well as Commissioners for his Majesty in the Cities and Provinces, where they judge and determine upon all affairs of the Crowne, with most ab- solute power and authority. The rest of the officers more immediately belonging to the Kings Revenue I have touched at large already. I come now to the Parlia- ments of France, of whom there hath hitherto been so much talke. The Justice of France (in the equal dispensation whereof should be the glory and diadem of a Prince in Peace, as is the multitude of people n his visible strength in warr) is doubtlesse very good, but wonderfully ill executed, which happens through the sordid corruption of such as dispense it for mony and favour, without which there is nothing to be hoped for in this kingdom : and good reason there should bee some gaine made of that which the dividers thereof buy so dear, purchasing their places and offices at such excessive charges, that thev are con- strained to sell their vertue to him who bidds most for it. But this is not (I suppose) the only monopoly which drives that trade. Philip the Faire established the Parliament of Paris; ffor before it Hywhomesta- • ... Wished. was ambulatory, and onely observed the motion of the King) whither both Ecclesiasticks and Seculars repaired. As it is now constituted, it is composed of five houses or chambers : La Grand Chambre hath /.« Crmtd chum- r n\ II 1 • r rr • c \ • \ hre des Enquests. twenty-five Counsellors, who take cognisance of afiairs of highest con- sequence : and of five Cliamhres des Enquests, to either of which there is also about the same number of Counsellers : likewise two other chambers, one whereof is called La Tournelle, wherein are pleaded only La Toumeiie. matters criminall, composed of two Counsellors of the Grand Chambre, and of two of every Chambre des Enquests. The Chambre de V Edict De v Edict jm the that is, of the Edict of Nantes, which only toucheth the affaires of the Protestants, and is also composed of two Counsellers out of each of the six other Chambers, who are nominated every second year bv the Chancellour and the Protestant deputy generall. In the great Chamber presideth the President auMor tier, who pre- p,esid,mau senteth the ancient Dukes and Peers : these Presidents are Counsellers ihe're'ZaJetTa of State the first day of their reception, and have about their neck an j'aMono/amorter hood of velvet, lined with furr, from whence some affirme they derive of the arms in their name : they are now in number seven or eight, having of late andkeimet. been encreased. To all the other Chambers of Parliament there are likewise Presi- presidents, Om- dents : viz. two at the Tournelle, and one at the Edict. To each and"procieur". *' Cha7nbre des EnquSsts are two, but these last for being only commis- sionated Counsellers, have no places as Presidents in full assemblies of Parliament. Besides Presidents and Counsellers, there is moreover a 72 Clerk of the Par- liament. Robts oftlie offi- cers of Partia- ment. Arrests of Pari. when pronounced. C'iiies besides Pans, that have Parliaments. In what they dif- fer from the Pari, of Paris. Procureur, and two Advocates General, who intervene in all causes which concern either the King or State ; besides an infinity of other advocates, who are rather to count by multitudes then numbers established, only the Proctors have of late years been reduced to about 600. There is likewise a G7'effier en Chef, or Clerk of the Parliament, one of the most lucrative charges of France, as esteemed to be no lesse worth then an 100 crowns of gold a day. This office having now suc- cessively remained in the family of Monsieur du Tillet neer three hun- dred years, we could not passe his name in silence ; lastly, of Com- mises, Searjeants, Ushers, and under officers, there are in very great numbers. All the officers of Parliament wear a long gown and square cap, but the Presidents au Hlortier and Counsellours, upon solemn occasions, put on robes of scarlet which are trimmed with black velvet. The solemne Arrests or Acts of Parliament are pronounced four times in the year : viz. on Christmas Eves eve, on the Tuesday before Easter, on Whitson Eves eve, and the seventh day of September till which, from the morrow after the feast of St. Marline it continues ; but the Parliament doth not open until such time as the King renews their commission. There are, besides Paris, these nine cities which have Parliaments, 1 Toulouse, 6 Aix. 2 Rouen. 7 Rheims. 3 Bourdeaux. S Pau. 4 Dijon. 9 Mets. 5 Grenoble. Whose constitution and composition are alike to that of Paris, ex- cept that of Mets and Rouen, whose President and Counsellers of late serve semestraly , that is halfe during one six months, and halfe the other : some of the Parliaments also have no chamber of Edict, as Rheims and Dijon ; so that the Protestants of those parts repaire to Paris to plead ; and in Toulouse, Bourdeaux, and Grenoble, for default thereof, those of the religion have established them Chambers Mipar- 73 ties that is, of equal numbers of Romanists ; nor have the other Par- liaments so many Chambers of Enquests, as not (in truth) needing them. Likewise this Prerogative hath the Parliament of Paris, that it hath Preroiraiue n/ the P. tif Puns. the sole honour to be called the Court of Peers ; for here only can they of right be judged; yet this privlledge was not able to protect them, at what time the late great Cardinal de Richlieu made bold to infringe it, when it served to his purpose. In all these Parliaments aforesaid the Advocates plead covered, but How tiu: Advocates the Proctors both bareheaded and kneeling. plead Moreover, the businesse of the Parliament, besides the verifying of the Kings edicts, ordinances, and letters patents (as hath been already touched), is the dispensing of all other justice civill and criminall: here the appanages of the Crown are regulated, the erection of new dignitaries, modification of the Popes Legats, commissions, procedures to banishment, letters of naturalty, pardons, and the like supream trans- actions of State have their genuine and naturall source. The Bishops in Parliament have right of place, but no deliberative Bishops mid Ec- 1 O I ' clesiasticks in voice, except only the Archbishop of Paris, and Abbot of Saint Denvs. ''«'''«'™f'" ''«ff ' r y r ' J"' place, no deliber- Thus much shall suffice to have been spoken touching; the Parliaments. "'";« ™'^5. '^•'- r O • cept B. of Paris, The Chamber of Compts (which comes next in order) is a jurisdic- "Cents'"" "'^^ tion and court apart, that concernes and iudg-es the accompt of all the Oiambe,- of ^ ^ ... Compts, its high Receivers, Treasurers, and Officers paid into, or received out of the Kings ""<^»"'* "'"^ * ' O number. Exchequers, for which cause all their letters, edicts, ordinances, &c. are read, registred, and verified. Here it is that homage for feifs mov- ing from the Crown are acknowledged. It hath belonging to it ten Presidents, Monsieur Nicolas, who is the first (having from father to son conserved this charge neer two hundred years in his family), hath refused for his charge 1 ,400,000 livres, which the late D'Emery offered him for it. To it also appertaineth seventy Maistres des Compts, eighty Auditors : in fine, it is a court of that high authority, that it hath sometimes stood ev'Sn in competition with the Parliament itself. There are eight of these in France. Besides this court, there are likewise the chambers de< two Chambres des Requests du Palais, where is pleaded the priviledg ^'f^"".'* '" r4 Cmirs des Man- nrrj/es. Mint Admiralty and Table de Marbre. Ifalers and Farrests. Military nfficers, andfirst the Con- nestable of h'. The D. of Orleans is as it were Con- nestable now. Mareschala de Fr. of the royall offices and household ; and therefore they consist of coun- sellers of Parliament, &c. The Coitr des Monnot/es, composed of three Presidents, twenty-four Counsellors : these concerne the Mint in all particulars. Also the Admiralty, called the Table de Marbre, instituted for mari- time affaires. And, lastly, JLes Eaux and Forrests, with some other inferiour courts, whereof we have already sufficiently spoken elsewhere. And so I am come out of Westminster-hall to the other two of our three ancient officers, viz. the Connestable and Mareschall of France, being the last of our division, and will naturally lead us to discourse something of the Militia. The Connestable, albeit an office, to a greater then which the King himself can promote no subject, yet for that it is not a charge which is always in being, but upon extraordinary emergencies and grand occa- sions, will be needlesse to say more of it, then that this office holdeth ranke immediately after the Princes of the blood ; and in Parliament it is before the Dukes and Pairs : the Connestable therefore is chief, superlour, and generalissimo over the armies of France, for which respect he hath bis jurisdiction in the Court of the Table de Marbre ; but at this day the Marescbals supplying this high office (although properly speaking, but his Lieutenants) come next to be spoken of. The Mareschals de France, or rather, so many Generals, are the onely persons of enterprise and action in their armies, both at home and abroad ; being commonly men who are elevated to those charges, purely by their own valour and merits ; so that as their number is inde- terminate, so there is no soiildier, of what condition soever, but may possibly by his vertue aspire to this preferment. I said even now that their jurisdiction did much resemble that of the Connestables ; nor can they be devested of this honour during their lives. Before these Mare- schals are determined all matters of private quarrels and defies incident to the Noblesse ; for which cause they have their Provosts or Lieutenants in all the greatest cities of the kingdome. They bear in their atchieve- ments a truncheon salterwise azure, semeed with flower de lyces or. 75 Finally (which is the last part of our division), the three modern J-^astdivimm. offices of Crown, viz. 1. The Admiral of the French. 2. Le Colonel de I'lnfanterie. 3. Le Grand Maistre de rArtillerie, In the first place the Admiral (who holds likewise his place during Admiraii. life) is Generall of all the Kings forces by sea, and under him are all the marine jurisdictions. The charge hath in times past been divided unto more, both Guyenne and Provence having enjoyed theirs apart ; but the defunct Cardinall de Richlieu (who hath left this high office to his nephew) united them all under one : his jurisdiction also is at the Table de Marbre, where (for being but subalternate judges) their places in Parliament is at the lower end. The charge Is now in the person of the Queen Recent, some say the Duke of Vendosme ; likewise the General des General des Galeres hath here his seate, which is a place of very nota- ble gaine and authority on the coasts of the Mediterranean seas, where his Majesties gallies do both harbour and ride. Next is the Colonel of the French infantry, which is a charge one Coionei 0/ the in- •^ . . fantry. of the most considerable in all respects of France, especially for gain, receiving eight solz every muster for each souldiers head, his authority being generally over all the French-foot, and hath for his Lieutenant- colonels the Maistres de Camp : under his name issue all ordinances Masters 0/ the . Camp. 01 warr. There is likewise a Colonel General des Suisses, who hath jurisdic- aionei General tion over all those mercenaries, as well those of the Kings guard, as those who serve in the field and in the garlson ; of which there are con- stantly about eight thousand in this dominion. Last of all, the Grand Maistre de VArtillerie, which is a charge Grand Maistre equal with a Mareschall of France : under his tuition and conduct is the arsenall of Paris, all the cannon and ammunition of warre in the kingdome, for which cause he hath his Lieutenants, Captains, and other officers belonging to the carriages in great number : besides all this, he hath the management of five millions of livers, together with the arbitrary disposition of above eight hundred officers ; of all which he is obliged to no particular accompt. des Suisses. de VArtillerie. 7Q Grand Primrde There IS Hkewise the Grand JPrieur de France, w\\ic\\ for beino: a France. Mr. of , ^ , , , °. the Religion of quality of high reputation is not to be pretermitted. The Mastership of the Religion and Order of Malta, for the French, being not lesse worth than 10,000 pounds yearly : his ordinary residence is at the Temple, a quarter in the town of Paris, as is that of ours in London so called. CouTueiio/mrr. The Counccl of Warr is commonly held in the Palace of the Duke of Orleans, as being Lieutenant General of all the Kings forces, and therefore little remote (as hath been said) from the dignity and charge of High Connestable. Thus we have done with the courts and officers of France : now wee will take a prospect of the Forces. Comiani armies The King of Francc hath commonly four armies in field ; viz. that of France. . of Flanders, of Germanic, of Italy, and that of Catalogna ; wherein the King, Queen, Monsieur, the Duke of Anjou, the Duke of Orleans, Princes of the Blood, and Mareschals of France, have their severall and individuall companies, whose Lieutenants enjoy many singular pre- cedencies above other officers of the armies : all those consist of well armed horse. Light horse and Xhc lii>ht horsc are at present commanded bv the Master of the other forces under ~ I J eoniinuaiipay. Camp. The King hath commonly under pay about a hundred and forty Cornets of cavalry, distributed into 56 regiments, besides of strangers, twelve : of infantry, the King hath two hundred and ten, whereof some regiments have thirty companies, and every company payed for eighty men effijctive. Moreover his Majestic hath divers regiments of stran- gers, whereof enough hath been said in the beginning. Armada Naval. The Avmada NttVttl may be composed of about twenty men of warr, and as many gallies ; I have shewed you before how these forces are payed, and therefore we will proceed to the Governours of the Provinces, as being likewise men of armes. Governoursrf fhe Govcmours of Provinccs have their commissions Avhich are Provinces, Cities, V and Ports. simple, and depending on the pleasure of the King) verified in Parlia- ment, where they have their seats next after the premiers Presidents : they are in some degree equivalent to our Lieutenants of the Shire, but exercise a much more vigorous power, which is yet restrained to mat- ters of armes ; for in other justice they meddle not at all. So likewise 77 the governors of cities, fortresses, and places of strength, all which are chosen of persons of blood, valour, and merit. But before we alto- gether quit this subject of armes, it will not be impertinent to say somthing here of the Order of Knighthood in France. I shall not much amuse you with those orders which are so far anti- orders of chevai- quated, that even the heralds themselves can scarcely render us any certain accompt : Such is that which is named de la Genette, insti- tuted by Charles Martel, or the Order de VEstoile by King John, the 07'der of the Croisant, Pore Espic, nor much concerning the Order of insiuuied ueg , - . . J J fcy Lewis the Ele- Samt Michael it self, although not many ages since hrst instituted, and venth. for a long while the principal Order in the Kingdome; composed but of 36, because (as the manner of this nation is to be as soon weary of their new inventions, as children are of rattles) they begin to have this Order already in contempt ; albeit the chain and pendent badg be oid>e dc s. nn- commonly reserved in the coat armours, together with that which is now in vogue, and next ensues. L'Ordre du S. Esprit was instituted on new years day, anno 1579, %^",^";;^,;^" by Henry the Third, and honoured with that name, because he was both born and afterwards elected King of Polonia on Whitsunday : this Prince restrained the number also to thirty-six ; but that is likewise as indefinite as it pleases the King : however, it remaines yet the Order of greatest esteem, and therefore let us look a while upon the ceremonies of the Inauguration. The day of their reception they appear all in cloath of silver, their Reception. cloaks (especially their caps) cut a I'antique, of black velvet ; which they put off and change, to receive on them a robe of green velvet full of embroydred tongues of fire : then remaining on their knees, the King takes their hands between the palmes of his own, striking them lightly upon the shoulder, and kisses their cheeke. Ordinarily they wear a flame or orange colour crosse of velvet upon o>i'r. the left side of their cloakes, in the midst whereof is embossed a dove of silver, and about it a glory of rayes, like that which our Knights of the Garter in England do wear, as having first assumed that mode from the French ; albeit for antiquity of the Order, ours stands much before it. 78 Stale Hierarchi- cal. Archhishopi and Buhoys. L'Eglise Gain- cane. Present Govern- nient of Fiance. Q. fie^ent. Card. Ulazorini, About their bodies likewise they wear a blew ribbon which of late they have watered, and at the end of that a crosse of gold, in the midst whereof there is ennamailed a white dove : and this is all which I finde observable. We have been hitherto very silent of the State Ecclesiastlck in par- ticular, which, although it come last in order, yet was it one of the first in mine intention, as consisting of persons who, besides their qualities both for extraction and letters, possesse alone one third part of the total revenue of France. The Arch Bishops of this kingdom are in number fifteen, whereof he of Lyons is the Primate and Metropolitan, and some of these be Peers Blshopricks, two hundred and one. Of this Hierarchy is composed V Eglise Gallicane, which by the concordats made with the Pope, hath sundry rights and priviledges extraordinary, which, but for that they are not much incident to our discourse, we will purposely omit, and content ourselves with what hath been briefly spoken. Having thus, as 1 was able, finished my designe and your request, with what succlnctnesse and perspicuity I might (for herein I am obliged to some relations, more discourses, and a little experience), I will make bold (the better to let you understand the full nature of things as they subsist and are govern'd at present) to reassume the argument, and deliver you the best and more solid opinions of men concerning the particulars already spoken of. The Government of France doth at present rather totter then stand, upon the late great Cardinals substruction; the Queen Regent having ever since his decease continued in the princlpall ministry of state affairs her favourite Mazarini, a person of (to speak with the world) far greater fortune then either extraction or vertue ; however he hath steered this great vessell of Monarchy a long time, and that amidst so many stormes, and in such foul weather, as whether his craft or courage exceeds, it is not yet decided; certaine it is, that as he hath longer held in then by some wise men it was judg'd he could, so some late actions of his (interpreted to have been ingratefull enough) make others daily confident of his absolute ruine : and in truth, he doth play so hazardous "if 79 a game at present, that as the hand is universally turned, it were great odds to lay on confusions side, so prodigious a fatality now threatning Princes, that if France compose not suddenly, these calamities, I am confident, will epidemically visite Europe for a time. And why it should be that this active nation have endured so many strangers to governe them thus in chief I am much to seek for a reason, when I steadily behold the universal promptnesse of the Noblesse ; unlesse peradventure, to avoid emulation at Court 'twixt so many greater Princes and Subjects, . «* as might else pretend to highest authority, they rather submit them- selves to the meanest alien. But this by way of glosse and species, not opinion. The subtill have ever been too hard for the simple : and though the law deny women succession to the Crown, yet the fate of the kingdome, and addresses of the sex, furnish'd them a title which /^ '/ hath fully recompensed for that injury. ^■A'^ The Noblesse of France comprehend the Gentry, under one and the Noblesse of . J , . . . T^- J /- France, md same common term ; nor indeed is there in any Jvingdome (save ours Gentry the same onely) that severe distinction of minores and majores amongst the Nobility ; a dift'erence which some think neither suits with true policy or justice. But quitting this decision to whom it belongs, we are (as I said) in this dominion to take the Noblesse (that is the Gentry) for the sole visible body, and consequently the Plebeians of a far more vile Plebeians, their . *' , • . misery. and naturally slavish genius, then they really are in any part of Chris- tendome besides ; which meannesse of spirit I easily conjecture to have been long since contracted from the over severity and liberty of their superiors ; their incomparable poverty, and excessive oppression. Other Immunities, besides the fore rehearsed, which the Noblesse enjoy in France is, that with their pensions and governments, they are like- wise exempted from all contributions upon their own demains ; which doth so far oblige them to their Prince, that there are none which ren- der him such real and considerable service, upon all urgent and brisk Service the xm- Ji/~i '11 i'i"r> 1 '''^ "^ France occasions, as do the Gentry ; especially, at what time the Ban and yietd their Princc. Arrler-ban be summoned to their several assignations: and to this Ban and .irrier. ... . ban. heroique life of the field they are generally addicted, as being thereto chevairy, their excellently disciplined from their very cradles; by which means, cer- ""/"^ «"«'«• tainly they become the best esteemed, and most adroict cavalry of Eu- 80 rope ; nor doth this early education of them abroad prejudice the State at home ; for being kept and dissevered from projecting of commotion m^f'^um^ros- ^" ^^^ countrj, their rebeUIons have been for the most part, though and'Zhu f"'"" ' frequent, yet improsperous, so considerable a party ever remaining with the Prince, whose personal presence with them in the field, gives an extraordinary life and loyalty to their actions. . Commons, their As touchlng the Plebeians or Roturiers of France ; truly I esteem them /itigious nature in *-^ ■' France. for the most miserable objects that one may likely behold upon the face of the earth ; especially those which live towards the frontiers, so Im- measurably exhausted by taxations, gabels, impositions, spoyls, and contilbutlons, unto which they are generally obnoxious. The rest of the two first estates, together with all their dependants, living onely upon their revenues, remain free and exempt; but that which addes not a little to their ruin Is (for all this) their extraordinary litigious nature, and vindicative disposition, especially those of Normandy, Bretagne, Gascogny, and Provence ; so that, what with the premises, delay of their process, and the abominable corruption of Justice, this rank of people seldom or never arrive to any considerable fortune or competency, Farmers in by their own wit or industry, as do so many of our Yeomen and Farmers England. • ' T^ j ... m England. By these means also, their spirits becoming so abjectly debased, they are not able to afford their Prince that ready service in matter of armes, as Indeed their multitudes and necessities both promise and require. To supply which defect In all expeditions of consequence, juxiiiariesinike the Klng^ makcs usc of the Gascons and Biscalans, who belnp; bred French armies. '-' ' O about the confines and frontiers of Spain, are much the better soldiers, and esteemed for the best infantry of France ; as also of the Dutch, Scotch, Irish, Italian, and others, in whom together with the Suisse (a most principall Ingredient) consisteth their greatest foot confidence ; the more considerable part whereof being mercenary auxiliaries, and very frequently left In great arrears, might peradventure administer to politicians sufficient cause of suspltion and discourse; but the event having hitberto, for many ages past, been nothing prejudicial, takes away any farther occasion of dispute. Fra^""^"" ""^ '^'^^ people of Trade and Mechanlcks, are nothing so contemptible as the common sort, of whom we have spoken a little, many of them 81 living very decently and handsomly in their houses, especially the better sort of merchants, who are better furnished then the rest; how- Merchants. beit, in competition with our country-men of the same quality, to be esteemed, in truth, but as mean mountebanks and inconsiderable pedlers. Those of greatest wealth and commerce, being some crafty Italian or Portuguese, who (during the time of the late and present Cardinal) have amassed very considerable estates and great riches. And here we may properly observe, that no gentleman will in France binde his youngest son to any trade or mechanique calling whatever, under that of a military life, as esteeming every apprentisage and subjection, a jpprentisage . . , 1 !• • c \ • e •^ in counted a diminu- stain and dimumtion to the honor and dignity ot his family; the hke Honofhonovin ... . I ii- France. also they for the most part observe in their marriages and alliances ; but herein the German is most religious. The Nobility and Gentry of this kingdom differ much from the garb NMiiiies,garbei>f . . . N • I 1 living in France. of living in England, both within (and till of late) without doors ; they have many of them vast estates, either in lands or offices ; the revenues whereof they chuse rather to spend at Paris, and other great cities, in a specious retinue of coaches, pages, and laquaies, then suffer them- selves to be eaten up at home, in the country, in the likenesse of beef and mustard, among their unthankful neighbours. This affection of theirs to reside for the most part in the cliief towns of the kingdom, is the reason why the Corporations are little considerable, as not daring corporatmis to be brewing and hatching such factions, as where the Gentry and civiller sort of mankinde are universally given to solitary and unactive lives in the country. Besides, the gentlemen are generally given to those laudable mag-nificencies of buildinp;, and furnishing their palaces ji/ngmjicmce of with the most precious moveables, much ot the luxe and excesse of Gentry. Italy being now far entred amongst them, as may well serve to exem- plifie, when in the Dutchess of Chaulmes her palace neer the Place Royal in Paris, the pennaches or tufts of plumes belonging to one of her beds onely, are estimated worth fourteen thousand livers, which amount to neer a thousand pounds sterling of our money. Every great person who builds here, however qualified with intellec- Great prttendirs tuals, pretends to his elaboratory and library ; for the furnishing of which last he doth not much amuse himself in the particular elections M 82 of either authors or impressions ; but having erected his cases and measured them, accords with a stationer to furnish him with so many gilded foHos, so many yards of quartos and octavos by the great, till his bibliotheke be full of volumes. And yet some of them, both have excellent books, and are very polite scholars ; but the Noblesse do not naturally so addict themselves to studie, as the gown-men do; account- ing it a life so contemplative and below their spirits, that no gentle- mans necessity whatsoever shall easily engage him to seek any support I'hyskk and Law either by Phvslck or Law; both which professions are Tas in truth they 'nspised by the J J I ^ J Vouiuy of France, highly merit) in very laudable esteem and reputation amongst us in England. Hale Ecciesi- ^^^ State Ecclcslastlck ('comprehending that of the rellp-lon) is of ittstick oj France. VI O O y Protestants. two sorts ; the greater part whereof being Pontificlans, and the Pro- testants, commonly called those of the religion (and by them with this adjunct, pretendice reform^e), who exercise the doctrine and discipline of Geneva. lioman Cathoiichs ^fhe Roman Cathollcks of France are nothing so precise, secret, and 7 France, how " ' key. nffer from biprotlsh as are either the Recusants of England, Spain, or Italy; but theis oJ the same is ^ ' i. ' j ■ .ciigion. 3pg fpj. jj^g most part an indifferent sort of Christians, naturally not so superstitious and devout, nor in such vassallage to his Hollnesse as in other parts of Europe, where the same opinions are professed ; which indlfferency, whether I may approve of or condemn, 1 need not declare here. Prntesiants, how j\s for the Door Protestants, they are now so inconsiderable, since the ■elipsed andweak- ' 'J nedofiate. \^^q succcssbs of the Cardinal Rlchlleu, and especially our nations re- proach, and their misfortune at La Rochelle ; that for the present they possess no one place of strength, or any other singular immunity above others, as being defeated of all eminent persons, either of birth or charge, who might be able to defend or counsel them at need ; the Court having now rendered most of them proselytes by preferments, interests, or other effectual means. Howbeit, such as remain (and of which too there are likewise a very considei'able body) are permitted peaceably to enjoy their consciences, upon renovation of the late edict of pacification ; and are undoubtedly in case of any considerable rebel- lion, capable to form a very ballancing and pondrous party ; but with 83 nothing that front and confidence which within these twenty years past they might have done, when they durst even beard the King, and pro- tect such as retired to them from his displeasure, in most of his now strongest towns and places of importance ; but the scean is now much Thecausen/u. altered, and they shrewdly contracted, especially since the stir under that late and incomparable person the D. of Rohan: the folly of their own private interests, having evidently proved their fatal destruction ; as it is most frequently seen to fall out (first or last) amongst all con- Fateofdviutis. p.., J 11* • TT I fT seiisiom. trivers ot civil and popular dissentions. rlowever, thus rar 1 must utuesMsm needs vindicate the Protestants of France, that we finde not amongst "pZlisfanls, be- them those frequent schismatiques and broachers of ridiculous enthu- arSwhy"'^""' siasms as abound amongst us ; every particular so unanimously con- curring with their pastor, that, in truth, they are herein not unworthv to be commended ; though that vertue likewise were the more estima- ble, were it not certainly constrained by the vlgilancy of their anta- gonists, who watch all advantages to discompose and defame them. To be short, though they have lost many great ones and much strength, and that the form of their discipline invite few, yet the light of their attempts hath Invited so many to look into the reason of things beyond the mask of tradition and mystery of policy, that it is both thought and well known, that even divers of those who are persons of greatest eminency both in Church and State, have so good an inclination to inclinations oj I • f I • 1 • • 1 • manii great ones change some pomts or the received opmions, that were it not more out to a reformation. of secular consideration to lose their preferments, tVien any other Incon- venlency, many of them would openly profess themselves Jansenia- Jansenianists ami tC/t • • . . . . Moulimsts. nists, Moulimsts*, &c. whose opinions, as they Infinitely propagate amongst them, so do they come on a great way towards a reformation. The forces of France is that which renders It (as indeed it doth all Forces of France. other kingdoms) most formidable abroad and secure at home. The frame and positure of the Continent, situated as it were in the Mvantageous ifiii/~ii"' 11 1' r • 11 • *''^ ^ France, navel or all the Christian world, quaiiiies it to collect, unite, and dis- pose of her forces ; for it hath Spain and Italy before it, England be- hinde ; the seas upon the right, and Germany upon the left hand ; at one corner the Neatherlands, and the Cantons of the Swisse at the * So named from Cornelius Jansen, or Jansenius, Bishop of Ypres, who died May 16, 1638; and from Peter Du Moulin, a very celebrated French Protestant Minister, who died March 10, 1653. ^4 Cadfts anil young- er blathers all sol- diers of fortune . Francis the First reproached, and why. Maritime forces and Havens. Late ac'juists. Land forcet. other ; all of them potent, considerable, and active neighbors ; and where they Intermit, it is a worthy prospect to behold how nature hath served and defended her with the Pyrenes, Alps, Ocean, and Mediterra- nean Seas, whilest she sitting secure from any sabitaneous irruption or natural pretension, may well be pronounced a fair and most just empire; and especially since the later accession of Bretagne, Guvenne, Nor- mandy (once the goodly portions of the English), and Bourgogne, who are now all of them under one Prince, as having enjoyed hereto- fore every one their proper Dukes ; by whose favour or spleen there was always a facile entrance for any potent stranger to dlsturbe the rest of the Kingdom; the conseqnencies whereof have filled almost every modern Chronicle. And to the stronger twisting of this cord, such prudence hath been had of late times, that all those great and power- ful houses remain now no more divided (^as still amongst the Princes of Italy and Germany), the cadets and younger brothers minding for the most part no greater preferments then what they cut out with their sword, and merit in field by being soldiers of fortune. As for the forces by sea, as It was never great, so we do not read that ever any signal action hath been atchleved by any of their navi- gations ; for which cause, Francis the First was once pretty well resolved to make use of the Turk, and call in that stout miscreant, to the eternal reproach both of that Prince and Nation ; notwithstanding at this instant, their maritime strength is not totally so contemptible, having a very stately and considerable armada of handsom gallies in most of their Mediterranean ports, as at Toulon, Marseilles, and other places, which are vessels of excellent use and service upon those seas. On the ocean, I confess, both their shipping and traffique have been alike trivial ; and yet of late they have greatly augmented their fleet, especially since the time (to our nations egregious shame and dishonor) that they have made so large inroads and gaps into Flanders, towards the sea coasts ; witness those strong towns and havens of Dunkirk, Mardlke, &;c. stout forts and very commodious harbors for shipping; so that a little time (if we will still suffer it) may likewise furnish them with ships enough to make them stand in a bolder competition with their neighbors. But the more principal) nerve of the French power consists in his 85 forces at land ; and amongst them (as hath already been touched) chiefly his cavalry, which is a strength and spectacle both of admiration cavai,-y of France and gallantry, they being for the greater part composed of gentlemen, EurTpe" who generally so bequeath themselves to this service, that hee who (amongst them) hath not made two or three campagnas (as they use to term it) by that time he is 18 years of age, is esteemed as a person lasc/ie, that is, of a soft education and small repute : besides, the horse ^** *""' "" 1 exercise proper to is an exercise unto which they have so naturall a disposition and ad- the French youth. dresse, that the whole earth doth not contain so many academies dedi- Their academies "^ and other gym- cated chiefly to this discipline, and other martiall gymnastiques, nasticks. wherein they handsomly attain to competent perfection in whatsoever is active and proper for their youth and inclinations. And what incomparable souldlers this country hath in all ages bred, Soumery o/ 111 r t r • II- 1 P'once com- we need look out no further tor testimony, then their many past and mended. present acquisitions and enterprises, under Harcourt, Condy, Gassion, and infinite others ; besides (what is no trivial mark of our assertion), the multitudes of such who are at present imployed in the services of foreip-n Princes. Very undenyable it is that the Spanish infantry is Spanish and Fr.. o J J '■ •' infantry com- too hard for the French foot ; for the peasants of France (of whom p'"'^''- they should naturally consist) are thought (and that upon good grounds) to be more then accidentally improper and mal-adroict for that service. Howbeit, we finde (and that bv quotidian experience) that custome or something else more propitious hath much altered and reformed their natures, even in this particular instance : and for ought I perceive, they keep what they have gotten, and become as good souldiers as those who brag so much of their lovvsie and tenacious epitheton ; but I must confess how few indigene and naturall Spaniards serve now against tliem ; all the old brave foot having been for the greater part slain, or continued unrecruited at and since the signal battle of Rocroy, where (though with their own destinies) they bravely made good that general and worthy repute which the world hath of the infantry of that nation. And however, had his reproach a more solid ground, yet that j saying o/mot saying of Machiavel in his Ritrattl, that Lefanterie die si fanno in Francia non possono essere molto biione, perc/w gli ^gran tempo che non hanno avuto giierra, e per qiiesto non hanno sperienza alcuna* &c. * Ritratti delle Cose della Francia. Opere de Machiavelli, Tom. II. p. 131. ed, Firenze, 1782, 4to. 86 is now no more an argument, then that the premises being changed, the conclusion must needs remain, considering that the cause being taken awav through their present exercise and perpetual war, the effect and defect must of consequence ensue, as we have already suffi- ciently proved : or admit it were yet so, I hope the Swisse and other faithful mercenaries to that Crown, abundantly supply all these wants and prejudices, most of which, yet notwithstanding for my part, were, I think, first hired rather out of consideration of diversion, and since custom, then otherwise out of any pure necessity. That likewise which made the armies of France so inconsiderable for native foot soldiers, may with much reason too (if we please) be attributed unto Lewis the dUarmiTg'the Elcvcnth his disarming of i\\e Commons ; by which advice the King indeed became more absolute at home amongst his vassals, but a great deal less formidable abroad amongst his enemies ; and herein it was that his neighbors stood him in stead. Another thing rendring this kingdom very considerable for an army, France abundant IS, their prolifiquc multiplying; for Europe embraceth not a more victuals. populous nation, nor inore abounding in victuals, which is the belly of that cruel beast, called war ; so fertil, I say it is, that when Charles the Fift entred into France by Provence, and afterwards by Champagne, it nourished (besides the many garrisons thereof) more then an hundred and fifty thousand ravenous soldiers ; and even in the time of Charles the Sixth, there were found In this kingdom twenty thousand horse, and thirty thousand foot, all consisting of strangers ; and fifteen thousand horse, and one hundred thousand foot, all of natural French. And verily, when we have seriously surveighed the complication of enemies, which once invested this kingdom, when for extent and com- mand it was far inferior to what it is at present, since the English have been dispossessed, Navar adjoyned, and other additions of great strength : I say, when England, Germany, Spain, and Italy, invaded it on all parts, in the reign of Francis the First, as it will appear, how potent and able this kingdom united is to defend itself : so doth the consideration of it seem to me most strange, and altogether portentous. Sine of Arms, Addc to thcsc advantages, their store of good arms and munition, Ammunition, and ~ '-' Artillery. exccllcnt artillery, many famous and well furnished magazines ; in sum, 87 why should I further tire you with particulars, when their present exploits, and almost continual triumphs, have planted the flower de lyces where ever they break ground. Witness those renowned adven- indent and laie tures since Charlemaigne, St. Lewis, Charles d'Anjou, Charles the '^*""* Eighth, &c. ; whose heroicque atchievements and glorious trophies have filled all histories and countreys, even as far as Asia herself; witness their expeditions and successes at Jerusalem, in Egypt, Barbary, Cyprus, Greece, Naples, Saxony, Hungary, and sundi'y other places, even in these our times, and before our own doors ; witness all their late acquists and conquests in Catalonia, Spain, Italy, Flanders, &c. : besides the signal battels and sieges of Nordlingen, Rocroy, Perpignian, Theonvil, Arras, Dunkirk, &c. : not to repeat the miraculous, or rather ingenious reduction of La Rochel, Montpelier, and other impregnable holds appertaining to the Protestants : so that if now we see them begin to decline, and refund what they have so hastily swallowed down, it is but the fate of all humane undertakings, all things having a period The common /ate in this world, that had a beginning. t^tr^ And now, albeit the Church (who is neer a good third part of France) church nee,- a doth in most places (as the proverb goes) neither lose nor defend any Fratcr"''^ thing; yet here, in times of publick and emergent necessities, have they been made contribute most bountifully towards the maintaining of armies and supplyes. Nor are the frontiers and maritime coasts of this kingdom so ill Frontiers «nd fortified now, as in former times ; but there hath been of late so thorough liow/ZtJedat' a reformation and care had in that regard, that it were hard to call to present. minde a considerable place at present but is capable to support a long and strenuous resistance ; especially those harbours and keys of the country which respect our coasts ; as Haver, Calais, Dieppe, and divers other places of importance. In fine, France is at this present grown to that stature, so well stateo/Fr: planted, and commodiously laid to it self, that (but for their own mad- "''"'""" ' nesse, and the feared fate of these times, which already begins to work) in the reall interest and balance with her neighbours, it were high time she were now a httle observed, and a non-ultra fixed unto her proceed- "'sf^ '">«: that , r a non ultra wei ings and future aspirings : nor doubt I at all, but if the Low Countries •^"V*" ultra were to her greatnesse. 88 The greatness of Spain suspicious, and how far it concerns us. The humour of the Spaniards likened. Englands best bulwark and ba- lance. Qu. Elizabeths policy. Danger in the yiccession of the how Countries to Fr. That the.Spaniari! Jiath no pretence to alienate tlie French subjects, by his instruments the Jesuits, and why. Genius andnuture of the people. Ctcsars sat/ing of the GallUnsubres. were able to preserve her neutrality, but England with Spain (as poor and contemptible as she is now grown) may one day so exercise this ambitious kingdom, as she may be glad to contain herself within her own confines, without molesting or incommoding ot" her neighbours. I deny not, that even the greatnesse of Spain lier self were as much to be apprehended, equally as dangerous, did not her accustomed swell- ing and unnatural plethory most certainly incline to a tympanic, rather then shew it proceeded from any strong and sane constitution : their over-grasping humour being much like his, who desiring a good hand- full of sand, bv griping it over hard, loseth more through his fingers then he can carry away in all his palm. So that in this case our onely best bulwark Is France ; and (vice versd) opposed to their power, Spain, so long as this antipathie amongst them continues, and they remain in one entire bodie. For this cause it was, and for no other, that Queen Elizabeth would very wisely by no means consent to that offer of can- tonizing this kingdom, when in the time of the late league she was offered a considerable share. Sut on the other side, the accession of the Low Countries to this Empire were beyond all comparison more perillous then if they had also never started aside from their lawfull master; and this by reason of their situation, vicinity, ports, traffick, towns of defence ; the infinite disadvantages whereof we should soon acknowledge to our cost and ignominy. As touching; the Protestants, they are vet so numerous in France, and the Roman Catholicks so averse in that point, as there can never spring up the least appearance of hope that the King of Spain should ever pretend any thing in this country by way of inclination or defec- tion ; however, the late Jesuites (notwithstanding all those strict edicts and bans made against them) begin to swarme and re-establish them- selves. And so I have done with the more generall remarks worthy your consideration. I shal onely say a word or two of the people, and of Paris in particular, and so finish this task. Concerning the nature and genius of the iidiabitants, that which the Prince of Politicians gives out of the French, where he affirms, that / Francesi sono per natura piu fieri, che gagliardi 6 destri, upon what Cesar of old said of the Galli Insubres, that in the beginning 89 they appeared more then men, but proved in the conclusion lesse then women, retains in it still something of their present promptnesse, and as sudden discouragement : Upon which observation, the fore-cited Florentine notably adviseth, chi vuole superare i Fi'ancesi si guardi dal primo loro impeto, 8fc. " that he who would vanquish the French, should be sure to withstand and break their first brusk and onset :" because they usually rush on danger like a torrent, and in a des- perate fury, when they first charge and joyn battell : but as nothing: Premh/ury t Jl" I I ii-' •! France. dedicate themselves to letters and erudition prove as polite scholers and as trim wits as any Italian of them all. The greater part of tbem, I confesse, and ordinary pretenders, please themselves more in analvticall and cursory speculations, to which one may take post at every pillar in the streets, where you shal never fail of some bragadocio Hippias, who like some intellectus universalis, professes, and will undertake to render Pedantry «/ some any man an exact and perfect Philosopher, Divine, Orator, Chymist ; or to teach him all languages, and indeed, what not, within the space of a month or two; which kind of table method and LuUian art renders many of them, even to the very mechanicks, most egregious talkers, and intollerably pragmaticall. ^ Add unto this, their levelling of learning, and laying all authors in Their leteiimg , , . . , . 1 • I of learning. common, by their intemperate translations, having but of very late put all the Orations of Cicero into French, as it is long since that the poets have been made orators : for there is nothing more frequent then the turning of them into prose. Amongst the Faculties of Paris, there are some good dextrous The Faculties of Divines ; but their school exercises are dull and perfunctory things, in competition with what was wont to be performed here in our univer- sities. Generally, the Chirurgians of France are pretenders to phvsick, and /'%«"«/» ««t adorers of O -' O r & V breurl and pot ■ ever the rest of the repast be) as the Egyptians did garllck : nor will '''^''• a true Monsieur be brought at any rate to taste a glasse of wine, sans premier manger ; which although they neither do so much, nor sit so long at it, yet they use to collation more often, the most temperate of them. The passions of the people are suddenly imported and puffed up with Elevated ami d,:- a victory, and as soon dejected with the least repulse or loss. They are ■'^!^!"t^v"''r prodlgall, and splendid in externals, but seldome undoe themselves in °T ^ ^ » ~ I - bplendid in ex- house-keeping and hospitality : the best sort eat like Princes, and far '"'""* exceed our tables ; the common, worse then dogs : generally, so they flourish and appear for a month or two in the summer, they will fare hard enough the rest of the yeer besides ; and such as minde onely their profit, have little charity, where they see no evident interest, fhu of interest. They are exceedingly courteous, and have generally their tongues well hung; which promptitude of theirs, as it becomes them well in en- counter, so they are for the most part of joviall conversation, and far o/ a joriatt con- from that constrained addresse which is naturall to our sullen nation, some address, and 1 1*1 1 -I'll 1 • 1 "'■" V'"*"'- who never think ourselves acquainted, till we treat one another with Jack and Tom; familiarities which, as we finde no where else in use, o-nsnreo/the 1 . . • . , , . . rude familiuritie so they commonly terminate in vaine and rude associations. o/the Engush The French are the sole nation in Europe that do idolize their Sove- French, reveren- • 1 II iM' !• T vers of their reign, unto whom they have likewise a more free and immediate accesse King, and his aj- fabi/iti/ to them. 92 (without much ceremony) then ordinarily is to be seen in any other Princes Court : and this affabihtie and freedom gains them as strangely to him; which (certainly) is an excellent art in the one, and no lesse a vertue in the other. But, on the contrary, their choler throughly stirred, there never wants some Raviliac, or cut-throat, to perpetrate their malice ; so unstable is popular confidence. r/.eir o/nnion and Finally, tlicy have a naturall dread and hate to the Enp:lish, as hnte of the Ens- . ^ 1 J i L • '»*''• esteeming us, for the most part, a fierce, rude, and barbarous nation : but their antipathy to a Spaniard is deadly and irreconcilable. Stature. ¥oY their bodies, they are both sexes of mean stature, rather in good Complexion. poiiit then either lean or grosse ; generally swart of complexion, ex- cept such as have mixed towards the north and east : the women have commonly black eyes, rare teeth, and sweet voices; and certainly, so gentile and naturall an addresse, even in their most ordinary actionSj that one may as easily distinguish them by it as their tongues : in fine, Promptness, they are extremely prompt, and imagine to comprehend all upon an instant, which makes many to give out and tire in the journey before they be half way : for all which, and their oppressions to boot, there ana cheerful SH. Hves not undcr the cope of heaven a more frank, galiard, and supine p]"'.'" "' ''^P'"' people: howbeit many of them will not stick to repine, and censure rictories unwet- cvcn their own victories and successes, whereof every one but seems to cojne to the Fr. : ill • • 1 j , 1 • and why. add a hcavicr weight to their oppression. The i,t.st and most Now as evcry metropolitan and royal city is likely the best map of 'of'TcmiMrsi. "^ the country wherein it stands ; so may Paris be esteemed the most exact compendium of France. Paris site edi- Voxxs is a cIty in a ring, whereof the Louvre or Palace of the King fines, ^r. j^ ^j^^ diamond : and truely considering the vastnesse of its circum- ference, so incomparably built all of the living rock, whereupon it is seated (which for beauty, easie working, and lastingness, renders it a pre-eminence above many more costly materials) I think no city in the whole world equalizes it. I have seen Naples, Rome, Florence, Genoa, and Venice ; all stately cities, and full of Princely fabricks ; but then I compare the extent, and here are many hundreds of noble- mens houses, both within the town, and the environs, which altogether approach, if not exceed the best of them. This I will boldly affirm, 93 that for the streets, suburbs, and common buildings, it infinitely excels anv city else in Europe : for publick edifices, some of the hospitals are fair foundations and handsome piles : but the convents and churches come far short of the towns before recited : yet that of the Sorbonne and Jesuites, are not much inferiour to some of the best and most mo- dern pieces of architecture extant. The river of Seine, which divides it, is nothing comparable, for The River of sweetnesse and good condition, to our Royal river of Thames : yet it would deceive any man in the use; when he shall seriously examine and consider the huge vessels of burden (^though not ships) it !)rings up, full of commodities and necessary provisions. In conclusion, Paris wants nothing but clean streets, and a redresse of the multitude of coaches, laquays, and throngs of mankind; with all which, it is ge- i^umberof nerally so pestered, that it appears a miracle to me, how so many backs ^ol'^reat" ^"'^^ are clothed, and bellies maintained (in a town of no eminent staple) as you may behold in one day, if you walk the streets and public carfours ; most of the houses ordinarily harbouring six, as often ten families betwixt heaven and hell, the garrets and the cellars ; and this I ^^ Ti'ue cause of our take to be the true cause of that nastinesse which we usually impute to »'■/""«<■'""« ">"• •' i Nastinesse. the nation: persons of quality, and such as have room enough, being Persons oj\iua- - 1 'I'l iii^-i ''*'' """■« "«"' tar more proper and sumptuous in their houses, then the best or us here and sumptuous . . then any m Eng- in Hinglaiid, however we arrogate the contrary. '««"'• Touching the extent of this city, it hath been, and is still a great The extent of pa , • , , xll I'l', 11 '■'* "n iUO "1 Parisfrnm the ly purcbascd tlicir liberty at the signal battel or Kocroy, the bpainaru, 'tis beleeved, might (without the least obstacle) have marched up to the verv orates of Paris. The aire of Paris But tlic incomparable aire of Paris is that which fortifies the inha- ceiebrated. bitants : SO that very seldom hath a plague or other epidemical con- tasiion made here that havoc and lamentable devastation, which it so frequently doth in our putrified climate, and accidentally suffocated city: 95 contrary to that vulgjar (^but most false) tradition, which I find in every The ordinary tra- '' . . dition amongst us mans mouth; that the pestilence is never out of Paris: hut this t^tnt the puigue is *■ never out of Pariiy (besides the siccity of the aire) many naturalists ascribe to the over »"?/'"'«''• sulphurous exhalations of the streets, and dry attracting quality of the Plaster, which bears or gives the name to this goodly city. Cer^e zrf ^""^"^^"!!j,'^^..^ Jirmissimum Imperium est, quo ohedientes gaudent. Thus, Sir, by the assistance of your patience, I have adventured to draw the curtain, discovering a very ample theatre, in a short time, and represerjted it in as narrow a circumference as those artists who intro- duce a multitude of species through an optick into some dark room or closet : and the similitude peradventure will not appear unapt, when you consider the reversed method and confused stile in which it is described. But as writing of histories is not my trade, I know you have not commanded me to undergo this task to make thereby any advantage of my imperfections, hut approve mine obedience. And now, although I doubt not but many able persons have most excellently treated upon this very subject, appropriated to their times, yet I will be bold to affirm, and that sans vanitie, none hath lately performed it with greater faith, succinctnesse, and in more natural colours. For hee that will truely comprehend the government and genius of this kingdome, must prospect and look out every day for new discoveries; France being now no more the thing it was forty veers since, then the garb and fashion at that time, to the habit and mode now in use amongst them, equally as different, as incomparable : and in truth, (to disabuse the world) the complexion and crasis of this body politick is of so high concernment to the health, and good estate of our poor nation, that to preserve her in entire habit and constitution, there can never be too often inspections into the state and regiment of this king- dom. This is the opinion of, Sir, Paris, this 15 of Febr. iGhi. Your most affectionate friend, Stilo novo. and most obedient servant, J. E. FINIS. THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY TR.\NSLATION OF THE "FRENCH GARDINER." i2mo. 1658*. To my most honour'd and worthy Friend Thomas Henshaw-J", Esquire. Sir, I have at length obey'd your commands, only I wish the instance hud bin more considerable : though I cannot but much approve of the designe and of your election in this particular work, which is certainly the best that is extant upon this subject, notwithstanding the plenty which these late years have furnish'd us withal. I shall forbear to publish the accident which made you engage me upon this traduction ; because I have long since had inclinations and a design of communi- * This Dedication is reprinted from a copy of the very rare first edition, with fine cuts by A. Hertocks, formerly in the possession of the late James Bindley, Esq. The original Title to this volume is " The French Gardiner : instructing how to cultivate all sorts of Fruit-trees, and .4erbs " for the garden : together with directions to dry and conserve them in their natural : six times " printed in France, and once in Holland. An accomplished Piece, first written by R. D. C. D. " VV. B. D. N, and now transplanted into English by Philocepos. Illustrated with sculptures. " London, printed for John Crooke, at the Ship in .St. Pauls Church-yard, 1658." i2mo. 319 pp. and with four plates. The Second Edition was printed by J. M. for the same publisher, in 1669, who had then removed to Duck Lane, with some little variation in the title page, having Mr. Evelyn's name to it as the translator, he being at that time a Fellow of the Royal Society. Whereunto was an- ne.xed, " The English Vineyard, vindicated by John Rose, Gardiner to his Majesty, Charles the Second : with a tract of the making and ordering of Wines in France. " The Third Edition appeared in 167^, printed by S. S. for Benj. Tooke, at the Ship in St. Paul's Church-yard, (Evelyn's usual publisher ;) and, with the exceptions of a few verbal alterations, is precisely the same as the second. t This gentleman, to whom John Evelyn dedicated his own etchings, was with him during his travels; and was recommended by Mr. Evelyn to the Embassy of Constantinople, which was how- ever filled by Lord Winchelsea. In 1675 Mr. Hensliaw was left resident to the Court of Den- mark, on the Death of the Duke of Richmond, who died there. Ambassador. — See frequent allu- sions to him in the first volume of " Memoirs." O 98 eating some other things of this nature from my own experience ; and especially, concerning the ornaments of gardens, &c. ; hecause, what respects the soyle, the situation, and the planting, is here performed to my hand with so much ingenuity, as that I conceive there can very little he added to render it a piece absolute and without reproach. In order to this, my purpose was to introduce the least known (though not the least delicious) appendices to gardens ; and such as are not the names only, hut the descriptions, plots, materials, and \^ayes of con- triving the ground for parterrs, grotts, fountains ; the proportions of walks, perspectives, rocks, aviaries, vivaries, apiaries, pots, conserva- tories, piscinas, groves, cryptas, cabinets, ecchos, statues, and other ornaments of a vt'giia, &c. without which the best garden is without life, and very defective. Together with a treatise of flowers and ever- greens ; especially the palisades and contr-espaliers of Aiaternus, which most incomparable verdure, together with the right culture of it, for beauty and fence, I might glory to have been the first propagator in England. This, I say, I intended to have published for the benefit or divertisement of our country, had not some other things unexpectedly intervened, which as yet hinder the birth and maturity of that embryo. Be pleased, Sir, to accept the productions of your own commands : as a lover of gardens you did promote it, as a lover of you I have trans- lated it. And in the mean time that the great ones are busied about governing the world (which Is but a wildernesse), let us call to mlnde the rescript of Dloclesian to those who would perswade him to re- assume the empire. For it is impossible that he who is a true virtuoso, and has attained to the fellcitv of being a good gardener, should give jealousie to the State where he lives. This is not advice to you, who know so well how to cultivate both yourself and your garden ; but be- cause it is the only way to enjoy a garden, and to preserve its reputation. Sir, I am Your most humble and most obedient servant, J. E. 99 THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY SECOND EDITION OF THE "FRENCH GARDINER." London, 1669. 12nio. To my most honour'd and worthy friend Thomas Henshavv, Esquire. Sir, The success of the First Edition of this Book, has produced a second ; and with it the continuance of your name in the front of this Epistle, that those who shall receive the fruits it here presents them, may- know to whom they are oblig'd for it; your commands first engag- ing me to interpret, and give it to our country : and I was glad I had so fair an opportunity of publishing to the world how highly 1 honour you for your many eminent and shining parts ; your virtue, your learning, and our now ancient friendship; which, contracted first abroad, has contlnu'd both there, and since at home, through so many vicissi- tudes and changes as we have seen and surmounted. The character which I first adventur'd on this Piece, (when I boldly pronounc'd it for the very best that was extant on the subject) has been amply confirm'd by the suffrages of all who have since written upon it ; and I will be bold to affirm, it was the first that ever instructed our country-men how to cultivate and order their gardens for fruit, and other esculent plants, with a faith and industry becoming that honest and sweet employment. Here is nothing added (and indeed nothing could well be) to the First Edition, but the weeding and purging it of some typographical escapes ; and therefore I have nothing more to say, but that I am, Sir, Your most humble and falthfull servant, J, Evelyn. 100 TO THE READER. (Prefixed to the " French Gardiner.") I advertise the Reader that what I have couched in four Sections at the end of this Volume, under the name of an Appendix, is but a part of the third Treatise in the original ; there remaining three Chapters more concerning preserving of fruits with sugar, which I have, there- fore, expressly omitted, because it is a mysterie that I am little ac- quainted withall ; and that I am assured by a lady, who is a person of quality, and curious in that art, that there is nothing of extraordinary amongst them, but what the fair sex do infinitely exceed, whenever they please to divertise themselves in that siveet employment. There is also another book of the same author, intituled, " Les Delices de la Campagne" or, " The Delights of the Countrey," being as a second part of this ; wherein you are taught to prepare and dresse whatsoever either the earth or water do produce ; dedicated to the good housewives. There you are instructed to make all sorts of French bread, and the whole mysterie of the pastry, wines, and all sorts of drinks. To accomodate all manner of roots good to eat; cooking of flesh and fish, together with precepts how the Major Domo is to order the services, and treat persons of quality at a feast, a la mode de Fi-ance, which such as affect more then I, and do not understand in the original, may procure to be interpreted, but by some better hand then he that did the " French Cook ;" which being (as I am informed) an excellent book of its kinde, is miserably abused for want of skill in the kitchin. If any man think it an employment fit for the translator of this for- mer part, it will become him to know, that though I have some experi- ence in the garden, and more divertisement, yet I have none in the shambles ; and that what I here present him was to gratifie a noble friend, who had only that empire over me, as to make me quit some more serious employment for a few days in obedience to his command. Farewell. 101 To the Second Edition of this Volume is added, " The English Vineyard vindicated by John Rose *, Gardiner to his Majesty, at his Royal Garden in St. James's ; formerly Gard'ner to her Grace the Dutchess of Somerset : with an Address where the best Plants are to be had at easie rates." And immediately after the author's dedication to K. Charles II. is the following " Preface or Occasion of this Dis- course," written by John Evelyn. Being one day refreshing my self in the garden at Essex- house f, and, amongst other things, falling into discourse with Mr. Rose (then gard'ner to her Grace the Duchess of Somerset) about vines, and par- ticularly the cause of the neglect of vineyards of late in England, he reason'd so pertinently upon that subject (as, indeed, he does upon all things which concern his hortulan profession}, that, conceiving how greatly it might oblige many worthy and ingenious persons, lovers of plantations, and of the noblest parts of it ; I was easily perswaded to gratlfie his modest and charitable inclinations, to have them commu- nicated to the world. The matter, therefore, of the ensuing Discourse, being totally his, receives from me onely its forme, and the putting of his conceptions together; which I have dressed up in as rural a garb as I thought might best become, and recommended then for practice. I have turn'd over many both late and ancient books (far exceeding this in bulk), pretending to direct us in our choice of the fruit, and the planting of vineyards, but I do ingenuously profess, that none of them have appear'd the more rational and worthy our imitation than these short observations of Mr. Roses, and which I so much the more value, * An excellent print in the line manner, 13 inclies by 12, was engraved, in 1823, by Robert Grave, a young and promising arlist, from the curious picture at Strawberry Hill of King Charles II. receiving the first pine-apple cultivated in England, from Rose his gardener, who is presenting it on his knees, at Dawney Court, Buckinghamshire, the seat of the celebiated Duchess of Cleveland. t In the reign of Queen Elizabeth this house belonged to her favourite, the Earl of Leicester, who bequeathed it to his son-in-law, Robert Devereux Earl of Essex, when it changed its name from Leicester House to that of its new possessor. It stood near St. Clement's Church in the Strand, and the site is still retained in Essex Street, Essex Place, Essex Court, and Devereux Court. A plan of the house and gardens, copied from Ogilby and Morgan's Twenty Sheet Map of London, etched by Hollar, may be seen in Smith's Antiquities of Westminster. 4to. 1807. 102 as I consider them the native production of his own experience, without obtruding any thing upon the reputation of others, which is now become the most pernitious imposture that flatters us into so many mistakes and errours ; whilst men follow such directions as they meet withal in print, or from some JMonsieurs new come over, who think we are as much oblig'd to follow their mode of gaid'ning as we do that of their gar- ments, till we become in both ridiculous. I might here add something of ostentation, by deducing the pedigree of vineyards from the great oriental Patriarch of them to this day ; but it will be of more encou- ragement to us, when we shall consider how frequently they were here- tofore planted in this country of ours, as they still continue to be in places of the very same latitude abroad ; so as the strange decay of them amongst us for these latter ages, must needs proceed from no other cause then that of our own neglect, and the common vicissitude of things. We behold it in that of timber to our grief, and the several (almost lost) species of some. Why have we not as goodly masts foi our ships as our neighbour countries ? Why is the elme, the walnut, and the chestnut, so decay'd and rare amongst us, more then formerly they were ? But of this I have elsewhere given an account more at large*. The Vineyard is now before you. Philocepos. * " Svlva; a Discourse of Forest Trees." THE GOLDEN BOOK OF ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, CONCERNING THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. TRANSLATED OUT OF THE GREEK, BV ESQ. LONDON: PUINTED BY D. M. FOR G. BEDEL AND T. COLLINS, AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE, IN FLEET STREET. 1659. 105 The epistle DEDICATORY. To my most incomparable Brothers, George & Richard Evelyn of Wooton and Woodcot, in Surrey, Esqrs. My dear Brothers, Amongst the very many diversions which I have experimented to mitigate and attemper the sorrovves which do still oppresse me, for the loss of my children, and especially of that One so precious to me *, I have found nothing that has afforded me a greater consolation then this; that it pleased God to give me opportunities and such a subject to work upon, as I cannot but hope he has in mercy accepted. And truly, when I seriously contemplate the felicity of all those which are well out of this miserable world, I find the griefe which wee conceive for their absence to be a meer (piXaur/a, and does nothing at all concerne them whom we mourne for, that have served God, their generation with honour, and left a memorial without reproach. You have, Bro- thers, both of you lost children, but none of them for whom you had reason to be so sensible as my selfe ; because they died infants, and could not so intirely engage your affections as if they had arrived to yeers of more maturity, and the spring had flattered you with the expec- tation of a fruitful harvest, as me it did. But because we are all obnoxious, and that cuivis potest accidere, quod cuiquam potest, be assured, that of all the afflictions which can touch the heart in this life, one of the most superlative is the loss of a hopeful child ; and 'till I had the experience of this my self, I have often wondered that David should suffer himselfe to be so far trans- ported for the death of a rebel, that had violated all the relations which ought to be betwixt a son and a most indulgent father. I know well that another cause might contribute to the effect, but all who shall read that sad story cannot but impute as much to his paternal affections as by man could be expressed. * A very interesting and affecting account of the death of this extraordinary child may be seen in " Memoirs," vol. I. p. 299 ; and in vol. II. p. 176, a beautiful letter of consolation is addressed to Mr. Evelyn by the eminent Dr. Jeremy Taylor. P 106 These are, Brothers, the contingencies which (since we can never be exempted perfectly of) have caused me to seek the remedies which I presume here to have at last encountered, and which I here Hkewise affectionately present unto you. Let us make our children fit for God, and then let us not be displeased whensoever he takes them from us. Deus nobis illos educandos non mancipio dederat. There are a multi- tude of other precepts that I might recollect out of the consolatory writings which are at hand ; Plutarch and Cicero, Seneca and others. But all their topicks (S. Hieroni and some few Christians only excepted) are most of them derived from philosophy, the pride and courage of another institution, and afford us but uncertain consolations in the wiser estimate of things. So that hereby we may be less troubled in wanting the writings of Diogenes, Clitomachus, Carneades, Possidonius, upon the same subject ; there being nothing capable truly to compose the mind of a p-ood man for the absence of his friend or of his child, like the contemplation of his undoubted felicity. It is that which I therefore endeavor here to secure, in offering to you this Golden Book of S. Chrysostom, which having afforded me soe great a consolation, 1 cannot but hope may be likewise accept- able to you, and useful to as many as have either bin touched with the like resentiments, or that do establish for an infallible maxime that saying of Plato *, wj oiyB o^Sui; TreTroctSouf/.evoi, crx^Sov aya^oi ytyovra., " that those who are well and rightly instructed, do easily become good men." And the thing is verily of so great importance, that some have taken education for religion it selfe, all for another nature ; which he that shall read of the Laconick discipline will not easily dispute. This is certain, that were this one thing well secured, princes would have good subjects, fathers good children, wives good husbands, masters good servants, God would be sincerely served, and all things would be well with us. And here I would now end, did not my affections a little transport me, and the hopes that you will yet indulge it, if, whilst I erect to my dear child no other monument, I shew to the world how neerlv I concurr'd with the instructions of this Golden Book (before I * De Legibus. 107 had scene it), and what may be expected from a timely education, if (now that we may both read and have it) we with diligence pursue it. 1 cannot, with St. Augustine *, say of my son, as he of his, Annorum er at fere quindecim, Sf ingenio j)rceveniehat multos graves %■ doctos vivos. But this I can truly affirm ; he was little above five years old, and he did excel many that I have known of fifteene. Tarn brevi spatio tempora multa compleverat. He was taught to pray as soon as he could speak, and he was taught to read as soon as he could pray. At three years old he read any character or letter whatsoever used in our printed books, and, within a little time after, any tolerable writing hand, and had gotten (by heart) before he was five years of age seven or eight hundred Latine and Greek words, as I have since calculated out of his 'Ovo[jt,u(riKov, together with their genders and declensions, I entred him then upon the verbs, which in four months time he did perfectly conjugate, together with most of the irregulars excepted in our gram- mar. These he conquered with incredible delight, and intelligence of their use. But it is more strange to consider, that when from them I thought to set him to the nouns, he had in that interim (by himself) learned both the declensions and their examples, their exceptions, adjectives, comparisons, pronouns, without any knowledge or precept of mine, insomuch as I stood amazed at his sedulity and memory. This engaged me to bring him a Sententios Piceriles, and a Cato, and of late Comeniiis ; the short sentences of which two first, and the more solid ones of the last, he learned to construe and parse, as fast as one could well teach and attend him : for he became not onely dextrous in the ordinary rules by frequent recourse to them (for indeed I never obliged him to get any of them by heart as a task, bv that same carni- Jicina pnerorumj upon occasions, but did at this age also easily com- prehend both the meaning and the use of the relative, the ellipsis, and defects of verbs and nouns unexpressed ■\. But to repeat here all that I could justly affirm concerning his promptitude in this nature, were * Conf. lib. 9. cap. 6. t Quid in illo virtutum, quid ingenii, quid pietatis invenerim, vereor dicere ne fideni creduli- tatis excedam. Hier. ad Marcell. Epitapli. 108 altogether prodigious, so that truly I have heen sometimes even con- strained to cry out with the father, as of another Adeodatus, horrori mihi est hoc ingenium. For so insatiable were his desires of knowledg, that I well remember upon a time hearing one discourse of Terence and Plautus, and being told (upon his enquiring concerning these authors) that the books were too difficult for him, he wept for very grief, and would hardly be pacified; but thus it is reported of Thucydides, when those noble Muses were recited in his hearing, at one of the most illus- trious assemblies of Greece, from whence was predicted the greatness of his genius. To tell you how exactly he read French, how much of it he spake and understood, were to let you onely know that his mother did instruct him without any confusion to the rest. Thus he learned a catechism and many prayers, and read divers things In that language. More to bee admired was the liveliness of his judgment, that being much affected with the diagramms in Euclid, he did with so great faci- lity interpret to me many of the common postulata and definitions, which he would readily repeate in Latine and apply it. And he was in one hour onely taught to play the first half of a thorough basse, to one of our Church psalmes, upon the organ. Let no man think that ■we did hereby crowd his spirit too full of notions. Those things which we force upon other children were strangely natural to him ; for as he very seldome affected their toyes, to such things were his usual recrea- tions as the gravest man might not be ashamed to divert himself withal. These were especially the Apologues of iEsop, most of which he could so readily recount, with divers other stories, as vou would admire from whence he produced them : but he was never without some book or other in his hand. Pictures did afford him infinite pleasure; above all, a pen and ink, with which he now began to form his letters. Thus he often delighted himself in reciting of poems and sentences, some whereof he had in Greek, fragments of comedies, divers verses out of Herbert, and, amongst the psalmes, his beloved and often repeated Ecce qiiam honum : and Indeed he had an ear so curiously framed to sounds, that he would never misse infallibly to have told you what language it was YOU did read by the accent only, were it Latine, Greek, French, Italian, or Dutch. To all I might add, the Incomparable sweetness of his 109 countenance and eyes, the clean fabric of his body and pretty addresses : how easily he forgot injuries, when at any time 1 would break and crosse his passions, by sometimes interrupting his enjoyments, in the midst of some sweet or other delicious things which allured him : that I might thereby render him the more indifferent to all things, though these he seldom quitted without rewards and advantage. But above all, ex- tremely conspicuous was his affection to his younger brother, with whose impertinencies he would continually bear, saying, he was but a child, and understood no better. For he was ever so smiling, cheerful, and in perfect good humour, that it might be truly verified of him, as it was once of Heliodorus*, gravitatem morum hilarite frontis tem^ierahat. But these things were obvious, and I dwel no longer on them : there are yet better behind ; and those are, his early piety, and how ripe he was for God. Never did this child lye in bed (by his good will) longer then six or seven, winter or summer; and the first thing he did (being up} was to say his French prayers, and our Church Catechism ; after breakfast that short Latine prayer, which having encountred at the be- ginning of our Lillie's Grammar, he had learned by heart, without any knowledge or injunction of mine, and whatsoever he so committed to memory, he would never desist till he perfectly understood ; yet with all this, did he no day employ above two houres at his book by my order; what he else learned was most by himselfe, without constraint or the least severity, unseene, and totally imported by his own inclina- tion. But to return, wonderful was it to observe the chapters which himselfe would choose, and the psalmes and verses that he would apply upon occasions, and as in particular he did to some that were sick in my family a little before him, bidding them to consider the sufferings of Christ, how bitter they were, and how willingly he endured them. How frequently would he pray by himself in the day time, ^nd procure others to joyn with him in some private corner of the house apart ? The last time he was at church (which was, as I remember, at Green- wich), at his return I asked him what he brought away from the sermon; he replyed, that he had remembred two good things, bonum * Hieiom. 110 gratice, and bonum glorice, which expressions were indeed used, though I did not beheve he had minded them. I should even tire you with repeating all that 1 might call to mind of his pertinent answers upon several occasions, one of the last whereof I will only instance. When about Christmas a kinsman of his related to us by the fire side some passages of the presumptuous fasting of certain enthusiasts about Colchester, whilst we were expressing some admira- tion at the passage. That, sayes the child (being upon the gentlemans knee, and, as we thought, not minding the discourse), is no such wonder, for it is written, " Man shall not live by bread alone, &c." But more to be admired was his perfect comprehension of the sacred histories in the method of our Golden iVuthor, so as it may be truly affirmed of this child, as it was once said of Timothy *, Quod a piiero saoas literas nove- rat. Nor was all this by rote only (as they term it), for that he was capable of the greater mystery of our salvation by Christ I have had many infallible indications. And when the Lords day fortnight before he died, he repeated to me our Church Catechism, he told me that he now perceived his godfathers were dis-engaged ; for that since he him- self did now understand what his duty was, it would be required of him, and not of them for the future. And let no man think, that when I use the term dis-engaged, it is to expresse the childs meaning with a fine word, for he did not only make use of such phrases himself, but would frequently in his ordinary discourse come out with such expres- sions as one would have admired how he came by them ; but unon enquiry he would certainly have produced his authority, and either in the Bible, or some other booke, shewed you the words so used. How divinely did this pious infant speake of his being weary of this trouble- some world (into which he was scarcely entred), and whilst he lay sick, of his desires to goe to Heaven ; that the angels might conveye him into Abrahams bosome, passionately perswadlng those that tended him to dye with him; for he told them that he knew he should not five: and, really, though it were an ague which carried him from us (a dis- ease which I least apprehended, finding him so llvelv in his interval), * 2 Tim. iii. 15. Ill yet the day before he took his leave of us, he call'd to me, and pro- nounced It very soberly ; Father (saves he), you have often told me that you would give me your house, and your land, your bookes, and all your fine things; but I tell you, I shall have none of them; you will leave them all to my brother. This he spake without any provo- cation or passion ; and it did somewhat trouble me, that I could not make him alter this conceit, which in another would be esteemed pro- phetick. But that I may conclude, and shew how truly jealous this child was least he should offend God in the least scruple, that very morning, not many howres before he fell into that sleepe which was his last, being in the midst of his paroxcisme, he called to me, and asked of me whether he should not offend, if in the extremity of his pain he mentioned so often the name of God calling for ease ; and whether God would accept his prayers if he did not hold his hands out of bed in the posture of praying? which when I had pacified him about, he prayed, till his prayers were turned into eternal praises. Thus ended your nephew, being but five years five monethes and three dayes old, and more I could still say. Nam quern corpore non valemiis recordatione teneamus, et cum quo loqui non possumus de eo loqui nunquatn desi- namus. But my tears mingle so fast with my inke, that I must breake off here, and be silent — I end therefore with that blessed Saint: Munera tua tibi confiieor, Domine Deus mens, Creator omnium, rnultum potens reformare nostra deformia : nam ego in illo puero, prceter delictum nihil hahebam. Quod enim enutriebatur d, nobis in disciplind tud. Tu inspira veras nobis, nullus alius. Munera tua tibi conjiteor. — Cito de terra abstulisti vitam ejus, et securior eum recordor. Deare Brothers, indulge me these excesses. It is not a new thing which I doe. S' Hierom wrote divers Epistles, which he inscribed his Epitaphs; and never was a Paula or Estochium dearer to him then this your nephew was to. Dear B. B. Your most affectionate brother and most humble servant, J. E. Grot, ad Patrem. Carere liber is durum non est, nisi his qui habuerunt. 112 Epitaphium *. R. Evelyn, I. F. Quiescit hoc sub marmore, Una quiescit quicquid est amabile, Patres quod optent, aut quod orbi lugeant. Genas decentes non, ut ante, risus Lepore condit ampliiis. Morum venustas, quanta paucis contigit Desideratur omnibus. Lingua? Latina, Gallica, Quas imbibit cum lacte materno, tacent. Tentarat artes, artiumque principiis Pietatis elementa hauserat. Libris inhaesit improbo labore, Ut sola mors divelleret. Quid indoles, quid disciplina, quid labor Possint, ab uno disceres. Puer stupendus qualis hie esset senex, Si fata vitae subministrassent iter ! Sed aliter est visum Deo. Correptus ille febricula levi jacet: Jacent tot una spes parentum. Vixit ANN. V. M. V. Ill super d. Eheu ! delicias breves. Quicquid placet mortale non placet diu, Quicquid placet mortale ne placeat nimis. * This epiiaph was written by Christopher Wase, a distant relation of Sir Richard Browne, with whom Evelyn became acquainted at Paris in 1652; and whom he brought to England, where he ultimately provided for him. See " Memoirs," vol. I. p. 255. This information is derived from a manuscript note in a copy of the present Tract, formerly in the possession of the late J. Bindley, Esq. TO THE READER. 1 ADVERTISE the Reader that this Golden Book of S' Chrysostom is not to be encountred amongst any of his Works formerly published ; but hath (amongst other fragments of that incomparable Author} bin lately produced out of a MS. in the Cardinals Library at Paris, by the industry of Father Francis Combesis, of the Order of the Friers Preacher, and there printed the last year, 1656. THE GOLDEN BOOK OF ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, CONCERNING THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN*. So soon as ever a child is borne, the father bestirs himself, not that he may rightly take order about his education, but that he may magni- ficently set him forth, and adorn him with jewels and rich apparel. O vain man, wherfore dost thou this ? Be it that thou thvself art cloathed with all these things, why dost thou instruct thy child, as yet free from this madnesse, in these trifles ? For what purpose dost thou put that ornament about his neck ? He needs the care of a diligent tutor, who may compose and regulate his manners : he hath no need of gold. And thou dost nourish him a lock of hair behind like a girle, effeminating thy son even from the very cradle. Softning thus the vigor of his sex, engraftest into that tender age a superfluous love of riches, and dost perswade him to the pursuit of those things which are totaly unuseful. Why dost thou spread for him so large a snare ? Wherefore dost thou so charm him with the love of corporal things ? If a man (saith S^ Paul) have long hair it is a shame unto him-j^. Nature will not endure it ; God hath not indulg'd it ; 'tis a thing altogether forbidden ; it is the practice of Gentil superstition. But many there be who hang gold in their ears. I would that were wholy forborn even by the female sex ; you infect boyes with this pest also; nay, and there are very many who deride these discourses as if they were small matters. 1 tell you, they are not small matters but exceeding great, and very considerable. A maid, * Originally published 16th Sept. 165S, " which," says Evelyn, " I dedicated to both my brothers, to comfort them on the loss of their children." — Memoirs, vol. I. p. 314. t 1st Cor. xi. 14. 114 when in her mothers chamber she hath learned to long after these various tires and ornaments of women, being gone out of her fathers house, be- comes impertinent to her husband, and very troublesome, putting him to more charges then the very publicans. I have already told you, that It is therefore a difficult thing to reform a vice, because there is no body which takes the care of children, no body discourses to them about vir- ginity, no body concerning modesty, no body of the contempt of riches and glory, and no body speaks to them of those blessed promises which are made in the Scriptures. If therefore children be from their Infancy deprived of governors, what will become of them ? If some from the womb even to their old and decrepit age, having been instituted, are not yet arrived to perfection, what will not they perpetrate, who from the beginning of their life have accustomed themselves to hear such discourses ! Now indeed that their children may be instructed in the arts, letters, and eloquence, every one doth studiously contend ; but that they may cultivate their minds few or none are at all solicitous. I will never desist to beseech, to entreat, and to beg of vou, that before all things else whatsoever, you would now compose the manners of your children. For If thou wilt be truly Indulgent to thy child, declare It In this, thou shalt not lose thy reward. Hear what St. Paul salth *, " If thev continue In faith and charity, and hollnesse with sobriety." And though thou art conscious to thy self of never so many evils, the rather seek out some consolation for them. Make a Champion for Christ. I do not speak It that thou shouldst coellbat him, send him into the desarts, and make him a monk; I say not so ; I wish It Indeed, and would, with all my heart, that every man could receive It : but since that may seem a burthen too great for him to support, I do not compel. Bring up a Champion (I say) for Christ, and whilst he remains In this world instruct him from his verv cradle. If whilst he is yet young thou imprint good principles in him, no body shall be ever able to eflPace them when he becomes more firme, being then as the wax which hath received the Impression. As yet thou hast him trembling, fearful, and revering thy very looks, thy words, * 1 Timothy, chap. ii. v. 15. 115 and every little beck. Treat him as thou shouldst at the beginning. If thou have a good child, thou wilt have the first benefit of him, and then God. Thou labourest but for thy self. 'Tis reported, that when pearles are first taken up, they are only little drops of water, so that he which receives them being skilful, placing the drops in his hand, and exquisitely turning them in his palm, renders tliem perfectly round and polished. But when once they have attained their perfect shape and become hard, they are no more to be moulded to every mans fancy ; for that which is soft is every way flexible, being not as yet compacted, and therefore is easily drawn which way one pleaseth ; but that which is hard, as having once attained a disposition to stifFnesse, is with diffi- culty to be moved, or susceptible of any other form. Let then every one of us (who are parents) as we behold painters adorning their pictures and statues with so much exactnesse, be dili- gently studious about these wonderful statues. For when painters have once designed a picture, they work every day about it to bring it to per- fection ; the same do statuaries, abating what is superfluous, and adding whatsoever is deficient. So you also, like so many statuaries, bend all your endeavors, as preparing those admirable statues for God, take away that which is superfluous, add that which you find wanting : consider everyday how they abound in natural endowments, that you may timely augment them : what natural defects you espy, that you may accord- ingly abate them: but with all sedulity, and above all things, be careful to exterminate unseemly speeches, for this custom begins extremly to infect the minds of youth ; yea, and before he have essayed it, teach him to be sober, to be vigilant and assiduous in his devotions, and upon whatsoever he saith or doth to put the seal upon it. Imagine thy self a cr(ppsytSa, king who hast a city to govern, the mind of thy child ; for really the mind is a city ; and as in a city some are thieves, some live honestly, some labour, and others transact all they do foolishlv ; just so it is with the discourses and cogitations of the mind ; some of them strive and mi- litate against injuries, like as in a city there are souldiers ; some of these thoughts provide for the body and houshold, like the senators of a city ; others command in chief, such as are governors ; some speak lascivious things, such as shamelesse men, others more modest, such as are modest 116 persons : some agalne are effeminate, as women be amongst us ; others discourse more indiscreetly, like children ; some domineer as if over vassals, because they are domesticks ; others as over the free borne, because they are noble and ingenuous. We must therefore of necessitie have laws, that we may exterminate these evil cogitations and cherish those which are good ; but never let us permit the evil to rebel against the good. For as in a city, if one should constitute laws giving liberty and impunity to thieves, it would soon subvert all : and if the souldiers pursue their fury without respect to what is fit, all things fall to confu- sion ; and if every one quitting his due order, take upon him to prose- cute that which belongs to another, by this usurpation and avarice he violates and utterly spolles the whole government. It is truly no other- wise in that which we have spoken. The mind of a child is therefore a city, a city newly built and fur- nished, a city full of new inhabitants, and as yet wholly unexperienced. 'Tls an easie matter to instruct and model such : for those which have been at first possest and grown up with evil principles, such as are many old persons, are truly with great difficulty reformed, though neither is that impossible (for even they themselves may be converted if they will} but such as are totallv ignorant, will with ease embrace the laws which you enjoyn them. Establish laws therefore in this city, and for those who are denisons of it, formidable and severe laws, which if any shall dare to violate, ap- prove thyself a governor and revenge it ; for it is to no purpose to enact jaws, unlesse punishment be also inflicted : make laws then, and look diligently to your work ; for know, that wee impose lawes upon no lesse then the universe it selfe. To day we build a city, let the four senses be the bulwarks and the gates, and let all the rest of the bodie be as the walls. Now these gates are the eyes, the tongue, the eares, and the nose, and (if you please) also the touch. Through these overtures it is that the citizens go out and in ; that is to say, by these ports it is that our co- gitations are corrupted or amended. Go to then, and first let us go to the gate of the tongue, since this is of all the rest the chief, and the greatest port ; let us now prepare for it the doors and its barres, not of wood nor of iron, but of gold, for the very 117 city it self which is thus built is of gold, and not any man, but he that is the King of the Universe shall keep his court in this city, if thus you prepare it: and you shall perceive by the processe his speech, in what parts of this city to consign him a palace. Let us therefore make the doors and the barrs for it of gold, 1 say ; namely, the Oracles of God, as the Prophet speaketh. " The words of God are more delicious than honey or the honey comb, above gold and much precious stone *." Let us teach them to have these things continually in their mouths and wheresoever they stir, and that not slightly, nor perfunctorily or sel- dom, but without ceasing. Nor is it yet sufficient that the doors be overlayed with gold, but they must be framed altogether of solid gold, and having the precious stones fixed one against another without. Let the Crosse of our Lord be the barre of these gates, which is, indeed, every where inchased with stones of price : let this then bee put athwart the middle of the gates ; and when we shall thus have made the doores fast, solid, and of gold, and shut to the bolt, let us then make them worthy citizens ; namely, by instructing the child to speak gravely and piously, banishing all strangers out of town, lest otherwise a certalne impure and infected rabble enter, and commix themselves with our citizens, such as are reproachful words, injurious and foolish, filthy speeches, secular and worldly ; all these let us eject ; nor, besides the King only, permit any to passe these gates ; but to him, and to all his retinue, let them be still opened, according as it is said of it-f-, " This is the gate of the Lord, the righteous shall enter into it." And, with the blessed Paul ]};, " If there be any word which is good to the use of edi- fying, that it may minister grace to the hearers." Let their talk be giving of thanks, modest songs, and let them alwayes be discoursing of God, and of that philosophy which is from above. But which way shall we now effect all this ? and from what topicks shall we instruct them ? If we become severe judges of the actions which they do, for in a child there is an extraordinary facility. How ? He contends not for wealth nor for glory ; he is yet a child : not for a wife, not for children, not for an house ; therefore what occasion * Psalm xix. ver. 11. and Psalm cxix.ver. 103. f Psalm xi. verse 20. f Eph. ch. iv. ver. 29. 118 hath he to injure or traduce any one ? He only contends with his equals. Appoint him a law immediately, that he wrong none, that he defame none, that he do not swear, that he be peaceable; and if you shall perceive him to transgresse this law, chastize him some- times with a Sterne countenance, sometimes with sharp reproofs, such as may go to the quick, and upbraid him, and now and then sooth and flatter him with promises. Treat him not alwayes with blows, nor accustome thyself so to chastize him ; for if thou art used to correct him every day, he will soon learne to despise it, and having once learned to do so, it utterly marres all : rather cause him alwayes to fear the rod, not alwayes to feel it : shake indeed the scourge, but touch him not with it, neither from threats proceed to the work : but let him not know that your words are only menaces ; for then threatenings are only proper, when children believe they will proceed to deeds : for if the offender once understand this oeconomy, he will soon contemne it : let him therefore expect to be chastized, but yet let him not be chastized, lest it extinguish his reverence ; rather let it remaine like a glowing fire, and every where burn up the thornes, or, like a keen pick-axe, let it dig to the very bottom. And when once you perceive that you have gained any fruit by fear, remit a little, for there is due even to our very natures some relaxation. Teach him to be modest and courteous ; but if you perceive him to do any injury to his servant, connive not at it, but check your child though free ; for hee that shall see he is not permitted to reproach his very lacquey, will much lesse dare to injure or miscal one that is free-borne and his equal. Lock up his mouth from ill lan- guage ; if you find him accusing of any, stop the mouth, and convert your tongue against her own errors. Admonish his mother, his psedagogue and his servant, that they still speak and inculcate the same things to the child, that they may all of them be his keepers together, and diligently observe that none of those evil cogitations proceed from his mouth, and those golden portals. Do not imagine that the thing requires so much time, provided that from the beginning thou presse it earnestly upon him, threaten, and dost constitute so manv guards over him. Two months will be sufficient, all things will be redressed, the business established, and pass into very nature it selfe. 119 By this means will this gate be made worthy for the Lord, when there shall he neither filthy speech, scurrility, nor folly, or any such thing, but all as becomes such a Master. For as those who train up their children to serve the State in the wars, immediately instruct their war- like youth in the art of shooting, to put on the corslet, and manage the great horse, their age and stature being no impediment ; how much rather then those which are entered into the heavenly militia, ought they to provide themselves with those accoutrements for the service of their King ? Learn him, therefore, to sing praises to God, that he have no leisure for impurer songs and foolish discourses. And be this gate thus guarded, and such citizens elected ; the rest let us destroy within, as the bees do the di'ones, not suffering them to go forth, or once to buz at home. But now let us proceed to the next gate. What is that .f' even that which is the next, and of our near affinity with it, 1 mean the Hearing ; for that gate indeed hath citizens which passe out from within, but none have admission through it ; but in this they enter in from without, and there are none which by it do sally forth. This, therefore, hath great affinity with the other ; for if no filthy nor polluted thing be suffered to climb up by this portal, there will be no great difficulty to preserve the other ; since he which doth not heare filthy and wicked things, does not likely speak wicked things ; but if these lie open and common to all, the danger will be great, and give disturbance to all that are within. This then, peradventure, were first to have been spoken of, and the entrance to have bin secured. Let children, therefore, heare nothing impertinent, neither of their domesticks nor their governors, nor their nurse : for as plants have then most need of care, when they are yong and tender, so have children. Provide them careful and virtuous nurses, that a good foundation be laid at first, and that from their very infancy they receive nothing of evil. Let them then never hear any foolish and old wives fables : such a person (says he) gave such a one a kisse ; the Emperors son and his little daughter did this and this ; permit them to hear none of these matters ; but other things they may hear, so they be related without any circumlocution, and with all fidelity. They may, indeed, hear the 120 discourses of their servants, and those which wait upon them : but 'tis not fitting to mix with all promiscuously, and with the domesticks in general : hut let them be known what they are, as it becomes them whom we take as assistants for the framing of these artificial statues. For if it be necessary that being skilful architects, and building a palace for the Prince, we admit not all the servants in common to be our associates in the edifice ; shall we now, when we are erecting a city, and making citizens for the King of Heaven, admit of all rashly to the work ? Let those servants which are indeed fitted for it be taken to our assistance : and in case we can find none, enquire after some inge- nuous person for a stipend, such a one as is virtuous ; and commit rather all things to him, that he be taken in as a coadjutor of the Mork. Let them by no means therefore hear such idle fables ; but when the child is to have relaxation from his taske (for the mind is much de- lighted to stay a little upon old stories) discourse freely to him, and withdrawing him as much as possible from childish sports, remember thou bringest up a philosopher, and a champion, and a citizen of Heaven. Discourse therefore with him, and tell him — Once upon a time at the beginning, a father had two sons, both of them brothers. Here pause a little ; then go on. They came both out of the same body, one of them was the elder, and the other the younger. The first was a husbandman, and his brother was a shepherd, that us'd to lead out l)is flock upon the downes and amongst the thickets. Sweeten then your discourse with some pretty diversion, that the child may take delight in what you say, least it becomes tedious. The other sowed seed in the ground and planted trees. But upon a time they went to serve God, and the shepherd taking the very best lamb of all his flock, offered it up to God. Is it not a thousand times better to discourse these things to them, then to amuse them with I know not what won- ders of the Golden Fleece, and the like ? Then encourage his attention again ; for the narration itself is a very serious matter, there is nothing in it false, all is out of Scripture. Now because he offered to God the firstling and prime of his flock, there came presently fire down from Heaven, and snatched up all that lay upon the altar. But the elder brother did not behave himself in this manner, but out 121 he goes, and reserves for himself the best and first-fruits of his labours, offering the second and the worst to God ; and God accordingly had no respect unto it, but slighted and turned from it : letting it lie still upon the ground ; when as the others he received up to himself. Just as it happens with those who are the stewards and bailiffs over our farmes, when they come to present their fruits : one of them his master honours and brings him into the house, the other he lets stand regardlesse without. Just so it fell out here. But what followed this now ? Why, the elder brother became dejected, and as one that saw himself despised and not approved of, walks melancholy out. And God saves to him, ' Wherefore art thou so sad ? knowest thou not that thou didst offer to God ? why then didst thou me that injury ? What hadst thou to com- plain of ? How comes it to pass that thou offredst the refuse to me ?' Here, if you think fit to descend more to his capacity, you may add, That he having nothing at all to reply, held his peace and answered not a word. A little after this, spying his yonger brother, he sayes to him, ' Come, prithy, let us walk a little out in the fields ;' and when they were there, surprising him treacherously, and being stronger, he kills his poor brother, and thought that he should conceal it all from God. But God comes to him, and asks him, ' Where is thy brother ?' ' What can I tell ?' replies he ; ' Am I my brothers keeper ?' Then sayes God to him, ' Behold thy brother's blood cryes to me from the earth.' Let the mother sit by whilst the mind of the child is moulding with these discourses, that she now and then interpose, and praise that which is recounted. But what followed all this ? God took him up into heaven, and he being dead, lives above for ever. By this means the child will begin to learn the doctrine of the resurrection ; for they use to relate such stories in fables : They made her (sayes one) a demi- goddess, and the child believes it, and though he know not what a demi-god is ; yet he imagines it something which is more then a man, and he wonders presently at the hearing of it • how much more, then, when he shall hear of the resurrection, that his soul ascended into heaven, and that God immediately took him up. But as for the mur- therer, having lived many years after, miserably unfortunate, and conti- R 122 nually In fear and trembling, he suffered innumerable evils, and was i)unished every day. Speak to him concerning the punitiotj with terror, not gently. That he heard God say, ' Thou shalt be groaning and trembling upon the face of the earth.' The ciiild indeed knows not what this signifies at first ; but say it, however. As you, when you stand perplexed before your master, shortly to be whipped, tremble and fear ; so he lived all his hfe-time, after he had thus offended God. And hitherto shall suffice for the first. Afterwards, one evening as you are at supper, talke of this again to him, and let his mother repeat the same things ; and then when he hath heard it several times over, require it of him. ' My son, recite me the story ; and, the more to encourage him, when you find he hath retained it, you shall propose to him some reward. The mind will, indeed, upon the first narration of this history, gather some fruit by you, as you make the deduction. After this, say thus : ' Do you see, child, what a horrible thing it is to envy ones brother ? Do you per- ceive what a crime it is to think one can hide any thing from God ? for he sees all things ; yea, even those things which are committed in secret.' So that sowing this doctrine onely in the child, thou wilt have no need of a pedagogue, since the feare which the Deity doth hereby work in him, will affect the child beyond every other apprehension whatsoever, and extreamly move his mind. But this is not all ; you shall lead him also to church, and then espe- cially when the lesson is read, how you shall perceive him to exult, dance and rejoyce, that what every body does not know he does, out- ruiming in his understanding the words of the minister, and arguing that he knowes that already, and receiving wonderfuU fruit by it. And by this the thing will become sufficiently fixed in his memory. There are many other advantages to be reaped from this narration. Let him be taught, therefore by you, that from the very beginning, from the death of this child, we are instructed not to grieve when we are afflicted, seeing he who was thus accepted, was by death received up into heaven. When this narration shall be well rooted in the mind of the child, introduce another, as that of other two brothers, and say, ' There were also other two brothers, an elder and a younger ; the elder of 123 them was a hunter, the younger was a keeper and lover of home ;' and this hath somewhat of more delight in it then the former (as being full of more variety of emergencies, and the persons whicli manage it being more in yeares then the former). ' Now these were also two brothers, and both of them twins ; but when they were born, the mother loved the younger, but the father was more fond of the elder, who was wont to pass his time abroad in the fields; but the younger kept altogether at home. Upon a day, his father being now very aged, said to him whom he loved, ' Son, seeing I am now an old man, goe thy way, I pray, and prepare for me some venison : that is, take me a ro-buck, or an hare, and bring it to me, that when I have eaten of it I may blesse thee :' but to the younger he said nothing at all. Now the mother over-hearing all that the father said, calls her youngest son, and says to him, ' Son, since thy father has commanded thine elder brother to bring him some venison, that eating of it he may give him his blessing, hearken what I say to thee : hasten immedi- ately to the flock, and fetching thence some young fat kids, bring them hither to me, and I will make such as thy father loves, and thou shalt carry it to him, that when he has tasted of it, he may blesse thee;' for the father was dark through extremity of age. Now when the younger had brought her the kids, his mother stewed them, and putting the viands into a dish, delivers it to her son, who carried it in : and she also clad him with the skins of the goats, least he should be discovered, seeing he was smooth, but his brother was all hairy and rough ; that by this means it might be concealed, and his father not discern the imposture : and thus accoutred, in she sent him. Now the good old man supposing him to have been the elder, having eaten the meat, blessed him. And when he had made an end of blessing him, in comes the elder brother, bringing the venison : but perceiving what had hapned, roaring out aloud, he wept lamental)ly. Observe now what a world of benefit this will produce, and do not recount all the story at once, but see what profit will spring from this. For in the first place, children will learn to reverence their parents, per- ceiving how they contended for the blessing, and will rather endure a thousand stripes then once to hear their father curse them. 124 If you fill their tltoughts with such like stories, so as they may Ima- gine them worthy of beliefe (as indeed they are very truths), how will it not affect and fill them full of reverence ? By this also they will learn to contemne gluttony (for that is likewise to be told them), and that he gained nothing hy being the first-borne and the eldest, since by the intemperance of his belly, he betrayed the excellency of his birth- right. Now when the child shall have throughly reraembred this, upon some other evening, thou shalt require him to repeate this story of the two brothers. And if he begin to speak of Cain and Abell, recall him, and say, ' I do not mean this, but that of the two other, whom the father gave his blessing to;' thus giving him some hints, but without men- tioning the names, and when he has recited it all, add as foUowes, and say, ' Mark now^ what hapned after this : this also sought to have slain his brother, and for that end expected onely his fathers decease ; which the mother coming to hear of, and fearing it, caused her son to flee away.' Much philosophy, far exceeding the apprehension of the child, may be hence (with a little condescention) implanted into the spirit of the child, so that the narration be skilfully and dexterously handled. Thus therefore let us tell him. This same brother went his way, and came to a certain place, having nobody with him, not so much as a servant, no fosterer, no attendant, nor any person besides. Being arrived to the place, he praved, and said, ' O Lord, give me, I beseech thee, bread and clothing, and save me ;' and having said thus, overcome with sorrow, he fell asleep ; and there he saw in a dream a ladder reaching up from the earth to the heavens, and the angels of God ascending and descending, and God himself standing at the top of all. Then he said, ' Bless me ;' and he blessed him, and called him Israel. It comes happily into my mind, and now I remember, that from the very names another instruction mav be inserted, and what is that ? viz. That from the apj)ellatlons we presejitly introduce a certain emulation of vertue in children. Let none, therefore, be forward to name their chil- dren for the memory of their fathers, or mothers, or grandfathers : but of the righteous, of the martyrs, bishops, and apostles. Be this also their emulation ; let this child be called Peter, that John, and another 125 by the appellation of some holy man, and talke not to me of the Gentll names ; for (believe it) it is no small reproach, and worthy of derision, when in a Christian family some heathen ceremonies are performed, and they light up the lamps, and watch which of them shall first go out and be spent, with other the like fopperies, which bring no little detri- ment to those which practise them ; for do not imagine that these are small matters or trifles which are done. This, therefore, I require of you, that you impose the names of the righteous upon your children, for it was the custom in the beginning (not without reason) that they called their children by the names of their ancestors, it being a kind of coi»solation against mortality, that he which was gone seemed still to live, by reason of his name : but now this custom is quite out of request. Truly we see that the righteous did not so call their children, for Abraham begat Isaac : Jacob and Moses were not called after their ancestors names, nor do we find any of the just so called. O what an example will here be of virtue, of consolation, and of exhortation. And moreover neither do we find any other cause of changing names besides this only, that it may be a monument of virtues. Thou, saith he, shalt be called Cephas, which is, being expounded, Peter *. Why so ? Because thou didst confesse. And thou shalt be called Abraham. Why so ? Because thou art a father of nations f. And Israel, because he did see God ;};. Hence, therefore, let us begin our care over our children, and institute their lives. But as I said, he saw a ladder reaching to the heavens and touching it; let the names therefore of the saints enter into your houses, by the appellations of your children, that by this means it may not alone com- pose the manners of the children, but of the fathers also ; when he shall remember himself to be the son of John, of Elias, of Jacob, seeing those names were circumspectly and piously imposed, and for the honour of those that are departed. Thus, therefore, let us court the affinity of the righteous rather then of our progenitors. This likewise will be very beneficial both to us and * Mat. c. 16. V. 18. t Gen, c. 17. v. 5. + Gen. c. 3^. v. "s. 126 our children : nor because the instance is small, think it to be small ; for the supposition is exceedingly profitable. But, as I said, let us pro- ceed to that which follows. He spied a ladder fixed, he sought for a blessing, and God did bless him : He travelled to his kindred, and became a shepherd to his kinsman, then treated with him concerning a wife, and of his return. And here also there will result a world of advantage ; observe but what a deal he will learn. That being nobly born, he despise no man, not to be ashamed of poverty, that he bear adversity couragiously, and then all the rest. After this, when he is a little older, relate things that are more terrible ; but being as yet tender, impose not such a burthen on him, lest thou too much terrific and abash him ; but when he bas attained to fifteen years old, or shall be grown bigger, let him hear of the pains of hell; and when he is about ten, or eight, or less, tell him what happened at the Deluge, of Sodome, of .^gypt, which examples are full of severity, and acquaint him with all these particulars at large. Being then grown bigger, instruct him in matters of the New Testament, of Grace, of Hell. By these and sundry other narrations and familiar examples, guard and secure his ears. ' But if any man come in with a false tale, by no means (as I said) let him be admitted. If you find a servant speaking filthily before him, chastise him for it immediately, and be thy self a severe and bitter censor of whatsoever evil they do. But if by chance thou espy a young maid (yea rather let there be no such approach him), let her not so much as light the fire; uidess it be some old woman, which has nothing to attract a young man. From a young maid, I say, flie rather then from the fire ; and by this means it will come to pass, that he which hears nothing impertinent, will speak nothing impertinent. Thus, therefore, let them be brought up. But we proceed now to another port — the Smelling : for this also brings a very great inconvenience with it, unless timely barr'd ; such are odours and incense ; there being nothing which more dissolves the frame and tenor of the mind, nothing that more softens it, then if thou be affected with sweet smells. What, then, says he, ' ought one to take pleasure in dirt ?' I do not say so ; but neither with this nor that. Let none therefore bring him sweet ointments, for as soon as that 127 once affects the brain, it eflFeminates and softens all the rest : hence also lusts are incited, and in that do lurk innumerable snares. Therefore lock up that gate securely. For the faculty of smelling is to breathe the air, not to receive perfumes. Some there are which peradventure will deride all this, as though whllest we discourse of this nurture, we trouble ourselves about trifles : but in truth the matter is not small ; but the very basis, instruction, and institution of the whole world, that these things be duly performed. There is likewise another gate, more specious then the former, but of exceeding difficulty to guard, namely, that of the eyes, as being rais'd on high, set in the front and beautified. This has many smaller leaves, by which it not onely sees but is seen, if it be gallantly framed. Here then there is great necessity of laws, one of the principal whereof let be, never to send the child to the theater, lest thereby he receive an entire overthrow at once, both by the ears and by the eyes : and let his attendant observe this especially in the markets, and whitest he passes through the by-lanes and streets, carefull that he never fall into that debauchery. Now to the end he may receive no harm by being seen, there are divers things to be considered. Deprive him of all over-costly apparel and superfluous ornaments, let him wear his hair modestly short, and if the boy take it hainously, as if he were dis- figured by it, teach him this first, That it is the greatest ornament. Now that he may not gaze, sufficient to preserve him will be those stories of the Sons of God, which happened on the Daughters of Men, and of the Sodomites, Hell, and such like instances. Here then must the Governour and he that waits on him, be wonderfull carefull and soUicitous, shew him therefore other beautifuU objects, drawing away his eyes from these things : such as are the heavens, the stars, the flowers of the earth, the meadows, fair books, &c. : these therefore let him delight his eyes withall; and there are many other objects besides, which are very inoffensive : for it is a Port extreamly difficult to guard; for as much as it has a fire burning within, and a kind of natural neces- sity as I may say. Teach him some divine verses. And thus, unless he be inwardly incited, he will not care to be seen abroad. Be sure that be never bath with women, it is a very wicked custome : neither 128 permit him to haunt their company. Let him often hear the whole history of Joseph, and now learn the things which concern the king- dom of Heaven : what a garland there's laid up for those which are chast. Promise him a beautifull wife, and that you will make him your heir; but menace all the contrary, if you find him disobedient: And talk thus to him : ' We shall never procure you, son, a virtuous wife, unless you shew a great deal of circumspection, and an access of virtue. If you persevere, I will quickly marry you :' but especially it he be taught to abhor filthy speeches, he has galn'd from above a very excellent foundation of modesty. Discourse to him of the pulchritude of the mind, make him resolute against women. Tell him 'tis a dis- ingenuous thing to be despis'd of a slavish maid, and that much more circumspection is requir'd in a youth. When any man speaks, he is known ; but he that sees onely is not known. For this is a very quick sense, and one sitting amongst many persons is able to take which of them he pleases with one onely dart of his eye. Let him therefore have no converse with woman-klnde, his mother onely excepted. SuiFer him to behold no woman. Give him no gold, let nothing that is sordid once enter into him : but teach him to contemn pleasure, and all such like things. There is yet another gate behind, which hath no resemblance to the former, but which goes through the whole body. We call It the Touch. Indeed one would imagine it shut, yet as if it were of all the rest the most open, it admits entrance to all. Let us neither suffer this to be acquainted either with soft clothing or bodies ; render him more hardy, we are bringing up a champion, and let us seriously mind it. Permit him neither to use soft coverings, nor soft garments, and thus let mat- ters be ordered. Go to then, and entering into this city let us prescribe laws, and make ordinances ; for now the gates are in posture : and in the first place take we diligent notice of the houses, and of the lodgings where the citizens remain, those which are circumspect, and those which are dis- solute. They report that the place and habitation of anger is the breast, and the heart, which is in the breast, concupiscence in the liver, and 129 the understanding in the brain. The first is both a virtue and a vice. Sobriety and modesty is a virtue ; rashness and morosity a vice. Like- wise the virtue of concupiscence is chastity ; luxury a vice. The virtue of the intellect is prudence, the vice, folly. Let us therefore have a care that virtues be produced in those places, and that they brinff forth such as are good, not evil citizens. For these aflFections are as it were the very parents of all our cogitations. But let us now proceed to the tyrant, anger : for neither is that to be altogether cut off in a youth, nor upon all occasions to be used. But thus let us instruct him from the cradle, that being injur'd he bear it patiently, and that when they perceive another man wronged, they stoutly revenge it, and according as the person is depressed, in a due and convenient manner take his part. But how should this be, when they are train'd up to it in their own servants.'' Being under-valu'd, are not impatient, being disobey'd are not outrageous ; but rather vin- dicate that which is committed against others. But in these cases let the father be always arbiter, and when they transgress the orders it behoves him to be sharp and severe, as when they perform and observe them rightly, to be kind and gentle, enticing and alluring the child with many rewards : for with this method God governs the world, by the fear of hell, and the promises of the kingdom ; and so should we our children, permitting them to be vexed now and then, for the exercise and tryal of their patience, that they may learn how to govern their passions amongst the domesticks. And as in a wrestling place, before they play the prize, tiiey daily exercise with their companions, that making their party good with them, they may the more easily vanquish their antagonists : so should a child be educated at home. And let his father or his brother fre- quently cross his humours above all the rest, and exceedingly contend for the victory, or else some other defend him that he may be exercised in that other person ; thus the servants may occasionally provoke him, right or wrong, that so he may be taught every where to moderate and qualifie his passion ; seeing if the father onely incite him, it will be no such great matter ; for the very name of father prgepossessing the mind does not suffer him to turn again and make head ; but let his com- 130 panions and servants, and such as are Ingenuously born do it, that by them he may be taught moderation. There is yet another. What is that ? When ever he is angry, put him in mind of his proper passions : when he is offended against a ser- vant, whether he himself never committed a fault, and what he would be if he were in his place. But in case he find him striking a servant, meet him with revenge ; and if he extreamly wrong him, chastise him again for it ; never suiFer him to be too soft and remiss ; nor over chur- lish and morose, in as much as he is a man, and should be affable and courteous. Sometimes, indeed, he may have a worthy occasion for his anger, as if hereafter he should have children of his own, or himself be a master of servants, in such a condition anger were very usefull. Then onely it is unprofitable when we revenge our selves. And therefore Paul never made use of it himself, but for their sakes only who suf- fered the wrong. Thus Moses, seeing his brother injured*, had recourse to his anger, and that stoutly, being yet of all men the most meek j", but when afterward he was himself injured, he did not revenge it, but fled away. These discourses inculcate into him. For whilst we are thus trimming the gates, they have great need of such plain narrations. But when entringe into the city, we begin to discipline the citizens, 'twill then be fit to discourse to them of sublimer matters. But let this law be fixed in him, that he never revenge himselfe being injured or wronged, nor ever permit him to despise another who sufFereth the like. His very father shall become better, who by teaching him in these matters may himself be instructed ; or in case he do it for no other end, he shall become better then himself, least he set a bad example before his child. And therefore let him learn to be despised, and to suffer contempt, exacting nothing of the servants, because himself is free born ; but upon many occasions serve rather himself. Let his servants take care only of such things as he cannot so handsomely perform in person : for instance, a gentleman should not be his own cook ; for it is not decent that, quitting those studies which become a gentleman, he should give his mind to this inferior employment. But if there be occa- * Exod. ii. 12. t Niim. xii. 3. 131; slon to wash his feet, never let him make use of a servant, let himself do it. And by this means thou shalt render him ingenuous, mild, and amiable to the servants. Nor permit any body to bring him his clothes, nor in the bath to use any ceremony to him ; but let him perform there all necessaries himself. This will make the youth robust, not disdain- ful, but affable and meek. Teach him also those things which concern nature; what a servant is, what a freeman. Say to him, child, there was heretofore no servants in the dayes of our fore-fathers ; 'twas sin that introduced servitude : but because one was irreverent towards his father*, there was this punishment inflicted upon him, that he should be his brothers servant ; beware, therefore, lest thou become the servant of servants : for if you be implacable and furious as they were, and in all things follow their example, and hast nothing of virtue more then them, neither shalt thou have any thing of excellency or preheminence above them. Strive, therefore, that tiiou mayest become their master, not upon this account, but by thy manners and education, least being free-born thyself, thou become their servant. Perceive you not how many fathers have disinherited their children, and adopted their vassals in their stead ? Take heed least any such thing should happen to you. Truly I neither desire nor wish it. They are as yet either of them in your power. And in this sort qualifie his passion ; perswading him so to dej)ort himself to his servants as to his brothers. And thus instruct him concerning the laws of nature, repeating to him the words of Job : If ever (sayes he f) I dispised the cause of my man-servant, or of my maid-servant, when they contended with me ; what then shall I do when God makes enquiry, and when he visiteth what shall I answer him ? Are they not fashion'd in the womb as I am J ? For we are made in the same womb. And again, if my maidens often said, who shall give us to be filled with his flesh, I being very mild. Think you that of Paul § was for nothing? He who knows not how to govern his own house is not fit to rule in the Church. Say therefore, if at any time his style be lost, or his pen be broken * Gen. ix. 25. f Job, xxxi. 13. ♦ Job, xxxi. 31. § 1 Tim. iii. 5. 132 by his servant : be not presently in choler, nor mis-call him, but be rather gentle and easle to be intreated. Thus from smaller things thou shalt with ease support greater losses. Or if a book-string be spoyl'd, or a brazen clasp, boys take the losses of these things impatiently, and had rather lose their very lives than suffer so great an injury to go unreveng'd : here therefore let their asperity be mitigated ; for well you know, that he who on these accidents is patient and contented will easily, being a man, undergo all other disasters. When he has then gotten a table-book made of some curious wood, pure and white, adorn'd with brazen-chains, and finely polished brazen pens, shining like any silver, or the like toys ; and that the boy which attends him happening to lose any of them, you perceive him not mov'd at it, 'tis an evident and certain indication of philosophy and great wis- dome. Nor do thou upon this buy him new immediately, lest thou extinguish his passion ; but when you shall perceive he bears the want of it handsomly, and is not much concern'd with it, then repair his losses. Believe it, we do in this no trifling matter. The discourse concerns no less then the polity of the world itself. If he have a younger bro- ther, instruct him to suffer him to be preferred in honour before him : but if he have none, then some servant : for even this likewise is a point of the greatest philosophy. So therefore mitigate and asswage his anger, that it may suggest to us meek cogitations : for when he shall not let his affections run out upon any thing, when he shall need no mans service, when he shall envy no man's being preferr'd in honour before him, what room will there be left for anger ? It is now time that we speak of concupiscence. Here also chastity is two-fold, and the violation of it a double loss. I conceive that young men should neither be dishonestly loved, nor dishonestly love young maids. Physitlans say, that presently after the fifteenth year youths are vehemently inflamed with the lust of concupiscence. How shall we now fetter this beast? What is there to be done? What bridle shall we put on it ? I know of no other then the fear of hell It self. First therefore, let us be carefull that he neither see nor hear any thing which is filthy ; nor by any means suffer an ingenuous youth to frequent the 133 theater. But if he seek for these pleasures, if you know of any his contemporaries which deny themselves that vanity, shew them to him, that by their example he may be reduced : for there is nothing in the world which does sooner redi'esse it then emulation, no, not any. And in every thing else let us observe this rule, especially if you perceive him to be of an emulous disposition. It is a great deal more effectual then either fear or promises, or whatsoever else. To these let us devise some other innocent divertisements, bring him to holy men, grant him relaxation, and give him rewards, that thereby his mind may be the less troubled at it ; and instead of these spectacles propose to him some pleasant story, talk to him of meadows, of sump- tuous buildings, and afterwards wheel off your discourse with an appli- cation. Tell him, these spectacles, son, are for base and servile per- sons, to behold naked women speaking immodestly. Promise me that thou wilt not hear nor say any thing that is dishonest, and I permit thee to go : but it cannot be, it is impossible that thou shouldest there hear nothing which is vile. The things that are there acted, are unworthy thy eyes, my son. And in saying this, let us kiss and embrace him, that he may perceive how dearly we love him. With all these stratagems let us entice him. What then ? As I said already, let a young maid never approach him, nor do any service about him, but some ancient maid or woman that is well stricken in years. Discourse to him concerning the kingdome, and of such as have been illustrious for their chastity, as well those without the pale as amongst ourselves ; and with these let us perpetually fill his ears ; nav, if we have servants that excel in chastity and sobriety, propose them likewise for examples, seeing'it would be a great reproach, that a ser- vant should be modest, and that a fi'ce person, a gentleman, slioultl be sordid. There is yet another expedient, and what is it ? Let him learn to fast, if not always, yet twice a week, Wednesdays and Frydays at least. Cause him to frequent the church. And when the father walks with him abroad, towards the evening, at the time that the shows are done and the theatres are dissolved, let him show him those that are coming away, and laugh at the old fools who as yet have not the dis- 134 cretlon of striplings, and at the young men who are fired with filthy lusts. Then let him ask the boy, what he thinks all they have gain'd ? Truly nothing at all but shame, infamy, and damnation. This will prove of no small importance to chastity, that he abstain both from the spectacles and from the discourse. But besides all this, let him be taught another thing, and that is, that he pray to God with all diligence and compunction. And say not to me, that these things are not imployments for a child ; a child is not capable of this : yes, a child, especially if of a quick understanding, and encouraged, is very capable of it. Amongst the ancient we find many such examples ; as Daniel, and Joseph ; and tell not me that Joseph was seventeen years old, but consider before that age for what he was so dear to his fatber ; and that he was more fond of him than of all his elder brethren ? Was not Jacob himself the younger ? Jere- mias, Daniel but twelve years old * ; was not Solomon also of the same age when he made that wonderful prayer -f ? Did not Samuel, being but a very boy, teach his master J ? Let us not then be discouraged. If any one indeed be a child in understanding, he is not capable of this, not if he be a child in years. Instruct him therefore to pray with much compunction, and to watch likewise, as much as will stand to health, and by all means let there be imprinted on him, being a child, the character of an holy man. For he that is not addicted to swearing, nor being provoked to return inju- ries, to reproach no body, to hate none ; but gives his mind to fasting, and is assiduous in his prayer, shall from these be sufficiently furnished to chastity. And in case thou destine him to a secular life, provide a wife betimes, nor defer it till he be InroUed amongst the souldiers, or that he hath attained to some office in the commonwealth, before thou consider of it ; but settle his thoughts first, and then proceed to secure his glory, which is but a worldly business. Dost thou imagine it of so small a concernment to marriage, that a virgin be joyn'd to a virgin? Truly, it doth not a little concern also the very wifes chastity, not to speak of the young mans also. Shall not this render their affisction the * Dan. xiii. 45. f 3 R^g- >"• 4. X I Reg- "•• 1- 135 more pure ? and, which is above all this, will not God himself be then more propitious, and fill that marriage with a thousand benedictions, when they thus meet together as he has commanded, and will make them cordially to love one another ? Whilest he is detained by this affection, he will laugh at all other women ; if when you commend the virgin for her beauty and vertue, and all other endowments, you shall then adde, that she will never endure him if once she but understand him to be an idle person ; here- upon, as touch'd in his highest concernments, he will put forth his utmost diligence. For if that holy man, being deceived of his wife, so loved her as yet to serve seven years more for her, nay fourteen years, how much more should we ? Tell him, that all that belong to the virgin, the father, the mother, servants, all the neighbours and friends, are strict observers of his behaviour and actions, and all will relate it to his virgin. With this obligation bind him ; 'twill prove an effectual preservative to the child. So that in case it should not be so conve- nient to give him a wife very young, let him yet be espoused to one at least from the first ; this will make him strive to excel in goodness, this alone is sufficient to banish all vice. There is likewise another excellent guard to chastity, that he perpe- tually frequent the Bishop of the Church, and from him receive many encouragements ; and of this let his father glory to all that hear it ; let the virgins seeing him, look on him with a reverend esteem : besides, the discourses and the awe of his father, the promises which are made, and with these the rewards reposited for him of God, with all those be- nefits which the chast shall be made partakers of, will extreamly hinder and repress all lubricity in this kind. To this you may add, the gallant atchievements in war and in peace, and to these things studiously direct your discourse, continually de- claiming against vice and luxury, and bringing it into contempt. It will much conduce to the repute of chastity, and all these particulars wonderfully restrain the mind of the young man, and produce in us most chast cogitations. There is one more yet remaining, let us therefore now proceed to that which is the chief of all, and which keeps all entire ; and what Is that ? 136 namely, prudence. Here must be infinite care used, that he be discreet, and that he abandon and banish all folly ; and this is a special and grand point of philosophy ; that he comprehend those things which are divine, and what there is laid up for the future : of hell, and the things which concerne the kingdome of heaven, since the beginning of wisdome is the fear of the Lord*. Let us therefore establish this point of prudence in him, that he be also intelligent in humane affairs : what riches are, what glory, what power, to the end he may learn how to contemn them, and set his affec- tions upon things which are of highest concernment. Let us often remember him of the good instructions which have been given him, and say, son, fear God alone, and besides him fear none other. And thus he will emerge a prudent and a gracious person. There is nothing in the world that renders a man more a fool, then these vices -, the fear of God is alone sufficient to make thee wise, and to have such a judge- ment in secular and humane affairs as is necessary. This, this is the very sum and top of all wisdome, that he be not taken up with imper- tinent and childish vanities. Teach him therefore that riches avail nothing, worldly glory nothing, power nothing ; nothing, death ; nothing this present life. Thus he shall indeed become a wise man. And if, educated in this manner, we conduct him to his nuptials, con- sider how noble a portion thou bringest to his bride. But let us now celebrate the marriage, not with pipes and harps, and dancing ; with these kind of things to disgrace the bridegroom thus educated, it is highly incongruous. Let us rather invite Christ thither, such a bridegroom is worthy of him ; let us bid his Disciples : these things well become him. And now let him henceforth thus learn to instruct his own children, and so educate them ; and they theirs ; and thus it will become a golden chain indeed. Let us also promote him to offices in the commonwealth, such as he hath abilities to undergo, and such as do not minister to vice. Or whether it be any charge in the army, let him learn to gain nothing sordidly. Or whether he patronize the cause of those which are wronged, or * Eccles. i. 16. J 37 whatever else he undertakes. That his mother learn likewise to Instruct and discipline her daughters after the same manner, and to avert their thoughts from superfluous attires and fashions, from the world, and from whatsoever else are the ])ropcr marks of lewd women and strumpets. Let lilm manage all things hy this rule, and wean as well the youth as the maid from pleasure and ebrlety ; for even this also will be of great effect towards chastity ; there being nothing which doth more molest and trouble young men, then concupiscence; nothing more young women, then haughtiness and lux of apparel. Thus therefore let us order and compose all these things, that so we may please Almighty God, whilst we bring him up such champions, and that we and our children may attain those promises which he hath made to them that love him : and all this through the grace and benig- nity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom with the Father and the Holy Spirit be glory and honour now and ever, and to eternal ages. Amen. 138 NOTES UPON SOME PASSAGES. JVAI KOfirjv be oTTicrOev aipieis els Kijprjs ayQjjia, &c. And thou dost nourish him a lock of hair behind like a girle, &c. Goar in Rituali sive Euchologia Gracorum, recites an office in T()ixoKovpia, or the detonsion of a child : but it was neither monachal nor clerical, but the common cut; and it seems the custom was introduced to avert the Gentile superstition. Athanasius quast. 28 dictor. St interpretat. Parabolarum Evangel. JLliodaaiv o("E\Xjjves icai airoKeipeiv twv irai&wv ras Kopv(pa.i, Ktu Toiis f^uWovs ey.v cat tovtovs fierii ■)(pui'ov aya-idiyat rols balfioai. The Heathen (Greeks) were wont to shave the crowns of their children, and to have their locks to hang down, which after a space of time they did consecrate to (divels) idols. This heathenish superstition, which the Latine and Greek humane authors attest, St. Chrysostom here intends, and the later Greeks did transfer into Christianism, either by consecrating them, as first-fruits unto the true God, or as signifying their surrendering themselves to the service of God : or rather, uncovering their head, as the Apostle enjoynes that sex : and there was to that end not only 'Eiix'i els ro Kovpevaai Trnltci ; but also for the other sex, Euj^() e-m to apabritraadai (.e^aX)))' yvtm'iKa. This primary tonsure was with the godfather. And of old they consecrated their first-shorn locks to Apollo (going often in person to Delphos), to j'Esculapius, or their country rivers, as Lucian testifies. Plut. in vit. Thes. And Martial, lib. 1, ep. 32, Hos tibi Phoebe vovet lotos a vertice crines Encolpits, dnmini ccnturionis amor, Grata pudens meriti tulerit cum preemia pili. ^ Quam primum tongas Phabe recide comas, Dum nulld ieneri sordent lanugine vultus, Duiny; decent fusee lactea colla juice, Utq; tuis longum domimisq; pue'rq; fruatur Muneribus, tonsumfac cith, sera virum. But their beastly Catamits, with their monstrous heads of hair, were in great esteem amongst the lu.\urious Romans ; whence that of the poet, Si nemo tribunal I'endit Acersecomes Juvenal, lib. 3. Sat. S. Which when they grew old they used to colour, as apj)ears by that witty Epigram, In Lentinum. Mentiris juvenem tinctis, Lentine, cajiillis : Turn subitb corviis, qui niodv cygnus eras P Non omnesfallis, scit te Proserpina canum, Personam capiti detrahet ilia luo. iMart. 1. ;j. ep. 32. Which I add in reproof of some old men in our days, who to the reproach of gravity, and that reverend blessing, being now descending to the sepulchre, do yet mentiri juvenem, and would be thought boyes. But of these customes let the reader consult Papinius, Festus Pompeius, Junius, and the most learned Salmasius. I pass them over. 139 Koor/ ev T(a daXafii^ rw /.irirpiKu irabevde'taa Trpbs Kuafiov eTTTorjaQai yvyaiKelov, &C. A maid when in her mother's chamber she hath learned to long after these various tires and ornaments of women, being gone out of her father's house, becomes impertinent to her husband, and very troublesom, &;c. This reproof is parallel to that of the Satyrist, but with less acerbity, more modesty and gravity. Expectas ut non sit adultera Larga Filia ; quie nunquam malernos dicere machos Tarn cito, ncc tanto poterit contexere cursu, Ut nun ter decies respiret ? Conscia matri Virgo fuit; ceras nunc hac diclante picsiUas Implet, Sr ad Machum dat eisdemferre cinadis. Sic natura jubet ; velociils 3t cilius nns Corrumpunt vitiorum exempla domestica magnis Chm subcant animos auctoribus Juv. Sat. 14. So true is that of the Orator, Plus homines exemplo quam peccato nocent. And especially parents whose lewd examples children are many times too prone to imitate. Aeyovrai ol papyapirai orav evdeais \r](l>diu]v ircppaytia eiriTldeaOat. ^nd upon whatsoever he siiith or does ta put a seat. Crucis consignalio, as Comhefis ; and the acccption of this word in the PJixobarbarous Greek, is in that sense, as in the Latine Ecclesiastical Writers signaculum, and signare. But to skrue it so high as 2 Cor. 1. 22. Kal acppayiaufjiei'os >ipui, &c. j4nd hath sealed IIS, &c. is farther then will be evinced upon any probable grounds of reason. That in tliis place it mav signifie no more then what was before expressed, els Trpoaevxits aypvn-yc'iy, I am at an indiffer- ence, if not propension to believe ; comparing it with a sentence of very near affinity in Nilus, a great admirer of S. Chrysostom, Tld(Tav pev Trpti^iv bia 7rpf)o-ci/x'7s (T(j>payiSe' tcivttjv bi yudXXoi' ep' y Tov Xoympov Qewpeis I'lpipiftaXXovTa. Thus men should consecrate all their undertakings. 'Oviey yap wi^eXeT ridevai vupovs, eav prj Kal // e(.S(\;y(r(s cttoito. For 'lis to no purpose to enact laws unlesse punishment be also inflicted, &c. Conformable to that of the Lyrick. Nullis poUuitur casta domus stupns : Mos, Si lex maculosum edomuit nefas : Laudantur simili prole Puerpercc. Culpam pccna premit comes. Hor. lib. 4. Od. 5. Such was the Lex Julia de Multeriis severely inflicted upon the offenders j for Si non supplicio culpa reciditur ? Quid leges sine moribus Vana: proficiunt? Hor. 1. 3, od. 24. MiydSes, such are called Mesfiso's. The Israelites were to be a pure and separate people. Exod. 12. 38. Kal i-n-ipiKTos TToXvs avyavefti] avro'ts, &c. jind a mixed multitude went up, S;c. Numb. 11.1. Kai o iTTipiKTos 6 ev aiiTo'is ivedvpriaey intOvpiav, &C. ^nd a n^ixt multitude that 140 was among them lufted a lual. Such a one was the blasphemer, Levit. 24. 10. He was Hybrida, of an Egyptian father anil Israelitish mother. Nehem. 13 3. i-ui ty^ijifnadT^crav iras eTr/^iicros iv I-TpaiiX. It was upon hearing the law that they were separated from Israel all the mixed mul- titude. O't rpoipe'is. Altores, Nulritii. Nursing fathers. It seems to be an employment about young Nobilily ; S. Chrysostom, the Chief Bishop of Constantinople, seems to direct the education of the chililrcn of Noblemen and Gentry of great quality ; he mentions a garb of attendants — their -poijie'is. This office he sets down as the first Impression eic Kpjjwibos, & t'^ apx'/s- I suppose a nurse ai d foster-father taken into the house. IlaiSaywyos, a Governor ; 'AkuXovBos, a Page ; besides other oiVtrat, domestick attendants. So that of Jacob, ovbiya eyjuiv /xeO' eavrov, oh bovXov, oh rpotpia, oh TTaihayiiyyov, ovk o\Xo»' oviiva, &c. Huvius 110 body u-ith him, not so much as a servant, no fosterer, no attendant, nor any person beside, &c. Kai TTpoXafijiovot'-a, i.ai tTriyiriio-cojra, Out-running iw his vnderstanding the uords of the Mini- ster, Sfc. Not occupantem, Legetem, as Combcfis. The author speaks of a child (if I understand aright) that hath been instructed by narrations from his father and mother, not yet arrived to those years that he hath learned to read ; for it is a question, whether the Greeks were so very forward in putting their children to read and write as we now are. Besides, tiriyifwakw does not signifie to read, though t'ooynwirka) do: but agnosco, to own or declare that 1 knew such a person for- merly. Recorder, to call to mind : here it is either by gesture in the church, importing that he knew the history before, or afterwards to recount to his parents when he comes from church. rpcii^>ls, called also Trooaypai^is, ypafc'toy, -irokis, called irviiov. The aXi/iris \aXK)], I suppose, bound up the Tahella, and fastened the Style too ; for which use was sometimes (as appears before) /'/xas, Corrigia, or Lornm. Toys be yufiovs Troiwjuer fii) peril avXwf, pt) peril Kitiapas, pijbe peril 6p^7jparo)i'. But let us cele- brate the marriage, not with pipes, and harps, and dancing, Stc Pertinent to which passage is that in- comparable Homily of this Father, torn. 5, lib. 2.5, p. 321. Edit. S'lvil. too long to recite, but most worthy of the reading; and such a wedding was that of Cana in Galilee, at which our B. Savior was present, John. ii. To conclude, there is 'E(.\oy() Trepi iraihtay a>'a-poi']s. Chrys. Savil. torn. 7, p S23 ; but it does :iot contain any part of this work ; yet points it to other places of this Father, where upon the same subject are used phiases harmonious to. some of these. CHARACTER OF ENGLAND, AS IT WAS LATELY PRESENTED IN A LETTER TO A NOBLEMAN OF FRANCE. REFLECTIONS UPON '« CALLUS CASTRATUS." THE THIRD EDITION. (ORIOINALLY PRINTED IN lGh\.) LONDON PRINTED FOR JOII.S" CROOKE, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT THE SHIP IN ST. PAULS CHURCH-YARD. 1659. LETTER IN VINDICATION OF THIS " CHARACTER," AGAINST THE SORDID REPROACHES OF " GALLUS CASTRATUS. Madame, I HERE transmit you the " Character of France*," in which it must be confess'd, as he renders to his antagonist in civility, so is he supe- rior to him in fancy and baudry : and it cannot but extreamly please the Monsieur, to see the zeal and anger of this Mirmillo discharge itself upon his person to so little purpose, who has been so civill to our Country, and to all who can pretend to worth and vertue in it ; that in my judgment, had he spared the gentleman, his observations had as much obliged that Nation in some particulars as the " Character -f-" has our own, in so charitably shewing us our avowed deformities, and the ex- pedients to redresse them. But I beseech you, Madame, could you ima- gine, that if there had been the least period in the Monsieur which reflected on your fair sex. it had been left to this pitifull champion to defend your honours ? I protest, I have confronted them with the best skill I have, and not without some animositie ; and seriously, when I * A small Tract, intituled "A Character of France;" to which is added Gallus Castratus, or an Answer to a late slanderous Pamphlet called " The Character of England." London, 1659. t The great raritj' of the Answer to this equally scarce Tract, has been the principal motive for its insertion in the present Collection of Evelyn's smaller pieces. Although the above appears in the list of his Works attached to his Memoirs in Dr. Kippis's edition of the Biographia Britannica, whence it has been copied by all the subsequent writers of his Life, it is not mentioned in his Memoirs recently published, nor in the list of his productions which he sent to his friei;d Dr. Plot, in a letter dated IGth March, 16S2-3 ; and on that account some have considered it as apochry- phal. The extracts from the Diary introduced as notes to the preceding Tract, will however form a chain of illustrative evidence to jirove that it is the genuine production of Evelyn's pen. "Gallus Castratus, an Answer to a Slanderous Pamphlet, called the Character of England. 144 consider what the "Character" has spoken of our Country in generall, and with what decent reserves he has treated your sex in particular, that but pretend to vertue, I am sure your La'' cannot be offended at his reproofes, because so httle concerned with them ; and that none but the guilty will condemne so civill a declamation, which has nothing of asperity in it but that which is proper for the cure of what both you and I, and thousands more, have frequently deplored. Juvenal and Persius did the same to their own country which this stranger has done to us, and have been celebrated these 1500 yeares for their service ; and shall we be the only ungratefull ? The hope is, the reply Is penn'd in so coarse a style, that there will not be found words in all the French tongue to let them know we have so foule a mouth amongst us, or your honours so weak an advocate. But it seemes the offence is not universal), for I am cre- dibly informed by a person of quaHty, and much integrity, that heard alfearned and sober preacher quote the "Character" in his sermon, and reproach the people for their irreverent behaviour in the church in the very language of that book, which being asserted to me by a lady who was her self an auditor, is enough to discharge it of the blasphemy which this impure insect imputes to it, and to give it the reputation of a pre- cious balme, a sober and just reproof. But 1 say no more, least whilst 1 am advocate for the stranger, I be- come the subject of this scorpion ; which I had yet rather be, than in the catalogue of his worthies, if such monsters as the last he mentions bring up the arriere, whose fanatick impieties he would palliate by his Phari- Si talia nefanila et facinora quis non Demoaitus. London : Printed for Nalh. Brooke, at the Angel in Cornhill, 1659. " To the illustrious Starres of Glory, the incomparable Beauties of the English Nation. These with a deep humiliiy. " Gallus Custrutiis, &c. — Ladies, To make a hue and cry, or research after this Sat\rist, were to enquire after yesterda\ es air, or tlie last evenings sun : since the per])etrating a sin against cha- rity and divine beauty, hath occasioned him to conceal his unworthy name ; yet by your permission (fair Ladies) I shall adventure a throw after him, so as to bestow on him a character not unworthy of his fact. " He may be thought one of the di-lodged brood of wandering Cain, who having sinned in good, sets his hand against all for bad ; such of these are true sons of the Curse, they bring biambles for violets, and thorns for roses : desperate persons to converse with, as infectious in their souls, as in their 145 saicall censure of the Monsieur ; for having reproved nothing but what this wasp must needes blush to have vindicated, if he were a true sonn of the Church of England, and not a scabbed sheep of some other flock. In summe, I defer no more to his wit then to his wisdome ; for it seemes he has replied with as little moderation as the Monsieur with method : at least, I wish he had distinguished better, and given him lesse subject to suspect him of the offspring of Billings-gate ; so ungen- tlemanlike he raiies, that in the next edition of Mr. Wren *, his epithetes may happen to be added to the elegancies of Mr. Harrington -f, of whose schoole and complexion he appears to be. For the rest, I read him with patience; but as the justice of my nature transports me, could wish to have seen the product of the " Character " result in a due deploring of what is really amisse amongst us, and not in empty recriminations, which serves to no other end than to harden us in our follies, and Steele us with the metall of his own forehead. But thus the urinall is cast into the physitians face, and he becomes our enemy who tells us the truth ; verifying rather the signature of one of Solomons fooles than at all treating the Monsieur as an ingenuous person should do, and had become him that intended not rather to justify the errours we are guilty of, than to acknowledg and reform them. Madame, I shall add no more than to tell you, that if any worthy persons think themselves agreiv'd, and have the leisure to revenge us upon the French, there are witts of our Nation, and devotos of yours, of another allay than this trifler, and who can tell how to make a better election of what is their limbs ; a traveller, that makes it his business to deface the glories of nature, not to admire and adore them ; a frothy wit, not consenting to its captivity, hath in his caprichios snorted his foam upon the sweet face of this blessed Island ; the method he pretends too, for he hath none, was sure begot in a hirricano, where, being frighted by his conscience, he thrusts things together a la negligence ; a brat only born to die accursed, and to shew to the world that France hath of late her monsters as well as Africa. " His end I cannot remark, except like Erostratus to purchase a fame, though by the vilest infamy, or to engage a smile from those (bandittors to nature) the rude offspring of a brothel or a dunghill ; * Matthew Wren, eldest son of the Bishop of Ely, and author of " Considerations on Mr. Har- rington's Commonwealth of Oceana." 8vo. 1659. t James Harrington, an eminent political writer, and author of " Oceana." 1656. Folio. U 146 reprehensible in them, with more becoming tearmes, and equall charity ; but that he may not altogether despair, now the bolt is shot, the onely way to render him usefiiU (if so you think he may be), is to separate his quibbles from his scurrility ; and by a second perusall of the Mon- sieurs letter, to determine impartially, as (on your Ladyships injunc- tions) I have endeavoured to do. But if I would give counsell to this whiffling capon-maker* (which is the name he aflPects in revenge for the others concealment), it is, that instead of triumphing with the rams-hornes, and defending the blasphemies, sacrilege, and ill manners of this corrupt age, he would withdraw his own, and write a second Apology for the froth which he hath so indiscretely spewed out ; least being judged a creature of the liquor he so much celebrates, he be thouglit unworthy a rejoynder, and after the English Character is made use of, his own supply the sweet office, ad sjnircos usus. 24"^ June 1659. a dunghill: a monster fitting to rove afier its sire, rather than find a Mecaenas in any serious family ; so unfit to bear the name of a character, that it may well be stiled the Leprosie of France cast upon England. But by this time (Ladies) I suppose you have enough of this unmaskt Gen- tleman 5 now to the work itself " And first he apologizeth for his rudeness by the commands of a person (once a devoto to the charmes of England) a person of quality (a Lord) ; but if his qualities answered his dignity, surely his Lordship hath repented him of his commands. " He declares he had licence only for minute things : his Honour thought great ones too much beyond the sphere of his activity and cognizance : but to particularize his aspersions, which 1 shall civilly name his complaints, " Comp. 1. His first is, (of the. stiffe whispering and forbidden countenances) at Dover. " Surely his last collation of the grape at Calais, or the high trott of Neptune, had contributed much to this mistake ; since as Comines his own country-man saith, I used to go to Calais (when in the hands of the English) without a passe, for (saith he) they are very courteous and honourable in their entertainments to strangers. And further, in their tryals with forrainers they allow them a Jiuy, de Medietate Lingua. Surely then they had not lost their native gallantry at this Mon- sieurs landing ; but for a certain the Monsieur brought a face from Madagascar, or a habit from America, not fit to be seen without a motion or amazement, as the Spaniards are usually respected in their country. But I see this poor gentleman is mighty lender, for he seems to take pet at every tree that grows not straight, and excepts at any person that comes but neer him, much more that doth but touch him : the very boyes give him an adventure much of Don Quixots, which makes him view all things through incliantment ; and I wonder 1 hear no news of his eccho, a Sjancho Pancho to flatter his folly into a romance. " Comp. * Gallus Castrallis. 147 TO THE READER. When I first chanced upon this severe piece, and had read it in the language it was sent me, I was so much concern'd with the honour of our Country, that it was my resolution to suppress the pubUcation of our shame, as conceiving it an act of great inhumanity ; but upon se- cond and more impartial thoughts, I have been tempted to make it speak English, and give it liberty, not to reproach, but to instruct our Nation, rememberilig what the wise-man hath said*, " Open rebuke is better than secret love." The truth is, I cannot say but the particulars are most of them very home, and which we may no way evade, without acknowledging, at least, that the gentleman (who ever he were) made notable use of his time, but best of all by setting upon effectual redresse of what is amiss. And though I doubt not but one might easily retort in as many instances upon defects as great (if not greater) of that Nation, (for he that finds fault had need be perfect,) yet were it then fittest to do it, and to revenge this charitable office, when we shall have first reformed ourselves. Farewell. " Coinp. '2. To see his confident Host sit down cheek by joule by him, belching and puffing to- bacco, and ihat our gentlemen do usually entertain them, and are pleased with their impertinencies. "This Monsieur was (I dare say) not banished France for his great head-piece; else he niij^ht have considered himself now in a free state, where no person is shackled by prerogative, but may be company (by way of divertisement) to the greatest piece of honour in Europe ; and if you can fit your lacquey upon what last your humor shall frame, why may not sometimes an impertinency please your fancy, as well as the character of England doth some of your ladies > For you must know, our people are not an asse-like galled nation, who are hound by their chains to come no neerer then an interview of Princes : but I confess my host was somewhat too bold to approach so nigh, lest he might have had imployment for his fingers and nails all the year after. " But I hope Monsieur you have paid your reckoning, and are now coming to London, as you say (the metropolis of all civility.) " Comp. 3. You write. That you had some honour thrown upon you, as dirt, squibs, roots, nay rams' horns, enteiing London. " Seriously, Sir, 1 wonder at the last lot, how they came to hit upon this honour for you; I must tell you, that it was a sad and lowering constellation or ludibriura of fortune cast upon your person, that in that great place of ^civility such ominous caresses should be offered, since your deserts had been better paid you in your own coimlry, and with your own coyn. As for the car- men, as you say, overthrew the hell-carts, I wonder. Sir, how your company escaped, since there was * Proveiljs, ciia[). \\\u. ver. 5. CHARACTER OF ENGLAND, &c. My Lord, You command me to give you minute account of what I observed, and how I passed that Httle time which I lately spent in England * ; a Country, whose character you so greatly desire to be inform'd of, in a conjuncture (as you rightly deduce) of so strange vicissitude and won- derful alterations ; and to whom, my Lord, should I more readily sub- mit ? first encouraged to make this excursion by your L'\ as who had formerly beheld and so much admir'd the splendor and magnificence of this Court and Kingdom in its greatest acme and lustre. But, my Lord, I cannot imagine that you should esteem me either of years or capacity to inform you, whose judgement is so mature, and correspon- dence so universal!, as that there is nothing which can escape your cognizance, not onely in that Island, but in all the world besides. But since you oblige me not to dip into the transactions of States, the effects of Providence, time, notices of a superiour orbe, and in which you can- not be instructed by so weak an instrument as your servant ; and demand onely the little remarkes of my hasty and desultory peregrination. was a story, that the Devil rid through our streets with some blades having none of the best faces. " Comp. 4. That our city is a wooden, northtrn, and inartificial congestion of houses. " This Monsieur, I perceive, is no curious architect, for finding fault with our wooden build- ings, which consider London, as a mercantile city, strong and beautiful, her manner of building agreeable to the jettyes, bay-windows, and returns in her streets ; every part so ingaged one with another, that though under several modes, yet like loving citizens they hold hand in hand faster then brick or stone can do, and Ijy their diversity of frontings do declare a freedonie of our sub- jects, that what they acquire by industry, may be bestowed at pleasure ; not obhged to build so for the will of the Princes : whereas the citizens of Paris are so forced to uniformity, that their structures * Referring to the Diary, June 27, 1650, it will be seen that Evelyn quitted Calais, " intending but a short stay in England," and returned to France on the 13th of the following month. 149 though I cannot pretend to improve your Lordships kiiowledg, yet 1 mav hope to give it diversion, and an essay of my ohedience. It must be avowed that England is a sweet and fertill Country, — Terra potens armis, atque ubere glebse ; that the fields, the hills, and the vallies are perpetually clad with a glo- rious and agreeable verdure ; that her provisions are plentifull, her staples important, and her interest very considerable, not omitting the most beautifuU ladies, I had almost said, of the world, but for a just respect due to the illustrious circles of our Court, where the beauties of conversation so far transcend the tinctures of lillies and roses. But these, my Lord, are not the memoires which you demand ; I will therefore hasten to my post. After a short passage from Calais, we came on shore at Dover, where the people of the town entertain'd us with such suspicious and forbidding countenances, whispering, and stifF postures, that I should never have believed so great a difference in the addresses of two nations could have been produced in so short a trajection, and in a port continually accus- tom'd to the faces of strangers, had not the contrary humors of our con- tiguous neighbours, the Spaniards, made it possible in so many pleasant instances. But I was amazed, when we had taken post, and scarce out of the village, at the acclamations of the boys, running after and affrighting our horses, hooting, and crying out, ' French dogs, French dogs, a Mounser, Mounser!' by a particular expression of welcome, structures seem to be only one continued magnificent wall loop-hol'd ; whereas variety is more pleasant, if it be not so fantastick as to incommodate passage, height, or sight, as it is an undoubted maxim in the opticks, that it lengthens your entertainment to a rapture : whereas in the French walk the eye in an instant is glutted with an identity, so that having seen one city or street, the eye is not urged to take her revels in another, all being so like to a primitive pattern of one livery, it choaks delight ; as for magnificent buildings, or regalios, Monsieur forgets the Abbey of Westminster, the Royal Exchange, two such works of architecture, that for their kind and use iheet not with any parallel in France ; though, I confess, the absolute tyranny of your Kings by the blood and sweat of the inslaved peasantry, have erected palaces as it seemeth to me works of ini- pertinency and leisure ; but if you view further their precordia, you will find the work like satlin pinckt upon canvas, being so furnished, that you would think them the edifices of some former inhabitants frighted from them, and possessed by Nomades or Scythians, that never knew the use 150 which other people would Interpret derision; but in this triumph (though somewhat late e're we set out for Dover) we attain'd as far as Rochester the first night, where, how new a thing it appeared to me, to see my confident host set him down cheek by joul by me, belching and puffing tobacco in my face, you may easily imagine, till I afterwards found it to be the usuall stile of this Country, and that the gentlemen who lodge at their inns entertain themselves In tVielr company, and are much pleas'd at their impertinencles. Arriv'd at the metropolis of civility, London, we put our selves in coach with some persons of quality, who came to conduct us to our lodging : but neither was this passage with- out honour done to us; the kennel dirt, squibs, roots, and rams-hornes being favours which were frequently cast at us by the children and ap- prentises without reproofe ; civilities that in Paris a gentleman as seldom meets withall, as with the contests of carmen, who in this town domineer in the streets, o're-throw the hell-carts (for so they name the coaches), cursing and reviling at the nobles: you would imagine yourself amongst a legion of devils, and in the suburbs of hell. I have greatly wondred at the remlsness of the magistrate, and the temper of the gentlemen, and that the citizens, who subsist onely upon them, should permit so great a disorder, rather joyning in the affronts then at all chastizing the inhumanity. But these are the natural effects of parity, popular liber- tinism, and insulary manners. I find, as you told me, my Lord, London to be a town so nobly situ- ated, and upon such a river as Europe certainly shews not a more usefull of such civil utensilj : besides, our Kings hrive had larger theaters of Majesty then these ; for wheieas the French King is sedentary in Paris, our Kings have been like the sun, not confined to a jilace, but enriching all places with their justice and glory : and so our palaces are beauties scattered and equally distributed to all places of the nation : no King (for the extent of earth) having more residencies of Majesty than our English Potentates have had ; so that if this city (of London) be considered as a mercantile city, and place of trading, and the King's Court but as an issue of his favour to these merchants: ynu will find he hath grandeurs both noble and suiRcient. What a charm of Majesty is there of the houses of the nobility, fronting that christal and sweet nymph (the Thames r) Besides, the city illustrated with the like in many places ; together with the stately structures belonging to citizens, that, I am confident, cannot be paralleleii l)y the whole trade of France or Europe. '' But I am bound to follow you. Monsieur, up and down from tl.e tavern to the church, then 151 and agreeable; but with all this a city consisting of a wooden, northern, and inartificial congestion of houses ; some of the principal streets so narrow, as there is nothing more deformed and unlike than the pros- pect of it at a distance, and its asymmetric within the walls. Their fountains, which are the pride and grace of our streets, and plentifully supplyed in this city, are here Immur'd, to secure the waters from, I know not what, impurities : but, certainly, it do's greatly detract from the beauty of the Carfours, and intercepts the view. Amongst the pieces of modern architecture, I have never observ'd above two which were remarkable in this vast city ; the portico of the Church of St. Pauls, and the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, of which I remember to have heard your Lordship speak : but you would be amaz'd at the genius of this age, that should suffer this goodly and ve- nerable fabrlck to be built about, and converted into raskally ware- houses, and so sordidly obscur'd and defac'd, that an argument of greater avarice, malice, meanness, and deformity of mind, cannot possibly be expressed : nothing here of ornament, nothing of magnificence, no pub- lique and honourable works, such as render our Paris, and other cities of France, renowned and visited by all the world ; emulating even Italy her self for her palaces, uniform and conspicuous structures : but O I how loathsome a Golgotha is this Pauls ! I assure your Lordship, that England is the sole spot in all tlie world where, amongst Christians, their churches are made jakes and stables, markets and tippling-houses, and where there were more need of scorpions than thongs to drive out then to the shambks, and indeede it seems you visited things {V\ke our rusticks) witli a streight- ened heart and a wide mouth, for now you bark most monstrously against our religion and professors of it : but seriously, had you minded any thing of cliarity, you would not have given a character of us in our disteuipeis, taking the present advantage of our being sick of schisme and division : but I find you one of those l^ucian scoffers, that rather then not exercise your froth, the gods shall not escape your animosity. I cannot like that spirit in a Frenchman, which would be scorned in a Heathen, or like a Jew spit upon the Saviour of the world, because not their insom- niated Messias : but Monsieur, procul hinc, procul He, prophani. Yet I seriously assure you (dear Ladies) as touching their several worships, of these equivocal Christians, as he cals them, it is a newly forged blasphemy agiiinst the truth, and I question not but his god-father will one day con- gratulate his intelligence with a meritorious reward. " Well now into the tavern I must follow my Frenchman, who is my ignis fatuus, leads me in ho 152 the puhlicans and money-changers ; in sum, where these excellent uses are pretended to be the markes of piety and reformation. I had sometimes the curiosity to visit the several worships of these equivocal Christians and enthusiasts*. But I extremely wondred to find those whom they call Presbyterians, and that would imitate us of the religion in France and Geneva, to have their discipline so confused and different. In this remarke, my Lord, to be somewhat more parti- cular, vou will not be displeased ; because it was a thing you so much recommended to my especiall notice. Form, they observe none. They pray and read without method, and indeed, without reverence or devo- tion. I have beheld a whole congregation sit with their hats on, at the reading of the Psalms, and yet bare-headed when they sing them. In divers places they read not the Scriptures at all ; but up into the pulpit, where they make an insipid, tedious, and immethodical prayer, in phrases and a tone so affected and mysterious, that they give it the name of canting, a term by which they do usually express the giblierish of betiirars and vagabonds : after which, there follows the sermon (which, for the most part, they read out of a book) consisting (like their prayers) of speculative and abstracted notions and things, which, nor the people nor themselves well understand : but these they extend to an extraordinary length and Pharisaical repetitions ; and well they may, for their chaires are lined with prodigious velvet cushions, upon which they loll and talk, 'till almost they sleep ; I am sure, till their auditors do, ^_ no method or order ; but what sees he now ? Now a legion of adversities, as shops, smoak, coaches, sea-coal ; would not any wise man think this man mad, or tumbled lately out of some chaos ? But his chief regret is for the sea-coal, wliich he .'aith : " Cump. 5. That if there be any iiell it is in this vulcano on a foggy day. " You may not well (juestion a hell. Monsieur, since in this piece of impiety and unhandsome- ness, if you had your reward, you might easily perceive you are in the suburbs already. Melhinks this was as strange an adventure as the knight errants wind-mills, and I suppose as much crazed your body ; so that I wonder at your high valour, that dared adventure that eyelet-holed invaded body of yours, to such corroding fumes ; but perad\enture you are well sheathed with brimstone and * " It was now a rare thing to find a priest of the Church of England in a parish pulpit, most of which were filled with Independents and Phanatics." Diary, vol. I. p. 257, 1st edit. 153 The Minister uses no habit of distinction, or gravity, but steps up in rjnerpo ; and when he laies by his cloak (as I have observed some of them) he has the action rather of a thrasher than a divine. This thev call taking pains, and indeed it is so to those that hear them : but thus they have now encouraged every pert mechanick to Invade, affrcnt, and out-preach them ; and having uncancell'd all manner of decency, pros- tituted both their persons and function to usurpation, penury, and derision. You may well Imagine, by the manners of the people, and their prodigious opirnotis, that there is no Catechism nor Sacraments duely adminlstred*: the religion of England is preaching and sitting stil on Sundaies. How they baptise I know not, because the congregation is dismissed, and they agree in no form ; and for the other Sacraments, no man gives or receives alike ; and It is so seldome done in remem- brance of Christ, tliat in some parishes, 1 have heard, they can hardly remember when they received it. Generally, I have no where seen goodlier out-sides of churches ; what they are within I cannot so well say ; for their temples are as fast as was that of Janus after the first Punick-war, unless it be upon Sundaies, when they blow the brazen trumpets of sedition, not the silver ones of the tabernacle. I have dis- coursed with some concerning this sealing their churches in the week- dayes : they are ready to retort upon us in France, not considering that our churches are solitary, and in some places many leagues distant from the towns ; that we are under a persecution, and so necessitated to omit the publique Morning and Evening Sacrifice, which I remember and butter against this infection, and you might have known, or 1 wonder your Lord informed you not, that the sulphure of our combustibles is a very great enemy to any sacrifice made in favour of Venus, her oblations being burnt upon altars in our suburbs. " Curnp. 6. But now if you will hear a loud one, mark his words well ; I have, saith he, been in a spacious church, where I could not discern the minister for sraoak, " Ex ungue Leonem, one may judge of the rest of his narrative by this notorious untruth. Did ever any sober man happen upon such an incounter ? Surely this gentleman's opticks were much eclipsed, or some drunken vapours had overclowded his mind, or else he had framed in his smoaky cranium * " Mr. Owen, a sequestcr'd and learned Minister, preach'd in my parlour, and gave us the blessed Sacrament, now wholly out of use in the parish churches on which the Presbyterians and Fanatics had usurp'd." Diary, vol. 1. p. 234. X 154 to have heard severall of our divines deplore the defect of; as of many other decencies, which, here, they can have no pretence against : but such of their churches as I have frequented were dammed up with pues, every three or four of the inhabitants sitting in narrow pounds or pulpits by themselves ; for they are all turn'd preachers now. In short, there is nothing more unlike to our reformed churches in France, and I think, in all Europe beside ; the apprehension of Poperv, or fondness to their own imaginations, having carried them so far to the other extream, that they have now lost all moderation and decorum. And I have been herein, mv Lord, the more industrious to inform myself of each particular; because it seems yet to be the most publique religion of the State. Some of their own party I have heard deplore this confusion ; but certainly they themselves gave the first occasion to these monstrous liberties, bv a rigid and uncharitable disci- pline, primarily (it seems) introduced by the Scots, and so refined upon by these, as there are few or none that will submit to the tyranny ; but every one takes his own course, and has protection for it. Some well natur'd abused men I have met wlthall amongst them ; but if I mistake not, for the greater ingredient, ambitious, ignorant, overween- ing, sower and uncharitable, ne quid asperius, combining with the Interest of the times, and who, to render themselves powerfull, have in compliances with the spiritual pride of the mechanlcks and corporations, connlv'd at those many and prodigious schismes and heresies which are now spawn'd under them in such numbers as give terrour to the State. cranium such an imposture; and I wonder, Sir, you make not a recantation for s-uch a grosse insipid irregularity, since if our very boys read but your book, they would hoot at your nation indeed for your sweet- lye-coniposed wonder. " Comp. 7- There is a number of houses where they sell ale (a muddy beverage) where the gentlemen sil and spend much of their time in drinking it. " As for that wholesome, pleasant, restorative, noble drink, the blessed offspring of Ceres ; what impudence dares find fault, or cast a cloud over that gift of nature ? Since that if it could be conveyed, all the earth would court it ; witness the great esteem is had in all parts of this our English liquor ; so that one of your countrymen doctors sailh, that there is no licjuor more in- creaseth the radical moisture, and preserves the natural heat; these two being the pillars of our decaying bodies. Now for any one to speak against the props of life, deserves to die, as his own enemy, under an unlamented death. But [ am sure of this, that this tipple, and the grey goose- wing. \oo I omit to te)l vour Lordship that few take notice of the Lords Prayer ; it is esteemed a kind of weakness to use it, bat the Creed and the Decalogue are not once heard of in their congregations : this is milke for babes, and thev are all giants. They do frequently solemnize their late nationall deliverances, and some daies of Christian bloodshed with all possible severity ; but they think it gross idolatry to joyn with the whole Christian church of all professions under Heaven, in the anniver- saries of our B. Saviour's Incarnation, Passion, Resurrection, and the descent of the Holy Ghost, spirituall, eternall, and never to be forgotten mercies *. Would your Lordship believe that this madnesse should advance so far as to disturbe the French church there, which, you know, do's in all places observe those signal deliverances and blessings, both by preaching, prayer, sacraments, and exhortations apposite to the occasion ? What think you will be the issue of this goodly Reforma- tion ? I could tell you of the mysterious classis of the Tryers, their ridiculous, insidiary and presumptuous questions; their unheard of ani- mosities against their brethren of the Church of England, suffering themselves to be rather torn in sunder by the Sectaries, Demetrius and the Crafts-men, whilst they contend about trifles and meer shadows. Concerning the Independents, all I can learn is, they are a refined and apostate sort of Presbyters ; or, rather such as renounce all ordina- tion, as who having preached promiscuously to the people, and cun- ningly ensnared a select number of rich and ignorant proselytes, sepa- rate themselves into conventicles, which they name congregations. wing, had almost torn all the feathers from ilie back of France; aud certainly this Monsieur had some other reason then he produceth, to inveigh against this liquor; it may be it holds no fiiendly correspondency with Venus races, or else is not commodious (by reason of its fumes) for a nation half drunk already. " And now he appeals to his Lord (his confident), and as a preludium (knowing my Lord was no enemy to the French beauties) to the prosecuting on bis road of scandals. And now let all the world consider this imheaid of impudence against a sex, the whole hoast of heroes court with caresses due to their charms, creatures (rather a creation) framed by the indulgent hand of tlie Deity, as it were, cordials poured down from heaven in compassion to our infirmities : you, even you (great souls) his folly hath not blusht to asperse, with the like success ; pardon the dirty expres- * 1653. " Christmas day : no sermon any where, no church being permitted to be open, so observ'd it at home." Diary, vol. L p.'ZGS. 156 There is nothing does more resemble this sect than our Romish Missiona- ries sent out in partibus iivfidelium ; for they take all other Christians to he Heathens. These are those pretenders to the Spirit, into whose j)arty do's the vilest person living no sooner adscribe himself, but he is, ipso facto, dub'd a saint, hallow'd and dear to God. These are the confidents who can design the minute, the place, and the means of their conversion; a schism full of spiritual disdain, incharity, and high imposture, if any such there be on earth. But every alteration of State destroying the interest of the versatile contrivers, they are as ready to transmigrate into the next more thriving fraternity, as the souls of Pythagoras into beasts, and may then, perhaps, assume some other title. This is a sad, but serious truth, and no little menaces the common Christianity, unless timely prevented. But, S% 1 will no longer tire your patience w"* these monsters (the subject of every con- temptuous pamphlet) then with the madness of the Anabaptists, Quakers, Fift Monarchy-men, and a cento of unheard of heresies besides, which, at present, deform the once renowned Church of Eng- land, and approach so little to the preteiuled Reformation, which we in Frai\ce have been made to believe, that there is nothing more hea- veidy wide. But I have dwelt too long on this remarke ; I return to where I digressed ; for I was viewing the buildings, which are as deformed as the minds and confusion of the people ; for if a whole street be fired (an accident not unfrequent in this wooden city) the magistrate has either no power, or no care to make them build with any uniformity, ex|)ressi()n, as the breath of a dunghill doth the sun, which still shall shine as glorious as his infa- tuated mind shall be obscured with infamy- " Comp. 8. That our ladies suffer themselves to be treated in a tavern, and drink crowned cups. " This is an horrid impudence indeed: survey the whole universe, as tlieir beauties excel, so, thf-n these fair creatures in general, their lives ; none whose lives are modester without ignominy, and freer witliout scandals, then our English ladies. "This gentleman eomes over with our last desultory French visitation, who had received so much virility by the posting of our horses in the dayes of travel, that they (being in London) did that thirteenth labour to Hercules twelve, purging a stable of so much filth, that our suburbs shall sing an lo Pean to them hereafter: and truly those poor pieces of mortality bred an excellent French trade of it, enough to keep them till the like opportunity may so seasonably court them. And these are your Madanioseilles, who (Proteus like) changed their shape (to ingratiate their hire) into ladies, countesses, this beauty, and that beauty, tdl they had taken excise of your limbs, gave 157 which render it, thougli a large, yet a very ugly town, jiestred with hatknev-coaches and insolent carre-men, shops and taverns, noyse, and such a cloud of sea-coal, as if there he a resemblance of hell upon earth, it is in this vulcano in a foggy day : this pestilent smoak, which cor- rodes the very yron, and spoils all the moveables, leaving a soot on all things that it lights : and so fatally seizing on the lungs of the Inha- bitants, that the cough and the consumption spares no man*. I have been in a spacious church where I could not discern the minister for the smoak ; nor hear him for the people's barking. There is within this city, and In all the towns of England (which I have passed through) so prodigious a number of houses where they sell a certain drink called ale, that I think a good halfe of the inhabitants may he denominated ale-house-keepers : these are a meaner sort of cabarets ; but what Is most deplorable, where the gentlemen sit, and spend much of their time, drinking of a muddy kind of beverage, and tobacco, which has universally besotted the nation, and at which (I hear) they have con- sumed many noble estates. As for other taverns, London Is compos'd of them, where they drink Spanish wines, and other sophisticated liquors, to that fury and Intemperance as has often amaz'd me to con- sider it : but thus some mean fellow, the drawer, arrives to an estate, some of them having built fair houses, and purchased those gentlemen out of their possessions, who have ruined themselves by that base and dishonourable vice of Inebriety : and that nothing may be wanting to the height of luxury and impiety of this abomination, they have trans- gave as good as you brought, left you loose in the hilts. These Mons. are your ladies that drink Clowned healths; these are those beauties Ihil are so free; to such a nation indeed it would be too great impiety for civil ladies to neglect their noble souls, their proper persons, to court your defor- mities and diseases. " Cornp. 9. It is the afternoon business of English Gentlemen only to drink and be drunk. " Surely such as was your females company, such was your males ; surely you rak'd hell for these deboist unthrifty cadets, for otherwise I never knew this to be a custom amongst civil gen- tlemen. You say, after they have taken their repast with the ladies they vvitiidraw into another room ; certainly, Monsieur, this is a handsome separation, for the gentlemen to carrese one with another, having sometimes masculine interests in hand ; whereas you never separate your confused interests, * For a further illustration of this fact, see his ■' Fumifugium : or the Inconveniencie of the Aer and Smoak of London dissipated;" reprinted in the present volume. 158 lated the organs out of the churches to set them up in taverns, chanting their dithramhicks, and hestlall hacchanalias to the tune of those instru- ments, which were wont to assist them in the celebration of God's praises, and regulate the voices of the worst singers in the world, which are the English in their churches at present. I cannot but commend the Reformed in Holland, who still retain their organs in the churches, and make use of them at the Psalms, without any opinion of supersti- tion ; and I once remembered to have heard the famous Diodati * wish it might be introduced even at Geneva. A great errour undouhtedlv in those who sit at the helme, to permit this scandal ; to suffer so manv of these taverns and occasions of intemperance, such leeches and vipers ; to gratifie so sordid and base a sort of people with the spoile of honest and well-natur'd men. Your L. will not believe me, that the ladies of greatest quality suffer themselves to be treated in one of these taverns, where a curtesan in other cities would scarcely vouchsafe to be enter- tained ; but you will be more astonish't when I shall assure you, that they drink their crowned cups roundly, daunce after the fiddle, kiss freely, and tearm it an honourable treat. But all this my experience, particular address, and habitudes with the greatest of that nation has assur'd me, that it is not the pass-time onlv of the inferiour and mere- tricious sort ; since I find it a chief suppletory at all their entertain- ments, to drink excessively, and that in their own houses, before the ladies and the lacquaes. It is the afternoon's diversion ; whether for want of better to employ the time, or affection to the drink, I know- interests, knowing no distinction between male and female civilized interests, hut only by the niDre retired managements of nature ; and certainly you would seem io be so fond of ynur Mopsa's, as not (out of a complement) to give them time to disembogue. As for our di inking healths or pledges, if you knew but the way to our custom, you will find it sprang from a laudable necessity at first, and was in earnest a duty performed really (by) one friend for another. The Danes know it. But Monsieur, you do but fanatically trifle in all your discourse : as for our cadets that visit the gallows so frequently (as you say), I suppose yours in France are, or ought to be, so seriously imployed, as their proper merit ; since your robberies are meerly massacres ; such cowards are ye, that ye first shoot before ye dare bid stand ; they never taking purse before it is crimsond, reaking hot * Dr. John Diodati, the celebrated Italian Minister, and translator of the Holy Bible into that language, with whom Evelyn became personally acquainted when at Gcnt\a in I(«4G. See Memoirs, vol. I. pp. 224. 226.227. 159 not ; but I have found some persons of quality, whom one could not safely visit after dinner without resolving to undergo this drink-ordel, and endure the question*. It is esteem'd a piece of wit to make a man drunk, for which some swilling insipid client or congiarie is a frequent and constant adjutant. Your L. may hence well imagine how heavy, dull, and insignificant the conversation is ; loud, querulous, and imperti- nent. 1 shall relate a story that once happened in my presence at a gentlemans house in the countrey, where there was much company and feasting. I fortun'd to come at dinner-time, and after the cloth was taken away (as the maimer is) they fell to their laudable exercise ; hut I, unacquainted then with their custome, was led uj) into a withdrawing room, where I had the permission (with a noble person who introduced me) to sit and converse with the ladies who were thither retired ; the gentleman of the house leaving us, in the mean time, to entertain his friends below. But you may imagine how strangely 1 was astonish'd, to see within an hour after, one of the company that had dined there entering into the room all bloody and disorder'd, to fetch a sword which lay in one of the windowes, and three or four of his companions, whom the fumes of the wine had inspirited, pursuing and dragging him by the hair, till in this confusion one of their spurs engaged into a carpet, upon which stood a very fair looking-glass, and two noble pieces ot porselain, drew all to the ground, break the glass and the vasas in pieces; and all this on such an instant, that the gentleman and my self had much ado to rescue the affrighted ladies from suffering in the tumult; but at last we hot in bloud ; of such hdrrible actions none but base cruel-spirited bravoes could be guilty ; this one unmanly trick might enough satyr against all the grandeurs in France. As concerning our Gentry, I sliall conclude, they come short of your follies, as much as you come short of their native gallantry. " Comp. 10. The Ladies of England have designs at playing at cards. " Pray, Monsieur, what's the end of play but ingenious designs, products of jiure fancy, and ready managcty ? and if you would dishonour them for this, you may as well carp at their inge- nuity : 1 suppose your ladies will never prove guilty of shewing so much judgment, since for to be dextrous at play cannot possibly be the lot of French ladies, for they want two necessary virtues to it, silence and patience ; which at what a distance these stand with them, let all the world judge. " Comp. * In France they give a certain torture to malefactors, by pouring such a quantity of water into their mouths, which they call giving the Question, and I (by translation) term drink-urdell. 160 prevail'd, and brought them to tearms ; the quarrel concerning an health onely, which one of them would have shitted. I don't remem- ber, my Lord, ever to have known (or very rarely) a health dratik In France, no not the Kings ; and If we say, jl vosire santt, Monsieur, it neither expects pledge or ceremony. 'Tis here so the custorae to drink to every one at the table, that by the time a gentleman has done his duty to the whole company he is ready to fall asleep, whereas with us, we salute the whole table with a single glass onely. But, my Lord, was not this, imagine you, an admirable scene and very extraordinary } 1 con- fess, the lady of the house, being much out of countenance at what had hapned, profered to excuse this disorder, and I was as ready to receive it, till several encounters confirmed me that they were but too fre([uent, and that there was a sort of perfect debauches, who stile themselves Hectors, that in their mad and unheard of revels pierce their veins to quaff their own blood, which some of them have drank to that excess that they died of the Intemperance. These are a professed atheistical order of bravos, compos'd for the most part of cadets, who, spending beyond their pensions to supply their extravagancies, practise now and then the high- way, where they sometimes borrow that which they often repay at the gibbet; an ignominious trade, unheard of amongst our gal- lant nobless, however fortune reduce them. But 1 know not whether 1 might not here match these valiant heroes with an avow'd society of ladles, and some of them not the meanest for birth (I even blush to recount it of that fair sex), who boast of making all advantages at play, " Coinp. 11. That our Gentlemen and Ladies are defective in courtship and addresses. " I confess if he means our ladies want that impudence, which he cals assurance, when it is as incompatible with modesty as the devils are with glorious angels; or if you mean a forwardness to court the male, to jet and garb it in company, like the Queens quondam petit-dancer, which you call address, I confess we will not vje with you ; or if you mean by charming discourse, a bold unlimited chattering, taking into cognizance ceremonious dissembled imiiertinencies, both in affioiit to heaven and earth ; in these our wise ladies come short 1 confess ; but if you mean an address, where modesty keeps its decorum betwixt impudent gallantry and bashful rusticity, this, this is the address of our incomparable beauties, which outshine yours as the greater lights of the firmament do the lesser. As for our gallants the gentlemen of this nation, none 1 am sure are belter able to manage an honourable and serious entertainment with more cordial handsome mag- nificence of address than they, setting aside the mode of the high roj e of our Frenchified English apes. 161 and are become so dextrous at it, that seldome they make a sitting with- out design and booty : for ther6 is here, my Lord, no such thing as courtship after the decent mode of our circles ; for either being mingled in a room, the gentlemen separate from the conversation of the ladies, to drink, as I before related ; or else to whisper with one another, at some corner, or bay-window, abandoning the ladies to gossip by them- selves, which is a custome so strange to a gallant of our nation as no- thing appears more barbarous and unbecoming ; and this in effect must needs be the reason that those beautiful creatures can so little furnish, that they want assurance, address, and the charming discourse of our damoiseles, which are faculties so shining and agreeable in their sex with us in France : and, in truth, even the gentlemen themselves are greatly defective as to this particular, ill courtiers, unplyant, morose, and of vulgar address, generally not so polished, free, and serene, as is universally found even amongst the most inferiour of our nation. I am not ignorant that they impute it to a certain levity in us ; but it is a mistake in them, and that because they so hardly reform it without some ridiculous affectation, as is conspicuous in their several modes and dresses, which they vary ten times for our once, every one affecting something particular, as having no standard at Court which should give laws and do countenance to the fashion. The women are much affected with gaudry, there being nothing more frequent than to see an ancient ladie wear colours, a thing which neither young nor old of either sex do with us, save in the country and the camp ; but widows at no apes. But when you shall pretend no child legitimate but your ill-faced bastards, and call that gallantry which swims uppermost in a giddy cranium and foisted garb, a deformed jiosture against the wise- product- ef nature, a goatish coneupiscenee, a salacious appj-oach, ftt only for satyrs ; if, Monsieur, these be your addresses, the beasts of the earth, the scum of rudeness, the excrements of nature, may discipline you in such waves of leputed manners. " As fur our aping you, it is confesl a few loose yoiuig souls, giddy like your selves, are your disciples ; but we may thank our alliance with you by civil contracts, which by your locust-like swarnting hath infected us at such a height, that we shall hardly claw it off without bloud or smart. " Comp. 12. To see the bals so disposed by dancing-masters, and their boldness with the ladies. " Monsieur, we intend not bals to make a meal of them, but as a condiment intended (a la volleej as transient actions, only for a divertisement 5 yet want we not a decorum and a raagniti- Y 162 time. And yet reprove they us for these exorbitances; but I have often disputed the case : either we do ill, or well ; if ill, why then do they ape us ? if well, why do they reproach us ? The truth is, they have no mode- ration, and are neither so lucky nor frugal as our ladies are in these sumptuary expenses ; and whereof the magistrate takes so little cogni- sance, that it is not an easy matter to distinguish the ladie from the chamber-maid; servants being suffered in this brave countrey to go clad like their mistresses, a thing neither decent nor permitted in France, where they may wear neither lace norsilke. I may not forget to acquaint your Lordship, that though the ladies and the gentlemen are so shy of one another ; yet when once they grow acquainted, it passes into expressions and compellatlons extreamly new to our usages and the stile of our country. Do but imagine how it would become our ladies to call Mons. N. Jack N, What more frequent than this ? " Tom P. was here to day :" " I went yesterday to the Coins* with Will. R.; and Harry M. treated me at such a tavern." These are the particular idioms and gracefull confidences now in use ; introduced, I conceive at first, by some camerades one with another; but it is mean and rude, and such as our lacquaes would almost disdain in Paris, where I have often observed two chimney-sweepers accost one another in bettei'forms and civiller addresses. But to be confident and clvill is not a thing so easily understood, and seems a peculiar talent of our nation. However the ladies are not more obliging and familiar than the lords are difficult and inaccessible ; for though by reason of my birth and quality, my recommendations and addresses, I found some tolerable reception amongst them ; and yet I observ'd that they kept at such a cency, witness those grand masques in the Kings dayes, which were thought to excel all of this nature in Euioiie, as much as our playes do all your rhiming fools-babies ; but your curtail'd Intelligencer, which hath brought you provision no further then from some petty schools of chil- dren, neither well educated nor well practised. " But, Monsieur, I hope these answers may inform you into a recantation, or else I must leave you scurrilous, and condemne your pamphlet to accommodate for sundry uses and purposes instead of your Weekly Gazets, as ncw-lye printed and new-lye come forth." * A place neer Paris, like Hide-parke. 163 surly distance with the gentlemen, even of a family, that methought 1 never beheld a ruder conversation ; especially, when comparing their parts and educations, I found them generally so much inferiour, as if a lord were indeed other than a gentleman ; or a gentleman not a fit companion for a king. But this must needs be the result of an ill and haughty institution, and for that most of these great persons are in their minority, and the age wherein they should be furnished with the noblest impressions, taught only to converse with their servants, some syco- phants, and under the regiment of a pedant, which imprints that scorn- fulness and folly, and fits them with no better form when thev should produce themselves, and give testimony to others as well of their supe- riority in vertue as in birth and dignity. But this is, my Lord, a parti- cular which I have heard you often complain of, and which we do fre- quently take notice of at their coming abroad into our countrey ; where for want of address and fit persons to introduce them, they seldome return more refined than they came ; else they could not but have observed, that there is nothing which makes the distinction of Nobles in France but the title, and that his Majesty himself do's them the honours, which here they usurpe upon their equalls. But, my Lord, they are sufficiently punished for it in England ; where, to me, they appear so degenerate for want of this humility and free conversation, by which, and their other vices, they grow now so much despised, that the gentlemen need seek no revenge ; for though (as I told you) the gentlemen are most of them very intemperate, yet the proverb goes, " As drunk as a Lord." But, my Lord, as there is no rule so generall but it does admit of exceptions, so should I give my own experience as well as your Lordships the contradiction, to make the censure univer- sal! ; there being even amongst these some few, and in particular my Lord N. and N. &c. whom I esteem to be very noble and accomplished persons, as who have learned (by the good fortune of a better education) how to value the conversations of worthy men, and who, indeed, do suffi- ciently verifie all those attributes which are due to their qualities, and therefore whom this paragraph doth no waies concern. Nor should I be less severe and unjust, totally to exclude even some of the ladies from the advantages of this period, whose perfections and 164 vertues claim an equal right to all that I have here spoken, out of a due resentlment of their merits and excellencies. It was frequently, during the last winter, that I was carried to their balls, as where indeed I hoped to see what should appear the most of gallant and splendid amongst the ladies ; nor really did my expectations deceive me ; for there was a confluence of very great beauties, to which the glis- tring of their jewels (which upon these occasions they want not) could adde nothing save their weight ; the various habits being so particular, as if by some strange inchantment they had encountred and come out of severe nations ; but I was astonished to see, when they were ready to move, that a dancing-master had the boldness to take forth the greatest ladies, and they again the dancing-master, who performed the most part of the bail, whilst the gentlemen that were present were least con- cerned, and stood looking on, so as it appeared to me, more like the farce of a comedv at the Hostel de Hourgoyne *, than a ball of the Noblesse; and in truth their measures, when any of them were taken out, made me somewhat ashamed to lead a lady, who did me the honor, for fear, though my skill be very vulgar in that exercise, they should have taken me for a dancing-master, as who had haply imploy'd my vouth so ill, as to have some advantage of the rest in that faculty. This favour is particular to the dancing- masters in this country; and reason good, for they ride in their coaches, and have such ample salaries, as maintains both their prodigality and insolence, that were insupportable in France, where these trifling fellows do better know themselves, are worse payed, and less presumptuous. Nay, so remiss are the ladies of their respect in this instance, that they not only entertain all this, but permit themselves likewise to be invited, and often honour these imper- tinent fantasticks, by receiving the ball at their petty schools. . . -; When this ceremony was ended, some of the gallants fell to other recreations, and as far as 1 understood, were offering at that innocent, yet salt and pleasant diversion, which in France we call ralliarv ; but so far were they from maintaining it within the decencies and laws which both in that and our characters f we observe ; that in a little * The play-house at Paris, as once ours at Blackfryers. t A witty and a civil description of one anothers persons. 165 time, they fell so upon personal abusing one another, that there was much ado to preserve the peace, and, as 1 heard, it was the next day the product of a quarrel and a duell. I did frequently in the spring accompany my Lord N. into a field near the town, which they call Hyde-Parke ; the place not unpleasant, and which they use, as our Course ; but with nothing that order, equi- page, and splendor, being such an assembly of wretched jades and hackney-coaches, as next a regiment of carre-men there is nothing approaches the resemblance. This Parke was (it seemes) used by the late King and Nobility for the freshness of the air, and the goodly prospect : but it is that which now (besides all other excises) they pay for here in England, though it be free in all the world beside ; every coach and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission of the publicane who has pur- chased it, for which the entrance is guarded with porters and long staves. * The manner is, as the company returns, to alight at the Spring Garden, so called in order to the Parke, as our Thuilleries Is to the Course ; the inclosure not disagreeable, for the solemness of the grove, the warbling of the birds, and as It opens into the spacious walks at St. James's : but the company walk in it at such a rate, as you would think all the ladleswere so many Atalantases, contending with their wooers ; and, my Lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the HIppomenes, who could with very much ado keep pace with them : but as fast as they run, they stay there so long, as If they wanted not time to finish the race ; for it is usuall here to find some of the young company till midnight ; and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all advantages of gallantry, after they have been refreshed with the collation, which Is here seldome omitted, at a certain cabaret In the middle of this paradise, where the forbidden frultes are certain trifling tartes, neates-tongues, salacious meates, and bad Rhenish; for which the gallants pay sauce, as Indeed they do at all * " April 1 1, 1G53. I went to take the aire in Hide Park, where every coach was made to pay a shilling, and horse 6^. by the sordid fellow who had purchas'd it of the state as they were call'd." Memoirs, vol. 1. p. '264. 166 such houses throughout England ; for they thuik it a piece of frugality beneath them, to bargaine or accompt for what they eat in any place, however unreasonably impos'd upon : but thus those mean fellows are (as I told your Lordship) inrlched ; begger and insult over the gen- tlemen. I am assur'd that this particular host, has purchased, within a few ■years, 5000 livres* of annuall rent; and well he may, at the rates these prodlgalls pay; whereas in France, a gentleman esteems it no diminution to mannage even these expences with reason. But my Lord, it is now late, and time to quit this Garden, and to tell you, that I think there is not a more illustrious sight in the world, than to meet the divinities of our court marching up the long walk in the Thuille- ries, where the pace is so stayed and grave, the encounters so regular and decent ; and where those who feed their eyes with their beauties, and their ears with the charming: accents of their discourse and vovces, need not those refreshments of the other senses, finding them all to be so taken up with these. I was curious before my return, and when I had conquer'd some diffi- culties of the language and eustomes, to visite their judicatures ; where besides that few of their Gown-men are to be compared to those of the robe in our Palais \ for elocution, and the talent of well speaking ; so neither do they at all exceed them in the forms and colours of their pleading ; but (as before I spake of their ralllary) supply the defects of the cause, with flat, insiplde and grossely abusing one another; a thing so trifling and misbecoming the gravity of courts (where the lawyers take liberty to jeast mens estates away, and yet avow their avarice) that 1 have much admired at the temper of the Judges, and their remisse- ness in reforming it ; there was a young person, whom at my being there, was very much cried up for his abilities, and in whom I did not observe that usuall intemperance which I but now reproved ; and cer- tainly it springs either for want of those abilities which the munlclpall lawes of this nation (consisting most of them in eustomes like our Normandy,) whose ancient dialect their books yet retain, are so little * 500/. per annum of our moneys. f Where they plead as at Westminster. 167 apt to furnish ; or the defect of those advantages, which the more polished sciences aflford us, without which it is impossihie to be good orators, and to maintaine their discourses, without diversion to that vile impertinency. But what is infinitely agreable in this country, are the bowling- greens, and the races, which are really such pleasures abroad as we have nothing approaches them in France, and which I was extreamly delighted in ; but the verdure of the country, and delicious downes it is which renders them this prseheminence, and indeed, it is to be valued, and doth in my esteeme, very much commute for the lesse benignity of that glorious planet which ripens our vines in France. The horses and the doggs, their incomparable parkes of fallow deer, and lawes of chace, I extreamly approve of: but upon other occasions, all Englishmen ride so fast upon the road, that you would swear there were some enemie in the ariere ; and all the coaches in London seem to drive for midwives. But what did much more afflict me is their ceremony at the table, where every man is obliged to sit till all have done eating, however their appetites differ, and to see the formality of the voider, which our with- drawing roomes in France are made to prevent, and might so here, if they knew the use of them to be, that every man may rise when he has din'd without the least indecency, and leave the sewers to their office. I have now but a word to adde, and that is the tediousness of visits, which they make here so long that it is a very tyranny to sit to so little purpose : if the persons be of ladies that are strangers, it is to look upon each other, as if they had never seen any of their own kinde before ; and here indeed the virtue of their sex is eminent ; for they are as silent and fixt as statues; or if they do talk, it is with censure, and sufficient confidence ; so difficult it is to entertain with a grace, or to observe a mediocrity. In summe, my Lord, I found so many particulars worthy of reproof in all those remarks which 1 have been able to make ; that to render you a veritable account of England, as it is at present I must pronounce with the poet, — Difficile est satyram non scribere. FINIS. AN APOLOGY FOR THE ROYAL PARTY, WRITTEN IN A LETTER TO A PERSON OF THE LATE COUNCEL OF STATE. A LOVER OF PEACE AND OF HIS COUNTRY. WITH A TOUCH AT THE PRETENDED "PLEA FOR THE ARMY. ANNO DOM. MDCHX. QUARTO. AN APOLOGY FOR THE ROYAL PARTY*. WRITTEN IN A LETTER TO A PERSON OF THE LATE COUNCEL OF STATE. Sir, The many civilities which you are still pleased to continue to me, and my very great desire to answer them in the worthiest testimonies of my zeal for your service, must make my best apology for this manner of addresse ; if out of an extream affection for your noblest interest, I seem transported a little upon your first reflections, and am made to despise the consequence of entertaining you with such truths as are of the greatest danger to my self, but of no less import to your happiness, and which carry with them the most indelible characters of my friend- ship. For if, as the Apostle affirms, " For a good man some would even dare to die," why should my charity be prejudged, if, hoping to convert you from the errour of your way, I despair not of rendring you the person for whose preservation there will be nothing too dear for me to expose ? I might with reason beleeve that the first election of the party wherein you stood engaged, proceeded from inexperience and the mistake of your zeal; not to say from your compliances to the passions of others; because 1 both knew your education, and how obsequious you have alwayes shewed your self to those who had then the direction of you : but, when after the exair!ple of their conversion, upon discovery of the impostures which perverted them, and the signal indignation of God upon the several periods which your eyes have lately beheld, of the bloudiest tyranies, and most prodigious oppressors that ever any age of the world produced, I see you still persist in your course, and that you * " 7th Nov. 1659, was published mu bold Apology for the King in this time of danger, when it was capital to speake or write in favour of him. It was twice printed, so universally it tooke." Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. \. p, 30G. 172 have turned about with every revolution which has hapned : when I consider what contradictions you have swallowed, how deeply you have ingaged, how servilely you have flatter'd, and the base and mean sub- missions by which you have dishonour'd your self, and stained your noble family ; not to mention the least refinement of your religion or morality, (besides that you have still preserved a civility for me, who am readv to acknowledge it, and never merited other from you,) I say, when I seriously reflect upon all this, I cannot but suspect the integrity of your procedure, deplore the sadness of your condition, and resolve to attempt the discovery of it to you, by all the instances which an affection perfectly touch't with a zeal for your eternall interest can pro- duce. And who can tell but it may please Almighty God to affect you yet by a weak instrument, who have resisted so many powerfull indica- tions of his displeasure at your proceedings, by the event of things ? For, since you are apt to recriminate, and after you have boasted of the prosperity of your cause, and the thriving of your wickedness (an argument farr better becoming a Muhametan then a Christian) let us state the matter a little, and compare particulars together ; let us go back to the source, and search the very principles ; and then see if ever any cause had like success indeed, and whether it be a just reproach to your enemies, that the judgements of God have begun with them, whilst you know not yet where they may determine. First then, be pleased to look northwards upon your brethren the Scots, (who being instigated by that crafty Cardinal [Richlieu] to disturb the groth of the incomparable Church of England, and so con- sequently the tranquility of a nation, whose expedition at the Isle of Ree gave terrour to the French,) made reformation their pretence to o-ratifie their own avarice, introduce themselves and a more than Baby- lonish tyrany, imposing on the Church and State beyond all impudence or example. I say, look upon what they have gotten by deceiving their brethren, selling their King, betraying his son, and by all their perfidie ; but a slavery more then Egyptian, and an infamy as unpa- rallel'd, as their treason and ingratitude. Look neerer home on those whom they had ingaged amongst us here, and lell me if there be a person of them left that can shew me 173 his prize, unless it be that of his sacriledg, which he or his nephews must certainly vomite up again : what is become of this ignorant and furious zeal, this pretence of an universall perfection in the religious and the secular, after all that blood and treasure, rapine and injustice, which has been exhausted, and perpetrated by these sons of thunder ? Where is the King whom they swear to make so glorious, but meant it in his martyrdome ? Where is the classis, and the assembly, the Lay- elder; all that geare of Scottish discipline, and the fine new trinkets of , reformation ? Were not all these taken out of their hand, while now they were in the height of their j)ride and triumph ? And their dull Generall made to serve the execution of their Soveraign, and then to be turn'd off himself, as a property no more of use to their designes ? a\n and misery, he died on the '24th of that month, and was buried in the church of Great Hamden. " Isaac Dorislaus, or Dorislaw, was originally a school-master, and afterwards Doctor of Civil Law, at Leyden, whence coming into England, he w'as entertained by Fulk Lord Brook, and by him appointed to read an History Lecture in Cambridge ; but in his first lecture decrying mo- narchy, was, upon the complaint of Dr. John Cosin, Master of Peterhouse, silenced, and about that time marrying a woman near Maiden in Essex, lived there for some time. Afterwards he became Judge Advocate in the King's army, in one of his expeditions against the Scots, then Advo- cate in the army against the King under Robert Earl of Essex, afterwards under Sir Thomas Fair- fax ; andA[)ril 13, 1C48, was appointed one of the Judges of the Court of Admiralty, with Doctors Clerk and Exton. January 10th, 1G4S-9, he was chosen assistant in drawing up and managing the charge against King Charles L and selected by the Parliament as an Envoy to Holland to prose- cute their designs He arrived at the Hague in May 1649, King Charles H. being then there in exile, which bold act offending certain English royalists attending his Majesty, about twelve of them in disguise repaired to his lodging, and finding him at supper, stabbed him in several places, and cut his throat, whereupon one of them said, " 'I'litis dies one of the King's Judges." His body was conveyed to England, and buried in the Abbey Church at Westujinster, which is thus alluded to by Evelyn in his Memoirs (vol. L p. 285): "This night, June 14, 1649, w:is buried with great pomp Dorislaus, slaine at the Hague : the villain who managed the trial of his Majesty." In Sep- tember 1661, his remains were taken up, with the bodies of other Cromwellians, and buried in St. Margaret's church-yard adjoining. History of King-killing, Svo. 1*19. '* Anthony .\scham, member of the Long Pailiauient, and author of " The Confusions and Revo- lutions in Governments: wherein is examined how far a Man may lawfully conforme to the Powers and Commands of those who, with various Successes, hold Kingdoms divided by Civil or Foreign Wars." Svo. 1649. He was an active person against his Sovereign, was concerned in drawing up the King's trial, and, after his execution, was sent by Cromwell in 1650 Ambassador to the Court of Madrid, where he was assassinated at his lodgings by some English lo\al:sts. '* The Editor, after much research, cannot find any notice of this wretched character. though they escaped the hand of justice, yet vengeance would not suffer to live. What became of Rainshurrow "^ ? Ireton '" perished of the plague, and Hoyle'*^ hanged himself; Staplie'^ died mad, and Cromwell"'' in a fit of rageing ; and if there were any others worthy the taking notice of, I should give you a list of their names and of their destinies, but it was not known whence they came which succeeded them ; nor had they left any memory behind them, hut for their sigiiall wickednesses, as he that set on fire the Ephesian Temple to be recorded a villain to posterity. Whereas those noble souls whom your inhumanity (not your vertue) betrayed gave proof of their extraction, innocency, reli- gion, and constancy, under all their tryalls and tormentors ; and those that died by the sword fell in the bed of honour, and did worthilv for their countrey ; their loyalty and their religion will be renowned in the history of ages, and precious to their memory when your names will " Thomas Rainsborough, Colonel in Cromwell's army, and appointed by Fairfax to command the tro{)|)s before I'^ontefract Castle. He was shot in his own quarters, an inn in Doncaster, November 1 648, before the face of some of his soldiers, by a party of cavaliers from Pontefract, under a pretence of deliveiing him a letter from Cromwell. Whitelock's Memorials. " Henry Ireton was a student in the Middle Temple, but when the Rebellion broke out, he joined the Parliament, and signalized himself at the battle of Naseby. He was concerned with General Lambert in drawing up the remonstrance of the Army to the Parliament ; and having married a daughter of Oliver Cromwell, he soon rose to preferment, and became Commissary- general. He sat in judgment upon the King, whom he had previously betrayed, and in 1630 went as commander of the army in Ireland, where he died at the siege of Limerick 26th Novembei; in the following year. " Thomas Hoyie, a merchant and alderman of York, a member of the Long Parliament ; chosen Lord Mayor of York, first in 1632, and again in 1644 : " a bitter enemy against his Prince, for which Cromwell rewarded him with the place of Treasurer's Remembrancer in the E\chequer ; who on that day twelve months that the King lost his life, made a bonfire for joy he was beheaded; but on the same day twelve months after, miserably hanged himself." Traytors Perspective Glass, 4to. 1662, p. 13. " Anthony Stapely, a native of Sussex, Colonel and Governor of Chichester, one of the King's judges, and who also signed the warrant for his execution. He died previously to the Restoration. ■° " He was cut off by a miserable and tonnenting sickness, which caused him two days before his death to roar so loud, and make such doleful clamours, that his Council, being informed that many ])ersons as they passed by his chamber window took much notice of his crys, thought fit to have him removed from the place where he then lay to one more private, where with extremity of anguish, and terror of conscience, he finished his miserable life, for he dyed mad and despairing, September 3, 165S." The Traytors Perspective Glass, by LT. 4to, 1662. 180 rot with your carcasses, and your remembrance be as dung upon the face of the earth. For there is already no place of Europe where your infamy is not spread, whilst your persecuted brethren rejoyce in their suffering's, can abound, and can want, blush not at their actions, nor are ashamed at their odd addresses, because they have suffered for that which their faith and their birth, their lawes and their liberties have celebrated with the most glorious inscriptions, and everlasting elogies. And if fresher instances of all these ])articulars be required, cast out your eye a little upon the Armies pretended Plea*, which came lately a birding to beat the way befoi'e tliem, charm the ears of the vulgar, and captivate the people ; that after all its pseudo-politicks and irreligious principles, is at last constrained to acknowledg your open and prodigious violations, " Strange and (very) illegal actions, (as in termes it con- " fesses) of taking up armes, raising and forming armies against the " King, fighting against his person, imprisoning, impeaching, arraigning, " trying and executing him : banishing his children, abolishing Bishops, " Deans and Chapters ; taking auay Kingly Government, and the " House of Lords, breaking the crowns, selling the Jewells, plate, goods, " houses, and lands belonging unto the Kings of this nation, erecting " extraordinary High Courts of Justice, and therein impeaching, arraign- " ing, condemning, and executing many pretended notorious enemies to " the publique peace; when the lawes in being and the ordinary Courts " of Justice could not reach them : by strange and unktiown practises in " this nation, and not at all justifiable by any known lawes and statutes f," but by certain dlabolicall principles of late distilled into some persons of the army, and which he would in title to the whole, who (abating some of their commanders that have sucked the sweet of this doctrine) had them never so much as entred into their thoughts, nor could they * A quai to tract of thirty pages, intituled, " Tlie Army's Plea for their jiresent Practice ; ten- dered to the Consideration of all ingenuous anci impartial Men. Printed and ])ublished by special Command." KJ.oO: which, according to a manuscript memorandum on the title-page of the copy preserved in the British Museum, was published on the 24th of October, three days before the date of the present answer. — A copy of this pamphlet is likewise in the Library of the London Institution. \ The Army's Plea, p. 5. 181 be so depraved, thouer sal- samentarios nempe, inquinari Civitatern, infici terrain, Jlumina, aerem ^ ignem, &f si quod aliud est elementum. Then for the butcher ; that the lex carnaria of the Romans forbad them to kill, or have their slaughter-houses within the walls ; that they had a certain station as- sign'd them without ; ne si passim vivant, totatn urhem reddant pesti- lentem. So, as were the people to choose, malunt (says he) habere vicinos decern lenones, quam unum lanionem ; they would rather dwell neer ten bawds, then one butcher. But this is insulsiis salsa- mtntarius, a quibble of the fishmongers. I could yet wish that our nasty prisons and common goales might bear them company ; since I affirm they might all be remov'd to some distant places neer the river, the situation whereof does so invite, and rarely contribute to the effect- ing of it. But if the avarice of the men of this age, be so far deplor- able, that we may not hope for so absolute a cure of all that is offen- sive ; at least let such whose works are upon the margent of the Thames, and which are indeed the most intollerable, be banished fur- ther off, and not once dare to approach that silver channel (but at the distance prescrib'd) which glides by her stately palaces, and irrigates her welcome banks. * This is also the custom in Paris, as will be seen in the following extract from Planta's New Picture of Paris, lS'-22 : — " The slaughter-houses, which are considered the nuisance and disgrace of the English metropolid, are placed in the outskirts of Paris, and under the inspection of the police. The slaughter-house of Montmartre, at the end of Rue Rocheehouart, rivals n)any of the public buildings in its external appearance. It is no less than 1,074 feet in length, and 384 in depth, and is watered by sluices from the Ourccj. On entering it, the stranger perceives no dis- agreeable smell ; he witnesses no disgusting sight ; and often he would not suspect the purpose to which the building is devoted. The slaughter-house of Pepincourt, or Menilmontant, Rue des Amandiers, almost rivals that at Montmartre. The other slaughter-houses are. Abattoir de Gre- nelle, near the Barrifere de Sevres ; du Roule or de Mouceaux, faubourg du Roule ; and de Ville Tuif, or d'lvry, boulevard de I'HOpital," t lx^va(^ay'icx,. 238 What a new spirit would these easie remedies create among the inhabitants of London ? what another genius infuse in the face of things? and, there is none but observes, and feels in himself the change which a serene and clear day produces ; how heavy and lesse dispos'd to motion. Yea, even to good humour and friendly inclinations, we many times find ourselves when the Heavens are clowded, and discomposed ? when the south winds blow, and the humours are fluid, for what we are when the skle is fair, and the aer in good temper ? And there is reason, that we, who are compos'd of the elements, sliould participate of their qualities : for as the humours have their sourse from the elements ; so have our passions from the humors, and the soul which is united to this body of ours, cannot but be affected with its inclinations. The very dumb creatures themselves being sensible of the alteration of the Aer, though not by ratiocination, yet by many notorious symptomes. But I forbear to philosophise farther upon this subject, capable of very large and noble reflections ; having with my promis'd brevity, endea- voured to shew the inconveniencies and the remedies of what does so universally offend, and obscure the glory of this our renowned metro- polis ; and which, I hope, may produce some effects towards the re- forming of so publick a nuisance. At least, let the continual sejourn of our illustrious Charles, who is the very breath of our nostrils, in whose health all our happinesse consists, be precious in our eyes, and make our noble patriots, now assembled in Parliament, consult for the speedy removal of this universal grievance. It is certainly of far greater concernment (however light and aery it may appear to some) then the draynlng of a fen, or iieautifying an aqueduct, for which some have received such publick honours, statues, and Inscriptions; and will (if ever any thing did) deserve the like acknowledgments both of the present and future ages. You, there- fore, that have houses in the city, you that bring up your wives and families from their sweet habitations in the country ; that educate your children here ; that have offices at court ; that study the laws : in fine, all that are oi^okocttvoi, §• ad eundem fimium degentes, bear a part in this request of mine, which concerns the universal benefit ; and the 239 rather, for that having neither habitation, office, nor being in the city, I cannot be suspected to oblige any particular. The elegant ladies and nicer dames ; all that are in health, and would continue so ; that are in- firm or convalescent, and would be perfect ; that affect the glory of our court and city, health or beauty, are concerned in this petition ; and it will become our wise Senators, and we earnestly expect it, that they would consult as well the state of the natural, as the politick body of this great nation, so considerable a part whereof are inhabitants of this august city; since, without their mutual harmony and well-being there can nothing prosper, or arrive to its desired perfection. PART III. AN OFFER AT THE IMPROVEMENT AND MELIORATION OF THE AER OF LONDON, BY WAY OF PLANTATIONS, &C. There goes a pleasant tale of a certain S'' Politick, that in the last great plague projected, how by a vessel fraight with peel'd onions, which should passe along the Thames by the city, when the wind sate in a favourable quarter, to attract the pollution of the aer, and sail away with the infection to the sea : transportation of diseases we some- times read of amongst the magneticall, or rather magical cures ; but never before of this way of transfi'etatlon : but, however this excellent conceit has often afforded good mirth on the stage, and I now men- tion to prevent the application to what I here propound ; there is yet another expedient, which 1 have here to offer (were this of the poi- sonous and filthy smoak remov'd) by which the city and environs about it might be rendered one of the most pleasant and agreeable places in the world. In order to this I propose *, * If the reader should find himself disposed to smile when he sees the author gravely proposing to counteract the offensive smells of London by rows of trees, and borders of fragrant shrubs, and aromatic herbs ; he should remember that this scheme, visionary as it may appear, was the foible of a writer whose enthusiasm for planting has proved of singular service to this kingdom ; pro- ductive of noble plantations, ornamental to the country, and useful to the community. 240 That all low grounds circumjacent to the city, especially east and south-west, be cast and contriv'd into square plots, or fields of twenty, thirty, and forty akers, or more, separated from each other by fences of double palisads, or contr'spaliars, which should enclose a plantation of an hundred and fifty, or more, feet deep, about each field ; not much unlike to what His Majesty has already begun by the wall from old Spring Garden to St. James's in that park ; and is somewhat resembled in the new Spring Garden at Lambeth *. That these palisads be ele- gantly planted, diligently kept and supply'd, with such shrubs as yield the most fragrant and odoriferous flowers, and are aptest to tinge the Aer upon every gentle emission at a great distance : such as are (for in- stance amongst many others) the sweet-brier, all the periclymena's and woodbinds; the common white and yellow jessamine, both the syringa's or pipe trees ; the guelder rose, the musk, and all other roses ; genista hispanica : to these may be added the rubus odoratus, bayes, juniper, li'gnum-vitse, lavender : but above all, rosemary, the flowers whereof are credibly reported to give their scent above thirty leagues off at sea, upon the coasts of Spain : and at some distance towards the meadow side, vines ; yea, hops. Et arbuta passim, Et glaucas salices, casiamque crocumque rubentem, Et pinguem tiliam, & ferrugineos hyacinthos, Sec f. For there is a sweet smelling sally ij;, and the blossoms of the tilia * M. Monconys, in his " Voyage d' Angleterre," made in May 16G3, has the following interesting passage concerning these Gardens which he visited. After having seen \\'estininster Abbey, he continues — " Au sortir, nous filmes dans un Bet de I'autre cot^ de la Tamise voir deux Jardins, oil tout le monde se peut aller promener, & faire collation dans des cabaret qui y font : ou dans les cabinets du jardin. On les nomme Springer Gaerden, c'est a dire, Jardins du Printemps, dont celui qu'on nomme le Nouveau est plus beau de beaucoup que I'autre. J'y admiral la beauts des allies de gazons, et la politesse de celles qui sont sablees. II est divise en une grande quan- tity de quarrez de 20 ou 30 pas en quarr6, clos par des haves de groselliers, et tous ces quarr^s sont plantes aussi de framboisiers, de rosiers et d'autres arbrisseaux, comme aussi d'herbages, et de legumes, comme pois, feves, asperges, fraises, &c. Toutes les allees sont bord^es ou de jonquilles, ou de geroMes, ou de lis." P. 29. Par. 1695. 12mo. f Virgil. + Sallow or willow. 241 or lime-tree *, are incomparably fragrant ; in brief, whatsoever is odori- ferous and refreshing. That the spaces or area between these palisads and fences, be em- ploy'd in beds and bordures of pinks, carnations, clove, stock-gilly- flower, primroses, auriculas, violets, not forgetting the white, which are in flower twice a year, April and August : cowslips, lillies, narcissus, strawberries, whose very leaves as well as fruit emit a cardiaque, and most refreshing halitus : also parietaria lutea, musk, lemmon, and mas- tick, thyme, spike, cammomile, balm, mint, marjoram, pempernel, and serpillum, &c. which, upon the least pressure and cutting, breathe out and betray their ravishing odors. That the fields, and crofts within these closures, or invironing gar- dens, be some of them planted with wild thyme, and others reserved for plots of beans, pease (not cabbages, whose rotten and perishing stalks have a very noisom and unhealthy smell, and therefore by Hyp- pocrates utterly condemned near great cities) but such blossom-bearing brain as send forth their virtue at farthest distance, and are all of them marketable at London ; by which means, the aer and winds perpetually fann'd from so many circling and encompassing iiedges, fragrant shrubs, trees and flowers, (the amputation and prunings of Vihose superfluities may in winter, on some occasions of weather and winds, be burnt, to visit the city with a more benign smoak,) not onely all that did approach the region which is properly design'd to be flowery ; but even the whole City would be sensible of the sweet and ravishing varieties of the per- fumes, as well as of the most delightful and pleasant objects and places of recreation for the inhabitants ; yielding also a prospect of a noble and masculine majesty, by reason of the frequent plantations of trees, and nurseries for ornament, profit, and security. The remainder of the fields included yielding the same, and better shelter, and pasture for sheep and cattel then now ; that they lie bleak, expos'd and abandon'd to the winds, which perpetually invade them. That, to this end, the gardiners (which now cultivate the upper, more drie, and ungrateful soil,) be encouraged to begin plantations in such * It has been conjectured that probably the lime-trees in St. James's Park were planted in con- sequence of this suggestion. 2i 242 places onely : and the farther exorbitant encrease of tenements, poor and nasty cottages near the City, be prohibited, which disgrace and take off from the sweetness and amoenity of the environs of London, and are already become a great eye-sore in the grounds opposite to his Majesty's Palace of White-hall ; which being converted to this use, mioht vield a diversion inferior to none that could be imao-in'd for health, profit, and beauty, which are the three transcendencies that I'ender a place without all exception. And this is what (in short) I had to offer, for the improvement and melioration of the Aer about London, and with which I shall conclude this discourse. SCULPTURA: OR THE HISTORY AND ART OF CHALCOGRAPHY AND ENGRAVING IN COPPER. WITH AN AMPLE ENUMERATION OF THE MOST RENOWNED MASTERS, AND THEIR WORKS. V TO WHICH IS ANNEXED A NEW MANNER OF ENGRAVING, OR MEZZO TINTO, COMMUNICATED BY HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE RUPERT TO THE AUTHOR OF THIS TREATISE. ^2^*A,%c, 4 s\ Implevi eum Spiriiu Dei, Sapientia, et Intelligentia, el Scientia in omni Opere, Sfc. XXXI. EXOD. XXXV. LONDON: PRINTED BY J. C. FOR G. BEEDLE AND T. COLLINS, AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE, AND J. CROOK, IN ST. PAULS CHURCH-YAKD. 1G62. 245 TO THE HONOURABLE AND LEARNED GENTLEMAN, ROBERT BOYLE*, Esq. Sir, Having, upon your reiterated instances (^which are ever commands with me) prepared this treatise concerning the history of Chalcogra- phy, &c. I thought my self engag'd to signifie to the rest that may possibly receive satisfaction or benefit from it, to whom they are obliged for the publication of it. The truth is, as it respects the pains which I have taken, it bears not the least proportion with my ambition of serving you; but as you are pleased to judge it useful for the encou- ragement of the gentlemen of our nation, who sometimes please them- selves with these innocent diversions (collections worthy of them for divers respects) and, especially, that such as are addicted to the more noble Mathematical Sciences, may draw and engrave their schemes with delight and assurance, I have been induc'd to think it more worthy your patronage, and of my small adventure, who professe to have nothing so much in my desires, and which I more avow the pursuite of, then to employ the whole remainder of the life which God shall assigne me, and that I can redeem from its impertinencies, in con- tributing to that great and august designe, which your illustrious and happy genius do's prompt you to, of cultivating the sciences, and ad- vancing of useful knowledge, emancipated from the strong contentions and little fruit of the former ; envy, and imposture of the latter ages. Sir, this is not in the least to flatter you, nor can I have other aime in it, then that by your great example, I might excite such as (like you) have parts and faculties, to things that are glorious, and worthy of them. Your studies are so mature and universal, your travels so * " Jan. 16, 1661. I went to the Philosophic Club, where was examined the Torricellian expe- riment. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades, and had recommended to me ye publishing what I had written of Calcography." — Diary, vol. I, p. 316. " 10th June, 1662. I presented my History of Calcographie (dedicated to Mr. Boyle) to our Society." — Diary, vol. I. p. 336. 246 highly improv'd, and your experience so well establish'd, that, after I have celebrated the conversation which results from all these perfections, it is from you alone that I might describe the character of an accom- plish'd genius, great and vvorthv our emulation. But though your modesty do's not permit me to run through all those transcendencies; yet the world is sufficiently instructed by what you cannot conceal, that I say nothing of servile, and which will not abide the test ; so as I have been often heard to exult in the felicity of this conjuncture of ours, which (^since those prodigies of virtue, the illustrious Ticho, Ba- con, Gilbert, Harvey, Digby, Galileo, Peireske, Des Cartes, Gassendi, Bernier, his disciple now in Persia, and the late incomparable Jacomo Maria Favl, &c.) has produc'd us nothing which will support the comparison with you, when I shall pronounce you (and as Indeed your merits do challenge it) the Phoenix of this latter age. And now that I mention'd Signor Favi, I will not conceal with what extasie and joy I lately found his memory (which I have so much and so often heard mention'd abroad, by such as had the happiness to know him intimately) consecrated by the eloquent pen of Monsieur Sorbiere, in a discourse of his to Monsieur Vitre, concerning the utility of great travel and forreign voyages ; because it approaches so neer to the idea which I have propos'd, and may serve as an encouragement and example to the gentlemen of our nation, who for the most part wander, and spend their time abroad, in the pursuit of those vain and lower pleasures, fruitless, and altogether intollerable. But, Sir, I will crowd no more into this Epistle (alreadv too prolixe) «hich was only design'd to accompany this piece, and some other usefull and more liberal diversions of this nature, which I cannot yet produce. But every thing has its time ; and when I would redeem it to the best ad- vantage, it is by entertaining it with something that may best declare to all the world how greatly I account the honour of being esteem'd Sir, Your most humble and most obcdisnt Servant, Say es- Court, J. Evelyn. 5 jlpril, 1662. 247 AN ACCOUNT OF SIGNOR GIACOMO FA VI, BY MONSIEUR SORBIERE. GiACOMO Maria Favi, of the house of the Marescotti of Boulonia died above thirty-five years of age, neer fifteen years since, in the city of Paris. It is a history worthy of record, and that all the world should take notice of this incomparable person, as that great wit and polite philoso- pher Monsieur Sorbiere does describe him : For as much ('saves he) as it seems to be a very great reproch, that neither prince nor state have hitherto had the consideration or the courage to undertake what one particular person alone did resolve upon, for the universal benefit and good of the publick : for it was upon this designe that he engao-ed himself expressly, making the most exact observations, and collecting the crayons, prints, designes, models and faithful copies of whatsoever could be encountered through the whole circle of the arts and sciences the laws, and the customs practised, wherever he arrived. He had already acquired by study a thousand worthy and curious particulars ; he design'd excellently well, understood the niatheinaticks, had pene- trated into the most curious parts of medicine, and was yet so far from the least pedantry, that he would (when so dispos'd) play the gallant as handsomely as any man, and which indeed he was able to do, enjoy- ing a plentiful revenue of neer three thousand pounds sterling a year, which he ordered to be paid him by Bills of Exchange, wheresoever his curiosity should invite him. But otherwise, truly his equipage was very simple, and his train reduced to only one servant, which he was wont to take in every town where he made any stay. He had already visited Italy, Germany, Poland, Sweden, Denmarke, Holland and England, from whence he came into France, to go into Spain. Finally, he arrived at Paris In Anno 1645, with one Bourdonl, a Sculp- tor, dwelling neer the Thuyleries, where he no sooner appear'd, but he was immediately found out, and known by all the Virtuosi, and as soon 248 inform'd himself of all that were extraordhiary and conspicuous for all sorts of curiosities, whereof he carefully took notice ; but especially he made an intimate acquintance with one Monsieur Petit, a very rare and curious person, and indeed greatly resembling the genius of this noble Gentleman, as being one who for these fifty years past, discover'd a won- derful ardor for the sciences, and a diligence so indefatigable in the re- search of all estimable and worthy inventions, as that it is a thousand pities (and a thing not to be conceived indeed without infinite regret) that this age of ours could never yet approch him. So laudable and worthy of praise hi^s his expenses been upon divers machines and experiments, beyond the forces of a private person, that had he been supported (as at first he was by the French King, and the great Cardinal de llichheu, under whom he enjoyed divers honourable and handsome employments, he had perhaps, amongst all the Arts through which he run, found out some abridgements and perfection, new and altogether stupendious ; and as indeed he has already done to admiration so fv.v at least, as his discretion and his aflFairs would give him leave. But to return to our new Democritus, Signor Favi ; he had made provision of sundry huge volumes, which were no other then the de- signes of all sorts of instruments and machines that he had seen and perused ; besides a world more which he had sent away into Italy : For this curious person neglected nothing, but went on collecting with a most insuperable diligence all that the mechanics had invented for Agriculture, Architecture, and the fabric of all sorts of works, belonging to sports, and to cloathes, for use and for magnificence. There was nothing so small, and to appearance trifling, which he did not cast his eves upon, and which he had not some hand in, or improv'd even to the least minutiaj ; whether it were a device of some haspe, the latch of a door, a simple lock, the cover or patin of a cup, a dress, &c. even to a very tooth-picker* : so as he shewed no less then two hundred toyes for children to Jjlay withall ; fourty several wayes of plowing the ground, a world of forges, and mills for various uses. He visited all the * Let not the reader despise this condescention of so great a person, for incut sua gratia parcis. 249 excellent workemen and artisans, and took samples, and patterns of all their rare inventions, and something of their making. Then for receits and secrets, he possess'd an infinite number of all kinds the most rare and excellent ; some whereof he purchas'd at great prices, and others he procur'd by exchange. He learned the tongues wherever he came, with extraordinary felicity ; and sometimes would frequent the recreations and exercises of the places where he sojourned, which he used to performe with a facillity and address so gentile and natural, as if he had yet been but a very youth : For by this means he found, that he gained the easier and more free accesse into the best companies, so extreamely noble, diss- interested and asreable was his fashion and manner of conversation : and though in sundry encounters and courts of princes, he had been frequently regal'd with very considerable presents, yet would he never receive any from great persons ; as chains of gold, and niedailles, diamonds and jewels that were offered him, unless happly It were some title of honour and prerogative ; as the permission to bear an eagle or a fleur de lis in his coat of armes, or the like : and when he had thus exhausted a kinir- dom or a place of all that was curious, and made acquaintance with all the persons of merit in a state, he travell'd presently into another; so as there was hardly a court to be found, where he had not finished his harvest in three or four months, till he arriv'd at Paris, where indeed he was infinitly suprlz'd, and busied among such an innumerable many of able and curious persons of all kinds. He had four lodgings in several parts of Paris, that so he might be neer a retreat in whatsoever quarter he should happen to be in pursulte of curiosities ; for he us'd to go much on foot, and alone, because he would not be troubl'd nor ob- serv'd by impertinent servants : but, in fine, purposing from hence to travell shortly for China by means of the Portugal, he took so much pains about describing and observing the magnificent preparations which were made for the marriage of the Queen of Poland, that he fell sick of a fever and dyed, to the universal regret and sorrow of all that had ever so much as heard of him. And no sooner did this sad accident come to the ears of the king, but he sent diligently to search out all his four lodgings, to see if, by any means, ought of his collection could be 2 K 250 retriev'd ; but they were all immediately dispers'd, and It was never found what became of them. The Count Marescotti, his kinsman, then at Paris, recover'd only that single volume wherein was contained the names, armes, and devises of the hands of all the Princes of Europe, whom he had had the honour to approach : but his intention was, as I have been credibly Inform'd by one that did often converse with him (though Monsieur Sorbiere is silent of it) after he had travelled over all the world (for his deslgne was no lesse ample) at returne into his native country, to compile, and pub- lish a compleat Cycle and History of Trades, with whatsoever else he should judge of use and benefit to mankind : but this had been a charity and a blessing too great for the world, because it do's not depart from its vices and Impertinences, and cherish such persons, and the virtues which should render it worthv of them. 251 A TABLE OF THE TITLES OF THE CHAPTERS, AND THEIR SEVERAL CONTENTS. CHAP. L OF SCULPTURE, HOW DERTV D, AND DISTINGUISHED, WITH THE STYLES AND INSTRUMENTS BELONGING TO IT. Argentum asperuin et pustulatum ib. Ebur Pingue ib. Dimidice eniinentice the same with Basso Re- lievo, and Mezzo Relievo ib. Scalptus, Scaptiis, Scalpturatus ib. Scalpo, Sculpo, deriv'd ib. Ccelum Topyos what, and whence deriv'd 260 THE CONTENTS ScuLPTURA and Ccelatura how they differ 258 Tomica, Desectores what ib. Plaistice, 253, The Mother of Sculpture 269 _ Paradigmatice, what 258 Gypsochi, Colaptice, Liihoxoi, Glyphice, what ib. Agogice, what ib. Anaglyphice, 258, its antiquity 269 Diaglyphice, Encolaptice, what 259 Toreutice ■ 258 Encaustic Art, how it occasioned the inven- tion of Brass Prints ib. Proplastic Art, Protypus, Modulus, Diatretice, and Calices diatreti, what 259 Tori, )^o~i\os 260 Ulysses shield, Anccesa Vasa, what ib. Cavatores, what, Graphatores, whence our English Gravers, Sculpture defin'd 261 Instruments of Graving. Style what. Why sometimes made of bone. Scalprum. Cce- lum, Cceles, Cceltes. Allusions in Job 19 to all kinds of antient Writing and Graving 262 Graphium, y\vpayirj[/,tou, l,i^vXXr,g, 'E7ri[/,iviSov roi) K^vjog, o(rTig e*f ttjv 'L-rrapTr^v a(Piy,STo ApKTTia. rov TpOKOivvia-iov tov to, ^ AoifJioiinrla, (ruyypci^ciVTog, AtrjloXov tb tov Kbv- Txvpov, Kcci ^l'd to * Petronii Arb. Satyricon. Cap. 88. 2/5 the encouragement of arts, and promotion of science, how illustrious and magnificent would that age be; how glorious and infinitely happy ? We complain of the times present, 'tis we that make them bad ; we admire the former, 'tis the effect of our ignorance only ; and which is yet more criminal, in that we have had their examples to instruct, and have made them to reproch us. Pardon this indignation of ours, O ye that love vertue and cultivate the sciences ! To returne to our institution again : Sculpture and Chalcography seem to have been of much antienter date in China then with us ; where all their writings and printed records were engraven either on copper plates or cut in tablets of wood, of which some we possesse, and have seen more, representing (in ill pictures) landskips, stories, and the like. Josephus Scaliger affirmes that our first letters in Eurone were thus cut upon wood, before they invented the typos ceneos ; instancing in a certain Horologium B. Marice, * which he sayes he had seen printed upon parchment a great while since : but Semedo would make the world believe that the foremention'd Chinezes have been possess'd of this invention about sixteen hundred years, some others affirme S/OO. However, that they were really masters of it long before us, is universally agreed upon ; and is yet in such esteem amongst them, that the very artizan who compounds the ink for the presse, is not accounted amongst the mechanic professors ; but is dig- nify'd with a liberal salary, and particular priviledges. They also engrave upon stone, and imprint with it ; but with this difference in the working-off, that the paper being black the Sculpture remains white. More admirable is that which they attest was found in Mexico and other places of the new world, where they hieroglyphiz'd both their thoughts, histories, and inventions to posterity, not much unlike to the Egyptians, though in lesse durable and permanent matter f : the same likewise Jo. Laet affirmes of the Sculpture among the Acadise, and those of Nova Francia ; so natural (it seems) and useful was this art, even to the least civiliz'd amongst the Heathens. And there is indeed nothing at which *Hist. Chin. part. 1. cap. 7. t Several curious specimens are engraved in the " Voyage de Humboldt et Bonpland." Folio. Paris, ISIO. 276 we more admire, and deplore, then that this facile and obvious inven- tion ; and which would have transmitted to us so many rare and admir- able things, was never hit upon among the Greeks and inventive Romans, who engrav'd so many inscriptions both in brasse and marble ; impressed and publish'd so many thousands of medails and coynes as are in the hands and collections of the virtuosi, and the bowels of the earth, wherever their conquests extended themselves, or eagles dis- play'd their wings. CHAP. IV. OF THE INVENTION AND PROGRESSE OF CHALCOGRAPHY IN PAR- TICULAR, TOGETHER WITH AN AMPLE ENUMERATION OF THE MOST RENOWNED MASTERS, AND THEIR WORKES. The Art of Engraving and working oflf from plates of copper, which we call Prints, was not yet appearing or born with us till about the year 1490, which was near upon 50 years after Typography had been found out by John Guittemberg; or whoever that lucky person were (for 'tis exceedingly controverted) that first produc'd the inven- tion. There is a collection of antient Offices adorned with several Sculptures (if so we inay terme those wretched Gravings in the infancy of this Art) where the Devil is but one great blot (as indeed he is the foulest of the Creation) and the rest of the figures monochroms as ridiculous and extravagant ; though still as the invention grew older, refining and improving upon it. One of the antientest Gravings which we have seen, to wliich any mark is oppos'd, hath M. 3. and M. C. in one of the corners of the plates ; and it was long that they used the initial letters of their names only, and sometimes but one, as in those of Lucas. Albert Durer did frequently add the year of the Lord, and his own age from ten to fourteen, &c. performing such things as might shame most of the best masters, for the true and steady design, the incomparable proportion, and stroke of his graver. But Israel, Martin Schoen, and the Todesco (who is by some sirnamed the Master of the Candlestick, because of the foulnesse of his ink) were of the very first, as far as we can collect, who published any works of this kind under 277 their names, wrought off by the rolHng-presse, and whose slender attempts gave encouragement to those who have succeeded. George Vasari, who has been exceedingly curious in this enquiry, attributes the first invention of this art to one Maso Finiguerra, a Flor- entine, about anno 1460, which exceeds our former computation by thirty years ; but then we are to consider by what progresse and degrees, for it was first only in silver, to fill with a certain encaustic or black enamel, which it seems gave him the first hint how to improve it in plates of brass, which having engraved, he did onely fume, taking off the impression with a moyst paper and a rolling pin. This mean com- mencement was yet afterwards pursu'd by Baccio Baldini, a Goldsmith, his country-man, whose works coming to the sight of Andrea Mantegna in Rome, invited that great painter to give him some designes of his own for his encouragement ; and from thence it travell'd Into Flanders to one Martine of Antwerp, whose works (as we observ'd} were usually countersign'd with M. the first whereof were the Five wise and Jive foolish l^irgins, and a Crucijia:, which was so well cut that Gerardo, a Florentine Painter, would needs copy it. After this he published his Four Fvangelists ; our Saviour and the Twelve Apostles ; a V^eronica, S. George, Christ before Pilate, and Assumption of the JB. Virgin, one of the rarest that ever he did ; besides that St. Anthonies Temp- tation, which was so well performed that Michael Angelo (exceed- ingly ravished with it) would needs wash it over with his own hands. The next that appeared of note was the formerly mention'd and renowned Albert Durer, who flourished about the year 1503, and who had performed wonders both in copper and wood, had he once fortun'd upon the least notion of that excellent manner which came afterwards to be in vogue, of giving things their natural distances and agreeable sweetnesse, the defect of which Sir H. Wotton does worthily perstringe both in him and some others*. But to proceed ; Albert being very young, set forth Our Lady ; some designes of Horses after the life ; the Prodigal ; S. Sebastian, in little ; a Nymph ravished by a Mon- ster ; a TVom,an on Horseback ; Diana chastising a Nymph tvho flies * Elements of Architecture. 4to. 1624. 2/8 to a Satyr for protection, in which he discovered his admirable talent and skill in expressing nudities ; a Countryman and IVoman playing on JBagpipes, with Poultry, §'c. about theoi ; T^enus or the Temptation of the Stove ; his two St. Christopher's, rare cuts. After that, he engraved several stamps in wood, proof whereof he gave in the decol- lation of St. Jo. Baptist with Herodias ; Pope Sixties ; St. Stephen ; Lazarus ; St. George ; a. Passion in great; the Last Supper; Christ's apprehension in the Garden ; Descent into Limbo, and Resurrection ; with eight more prints of this subject, which are held to be spurious. All these he published anno 1510. The year following he set forth the Life of Our Lady, in twenty sheets, rarely conducted; the Apocalyps in fifteen sheets, of which the Painters have made sufficient use ; Christ bemoaning our sins. Then applying himself to grave in copper again, he published his Blelancholia, three different Madonas, with thirty pieces besides concerning the Passion; and which being afterwards imitated by that rare Artist Marco Antonio (who had procur'd them at Venice) and published for originals (so exactly it seems they were per- form'd) did so insense Albert, that he made a journey to Venice ex- presly to complain of the injury to the Senate, and obtain'd at last, that M. Antonio should no more be permitted to set his mark or plagia, which was all he could procure of them. Another emulator of Albert's was Lucas van Leyden, whom at his returne into Germany, he found had well neer overtaken him for the sweetnesse of his burine, though something inferiour of design : such were a Chr'ist bearing the Ci'osse, and another of his Cinccifixion ; Sampson ; David on a Horse ; Mar- tyr dome of S. Peter; Said and David ; the Slaughter of Goliah ; the Famous Piper ; VirgiVs, and some other heads ; all which works did so inflame his antagonist Albert, that in a laudable revenge he publish'd his Amid Cavalier, or Dream, in which the brightnesse and lustre of the armour and horse is rarely conducted. Then in the year 1512 he set forth six other small stories of the Passion, which Lucas also imitated, though hardly reach'd. Then a S. George ; Solomons Idolatry ; the Baptisme of our Lord; Pyramus and Thisbie ; Aha- suerus and Hester, §-c. These again incited Albert to publish that Temperantia, whom he elevates above the clouds, S. Eustathius and 279 the Hart, a most incomparable cut ; his Death's Head in a Scutcheon, and several German Coates full of rare mantlings and invention. Also S. Hierom, a Chrnst and twelve Apostles in small : anno 1523, many heads, as that of Erasmus, Cardinal Albert, the Imperial Elector's, and his own, with divers other. Lucas again, in emulation of these, set forth his Joseph and four Evangelists ; the Angels appearing to Abraham ; Susanna ; David praying ; Mordecay triumphing ; Lot ; the Creation of Adam and Eve ; the Story of Cain and Abel, anno 1529. But what procur'd him immortal glory was his great Crucifix ; Ecce Homo, and Conver- sion of Saint Paid; in which he exceeded himself both for the work and ordonance ; the distances being better conducted then Albert's, and indeed so well observ'd, as gave light even to some of the best painters that succeeded him ; so much are they oblig'd to this art, and to this rare workman. He graved also several Madonas, our blessed Saviour and Apostles ; together with divers Saints, Armes and Mant- lings, a Mountebanc, and many more. But to returne now into Italy, from whence we first sallied. In the time of Raphael Urbine flourished the renouned Marco Antonio, who graved after those incomparible pieces of that famous painter to whom he was so dear, that the honour he has done him to posterity will ap- pear as long as that School of Raphael remains in the Pope's chamber at the Vatican, or any memorial of it lasts; though, to speak truth, even of this rare graver, the pieces which he hath published seem to be more estimable yet for the choice and imitation, then for any other perfection of the burine ; as forming most of his figures and touches of too equal force, and by no means well observing the distances, according to the rules of perspective, that tendernesse and, as the Italians terme it, Morbidezza in the hatchings, which is absolutely requisite to render a piece accomplish'd and without reproch. We have recited above what he coppied after Albert Durer ; but being at Rome, and ap])lying himself to Raphael, lie cut that rare Lucretia of his, which he perform'd so much to satisfaction, that divers excellent painters desir'd him to publish many of their works. This produc'd Urblne's Judgment of Paris, at which the city was so ravish'd, that 280 they decreed the golden apple to Antonio before the fair goddessc Then he set forth the Slaughter of the Innocents, Neptune, the Rape of Helena, all of them of Raphael's designing : also the Martyrdome of St. Felix in the boyling oyl, which purchas'd him so much fame and credit; but this excellent painter would alwayes from that time for- wards have one of his servants to attend only M. Antonio's rolling- press, and to work off" his plates, which then began to be marked with R. S. for Raphael Sancio, which was the name of Urbine, and with M. F. for Marco Fecit. Of these there is a Venus design'd by Raphael, Abraham and his Handmaid. After this he graved all those round designes painted in the Vatican by the same hand ; likewise the Ca- liope, Providentia, Justitia, the Muses, ylpollo, Parnassics, the Poets, ^neas and Anchises, the famous Galatea, all of them after Raphael : also the three Theological Vertues and four Moral. Pax, Christ and the Twelve ; several Madonas, St. Hierome, Tobit, St. John Baptist, and divers other saints ; besides many prints after the Cartoons of Ra- phael, which had been design'd to be wrought in tapestry and arras ; as the stories of St. Peter, Paul, Stephen, John, St. Catharine, and sun- dry heads to the life, &c. especially that incomparable one of Pietro Aretino the poet. Some things likewise being sent by Albert Durer out of Germany to Raphael, were, upon his recommendation, afterwards cut by M. Antonio, together with the Innocents, a Ccenacidum, and St. Ceci- lia's Martyrdom of Raphael's invention : then he publish'd his Tivelve Apostles in little, and divers Saints for the help of painters, as St. Hiero7ne ; the naked TVoman and the Lion, after Raphael ; Aurora, and from the antique the Three Graces. Marco dl Ravenna was one of Antonio's schoUars, who had also, to- gether with Augustlno Venetiano, the honour to dignlfie his gravlngs with Raphael's cypher ; though the latter often us'd A. V.I. his own initial letters ; of both their cutting are a Madona, with a Christus mortuus ; and in a large sheet the B. Virgin pr'aying, and a Nativity in great also : the Metamorphoses of Lycaon ; a Perfumer ; Alexan- der magnus and Roxana ; a Ccena Domini; the Annuntiation, all design'd by Raphael. Besides these were set forth two stories of the Marriage of Psyche; and indeed there was hardly any thing which 281 ever Raphael either painted or deslgn'd, but what were graven by one or both of these workmen ; besides divers other things after Julio Romano, viz. all that he painted in Raphael's Lodge, or gallery of the . Vatican ; some whereof are signed with M, R. and others with A. V. to shew they had been imitated by others, as was the Creation; the Sacrifice of Cain and Abel ; Noah ; Abraham ; the Passage over the Red Sea ; the Promulgation of the Law ; the Fall of Manna ; David and Goliah, which also M. Antonio had published before ; as likewise the Temple of Solomon ; his Judgment on the Harlots ; the Queen of Sheba's Visit, and many other histories collected out of the Old Testa- ment, all of which were published before Raphael's decease : for after that Augustlno wrought with Baccio Bandlnelll, a sculptor of Florence, who caus'd him to grave his Antonius and Cleojtatra, very rare things, with divers other designs ; as the Slaughter of the Innocents, divers Nudities, and Clad Figures ; not to omit those excellent and incom- parable drawings and paintings of Andrea del Sarto, after which he graved ; though in the Christo mortuo not altogether succeeding so well as had been wished. But to come again to Marco Antonio, because there is not a paper of his to be lost. After Raphael's death did Julio Romano publish some of his own designes in print. I say after his death, for before, thoue;;h he were an excellent painter, yet durst he never take the boldness upon him. Such were i\\e Duel of Horses -, a J^enus, which he had formerly painted ; the Penance of Mary Magdalen ; the Four Evangelists ; and some bassi relievi, with many things that Raphael had deslgn'd for the Corridor of the Vatican, and which were afterwards retouched by Tomaso Barlacchl. We will not contaminate this discourse with those twenty vile designes of Julio, cut by M. Antonio, and celebrated with the im- pure verses of Peter Aretino, by which he so dlshonour'd this excellent art, as well as himself, because it deserved a severer animadversion and chastisement then was inflicted upon him for it ; though to commute for this extravagancy, he publlsh'd the Martyrdom of St. Laurence, in which he also reformed those designes of Baccio Bandlnelll to the great reputation of the art of Chalcography. About the same time flourish'd Giouannl Battista Mantuano, disciple 2o 282 of Julio Romano, who published a Madona, his armed Mars and Venus; the Burning of Troy, an extraordinary piece (his prints are usually sign'd LB. M.); also his three sheets of Bat tails, cut by some other hand, a Physitian applyi7ig of Cupping-glasses to a IVoman ; Chi-ist's Journey into ^SLgypt ,- Bomulus and Rhemus ; the Stories of Pluto, Jupiter and Neptune ; tlie Miseries of Imprisonment ; Inter- vieiv of the Armies of Scipio and Hannibal ; St. John Baptist's Na- tivity, cut by Sebastiano de Regglo, all after Julio Romano. Giorgio Mantuano set forth the Facclata of the Pope's chappel ; M. Angelo's Judgement ; St. Peter s Martyrdome ; the Conversion of St. Paul, Sec. ; and some plates were sent abroad about the year 1530, eaten with arjua fortis after Parmesano ; for, as ab cere, deventum ad Tabulas ceratas in writing, the use of the Palimpsest^is, table books, jdumbce lamellcB and the like ; so happened it also in this art of Chal- cography ; and etching with corrosive waters began by some to be attempted with laudable success, as in this recital we shall frequently have occasion to remember : but whether those symeters and blades brought us from Damascus, and out of Syria, and wrought with these strong waters, might give any light to this expeditious and useful in- vention, we are not yet inform'd ; and the effect was sufficiently ob- vious after that of the burlne had been well considered. Ugo da Carpi did things in stamp which appear'd as tender as any drawings, and in a new vvay of chiaro-scuro, or mezzo-tinto, by the help of two plates, exactly conter-calked, one serving for the shadow, the other for the helghtnlng ; and of this he publlsh'd a Sybilla after Ra- phael, which succeeded so rarely well, that he Improv'd the curiosity to three colours ; as his j^neas and Anchises, Descent from the Cross, story of Si/mon Magus, a David after the same Urbin, and a Venus, do testifie. This occasioned many others to imitate him, as in particular, Baldassare Peruzzi, who graved the Hercides, Parnassus, and the Muses ; and Francisco Parmegiano, who having set out Diogenes in this guise, a very rare print. Instructed Antonio di Trento In the art, who published his Peter and Paid In chiaro-obscuro, the Tyburline Sybill, and a Madona; but none was there who exceeded those of Bee- 283.' cafuml, especially his two Apostles in wood, and the Alchemist in aqua fortis. - Fran. Parmegiano (whom we already mentioned) may he esteemed for one of the first that hrought the use of aqua-fortis into reputation ; so tender and graceful! were some of his etchings, as appears in that rare Descent of the Cross, Nativity, and several other pieces. Baptista Vicentino and Del Moro set forth many curious landskips. Girolamo Cocu, the Liberal Sciences, &c. Giacomo del Cavaglio cut many things after Rosso Fiorentino, as the Metamorphosis of Saturn into a Horse ; the Rape of Proserpine ; Antoninus and the Swan ; some of the Herculean Labours ; a hook of the Gods and their Tr'ansJ'ormations, whereof part are after Perino del Vaga ; also the Rape of the Sabines, an incomparahle print, had it been perfect ; but the city of Rome happening at that time to be in some disorder, the plates were lost. He graved likewise for Parmegiano the Espousals of our Lady, and a rare Nativity after Titian ; not to conceal his admirable talent in cutting of onixes, christals, and other estimable stones. Eneas Vico de Parma engraved the Rape of Helena after old Rosso ; a Vulcan with some Citpids about him ; Jjcda after Mich. Angelo ; the Annuntiation designed by Titian ; the story of Judith, the portrait of Cosimo di Medices, &c, ; also the Contest 'twixt Cupid and Apollo before the Gods; the Conversion of St. Paul in great, a very rare stamp ; the head of Jovanni di Medici, Charles the V. and some rare medails which are extant in the hands of the curious. He also published St. George ; several Habits of Countries ; the Stemmata, or trees of the Emperours, and divers other famous pedigrees. Lamberto Suave set forth 13 prints of Christ and his Disciples, far better graved than design'd ; also the Resurrection of Lazarus, and a St. Paul, which are skilfully and very laudably handled. Gio. Battista de Cavaglieri has cut the Descent from the Cross, a Madona, and many others. Antonio Lanferri and Tomaso Barlacchi graved divers things after Michael Angelo, and procured so many as were almost numberlesse : but what they publish'd of better use were divers grotescos, antiquities^ 284 and pieces serving to architecture, taken out of the old buildings and ruines yet extant ; which afterwards Sebastiano Serllo refining upon, compos'd the better part of that excellent book of his : and of this nature are the things published by Antonio Labbaco and Barozzo da Vignola. The famous Titian himself left some rare things graven with his own hand in wood, besides his Pharo in the great Cartoons, divers Land- skips, a Nativity, St. Hierom, St. Francis ; and in copper, a lanta- his, Adonis ; also in box, the Triumph of Faith, Patriarchs, Si/bills, Innocents, Apostles, Martyres, with our Saviour borne up in a Chariot hy the four Evangelists, Doctors, and Cotifessors ; also the J5. Virgin, a St. Anna, which he first painted in chiaro-oscuro on the sepulcher of Luigi Trivisano, in St. Giovanni e paola at Venice; Samson and Dallila ; some S hep hear ds and Animah ; three jBe/'/z/cci sitting, and encompassed with serpents like the Ldocoon ; not to mention what were published by Giulio Buonasoni, and those which were cut after Raphael, Giulo Romano, Parmegiano, and several others. Baptista Franco, a Venetian painter, has shewed both his dexterity in the graver and aqua-fortis also ; by the Nativity, Adoration of the the Magi, Predication of St. Peter, some Acts of the Apostles, His- tories of the Old Testament, after several excellent masters. Renato did divers rare things after Rosso, as in that of Francis the First his passing to the Tonple of Jujnter ; the Salutation of the P^ t^irgin ; and a Dance of Ten TFomen, with several others. Luca Penni published his two Satyrs whipping of Bacchus ; a Leda, Susanna, and some things after Primaticcio : also the Judge- ment of Paris; Isaac upon the Altar ; a Christ ; a Madona espousing of St. Catliarine; the 3Ietamorphosis of Calista, Concilium Deorum, Penelope, and some others in wood. Who does not with admiration and even extasie behold the works of Francesco Marcolini ? especially his Garden of Thoughts; Fate, Envy, Calamity, Fear, Praise, so incomparably cut in wood. Nor lesse worthy of commendation are the gravingsof Gabrielle Giolito, in the Orlando of Ariosto ; as also those eleven pieces oi Anatomic made for Andrea Vessalino, design'd by Calcare the Fleming, an excellent painter, and which were afterwards engraven in copper by Val verde in little. 285 Chrlstophero Coriolano graved the heads in Vasari's Lives of the Painters, being after the designes of the same Vasari ; they are in wood, and rarely done. Antonio Salamanca did put forth some very good things. Andrea Mantegna, that admirable painter, engraved (from the paint- ings now at Hampton Court) his Triumj>hs of Ccesar with great art j as likewise Baccanalius, and Sea-Gods ; a Christ takenfrom the Cross, his Burial, and Resurrection ; which being done both in brass and wood, were conducted with that skill, as for the softness and tendernesse of the lights, they appeared as if they had been painted in miniature. Nor may we here omit to celebrate, for the glory of the sex, Propertia de Rossi, a Florentine sculptress, who having cut stupendous things in marble, put forth also some rare things in Starnjn to be encountred amongst the collections of the curious. And about this age, or a little after, flourished Martin Rota, famous for his Judgment after Michael Angelo in a small volume, much to be pre- ferred to that which is commonly sold at Rome in so many sheets; likewise his St. ylnthony, and divers more. Jacomo Palma has, besides his ex- cellent book of drawing, set forth many rare pieces, very much esteemed. Andrea Mantuana graved both in wood and copper : of his were the Triumph of our Saviour, after Titian, and some things in chiaro-oscuro after Gio : di Bologna and Domenico Beccafumi, whom but now we mentioned; also the Roman Triumphs in imitation of Mantegna; a Christus mortuus after Alexand. Casollni, &c. Finally, towards the end of this century appeared Augustino and Annibal Carracci, most rare Painters and exquisite Engravers ; for, in- deed, when these two arts go together, then it is, and then only, that we may expect to see the utmost efforts and excellency of the Bolino. Amongst the famous pieces communicated to us by these masters, we may esteem the Monelli, .^neas of Barrochio's invention, and St. Hierom. After Tintoret, the large and famous Crucifix of three sheets in S. Rocco's school, which so ravished the painter; Mercury and the Graces ; Sapientia ; Pax; Abundantia chasing Mars aivay ; the Ecce ^omo of Corregglo ; St. Francis oiC' Son taken by the Knights of Malta; and, to conclude (for there is no end of his industry), the Prospect of the Pont Neif at Paris, than which there is not certainly extant a more lively representation of the busie genius of that mercurial nation ; nor a piece of greater variety, as to all encounters and accidents which one can imagine may happen amongst so numerous a people and concourse of mankind. Lastly (for they were likewise some of them gravers in copper and very rare chalcographers), we must not omit to make honourable men- tion here of those incomparable sculptors and cutters of medails, whether in gems or metals; such as were (besides those we touch'd in the former chapter) Vittor, Gambello, Giovanni dal Cavino the Padouan, and a son of his ; Benevento Cellini, Leone Aretino, Jacopo da Tresso, Fred. Bonzagna ; and, above all, Gio. Jacopo, who have almost exceeded, at least approach'd, the antients. To these may we add Giovanni da Castel Bolognese, Matteo dal Nasaro, Giovanni dal Cornivole, Domenica Milaneze, Pietro Maria de Pescia, Marmita, and Ludovico his son, Valeria Vincentino, who had been in England in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and left a sardonix which he cut [which Jerome Lennler shewed me, and, I think, is now in his Majesty's cabinet], representing the head of that famous heroine, inferiour to none of the antients. There was likewise Michelino, who, with the above-named Ludovico and Vincentino, had so accurately counterfeited the antient medails, that the most knowing antiquaries were often at a loss to distinguish them. Such were also Luigi Arlchini, Alessandro Caesarl, called the Greek so much celebrated for that stupendous medallon of jPa?^/ ^/je Thi7'd, and the head of Photius the yltheniaii, which he cut in an onix, comparable by the universal suffrages, to any of the antients. We could reckon up the works also of many of the rest, but it is not requisite, after we have given this taste, and would merit an express treatise. Likewise those of Antonio de Rossi, Cosimo da Trezzo, Phlllppo Negarolo, Gaspar and Girolamo Misuroni, Pietro Paulo Galcotto, Pastorino di Sienna, not omitting that famous Pharodoxus of Milan, Fran. Furnius, and Severus of Ravenna, &c. whose works were In gold, silver, copper, steel, achates, cornelians, onixes, christal, jasper, heliotrope, lazuli, 2 p 290 amethysts, &c. ; yea, and to shew how much some of those modern masters exceeded the antients, even the diamond, that hitherto insu- perable gemme, was. subdu'd by the famous Treccia of Milan, who, with stupendous successe cutting the King of Spain's armes in a noble table, was the first that ever engrav'd or made impression into that obdurate stone. It will become such to be well acquainted with these masters labours, and their manner, who aspire to be knowing, and to improve their judgment in medaills and intaglias, that necessary, orna- mental, and noble piece of learning; and not only to be well skill'd in their way of design, but to be able also to perform something in the art themselves : for such were those ingenious and illustrious spirits, Geo. Battista Sozini of Sienna, and Rosso de Giugni of Florence, gentlemen of note ; and such, with us, is our noble and worthy friend, Elias Ash- mole, Esq.* whose learning and other excellent qualities deserve a more glorious inscription. Finally, that excellent medalist Mounsieur Roti, now entertain'd by his Majesty for the Mint, and a rare workman as well for Intaglias In stone, as metal, is not to be here omitted. We shall speak in the next of those Germans and Flemmings who excell'd in the art of Chalcography, not that they have exceeded some of the French, but, because they were before them, and universally admired ; of these, the antesignani, were the fore-mention'd Albert Durer ; that prodigie of science, whose works we have already recount- ed upon occasion of Marco Antonio, and therefore shall here forbear the repetition ; as also those of Lucas ; whose works (consisting in all of about Ixx sheets, and which I have known sold for near an hundred pounds sterling, to onef that as well understood the value of money, as of that rare collection, he being one of the greatest merchants of books in Europe) are to be taken blind fold as they say; provided the impressions be black, well conserved, of equal force, and not counterfeit, as there are several of them which be discernable only by the curious and accurately skilfuU ; for such (amongst others of Durers) are the * Founder of the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, and author of the " Institution, Laws, and Ceremonies of the most Noble Order of the Garter," folio, 16/2; also " Antiquities of Berkshire," 3 vols. Svo. 1719. t Master Bleau, of Amsterdam. 291 Creation of Adam -, the Story of Lot ; Susanna ; The Ci'ucifix, which he cut in a small round plate of gold for theEmperours sword, and is fixed on the pummel, not before mention'd ; his armed Cavalier and Satyre ; and, indeed, almost all that ever he or Lucas graved and set forth. The works of Aldegrave, who came very near Albert, and flourish'd about the same age, are worthy the collection. His pieces are distin- guish'd by the cypher of his initial letters A in imitation of Durer, as likewise the author of the Septem opera misericordice, stories of the Book of the Kings, Artemisia, &c. whose gravings are counter- sign'd with G. P. I. B. publish'd the Four Evangelists, Adam, a Country Fellow, a Bishop, a Cardinal, Satyrs, 8fc. M. the Prodigal Son, the Evangelists, &c. some whereof are copies after Albert, and most of their works done in small plates. Hans Sibald Beme [BehamJ hath done wonders in those small figures, stories, and nakeds, which he publish'd ; it shall not be re- quisite to recite here the catalogue, because his mark H.S.B. (JKB) is fixed to most of his works, though now and then profan'd by the hands of others. Jerome Cock, a Flemming, cut a Moses, 32 sheets of the story of Psyche, design'd by one Michael a painter of the same country, very rarely conducted : also Dalila and Samson ; the Destruction of the Philistines ; the Creation of Adam, §-c. ; 2/ stories of the Old Testa- ment, nobly design'd by Martino, and as well graved : also the His- tory of Susanna ; another book of the Old and Netu Testament ; the Triumph of Patience, a rare cut; the Heart on the anvile, and divers Emblems full of curious figures; many sacred Triumphs; Fraud; Avarice; -a Bacchanalia ; and a Moses, after Bronzini, in emulation whereof Gio. Mantuano publish'd his Nativity, an incomparable print; after which Jerome graved for the inventor, twelve great sheets of Sorceresses, the Battails of Charles the V. ; and for Uries, a painter, the Perspectives which pass under his name, with 20 leaves of several buildings ; besides the St. Marline in a book full of devils. For Girol. Bos, the Alchemist, the Seven deadly Sins ; the last Judgment; a Carnival; and after Francis Floris, ten pieces of He7^cides' Labours ; the Duel of the Horatii and Curatii ; the Combate of the Pigmies 292 and Hei'cules ; Cain and Abel ; Abraham ; the Decision of Solomon between the two Harlots ; and, in summe, all the actions of human life. And now that we mentlon'd Francis Floris of Antwerp, the rare things which he publish'd in stamp, purchas'd him the name of the Flemmish Michael Angelo. Of the same country was that incomparable Cornelius Cort. We will commence with the Judgment of Michael Angelo which he cut In little : most of his things were after Frederic Zucchero, and some few of Raphael's, besides his landskips and other gravings, after Glrolamo Mutlano, which are very excellent : also John the Baptist, St. Hierom, St. Francis, Mary Magdalen, St. Eustachius, the Lapida- tion of S. Stephen design'd by Marco Venusto the Mantuan ; a Nati- vity after Thadeo Zucchero, St. Anne, 8fc. ; also a Nativity in great, after Polydore ; the Transfiguration ; the School at Athens ; the JBat- t ail of Elephants ; some gravings after Don Julio Clovio, and Titian, which, had they been accompanied with that tenderness and due obser- vation of the distances that accompllsh'd the succeeding gravers, had render'd him immortal, so sweet, even, and bold, was his work and design in all other considerations. We mention'd Titian ; for about 1570, Cor. Cort did use to work in that famous painter's house, and graved for him that Paradise he made for the Emperour ; St. Eazarus^s Martyrdom ; Calista and the Nymphs ; Prometheus ; Andromeda, the fore-nam'd Magdalen in the desart, and St. Hierom, all of them of Titian's invention. We come now to Justus, John, ^gldlus (Giles), and Ralph Sade- lers, who lived in the time of the Emperour Rodulphus, and publish'd their almost numberless labours ; we can therefore instance but in some of the most rare; such as were that book divided into three parts ; 1. Imago bo7iitatis ; 2. Bo7ii et mali scienticB ; 3. Bo7iorum et maloriim Consensio, <^es\gi\6. by Martin de Vos ; the Vestigia of Borne, ten- derly and finely touch'd, in fifty sheets : the Twelve Roman Emperours and Empresses after Titian, rarely graved by Giles ; a Madona, with our Saviour and St. Joseph, after Raphael ; Christus Flagellatus ; and the Head of Rodidphus II. with various capriccios and inventions about 293 it ; as also that of the Emperour Mathias, adorn'd with the chaplet of Medalls ; the calling of S. Andi^eiv, by John and Giles in brotherly emulation ; four books of Erernites admirably conducted by Raphael ; a Ccena Domini after Tintoret ; and another Flagellation of Arpino's ; di- vers Landskijis ; the Twelve Moneths ; the great Hall at Prague ; the Effigies of Martin de Vos, by iEgidius ; the Emperour and Empress in their robes of State ; an Adoration of the Magi after Zucchero ; Adonis and Venus after Titian ; a Crucifix after Jac. Palma ; a Resur- rection in great ; the rich Epulo ; St. Stephens Lapidation, the origi- nal whereof is at Friuli ; a *S^. Sebastian ; these by Giles. John engrav'd after M. de Vos, a scholar of Tintoret's already mentioned, the Crea- tion, and many Histories out of Genesis ; Ralph cut also the Life of Christ, and the Credo, by way of embleme. In summe (for their whole collection is not to be crouded into this catalogue) they have all of them published such incomparable gravings, that 'tis the greatest pitty in the world they had not flourished in the time of the great Raphael, and the good masters ; for they were not only accurate and punctual imitators, but gave to their works that softnesse, life, and colore (as artists terme it), which accomplishes all the rest ; especially John and Raphael, in what they graved after Mich, de Vos, Bassano, and others, whose rusti- cities they set forth : those of ^gidius in great, being a Descent from the Crosse, of Barroccio's invention, the other a Flagellation, design'd by Josepho Pin [q. Gioseppino ?] can never be sufficiently celebrated. After the Sadelers, appeared Herman Muller with a very bold bulino, and likewise Janus, who graved many things after Sprangers, worse exe- cuted (for the convulsive and even demoniac postures) then chosen. But the imitations of the graver by Simon Frisius the Hollander, who wrought with the aqua-fortis of the refiners, are altogether admirable and inimitable, the stroke and conduct consider'd, had the design (ex- cepting those of his birds, which are indeed without reproach,) contri- buted in any proportion to his dexterity. After him came the Swisse Matthew Miriam, who, had he perform'd his heightnings with more tendernesse, and come sweetly off with the extremities of his hatchings, had proved an excellent master ; his works are useful and Innumerable in loiuns, Landskips, Battails (those espe- 294 cially fought by the great Gustavus), &c. The soft vernish and sepa- rating aqua-fortis was the instrument he used. We have seen some few things cut in wood by the incomparable Hans Holbein, but they are rare, and exceedingly difficult to come by ; as his Licentiousnesse of the Friers and Nitns ; Erasmus ; \_Mori(B enco- mium ; the Trial and Crucijixion of Christ r\ the Daunce Macchahree, the Mortis imago, which he painted in great, in the church at Basil, and afterwards graved with no lesse art, and some few others. But there is extant a book of several figures done in the same material by one Jus- tus Ammannus Tigur, mdlxxviii, which are incomparably design'd and cut. In the epistle whereof, one Holtzhusen, a gentleman of Frankfort, is commended for his universal knowledge, and particularly his rare talent in this art, which it Is there said he shewed by wonder- ful contrivances at the celebration of Martin Luther's nuptials, and therefore worthy to be taken notice of. Hans Brossehaemer, besides several other things, hath cut in wood j1 triumph of the Emperour Maocimilian into Neuremberge. Virgilius Soils graved also in wood the Story of the Bible, and the Mechanic Arts in little ; but for imitating those vile postures of Aretine, had his eyes put out by the sentence of the Magistrate. Henrv Goltzius was a Hollander, and wanted only a good and judi- cious choice to have render'd him comparable to the profoundest mas- ters that ever handled the burin, for never did any exceed this rare workman : wltnesse those things of his after Gasparo Cello, the Gala- tea of Raphael Santio, and divers other pieces after Polydore da Carra- vaggio, a Hieroni ; Nativity ; and what he did of the Acts of the Apos- tles, with Ph. Galle, &c. ; but he was likewise an excellent painter. George Nouvolstell was of Mentz, in Germany, an admirable graver in wood. He publlsh'd that jEntas In little, and some historical parts of the Bible very well perform'd ; also divers of the Fathers after Tem- pesta, besides the tiei'usalemma Liberata of Bernardino Castelli in quarto, with many Cartels of Armes and Harnesses, and some pictures to a Breviarv, &c. Matthew Greuter publlsh'd a curious Book of Letters, the City of Rome In an ample forme, and a large Map of Italy ; the Old and 295 2^ew Testament ; the Church of Sti'asburge ; an Harmony 'twixt the Decalogue and the Lords Prayer, very ingeniously represented in pic- ture, with several other things laudably performed. But his son Frederic did infinitely exceed the father, as mav be seen by those many curious gravings which he has cut after Pietro Beretin Cortona, and the famous Andrea Sacchi, egregious painters. Saenredamus did publish many excellent cuts, especially those which he copied after Lucas van Leiden, of which we have formerly given a hint, for their sakes who are collectors of these curiosities, and may not happly be yet arriv'd to the judgment of being able to discerne them from the originals ; also some things after Goltzius. Cornelius Galle, in his St. Prisca's Baptism, Papenheitn's and other heads after Vandyke, has shew'd v^hat he was able to perform ; not to mention abundance of Fiontisjneces and other lesse considerable of his workes. But the Count Goudt, a knight of the Palatinate, has publish'd, though very few, yet some stupendous things, especially that of our J3. Saviour s flight into ^gypt by night ; the Story of Tobit, and about three or four more worthy of all admiration. Swanevelt's History of St. John, with divers Landskips. Pandern's Descent from the Cross; Matham's Christ and St. John ; a J^enus after Rotenhamer, Pope Innocent X. SfC. Bronchorst's rare etchings, especially those Huines and Anticalias of Home ; and superiour to all, the incomparable Landskips set forth by Paul Brill (some of which have been etched in aqua-fortis by Nieu- lant) do extreamly well merit to be placed in this our theater : for to be brief, because we can only recite the most remarkable and worthy the collection. Matham is famous for fruits ; Boetius, or Adam Bolswert, for his rusticks after Blomaert ; Londerselius has taken excessive pains in his landskips; and so has Van Velde in some few; but above all, Nicholas de Bruyn (after j9Lgidius Conlnxlogensls) is wonderful for Boscage, and the industry of his undertaking works of that large vo- lume which Theodore de Bry (resembling him in name) has been as famous for contracting ; though both of them of a Dutch heavy spirit, and perfectly suiting with the times and places : notwithstanding has 296 this latter perform'd some things in httle very hiudably. Nor with lesse ingratitude, amongst others, may we forget the N^ova reperta of Stra- danus by Theodore Galle ; who also published the ivhole Processe of making Silk of the fVorrn, and certain other works in Manufacture, all of them represented in Sculpture. Mallery, in his Peccati foines after Mich, de Vos, has perform'd wonders as to the subtilty and imperceptible ductus of the graver. Bolswert set forth the Sacra Eremus ^sceticarum, after Blomart and others ; but above all is he to be celebrated for those rare heads, and other stories grav'd after the paintings of Reubens and Van Dyke, which, for their sakes who are diligent collectors of the renouned persons of the late age, we shall not think amiss to mention. Such were the Dutchesse of Orleans, Arch-Duke Albert, Justus Lipsius, and others after Van Dyke ; Lessius and Jiellarinine, ^esultes, after Diepenbeck. After the same hands did Paulus Pontius grave the head of Sigismund, King of Poland, Count Pimentelo, &:c. ; after Reubens, Don Phil, de Gusman ; Don Alvarez Buzan, an incomparable cut ; Don Carolus de Colunna ; Rubens' picture bare-headed, for there is another in a hat ; Gasp, de Grayer ; Simon de Vos ; Maria de Medices ; Ccesar Alexand. Scaglia ; Const. Huygens, the learned father of our most in- genious friend Monsieur Zuylichen, so worthily celebrated for his dis- coveries of the annulus about Saturne, the pendule clocks, and universal mathematical genius ; Gasper Garartius, the lawyer ; Gasp. Hevestt/n ; Gustavus Adolphus King of Sweden ; Jacobus de Breuch ; the Prin- cesse of Brabonson ; that rare head of Frederic Henric Prince of Orange, and his own, with many moi-e after Van Dyke; besides the Jesuit Canisius, B. Urbin, painter, and others whom he grav'd after Diepenbeck. &c. ; and since we mention'd Sir Peter Paul Rubens, we may not pretermit those many excellent things of that great polititian, a learned and extraordinary person, set forth in so "many incomparable gravings by the admirable works of Swanenbourg,the above-named Pon- tius and Bolswert, Nesse, Vosterman, Vorst, and otlier rare masters in this art: such are (to instance in some only) his Battail of the Amazons, St. Roch, ourB. Saviour composed to Burial, the Fight of Lions, his great Crucifta:, Conversion of St. Paul, St. Peter in the Ship, a 297 Nativity, the Magi; the bloody Catastrophe of Cyrus; Solomons first Sentence ; St. Catharine' s Espousals ; the Tribute demanded of our Lord; Susanna and the Elders ; St. Laurence martyred ; the Pa- laces of Genoa, with divers otliers to be encountr'd amongst the mer- chants of prints, who frequently vend the copies for the originals to the lesse wary chapmen. Chr. Jegher has cut the Temptation of our Saviour in wood, very rarely perform'd after this great master. Besides the former mentlon'd, Lucas Vosterman and Vorst are never to be forgotten so long as the memory of his (Rubens's) scholar, Sir Ant. Van Dyke, is famous, for the heads of the Ma7'quesse Spinola, Char, de Mallery, Horatius Gentilescus, Jo. Count of Nassau, T^an Milder, P. Stevens, and Cor. Sachtleven, which he engrav'd after a new way of etching it first, and then pointing it (as it were) with the burlne afterwards, which renders those latter works of his as tender as miniature ; and such are the heads of Van Dyke himself, Jo. Lievens, Cor. Schut, Corn, de Vos, Deodato Delmont, Lucas Fanuden, Jo- docus de Momper, If'^encesl. Koeberger, painters ; Count de Ossono Duke of Bavaria, the ylrch-Dutchesse Clara, the last Duke of Or- leans, j^nton. Connebison, P. Stevens, and many others ; together with those other pieces of history, viz. the Sepidtur'e of Christ, and St. George, after Raphael ; Magdalene under the Cross ; our 13. Saviour in his Agony, after Carracche ; the Susanna, St. Laurence, and what but now we mentlon'd after Rubens, divers heads after Holbein, as that oi Erasmus, the D. of Noifolk,anA others of the Arundellan collection. Van Vorst, competitor with Vosterman, has likewise graven a number of heads after Van Dyke. I shall only name the learned Sr. Kenelme Digby in a philosophical habit ; our famous architect Liigo Jones, and those two incomparable figures of Charles the Martyr, and his roval consort the Q. Mother, now living : and to shew what honour was done this art by the best of painters, Sr. Ant. Van Dyke did himself etch divers things in aqua-fortls ; especially a Ma(/o?i«, Ecce Homo, Titian and his Mistress, Erasmus Roterodamus ; and touched several of the heads before mentioned to have been grav'd by Vosterman. After this great master's paintings, did Peter de Jode grave the effigies of Genovefa, widow to Car. Alex. Duke of Croi ; Paulus Hel- 2 Q 298 matins; the learned Puteanus; the Shhop of Gendt, the face whereof is thought to be etched by V. Dyke himself : he graved Jo. Snellinx, a painter; besides a book of designing very rare ; and the many other prints after his master Goltzius (whose disciple he was), which both Peter, and his son of the same name, have engraved for Monsieur Bon Enfant of Paris, &c. Collaert graved some things rarely in steel. Suyderhoef has engraven the heads of most of the learned Dutch, after several painters, with good success ; as those of Heinsius, Grotius, Barleus, &;c. ; not for- getting that stupendous Lady Anna Maria a Schureman, &c, Jo. Baur has design'd his Battails with a fine spirit, but without care in the etching. Vander Thulden published the whole History of Ulysses, being the work of the famous Primaticcio, at Fontain Bleau, etched also in aqua- fortis, and so designed, as few pretenders to this art did ever exceed him : and so, as we but lately mentioned, are the papers of the inimita- ble Suanebourge, which strike a ravishing effect in all that behold them, for the admirable tenderness and rare conduct of the hatches; especially those which he cut after the drawings of Abraham Blomaert and Rubens. But now that we mention Blomaert, whose works we have celebrated in general, because they smell something of a Dutch spirit, though otherwise well engraven, there is at Rome (if we mistake not) a son of his named Cornelius, who In that St. Francis after Guido Reni, and those other pieces after the design of those great masters. Monsieur Poussin, Pletro Cortona, &c. to be seen in the books set forth by the Jesuit Ferrarlus, his Hesperides, Flora, ^des Barberini, &c, hath given ample testimony how great his abilities are; for, certainly, he has in some of these stamps arrived to the utmost perfection of the Bo- lino, though some workmen will hardly allow him this elogie. But those things of the incomparable Natalis a Ligeois (and therefore reckoned here amongst the Germans), pass without the least contradic- tion for the utmost effort of that instrument. Such are that of St. Ca- tharines Espousatls after Bourdon, which seems to be a very piece of painting; the 2 wo Madonas in contest with Poilly ; the 2 /lesis ; and 299 the Chapter of the Carthusians, all after the life and his own design, a stupendous work : also the heads of Jacob Catz : one of the States of Holl, and painted by Dubordieu ; and some few things more, as the exactness and curiosity of what he undertakes requires, sufficient to discover the admirable perfection of this great artist : for we do not mention several frontispieces which he has likewise engraven, with equal industry. Ferdinand has, besides many others, graved after the same Bourdon, the story of Ulysses and A.ndromache . Uriesse and Verden are famous for their perspectives. Winegard his Roman Vestigia, dec. William Hondius, besides those things which adorn his Mapps, which are the largest planispheres, has very rarely engraven his own head after a painting of Vandyke : nor with less art has Vankessell done that of Charges the Fifth after Titian : Clovet and Car. Scribo- nius the Jesuits. Caukern has graven the story of that Pious Daughter, who gave suck to her imprison'd father ; a Fight of Boores ; with divers others after Rubens and Vandyke, &c. ; besides those which are extant in Mr. Ogilbye's Homer, Bible, my Lord of New Castles Cavalerizzo, Sfc. design'd by Deipenbec, whose rare talent, that Theatre or Temjjle of the Muses, published by that curiously learned and universal collector of prints, the Abbot of Villoin (of whom we shall have occasion to dis- course in the next chapter), does sufficiently illustrate. Lucas KiHanus has rarely graved the Murther of the Innocents; the Miracles of the Fish ; ^nnuntiation ; Circumcision ; and some plates in the Hortus Eystettensis, &c. Vischer, viz. Cornelius (for there is another who has published divers landsklps) hath most rarely etched a certain Dutch Kitchen, where there is an old man taking Tobacco, whilst his wife is frying of pan- cakes ; also a Fiddler accompanied with boyes and girles, painted by Ostade ; but above all, admirable is the Descent, or Christus Mortuus, after Tlntoret, both graved and etch'd, as indeed I should have said of the rest. Vovillemont has etched our Saviour chasing the sacrilegioxis Mer- 300 chants out of the Temple, after the same Tintoret ; which is very rare. Nolp, the Twelve 3Ioneths, especially the boystrous March. Lombart, many plates for Mr. Oglebyes Virgil ; as likewise that industrious interpreters picture after our famous Mr. Lillv, in which he has performed laudably : nor must I here forget Mr. Hertocks, who has grav'd the frontispiece for EIKXiN BAE. in fol. and [for my parallel of Architecture better then] that of this treatise, with many other. To these we njay ad^^the incomparable Reimbrandt, whose etchings and gravings are or d particular spirit ; especially the Old TJ^oman in thefurr; the Good Samaritane ; the jlngels apjiearing to the Shep- herds; divers Landskips and Heads to the life ; St. Hierom, of which there is one very rarely graver, with the burine ; but above all his ILcce Homo ; Descent from the Cross in large ; Philip and the Eunuch. &c. Winceslaus Hollar, a gentleman of Bohemia, comes in the next place, not that he is not before most of the rest for his choyce and great indus- try (for we rank them very promiscuously both as to time and pre-emi- nence) but to bring up the rear of the Germans with a deserving per- son, whose indefatigable works in aqua-fortis do infinitely recommend themselves by the excellent choyce which he hath made of the rare things furnish'd out of the Arundelian Collection ; and from most of the best hands and designs ; for such were those of Leonardo da Vinci, Fr. Parmensis, Titian, Jul. Romano, A. Mantegna, Corregio, Perino del Vago, A. Urbin, Seb. del Piombo, Palma, Alb. Durer, Hans Hol- bein, Vandike, Rubens, Breughel, Bassan, iElsheimer, Brower, Artois, and divers other masters of prime note, whose drawings and paintings he hath faithfully copied ; besides several books of Landskips, Toiunes, Solemnities, Histories, Heads, Beasts, Folds, Insects, J^essels, and other signal pieces, not omitting what he hath etched after De Clyne, Mr. Streter, and Dankert, for Sir Rob. Stapleton's Juvenal, Mr. Ross his Silius, Polyglotta Biblia, the Monasticon, first and second part, Mr. Dugdales Paules, and Survey of Warwickshire, [Mr. Ashmole's Garter] with other innumerable frontispieces, and things by him pub- lished and done after the life ; and to be (^eo nomine^ more valued and esteemed, then where there has been more curiosity about Chimceras and things which are not in nature ; so that of Mr. Hollars works we 301 may justly pronounce, there is not a more useful and instructive col- lection to be made. The learned Hevelius !)as shewed his admirable dexterity in this art, by the several Phases and other Ichonisms which ador-i his Seleno- graphy, and is therefore one of the noblest instances of the extraordi- nary use of this talent, for men of letters, and that would be accurate » in the Diagramms which they publish in their works. The no lesse knowing Anna Maria a Schurman is likewise skilled in this art, with innumerable others, even to a prodigy of her sex. For the rest, we shall only call over their names, after we have celebrated the extravagant fancies of both the Breughels ; as those of the Seven deadly Sins; Satyrical pieces against the JVuns and Friers; with divers Histories, Drolleries, Landskips, fantastic Grylles and Grotesques of these too rare Rhyparographs ; not farther to tire our reader with the particulars and several works of Ostade, Cornelius Clock, Queborne, Gustos, [Dominicus Custos, and Wolfangus Kilian, from the paintings of Wickgram and others, the Effigies of the Duke of Bavaria, with the rest in his Atrium Heroicum, for all the famous persons of that century, both of Europe and Asia,] Le Delfe, (who has put forth the portraits of many learned persons) Dors, Falck, Gerard, Bens, Moes- tuer, Grebber, Geldorp, Hopfer, Gerard, Bens, Chein, Ach. d' E^^mont, de Vinghe, Heins, Dltmer, Cronis, Lindoven, Mirevel, Kager, Coccien, Maubease, Venius, Firens, Pierets, Quelinus, Stachade, Sehut, Soutman Vanulch, Broon, Valdet, Loggan, whom we expresly omit, because we have introduc'd a sufficient number, and that this chapter is already too prolix. Only we would not pass Min Here Biscop, a learned advocate now of Holland, who for his story of Joseph and Benjamin, where the cup is found in his sack, and those other few cuts among the hands of the curious, must not be passed over in oblivion ; as we had like to have done some of the old and best masters, by having hitherto omitted. Druefken his King of the Boors in Hungaria, eaten alive by the Rebels whom he seduced ; with some other cuts in wood, known by his mark, which was commonly a cluster of grapes. 302 Pieter Van Aelst, his Cavalcade of the Grand Signior to Sancta Sophia, and several Turkish Habits, on which subject also Swart Jan Van Groennighen has set forth many remarkable things, Caravanns, Pilgrimages to Mecca, &c. Lucas Cranach, Tiltings, Huntings, German Habits, and the por- traits of all the Dukes of Saxony to his time. Joos Ammanus, of whom we already mention'd, divers of the mecha- nic arts ; not omitting all those excellent wood-cuts of Hans Schinflyn and Adam Altorf, especially this last, known by the two capital AA of the Gothick forme, including one within the other, as the D is in that of Albert Durers. Hubert Goltzius has cut in wood a book of the Roman Empe- rours in two colours. This name recals to mind an omission of ours in some of those excellent Chalcographers already recorded, and in particular the incomparable imitations of Henry Goltzius after Lucas Van Leyden in the Passion, the Christus mortiais or Pieta ; and those other six pieces, in each of which he so accurately pursues Durer, Lucas, and some others of the old masters, as makes it almost impossible to discerne the ingenious fraud. We did not speak of the heads of the famous men in the Court of the Emperor, set forth bv ^gidius Sadeler; as Raphael (his brother) had the Bavaria Sancta, representing all the saints of that pious country. Albert Durer's Teivrdannekhs, or romantic description of the Amours of Maximilian and Maria de Burgundy : the book is in high Dutch : * he has likewise cut Petrarch's Utriusque Fortunce Remedia, which admirable treatise being translated into the German language, is adorn'd with the gravings of Hans Sibald Behem, Ammanus, Aide- grave, and most of the rare masters of that age. Finally, he has cut the Stor'ies of ^puleius his golden Asse ; and sprinkled divers pretty Inventions and capriccios in an old impression of Cicero's Epistles : and with this recollection of what we had omitted in the foregoing * It is written in Teutonic Verse by Mel. Pfintzing, and published in folio at Nuremburg, 1519, 303 paragraphs (to which they are reducible) we will take leave of the Dutch Sculptors, and passe on to The French, who challenge the next place in this recension ; for their gravings in Taille Douce, which began to be in reputation after Rosso, the Florentine painter, had been invited and caress'd by that worthy and illustrious Meccsnas of the arts, Francis the First : about which time Petit Bernard of Lyons publish'd the stories for the Bible of St. Hierom, performing such things in little, for the design and ordinance as are worthy of imitation : so greatly he approach'd the antique in the garb of his figures, distances, architecture, and other accessories of the storle. We have some of these engraven by this artist, and printed long since at Lyons, with the argument under each cut, in the English verse of those times, which appears to have been done about the beginning of the Reformation, when. It seems, men were not so much scandallz'd at holy representations. Nicholas Beatrlclus a. Loraneze graved his Horse Coiiflicts, and several books of Animals and TVildbeasts ; the Widdoive s son raised to Life ; the jlnnuntiation, after M. Angelo ; the jlrk of the Catholick Chu7'ch, after that rare table of Mosaic In S. Peter's of Giotto, &c. Phlllppus Thomasinus's labours are worthy of eternity, so excellent was his choice, so accurate his graver; wltnesse the Fall of Lucifer ; the Universal Judgment ; the Ship we but now mentlon'd ; the Seven fVorhs of Mercy ; 13. Felix ; the Mii'acles of the Capucines ; the Statues of Rome In little ; the labours of many famous persons ; the Baj)tisme of our Saviour, after Salvlatl ; St. John the Evangelist in the boyling Oyle ; St. Stepheiis Lapidation, after Ant. Pomarancio; the Magi of Zuccharo ; Mary presented in the Temple, of Barroc- clo ; the Life of St. Catharine ; Fuma, divers Sea Monsters after Bernardino Passero ; and some things of Vanni ; not to omit his Camea, collected from several curious Achates and other precious stones; besides shields, trophies, gordlan knots, with variety of Instru- ments and other works too long here to recite minutely. Chrlsplnus de Pas and his sister Magdalen (whether French or Dutch) have engraven many excellent things after Breughel ; espe- cially Landskips ; the Persecution of the Prophets and Apostles ; 304 with several more : but that Liberum Belgium, by Simon de Pas his Father, or Brother (1 know not whether), dedicated to Prince Maurice of Nassau, is a very rare cut. Who has not beheld with admiration the incomparable burine of Claudius Melan, celebrated bv the great Gassendus, and employed by the most noble and learned Perieskius. The Sudarium of St. Vero- nica, where he has formed a head as big as the life it self with one only line beginning at the point of the nose, and so by a spiral turning of the graver finishing at the utmost hair, is a prodigy of his rare art and invention ; because It is wholly new, and perform'd with admira- ble dexterity : nor has he less merited for his St. Fr-ancis, St. Bruno, the Pointed Magdalen, Pojie Urbane the VIII. and divers others to the life, especially those of the illustrious Justiniani, Perieskius, and the several frontispieces to those truly Royal works. Poets, and other authors, printed at the Louvre. Mauperch has published some pretty landsklps ; La Pautre many most usefull varieties and ornaments for Architects and other work- men ; florid, and full of fansie ; especially the Ceremonies at the Coro- nation of the present French King. Morin has left us a St. Bernard, a Scidl, his great Crucifix, some rare Heads ; especially that representing our B. Saviour, and other things in aqua-fortis, perform'd with singular art and tendernesse ; as also some rare Landskips and Ruines, after Polemburch and others. N. Chaperon has etched the Xystus or Gallery of Raphael in the Vatican, with incomparable successe, as to the true draught ; and so has th5 (as much as to say the principal beam and summer or rather from arcus and trabs,) call architrave ; Ut velint trabern hanc Arcus vices sustinere qui d. columna ad columnam sinuari solet, as Baldus, with reason, from its position upon the column, or rather 392 indeed the abacus of the capital. It is the very first member of that which we call entablature in our translation of the Parallel ; and for- merly in the Tuscan order, framed for the most part of timber in regard of the distant intercolumnation. It is also frequently broken into two or three divisions, call'd by artists Fascias, or rather, plain fasces, a little prominent, the lowest being ever the narrowest. These breaks arriving sometimes to 17, sometimes to 18 minutes in breadth, some rather choose to call faces than fascias, swathes, fillets, or bands, by which they are usually dis- tinguish'd into first, second, and third, especially in the three latter orders ; for in the Tuscan and Doric they do not so properly enter, though our Parallel yield us two approv'd examples. These are fre- quently, and indeed for the most part, separated with a small astragal cut into heads, or some such slight carving; the fascias of the archi- trave likewise curiously wi'ought, as in that wonderful instance of a Corinthian entablature taken out of Dloclesian's bathes. Fascia, in the notion I would rather take it, should be for that narrower band about the Tuscan and other basis as some call it ; or rather the square list under the superior to7nis in some pedestals nam'd supercilium, and not properly the to7-us it self, as in divers English profiles they erroneouslv make it ; for supercilium seems to be a kind ot corona or drip to the subjacent members. In chimneys the architrave is the mantle; and over the antepagmenta or jambs of doors, and lintells of windows, the hyperthyron, which the Italians call sopprafrontale, and our carpenters the king-piece, immediately under the corona as a large table to supply the freeze, especially in the Doric order, and chiefly over porticos and doors ; whilst, as to the precise rule for the fillet of the architrave, the Tuscan challenges one ; the Doric and Composlta two ; the Corinthian three ; sometimes interrupted to let in a table for an inscription. I'he uppermost fascia of the architrave for the most part is, and indeed always should be (the Tuscan only excepted), adorn'd with a Lysis, or Cymatium inverted, which is no more than a wrought or plain o-gee as our workmen barbarously name it ; the term is Kvi^ktiov undula, and signifies a rolling wave to the resemblance whereof it is moulded. 393 By some it is call'd the throat, as from the Italian and French, gola, geule, or doucine, and of these there are two kinds; the first and principal hath always its cavity above, and doth constantly jett over the corona or drip like a wave ready to fall, and then is properly call'd sima; the other has its hollow below, and is nam'd inversa, the one convex, the other concave : the letters /thus placed do reasonably well express these kind of mouldings, which not only enter into the member of the architrave where 'tis ever inverted, but (as we said) perpetually above the corona, where they do frequently encounter and meet together with a small regula between them, which, as it were, separate the parts as the freeze from the cornice and the like ; but then the neather is the Lesbvan ever reversed, and very narrow ; though ofttimes both of them carv'd and adorn'd with foliage, &c. In the Doric order the upmost cymatium of the entablature is somewhat different, consisting but of a single hollow only under the list : in the mean time, there is no small nicety among Architects about this necessary ornament, both as to the name and placing ; giving to the larger the name of cymatium revers'd, or doucine ; to the smaller, that of simus or flat-nos'd ; commonly placed beneath the other, under a small fillet; yet not so essentially, but that it has been supplied by the astragal ; however, the most natural place of the great cymatium is upon the superior cornice where our master gives it the name of epictJieates, and should ever cover the sloping sides oi frontoons or tymj^anum. Cymatium is also about the heads of modilions, and constitutes part of them, as likewise it enters into abacus, and on pedestals as in stylo- batce corona, and the base thereof, wliere we find them both inverted . though I remember to have seen the upmost with the recta also in the cornice abovemention'd. But instead of cymatium separating the archi- trave and freeze, tcenia oftentimes supplies the room. Tcenia is properly Diadema, a bandlet or small fillet with which they used to bind the head ; and rather those Lemnisci and rubans which we see carv'd and dangling at the ends of gyrlands. The interpreter of Hans Bloome names it the top of a pillar but very insolently ; it being indeed the small fascia part of the Doric architrave (or as Perault, strictly belonging to the cornice alone) sometimes, but seldom, 3 £ 394 with a narrow cymatium or regula under it, as that runs under the triglyphs as a kind of base : some call it the neather Taenia (as Philander frequently) to distinguish it from the bandage which com- poses the capitelli of the triglyphs, and continues between them over the metops, and not seldom under a cavetto or small cymatium with which Suidas and other learned critics many times confound it. In a word 'tis that in the Doric architrave which cymatium is in the other order, and separates the epistylium or architrave from the Freeze, the word in Greek is Zwocpo'^oj and does genuinely import the imaginary circle of the zodiac depicted with the twelve signs ; but by our Architects 'tis taken for the second division of the entablature above the columns, being like a fair and ample table between the former teniae, and which though oftentimes plain should hepulvinatics, pillow'd, or swelling in the Ionic order ; but in the Doric enrich'd with the triglyph and metops, and with a thousand Historical, Symbolic, Gro- tesque and other florid inventions in the rest of the orders (Tuscan excepted), especially the Corinthian and Composita, and sometimes with inscriptions. Our term is deriv'd either from the Latin phri/gio a border, or from the Italian freggio, which denotes any fring'd or embroider'd belt. Philander says a. phrygionibiis, not from the Phryges, a people of the Minor Asia, as some erroneously, but v/irygiones, a certain broidery or flowr'd needle work, as one should sav Troy-stitchy whence haply our true-stitch) in imitation whereof they wrought flowers and compartments upon the freeze ; which is commonly no broader than the architrave : in the Ionic if plain, a fourth part less ; if wrought a fourth part larger, of which see more where we spake of ornaments. Besides this of the entablature, the capitals of both Tuscan and Doric have the freeze likewise commonly adorn'd with four roses and as many smaller flowers, for which cause 'tis called the freeze of the capital also, as w^e noted, to distinguish it from the other; likewise hypotrachelium, from its posture between the astragal and the regula, or annulus of the echinus : this Tuscan freeze is plain and very simple ; but in the rest of the orders it Is employed with the echinus, as In the lonica, and the capital caullculi or stalkes in the other two ; these 395 roses are also sometimes insculped under the prominent horns or angles of the Doric abacus. The Triglyfhs, which I aflBrm'd to be charged on the Doric freeze, is a most inseparable ornament of it. The word T^iy\\)(poq in Greek imports a three sculptur'd T^\ece, quasi tres hahens glyplias. By their triangular furrows, or gutters rather, they seem to me as if they were meant to convey the guttse or drops which hang a little under them ; though there are who fancy them to have been made in imitation of Apollo's lyre, because first put in work (as they affirm) at the Delphic temple. You are to note that the two angular hollows are but half chanell'd, whence they are call'd semicanaliculcB, to distinguish them from the canaliculi whose flutings are perfect, and make up the three with their interstices or spaces, being as many flat and slender shanks, for so we may interpret the 1^2d\x\e femora : one of these is ever plac'd 'twixt two columns, and should be about the breadth of half its diameter below. The Italians name them pianetti, small plains, and so do we ; and they constantly reacli the whole diameter of the freeze, being crown'd with the formerly mention'd capital, part of the upper taenia, and determining with the neather, where it intercepts them from the prominent. Guttce, or Drops. It is certainly the most conspicuous part of the Doric freeze, supposed to have been at first so carved upon boards, only that had been clap'd on the extremities of the cantherii, joists or rafters ends, which bore upon the upper fascia of the architrave, to take oflF from the deformity, as also were the triglyphs. How indispensably necessary they are both to be placed in a just and due scjuare from each other, and perpendicularly over their columns, the author of the "Paral- lel" has shew'd, chap. 2, part 1 ; as in that of the temple of Solomon, according to Villalpandus's design, how they have been admitted into the Corinthian freeze but without the guttce and so in the Persique. These guttce are, as I said, those six appendant drops or tears affected only to the Doric order, seeming as it were to trickle down and flow from the channels and shanks of the triglyphs through the neatner taenia, and small reglet or moulding under it. Guttce are sometimes made in shape of flat triangles, sometimes 396 swelling like the section of a cone or bell (but square at the bottom}, and therefore so call'd by the French Architects. They are also under the planton and the modllions which support the cornice, eighteen in number, exactly over the triglyphs, as in that most conspicuous elevation of the profile after the stately relique at Albano near Rome, than which nothing can be imagln'd more noble and magnificent. Albert! calls these guttae clavos, as conceiving them to be in resemblance of nails, but without any reason for his conjecture. MetopcB are the next in order, and are nothing else save those empty spaces in the freeze 'twixt the triglyphs in the Doric order, either puree and plain, or figur'd, for that is not necessary always, to the great ease of Architects, who oftentimes find it so difficult to place them at just distances, that, except in church-works, they frequently leave them out. The word is deriv'd of ^era 0V17, which is foramen, intervallum inter Sculpturce cava, or if you will, Intertignium, as importing here rather the forenamed spaces, than what those pretend who will fetch It from the MiTUTtov, or forehead of the beasts whose sculls (remaining after the sacrifices) were usually carved in these Intervals ; because in these va- cuities were the passages for the ends of the joysts, timbers and rafters which rested upon the architrave, and were to fill up that deformity : they usually made it up with some such ornaments, supjjose of skulls, dishes, and other vessels; nay sometimes with Jupiter's squib or thunder- bolt, targets, battle-axes, roses, and such other trophies, as were found most apposite to the occasion, and not preposterously fill'd them (as our workmen too often do) without any relation to the subject ; so as I have frequently seen oxes heads carved on the freeze of an house of pleasure in a garden, where roses and flowers would have been more proper. There are sundry other ornaments likewise belonging to the freeze, such as cncarpa, festoons, and frutages, tyed to the horns of the skulls with taeniaj and ribbands tenderly flowing about this member, and sometimes carried by little Puti, boys, cupids, and a thousand other rich Inventions to be found in good examples. But we are now arrlv'd to the third and last member of the entablature, separated from the freeze by the superior taenia, the cornice. The Cornice, Coronis, or as it is collectively taken for its several and 397 distinct mouldings and ornaments, comprehends 1. regula ; 2. cymatium; 3. dentelli ; 4. ovolo or echinus ; 5. modilions or bedding-mouldings which support the corona; 6. sima recta and inversa (rarely a cavetto); 7. and lastly, another regula, which concludes the whole order. We will begin with the first, being sometimes a small scotia consisting of an half or quarter round, that now and then also both in the Tuscan and Doric divides the freeze from the cornice in place of the taenia, as does the cvniatium in the rest of the orders. The Ovolo is next in the plainer orders ; but it is inrich'd in the Corin- thian like the echinus, which (if you please) you may take for the same thing in an Italian dress, some like eggs, some like hearts with darts symbolizing love, &c. In the Tuscan and Doric 'tis turn'd like a scima or cymatium, and is substituted for support of the corona ; but in the last 'tis usually accompanied with a slender regula above it, and in the Corinthian both above and beneath, where it is likewise frequently carv'd and adorn'd with a broad welt like a plinth. Dentelli, are the teeth (a member of the cornice) immediately above the cymatium of the freeze, by some named also assert from their square form ; I say in the Corinthian and Ionic, &c. for in the Doric order they were not antiently admitted, or rather not properly, according to the opinion of our master, though we must needs acknowledge to have found them in the most authentic pieces extant. As for their dimen- sions, they kept to no certain rule, but made them sometimes thicker, sometimes thinner, square, or long, and more in number; but commonly the spaces less by an half, sometimes by a third part than the teeth, which were themselves twice as high as their breadth, and fre- quently (especially in the more polite orders) beginning with the cone of a pine, pendent at the very point over the angular column. Loma- tius is yet more precise in this particular, and gives them as much height as the middle fascia of the architrave, projecture, equal (somewhat too much) front twice the breadth of their height, and a third part less than their breadth for vacuity. The dentelli have oftentimes a small regula, and now and then more than one, as usually in the lonica, where it has likewise an ovolo or echinus for the bedding of the corona ; but it in- riched, and that two of them encounter, one should be simple and plain, 398 as where it happens to be be inserted beneath it. Next to this superior echinus are the modilions ; but instead of' them denteUi are thought to have been first instituted, and for that reason superfluously joyn'd where mutules are; and therefore where we find taenia under modilions, it is not properly divided into teeth, nor is it rashly to be imitated, though we have some great examples to countenance it. That of the Pantheon may safely guide us herein, where it is left plain for this very cause, and that the reason of the thing does not in truth allow it. However, it must be acknowledged, nothing has been more grossly abused even amongst our most renowned masters. 3Iodilions, being certain supports in form of corhells, cortonzes, and mutules, are a kind of bragets to the corona, and in those orders where they enter, supply the part of the bedding-moulding, as our workmen style the ovolo in this place ; for so they frequently do in the Doric and Ionic, but then without any other ornament than a slight cymatium to hedge them, and to be always placed over the triglyphs. In the Corin- thian and Composita (which is their true place) they are enriched with all the delicateness and curiosity imaginable (^especially in the Corin- thian) capp'd, as 1 said, with a curiously carv'd small cymatium, where they are contiguous to the j)la7ice}-e or roof of the corona. Our ordinary w^orkmen make some distinction between modilions and those other sorts of bragets which they call cartells and mutules, usually carv'd like the handels of vessels scroul'd, flow'rd, and sometimes sculptur'd with the triglyph : and such were the ancones amongst the Greeks ; and such are often found supporting little tables for inscriptions, the stools of windows which jetty out, and shields, and compartments for coats of arms, &c. That there should be no guttce under mutules, or dentelli under modillions, is the opinion of divers learn'd Architects, though (as w^as said) we frequently find them chanell'd like the triglyph, and that in authentick examples. Philander is for it, and pronounces them more proper than even under the purest triglyph, for signifying (says he) Cante- riorum Capita, uncle stillicidium Jieri certum est, drops and icicles com- monlv hanging at the ends of our rafters upon every weeping shower, whereas trigli/phi import only the projectui'es of the beams and tim- bers nothing so much exposed : but this I leave to the more judicious ; 399 whilst, as to their shape, they should be square under the corona at double their breadth the interval, and just over the middle of the columns : how otherwise us'd, see in Tympanum, Mutules. Mutules, quasi i/.VTtXos (a kind of modilions also, or rather the same under an Italian term) have their name from their defect, as being made thinner and more abated below than above, and therefore naturally and discreetly destin'd to places where they are but little burthen'd with weight, as here under that little remainder of the cornice, are to bear up little statues, busts, vasas, &c. ; and so where they are set under the peda- ments and lintels of doors and windows. Most preposterous, there- fore, and improper is our frequent assigning such weak supporters to such monstrous jetties and excessive superstructures as we many times find under balconies, bay-windows, and long galle- ries ; where instead of mutules the antients would have plac'd some stout order of columns. But by these unreasonable projectures (ob- scuring the lights of the rooms under them) it comes to pass, that in time our strongest houses are destroyed, and drawn to their irrecoverable ruin. For the proportion of mutules, I commonly find them a fourth part higher than their breadth, their intervals being as wide as two ; but neither do I find these so constantly regular, only that there be ever one plac'd at the corners and returns of the corona ; and then if they interchangeably differ as to the spaces, and as the rafters direct, there are examples abundant for their justification. And after all, they little differ from modilions, save that they are most proper to the Doric cor- nice, representing and covering the ends of the rafters; whereas modilion serves for any order. I shall not need to define what is meant by Projectures, when I have said it is the same our English authors call the sailings over and out-jet- tings of any moulding beyond the upright wall. The Italians name them sporti, the Greeks ecjj/ioras, and for the same reason all margins whatsoever which hang over beyond the scapus of a column are Projec- tures ; and for a general rule it should be equal to the breadth of what projects, relation being discreetly had to the height, which best deter- mines it. Corona, is next the last considerable member remaining of the intire 400 entablature, and (tho' but a part only of the cornice) seems indeed to set the crown upon the whole work. I say considerable, because being regularly plac'd so near the uppermost ovolo or mutules, it serves to de- fend all the rest of the edifice from the rain and injuries of the weather, and therefore has its projectures accordingly, and should be one of the strongest square members of the cornice. It is sometimes taken for the intire cornix or cornice with all its ornaments, but strictly, for that part of it a])ove the modilions, ovolo, echinus or ogee, by a turn under the planceere. We find the corona omitted and quite left out of that stately Arco cli Leoni, but it is worthily reproved by our author of the Pa- rallel, as being a member of indispensable use. Corona is by some call'd supercilium, but rather I conceive stillicidium the drij) (JJorona elv- colata vite), and with more reason; so the French larmier, gocciola- toio and ventale by the Italians, to denote its double office of protecting both from water and wind. For this reason likewise have our Latin authors nam'd this broad plinth mentum, a chin ; because it carries off the wet from falling on the rest of the entablature, as the prominency of that part in mens faces keeps the sweat of the brows and other liquid distillations from trickling into the neck ; and in imitation hereof, the antlent potters invented the brimming of their vessels, by turning over some of the ductile matter when the work was on the wheel. Some- times there have been two coronas in a cornice, as in that Corinthian instance of the Rotunda; and so it is frequentlv used in the stylohatce wwAqx gula inversa ; and truly it may be justly repeated, as the expo- sure and occasion requires it (so it be not too near one another), all projectures being but a kind of corona to the subjacent members ; and therefore their projectures are accordingly to be assign'd, and by no means to be cut and divided to let in windows and tables. Corona is also taken for the interior and exterior curvature of an arch, or vault. The under part of the roofs of coronas (which are commonly wrought hollow, by sometimes, as we said, making part of the cymatlum) are by our Artists call'd planceeres, and those the cofers, wherein are cut the roses, pomgranades, flowers or fretts which adorn the spaces betwixt the heads of the modilions and mutules. This ceiline^the Italians name soffito, and it signifies not only that part of the corona which sallies 401 over, but the lacunar, lacus, or plain of all other roofs made of tabu- lations and boards appearing between the joysts, and which (as now, especially in other countries) were also formerly gilded, carv'd, and most magnificently emboss'd with fretts of wonderful relievo ; nay sometimes to the excess of inlayings with ivory, mosaique and other rich and charge- able works. Pliny, 1. 35. cap. 11. tells us of one Pamphillus, the master of Apelles, to have been the first which brought this roof-painting into vogue. But I refer the reader who thirsts after more of this, to the learned Salmasius on Sollnus, p. 1215. Nor is yet the corona perpe- tually plain as we commonly see it; sometimes (though rarely Indeed) I find it carv'd also, as in that incomparable Composita of Titus's Arch, and that of Dioclesian's Baths in the Corinthian order, and as Is indeed every individual member of that entire entablature to the utmost excess of art; but how far this may be Imltable, consult the judicious " Parallel;" while 'tis yet considerable that it is there but with a kind of sulcus or channel, in Imitation of triglyph, or a short fluting rather, being indeed more proper for carrying off the water than any other work could have been devised. Corona has over It a small regula, or an Inrlchment of some sleight chaplet in the Corinthian, &c. after which cymatium, as in that of Titus's Arch before rehearsed ; sometimes likewise with an ovolo or echinus cut with ovals and darts (or as we call them eggs and ankers) as In that example of Nero's Frontispiece, and upon this again the double cymatium, whereof the first Is inverted, and over the neathermost and most narrow, the other recta, very large and prominent, being now and then adorn'd with lyons heads plac'd just opposite to the modilions (of which see that curious research of the learned Dr. Broun in his Viila-nr Errors^, though sometimes they are adorn'd with foliage only. Lastly, for a final ItrSri-xri or sujyer-imposition (if I may be indulg'd so to name it), we are now climb'd to the most supream j)rojecture, and ulti- mate part of the whole cornice, namely, the Regula, which some make a part of the sima or gula recta, by Palladlo the intavolato, and which I think to be the sole member which I never remember to have seen any where carv'd, but always plain, though in some of the orders of near eight minutes in breadth. It is very true, that scotia (which I now and then call cavetto or small hollow) does In some 3 F 402 laudable examples support this member Instead of cymatium, but not so frequently ; and that the Tuscan cornice terminates in a cymatium without this regula, or rather in an ovolo, as in those examples after Sebastian Serlio, &c. ; but it is not after a true gusto, and the fancy is particular. Regula, call'd also listello, cincta, &c. (of which some- thing already hath been spoken) is always that supercilium or superior member of the cornice, though it be likewise taken for that which is by some call'd quadra, being those two lists commonly call'd scotia, as we find it in the Ionic spira both above and beneath. Sometimes also it signifies the rings or small feruls beglrting the scapus of a column near the apophyges, or the plinth of a pedestal : therefore I distinguish them, though yet they may be accounted the same, seeing they usually import any small plain fillet dividing greater members ; for so Philander calls almost all simple parts broader or narrower, which like fillets encompass the rest ; or rather as sycis separates the members from contiguity, both for variety and distinction, as in the Doric trabeation, regula, sima, cymatium, &c. ; in the capital, regula, cymatium, plinthus ; in the cornice of the stylobata, also regula, cymatium, astragalus : but where it is no less conspicuous, is in that part of the trlglyph which jetts out under the taenia, and from which the guttse depend, where it seems to be a part of the very architrave it self. Lastly, before I alto- gether leave the cornice (which is indeed the top of all, and may be called the crown of the corona it self), it may rot be amiss to add this short note, forjoyners and such as make cornices of wainscot, or fret- work, concerning the projectures, which having relation to the height, an inch allow'd toevery foot suffice for a room of 15 foot pitch, which is one foot three inches, where there is freeze and cornice ; if much higher, and that there be the whole entablature, each shall require a tenth part. To conclude, the very meanest building, farm, or out-house, deserves a moulding, cornice with a quarter round or ovolo, a cymatium and fillet. And may thus much suffice to have been spoken of the cornice or upper member of the trabeation, which we mean by the entablature, for both these terms signifie but one and the same thing, viz. the archi- trave, freeze, and cornice ; which 1 therefore the more precisely note, because some writers apply it only to the very cover and upmost top of 403 the orders ; but so does not our country-man John Shute, whose book being printed anno 1584,* (and one of the first that was pubHshed of Architecture in the Enghsh tongue) keeps rather to the antient terms than by mixing them with such barbarous ones as were afterwards intro- duc'd, indanger the confusion of young students, and such as apphed themselves to the art. Finally, to reform another mistake I think good to note that where we find coronix in our authors, it is rather meant for all that moulding projecting over the dye or square of the pedestal (by some call'd cima) then this conclusive superior member of the en- tablature which we name the cornice. But I have done, nor needs there more be added for the perfect intelligence of the most minute member, and ornament mentioned in this Parallel, or I conceive in any other author whatsoever treating concerning this Art, and naturally ap- plicable to the order, by which we are all along to understand certain rules and members agreed on for the proportions and differences of co- lumns, the characters, figures and ornaments belonging to every part and member, whether bigger or lesser, plain or inrich'd : or as others, a regular arrangement of the principal and constituent parts of a co- lumn, from whence there results that composition which gives it useful- ness, with grace and beauty. This for consisting then of the several shapes and measures, obliges us to say something more of proportion, as being Indeed the very foundation of Architecture it self, rising, as we shew, from the representation of natural things ; nor is it in this Art only applicable to the dispositions and kinds of those edifices (which we have already spoken of), but to every individual member of an order, which Vitruvius will have taken from the regular dimensions and pro- portions of the parts of the humane body, in relation to any one moderate measure of the same body, differently multiplied in several parts : as for instance, the head for an eighth part of the whole ; twice from the point of one shoulder to the other extream, &c. ; thrice in the arm, four times from the hip downwards, &c. ; or, as Albert Durer, by multiplying the * In folio, and entitled, " The first and chief Grounds of Architecture vsed in all the auncient and famous Monyments; with a farther and more ample Discourse vpon the same than hitherto hath been set out by any other." 1563, and reprinted in 1584. i» / 404 face from the bottom of the chin to the upper part of the forehead, reckons the whole length to be ten, et sic de ccBteris ; according to which the diameter of a column shall be ten times in the height of the Corin- thian ; the intercolumniation eustyle, two and a quarter, &c. of which let the curious consult our master learned interpreter, lib. 3. cap. 1. where he discourses of positive and unalterable establishments; whilst that which we mean by proportion here, is the scale by which all the parts are regulated as to their just measures and projectures, and this has by Artists been call'd the Modul, or as Vitruvius (and some will have it) ordonation ; ex- plained by modica commoditas, to be taken for the parts or quantities by w'hich the several members of an order are calculated and adjusted in their composition. In the mean time, to avoid all uncertainties and per- plexity of measures differing in most countries, some dividing into more, others into fewer parts, to the great ease of both Architects and Work- men, by Moduls* is to be understood the diameter or semi-diameter of a column of whatever order, taken from the rise of the shaft or superior member of the base, namely, at the thickest and most inferior part of the cylinder ; from whence Monsieur de Chambray (following Palladio and Scamozzi), taking the semi-diameter divided into 30 equal parts or minutes, make it to be the universal scale. Now tho' Architects gene- rally measure by the whole diameter (excepting only in the Doric, which they reckon by the half,) it makes no alteration here, so as the workman may take which he pleases. We proceed next to the orders themselves ; nor let it be thought a needless repetition, if having given the learner (for to such I only speak) so minute and full a description of all those parts and members whereof the several orders are compos'd and dlstlnguish'd, I go on to shew how they are put together in work, by what they have in common, or peculiar to denominate the species, and bring the hitherto scattered and dispersed limbs into their respective bodys. We have already shew'd (speaking of capitals) that a column, which is strictly the naked post or cylinder only, does not assume the name * Note, that to distinguish it from Modell, by which is signified the type (or geonielrical repre- sentation of a buildinj) this is to be read with the fifth vowel, that by the second. 405 and dignity of any order, till compleatly qualified with those parts and accessaries which give it name, pre-eminence and rank ; but being so distinguish'd, they are to Architects what the several Modes are in Music, and carminum genere among the Poets : all buildings whatso- ever coming properly under the regiment of some one or other of them, or at least ought to do, and thev are five (according to the vulgar ac- count), namely, Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composita. But smce the first and last of these are not admitted by our great masters, as legitimate orders (to which indeed the antient Greeks claim only title), we might with Vitruvius, and our author of the "Parallel," leave them to bring up the rear; did not custom, as we said, and common use suffi- ciently justify our assigning this place for the Tuscaji, Rustic, or by whatever name dignified, or disgrac'd : for being seldom found in the antient fabrics of the Romar\s themselves, by which name it is also call'd, it seems yet to challenge some regard from its resemblance to those plain and simple rudiments of those primi- tive buildings, where they laid a beam on the top of two forked posts, newly cut and brought out of the forest, to support that which gave covering and shade to the first Architects, such as they were, and we have describ'd ; till time and experience, which mature and perfect all things, brought it into better form and shape; when the Asiatic, Ly- dians, who are said first to have peopled Italy, brought it into that part of it call'd Tuscany. Nor let it altogether be despis'd because of its native plainness, which rarely admits it into buildings where ornament Is ex- pected ; since besides its strength and sufficiency (which might com- mute for its want of other beauty, and give place at the ports and en- trances of great cities, munitions, magazines, amphitheatres, bridges, prisons, di.c. that require strength and solidity), we find it capable also of such illustrious and majestic decorations, as may challenge all the Grecian orders to shew any thing approaching to it, so long as those three famous Columns, those of Trajan and Antoninus's at Rome, and a third of Theodoslus's at Constantinople, stand yet triumphant, and braving so many thousands of the other orders, which lie prostrate, bu- ried in their dust and ruins. Nor Is this the first example (as some pretend) as appears by that antient Pillar erected to Valerius Maximus, 406 sirnam'd Corvinus, on which was plac'd a raven, in memory of what happen'd in the famous duel between that hero and the gygantic Gaule. Thus whilst the rest of the orders are assisted to support their charge and heavy burdens by their fellows, and a conjugation of entablature not allow'd to this, the Tuscan stands alone like an island, steady and as immoveable as a rock. This column, with its base and capital, is in length seven diameters, taken at the thickest part of the shaft below ; the pedestal one ; the base one module or half diameter, which divided into two equal parts, one shall be the plinth, the other for the torus and cincture, which being but a fourth part of the breadth in this order only, makes a part of the base ("peculiar to it self alone), as in the other it does of the shaft it self. The capital is one module, which divided into three equal parts, one shall be for the abacus, the other the ovolo, the third parted into seven, whereof one is the list, and the remaining six for the column. The lower astragal is double the height of the list under the ovolo. Note, that Vitruvius makes no difference 'twixt the capital of this order from the Doric, as to proportions, tho' Artists dispute it, who (as was said) allow it a semi-diameter. Now, tho' they have not granted it any fixt and certain entablature, but chosen what they thought fit out of other orders, yet they seldom give it less than a fourth part of the height of the shaft, like the Doric, which commonly, and very properly, supplies the place of the Tuscan, and that with a great deal of more grace, where they stand in consort, as in arches, atid the like. The distance or intercolumniation of this order, sometimes amounting to four diameters, sometimes requires an architrave of timber ; or if of stone, to be plac'd much nearer, unless (as we said) in vaulting and underground work, to which some almost wholly con- demn it. The Doric, so nam'd from Dorus King of Achasis, reported to have been the first who at Argos built and dedicated a temple to Juno of this order, is esteem'd one of the most noble, as well as the first of the Greeks, for its masculine, and, as Scamozzi calls it, Herculean aspect, not for its height and stature, but its excellent proportion, which fits it in all respects, and with advantage, for any work wherein the Tuscan is 407 made use of, and renders that column (among the learned) a supernu- merary, as well as the Composlta. The Doric, base and capital, challenges eight diameters set alone ; but not so many by one, in porticos and mural work. The capital, one module, with its abacus, ovolo, annulets, hypotra- chelium, astragal, and list beneath the capital, making a part of the shaft or column. The entablature being more substantial than the rest of the Greek orders, requires a fourth part of the height of the columns ; whereas the others have commonly but a fifth. The architrave one module, compos'd but of a single fascia, as best approv'd, (tho' the modern sometimes add a second) with a taenia or band which crowns it. The freeze with its list, which separates it from the cornice, is 1 modi. ^. The cornice holds the same proportion, with this note, that when the column is above 7 diameters, both freeze and architrave have their regu- lated measure, one being of a single module, the other being three quarters, and the remainder being a fourth part of the column is cast into the cornice. This order had of old no pedestal at all, and indeed stands handsomely without it ; but where it is us'd, Palladlo allows it two diameters and a third of the column, and is often plac'd upon the attic-base, for antlently it had none. We find it sometimes fluted uith a short edge without interstice, as there is in other orders ; but that which is indeed the proper and genuine character of the Doric, is (with very moderate enrichment besides) the triglvph and metop in the freeze, with guttse in the archi- trave beneath ; the due collocation and placing of wlilch, often subjects our Architects to more difficulty than any other accessary in the other orders ; because of the intercolumnlation, which obliges them to leave such a space 'twixt two columns, as may not be less than for one triglyph to five, counting what falls just on the head of the columns ; which if plac'd at the entrance of a building, the distance must be for three, which toadjust is not very easy, seeing the intercolumnlation ought to correspond with the distance of the spaces of the triglyphs and metops ; which point 408 of criticisme is the cause we often find them quite left out in this order, which suits so well in the pycnostyle and acrostyle. The Ionic, invented or introduc'd hy Ion, sent by those of Athens with a colony into that part of Greece bearing his name, (and where he erected a temple to Diana,) consists of proportions between the solid and manly Doric, the delicate and more feminine Corinthian, from which it but little differs, save in the matron-like capital ; it contains eighteen modules or nine diameters (tho' by one less at first), together with the capital and base, which last was added to give it stature. The entablature is allowed a fifth part of the heio-ht of the column of 1 o which the base takes one module, (with sometimes a small moulding of twenty minutes,) the capital very little exceeding a third ; but its dis- tinguishing characteristic is the voluta, concerning which sundry Archi- tects have recommended their peculiar methods for the tracing and turning that ornament, especially Vignola and Goldman. The famous Mich. Anp-elo had one after his own mode, and so others; but that which has been chiefly followed, is what Philibert de Lorme contends to be of his own invention. This column is fluted with four and twenty plaits ; the spaces or in- terstices not sharp and edg'd like the Doric (which is allowed but twenty,) tho' of the same depth and hollow to about a third part down- ward, where they are convexly staved, and thence nam'd radiant, by some riident, tho' of old we find them fluted the whole length. Thus as the capital resembled the modest tresses of a matron, so did the fluting, the folds and plaits of their garments. The pedestal Is of two diameters and as many thirds. Several other observations pretend to this order, to render it elegant, which are left to the curious, but these are the more essential. The Corinthian had her birth from that luxurious city : trick'd up and adorn'd like the wanton sex, and Is the pride and top of all the orders : for the rest it agrees with the proportion of the Ionic, excepting only In the capital ; In a word. It takes with Its base nine diameters and three quarters, and sometimes ten. If fluted, with as many as the Ionic, half as deep as large ; the llstel or space between the groves, a third of the 409 depth ; yet not so precisely, but that according to the compass and sta- tion of the column, the flutes may be augmented to thirty and above. Our modern Architects, for the most part, allow but one fifth of the height of this column to the entablature, comprehending base and capi- tal : I say for the most part, but in the noblest and most intlre exam- ples of antiquity, which is that of the Roman Pantheon, the entablature is indeed somewhat deeper; but with this circumspection to be imitated, that the fabric to which it is applied, be great and magnificent as that famous temple is, and which will depend on the judgment of the Ar- chitect. The Capital \s of one diameter, or two modules in height; the abacus a sixth or seventh part of the diameter taken at the bigger end of the column, which is universally to be understood in the measure of all the orders. The rest shall be divided into three equal parts : one for the first border or toure of leaves; the other for a second ; the third part divided in two ; and of that which is next the abacus, the volutas are form'd. Of the other, the cauliculi, the bell or burst under the leaves, resembling Callimachus's basket, under which they are carv'd, fall exactly with the hollow of the flutings. In the mean time there is no small inquiry about the foliage, of what species of thistle the antients form'd this florid ornament, which is generally attributed to the Branchce Ursince, but of a tender, more indented and flexible kind, than the wild and prickly, which we see us'd in the Gothic buildings ; whilst the Composita capi- tals stuck it with laurel and olive leaves, emerging out of the vessel, with the voluta above the echinus, and as Palladio would have it (espe- cially of the olive) the sprigs plac'd from five to five like the fingers of one's hand, as becoming it better than four, and commends some capitals he had seen whose cauliculi were fac'd with oaken leaves. Note, that the scrolls seeming to be form'd out of the cauliculi, the roses in the middle of the abacus, was sometimes by the antients of the same breadth, which since they make to bend on the middle voluta. The Base of this order is fifteen minutes of a module. The Pedestal requires a fourth part of the height of the columns, and shall be divided into eight parts : one to the cymatium, two for the base (which is the Attic), the rest for the zoccole or die ; and thus do the 3 G 410 three Greek orders represent those three species of building, the solid, the modest-mean, and the delicate, between the simple plain, the gay, and wanton, which are the I^atin extreams ; whilst the Gothic is risen from the corruption of them all ; for after all, there's none has been more grossly abused, than this flourishing and noble order, by such as with their impertinence have sometimes rendered it neither Corinthian nor Composita, which is the fifth and last. The Composita being the junior of all the rest, and foreigner to the Greek, is of a Roman extraction, and therefore by some called Italian ; and tho' not without sufficient insolence, taking place of the Corinthian, between whom and the Ionic she's but a spawn and mungrell, as well as the Tuscan, and so reckoned among judicious Architects, and by our master himself not so much as own'd an order, as not thinking it possible to invent a more noble and compleat than the Corinthian. They would fain, it seems, have one to bear the country's name, and that, as they insulted over and brav'd the rest of the world, should sit triumphant over the rest of the orders, from whom they have pluck'd their fine and gawdy plumage, priding it over the Corinthian, from whom and the Ionic she only differs one diameter more in height. The Capitals, four angular scrolls, take up all that space which in the Corinthian is partly fiU'd with the caullculi and stalks, and now and then an eagle or griffon is found to nestle among the foliage, of which it has a series of two rows, and under the ovolo the Ionic neck-lace ; whilst others affirm, that the variety of the capital changes not the species, which consists (as Perrault will have it) in the length of the shaft only ; so as no body is to wonder at the prodigious licentiousness which some we find have run into, to gratify their ambition. The French (of all the nations under Heaven, being the fondest of their own inventions, how extravagant soever, and to impose them on all the world beside) call it, forsooth, the Gallic order, and with a confidence peculiar to themselves, to alter and change what for almost two thousand years, none has been so bold to attempt with that exhorbitance ; for they have garnish'd this capital with cocks-feathers and cocks-combs too among the flower-de-luces, ridiculously enough ; hanging the leaves and stalks about with the chains and ribbons of the orders of the St. Esprit and 411 St. Michael, with its danghng cockle-shells, in imitation doubtless of Xerxes's tying the scarfs and garters of his concubine and misses, among the boughs of the famous platan ; whilst one would think we might be content with what the Romans have already set for a pattern on those antient columns of this order ; as I am sure the judicious au- thor of the " Parallel" would have been, who, contrary to the genius of his country-men, had the greatest aversion to the least innovation in this profession ; what (as we said) the Romans have left us being abun- dantly more graceful, and rather in excess. Wherefore, by another nice distinction, this learned commentator calls that the Composita which keeps to its lix'd rules and stated proportions; and that which others every day invent, the de cotnposit, or as his term is, compo-composit, and so sets it up for a sixth order. But to proceed. The EntablatiLve has by some been allow'd a fourth part of the column, but by Palladio only five, as to the Corinthian. The Base is as the y^ttic, or a compound of it and the Ionic. The Pedestal has a third of the height of the shaft : not but that any of these proportions so estabhsh'd (as sometimes, and upon just occa- sion) may be varied according to the quality and grandeur of the build- ing, as to the inlarging or diminishing of a member, if the judicious Architect see cause, and to be more graceful, which is a good rule in all such cases in the other orders, and for which Vitruvius gives excel- lent precepts, as he likewise does to their number and placing in single or double ranks, with their different application, as whether close to the wall or to the angle and extremes, where, if insulat and without touching, more thickness is allowable ; since, being surrounded by the air only, it Is made to appear so much the slenderer, as that some which have been found but of seven diameters only, have become their stations better than if they had held their intire dimensions. There now remains the Caryatides, of which, and of the Persian, we have an ample account in the "Parallel" out of Vitruvius, introduced as a mark of triumph over the Caryans of Peloponnesus, whom the Greeks, having vanquish'd with their confederates, caus'd the images and resemblances of both sexes and nations (as Slaves, Atlantes and Talamones,) to be plac'd 412 and stand under massie weight and superstructure, instead of columns, the women to signifie those of Carya, whom they only spared ; and the men, as captive Persians, which gave denomination to the order, if at least they may be call'd so for distinction sake only ; since they differ in nothing either of height, substance, or entablament from the feminine Ionic, and masculine Doric ; but how, or where they had originally been employed in any remarkable building, is not so perspicuous from any antient vestigia at present remaining : but as they seem most pro- perly to be plac'd at entrances, and before arches and porticos. Instead of plllasters, so doubtless they gave occasion to many Gothic absurdi- ties, and extravagant postures of men, monkeys, satyrs, &c. for the bear- ing up of cornices. In place of mutuls and cartouses, to that shameful impudence as we see them not seldom in our very Churches. There remain yet of columns divers other sorts, (to mention only the dullian, rostral, mural, obsidional, funebral, astronomial, and other symbolical monuments, which may upon some particular occasions have their places,) but no more that can honestly derive a legitimate pedegree ; for some are wreath'd, others spiral and the like : but as we meet them not in any approved author, or antient fabric, so are they very sparingly to be made use of, if at all. Indeed the famous Archi- tect, Cavalier Bernini, has cast a set of these torsed columns of a vast height, twisted about again with branches, among which are Puti, little Angels, Pope Urban s Bees, and other embossed Sculptures, all of gilded copper, to sustain the baldacchino, or sacred canopy, over the high altar under the cupola at St. Peter's, which are exceedingly mag- nificent ; but it does not always succeed so well where it is practic'd. 'Tis yet reported that there was an antient wreath'd column found some- where, wound about with a serpent, (as painters represent the tree in Paradise) taking nothing away from the straightness of the shaft ; for so the antients prefer'd the solid and substantial in all their works, admitting nothing to bear any weight that should seem in the least to pile, yield, or shrink under it, as those sorts of columns appear to do : but as the great masters, and such as Mich. Angelo, &c. invented certain new corbells, scrolls, and modillons, which were brought into use, so their followers, animated by their example (but with much less judgment), 413 have presum'd to introduce sundry baubles and trifling decorations (as they fancy) in their works, ambitious of being thought inventors, to the great reproach of this noble study ; so dangerous a thing it is to innovate either in art or government, when once the laws and rules are prudently settl'd and establish'd, without great consideration and necessity : and, therefore, tho' such devices and inventions may seem pretty in cabinet-work, tables, frames, and other joyners work, for variety, to place china-dishes upon, one would by no means encourage or admit them in great and noble buildings. Lastly, As to the placing of the orders and stations of columns in work : the simplest, strongest, and most substantial, are ever to be assign'd to support the weaker. The Romans indeed sometimes set the Composita above the Corinthian, but it was not approv'd of by the judicious, nor in truth should they appear together in the same building. Generally, then, the rule is this, to place the highest and richest order over the more solid and plain ; especially where they are to decore the face and fronts of buildings, consisting of two or three stages : but whether at all, or not, their proportions should be chang'd or abated, is nicely disputed by our Architects, of which see Monsieur Perrault on Vitruvius lib. vii. cap. 'J. speaking of scenes ; concluding, that it ought to be done very sparingly, and with great consideration. In the mean time, columns plac'd over arches produce this inconvenience, that the arches of any of the five orders, if well proportion'd (suppose, for instance, Doric), it will become defective in the Ionic and Corinthian, by reason of the intercolumnation ; the distance hindering their collocation so exactly over one another as become them. There is after all a lesser sort of column than any we have spoken of, which now and then we find plac'd over a much greater, next the roof, or rather a kind of pil- laster after the Attic mode. To conclude. The position of double columns upon the same pedestal, I find quite condemned by M. Blondell as intollerable, accounting it licentious ever among the antients ; which (as great artists do not always agree) Monsieur Perrault as learnedly defends and vindicates ; and that one is not so precisely oblig'd to rules and examples, but that in some cases they may safely be departed from for the better ; since it were to put 414 a stop to the improvements of all arts and inventions whatsoever, none of which were consummately perfect at the first ; besides that, there is nothing positive in the case : however, as to this particular, the antients did frequently use to join columns, two and two very near to one another upon the same pedestal, leaving a distance of two intercolum- nations in one ; which, tho' Perrault, holds to be a little Gothic and much aflFected by his country-men the French (as they do all novelties), so thev would have it pass for a peculiar manner of disposition : the Pseudo style is yet we find made use of by great Architects, and therefore to be referr'd to able judges. Notwithstanding, inasmuch as there do yet happen some superstruc- tures which both in works and books of this magnificent science have likewise names of doubtful signification, and to satisfie all that may be farther desir'd for the rendering of this undertaking more useful and instructive, I will in brief proceed to what is used to appear further in buildings, where they did not flatten the roofs and cover of edifices, and which tho' certainly of all other the most graceful, is of necessity alterable according to the climate. Those roofs which exalted themselves above the cornices had usually in face a triangular plain or gabel within the mouldings (that when our workmen make not so acute and pointed they call a pediment) which the antients nam'd Tympanum ; but this is to be taken now and then for the whole frontispiece from the cornice to the upmost part of the fastigium or superior angle of it, and is commonly circumscrib'd with the same cornice that the subjacent order is of. It is properly plac'd at the front and entrance, and over the porches, windows, niches, &c. to protect them from the injuries of the weather ; and therefore very impertinently broken or flatted by some, which exposes all that is under to many inconveniences ; nor should it be at all allowed, save where an absolute necessity of setting in sight (not otherwise to be had) pleads for it : now tho' they are commonly made triangular, we frequently find them semi-circular (or of some other section) whereof the base is the diameter. Some again have a double tympanum, as in that Tuscan example descrlb'd by Perrault, Vitr. 1. 3. where the standing out of 415 the porch from the rest of the main wall of a temple of that order requires it. I say before a temple, since they were never made in the fronts of any other buildings ; the ancients dwelling-houses being generally flat at the top, Julius Caesar being the first whom they indulg'd to raise his Palace in this fastigious manner, as Salmasius tells us in Solin. I need not add, that the die of a pedestal, and other flat and naked parts in out-side work and pannels of wainscot, is sometimes call'd tympana, since it may be to better purpose, to give some direc- tions about the proportion and accessaries belonging to it, it being *much disputed ; Vitruvius allowing neither of dentelli, or modlllion, but a simple cornice onely ; tho' we find them both very ornamentally applied ; some aflFecting to place them according to the slope, others perpendicular to the horizon, and not to the cornice which they seem to support, as well as beautifie ; or rather to the posture of the rafter ends, which they represent. We sometimes find dentelli under the modillion, but by none approv'd ; a single row of teeth, or a plain list only, more becoming on those occasions, as well as for the height of the drum or tympan (by which some distinguish the round from the pointed, which they name frontons,) which some noble statue or bass relieve may require a more than ordinary elevation of. In the mean time, D' Aviler's figure following may give some direction to workmen. Divide the line a h (which suppose the hypothenuse of the base} into two equal parts at the point c, let down the perpendicular /"e d indefi- nite, in which e (/ being equal to a b from d as the centre, describe the arch a e h, and where it intersects the perpendicular, as at e, there shall be the J'astigium or point of the tympane. There are other methods in Serlio, and the masters : some isocele, whose angles opposite to the base are more obtuse ; others yet lower, 416 and higher even to a full diameter, as were those Pliny call'd plastcs for statues and taller figures, as also at the cima or point, and at each angle there stood of those smaller pedestals we spake of for the placing of statues, busts, urnes, lamps of fire, pine cones, bowles, or the like ornaments, and these stylobata were call'd jlcroteria, from axpoi/ summa pars ; we may properly name them pin- acles, for so pinncB and battlements were made sometimes more sharp, towring, or spiry, as pleased the workman. Where they stood in ranges (as not unfrequently), with rail and balausters upon flat buildings, they still retain'd their name, with this only difference, that such as were plac'd between the angular points were (like ranges of pillars) styl'd the medium or middle acroteria : for the most part a small die without any base, in proportion somewhat less than the breadth of the neck of the column (if there stand any directly under it), and equal in height to the middle of the middle tympane and that at the very fast igitcm may be allow'd an eighth part more. They did likewise cover (especially temples, and such magnificent and sacred buildings) with a cupola, which is that dome or hemisphe- rical concave made in resemblance of the heavens, and admitting the light at the top centre or navil only, without any lantern, as is to be seen in that incomparable piece of the Pantheon yet extant : this is much in vogue yet in Italy, and of late in France, especially at Rome and Florence, but it is commonly with the lantern and other apertures to let in day without exposure to the weather, as appears by that on the summit of Saint Peters ; but it takes away, in my poor judgment, something from the solemness and natural resemblance of the other, which yet are happly better to be endur'd in the more eastern countries where the weather is constant ; as we see it practic'd in what the pious Helena erected in the Holy Land, and her son Constantine the Great, or rather, that at present, by the Emperor Justinian, (one Anthemius of Trales, and Isador the Miletan being the Architects,) upon that magni- ficent structure of Santa Sophia yet remaining at Constantinople, and to this day imitated by the Turks for the covering of their Mosques • and that it was an oriental covering and invention, the QoXos of the 417 Greeks was doubtless deriv'd from the Hebrew "''nhpi thala, signifying to suspend or hang as It were in the air; but the ItaHan name seems to come from cuppa a evue or great washing-bowl, which it much resem- bles. As to the name dome, whether from the Greek S^jj-oc, a covering, as Du Cange, or as Vosslus, clomus, I am not concern'd (but when they call it dome. It ever signifies the cathedral) ; 'tis commonly erected over the middle of the building where the isles cross, and ought to be in height half the diameter of the church, meaning the cuppa only (by some nam'd the pyramis), and not the lantern or flos, by Architects so call'd, from some flower, or like ornament which was placed upon it. In the mean time, we find some of these coverings in other shapes, and multangular, not exceeding eight ; but they are nothing so graceful as the dome-spheroid : sometimes also they are made to let in greater light by a sort of lucar windows ; by which are meant those subtegu- lai'ian windows that appear in our roofs above the cornices, of which some are square with pediments, others round or oval and oxe-eyed as they term them, most accommodate to the cupola, and had need have twice and an half the height of breadth, by reason of the distance, with circular frontoons, whilst windows in upright walls ought not to be above a fifth part less wide than those beneath them, which are ever to be even with the cornices of the ceiling. Antiently, windows were open to the very floor, or only clos'd with a ballustre and raile, much safer, and as commodious altdgether to look into streets, or enjoy the prospect as our late meniana and balconies are, which jette out, and rest only upon scrolls and mutules. For reasons already mentlon'd arched vaults in cellars should have arched apertures and windows. Other accessories and ornaments are also used in buildings which I will onlv touch. Niches, quasi nidi, nests, of old concha, are a kind of Pluteus or smaller tribunals (as they are yet called in Italy) wherein statues are placed to protect them from the down right injuries of the weather, as well as for ornament to plain and simple walls : as to their regular sections (tho', as we have already noted, there be nothing determln'd) one may allow them double, half, or quarter more of their breadth, and half for the cavitle, whether circular or square ; the rest suitable to the 3 H 418 character of the main building, and proportion of the statue deslgn'd, and therefore In placing an Hercules, Commodus, or larger figure, a rustic, or Doric work and ornament would become them better than the Corinthian or Composlt delicacy; fitter for the less robust and more effeminate, whether naked as the Greek statues, or clad as were the Roman : and so in respect to situation, if low, or even to the area, or much higher, the statelier and taller figures should be plac'd in the lower niches ; the shorter over those, and their niches thrice the height of the breadth, tho' the figure exceed not that of the imposts. Square niches have a third of their largeness in depth, and twice the height : when there happens a very large peere or square (as sometimes between the windows), they should observe the proportion of the aperture both for height and breadth, with suitable decoration : but between columns or pillasters standing one upon the other, niches are not so proper, because they fill the spaces too much ; and where more than one is plac'd, the interval should be equal to their breadth ; and never to admit them at the coines of a building, as frequently we see them abroad to inshrine some Saint, that the image may be seen in several streets ; in a word, the too thick and frequent niches become no building, and are unsufferable where a cornice is broken to let them into groups and assemblies of more figures, as the action may require. The niche is to be suited, and should begin at the floor or pavement with plinth or pedestal, higher than for a standing figure, which is ever to be allow'd the first ; and if plac'd in a spacious court or garden, the pedestal should be hijrher, so as the statue may be viewed round about ; as to farther decoration, it were absurd to carve a mask, satyr's or lyon's head, as we sometimes see them upon the key-stone, least standers by take the statue for some two headed monster ; nothing more becoming it within, than the usual esculop, whether wrought in the stone, or plaster : indeed niches shew best without much ornament, columns, or pillasters, unless plac'd at the end of some long gallery, portic, vestibule of church, exchange, or courts of justice, &c. Oval niches do handsomely for busts and vases, if not set in too deep ; and therefore may be allow'd to stand on a scroll or mutule : lastly, when niches are made very much larger and higher, beginning from the pavement, they were call'd 419 Tribunals, as of old it seems applied to all high and eminent places, where the Tribunes of the people us'd to sit as judges. We have a no- ble resemblance of this in that magnificent throne described 1 Reg. 10. 19. built by Solomon, which seems to me to have been such an ample niche, in which a principal person might sit, as it were, half canopied over within the thickness of the wall. In walls likewise did they insert many noble and most exquisite sculp- tures and historical fables, half wrought up, emboss'd, and swelling, and sometimes more than half, which eminencies thev now call in Italy by the name of basse, and mezzo relievo. These were sometimes wrought in marble, as in that 'famous abacus and stylobata, yet extant, of Trajan's Pillar. Their ordinary placing was in the fronts of edifices, as is yet to be seen in divers palaces at Rome, and especially in their villas and re- tirements of pleasure, which are frequently incrusted with them, but vilely imitated in our exposed fretworks about London, to the reproach of Sculpture, especially where it pretends to figures on the out sides of our citizens houses. I well remember there was in one of the courts of Nonsuch,* several large squares of historical relieue moulded off, or wrought in stucco by no ill artist (I think Italian), which upon the de- molition of that royal fabrick, I hear, have been translated, and most ornamently plac'd by the late most Honourable Earl of Berkeley, at his delicious villa, Durdens in Surry, not far from Nonsuch, which is thus descrlb'd by Camden, (as lately publish'd by the very learn'd Mr. Gib- son,)'!' where, speaking of that kingly palace, he calls it " magnificent to so high a pitch of ostentation, as one would tiiink the whole art of Ar- chitects were crowded into this simple work :" and then as to the relieuo (which appears to have stood expos'd there ever since the reign of Henry VIII. who built the house), " so many images to the life, upon the walls thereof; so many wonders of an accomplish'd workmanship, as even vie with the remains of Roman antiquity." Indeed, this sort of decoration * "At the extremity of the town (of Epsom) stands Dwr-fians, formerly belonging to the Earl of Berkeley, and built out of the materials of Nonsuch, a palace erected by King Hen. VIII. not far from hencc, and given by K. Charles II. to the Dutchess of Cleveland, who pulled it down, and sold these materials. It is built u la Moderne: the front to the downs, and the other to the garden, are very regular and noble." — Aubrey's Nat, Hist, of Surrey, Svo. vol. ii. p. 21S. t Afterwards Bishop of London. 420 has of late been supplied by painting in fresco, and that by very able hands, especially Signior Verrio, &c. as it is frequently in Italy by the most famous masters ; which 1 wish the inclemency of our severer cli- mate were as favourable to as the work deserves. Ornaments, however gayandfinetheyappear to the eye,andarein many cases very laudable and necessary, there is yet no small judgment required, how and when to place them appositely, so as they do not rather de- tract from the beauty of the work than at all contribute to it. Now by ornament we understand whatsoever of Sculpture and Carving is not of constant use, or absolutely necessary in all members; such as frutages, festoons, chaplets, wreaths, and other coronary worSs ; frets, guilloches, modilions, mutuls, chartoches, dentelli, metops, triglyphs, ovola, pine- cones, niches, statues, busts, relievos, urns, &c. ; in a word, all sorts of mouldings. Vitruvius, under the name of ornament, reck'ning the whole entablature, in which the frieze seems to be the most proper field for decoration, as the most conspicuous place, and where, tho' the Sculptor shew'd his address and invention, the antients (who spared nothing which might accomplish the publick buildings) were not all so lavish, in over frequent and unnecessary gayities. Their temples, am- phitheatres, circus's, courts of justice, fora, ports and entries of cities, prisons, bridges, basilica, royal palaces and other buildings of state, were grave and solid structures, void of those little membrets, trifling mouldings, and superfluous carvings, which take away from that majestic and grand maniere that most becomes them ; reserving those richer accessories and costly finishings for theatres, triumphal arches, historical columns, and other ostentatious pomps : nor even in these did they use them profusely, but with great judgment, symbolical to the subject and occasion. And therefore those antient ornaments would not suit so properly with the ages since, and may I conceive lawfully be chang'd, without presumption or Injury to any essential member ; as if (for instance) instead of sphinxes and grifl'ons plac'd before the Pagan Temples (guardians of treasure which was kept in those sacred build- ings), angels should be set before our churches ; and in the Doric friezes, instead of ox-sculls, the priests secespita, guttce, aceri'a, sim- pula, and other sacrificing utensils, we chang'd them in our churches 421 (where that order best beseems them) into cherubs, flaming hearts, books laid open, the patin, chaHce, mitre, crosier, &c. The frontons of maga- zines and public munitions had the sculps of antique casks, targets, battle-axes, thunderbolts, the battering ram, catapults, &c. which we may answer with our modern artillery of cannon, bombs, mortars, drums, trumpets, and other warlike engines ; and to their rostra, rudders, anchors, tridents, scalops, &c, the wonder-working nautlc-box, with whatever else of useful and conspicuous has improv'd our navigation. The tympan before courts of justice may become her statue, sitting on a cube, with fasces, axes, and other emblems of magistracy. Thermoe were adorn'd with jarrs, ampullae, strigils in the friezes ; the Mausolea, urns, lamps, and smoaking tapers ; Hippodroms, Circus's, had the statues of horses on the fronts, metae, obolises, &c. The publlck Fountains were seldom without the river-gods. Nymphs, Naldes, Tritons, Hipoppotoms, Crocodiles, &c. Theatres were set out with mascara, satyrs heads, Mercury's caduceus, the statues of Apollo, Pegasus, the Muses, little Cupids, and Genii, laureat busts, &c. Arches triumphal with relievo of the conqueror's expedition, trophies, spolles and harness, palms and crowns. And where lables for inscriptions were Inserted to continue, or but only for a shorter time, as to celebrate some solemn entrie, a Princes coronation, royal nuptials, adorn'd with devises, and compartments for pomp and show, the contrivance was under the direction of the archi- tectus scenicus, and requlr'd a particular talent and address, poetic and inventive. In sum, all ornaments and decorations in general should be agreeable to the subject, with due and just regard to the order, which the antients religiously observ'd ; tho' where (as we said) it was not absolutely essential, leaving out or putting in as they thought conve- nient ; for excepting the dress and tire of the Ionic, Corinthian, and Composlta capitals, they were not obliged to charge the other members with costly ornaments ; so as they frequently left out the metors and trlglyph in the friezes of the first (as we have already noted), the den- telli, ovolo, and quarter round, in the grand cornice of the latter, plain and without carving; neither did they often fill the pedestals with relieuo, nor the staves in the flutings ; and rarely ever allow the corona any en- richment at all, or so much as rounded ; and were free to leave the Doric 422 plancere naked, or with simple guttae only. They were careful not to multiply larger mouldings, which sometimes they alter'd, and now and then would separate them with a smaller list or simple fillet ; some- times using the carved astragal, and at another the plain; always leaving the list of the superior cornice flat, to shew us that the safest rule to go by is to follow the character of each respective order ; and indeed how oddly would the Tuscan or Doric become the Corinthian coifure, or the spruce and florid Corinthian a Tuscan entablature. The same is to be considered in the key-stone of arches ; plain in the Tuscan and Doric, with a moderate projecture. The Ionic scroll, serving as a prothyrides, on such occasions may be richly flower'd and carv'd in a Corinthian or Composit entrance, and where they support tables and mensulce for some inscription. Roses, lyons-heads, escalops, and other decorations, are allowable under the corona with this rule, that whether here, or un- der any roof or cieling interlacing fretts, be ever made as right angles. Lastly, as to jjocUcb, rails and balusters, so to humour the order, that the Tuscan be plain, but not too gouty, or too close to one another, or far assunder, that is, not exceeding twice the diameter of the necks; nor are they oblig'd to a constant shape, for some swell below, others above, and some are made like termes, all of them having their peculiar grace and begiuty. What is said of Tuscan, Is to be understood of the rest; so as the Corinthian and Composita may be carv'd and enrich'd without any scrupule, for any thing that appears to the contrary among the antients, or our ablest masters. To conclude, not only the roofs of houses and their fronts had their adornments, but the floors also were inlaid with pavements of the most precious materials, as of several coloured stones and woods, and this they call'd Emblema, continued to this day by the Italians in their Pietra Co- messa; of which the most magnificent and stupendious chappel of Saint Laurence at Florence, Paul the First at Sancta Maria Maggiore in Rome, are particular and amazing instances, where not only the pave- ment, but likewise all the walls, are most richly incrusted with all sorts of precious marbles, serpentine, porphirle, ophitis, achat, rants, coral, cornelian, lazuli, &c. of which one may number nearly thirty sorts, cut and laid Into a fonds or ground of black-marble, (as our Cabinet-makers 423 do their variegated woods,) in the shape of birds, flowers, landsklps, grotesks, and other compartiments most admirably polished, a glorious and everlasting magnificence. But where it is made of lesser stones, or rather morsels of them, assisted with small squares of thick glass, of which some are gilded or cemented in the stuc or plaster, it is call'd Mosaic- work, opus musivum, and it does naturally represent the most curious and accurate sort of painting, even to the life, nor less durable than the former, as is most conspicuous in that front of St. Mark's Church at Venice, the nave or ship of Giotto under the cupola of Saint Peter's at Rome, and the altar-piece of Saint Michael near it. These are the tesselata and vermiculata, or pavimenta osarota of the antients, which no age or exposure impairs, but of which I do not remember to have seen any publick work in our country. In the mean time, not to be forgotten are the floorings of wood which her Majesty the Queen Mo- ther has first brought into use in England at her Palace of Somerset- House, the like whereof I directed to be made in a bed-chamber at Ber- keley-House. The French call it pai'quetage, a kind of segmentatum opics, and which has some resemblance to these magnificencies, because it is exceeding beautiful, and very lasting. And this puts me in mind of that most useful Appendix joyn'd to Mr. Richards' late Translation of the first Book of Palladio, and those other Pieces of La Muet the French Architect, wherein, besides what he has publish'd concerning these kinds of timber-floors, &c. you have at the conclusion of that Treatise a most accurate account of their contignations and timberings of all sorts of stories, roofings, and other erections, with their use, scantlings, and proper names, which, for being so perspicuously describ'd, deserves our commendation and encouragement. May this then suffice, not only for the interpretation of the terms af- fected to this noble art, but to justifie the title, and in some measure also for the instruction and aid of divers builders, on some occasions wherein they not seldom fail ; especially in the country (where, for the saving a little charge, they seldom consult an experienc'd Artist, besides the neighbour Brick-layer and Carpenter,) till some more dextrous and able hand, and at greater leisure, oblige the publick and our countrymen 424 -with such a body and course of Architecture, as with others, Monsieur Blondel, D'Avilar and, instar omnium, the learned Perrault (by his version and us^ul comments on Vitruvius), have done for theirs. Eum Architectum oportet usu esse peritum & solerteni, (|ui demere '^^S^ aut adjicere praescriptisvelit. J. E. KALENDARIUM HORTENSE CJe (^arti'iier's 9llmanack; DIRECTING WHAT HE IS TO DO MONTHLY THROUGHOUT THE YEAR i AND WHAT FRUITS AND FLOWERS ARE IN PRIME. By JOHN EVELYN, Esq. FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY. — — Labor actus in orbem. Virg. Geor. i. Satis admirari nequeo, quod prime scriptorum meorura exordio jure conquestus sum : Cteterarum Artiinn minus vitee necessariarura repertos Antistites, AgriculturcB neq. Discipulos, neq. Prseceptores inventos. CoLUMELL. Lib. ix. cap. 1. LONDON: PRINTED rOK JOHN MARTYN, PRINTER TO THE ROYAL SOCIETY, \t)6-i . TENTH EDITION : I'KINTED FOR ROB. SCOT, RIC. CHISWELL, GEORGE SAWBRIDGE, AND BEN. TOOKE. 1706. 3 I 427 This Tract originally appeared In 8vo. in 1664. A second edition, with many useful additions, was printed in 1666, dedicated to Evelyn's " worthy friend " Abraham Cowley. Several additions were likewise added to the " Sylva," in folio ; it was again reprinted in octavo in 1699 ; and for the tenth time in 1/06, in 12mo. In a letter to Lady Sunder- land, dated 4th August, 1690, the Author says, " As for the Kalendar your Ladyship mentions, whatever assistance it may be to some novice gardener, sure I am his Lp will find nothing in it worth his notice but an old inclination to an innocent diversion, and the acceptance it found with my deare and (while he lived) worthy friend Mr. Cowley, upon whose reputation only it has survived seaven Impressions, and is now entering the eighth, with some considerable improvements, more agreeable to the present curiosity. 'Tls now, Mad'"^, almost fourty yeares since first I writ it, when Horticulture was not much advanc'd in England, and neere thirty since first 'twas publlsh'd, which consideration will, I hope, excuse its many defects." The Kaleyidarium Hortense cannot fail of being highly interesting to the Horticulturist, since it is the foundation on which all our best books on Gardenmg have been erected ; and no better plan can be adopted for the amateur gardener, than that of giving directions under the head of each month. It is also valuable, as forming a Catalogue of the Fruits and Flowers, as well as the Culinary Vegetables, of the day in which the Author lived. 429 TO ABRAHAM COWLEY, Esq. Sir, This Hortulan Kalendar is yours, mindful of the honour once con- ferr'd on it, when you were pleas'd to suspend your nobler raptures, and think it worthy your transcribing. It appears now with some advan- tages which it then wanted ; because it had not that of publishing to the world, how infinitely I magnifie your contempt of (not to say re- venge upon) it; whilst you still continue in the possession of your self, and of that repose which few men understand, in exchange for those pretty miseries you have essay 'd. () the sweet evenings and mornings, and all the day besides which are yours ! • • • • while Cowley's made The happy tenant of the shade ! And the sun in his garden gives him all he desires, and all that he would enjoy ; the purity of visible objects and of true Nature, before she was vitiated by imposture or luxury ! .... Books, wise discourse, gardens and fields. And all the joys that unmixt Nature yields. Misc. You gather the first roses of the spring, and apples of autumn ; and as the philosopher in Seneca desir'd only bread and herbs to dispute felicity with Jupiter, you vie happiness in a thousand easy and sweet diver- sions ; not forgetting the innocent toils which you cultivate, the lei- sure and the liberty, the books, the meditations, and, above all, the learned and choice friendships that you enjoy. Who would not, like you, cacher sa vie ? 'Twas the wise impress of Balzac, and of Plutarch before him ; you give it lustre and interpretation. I assure you. Sir, it is what in the world 1 most inwardly breathe after and pursue, not to say that I envy your felicity, deliver'd from the gilded impertinences of life, to enjoy the moments of a solid and pure contentment ; since those who know how usefully you employ this glorious recess, must needs be forced either to imitate, or, as I do, to celebrate your example. J. Evelyn. 430 INTRODUCTION TO THE KALENDAR. As Paradise (though of God's own plantuig) was no longer Para- dise, than the man put into It continued to dress It and to keep It*, so, nor will our Gardens (as near as we can contrive them to the resemblance of that blessed abode) remain long in their perfection, unless they are also continually cultivated. For when we have so much celebrated the life and felicity of an excellent Gard'ner, as to think it preferable to all other diversions whatsoever ; it is not because of the leisure which he enjoys above other men ; ease and opportunity which ministers to vain and Insignificant delights ; such as fools derive from sensual objects : we dare boldlv pronounce it, there is not amongst men a more labori- ous life than is that of a good Gard'ner ; but because a labour full of tranquillity and satisfaction, natural and instructive, and such as (if any) contributes to piety and contemplation, experience, health, and longevity, munera nondum intellecta Deiini : in sum, a condition it is, furnished with the most innocent, laudable, and purest of earthly felici- ties, and such as does certainly make the nearest approaches to that blessed state, where only they enjoy all things without pains ; so as those who were led only by the light of nature, because they could fancy none more glorious, thought it worthy of entertaining the souls of their departed heroes, and most illustrious of mortals. But to return to the labour, because there is nothing excellent which is to be attained without it. A Gard'ners work is never at an end ; it begins with the year, and continues to the next : he prepares the ground, and then he sows it ; after that he plants, and then he gathers the fruits ; but in all the intermedial spaces he is careful to dress it ; so as * Gen. c. ii. 15. 431 Columella, speaking of this continual assiduity, tells us*, " A Gard'ner is not only to reckon upon the loss of bare twelve hours, hut of an whole year, unless he perform what is at the present requisite in its due period; and therefore is such a monthly notice of his task as depends upon the signs and seasons highly necessary -f-." Gard'ners had need each star as well to know, . / The Kid, the Dragon, and Arcturus too, , ' ^^ C/^ As seamen, who through dismal storms are wont ^ To pass the oyster-breeding Hellespont ;{:. All which duly weighed, how precious the time is, how precipitous the occasion, how many things to he done in their just season, and how intolerable a confusion will succeed the smallest neglect, after once a ground is in order, we thought we should not attempt an unacceptable work, if here we endeavour to present our Gard'ners with a compleat cycle of what is requisite to be done throughout every month of the year : we say each month, because by dividing it into parts so dis- * PrEetermissas duodecim horas, sed annum periisse, nisi sua quaque quod instat effecerit : quare necessaria est menstrui cuj usque officii monitio ea quae pendet ex ratione Syderum CceH, &c. Columella de Re Rust. 1. ix. t This observation, which may appear like superstition to us who reside in an irregular climate, is highly necessary to the inhabitants of more settled skies, where the rains generally set in or the sun shines with greater force at stated seasons, which are marked by astronomical observations : " Beneath what star fair flow'rs first shew their heads." The directions which Columella gave to the Romans of his own day, are equally applicable to the Italians of the present age. ■' Now, when the thirsty Dog-star shall have drank Full draughts of Ocean's streams ; and when his orb With equal hours bright Titan shall have pois'd. And Autumn, glutted with all sorts of fruit. Shaking his hoary head, with apples deck'd. And all his garments wet and stain'd with must. Shall from ripe grapes the foaming liquor squeeze ; Then let the lowly ground, with strength of spades Well arm'd with iron, be turned upside down." — Book X. X " tam sunt Arcturi sidera nobis Haedoriimque dies servandi, et lucidus Anguis, Quam quibus in patriam ventosa per aequora vectis Pontus, et Ostriferi fauces tentantur Abydi." — Geor. I. '^ 432 tinct, the order in which they shall find each particular to be disposed may not only render the work more facile and delightful, but redeem it from that extreme perplexity, which, for want of a constant and uniform method, we find does so universally distract the vulgar sort of them : they know not (for the most part) the seasons when things are to be done * ; and when at any time they come to know, there often falls out so many things to be done on the sudden, that some of them must of necessity be neglected for that whole year, which is the greatest detri- ment to this mystery, and frequently irrecoverable. We are yet far from imposing (by any- thing we have here alledged concerning these menstrual periods) those nice and hypercritical punc- tilios which some astrologers, and such as pursue their rules, seem to oblige our Gard'ners to ; as if, forsooth, all were lost, and our pains to no purpose, unless the sowing and the planting, the cutting and the pruning, were performed in such and such an exact minute of the moon : In hac autem ruris discipUna non desideratur ejusmodi scrupu- lositasf. There are indeed some certain seasons, and suspecta tempora, which the prudent Gard'ner ought carefully (as much as in him lies) to prevent : but as to the rest, let it suffice, that he diligently follow the observations which (by great industry) we have collected together, and here present him, as so many Synoptical Tables, calculated for his monthly use, to the end he may pretermit nothing which is under his inspection, and is necessary, or distract his thoughts and employment before the seasons require It. And now, however this may seem but a trifle to some who esteem books by the bulk, not the benefit ; let them forbear yet to despise these few ensuing pages, for never was any thing of this pretence more fully and ingenuously imparted, 1 shall not say to the regret of all our mercenary Gard'ners, because I have much obligation to some above that epithete : Mr. Rose "l, Gard'ner to his Majesty, and lately at Essex- * Quia caput est in omni negotio, nosse quid agendum sit, &c. Columella de Re Rust. 1. i. c. 1. f Columella. \ Mr. Rose raised the first pine-apple that was grown in England. In a picture at Kensington Palace he is represented presenting a pine-apple to King Charles ; and the Earl of Waldegrave has a similar picture at Strawberry-hill, Twickenham, which is supposed to have been painted by Daneker. A print in the line manner has recently been engraven from the former picture by Mr. Graves. 433 house to her Grace the Duchess of Somerset ; and Mr. Turner*, formerly of Wimbledon in Surry, who, being certainly amongst the most expert of their profession in England, are no less to be celebrated for their free communications to the publick, by divers observations of theirs, which have furnished to this design. And it is from the result of very much experience, and an extraordinary inclination to cherish so innocent and laudable a diversion, and to incite an affection in the Nobles of this nation towards it, that I begin to open to them so many of the interior secrets, and most precious rules of this mysterious art, without impos- ture, or invidious reserve. The very Catalogue of Fruits and Flowers, for the Orchard and the Parterre, will gratifie the most innocent of the senses, and whoever else shall be to seek a rare and universal choice for his plantation. Touching the method, it is so obvious, that there needs no farther direction ; and the consequent will prove so certain, that a work of the busiest pains is by this little instrument rendered the most facile and agreeable, as by which you shall continually preserve your Garden in that perfection of beauty and lustre, without confusion or prejudice ; nor indeed could we think of a more comprehensive expedient, whereby to assist the frail and torpent memory through so multifarious and nume- rous an employment (the daily subject of a Gard'ners care), than by the economy and discipline which we have here consigned it to, and which our industrious Gard'ner may himself be continually improving from his own observations and experience. In the mean time, we have, at the instance of very many persons, who have been pleased to acknow- ledge the effects of a former less perfect impression, thought good to publish an Edition in a smaller volume, that as an Enchiridion it may be the more ready and useful ; but the Kalendar might be considerably augmented, and recommend itself to more universal use, by taking in * Mr. Turner was an apothecary in London, and Herbarist to James the First and Charles the First. His work, entitled " Paridisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris," was dedicated to Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles the First, in the year 1629. In 1640 Parkinson published his "Thea- trum Botanicum," a valuable work. It appears that Parkinson had the sujierintendence of the Royal Gardens at Wimbledon, which were broken up and sold by order of the Parliament in 1649. 3 K 434 the monthly employments of all the parts of agriculture, as they have been begun to us in Columella, * Palladius, de Serres, Augustino Gallo, VIncenzo Tanara, Herrera, our Tusserf , Markham, and others ; espe- cially if well and judiciously applied to the climate and several countries. But it were here besides our institution, nor would the pages contain them ; what is yet found vacant has been purposely left, that our Gard'- ner may supply as he finds cause ; for which reason likewise we have rang'd both the Fruits and Flowers in prime after somewhat a promiscuous order ; and not after the letters of the alphabet, that the method might be pursued with the least disorder. Lastly, The Fruits and Flowers in prime are to be as well considered in rela- tion to their lasting and continuance, as to their maturity and beauty. J. Evelyn. *^* The references to the " Discourse on Earth," are only to be found in the Third Editionjblio, printed with " Sylva" and " Pomona," ^c. 1706. * Col. de R. R. lib. 11, c. 11. Pall. lib. 1. Tit. 1. t Tusser's " Five Hundred points of good Husbandry," which was first published in the year 1557, may still be perused with benefit to the reader, being full of useful hints, as well as forming an interesting picture of the agricultural progress of those days. 435 THE GARDEN.* To John Evelyn, Esq. I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetuousness as y' one, w"^'' I have had always, y' I might bee master at last, of a small Hous and larg Garden, w*'' very moderat conveniences joyned to them, and there dedicat the remainder of my life, onely to the culture of them, & study of Nature, And there, with no design beyond my wall, Whole, and entire to lye, In no unactive Eas, and no unglorious Poverty Or, as Virgil has said, shorter and better for mee that I might there studiis Jlorere ignobilis otti, (though I could wish, meethinks, y' he had rather said, nohilis otii, when hee spoke of his own,) but severall accidents of my ill fortune have disappointed mee hitherto, and still do, of y' faelicitie ; for though I have made the first and hardest step to it, by abandonning all ambitions and hopes in this world, and by retiring from the nois of all busines, and almost company, yet I stick still in the Inne of a hired Hous and Garden, amoung weeds and rubbish ; and w*''out y* pleasantest work of human industry, y*^ improvement of some- thing w'^'' wee call (not very properly, but yet wee call) our own. I am gon out from Sodom, but I am not arrived yet at my little Zoar. Oh let mee escape thither, (is it not a little one ?) and my Soul shall live. I do not look back yet, but I have ben forced to stop and make too many halts. You may wonder, Sir, (for this seems a little too extra- vagant and Pindarical for prose) what I mean by all this preface ; it is to let you know, y* though I have mist, like a chymist, my main end, yet I account my affections and endeavours well rewai'ded by something w'^'' I have gotten by y*^ by, w^*" is, that they have procured to mee some part in y'' kindnes and esteem, and thereby the honour of haveing my name so advantageously recommended to posterity by y*^ Epistle you * Carefully corrected by the original manuscript in the hand-writing of Abraham Cowley, now in the possession of W. Upcott, and to whom it was kindly presented by the late Lady Evelyn. 436 are pleased to prefix to the most usefull book y' has ben written of y' kind, and w'''' is to last as long as Months and Years. Cum Sole et Lund Tu quoq; semper eris. Amoving many other arts and excellencies w""'' you enioy, 1 am glad to find this favourite of mine the most pr^edominant ; that you choos this for y"" Wife though you have, like Solomon, hundreds of other arts for your Concubines. Though you know them, and beget sonnes upon them all ('to w'^'' you are rich enough to allow great legacies) yet the Issue of this seems to bee designed by you to y* main of the estate : You have taken most pleasure in it, and bestowed most charges upon its education ; and I doubt not to see y* Book, w*^'' you are pleased to promise to the world, and of w'^'' you have given us a larg earnest in y' Calendar, as accomplished as any thing can bee expected from an extra- ordinary Witt, and no ordinary expences, and a long experience. I know no body y' possesses more private happines then you do in y"" Garden, and yet no man who makes his happines more publique by a free communication of y^ art and knowledg of it to others. All w'^^ I myself am able yet to do, is onely to recommend to mankind the search of y' fselicity w'''' you instruct them how to find and to enjoy. I. Happy art Thou whom God does bless ■y^rth ye fy]! choice of thine own happiness ! And happier yet, becaus thou'rt blest \V* prudence how to choos the best ! In Books and Gardens thou hast plac'd aright (Things w'^'' thou well dost understand. And both dost make w*'' thy laborious hand) Thy noble, innocent delight : And in thy virtuous Wife, where thou again dost meet Both pleasures more refin'd and sweet : The fairest garden in her looks. And in her mind the wisest books. Oh who would change theis soft, yet solid joys. For empty shows and senceless noise. And all w*^*^ rank Ambition breeds, W'=*' seem such beauteous flowers, and are such poisonous weeds ? 437 II. When God did Man to his own likenes make, As much as Clay, though of the purest kind. By the great Potters art refin'd, Could the Divine impression take : Hee thought it fit to place him where A kind of Heaven too did appear. As far as Earth could such a likenes bear : That man no happines might want, W"^'' earth to her first master could afford ; He did a garden for him plant By y^ quick hand of his omnipotent word. As y* cheif help and joy of human life, Hee gave him y* first gift, first, even before a Wife. III. For God, the universale Architect, 'T had ben as easy to erect A Louvre, or Escuriall, or a Tower That might with Heaven communication hold. As Babel vainly thought to do of old : Hee wanted not the skill or power. In the world's fabrick those were shown. And the materials were all his own. But well hee knew what place would best agree With innocence and with faelicitie : And wee elsewhere still seek for them in vain. If any part of ether still remain ; If any part of ether wee expect. This may our judgment in y^ search direct ; God the first garden made, and the first city, Cain. IV. Oh blessed shades ! oh, gentle cool retreat. From all th' immoderat heat In w'='' the frantick world does burn and sweat ! This, does y ' Lion-star, Ambitions rage ; This Avarice, the dog-stars thirst assuage ; Every where els their fatall power wee see. They make and rule mans wretched destinie : They nether set, nor disappear, But tyrannize ore all y^ year ; Whil'st wee ne're feel their flame or influence here. 438 The birds y* dance from bough to bough. And sing above in every tree, Are not from fears and cares more free Then wee who ly, or sit, or walk below, And should by right bee singers too. What princes quire of musick can excel (That w^^ w*^in this shade does dwel ? For w"^ wee nothing pay or give, They like all other poets live Without reward or thanks for their obliging pains ; 'Tis well if they become not prey ) : The whistling winds add their less artfull straines, And a grave base the murmuring fountains play ; Nature does all this harmony bestow, But to our plants, arts, musick too. The pipe, theorbo, and guitarr wee owe ; The lute itself, W^^* once was green and mute. When Orpheus strook th' inspired lute. The trees danc'd round, and understood By sympathy the voice of wood. V. Theis are the spels w"^ to kind sleep invite, And nothing does within resistance make : \ych ygt y^QQ moderately take ; W^ho would not choos to bee awake, Wliile hee's encompasst round with such delight, To th' ear, the nose, the touch, the tast, and sight ? When Venus would her dear Ascanius keep A pris'oner in the downy bands of sleep, She odorous herbs and flowers about him spred, As the most soft and sweetest bed ; Not her own lap would more have charm'd his head. Who y* has reason, and his smel. Would not amoungst roses and jasmin dwel. Rather then all his spirits choak With exhalations of dirt and smoak ? And all th' uncleannes which does drown In pestilentiall clowds a populous town ? 439 The earth it self breaths better perfumes here. Then all the female men or women there, (Not without cause 'tis thought) about them bear. VI. When Epicurus to the world had taught That pleasure was the chiefest good, (And was perhaps i'th'right, if rightly understood,) His life hee to his doctrine brought, And in a gardens shade y* sovereign pleasure sought. Whoever a true Epicure would bee, May there find cheap and virtuous luxurie. Vitellius his Table, w'^'' did hold As many creatures as the Ark of old, That Fiscal Table, to w'^'' every day All countries did a constant Tribute pay. Could nothing more delicious afFoord, Then Natures liberality, Helpt by a little art and industry. Allows the meanest gard'ners board. The wanton tast no fish or fowl can choos. For w'^'' the grape or melon shee would loos. Though all th' inhabitants of sea and air Bee listed in the gluttons bill of fare ; Yet still the fruits of earth wee see Plac'd the third story high in all his luxurie. VII. But with no sense the garden does comply 5 None courts or flatters, as it does the eye : When the great Hebrew King did almost strain The wound'rous treasures of his wealth and brain, His royal southern guest to entertain ; Though shee on silver floores did tread, With bright Assyrian carpets on them spred. To hide the metals poverty : Though shee lookt up to roofs of gold, And nought around her could behold But silk, and rich embrodery, And Babylonian tapestry, 440 And wealthy Hirams princely dye , Though Ophirs starry stones met every where her eye ; Though shee herself, and her gay host were drest In all the shining glories of the east ; When lavish art her costly work had done. The honour and the prize of bravery. Was by y'' garden from y'^ palace wonne ; And every rose and lilly there did stand Better attir'd by Natures hand : The case thus judg'd against the king wee see. By one who not bee so rich, though wiser far than hee. VIII. Nor does this bappy place onely dispense Such various pleasures to the sense ; Here health it self does live, That salt of life which does to all a relish give ; Its standing pleasure, and intrinsick wealth, The bodies virtu, and the souls good fortune, health. The tree of life when it in Eden stood, Did its immortal head to heaven rear ; It lasted a tall cedar till the flood ; Now a small thorny shrub it does appear ; Nor will it thrive too every where : It here is always freshest seen ; 'Tis only here an ever-green. If through the strong and beauteous fence Of temperance and innocence, And wholesome labours, and a quiet mind, Any diseases passage find, They must not think here to assail A land unarmed or without a guard ; They must fight for it, and dispute it hard. Before they can prevail : Scarce any plant is growing here Which against Death some weapon does not bear. Let cities boast y' they provide For life the ornaments of pride ; But 'tis the Garden and y*' Feild, That furnish it with staff and sheild. 441 IX. Where do y« wisdome and y^ power divine In a more bright and sweet reflextion shine ? Where do wee finer strokes and colours see Of the Creators real poetrie, Then when wee w**" attention look Upon y^ third days volume of the book ? If wee could open and intend our eye, We all, like Moses, should espy Ev'n in a bush the radiant Deity. But wee despise theis his inferior ways, (Though no less full of miracle and praise) Upon y« flowers of heaven wee gaze ; The stars of earth no wonder in us raise, Though theis perhaps do more then they, The life of mankind sway. Although no part of mighty nature bee More stored with beauty, power, and mysterie ; Yet to encourage human Industrie, God has so ordered y* no other part Such space and such dominion leaves for Art. X. Wee no where Art do so triumphant see^ As when it grafts or buds the tree ; In other things wee count it to excell, If it a docile scholar can appear To Nature, and but imitate her well ; It over-rules, and is her master here. It imitates her makers power divine, And changes her sometimes, and sometimes does refine It does, like grace, the fallen tree restore To its blest state of Paradise before : Who would not joy to see his conquering hand Oe'r all the vegetable world command? And the wild gyants of the wood receive What law hee's pleas'd to give ? 3l 442 Hee bids th' ill-natiir'd crab produce The gentler apples winy juice ; The golden fruit y* worthy is Of Galatea's purple kiss ; Hee does the savage hawthorn teach To bear the Medlar and y^ Pear ; Hee bids the rustique Plum to rear A nobler trunck, and bee a Peach, Even Daphnes coyness hee does mock, And weds the Cherry to her stock ; Though shee refus'd Apollos suit ; Ev'n she, the chast and virgin tree, Now wonders at her self, to see That shee's a mother made, and blushes in her fruit. XI. Meethinks I see great Dioclesian walk In the Salonian gardens noble shade, Wch \yy j^js Q^n Imperial hands was made : I see him smile, meethinks, as hee does talk W* the Ambassadours who come in vain T'entice him to a throne again : If I, my friends (said hee) should to you show All the contents which in this garden grow, 'Tis likelier much y* you should with mee stay, Then 'tis y' you should carry mee away : And trust mee not, my friends, if every day, I walk not here with more delight. Than ever, after the most happy fight. In triumph to the Capitol I rod. To thank y* Gods, and to bee thought, my self almost a God. A. Cowley. Chertsea, Aug. l6 1666. KALENDARIUM HORTENSE. - JANUARY Hath xxxi days — long, Sh 0™. Sun rises S*" On» — sets 4*1 0">. * To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Trench the ground, and make it ready for the Spring : prepare also soil, and use it where you have occasion ; for which purpose make plentiful provision of neats, horse, and sheeps dung especially, that you may have some of two years preparation, by now and then stirring and opening it to the air, and lastly, screening it, reserve it for use in some hard-bottom'd shady place, a little excavated, that the rain wash not away the vertue of it : suffer no weeds to grow on it ; have some heaps of sweet under-pasture natural mould, and fine loam, to mingle with your dung, as occasion requires. Note, that the dung of pigeons and poultry, mix'd with mould, is excellent for the fig-tree (to which I now advise you to lay it), aspara- gus, strawberries, &c. but then it must have pass'd its first heat, lest, apply 'd before, it burn the plant. Horse-dung, if not exceedingly rotted, will infect the ground with knot-grass, the very worst of garden-weeds ; and is therefore onlv proper for moist and cold grounds, and to be us'd for the hot-bed. Abricots and peaches require rather a natural, rich, and mellow soil, than much dung. Dress your sweet-herb beds rather with a new moulding every second vear, than with over-dunging or rank soil. * For the rising and setting of the sun, and length of the days, I compute from the first of every month, London lat. 444 Mould made of the rotting of weeds, &c. Is apt to produce the same weeds *. Dig borders, &c. Uncover, as yet, roots of trees, where ablaquea- tion Is requisite -j". Plant quick-sets, and transplant fruit-trees, if not finish'd : set vines J, and begin to prune the old : prune the branches of orchard fruit-trees, especiallv the long planted, and that towards the decrease; but for such as are newly planted, they need not be disbranched till the sap begins to stir, that is, not till March ; that so the wound may be healed, with the scar, and stub, which our frosts do frequently leave : besides, one then best discerns the fruit-buds. In this work cut oflp all the shoot of August, unless the nakedness of the place incline you to spare it: consult my French Gard'ner, Part I. Sect. 3 §. For this is a most material address, towards which these short directions may contribute. Learn first to know and distinguish the bearing and fruit-buds from the leaf-buds : the fruit-buds are always fuller and more turgid : these you are carefully to spare, and what you prune from the rest cut off slanting above the bud, with a very sharp knife, leaving no rags. In taking off a whole branch, or limb, cut close to the stem, that the bark may cover it the sooner. Those buds which either put forth just between the stem and wall (in mural-trees only), or opposite to them, are to be rubbed off as soon as they appear, sparing only the collateral branches. Keep your wall and palisade-trees from mounting too hastily, that they may form beautiful and spreading branches, shap'd like a ladles fann, and close to the ground. Take the water-boughs quite away, which are those that on standards being shaded, and drip'd upon, remain smooth and naked without buds. Where you desire mural fruit-trees should spread, garnish, and bear, cut smoothly off the next unbearlng branch. * Vide " Discourse of Eartli," p. 21. -j- See the Directions in my Treatise of Earth, p. 14, folio edit. X See Mr. Rose's Vineyard vindicated, c. v. § " Pomona," c. 8. 445 Forbear pruning wall-fruit that is tender, till February. Where branches are so thick and intangl'd that they gall one an- other, or exclude the sun and air, thin the place at discretion. You may now begin to nail and trim your wall-fruit and espaliers. Cleanse trees of moss, &c. the weather moist. Gather cyons for graffs before the buds sprout ; and about the latter end graff them in the stock, pears, cherries, and plums; and remember this for a special rule, that you always take the cyon from some goodly and plentifully bearing tree : for if it be from a young tree, or one which has not yet born fruit (tho' of never so excellent a kind), it will be a long time e'er your graff produce any fruits considerable. Now also remove your kernel-stocks to more commodious distances in your nursery, cutting off the top root*. Set beans, pease, &c. Sow also (if you please) for early cauly-flowers. Sow chervil -f-, lettuce, radish, and other (more delicate) salletings, if you will raise in the hot-bed. In over-wet, or hard weather, cleanse, mend, sharpen, and prepare garden-tools '^. Turn up your bee-hives, and sprinkle them with a little warm and sweet wort ; do it dexterously. Fruits in prime, and yet lasting. Apples. — Kentish pippin, russet pippin, golden pippin, french pippin, kirton pippin, holland pippin, john-apple, winter queening, marigold, harvey-apple, pomewater, pome-roy, golden doucet, apis, reineting, Lones pear-main, winter pear-main, &c. Pears. — Winter musk (bakes well), winter Norwich (excellently baked), winter bergamot, winter bon-crestien (both mural), vergoules, the great surrein, &c. * Vide March. t Scandix cerefolium. This plant, so celebrated by the ancients, has nearly disappeared in I he English kitchen-garden, nor is it any longer regarded in our saladf, or admitted into modern practice, although it still holds a considerable rank in all these situations on the Continent. } This is a part of the gardener's duty which has been most lamentably neglected in modern times. 446 To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Set up your traps for vermine ; especially in your nurseries of kernels and stones, and amongst your bulbous roots ; which will now be in dan- ger. A paste made of coarse honey, wherein is mingled green-glass beaten, with copperas, may be laid near their haunts. About the mid- dle of this month, plant now your anemony roots, and ranunculus's, which you will be secure of without covering, or farther trouble. Pre- serve from too great and continuing rains (if they happen), snow, and frost, your choicest anemonies and ranunculus's sow'd in September or October for earlier flowers : also your carnations, and such seeds as are in peril of being wash'd out, or over-chilled and frozen, covering them under shelter, and striking off the snow where it lies too weighty ; for it certainly rots and bursts your early-set anemonies and ranunculus's, &c. unless planted now in the hot-beds ; for now is the season, and they will flower even in London. Towards the end, earth-up with fresh and light mould the roots of those auricula's which the frost may have un- cover'd, filling up the chinks about the sides of the pots where your choicest are set, but they need not be hous'd : it is a hardy plant. Floivers in prime, or yet lasting. Winter aconite, some anemonies, winter cyclamen, black hellebor, brumal hyacinth, oriental jacinth, levantine, narcissus, hepatlca, prim- roses, laurus-tinus, mezereon, praecoce tulips, &c. especially if raised in the hot-bed. Note, That both these fruits and flowers are more early or tardy, both as to their prime seasons for eating, and perfection of blowing, according as the soil and situation are quallfy'd by nature or accident. Note also. That in this recension of monthly flowers, it is to be understood for the whole period that anv flower continues, from its first appearing to its final withering. 447 K FEBRUARY Hath xxviii days — long, ogh 24". Sun rises 7h IS"'. — Sets 041' 45m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Prune fruit-trees and vines as yet ; for now is your season to bind, plash, nail, and dress, without danger of frost : this to be understood of the most tender and delicate wall-fruit, not finish'd before ; do this be- fore the buds and bearers grow turgid ; and yet in the nectarine and like delicate mural-fruit, the later your pruning the better, whatever has been and still is the contrary custom. And let your gard'ner endeavour to apply the collateral branches of his wall-fruits, as near as possible he can (without violation and unna- tural bending and reverting) to the earth or borders ; so as the fruit (when grown) may almost touch the ground : the rest of the branches following the same order will display the tree like a ladies fan, and repress the common exuberance of the leading and middle shoots, which usually make too hasty an advance. A gard'ner expert in this and the right art of pruning, may call himself a workman sans rejiroch. Remove graffs of former years graffing. Cut and lay quick-sets ; and trim up your palisade hedges and espaliers. Plant vines as yet, other shrubs, hops, &c. Set all sorts of kernels and stony seeds, which field-mice will cer- tainly ruine before they sprout, unless prevented : also sow beans, pease, rounsevals, corn-sallet, marigold, anniseeds, radish, parsenips, carrots, onions, garlick, &c. And plant potatoes* in your worst ground. Now Is your season for circumposition by tubs or baskets of earth, and * "The potatoe first became an object of national importance in 1662-3, as appears by the recordof the Royal Society held March 18th in that year; when a letter was read from Mr. Buck- land, a Somerset gentleman, recommending the planting of potatoes in all parts of the Kingdom, to prevent famine. This was referred to a Committee, and, in consequence of their report, Mr. Buckland had the thanks of the Society : sucli members as had lands were entreated to plant them with potatoes ; and Mr. Evelyn was desired to mention the proposals at the close of his Sylva." — Phillips's Hist, of Cultivated Vegetables, vol. \\. p. 87. 448 for laying of branches to take root. You may plant forth your cab- bage-plants. Rub moss off your trees after a soaking rain, and scrape and cleanse them of cankers, &c. draining away the wet (if need require) from the too much molstned roots, and earth up those roots of your fruit-trees, if any were uncover'd. Continue to dig and manure, if weather permit. Cut off the webs of caterpillars, &c. from the tops of twigs and trees to burn. Gather worms in the evenings after rain. Kitchin-garden herbs may now be planted, as parsly, spinage, onions, leeks, and other hardy pot-herbs. Towards the middle or latter end of this month, till the sap rises briskly, graff in the cleft, and so continue till the last of March : they will hold apples, pears, cherries, plums, &c. The new moon and the old wood is best. Now also plant out your caulyflowers to have early ; and begin to make your hot-beds for the first melons and cucumbers to be sow'd in the full ; but trust not alto- gether to them. You may all this month, and the former, have early sallets on the hot-bed, and under glass frames and bells. Sow aspa- ragus. Lastly, Half open your passages for the bees, or a little before (if weather in- vite), but continue to feed weak stocks, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Kentish, kirton, russet, holland pippins; deux-ans, win- ter queening, harvy sometimes, pome-water, pome-roy, golden doucet, reineting, Lones pearmain, winter pearmain, &c. Pears. — Bon-chrestlen of winter, winter popperlng, little dago- bert, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Continue baits, vermlne-traps, &c. Sow alaternus seeds in cases, or open beds ; cover them with thorns, that the poultry scratch them not out. Sow also lark-spurs, &c. Now and then air your hous'd carnations, in warm days especially, and mild showers ; but if like to prove cold, set them in again at night. Furnish (now towards the end) your aviaries with birds before thev 449 couple, &c. and hang up materials for them to build their nests with. Note. That such birds as feed not on seeds alone should be separated by a partition of wyre from those who feed on bruised seeds, pastes, fleshy or pulpy mixtures; as the sky-lark, wood-lark, throstle, robin- redbreast, &c. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Winter aconite, single anemonies, and some double, tulips preecoce, hyacinthus, stellatus, vernal crocus, black hellebore, single hepatica, persian iris, leucoium bulbosum, dens canlnus three leav'd, vernal cy- clamen white and red, mezereon, ornithogal. max. alb. Yellow violets with large leaves, early daffodils, &c. r MARCH Hath xxxi days — long, ll'i 22"". Sunrises 6h IQ"" — sets 5^41"". To he done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Yet stercoration is seasonable, and you may plant what trees are left, tho' it be something of the latest, unless in very backward or moist places. Now is your chiefest and best time for raising on the hot-bed melons, cucumbers, gourds, &c. which about the sixth, eighth, or tenth day, will be ready for the seeds ; and eight days after prick them forth at distances, according to the Method, &c. If you will have them later, begin again in ten or twelve days after the first; and so a third time, to make experiments. Remember to preserve the hot-bed as much as possible from rain ; for cool it you may easily, if too violent, but not give it a competent heat, if it be spent, without new-making*. Now is the best time for pruning young murals, and, indeed, other wall-trees. See the reason in January. Graff all this month, beginning with pears, and ending with apples, unless the spring prove extraordinary forwards ■\. * See "Discourse of Earth," &c. f See our " Pomona," c. 3. 3 M 450 Now also plant peaches and nectarines, but cut not ofF the top-roots, as you do of other trees ; for it will much prejudice them. Prune last years graffs, and cut oflFthe heads of your budded stocks. Take off the littler from your kernel-beds (see Octob.), or you may forbear till April. Stir your new-planted ground, as directed in " Disc, of Earth," p. 14, and for the nursery, p. 15. You may as yet cut quick-sets, and cover such tree roots as you laid bare in autumn. It were profitable now also to top your rose-trees (which always bear on the fresh sprouts of the same spring) a little with your knife near a leaf-bud, and to prune off the dead and withered branches, keeping them lower than the custom is, and to a single stem. Cut away some branches of the monthly rose-tree close, after the first bearing. Slip and set sage, rosemary, lavender, thyme, &c. Note, that rosemary thrives better by cutting off the sprigs, than by ragged slips, which leaves an incurable scar on the old plant. Cut them, therefore at a little distance from the stem, and this so soon as it flowers, which is commonly in this month. Where the soil is clay, or over moist, mingle it plentifully with brick-dust. Sow in the beginning endive, succory, leeks, radish, beets, chard- beet, scorzonera, parsnips, skirrets. Sow skirrets in rich, mellow, fresh e&rth, and moist, and when about a finger long; plant but one single root in a hole, at a foot distance. Sow also parsly, sorrel, bugloss, borage, chervil, sampler (to re-plant in May), sellery, smalkige, alisanders, &c. Several of which continue many years without renew- ing, and are most of them to be blanch'd by laying them under littler, and earthing up. Sow also lettuce, onions, garllck, orack, purslain, turnips, (to have early) monthly pease, &c. these annually. Begin to tie up some lettuce. Transplant the beet-chard which you sow'd in August, to have most ample chards. Sow also carrots, cabbages, cresses, nasturtium, fennel, majoran, basil, tobacco, &c. and transplant any sort of medicinal herbs. 451 Whatsoever you now sow or plant of this sort, water not over hastily, nor with too great a stream, for it hardens the ground, without pene- trating; rather endeavour to imitate the natural shower; but snare not water if necessary. Never cast water on things newly planted, nor on flowers, but at convenient distance, so as rather to moisten the ground, without sobbing the leaves of the plant, which ends in scorching. Mid-March dress up (with a little fresh manure) and string your strawberry-beds, clipping away all their runners till they blossom. And note, that you can hardly over-water vour strawberry-beds in a dry season ; yet better not water at all than too sparingly. Uncover your asparagus, spreading and loosning the mould about them, for their more easy penetrating ; flourishing the beds thinly with a little fine fresh manure. Also may you now transplant asparagus roots to make new beds *. Uncover also artichoaks cautiously, and by degrees. The like your fig-trees, cutting off the dead wood. By this time your bees sit ; keep them close night and morning, if the weather prove unkind. Turn your fruit in the room where it lies, but open not yet the windows. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Golden ducket [doucet], pepins, reineting, Lones pear- main, winter pearmaln, winter bon-cretienne, john-apple, &c. Pears. — Later bon-chrestlen, double blossom pear. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Stake and bind up your weakest plants and flowers against the winds, before they come too fiercely, and in a moment prostrate a whole year's labour. Plant box, &c. in parterres. Sow pinks, sweet-williams, and car- nations, from the middle to the end of this month. Sow pine-kernels, firr-seeds, bays, alaternus, phillvrea, and most perennial greens, &c, ; or you may stay till somewhat later in the month. Sow auricula-seeds, * See " Discourse of Earth," p. 38. 452 ill pots or cases, In fine willow earth, a little loamy, and place what you sow'd in September (which is the more proper season) now in the shade, and water it. Plant some anemony-roots, to bear late and successively, especially in and about London, where the smoak is any thing tolerable ; and, if the season be very dry, water them well once in two or three days ; as likewise ranunculus's. Fibrous roots may be transplanted about the middle of this month ; such as hepaticas, primroses, auriculas, cam- momile, narcissus, tuberose, matricaria, gentianella, hellebore, and other summer flowers. Set leucoium ; slip the keris, or wall-flower ; and, towards the end, lupines, convolvolus's, Spanish or ordinary jasmine. You may now, a little after the .Equinox, prune pine and fir trees. See September. Towards the middle or latter end of March sow on the hot-beds such plants as are late bearing flowers or fruit in our climate ; as balsamine, and balsamum mas, pomum amoris, datura, .^thiopic apples, some choice amaranthus, dactyls, geraniums, hedysarum clypea- tum, humble and sensitive plants, lentiscus, myrtle-berries (steep'd awhile), capsicum indicum, canna indica, flos africanus, mirabile peruian. nasturtium ind. indian phaseoli, volubilis, myrrh, carrobs, marcoc, sive flos passionis, and the like rare and exotic plants, which are brought us from hot countries. Note, that the nasturtium ind. african raarygolds, volubilis, and some others, will come (though not altogether so forwards) in the cold- bed, without art : but the rest require much and constant heat, and therefore several hot-beds, till the common earth be very warm by the advance of the sun, to bring them to a due stature, and perfect their seeds : therefore, your choicest amaranthus being risen pretty high, remove them into another temperate hot-bed; the same you may do with your African and sensitive plants, especially, which always keep under glasses*. About the expiration of this month carry into the shade such auri- culas, seedlings, or plants, as are for their choiceness reserved in pots. Ti'ansplant also carnation seedlings, giving your layers fresh earth, and setting them in the shade for a week ; then likewise cut off all * See " Discourse of Earth," pp. 40, 41. 453 the sick and infected leaves, for now you may set your choice ones out of covert, as directed in February. Now do the farewell frosts and easterly winds prejudice your choicest tulips, and spot them ; therefore cover such with mats, or canvas, to prevent freckles, and sometimes destruction. The same care have of your most precious anemonies, auriculas, chamse-iris, brumal jacynths, early cyclamen, &c. Wrap your shorn cypress tops with straw wisps, if the Eastern blasts prove very tedious, and forget not to cover with dry straw, or pease hame, your young exposed evergreens, as yet seedlings, such as firr, pine, phillyrea, bays, cypress, &c. 'till they have pass'd two or three years in the nursery, and are fit to be trans- planted ; for the sharp Easterly and Northerly winds transpierce and dry them up. Let this also caution you upon all such extremities of the weather during the whole winter; but be mindful to uncover them in all benign and tolerable seasons and intermissions ; it being these acute winds, and seldom or never the hardests frosts or snows, which do the mischief. About the end, uncover even your choicest plants, but with caution, for the tail of the frosts yet continuing, and sharp winds, with the sudden darting heat of the sun, scorch and destroy them in a moment : and in such weather neither sow nor transplant. Sow stock-gillyflower seeds in the full, to produce double flowers. In the mean time, let gentlemen and ladies who are curious, trust little by mangonisme, insuccations, or medecine, to alter the species, or indeed the forms and shapes of flowers considerably, that is, to render that double which nature produces but single, &c. but by frequent transplanting, removing, &c. inriching the mould, to multiply and double ; and by sterving and hardrling the earth, and consequently taking from the roots the freer nourishment, for variation and change- Make much of this document. Now you may set your oranges, lemmons, myrtles, oleanders, lentisci, dates, aloes, amomums, and like tender trees and plants, in the portico, or with the windows and doors of the green -houses and conservatories open, for eight or ten days before April, or earlier, if the season invite (that is, if the sharp winds be past), to acquaint them gradually with the air ; I say gradually and carefully, for this change is the most 454 critical of the whole year ; trust not, therefore, the nights too confidently, unless the weather he thorowly settled. Now is also your season to raise stocks to bud oranges and lemmons on, by sowing the seeds early this month, in such mould as is mentioned in May. Let the seeds be of the Sevil orange, half a dozen in a pot is enough, plunging it in the hot-bed ; renew'd some time in May. Thus they will have shot near a foot before winter, and at the end of three years be fit for inoculation; which you may now also bud at the end of this month, placing two buds opposite to each other, within an inch of the earth. Make much of this direction. Some of the hardiest evergreens may now be transplanted, especially if the weather be moist and temperate. Lastly, Bring in materials for the birds in the aviary to build their nests withal. Floivers in prime, and yet lasting. Anemonies, spring cyclamen, winter aconite, crocus, bellis, white and black hellebore, single and double hepatica, leucoion, chamee-iris of all colours, dens caninus, violets, fritillaria, chelidonium (small with double flowers}, hermodactyls, tuberous iris, hyacinth zeboin, brumal, oriental, &c. junquills, great chalic'd, dutch mezereon. persian iris, auriculas, narcissus with large tufts, common, double, and single prunroses, prsecoce tulips, Spanish ti'umpets or junquils, violets, yellow dutch violets, ornithogalum max. alb. crown imperial, grape flowers, almonds and peach blossoms, rubus odoratus, arbor judae, &c. APRIL Hath XXX days — long, 13'' 23™. Sun rises $*> 18>n — sets 6h 42"'. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow sweet marjorum, hyssop, basil*, thyme, winter savory, scurvy- grass, and all fine and tender seeds that require the hot-bed. Note, that sweet herbs should be stirr'd up, and new moulded, to make them strike fresh roots, * This excellent herb is but little regarded at present, notwithstanding the introduction of French cookery into this country. 455 Sow also lettuce, purslan, caulyflower, radish, leeks, &c. One may sow radish and carrots together in the same hed, so as the first may be drawn, whilst the other is ready. Sow radish, lettuce, purslan, sampler, parsnips, carrots, on the same ground, gatherino' each kind in their seasons, leaving the parsnips to winter : but it were good to change the ground for carrots and parsnips now and then. Remember to weed them when they are about two inches high, and a little after to thin them with a small hausrh. Plant artlchoak-slips, &c. Set French-beans, &c. And sow turnips, to have them early. You may yet slip lavendar, thyme, penny-royal, sage, rosemary, &c. and the oftener you clip and c;at them the more will they thrive. Sage so dress'd at the spring and autumn will cause it to continue long and fair, without re-planting. To have excellent salleting all the year round, sow turnip-seed, radish, lettuce, purslan, borrage, tarragon, and all other kinds, in very rich ground, and in winter and spring on the hot-bed, cover'd, &c. drawing them root and all as soon as they open a leaf as broad as a threepenny piece, and so repeat sowing monthly. Geld and prune strawberries. Now also wall-trees, especially the peach, should have a second pruning, shortning the branches just above the knit fruit. Towards the middle of this month begin to plant forth vour melons and cucumbers, and so to the latter end, your ridges well prepared. Gather up worms and snails after evening showers; continue this after all summer rains. Soot-ashes, refuse sweepings of tobacco-stalks, made into a fine powder or dust, and strewed half an inch in thickness at the foot of trees, and now and then renewed, prevents pismires, and other crawling insects, from invading the fruit, &c. Weed and haugh betimes. (See July.) In such bordures as you plant wall-fruit, or espaliers, (which bordures should be, at the least, four or five foot in breadth,) plant neither herbs nor flowers, that you may be continually stirring the mould with the spade, and (as need is) 456 recreatlno- it with composts. This may be instead (and far better) of hand-weeding ; only you may adorn the outward verge with an edging of pink, Hmon, thyme, veronica, &c. renewing them when you perceive them to grow sticky and leave gaps ; and you may sprinkle the rest of the surface with lettuce, radish, turnip-seeds, for tender salletlng, so you be sure to pull them up root and all by that time they are an inch hioh, and shew a leaf no broader than a three-pence. Open now your bee- hives, for now they hatch ; look carefully to them, and prepare your hives, &c. Fruit in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Pippins, deux-ans, west-berry apple, russeting, july- flowers, flat reinet, &c. Pears. — Later bon-crestien, oak-pear, &c. double blossom, &c. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Sow divers annuals to have flowers all summer ; as double marigolds, digitalis, delphinium, cyanus of all sorts, candy-tufts, garden pansy, musclpula, scabius, scorpoides medlca, holyhocks, columbines, bell- videre, which renew every five or six years, else they will degenerate, &c. Continue new and fresh hot-beds to entertain such exotic plants as arrive not to their perfection without them, till the air and common earth be qualified with sufficient warmth to preserve them abroad. A catalogue of these you have in the former month. Transplant such fibrous roots as you had not finish'd in March (for this is the better season), as violets, hepatlca, primroses, hellebore, matrlcarla, &c. Place auricula seedlings in the shade. Sow pinks, carnations, which you may continue to trim up, and cleanse from dead and rotten leaves, viz. your old roots. Sow sweet- williams, &c. to flower next year : this after rain. Set lupines, &c. Sow leucoium in full moon, sprinkle it thin, frequently remove them, and replant In moist weather the following spring. Sow also yet pine-kernels, fir-seeds, phlllyrea, alaternus, and most perennial greens. Vide September. 457 Now take out your Indian tuberoses *, parting the ofF-sets (but with care, lest you break their fangs, for it is from off-sets only that you may expect flowers in due time, and not from the mother bulb), then pot them in natural f (not forc'd) earth ; a layer of rich mould beneath and about this natural earth, to nourish the fibres, but not so as to touch the bulbs : then plunge your pots in a hot-bed temperately warm, and give them no water till they spring, and then set them under a South wall : in dry weather water them freely, and expect an incomparable flower in August. Thus likewise treat the narcissus of japan, or guernsey lilly, mingling the earth with sea sand, for a later flower; although that nice curiosity, set only in a warm corner, expos'd to the South, without any removal at all for many years, has sometimes prospered better. Sea sand mingled with the mould more plentifully towards the surface, exceedingly contributes to the flourishing of this rare exotick. The protuberant fangs of the yuca are to be treated like the tuberoses. Make much of this precious direction. Set out and expose flos cardinalis. Slip and set marums. Water anemonies, ranunculus's especially, and plants in pots and cases once in two or three days, if drought require it. Note, that even anemonies, and flowers of that class, should be dis- creetly prun'd, where they ijiat too thick ; as also gillyflowers and carnations, to produce fair flowers. But carefully protect from violent storms of rain, hail, tails of the frosts, and the too parching darts of the sun, your pennach'd tulips, ranunculus's, anemonies, auriculas, covering them with matrasses sup- ported on cradles of hoops, which have now in readiness. Now is the season for you to bring the choice and tender shrubs, &c, out of the conservatory, such as you durst not adventure forth in March ; let it be in a fair day ; only your orange-trees may remain in the house till May (see the caution there), to prevent all danger. Yet if the weather prove benign you may adventure, about the middle of this month, giving a refreshment of water, not too cold : about four gallons of * This beautiful flower has been much neglected of late years. ■ t See May. 3 N 458 heated water to twenty, will render it blood-warm, which is the fittest temper on all occasions throughout the year. Above all things, bevvare both of cold spring, pump, or stagnant shaded waters ; that of the river is best, but of rain incomparable. In heat of summer, let the water stand in the sun till it grow tepid. Cold applications, and all extreams, are pernicious. Now is the season (about the beginning of this month) to prune and cut off the tops of such trees as have shot above four or five inches. You mav now graff these tender shrubs, &c. by approach, viz. oranges, lemmons, pomegranads, jasmines, &c. Now, towards the end of April, you may transplant and remove vour tender shrubs, &c. as Spanish jasmines, myrtles, oleanders, young oranges, cyclamen, pomegranads, &c.; but first let them begin to sprout, placing them a fortnight in the shade. But about London it may be better to defer this work till mid- August. Vide also May, from whence take directions how to refresh and trim them. Prune now your Spanish jasmine within an inch or two of the stock ; but first see it begin to shoot. Mow carpet-walks, and ply weeding, &c. Be diligent in ridding this work before they run to seed and grow downy, and speedily to rake away what you pull or haugh up, lest they take root and fasten again, and infect the ground. ■ Note, that an half- spit deep stirring and turning up of the earth about your bordures of mural trees, &c. is to be preferred to hand- weeding, and more expeditious. Towai'ds the end (if the cold winds are past), and especially after showers, clip phillyrea, alaternus, cypress, box, myrtles, barba jovis, and other tonsile shrubs, &c. Here, to take off a reproach which box may lie under, (otherwise a most beautiful and useful shrub, for edgings, knots, and other ornaments of the coronary-garden,) because its scent is not agreeable to many, if immediatelv upon clipping (when only it is most offensive) you water it, the smell vanishes, and is no more considerable. Flowers in 'prime, or yet lasting. Anemonies, ranunculus's, arricula ursi, chamse-iris, crown imperial. 459 caprifolium, cyclamen, bell-flower, dens caninus, frltillaria, gentianella' hyperlcum frutex, double hepatica's, jacinth starry, double dasies, florence iris, tufted narcissus, white, double, and common, English double, primrose, cowslips, pulsatilla, ladies smock, tulips medias, ranunculus's of Tripoly, white violets, musk grape-flower, geranium, radix cava, caltha palustris, parietaria lutea, leucoium, persian lilies, peonies, double jonquils, muscaria reversed, cochlearia, persian jas- mine, acanthus, lilac, rosemary, cherries, wall-pears, almonds, abricots, peaches, white thorn, arbor Judse * blossoming, &c. n MAY Hath xxxi clays — long, IS*" 9"". Sun rises at 4' '25'" — sets 7'' 4'i*'. In the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow sweet maijoran, basil, thyme, hot and aromatick herbs and plants, which are the most tender. Transplant sampler to some very warm exposure, as under a South wall. You cannot provide too much of this excellent ingredient to all crude sallads. Sow purslan, to have young; lettuce, large-sided cabbage, painted beans, &c. Plant out cabbages and caully-flowers, nasturces, bete- chard, sellery. Look carefully to your melons; and towards the end of this month forbear to cover them any longer on ridges, either with straw or matrasses, &c. Prune fig-trees. You may now give a third pruning to peach-trees, taking away and pinching off unblossoming branches. Break and pull off all crumpl'd dry'd leaves and wither'd branches of mural trees, and cleanse them from snails, caterpillars, &c. every where. Fig-trees may be graffed by inarching. Ply the laboratory, and distil plants for waters, spirits, &c. * This early-flowering tree has never become common in this country 460 Continue weeding before they run to seeds; carefully observing the directions of April and July, as of extraordinar}' importance both for saving charge, improvement of the fruit, and the neat maintaining of vour i)[arcien. Now set vour bees at full liberty, look out often, and expect swarms, &c. Fiidts in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Pippins, deux-ans, or john-apples, west-berry apples, russettings, gilly-flower apples, the maligar, &c. codling. Pears. — Great kairvilie, winter bon-chrestien, black pear of Worces- ter Surrein, double-blossom pear, &c. Cherries, &c. — ^The May-cherry*, strawberries, &c. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Now forasmuch as gentlemen are very inquisitive when were the best and securest season for exposing their orange-trees f , and more tender curiosities, I give them this for a rule the most infallible : that they observe the mulberrj-tree, when it begins to put forth and open the leaves (be it earlier or later), bring your oranges, &c. boldly out of the conservatory ; 'tis your only season to transplant and remove them. Let this be done with care, if the tree be too ponderous to be lifted perpendicularly by the hand alone, by applying a triangle and pully, and so with a rope, and a broad horse-girth at the end, lapped about the stem (to prevent galling), draw out the tree, with competent mould adhering to it, having before loosned it from the sides of the case, and so with ease transfer it into another. Let the cases be filled with natural earth (such as is taken the first half spit from * Have we lost an early variety of this fruit, or is our season later? f Orange-trees were the principal ornament of the English greenhouse in Evelyn's time, as they still continue to be of those on the Continent. The Queen of Charles the First had an orange-house and orange-garden at Wimbledon, in Surrey, which were sold by order of the Pailiament in 1649; when 42 orange-trees were valued ■it ^420, and one lemon-tree at 5^20 ; and 18 orange-trees, that had not borne fruit, sold for ^90. See Phillips's Pomarium Britannicum. 461 just under the turf of the best pasture-ground *, in a phice that has been well fother'd on), inixing It with one part of rotten cow-dung, (some prefer horse-dung,) or very mellow soil, screen'd and prepar'd some time before. If this he too stiff, sift a little lime discreetly with it, or rather sea-coal ashes, or the rotten sticks and stuff found in hollow willows; and if it want binding, a little loamy earth. Then cutting the too thick and extravagant roots a little, especially at bottom, set your plant, but not too deep ; rather let some of the roots appear. If you see cause to form the heads of your trees, by cutting off any consi- derable branch, cover the wound or amputation with a mixture of bees- wax, rosin, and turpentine ; of the wax and turpentine each one ounce, of rosin two ; some add a little tallow. Lastly, settle it with tem- perately enriched water (such as is impregnated with neat and sheeps dung especially, set and stlrr'd in the sun some few days before, but be careful not to drench them too much at first, but giving it by degrees day after day, without wetting the stem or leaves), having before put some rubbish of lime-stones, pebbles, shells, faggot-spray, or the like, at the bottom of the cases, to make the moisture passage, and keep the earth loose, for fear of rotting the fibres. See November, Then set them in the shade for a fortnight, and afterwards expose them to the sun ; yet not where it is too scorching by the reflection of walls, but rather where they may have the gentle shade of distant trees, or a palisade thin hedge or curtain drawn before them, which may now and then be sprlnkl'd with water, as seamen do their sails. The morning sun, till about three in the afternoon, is best. Be not yet over-hasty in giving them the full sun ; for in your discreet acqaintlng them with this change consists their prosperity during all the summer after -f-. Give now also your hous'd plants (such as you do not thirds requisite to take out) fresh earth at the surface, in place of some of the old earth (a hand depth or so), and loosning the rest with a fork, without wounding the roots. Let this be of excellent rich soil ]};, such as is * See " Discourse of Earth," pp. 40, 41. f Ibid. p. 41. + Vide July. 462 throughly consum'd, and will sift, that it may wash in the vertue, and comfort the plant. Brush and cleanse them likewise from the dust contracted during their enclosure. If you do not transplant or remove them about the middle of the month, take off the surface-earth about an inch or two deep, and put cow-dung of the last year's preparation in place of it, covering it over with the same mould. (See July.) But now for a compendium, and to gratifie gentlemen with what is most effec- tual, as well as easie. Let them always be provided with a plentiful stock of old neats'-dung, well air'd and stirr'd for two years. Then with three parts of this, and one of the bottom of the tanner's pit (with some addition of a light under-turf mould), they will be provided with an incomparable composition, not only for their orange-trees, but for all other sorts of verdures. But after all, where there is to be found a natural earth, with an eye of loam in it (such as Is proper for most flowers, carnations especially), mixing it with well-consumed horse- dung, and something of a drying nature, such as is the ashes of sea- coal, in due proportion, to keep it loose and from clogging, you need seek for nothing more. Neither shall they need much to trim the roots (unless they find them exceedingly matted and straggling), or put so much loose trash at the bottom of their cases ; but it were good to change them once in three or four years into larger ones, if they prosper. The least size of cases ought to be of sixteen inches, the middle sort of two foot, and the largest near a yard diameter, supported from the o^round with knobs or feet, four inches. These last directions have till now been kept as considerable secrets amongst our gard'ners. (Vide August and September.) Shade your carnations and gilly-flowers after mid-day about this season. You may likewise sow clove gilly-flowers, new-moon. Sow also your stock-gilly-flowers in beds, full- moon. Continue watering ranunculus's. Transplant forth your amaranthus's where you would have them stand. Sow antirrinumj or you may set it. Gather what anemony-seed you find ripe, and that is worth saving ; preserve it very dry. You may plant single anemonies. Prune jasmine close, within half an Inch. 463 Cut likewise the stalks of such bulbous flowers as you find dry. Towards the end take up those tulips which are dry'd In the stalk ; coverlno" what you find to He bare from the sun and showers. And if you find any to be canker'd, bury them immediately in the earth again, before they be dry ; 'tis the best cure. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. |L,ate set anemonles and ranunculus omn. gen. anapodophylon, blat- taria, chamse-iris, augustlfol. cyanus, cytisus, maranthe, cyclamen, helleborlne, columbines, caltha palustrls, double cotyledon, digitalis, fraxinella, gladiolus, geranium, horminum creticum, yellow hemero- callls, strip'd jacinth, early bulbous iris, asphodel, yellow lillies, lychnis, jacea, bellis double, white and red, millefolium luteum, phalangium orchis, lilium convallium, span, pinks, deptford pinks, rosa common, cinnamon, guelder, and centlfol. &c. oleaster, cherry-bay, trachelium, cowslips, hesperis, antirrhinum, syringas, sedums, tulips serotln, &c. valerian, veronica double and single, musk violets, ladles slipper, stock- gilly-flowers, Spanish nut, star-flower, chalcedons, ordinary crowfoot, red martagon, bee-flowers, campanellas (white and blue), persian lilly, honey-suckles, buglos, homer's moly, and the white of dloscorides, pansls, prunella, purple thallctrum, sisymbrium (double and simple), leucoium bulbosum serotinum, peonies, sambucus, rosemary, stsechas, sea-narcissus, barba jovis, laurus, satyrion, oxyacanthus, tamarlscus, apple blossoms, &c. s JUNE Hath XXX days — long, IG'' IT"". Sun rises 3*' 51"' — sets S*" <)■". To he done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow lettuce, chervil, radish, &c. to have young and tender salleting. About the midst of June you may inoculate peaches, abrlcots, cher- ries, plums, apples, pears, &c. On what stocks, see November. You may now also (or in May before) cleanse vines of exuberant branches and tendrels, cropping (not cutting) and stopping the second 464 ^< joint, or Immediately before the fruit, and some of the under branches which bear no fruit ; especially in young vineyards, when they first begin to bear, and thence forwards, binding up the rest to props. More ample directions for the nursery this month's beginning, see " Discourse of Earth," p. 15. ^ Gather herbs in the full to keep dry. They keep and retain their vertue and sweet smell, provided you take the same care as you do in hay, that you expose them not in too thin but competent heaps, which you may turn and move till they be reasonably dry, not brittle, and the sooner it be dispatch'd the better. The gard'ner therefore should attend it himself; for there is very great difference in the vertue of plants, according as they are dry'd. To preserve the colour of flowers or herbs, they should be dry'd in the shade ; but they will be apt to contract mustiness unless shewed to the sun a little. Now is your season to distill aromatick plants, &c. Water lately planted trees, and put moist and half-rotten fearn, &c. about the foot of their stems, having first clear'd them of weeds, and a little stirr'd the earth. Now because the excessive scorchings of this and the two following months (and not seldom the winters also), do frequently indanger the untimelv falling both of blossom and fruit before their maturity, place a vessel of impregnated water near the stem of the tree, and lap a rea- sonable long piece of flannel, or other woollen or linnen clout about it, letting one end thereof hang in the water, by which the moisture ascending will be suck'd thro' the very bark, and consequently nourish and invigorate the tree to re-produce its former verdure. The water is to be supply'd as you find it convenient, and no longer, lest it sob your stem too much. This manner of refreshing is more to be preferr'd than bv suffering it to drop only upon the earth (which yet in other occa- sions is profitable) per Ungulam; which, if too plentifully, endangers the chilling and rotting of the fibres. Note, that sick trees, as orange, &c. frequently impair'd by removes, carriage, ill handling, and other accidents, are many times recover'd by a milk diet; that is, diluting it with a portion of water discreetly 465 administer'd, as you find amendment. Sometimes also by plunging them in the hot-bed ; or by letting the tree down into a pit of four or five foot depth, covering the head, and the rest of the tree above, with a glaz'd frame. Either of these remedies profit according as the plant is affected, wanting warmth or nourishment. Ply weeding as in the former month. Look to your bees for swarms and casts ; and begin to destroy insects with hoofs, canes, and tempting baits, &c. Gather snails after rain, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Juniting (first ripe), pippins, john-apples, robillard, red Fennouil, &c. French. Pears. — The maudlin (first ripe), madeira, green-royal, St. Lawrence pear, &c. Cherries, &c. — Duke, flanders, heart (black, red, white), luke- ward, early flanders, the common cherry, Spanish black, naples cherries, &c. Rasberries, corinths *, strawberries, melons, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Floiver Garden. Transplant autumnal cyclamens now, if you would change their place ; otherwise let them stand. Take up iris chalcedon. Gather the ripe seeds of flowers worth the saving, as of choicest oriental jacinth, narcissus (the two lesser, pale, spurious daffodils, of whitish green, often produces varieties), auriculas, ranunculus's &c. and preserve them dry. Shade your carnations from the afternoon sun. You may now begin to lay your gilly-flowersf . Sow some annuals to flower in the later months. a * Currants were formerly considered to be a species of the gooseberry, and had no other name until they were called Corinths, from their similitude to the small Zante grapes (the currants of the grocers), which grew in great abundance about Corinth, and which now bear also the cor- rupted name of currants. t This alludes to the clove giily-flower, Dianthtis Caryophyllus. The name of gillyflower was common to several plants, as the stock-gillyflower, and the wall-gillyflower. Our great Lexicogra- 3 o 466 Take up your rarest anemonies and ranunculus's after rain (if it come seasonable, not before), the stalk wither'd, and dry the roots well. This about the end of the month. In mid-June inoculate jasmine, roses, and some other rare shrubs. Sow now also some anemony seeds. Take up your tulip bulbs, burying such immediately as you find naked upon your beds, or else plant them in some cooler place ; and refresh over-parch'd beds with water. Water your pots of narcissus of Japan (that precious flower), &c. Stop some of your scabious's from running to seed the first year, by now removing them, and next year they will produce excellent flowers. Also you may now take up all such plants and flower-roots as endure not well out of the ground, and replant them again immediately; such as the early cyclamen, jacinth oriental, and other bulbous jacinths, iris, fritillaria, crown imperial, martagon, muscaris, dens caninus, &c. The shps of myrtle set in some cool and moist place, do now frequently take root. Also cytisus lunatus will be multiplied by slips in a damp place, such as are an handful long of that spring, but neither by seeds nor layers. Look now to your aviary ; for now the birds grow sick of their feathers ; therefore assist them with emulsions of the cooler seeds bruised in their water, as melons, cucum- bers, &c. Also give them succory, beets, groundsel, chickweed, fresh gravel, and earth, &c. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus, anemonies single, antirrhinum, asphodel, campanula, convolvolus, cyclamen, clematis panonica, cyannus, blattaria, digitalis, gladiolus, hedysarum, geranium, horminum creticum, hieracium, hes- neris, bulbous iris, and divers others, lychnis var. generum, martagon (white and red), millefolium (white and yellow), nasturtium indicam. pher concludes that the word is corrupted from July flower, because Lord Bacon says, " in July come gillyflowers of all varieties ■" and Mortimer is also quoted, who writes, " Gillyflowers, or rather July flowers, are called from the month they blow in ;" or, says Johnson, " from Girofi^e, of the French." It is evidently not derived from July, since Chaucer, who frequently uses French words, spells it gilofre. The learned Dr. Turner, in his History of Plants of 1568, calls it gelouer. Gerard, who succeeded Turner, and after him Parkinson, call it gilloflower, and thus it travelled from its original orthography, until it was called July-flower. Flora Historica, vol. II. 467 nigella, aster atticus, hellebore, alb. gentiana, trachelium, ficus indica, fraxinella, shrub nightshade, jasmines, honey-suckles, genista hisp, carnations, pinks, armerius, ornithogalum, pansy, phalangium virgini- anum, larksheel (early), philosella, roses, thlaspi creticum, &c. vero- nica, viola pentaphyl. campions or sultans, mountain lillies (white, red), double poppies, palm christi, stock-gilly-flowers, corn-flag, holly- hock, muscaria, serpillum citratum, phalangium allobrogicum, orano-es, rosemary, gelder, and cynomon roses, tuber-rose, lentiscus, pomgranade, the lime-tree, &c. ^ JULY Hath xxxi days — long, IS"" 59°. ■ Sun rises 4'' 0"" — sets S"" 1™. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow lettuce, raddish, &c. to have tender salleting. Sow later pease, to be ripe six weeks after Michaelmas. Water young planted trees, and layers, &c. and re-prune now abri- cots and peaches, saving as many of the young likeliest shoots as are well placed ; for the now bearers commonly perish, the new ones suc- ceeding. Cut close and even, purging your wall-fruit of superfluous leaves, which hinder from the sun, but do it discreetly ; as also vines. It were now fit (and especially when the fruit is either forming or requires filling, and before if the season be very dry), to give plentiful refreshments to your mural fruit-trees, pouring it leisurely into holes made with a wooden -pointed stake, at competent distance from the stem, and so as not to touch or wound any of the roots. You may leave the short stakes in the holes for a while, or fill them with mould again. Thus may you feed your vines with blood, sweet, and mingled with water, &c. But this, and all other summer refreshings, is only to be done early in the morning, or late in the evenings. You may now also begin to inoculate. Let such olitory-herbs run to seed as you would save. 468 Towards the latter end, visit your vineyards * again, &c. and stop the exuberant shoots at the second joint above the fruit (if not finish'd before), but not so as to expose it to the sun, without some umbrage. Remove long-sided cabbages planted in May, to head in autumn ; 'tis the best cabbage in the world. Remember to cut away all rotten and patrify'd leaves from your cabbages, which else will infect both earth and air. Now begin to streighten the entrance of your bees a little, and help them to kill their drones, if you observe too many ; setting the new- invented cucurbit-glasses of beer mingled with honey, to entice the wasps, flies, &c. which waste your store. Also hang bottles of the same mixture near your red roman nectarines, and other tempting fruits and flowers, for their destruction ; else they many times invade your best fruit. Set therefore up hoofs of neats'-feet for the earwigs, and remember to cleanse and shake them out at noon, when they con- stantly repair for the shade. They are cursed devourers; nor ought vou to be less diligent to prevent the ants, which above all invade the orange-flower, by casting scalding brine on their hills and other receptacles. Look now also diligently under the leaves of mural-trees for the snails; they stick commonly somewhat above the fruit. Pull not off" what is bitten, for then they will certainly begin afresh. Have still an eye to the weeding and cleansing part. Begin the work of haughing as soon as ever they begin to peep ; you will rid more in a few hours than afterwards in a whole day ; whereas, neglect- ing it till they are ready to sow themselves, you do but stir and prepare for a more numerous crop of these garden-sins : I cannot too often inculcate and repeat it. Fruits in j)rime, w yet lasting. Apples. — Deux-ans, pippins, winter russeting, andrew apples, cin- namon-apple, red and white juneting, the margaret-apple, &c. * Vineyards were common in England in the time of Evelyn. See " Pomarium Britannicum," 3d eJit. p. 1S5. 469 Pears. — The prlmat, russet pears, summer pears, greenchesll pears, orange pear, culsse madame, pearl pear, &c. Cherries. — Carnations, morella, great-bearer, morocco cherry, the egriot, bigarreux, &c. Peaches. — Nutmeg, isobella, perslan, newington, violet, muscat, rambouillet. Plums, &c. — Primordial, myrobalan, the red, blue, and amber violets, damasc. denny damasc. pear-plum, damasc. violet, or cheson plum, abricot-plum, cinnamon plum, the king's plum, Spanish, mo- rocco-plum, lady Eliz. plum, tawny, damascene, &c. figgs. Rasberries, gooseberries, corinths, strawberries, melons, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Slip stocks, and other lignous plants and flowers. From henceforth to Michaelmas you may also lay gilly-flowers and carnations for in- crease, leaving not above two or three spindles for flowers, and nipping off* superfluous buds, with supports, cradles, canes, or hoofs, to establish them against winds, and destroy earwigs. The layers will (in a month or six weeks) strike root, being planted in a light loamy earth, mixed with excellent rotten soil, and sifted. Plant six or eight in a pot to save room in winter. Keep them well from too much rains ; yet water them in drought, sparing the leaves. If it prove too wet, lay your pots side-long ; but shade those which blow from the afternoon sun, as in the former month. Yet also you may lay myrtles, laurels, and other curious greens. Water young planted shrubs and layers, &c. as orange-trees, myrtles, granades *, amomum especially, which shrub you can hardly refresh too often, and it requires abundant compost ; as do likewise both the myrtle and granade-trees ; therefore, whenever you trim their roots, or change their earth, apoly the richest soil (so it be sweet and well consum'd) you can to them, &c. Clip box, &c. in parterres, knots, and compartiments, if need be, and that it grow out of order : do it after rain. * Note, that the granade flourishes best in earth not over-rich.' 470 Graff bv approach, inarch, and inoculate jasmines, oranges, and other your choicest shrubs. Take up your early autumnal cyclamen, tulips, and bulbs (if you will remove them, &c.) before mentioned ; transplanting them imme- diately, or a month after, if you please, and then cutting off and trim- ming the fibres, spread them to air in some dry place. But separate not the off-sets of tulips, &c. until the mother bulb be fully dry. Gather tuHp-seed, if you please ; but let it lie in the pods. Gather now also your early cyclamen-seed, and sow it presently in pots. Remove seedling crocus's sow'd in September constantly at this season, placing them at wider intervals till they begin to bear. Likewise you may take up some anemonies, ranunculus's, crocus, crown imperial, persian iris, fritillaria, and colchicums ; but plant the three last as soon as you have taken them up, as you did the cyclamens * or you may stay till August or September ere you take them up, and replant colchicums. Remove now dens caninus, &c. Take up your gladiolus now yearly, the blades being dry, or else their off-sets will poison the ground. Latter end of July, treat your orange-trees, &c. as directed in May, by refreshing the surface of the cases, to nourish and keep the fruit cool and in vigour. Sift your beds for off-sets of tuhps, and all bulbous roots ; also for anemonies ranunculus's, &c. which will prepare for re- planting with such things as you have already in pots, to plunge or set in the naked earth till the next season ; as amaranths, canna ind. mira- bile peruv. capsicum ind. nasturtium ind. &c, that they may not lie empty and disfurnished. You may sow some anemonies, keeping them temperately moist. Continue to cut off the wither'd stalks of your lower flowers, &c. and all others, covering with earth the bared roots, &c. Now (in the driest season) with lime, brine, pot-ashes (which is the very best of all, because being cast on fine turf it destroys the worms, and improves the grass, which most other applications mortify), and water, or a decoction of tobacco refuse, water your gravel-walks, &c. 471 to destroy both worms and weeds, of which it will cure them for some years. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus, asphodel, antirrhinum, campanula, clematis, cyanus, convolvolus, sultana, veronica purple and odoriferous, digitalis, eryn- gium planum ind. phaseolus, geranium triste, nocte olens, and creti- cum, gladiolus, gentlana, hesperis, nigella, hedysarum, fraxinella, lychnis chalcedon, jacea (white and double), nasturt. ind. millefolium, musk-rose, flos africanus, thlaspi creticum, veronica mag. et parva, volubilis, balsam-apple, holy-hoc, corn-flower, alkekengi, lupines, scor- pion-grass, caryophyllata omn. gen. stock-gillv-flower, scabiosa, mirab. peru, spartum hispan. monthly rose, jasmine, indian tuberous jacinth, limonium, linaria cretica, pansles, prunella, delphinium, phalangium, periploca virgin, flos passionis, flos cardlnalis, yucca, oranges, amomum plinii, oleanders (red and white), agnus castus, arbutus, olive, ligustrum, tijia, &c. y^ AUGUST Hath xxxi days — long, 14'' 33"". Sun rises, 4'' 43"" — sets 7h 17m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Inoculate now early, if before you began not, and gather your bud of that year. Let this work be done before you remove the stocks. Prune off yet also superfluous branches and shoots of this second spring ; but be careful not to expose the fruit without leaves sufficient to screen it from the sun, furnishing and nailing up what you will spare to cover the defects of your walls. Continue yet to cleanse your vines from exuberant branches that too much hinder the sun. Do this discreetly, lest the fruit shrivel, being too much expos'd. Pull up the suckers. Clip roses now done bearing. Sow radish, especially the black, to prevent running up to seed, pale tender cabbages, cauly-flowers for winter plants, corn sallet, marigolds, 4/2 lettuce, carrots, parsnips, turnips, spinage, onions ; also curl'd endive, angelica, scurvy-grass, &c. Strip or tread down onions, and strip the leaves of beets, carrots, parsnips, &c. to improve the roots. Note, that if plants run up to seed over-hastily (as they will be apt to do, being early sown, and the weather hot), pull their roots a little out of the ground, and lay them along in it somewhat slanting, and clap some mould about them. Cauly-flowers over-speeding to pome and head (before they have quite perfected their heads) should be quite eradicated, and may be buried in a cellar, or some cool place, both root and stalk up to the very head, and so they will furnish goodly heads, without sun or exposure abroad. Likewise now pull up ripe onions and garlick, &c. Towards the end sow purslan, chard-beet, chervil, &c. Transplant such lettuce as you will have abide all winter. Gather your olitory-seeds, and clip and cut all such herbs and plants within one handful of the ground before the full. Lastlv, Unbind and release the buds you inoculated, if taken, &c. ; likewise stop and prune them. Pluck up strawberry runners, extirpate the tall stalks, and purge the old tufts and leaves. Now vindemiate, and take your bees towards the expiration of this month, uidess you see cause (by reason of the weather or season) to defer it till mid-September; but, if your stocks be very light and weak, begin the earlier. Make your summer perry and cider. See "Discourse of Cider," at the end of our "Pomona." Fruits in prime, and yet lasting. Apples. — The ladies longing, the kirkham apple, john-apple, the seaming apple, cushion apple, spicing, may-flower, sheeps snout. Pears. — Windsor, sovereign, orange, bergamot, slipper pear, red Catherine, king Catherine, denny pear, prussia pear, summer poppering, sugar pear, lording pear, &c. 473 Peaches and Abricots. — Roman peach, man peach, quince peach, rambouillet, musk peach, grand carnation, portugal peach, crown peach, bourdeaux peach, lavar peach, maudlen, minion peach, the peach des pot, savoy malacoton, which lasts till Michaelmas. Nectarines. — The muroy nectarine, tawny, red roman, little green nectarine, cluster nectarine, yellow nectarine. Peums. — Imperial, blue, white dates, yellow pear-plum, black pear- plum, white nutmeg, late pear- plum, great anthony, turkey-plum, the jane-plum. Other Fruit. — Cluster-grape, muscadine, corinths, cornelians *, mulberries, figs, filberts, melons, &c. To be done in tJie Parterre and Flower Garden. Now (and not till now, if you expect success) is the just season for the budding of the orange-tree. Inoculate, therefore, at the commence- ment of this month, upon seedling stocks of four vears growth. And to have excellent buds, cut off the head of some very old orange-tree of a good kind, which making large shoots, will furnish the best. Now likewise take up your bulbous iris ; or you may sow their seeds, as also those of larks-heel, candy-tufts, columbines, iron-colour'd fox- gloves, holly-hocks, and such plants as endure winter, and the approach- ing seasons. Plant some anemony roots to have flowers all winter, if the roots escape, and take up your seedlings of last year, which now transplant for bearing. Also plant dens caninus, autumnal crocus, and colchicums. Note, that English saffron may be suffered to stand for increase to the third or fourth year without removing. You may now sow narcissus and oriental jacinths, and re-plant sucli * This fruit is no longer seen in our orchards or at our tables. Phillips says, in his " Sylva Florifera," " The cornelian cherry, cornvs mascula, is now removed from the orchard to the shrubbery ; but in this latter situation it is at present so seldom seen, that many persons do not even know that this beautifully-transparent fruit exists, which flourished in the earliest English gardens, graced the desserts of our forefathers, and furnished their dames with fruit for tarts, rob, and marmalade." Vol. I. p. 1S.5 3 p ft 474 as will not do well out of the earth ; as frltillaria, hyacinths, martagon, dens caninus, lillies. Gilly-flowers may yet be slipp'd. Continue your taking up of bulbs, dry them, and lay them up; lillies, &c. of which before. Gather from day to day your alaternus seed as it grows black and ripe, and spread it to sweat and dry before you put it up ; therefore move it sometimes with a broom or whisk, that the seeds clog not together, unless you will separate it from the mucilage ; for then you must a little bruise it wet : wash and dry them in a cloth. Water well your balsamine fcem. Most other seeds may now likewise be gather'd from shrubs, as you find them ripen. About mid-August transplant auriculas, dividing old and lusty roots ; also prick out your seedlings. They best like a loamy sand, or light moist earth, yet rich and shaded. You may likewise sow auricula. Now, towards the latter end, you may sow anemony seeds, ranun- culus's, &c. lightly cover'd with fit mould in cases, shaded, and fre- quently refreshed. Also cyclamen, jacinths, iris, hepatica, primroses, fritillaria, martagon, fraxinella, tulips, &c. but with patience, for some of them, because they flower not till three, four, five, six, and seven years after, especially the tulips, unless you sow the seeds so shallow that they cannot penetrate or sink above an inch or two ; which is a secret. Therefore disturb not their beds (but hand-weed them), and let them be under some warm place, shaded yet, till the heats are past, lest the seeds dry; only the hepaticas and primroses may be sovv'd in some less expos'd beds. Now, about Bartholomew-tide, is the only secure season for removing and laying your perennial greens, oranges, lemons, myrtles, phillyreas, oleanders, jasmines, arbutus, and other rare shrubs, as pomegranads, monthly roses, and whatever is most obnoxious to frosts ; taking the shoots and branches of the past spring, and pegging them down in very rich earth, and soil perfectly consum'd, watering them upon all occasions during the summer; and by this time twelvemonth they will be ready to remove, transplanted in fit earth, set in the shade, and kept 475 moderately moist, not over-wet, lest the young fibres rot : after three weeks set them in some more airy place, but not in the sun till fifteen days more. Vide our observations iti April and May, for the rest of these choice directions. Flowers in 'prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus, anagallis, lusitanica, aster atticus, blattarla, Spanish bells, belvedere, carnations, campanula, clematis, cyclamen vernum, datura turcica, eliochryson, eryngium planum et amethystinum, gera- nium creticum, and triste. Yellow stocks, hleracion minus alpestre, tuberose hyacinth, liraonium, linaria cretica, lychnis, mirabile peruvian, yellow millefolium, nastur. ind. yellow mountain hearts-ease, maracoc, africanus flos, convolvolus's, scabious, asphodils, delphinium, lupines, colchlcum, leucoion, autumnal hyacinth, holly-hock, starwort, hellotrop, french marigold, daisies, geranium nocte olens, common pansies, larks- heels of all colours, nigella, helleborus, balsamln. foem. Lobels catch- fly, thlaspi creticum, rosemary, musk rose, monthly rose, oleanders, Spanish jasmine, yellow Indian jasmine, myrtles, oranges, pomegranads (double and single flowers), shrub spiraea, agnus castus, the virginian martagon, malva arborescens, &c. ^ SEPTEMBER Hath XXX days — long, 12l> 37'". Sun rises 5^ 41'" — sets 6^ 19m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Gather now (if ripe) your winter-fruits, as apples, pears, plums, &c. to prevent their falling by the great winds. Also gather your wind- falls from day to day. Do this work in dry weather. Release inoculated buds, or sooner, if they pinch. You may yet Inoculate peaches. Sow lettuce, radish, spinage, chervil, parsnips, skirrets, &c. cauly- flowers, cabbages, onions, &c. scurvy-grass, annlseeds, &c. And fill your vacant beds with sallading, this month and the next. 476 Now you may transplant most sorts of esculent or physical plants, &c. Also artlchoaks and asparagus-roots *. Sow also winter herbs and roots, and plant strawberries out of the woods. Set them a foot or more asunder. Bind up and blanch sellery, chardon, &c. but tie not up in wet weather. Towards the end, earth up your winter-plants and sallet-herbs, and plant forth your caulyflowers and nursery-cabbages under shelter, tor winter store, which were sown in August. Prepare compost (see Januarv) ; and for trenching and preparing the earth, see " Discourse of Earth," p. 14. No longer now defer the taking of your bees, streightening the entrances of such hives as you leave to a small passage, and continue still your hostility against wasps, and other robbing insects. Cider-making continues. Finiits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — The belle-bonne, the william, summer pear-main, lording- apple, pear-apple, quince-apple, red-greening ribb'd, bloody pippin, harvy, violet-apple, &c. Pears. — Hamden's bergamot (first ripe), summer bon-chrestien, norwich, black Worcester (baking), greenfield, orange, bergamot, the queen hedge-pear, lewis-pear (to dry excellent), frith-pear, arundel pear (also to bake), brunswick-pear, butter-pear, winter poppering, bing's-pear, bishop's pear (baking), diego, emperor's-pear, cluster- pear, messire jean, rowling-pear, balsam-pear, bezy d'hery, pear Evelyn, &c. Peaches, &c.' — Violet peach, admirable, purple peach, malacoton, and some others, if the year prove backwards. Almonds, &c. Quinces. Figs perfectly ripe. * See " Discourse of Earth, " p. 3S. 477 Little blue grape, muscadine-grape, frontiniac, parsly, great blue grape, the verjuice grape, excellent for sauce, &c. Barberries, &c. Melons as yet. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Plant some of all the sorts of anemonies in good, rich, natural earth, especially the latifol. after the first rains, if you will have flowers very forward ; but it is surer to attend till October, or the month after, lest the over moisture of the autumnal seasons give you cause to repent. Now is the most proper season to sow auricula-seeds, setting the cases in the sun till April. (See April.) Begin now also to plant some tulips, unless you will stay till the latter end of October, to prevent all hazard of rotting the bulbs. Plant daffodils and colchicum. All fibrous plants, such as hepatica, hellebore, camomile, &c. also the capillaries, matricaria, violets, primroses, &c. may now be trans- planted ; as likewise iris chalcedon, cyclamen, &c. Now you may also continue to sow alaternus, phillyrea (or you may forbear till the spring), iris, crown imperial, martagon, tulips, del- phinium, nigella, candy-tufts, poppy; and generally all the annuals which are not impaired by the frosts. Sow primroses likewise. Remove seedling digitalis, and plant the slips of lychnis at the beginning. Your tuberoses will not endure the wet of this season, therefore set the pots (having laid them side-long to drain) into your conserve, and keep them very dry. It is best to take them out of the pots about the beginning of this month, and either to preserve them in dry sand, or wrap them up in papers, and so put them in a box near the chimney. Bind now up your autumnal flowers and plants to stakes, to prevent sudden gusts, which will else prostrate all you have so industriously raised. Now you may take off gilly-flower-layers with earth and all, and plant them in pots or borders shaded. Crocus will now be rais'd of seeds. 478 You may yet transplant evergreens, and other rare shrubs of the last month. Prune pines and firs a little after this iEquinox, if you omitted it in March (much the better season). Vide March. About Michaelmas, sooner or later, as the season directs, the weather fair, and by no means foggy, retire your choice greens and rarest plants (being dry), as oranges, lemons, indian and Spanish Jas- mine, oleanders, barba jovis, amomum plin. cytisus lunatus, chamelaea tricoccos, cistus ledon clusii. dates, aloes, sedums, &c.* into your con- servatory ; ordering them with fresh mould, as you were taught in May and July, viz. taking away some of the upmost exhausted earth, and stirring up the rest, fill the cases with rich and well-consumed soil, to wash in and nourish the roots during winter; but as yet leaving the doors and windows open, and giving them free air, so the winds be not sharp and high, nor weather foggy ; do thus till the cold being more intense, advertise you to inclose them altogether. Myrtles will endure abroad near a month longer. The cold now advancing, set such plants as will not endure the house into the earth ; the pots two or three inches lower that the surface of some bed under a Southern exposure. Then cover them with glasses, having cloathed them first with sweet and dry moss; but upon all warm and benign emissions of the sun, and sweet showers, give them air, by taking off all that covers them. Thus you shall pre- serve your costly and precious marum syriacum, clstus's, geranium nocte olens, flos cardinalis, marcocs, seedling arbutus's (a very hardy plant when greater), choicest ranunculus's and anemonies, acacia, segypt, &c. Thus governing them till April. Secrets not till now divulged. Note, that cats will eat and destroy your marum syriacum, if they can come at it ; therefore guard it with a furse or holly-branch. Floivers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus tricolor (and others), anagallis of portugal, antirrhi- * This contains a catalogue of nearly all the green-house plants of the day in which the Author lived. 479 num, afrlcan flo. amomum plinii, aster attlcus, belvedere, bellis, cam- panula's, colchlcum, autumnal cyclamen, clematis, chrysanthemum angustifol. eupatorium of canada, sun-flower, stock gil. flower, geranium ci-eticum and nocte olens, gentianella annual, hieracion minus alpestre, tuberous indian jacinth, linaria cretica, lychnis, constant, (single and double), limonlum, indian lilly, narciss. pomum aureum, anioris, et spinosum ind. marvel of peru, millefolium (yellow), moly monspeliens. nasturtium indicum, persian autumnal narcissus, virginlan phalangium, indian phaseolus, scarlet beans, convolvolus divers, gen. candy-tufts, veronica, purple volubilis, asphodil, crocus, or english saffron, garnsey lilly, or narcissus of japan, poppy of all colours, single and double, malvae arborescens, indian pinks, sethiopick apples, capsicum ind. gilly- flowers, passion flower, datura (double and single), portugal ranuncu- lus's, Spanish jasmine, rhododendron (white and red), oranges, myrtles, balaustia, musk rose, and monthly rose, &c. m OCTOBER Hath xxxi day — long, lo'i 47™. Sun rises 6h 38" — sets 51' S^m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Trench grounds for orcharding and the kitchen -garden, to lie for a winter mellowing *. Finish what you begun the last month. Plant dry trees: 1, Fruit of all sorts, standard, mural, or shrubs which lose their leaf, and that so soon as it falls; but be sure you chuse no trees for the wall of above two years graflSng at the most, sound and smooth \. Now is the time for ablaqueation, and laying bare the roots of old, unthriving, and over-hastily blooming trees; stirring up new planted grounds, as directed in March. Moon now decreasing, gather winter-fruit that remains, weather dry ; take heed of bruising ; lay them up clean, lest they taint. Cut and prune roses yearly, reducing them to a standard not over tall. * See "Discourse of Earth," p. 13. f Ibid. p. 39; and "Pomona," cap. 6. 480 To prevent bruising by windfalls and gusts, now usually hapning. lay some sweet straw under your fruit-trees. Plant and plash quick-sets. Remove graffs after the second year, unless dwarfs, which you may let stand till the third. Save and sow all stony and hard kernels and seeds, such as black cherry, morellos, black heart, all good ; pear-plum, peaches, almond- stones, &c. Also nuts, haws, ashen, sycamore, and maple keys ; acorns, beech-mast, apple, pear, and crab kernels, for stocks ; or you may defer it till the next month, towards the latter end, keeping them drv and free from mustiness, remembering to cover the beds with littier. See Directions in our " Sylva for Forest Trees," and "Pomona," c. 1. You may yet sow genoa lettuce, which will last all the winter *, radish, &c. Make winter cider and perry. Towards the latter end plant abricots, cherries, plums, vines, winter pears, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Belle-et-bonne, william, costard, lording, parsley-apples, pearmain, pear-apple, honey-meal, apis, &c. Pears. — The caw-pear (baking), green-butter-pear, thorn-pear, clove-pear, roussel-pear, winter bon-chrestien, town -pear, lombart-pear, russet-pear, saflPron-pear, and some of the former month, violet-pear, petworth-pear, otherwise called the winter-windsor, lansac, bearn- pear, admirable, violet peach, ramboullet, paves, &c. Bullis, and divers of the September plums, the chasselas, and other grapes, pines, arbutus ■j', &c. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Now your narcissus tuberose, not enduring the wet, must be set into the house, and preserved very dry till April. (See September.) '* Especially under glass bells, or frames, with a little straw over them, when the hard frosts come ; but then touch tlieni not till they thaw, lest you break the glasses. t The arbutus, or strawberry-tree, was rare in Evelyn's time. This fruit has never been held in estimation in England, although it frequently ripens well in this country. It is common in the markets of Constantinople. 481 Continue sowing what you did in September, If you please. Like- wise cypress may be sown, but take heed of the frost; therefore forbear much clipping. (Vide March.) Also, You may plant some anemonies *, especially the tenuifollas, and ranunculus's in fresh sandish earth, taken from under the turf, but lay richer mould at the bottom of the bed, which the fibres may reach, but not to touch the main roots, which are to be cover'd with the natural earth two Inches deep ; and so soon as they appear secure them with mats or dry straw from the winds and frosts, giving them air in all benign Intervals, if possible once a day. Plant also ranunculus's of Trlpoly, vernal crocus's, &c. Remove seedling hollyhocks, or others. Plant now your choice tulips, &c. which you fear'd to Interr at the beginning of September; they will be more secure, and forward enough : but plant them in natural earth somewhat Impoverish'd with very fine sand, else they will soon loose their variegations : some more rich earth may lie at the bottom, within reach of the fibres (as above). Now have a care your carnations catch not too much wet; therefore retire them to covert, where they may be kept from the rain, not the air, or lay them on their sides, trimming them with fresh mould. All sorts of bulbous roots may now also be safely buried ; likewise iris's, &c. You may yet sow alaternus and phlllyrea seeds. It will now be good to beat, roll, and mow carpet walks and camomile ; for now the ground is supple, and it will even all inequalities. Finish your last weeding, &c. Sweep and cleanse your walks, and all other places, from autumnal leaves fallen, lest the worms draw them into their holes, and foul your gardens, &c. Floivers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus tricolor, &c. aster attlcus, amomums, antirrhinum, * The observations on planting anemonies, ranunculuses, and tulips, have not been improved upon since the Author's time ; and were they more generally attended to, we should see these flowers in greater beauty than the generality of modern gardens present them. 3q 482 colchlcum, saffron, cyclamen, clematis, heliotrops, stock-gilly-flower, geranium triste, ind. tuberose, jacinth, limonium, lychnis (white and double), pomum amoris and sethiop. marvel of peru, millefol. luteum, autumnal narciss. pansies, aleppo narciss. sphserical narciss. nasturt. persicum, gillyfl. virgin phalangium, pilosella, violets, veronica, arbu- tus, span, jasmine, and yellow ind. jasmine, monthly rose, oranges, myrtles, balaustor, pomegranade. } NOVEMBER Hath XXX days — long, Sh S^m. Sun rises T"" 34™ — sets 4l> 2Gin. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Carry compost out of your melon-ground, or turn and mingle it with the earth, and lay it in ridges ready for the spring. Also trench, and fit grounds for artichoaks, &c. * , The hot-bed must now supjily for sal lets, young lettuce, cresses, chervil, &c. and trust not to tlie accidental mildness of the weather, so as to neglect timely cover to your tender olitories. Shelter fig-trees. Plant also gooseberries, raspis, corinths, and other shrub fruit. Note, that the leaves fallen in the woods may supply for long-dung, laid about artichoaks and other things, even to the end of March. Continue your setting and transplanting of trees ; lose no time, hard frosts come on apace. Yet you may, lay bare old roots -j-. Remember in all transplantings to observe the former aspects and quarter of the compass, as of much importance, whatever some fancv. Nor set any deeper than it stood, establishing it against winds. You cannot plant too early in autumn, wind South or West. To sow moderately dry, plant moist, a general rule ; but cover not too thick with earth what you sow, for nature covers nothing. You cannot sow too shallow, so you preserve the seeds from birds. Plant young trees, standards, or mural J. * See " Discourse of Earth," p. 38. f Ibid. p. 39. J Ibid. p. 39. 483 Furnish your nursery vvitli stocks to graff on the following year. Prepare now stocks for all sorts of fruit. The proper ones are, the crab-stock for standards. For dwarfs, stocks of the paradise or sweet apple-kernel, which are likewise to be had from layers and suckers. Pears, on the pear-kernel stock or sucker. Dwarfs, on the suckers of the portugal quince. Cherry standards, on the black cherry-stone stock. Dwarfs for walls or palisades, on the morello stock, black heart, or small, bitter, early cherry-stock. Peaches, inoculate on the peach or plum-stock. If you bud upon the almond, let it be on a stock which has never been removed, and so continue. But the best way to pre|)are these stocks, see in M. de la Quintinyc's Compleat Gard'ner, vol. ii. part vi. p. 1/2, too long here to be inserted. Nectarines, on peach, or pear-plum stock. Abricots, on the white pear-plum stocks. Plums, on plum-stocks. The white and black pear-plum stock are best, and from the stones of damsons, and may all be gotten also from their suckers. Graff the medlar on the white-thorn or quince stock, near the ground, it will bear the second year. Figs and mulberries will be propagated by their suckers, cuttings, and layers; of all which see our Treatise of Earth, for their culture in the nursery. Sow and set early beans and pease till Shrovetide ; and now lay up in your cellars for spending, and for seed, to be transplanted at spring, carrots, parsnips, turnips, cabbages, caulyflowers, &c. Cut off the tops and stalks of asparagus, and cover it with long dung, or make beds to plant in spring, &c. Now, in a dry day, gather your last orchard -fruits. Take up your potatoes for winter spending; there will enough remain for stock, tho' never so exactly gathered *. Ablaqueatlon now profitable, and to visit the roots of old trees, purge * This shows how little the cultivation of this excellent root was understood. 484 the sickly, and apply fresh mould. Cover also your most delicate stone-fruit and murals, skreenlng them with straw-hurdles, as long as the East and Northern winds coritinue, even to the end of March, to be sure of fruit. Stand therefore not so much upon the beauty, as for its preservation and production. Fruits in j)rime, or yet lasting. Apples. — ^The belle-bonne, the william, summer pearmain, lordlng- apple, pear-apple, cardinal, winter chestnut, calvil, shortstart, &c. and some other of the former two last months. Pears. — Messire jean, lord-pear, long bergamot, warden (to bake)*, burnt-cat, sugar-pear, lady-pear, amadot, ambret, ice-pear, dove-pear, virgoule, deadman's pear, winter bergamot, bell- pear, &c. Arbutus, bullis, medlars, services. To he done in the Parterre and Floiuer Garden. Sow auricula seeds thus : prepare very rich earth, more than half dung ; upon that sift some very light sandy mould, and the earth gotten out of old hollow willow trees, and then sow. Set your cases or pans in the sun till March or April. Cover your peeping ranunculus's, &c. And see the advice in March for evergreen seedlings, especially if long snows and bitter winds be feared: prepare, therefore, store of coverings. Now is your best season (the weather open) to plant your fairest tulips in places of shelter, and under espaliers; but let not your earth be too rich. (Vide October.) Transplant ordinary jasmine, &c. About the middle of this month (or sooner if weather require) quite enclose your tender plants, and perennial greens, shrubs, &c. in your conservatory, secluding all entrance of cold, and especially sharp winds ; and if the plants become exceeding dry, and that it do not actually freeze, refresh them sparingly (see April) with qualified water mingled with a little sheep's or cow-dung. If the season prove exceeding * The fifteenth Plate of P. Tempest's " Cryes of the City of London, drawne after the Life," and published in the seventeenth century, represents a female carrying a covered vessel on her head, with these veords subjoined, " Holt bak'd H'ardens holt." 485 piercing, (which you may know by the freezing of a dish of water or moistned cloth, set for that purpose in your greenhouse,) kindle some charcoals, and when they have done smoaking, put them in a hole sunk a little into the floor, about the middle of it ; unless your green- house have a subterranean stove *, which moderately and with judgment temper'd, is much to be preferr'd. In the mean time, I could wish that some curious person would make trial of what we have described at the end of this Kalendar. At all other times, when it does not actually freeze, or the weather not rainy or misty, and that the air is warm'd by the beams of a fine day, (and the sun darts full upon the house, without the least wind stirring, shew them the light through the glass windows, (for light is half their nourishment, philosophically consider'd,) but inclose them again before the sun be gone off, if it be inclin'd to frost, otherwise keep open house all night long. Note, that when, thro' continuance of hard and sharp weather, housed trees grow tainted with mustiness, make fire in your stove, and open all the windows from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon. Then closing the double-shuts, (or chasses rather,) continue a gentle heat, renewing the fire at night only. Note, that you must never give your aloes or sedums one drop of water during the whole winter; and indeed you can hardly be too sparing of water to your hous'd plants (orange-trees especially); the not observing of this, destroys more plants than all the rudenesses of the season. To know when they want refreshing, consider the leaves : if they shrivel and fold up, give them drink; if pale and whitish, they have already too much, and the defect is at the roots, which are in peril of rotting, and require larger cases. Take also this for a rule, that you are not much to regard the surface mould alone, which will oftentimes be dust, when the earth about the roots is sufficiently * The heating of greenhouses by means of stoves was not understood at this period, but in the year 1685 this method is noticed by Evelyn, who writes thus in his Diary, 7th August of that date : " 1 went to see Mr. Wats, keeper of the Apothecaries' Garden of Simples at Chelsea, where there is a collection of innumerable rarities of that sort particularly, besides many rare annuals, the tree bearing Jesuits bark, which had don such wonders in quartan agues. What was very ingenious, was the subterranean heate conveyed by a stove under the conservatory, all vaulted with brick, so as he has the doores and windowes open in the hardest frosts, secluding only the snow." 486 moist; search it, therefore, by thrusting down your hand, and as you find it, govern the watering, for in this secret of seasonably refreshing, consists the health, and even life, of all your hous'd curiosities. Note, that water made over-rich with dung, and too frequently us'd, is apt to infect the orange-leaves, and those of other rare plants, with a black smut, which must be wip'd off. If your aloes grow manifestly too dry, expose them a while to the air, when clear, 'twill immediately recover them; but give them not a drop of water, how dry soever their pots be. House your choicest carnations, or rather set them under a penthouse against a South wall, so as a covering being thrown over them to pre- serve them in extremity of weather, they may yet enjoy the freer air at all other times. Prepare also matrasses, boxes, cases, pots, &c. for shelter to your tender plants and seedlings newly sown, if the weather prove very bitter. Plant roses, althea frutex, lalac, syringas, cytisus, pgeonies, &c. Plant also fibrous roots specified in the precedent month. Sow also stony seeds mentioned in October. Plant all forest-trees for walks, avenues, and groves. Note, that you may transplant not only any fruit trees, but remove almost any of the foresters, even in the midst of summer, if taking the trees up with some mould about the roots, you immediately plunge them into earth made into a pap like mortar, keeping it fresh and under shade, and not suffering the ground quite to dry up and harden till rain comes down. Sweep and cleanse your garden walks, and all other places, from autumnal leaves, the last time. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Anemonies, meadow saffron, antirrhirmm, stock-gilly-flowers, bellis, clematis, pansies, some carnations, double violets, veronica, Spanish and Indian jasmine, myrtles, musk rose, &c. 487 K DECEMBER Hath xxxi days — long, "h 40n>. Sun rises S" 10™ — sets 3'' 50™. To he done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Prune and nail wall-fruit (which yet you may hetter defer a month or two longer), and standard trees that are hardy. You may now plant vines, &c. * Also stocks for graffing, &c. Sow, as yet, pomace of cider-pressings to raise nurseries ; and set all sorts of kernels, stones, &c. Sow for early beans and pease, but take heed of the frosts ; therefore surest to defer it till after Christmas, unless the winter promise very moderate. Expect no fresh sallet but from your hot-bed -f-. All this month you may continue to trench ground, and dung It, to be ready for borders, or the planting of fruit-trees, &c. (See the note in January.) Either late in this month or in January, prune and cut off all your vine shoots to the very root, save one or two of the stoutest, to be left with three or four eyes of young wood. This for the vineyard. Now feed your weak stocks. Turn and refresh your autumnal fruit, lest It taint, and open the windows where It lies, In a clear and serene day. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Roussetlng, pippins, leather-coat, winter reed, chestnut apple, apis, fennel apple, great-belly, the go-no-further, or catshead, with some of the precedent month. Pears. — The squib pear, spindle pear, doyonere, virgin, gascogne bergomot, scarlet pear, stopple pear, vergoules, portail, white, red, and french wardens (to bake or roast), the dead-man's pear, excellent, &c. * See " Discourse of Earth," pp. 14, 26. t See how to make it, and to force asparagus, in M. de la QuiiUinye', vol. ii. part vi. pp. 169, 181. 488 To he done in the Parterre and Floiver Garden. As In January, continue your hostility against vermine. Preserve from too much rain and frost your choicest anemonles, ranunculus's, carnations, &c. Be careful now to keep the doors and windows of your conservatories well matted and guarded from the piercing air ; for your oranges, &c. are now put to the test. Temper the cold with a few charcoal, governed as directed in November ; but never accustom your plants to it, unless the utmost severity of the season require ; therefore, if the place be exquisitely close, they will even then hardly require it. Set bayberries, &c. dropping ripe. Look to your fountain-pipes, and cover them with fresh and warm littler out of the stable, a good thickness, lest the frosts crack them : remember it in time, and the advice will save you both trouble and charge *. Flowers in pynme, or yet lasting. Anemonles (some), perslan and common winter cyclamen, antirrhi- num, black hellebore, laurus-tinus, single primroses, stock-gllly-flo. iris clusii, snow flowers or drops, yucca, &c. For by such a Kalendar it is that a Royal Garden or Plantation may be contrived according to my Lord Verulam's design, pro singidis anni mensihus, for every month of the year. But, because it is in this cold season that our gard'ner is chiefly diligent about preserving his more tender, rare, exotic, and costly shrubs, plants, and flowers, we have thought fit to add the Catalogue as it is (much after this sort) collected to our hands, by the learned and industrious Doctor Sharrock (tho' with some reformation and improve- ment) of all such as, according to their difi^erent natures, do require more or less indulgence. And these we have distributed likewise into the three following classes. * This was one of the expensive and principal ornaments of tlie pleasure-gardens of Evelyn's day, and we cannot but regret that it has so nearly disappeared in this country, since it might fre- quently be introduced so as to add to the charms of the grove, and to the benefit of the parterre. 489 I. CLASSE. Being least patient of cold, and therefore to be first set into the Conservatory, or other ways defended. Acacia eegyptiaca, aloe american. amaranthus tricolor, aspalathus cret. bajsamum, hellchryson, chamelsea trlcoccos, nasturtium Indlcum, Indian narcissus, ornlthogalum arab. ind. phaseol. capsicum Ind. pomum sethlop. aureum splnosum, summer sweet majoran, the two marums syrlac, &c. dactyls, plstaclo's, the great Indian fig, lilac flo. alb. lavendula multlf. clus. cistus ragusseus flo. alb. colutea odorata, cretica, narcissus tuberosus, styrax arbor, &c. II. CLASSE. Endui'ing the second degree of Cold, and accordingly to be secured in the Conservatory. Amomum pllnll, carob. chamela alpestris, cistus ledon. clus. citron, vernal cyclamen, summer purple cyclamen, digitalis, hlspan. geranium trlste, hedysarum clypeatum, aspalathus cretlcus, Spanish jasmine, virgin, jasmine, suza iris, jacobsea marina, alexandrlan laurel, oleanders, llmo- nlum elegans, myrtles, oranges, lentlscus, levantlne tufted narcissus, gill. flo. and choicest carnations, phalangium cretlcum, asiatic double and single ranunculus's, narcissus of japan, cytisus rub. canna Indlca, thymus capltatus, verbena nodi flo. cretica, &c. III. CLASSE. Which, not perishing but in excessive Colds, are therefore to be last set in, or rather protected under mattrasses, and slighter coverings, abroad in the earth, cases, boxes, or pots, Sfc. Abrotanum mas. foem. winter aconite, adianthum verum, bellis hlspan. calceolus marlse, capparis, cineraria, cneorum matthloli, cytisus maran- thse, rub. lunatus, eryngium planum totum cseruleum, fritillaria mont. genista hlspan. flo. alb. pomegranads, orient, jacinth, bulbous iris, laurels, cherry laurel, lychnis (double white), matrlcarla (double flo.) olives, pancratium, papaver spinosiss. marcoc, rosemary, sisyri- chium, tupentine tree, teuchriummas tithymal. myrtifol. veronica 3 R 490 (double flo.), single violets, lavender, serpentaria trlfol. &c. ornithoga- lum arab. (wblte and doub.), narcissus of Constantinople, late pine apples, moly, persian jasmine, opuntia, or the smaller indian fig, jucca, seseli jethiop, agnus castus, malva arborescens, cistus mas. althaea frutex, sarsaparilla, cupressus, crithmum marinum, &c. For to these might innumerable others be added ; but we conceive them sufficient, and more than (we fear) some envious and mercenary gard'ners will thank us for; but they deserve not the name of that com- municative and noble profession. However, this as a specimen of our affection to the publick, and to gratify divers honourable and industri- ous persons, whose inclination to this Innocent toil has made them spare no treasure nor pains for the furniture of their parterres with variety ; the miscarriage whereof being sometimes universal to the curious, has made us the more freely to impart both what we have experimentally learned from our own observations, and from others of undoubted candor and ingenuity. A NEW CONSERVATORY, OR GREEN-HOUSE. 'Tis now after many severe winters observation, both whilst they made use of the ordinary iron stoves, and other inventions, to moderate the sharp air in the Green-house (as they call it), and even since the sub- terranean caliducts have been introduc'd, I often took notice, that tho* the most tender and nicer plants, such as commonly are brought in out of the air, for their preservation (during the rigid frosts and piercing winds), did out-hve and escape those rigorous seasons for the most part, and some of them make considerable advance, producing and maintaining both fruit and flowers ; vet, that even the hardiest among them very rarely pass'd their confinements without sickness, a certain langour or taint, discoverable by their complexions : many of their leaves parch'd about their edges, or falling, dry, and depriv'd of their natural verdure, with other symptoms, which can proceed from no other (so likely) cause, as their being kept from breathing (as I presume to 491 call it) the pure and genuine air, impregnated with its nitrous pabulum, which is not only the nourishment and life of animals, but of all plants and vegetables whatsoever. This, whilst I could not but impute to the consumption of that inspiring balsamick nouriture, by reason of dry heat emitted from the common stoves, pans of charcoal, and other included heaters, which continually prey'd upon, wasted, and vitiated the stagnant and pent-in air, without any due and wholsom succession of a more vital and fresh supply : it came into my thoughts, that there might haply be found out some contrivance whereby to remedy this inconvenience, with con- siderable improvement, and no great charge or difficulty ; if, instead of that imprison'd and effete air within the green- house, there might a constant stream of fresh and untainted be let in and issue out as freely, and that so qualified in its intermediate composition (^which is another consideration I suspend the mentioning at present) as should be very agreeable to the nature and constitution of the several plants that were to pass their hybernation in the green-house. Communicating these thoughts to some of the Royal Society * (not only approving but concurring with the proposal), it produced the fol- lowing Scheme, which I recommend to the curious at adventure, the speculation being, I think, so very rational, and (by some experiments on that element demonstrated) the practice so little chargeable, and the benefit of so great concernment to our gard'ner. In describing this, I shall not need to say any thing concerning the necessary dimensions or ornaments of the structure : every experienc'd gardener will consider, that of whatsoever length his green-house be, the depth should not much exceed twelve or thirteen feet (tho' as our stove is, and may be contriv'd, it may be of much greater capacity), nor the height above ten or eleven at most. That being placed at the most advantageous exposure to the sun, that side be made to open with large and ample windows or chasses (for light itself, next to air, is of wonderful importance), the joints and glazing accurately fitted and cemented. And (to the end that having occasion at any time to go into * Sir Christoplier Wren, and Mr. Hooke. 492 the house, no crude air rush in) I add, that it were convenient a porch were so made that the door of it may shut very close after the gard'ner, before he open the green-house door, which he is to shut again at his going out, before he open the door of the porch at which he entred from abroad. And this may be contriv'd to a small wicket, at the end of the green-house, without being oblig'd to open any of the larger valves and double doors without necessity. This work of the doors, windows, and porch requiring good season'd stuff, and a skilful work- man, I pass to the explanation of the following Table. At one of the ends of the conservatory or green-house ('tis not material whether the East or West) erect on the outside wall your stove, be it of brick, or (which I prefer) of Rygate-stone, built square, of the ordinary size of a plain single furnace, (such as chymists use in their laboratories for common operations,) consistin|r of a fire-hearth and an ash-hole only ; which need not take up above Two feet from out to out. Let it be yet so built that the fire-grate stand about three feet higher than the floor or area of the house. The flue, shaft, fire, and ash-hole, to be without, tho' joining close to the end wall, as in Figure I. which represents the conservatories inside, with the South side quite open, and stove abroad in the air. Note, that in the following Plate or Perspective of the Green-house, Fig. I. D. the stove-pipes at 3 are plac'd a Httle too low and near the grate ; and somewhat too high from it in Fig. 3. c c c ; easily reform'd in the structure of the furnace. 493 FIGURES 1. AND 3, ' The whole Green-house and Fia-nace in Perspective. A. The roof, whether round or flat within. B. The North blind wall. C. The area, or floor within. D. The stove or furnace. 1. The ash-hole. ^Themouths 2. The fire-hearth. J of both to be fitted with doors or plugs, for regulating of the heat. 3. The extremities of certain pipes, passing thorow the brickwork and furnace, and projecting both without and within the house. 4. The funnel or shaft applied to the wall without, which carries up both the smoke of the fuel and ex- hausted air of the green-house, tho- row the air-pipe, &c. 5. The air ground-pipe, laid the whole length of the green-house, in the middle of the floor, a little under the ground or pavement thereof, and reaching from end to end. 6. The hole, or opening at the end of the ground pipe, opposite to the stove end ; which hole is to be left open, or govern'd with its register, to attemper the air, which entring by the furnace-pipes, circulates thro' this to the grate of the stove, and blowing the fire, issues out of the funnel. *^ 7. The thermometer hanging over the nose of the ground-pipe, by which to govern the heat. F. Represents the whole stove, or furnace. a. The ash-hole. b. The fire-grate. c c c. The projection of the air-pipes which pass thorow the furnace and green-house end wall into the house. 494 d d. The air-pipes to be seen as they pass thro' the furnace, e. The funnel, or shaft. yy. Part of the end wall of the green-house, thorow which the air- pipes pass, and project their noses. r/<^a. Fig. 2. — E. Represents the furnace air-pipes, and how they are plac'd to pass thro' the fire and brickwork, with ^the projecture of their noses, to take fresh air from with- out, and carry it into the house. a. The frame, or square of brickwork, on which they lie horizon- tally to receive the heat of the fire. b b b. The air-pipes. c c c. The noses of the pipes projecting beyond the brickwork both without and within. .Sf^ Fig. 4. — G. Represents the ash. hearth. a. The ash-hole. b b. One of the ends of the floor- pipe, turning up, and inserted into the ash hearth, within a little of the grate. c c c c. The ground, or floor pipe, communicating with the inserted pipe b b. d d. The fire-grate. e. The register at the other end of the ground-pipe. Thus the fresh air entring perpetually thorow the heated earthen pipes into the conservatory, and as constantly circulating thorow the orifice of the floor pipe, will give continual supply of qualified air and nutrition to the plants, as far as concerns that element ; and as they are placed nearer or farther from the noses of the stove-pipes, enjoy the several climates and degrees of warmth which shall be found most natural and agreeable to them. The best pipes, and only proper for this purpose, are such as are made of the best crucible-earth ; for should they be of the best cast iron', a too intense heat of seacoal or charcoal fire would indanger their melting. Let, therefore, the fire be rather constant than vehement. 495 I doubt not but one single pipe of competent bore would be as effectual as three or four, which should not be of above inch and half bore. Note, that any sort of fuel whatsoever may be used safely in this stove. I conclude all with a Catalogue of such excellent Fruit-trees, as may direct gentlemen to the choice of that which is good, and store sufficient for a moderate plantation. Species and curiosities being otherwise boundless, and without end. [Note, that (M) signifies mural, or wall fruit ; (S) standard ; (D) dwarf.]] Apples. — Kentish, russet, hoUand, golden (S), and golden russet pippin, pearmain, Loane's permain, hervy-apple, reinet flat (S}, deux- ans, or John, passe-pome, pome apis, cour pendue, calvile of all sorts golden mundi (excellent), july-flower, queen, marigold, winter queening, leather-coat, chesnut, kirkham, cats-head, juniting (red and white, first ripe), codling (Kentish, &c.) red strakes and genet moyle (cider). Pears. — Bonne Chrestienne (M) summer and winter, bergamot (ordinary), bergamot de busy, vergoleuse (excellent), poire a double fleure, windsor sovraigne, green-field, boeurie du roy, ambret, chessom, espine d'yever, petit muscat, petit blanquet, blanquet musque (S), orange bergamot, petit rouslet (excellent), cuisse madame, boudin musque, moulUe en bouche, brute e bonne, king pear, lewes, bezy d'hery, rouslet de rhemes, vert longue, cussolet, rousslet campagne, petit topin, messire jean, araadot, french king, jargonelle, st. andrew (D), ambrosia, vermillan, lunsac, elias rose, calliot rosat, swans egg, musque robin, golden de xaintonge, poire sans pepin, popering, rolling pear of lewes, madera, hampdens bergamot (S), norwlch, Worcester, arundel, lewes warden (best without compare), dove, squib, stopple, deadmans (S), winter musque, chesil, Catherine (red, king), sugar, lording; red squash, bosbery, and watford (for perry). Quinces. — Portugal, brunswick, barbery. Peaches and Nectarins. — Admirable (M), alberge. Sir H. Capels, alberge (small yellow), almond violet, bourdin, belle cheuv- reuse, elruge nectarin (excellent), maudlin, mignon, morella, musque 496 violet, murry nectarln, red roman uectarin, nutmeg (white, red), man peach, newlngton (excellent), persique, rambullion, syon (excellent), Orleans, savoy mala cotton, &c. Abricots. — Musk abrlcot, bishop of london, fulham (excellent) (M), orange, great bearer, or ordinary. I^L,UM3. — Perdrigon (white, blue), primordial, reine claud (S), and mirabel, white nutmeg (M), pear-plum (white, black), peasecod, prune de I'isle vert, damasq. violet date, Catharine, date (S) white, damazeene, damson (white, black), muscle, chessom, imperial, jane, saint Julian, queen-mother, morocco, bullas (white, black). Figs. — Scio (M) white and purple, blue (D), yellow, dwarf. Cherries. — Carnation (D), Hartlib, duke flander (S), and kentlsh, black cherry of Sir William Temple (M), black heart (true), black Orleans, great bearer, duke, luke ward, morocco, prince royal, petworth amber, croone, bleeding heart, may cherry, begareux, egrlot, guynnes, cluster, cologne, Darking wild cherry for wine, excellent. Vines. — Amboise, fi-ontinac(grizlin excellent, white excellent, blue), burgundian grape, early blue, muscatell (black, white excellent), morillon, chassela, cluster grape, parsley, raisin, bursarobe, burlet, corlnth, large verjuice (excellent for sauces and salleting). Gooseberries. — Crystal, amber great, early red, engllsh and great yellow. CoRiNTHS. — White and red (English, Dutch), black (medicinal). Raspis. — White and red (large), black (wild). Mulberries. — Black or red, white Virginia, for the silkworm. Berberries. — Great berberry, berberry, without stones. Strawberries. — Common wood, engllsh garden, amerlcan or vlr- ginlan, polonlan, white coped, long red, the green strawberry, scar- let, &c. Medlars. — The great dutch, neapolitan, and one without stones. Services*. — Wild, pear sorb, azerole. * This fruit, which is a native of England, is now as little known, and as rare in the London market, as the fruits of the most distant parts of the world ; and the service-berry tree is now so thinly scattered over the country, that many farmers do not even know its existence. 497 Walnuts. — The early, great double, tender scull and hard, bird-nut. Filberts. — White and red avelans, large hasel, long, thin, and great round nuts. CoRNELioNS. — White, red, &c. Most of which, and innumerable more, dispers'd (for most part) after the several months in the foregoing Kalendar, were here recited for such as will be contented with a confin'd and choice furniture for their plantations. And such as would not be impos'd upon, will find the best ware and dealing at Brampton Park near Chelsey, cultivated by Mr. Wise, and the joint direction of that excellent gard'ner Mr. London, worthy of his royal title. A Letter from Sir Dudley Cullum * to John Evelyn, Esq. con- cerning the lately invented Stove for the Preser'vation of tender Plants and Trees in the Green-house during TVinter ; formerly 2nihlished in the Phil. Trans. T^ol. xviii. No. 212. «. 191. Sir, I cannot but think my self oblig'd in gratitude to give you an account how well your lately invented Stove for a Green-house succeeds (by the experiment I have had of it), which certainly has more perfec- tion than ever yet art was before master of. Sir, I have pursu'd your directions in laying my pipes (made of crucible earth), not too near the * Eldest son of Sir Thomas Cullum, Bart, of Hawsted, co. Suffolk. He was educated at Bury school, from whence he removed to St. John's College, Cambridge in 1675. On the death of his father, he resided chiefly at his family seat, being remarkably fond of his garden, into which he introduced most of the curious exotics then known in England ; and speaks in particular, in 1694, of his orange-trees, which were then much less common here than at present, as thriving in the most luxuriant manner. His green-house was .'iS feet long, 14 feet wide, and 10 feet high. He corresponded with the philosophic gardener and planter, Mr. Evelyn, who directed his botani- cal pursuits, and whose stove for the preservation of green-house plants he adopted. He died without issue in 1720. See the Rev. Sir John Cullum's Hist, and Antiq. of Hawsted and Hardwick, 4to. 1813. 3s 498 fire-grate, which is nigh upon or better than sixteen inches ; and by making a trench the whole length of my house, under the paving (for the air to issue out and blow the fire), of a convenient breadth and depth (that is, eighteen inches both ways, cover'd with an arch of bricks), and at the other end of the trench, having a square iron plate answerable to that of my paving (which is eighteen inches), to take off and put on, with a round hole at the corner, of abovit three inches diameter, with a lid to slide open and shut, upon every end of them, as you may have seen upon some porridge-pot covers ; so that by opening anv of these holes, or all of them, more or less, or taking off the whole plate, I can release such a quantity of air out of the house to blow the fire, so, as to increase or diminish the blasts; and, as you were pleas'd by letter to inform me concerning distributing the air at its admission more equally thro' the house, I have inserted my pipes into a channel all along the wall, at the end of the house, with those several overtures you mention'd. All which. Sir, I assure you, prove most admirably well ; and by which free and generous communication of yours, you have most highly oblig'd all the lovers of this hortulan curiosity and recreation, as well as. Sir, Your most faithful and humble Servant, D. CuiXUBI. 499 DEDICATORY EPISTLE TO THE MYSTERY OF JESUITISM. The following dedicatory Epistle Is attached to a presentation copy of the " Mysterlon ton Anomlas, or another Part of the Mystery of Jesuitism," Lond. 1664, 12mo. preserved In the British Museum, and to which the following manuscript note Is prefixed on a fly-leaf, bv which Evelyn's connection with the work Is sufficiently Identified: "For my most honor'd friend the hon'^'*^ S"^ Hen. Herbert, from his most humble servant, J. Euelyn." To my most honoured Friend from whom I received the Copy. Sir, — I transmit you here the French Copy which you were pleased to consign to me, and with It the best effects of your Injunction that my weak talent was able to reach to ; but with a zeal so much the more propense, as I judged the publication might concern the world of those miserably- abused persons who resign themselves to the conduct of those bold Impos- tors, and who may Indeed be said to be what the Athenians mistook St. Paul for, s,ivuiv AuifAovtuv KxruyyeXsig, Setters forth of strange Gods*, as well as of strange and unheard-of doctrines, whilst they take upon them thus to attribute as much to Dominus Deus Papa-f, their Lord God the Pope, as to God Almighty himself. I stand amaz'd that a Church which pre- tends so much to purltle, and that is so furious against the least dissenters to her novelties amongst Protestants, should suffer such swarms of impure Insects amongst themselves ; lest these cancerous members (In- stead of edifying the Church and conducting consciences) eat out, In fine, the very heart and vitals of the common Christianity. For my part, after I have seen what Mr. White has lately publish'd J concern- ing the method of the Roman Court In her decrees, and of her rare * 17 Acts xviii. f Gloss, in Extr. Jo. c. 22. de verborum signif. X Extasis sive Tho. Albii Purgatio. 500 ability to discern as he there affords us the prospect, I have no great reason to hope for any redress of these enormities : and then to what a monstrous g-routh this head is like to arrive, let all the world com- pute by the strange pretences of these audacious sycophants. Nor let any man wonder how those other errors are crept into their religion, who in a day of so universal light permit such pernicious doctrines to be publickly asserted, to the dishonour of our B. Lord, the scandal of his beloved Spouse, and the hlnderance of that glorious Unity, which none do more earnestly breathe after then he who subscribes himself. Sir, your most humble and most obedient Servant, 21 Sept. 1664. 1665. 2d Jan. This day was publish'd that part of " The Mysterie of Jesuitism*" translated and collected by me, tho' without my name, containing the imaginarie heresy, with 4 Letters, and other pieces. 25th Jan. This night being at Whitehall, his Ma*> came to me standing in the withdrawing roome, and gave me thanks for publishing " the Mysterie of Jesuitism," which he said he had carried two days in his pocket, read it, and encouraged me, at which I did not a little wonder : 1 suppose Sir Robert Morray had given it to him. See Memoirs, vol. 1. pp. 354, 355 ; and vol. II. p. 100. Also, 1 March, 1666, we find the following notice : Gave his Ma*> my book, intltl'd, "The pernicious Consequences of the new- Heresy of the Jesuits against Kings and States." * In the library at Wotton there are three volumes, in duodecimo, upon this subject, uni- formly bound in morocco, viz. 1. "Les Provinciales, or the Myster)- of Jesuitisme, discovered in certain Letters written upon occasion of the present difference at Sorbonne between the Jansenists and the Molinists, displaying the pernicious maxims of the late Casuists." Second Edition, 1658. 2. The volume to which the foregoing Dedication is affixed is entitled, " MuTrnfiov t«j 'AwjjlIxc, that is, Another Part of the Mystery of Jesuitism, or the new Heresie of the Jesuites, publickly maintained at Paris, in the College of Clermont, the xii of December, 1661, declared to all the Bishops of France, 1664." In a Letter to Lord Cornbury, dated 9th Feb. 1664, Mr. Evelyn states that he undertook the translation of this second part, by command of his Lordship and his father, the Chancellor (Clarendon). 3. " The Moral Practice of the Jesuites, demonstrated by many remarkable Histories of their Actions in al! Parts of the World: collected either from books of the greatest authority, or most certain and unquestionable records and memorials.'" This volume was translated by Di'. Tongue for Mr. Evelyn, and was printed in 1670. PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT, AND AN ACTIVE LIFE, WITH ALL ITS APPANAGES, ^ttdj a^ Jrame, Commanb, Jfticl^e^, €ontier!Sation, (jr. PREFER' D TO SOLITUDE; IN REPLY TO A LATE INGENIOUS ESSAY OF A CONTRARY TITLE. By J. E. Esq. S.R.S. "AvOpioiros $uioi' iroXtTiKoy. Aeist. 1. PoLIT. Excute istos, qui quae cupiere deplorant, et de earum rerum loquuntur fuga quibus carere non possunt : videbis voluntariara esse illis in eo moram, quod aegrfe ferre ipsos et miseri; loquuntur. Sen. Ep. xxii. LONDON: PRINTED BY J. M. FOR II. HERRINGMAN, AT THE SIGN OF THE BLEW ANCHOR, IN THE LOWER WALK OF THE NEW EXCHANGE. 1667. The volume to which the following reprint is an answer, was the production of Sir George Mackenzie, of Rosehaugh, King's Advocate for Scotland, whose numerous works were published with his life at Edinburgh in 1716 — 1722, in two volumes folio, and was entitled " a Moral Essay upon Solitude, preferring it to Publick Employment and all its Appendages, such as Fame, Command, Riches, Pleasures, Conversation, &c." Edinb. 1665, 8vo. reprinted in London l685 and 1693, 12mo. 503 Notwithstanding the asperity which is usually supposed to be attached to literary and philosophical disputes ; and although the ensuing Tract is not deficient of good-humoured and gentlemanly satire, yet the annexed Letters, now first printed from the originals in the Editor's possession, which passed between Sir George Mackenzie and his amiable opponent, shew how little of the spirit of angry dispu- tation was to be found within the breast of either. Sij- George Mackenzie to John Evelyn. Sir, " ' 5 Mart. I667. Iff yee had not bryb'd mee with too much compliment (wherby I am becom incapable to be a judge of these your abilities, which wer for- merlie too great to be subject to my censure), I had assur'd you that your book is rarely weel writ, and yet yee have shew'd more kyndnesse to morall philosophle, in introducing this civill way of replying, then I have in pleading for these recesses to which philosophle is so oblldg'd. It is strange for ane opposit to shew no passion hot that of kyndnesse, and yee compliment mee to such ane excesse beyond my merit, that I begin to be jealouse that yee magnifie mee only to shew how easilie yee canne vanquish such as deserve praise, and that yee thus attire mee in these titles as the Romans did ther prisoners with riche robbes, that therby they might adorne so much the more these ther triumphs, to which they were destinat as trophees. But, Sir, without enquyring too superstitluslle into your designs, I shall resolve to returne you no other answer besyds this ; and to evidence how much I am prosellted by your booke, I resolve to continue in employment, but I hope not so longe as I shall In the resolution of bearing the name and inclinations of Deare Sir, Your most humble Servant, Geo. Mackenzie. For my honoured friend Master Eveline. Thus endorsed by J. Evelyn : " S' Geo. Mackenzie, 5 Mar. I667, Edenburg, vpon my reply to his booke." 504 J. Evelyn's jdnstver-. I had often repented me of the faults you have forgiuen, that is, of my whole booke, 'til this most cluil letf", which I now receiu'd from you by the favour of S"^ R. Muray : because I find, but for that attempt, I had not receiv'd the honour you have don me, by the notice you are pleased to take of y' servant, nor ben so fully assur'd that my hand did not erre, when to describe y'' character it assembled all those perfections which make up a consum'ate vertue. S% upon y"' acc'pt, I do justifie a victory, and a triumph too, w* no vulgar ambition : but it is to see the acquisition I have made, and to assure you that I will use it with all the modesty and deference which becomes me to a person so infinitely obliging as you are to, S"^, Y% &c. Loud. 15 3Iar. ^ Ev^ly^. 505 TO THE HON. SIR RICHARD BROWNE, Kt. and Bart. LATE RESIDENT AT THE COURT OF FRANCE FOR THEIR MAJESTIES OF GREAT BRITAIN, CHARLES I. AND It., GENTLEMAN OF THE PRIVY-CHAMBER, AND ONE OF THE CLERKS OF HIS MAJESTIES MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY-COUNCIL, MY MOST HONOURED FATHER-IN-LAW. Sir, I AM bold to present this liberal discourse with the greater confidence to you, because, you alone being witness with how little application I have been able to frame it (importuned as I was by several avocations), it may with the better grace presume upon your indulgence ; there is this only which I have infinite cause to regret, that the tenuity of the oblation bears so little proportion to the duty, and the service which I owe you ; but, though I might happily have oppressed you with a larger volume, I could not with a more illustrious and becoming argu- ment ; nor indeed, made choice of a fitter arbiter than yourself to deter- mine between us, who have passed so much of your time in the public service of your Prince and Country, and in a period when a less steady virtue must have succumbed under your temptations. With what fide- lity and success you discharged that Ministry, and how honourably you supported the change during the nineteen years space of your honour- able character abroad, I leave others to report, and to the great and most illustrious persons of this nation, whose loyalties mingle their glori- ous misfortunes with yours : I say nothing of your hospitality, and of the civility of your house, which cannot but be gratefully recounted by as many as have made any stay at Paris, and that shall consider the circumstances of those lessnlng times : and your modesty since your Royal Master's most signal Restauration, has made it appear, that you served him without designe, as esteeming your whole fortune a sacrifice too cheap, to preserve the dignity of a charge in which his Majesties 3t 506 reputation was concerned. I might here mention the constant asylum which the persecuted Clergy found within your walls upon all occasions, because I have seen the instances, and have heard them frequently ac- knowledged both to yourself, and to your most excellent lady, when your Chappel was the Church of England in her most glorious estate, at least in the account of Heaven ; for she was then the most perse- cuted Church in the world; but this is already recorded by better * pens. Shall I descend to your other noble and more personal qualifications ? That amidst your busie employments for the concern of States, and the interest of Kingdomes, you still held correspondence with the Muses, and conversation w''' letters ; so as what others know but at a great distance, and by reflection only, you derive from the fountaines them- selves, and have beheld what has pass'd in the world from the very summit of Olympus : thus Xenophon, Thycidides, Polybius, Caesar, and Taci- tus, conceal nothing from you who are a critic both in the Greek and the Latine tongues, as well as in all the modern languages : to these I might add the sweetness and comity -f of your disposition, the temper of your customes, the sedatenesse of your mind, your infinite contempt of vanity and gilded appearances ; and, in short, all those perfections which are the result of a consummate experience, a prudent and just estimation of the vicissitude of things : but I am first to beg pardon for this attempt on your modesty, or rather indeed for this imperfect description of your virtues : but, Sir, I pretend not to oblige you by your character, but the * Sir, the benediction the Doctor gives to you and yours, in allusion to that which issued from the Ark to Obed. Edoms house, I have a particular obligation to suffrage in, &c. The publick exercise of our Liturgy, is the antitype we reflect upon, which, by God's singular indulgence to you, hath, when chaced out of the Temple took refuge in your house ; so that we have been forced many times to argue from your oratory for a visibility of our Church ; your easie admission of me to officiate in it for some moneths, and your endeavours to have such an esta- blishment for me, as whereby, in the most difficult of times, I might have had a comfortable sub- sistence, and a safe protection under your sacred roof, beside the other graces and civilities I had from you, exact this open retribution of my thanks, &c. to you, whose name and memory must be ever venerable to the English Clergy, as your person hath been most obliging to many of us, &c. See Richard Watson, in his Epist. Dedicat. before Dr. Basiers Treatise of the Aniient Liberty of the Britannick Church, and exemption thereof from the Roman Patriarchate, &c. Printed Ivond. 1661. t Courtesy, civility, good breeding, from the Latin comitca. 507 publick by your example ; and If that have been the chief design of this httle piece to declare it to the world, I attain my purpose. You have obliged me with many signal kindnesses, with a continu'd affec- tion, a profitable and noble conversation, and in a word, with all these in one, with an excellent wife, to make this just acknowledgement, and to subscribe myself. Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, and Son-in-Law, Says-Court, J. Evelyn. Feb. 5, \6m-7. TO THE READER. I HAVE this request to make, and this account to give of the ensuing Discourse ; that, as it was but the effects of a very few hours, a cursory pen, and almost but of a sitting, the Reader will be favourable in his suffrage, and not hastily pronounce against the merits of the cause. I do not speak this tojustifie my discretion, that being conscious of my defects, I would presume to engage : let me be look't on but as the forelorn, who though resign'd for lost, do service in the day of battel, and lead on the rest : I dare assure the most instructed for fight, that it will be no disgrace to be o'erthrown by such an hero ; who, if I discern rightly of his spirit by that of his style, is too generous to insult over the van- quish'd ; and it will be no shame to resigne our arms. I ingenuously acknowledge, that amongst so many pens as the writ- ers of this age employ, I find not many that are better cut. On the other side, it must be granted, that he has all the topics and discourses of almost all the Philosophers who ever writ; and that, whilst he de- clares for solitude, I am forc'd to tread the most unfrequented and soli- tary paths ; and if for that reason I have not obllg'd myself to the exactest method, I have yet pursu'd my antagonist, rightly paraff 'd and compar'd, who has himself laid down and resum'd as pleas'd him ; nor in these proluslve and oratorious contentions, is the liberty without o-ood example : but that which would best of all justifie me, and the seeming 508 isicoherencies of some parts of my discourse, would be the nohle authors piece it self, because of the antithesis and the forms of his applications. But, as I said, I do not pretend to laurels and palms, but to provoke some stronger party to undertake our aggressor. The war is innocent, and I would be glad this way of velitation* and short discourses upon all arguments, in which other languages greatly outdo us, might exercise our reasons, and improve the English style, which yet wants the culture of our more Southern neighbours, and to be redeem'd from the province, without wholly resigning it to the pulpits and the theatre, to the neglect of those other advantages which made the Romans as famous for their eloquence as for their armes, and enabl'd them to subdue more with their tonjrues then with their swords. . Let us consider it was but their native language, which they familiarly us'd, and brought to that per- fection ; and that there is nothing so course and stubborn but is polished by art. This ingenious stranger for some expressions and some words (yet apt, and well inserted), perswade me he is so (though a subject of his Majesties), will justifie what I aim at; and the felicity which we have of gracefully adopting so many languages and idioms into our own, frustrates all pretences of not infinitely improving it. This was once the desio-n of the Royal Society ; and as it was worthy their thoughts, so I hope they will resume it. I add not this, as presuming my self to have attain'd the most vulgar talent of this kind ; my business has been only the vindication of an oppress'd subject, and to do honour to em- ployment. In the mean time, 'twere pretty, if at last it should appear that a public person has all this while contended for solitude, as it is certain a private has done for action ; but as I perswade myself, if it be so, he has power to retreat from business ; I protest I have not the least inclination to it, though for want of a better, I have undertaken this. The gentleman is pleas'd to call his book but an Essay ; mine hardly pretends to so much ; which makes me presume he will not judge me uncivil, nor take any thing I have said in ill part, the nature of this * Quarrelling or disputing with words, from the Latin velilatio. 509 war consider'd. But if he shall esteem it so important, and think fit to rejoyn, I so far promise to assert his cause, and the just conceptions I have of his rare abilities, that though I would willingly incite some bet- ter pen to wait on him, that I may still enjoy the diversion and benefit of his discourses, I will for ever be silent my self, and after all I have said here to the contrary, prefer his Solitude. J. E. 510 PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT, &c. PREFERR'D TO SOLITUDE*. It was an ill omen to the success of his argument, that in ipso limine, the very threshold of his Essay, he should think to establish it upon so wide a mistake as what is derived from the sense of an impious poet, and the sentences of a few philosophers ; insinuating, by the uncon- cerned and inactive life of Him who gives life and activity to all beings, that to resemble God (^wherein consists our greatest perfection} we should sit still and do nothing. Dissolvitur autem religio, si credamus Epicuro ilia dicenti\. Be this our faith, says Lactantius, and farewell religion : and if Memmius be persuaded to gratifie his ease by being made to believe that the supreme Arbiters of our actions would take little notice of them, it was no conclusion to the more illuminated Christian, that, to approach the tranquillity of the Deity, men should pursue their ease, or hide their talents in a napkin. God is always so full of employment, that the most accurate definers of him stile him to be actus puriis, to denote his eternal and incomprehensible activity, creating, preserving, and governing; alwaies doing justice and giving laws, rewarding the virtuous, and defending the innocent. For what Cicero affirms of the philosophic life, relates to their science, not their solitude ; and so, indeed, the conscience of our duty, joined with our performance of it, renders us like our Maker, and therefore rightly in- ferred by Plutarch, that the lives of great persons should resemble that of the gods, who delight in such actions as proceed from beneficence, and doing good to others ; since the contemplation of it alone was supe- rior to all other satisfactions. But what if the same Cicero tell us in another place, that those who do nothing considerable in this world are * " Feb. 1667. My 'Answer to Sir George Mackenzie on Solitude' was published, intitled, 'Public Employment, and an active Life, with all its Appanages, preferred to Solitude'." Diary, vol. I. 381. In a Letter to A. Cowley, dated 12th March 1666, printed in the second volume of Memoirs, p. 227, he apologizes for becoming an advocate for that life which he had joined with Mr. Cowley in so much admiring, assuring him he neither was nor could be serious. t De jri Dei, c. 8. 511 to be reputed but as so many dead men in it ? Mihi enim qui nihil agit, esse omnino non videtur, says he * ; and what is yet more remark- able, as it is opposed to what he seems to press from the lazy deity of Epicurus : certainly God that would not permit the world it self to remain in idea only, but published and brought it forth to light by the very noblest of all his actions (for such was its ecjucing out of nothing), and that of seven whole days and nights -f- reposed but one himself, and has been ever since preserving and governing what he made, shews us by this, and by the continual motion of the stars, and revolutions of the heavenly bodies, that to reseml)le him (which is the sum of felicity) we should alwaies be in action, and that there is nothing more agreeable to his nature. If we have recourse to the mystic theology of the antients, we shall find there also, that even Minerva could not conceive without the operations of Vulcan, which signifies labour and the active life, no more than Jupiter himself; and that Hercules was not admitted into the ccelestial courts, 'till he had first produc'd the trophies of his heroic atchievements. To all this the mythology of the heathens refer ; and therefore, doubtless, if beatitude be our summum bonuin (as all consent it to be), 'twas well said of the philosopher, svScci[^ovi(x. Ts-gu^ig ernv, that beati- tude was action '^, and that action, by way of transcendancy, was proper only to man. But to pursue the method of our ingenious author. Whilst he is thus eloquently declaiming against public employment, fame, command, riches, pleasure, conversation, and all the topics of his frontispiece, and would perswade us wholly to retire from the active world, why is he at all concern'd with the empty breath of fame, and so very fond of it, that without remembering the known saying, Nemo eodem tempore assequi potest magnam fammn, Sf magnam quietem, would have men celebrated for doing nothing ? Verily, there is more of ambition and empty glory in some solitudes, and affected retreats, than in the most exposed and conspicuous actions whatsoever. Ambition is not only in public places, and pompous circumstances, but at home, and in the interior life ; heremlts themselves are not recluse enough to seclude that * Cicero de Nat. Deoruin, Lib. 2. t Gen. eh. 2. verse 2. X Arist. 7. de Repub. c. 3. Ethic. 1. 1. c. 12. 512 subtle spirit — vanity * : Gloriari otio iners amhitio est : 'tis a most idle ambition to vaunt of idleness, and but a meer boast to lie concealed too apparently, since it does but proclaim a desire of being observed. Wouldst thou be indeed retir'd, says the philosopher, let no man know it. Ambition is never buried ; repress'd it may be, not extinguish'd. Neocles, brother to Epicurus, as Suidas tells us, was the father of that wary expression, Latenter esse vivendum, whence Balzac assumed it. What says Plutarch ? Even he that said it, said it that he might be known. I will not add how severely he pursues it (because our author may be concern'd, that a second impression has, I'm told, trans- mitted us his name), but if it be the property of those who are exces- sively ambitious themselves to redargue f the glory and dignity of their corrivals, that they alone may possess It, the resemblance was not inept, which compar'd those decriers of public employment to the slaves In gallies J, whose faces are averse from the place to which they tend, and advance forward whilst they seem to go backwards. That which ren- ders public employment culpable Is, that many affect greatness, few virtue, for which honours are alone desirable ; be good and you cannot be too popular, community makes it better ; for permit me to affirm, that there Is an honourable and noble ambition, and nothing, I think, which more distinguishes man from brutes, their low and useless ape- tites ; whilest this p^cpoifyu^ta, this despising of glory, is the mother of sloth, and of all unworthy actions ; well, therefore, did the philosopher assign Its contrary, magnanimity §, and even some sort of ambition too, a kind of rank amongst the virtues ; and we know contemjitus famce, contemni virtutes, and that even life It self (if the circumstances be handsome) will be parted withal to preserve It. But let us suppose the motives why men pursue greatness to be some of the particulars here enumerated ; may we not as well affirm Celador flies It for the appendant burthen, and because 'tis expensive, out of closeness and avarice, humour, or want of ability ? Some grow sullen and peevish that they be not advanc'd ; others are naturally hypocon- * Sen. Ep. 78. t To refute, from the Latin redarguo. J Plut. § ^syaXolux'a. Eth ad Eud. c. 5. 513 drlacs and saturnine, tempers of the basest aloy. But when opulent and great persons (says he) undertake publick charges, the very rabble have so much of prudence as to condemn them for mad ; when philo- sophers, they serve their country, not their inclinations, &c. None, indeed, but the rabble make that judgment ; for, being commonly mad, they think all others like themselves ; and when philosophers pretend it, it seems by him they cease to be philosophers, and then 'tis no matter what they say. The truth is, men then begin to praise retirement, when either no longer vigorous and capable to act, that their spirits and bodies fail, through age, infirmity, and decay of senses, or when they cannot otherwise attain to what they aspire ; which sufficiently justifies the preference of employment, since to be thus happy they must first begin to dote. Nor does the merchant traffick so dearly for solitude, but for his ease, and the difference is wide between them. If to be owner of a stately house, to be bravelv furnish'd, to have a fair lady, a rich coach, and noble retinue ; if to eat good meat, drink the most generous wine, and make more noise amidst his jolly friends than ever he did either at sea or the camp, be a merchants or a souldiers soli- tude, who would not desire the pretty retreat which he describes ? For this (I take it) 'tis that both merchants plow the seas, that lawyers break their brains, and souldiers fight battels ; in sum, to live at ease and splendidly, who before, and whilest employ'd, were the pillars and ornaments of their country. When Caesar is brought for an instance, aliquando licehit mihi vivere, were it possible to wrest it to the sense of this argument, it ought yet so far to disswade us from the pursuit of his example, as 'tis perfectly opposite to an evangelical, as well as moral position. No man (salth St. Paul) liveth to himself*. No man, says Cicero is born for himself. Certainly the great Augustus had learn'd that lesson too well to affect repose for himself only, or with an Inten- tion to relax the excellent government which rendred that age of his so happy above others. He knew justice and fortitude were active vertues, and that princes are shepherds, whose function 'tis not to play all day on the pipe, and make love to Amarillis, but to attend to the good of their * Rom. xiv. 7. 3 u 514 flock. Nor, indeed, should they trifle their hours in giving audience to boufFoons, or sport with apes. Would it become an Emperor, who should march before legions, and give laws to kingdoms, to play with cockle-shells, or be stabbing flyes when Ambassadors are attending him, as Domitian did ? For what can this mild vivere less signifie in a Prince, whose greatest glory proceeds from actions, profitable and publick, and to live for others, such as renown'd the memory of this gallant hero ? whilest the rest, abandoning themselves to ease, effemi- nacy, and phantastique pleasures (like Tiberius in his Caprice^, became the pity of their age, and the subjects of tragedy and satyr. Caesar, then, breath'd after retirement for relaxation only, and that he might revert to his charge with the more courage and vigour. Thus Scipio and Leelius went apart, thus Cicero and Varro, and not to sing verses to the forests and rocks, and dialogize with echoes, the entertainments of solitude. Neither does he less erre in preferring it to publick busi- ness in respect of dignity, seeing that which takes care for the being of so many societies, is infinitely more honourable than what has only re- gard to it self; and if his logic hold, quod ejjicit tale, est magis tale, those are most to be reputed happy who render others so, since God and nature come under the consideration. Could his happy man remain in that desirable estate without the active lives of others to protect him from rapine, feed and supply hira with bread, cloaths, and decent neces- saries ? For 'tis a grand mistake to conceive that none are employ'd but such as are all day on horse-back, fighting battels, or sitting in tribunals. What think you of plowmen and artificers ? nay, the labours of the brain, that excogitates new arts, and produce so many useful things for humane society, opposed to our gentleman-hawker and hunter, who rises so early, and takes so much pains to so little purpose ? A good architect may, without great motion, operate more than all the inferior workmen who toil in the quarries, and dip their hands in mortar. And when the historian had summ'd up a world of * gallant persons who fought bravely for their country, he did not esteem those to be less honourably employed who serv'd it by their counsel. The commonwealth * EiVi; dia yvwwn; utrnji rma;, t»TE ^i' oirXwj. iElian. 515 is an assembly regulated by active laws, malntain'd by commerce, dis- ciplin'd by vertue, cultivated by arts, wbich would fall to universal con- fusion and solitude indeed, without continual care and publick inten- dency; and he that governs as he ought, is master of a good trade, in the best of poets sense as well as mine : Strive thou, brave Roman, how to govern well. Be these the arts in which thou dost excell ; Subjects to spare, and the bold rebels quell *. For when Epicurus (who chose the private life above all) discourses of publick ministers, he is forc'd to acknowledge that to be at helme is better than lying along in the ship ; not as 'tis indeed more honourable and conspicuous alone, but because 'tis more noble beneficiiim dare quam accipere ; and the sentence is of God as well as man; for so the Apostle -f-, it is more blessed to give than to receive. But 'tis not for nothing that patron of the idle does now and then so much celebrate action, and public employment ; since unless salva Jit resjmblica, the commonwealth be secure, even the slothful man himself cannot enjoy his sloth. We may with more justice condemn the ambition of Pyrrhus than derive any advantage from his reply. For my part I think we are obliged to those glorious conquerors for the repose, knowledge, and morality they have imparted to us ; when, but for their atchievements and heroic actions, more than half the world had still remained barba- rous, and the universe but one vast solitude indeed. The activity of men does best cover their frailties : arts and industry having supplyed that which nature had denyed us ; and if felicity consist in perfection, cer- tainly whatever makes us to approch it neerest, renders us most happy. But his wise-mans wit consists, it seems, in repute only. / had rather be wise than so reputed; and then this is no more advantage to Soli- tude than the melancholy and silence he speaks of; the one being the basest of humors, and the other the most averse from instruction, which is the parent of virtue ; whilst felicity in this article appears the result of * /En. 6. Tu regere'imperio populos t Acts xx. 35. 516 cheat and imposture, and in making men seem what indeed they are not ; whereas active persons produce themselves to the world, and are sooner to be judged what they are by what they do, according to that well known test, officium indicat virum. As therefore truth is prefer- able to hypocrisie, so is employment before this solitude. Had he affirm'd peace was better than war, he had gain'd my suffrage almost to an unjust one ; but whilst his antitheta are Solitude and Employment to state the period of felicity, he as widely mistakes, as one that should affirm from the text, that the milk and honey of Canaan dropp'd into the mouths of the Israelites without a stroke for it ; whilst it cost so many years travels in the desert, and bloody battels, and that the wisest and happiest men in it, were the most active and the most employed. To instance in the passion of statesmen breathing after self-enjoy- ment, and that to possess it a moment, they are even ready to disoblige their dearest interest, is not certainly to commend retirement, but declaim against it. Had David been well employed, fair Bathsheba had washed in her garden securely, and poor Uriah outlived many a hard siege. 'Tis an old saying and a true one, Quern Diabolus non invenit occupaticm, ipse occupat, the Devil never leaves the idle unbusied ; but if nature, in- clination, and pleasure vote (as is pretended) for Solitude, even the most contemplative men will tell us, as well as philosophers and divines, that nature is deprav'd, inclination propense to evil ; and pleasure itself, if not simply evil, no moral virtue. Publick employment is not unnatural in its ascent, for there are degrees and methods to it ; but if ambitious men will needs leap when they may safely walk, gr run themselves out of breath when they may take time and consider, the fault is not in the steps but in the intemperance of the person. Those who indeed arrive to greatness by their vices, sit in slippery places, whilst virtue only is able to secure her favourites ; and in these sublunar orbs, if men continue humble and govern their passions amidst the temptations of pride and insolence; if they remain generous, chast, and patient against all the assaults of avarice, dissolution, and the importunity of clients ; how does such a person's example improve the world, illustrate and adorn his station ? how infinitely exceed the miser's diamond and all his tinsell, which shines indeed, but is lock'd up In the dark, and hke a candle is set 517 under a bushell ? Men of parts should produce their talents, and not enclosing themselves as conjurors within their circles, raise a thousand melancholy devils that pervert their abilities, and render them, if not dangerous, useless to their generation. Anaxagoras was a wary person, yet he conversed with Pericles ; Plato with Dion ; Panetius with Scipio ; Cato with Athenodorus, and Pythagoras with all the world. Would Philosophers be more active and Socratical, Princes and great men would become philosophers, and states consummately happy ; you know who said it. The truth is, ' a wise man is a perpetual magistrate *,' and never a private person ; not one city or place, but the world is his domi- nion ; whilst those who introduce the example of Dioclesian and the Fifth Charles, to justifie the honour and delices of Retirement, take for the one a proscribed Prince, whose former tyrannies had deprived him of a kingdom, and his fears of a resumption ; and for the other a decrepid old Emperor, whose hands were so unable to manage a scepter, that, as one tells us, he had not strength enough to open a letter ; not to insist on his other infirmities and suspicion which induc'd the more impartial historians to write ; he did it plainly to prevent an ungrateful violence ; or (as others) out of indignation to see himself so far out- done by our English Harry -j-. Whatever motive it were (for there are more assign'd}, so far was this felicity from smiling on those who acted the scene, that the very grimaces of fortune alone so affrighted them from society and the publick, as to unking themselves whilst they were living. I will say nothing of another pageantry resembling this, which has happened in our own times; because the frailty of the sex carries more of excuse with it. But it seems no retreat can secure greatness from the censures and revenge of those they have once injured ; and therefore even Solitude it self is not the asylum pretended. But that which can best protect us is, and that certainly is, grandeur, as more out of reach, and neerest to Olympus top. iEleas, the king of Scythia, was wont to say ingenuously, that whilst he was doing nothing, he * Plato. t Los degno di veder si soprafar dal Re .\riigo, & altri che esso havea voluto a questo modo schifare la fortuna aversa, &c. See more in Lodovico Dolci's Vita di Carlo V. 518 differed nothing from his groom ; and Pkitarch exceedingly reproves this shameful abdication of Princes without cause. What a dishonour (savs he) had it been for Agesilaus, Numa, Darius, Pericles, Solon, or Cato to have cast oflF their diadems, torn their purple, and broken their scepters in pieces for the despondency of a Dioclesian ; or to have given place to proud and aspiring hoys ? How was Caius Gracchus reproch'd but for retiring from his charge a little, though on the death of his own brother ? If ever such retreat be justifiable, 'tis when tyrants are at the helm, and the commonwealth in the power of cruel persons. When the wicked (says Solomon) rise, men hide themselves * ; then, hene vixit, hene qui Intuit, if it were not infinitely more laudable, with Demos- thenes, even then to be most active, and endeavour its rescue ; for things can never arrive at that pass, ut nulli actioni Jionestce sit locus ; 'tis Seneca's inference from the bravery of Socrates, who resisted no less than thirty of those Athenian monsters together ; and how many thirtys more our glorious Prince did not desist to oppose, we have llv'd to see in the fruits of our present felicity ; and to the eternal renown of that illustrious Duke, who so resolutely unnestled the late juncto of iniquity, Turpe est cedere oneri, 'tis a weakness to truckle under a burthen, and be weary of what we have with good advice undertaken ; he is neither worthy nor valiant that flies business, but whose spirit advances in courage with the pressure and difficulties of his charge. Were it not gallant advice (says Plutarch) to dissuade Epaminondas from taking care of the army ? bid Lycurgus enact no more wholesome laws ? and Socrates to teach wisdom no longer ? Would you bring vertue into oblivion ? should not arts improve ? becomes it doctors to be silent ? This were taking light out of the world, and pulling the sun from his glorious orbe ; would dissolve laws, humane sciences, and even govern- ment itself But he proceeds : had Themistocles never been known of the Athenians, Greece had never given Xerxes a repulse ; had the Romans still slighted Camillus, where had that renowned city been } if Plato had not known Dion, Sicily had yet groan'd under tyranny. But as the light not only makes us known to each other, but also ren- * Prov. xxviii. 28. 519 ders us mutually useful ; so the being public and conspicuous to the world, does not only acquire glory, but presents us with the means of illustrating our virtues ; whilst those who through sloth or diffidence never exercise themselves, though they possibly may have good in them, yet they do none. Indeed the Petahsm in Sicily caused the most able statesmen to retire themselves ; because they would not be subject to the aspiring humour of those pragmatical spirits who affected a rotation in the pub- lick affairs ; by which means experienced persons being laid aside, those pretenders to the politics had in a short time so confounded things together, that the very people who assisted to the change, were the first that courted them to resume their power ; abrogating that foolish law which themselves had more foolishly enacted. To the like condition had the Athenian Ostracisme neer reduced that once glorious republic : and what had like to be the catastrophe even of this our nation, upon the same model (when every man forsooth would be a magistrate) sad has been the experience. Men may be employed, though not all as sena- tors and kings ; every wheel in a watch has its operation in the move- ment without being all of them springs. Let every man (says Epi- curus) well examine his own genius, and pursue that kind of life which he Is best furnished for : if he be of a slothful nature, he is not for action ; if active, he will never become a good private man ; for as to the one rest is business, and action labour ; so to the other otiicm is labour, and activity the most desirable repose. I am now arrived to the second period, which commences with the anxiety of great and public persons, upon the least subtraction of their past enjoyments. To this I rejoin, that we can produce so many preg- nant Instances of the contrary, even In this age of ours, as all antiquity can hardly parallel. Never was adverse fortune encountred with greater fortitude and gallantry, than when so many brave men suffered patiently the spoiling of their goods, sequestring their estates, dissipating their substance, imprisoning their bodies, exiling their relations, and all that can be named calamity, to preserve their loyalty and religion. In sum, when our Princes submitted to the axe, and our heroes to the haltar ; whilst we beheld people of meaner fortunes and private condition, lovers 520 of solitude and ease, repining at every inconsiderable loss, prostitute both their honour and conscience to preserve or recover what they but feared the loss of, and this elogy is due to thousands of them yet surviv- ing. I acknowledge that the ambitious person is in his sense a bottom- less pit, and that ingratitude and treason are too often pay'd for favour and good offices. Though I have likewise asserted in what circumstances even ambition itself is laudable and maybe stiled a vertue ; but have pri- vate men no thoughts of amplifying their fortunes, and of purchasing the next lordship ? Marrying, not to say sacrificing, their children to the next rich heir, and marketing for the portion ? Is there not in the best governed families of country gentlemen, as much purloynlng, ingrati- tude, and infidelity amongst their few servants and small retinue (not to mention ungracious and disobedient children), as in the greater eco- nomy of a commonwealth, proportionably speaking ? Where is there more emulation, contention, and canvasing, than in the remoter vil- lages, or the next good towns ? They sell us repose too dearly (says Plutarch *) which we must purchase at the rate of idleness ; and adds a pretty instance. If, says he, those who least meddle in publick em- ployment, enjoy the greatest serenity of mind, then should, doubtless, >^ women be of all other the quietest lambs in the world, and far exceed men In peaceableness and tranquillity, since they seldom stir out of their houses ; yet we find the contrary so notorious, and this gentle sex (whom so much as the wind dares not blow on) as full of envy, anger, anxiety, jealousie, and pride, as those who most of all converse In publick, and are men of business. And therefore we are not to mea- sure felicity and repose from the multitude and number of affairs, but from the temper and vertue of the subject ; besides that, 'tis often as criminal to omit the doing well as to commit evil, and some wise states have accounted them alike. Indeed If all the world inhabited the desarts, and could propagate like plants without a fair companion ; had we goods In common, and the primitive fervour of those new made prose- lltes-j'; were we to be governed bv instinct ; in a word, were all the uni- verse one ample con vent, we might all be contented, and all be happy; but * De Iranq. animi. * t Acts ii. 44. «» 521 this is an idea no where existant on this side Heaven ; and the hand may as well say, I have no need of the feet *, and the ears I have no need of the eye, as the world be governed without these necessary subordina- tions. Men must be prohibited all rational conversation, and so come under the category of brutes, to have no appetites besides eating and drinking ; no passions save the sensual, I have known as great animo- sities among the vulgar sort, as much bitterness of spirit, partiality, sense of injury, and revenge upon trifling occasions and suggestions, as ever I observed in the greater and more busied world ; 'twas evident that the Lacedemonians were more proud of their mean apparel at the Olympic courses, than the most splendid Rhodians in all their bravery and clinquant ; and Socrates soon espied the insolence of a slovenly phi- losopher through his tatter'd mantle. The Cynic in his tub currishlv flouted the Eastern Monarch, and despised his purple that secluded him from the common beams of the sun. He ought to be a wise and good man indeed that dares trust himself alone ; for ambition and malice, lust and superstition, are in solitude as in their kingdom : Perit stulto, says Seneca : recess is lost to a fool, or an ill man ; and how many weak heads are there in the world for one discreet person ? It was Crates, the disciple of Stilpo, that bid the morose walker take heed he talked not with a fool. Some men, says Epictetus, like unskilful! musltians, sing no where tolerably but in consort ; and 'tis noted, that he must have an excellent voice that can charm the ear alone, which renders them so difficult to be entreated. There are few plants that can nourish themselves with their own juice ; every man grinds indeed, but the mill that has no corn in it grinds either chaff, or sets fire on it self. But he declames only against the most conspicuous vices ; and every defect in the brightest luminaries is observed, whilest the lewd recesses of Tvberius eclipsed none of his prodigious debaucheries. So true is that of the philosopher -j-, wherever men abscond themselves, humane miseries or their vices find them out and attaque them. Multa intus, says he ; many things within enslave us even in the midst of solitude. Were not the greatest philosophers, nay the very fathers of them. * 1 Cor. xii. 21. f Sen. Ep. 82. 3 X 522 severely taxed for the lowest pleasures, and sins not fit to be named ? Seneca himself escaped not the censure of covetous and ambition ; Pliny of excess of curiosity ; Epicurus of riot ; Socrates of psederastie ; The- mistocles of morosity ; all of tliem of vanity, contempt, and fastidi- ousness. To the instance of great men's submissions to the commands of Pnnces, be they just or unjust, it holds well, had the discourse concern'd tyrants only and barbarians ; but to produce that example of Parmenio and Cleander, is to quit the subject, and borrow the extravagance of a mad-man and a drunkard, to decry princes and statesmen who are the most conspicuous examples of temperance. But 1 proceed to the niaxime. If nothing be good which labours of the least defect, then so long as his Celador is not an angel, he does no more come within the first part of the definition, than the greatest and most employ'd person living ; and if he insist upon degrees, I answer, he lyes not under the same temptation, and therefore neither can he pretend to approch his merit ; but if I prove the most diabolical arts and cursed machinations to have been forg'd by persons of the most obscure condition, and hatch'd by the sons of night, recluse, and little conversant in affairs, I shall infi- nitely distress that opinion of its virtue or advantage ; for being either happy in it self, or rendering others so.* The monkes have been so dex- trous at the knife, and other arts of mischief, that they have not trembled to make the holy and salutary Eucharist the vehicle of destruction, when they had any kings to dispatch and put out of the way; and have made such havoc of the French Henrys, that but for these solitary birds, those princes might have survived all their sad mis- fortunes. It was not for nothing that Jeroboham withdrew so long into ^gypt (that kingdom of darkness *) when he contriv'd the defection of no less than ten whole tribes at a clap ; and how much mischief, sin, and bloodshed it caus'd, the sacred story has accurately recorded. The blackest treasons have been forged in the closets and gloomy recesses ; who is not amaz'd at the very image and thought of the Gun -powder Conspiracy ? carried on and excogitated by the devil, and a pack of these * 1 Kings, chap xii. 523 solitary spirits ! 'Twas but an Arian Monk and an obscure Jew who first encouraged and instructed that mighty Impostor, occasioning more evil in the Christian church and state than was ever done by all the tyrants since it began ; for it spawn'd not only an heresy but blas- phemy : razing the Christian name out of almost half the world ; and the issues of the cell are to this day conspicuous in the lira and the sword which has destroyed not cities onlv, but whole empires, and made more fatherless and widows, more desolation and confusion, and done more harm to letters, than can be recounted ; nor did the uttermost machination of the greatest person in. employment, ever approch what one monk set on foot out of his holy den, that ever 1 could read in story ; and what are all our truculent champions of the Flft-Monarchy amongst us at this day, but so many persons who seem to be the most self-denying people, and the highest affected with solitude and devout enthusiasme, despising honours and public charges, whilst they breathe nothing save ruine and destruction ? They are the close, stagnate, and covered waters which stink most, and are fullest of mud and ordure, how calm and peaceable soever they seem upon the surface ; whilst men of action and publick spirits, descending as from the highest rocks and eminences, though tiiey sometimes make a noise, have no leisure to corrupt, but run pure and without mixture. There is an heavy woe denounced in Scripture to those who thus settle on their lees*. Physi- cians tell us the body is no longer in health than the bloud is in motion and duely circulates, action is the salt of life, and diligence the life of action. All things in Heaven are in motion, and though 'tis there only that we can promise repose to our selves ; yet neither dare I say, we shall do nothing there, since the admiration of the beatifical vision will certainly take up and employ all our faculties, and set them in operation ; nor whilst we shall there be in perpetual ecstasie, shall we live to our selves, but to God alone. There is then, doubtless, no such thing as rest (unless it be that from earthly toll, anxieties, and the works of sin, which is that repose mentioned by the Apostle) ; since action is so essential to our lives •j' that it constitutes our being ; and even in all * Zeph. i. 1'2. f Hebrews, iv. 9. 524 theory and contemplation it self, there is a kind of action, as philoso- phers do universally agree. Let it be confess'd, the Court is a stage of continual masquerade, and where most men walk incognito ; where the art of dissimulation (which Donna Olympia has named the Keys of the Vatican) is avow'd ; yet it cannot be;, deny'd but there are some in that warm climate too, as per- fectly sincere as in the country ; and where virtue shines with as much lustre as in the closest retirement, where, if It give any light, it is but in a dark-lantliorn ; and to be innocent there, where there is so much temptation, is so much the greater merit. Believe it, to conserve one- self in Court is to become an absolute hero ; and what place more be- coming heros than the Courts of Princes ? for not only to vanquish armies in the field, defend our country, and free the oppressed, are the glorious actions of those demi-gods ; but to conflict with the regnant vices, and overcome our selves, greater exploits than the winning of enchanted castles and killing of gyants ; for what violence must be apply'd to be humble in the midst of so much flattery ; chast amongst such licence, where there is so much fire, and so much tinder, and not to look towards the fruit which in that Paradise is so glorious to the eve and so delicious to the taste ? What a disposition to purity to come forth white from the region of smoke, and where even the stars themselves are not w ithout their spots ! In sum, not to fall into the nets which the noon-day Devils spread under our feet, above our heads, and about us ; and who pursue those that flye, and bear down those who resist. But, as I said, if the difficulties be so great, how much greater the glory ? Whilst pretending to no such temptation in his solitude, there is less exercise for his virtue ; it being rather a privation from evil, than any real habit to good. Certainly, there is not in the country that admirable simplicity pretended, nor do they altogether transact with that integrity. For is there not among them as much ini- quity in buying and selling ? as much over-reaching in the purchase of a cow, or a score of sheep ? as much contention about the encrochment of a dirty fence ? as much regreating with the farmer, keeping up the price of corn, when the poor are starving ? How many oaths and exe- crations are spent to put off a diseas'd horse ? Have we not seen as 525 much ambition and state where the country Justices convene on the market-days at the petty towns, to have the caps and the knees of the bumkins ? as much canvassing for suffrages and voices ? not to insist on the prodigious debauches, drinkings, emulation, and perjuries at elections; and even greater pride, deadly feud, railing, and traducing, amongst the she-Pharisees, or little things of the neighbourhood, for the upmost place in the church pew, or at a gossiping-meeting, as at court, and in the city, between the ladies of the best quality ? and all this while we grow weary of the publick, and resolve against employment, and the sound of affairs, repenting of the lost moments that are past in conversation ; and yet, in every cave and every cottage there is a chair for ambition, and a bed for luxury, and a table for riot, though Hell be raining out of Heaven, And it may be observ'd, that we do not hear the least evil of Lot, or the virtue of his daughters, whilst they liv'd in the midst of Sodom * it self, 'till abandoning even his little Zoar to his more solitary and cavernous recess, he fell into those prodigious crimes of ebriety and incest. Verily, that is truly great to retire from our vices, not from cities or conversations. If you be virtuous, let your example profit ; if vitious, repent and amend. Strive not so much to conceal your passions as to reform them ; for little do solitary persons profit, without a mind adapted for it ; wise men only enjoy themselves, not the voluptuous or morose ; and I have seen some live discontented even in houses of pleasure, and so in their solitudes, as if none were more full of business. When he celebrates recess for the little it wants, he gratifies the Cinick ; he could attribute as much to his tub, and the treen dish that he drank in, which was all the house and furniture we read of; and an owl and a pelican want as little as the philosopher; but he does not say by this that solitude is fertile ; it is not from the abundance that it supplies them, but from its sterility and defects, which, if it be a com- mendation to that, is so to nothing else in nature. He proceeds again to the passions of great men, which are, indeed, more conspicuous, as lightning and thunder are amongst the meteors, * Gen. xix. 3'2. 526 and in the air ; but we do not take notice of the corruscatlons, conflicts, and emotions, which are every day in the bowels of the earth. How impatient and unjust are some of your country gentlemen to their domestics ? how- griping to their tenants ? how unnatural to their chil- dren, and uncivil to their wives ? Pardon me these reflections, he has compell'd me ; and it is for your justification (O ye great ones !) that I find my self obliged to produce these odious comparisons ; whilest I could give Celador's friend such an example in our first Charles, of blessed memory, Philip the Second of Spain, Alphonso of Arragon, and divers of the later Emperors, for acts of the highest patience, forti- tude, devotion, constancy, and humanity, as would shame all the pre- tenders to moral vertues, In his so celebrated retirements and private persons. With what constancy, spirit, and resignation, did our royal Martyr unjustly suff'er from the machinations of the most insolent and implacable of his vassals, Is not certainly to be parallel'd by any thing posterity has recorded, save that grand exemplar, our blessed Saviour, who was a King too, but more than man ; from whose emulous pattern he has transmitted to us, not only all the perfections of the most Inno- cent private persons, but the vertues of the most eminent Saints. He was imprison'd and revil'd, spit on and injuriously accused ; he was arraign'd, and, by a barbarous contradiction, condemn'd and despoil'd of three kingdoms, by the most nefarious parricide that ever the sun beheld, and that before his own very palace. Tell me yet, you admirers of solitude, in what corner of your recesses dwelt there a more excellent soul, abstracted from all the circumstances of his birth and sacred cha- racter, and considered only as a private person ? Where was there a more sincere man in his actions ? a more constant devotee to his religion ? more faithful husband to his wife ? and a more pious father to his chil- dren ? in a word, a more consummate Christian ? Look on him then as a King, to be superlatively all this, and all that a good and a most vertuous Prince can be to his subjects, and you have the portraicture of our Charles opposed to all the petty images of your solitary gentlemen, and decryers of publick employment. One day that Philip the Second had been penning a tedious dispatch, importing some high affair of state, which employed almost the whole day, he bid the secretary that 527 waited by hltn to throw some dust on the paper; he, instead of the sand, snatching up the ink-bottle, poured it on all tiie letters ; the King, taking a large sheet of clean paper, wrote it verbatim over again, and when he had finished, calmly delivering it to the confounded secre- tary, bid him dry it : but, says the Prince, take notice that this is the ink, and this the sand-box ; which was all the reproof he gave him. I instance in this (because of the rest of those vertues I have enumerated there are such volumes of examples) to put to silence all that can be produc'd upon the account of that passion which is so frequently charg'd on great persons, but which, indeed, upon the most trifling occasions, use to discompose the most retired persons. And what if amongst these, besides many others, I should instance in S. Hierome himself, and other fathers of the church, as recluse and private as they Were known to be religious. As to the comparative exemption of solitude from vice for the want of opportunity, the advantage is very slender, since (with what I have already furnlsh'd to evince it) it implies only what monsters it would else produce ; and indeed the most formidable that were ever hatch'd have thence had their original, as I have abundantly prov'd by the dark and infernal machinations of solitary persons; so as his happy man seems at best to be but a starv'd or chained lyon, who would do mischief enough had he liberty, and a power equal to his will. 'Tls instanc'd ni the madness of some few heathen Emperors ; but he passes by the salutary laws promulg'd by them for the universal good. Nor were there so many debauch'd and vicious of the Roman heretofore, but I can name you as many Christian Princes, religious to miracle, and without reproach, if what is already said be not sufficiently irrepllcable. As for the rest, whatever they might once have been in their ascent, it was said of Ceesar, that either he should never have aspir'd to dominion, or, having once attaln'd it, been immortal; so just, so equal, and so merciful, was his successive reign. Never was it pronounc'd of any- private person, that he was a man after God's own heart; but we may know it was so of a King, and that from the Almighty himself. And not to mention Hezekias, Josias, Jehosaphat, and many others recorded in holy writ, I durst oppose an Augustus, a Titus, a Trajan, Antoninus, 528 Aurelius ; to omit Constantine, Theodosius, Justinian, Charles the Great, S, Edward, S. Lewes, both the Alphonsos, and divers more of the crowned heads, before any or all he can produce. It's true they all dyed not in their beds ; no more do all in his solitude ; for they often hang themselves, linger in consumptions, break their necks in hunting, inflame themselves with tipling, perish of the unactive scorbut, country agues, and catharrs. And if he speak it out who they were that stabb'd the two Henrys, and our gallant Buckingham whom he mentions, it must be avow'd they were all murther'd by private persons. But whilst he is thus exact in recording all the vices of ill princes, because the spots in the sun are so easily discern'd by his optic, he takes no notice of the light it universally diffuses, and is silent of the virtues of the good and the beneficent, who have both in all ages rewarded, cherished, and protected, gallant men. But when he shall have passed through all the examples of the great ones who are come to ruine and destruction, he does not examine how many private men, gentlemen and others, remain in any one country, whose patrimonial estates are not impair'd by as trifling contests, neglects, prodigality, and ill husbandry, as any he charges upon those eminent persons. If solitude be assistant to religion and devotion, how much more is society? "Where two or three are assembled together in my name there am I in the midst of them*." I know no text where acts of relimon are commended for being solitary. It is true, our blessed Saviour went apart into desart places •j' to avoid the importunities of a malicious and incredulous people, but he was tempted there J ; and though he some- times retired to pray, and which was commonly in the night §, when conversation with the world was less seasonable, he was all day teaching in the temple, or continually going about doing good ||, and healing all manner of diseases among the people^, giving counsel to and instructing his disciples, whom he dispersed over the world to evangelize his holy doctrine **. We are indeed bid to oflFer up our prayers to our Heavenly Father in secret, and to do our almes without a trumpet -f-j-, not because * Matt, xviii. 20. t Luke, ix. 10. J Matt. iv. 1. ^ Luke, vi. 12. II Luke, xxi. 37. H Matt, i v. 23. ** Mark, xvi. 15. ft Matt. vi. 3, 6. 529 it adds to the dignity of the service, but to avoid the temptation of hypocrisie, and because we have infirmities ; whilest we are yet in ano- ther place commanded to render our Morks so illustrious, that both men may see them, and God may have the glory *. Certainly the most instructive motives to religion are from our imitation of others, and the incentives of devout congregations, as they approach the neerest resem- blance to the church catholick militant here on earth, so doubtless do they to the communion of Saints triumphant in Heaven. Is there, then, no devotion save in conventicles and cells ? and yet even the most recluse Carthusians spend eight hours of the twelve in divine offices together. The commendation of a true Christian consists in doing, not in meditating only ; and it were doubtless an admirable compendium of all our notional disputes in religion, if less were believed and more were practised. 'Tis true, Mary's sitting at the feet of our Saviour, and hearkening to his instructions, was preferr'd before busie Martha's em- ployment ; but the man who laid up his master's talent, and actively improv'd it not ■f', did worse; she was gently reprov'd, he severely con- demn'd. But he adds, that most temptations are in solitude disarm'd of the chains which render them formidable to us in publick, as there wanting the presence of an inflaming object, &c. But what, if I sustain that absence does oftentimes augment the passion he speaks of, and that our fansies operate more eagerly when alone, than when we are possess'd of the object ? Nor is there half so warm a fire In fruition as desire ; When we have got the fruit of pain, Possession makes us poor again ; Sense is too niggardly for bliss. And pays as dully with what is: Whilst Phancy's liberal and gives all That can within her largeness fall, kc. Thus we are ever the most inquisitive after mysteries and hidden * Matt. V. 16. t Luke xix. '20. and Matt. xxv. 26, 30. 3 Y ^ o 30 things, vvhllest those we enjoy, we neglect or grow weary of. But I proceed. The most superstitious of men have heen the greatest Eremites, and besides the little good they do by their example, there is not in the world a life more repugnant to nature, and the opportunities of doing our duty ; since even the strongest faith without works will not save us. For how can he that's immur'd perform those acts of misericord, which shall be so severely exacted of us at the last judgment ; to feed the hungry, visit the sick, cloath the naked *, unless it be in the mock sense of St. James — " depart in peace, be you warmed and filled f ," whilst they give neither meat nor cloath s to refresh the miserable ? But I am altogether astonished at his instance in David again, as prompted to his lust and murther by the ill fate of his publick character; when 'tis evident had he been employ'd, or but in good company, he had never fallen into so sad a crime. Let it be remembered that he was alone upon the battlements of his palace, and then all the water in Bathsheba's fountain was not cold enough to extinguish his desires ^ ; so mighty a protective is society from that particular temptation, that even the presence of a child has frustrated an opportunity of being wanton. If it were God's own verdict, that to be alone was an evil state §, how come we to have Adam's society blam'd ? for even Adam, he says, could not live innocent a day in it. But, besides that the short dura- tion of his felicity is l)ut a conjecture, I have some where read, that but for Eve's curiosity, which prompted her to stray from the company and presence of her husband, the serpent (as subtle as he was) had never found an opportunity to tempt her. He was indeed too easily enticed by her example, and no marvel God had forsaken his sweet associate, and then the first effects of both their shame and disobedience was their dark retirement ||. Doubtless there are many heinous sins which company preserves us from ; for it is a shame to speak of some things which are done by men in secret. I suppose it was no widow (as he speaks her to be) who so hospita- bly entertainnd the great Elisha, but a married lady, and of an ample * Matt. XXV. 35. 36. f Ja. ii. 16. J 2 Sam. xi. 2. ^ Gen. ii. IS. || Gen.iii. 10. 531 fortune ; for the text * calls her a great woman ; and we find her speaking to her husband in another place, concerning the building and furniture of the prophet's chamber; nor does the answer she return'd him at all imply her wants, she plainly needed nothing that the court could confer upon her, only an heir she wanted to inherit; she lived amongst her people, and had company enough ; and verily we shall find the solitude of the same prophet to be the effect of a persecution, not of his preferring it before society ; and we meet the holy man much oftner at court, in the camp, at the colledge, and perpetually employ'd, than either in the mountains or in the wilderness. But let us grant that some devotions are best performed in our closets, yet does the life of a christian consist only in wearing the marble with our knees ? I have already shew'd that there are works of charity that can no where be so well performed as In company ; nor can I assent that the being alone contributes half so much to our zeal as the examples of conversation. How frequently does David repeat his ardent affections, and address to the tabernacle and the great congregation -f ? and though the countrv round about Sinai were a howling desart ;|;, yet had it at one time in it no less than six hundred thousand fighting men together §, whereof the most devout were the most publickly em- ployed ; witness Moses, Aaron, Joshua, Caleb, Phineas, &c. which being but in the minority and pupillage of the church, were all this while but preparing for God's publlck worship, and the constitution of a people in the world the most busle and employed. To the text in Hosea il. 14, where God says he will " comfort his church in the wilderness," I oppose his innumerable sweet compellatlons under the type of the daughter of Zlon, which was a great and most eminent part of that populous city, and that glorious accession of the Gentiles described by Isaiah ||. The tabernacle was indeed for a time in the wilderness ; but neither did that, nor the extraordinary presence of God in it, restrain a rebellious people from committing more crimes and insolences in it in forty years, than in four hundred before, when they * 2Reg. viii. 1. f Psalm xxii. 22. xxxv. 18. ix. 11. J Deut, xxxii. 10. § Numb. i. 46. || Chap. Ix. 3. 532 dwelt in the cities of iEgypt ; for (as the Psalm) " Lust came upon them in the wilderness, and they tempted God in the desart *." It is well known that the first occasion of the monastical life, was because men could no longer live quietly in the more frequented places, by reason of the heat of persecution, and yet even in their remotest re- cesses, he that looks into St. Hieroms description of it -f' shall find that they were so near to one another, that they were almost perpe- tually in company ; nor does any, I think, consider the stories of Onuphrus, Anthony, Simon Stylites, and the rest of that spirit, but as hypocondriacs, singular persons and authors of much superstition and unprofitable severity. The invasion of the Gothes on the Roman Empire, drove multitudes of those holy persons to these Latehree, and the present distress (to use St. Paul's expression ij;) might sometimes be a sufficient argument to recommend, If not prefer the coelibate be- fore the conjugal estate, and the barbarity of that age to the extraor- dinary mode of living which, from compulsion and a certain cruel necessity, became afterwards to be of choice and a voluntary obliga- tion. But does he think to derive any force to his darling solitude, from the servile and busie occupations which none, save Heathens and Mahometans teach, shall be among infernal torments ? Turks and scoffing Lucians may possibly broach those fancies of the impertinent employments of Alexander and Caesar in the other world ; but I pre- sume he takes them but for the dreams of that philosophical drol, and to have no solid foundation besides their scoffing and Atheistical wits. He is now pleased again to imagine that there is nothing which does more prevail with men to aflfect grandure, than what he thinks due only to phantasms and ghosts ; though Fame be indeed a bubble in the estimation of those who are not much concerned for the future, I find yet how impossible it was for him to secure any praise to solitude it self by the neglect of it ; whilest he so carefully has consecrated to pos- terity the names and elogies of so many as seemingly despis'd it, on purpose to obtain It; but this stratagem is very thin and transparent; * Psalm cvi. 14. f Passim in Epist. J 1 Cor. vii. 26. 533 for such as he mentions not, I presume never were, and those he does record, have purchas'd more hy that artifice than if they had continu'd men of the busiest employment. Charles the Fifth and the rest he enumerates, being more celebrated for their supposed voluntary abdica- tion (whatever the true motives were) than for all the most glorious passages of their former reigns; but however these great men are beholden to their patron, I confess the pedants (as he calls them) and the poets are not less obliged to him for the power he attributes to them of being able to make great whomsoever they please; but those persons, I should think, to have little merited of posterity, whose me- mory has no other dependance than their ayrie suffrages ; when it is from the sober pens, and the veritable memoires of grave and faithful historians, that the heroick lives of deservinp- men receive life and im- mortality after death. Let the pedants and the poets then celebrate the soft and weakest circumstances of the reignes of those princes they would justifie ; the pens .of great and illustrious authors shall eternize those who persever'd in their grandure, and publick charges to the end ; for such were Xenophon, Polybius, Tacitus, Livy, and even Caesar himself, besides many others, as well of antient as modern times, from whose writings we have received the noblest characters of their virtues; and if it be retorted, that whilst they actually writ, they were retired, I grant it ; but if men had not done things worthy writing, where had been either the use or fame of what they so bravely acted and trans- mitted to posterity ? In the mean time I acknowledge, that the greatest empire is to command one's self, and that the courts of princes have alwaies had this of ungrateful to generous souls, that they but too frequently subject gallant men to caparison'd asses ; gay, but vitious or insipid. Princes are not always happy in their choice of favourites ; but it is not universally so, and that it is in the breast of the same prince to turn them off, or lay by the counters, to advance good men, and bring virtue into reputation ; these external submissions may the better be supported, for wise men do not bend the knee to the beast (we have the example of Mordecai*) but to the shrine it bears, * Esther hi. 2. 534 as those who adored Isis upon the back of the animal that carried it, and so the sunne may shine upon a dung-hill unpolluted, and thus it shall be done to the man whom the king is pleas'd to honour ; which though it denotes obedience in the observer, does no real dignity to the recipient, nor can they themselves but believe it, with some useful re- flection, as oft as they see a respect paid them, which they must needs be conscious to themselves they do not deserve. I cannot, therefore, accuse the deferent of so much adulation, as praise him for his obedi- ence, so long as he offers no divine or consumptive oblations to the idol, and offends not God ; for there is certainly no man, meerly by beino- a courtier, obliged to imitate their vices, or subject themselves to the unworthy complyances he would insinuate ; since in that case, a fair retreat is alwaies in one's power ; and if on that score, or the expe- rience of his personal frailty, he be prompted to it, how infinitely more glorious will be the example of his quitting those specious advantages, which can neither be conserved or attain'd without succumbing under a temptation ? And when he discourses of society, instancing in the trifling conversation of idle persons and knights of the carpet, who consume their precious moments at the feet of some insipid female, or in the pursuit of the pleasures of the lower belly, I heartily assent. There are a sort of bouffoons and parasites which are the very excre- ments of conversation, as well in country as courts; and to be there- fore treated as such, wip'd off, and cast from us ; and there are wor- thier diversions for men of refin'd sense, when they feel themselves exhausted with business, and weary of action. Certainly, those who either know the value of themselves or their imployments, may find useful entertainments, without retiring into wildernesses immuring themselves, renouncing the world and deserting publick affairs ; and when ever you see a great person abandon'd to these dirty and mean familiarities, he is an object of pity, and has but a little soul ; nothing being more true, ^^oscitur ex socio, qui non cognoscitur ex se ; but, God be thanked, the age is not yet so barren of ingenuous spirits, but that man may find virtue with facetiousnesse and worthy conversation, without mo- rosity to entertain the time with ; he has else been strangely unhappy in his acquisitions, who is to seek for good company to pass an hour 535 with, if ever he sought one of the sweetest condiments of life: and doubtlesse, did great persons but once taste the difference which is between the refined conversation of some virtuous men, who can be infinitely witty, and yet inoffensive ; they would send some of their familiars Avith a dog-whip out of their companies; because a "man of honour (to use Job's expression *} would disdain to set them with the dogs of his flock ;" for after their prostituted and slavish sense and contrivances are spent upon the praise or acquisition of some fair sinner, or the derision of what is more excellent then themselves, to sup- ply their want of furniture, fill their emptinesse, and keep up a worthy and truely recreative and profitable conversation, they degenerate into flatness and shame, and are objects rather of pity then envy. Men of businesse do not sell their moments to these triflers ; conversation should whet and adorn our good parts, and the most excellent endow- ments both of nature, industry, and grace, would grow dull and effete without culture and exercise ; let men chuse their company as they ought, and let them keep as much as they please ; it is but to sit on a bright place, and the camelion it self is all shining ; men will contract both colour and perfume from the qualities of their associates ; this made Moses's face to glister, and the conversation of good men as well as bad, is alike contagious. But 'tis objected, that " familiarity creates contempt." 1 reply, it was never seen, amongst those who know truly what it signified : 'tis one thing to be civil and affable, useful, and accessible, without being im- pudent, rustick, or cheap in our addresses. They skill little of the pleasure and delices of a worthy friendship, who know not how to enjoy or preserve it without satiety ; that's left to the meaner sort, and was indeed not to have been instanc'd in so generous a discourse. There is no better means to preserve our esteem with others, then by setting a value on our selves. To what's alledg'd of the variety private persons enjoy in their own cogitations, and the reading of other men's books, so much superior to conversation, and the reading of men ; one of the greatest book-writers * Job XXX. 1. 536 in the world will tell you *, that should a man ascend as high as Heaven it self, not by contemplation only but ocular intuition, and survey all the beauty and goodly motions of the Starrs ; it would be little delight or satisfaction to him, unlesse he had some body to communicate his speculations to — Sic natura solitarium nihil amat ; whence he nobly infers, how highly necessary conversation is to friendship ; and that he " must certainly be of no good nature, who does not prefer it before all other enjoyments of life whatsoever. We know who it is has pro- nounced the V(js soli, and how necessary God has found the conjugations of mankind f, without which nor had the earth been inhabited with men, nor heaven fiU'd with saints. Solomon says, " Two are better than one, and a threefold cord is not easily broken X\" ^^^ Plutarch tells us, that of old they were wont to call men Phota, which imports light ; not only for the vehement desire which there is in him to know and to be known ; but (as I would add) for it's universal communication ; there being few of whom it may be affirm'd, as 'twas of Scipio, that he was never lesse idle than when alone, and which, as the Oratour has it, do m Otio de negotiis cogitare, §• in solitudine secum loqui. But thus did those great persons neither affect nor use it, other than as the greater vessels and beaten ships after a storme, who go aside to trim and repair, and pass out again : so he, tanqumn inportum, and therefore by that master of eloquence, infinitely preferr'd to those who quite retir'd out of business for ease and self-indulgence only. Seneca, in his book De Otio Sapientis, totally condemns this cogitative virtue, as a life without action, an imperfect and languishing good ; and in the same chapter, why does a wise man retire himself but as a bow is unbent, ut cessanda majora ; instancing the recess of Zeno and Chrysippus, whose very repose was, it seems, more busie than other men's actions ; but let us hear him speak : what, says he ! " Solitude makes us love our selves, conversation others ; the one to comfort, the other to heal ; the one allays, the other whets and adds new vigour : nothing pleases alwaies ;" and therefore God who has built us for labour, provides us * Cic. de Amicit. f Eccles. iv. 10. + Eccles. iv. 9. 12. 537 also with refreshment. Socrates himself was not ashamed to p'.ay the child with children ; severe Cato took sometimes a chirping cup ; and Asinlus Polllo diverted himself after pleading ; and the wisest l^eglsla- tors ordaln'd holy-days, and some grave men took their pastime at dinner, or walking in their gardens, and among their facetious friends, when the greatest persons laid off their state, constraint, and other circumstances which their characters obliged them to personate ; but they did never grow angry with business, and depose themselves, for multum interest, remittas aliquid an solvas, there's a wide difference 'twlxt relaxation and absolute relinquishing ; and to imagine that great persons have little repose, when 'twlxt every stroke of the anvil the very smith has leisure to breathe, is an egregious mistake. The compas which moves in the largest circle has a limb of it fix'd to the center; and do we think that honour, victory, and riches (which render all things supportable, besides the benefits which it is in the power of great ones to place on worthy persons,) are not pleasures equal to all other refreshments of the spirits ? For my part, I believe the capacity of being able to do good to deserving men so excessive a delight, that as 'tis neerest to the life of God himself, so no earthly felicity approches it. Wherefore wisely (says Plutarch) did the ancients impose those names upon the Graces, to shew that the joy of him that does a kindness, exceeds that of the beneficiary ; many (says he) blushing when they receive favours, but never when they bestow them. As for books, I acknowledge with the philosopher, Otium, sine Uteris*, to be the greatest infelicity in the world ; but on the other side, not to read men, and converse with living libraries, is to deprive ourselves of the most useful and profitable of studies. This Is that de- plorable defect which universally renders our bookish-men so pedantically morose and Impolish'd, and in a word, so very ridiculous ; for, believe it, Sir, the wisest men are not made in chambers and closets crowded with shelves, but by habitudes and active conversations. There is nothing more stupid than some of these f/,ou(ro-7ra.TaKToi, letter-struck men ; for T^ocfJcfiocToc f/,oc6eTv Se'i koh [ia.9ovrcx, vouv exetv ; learning should not do men ill * Seneca. 3z 538 offices. Action Is the proper fruit of science, and therefore they should quit the education of the coUedge when fit to appear in husiness, and take Seneca's advice, Tamdhi istis immorandum, quamdiu nihil agere animus majiis potest ; rudimenta stint nostra, non opera; and lam able to prove, that persons of the most publlck note for great affairs, have stored the world with the most of what it knows, even out of books them- selves ; for such were Gaesar, Cicero, Seneca, both the Piinys, Aristotle, ^schylus, Sophocles, Plato, Xenophon, Polyblus, not to omit those of later ages, and reaching even to our own doors, in our Sidney, Verulam, Raleigh, the Count of Mirandula, Scaliger the father, Ticho Brahe, Tliuanus, Grotlus, &c. profound men of letters, and so active in their lives, as we shall find them to have managed the greatest of publlck charges, not only of their native countries, but some of them of the world it self. ./Elian has employed two entire chapters expressly to vindicate philosophers from the prejudices and aspersions of those (who like our antagonist) deem'd the study of It inconsistent with their admi- nistration of publlck affairs. There he shews us that Zaleucus both constituted and reformed the Locrian Republick * ; Charondas that ot Catana, and after his exile that of Rhegium ; the Tarentine was exceed- ingly improv'd by Archytas ; Solon governed the Athenians ; Bias and Thales much benefited Ionia, Chllo the Lacedemonians, and Plttacus that of Mltylena ; the Rhodlans Cleobulus ; and Anaxlmander planted a colony at ApoUonla from Miletus ; Xenophon was renowned for his military exploits, and approv'd himself the greatest captain amongst all the Greeks in the expedition of Cyrus, who with many others perlsh'd; for when they were in a strait for want of one to make good their retreat, he alone undertook and effected it ; Plato, the son of Arlston, brought back Dlo into Sicily, Instructing him how he should subvert the tyranny of Dionyslus ; only Socrates Indeed deserted the care of the Athenian Democracy, for that it more resembled a tyranny, and therefore refused to give his suffrage for the condemning those ten gallant commanders, nor would he by any means countenance the thirty tyrants in any of their flagitious actions ; but when his dear country lay at stake, then he • Var. Hist.l. 3, c. 17. 539 cheerfully took up arms, and fought bravely against Deliura, An^phi- polis, and Potldea ; Aristotle, when his country was not only reduc'd to a very low ebb, but almost utterly ruin'd, restored her again ; Deme- trius Phalarius govern'd Athens with extraordinary renown till their wonted malice expell'd him ; and yet, after that, he enacted many wholesome laws, whilst he sojourn'd with KingPtolomy in iEgypt. Who will deny Pericles the son of Xanthippus to have been a most profound philosopher ? or Epamlnondas, Phoclon, Aristides and Ephialtes the sons of Polymnes, Phocus, Lysander, and Sophonldas, and some time after Carnedas and Critolaus ? Who were employ'd Embassadours to Rome, and obtaln'd a peace, prevailing so far by their eloquence and discreet behaviour, as that they us'd to say, the Athenians had sent Embassadors not to perswade them to what they pleased, but to compel them. Nor can we omit Perseus his knowledge in politics, who instructed Antlgonus ; nor that of the great Aristotle, who instituted the young, but afterward great Alexander in the study of letters ; Lysis, the disciple of Pythagoras, Instructed Epamlnondas. I shall not need to Importune you with more recitals (though he resumes the same in- stances In the 14th chapter of his 7th book) to celebrate the renown of learned men for their knowledge and success in armies, as well as in civil government, where he tells us of Plato's exploit at Tanagra, and many other great scholars ; but shew you rather how he concludes : He (says .ffilian, for it seems there were some admirers of solitude before our days,) that shall affirm philosophers to be cctt^ccxtou?, unfit for publlck employment and businesse, talks childishly *, and like an igno- rant : and Senecaf gives so harsh a term to those who pretended that publick affairs did hinder tbe progresse of letters and the enjoyment of our selves, that the language would be hardly sufferable from any save a stoic : Mentiuntur, says he : " Wise men do not subject themselves to the employments they undertake, but accommodate and lend themselves to them only." So as our antagonist could not have chosen a topic lesse to the advantage of Solitude, or the humour of his happy Celador, whilst being confin'd to speculation and books alone, he deprives himself of * "A^Sn. f Ep. 62. 540 that pleasing variety which he contends for. These great men were men of action, and men of knowledge too, and so may persons of the busiest employments, were they as careful to improve their time and opportunities as those glorious heroes were ; which puts me in mind of what I have heard solemnly reported, that 'tis an ordinary thing at Amsterdam to find the same merchant, who in the morning was the busiest man in the world at Exchange-time, to be reading Plato or Xenophon in Greek, or some other of the learnedst authors and poets, at home in the afternoon. And there is no man (says my Lord Bacon) can be so straltned and oppress'd with businesse and an active course of life, but he may reserve many vacant times of leasure (if he be diligent to observe it, and how much he gives to play, insignificant discourses, and other impertinences,) whilst he expects the returns and tides of affairs ; and his own example has sufficiently illustrated what he writes, those studies and productions have been so obliging to the learned world, as have deservedly immortaliz'd his name to posterity. But he proceeds, and indeed ingenuously acknowledges, that men of letters are in constraint when they speak before great persons and in company : and can you praise solitude for this virtue ? Oh prodigious effect of learning, that those who have studied all their lives-time to speak, should then be mute, when they have most occasion to speak ! Loquere ut te videam, said the philosopher; but he would have men dumb and invisible too ; the truth is, 'tis the only reproch of men of letters, that, for want of liberal conversation, some of them appear in the world like so many fantasmes in black, and by declining a season- able exerting of themselves, and their handsome talents, which use and conversation would cultivate and infinitely adorn, they leave occasion for so many insipid and empty fopps to usurp their rights, and dash them out of countenance. Francis the First, that great and incomparable prince (as Sleidan calls him), was never brought up to letters, yet by the reading of good translations, the delight he took to hear learned discourses, and his inviting of scholars to converse freely with him upon all subjects and occasions, he became not only very eloquent, but singularly know- 541 ing ; for this doubtless it was, that Plutarch compos'd that express treatise amongst his morals, Philosojihandum esse cum Principihus, where he produces us several rich examples of these profitable effects ; and indeed (says one) a philosopher ought not to be blam'd for being a courtier, and that we now and then find them in the company of great and opulent persons ; nor imports it that you seldom see their visits return'd, since 'tis a mark he knows what he wants of accomplishments, and of their ignorance, who are so indifferent for the advantages they may derive from their conversations. But I might proceed and shew you, not only what makes our learned book-worms come forth of their cells with so ill a grace into company, but present you likewise with some of the most specious fruits of their so celebrated recesses ; were it not better to receive what I would say from the lively character which Seneca has long since given us of them. In earnest, marvellous is the pains which some of them take after an empty criticism, to have all the points of Martial and Juvenal ad unguem, the scraps of the ancient poets to produce upon occasion. Some are for roots, genealogies, and blazons ; can tell you who married who, what his great grand- father was, and the portion that came by his aunt. This was of old (says Seneca *) the epidemical disease for men to crack their brains to discover how many oars Ulysses gaily carried ; whether it were first written Ilias or Odyssea ; and a profound student amongst the learned Romans would recount to you who was the first victor at sea ; when elephants came Into use at triumphs ; and wonderful is the concern about Caudex, for the derivation of Codices, Caudicarlus, &c. ; Gellius or Agelllus, Vergillus or Virgillus ; with the like trifles that make men idly busie Indeed, not better ; yet are these amongst the most consider- able effects and rare productions of recess, solitude, and books, and some have grown old in the learning, and been greatly admired for It ; but what says our philosopher to it ? " Cujus isti errores minuent ? cujus cupiditates prement, quern fortiorem, quern justiorem, quern liberaliorem facient ? " Who's the better, less covetous, more valiant, * De Brevitale Vitse. 542 Just, or lil>era], for them ? I tell you Fahlanus preferr'd ignorance be- fore this unprofitahle science; and certainly therefore useful and pub- lic employment is infinitely superior to it; if need we will be learned out of books only, let it be in something more useful; qui fructuosa, non qui mulfa scit, snpit ; for 'tis no paradox to affirm a man may be learned and know but little, and the greatest clerks are not alwaies the wisest men. The Greek orator* gives us this description of usefully knowing men. " Reckon not those (says he) for philosophers, whom you find to be accurate disputants, and that can contest about every minute scruple ; but those who discourse pertinently of the most im- portant aflPairs, who do not entertain men about a felicity to which they can never arrive ; but such as speak modestly of themselves, and nei- ther want courage nor address on all emergencies, that are not in the least discomposed with the common accidents of life, but that stand unshaken amidst all vicissitudes, and can with moderation support both good and adverse fortune ; in sum, those who are fit for action, not discouraged, or meditating retreat upon every cross adventure;" to this purpose the orator : but neither would I by this be thought to dis- countenance even this kind of erudition, which, more than any other, is the effect of solitude and very great leisure, not to call it pedantry, much less bookish and studious persons, who would prove the most dear to princes and great men of all other conversations, had they such generous encouragements as might sometimes invite them to leave their beloved recesses, as did those great philosophers whom we have brought on the stage ; but we bestow more now-a-days in painting of a scene, and the expense of a ridiculous farce, than in rewarding of the poet or a good historian, whose laurels no longer thrive and are verdant, than they are irriguous and under showers of gold, and the constellations of crowns, for which they give immortality even to crowns themselves. For what would there remain of so many pyramids and obelises of marble, so many amphicheaters, circi, colosscs, and enormous pomps, if books and bookmen, cere perenniores, did not preserve them to posterity ? If under Heaven then, there be any thing great (hat ap- * lisocrates. 543 proaches eternity, it is from their hands who have managed the pen. 'Tis from their labours (ye great ones) that you seek to live, and are not forgotten as the dust you lie mingled with. Never had we heard of Achilles but for poor Homer ; never of the exploits of thousands more, but from the books and writings of learned men, who have it in their power to give more lustre to their heroes than their crown and purple ; and can with one dash of the pen, kill more dead, then a stab with a stiletto. There is no man alive that affects a country life more than my self; no man it may be, who has more experienc'd the delices of it; but even those without action were intollerable. You will say it is not publick. If it contribute and tend to it, what wants it but the name and the sound ? for he does not mean by business to reside only in lanes or courts; since without that of the country, there would be neither court nor city; but if he would have this life spent only in theory and fancy, extasie and abstractions, 'twere fitter for bedlam, and a potion of hellebor, then for sober men, whose lives and healths, wits and understanding were given them for action, and not to sit with their arms a crosse, and converse with shadows; whilst the fates of Pytha- goras, Archimedes and Pliny, whose curiosity cost them their lives, may well be ranked amongst those whom he is pleas'd to name the nobly senselesse, as far indeed transported beyond themselves, as they had transported themselves beyond the world ; but It is after he has celebrated the pedant for being inchanted at the story of Pompey, that he again introduces the Country Gentlemen, whose easie and insignificant life is preferr'd before that of the happiest favourite ; and can be as well pleased with a few bawling currs, or what he calls an happy chase, as with the acquisition of the most use- ful office in the state. But does he call this solitude and recesse ? 'Tis exceedingly pretty what Seneca * observes of Servillus Vatia, who, it seems, had long retired himself to the most pleasant part of the Baiae : there it was (says he) that this gentleman pass'd his time, and had never been known but from his famous solitude : no man eat nor drank Ep. 55. 544 better : he had rare fish-ponds and parks (1 suppose he kept good hawks and excellent dogs), in sum, he was thought the only happy man ; for arrive what would, as to change in the Commonwealth, Vatia still enjoy 'd himself; and O Vatia (they us'd to say) tu solus sets vi- vere : for my part (adds my author) I never pass'd by his house, but I cry'd Vatia hie situs est; "Here lies Vatia," esteeming him as dead and buried, whom others thought the only man alive : but he proceeds ; There are a number * (says he) who seem to have abandon'd the world, that are as full of businesse in their villas and rural retirements as other men who live in towns and cities, and trouble themselves extreamly in their verv solitude : though there be no body with them, yet are they never in repose : of these we must not say their life is idle, but an idle occupation. Do you fancy him retired that goes a madding after me- dals and curiosities, and spends his time in raking a tinker's shop for a rusty piece of copper ? or that is dieting and breathing his jockies for the next running match ? or that consumes his time trifling amongst barbers, razing and sprucing himself, powdering, combing, and sum- moning a council upon every hair ; raging like an Hector at a slip of the scissars, or a lock out of curl ; and of which sort of wretches are some who had rather see the commonwealth out of order than one of their hairs : call you these retir'd and at rest, who are so eternally inter pec- tinem speculumque occupati ? or those who are alwaies humming or whistling of a tune as they go about ? These persons (says Seneca) are not in repose, but impertinently active. If at any time they make a feast, there's nothing more pretty than to observe, but the grave con- sultations about plaiting of the nappery, ordering the plate and glasses, and setting out the services : O how sollicitous shall you have them, that the courses come up in time ; that the fowl be skilfully carv'd, and the sauces exquisitely made ! and all this forsooth that men may say, such a one knows how to treat, lives handsomely, and at his ease, &c. when, God knows, all this while they are of all other in the most mise- rable anxiety. There were of these soft and retir'd gentlemen, that had their oflBcers to mind them, when 'twas time to go to supper, and aban- * De Brevitate Vitae, c. 11, 12. 545 doned themselves so prodigiously to their ease, that they hardly knew when they were hungry. I read of one of them, who when he was lifted out of his bath, and put on his cushion, asked his attendant whether he sate or stood, and was so buried in sloth that he could not tell It with- out witnesses. Such another we have in Stobseus, that was wont to demand of his men if he had wash'd, and whether he had din'd or no ? 'Twere endless to proceed with the like instances of retir'd persons, and who seem to be so full of self-enjoyment, and yet whose verv pleasures are of the lowest and sordid'st actions of our life. What shall we then say of our lazy Gamesters, who sit long at the cards, the wine, and the smoke, without a grain of sense from dinner to midnight } because they are all of them slothful diversions, inactive, and opposed to publick em- ployment : since those who are cjualified with business, and have any thing to do in the world, cannot part with such portions of their time to so httle purpose : by all which we see, that ease and solitude presents us with some pleasures that are not altogether so fit for our recreation, and as little suitable to our reason and stoical indifFerency ; nor seldom less dangerous and ridiculous in their objects than the most publick em- ployment : for I find that one of the chief prerogatives of our happy-man (and whom by a contradiction to his argument, he thinks ill defin'd by being termed a little world) is by the advantage of his recess to mould ideas of a thousand species, never yet in being ; and, to use his own ex- pression, produces more monsters than Africa itself; more novelties than America ; to fancy building navies, courts, cities, and castles in the air. On the other side, do we think that men of business never vacate to admire the works of Nature, because they possess so many works of Art ? I have sufficiently shew'd how competent philosophy is with pubHck employment; and instanc'd in as great persons as ever the world pro- duc'd ; and yet I said nothing of Moses, learn'd in all that ^gypt knew * ; nor of Solomon, to whom God gave wisdom f and understand- ing exceeding much ; that spake of trees and plants ; of beasts, fowls, fishes, and reptiles ; those fruitful subjects of natural experience ; and * Acts vii. 2'i. f 1 Reg. iv. 29—33. 4 A 546 as to that of Astrology, and those other parts of Mathematics which he mentions, we have deriv'd to us more science from princes, Chaldean, Arabian, and -Egyptians, than from all the world besides. The great Caesar was so skilful, that with admirable success he reformed the year, when to perfect that sublime knowledge he was wont (even when his army lay in the field) to spend so much of his time in studious pernoc- tatlons. media inter praslia semper Stellarum, Coeliqiie plagis, superisque vacarit. — Lucan. Alphonsus, the tenth King of Spain was author of those tables which adorn his memory to this day : and Charles the Second, Emperor of Germany, was both a profound astronomer and great mathematician ; arts which have been so conspicuous and lucky in princes and men of the most public employment ; as if those high and lofty studies did in- deed only appertain to the highest, and most sublime of men. But if the unmeasurable pursuit of riches have plung'd so many great ones into vices, and frequently become their ruine ; we may find more private persons, who neither built, feasted, nor gam'd, as greedy and oppressive ; defrauding even their own bellies, and living in steeples, squalid cottages, and sordid corners, togratifieanunsatiable avarice ; and that have no other testimony to prove they have liv'd long, besides their ease, their avarice, and the number of their years. None to appearance more wise and religious than these wretches, whose apology is commonly their declining of power, and contempt of worldly vanities. The sole difference which seems to be between them is, that the great rich man disposes of his estate In building some august fabrick or public work, which cultivates art, and employs a world of poor men that earn their bread ; and that the other unprofitably hoards it up : besides, that co- vetousness seldom goes unaccompanied with other secret and extermi- nating vices. But the wisest of men has said so much, and so well con- cerning this evil under the sun, that I shall only need address you to his book of Vanities. As for the recreative part of solitude, which he again resolves here into hunting, hawking, angling, and the like, would any man think it in earnest, when he undertakes to oppose them to an useful and active life ? But even as to these also, who is fit more to 547 enjoy them than those that can best support them ? whereas they are pleasures which for the most part undo private persons, and draw expences along with them, to the ruine of some no inconsiderable families. For the rest which he mentions as sinful and of so ill report, I cannot suppose that all great men affect them, because I know of many who detest them ; nor that all private persons use them not, because I know of too many which do. The greatest persons of employment are frequently the simplest and plainest in their apparel, and enjoy that prerogative above the meaner sort, that they can make their ease the mode, and can adopt it into fashion without any note of singularity. Herein, therefore, I suppose they are worthy of imitation ; for I suppose he will not rank the gallants of the anti-chambers and Hectors of the town amongst the garhati and men of fashion in the sense of his essay. For my part, I take no more notice of these gay things than of so many feathers and painted kites that the giddy air tosses about, and therefore cannot so much as consider them in a paragraph. The same may I affirm of food as of cloaths ; for though great men keep noble tables (or at least should do), yet no man constrains them to intemperance, and if they be persons of real employment indeed, they will procure as good an appetite to their meat as those who thrash, and do the most laborious exercise ; and the affairs of many are so methodical and regular, that there is nothing more admirable than their excellent oeconomy, besides the honour of their hospitality, which I take to be an evangelical and shining virtue*; not to prsetermit the benefit which even a whole country receives by liberal tables, for so the grazier and the farmer are made able to pay their rents, assist the publlck, and support their families. So that when he has done all, and run through all the topics of his promising frontispiece, turn'd it to all sides and lights, he is at last, I find, oblig'd to acknowledge, that publlck employment and an active life is at least necessary, nay, preferable, even in his own estimation of it. For if (as he says) it be the object of our duty, it is un- * Rom. xii. 1.3. 1 Tim, iii. 2. Tit. i. 8. 1 Pet. iv. 9. 548 doubtedlv to be preferr'd before our choice, since the depravedness of our nature renders that (for the most part) amiss. We seldom elect the best. He v.'ould have men in employment, only he would have them drawn to it (like bears to the stake), or never to serve their country till it were sinking ; as if a statesman or a pilot could be made on an instant, and emerge a politician, a Secretary of State, or a souldier, like Cincinnatus from the plough ; but no man certainly is made an artificer so soon. N^emo repentc, says the proverb, and I suppose there is required as much dexterity, at least to the making of a statesman, as to the making of a shooe, and yet no man sets up that mystery without an apprentice- ship. The truth is, and I confess, this petulant and hasty pretending of men to places of charge in the commonwealth, without a natural aptitude, a previous and solid disposition to business, is the bane of states. Men should not immoderately press into employment ; 'tis a sacred thing, and concerns the well-being of so great a body, as nothing can be more prejudicial to it than the ignorant experiments of state emperics and new counsellors, though I do not deny that some young persons are of early hopes, and have in all ages been admitted to no mean degrees of access. Augustus, Tyberius, and Nero, enter'd very young into affairs, and Pompey we know triumphed betimes. Let men be early great on God's name if men be early fit for it ; they shall have my vote. And 'twas very wittily said of one of the Scipios (who was another young gentleman of early maturity), se sat annorum habiturum, si P. Ro. voluerit, that he should soon be old enough if the people pleas'd ; and accordingly the people thought fit to send him general into Spain, which he reduc'd into a Roman province by his valour and discretion, when so many older men refus'd the charge, for the difficulty of the enterprise and the miscarriage of their predecessors. Great men, therefore, should not, like overgrown trees, too much shade the subnascent plants and young imps, who would grow modestly under their influence ; but receive, protect, and encourage them, by inductive opportunities and favourable entrances, to inform and produce their good parts, preserving the more arduous difficulties to the aged and more experienc'd. This noble and worthy comity of great men in place, 549 Plutarch has much commended in that excellent discourse of his, ^n sent gei'enda sit Repiib. But, as I said, it became not every one to aspire; so I cannot but pronounce it glorious to those who are accom- plish'd for it, and can be useful to their generation in the most important affairs, and alleviation of the common burthen. But if all wise persons who have qualified genius's, cannot attain to be (as it were) intelligences in these sublimer orbs of publick administration, let them gratifie them- selves yet with this, that (as the philosopher says) every virtuous man is a magistrate, and that Seneca, Zeno, Chrysippus, and infinite others, have done as much for the publick by their writings and conversation only, as the greatest politicians of their times ; and withal consider, how difficult a province he assumes who does at all engage himself in publick business : since if he govern ill he shall displease God, if well, the people. At least call to mind the prudent answer of Antisthenes, who, being demanded quomodo ad Rempub. accedendum, how he should address himself to publick affairs, reply'd as to the fire : neither too neer, for fear of scorching, nor yet too far off, lest he be starv'd with cold. And I confess the suffrage is so axiomatical with me, that I know no mediocrity I would sooner recommend to a person whom I lov'd ; whilest as to an absolute and final retreat, though it appear indeed great in story, provided the resignation be not of compulsion, I should in few cases approve the action ; 'tis (as Seneca has it) ex vivoricm numero exire antequam morieris, to die even before death, and as afterward he adds, ulti7num malorimi. Counsel is with the gray head * ; and for the man whom experience in publick affairs has rlpen'd and consummated to withdraw aside, prfEsages ill. With reverence be it spoken, no man putting his hand to that plow, and looking back, is fit for so high a service \. I know not whose advice it is, that since governors of states and men of action, favourites and prime ministers, cannot always secui'e them- selves of envy and competition ij;, they should so order circumstances as sometimes to hold the people in a kind of appetite for them, by letting them a little feel the want of their influence and addresses to solve and dispatch the weighty and knotty affairs of state. For thus did the * Job. xii. 13. t Luke, ix. 62. % Plutarch prcec. de Repub. regend. 550 / African Scipo retire into the country to allay his emulous delators, and some others have more voluntarily receded, but frequently without success ; for as envy never makes holiday, so nor does distance of place protect men from her malignity ; and therefore Seneca * does some where describe with what flying colours men of business (even in the greatest infelicities of times, and when, it may be, there is a kind of necessity of more caution) should manage their retreat from action. But in the mean time, let those who desire to take their turns attend, in the name of God, till it fairly invites them. I am not for this prseposterous rotation suggested in our essay ; 'twas born to Oceana, and I hope shall never manage the Scepter, save in her romantick commonwealth ; since, should great men foresee their employments were sure to determine in so short a space, the temptation to rapine and injustice (which he there instances in) would prove infinitely more prejudicial. Frequent changes of officers are but like so many thirsty spunges, which affect only to be fiU'd, and invite to be squeez'd ; and therefore 'twas wittily insinuated by the apologue, that the fox would not suffer the hedge-hog to chase away the flies and ticks that sucked him, lest when those were replete, more hungry ones should succeed in their places. But the rest is clos'd with a florid apology for ease (not to give it a less tender adjunct), in the specious pretences of contemplation and philosophy, oppos'd to those little Indifferent circumstances, which the vainer people, who yet converse with the world without any considerable design, are obnoxious to ; whilst there's no notice taken of the vanity of some men's contem- plations, the dangers and temptations of solitude, which has no other occupation superior to that of animals, but that it thinks more and acts less, and cannot in his estimate be wise or happy without being morose and uncivil. Doubtless action is the enamel of virtue; and if any instance produc'd in that large paragraph merit the consideration, it is when it exerts itself in something profitable to others ; since those who have derived knowledge the most nicely, according to the philosophy he so amply pleads for, to degrade man of his most political capacityf (ranking him beneath bees, ants, and pigeons, who affect not company more passionately than man), allow him society as one of the main » De Tranq. c. 3. f 1 EHi. c 2. 551 ingredients of his definition ; and 'tis plain immanlty, says Cicero, to flie the congress and conversation of others, even when Timon was not able to endure himself alone ; no, though man had all that nature could afford him to render him happy, society only deny'd him, quis tarn esset ferns ? who could have the heart to support it ? solitude alone would embitter the fruits of all his satisfactions. And verily solitude is repugnant to nature ; and whilst we abandon the society of others, we many times converse with the worst of men — our selves. But neither is the life and employment of our sociable creature taken up (as has sufficiently been shew'd} in those empty impertinencles he reckons, nor as a Christian in ideas only, but in useful practice ; and wisdom is the result of experience, experience of repeated acts. Let us therefore rather celebrate public employment and an active life, which renders us so nearly ally'd to virtue, defines and maintains our being, supports society, preserves kingdoms in peace, protects them in war; has discover'd new worlds, planted the Gospel, encreases knowledge, cultivates arts, relieves the afflicted ; and in sum, without which, the whole universe it self had still been but a rude and indi- gested chaos. Or If (to vie landskips with our Celador) you had rather see it represented in picture, behold here a Sovereign sitting in his august assembly of Parliament enacting wholesome laws ; next him my Lord Chancellor and the rest of the reverend Judges and Magistrates dis- pensing them for the good of the people ; figure to yourself a Secretary of State, making his dispatches and receiving intelligence ; a Statesman countermining some pernicious plot against the commonwealth ; here a General bravely embattailing his forces and vantpiishlng an enemy ; there a colony planting an island, and a barbarous and solitary nation reduc'd to civility ; cities, houses, forts, ships, building for society, shelter, defence, and commerce. In another table, the poor relieved and set to work, the naked clad, the oppress'd dellver'd, the malefactor punlsh'd, the labourer busied, and the whole world employed for the benefit of mankind. In a word, behold him in the neerest resemblance to his Almighty Maker, always in action, and always doing good. On the reverse, now represent to yourself, the goodliest piece of the creation, sitting on a cushion picking his teeth ; his country-gentle- man taking tobacco, and sleeping after a gorgeous meal ; there walks a 552 contemnlator, like a ghost in a church-yard, or sits poring on a book whiles his family starves ; here lies a gallant at the feet of his pretty female, sighing and looking babies in her eyes, whilst she Is reading the last new romance, and laughs at his folly ; on yonder rock an ancho- rite at his beads ; there one picking daisies, another playing at push- pin, and abroad the young potcher with his dog and kite, breaking his neighbours' hedges or trampling o're his corn for a bird not worth six- pence : this sits basking himself in the sun, that quivering in the cold; here one drinks poyson, another hangs himself; for all these, and a thousand more, seem to prefer solitude and an inactive life as the most happy and eligible state of it. And thus have you land-skip for your land-skip. The result of all is, solitude produces ignorance, renders us bar"barous, feeds revenge, disposes to envy, creates witches, dispeoples the world, renders it a desart, and would soon dissolve it : and if after all this, yet he admit not an active life to be by infinite degrees more noble ; let the Gentleman whose first contemplative piece* he produces to establish his discourse, confute him by his example ; since I am confident, there lives not a person in the world whose moments are more employed than Mr. Boyle's, and that more confirms his contemplations by his actions and experience ; and if it be objected, that his employments are not publlck, I can assure him, there is nothing more publick than the good he's always doing. How happy in the mean time were it for this ingenious adventurer, could it produce us more such examples, were they but such as himself; for I cannot imagine, but that he who writes so well, must act well ; and that he who declaimes against Publick Employment in Essay, would refuse to essay a Publick Employment that were worthy of him. These notices are not the result of inactive contemplation only, but of a pub- lick, refin'd, and generous spirit ; or if in truth I be mistaken, 1 wish him store of proselytes, and that we had more such solitary gentlemen that could render an account of their retirments, and whilst they argue against conversation (which is the last of the appanages he disputes against), prove the sweetest conversation in the world. * Seraphic Love ; or, some Motives and Incentives to the Love of God, By the Hon. Robert Boyle. 8vo. 1660. AN IDEA OF THE PERFECTION OF PAINTING, DEMONSTRATED FROM THE PRINCIPLES OF ART, AND BY EXAMPLES CONFORMABLE TO THE OBSERVATIONS WHICH PLINY AND QUINTILIAN HAVE MADE UPON THE MOST CELEBRATED PIECES OF THE ANCIENT PAINTERS, parallel'd with some works of the most famous modern painters, LEONARDO DA VINCI, RAPHAEL, JULIO ROMANO, AND N. POUSSIN. WRITTEN IN FRENCH BY ROLAND FREART, SIEUR DE tAMBRAY, AND RENDERED ENGLISH By J. E. Esquire, Fellow of the Royal Society. IN THE SAVOY : PRINTED FOR HENRY HERRINGMAN, AT THE SIGN OF THE ANCHOR, IN THE LOWER WALK OF THE NEW EXCHANGE. 16G8.— Octavo, pp. 1*4. 4 B "2S Aug. 1668. Published my book of 'The Perfection of Painting,' dedicated to Mr. Howard." The foregoing was Evelyn's own notice of his Translation of M. Frean"s French tract ; but the only original article added by him, was the Dedication, which follows the pre- sent note. " This excellent ' Idea,' very lately come out of the London press, in thin 8vo, is drawn in that manner, as that 'tis demonstrated from the principles of art, and by examples conformable to the observations which Pliny and Quintillian have made upon the most celebrated pieces of the an- tient painters ; parallel'd with some works of the most famous modern painters, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael Urbino, Julio Romano, and N. Poussin. "Those principles of art, constantly observed by the antients in this work, are here enumerated to be five: — 1. Invention, or the History. 2. Proportion, or Symmetry. 3. Colour (as herein is contained tlie just dispensation of lights and shades). 4. Motion, in which are expressed the ac- tions and passions. 5. The regular position of the figures of the whole work; of which the in- vention and expression are more spii'itual and refined ; the proportion, colouring, and perspective, the more mechanical part of this art. " The works made use of among those of our most eminent painters, for applying those princi- ples unto, are, 1. The Judgment of Paris. 2. The Massacre of the Innocents. 3. Our Lord's De- scent from the Cross, all three by Raphael. 4. The Last Judgment of Michael Angelo. 5. The Representation of a vast Cyclop, in a narrow table by Tiraanthes. 6. Imitation of the same kind, by Julio Romano. 7. The Gymnasium, or Academy of the Athenian Philosophers, by Raphael. S. The Seven Sacraments, by Poussin, the real parallel of that famous master-piece of Timanthes upon the sacrifice of Iphigenia. " All this is now represented in English with so much perspicuity, and rendered so weig'nty by every period of the excellent interpreter's addition, that it justly deserves high recommendation, and will, doubtless, animate many among us to acquire a perfection in pictures, draughts, and chalcography, equal to our growth in all sorts of optical aydes, and to the fulness of our modern discoveries. Painting and Sculpture are the politest and noblest of antient arts, true, ingenuous, and claiming the resemblance of Life, the emulation of all beauties, the fairest record of all appear- ances, whether celestial or sublunary, whether angelical, divine, or humane. And what art can be more helpful, or more pleasing to a philosophical traveller, an architect, and every ingenious me- chanician ; All which must be lame without it." — Phil. Trans, vol. iii. No. 39. p. 784. 555 TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS HENRY HOWARD, OF NORFOLK, HEIR-APPARENT TO THAT DUKEDOM. Sir, There is no man who has heard of the house of Norfolk, and espe- cially of that of Arundel and Surrey, but will justifie the resolution I have taken to inscribe your name in the front of this piece; since the names of Painting and Sculpture (two of the most celebrated and re- nowned arts that ever appear'd in the world) had scarce been known amongst us in England, but for your illustrious Grandfather*, who brought into and adorn'd this nation with more polite and useful things than it had received for some ages before, and who continu'd a Mecse- nas and protector of all the sublimer spirits, as long as this island was worthy of him, which was as long as it remained loyal. I have great reason to consecrate thus his memory, of whose more particular favours I have so frequently tasted both at home and abroad ; especially in Italy, where I had the honor to be cherish'd by him, and from whence I afterward receiv'd one of the last letters that ever he writ, which I reserve by me amongst the choicest of my treasures. From him, through a most illustrious Father, this affection to great and noble things is deriv'd to you. Witness, the asylum which the Royal Society found in your own palace, when the most fierce and mer- ciless of the elements subverted her first abodes ; and now (besides other accumulations) your fr^e and glorious donation of a fonds upon your own ground ; to establish her on for ever, and fix her at your very threshold, by which you not only oblige the most grateful and useful Assembly that any age has produc'd ; but do honor likewise to his * Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, justly celebrated for his large collection of Sculpture, Design, and Painting. He died at Padua in 16-16. 556 Majesty, our founder, by signifying your respect so eminently to his Royal Institution *. But, Sir, I have something yet to add, and the very stones would even exclaim against me, should I omit your never-to-be forgotten munifi- cence to the University of Oxford ; because it was upon my first and sole suggestion (for instigation, the generosity of your nature needs not,) that you were pleas'd to inrich that renowned seat of the Muses with a greater gift than all the world can present It, because the world cannot shew such a Collection of Antiquities ; and this great thing you did. * About the year 1645, several ingenious men, who resided in London, and were interested in the progress of mathematics and natural philosophy, agreed to meet once a week to discourse upon subjects connected with these sciences. The meetings were held sometimes in Dr. God- dard's lodgings, in Wood-street, because he kept in his house an operator for grinding glasses for telescopes ; sometimes in Cheapside ; and sometimes in Sir Thomas Gresham's house, which stood on the East side of Winchester-street, fronting to Bishopsgate-street. In 1648 and 1649, several of these gentlemen being appointed to situations in the University of Oxford, instituted a similar society in that City, in conjunction with several eminent men already established there. The greatest part of these Oxford gentlemen coming to London in 1659, held their meetings twice a week in Gresham College, in New Broad-street, by permission of the Professors of the founda- tion of Sir Thomas Gresham, and on the 15th July 1662 were incorporated by Royal Charter. About the beginning of 1667, Mr. Henry Howard, afterwards Duke of Norfolk, at the instigation of John Evelyn, made the Society a present of the Arundel Library, which had been purchased by his grandfather, during an embassy to Vienna. It had formerly been part of the libraiy of Mat- thew Corvinus, King of Hungary, erected by him at Buda, in 1485, and after his death, in 1490, it came into the possession of Bilibaldus Pirckeimerus, of Nuremburg, who died in 1530. At the same time, Mr. Howard gave the Society convenient apartments in Arundel House in the Strand, where, according to Evelyn (see " Diary," vol. I. p. 380), they held theii- first meeting 9th January 1667, and to which they removed, becatise Gresham College had been rendered unfit for that purpose in consequence of the Fire of London. In 1673 they were invited back to Gresham College, bv a deputation of the Professors and of the Mercers' Company; and were induced to accept the offer because their apparatus and collection of curiosities were deposited theie, and because Mr. Hooke, their operator, resided in that building. A grant of old Chelsea College had been given them by King Charles II. and they formed the project of converting it into a house proper for their meetings. Lord Henry Howard had likewise made theiii a present of a piece of ground near Arundel House (alluded to by Evelyn in this Dedication), upon which they resolved to build convenient apartments by subscri])tion. But neither of theso designs was put into execu- tion. They at last purchased a veiy convenient house in Crane-court, Fleet-street, in which they continued to hold their meetings, till the British Government, about forty years ago, fmnished them with apartments in Somerset House, where their meetings have ever since been held, and their library and apparatus deposited. See Thomson's History of the Royal Society, 4to. 1812; and Pennant's, London. 557 when you plac'd the Marmora ArundeHana there*. First, the Greek, and then the Latine Inscriptions ; hy which you not only nohly con- sulted the most lasting way to perpetuate your name in the learned world, and gave eternity to those (almost) obliterated titles, by transferring them to a less corrosive ayr ; but did likewise a piece of justice, and piety too, in restoring that to the daughter, which came from the mo- ther, and consigning those antiquities to Oxford, which were taken away from Athens. Sir, in my Letter to you into Surrey (now about a year since) con- cerning this largesse, I cannot forbear to repeat a line or two, which was to move your honor in one particular more ; and that is, that you would one day cause the choicest of your statues, basse relievos, and other noble pieces of Sculpture, standing in your galleries at Arundel-house, to be exquisitely design'd by some sure hand, and engraven in copper, as the late Justiniano set forth those of Romef , and since him (and seve- ral others) Monsieur de Lion-Court, by the draughts of Perrier^, as for- merly that incomparable historical Column of the Emperor Trajan, was cut by Villamena, with the notes of divers learned men upon them : be- cause by this means, the world might be inform'd in whose possession those rarities are ; and that it would so much contribute to the glory of the couiitrey, their illustrious owner, and his family; as it has formerly, and yet does, to those noble Italians, and great persons beyond the Alps, who have not been able to produce such a collection as you are furnish'd with, but who are honor'd and celebrated for it all the world over, by this virtuous and yet no very expenseful stratagem. I was the rather incited to mention this here, because I understand there are some learned persons now at Oxford, adorning a new impres- sion of the Marmora §, in which such a work could not pass without due * See Diary, Sept. 19, 1667, vol. 1. p. 388. t Galleria March. Giustiniana, 2 vol. Rom. 1631. X Statuae Antique, P.oin. 1638, folio. § Of the publications to which J. Evelyn excites the Duke of Norfolk, there were four separate editions, bearing the following titles : 1. Marmora ArundeHana: sive Saxa Graeco incisa ex venerandis priscae Orientis Glorias Ruderi- bus, auspiciis et impensis Herois lUustrissimi Thomae Comitis Arundelliae et Surria;, Comitis Mares- calli Angliae, pridem vindicata et in ./Edibus ejus Hortisque cognominibus, ad Thamcsis Ripam, 558 veneration, and would prove a considerable ornament to the designe ; and, indeed, because the argument of the discourse I am entertaining your honour with (dedicated lately to the French king's onely brother) does prompt me to it, as my very great obligations, to subscribe myselfe, Illustrious Sir, your most obedient, and most humble servant, Says-Court, J. Evelyn. June 24, 1668. disposita : publicavit et commentariolos adjecit Joannes Seldenus, I. C. Lond. 16<29, 4to; re-printed by H. Prideaux, with additions, folio, Oxford, 16*6. 2. Marmorum ATundellianorum, Seldenianorum, aliorumque, Acaderaise Oxoniensi donatorum : cum variis Commentariis et Indice M. Maittaire. Lond. 1732, folio, with 19 plates on the letter- press. 3. Marmora Oxonieiisia : edidit R. Chandler. Folio, Oxon. 1763, 76 plates. 4. Marmorum Oxoniensiiim Inscriptiones Graecse ad C'handleri cxempla editae, curanti Gul. Roberts, A.M. Octavo, Oxon. 1791. 26S pages. 559 TO THE READER. I DID once think, and absolutely resolve, that I had for ever done with the drudgery of translating of books (though I am still of the opi- nion, that it were a far better and more profitable work to be still dig- ging in that mine, than to multiply the number of ill ones by produc- tions of my own) ; but this small piece coming casually to my hands, and from an author whose knowledge of the most polite and useful arts has celebrated him abroad ; and upon a subject I had formerly bestowed some reflections on; partly, in that "Parallel of Architecture " (which from the same hand, I not long since publish'd for the assistance and encouragement of Builders), and partly in my " History of Sculpture ;" I did believe I might do some service, not only to Architects and Sculp- tors, but to our Painters also, by presenting them with this curious trea- tise, which does, I think, perfectly consummate that designe of mine, of recommending to our countrey, and especially to the nobless, those three illustrious and magnificent arts, which are so dependent upon each other, that they can no more be separated than the very Graces them- selves, who are always represented to us holding hand in hand, and mu- tually regarding one another. The Reader will find in this discourse (though somewhat vei'bose, according to the style of this overflowing nation) divers useful remarks ; especially, where he treats of costume, which we have interpreted de- corum, as the nearest expression our language will bear to it; and I was glad our author had reprov'd it in so many Instances ; because it not only grows dally more licentious, but even ridiculous and intollera- ble. But it is hop'd this may universally be reform'd, when our modern workmen shall consider, that neither the exactness of their designe, nor skllfulness in colouring, has been able to defend their greatest predecessors from just reproaches, who have been faulty in this particular. 1 could exempllfie in many others whom our author has omitted; and there is none but takes notice what Injury It has done the fame of some of our best reputed painters ; and hov/ in- 560 decorous it is to introduce circumstances wholly improper to the usages and genius of the places where our histories are suppos'd to have been acted. This was not only the fault of Bassano, who would be ever bringing in his wife, children, and servants, his dog and his cat, and very kitchin stuff, after the Paduan mode ; but of the great Titian himselfe, Giorp-ione, Tintoret, and the rest ; as Paolo Veronese is observ'd also to have done, in his story of Pharaoh's daughter drawing Moses out of the river, attended with a guard of Swisses. This puts me in mind of that piece of Mabugius in his majesties gallery at Whitehall, which not only represents our first parents with navils upon their bellys, but has plac'd an artificial stone-fountain carv'd with imagerys in the midst of pa- radise *. Nor does that excellent and learned painter Rubens, escape without being perstring'd, not onely for making most of his figures of the shapes of brawny Flemmings, but for other sphahnata and circum- stances of the like nature ; though in some he has acquitted himself to admiration in the due observation of costume, particularly in his crucifixes, &c. as I might largely exemplifie. Raphael Urbino was doubtless one of the first who reform'd these inadvertencys ; but it was more conspicuous in his latter, than in his former piece. As for Michael Angelo, though I heartily consent with our critic in reproving that almost idolatrous veneration of his works, who had cer- tainly prodigiously abus'd the art, not only in the Table this discourse arraigns him for, but several more which I have seen ; yet I conceive he might have omitted some of those imbitterr'd reproaches he has revil'd him with, who doubtless was one of the greatest masters of his time ; and (^however he might succeed as to the decorum) was hardly exceeded for what he perform'd in sculpture and the statuary art by many even of the antients themselves, and happ'ly by none of the moderns; witness his Moses, Christo in gremio, and several other figures at Rome ; to say nothing of his talent in architecture, and the obligation the world has to his memory, for recovering many of its * This painting is described in Vertue's Catalogue of King Charles's Collection as " a defaced old picture at length, being Adam and Eve, intire figures, being little less than the life, ])aiuted upon a board, in an old defaced gilded frame." It is stated in a MS note to the copy in the Editor's possession to be at this time in the Palace of St. James. 561 most useful ornaments and members, out of the neglected fragments which lay so long buried ; and for vindicating that antique and mag- nificent manner of building, from the trifling of Goths and Barbarians. The next usual reproach of painting, has been the want of judge- ment in perspective, and bringing more into history then is justifiable upon one aspect, without turning the eye to each figure in particular, and multiplying the points of sight ; which is an error into which our very author (for all the pains he has taken to magnifie that celebrated decision of Paris) has fail'd in ; for the knowing in that art do easily perceive, that even Raphael himself has not so exactly observ'd it ; since instead of one (as Monsieur de Cambray takes it to be, and as indeed it ought to have been), there are no less than four or five, as Du Bosse has well consider'd in his late Treatise of the Converted Painter; where by the way also, he judiciously numbers amongst the faults against costume, those landskips, grotesques, figures, &c. which we frequently find (abroad especially, for in our countrey we have few or none of those graceful supplements of steeples) painted horizontally, or vertically on the vaults and cielings of cupolas ; since we have no examples for it from the antients, who allow'd no more than a frett to the most magnificent and costly ones which they erected. But would you know from whence this universal caution in most of their works proceeded, and that the best of our modern painters and architects have succeeded better than others of that profession ; it must be consider'd that they were learned men, good historians, and gene- rally skill'd in the best antiquities. Such were Raphael, and doubtless his scholar Julio ; and if Polydore arriv'd not to the glory of lettera, he yet attain'd to a rare habit of the ancient Gusto, as may be inter- preted from most of his designs and paintings : Leon Baptist Alberti was skill'd in all the politer parts of learning to a prodigy, and has written divers curious things in the Latine tongue. We know that of later times Rubens was a person universally studied, as may be seen in several Latine epistles of his to the most famous scholars of his age : and Nicholas Poussin, the Frenchman, who is so much celebrated, and so deservedly, did, it seems, arrive to this culture by his indefatigable in- dustry ; as the present famous statuary Bernini, now living, has done to 4 c 562 so universal a mastery ; that not many years since, he is reported to have built a theatre at Rome, for the adornment whereof he not only cut the figures, and painted the scenes, but writ the play, and compos'd the musick which was all in recitativo. And I am perswaded that all this is not yet by farre so much as that miracle and ornament of our age and countrey, Dr. Christopher Wren, were able to perform if he were so dispos'd, and so encouraged ; because he is master of so many admir- able advantages beyond them. I alledge these examples partly to incite, and partly to shew the dig- nity and vast comprehension of this rare art; and that for a man to arrive to its utmost perfection, he should be almost as universal as the orator in Cicero, and the architect in Vitruvius : but certainly some tinc- ture in history, the optics, and anatomy, are absolutely requisite, and more (in the opinion of our author) than to be a steady designer, and skill'd in the tempering and applying of colours, which, amongst most of our modern workmen, go now for the onely accomplishments of a painter. I had once thoughts to have added the stamps and prints themselves, which our author does so critically discourse upon ; but then considering that as this piece is of most use to the virtuosi, and that such as are curi- ous must needs already be furnish'd with them ; and that it had been doubtless impossible to have procur'd originals sufficient to adorn this impression, and would have immensely exalted its price (I myself having been oflPer'd twenty shillings but for one of them), I soon laid those in- tentions aside : besides that our author has also publish'd his book with- out them, and to have gotten them well copied, had been equally dif- ficult. J. Ev^ELYN. THE HISTORY THREE LATE FAMOUS IMPOSTORS; PADRE OTTOMANO, MAHOMED BEI, AND SABATAI SEVI. THE ONE, PRETENDED SON AND HEIR TO THE LATE GRAND SIGNIOR ; THE OTHER, A PRINCE OF THE OTTOMAN FAMILY, BUT, IN TRUTH, A VALACHIAN COUNTERFEIT; AND THE LAST, THE SUPPOSED MESSIAH OF THE JEWS, IN THE YEAR OF THE TRUE MESSIAH, 1666. WITH A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE GROUND AND OCCASION OF THE PRESENT WAR BETWEEN THE TURK AND THE VENETIAN. TOGETHER WITH THE CAUSE OF THE FINAL EXTIRPATION, DESTRUCTION, AND EXILE OF THE JEWS OUT OF THE EMPIRE OF PERSIA. IN THE SAVOY: PRINTED FOR HENRY HEHRINGMAN, AT THE SIGN OP THE ANCHOR, IN THE LOWER WALK OF THE NEW EXCHANGE. 1669. 565 TO THE Right Honourable HENRY LORD ARLINGTON, &c. PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE. My Lord, These ensuing Discourses intitle their original to the noble industry and affection to truth of an illustrious person, and to the great and worthy ingenuity of a Persian stranger lately amongst us *, from whose mouth I have received the two following first narrations, and from whom I have been abundantly satisfied, that the particulars are of un- doubted verity. For the third and last, which concerns the story of that impudent Jew, it will need little apology ; since it proceeds not onely from an eye-witness, but from the hand of a person who has already gratified the publique with the fruit of many rare and excellent observations, and which becomes due to your Lordship upon a just claim ; so as your Lordship having been so pleased with the first rela- tion, cannot be less with the following, though I should never have presum'd to be their deferent in this unpolish'd dress had I not receiv'd some assurances of your pardon. It will doubtless appear very strange, that impostures of this magni- tude should so long abuse the world, were there no other interest in it than the vanity of the persons who assume to themselves the titles : whatever the reason of it be, here we have matter of fact ; and it was more than time the world should at last be disabus'd which has been so long impos'd on, and even labour'd under the common mistake, that the cause of this obstinate war and quarrel 'twixt the Turk and the Venetian was grounded onely upon the taking of Sultan Osmon and his mother (pretended son and wife of Sultan Ibrahim) by the gallies of Malta. This was, my Lord, the believed report at my being at Venice the very year this action fortun'd ; and it has since gain'd credit, and * Signor Pietro Cisij. See Diary, vol. I. p. 394. 566 fill'd our ears, and all the histories of this age, as a thing unquestion- able, hut with what pretence of truth these papers will both inform your Lordship, and give day to some other passages worthy the notice of inquisitive men, and of a conjuncture so seasonable for it, while the eyes and thoughts of all Europe are intent upon the success of Candia. What concerns the Valachian vagrant will be a service both to his Majesty and other Christian princes whom this bold Impostor has had the front to abuse ; but, erijyitur persona — the mask is now off; and 1 have no more to add, than that of being. My Lord, Your Honors most obedient, obliged, and humble servant, J. E. 56; TO THE READER. The great Scaliger was wont commonly to say, omnis historia bona, that all history was good ; meaning, that it was worthy of notice so it were true and matter of fact, though the subject of it were never so trivial. This, though but a pamphlet in bulke, is very considerable for the matter it containes, and for that it endeavours to informe and dis- abuse the world of a current error, which has mingled and spread it selfe into divers grave relations that have been printed, and confidently published many yeares without suspition. How I came to be enlightened for these pieces, I have in part declared in my dedicatory addresses ; and if I forbear to publish the name of that intelligent stranger, and that other person, from whom I receiv'd my informations, you are to know that it is not out of fear of being detected of impostures, whil'st we declare against it, and which cannot serve any interest of the relators, but because, being strangers, or itine- rants, and one of them upon his return into his native country (which may possibly engage them to passe by Malta, and other Levantine parts obnoxious to these Discourses), it would appear but ingrateful in us to expose them to an inconvenience. Let it suffice, to assure you, that they are persons of no mean parts, ingenuity, and candor ; well ac- quainted with the Eastern countrevs and affaires, and that have them- selves been witnesses of most of these transactions. It were to be wish'd that our Christian Monarchs had alwayes near them some dextrous person of this gentlemans abilities, were it but to discover such cheates, as frequently appearing under the disguise of dis- tressed princes, merchants, &c. are, in truth, but spies and bold impos- tors, and whom otherwise 'tis almost impossible to detect, not to sug- gest the many other good offices, as to the Eastern commerce and affaires, they might be useful in : but this is more than I have commis- sion to say, from those who have no other design in what they relate than their affection to truth. It is not yet a full year since there went a crafty varlet about the countrey, who pretended himself to be the brother 568 of the famous Peter Serini (whose brave and herolck actions had so celebrated him against the Turkes), and related a story by his feign'd Interpreter, how he fortun'd to be cast on shore on the West of Eng- land, as he was conducting supplies from abroad. This he perform'd with a confidence and success so happily, as caus'd him to be receiv'd, presented, and assisted (like another Mahomed Bei) by divers persons of quality, and some of them my nearest acquaintance, in his pretended journey to court ; but being at last discover'd in a tipling-house on the rode, where, un-mindful of his part and character, he call'd for a pot of ale in too good English, and a more natural tone than became so great a stranger, and the person he put on, we heard no more of the game- ster. I wish our Fin-land spirit, who is of late dropt out of the clouds amongst us, prove not one of his disciples, for the age is very fertile, and I am told that our Mahomed having receiv'd his Adjuda de Costo from the bounty and charity of a great person of more easie belief, is slipt aside for fear of the porters-lodge; and yet 'tis possible you may hear more of him before his ramble be quite at a pei'iod. You have at the end of the last Impostor an account of the Jews exile out of that vast empire of Persia, happening but the other day ; which, together with the miscarriage of their late Messiah (the twenty-fifth pretender of it, as I am credibly inform'd it stands in their own records), it might, one would think, at last open the eyes, and turne the hearts of that obstinate and miserable people : but whil'st the time is not yet accomplish'd, I could wish our modern enthusiasts, and other prodigious sects amongst us, who dreame of the like carnal expectations, and a temporal monarchy, might seriously weigh how dearly their characters approach the style and design of these deluded wretches, least they fall into the same condemnation, and the snare of the devil. 569 THE HISTORY OF PADRE OTTOMANO, THE FIRST IMPOSTOR*. Sultan Ibrahim began his I'eign in the year 1049, according to the Turkish Hegira or period, which was of our style anno 1640. He was about nine years Emperor, and had born to him (after the first three years) a son nam'd Mahomed, who is the present Grand Signior now swaying the Ottoman scepter : the Hasaki or Great Sultana, his mother ("for by that adjunct of Great she is distinguished from the rest of that high title), being extreamly weak after her delivery, necessitated them to seek out and provide a fitting nurse for the new-born infant. But, before we can proceed in the event of that, some other circumstances require the readers attention. It fortun'd that from the year 1640 to 1644 there liv'd in Constanti- nople one Giovanni Jacobo Cesii, native of Persia, but descended from a noble family in Rome, who, being by profession a merchant, did use to traffique not onely in this port, but held commerce likewise in divers other places of the Levant ; so as being a man of more than ordinary note, he came at last to be particularly favour'd by the Grand Signiors chief eunuch, whose name was Jumbel Aga, otherwise called Kuslir Agasi, a- great minion of Sultan Murad, who deceasing a while after, his following successor confirm'd to him his former charge, which was to take care of the ladies, who were kept in the seraglio, and superintended the women (for so the name imports), nor is the dignity of less esteem than that of the vizier himself, within the precincts of the seraglio ; since it intitules him to the same access to the emperor his lord and master, whom he serves as pimp of honour, if there be any true honour in so vile an employment. * 13 Feb. 16C9. I presented his Majesty with my " Historie of the Fonie (Three) Imj-osters ;'" he told me of other like cheates. 1 gave my booke to Lord Arlington, to whom I dedicated it. — It was now that he began to tempt me about writing " The Dutch War." " Diary," vol. I. p. 397. This narrative is reprinted almost verbatim in Knolles's History of the Turks, edited by Sir P. Rycaut, folio, vol. II. p. 55. 4 D 570 This Kusllr Aga, eunuch as he was, would for all this be thought a lover of women, because it is the style of the countrey, and a mark of good breeding and courtly grandeur. It was upon this occasion that he one day sent for Jacobo Cesii, and desir'd that he would search out and purchase for him the most elegant and handsome wench he could possibly light upon amongst such slaves as are daily expos'd to sale in the Turkish dominions. The merchant was not long ere he happen'd upon a very beautiful creature, of a mo- dest countenance, and, as near as could be guess'd, a virgin. He bought her, and brought her to the Aga, who being extreamly taken with her shape and mien, pay'd him for her 450 dollars, which was the price she was valued at. But this pretty girle had, for all her simpering and innocent demeanour, been corrupted, it seems, before she came to the eunuch ; and after some time that she had been with him (for he kept her in a house of his own, and not in the seraglio) was suspected to be with child. Her lord was wonderfully importunate to sift out who it was that might be the father of the offspring ; but she would by no means be induc'd to discover it, which so incensed him, that the Aga forthwith causes her to be turn'd out of doores ; and thus for some time she remained in disgrace, though in the house of his major domo, to whom he had given her to be disposed of, till she was at last brought to bed of a goodly boy. Some time after the child was born, the Aga, whether mov'd with compassion or curiosity, we need not enquire, begins to discover a most passionate desire to see the little bastard, which was no sooner brought to him, but, being exceedingly pleas'd with the babe, he immediately orders it a rich vest, and other fine things to wear, though it was then not above eight or nine moneths old ; commanding that it should still be kept in his stewards house, where it was born. It fortun'd, that not long after was the birth of the present Turkish emperor; and the Great Sultana (as we said) being indisposed, the grand Aga was sent for to provide a nurse for the young prince, that care belonging likewise particularly to his charge : immediately the Aga reflects upon his disgrac'd slave, whom he speedily sent for to him, and brought to court (together with her pretty by-blow, the present Padre 571 Ottomano), recommending her for a nurse to the royal infant ; upon which account she stay'd near two whole years in the seraglio. Sultan Ibrahim (father of the young prince) during this time grew so taken with the nurses boy, as being much a lovelier child than his own, that he became infinitely fonder of him, which so inraged and displeas'd the Great Sultana, who being now no longer able to dissemble her resent- ment, grew in wroth with Ibrahim, and gave a second and more cruel exilement to the unfortunate nurse and her darling child, whom she banish'd out of the seraglio, and could never after abide the Aga that introduc'd them. This violent action of the Sultana made, you may imagine, a foul house in the court, and it grew at last to that height that the Emperour (who took it greatly to heart, his pretty favourite should be thus thrown out of the seraglio), running one day to the Sultana, he snatches his son out of her arms, and threw him into a piscina, or large fountain, which was near them, where he had like to have been drown'd. This pas- sionate and unnatural action of Ibrahim inrag'd the Sultana now more then ever against the Aga, so as she sought all occasions possible to put him to death, as imputing the ill-nature of her loi'd the emperor to some wicked impressions of his favorite; but chiefly, for his bringing the fair slave and her bastard into the seraglio. The continual hatred and machinations of the G. Sultana caused the Aga to consult his safety; and besides, he was not a little apprehensive of the capricious and unconstant humour of Ibrahim, who being of a weak complexion and understanding, he feared might in time be wrought upon by the Sultana to destroy him ; and therefore makes suit to the Emperour that he would permit him to go on pilgrimage to Mecha, since absence might possibly mitigate her fury ; and for that he was now grown aged, and less capable of doing him service in his charge, which he desired he would give him leave to resign. But Ibrahim, finding him by long experience to be a discreet person, and one that had faithfully served the Emperour his brother, would by no means hearken to his request, or permit him to go from him ; since, as the constitution of the seraglio stands, that had been for ever to have depriv'd him of a servant whom he so dearly loved. For you are to 572 understand, that whoever obtains leave to go that holy pilgrimage is ipso facto made free: no eunuch belonging to the seraglio (being slaves of honour to the Grand Signior) can obtain his liberty but by the Emperours especial grace ; which also entitles him to a certaui annual pension, arising from the revenue of Grand Cairo, set apart for such rewards. And for this reason it was, that Ibrahim was very unwilling to part with his eunuch : however, being vanqulsh'd at last with his continual importunity, and for that it was upon condition, that notwith- standing the custome and style of tbe seraglio in such cases, he should go but as his slave, and, having perform'd his devotion, return to him again, and to the office which he would have reslgn'd ; he grants him his request. Upon this stipulation he dismisses his favourite, and the eunuch prepares for his journey in the caravan of Alexandria, the Grand Signior having at that time never a man of war in the port. The whole fleet consisted of but eight vessels, whereof Giafer com- manded the first ; Mahumed, the second ; Arab Ogli, the third (this Arab Ogli was partner with the above-named Glo. Jacobo Cesll) ; Cura Mahumed commanded the fourth; Meml, the fifth; Bodur, the sixth; Nicola, a Christian, the seventh ; and Janl, another Christian captain, the eighth, who brought up the rear. These being ready to set saile, the Aga embarkes with his family, and whole equipage (amongst which was his beautiful slave and her little son), in the first ship, whereof, as we said, Giafer was commander. And now directing their course towards Alexandria, thev touch'd a while at Sclo (an Island in the Archipelago), where lingering some little time, they happen'd to meet with a certain Dominican fryar (well beloved of the chief of the country), whom, for a former prevarication with them in matter of reli- gion, they would needs have constrained to abjure his faith, and become a Turke ; which the religious man refusing to do, the cruel eunuch caus'd him to be immediately burnt alive. This was in the year 1644. Loosing from Sclo, they were surpriz'd with a dismal tempest, which caus'd them to put in at Rhodes, where they were likewise forc'd to continue for some days ere they durst adventure out ; but at last pur- suing their intended voyage from thence (being now about 15 leagues distant from Rhodes), they discover six gallles. It fortun'd to be a 573 great calme, and yet they were hardly within ken, so as to distinguish what they were ; yet supposing they might be the gallies of Bailo (who are certain Turkish guardians of the Archipelago) that were making towards them, they seem'd not to be so much concern'd ; but when a little after they came to find their mistake, and that they be- longed to Malta, they were strangely surpriz'd, and in great confusion what to resolve on, for divers vessels of their company were so dis- pers'd, by reason of the calme, that they could not possibly joyn them for want of wind. This happen'd upon the tenth of May, in the year 1644. Well, for all this, the Aga resumes courage, prepares for the conflict, and, upon their approach, begins bravely to defend himself. The fight continues for some time very fiercely on either part, and not without mutual loss, till by an unlucky broad-side from one of the Malta-gallies the eunuch receives a cannonade on his breast, which dash'd him into the sea; and at that same instant fallen dead the fair Sciabas (for so was that female slave nam'd, a Russe by nation, and mother of our Padre Ottomano), without any mark or wound, or so much as the least bruise to be found, which made divers believe she dy'd of very fright and ap- prehension ; and with these perish'd likewise divers others in that vessel, upon which the rest immediately struck saile, and submitted to mercy. The Maltezes now boarding their prizes, and seeing so many women, eunuchs, and other passengers (for, as we recounted, one of these ves- sels was wholly taken up by the Aga and his domesticks), asked, what pretty child that was ? The distracted people, partly out of terror, and haply, upon hope of better quarter, tell them, that he was the son of Sultan Ibrahim, going to Mecca to be circumcis'd. Greatly pleas'd with their success, they set saile immediately for Malta, where the hopes of their fancied prize had so far exalted them, that they soon noys'd it over all Chrlstendome, that they had taken the Grand Signiors son, and the Sultana his mother, with many like stories that pass'd about the world for current, and it galn'd credit, and was indeed gene- rally bellev'd by themselves : nay, the whole Colledge and Religious of Malta were so elated and possess'd with the conceit of it, that they began seriously to consult of proposing an exchange for Rhodes, which 574 had been their antient seat, and which they almost made themselves as o-ood as sure of. The Great Master and the Grand Crocl were absolutely of this opi- nion, and did thereupon write letters to Constantinople, to Smyrna, and to several other places and correspondences, to certifie where they might find their young prince, and his mother, provided they would come up to their conditions. For though she were dead in the combate, yet it seems they had either drest up a property to personate her amongst the she-slaves that were taken, or willing to have it believed so, and both her own and the portrait of her young son were painted to the life, and familiarly sold in Italy and France, for the better confirmation of this beliefe ; but after long expectationti^ receiving no answer to their satis- faction, they begin to be in some doubt, and could not well divine what to make of it, and whether they were not all this while deluded of their boast, and entertain'd in suspense to abuse them ; for so it appears they were to the very year 1649. But how far this contributed to the quar- rel with the Venetians, whom they unexpectedly surpriz'd soon after, will be made appear by the sequel. It was in this year that the person who gives us this information returning from Rome, where he had finish'd his studies in the Colledge de propaganda Fide, into his native country of Persia, happen'd in his journey to arrive at Malta, where making some stay, he came to be known to divers of the Order, and principal persons there ; as, namely, to the Treasurer, several of the Grand Croci, to the Great Master him- self, the Commandator, the General of the gallies, and most of the no- bility. The Grand Master was then Johannes Lascaris, the Grand Commandator, Monsieur de la Helle, the General, Monsieur de Beau- champ, &c. to omit the rest. These enter into a solemn consultation, what was to be done to sift out the truth and value of their prize ; that is, to know whether the child were indeed Sultan Ibrahims son or not; and finding this person, as they conceiv'd, a fit instrument for their pur- pose, being well experienc'd in the Turkish language, and the cus- tomes of their country, and for some other relations of his at the Porte, and one who had given thein good marks of his capacity and faithfulness, they resolve to dispatch him forthwith to Constantinople, accompanyed 575 onely with three or four Turkish slaves, who had redeem'd themselves, and with instructions to their Envoye how the design was to be managed. Signior Pietro (for so we will now call him) sailes from Malta; arrives at Constantinople ; makes friends in the Seraglio ; enquires with all the sedulity imaginable, whether any child of the Grand Signiors were missing : and whether it were true, that the Hasaki, or Great Sultana, had some years since been lost, or taken by the Malteze in her pilgrim- age towards Mecha, &c. But after all the diligence he could possibly triake, he could never discover any likelihood, or so much as shadow of it. In sum, he finds there was not a syllable of it true; and that the Religion * of Malta had all the while but abused themselves in their cre- dulity, and all Christendom in the report of it. Pietro writes back to the Religion, and assures them by many indubitable evidences, nay oathes and affidavits, which he had procur'd, and several other effects of his diligence, that it was all imposture, and that they ought to give credit to the romance no longer, or hope for the least advantage by it. This was in the year 1650 ; for so long, and somewhat longer it was, ere they would be dis-abus'd. And now at last they begin to defide themselves, and by little and little to let their boasting dye, and to neg- lect any farther ceremony to their pretended royal captive; in short, they now grew very cold, hardly made any more account of him ; yet so, that having for a long time abus'd the world, as asham'd at their credulity, and to prevent reproach, they continually endeavour'd to have it still thought true ; and therefore gave the boy the title of Ottomano, which he weares to this day, non per dignita (sayes our ingenious in- former) ma per la vanita. This is the true and real history of the so much talk'd-of Padre Ot- tomano, and consequently of that groundless and vulgar opinion which has been spread so long about, that this accident alone was the onely source and cause of the Grand Signiors quarrel with the Venetians, but of which there is so little appearance ; the interest of that republick being so different from that of the Malteze, who are sworn never to be at peace with those miscreants ; whil'st the Venetians, on the contrary, were in a profound and un-interrupted league with them. * Viz. of the Knights of Malta. 576 It is indeed commonly pretended, that, contrary to a stipulation with the Grand Signior, the Venetians had protected the Knights of Malta, after this exploit of surprizing the Sultana and her son, going with an infinite treasure to Mecha ; but the truth is, finding no occasion to com- mence the war upon this suggestion, they give out another, and which is believed was the more real ground of it. In the reign of Sultan Amurat, there were destroy'd and burnt by the Venetians no less than five and twenty Fusti Barharesche, or Barbary gallies, who were rovers and pyrates upon those seas, and greatly infested the commerce ; these they attaqu'd in the Port of Avelona, demolishing withal their castle. Complaint hereof being made to Morat (or Amurat), he was provok'd to declare war against them as the first aggressors ; thouo^h in truth this had been no violation of any article between them. However, upon their earnest instigation, Amurat seems highly to resent the affront, as done against his allies. Hereupon the Venetians offer to o-ive them two galeasses in satisfaction, and to pay for all the losse which they had sustain'd. But in this interim the Grand Signior in- gag'd in the war at Babylon, dyes soon after his return, and leaves the quarrel to his brother Ilirahim ; who, insensed also somewhat more for the vessels that were destroy'd, upon the neck as it were of this, by the Malteze, when Padre Ottomano was taken by them, and his favorite Ao-a slain (his design, Avhich was first against the Malteze failing), without the least pretence of renewing his predecessors quarrel with the Venetians, or declaring any formal war, with a fleet of near 500 saile, he lands an army of threescore thousand men near the city Canea, and in little time became master of that, and of the whole kingdome be- side ; Candia the metropolis. Spina Longa, Carbusa, Suda, and some very few posts more excepted, and leaves the pursuit of this war to his son Mahomed, who has continued it to this present day. By what ac- cident the Malteze contributed to the fatal rousing of this immane lyon we have seen, but without the least appearance of intituling it to the merit of this supposititious child and his mother, upon which yet it is so vulgarly and so weakly founded. But what may farther elucidate the utter impossibihty of Padre Otto- raano's title, as heir to that family, 'tis notoriously known, that the last 577 Emperor of the Turks (father to the Sultan now reignhig) never had but three sons ; that the present Grand Signior was always the eldest ; and that the other two (by an extraordinary eflPect of their brothers good-nature, or address of the present Valadlr or dowager) are still living in the seraglio, out of whose precincts they are never allow'd to stir abroad, but in company of the Grand Signior, and under the strict- est guard. Next, that no prince of the Ottoman blood, or the Sultana herself, does ever travel to any place whatsoever out of the palace, but when the Emperor goes himself in person. This being so, how proba- ble and likely it is he should hazard the Great Sultana, and the heir of the crown in a weak and ordinary caravan, with so small an equipage, and so little concernment for their losse as never so much as to treate about their release, &c. let any rational man determine upon mature con- sideration, and prospect of the circumstances. Besides, as our intelligence argues, and assures us, those of Malta are so Insatiably covetous, that if they could sell even the verv Malteze themselves, they would not stick to make monev of them ; and that it is familiar with these holy Corsaires to spoil all the Oriental Christians without distinction, who come in their way; neither regarding their faith nor their profession : so as when ever they surprize any miserable slaves, who for the dread of torment have been forc'd to turne renega- does, but would now most chearfully revert to their faith again ; the Malteze will not hearken to them, but sell them a second time to the Turkes, to satisfie their prodigious avarice. How much more then (as our informer concluded) had it been to their advantage, to have sold this pretended royal boy, being a natural Turke, than to have suffer'd him to become a Christian ? But they reserv'd him upon future hopes, and when they percelv'd that fail them, to rid their hands of the expense of the mock-state, they had so long been at, and yet to preserve their re- putation, make out their boast, and credit their religion ; they find a pretence of sending him to be bred In Italy, and now suffer him to be made a Dominican Fryar forsooth, under the pompous title of "Padre Ottomano." 4 E 578 THE STORY OF MAHOMED BEI, WHO CALLS HIMSELF, JOHANNES MICHAEL CIGALA ; BEING AT THE WRITING HEREOF IN THE COURT OF ENGLAND, WHERE THIS SECOND IMPOSTOR WAS FIRST DETECTED. The better to acquaint our reader with the successful impudence of this famous impostor, he is to understand, that this rodomontade has lately publish'd a book, at his being not long since in France, to which he has procur'd the French Kings licence, with all the formalities of it, which he intitles, " The History of Mahomet Bei, or John Michel de Cigala, Prince of the Imperial Blood of the Ottomans ;" to which he annexes other his dignities, Bassa and Soveraign Plenipotentiary of Jerusalem, and of the kingdome of Cyprus, Trebizond, &c. Dedicated to the French King, with a front of Steele*. In this treatise, or rather romance of his knight-errantry, he sums up the antiquity of the family of Cigala, which he extracts out of seve- ral grave and sober authors ; intituling it to most of the royal houses and crown'd-heads of Europe ; making himself at last to be descended from Scipio, son of the famous Vicount de Cigala, who was taken pri- soner by the Turkes, anno 1561, after that signal battel and victory of the great Andrea d'Oria. This Scipio being now a captive with his father, and perswaded to renounce the faith, was, as he pretends, ad- vanc'd to the dignity and charge of Grand Visier, by Solyman the Magnificent, under the new name of Sinan Bassa ; after that honour, he was made prime Aga, or Generalissimo of the Janizaries ; then Seraschier or General of the whole army ; sometimes higher, and some- times lower ; and at last again First Vizier, and Second Bassa of the Porte, and had, above all this, preferred to him in marriage several great ladies, whom he names, and among the rest, Canou Salie Sultana, * Originally printed in 12mo, in 1668, viz. " Histoire de Mahomet Bei auiourd'huy noinm^ lean Michel de Cigala, Prince du Sang Imperial des Ottomans." See Mor^ri, Dictionnaire Histoiique ; also, Les Impostures Insignes, par I. B. de Rocoles, 12mo, Amst. 1683, and published in English in 1686, octavo. 579 daughter of Sultan Achmet, sister of Osman, and Sultan Amurad (who took Babylon), and of Ibrahim, father to the Emperour now reigning. From this illustrious mother our Bei deriving himself, he goes on to relate the story of his princely education under the Mufti, and of the strange and prodigious accidents that advanc'd him first to Tephlici or Vice-roy of the Holy-land, where we have the miraculous dream and vision, and the assistance of the good hermite, and his own Christian physitian, by which he became converted to the faith, and diverted from his sacrilegious purpose of plundering the chappel of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem of the silver lamps, and other sacred treasure, which he reports to be there in great abundance ; but that still dissembling his profession, he got to be advanc'd to the government of Cyprus, &c. Here he acquaints the reader how he came to be made absolute com- mander of all the forces design'd against Candy ; and that being of the first who entred that city, he privately heard, and assisted at mass, de- llver'd many Christian slaves, &c. Hence, after two years gallantry, and notorious exploits (which no man ever heard of but himself) the succeeding Emperor constituted him Soveraign of Babylon, Caramania, Magnesia, and divers other ample territories. In his journey about these governments another miracle confirms him at Iconlum, by the wonderful luster of an inclosed Host, in which a splendid child appear'd through the chest or cabinet of a certain Christian woman that had procur'd and lock'd up a consecrated wafer, for fear of her jealous and unbelieving husband ; to this adding the phenomenon of no less than nine extraordinary and refulgent stars, which appear'd for divers nights over a place where certain Christians had lately been martyr'd. Coming back from Iconium to Candy a second time, he communicates his reso- lution of openly declaring his conversion, and consequently of quitting his high employments : but the poor Jesuit (his ghostly father) unhap- pily dies before it could be accomplished, and so, as fate would have it, does that other intimate confident of his designs, Lazaro Moccenigo, the Venetian General. Upon this disaster our Illustrious Bei conveys himself again to Constantinople, where he is made Vice-roy ofTrabi- sond, and Generalissimo of the Black Sea, in order to his purpos'd retreat. Upon the confines of this it was, that he trusts a vast treasure 580 of jewels, &c. to a great person whom he had redeemed out of slavery from the Tartars, and dispatch'd before him into JMoldavia, which was the rendezvous agreed upon, and where he had appointed to meet him upon the first opportunity of totally renouncing the Grand Signiors ser- vice, to declare himself the Christian, which he had hitherto but dis- guised.. Chamonsi (for so was this confidents name), in stead of receiv- ing his friend and benefactor at the place design'd, plotted with the Governour of Moldavia to have perfidiously surpriz'd and slain him ; but our Don Herchio Bei, after wondrous proofs of his valour, and giving death to almost all that oppos'd him, escapes their hands, though extreamly wounded : in this plight, he meets with a poor shepherd, with whom he changes his princely robes for the shepherds gi'ay coat, and travels on his ten-toes a tedious and unknown way for many days together. In this unfortunate encounter it was that he lost his faithful counsellour, another Jesuite, and all his glorious retinue, who were every one of them kill'd upon the spot, save one poor honest Jew, and in this lamentable condition came our devout prince on foot, and in the snow to the Cossaque army, then in hostility against the Muscovite, amongst whom he found three souldiers that he had formerly freed from Turkish captivity. These were the first who made his quality known to their chief, by whom he wa§^ civilly treated, and perswaded to honour Muscovy with his intended baptism : but our prince designing from the beginning to make his solemn profession at Rome, and receive that sacrament from his Holiness's own hands, the captain being, it seems, a schismatick, and of another church, neglects and despises him, whom he had hitherto so generously treated. Upon this the Prince steals se- cretly away from the Cossaques, and by the assistance of another vir- tuous Jew (who likewise knew him) he at last got safe into Poland, where the then Queen, Lovize de Gonzagues, hearing the report of his approach, and illustrious quality, receives him (as hitnself relates it) with infinite respect ; and, in fine, prevails with him to honour the cathedral of Warsovia with his baptism, which is perform'd by the Archbishop of the place, the Queen her self standing at the font, and giving the name of John, to our cousen german of the Ottoman Empe- rour. Here we have a relation of the extraordinary pomp of that cere- 5^1 monie, as well as of that of his confirmation, which dignified him with another name. Taking now leave of Warsovia, he travels towards Lauretto in pilgri- mao-e to our Lady; from thence he goes to Rome; at first incognito, making himself known onely to his sanctity, with a brief recapitulation of his adventures. This was to Alexander the Vllth, whose benediction receiv'd, he returns into Poland again to visit and pay his duty to his royal god-mother. In this journey he was known to divers great per- sons travelling through Germany, especially to the famous N. Serini *, and this being at a time when the Emperour was at difference with the Turk, our hero could not but shew some marks of his courage, and affection to the cause he had espoused, which he now signalizes, in not onely offering himself a voluntier, but by fighting hand to hand with the Turkish General himself, whom he kill'd upon the spot before both the armies, performing other stupendous exploits, which would have seem'd incredible had not himself related it. For this, and other his egregious services, his Imperial Majestic after a thousand caresses and presents of Infinite value, creates him Captain Guardian of his artillery, and 'tis a wonder how he escap'd the golden fleece. But nothing of all this would prevail with him to stay longer at Vienna. For the peace being now concluded, he returns incognito to Lauretto again, thence makes an excursion into Sicily to visit some alliances and great kindred, which he had living there. Excessive are the complements and presents that he received from the great princes of Germany and Italy in this progress. Arriv'd in Sicily, Don Pedro d'Arragon receives and treats him in his palace, and the whole city of Messina meet and attend him, acknowledging him of the illustrious house of the Cigala's, from which that Country had, it seems, received many great benefits. From Sicily he passes through Calabria towards Rome again, visiting divers of his friends and kindred in the way, and arriving at Naples has done him the same honors of the Vlce-roy and nobility there, and so by sea imbarks for Rome, into which he now makes his publike entry, and obtain'd audience accordingly of Clement * See Mor6ri, Diet. Historique, torn. IX. p. 364. 582 the IX**", before whom, In a bravado, he draws and flourishes his dread- ful cimeter, in token of his defiance of the enemies of the Church. Here it is you have him received, and presented by the Pope, the nephew, the Cardinals, Ambassadors, and in summe by all the nobility of this mis- tress of the world ; till resolving to bless France with his presence, touching a little at Venice and Turino, he at last arrives at Paris, where he was received of that great monarch, who no sooner hears of his arrival, but he forthwith commands the Duke of St. Agnan, with coaches and an equipage suitable to this princely guest, to introduce this glorious stranger. The King receives him according to his high quality, so nearly related to his antient allie the Turk ; and so does Monsieur the Dauphin, his Altesse-royal, and all the grandees of that Court, not for- getting the Grand Prior, and to be sure, the Knights of Malta, &c. a palace being assign'd him, and at last a present made him, no less than two chains of gold (they should have been doubtless something else) with the King and Queens effigies medallzed, at his taking leave of that kingdom. Thus far goes the printed relation of our Errant, I had almost said, recreant Knight, with the elogies Latine and French, which prepare the reader for the wonders and adventures ot his Lite. But now, if upon examination of all this geer and enormous rhap- sody, we take the boldness to deplume our gallant of his mutuatitious and borrow'd feathers ; and that our Ottoman Prince, who has brav'd it so long, and so successfully amongst the birds of feather, shall prove at last but a jack-daw. Spectatum admissi risiim teneatis, amici ? This impudent vagabond then, and pretended Mahomed Bei, that has indeed abused the French King, and bellev'd he should have done the same to his Majestic of England, is in fine a native of Walachia, born of Christian parents in the city of Trogovisti. They were formerly very opulent and well to pass, and his father in good esteem with the Prince Matthias Vaivoda of Moldavia. His father dying, our pretended Cigala was taken into the service of the Prince, as his father had been before him, and sent in the retinue of his resident to Constantinople about twenty years since ; after some time spent there, he returns into his 583 countrey, where he grew intimately acquainted with a married priest (as In that place they are permitted to be), and made love to his wife ; but the woman, the better to colour and conceal the familiarity and courtship that was between them, makes her husband believe he had a kindness for her daughter, and in so honourable and decent a way, that the simple man believes her, and entertaining him more hke a domestique now than a lover, suffers him even to govern his little family. But it seems our rampant Amoroso could not so govern him- self, but the priest began to suspect and discover his villany ; for either he did, or would have lain with both mother and daughter. Upon this he is complained of to the Vaivoda, who sought all means possible to have apprehended and executed him according to their law ; and that not only for this his inhospitable crime, but for sundry other most notorious delicts and misdemeanors, of which he had been for- merly convicted. But it seems, having timely notice of it, he gets away again to Constantinople, where he remained till the decease of Prince Matthias, after which he came back impudently into Walachia again, thinking all had been now forgotten, and that by some address or other he might procure to be receiv'd amongst the great men of his countrey ; but when upon some attempts that he made, he perceived they had discovered who he was, and would have laid hold on him, and chastiz'd him for his former insolencles ; to Constantinople he retires a third time, where, despairing after awhile of his designs at home, he makes himself Turk, and turns perfect renegado. Since these exploits he has rang'd from place to place about Chris- tendom, and in countries where he was wholly unknown, with that specious story, or rather monstrous imposture, of his being so nearly related to the present Grand Signlor, and the dignities and charges he has quitted for the love of Christ ; by which he has roam'd about the world, been caress'd and really presented by divers great persons, and especially by the French king, &c. With this confidence and expecta- tion he came lately into England, had the fore-head to present him- self and the legend of his life to his Majestic ; frequented the court in his Ottoman garb and Eastern mode, 'till a person of great quality, who had seen him the last year at Vienna in Austria (where he durst 584 pretend to nothing of all this), defeated the imposture, and a Persian gentleman, lately a stranger, and by meer accident here at that time, confirms this relation of him, from whose mouth we receiv'd it, to- gether with this account of the illustrious family of the Cigala, which, with a few reflections upon some passages of the pamphlet we men- tion'd (which does abundantly discover this audacious hypocrite), shall dispatch this second impostor. SiNEN Bassa, otherwise called Cigala, had but two sons, grand- children of Sultan Soliman. The eldest son of Sinen was named Alii, the second Mahomed. Alii deceas'd after his father Sinen, a little since, and the second remained alive. This Mahomed married the sisters daughter of Sultan Mahomed about the year of their Hegira 1003, and of our aera 1594, of which daughter he had born a son, called also Mahomed, after the name of his father. This youth was of a singular good disposition, ingenious, and of a sprit-full wit, with- out great ambition, or affecting of command, but addicted rather to the softer pleasures of life, and was in summe the darling both of Sultan Mahomet and Achmet, and indeed of all that succeeded in the empire to the reign of Sultan Mahomed Han, the present Grand Signior, who called him Giovan Capuci Pasha, a title the Emperor usually bestows on those who are dignified with the office of secret porters of the Seraglio, and whose charge it is to attend upon all extra- ordinary occasions, and that are sometimes dispatch'd to cut off the head of a Visier or Bassa, and such signal executions. This Capuci Pasha we find afterward made general in Candia, and by degrees ascended to be Grand Visier, but he enjoys not that honor long, for he died in that war about fifteen or sixteen years since. This is what we can yet discover concerning Sinen, otherwise Cigala. But there is, indeed, besides this, another verv noble familv of the Cigalas about Scio ; who are, 'tis believed, a branch of the race of the Genoveses, and who are at present called at Scio, Cigal Ogli, which imports as much as to say, as son of Cigali, or sons of Meni Pasha Cig'ala. This Meni Pasha had two sons that arriv'd both to be Bassas and 585 captains of gallies ; one of which was called Beker Pasha, the other Holeln Bassa. Beker died some while since, and Holein is yet, 1 sup- pose, living; it is not to he believed that our Impostor Mahomed Bel is brother to Holein, as he somewhere boasts himself, because It is against all ajjpearance of truth ; neither is it probable, that though some of the Clgali might he merchants, that therefore any of them should go into Christendom to change their religion, and renounce a government so great and glorious, as that of being sole Moderator of the whole Ottoman empire (for to no less does this impostor pretend), without that ever we should hear of it but from his own trumpet. If conjecture may be admitted in this case, how this braggadocio comes to assume the name of Cigala, 'tis possible his fathers name may be found to have been Cigo ; which sounding near that of Cigala, might prompt him to usurp the title of that illustrious house. There are innumerable instances throughout his legend which fall under the same suspicion ; some whereof are notorious falsities, divers of tiiem incongruous and contradictory ; and if there were no other than that of his egregious ignorance in the Turkish language, (which he pretends to be his maternal tongue, but blatters very imperfectly,) besides his gross unskllfulness in the Ottoman court and Oriental affairs, it were sufficient to disabuse the world, and to brand him for a most impudent Impostor. Some Passages out of his Book animadverted. Page 14. That the Viscount Cigala dying in Constantinople in the time of his captivity, his funeral was openly solemniz'd by permission of Solyinan ; his corps publiquely carried through the town with the cross and holy water, followed and accompanied by all the aml)assadors of Christian Princes then at the Porte, and all the religious orders of the city, to the church of St. Francis, where he was interred according to the forms of Christian burial; almost every particular of which carries a notorious confutation, as all who understand any thing of that time and place do well know. Page 1. Selim made Cipio Cigala Visier, and second Bassa of the Porte. Consider if this were likely, that being a descent ; and 4 F 586 Page 21. Whether to be Captain Bassa be a greater honor than to be Prime Vizier ? Page 45. Whether the Grand Signior uses to permit any officer to suspend execution, or use ceremony in decollation, when he is the high- est incensed ? Page 58. Whether there be any such treasures of plate, &c. and other precious things among the poor Friers at the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Page 86. Whether the Turks make use of any Christian physicians ? Page 90. Whether the war with the Venetian was onely for the surprising of Ibrahims eldest son, by the Knights of Malta, with the Sultana his mother, as she went to have him circumcised at Mecca ? which we have already confuted. Page 112. 'Tis to be considered how timely he makes his two Jesuits and Maccenigo die, the chief and onely authentique testimonies of his conversion and pretended exploits. Page 150. That this happens to be known by none save two or three poor slaves, and as many Jews, neither of which appear with him. Page I67. That he produces not his story 'till after the death of both the Queen of Poland his god-mother, and, I suppose, the Arch- bishop too, who he pretends to have baptiz'd him. Page 16/. The Captain Guardianship of the Emperor's artillery, is (as we are informed) no more than Master of the Carriages ; which is all he had to produce here for his grand diploma, without a word of any thing else to the purpose of the rest of his high pretences. 587 THE HISTORY OF SABATAI SEVI, THE PRETENDED MESSIAH OF THE JEWES, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, \666. THE THIRD IMPOSTOR. According to the predictions of several Christian writers, especially of such who comment on the Aj)ocalyps, or Revelations, this year of 1666 was to prove a year of wonders, of strange revolutions in the world, and particularly of blessing to the Jewes, either in respect of their conversion to the Christian faith, or of their restoration to their temporal king- dome ; this opinion was so dilated, and fixt in the countreys of the re- formed religion, and in the heads of fanatical enthusiasts, who dreamed of a fift monarchy, the downfall of the Pope, and Antichrist, and the greatness of the Jewes; in so much, that this subtle people judged this year the time to stir, and to fit their motion according to the season of the modern prophesies ; whereupon strange reports flew from place to place, of the march of multitudes of people from unknown parts into the remote desarts of Arabia, supposed to be the Ten Tribes and halfe, loste for so many ages. That a ship was arrived in the northern parts of Scotland with her sails and cordage of sllke, navigated by mariners who spake nothing but Hebrew ; with this motto on their sails, the Twelve Tribes of Israel. These reportes agreeing thus near to for- mer predictions, put the wild sort of the world into an expectation of 'Strange accidents this year should produce in reference to the Jewish monarchy. In this manner millions of people were possessed, when Sabatai Sevi first appear'd at Smyrna, and published himself to the Jewes for their Messiah, relating the greatness of their approaching klngdome, the strong hand whereby God was about to deliver them from bondage, and gather them from all partes of the world. It was strange to see how the fancy took, and how fast the report of Sabatai and his doctrine flew through all partes where Turkes and Jews inhabited ; the latter of which were so deeply possessed with a bellefe of their new klngdome, 588 and riches, and many of them with promotion to offices of government, renown, and greatness, that in all parts from Constantinople to Buda (which it was my fortune that year to travel) I percelv'd a strange trans- port in the Jevves, none of them attending to any business uidess to winde up former negotiations, and to prepare themselves and families for a journey to Jerusalem. All their discourses, their dreames, and disposal of their affaires, tended to no other design but a re-establishment in the land of promise, to greatness, glory, wisdome, and doctrine of the Messiah, whose original, birth, and education are first to be recounted. Sabatai Sevi was son of Mordechai Sevi, an inhabitant and natural of Smyrna, who gained his livelihood by being broker to an English marchant in that place ; a person, who before his death was very decre- pit in his body, and full of the goute, and other infirmities ; but his son, Sabatai Sevi, addicting himself to study, became a notable proficient in the Hebrew and metaphysicks, and arrived to that point of sophistry in divinity and metaphysicks, that he vented a new doctrine in the law, drawing to the profession of it so many disciples as raised one day a tumult in the synagogue, for which afterwards he was by a censure of the chochams (^who are expounders of the law) banished the city. During the time of his exile he travelled to Thessalonica, now called Salonica, where he marryed a very handsome woman ; but either not having that part of ceconomy as to govern a wife, or being impotent towards women, as was pretended, or that she found not favour in his eyes, she was divorc'd from him. Again, he took a second wife, more beautiful than the former, but the same causes of discontent raising a difference between them, he obtained another divorce from this wife also. And being now free from the incumbrances of a family, his wan- drlng head mov'd him to travel through the Morea, thence to Tripoli in Syria, Gaza, and Jerusalem ; and by the way picked up a Ligernese lady, whom he made his third wife, the daughter of some Polonian or German, her original and parentage not being very well known. And being now at Jerusalem, he began to re for me the law of the Jewes, and abolish the Fast of Tamuz (which they keep in the moneth of June) ; and there meeting with a certain Jew called Nathan, a proper instrument to promote his design, he communicated to him his condi- 589 tlon, his course of life, and intentions to proclalme hlmselfe Messiah of the world, so long expected and desired by the Jewes. This design took wonderfully with Nathan, and because it was thought necessary, according to Scripture and antient prophesies, that Elias was to pre- cede the Messiah, as St. John Baptist was the fore-runner of Christ, Nathan thought no man so proper to act the part of the prophet as himself; and so no sooner had Sabatai declared himself the Messiah, than Nathan discovers himself to be his prophet, forbldiiig all the fasts -of the Jewes in Jerusalem, and declaring, that the bridegroom being come, nothing but joy and triumph ought to dwell in their habitations, writing to all the assemblies of the Jewes to perswade them to the same bellefe. And now the schisme being begun, and many Jewes really believing what they so much desired, Nathan took the courage and boldness to prophesie, that one year from the 27th of Kislen (which is the moneth of June) the Messiah shall appear before the Grand Signor, and take from him his crown, and lead him in chaines like a captive. Sabatai also at Gaza preached repentance to the Jewes, and obe- dience to himself and doctrine, for that the coming of the Messiah was at hand : which novelties so affected the Jewish Inhabltanls of those partes, that they gave up themselves wholly to their prayers, almes, and devotions ; and to confirme this bellefe the more. It happen'd that at the same time that newes thereof, with all pertlculars, were dis- patched from Gaza, to acquaint the brethren In foreign partes, the rumour of the Messiah hath flown so swift, and gained such reception, that intelligence came from all partes and countreys where the Jewes inhabit, by letters to Gaza and Jerusalem, congratulating the happiness of their deliverance, and expiration of the time of their servitude, by the appearance of the Messiah. To which they adjoyned other prophe- sies relating to that dominion the Messiah was to have over all the world: that for nine moneths after he was to disappeare, during which time the Jewes were to suffer, and many of them to undergoe martyr- dom ; but then, returning again, mounted on a celestial Ivon, with bis bridle made of serpents with seven heads, accompanyed with his bre- thren the Jewes who Inhabited on tlie other side of the river Sabatlon, 590 he should be acknowledged for the sole monarch of the universe, and then the Holy Temple should descend from Heaven, already built, framed, and beautified, wherein they should offer sacrifice for ever. And here 1 leave you to consider how strangely this deceived people was amused, when these confident and vain reports and dreams of power and kingdomes had wholly transported them from the ordinary course of their trade and interest. This noise and rumour of the Messiah having begun to fill all places, Sabatai Sevi resolved to travel towards Smyrna, the country of his nati- vity, and thence to Constantinople, the capital city, where the princi- pal work of preaching was to have been performed. Nathan thought it not fit to be long after him, and therefore travels by the way of Da- mascus, where, resolving to Continue some time for better propagation of this new doctrine, in the meane while writes this letter to Sabatai Sevi, as followeth : 22. Kesvan of this year. To the King, our King, Lord of our Lords, who gathers the dis- persed of Israel, who redeems our captivity, the man elevated to the height of all sublimity, the Messiah of the God of Jacob, the true Mes- siah, the Coelestlal Lyon, Sabatai Sevi, whose honour be exalted, and his dominion raised in a short time, and for ever. Amen. After having kissed your hands, and swept the dust from your feet, as my duty is to the King of Kings, whose majesty be exalted, and his empire enlarged, these are to make known to the supreme excellency of that place, which is adorned with the beauty of your sanctity, that the word of the King, and of his law, hath enlightened our faces : that day hath been a solemn day unto Israel, and a day of light unto our rulers, for immediately we applyed our selves to performe your commands, as our duty is. And though we have heard of many strange things, yet we are couragious, and our heart is as the heart of a lyon ; nor ought we to enquire a rea- son of your doings, for your workes are marvellous, and past finding out : and we are confirmed in our fidelity without all exception, resign- ing up our very souls for the holiness of your name. And now we are come as far as Damascus, intending shortly to proceed in our journey to Scanderone, according as you have commanded us; that so we may 591 ascend, and see the face of God in light, as the light of the face of the king of life: and we, servants of your servants, shall cleanse the dust from your feet, beseeching the majesty of your excellency and glory to vouchsafe from your habitation to have a care of us, and help us with the force of your right hand of strength, and shorten our way which is before us : and we have our eyes towards Jah, Jah, who will make hast to help us, and save us, that the children of iniquity shall not hurt us, and towards whom our hearts pant, and are consumed within us ; who shall give us tallons of iron to be worthy to stand under the shadow of your asse. These are the words of the servant of your servants, who prostrates himself to be trod on by the soles of your feet, Nathan Benjamine. And that he might publish this doctrine of himself and the Messiah more plainly, he wrote from Damascus this following letter to the Jewes at Aleppo, and parts thereabouts : To the residue or remnant of the Israelites, peace without end. These my words are, to give you notice, how that I am arrived in peace at Damascus, and behold I go to meet the face of our Lord, whose majesty be exalted; for he is the sovei'eign of the King of Kings, whose empire be enlarged. According as he hath commanded us and the 12 tribes to elect unto him 12 men, so have we done* : and we now go to Scanderone by his command, to shew our faces together, with part of the principal of those particular friends to whom he hath given licence to assemble in that same place. And now I come to make known unto you, that though you have heard strange things of our Lord, yet let not your hearts faint, or fear, but rather fortifie your selves in your faith, because all his actions are miraculous and secret, which humane understanding cannot comprehend, and who cannot penetrate the depth of them. In a short time all things shall be manifested to you clearly in their purity ; and you shall know, and shall consider, and be instructed by the inventor himself; blessed is he who can expect, and * Siibatai wrote a leUer to elect one man out of every tribe. 592 arrive to the salvation of the true Messiah, who will speedily publish his authority and empire over us, now and for ever. Nathan. And now all the cities of Turky where the Jewes inhabited were full of the expectation of the JNIessiah ; no trade nor course of gaine was fol- lowed : every one imagin'd that dayly provisions, riches, honours, and goveriiment, were to descend upon them by some unknown and mira- culous manner; an example of which is most observable in the Jewes at Thessalonica, who now, full of assurance that the restoration of their kingdome, and the accomplishment of the time for the coming of the Messiah was at hand, judged themselves obliged to double their devo- tions, and purifie their consciences from all sins and enormities which might be obvious to the scrutiny of him who was now come to pene- trate into the very thoughts and imaginations of mankinde. In which work certain chochams were appointed to direct the people how to regu- late their prayers, fasts, and other acts of devotion. But so forward was every one now in his acts of penance, that they stay'd not for the sen- tence of the chocham, or prescription of anv rules, but apply'd them- selves immediately to fasting : and soire in that manner beyond the abilities of nature, that having for the space of seven dayes taken no sustenance, were famished to death. Others buried themselves In their gardens, covering their naked bodies with earth, their heads onely ex- cepted, remained in their beds of dirt until their bodies were stifned with the cold and moisture : others would endeavour to have melted wax dropped upon their shoulders ; others to rowle themselves in snow, and throw their bodies in the coldest season of winter into the sea, or frozen waters. But the most common way of mortification was first to prick their backs and sides with thornes, and then to give themselves thirtv nine lashes. All business was laid aside ; none worked or opened shop, unless to clear his warehouse of merchandize at any price ; who had superfluity in household-stuffe sold it for what he could, but yet not to Jewes, for they were Interdicted from bargaines or sales, on the pain of excomnmnlcation, pecuniary mulcts, or corporal punishments ; for all bHsiness and employment was esteemed the test and touchstone of their 593 faith. It being the general tenent, that in the dayes that the Messiah ap- peares, the Jewes shall become masters of the estates and inheritance of the infidels, until when they are to content themselves with matters onely necessary to maintain and support life. But because every one was not master of so much fortune and provision as to live without dayly labour, therefore to quiet the clamours of the poor, and prevent the enormous lives of some who upon these occasions would become vagabonds and desert their cities, due order was taken to make collections, which were so liberally bestow'd, that in Thessalonica onely 400 poore were sup- ported by the meer charity of the richer. And as they indeavour'd to purge their consciences of sin, and to apply themselves to good workes, that the Messiah might find the city prepared for his reception ; so, least he should accuse them of any omission in the law, and particu- larly in their neglect of that antient precept of increase and multiply, they marryed together children of ten yeares of age, and some under, without respect to riches or poverty, condition or quality ; but, being promiscuously joyned, to the number of 6 or 7^0 couple, upon better and cooler thoughts, after the deceipt of the false Messiah was disco- vered, or the expectation of his coming grew cold, were divorced, or by consent separated from each other. In the heat of all this talk and rumour comes Sabatai Sevi to Smyrna, the city of his nativity, infinitely desir'd there by the common Jewes ; but by the chochams, or doctors of the law, who gave little or no cre- dence to what he pretended, was ill recelv'd, not knowing what mischief or ruine this doctrine and prophesie of a new kingdome might produce. Yet Sabatai bringing with him testimonials of his sanctity, holy life, wisdom, and gift of prophesie, so deeply fixed himself in the heart of the generality, both as being holy and wise, that thereupon he took courage and boldness to enter into dispute with the Grand Chocham (who is the head and chief expositer of the law, and superintendent of their will and government), between whom the arguments grew so high, and language so hot, that the Jewes who favoured the doctrine of Saba- tai, and feared the authority of the Chocham, doubtful what might be the issue of the contest, appear'd in great numbers before the Cadi of Smyrna, in justification of their new prophet, before so much as any 4 G 594 accusation came against him. The Cadi, according to the custom of the Turkes, swallows money on both sides, and afterwards remits them to the determination of their own justice. In this manner Sabatai gaines ground dayly ; and the Grand Chocham, with his party, losing both the affection and obedience of his people, is displaced from his office, and another constituted, more affectionate and agreeable to the new prophet, whose power daily increased by those confident reports, that his enemies were struck with phrensles and madness, until being restor'd to their former temper and wits by him, became his friends, admirers, and disciples. No Invitation was now made in Smyrna by the Jewes, nor marriage or circumcision solemnized, where Sabatai was not present, accompanyed with a multitude of his followers, and the streets cover'd with carpits or fine cloath for him to tread on; but the humility of this Pharisee appeared such, that he would stoop and turne them aside, and so pass. And having thus fixed himself in the opinion and admiration of the people, he began to take on himself the title of Messiah, and the Son of God ; and to make this following declaration to all the nations of the Jewes, which being wrote originally in Hebrew, was translated for me faithfully into Italian, in this manner : L' unico figllolo, e prlmogenito d' Dlo, Sabatai Sevi, il Messiah, e Salvatore d' Israel, eletti di Dlo pace essendo che sete fattl degnidl veder quel granglorno della dellberatione e salvatione d' Israel, e consumma- tione delle parole dl Dlo, promessa per gli sur profeti, e padri nostri, per 11 suo dlletto figllo d' Israel, ogni vestra amarltudlne si converta in alle- grezza, e 11 vestrl digjuni facino feste, per che non plangerete, O miei figliole d' Israel havendovi, dati Iddlo la consolatlone inenarrablle, feste- giate contlmpani e musiche, ringratlando quello chi ha adempito il pro- messo dalli secoli, facendo ogni giorno quelle cose che solete fare nelle callende, e quel glerno dedlcato all' afflictione e mestitia, convertlte lo in giorno giocondo per la mia comparsa, e non spaventate niente, per che haverete Domlnio sopra le gentl, non solamente dl quelle, che si vedodono in terra, ma quelle che sono in fondi del mare, 11 tutto pro vestra consolatlone & allegrezza. Which, translated into English, runs thus : 595 The onely and first-born Son of God, Sabatal Sevi, the Messiah and Saviour of Israel, to all the sons of Israel, peace. Since that you are made worthy to see that great day of deliverance and salvation unto Israel, and accomplishment of the word of God, promised by his prophets, and our fore-fathers, and by his beloved Son of Israel, let your bitter sor- rowes be turned into joy, and your fasts into festivals, for you shall weep no more, O my sons of Israel, for God having given you this un- speakable comfort, rejoyce with drums, organs, and musick, giving thanks to him for performing his promise from all ages; doing that every day, which is usual for you to do upon the new-moons ; and, that day de- dicated to affliction and sorrow convert you into a day of mirth for my appearance ; and fear you nothing, for you shall have dominion over the nations, and not onely over those who are on earth, but over those creatures also which are in the depth of the sea. All which is for your consolation and rejoycing. Sabatai Sevi. Notwithstanding the disciples of Sabatai Sevi were not so numerous, but many opposed his doctrine, publiquely avouching that he was an imposter and deceiver of the people, amongst which was one Samuel Pennia, a man of a good estate and reputation in Smyrna, who arguing in the synagogue that the present signs of the coming of the Messiah were not apparent, either according to Scripture, or the doctrine of the Rabbins, raised such a sedition and tumult among the Jews as not onely prevailed against arguments, but had also against his life, had he not timely conveyed himself out of the synagogue, and thereby escaped the hands of the multitude, who now could more easily endure blasphemy against the law of Moses, and the prophanation of the Sanctuary, than contradiction or misbelief of the doctrine of Sabatai. But, howsoever, it fell out, Pennia in a short time becomes a convert, and preaches up Saba- tai for the Son of God and deliverer of the Jews : and not onely he, but his whole family; his daughters prophesie, and fall into strange extasies; and not onely his house, but four hundred men and women prophecie of the growing kingdom of Sabatai ; and young infants, who could scarce stammer out a syllable to their mothers, repeat and pronounce plainly the 596 name of Sabatal, the Messiah and Son of God. For thus far had God permitted the devil to delude this people, that their very children were for a time possessed, and voices heard to sound from their stomach and Intrails. Those of riper years fell first into a trance, foamed at the mouth, and recounted the future prosperltie and deliverance of the Isra- elites, their visions of the Lion of Judah, and the triumphs of Sabatai, all which were certainly true, being effects of diabolical delusions, as the Jews themselves since have confessed unto me. With these concomitant accidents and successes, Sabatai Sevi, grow- ing more presumptuous, that he might correspond with the prophesies of greatness and dominion of the Messiah, proceeds to an election of those princes which were to govern the Israelites in their march towards the Holy Land, and to dispense judgement and justice over their restora- tion. The names of them were these which follow, men well known at Smyrna, who never (God knows) had ambition to aspire to the title of princes, until a strange spirit of deceit and delusion had moved them, not onely to hope it as possible but to expect it as certain : Isaac Silvera, King David. Saloman Lagnado, was Salomon. Salom.Lagnadojjun. named Zovah. Joseph Cohen, Uzziah. Moses Galente, Josaphat. Daniel Pinto, Hilkiah. Abraham Scandale, Jotham. Moklah Gaspar, Zedeklah. Abraham Leon, Ephraim Arditl, Salam Carmona, Achas. Joram. Achab. Matassla Aschenesi, Asa. MeirAlcalra, Rehoboara. Jacob Loxas, Ammon. Mordecai Jesserun, Jehoachlm. Chaim Inegna, Jeroboam. Joseph Scavillo, Abla. Conor Nehemias, was Zarobabel. Joseph del Caire, named Joas. Elcukin Schavlt, Amasla. Abraham Rubio, Josiah. Ellas Sevi had the title of the King of the King of Kings. Ellas Azar, his Vice-king, or Vizier. Joseph Sevi, the King of the Kings of Judah. Joseph lernuch, his Vice-king. In this manner things ran to a strange height of madness amongst 597 the Jews at Smyrna, where appear'd such pageantry of greatness, that no comedy could equal the mock-shews they represented, and though none durst openly profess any scruple or doubt of this common receiv'd belief, yet for confirmation of the Jews in their faith, and astonishment of the Gentiles, it was judged no less than necessary that Sabatai should shew some miracles whereby to evince to all the world that he was the true Messiah ; and as the present occasion seemed to require an evi- dence infallible of this truth, so it was daily expected by the vulgar, with an impatience sutable to humours disposed to noveltie, who out of every action and motion of their prophet began to fancy something ex- traordinary and supernatural. Sabatai was now horribly puzzled for a miracle, though the imagination of the people was so vitiated that any legerdemaine or slight of hand would have passed more easily with them for a wonder than Moses striking the rock for water, or dividing the Red Sea. And occasion happening that Sabatai was, in behalf of his subjects, to appear before the Cadi, or judge of the citie, to demand ease and relief of some oppressions which aggrieved them, it was thought necessary a miracle should now be wrought or never ; when Sabatai appearing with a formal and pharisaical gravitie, which he had starcht on, some on a sudden avouched to see a pillar of fire between him and the Cadi, which report presently was heard through the whole room, filled with Jews that accompanied Sabatai, some of whom, who strongly fancied it, vow'd and swore they saw it ; others in the outward yard, or that could not come near to hear or see for the crowd, as speedily took the alarm, and the rumour ran, and belief receiv'd by the women and children at home in a moment, so that Sabatai Sevi returned to his house triumphant, fixed in the hearts of his people, who now needed no further miracles to confirm them in their faith. And thus was Sabatai exalted, when no man was thought worthy of communication who did not believe him to be the Messiah: others were called kophrim, infidels or heretics, liable to the censure of excommunication, with whom it was not lawful so much as to eat: every man produc'd his treasure, his gold, and jewels, offering them at the feet of Sabatai, so that he could have commanded all the wealth of Smyrna, but he was too subtil to accept their money, least he should render his design suspected by any 598 act of covetousness. Sabatal Sevi having thus fully fixed himself in Smyrna, and filled other places with rumors of his fame, declared that he was called by God to visit Constantinople, where the greatest part of his work was to be accomplisht ; in order whereunto he privately ships himself, with some few attendants, in a Turkish saick, in the moneth of January 1666, least the crowd of his disciples, and such who would press to follow him, should endanger him in the eyes of the Turks, who already began to be scandalized at the reports and prophecies concern- ing his person. But though Sabatai took few into the vessel to him, yet a multitude of Jews travell'd over land to meet him again at Con- stantinople, on whom all their eyes and expectations were intent. The wind proving northernly, as commonly it is in the Hellespont and Pro- pontls, Sabatal was thirty nine days in his voyage, and yet the vessel not arrlv'd, so little power had this Messiah over the sea and winds, in which time news being come to Constantinople that the Jews Messiah was near, all that people prepared to receive him with the same joy and impatience as was exprest in other parts where he arrived. The great Vizier (then also at Constantinople, being not yet departed on his expedition for Candia) having heard some rumors of this man, and the disorder and madness he had raised amongst the Jews, sent two boats, whll'st the saick was detained by contrary winds, with com- mands to bring him up prisoner to the Porte ; where accordingly Sabatai being come, was committed to the most loathsom and darkest dungeon in the town, there to remain in farther expectation of the Viziers sen- tence. The Jews were not at all discouraged at this ill treatment of their prophet, but rather confirmed in their belief of him, as being the accomplishment of the prophesle of those things which ought to pre- cede his glory and dominion ; which consideration induc'd the chiefest persons amongst the Jews to make their visits and addresses to him with the same ceremony and respect in the dungeon as they would have done had he then sat exalted on the throne of Israel. Several of them, with one Anacago by name, a man of great esteem amongst the Jews, attended a whole day before him, with their eyes cast down, their bodies bending forward, and hands crost before them (which are pos- tures of humihty and service in tlie Eastern countreys), the undecency 599 of the place, and present subjection, not having in the least abated their high thoughts and reverence towards his person. The Jews in Constantinople were now become as mad and distracted as they were in other places, all trade and trafBque forbidden, and those who owed mo- ney in no manner careful how to satisfie it; amongst which wild crew some were indebted to our merchants at Galata, who not knowing the way to receive their money, partly for their interest, and partly for curi- osity, thought fit to visit this Sabatai, complayning that such particular Jews, upon his coming, took upon them the boldness to defraud them of their right, desired he would be pleased to signifie to these his sub- jects his pleasure to have satisfaction given ; whereupon Sabatai with much affectation took pen and paper, and wrote to this effect : " To you of the nation of the Jews, who expect the appearance of the Messiah, and the salvation of Israel, peace without end. Whereas we are informed that you are indebted to several of the English nation, it seemeth right to us to enorder you to make satisfaction to these your just debts; which if you refuse to do, and not obey us herein, know you, that then you are not to enter with us into our joys and dominions." In this manner Sabatai Sevi remained a prisoner at Constantinople for the space of two moneths ; at the end of which, the Vizier having designed his expedition for Candia, and considering the rumour and dis- turbance the presence of Sabatai had made already at Constantinople, thought it not secure to suffer him to remain in the Imperial citie, vvhil'st both the Grand SIgnior and himself were absent, and therefore changes his prison to the Dardanelli, otherwise called the Castle of Abydos, being on the Europe side of the Helespont, opposite to Sestos, places famous in Greek poetrie. This removal of Sabatai from a worse prison to one of a better air, confirmed the Jews with greater confidence of his being the Messiah, supposing that had it been in the power of the Vizier, or other officers of the Turks, to have destroyed his person, they would never have permitted him to have lived to that time, in regard their maximes enforce them to quit all jealousies and suspitions of ruine to their state by the death of the party feared, which much 600 rather they ought to execute on Sabatai, who had not onely declared himself the King of Israel, but also published prophesies fatal to the Grand Signior and his Kingdoms. With this consideration, and others preceding, the Jews flock in great numbers to the castle where he was imprisoned, not onely from the neighbouring parts, but also from Poland, Germanic, Legorne, Venice, Amsterdam, and other places where the Jews reside ; on all whom, as a reward of the expence and labours of their pilgrimage, Sabatai be- stowed plenty of his benedictions, promising increase of their store, and enlargement of their possessions in the Holy Land. And so great was the confluence of the Jews to this place, that the Turks thought it requisite to make their advantage thereof, and so not only raised the price of their provision, lodgings, and other necessaries, but also denied to admit any to the presence of Sabatai unless for money, setting the price, sometimes at five, sometimes at ten dollers, or more or less, ac- cording as they guessed at their abilities or zeal of the person, by which gain and advantage to the Turks no complaints or advices were carried to Adrianople, either of the concourse of people, or arguments amongst the Jews in that place, but rather all civilities and libertie indulged unto them, which served as a farther argument to ensnare this poor people in the belief of their Messiah. During this time of confinement, Sabatai had leisure to compose and institute a new method of worship for the Jews, and principally the manner of the celebration of the day of his nativity, which he prescribed in this manner : " Brethren, and my people, men of religion inhabiting the city of Smyrna the renowned, where live men, and women, and families, peace be unto you, from the Lord of Peace, and from me his beloved Son, King Salomon. I command you that the ninth day of the moneth of Ab (which according to our account answered that year to the moneth of June) next to come, you make a day of invitation and of great joy, ce- lebrating it with choice meats and pleasing drinks, with many candles and lamps, with musick and songs, because it is the day of the birth of Sabatai Sevi, the high King above all the Kings of the earth. And 601 as to matters of lal)our, and other things of like nature, do, as becomes you, upon a day of festival, adorned with your finest garments. As to your jjrayers, let the same order be used as upon festivals. To converse with Christians on that day is uidawful, though your discourse be of matters indifferent; all labour is forbidden, but to sound instruments is lawful. This shall be the method and substance of your prayers on this day of festival : After you have said, ' Blessed be thou, O holy God ! ' then proceed and say, ' Thou hast chosen us before all people, and hast loved us, and hast been delighted with us, and hast humbled us more than all other nations, and hast sanctified us with thy precepts, and hast brought us near to thy service, and the service of our King. Thy holy, great, and terrible name thou hast published amongst us; and hast given us, O Lord God, according to thy love, time of joy, of festivals, and times of mirth, and this day of consolation for a solemn convocation of holiness, for the birth of our King the Messiah, Sabatai Sevi, thy servant and first-born son in love, through whom we commemorate our coming out of Egypt. ' And then you shall read for your lesson the 1, 2, and 3 chapters of Deut. to the 1/ verse, appointing for the reading thereof five men, in a perfect and uncorrupted Bible, adding thereunto the Blessings of the morning, as are prescribed for days of festival ; and for the lesson out of the Propb.ets usually read in the synagogue every Sabbath, you shall read the 31 chapt. of Jeremiah. To your prayer called 7nussaf Qused in the synagogue every Sabbath and solemn festi- val) you shall adjoyn that of the present festival ; in stead of the sacri- fice of Addition, of the returning of the Bilile to its place, vou shall read with an audible voice and clear sound, the Psalm 95. And at the first Praises in the morning, after you have sang Psalm 91, and just be- fore you sing Psalm 98, you shall repeate Psalm 132; but in the last verse, where it Is said, as J'or his enemies I shall cloath them with shame, hut upon himself shall his croivn flourish, in the place of (iipon himself]) you sliall read, iipon the most high; after which shall follow the 126 Psalm, and then the 113 to tiie 119. At the consecration of the wine upon the vigil, or even, you shall make mention of the Feast of Consolation, which is the day of the birth of our King the Messiah, Sabatai Sevi, thy servant and first-born son, 4 H 602 o^lviivj- the blessiiiir, as foUoweth: ' Blessed be thou, our God, king; of the world, who hast made us to live, and hast mauitain'd us, and hast kept us alive unto this time.' Upon the eve of this day you shall read also the 81 Psalm, as also the 132 and 126 Psalmes, which are appointed for the morning praises. And this day shall be unto you for the remem- brance of a solemn day unto eternal ages, and a perpetual testimony between me and the sons of Israel." Audite audiendo & manducate bonam. Besides which order and method of prayers for solemnization of his birth, he prescribed other rules for divine service, and particularly pub- lished the same Indulgence and privilege to every one who should pray at the tomb of his mother, as if he had taken on him a pilgrimage to pray and sacrifice at Jerusalem. The devotion of the Jews toward this pretended Messiah increased still more and more, so that not onely the chief of the city went to attend and proffer their service toward him in the time of his imprison- ment, but likewise decked their synagogue with S. S. in letters of gold, making for him on the wall a crown, in the circle of which was wrote the 91 Psalm at length, in faire and legible characters ; attributing the same titles to Sabatai, and expounding the Scriptures in the same man- ner in favour of his appearance, as we do of our Saviour. However, some of the Jews remain'd in their wits all this time, amongst which was a certain Chocham at Smyrna, one zealous of his law, and of the good and safety of his nation : and observing in what a wilde manner the whole people of the Jewes was transported with the groundless be- llefe of a Messiah, leaving not onely their trade and course of living, but publishing prophesies of a speedy kingdome, of rescue from the tyranny of the Turk, and leading the Grand Signlor himself captive in chaines ; matters so dangerous and obnoxious to the state wherein they lived, as might justly convict them of treason and rebellion, and leave them to the mercy of that justice which on the least jealousle and sus- picion of matters of this nature used to extirpate families, and subvert the mansion-houses of their own people, much rather of the Jewes, on whom the Turkes would gladly take occasion to dispoile them of their estates, 603 and condemn the whole nation to perpetual slavery. And indeed it would have been a greater wonder than ever Sabatai shewed, that the Turkes took no advantage from all these extravagances, to dralne the Jewes of a considerable sum of money, and set their whole race in Turkey at a ransome, had not these passages yielded them matter of pastime, and been the subject of the Turkes laughter and scorne, sup- posing It a disparagement to the greatness of the Ottoman empire, to be concerned for the rumours and combustions of this dispersed people. With these considerations, this Cocham, that he might clear himself of the blood and guilt of his countrey-men, and concern'd in the common destruction, goes before the Cadi, and there protests against the present doctrine, declaring that he had no hand in setting up of Sabatai, but was an enemy both to him and to his whole sect. This freedome of the Cocham so enraged and scandalized the Jewes, that they judged no condemnation or punishment too severe against such an offender and blasphemer of their law and holiness of the Messiah ; and therefore with money and presents to the Cadi, accusing him as disobedient in a capi- tal nature to their government, obtain'd sentence against him, to have his beard shaved, and to be condemn'd to the gallies. There wanted nothing now to the appearance of the Messiah, and the solemnity of his coming, but the presence of Elias, whom the Jews began to expect hourely, and with that attention and earnestness that every dreame or phantasme to a weak head was judged to be Elias, it being taught, and averred, that he was seen in divers formes and shapes, not to be cer- tainly discovered or known, before the coming of the Messiah ; for this superstition is so far fixed amongst them, that generally in their fami- lies they spread a table for Elias the prophet, to which they make an invitation of poor people, leaving the chief place for the Lord Elias, whom they believe to be invisibly present at the entertainment, and there to eate and drink, without diminution either of the dishes or of the cup. One person amongst the Jewes commanded his wife, after a supper of this kind, to leave the cup filled with wine, and the meat standing all night, for Elias to feast and rejoyce alone ; and in the morning arising early, affirmed, that Elias took this banquet so kindly, that in token of gratitude and acceptance he had replenish'd the cup 604 with oyle In stead of wine. It is a certaine custome amongst the Jewes on the evening of the Sabbath to repeat certain praises of God (called havdilaj, which signifies a distinction or separation of the Sabbath from the prophane dayes (as they call them), which praises they observe to performe In this manner. One takes a cup filled with wine, and drops it through the whole house, saying, " Ellas the pro|)het, Ellas the pro- phet, Ellas the prophet, come quickly to us with the Messiah, the son of God and David ;" and this they affirme to be so acceptable to Ellas, that he never falles to preserve that family so devoted to him, and aug- ment it with the blessings of increase. Many other things the Jews avouch of Ellas, so ridiculous as are not fit to be declar'd, amongst which this one is not far from our purpose ; that at the circumcision there is alwayes a chair set for Elias. And Sabatal Sevi being once invited at Smyrna to the circumcision of the first-borne son of one Abraham Gu- tiere, a kinsman of Sabatal, and all things ready for the ceremony, Sabatal Sevi exhorted the parents of the child to expect a while until his farther order. After a good halfe hour, Sabatai order'd them to proceed and cut the prepuce of the child, which was instantly perform'd with all joy and satisfaction to the parents : and being afterwards de- manded the reason why he retarded the performance of that function, his answer was, that Elias had not as yet taken his seat, whom, as soon as he saw placed, he ordered them to proceed ; and that now shortly Ellas would discover himself openly, and proclalme the news of the general redemption. This being the common opinion amongst the Jewes, and that Sabatai Sevi was the Messiah, being become an article of faith, it was not hard to perswade them, that Ellas was come already, that they met him in their dishes, in the darke, in their bed-chambers, or any where else in- visible, in the same manner as our common people in England believe of hobgoblins and fairies. For so it was, when Solomon Cremona, an inhabitant of Smyrna, making a great feast, to which the principal Jews of the city were invited, after they had eaten and drank frcelv, one of them starts from his seat, and avouches that he saw Elias upon the wall, and with that bowes to him, and complements him with all reve- rence and humility. Some others having in like manner their fancies 605 prepossessed, and their eyes with the fume of whie ill prepared to dis- tinguish shadowes, immediately agreed upon the object, and then there was not one in the company who would say he did not see him : at which surprize every one was struck with reverence and awe ; and the most eloquent amongst them, having their tongues loosed with joy and wine, directed orations, encomiums, and acts of thankfulness to Ellas, courting and complimenting him as distracted lovers doe the supposed presence of their mistresses. Another Jew at Constantinople reported, that he met Ellas in the streets, habited likeaTurke, with whom he had a long communication, and that he enjoyn'd the observation of many neg- lected ceremonies, and particularly the Zezlt (Numb. 15, v. 38): "Speak unto the children of Israel, and bid them that they make J'ringes in the borders of their garments throughout their generation, and that they put upon the fringe of the border a Wj66on of blue." Also the Peos(Levit. 19. V. 27) : " Ye shall not round the corners of your heads, neither shalt thou marr the corners of thy beard." This apparition of Elias being believed as soon as published, every one began to obey the vision, by fringing their garments; and for their heads, though alwaves shaved, according to the Turkish and Eastern fashion, and that the suffering hair to grow, to men not accustomed, was heavy, and incommodious to the healths and heads ; yet to begin again to renew, as far as was possible, the antlent ceremo- nies, every one nourished a lock of hair on each side, which might be visible beneath their caps: which soon after began to be a sign of dis- tinction between the believers and kophrims, a name of dishonour, sig- nifying as much as unbelievers or heretlcks, given to those who con- fessed not Sabatal to be the Messiah; which particulars, if not observed, it was declared, as a menace of Ellas, that the people of the Jewes who come from the river Euphrates, as is specified in the second book of Esdras, chap. 13, shall take vengeance of those who are giiilty of these omissions. But to return again to Sabatal Sevi himself, we find him still remain- ing a prisoner in the Castle of Abydos upon the Hellespont, admlr'd and ador'd by his brethren with more honour then before, and visited by pllgrlmes from all parts where the fame of the coming of the Mes- siah had arriv'd ; amongst which one from Poland, named Nehemiah Cohen, was of special note and renown, learned in the Hebrew, Syrlack, 606 and Chaldee, and versed in the doctrine and kahala of the rabines as well as Sabatai himself, one of whom it was said, had not this Sevi anti- cipated the design, esteemed himself as able a fellow to act the part of a Messiah as the other : howsoever, it being now too late to publish any such pretence, Sabatai having now eleven points of the law by posses- sion of the office, and with that the hearts and belief of the Jewes, Nehemiah was contented with some small appendage, or relation to the Messiah ; and therefore, to lay his design the better, desired a private conference with Sabatai. These two great Rabines being together, a hot dispute arose between them ; for Cohen alledged that according to Scripture, and exposition of the learned thereupon, there were to be two Messiahs, one called Ben Ephraim, and the other Ben David : the first was to be a preacher of the law, poor and despised, and a servant of the second, and his fore-runner; the other was to be great and rich, to re- store the Jewes to Jerusalem, to sit upon the throne of David, and to performe and act all those triumphs and conquests which were expected from Sabatai. Nehemiah was contented to be Ben Ephraim, the afflicted and poor Messiah ; and Sabatai (for any thing I hear) was well enough contented he should be so : but that Nehemiah accused him for being too forward in publishing himself the latter Messiah, before Ben Ephraim had first been known unto the world. Sabatai took this re- prehension so ill, either out of pride, and thoughts of his own infalllbl- litv, or that he suspected Nehemiah, being once admitted for Ben Ephraim, would quickly (being a subtile and learned person) perswade the world that he was Ben David, would by no means understand or admit of this doctrine, or of Ben Ephraim for a necessary officer : and thereupon the dispute grew so hot, and the controversie so irreconcile- able, as was taken notice of by the Jewes, and controverted amongst them, as every one fancy'd : but Sabatai being of greater authority, his sentence prevail'd, and Nehemiah was rejected as schismatical, and an enemy to the Messiah, which afterward proved the mine and downfal of this impostor. For Nehemiah being thus baffled, and being a person of authority, and a haughtv spirit, meditated nothing but revenge ; to execute which to the full, he takes a journey to Adrianople, and there informes the 607 chief ministers of state and officers of the court, who (by reason of the gain the Turks made of their prisoner at the castle on the Hellespont) heard nothing of all this concourse of people, and prophesies of the re- volt of the Jews from their obedience to the Grand Signior; and taking likewise to his counsel some certain discontented and unlielieving Cho- chams, who being zealous for their nation, and jealous of the ill-con- sequences of this long-continued and increasing madness, took liberty to informe the Chlmacham (who was deputy of the Great Vizier then at Candia) that the Jew, prisoner at the castle, called Sabatal Sevi, was a lewd person, and one who endeavoured to de])auch the mindes of the Jewes, and divert them from their honest course of livelihood and obe- dience to the Grand Signior ; and that therefore it was necessary to clear the world of so dangerous and factious a spirit. The Chimacham, being thus informed, could do no less then acquaint the Grand Signior with all the particulars of this man's condition, course of life, and doc- trine ; which were no sooner understood, but a Chiaux, or messenger, was immediately dispatched to bring up Sabatai Sevi to Adrianople. The Chiaux executed this commission after the Turkish fashion in haste, and brought Sabatai in a few days to Adrianople, without further ex- cuse or ceremony ; not affording him an hours space to take a solemn farewell of his friends, his followers and adorers, who now were come to the vertical point of all their hopes and expectations. The Grand Signior having by this time received divers informations of the madness of the Jews, and the pretences of Sabatai, grew big with desire and expectation to see him; so that he no sooner arriv'd at Adria- nople, but the same hour he was brought before the Grand Signior. Sabatai appeared much dejected, and failing of that courage which he shewed In the synagogue, and being demanded several questions in Turkish by the Grand Signior, he would not trust so farr to the vertue of his Messiahship as to deliver himself in the Turkish language, but desired a doctor of physlck (who had from a Jew turned Turk) to be his interpreter, which was granted to him, but not without reflection of the standers by, that had he been the Messiah and Son of God, as he formerly pretended, his tongue would have flown with varletie as well as with the perfection of languages. But the Grand Signior would not 608 be put off without a miracle, and it must be one of his own choice, which was, that Sabatai should be stript naked, and set as a mark to his dexterous archers ; if the arrows passed not his body, but that his flesh and skin was proof like armour, then he would believe him to be the Messiah, and the person whom God had design'd to those dominions and greatnesses he pretended. But now Sabatai, not having faith enough to stand to so sharp a trial, renounced all his title to kingdoms and governments, alledging that he was an ordinary Chocham, and a poor Jew, as others were, and had nothing of priviledge or vertue above the rest. The Grand Signior, notwithstanding, not wholly satisfied with this plain confession, declared, that having given publlque scandal to the professors of the Mahometan religion, and done dishonour to his soveraign authoritie, by pretending to draw such a considerable portion from him as the Land of Palestine ; his treason and crime was not to be expiated by any other means then by a conversion to the Mahometan faith, which if he refus'd to do, the stake was ready at the gate of the seraglio to empale him. Sabatai being now reduced to extremltie of his latter game, not being the least doubtful what to do (for to die for what he was assured was false was against nature, and the death of a mad man), replyed with much chearfulness, that he was contented to turn Turk, and that it was not of force, but of choice, having been a long time desirous of so gloinous a profession ; he esteemed himself much honoured that he had opportunity to own it first in the presence of the Grand Signior. And here was the non jylus ultra of all the bluster and noise of this vain impostor. And now the reader may be pleased to pause a while, and contemplate the strange point of conster- nation, shame, and silence to which the Jews were reduc't, when they understood how speedily their hopes were vanished, and how poorly and ignomlnlously all their fancies and promises of a new kingdom, their pageantry, and offices of devotion, were past like a tale, or a midnights dream. And all this was concluded, and the Jews sunk on a sudden, and fallen flat In their hopes, without so much as a line of comfort or excuse from Sabatai, more than In general to all the brethren, that now they should apply themselves to their callings and services of God, as formerly, for that matters relating unto him were finished, and the sen- 609 tence past. The news that Sabatai was turned Turk, and the Messiah to a Mahumetan, quickly filled all parts of Turkey. The Jews were strangely surprized at it, and ashamed of their easie belief, of the argu- ments with which they had persuaded one the other, and of the prose- lytes they had made in their own families. Abroad they became the common derision of the towns where they inhabited : the boys houted after them, coyning a new word at Smyrna (^ponftaij which every one seeing a Jew, with a finger pointed out, would pronounce with scorn and contempt; so that this deceived people for a long time after remained with confusion, silence, and dejection of spirit. And yet most of them affirm that Sabatai is not turned Turk, but his shadow onely remains on earth, and walks with a white head, and in the habit of a Mahome- tan ; but that his natural body and soul are taken into Heaven, there to reside until the time appointed for accomplishment of these wonders. And this opinion began so commonly to take place, as if this people resolved never to be undeceived, using the forms and rules for devotion prescribed them by their Mahumetan Messiah ; insomuch, that the Chochams of Constantinople, fearing the danger of this error might creep up, and equal the former, condemned the belief of Sabatai being Messiah as damnable, and enjoyned them to return to the antient me- thod and service of God upon pain of excommunication. The style and tenor of them was as foUoweth : To you who have the power of priesthood, and are the knowing, learned, and magnanimous Governours and Princes, residing in the citie of Smyrna, may the Almighty God protect you. Amen : for so is his will. These our letters, which we send in the midst of your habitations, are upon occasion of certain rumors and tumults come to our ears from that citie of your holiness. For there is a sort of men amongst you who fortifie themselves in their error, and say, let such a one, our King, live, and bless him in their publique synagogue every Sabbath day ; and also adjoyn psalms and hymns invented by that man for certain days, with rules and methods for prayer, which ought not to be done, and yet they will still remain obstinate therein ; and now behold it is 4i 610 known unto you, how many swelling waters have passed over our souls for his sake, for had It not been for the mercies of God, which are with- out end, and the merit of our forefathers, which hath assisted us, the foot of Isi'ael* had been razed out by their enemies. And yet you continue obstinate in things which do not help, but rather do mischief, which God avert. Turn you therefore, for this is not the true way, but restore the crown to the antient custom and use of your forefathers, and the law, and from thence do not move. We command you, that with your authoritie, under pain of excommunication, and other penalties, that all those ordinances and prayers, as well those delivered by the mouth of that man, as those wbich he enjoyned by the mouth of others, be all abolished and made void, and to be found no more, and that they never enter more into your hearts, but judge according to the antient commandment of your forefathers, repeating the same lessons and prayers every Sabbath as hath been accustomary, as also collects for kings, potentates, and anointed, &c. ; and bless the King, Sultan Ma- homet, for in his days hath great salvation been wrought for Israel, and become not rebels to his kingdom, which God forbid. For after all this, which is past, the least motion will be a cause of jealousie, and you will bring ruine upon your own persons, and upon all which is near and dear to you, wherefore abstain from the thoughts of this man, and let not so much as his name proceed out of your mouths. For know, if you will not obey us herein, which will be known who and what those men are who refuse to conform unto us, we are resolved to prosecute them, as our duty is. He that doth hear, and obey us, may the blessing of God rest upon him. These are the words of those who seek your peace and good, having in Constantinople, on Sunday the fifth of the moneth Sevat, underwrote their names. JoAM ToB, son of Chananiah Ben Jacar. Isaac Ai.nacagna. Eliezer Castie. Joseph Kazabi. Eliezer Gherson. Manasseh Barneo. Joseph Accohen. Kalib, son of Samuel. Eliezer Alufe. * The Jews scruple to say, the head of Israel. 611 During the time of all these transactions and passages at Constanti- nople, Smyrna, Ahydos, upon the Hellespont, and Adrianople, the Jews leaving their merchantlie course, and advices, what prizes com- modities hear and matters of traffique, stuffed their letters for Italy and other parts, with nothing but wonders and miracles wrought by their false Messiah ; as that when the Grand Signior sent to take him, he caused all the messengers immediately to die ; upon which other Janizaries being again sent, they all fell dead with a word only from his mouth ; and being desir'd to revive them again, he immediately recall'd them to life, but of them only such who were true Turks, and not those who had denied that faith in which they were born and had profest. After this they added, that he went voluntarily to prison, and though the gates were barr'd and shut with strong locks of iron, yet that Sabatai was seen to vialk through the streets with a numeroits attendance, and when they laid shades on his neck and feet, they not onely fell from him, but were converted into gold, with which he gratified his true and faithful believers and disci- ples. Some miracles also were reported of Nathan, that onely at read- ing the name of any particular man or woman, he would immediately recount the story of his or her life, their sins or defaults, and accord- ingly impose just correction and penance for them. These strong reports coming thus confidently into Italy and all parts, the Jews of Casel di Monferrato resolved to send three persons in behalf of their society, in the nature of extraordinary legates, to Smyrna, to make inquiry after the truth of all these rumours, who accordingly arriving in Smyrna, full of expectation and hopes, Intending to present themselves with great humility and submission before the Messiah and his prophet Nathan, were entertain'd with the sad news that Sabatai was turned Turk, by which information the character of their embassy in a manner ceasing, every one of them laying aside the formalities of his function, en- deavoured to lodge himself best to his own convenience. But that they might return to their brethren at home, with the certain particulars of the success of the affairs, they made a visit to the brother of Sabatai, who still continued to perswade them that Sabatai was notwithstanding the true Messiah ; that it was not he who had taken on him the habit 612 and form of a Turk, but his angel or spirit, his body being ascended into Heaven, until God shall again see the season and time to restore it, adding further, that an effect hereof they should see by the prophet Na- than certified, now every day expected, who, having wrought miracles in many places, would also for their consolation reveal hidden secrets unto them, with which they should not onely remain satisfied but astonished. With this onely hope of Nathan, these legates were a little comforted, resolving to attend his arrival, in regard they had a letter to consign into his hands, and, according to their instructions, were to demand of him the grounds he had for his prophesies, and what assurance he had that he was divinely inspir'd, and how these things were reveal'd unto him which he had committed to paper, and dispersed to all parts of the world. At length Nathan arrives near Smyrna, on Friday the third of March, towards the evening, and on Sunday these legates made their visit to him. But Nathan, upon news of the success of his be- loved Messiah, began to grow sullen and reserved, so that the legates could scarce procure admittance to him ; all that they could do was to inform him, that they had a letter to him from the brother-hood of Italy, and commission to conferr with him concerning the foundation and authority he had for his prophesies; but Nathan refused to take the letter, ordering Kain Abolafio, a Chocham of the city of Smyrna, to receive it; so that the legates returned ill contented, but yet with hopes of Nathan's arrival at Smyrna to receive better satisfaction. But whil'st Nathan intended to enter into Smyrna, the Chochams of Constantinople, being before advised of his resolution to take a journey into their parts, not knowing by which way he might come, sent their letters and orders to Smyrna, Prussia, and every way round, to hinder his passage, and interrupt his journey, fearing that things beginning now to compose, the Turks appeas'd for the former disorders, and the minds of the Jews in some manner settled, might be moved, and com- bustions burst out afresh by the appearance of this new impostor, and therefore dispatched this letter as followeth : 613 To you who are the shepherds of Israel, and rulers, who reside for the great God of the whole world in the city of Smyrna, which is mother in Israel, to her princes, her priests, her judges, and especially to the perfect wise men, and of great experience, may the Lord God cause you to live before him, and delight in the multitude of peace, Amen ; so be the will of the Lord. These our letters are dispatched unto you, to let you understand, that in the place of your holiness we have heard that the learned man which was in Gaza, called Nathan Benjamin, hath published vaine doctrines, and made the world tremble at his words and inventions ; and that at this time we have receiv'd advice, that this man some dayes since de- parted from Gaza, and took his journey by the way of Scanderone, intending there to imbarke for Smyrna, and thence to go to Constanti- nople or Adrianople : and though it seem a strange thing unto us, that any man should have a desire to throw himself into a place of flames and fire, and into the sparkes of hell, notwithstanding we ought to fear and suspect '\t, for the feet of man alwayes guide him to the worst : wherefore we under-written do advertise you, that this man coming within the compass of your jurisdiction, you give a stop to his journey, and not suffer him to proceed farther, but presently to return back. For we would have you know, that at his coming he will again begin to move those tumults which have been caused through the imaginations of a new kingdome, and that miracles are not to be wrought every day. God forbid that by his coming the people of God should be destroy'd in all places where they are, of which he will be the first, whose blood be upon his own head ; for in this conjuncture every little error or fault is made capital. You may remember the danger of the first combus- tion ; and it is very probable that he will be an occasion of greatei-, which the tongue is not able to express with words. And therefore, by vertue of ours and your own authority, you are to hinder him from proceeding farther in his journey, upon paine of all those excommuni- cations which our law can impose, and to force him to return back again, both he and his company. But if he shall in any manner oppose you, 614 and rebel against your word, your indeavours and law are suflBcient to hinder him, for it will be well for him and all Israel. For the love of God, let these words enter into your eares, since they are not vain things ; for the lives of all the Jewes, and his also, consist therein. And the Lord God behold from Heaven, and have pitty upon his people Israel, Amen. So be his holy will. Written by those who seek your peace. JoAM ToB, son of Cha- Caleb, son of Chocham nania Jacar. Samuel, deceased. MoisE Benveniste. Moise Barndo. Isaac Alcenacagne. Elihezer Aluff. Joseph Kazabi. Jehoshuah Raphael Samuel Acaz sine. Benveniste. By these meanes Nathan being disappointed of his wandring pro- gress, and partly ashamed of the event of things, contrary to his pro- phesie, was resolved, without entring Smyrna, to returne again : howso- ever, he obtained leave to visit the sepulchre of his mother, and there to receive pardon of his sins (according to the institution of Sabatai before mentioned), but first washed himself in the sea, in manner of purification, and said his tephilla, or prayers, at the fountain, called by us the fountain Sancta Veneranda, which is near to the cymeterie of the Jewes, and then departed for Xio, with two companions, a servant, and three Turks to conduct him, without admitting the legates to audience, or answering the letter which was sent him from all the communities of the Jewes in Italy. And thus the embassy of these legates was con- cluded, and they returned from the place from whence they came, and the Jewes again to their wits, following their trade of merchandize and brokage as formerly, with more quiet and advantage then the meanes of regaining their possessions in the Land of Promise. And thus ended this mad phrensie amongst the Jewes, which might have cost them dear, had not Sabatai renounc'd his Messiah-ship at the feet of Mahomet. 615 THE HISTORY OF THE LATE FINAL EXTIRPATION AND EXILEMENT OF THE JEWES , . OUT or THE EMPIRE OF PERSIA. You have heard in the foregoing story from what glorious expecta- tions the whole nation of the Jewes were precipitated by the imposto- rious but improsperous villany of their late pretended Messiah: you will in this Relation perceive farther, how signally the hand of Almighty God (about the same time) went out to their yet greater shame and extermination : and if any thing were capable to reduce that miserably deluded people, certainly one would think these contlnu'd frownes and accents of his displeasure against all their enterprises, as it ought to confirme the truth of the Christian profession, so it should even con- straine them to hasten to it, for tJie wrath is come upon them to the uttermost. In the reign of the famous Abas, Sophy of Persia, and grand-father to the present Emperour, the nation being low, and somewhat exhausted of inhabitants, it entred into the mind of this prince (a wise and prudent man, and one who exceedingly studied the benefit of his subjects) to seek some expedient for the revival and improvement of trade, and by all manner of priviledges and immunities to encourage other contiguous nations to negotiate and trade amongst them ; and this project he forti- fied with so many immunities, and used them so well who came, that repairing from all partes to his countrey, in a short time the whole kingdome was filled with multitudes of the most industrious people and strangers that any way bordered on him. It happened, that amongst those who came, innumerable flocks of Jewes ran thither from all their dispersions in the East, attracted bv the gaine which they universally make where ever they set footing, by their innate craft, sacred avarice, and the excessive extortions which 616 they continually practice. And it was not many yeares but by this meanes they had so impoverished the rest, and especially the natural subjects of Persia, that the clamor of it reached to the eares of the Em- perour ; and indeed it was intollerable, for even his own exchequer began to be sensible of it, as well as his peoples purses and estates, which they had almost devoured. How to repress this inormity, and remedy this inconvenience, without giving umbrage to the rest of those profitable strangers now settled in his dominions, by falling severely upon the Jewes on the sudden, he long consulted ; and for that end call'd to his advice his chief ministers of state, the Mufti, and expounders of the law. After much dispute 'twas at last found, that the Jewes had already long since forfeited their lives bv the very text of the Alcoran, where it is express'd, that if within six hundred yeares from the promulgation of that religion they did not universally come in and profess the Mahumetan faith, they should be destroy'd. The zealous Emperor would immediately have put this edict into execution ; but, by the intercession of the Mufti, and the rest of the doctors, 'twas thought fit to suspend it for the present : but that these growing evils might in time have a period, his majesty commanded that all the Chochamml, Rabbins, and chiefe among the Jewes, should immediately appear before his tribunal, and make answer to some objections that were to be propounded to them. The Jewes being accordingly conven'd, the Sophy examines them about several passages of their law, and particularly concerning the prophet Moyses, and those rites of his which seem'd to have been so long annihilated amongst them, since the coming of Isai (^for so they call Jesus), after whom they pretended their Mahomet was to take place, and all other predictions to determine. The Jewes, much terrified with the manner of these interrogatories, and dubious what the meaning and drift of them might signlfie, told the Emperor, that for Christ they did not believe in him, but that they expected a Messiah of their own to come, who should by his miraculous power deliver them from their oppressors, and subdue all the world to his obedience. At this reply the Sophy appear'd to be much incens'd. How ! sayes 617 • he ; do you not then believe Christ, of whom our very Alcoran makes so honourable mention ? as that he was the spirit of God, sent down from him, and returning to him ? If we believe him, why do not you ? What say you for your selves, you incredulous wretches ? The confounded Jewes, perceiving the Emperor thus provoked, immediately prostrated themselves on the ground, humbly supplicating him to take pity on his slaves, who acknowledged themselves altogether unable to dispute with his Majesty ; that for the Christians they seem'd indeed to them to be gross idolaters, men who did not worship God, but a cruci- fied malefactor, and a deceiver ; which still the more displeased the Sophy, not induring they should so blaspheme a person for whom their Alcoran had so great a reverence. However, for the present he dissem- bles his resentment. " 'Tis well," sayes he, " you do not believe the God of the Christians : but, tell me, what think you of our great prophet Mahomet ?" This demand exceedingly perplexed them, not knowing what to reply : and indeed it was contriv'd on purpose, that convincing them of blasphemy (as they esteem'd it) against their prophet, the Sophy might find a specious and legal pretence to ruine and destroy them, without giving any jealousie or suspition to the rest of the strangers, who were traficking in his country, of several other religions, but who were not in the least obnoxious to his displeasure. After a long pause,' and secret conference with one another, it was at last resolved among them, that though they had deny'd Christ, they would yet say nothing positively against Mahomet ; therefore they told the Emperour, that though their religion forbad them to believe any prophet save Moses, &c. yet they did not hold Mahomet for a false prophet, in as much as he was descended of Ismael the son of Abraham; and that they desired to remaine his Majesties humble vassals and slaves, and crav'd his pity on them. The Sophy, easily perceiving the cunning and wary subterfuge of their reply, told them, this should not serve their turne ; that they were a people of dissolute principles, and that under pretence of their long expected Messiah they persisted in a false religion, and kept off from proselyting to the true beliefe, and therefore required of them to set a positive time when their Messiah was to appear, for that* he 4 K 618 would support them no longer, who had impos'd on the world, and cheated his people now so many yeares; but, withal assuring them, that he would both pardon and protect them for the time they should assign, provided they did not go about to abuse him by any incompetent pro- crastinations, but assign the year precisely of his coming, when, if ac- cordingly he did not appear, they were sons of death, and should all of them either renounce their faith, or be certainly destroyed, and their estates confiscated. The poor Jewes, though infinitely confounded with this unexpected demand and resolution of the Sophy, after a second consultation among themselves (which the Emperor granted), contriv'd to give him this answer. That according to their books and prophesies their Messiah should infallibly appear within seventy yeares; prudently (as they thought) believing, that either the Emperor or they should be all of them dead before that time, and that, in the interim, such alterations mip-ht emerge, as all this would be foro;otten or averted, and that, at the worst, a good summe of money would reverse the sentence; but that something was of necessity to be promls'd to satisfie his present humo- rous zeal. The Emperor accepts of the answer, and immediately causes it to be recorded in form of a solemn stipulation between them ; that in case there were no news of their Messiah within the seventy years assign'd (to which of grace he added five more), they should either turn Mahu- metans, or their whole nation utterly be destroyed throughout Persia, and their substance confiscated : but with this clause also inserted ; that if their Messiah did appear within that period, the Emperor would himself be obliged to become a Jew, and make all his subjects so with him. This, drawn (as we said) in form of instrument, was reciprocally sign'd and seal'd on both parts, and the Jews for the present dis- miss'd ; with the payment yet of no less than two millions of gold (as my author affirms) for the favour of this long indulgence. Since the time of this Emperor Abas, to the present Sophy now reigning, there are not only these seventy yeares past, but one hundred and fifteen explr'd ; during which the Persians have been so molested by the Turks, and by continual war In the East Indias, &c. that the 619 succeeding princes no more minded this stipulation of their predecessors, 'till by a wonderful accident in the reign of the second Abas (father of him who now governs), a person extreamly curious of antiquities, searching one day amongst the records of his palace, there was found this writing in the journal of his father, intimating what had so so- lemnly pass'd between him and the chiefs of the Jews in the name of their whole nation. Upon this, the Sophy instantly summons a council, produces the in- strument before them, and requires their advice, what was to be done; and the rather, for that there began now to be great whispers, and some letters had l)een written to them from merchants out of Turkey, of the motions of a pretended Messiah, which was the famous Sabatai. This so wrought with the Emperor and his council, that with one voice, and without longer pause, they Immediately conclude upon the destruction of the Jews, and that this wicked generation of impostors and oppressors of his people were no longer to be indured upon the earth. In order to this resolution proclamations are Issu'd out and published to the people, and to all that were strangers and irdiabltants amongst them, Impowerlng them to fall immediately upon the Jews in all the Persian dominions, and to put to the sword man, woman, and child, but such as should forthwith turn to the Mahumetan belief, and to seize on their goods and estates without any remorse or pity. This cruel and bloodv arrest was accordingly put in execution first at Ispahan, and suddenly afterwards in all the rest of the cities and towns of Persia. Happy was he that could escape the fury of the inraged people, who by vertue of the public sentence, grounded upon the de- clared stipulation, and now more encouraged by the dwindling of their pretended Messiah, had no commiseration on them, but slew and made havock of them, where-ever they could find a Jew through all the vast territories, falling upon the spoil, and continuing the carnage to their utter extermination. Nor did the persecution cease for several years, beginning from about sixty-three till sixty-six, at Ispahan, the cities and countries of Seyra, Ghelan, Humadan, Ardan, Tauris, and, in summe, through the whole empire, without sparing either sex or age, excepting (as was said) such as turned Mahumetans, or escaped through the 620 deserts into Turkey, India, and other farr distant regions, and that without hopes of ever re-establishing themselves for the future in Per- sia, the hatred of that people being so deadly and irreconcilable against them. And, in truth, this late action and miscarriage of their pre- tended Messiah has rendred them so universally despicable, that nothing but a determined obstinacy, and an evident and judicial malediction from Heaven, could possibly continue them in that prodigious blind- ness, out of which yet, God, of his infinite mercy, one day deliver them, that they may at last see and believe in him whom they have pierced ; and that so both Jew and Gentile may make one flock under that one shepherd and bishop of our souls, Jesus Christ the true Mes- siah. Amen. 621 A LETTER OF JOHN EVELYN, Esq. TO THE LORD VISCOUNT BROUNCKER, P. R. S. CONCERNING THE SPANISH SEMBRADOR, OR NEW ENGINE FOR PLOUGHING, EQUAL SOWING, AND HARROWING AT ONCE*. My Lord, I CANNOT devise better how to express my great respects to your Lordship, than by my utmost endeavours to promote the interest of that Society over which you have so long, with so much abihty and affec- tion, and so faithfully presided. This, therefore, will plead my excuse with your Lordship, if in some confidence of gratifying the generous designes of that noble assembly, I communicate to them, through your hands, not only the instrument (which 1 herewith present them), but the description of the use and benefit of it from such a deferent, as I am sure they will very highly value. My Lord, it is now almost two years since, that (by somewhat an odd accident), lighting upon a paper lately printed in Spanish, I found a short passage in it, giving notice of a cev- tain plough newly brought out of Germa7ii/ into Spain; in both which places it Imd, upon tryal, so generally obtain 'd, as (besides the royal priviledge, which was granted to the inventor) to procure the universal approbation. Upon this hint, I took the boldness to write to my Lord Ambassador, intreating his Excellency, that, as his more weighty affairs would give him leave, he would not disdain to inform himself more particularly concerning it. This his Lordship was not only pleas'd to do, hut so highly obliging as to transmit to me the engine itself, toge- ther with a full description of it and its use ; all of it written with his own noble hand, which I do here consecrate to the Royal Society, to be inserted among their precious cimelia. * A description of the contrivance and use of this instniment, by Don Joseph Lucatelo, Knight of the Province of Corinthea, a subject of the House of Austria, inventor of the engine, accom- panies this dedication, with an eiigraung, by which a great quantity of seed corn is saved, and a rich increase yearly gained. Phil. Trans. June 1670. No. 60. vol. V. p. 1056. 622 My Lord, being not so happy as to wait on you myself with it at your publick assembly this day, I desire your Lordship will cause these papers to be read there, and expose the instrument to their examina- tion and tryal. There are many gentlemen who will not be offended with these rusticities, and who know how highly such inventions, and even attempts, have been valued by the greatest and best of men. Something, 'tis possible, may happen to be out of order, by reason of the long journey it hath passed; but their ingenious Curator* will soon be able to reform, and, if need be, improve it. My Lord of Sandwich Is that illustrious person to whom the Society is obliged for this, and many other favors and productions of his own more consummate genius, which enrich their registers. But, let me tell them, his Lordship hath made, and brought home with him, such other polite notices and particulars of Spain and other forrain parts, as I know no person of the most refined mind and publick spirit who hath approached him, besides your Lordship ; an emulous and worthy ex- ample, certainly, to the rest of our Noblemen and Ministers of State abroad, who may travel with so many advantages to inform themselves above others : and it is to me a shining instance of both your Lordship's happy talents and great comprehension, that in the throng of so many and so weighty employments, you can think of cultivating the arts, and of doubly obliging your country. How do such persons enamel their characters, and adorne their titles with lasting and permanent honors ! This testimony of my just veneration to both your Lordships I could not, upon this occasion, but superadd, who am, My Lord, Your Lordship's most humble, most devoted, and most obedient servant, J. Evelyn. Sai/s Court, 23 Feb. \6%. * Robert Hooker, a man of great mechanical genius^ elected Curator, by office, to the Royal Society January 11, 16G4-5. He died in 1702. 623 DEDICATION TO RENATUS RAPINUS OF GARDENS; IN FOUR BOOKS : ORIGINALLY WRITTEN IN LATINE VERSE, AND MADE ENGLISH By JOHN EVELYN*. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY EARL OF ARLINGTON, VISCOUNT THETfORD, &c. HIS MAJESTIES PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE, OF HIS MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL, AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, Sic. My Lord, 'Tis become the mode of this writing age to trouble persons of the highest rank, not only with the real productions of wit, but (if so I may be allowed to speak) with the trifles and follyes of it : hardly does an ill play come forth without a dedication to some great Lady, or man of Honour; and all think themselves sufficiently secure, if they can ob- tain but the least pretence of authority to cover their imperfections. My Lord, I am sensible of mine ; but they concern only my self, and * London, printed by T. 11. & N. T. for Thomas Collins and John Ford, at the Middle-Temple Gate, and Benjamin Tooke, at the Sliip in St. Pauls Church Yard, 16'73. Octavo, 27G pages. Although the transposition of a Latin poem into English has usually a considerable degree of ori- ginality in itself, yet the prose Dedication of this tract only is printed, because, in general, the verses of Evelyn were far from being in the first rank of merit ; and on the same account also, his translation of the first book of Lucretius, printed in 1656, and his " Panegyric at his Majesty K. Charles II. his Coronation," 1661, are omitted in the present collection of his minor pieces. 624 can never lessen the dignity of a subject which the best of poets, and perhaps the greatest wits too, have celebrated with just applause. I know not how, my Lord, I may have succeeded with this adven- ture, in an age so nice and refined ; but the die is cast, and I had rather expose my self to the fortune of it, then loose an occasion of acknow- ledging your Lordship's favours, which, as they have oblig'd the father, so ought they to command the gratitude of the son : nor must I forget to acquaint your Lordship, that the author of this Poem addressed it to one of the most eminent persons in France* ; and it were unhappy should it not meet with the same good fortune in England. I am sure the original deserves it, which, though it may have lost much of its lustre by my translation, will yet recover its credit with advantage, by having found in your Lordship so illustrious a patron. Great men have in all ages bin favourable to the Muses, and done them honour ; and your Lordship, who is the true model of virtue and greatness, cannot but have the same inclinations for the delights which adorn those titles, especially when they are innocent, and useful, and excellent, as this poem is pronounced to be by the suffrages of the most discerning. I had else, my Lord, suppress'd my ambition of being in print, and set- ting up for a poet, which is neither my talent nor design. But, my Lord, to importune you no further, this piece presumes not to in- trude into your cabinet, but to wait upon you in your garden at jBws^on, where, if, when your Lordship's more weighty affairs give leave, you vouchsafe to divert your self with the first blossoms of my youth, they may, by the influence of your Lordship's favour, one day produce fruits of more maturity, and worthy the oblation of. My Lord, Your Lordship's most dutiful and most obedient servant, J. Evelyn. * William de Lamoignon, Marquis de Baville, First President of the Parliament of Paris, born 23 Oct. 1617, and died 10th Dec. 16/'. NAVIGATION AND COMMERCE, THEIR ORIGINAL AND PROGRESS. CONTAINING A SUCCINCT ACCOUNT OF TRAFFICK IN GENERAL; ITS BENEFITS AND IMPROVEMENTS: ©f S?i0cot3etiC0, asiate, anB €onflict0 at S>ca, &otn tjje oticinal of iraabiaarion to tjia Dag ; WITH SPECIAL REGARD TO THE ENGLISH NATION ; THEIR SEVERAL VOYAGES AND EXPEDITIONS, TO THE BEGINNING OF OUR LATE DIFFERENCES WITH HOLLAND; IN WHICH HIS MAJESTIES TITLE TO THE DOMINION OF THE SEA IS ASSERTED, AGAINST THE NOVEL AND LATER PRETENDERS, By JOHN EVELYN, Esq. S. R. S. Qui mare teneat, eum necessc est Rerura potiri. Cicero ad Attic. L. 10, Ep. 8. LONDON: PRINTED BY T. R. FOR BENJ. TOOKE, AT THE SIGN OF THE SHIP IN ST. PAUL's CHURCH-YARD. 1674. 4 L 627 TO THE KING. Sir, That I take the boldness to inscribe your Majesties name on the front of this Httle history, is to pay a tribute, the most due, and the most becoming my relation to your Majesties service of any that I could devise ; since your Majesty has been pleas'd, among so many noble and illustrious persons, to name me of the Councel of your Commerce, and Plantations : and if it may afford your Majesty some diversion, to behold, as in a table, the course, and importance of what your Majesty Is the most absolute arbiter of any potentate on earth, and excite in your loyal subjects a courage and an industry becoming the advantages which God and Nature have put into their hands, I shall have reach'd my humble ambition, and Your Majesty will not reprove these expres- sions of it in, Sir, Your Majestie's most dutiful, most obedient, and ever loyal subject, and servant, J. Evelyn. 628 NAVIGATION AND COMMERCE, THEIR ORIGINAL AND PROGRESS.* 1. Whosoever shall with serious attention contemplate the divine fabrick of this inferiour orb, the various and admirable furniture which fills and adorns it; the constitution of the elements about it; and, above all, the nature of man (for whom they were created), he must * Navigation and Commerce, their Original and Progress, &c. By J. Evelyn, Esq. F. R. S. 1674. 8vo. " In this elegant discourse, besides the largeness of the historical collections, the worthy author eKcites England, and adviselh the most advantageous preparations for our future defence, and for aggrandising our Trade and Commerce : which ought to be our care, whilst we have the oppor- tunity, and whilst we are less concern'd spectators of the wars round about us." — Fhil. Trans. Vol. IX. June 1674. No. 104. p. 88. " IS June 1670. My Lord Arlington carried me from Whitehall to Goring House, with the Marquis of Worcester: there we found Lord Sandwich, Viscount Stafford (since beheaded), the Lieutenant of the Tower, and others. After dinner my Lord communicated to me his Ma*ys desire that I would undertake to write the History of our late War with the Hollanders, which I had hitherto declined: tliis, 1 found, was ill-taken, and that I should disoblige his Ma'y, who had made choice of me to do him this service ; and if I would undertake it, I should have all the assistance the Secretary's office and others could give me, with other encouragements, which I could not decently refuse." Diary, vol. \. p. 403. " 19th Aug. 1674. His Majesty (Charles IL) told me how exceedingly the Dutch were dis- pleased at my treatise of " The Historic of Commerce," that tlie Holland Ambassador had com- plained to him of what I had touched of the Flags and Fishery, &c. and desired the booke might be called in ; whilst on the other side he assured me he was exceedingly pleas'd with what I had done, and gave me many thanks. However, it being just upon the conclusion of the Treaty of Breda (indeed, it was designed to have been published some moneths before, and when we were at defiance), his Maty told me he must recall it formally, but gave order that what copies should be publiqly seiz'd to pacific the Ambassador, should immediately be restored to the printer, and that neither he nor the vendor should he molested. The truth is, that which touched the Hollander was much lesse then what the King himselfe furnished me with, and oblig'd me to publish, having caus'd it to be read to him before it went to the presse ; but the error was, it should have been publish'd before the peace was proclaim'd. The noise of this book's suppression made it presently be bought up, and turn'd much to the Stationer's advantage. It was no other than the Preface prepared to be prefixed to my History of the whole warr, which I now pursu'd no further." Diary^ vol. I. p. 444. In the Index attached to the Diary and Letters, under the article " Dutch War," will be found /'- 9 629 needs acknowledge, that there is nothing more agreeable to reason, than that they were all of them ordaln'd for mutual use and communi- cation. 2. The earth, and every prospect of her superficies, presents us with a thousand objects of utility and delight, in which consists the perfection ■ „. \ of all sublunary things : and though, through her rugged and dlssever'd y, 'yy^ parts, rocks, seas, and remoter islands, she seem at first to check our ^ ^^ addresses ; yet, when we ag'en behold in what ample baies, creeks, -O^ trending-shores, inviting harbours and stations, she appears spreading her arms upon the bordures of the ocean ; whiles the rivers, who re-pay their tributes to it, glide not in direct and preecipitate courses from their conceil'd and distant heads, but in various flexures and meanders (as well to temper the rapidity of their streams, as to water and refresh the fruitful plains), methinks she seems, from the very beginning, to have been dispos'd for trafick and commerce, and even courts us to visit her most solitary recesses. 3. This meditation sometimes affecting my thoughts, did exceedingly confirm, and not a little surprize me ; when reflecting on the situation of the Mediterranean sea (so aptly contrlv'd for inter-course to so vast a part of the world), I concluded, that if the Hollanders themselves (who of all the Inhabitants in it, are the best skill'd in making canales and trenches, and to derive waters) had joyn'd in consultation, how the scatter'd parts of the earth might be rendred most accessible, and easie for Commerce, they could not have contrlv'd where to have made the in-let with so much advantage as God and Nature have done it for us ; since by means of this sea we have admission to no less than three parts of the habitable world, and there seems nothing left (In this regard) to humane industry, which could render it more consummate ; so impious was the saying of Alphoiisus * (not worthy the name of several references to the various circumstances connected with this subject. Evelyn, from his own account of his proceedings, appears to have used considerable labour in the composition of his work, as in the reading of the numerous official papers which were sent him for the purpose ; but when he had only planned the History, finding his intentions unsupported, he resigned them with something like disgust, and the ensuing fragment is all that remains of them. * Roderigo de Toledo, lib. 1. c. 6. 630 Prince) that had he heen of counsel with the Creator when he made the universe, he could have fram'd it better. 4. If we cast our eyes on the plains and the mountains, behold them naturally furnlsh'd with goodly trees ; of which some there are which o-row as it were spontaneously into vessels and canoes, wanting nothing but the launching to render them useful : but when the heart of man, or of God rather (for it was he who first instructed him to build), con- spires, and that he but sets his divine genius on work, the same earth furnishes materials to equip and perfect the most beautiful, useful, and stupendious creature (so let us be permitted to call her) the whole world has to shew : and if the winds and elements prove auspicious (which was the third instance of our contemplation), this enormous machine (as if inspir'd with life too) is ready for every motion ; and to brave all encounters and adventures undertakes to fathom the world itself; to visit strange and distant lands; to people, cultivate, and civilize uninhabited and barbarous regions ; and to proclaim to the universe the wonders of the architect, the skill of the pilot, and, above all, the benefits of Commerce. 5. So great and unspeakable were the blessings which mankind re- ceived by his yet infant adventures, that it is no wonder to see how every nation contended who should surpass each other in the art of Navigation, and apply the means of Commerce to promote and derive it to themselves ; God-Almighty (as we have shew'd) In the consti- tution of the world, prompting us to awaken our industry for the supply of our necessities : for man only being obliged to live politickly, and in society, for mutual assistance, found it would not be accomplish'd without labour and industry. Nature, which ordains all things necessary for other creatures, in the place where she produces them, did not so for man ; but ennobling him with a superiour faculty, supply'd him with all things his needs could require. Wheresoever therefore men are born (unless wanting to themselves), they have it in their power to exalt themselves, even in these regards, above the other creatures ; and the lillies which spin not, and are yet so splendidly clad, are not in this respect so happy as an industrious and prudent man ; because they have neither knowledge nor sense of their being and perfections : and 631 though few things indeed are necessary for the animal Hfe, yet has it no preroo-ative by that alone above the more rational, which man onely enjoys, and for whom the world was made ; seeing the variety of blessings that were ordained to serve him, proclaims his dominion, and the vastness of his nature ; nor had the great Creator himself been so glorified, without an intellectual being, that could contemplate and make use of them. We are therefore rather to admire that stupendious mixture of plenty and want, which we find disseminated throughout the creation ; what St. Paul affirms of the members of the little world being so applicable to those of the greater, and no one place, or country able to say, ' I have no need of another,' considered not onely as to con- summate perfections, but even divers things, if not absolutely necessary, at least convenient. 6. To demonstrate this in a most conspicuous instance, we need look no farther than Holland, of which fertile (shall we say) or inchanted spot 'tis hard to decide, whether its wants or abundance are really greater than any other countries under Heaven ; since by the quality and other circumstances of situation (though otherwise productive enough), it affords neither grain, wine, oyle, timber, mettal, stone, wool, hemp, pitch, nor almost any other commodity of use ; and yet we find there is hardly a nation in the world which enjoyes all these things in greater affluence ; and all this from commerce alone, and the eflFects of industry, to which not onely the neighbouring parts of Europe contribute, but the Indies, and Antipodes : so as the whole world (as vast as it appears to others) seems but a farm, scarce another province to them ; and indeed it is that alone which has built and peopled goodly cities, where nothing but rushes grew ; cultivated an heavy genius with all the politer arts ; enlarg'd and secured their boundaries, and made them a name in the world, who, within less than an age, were hardly con- sider'd in it, 7. What fame and riches the Venetians acquir'd whilst they were true to their spouse, the sea (and in acknowledgment whereof they still repeat and celebrate the nuptials), histories are loud of : but this, no longer continu'd than whilst they had regard to their fleets and their traffick, the proper business, and the most genuine to their situation. 632 From hence they founded a glorious city, fixt upon a few muddy and scatter'd islands ; and thence distributed over Europe the product of the eastern world, 'till, changing this industry into ambition, and apply- ing it to the inlarging of their territories in Italy, they lost their interests and acquists in the Mediterranean, which were infinitely more considerable. Nor in this recension of the advantages of Commerce is her neighbour Genoa to be forgotten ; whose narrow dominions (not exceeding some private lordships in England) have grown to a consi- derable state ; and from a barren rock to a proud city, emulous for wealth and magnificence, with the stateliest emporiums of the world. 8. The Easterlings and Anseatick towns (famous for early traffick) had perhaps never been heard of, but for courting this mistress ; no more than those vaster tracts of Sweden, Norway, Muscovy, &c. which the late industry of our own people has rendred considerable. The Danes, 'tis confess'd, had long signaliz'd themselves by their importu- nate descents on this island, and universal piracies, whilst negligent of our advantages at sea, we often became obnoxious to them ; but, when once we set-up our moving fortresses, and grew numerous in shipping, we liv'd in profound tranquillity, grew opulent and formidable to our enemies. 9. It was Commerce and Navigation (the daughter of peace and good intelligence) that gave reputation to the most noble of our native staples, Wool, exceedingly improv'd by forreigners ; especially since the reigns of Edward the Second, and Third ; and has been the principal occasion of instituting and establishing our merchant adventurers, and other worthy fraternities ; to mention onely the esteem of our horses, corn, tin, lead, iron, saffron, fullers-earth, hides, wax, fish, and other natural and artificial commodities, most of which are indigene and domestick, others imported, and brought from forraign countries. Thus Asia refreshes us with spices, recreates us with perfumes, cures us with drougs, and adorns us with jewels ; Africa sends us ivory and gold ; America, silver, sugar, and cotton ; France, Spain, and Italy, give us wine, oyl, and silk ; Russia warms us in furrs ; Sweden supplies us with copper ; Denmark and the Northern tracts, with masts and mate- rials for shipping, without which all this were nothing. It is Com- 633 merce and Navigation that breeds and accomplishes that most honour- able and useful race of men (the pillars of all magnificence) to skill in the exportation of superfluities, importation of necessaries ; to settle staples with regard to the public stock : what 'tis fit to keep at home, and what to send abroad ; to be vigilant over the course of exchange ; to employ hands for regulated salaries ; and by their dexterity to mode- rate all this by a true and solid interest of state, which, without this mystery, cannot long subsist, as not alwaies admitting permanent and immutable rules : in a word, the sea (which covers half the patrimony of man, renders the whole world a stranger to it self and the inhabitants for whom 'twas made, as rude as Canibals) becomes but one family by the miracles of Commerce, and yet we have said nothing of the most illustrious product of it ; that it has taught us religion, instructed us in polity, cultivated our manners, and furnish'd us with all the delica- cies of virtuous and happy living. 10. Whether the first author of traffick were the Tyrians, Trojans, Lydians, those of Carthage, or (as Josephus* will) the mercurial spirits soon after the flood, to repair and supply the ruines of that universal overthrow, we are not solicitous : that it entered with the earliest and best dales of the restored world we shall prove hereafter, by the timely applications of industrious men to inlarge and improve their condition. The Romans, indeed, were not of a good while, favourable to merchan- dizing ; for the patricians, senators, and great men might not be owners, in particular, of any considerable vessel, besides small barks, and pleasure boats ; and the most illustrious nations have esteem'd the gain by traffick and commerce incompatible with noblesse ; not for being enemies to trade, but because they esteem'd it an ignoble way of gain CqucBstus omnis indecorus 'patribus, sales Livy), and were all for con- quest and the sword; for, otherwise, they so encourag'd this industry, that the Latins § (whom for a long time they held under such servitude that they might not devise their estates when they dyed), if any one of them came to be able to build an handsome ship, fit for burthen and traffick, * Anti(),l. 1. f Latini multis niodis consequuntur civitatem Romanam ; ut, si navem £E(Hficaverint duorum niillium modiorum capacein, &c. Ulpian. Instit. Tit. Latinis, N. 6. 4 M 634 he was libertate donatus, and obtained his freedom, with power to make his testament, and capable of bearing office. And one would v\'on- der that traffick being so profitable, Lycurgus (that great law-giver amongst the Lacedemonians) should prohibit it : some believe it was for its being so obnoxious to corruption, and the luxury Introduc'd amongst the people by commerce with strangers ; the lying and deceit, perjury and theft, in buying, selling, and making bargains; for which reason Plato desl":n'd the towns of his common- wealth to be built far distant from the sea; and our Saviour scourg'd the monev -changers out of the temple ; so difficult a thing it is for those who deal much to preserve their hands clean. But 'tis said Plato chang'd his mind; and we all know that as the Romans themselves grew wiser, so they dig- nified it, and took off that ill-understood reproach, as the Orator has himself told us, when (condemning the pedlary and sordid * vices of retailers) he acknowledges, that where staple and useful commodities can be brought in to supply the needs of whole countries, 'tis a com- mendable service, videtur(^ue Jure Optimo, posse laicdari ; nay, shew'd by their own example, that for the greatest men to turn merchants did less taint their blood than their sloth and effeminacy ; and upon this account the wisest of the heathens (for such were Thales, Solon, Hip- pocrates, and even Plato himself,) have honour'd merchandize, and, of later times, many kings and princes ; and then Indeed does traffick rise to its ascendent, when 'tis dignified by their example, and defended by their power. This the Dukes of Florence and other potentates have long since understood, and now, at last, the French King: witness the repair of his ports, building of ships, cutting new channels, instituting companies, planting of colonies, and universal encouragement of manu- factures, by cherishing and eiuiobllng of sedulous and industrious per- sons. But, more yet than all this, or, rather, all this In more perfec- tion, his Majesty (our glorious monarch), by whose influences alone (after all the combinations of his late powerful enemies) such a trade has been revlv'd and carried on, and such a fleet and strength at sea to * Cicero de Offic lib. i. cap. 43. Mercatura autem, si tenuis est, sorditia putanda est. Nihil enim proficienf, nisi adniodum nientiantur. 635 protect it, as never this nation had a greater, nor any other of the past ages has approach'd ; witness, you three mighty neighbours, at once, tau«ht to submit to him ! For the blessings of navigation and visiting distant chmes does not stop at traffick only ; but (since 'tis no less per- fection to keep than obtain a good) it enables us likewise with means to defend what our honest industry has gotten, and, if necessity and jus- tice require, with inlarging our dominions too, vindicating our rights, repelling injuries, protecting the oppress'd, and with all the offices of humanity and good nature ; in a word, justice, and the right of na- tions, are the objects of commerce ; it maintains society, disposes to action, and communicates the graces and riches which God has va- riously imparted : from all which considerations 'tis evident that a spirit of commerce, and strength at sea to protect it, are the most cer- tain marks of the greatness of empire, deduced from an undeniable soi'ites, that whoever commands the ocean, commands the trade of the world, and whoever commands the trade of the world, commands the riches of the world, and whoever is master of that, commands the world itself; so as had the Spaniard treble his wealth, lie could neither be rich nor safe with his prodigious sloth; since, whilst he has been sitting still, we and other nations have driven the trade of the East Indies with his treasure of the West, and, uniting, as it were, extreams, made the Poles to kiss. They are not therefore small matters, you see, which men so much contend about, when they strive to improve commerce, and by degrees promote the art of navigation, and set their empire in the deep, from whence they have found to flow such notable advantages. Instances of this we might add in abundance ; and that it is not the vastness of territory, but the convenience of situation; nor the multitude of men, but tiieir address and industry, which improve a nation. Cosmo di Medices would often say, that the prince who had not the sea for his friend, was but half a prince; and this Charles the Fifth had well con- sidered, when he gave it for a maxime to his son Philip, that if ever he would sit quiet at home, and advance his afixiirs abroad, he should be sure to keep up his reputation on the waters. The truth is, this great Emperor had neglected his interest at sea, and it laid the foundation of the rebellion of his Low Country subjects against his successor. To 636 pretend to universal monarchy without fleets, was long since looked on as a Dolitick chymeera, and was wittily insinuated* to Antigonus by Patroclus, when (being a commander under Ptolemy Lagus's son) he sent him a present of fish and green figgs, intimating that unless he had the sea in his power, he had as good sit at home and trifle ; it was but labour in vain. And this was the sense of another as great a cap- tain, when reckoning up the infinite prerogatives which the sea afforded. Xenophon f seems to despise the advantages of the land in comparison. Truly, the Romans themselves were longer in struggling for a little earth in Italy only, than in subduing the vthole world after once their eagles had taken flight towards the sea, and urg'd their fortune on the deep. When once they subdu'd Agrigentum J, Carthage was no longer im- pregnable ; and after they had pass'd Gades and the Herculean Streight, nothing was too hard for them ; they went whither they would, and cruiz'd as far as Thule. 11. We shall not adventure to divine who the hardy person was who first resolv'd to trust himself to a plank, within an inch of death §, to compel the woods to descend into the waters, and to back the most im- petuous and unconstant element ; though probably, and for many rea- sons, some-body long before the deluge ; isti sunt jiotentes (6. Gen. 4). Grotius, on the place, will have the navigationis reper-tores piratce, such as in succeeding ages were Jupiter Cretensis, Minos, &c. since it is not imaginable the world, that must needs be so populous, and was so curious, should have continu'd so many ages without adventures by sea: but the first vessel which we read of, was made by divine instinct and direction, and whilst the prototype lasted (which, histories tell us, was many hundred years), doubtless they built many strong and goodly ships. But, as all things are in continual flux and vicissitude, so the art in time impair'd, and men began anew to contrive for their safety or necessity in rafts and hollow trees ; nay, paper, reeds, twigs, and lea- ther (for of such were the rude beginnings of the finish'd pieces we now admire) ; till, advancing the art, by making use of more durable mate- * Athenaeus Deipnosoph. 1. S. f In Repub. Athen. t Polybius. § llli robur & ss triplex circa pectus . Hor. Digitis k morte remotus quatuor. 637 rials, they then began to build like shlp-wrlghts, when Pyrrhon the JLydlan invented the bending of planks by fire, and made boats of several contignatlons ; nor contented with the same model, the Platenses, Myslans, Trojans, and other nations, contended for the various shapes. Thus to Sesostris is ascribed the long-ship fitted for expedition : Hippus the Tyrlan devls'd carricks and onerary vessels of prodigious bulk, for traffick or oflPence : Athenseus speaks of some that for their enormous struc- ture had been taken for mountains and floating islands ; such was that of Hiero describ'd by the Deipnosophist*, a moving palace, adorn'd with gardens of the choicest fruit, and trees for shade : Hlppaglnes j- is said to have transported the first horses in larger boats ; others ascribe it to Darius, when he retir'd into Thrace; though we think them rather of antienter date, for what else means the ferrying over King David's goods and carriages, mentlon'd in the second book of Samuel ;]; ? Thus far the keel ; for to the divers parts of vessels, for better speed and govern- ment, several were the pretenders. The Thasii added decks ; Pisseus the rostrum, or beak-head ; Tiphys the rudder; Epalamius compleated the anker, which was at first but of one flook ; but before all these was the use of oars, which from the Bireme §, invented by the Erythreei, came at last to no less than fourty ordines, or banks (for so many had Ptolomy Philopater's gaily ||), which, how to reconcile with possible (though that famous vessel were built for pomp and ostentation only, and therefore with a double prow), together with those monstrous ships of war set forth by Demetrius, which had in them 4000 rowers, let the curious consult the most learned Palmerius, in his Diatriba upon a fragment of Memnon % ; and for portentous and costly vessels, the late Vendosme built by Lewis the Xlllth of France, the Swedish Maga- leza, the Venetian Bucentoro, not to omit those carricks which the Spaniard emploies yearly to his Indies. But, neither did all these helps suffice, 'till they added wings too : they attribute indeed the invention of masts and cross-yards to those of Creete; but to Theseus, Icarus, * Oneraria cerealis Siracusia, &c. t Vide Plin. Hist. Nat. lib. vii. cap. 57- edit. I. G. Franzio. Lips. 1779. vol. III. p. 303, note s. X 2 Sam. xix. 18. § Biremis pistrix, vallata turrita, &c. II Plutarch, in Demet. Athenaeus, lib. c. 9. ^ Phoc. 717. 638 and Dedalus the application of sails, which, 'tis said, Proteus first skill'd to manage, and shift with that dexterity, as he was fain'd to turn himself into all shapes ; and it was, doubtless, no little wonder to see that a piece of cloth (or, as Pliny, wittily, a despicable seed, for so he calls that of hemp, of which sails were made,) should be contriv'd to stir such a bulk, and carry it with that incredible celerity from one ex- tream of the earth to the other. Of that esteem was this ingenious invention, that, besides Prometheus and the rest we nam'd, whole coun- tries challeng'd it, and the Rhodians, lonians, Corinthians, those of Ty- rus, ^gypt, iEgineta, Boetia, with innumerable other, vaunt themselves masters of the science ; nor is there any end of their names. It were a thino- impossible to investigate by whom the several riggings of vessels and compleat equipments were brought into use : the skill of pilotage has aids from mathematics and astronomy * ; and that of governing ships in fight is another and a different talent. These, and many more, were the daughters of time, necessity, and accident ; so as even to our daies there is ever something adding or still wanting to the complement of this incomparable art. Of the magnet we shall speak hereafter, nor are we to despair in the perfecting of longitudes, dies diem docet, and whilst many pass, science shall be still improv'd. We shall onely ob- serve, concerning men of war, fleets, and armadas for battel, that Minos was reported to be the author, which shews that manner of desperate combat on the waters to be neer as antient as men themselves, since the Deluo-e: indeed, to this prince do some attribute the first knowledge of Navio-ation f, and that he disputed the empire of the seas with Neptune himself, who, for his power on the watry element, was esteem'd a god. But, however these particulars may be uncertain, we are able to make proof, that the first fregats were built by the English, and, generally, the best and most commodious vessels for all sort of uses in the world ; and, as the ships, so those who man them acknowledg'd for the most expert and couragious in it. But, 12. From the building of ships we pass to the most celebrious expe- ditions that have been made in them. The Gentiles (who doubtless * Consult Vegetius, Pollux, Laz. Bayfius, Crescentius, &c. t Diodorus, 1. 6 ; Strabo, 1. 10. 639 took Saturn for Noah, and his sons for other of the deities,) magnifie sundry of their adventures by sea : and, if from the immediate oiF- sprlng of that ancient patriarch, Shem and Japhet, the Asiatick-Iles, and those at remoter distances in the Mediterranean and European seas, were peopl'd (whilst the Continent, and less dlssever'd Afrlck, was left to Cham), we have a certain epoche for the earliest expeditions, and shall less need to insist on those of the mythical and heroic age ; the exploits of Osiris, Hercules, Cadmus ; the wandrlngs of Ulysses, and the leaders that expugn'd Troy. To touch but a few of these: Bacchus, whose dominion lay about the Gulph of Persia, made of the first adven- tures, when from him (after the rape of Ariadne) the Tyrrlan pirates learn'd the art of navigation, or rather to become more skillful rovers; if at least they were not of the first for antiquity in this art; since the Phoenicians (whether expell'd by Joshua, or transported by their curio- sity,) having spread their name in the Mediterranean, were admir'd as gods for their boldness on the waters, and esteem'd among the first that navigated, according to that of the Poet, Prima ratem ventis credere docta Tyros*. That Cadmus sail'd into Greece, peopl'd those lies in the .ffigean, taught them letters and sciences, as he had learn'd them from the Hebrews, we have undoubted testimony. Some affirm that the Phoenicians clrcl'd the world long since ; and Herodotus has something to that purpose, where in his Melpomene he speaks of those whom King Necus caus'd to embark from the Red Sea, and that ten years after return'd home by the Columns of Hercules through the Strelghts : however, that they penetrated far beyond the Western Ocean, and the shores of Afrlck, the expedition of Hanno, in a navy of lx ships, makes out by grave writers ; so their coming as far as our Britain, the pillars which they fixt at Gades and Tingis -j-, to which some report they were crept in early dales : and as towards the West, so Eastward, taking colonies from Elana and the Persian-Gulph. As to what they might be for merchants, illus- trious is the proof out of Esay ;[;, where Tyrus is call'd " the croivning * TibuUus, lib. i. eleg. vii. \ Procopius. f Isaiah, xxiii. S. 640 city, whose merchants are princes, whose traffickers are the honourable of the earth ;" when, under the pretence of transporting commodities into Greece, they carried away lo, daughter of Inachus, which the Cretans requited, when shortly after their amorous god sail'd away with the fair Europa in the White-Bull ; for so was the vessel call'd, which gave occasion to the fable, and serves to prove how antient is the giving names and badges *. Indeed, so expert were those of Crete in sea-affairs, and so numerous in shipping, as, by the suffrage of ancient times, there were none durst contend with them for sovereignty. Let us hear the tragedian : O Magna vasti Creta dominatrix freti, Cujus per omne littus innumerae rates Tenuere pontum, quidquid Assyria tenus Tellure Nereus pervium rostris secat-f- . 13. The Colchick exploit in the famous Argo (so call'd from her nimble sailing) was perform'd by above 50 gallants, of which nine were chief under Jason, and Glaucus his experienc'd pilot: but, whe- ther they went to those countries about the Euxine shores in hopes of golden mines (shadow'd by the fleece), or in expectation of the philoso- pher's stone (said to be in possession of King iEta), we leave to the romancers. There is in Homer a list of heros, and ships under their command, mention'd to be set out by the Ilava^a/o/, or States-General of those provinces, reported to have been no less than a thousand : Non anni domuere decern, non niille Carinset. And that this number is not fictitious, not only the wondrous exactness of the poet in describing the commanders by name, but the number of ships under each flag, as the learned Mr. Stanley shews us, makes it good beyond exception in his excellent notes upon iEschylus, and we propose the instance, because it is so very remarkable for its antiquity. 14. But, to quit these dark and less certain memorials, and mingle that of commerce with martial undertakings. The first for whom we — — ^ — . . ■ J _ * Vide Valer. Flaccum Argonaut, 1. 8. Herodot. Hesychiunij Suidani, Senecam, Lucianum, Stra- bonem. Amongst the Poets, Virgil, Persius, Statius, &c. t Senec. Trag. in Hippolyto, act. 1. 1 Iliad. 2. 641 have divine and infallible record, is of the greatest and the wisest prince that ever sway'd a scepter: for though it appear the Phoenicians had us'd the sea before, and perhaps were the first* merchants in the world since the deluge, yet it was Solomon doubtless who open'd the passage to the South ; when, animated by his directions, and now leaving-oflf their rafts, and improving their adventures in ships and stouter vessels, they assay 'd to penetrate the farthest Indies, and visit an unknown hemisphere; or, if haply they prevented him, yet were now glad to joyn with this glo- rious monarch, because of those advantagious ports his father had taken from the Idumeans, which might otherwise interrupt their expeditions. What a mass of gold and other precious things (the peculiar treasure of princes) this fleet of his brought home the succeeding story relatesf. And there is farther notice of mariners, whose trading was for spices and curiosities ; and the voyage to Tarshish (which by some is interpreted the Ocean, as indeed it signifies in the Chaldean language, but doubt- less means Tartessus in Spain), is again repeated. Jehosaphat, after Solomon, neglected not these prosperous beginnings, though not with equal success ; for the ships were broken at Esion-Geber. We shall onely remark, upon the account of commerce, that Solomon had no less than two fleets destln'd for traffick, of which one went to Ophlr (per- haps Sophra, Taprobana, or Ceilon) in the East Indies, and the other to Tarsis, that is (Tartessus) Cales ; which being then and long after es- teem'd the utmost confine of the world, had its name from the Phoeni- cians, as well as divers other places, and ports of Europe (even as far as Italy, France, and Britanny it self), which both they and we reserve to this day in no obscure footsteps : and that Spain abounded in plenty of gold too (whatever some superficial searchers think) we learn from Strabo, Diodorus, Mela, Pliny, and several grave authors ;{;, whose attes- tation may be of good weight, the Tyrians and Phoenicians frequently sailing into those parts. But, though we had yet no print of this from the sacred volumes, it is not to be devis'd how the isles of the Gentiles, and other places of inaccessible distance, could be planted and furnish'd t 2 Cliron. ix. 21. J See Bochartus Phaleg. 1. 3. c. 7. Canaan, 1. 1. c. 34. 4 N 642 without those early intercourses by sea, which by degrees (as in part is shew'd) accompHsh'd the dominions of warlike men and states, and encourag'd some to stupendious attempts. 15. To proceed to instances of unquestionable credit, we have those of the Persians and Greeks, both before and since the Peloponnesiack war : and, indeed, the Greeks were the first of the heathens that joyn'd learning with arms, that did both do and write what was worthy to be remembred ; and that small parcel of ground, whose greatness was then onely valu'd by the vertue of the inhabitants, planted Trapizond in the East, and divers other cities in Asia the Less, the protection of whose liberties was the first cause of war between them and the Persians. As to exploits, the Athenians, and smaller islands of the ^gean, exceedingly amplified their bounds with their naval-power; so as Thucydides enumerates their annual descents upon Peloponnesus, during that quarrel. But the exploits of Alcibiades, both when so ungratefully exil'd from his country and after he was again restor'd to it, were celebrated in story, as well as those of Conon *, under whom we first hear of a treasurer of the navy, for the better paying of the sea-men, even in those early daies : but these conflicts did many of them concern the Persian by Tissaphernes under Darius, Artaxerxes, and others : the differences also with the Megarences, where Pislstratus obtain'd the victory, and the exploits of Themistocles ; but especially that decretory battle in which Xerxes's fleet of 1500 men of war, was vanquish'd by less than 400, which gave the absolute dominion of the sea to one city, and so inrlch'd it that the Lacedemonians (envious at her prosperity) maintain'd a war against it, to the almost ruine of both. See the effects of avarice ! But this was indeed before the Peloponne- sian war, between the Lxxx and lxxxiv Olympiad, and first com- menc'd against strangers, and then the Lacedemonians, Corcyreans, and other their neighbours, for the space of seven years continu- ance, till by the courage and good conduct of Lysander, a peace was at last concluded, with the destruction of Athens, as it usually happens to the first who give the occasion, and are the aggressors. She was yet * Justini, Hist. Philippicoe, lib. 5. 643 set-up once again, by that gallant exile whom we nam'd, under the banner of Artaxerxes ; but so to the desolation of poor Greece (weakn'd by her many conflicts) that King Philip, and his son Alexander, soon took their advantage, to make themselves first masters at sea, and then of the world ; for they are infallible consequents. And here we might speak something of Corinth, a city (if ever any) emulous of the highest praises for traffick and exploits at sea ; but we involve her amongst the Grecians, and pass over to the opposite shoar ; where, upon division of the Macedonian empire, we find the Carthaginians (a people originally from Tyrus) of the earliest fame for Commerce, and so well appointed for the sea, as gave terrour to Rome herself: nor do we forget the Syracusans, renown'd for their many glorious actions at sea, which continu'd to the very Punick War, the most obsti- nate that history has recorded. 16. It was 492 years from the foundation of the city, before they had atchieved any thing considerable on the waters ; when finding the wonted progress of their victories obstructed by those of Carthage (then lords at sea), they fell in earnest to the building of ships of war, and devising engines of offence, which before they hardly thought of. Their first expedition by sea was under Appius Claudius, against the Sicilians, which made those of Africa look about them, and gave rise to the Punick War under Cajus Duillius, and his collegue, with an hun- dred rostrated vessels, and seventy-five gallies : but the most memo- rable for number was when the two admirals M. Regulus and L. Manlius, with above an hundred thousand men (in ships that had every one three hundred at the oar), were encounter'd with a yet more prodigious force in the battle at Heraclea, unfortunate to the Carthaginians : but, neither did it so determine : for, when Hannibal (returning out of Spain) invaded Italy, the Romans found no better expedient to divert him, than by dispatching Scipio, with a fleet into Africa, The third and last contest (after a little repose) determin'd not till the utter ruine and subversion of that emulous neighbour. These several conflicts with this hostile city (which lasted near twenty years) are admirably de- scrib'd by Polybius ; especially that of M. Regulus, who with that unequal power fought three battels in one day ; and in another, 644 ^millus (with about the same number of ships) took and sunk above an hundred more, and slew near forty thousand of the enemv, though by the terrible and unfortunate wrack which. afterwards surpriz'd him, such another victory had undone them. They made war, after this, with the Achaians, Balearians, Cilicians, Sertorians, and those of Crete ; indeed, wheresoever they found resistance, diffident yet at first of this unaccustom'd manner of combate, and which for sometime caus'd them to lay it by ; but they quickly resum'd it, and overcoming all difficul- ties, then onelv might be said to speed conquerours of the world when they had conquer'd the sea, and subdu'd the waters. 17. The Piratick-VVar of Pompey we find celebrated by Tullv, pro lege Manilia : he invaded the Cyclades, won Corcyra, got Athens, Pontus, and Bithynia*, and cleared the seas with that wonderful dili- gence, that in forty dales time he left not a rover in all the Mediterra- nean, though grown to that power and number as to give terrour to the Common-wealth. We forbear to speak of Sextus, his unfortunate son, vanquish'd by the treachery of his Ijibertus Menodorus f , and pass to the great Augustus, who in many sea conflicts signallz'd his courage ; especially in that decretory battail at Actium, where the contest was de siimtna I'erum, and the world by sea, first subdu'd to the empire of a single person. What discoveries this mighty prince made, did as far exceed his praedecessours, as the frozen north and horrid coasts of Cimbrla the milder clime of our Britain, which was yet in those dales esteem'd another world, and her boundaries as much unknown as those of Virginia to us; 't was call'd ^/^e?" Orhis ; and grave authors J, who speak of the unpasslbleness of the ocean, mention the worlds that lay beyond it : Morinorum gentem idtimam esse mor- talium, says Ptolomy ; and the prince of poets, Extremique hominurn Morini. For it appears no late fancy, that all was not dlscover'd long before Columbus ; though those who took the heavens for a kind of hollow * Florusand Plutarch. f Call'd also Menas by Horace, Epod.on Ode IV. X Especially Clem. Romanus. See also Joseph us, Dio, Eutropius, Scaliger, &c. 645 arch, covering onely what was then detected, little dream'd of Anti- podes. 'Tis famous yet what the prophetick tragaedian * has ofFer'd at, and a thing beyond dispute, that the antients had the same notions of our country as of America : but to leave tliese enquiries at present ^till we come more particularly to speak of our country in the follow- ing series), we shall onely, as to the Romans, give the curious a taste what care these wise people had of their naval preparations, when once ;(as we have shew'd) they found the importance of it, and after how prudent a method they dispos'd it. 18. Augustus had in his military establishment one squadron of men of war at Ravenna, as a constant guard of the Adriatic ; and another riding at Misenum -j-, to scowr the Tyrrhen-Sea, together with a brigade of foot-souldiers at either port, to clap on board upon any sudden occasion. The Misenian fleet lay conveniently for France, Spain, Morocco, Africk, ^gypt, Sardinia, and Sicily J ; that at Ravenna, for Epirus, Macedon, Achaia, Propontis, Pontus ; the Levantine parts, Creete, Rhodes, and Cyprus, &c. § So as by the immber of their vessels and arms they made a bridge (as it were) to all their pro- vinces and vast dominions, at what distance soever || : and many of these particulars we could farther illustrate by medals and noble inscriptions to be gather'd out of good records, did we need the ostentation of any farther researches 5[ : we shall only observe, that they had their prcBtorio prcefectus, who inspected all this. Ma- rine laws and customes they also had : whence was it else that the corn fleet was still from Alexandriato make Puteoli, as it were by coquet bound; so the ships of that port: See Acts xxviii. 11, 12, 13 Whence else was it that onely the same corn fleet as being of so absolute necessity for the sustenance of the imperial city, had the pri- viledge to come into harbour with top and top gallant; unless the rest did supparurn dimere, or strike sail to the ports of the empire ? So early was the claim to the flag, and the ceremonies of naval-honour stated. Yet higher ; their rostrate crowns*, and that pretty insolence * Senec. in Med. f Sueton. in Aug. c. 49. % Vegetius. § Notilia Imperii. II MIL. CL. P. R. AR. Miles CInssis Prcetorice Ravermatis. f PRiETOR. MAR. ET. CL. M. R MilUia RavennalU. «» See Tally de Sencct. 646 by act of senate allow'd to C. Duilllus, after having won the Romans their first victory at sea, that he should, all his life after, be brought to the publick entertainments in the Town-Hall with a pipe playing before him, and flambeaux on each side*; that column too, whose fragments yet preserv'd, exhibit with the memory of that illustrious action perhaps the ancientest piece of Latin now extant, at least in the originals. All these allegations do abundantly testifie with what trans- ports of joy that aspiring people receiv'd the accession of power by sea. They also had their Dccurice fabrorum Rhavennatium, master ship- wrights of the dock at Rhavenna ; and we find fire-ships mention'd in Frontinus \ ; stink-pots, nay snake-pots, and false-colours ; for such we read were us'd by Cassius, Scipio, Annibal, M. Fortius, Iphicrates, Pisistratus, and others. And if the Trajan port at Ostia were now extant, we might see such a pattern of a mole, lantern, magazine for ships, and accommodation for merchants goods, as was never before in the world, and would put to shame all modern industry of that nature ; to shew the care they had, and the prodigious expences they made, for this so important and necessary a work : but these things hapning in her early and best daies, the fervour quickly abated ; for from the death of Auo-ustus, and some few of the succeeding emperours (as in that decline t, by the conduct of Belisarius, Artabanes, and some of the later captains) the Romans, as powerful by land as they were, performed not much at sea : those glorious actions were the consequents of a frugal and vigilant people ; but, when softness and prodigality took off their minds from the great and noble enterprizes of their ances- tors and the defence of their country was discompos'd by factions among themselves, the Goths, Vandales, Lombards, and Saracens broke in upon them, to the utter ruine and subversion of that renowned empire. 19. But the business of Navigation and Commerce (which could not long be eclips'd, so soon as a magnanimous prince appear'd) was again reviv'd under Charles the Great ; about whose time it were not hard to * Gruter's Inscripiions. t Front. Stratagem, 1. 4. c. 7. * Vide Procopiura, 1. iJ. Paulus Uiaconus, 1. 14. 647 find out the original of almost all the naval-offices, and thalassiarchia or admiralty, to this day continuing ; as appears in both the Notitice Imperii Occidentalis §• Orientalis, wherein there occur divers notable particulars concerning them, even till the loss of Constantinople and the imperial seat itself: but to trace this great article from its source, and shew the progress it has made in the ages past, we have but to look over the catalogue which Eusebius * has given us, adjusted to the epoche in which they had successive dominion of the sea : namely, the Lydians whom (as appearing the most conspicuous) he sets in the van : then the Pelasgi, Thraces, Rhodians, Phrygians, Phoenicians, the iEgypt- ians, Milesians, those of Carla, Lesbia, the Phocenses, Naxli, Eretrien- ses, ^ginetse, and others too long to recite : let us look back to the Egyptians, who we read were so addicted to traffick as they essayed to joyn the Mediterranean with the Red-Sea, and thereby open a passage to the Commerce of Arabia, Ethiopia, and the shoars of India: which attempt (unsuccessful as it prov'd) did not yet impeach the Alexan- drian staple, from whence Rome of old, the Genoezes, Venetians, and others of later date, have inricht themselves : for the eastern scale being in Caesars time at Coptos, and afterwards remov'd to Alexandria ; when the Arabs and Goths overran the world (and the Indian trade interrupted), was convey'd to Trebezond upon the Euxine, and from thence by caravan to Aleppo, thence again recover'd to the Red-Sea, and Alexandria by the Sultan, who then possessed Cairo, where it was long monopoliz'd by the Venetians, of whom we give a more particular account. What immense treasure the Romans received out of Asia and Syria ; out of Africa from Egypt, and by the Nile ; the Persian Gulf, and from India, we are told out of Strabo f. This merchandize was first convey'd over-land from Berenice, by Philadelphus (to avoid the perils of navigating the Red-Sea (to Popta on the Nil us ; and thence (with the stream) to Alexandria, though many ships adventur'd to pass from Murls (or the Berenice above-mentlon'd) even to the very Indies ; by which means there came yearly to Rome no less than 1000 tuns of gold, besides other precious commodities. But, when the * In Thesaurus Temporum. f Lib. I7. 648 empire fell to decay, the Venetians (as we noted) took their advantage, till then a few scatter'd cottages of poor fisher-men and others, fugitives from the Gotic Inundation, and setling by degrees upon a cluster of divers muddy and almost inaccessible islands : see what Commerce can effect ! But these industrious people assay'd another way, namely, from Ganges through Bactria, and the River Oxus, and so by the Caspian Lake, Astracan, and the Volga ; thence to Tanais by the Euxine, and so to Venice ; truly an immense circle, and which soon wearied them out, when even of later times the negoce of India was supplied from Tripoly, and Alexandretta (cities of Syria), and from Aleppo by cara- van, to which scale inerchants came from Armenia, Arabia, ^gypt, Persia, and generally from all the oriental countries. From Aleppo again they return'd to Blr near the Euphrates ; thence to Badaget, or Ophram in Media; Balsara, and the gulph all down the stream : to this Balsara is yet brought all sorts of Indian commodities, as far as Ethiopia, and the islands of that oeean ; where, being charg'd on smaller vessels, they are tow'd-up against the Euphrates to Bagdet ; in which passage being now and then interrupted by the thievish Arabs (especially at the frontiers), intelligence is familiarly convey 'd by the intcr-nunce of pidgeons trained up for the purpose, that is, carried jH open cages from the dove-houses, and freed with their letters of advice (contriv'd in narrow scrowls about their bodies, and under the wing), which they bring with wonderful expedition : as they likewise practise it from Scanderoon to Aleppo upon the coming in of ships, and other occasions. These were the later intercourses from Venice to and from the oriental parts, till in the year 1497 that the famous Vasco de Gama (that fortunate Portugueze, and whom we may truly call the restorer of Navigation,) found out a nearer way, by going farther about : for Henry, the third son of John the First of Portugal*, hearing that Bethencourt, a Norman, had detected certain islands in the Atlantick Ocean some years before f , sent two ships in search of the Africa shears southwards : ten years after this, Gonsalves Zargo and Tristan Vaz made discovery of Madera ;J;, and certain Genoezes had sail'd as far as * I -110. t 1344. + Dc'ttcted before by one Machin, an English man. 649 Sierra Leona, within eight degress of the /Equator ; after which, there was little advance till the reign of Alphonsus the Second, in whose time the Portuguezes coasted as far as the promontory of St, Katherine, under the second degree of southern latitude : hut John the Second sending men by the old way of Alexandria, and the Midland-Sea to Goa, Peter Covilan, an active spirit amongst them, hearing of a famous cape, which extending itself far into the sea, and that being doubl'd, did open a passage into the east, brought news of it to King Emanuel (then reigning), who thereupon employ'd the two brothers Vasques (whom we nam'd) and Paulo, with four vessels and 160 men, with that success, as to discover a passage to the Indies by Long-Sea, to the almost utter ruine of Venice ; and, in a short time after, to the total interruption of that tedious circle by land, rivers, and lakes, which we have been describing; nor are we to forget Petrus Alvarez, Almeida, and others : and in this manner for divers years (at least till the reign of John the Third) did the Portugals and Spaniards carry the trade of the world, from the rest of the world, till the Hollanders (being prohibited all intercourse with the ports belonging to the Catholick-Kings) attempted the same discovery, and in short time so out-did the former, that by the year 1595 they had establish'd a company for the East-Indies, and within a while after, another for the West *, which has subdu'd the best part of Brazile, and in the year 1628 fought and took the Spanish Plate-fleet to their immense inrichment : but in what manner they have setled themselves and factories in those parts, and by what arts maintain'd it, will require a fuller discovery. 20. We not long-since mention'd the Goths and Vandals, and who almost has taken notice of the ancient port of Wisby, formerly a receptacle of ships, and famous emporium in those parts ? when even the laws and ordinances of Wisby took place, like those of Oleron from Muscovy, to the streights of Gibraltar; and though both Olaus Magnus, Herbestan, and others, have exceedingly celebrated this city, and haven ; yet we cannot learn how it came to be deserted, unless by * 1624. 4 o 650 luxury and dissentions of the inhabitants ; hy none (that we can find) recorded : but that it was once in so flourishing a state, testifie the yet remaining heaps, the columns of marble, jasper, and porpnvrie ; the gates of brass and iron, exquisitely wrought, and other foot-steps of august foundations. Albertus the Swedish King endeavour'd by great privileges to have (\t seems) establish'd again, and restor'd it to its ancient splendour, but it did not succeed : nevertheless, the laws we mention'd (written in the old Theutonick language, and without date), obtain'd amongst the Germans, Danes, Flemmings, and almost all the northern people ; we mention the instance to shew, that as some places have set-up and thriven by their industry, so others have lost what they once possess'd ; and that this vicissitude is unavoidable, Tvrus, and Carthage, and Corinth, and Syracuse (that in their turns contended with all the world for Navigation and Commerce), are pregnant exam- ples. The famous Brundusium (whence the great Pompey fled from the fortune of Ceesar) is now quite choak'd-up : Joppa is no more, and Tinjis, which of old Jeriv'd its name from Commerce, and was a renown'd emporium near three hundred years before Carthage was a city, was lately the desolate Tangiers ; though now again, by the influ- ence of our glorious monarch, raising its aged head with fresh vigour. But what's become of hundreds we might name ; Spina near Ravenna, Luna in Etruria, Lesbss, and even Athens her self * ? When nearer home, and at our own doors, Stavernen in Friezland, anciently a famous port, now desolate ; Antwerp (lately the staple for the spice and riches of the East, and that sold more in one month than Venice did in four and twenty) lies abandoned. The stately Genoa (which once employ'd twice-twenty thousand hands in the silken manufacture) is now, with her-elder-sister Venice, ebbing apace ; Venice, I say, the belov'd of the sea, seems now forlorne, compar'd to what she was, and from how small a principle she had spread ! 21. The Bretons and Normans (especially against the Saracens), those of Province, Marseilles, Narbonne, &c. had long since been famous at We say long since, for the ancient Gaules had great commerce with * Strabo, Dionys. Halicai'nas. See Isaiah, chap, xxiii. 651 those of Carthage (as appears out of Polybyus and Livy), but the French in general have of later dales, and since the reign of Charles the Eighth, performed little considerable. Francis the First (that magnificent Prince, who had made the famous Andrea Doria his admi- ral) built indeed no less than fifty gallles for the Italick-War, and had some conflicts with our king his neighbour; but Henry the Fourth seem'd wholly negligent of sea-affairs, relying upon the generosity of Queen Elizabeth, in whose daies neither he nor any other poten- tate about her, durst pretend to shipping, or such fleets as might give jealousie to their allies; which, had this incomparable Princess, or rather her peaceful successor, as well observ'd with the Hollanders in point of Commerce and Trade too, the ages to come, as well as present, had been doubly oblig'd to their memory. But the scene is now chang'd, as well with them as with France; since Cardinal de Richelieu, in the reign of Lewis the Thirteenth, instituting a colledge and fraternity of merchants about thirty years since ; and by opening, enlarging, and im- proving their ports and magazines, has put the present Monarch into such a condition, as has exceedingly advanc'd his Commerce, and given principle to no inconsiderable navy ; and if Claud. Pat. Sesellius *, the Bishop of Marseilles' prophecies succeed (who writ about the time of Lewis the Twelfth), the northern world is like to have an importunate neighbour within few years to come, from his growing power, even upon the ocean. 22. The Danes and more northern people were formidable (especially to this island) under the conduct of their brave Canute, Ubbo the Fri- zian, and other captains; making frecpient descents upon us in mighty fleets, encounter'd by the Saxons : but all these living more by brigandize and piracy than by traffick, gave place to the Spaniard and Portugals, whose successful expeditions and discoveries have rendred them deserved- ly more worthy for these last six or seven hundred years, than any we have hitherto mention'd, for their shedding of blood and invasions. Nor with less glory, and timely application of themselves to sea-afFairs, did the for- merly-mention'd Genoezes, and others of the Ligurian coast, signalize * De Repub. Gallise, 1 2. 652 their courage, as well as their dexterity in traffick, especially against the Saracens; since which they did exceedingly flourish, till the Dukes of Tuscany, by better policy, and the direction of Count Dudley (pre- tended Duke of Northumberland), raising its neighbour Ligorn from a despicable and neglected place to a free and well-defended port, did well nigh ruin it ; for by this means the greatest merchants for repitte in the world (namely, those of Genoa) are become the greatest and sordidst usurers in it ; as having otherwise little means to employ the riches which they formerly got by a more honest and natural way of trade. But as the opening of Marseilles may in time endanger that of Ligorn, whilst the French King is courting all the world with natura- lization, and other popular immunities ; other princes are instructed how to render themselves considerable, who are blest with any advan- taglous post upon the bordures of the ocean ; and of this, Gotenberg (not to mention Villa -Franca, and some other ports,) is now a worthy instance, which till of late was hardly known beyond its wooden suburbs, though it must be acknowledg'd that both the Danes and Sweeds had pert'orm'd notable exploits ; the former from Herald the Third, by the conduct of Ubbo the Frisian (not to insist on their heavy impositions on this island), and the latter from Gustavus the First, who serv'd himself of gallies even upon the Northern Seas, built for him by the Venetians, and set out that enormous ship we mentioned, which carryed thirteen hundred men. What conquests the late great Adolphus made, with an armada of two hundred ships, is known to the amazement of Europe. 23. We have more than once shew'd from how humble a riseVenice had exalted her head, and spread the fame of her conquests, as well as Navigation, over Asia, ^gypt, Syria, Pontus, Greece, and other coun- tries bordering upon the ocean : she war'd against the Istrians, and van- quish'd the Saracens. In the Holy-land they won Smyrna, devasted all the Phoenician shoars, especially under Dominico Michaele, who with two luuidred vessels, having rais'd the siege of Joppa, took Chios, Samos, Lesbos ; to omit their successes against the Genoezes emulous of their growth, but never to forget the former, and of late strenuous resistance against the Turk ; especially in that signal battle of Lepanto, 653 and what their famous general Capello did at Tunis and Algiers of later time, and the building, furniture, and ceconomy of their arsenal and magazines celebrated throughout the world ; when (before the lucky Portuguezes had doubl'd the Cape of Bon-Esperanza) the sweet of the Levantine Commerce (transfer'd from this port onely) invited men to build not ships alone, but houses and palaces in the very bosom of Neptune, with a stupendious expence, and almost miraculous. The government of their maritime affairs, care of their forrests, victualling, courage and industry of their greatest noble-men, who are frequently made captains of single gallies, and sometimes arriving to be chief admirals, come near a dictatorship ; are things worthy of praise, and of the name they have obtain'd. Genoa (whom we mention'd) had signaliz'd it self against the Saracens, the Republic of Pisa, and even Venice it self, especially under Paganus Doria in the year 1352, near the Bosphorus straight ; and with the Island of Tenidos had been hir'd by the young Andronicus to come into his assistance. From the time of Cosmo di Medices, and Sylvius Piccolomini their Admiral, the Flo- rentines gave proof of their valour in Africa, and of their care for sea affairs, the Arsenal at Pisa gives a commendable instance. 24. The Rhodans (to whom some attribute even the invention of Navigation, and whose constitutions were universally receiv'd,) obtain'd a mighty repute at sea ; and the courageous exploits of the Maltezes and other military orders against the common enemy, the Turk, are renown'd over the world ; witness ten thousand which they slew, and half as many that they took in the year 1308, with hundred thoiisands of those miscreants destroy'd by them since their removal to Malta ; especially when joyn'd with the gallies of Venice and Genoa, in the years 1601, 1625, 1638, and other slaughters innumerable. We name the Turk, and they give us cause to remember them, by what the Christian Pale has too often felt, when, more by their numbers than their courage, they took from it Cyprus, Rhodes, and the never to be forgotten Candia, besides their conquests and incursions on the rest of Europe and Asia ; they are not, 'tis confess'd, of any name for much Commerce, but for the disturbance of it, which calls aloud upon the Christian world to put a timely period to their insolence, before it be 654 incorrigible, and to pursue the bold and brave exploits of our Blakes, Lawsons, and Sprags, against the Moores and Barbares, and by example of our heroic prince, to restore that security to trade, which can onelv make it re-flourish. 25. The ^vthiopians, Persians, Indians, and Chinezes (for those of Tartary present or ancient Scyths come hardly into this account), may be reckon 'd among the nations of traffic; especially the last nam'd, as who are by some thought to have had knowledge of the magnet before the Europeans ; nay, so addicted were they to sailing, that they in- vented veliferous chariots, and to sail upon the land : it was long since that they had Intercourse with those of Madagascar, and came some- times as far as the Red-Sea with their wares ; and for vessels have to this day about Nankin, Jonks of such prodigious size, as seem like cities rather than ships, built full of houses, and replenlsh'd with whole fami- lies : in short, there is hardly a nation so rude, but who in some degree cultivate navigation, and are charm'd with the advantages of commerce. But it would cost an Immense volume to discourse at large of these things in particular, and to mention onely the brave men who have in all ages signalized themselves at sea for their arms, or more peaceful arts ; to count the names of the famous captains and adventures of later times, whose expeditions have been war-like, and for invasion, and many for discoveries and commeixe. Here then we contract our sails, and shall direct our course nearer home, from whence we have been so long diverted. 26. The first that presents itself to our second consideration, are the Spaniards and Castillans, who (upon the success of their neighbours the Portugals), making use of that fortunate stranger Columbus, prompted by a magnanimous genius and a little philosophy, discover'd to us a new world. This great man being furnlsh'd out by Fenllnand and Isabella of Castile, in four voyages, which he made from the year 1492 to 1502, detected the Antillias, Cuba, Jamaica, &c. with some of the Terra Jirma ; though, to let pass Zeno (a noble Venetian, reported to have discover'd the North-east part of America above an hundred years before *), there be who tells us, that a certain obscure mariner » 1390. 655 (Alphonso Zanches de Huelva by name) had the first sight of this goodly prospect eight years before this glorious Genoeze (for Columbus was of that city), or any of the pretenders. This poor sea-man, hurried upon those unknown coasts by tempests, which continu'd for almost a full month, was carried as far as St. Domingo in Hispaniola : how he return'd is not said ; but that from the observations of this adventure Christophero receiv'd the first notices of what he afterwards improv'd, being at that time in the Maderas, where Zanches arriving, died not long after, and bequeath'd him all his charts and papers. There are per- sons likewise who affirm, that some mean Biscayers (losing themselves in pursuit of whale-fishing) had fall'n upon some of the American Islands, above an hundred years before either of the former ; but, since of this we have no authentic proofs : certain it is that Columbus, taking his conjectures from the spiring of certain winds from the Western points, by strong impulse, concluded that there must needs be some continent towards those quarters. Upon this confidence, he offers first his service to John King of Portugal, and then to our Henry the Seventh of Eng- land, by both which princes rejected for a romantic dream, he repairs to the Court of Spain, where, partly by his importunity, and much by the favour of Isabella, he was with great difficulty set out at last ; v^hen to equip him, the royal lady was fain to pawn some of her jewels : but it was well repaid, when for the value of 17,000 crowns he not long after return'd her almost as many tuns of treasure, and within eight or nine years, to the Kings sole use, above 1,500,000 of silver, and 360 tuns of gold*. See the reward of faith, and of things not seen! These fortunate beginnings were pursu'd by Amerlcus Vesputius (a Floren- tine, and a stranger too), who being sent by Emanuel of Portugal to the Molucca Islands (five years after), hapning to be driven uj)on the same coast, carried away the name, though not the honour, from all the former, though there be who upon good proof affirm that John Chabot, a Venetian, and his son Sebastian (born with us at Bristol), had dlsco- ver'd Florida, and the shoars of Virginia, with that whole tract as far as New-found-land, before the bold Genoeze ; nay, that Thorn and Eliot (both countrymen of ours) detected this New-world before Columbus * 1497. 656 ever set foot upon it ; for we will say nothing of the famous Owen Gwy- nedd, whose adventures are of yet greater antiquity, and might serve to give reputation to that noble enterprize, if we Imd a mind to be con- tentious for it. But, 27. That indeed the most shining exploits of this age of discoveries were chiefly due to the several heros of this island, we have but to call over the names of Drake, Hawkins, Cavendish, Froblsher, Davis, Hud- son, Raleigh, and others of no less merit: for impossible it was that the English should not share in dangers with the most renowned in so glorious an enterprize; our Drake being the first of any mortal to whom God vouchsafed the stupendlous atchievement of encompassing not this New- World alone, but New and Old together; both of them twice em- brac'd by this deml-god ; for Magellan, being slain at the Manlllias, was interrupted in his Intended course*, and left the exploit to Sebas- tian Camus his colleague. 28. This voyage of Drake was first to Nombre de Dios; where coming to a sight of the South-Seas, with tears of joy in his eyes, his mind was never in repose till he had gotten into it, as in five years after he accom- pHsh'd it, when passing through the Magellan Straight towards the other indies, and doubling the famous promontory, he circumnavigated the whole earth, and taking from the Spaniard, St. Jago, Domingo, Cartagena, and other signal places, crown'd in the name of his mistress the Queen, at Nova Albion, he return'd to his country, and to a crown of immortal honour. This gallant man was leader to Cavendish, an- other countryman of ours, of no less resolution ; for these brave persons, scorning any longer to creep by shears, and be obllg'd to uncertain constellations, plow'd-up unfathomable abysses, without ken of earth or heaven, and really accomplish'd actions beyond all that the poets of old, or any former record, fruitful in wonders, could invent or relate. 29. And now every nation, stimulated by these adventures, daily added new things to the accomplishment of the art ; things, I say, un- known to former ages. And herein were the Portugals very prosperous, one of whose princes brought first into use the astrolabe, and tal)les of declination, with other arithmetical and astronomical rules applicable to * 152S. 657 navigation ; besides what several others had from time to time invented : but neither were these to be compar'd to the nautic box and feats of the magnet, before which the science was so imperfect, and mari- ners so terrified at long voyages, that there were laws to prohibit sail- ing, even upon the Mediterranean, during the winter season ; and, however great things have been reported of Plato's Atlantic, the dis- coveries of Hanno, Eudoxius, and others of old time, from the Per- sian Gulph, as far as Cales : it was still with sneaking by the shoar, in continual sight of land, or by chance, which indeed has been a fruit- ful mother in these and most other discoveries, that men might learn humility, and not sacrifice to their own uncertain reasonings. In that memorable expedition* of the French to invade our country, there was hardly a pilot to be found who durst adventure twenty leagues into the main; and those who had been the most assur'd did hardly reach within many degrees of the i^l^quinoctial. The Azores were first stumbl'd upon by a roaming pirat, surpriz'd l)y storm : all the Asiatic Indian seas, and some of Africa, lay almost as much in the dark as the Hyperboreans and horrid North. And though this defect was encounter'd more than two ages past f , by that ever to be renown'd Italian, Flavio of Melphi (for we pass what is reported of the ancient Arabs, Paul us Venetus, and others), yet was it near fourscore years after ere it came so far North as these countries of ours, to which his needles contiimally pointed. But it was now when the fullness of time was come, that by this means the Western Indies should be no lono-er a secret, and what have been the incomparable advantages which this despicable stone has produc'd (the property whereof is ever to have its poles converted to the poles of the world, and its axes directed parallel to the axes of the world), is argument of admiration : but that by virtue of this (lull pebble such a continent of land, such myriads of people, such inexhaustible treasures, and so many wonders should be broupfht to light, plainly astonishes, and may instruct the proudest of us all not to contemn small things, since so it oftentimes pleases the Almighty to humble the loftiness of men, and to choose the base thiners of the world to confound the things that are mighty. And less than this we could * 1305. t 1465. 4p 658 rtot say concerning that inestimable jewel by whose aid and direction the commerce and traffick of the world has receiv'd such advantages. 30. We have now dlspatch'd the Portugals and the Spaniards : there remain the English and the Hollanders, who, courting the good graces of the same mistress, the trade of the world, divide the world between them. Deservedly then we celebrate the industry of the Batavians : they must really be look'd upon as a wonderful people ; nor do we di- minish our selves whilst we magnifie any worthy actions of theirs, since it cannot but redound to our glory, who have been the occasion of it, and that as often as they have forgotten it, we have been able to chas- tize them for it : it is, I say, a miracle, that a people (who have no principle of trade among themselves) should in so short a space become such masters of it : their growth ('tis confess'd) is admirable ; and if it prove as solid and permanent as it has been speedy, Rome must her self submit to the comparison : but we know who has calculated her nati- vity *, and that violent things are not alwaies lasting. We will yet give them their due ; they are gyants for stature, fierce in beard and counte- nance, full of goodly towns, strong in munition, numerous in shipping; in a word, high and mighty states, and all this the product of commerce and navigation ; but by what just arts equally and in all parts improv'd, we may hereafter enquire, as well as to whose kindness they have been the most obliged and the most ingrateful. We omit to speak here of their discoveries and plantations, which the curious may find in the journals of Heemskerk, Oliver Vander-Nordt, Spilberg, Le Maire (who went six degrees farther South than Magellan himself, and found a shorter passage into those seas); to these we may add L'Eremite, the late compilers of their Atlasses, and others, which many volumes would hardly comprehend, because they are generally known. Tacitus, and other famous authors, have celebrated their early exploits at sea ; and, of later times f, Fredrlc Barburossa did bravely against the Sara- cens at Peluslum in ^gypt. The Frizians greatly infested the Danes, and those of Flanders, especially under William the son of John Count of Holland, and in the time of Philip the good Duke of Burgundy. They were the first that wore the broome, when, anno 1438, they had * Bentivoglio, Guerra di Fiandra. t 1219- 659 clear'd the Levantine seas, subdu'd the Genoezes, and vanquish'd the French about an hundred years after*: how they plagu'd the Spaniard and Portugals, from the year 1572 to almost this day, there is no body igno- rant of; and for that of their discoveries, Quce vei'o ignota marium li- tora quasve desinentis mundi oras sci'utata non est Belgarwn naidica^} was justly due to them from Strada; and the truth is, they have merited of fame for many vertues, and shew'd from what small and despicable rudiments great things have emerged; and that traffick alone, which at the first raised, has hitherto supported this grandure against a most puissant monarch for almost an age intire : but, their admission of for- reigners, increase of hands, encouraging manufactures, free and open ports, low customes, tolleration of religions, natural frugality, and in- defatigable industry, could, indeed, portend no less. We conclude then with England, which, though last in order, was not the last in our de- sign ; when, upon reflection on our late differences with our neighbours of Holland, we thought it not unsuitable to preface something concern- ing the progress of that commerce which has been the subject of so many conflicts between us. 31. To the little which has been hitherto said of the great things which our nation has perform'd by sea In the later ages, we might super- add the gallantry and brave adventures of former ; since from no obscure authors we learn J, the Britains to have accompanied the Cimbrians and Gauls in their memorable expedition into Greece, long before the Incarnation of our Lord, and whilst they were yet strangers to the Ro- man world ; not to insist on the Cassiterides, known to the Phoenicians, and with so much judgment vindicated by a learned author § in that his excellent and useful Institution. In all events we resort to the greatest captain, and, without dispute, the purest of ancient writers: the descrip- tion which Caesar || makes of the supplies this island afforded the Gauls (and which made him think it worth his while to bring over his legions hither), will inform us, that the structure of their vessels was not alto- * V. Pont. Heuterus Austi'. 1. 13, t Stiadee de Bello Belgico, Decas. 1. lib. 1. pag. IS. folio, Rom. 1632. * Camden ; Strabo, 1. 3. j W. Howell, Institution of Gen. Hist. — Bocharti Canaan, 1. 1. c. 39. & 1. 3. c. 9. II De Bello Gall. lib. 3. 660 gether of twigs and oxes -hides ; and the Veneti, it seems, had then a navy of no less than 200 sail, built of goodly oak, tall, and so bravely equipped for war, and to endure the sea, as that great general acknow- ledo-'d the Romans themselves had nothing approach'd it : which we mention, because divers grave authors believe the British vessels (sent sometime as auxiliaries) were thought to be like them. And the slender experience which the Gauls (or, in truth, any other neighbour of theirs) had of the opposite shoars, when the Britains were thus instructed both for defence and commerce (and at that time permitted certain mer- chants onely to frequent their coasts), is a fair prgescriptlon how early she intituled her self to the dominion of the seas; which, if at any time interrupted by barbarous surprise or invasion (as in the ages following it seem'd to be), yet neither did that continue any longer than till the prevalent force was established, which soon asserting the title, as lords, and in right of England, maintain'd her praerogative from time imme- morial. I know not why, therefore, a solitary writer or two should go about to deprive this nation of more than twelve hundred years at once, because an herolck prince has had the misfortune to have his mighty actions reported by some weak and less accurate pens ; yet such as the times wherein they llv'd could furnish, especially too, since this has been the fate of as brave men as any whom history has recorded : but, by this pretence, some there are who would take from us the renowned Arthur, who is reported to have led his squadrons as far as Ice-land *, and brought the Northern people under his flag, planting the confines of the British Ocean as far as the Russian tracts ; and this (together with all the Northern and Eastern isles) to be, de jure, appendices unto this kingdom, we may find in the leges Edivardi, confirm'd by the Norman Conquerour, for so it had been left to the famous Edgar (to mention onely Egbert, Alfred, Ethelred, &c. princes all of them sig- nally meritorious for their care of the sea), who, soon finding by expe- rience what benefit and protection his country receiv'd by the extraordi- nary vigilancy on the coasts, and the vindicating of his dominions on the waters, cover'd them at once with no less than four thousand sail ; * See 'APXAIONOMIA, sive, de Priscis Anglorum Legibus, written by Lambard, and published b)' Mr. Wheelock. 661 nor, it seems, without cause (the time consider'd), since we lay so ex- pos'd to a barbarous enemy. Alfred (whom we mention'd) found it so in his daies (a sober and well-consulted prince), and therefore provided him self of the same expedient against the troublesome Danes, whom he not seldome humbl'd ; but this maxime, as often neglected, did as cer- tainly expose the nation to prey and contempt, as not long after it, to the Norman power*, and may so again to a greater, when through a fatal supineness we shall either remit of our wonted vigilance and due provi- sions, or suffer our upstart neighbours to incroach upon us ; so true is that saying, hy what means any thing is acquird, by the sarne 'tispre- servcl. Did this island wisely consider the happiness of not needing many frontiers to protect her from hourly alarms, or inland fortresses to check the suddain and rude incursions to which all continents are ob- noxious, she would not think her bounty to her Prince a burthen, who, by maintaining a glorious and formidable navy at sea, not onely renders her inhabitants secure at home, without multiplying of governours and guarnisons (which are ever jealovis to a free and loyal people), but, un- less wanting to themselves, repairs their layings-out with immense advantages ; and by securing and improving that trade and commerce which onely can render a nation flourishing, and which has hitherto given us the ascendant over the rest of the world : so true is another axiom. Qui mare teneat, eum necesse est rerum potiri-\; but without which 'tis in vain to talk of sovereignty. 32. By these politicks King John was enabl'd to pass the seas into Ireland with a fleet of 500 sail, imperiously commanding whatever ves- sels they should meet withal about the eight circumfluent seas, to arrest them, and bring them to understand their duty: but our third Edward (to whom the house of Burgundy ow'd so much) equipp'd above a thousand tall ships upon another occasion, with an handful whereof he defeated a prodigious navy of the French and Spaniard that were gotten together ; and we have seen a perfect and undoubted list of no fewer than 700 men of war which this Prince brought before Calais, though * Nimis multa exstare documenta Britanniae esse dominos qui essent maris. Grotii, Annales et Hist. Belgicis, lib. 13. f Cic. ad Attic. 1, 10. ep. 8. 662 he made use of but 200 of them, to vanquish a fleet consisting of more than double the number, with the loss of thirty thousand French ; which had such an influence on his neighbours, that whereas till then there had been some remisness in the nation, and a declension of sea-aflPairs, the bravest and greatest men in the land began greedily to embrace maritime employments, and the title of Admiral *, introduc'd in his prsedecessors time, was now held in the highest esteem. 33. We mention'd the house of Burgundy, and it had reason to re- member us and our wool, which was the fairest flower of that ducal coronet, and, as some good antiquaries remark, really gave institution to their golden fleece : however it were, this wise prince, representing to the Flemings their miserable posture (at that time obnoxious to the French, as of late they have likewise been), and inhibiting the importa- tion of forraign cloths, the serene and quiet condition of this happy island invited them over to settle here, erect their manufacture amononst us, and joyn their art to our nature. 34. We pass by the exploits and glorious atchievments perform'd by our Kings against the Saracens in the Holy-War, which charg'd the shields of the ancient nobless, and of which all Asia resounded. Here our Edwards, Henries, and Richards, did memorable things ; in parti- cular, Richard the Second took of the French almost an hundred ships at once, of which some were vessels of great burthen, richly fralte ; and an Earl of Arundel (bearing this Princes name) beat, took, and destroy 'd 226 ships, deep laden with 13,000 tuns of wine, coming from La Ro- chelle, after an obstinate encounter, and many brave exploits. To these we might add, the gallant preparations of Henry the Fifth, and of several more, had we a design or any need to accumulate instances of our puis- sance and successes at sea, so thickly sown in forrelgn as well as domestic histories : but he that would be instructed for a more ample discourse, may take notice of the League made between Charles the Great and our Mercian Offa (now more than 700 years since), as he may find it in an epistle of the learned Albinus, or the learned Alcuin ('tis all one), and consult our countrymen Walsingham, (William of) Malmesbury, and * Thalassiarcha. See Vossius de Vitiis Sermonis et Glossematis Lat. 1. 2. It is deriv'd from Emir, or Amir Prafectus, in Arab. , 663 other writers, where he will see in what high repute this nation has been, both for its numerous shipping and the flourishing commerce it main- taln'd in the most known parts of the world ; and which we may farther confirm by the several authentic statutes and Immunities yet extant, not omitting the ^o^jcy of keeping the sea, facetiously, yet solidly set forth in ihe gooA old jjrologue, intituled, The Process of the Libel, written more than 200 years past, not unworthy our deepest reflexions : and verily, it were a madness in us to neglect the care of those causes from whence (^as by a series of them will yet appear) the effects of all our temporal blessings spring, and by vertue whereof they can only be malntain'd. 35. Henry the Seventh, and his magnificent successor, were both of them powerful at sea, though the too weak faith of the former deprlv'd him of the most glorious accession that was ever offer'd to mortal man. This he endeavour'd to have repair'd by the famous Cabott, whom he afterwards employ'd to seek adventures ; and, though the success were not equal, it was yet highly laudable, and (as we have shew'd) not alto- gether without fruit. 3Q. Henry the Eighth, his son, had divers conflicts with the French *, triumphing sometimes in sails of cloth-of-gold, and cordage of silk : but that which Indeed repair'd the remissness of the one and profusion of the other, and gave a demonstration of how -absolute concern traffic and strength at sea are to this Island, was the care which Queen Eliza- beth took, when, by her address alone, she not only secur'd her king- doms from the formidable power of Spain, but reap'd the harvest too of that opulent monarch, and brought his Indies Into her own Exchequer; whilst that mighty prince had onely the trouble to conquer the New- World, and prepare the treasure for her : and this she did by her influ- ence on navigation, and by the courage and conduct of those renowned heros who made her reign so famous. 37. This glorious Princess had 130 sail of fair ships, when she sent over for the Island voyages, of which 60 were stout men of war ; and with these (besides many other exploits) she defended Holland, defied * Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Hist. Hen. VHI. See also that rare piece of Hans Holbein's in his Majesty's Gallery at Whitehall. 664 Parma, and aw'd the whole power of Spahi : with an handful of these (comparatively) she defeated the invincible Armada in 1588, encoun- ter'd and took gallions and other vessels of prodigious strength and hulk ; and what havock was made at Cales, by yet a smaller number, her enemies to this day feel. Grotius *, speaking of this action, tells us, that the wealth gotten there by the Earl of Essex was never any where parallel'd with the like naval success; and that if these be- ginnings had been pursu'd (as with ease they might, had the brave man's counsel been follow'd}, it had prov'd one of the most glorious en- terprises that history has recorded : however, besides the immense spoil and treasure they took, and the marks they left of their fortitude (to the loss of 1200 great guns of the enemies, irreparable in those daies), the Spaniard was not so redoubted abroad as they left him miserably weakn'd at home. To these we may number the trophies won by parti- cular adventurers : Sir Francis Drake havuig, with four ships onely, taken from the Spaniard a milhon and 189,200 ducats in one expedi- tion, anno 1587 ; in a single bottom, 25,000 pezos of the most refined gold; and after, with a squadron of five and twenty sail, terrifying the whole ocean, he sack'd St. Jago, Domingo, and Cartagena (as before mention'd), and carried away with him, besides other incredible booty, 240 pieces of artillery, which was a prodigious spoil in those early daies, and when those instruments of destruction were not in such plenty as now they are. What shall we say of John Oxenham, one of the Argo- nauts with Drake ? who, in a slender bark, near Nombre-de-Dios, having drawn up his vessel to land, and cover'd it with a few boughs, marched with his small crew over unknown paths, till arriv'd at a certain river, and there building a pinnace with the timber which they fell'd upon the spot, he boldly launches into the South Sea, and, at the Island of Pearls, took from the Spaniard 60,000 lb. weight of massie-gold, and 200,000 in silver ! though lost in his return with it, by the perfidy of his associates. Such an exploit is hardly to be parallel'd in any story. Sir Richard Grinvill, in another voyage to Cadiz, with but 180 soul- diers (of which 90 were sick and useless) in the ship Revenge, main- * Annal. 1. 5. 665 taln'd a conflict for 24 hours against 50 Spanish galHons, sinking four of their best vessels. Than this, what have we more ! what can be greater ! In sum, so universal was the reputation of our countrymen in those daies for their strenuous exploits at sea, that even those who took all occasions to depress and extenuate them, are forc'd here to acknowledge, and that from the pen of an author whose word goes far "That the Greeks and Romans, who of old made good all their mighty actions by naval victories, were at this time equal'd by the for- titude and courage of the English *." 38. 'Twas in her daies they discover'd far into the North-east, and North-west, Cathaian, and China passages, by the indefatigable dili- gence of Willoughby, Burrough, Chancelor, Button, Baffin, Frobisher, James, Middleton, Gilbert, Cumberland, and others f, worthy to be con- sign'd to fame : in her brother's, the Sixth Edward's reign, the formerly- mention'd Chabott had six times attempted the North-west tracts to the Indies ; and long before these, a bold prince of ours essay'd to pass the Moluccas by the same course, entred the streights of Anian, and is by some intituled to the first discovery of the Canaries. The Summer- Islands, and the goodly continent of Virginia, were first detected, and then planted by the English ; among whom we may not pass by the in- dustry of Captain Jones, Smith, and other late adventurers, whose great exploits (as romantic as they appear) were the steady effects of their cou- rage and good fortune. We have said yet nothing of Pool, who began the whale-fishing ; nor of Captain Bennet, who discover'd Cherry- Island ; Pet and Jack man, that pass'd the Vaigatee, Scythian Ices, and the river Ob, as far as Nova Zembla ; of John Davis, who had pe- netrated to 86 degrees of latitude, and almost set his foot upon the Northern Pole : here let us also remember Captain Gillan, to the last- ing honour of his highness Prince Rupert, and the rest of those illus- trious adventurers ; nor forget to celebrate the heroic inclination of his sacred Majesty, our great Charles, under whose auspices Sir John Nar- * Graiorum Romanorumqiie gloriae, qui res olim suas navales per acies asseruerunt, non dubite tunc Anglorum & fortuna, & virtus respondit. Grotii, Annales et Hist. Belg. t See Hakluyt's Collection of Voyages, folio, 1599. 4q 666 borough has lately pass'd and repass'd the Magellan Strelght, by which that modest and industrious man l>as not onely performed what was never done before, but has also made way for a prospect of immense improvement. Finally, 39. It was Queen Elizabeth who began and establish'd the trade of Muscovy, Turky, Barbary, and even that of the East Indies too, how- ever of late interrupted by ungrateful neighbours : nor less was she vigilant at land than at sea ; mustering at once no fewer than one hundred and twenty thousand fighting-men of her own vassals, not by uncertain computation, but effectually fit for war. And indeed, but for the extraordinary virtue of this brave virago, not England alone, but even France and Holland, had truckl'd under the weight of Spain, whose ambition was then upon its highest pinnacle : in one word, Navigation and Commerce were in her days in so prosperous a condition, that they seem to have ever since subsisted but upon the reputation of it ; and the success of our countrymen in tiieir attempts at sea was so far superiour to other nations, as by the suffrage of the most learned strangers (and to shew it was universal) they could but acknow- ledge, Omnibus hodie gentibus Navigandi industrid §- peritid, supe- riores esse Anglos, ^ post Anglos, HoUandos * ; for we do not fear to give even our greatest enemies their dues, when they deserve it. 40. We now arrive to King James and Charles the First (Princes of immortal memory) ; and for the former, there was in his time built (besides many others) those two gallant ships, the Trades-Increase, and jthe Prince; the one for encouragement of Commerce, and the other a Man of War; and though upon different accounts, and at different times, they both unhappily miscarried, yet they serv'd to tes- tifie that neither defence nor trade were neglected, since as to that of the first. Sir Walter Raleigh doubts not to affirm, that the shipping of this nation, with a squadron of the Navy-Royal, was in this Princes time able, in despight of Europe, to command the ocean, much more to bring the Nether- Lands to due obedience : but says he, as I shall never think him a lover of his country or Prince who shall perswade his Majesty from cultivating their amity, so would I counsel them to • Keckernianni, Systema Foliticum, Svo, 1625. 667 remember and consider it ; that seeing: their intercourse lies so much through the British seas that there is no part of France, from Calais to Flushing, capable ot succouring them ; that, frequently, out-wards by Western-winds, and ordinarily, home-wards, both from the Indies, Straites, and Spain, all Southerly-winds (the breezes of our climate) thrust them of necessity into his Majesties harbours ; how much his Majesties favour does import them. For if (as themselves confess) they subsist by Commerce onely, the disturbance of that (and which England alone can disturb) will also disturb their subsistence. I omit the rest ; because I can never doubt either their gratitude or their prudence. But this brave man was, it seems, no prophet to foresee how soon they would forget themselves : they began in his days to be hardly warm in comparison, and indeed it is not (as observes the same person) much beyond a century, that either the French, Spanish, or Hollander, had any proper fleets belonging to them as kingdoms or states ; the Venetians, Genoezes, and Portugals, being then (as we have noted) the only competitors both for strength and traffick ; the Dutch little considerable, since within these fifty years, the Spanish and Portugals employ'd many more ships at sea than the Hollander (their fishing-busses excepted), who, 'til furnish'd with our artillery, were very contemptible, as may be made out by undeniable evidence : inso- much that the formerly-mention'd Raleigh affirms, one lusty ship of his Majesties would have made forty Hollanders strike sail, and come to an anchor : they did not then (says he) dispute de Mari Libera. But will you know in a word from him, what it was that has exalted them to this monstrous pitch ? It was the employing their own people in the fishery upon our coasts ; by which they Infinitely inrich'd them- selves ; 2. Their entertaining of auxilliaries in their difficult land- services, by which they preserv'd their own vassals ; 3. The fidelity of the house of Nassaw, from which they had a wise and experienc'd general ; 4. The frequent excursions of the Duke of Parma into France, hindring the prosecution of his growing successes ; 5. The imbargo of their ships in Spain, and interdicting them free trade with that nation, which first set them upon their Indian adventures ; 6. And, above all, the kindness of Queen Elizabeth. But the case is (it seems) 668 much alter' (1 since that worthy Knight made his ohservations, and took his leave of the Prince of Orange at Antwerp ; when (after Leicester's return) he pray'd him to say to her Majesty, Suh umbra alarum tuarum protegimur ; for that they had wlther'd in the bud without her assist- ance. 41. We have yet but only mentlon'd the Inherent right of the crown of England to the dominion of the seas, because the legality and the reason of it have been asserted by so many able and famous pens, from which we learn that it doth of justice appertain to the Kings of Great Britain *, not only as far as protection extends (though there were no other argument to favour us), but of sacred and immemorial royalty : but 'tis pretended by those great names ■j' who have of late disputed this subject, and endeavoured to depose our Princes of this empire Jure naturce §- gentium, that the sea is Fluxile elementum, Sf quod nun- quam idem possideri non posse ; that 'tis always in succession, and, that one can never anchor on the same billow ; that water is as free as the air ; and that the sea terminates empires which have no bounds ; and therefore that no empire can terminate that which acknowledges none ; and though all this were nothing ; that his Majesties father had tamely lost it to the late usurpers, which is an Insolent scoff of Marlsotus's, triumphing over a fetter'd lion ; whilst for all this, to patch up a wretched pretence, he descends to take hold of a certain obsolete and fceudatarie complement, sometime since passing between the two Kings ; as if a ceremonious acknowledgment for a province or two in France (which is an usual deference among Princes upon certain tenures) gave sufficient title and investiture to all that the Kings of England possess in the world besides. But in this sort do the parti- zans of aspiring monarchs manage their egregious flatteries, whilst to silence all the world, we can shew it prescription so far beyond the present race of Kings, that even the name of their Pharamond was not known J when the empire on the sea set limits to the coasts of Gaul, and said, " hitherto shall ye come." — Nor to that alone, but even as far * Seldeni, Maie Clausuin, folio, 1635. f Grctiiis. Is. Pontanus. Moriscoli oi bis Maiitinii, fol. 1643. Cleirac Couitume.- de l;i Mer, 4to, 1647. J Mela. 669 as Spain it self ; for to what pretence could those Princes have to this dominion, whose very monarchy is but of yesterday, in respect to the goodly extent which now they call France ? and especially when the only maritime provinces were shread into so many fragments and cantons, under their petty Princes ; for so were Narbonne, Bretayne, Aquitaine, and even Normandy it self (portions belonging then to our Kings), nor had they 'till of later days so much as the office of admiral belonging to the sea, that is, till their expedition into the Holy-Land, when yet they were fain to make use of the Genoezes to transport them, as we have it confess'd by their own authors*. As to their other arguments, we need not spend much breath to dilute those pittiful cavils of the instability and fluctuation of the waves, &c. ; which could not be there without a channel and a bottom to contain them, as if we contended for the drops of the sea, and not for its situation, and the bed of those waters; and since rivers and streams have the same reason on their side to exempt them from being in com- mon, and at every man's disposure. And these things I have only touch'd to repress the pruriency of some late flatterers, who not only injure a truth as resplendent as the sun, but the justice of a great Prince, whom by these false colours they would provoke to unrighteous disputes ; whilst we pretend to nothing but what carries with it the strongest eviction a thing of this nature is capable of. 42. Needless it would be to amuse the reader with recounting to him at large how, in the ancient division of things, the sea havino- been assign'd over with the land, there sprung up from the same original a private dominion ; but undoubtedly, when God gave to man the sove- raignty of the ocean, by intitl'ing him to the fish which were produc'd in the bowels of it, (that is, to the thing itself by its use and enjoy- ment,) by the same grant he passed over to him, and consign'd to his disposure the distribution of it, and introduction of a separate and peculiar jurisdiction. There is nothing more perspicuous than our case, and as to his Majesties claim (the reasons for it rightly consider'd) from * Jo. Tilius lie Rep. Gall. 1. 2. 6^0 so many royal predecessours, and so long a tract of years, who for security of Navigation and Commerce between their neighbours and allies were at such vast expences to equip and set forth great ships and navies; and that upon the intreaty and solicitation of those who recurr'd to their protection, and might themselves justifie the prescribing rules and boundaries to such as should pass the seas, and receive such recog- nitions and emoluments as were peculiar and within their tircle, both for their honour and maintenance. The deduction shall be very short, considering how vast an ocean of matter lies before us ; but it shall be full. 43. Caesar, ere he had Invaded Britain*, summoning the Gallic mer- chants to Inform him of the shores and situation of our ports, could it seems learn nothing from them ; for, says he, not a man of them frequented that rlvage without licence; and when Claudius had subdu'd the more Southern parts of the nation, the British Sea following the fate of the whole island, came with the same privileges to be annex'd to the empire, and did never loose them through all the revolutions which happen'd ; but that as soon as the prevalent power came to be settl'd, they immediately asserted their dominion on the sea. That of very wide extent this nation had peculiars of its own, the consternation of the Calldonians evince f, when in the time of Domitian, Agrlcola sailing round the island, they were in such perplexity to see him in their chambers, for so they called those northern streams. But not longer to insist on these early beginnings, and what the Romans did when the frame of that empire was chang'd about the time of the great Constantine J, the Comitesoi the Saxon shore (substitutes to him who commanded the West) had their jurisdiction over all the sea, from the borders of that shoar, and West part of Denmark, to the Western Gallia all along the other side. 44. There are who put some stress here upon ancient Inscriptions, especially that mentioned by Gruter of a prsefect of a British fleet ; and on the ornaments and ensigns of dominion found in several medals and antiquities to be met withal In the collections of learned men ; * De Bello Gall. lib. 4. f Tacit, in Vit. Agric. ; Notitia Imp. Occid. 671 vindicating the peculiar we contend for, and continu'd from Edward the Third In several fair stamps, nor are they to be rejected. It suffices us, that whatever the government were, still the dominion of the sea return'd with that of the land to the nation * ; as when the Britains rejected the Roman yoak, which now extended when it came under the power of the English Saxon Kings and Danes, is known to all the world, as well as with what mighty navies Edgar, Canute, and others, asserted and protected it, under no lower style than that of King, Supreme Lord and Governour of the Ocean lying round about Britain ; for so runs the settlement of certain revenues given by King Edgar to the Cathedral of Worcester, says Mr. Selden. 45. Since the Norman conquest, the government of the several provinces or sheriffs exercised jurisdiction on the sea as far as their countys extended. Henry the Third constituted captain guardians, and our first Edward distributed this guard to three admirals ; so did the second of that name ; and the form of our ancient commissions to the several admiralties, mention the dominion of our Kings upon the sea, nor did any other nation whatsoever contest it as having little or nothing on the opposite shoars ; whilst 'tis evident the English Mo- narchs possess'd their right in its intire latitude for more than a thou- sand years under one intire empire, and an uninterrupted enjoyment of the sea as an appendant. 46. To this we might add the pass-ports sued for by forrelgners from the reign of Henry the Fourth, and so down to Queen Elizabeth, who during her war with Spain sometimes gave leave to the Swedes, Danes, and Anslatlc Towns, and sometimes prohibited them petitioning for passes to sail through her seas ; nay more, she caus'd to be taken and brought into her harbours laden ships of those nations transgressing her orders, as far as the streights of Lisbon, which she could never have justlfy'd had she not been acknowledged Sovereign of the seas through which they were to pass. And though her successor King James appointed certain limits on the English coast by Imaginary lines drawn from point to point round the island. In which he some- * Zosiinus, lib. '6. Vide Cliiutliani de Laudibus Stilichonis, lib. '2. 672 times extended them far into the sea ; it was not to circumscribe a jurisdiction (a thing which he most industriously caution'd his Minis- ters never to yield * so much as in discourse) beyond which he did not pretend, but in relation only to acts of hostility between the two great antagonists, the Spaniard and the Hollander, declaring himself both Lord and Moderator of the British seas from his royal predecessors. 47. In several commissions f given to sea commanders by Edward the Third, the words are, " Our progenitors the Kings of England have before these times been lords of the British seas on every side ;" and in a certain bill prefer'd in Parliament J to the same Prince, 'tis said that the English were ever in the ages past so renown'd for navies and sea affairs, that the countries about them usually esteem'd and call'd them Soveraio-ns of the sea ; and from the same parliamentary testimony in the reign of Henry the Fifth we learn that the Estates in that august assembly, did with one consent affirm it as a thing unquestionable that the Kings of England were lords of the sea §, and that that sea was all which flow'd between the stream on both sides, and made no doubt but a tribute might be impos'd by authority of parliament upon all stran- gers passing through them, as we shall find Richard the Second to have done long before. 48. In the reign of Edward the Second ||, Robert Earl of Flanders, complaining of injuries done his subjects at sea, alledges that the King of England is bound in right to do him justice, for that he was Lord of the sea. But there cannot in the world he a more pregnant instance for the vindication of this dominion, and the silencing all objections, than the famous complaint against the Genoeze Grimbaldi, who, during the war between the French and those of Flanders, infesting the seas and disturbing Commerce, occasion'd all the nations of Europe border- ing on the sea, to have recourse and appeal to the kings of England ; whom from time to time and by right immemorial they acknowledged to be in peaceable possession of the sovereign lordship and dominion of the seas of England, and islands of the same ; this libel or complaint * Rot. Pat. '2 Jac. pari 32. t Ro'* Scot. 10 Ed. Meinbran. 16. ♦ Kot. P.it. 46 Ed. 111. n. 2. § Rot. Pat. 8 Hen. V. Mem. 3. Art. G. II Rot. P.it. 14 Edw. II. p. '2. ni. 26. in doiso. 673 was exhibited in the time of Edward the First, almost three hundred years since, and is still extant in the archives of the Tower. 49. And thus we have seen how the sea is not only a distinct pro- vince, capable of propriety, limits, and other just circumstances of peculiar dominion, as a bound, not bounding his Majesties empire, but as bounded by it in another respect ; and that this was never violated so much as by syllogism 'till some mercenary pens were set on work against Spain, through whose tender sides, at that time, and with great arti- fice, the Barnevelt faction endeavour'd to transfix us*. Soon it was per- ceiv'd, and as soon encounter'd ; in the mean time that one would smile to find their mighty champion then fairly acknowledge upon another oc- casion, and when it seems he resolv'd to speak out, — Anglice Regina oceani imperium^, that the Queen of England was dominatrix of the sea. So great is the truth, and will prevail. In a word, if the premier occupant be a legal and just plea to the right of other possessions, the Kings and Queens of England, descending from or succeeding to them who first asserted the title are still invested with it : sure we are, this argument was held good and illustrated by the first and best foundation of empire, when the state of Venice (claiming the Adriatic by no other) held that famous controversie with Ferdinand of Friuli, by their advo- cate Rapicio and Chizzola, commissioners being mutually chosen to de- termine it ; and how far antiquity is on our side, the Greeks, Romans, Tyrians, Phoenicians, and others, have abundantly declar'd, and with what caution they interdicted strangers here with us, till the Claudian expedition annex'd it, with the dominion of all Britain, to that glorious empire, which to protect against the piratical Saxons (then not seldom infesting our coasts) the comites maritimi trackis were by the Praefect establish'd, as we have already shew'd ; and so it continu'd for near five hundred years after, when the Saxons, taking greater advantage of the Roman remissness (distracted as they grew by intestine troubles), made their descent upon us, and with the fortune of conquest carried that likewise of the sea. 50. We have but mention'd King Edgar, whose survey is so famous * 1509, Treaty with Spain, concerning trade to the Indies. f 1570. Grot. Annal. lib. "2. 4 R 674 in story, when with more than four thousand vessels he destln'd a qua- ternion to every sea, which annually circl'd this Isle, and, as a monu- ment of their suhmission, was sometime row'd in his royal gaily by the hands of eight kings. This signal action becoming the reverse of a medail, was by a like device illustrated in the rose-noble, in which we have represented the figure of a king invested with his regalia, standing in the middle of a ship, as in his proper and most resplendent throne ; for the same reason likewise (as some interpret) did Henry the Eight add the pottcluse to his current money, as a character of his peculiar title to this dition, exclusive to all others, 51. We have spoken of the Danes and Normans, and their successive claim, and of the ciistodes maritimi, more antient than that of Admiral, as now constituted, which indeed began with the Edwards, when the French, at war with Flanders, but pretending to usurp that dignity, were fain to abolish their new office, and, acknowledging they had no right, pay the damages of the depredations they made, as appears by that famous record in the Tower mention'd by Sir John Burroughs, in which the title of our Kings is asserted from immemorial prescription; nay, when at this time he had not all the opposite shoar to friend. 52. The constitution of our Cinque-Ports give another noble testi- mony to this claim, and the addition of two more Admirals by our Third Edward, guarding as many seas as there were superiour officers of this denomination, not omitting the title of Lords of both Shoars, anciently us'd from hence to Henry the Fifth ; nay, when Edward renounc'd his claim to Normandy (as at the treaty of Charters *), the French them- selves acknowledg'd this right, and therefore neither here, nor at the Court of Delegates in France, did they claim any pretence to the Islands or interfluent seas. But what need we a more pregnant instance than that universal deference to the laws of Oleron (an island of Aquitania then belonging to this Crown), published after the Rhodan had been long antiquated, which obtain'd over all the Christian world. And to this we might add the Dane-gelt (in plain English, a ship-money tax), impos'd as well on strangers as denisons that practic'd commerce upon * 1106. 675 our coasts and seas East and North, where the great intercursus was ; nor expir'd It here, but continu'd customary, as appears by innumerable records for enabling the King to protect tiie seas, and to obstruct or open them as he saw convenient, with title to all royal fishes, wracks, and goods found floating in alto-mari, as we can prove by several com- missions and instruments, and confirm by precedents, not of our muni- cipal constitutions alone, but such as have been binding, and accepted for such, of the nations about us ; witness that famous accord made between our Edward the First and the French King, Philip the Fair, calling him to account for the piracies we have mentlon'd. And, 53. To this we might produce the spontaneous submission of the Fle- mings in open Parliament, in Edward the Second's reign, and the honour, or rather duty of the flag, which King John, with his Peers, had many ages since challeng'd upon the custom ordain'd at Hastings*, decreed to take place universally, not barely as a civility, but as a right of import- ance for the making out and confirmation of our title to the dominion we have been vindicating ; and that this has been claim'd and paid cum dehitd reverentid (to use the express words of those old commissions which had been long since given by William and Maurice Princes of Orange) to all the sea commanders in those days, we have for almost this whole later century seen the matter of fact testified not only by continual claims, orders, commissions, and instructions, but by searching divers authentick journals, which have noted the particulars in a thousand instances : nor has this been paid to whole fleets only, bearing the royal pavlllion, but to single vessels, and those of the smaller craft (as they are stil'd) wearing his Majesties cognizance, to whom this homage has been done, even by the greatest navies, meeting them in any of the Bri- tish seas in their utmost latitudes. Nor has this been so much as ques- tion'd (I672), till that arch rebel, for ends of his own, would once have be- tray'd itf, and that the late demagogue De Witt, with no lessinsolenc, would have perverted his countrymen, by entring into an injurious dis- quisition in justification of the wrong he would have made us swallow; * 1'200. MS. Commen. de Rebus Admir. fol. 2S. t Oliver Cromwell. See his letter to the Ambassador at London. 6:^6 but his Majesty was not so to be hector'd out of his right, as appears by the honourable provision he has made to secure it, in the late treaty with the Dutch, and what all the world has paid us, which puts it out of dispute. In the mean time it was necessary, and no way improper to the scope of this Treatise, that after what has been so newly pre- tended, to the prejudice of the title we have asserted, some thing should be said to abate the confidence of impertinent men, and to let the world know that our Princes (to whom God and Nature has imparted such prerogatives) will not be baffl'd out of them by the sentences and sophisms of lawyers, much less by sycophants, and such as carry not the least sha- dow of reason. But it Mould fill many volumes to exemplifie the forms of our ancient commissions, from time to time, investing our Admirals with the exercise of this soveraign power ; as well as that of safe con- ducts, writts of seizure and arrests, the copies of grants and permission to fish (of which in the next period) obtain'd of our Kings by petition, &c. to be found at large in our books. Parliament Rolls, and other au- thentick pieces too long for this tract : but, if any will be contentious, because they are some of them of ancient date, we have, and shall yet shew instances sufficient, and ex ahundanti, for this last age, to which our antagonists have from time to time submitted, not only in the wide and ample sea, or at our own coasts, but in the very ports and harbours of strangers, where they looked for protection ; that all the woi"ld may blush at the weak and unreasonable contentions which would invalidate this claim, if at least there be in the world any such thing as right, pre- scription, deference, or other evidence, which, amongst sober men, is agreed to be law for the clearing of a title. To sum up all, then, if right or prescription, succession of inheritance, continual claim, matter of fact, consent of history, and confessions even from the mouths and pens of adversaries, be of any moment to the gaining of a cause, we may bespeak our nation, as he did King James upon another occasion, and as justly transfer it to his glorious successor, — Quels dat jura mari, 6fc. * And with this I should conclude, did not the fishery, which is an- Grot. Sylva, 1. '3. ^11 other irrefragable proof of his Majesties dominions, require a Httle survey before we shut up this discourse. 54. How far this royal jurisdiction has extended may best be gather'd out of the reverend Camden, speaking of King James the Sixth of Scot- land, and of Queen Elizabeth of England *, who, first discovering the whale-fishing, had consequently title to those seas, as far as Green-land Northward; and what it was to the South the proclamation of our Third Edward (yet extant) abundantly makes appear. This, confirm'd by the Fourth of that name, guards and convoys were appointed to pre- serve the rights inviolable ; as was likewise continued by the three suc- ceeding Henrys, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh, and their descendents, who impos'd a certain tribute upon all forreiners, in recognition of their in- dulgence to them j-. Witness the French, the Dukes of Britain, of Burgundy (especially Philip), and those of Flanders, who never pre- sum'd to cast a net without permission, and a formal instrument first obtained, the originals whereof are yet to be seen, and may be collected out of both the French and Burgundian stories ; and, as it doth indeed to this day appear, by his Majesties neighbourly civility, granted to the French King for the provision of his own table, and to the town of Bruges in Flanders, by a late concession \, the number and size of boats and other circumstances being limited, upon transgression whereof the oflFenders have been imprison'd, and otherwise mulcted. 55. And as the French, so the Spaniards did always sue to our Princes for the like prlvlledge and kindness. King Phillip the Second (as nearly related as he was to Queen Mary his wife), finding a proviso in an act of Parliament §, that no forreiner should fish in those seas without per- mission, paid into the Exchequer no less than an annual rent of one thousand pounds, for leave to fish upon the North of Ireland for the supply of his dominions in Flanders. Now for the Dutch. 56. That famous record 'pro hominihus Hollandice (so the title runs) points to us as far as our First Edward ||, not only how obsequious then they were in acknowledging the King's dominion on the sea, but his * Annales Reruni Ang. regnante Eliz. et Britannia. t 1489. + Rot. Franc. 38 Memb. 9 et 14 Hen. VI. § Stat. Hib. Ed. IV. cap. 6.— 1 Jacob, Proclam. G Mar. || 1995. 67^ protection and permission to fish on the environs of it *: and his suc- cessor, Edward the Third, as he gave leave to the Counts of Holland Avho always petition'd for it), so he prescrihed laws and orders concerning the hurden of the vessels to be employ'd about it. The like did Henry the Sixth to the French and others f , with the season, place, and method to be observ'd, which are all of main importance in the cause: and this was so religiously inspected in former times, that Edward the Fourth constituted a triumvirat power to guard both the seas and the fishery against all pretenders whatsoever, as had Richard the Second long be- fore him, who impos'd a tribute on every individual ship that pass'd through the Northern Admiralty, for the maintenance of that sea-guard, amounting to six-pence a tun upon every fishing vessel weekly, as ap- pears by a most authentick record, and the opinion of the most eminent iudo-es at that early day ; who, upon consideration that none but a sove- reio-n power could impose such a payment, gave it in as their opinion that this right and dominion was a branch of the royal patrimony, and inseparable. Nay, that wise Prince, Henry the Seventh, thought it so infinitely considerable, that (upon deeply weighing the great advan- tages) he was setting up a trade, or staple offish, in preference (say some) to that of wool itself, and all other commerce of his dominions ; which being long before the Low-Countries had a name for merchants, they had still perhaps neglected, if some renegados of our own (Violet and Stephens by name) had not encourag'd the Dutch of Enchusen (with other tnal-contented persons of the craft, deserting their country and their loyalty,) to molest his Majesties streams upon the accompt of these men, since which tliey and others have continu'd their presump- tions even to insolence. 57. Neither was less the care of King James J to vindicate this in- comparable prerogative than any of his predecessors §, who, having de- riv'd that accession of the Shetland Islands by marriage with a daugh- ter of Denmark II, publish'd his proclamations immediately after his coming into England : for it must be acknowledg'd that Queen Eliza- * Rot. Pat. 23 Ed. I. memb. 5. f Ro'- P^*- 22 Ed. IV. mera. 2. + 1606. § 145S. II 1C09. 679 beth did not so nicely and warily look after this jealous article as had been wish'd, diverted by her extraordinary pity and abundant indulgence to the distressed States. But this Prince roundly asserts his patrimony, upon many prudent reasons of state*, and especially for encouragement of the maritime towns, fallen much to decay, and plainly succumbing under the injurious dealing of such as took the fish from before their dores, and renew'd his commands, that none should for the future pre- sume so much as to hover about, much less abide on our coasts, without permission first obtaln'd under the Great Seal of England, and upon which the Hollanders petltion'd for leave, and acknowledg'd the limits appointed them as formerly they had done. Let us hear the historian describe it, and blush. " The Hollanders (says he-|-) taking infinite plenty of herring upon this coast, and thereby making a most gainful trade, were first to procure leave (by antlent custom) out of Scarborow-Castle, for the English to permit them to fish ; reserving indeed the honour to themselves, but re- signing the benefit to strangers, to their incredible inrichlng, &c." What could be said more to our purpose, or to our reproach ? This was that which King James endeavour'd to bring into a better method, when, taking notice of the daily Incroachment of our neighbours, he enjoyn'd his ambassador (who was then Sir Dudley Carleton ;{;) to expostulate it with the States, as may be seen in that sharp letter of Mr. Secretaries, dated the twenty-first of December 1618, in which he tells them, "That unless they sought leave from his Majesty, and acknowledg his right, as other Princes had done and did, it might well come to pass, that they who would needs bear all the world before them by their mare liberum, might soon endanger their having neither terrnm, nee solum, nee remjniblicam libej^am." I do only recite the passage as I find it publlsh'd, and take notice how prophetlck it had lately like to have been. 58. This happy Prince, taking umbrage at the war between the Hollander and the Spaniard, did fix limits by commission and survey, nearer than which (though as moderator he oflfer'd equal protection to * See copy of a Ittter in Sir Hobeit Cotton's library, and the credentials given to Sir Henrv Wotton. t Camden's Britannia. J 1618. 680 both) no enemy to another state might commit any hostile act*, and producing his reasons for it, asserted his right so to do ; not as if those boundaries circumscrih'd his dominions, but as being sufficient for the vindication of his due in that great article. And their not observing this, incited King Charles the First, of blessed memory, to animadvert upon it, when in the year 1639 our good friends behaved themselves with so little respect In that memorable conflict with the Spaniard ; and when approaching too near our shoars, they were check'd for their irre- verence in his Majesties imperial chambers, indeed, for the first (but seeming) alfront, that this nation did ever receive upon it. 59. And now it will not be amiss, nor inconsistent with our title, to let the world see the immense advantages of the trade which has been driven upon the sole account of the fishery, by the prodigious emolu- ment which it has (to our cost and reproach) afforded our more indus- trious neighbours, the foundation of whose greatness has been laid in the bottom of our seas, which has yielded them more treasure than the mines of Potosl, or both Indies to Spain. Who would believe that this people raise yearly by the herring and other fisheries a million of pounds sterling, and that Holland and Zea- land alone (whose utmost verge doth hardly exceed many English shires) should from a few despicable boats be able to set forth above twenty thosand vessels of all sorts, fit for the rude seas, and of which more than /OOO are yearly employ'd upon this occasion ? 'Tls evident that by this particular trade they are able to breed above fourty thousand fisher-men, and one hundred and sixteen thousand mariners (as the cen- sus has been accurately calculated), and the gain of it is so universal, that thei'e's hardly a beggar, nor an hand in their country which doth not earn Its bread. This is literally true, and the consideration of it seem'd so important, that even in the days of Charles the Fifth, that great monarch is reported to have sometimes visited the tomb of Buec- keld (where he had been above two hundred years Interr'd) in solemn recognition of his merit, for having, as 'tis said, been the inventor of pickling and curing herrings : in a word, so immense is the advantage * Seldenus, 1. 2. c. 22. f KJSO. 681 which this article alone brings the state, that a verv favourable rent, still in arrear to his Majesties Exchequer, for permission to fish (as should be prescribed and appointed them), amounts to more than half a million of pounds, and the custom only at home of what they take, with the tenth fish for waftage, to near five hundred thousand pounds more; but the quantities which they sell abroad, to a sum almost not to be reckon'd. Then, let it be computed, the hands employ'd for spinning of yarn, weaving of nets, and making other necessaries for the salting, curing, packing, and barrelling, building of vessels, and fitting them out to sea : it is certain the shipping (which is more than all Europe can assemble besides), sea-men, commerce, towns, harbours, power, publick-vvealth, and affluence of all other things, is sprung from this source ; and that in barter for fish (without exportation of coin) they receive from Spain, Italy, Germany, &c. oil, wine, fruit, corn, honey, wax, allum, salt, wool, flax, hemp, pitch, tarr, sope-ashes, iron, copper, steel, claw-boards, timber, masts, dollars, armour, glass, mill-stones, plate, tapestry, munition, and all things that a country (which has no one material of these of proper growth) can need to render it consum- mately happy. The Indies and farthest regions of the earth participate of this industry ; and, to our shame be it spoken, we blush not to buy our own fish of them, and purchase that of strangers which God and Nature has made our own, inrlching others to our destruction by a detestable sloath ; whilst to encourage us we have timber, victuals, havens, men, and all that at our dores which these people adventure for in remoter seas, and at excessive charges. And thus the prize is put into our hands, whilst we have not the hearts to use it ; nor do we produce anv reasons why we are thus unconcern'd, that ever I could find were solid * : some objections, Indeed, are presented, but they appear'd to me so dilute and insignificant, that 'tis not possible to compose one's indignation at the hearing of them, and see a kingdom growing every day thinner of people, and fuller of indigence, without some extraordinary emotion : to see with what numerous and insulting fleets our neighbours have * See Roger L'Estrange's late Discourse of the Fishery, 4to, 1674, and 8vo, 1695. 4s 682 been often jirepar'd to dispute our title to these advantages, by the bene- fit and supply of that which we neglect and condemn as unpractlcable. If this he not enough to raise In us some worthy resentments, let the confession of the Dutch themselves incite us to It, who (In a proclama- tion puhllsh'd near fifty years since*) have stll'd their fishing trade the golden mines of their provinces, and stimulated an industrious and emu- lous people with all the topicks of encouragement. Were this alone well consider'd and briskly pursu'd, there would need no great maglck to reduce our bold supplanters to a more neighbourly temper : the sub- jects of this nation have no more to do than apply themselves to the fishery to recover at once their losses, and as infallibly advance the pros- perity of the kingdom as 'tis evident it has enabled our late antagonists to humble Spain, and from little of themselves, to grapple with the most puissant monarch of Europe, and bring him to the ground. For my part, I do not see how we can be able to answer this prodigious sloath of ours any longer, and especially since 'tis evident It will cost us but a laudable Industry, and (in regard of our situation and very many advan- tages above them) much less trouble and charge : or suppose a consi- derable part of our forreln less-needful expences were diverted to this work, what were the disadvantages .^ We talk much of France (and perhaps with reason) ; but are we so safe from our dear friend, upon this composure, as never to apprehend any future unklndness ? For my own part, I wish it with my soul : but of this I am sure, we may prevent or encounter open defiance ; but whilst we are thus undermln'd, we suflfer a continual hostility, since the effects of it rulne our commerce, and by consequence the nation. Nor speak I here of our neighbours the Hol- landers only, but of those of Hamborough, Lubec, Embden, and other interlopers, who grow exceedingly opulent whilst we sit still and pe- rish, whose advantages for takmg, curing, uttering, and employing of hands (were the expedients mentlon'd put In practice, or the ruinous numl)ers of our men dally flocking to the American plantations, and from whence so few return, prudently stated, and acts of naturalization promoted,) are so infinitely superlour to theirs ; but so our cursed neg- * 1624. 683 Hgence will yet have it, not for want of all royal encouragement, but a fatality plainly insuperable, 60. We have said little vet of our American fishery, and the loss we make of a vast treasure on the coasts of Virginia, Green-land, Barrau- das, &c. sacrificing infinite wealth, both at home and abroad, to the Spaniards, French, those of Portugal, and Biscay. 'Tis well known that Green-land was first detected by the English about the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, and afterwards the royal standard erected there, in token of dominion, by the name of King James's New-land, his Majesty asserting his just rights by many acts of state, as more par- ticularly on the tenth of January 1613, when he signified his pleasure by Sir Noel Caroon, then in Holland, in vindication of his title both to the Island fishery, and all other emoluments whatsoever y^^e dominii, as first discoverer, and to prohibite strangers interposing and fishing in his seas without permission *. For this effect, commissioners were esta- blish'df at London to grant licences, yearly renewable, for such as would fish on the English coast ; at Edenbrough on the Northern, and by proclamation J interdicting all un-licenced practices, the Duke of Lennox (as Admiral of Scotland) being order'd to assert the right of the assize-herrino;, which was paid. 61. The following years § what interruptions happen'd, upon our neighbours desires of coming to an adjustment for the indulgences they had found, is universally known, 'till the year 1635, when, to prevent some incroachments and disorders of those who fished under his protec- tion, the late King Charles of blessed memory issu'd out his proclama- tions, and gave instructions to his ministers abroad ||, signifying that no strangers should presume to fish in the British seas without his Majes- ties licence ; and that those who desired them might be protected, he thought fit to equip and set forth such a fleet as became his care and vigilancy for the good and safety of his people, and the honour of the nation. This was the year and the occasion of building several consi- derable ships, and, amongst others, that famous vessel the Royal Sove- * 1608. t 1609. X 16J6. (J I6I7. 11 See Mr. Secretary Cook's letter, .^pril IC, 1G35, to his Majesty's Resident at the Hague. 684 ralgn, which to this day bears our triumphant Edgar for Its badge and cognizance, and to mind the world of his undoubted right to the domi- nion of the seas, which he had by this time asserted and secur'd beyond danger of dispute, had not a deluded people (as to their own highest concern, glory, and interest,) and the fatality of the times disturb'd the project of an easle tax as an imaginary invasion of their liberties, which that blessed Prince deslgn'd only to protect them : it is fresh in memory what were the opinions of Attourny Noy, many learned civilians, and near a jury of grave Judges upon this conjuncture ; and the instances of King Etheldreds having levy'd it many hundred years before, shew'd it to be no such innovation ; nor could there be a more pressing occasion than when all our neighbours around us were (as now) in a state of hos- tility. But I list not here to interrupt my reader upon this chapter, which has already suffer'd so many sore dlgladlations and contests ; only as to matter of fact, and as concern'd the navigation and improvement of commei'ce, I touch it briefly, and pass to what followed, which was the setting out no less than sixty tall ships, first under the Earl of Lind- sey *, and afterwards Northumberland f, by the account of whose accu- rate journal, it appears how readily our neighbour fishermen (though under convoy of fleets superlour to ours In number) sued for and took licences to the value of fifteen hundred pounds fifteen shillings and two pence, as I have perus'd the particulars. I do only mention the licences which were also taken and accepted at land, and they not a few, distributed by Sir William Boswell at the Hague Itself, upon which his Majesties Minister then at Bruxelles advertis'd the Infanta, that the Dunkerkers should take care not to molest such of the Hollanders (though at that time in actual hostility with them) as had his Majesties permission, and accordingly the Cardinal did grant them passes, which they took without scruple ; so as we find it was not for nothing that they came under protection, but recelv'd a real benefit.' Nor was this a novel imposition, but familiar and customary, as appears by the many precedents which we have recited ; to which we may add that of the Scotch fishery under King James the First, 1424, 21 Act of the first • 1635. t 1636. 685 Parliament, having already spoken of what concern'd our own Princes, especially what Richard the Second Impos'd, Henry I. V. VI. VII. Queen Mary, &c. with that of Edward the First pro hominibus Hol- landice, &c. which protection is yet extant, and granted frequently by treaties, as a priviledg only during the subslstance of such treaties, and no farther, totally rescinding and abolishing the pretences grounded by some upon the intercursics magnus made with the Dukes of Bur- gundy*: so as to summ up all that has been produc'd to fortifie our do- mestlck evidences, we have many Acts of Parliament, we have the seve- ral successours of our Princes granting licences to strangers, we have the assiduous instances made by King James by his Ambassadours and Secretaries of State, we have the acknowledgments actually and already paid and accounted for to the Exchequer, and have seen the occasion of ihe late interruptions of it, and the Invalidity of mens pretences; and if these be not evidences sufficient to subvert the sophisms of a few merce- nary pens, and dismount the confidence of unreasonable people, it is because there Is so little vigour in our resolutions at home, and so little justice in the world abroad. Nor has this been arrogated by the mo- narchs of this nation, but a right establish'd upon just reason, namely, that they might be enabled to clear the seas of rovers and pirates, and protect such as follow'd their lawful affairs : and for this effect the Kings of England did not only take care to defend their own subjects, but to convov and secure all strangers, sometimes (as we have seen) by pro- clamation, sometimes by fleets and men of war, where they fish'd by agreement, upon treaty, or leave obtain'd, yet restraining them to cer- tain limits, retaining the dominion of the neighbouring seas, as in the reign of Henry the Fourth, where we find an accord made between him and the French Kingf, that the subjects of either nation might fish in one part of the seas and not in another ; the possession of all privileges of this nature ever accompanying the royal licence, and strangers having either special indulgences, or being under protection of special officers appointed in former times [j; for the safe guarding of the fishery, who were so impower'd by patent, and had certain dues appointed for that * 1495. t Rot. Fra. Hen. IV. 29. % Edw. IV. Rich. III. Hen. VII. 686 attendance, which they levied upon all forreiners, with the express di- rection (in the reign of Henry the Seventh) that the acknowledgment was to be so levied, notwlthstandir)g- any letter of safe-conduct which stranger fishermen might pretend from any king, prince, or government whatsoever: so as by all the arguments of right, claim, and prescrip- tion, the title is firm ; all other pretences of right or possession Inter- rupted, arrogated, and precarious, or else extingulsh'd by infractions of treaties, never since reviv'd by any subsequent act. 62. We might here mention the toll paid the King of Denmark at the Sundt, and the respect which strangers shew to his castle at Cron- nenberg, according to a treaty made between them and the Dutch * ; and to the Swedish King, whom they acknowledg sovereign of the Baltlck and Northern tracts to an immense extent, where he receives tribute, as well as those of Denmark and Poland, by impositions at Dantzick and the Pillau, where they only enjoy for It a cold and hungry passage, whilst with us we give them not only passage, harbours and protection through a dangerous sea, but an emohiment accompanying it, which inrlches our neighbours with one of the most inestimable treasures and advantagious commerce under heaven. To this we also might add what has obtain'd the suflFrages not only of our own countrymen of the long robe, and others, but of almost all the disinterested learned persons who have discuss'd this subject, universally agreeing, that as to a peculiar and restrictive right, fisheries may and ought to be appropriated, and that as well In the high-seas (as the lawyers term them) as In lakes and rivers, and narrower confinements, and as the Republick of Genoa does at this day let to farm their fishery for Thunnies in their neighbouring seas ; and the contract between Queen Elizabeth and Denmark about the like liberty upon the coast of Norway, and the prohibitions made, and the licences given by that crown at this present, do abundantly evince, namely, that the Dane is, and hath of long time been in possession upon the coasts we have mcntlon'd, and of as much as we assert to be due to his Majesty In the British seas. * i(;49. 687 MR. EVELYN'S LETTER TO MR. AUBREY*. Sir, With incredible satisfaction I have perus'd your Natural History of Surrey, &c. and greatly admire both your industry in undertaking so profitable a work, and your judgment in the several observations which you have made. It is so useful a piece, and so obliging, that 1 cannot sufficiently applaud it. Something I would contribute to it if it were possible ; but your Spicelegium is so accurate, that you have left no- thing almost for those who shall come after you. Surrey is the country of my birth, and my delight ; but my education has been so little in it, by reason of several accidents, that I am asham'd to discover how ignorant I am of a thousand of those excellent remarks which I find you have taken notice of to my reproach. You have been pleas'd to mention Wotton (the seat of my brother), inviron'd as it is with wood (from whence it takes Its denomination) and water, and that from different sources, capable of furnishing all the amoenltles of a villa and garden after the Italian manner, as running fifty foot higher than the area of the first parterre. That which I would observe to you from the wood is, that where goodly oaks grew and were cut down by my grand-father almost a hundred years since, are now altogether beech ; and where my brother has extirpated the beech there rises birch : under the beech spring up innumerable hollies, wiiich, growing thick and close together in one of the woods next the meadow, is a viretum all the year long, which is a very beautiful sight when the leaves of the taller trees are fallen. It is in my Sylva where I give the dimensions of a plank of prodi- gious amplitude, cut from an oak growing in one of the parks there about or near that house, which holds almost six foot in breadth, and about ten in length, half a foot in thickness, as it remains supported on a frame of brick-work f . There are in the skirts of this parish (which * Extracted from his History of Surrey, 1719, 8vo. vol. I. t Tlie table to which Evelyn alludes is still preserved in the family house at Wot(on ; it is shortened in its length, and but 5 feet 2 inches in diameter. 688 extends almost as far as the wild of Sussex) certain pits out of which they dig jeate. The stone ahout the grounds in other parts is the rag, and what you call iron-stone, of which there lies abundance loose in the sands, and about certain sugar-loaf mountains South-west of Wotton ; which, with the boscage upon them, and little torrents between, make such a solitude as I have never seen any place more horridly agreeable and romantick. In the church-yard at Wotton, digging to enlarge the vault where our family lies interr'd, was found an entire skeleton of gigantic stature ; it is not yet twenty years since ; but after the workmen and labourers had done wondering at it, and taken measure of divers of the bones, &c. (^which tho' 1 have not at present, I can recover from an ingenious servant of my brothers) with- out farther curiosity they flung into the foundation they were digging, and superstructed upon them. In this parish upon White-down, (which is contiguous to that tract of hills which runs from Darking towards Guildford, and so to Ports- mouth,) in the Chalk-delves is frequently found cockle-shells, peri- winkles, &c. and in the cart-roats where the rains have guH'd, that kind of pyrites which the country- people call thunder-stones. It is incredible what goodly beeches grow upon that hill, expos'd as they are to the most impetuous winds, and with a verv little earth, and that extreamly loose adhering to their roots. From hence is one of the largest prospects in England; but superior to this is another about two miles South of my brothers house *, from the summit whereof in a clear day may be seen (besides the whole vale or wild of Sussex, and much of Kent) part of eleven other shires ; so as for the extent and circum- ference of Vista, I take it to be much beyond that from the Keepe at Windsor, or any that I have ever observ'd either in England or else- where. The ascent to it is yet northward, almost upon an even line from the foot of White-downe. Tiie brow from whence this prospect is beheld with little acclivity (caused by the sliding some parts of it into the grounds below, cither by its own weight or some earthquake,) goes descending nine or ten miles, almost as far as Horseham in * Leith H 11, the liigl:est giound in this county. 689 Sussex ; and the bare places from whence the earth is shd, I have seen as far as Lewes, thirty miles from it. Somewhat below this rising is the famous Roman way, call'd now Stone-street Causeway, which had been very well worth your takino- notice of, both for the length, breadth, and materials of it, to have continu'd so firm in so rotten and deep a country for so many years ; but it is now interrupted by divers inclosures which would be search'd by some diligent person. Not far from my brothers house, upon the streams and ponds since fill'd up and drain'd, stood formerly many , powder-mills, erected by my ancestors, who were the very first who brought that invention into England ; before which we had all our powder out of Flanders. My grand-father transffrr'd his patent to the late Sir John Evelyns grand-father, of Godstone in the same county ; in whose family it continu'd 'till the late Civil Wars. That winch I would remark upon this occasion is, the breaking of a huge beam of fifteen or sixteen inches diameter in my brothers house (and since crampt with a dog of iron) ; upon the blowing up of one of those mills, without doing any other mischief that I can learn ; but another standing below towards Shire, shot a piece of timber thro' a cottage, which took off a poor womans head as she was spinning. The barren hills formerly cover'd with a fine carpet of turf have within these forty years been exceedingly improv'd by Devonshiring, as we call it, that is by paring off, drying, burning, and spreading the swarth. Formerly they were full of sheep feeding among the wild thyme ; now they are sown with corn, and maintain'd in heart with liming and other manuring. The mutton is small, but very sweet. Wheat-ears do often frequent these downs. In this parish were set up the first brass-mills for the casting, ham- mering into plates, cutting, and drawing it into wire, that were in England : first they drew the wyre by men sitting harness'd in certain swings, taking hold of the brass thongs fitted to the holes, with pincers fasten'd to a girdle which went about them ; and then with stretching forth their feet against a stump, they shot their bodies from it, closing with the plate again ; but afterwards this was quite left off, and the effect performed f)y an Ingenio brought out of Sweden ; which I sup- 4 T 690 pose they still continue : but the mills are remov'd to farther distance from my brothers house. There was likewise a fulling-mill upon the same stream, now de- molished ; but the hammer for iron remains. These I mention because I do not remember to have seen such variety of mills and works upon so narrow a brook, and in so little a compass ; there being mills for corn, cloth, brass, iron, powder, &c. These streams are naturally full of trouts, but they grow to no bigness, by reason of the frequent draining of the waters to irrigate their lands. You well observe the number of ponds and little lakes in this coun- try : one of my brothers (now deceas'd) had at a place call'd Baynards, within his park, a pond of sixty acres. The house was honourably built by Sir George Moore, many years past Lieutenant of the Tower. The soil is so addicted to oaks, that to tell of their prodigious growth within fifty years would astonish those who should measure the timber now growing. It is a sour loamy ground. 1 do not find you have yet made your thorough journey about Ban- stead, where was the famous Woodcot of which you shall find mention in Mr. Burtons notes upon Antoninus's Itinerary. There are to this day Roman coins, urns and bricks, &c. dug up by the rusticks. At Ashted near Ebisham (belonging to the Right Honourable the Earl Marshal) are found a certain huge and fleshy snail, which the Italians call bavoli or drivelers brought out of Italy, propagated here, and had in delicils by his grand-father Thomas Earl of Arundel, &c. In the sandy banks about Albury do breed the trogladytlc martines, who make their boroughs in the earth. I know not whether you took notice of the smoke-iack in mv brothers kitchen-chimney, which has been there I have heard near a hundred years, and has seldom stood still from its first setting up, night or day ; it makes very little noise, needs no winding up, and for that preferable to the more noisy, inventions. I am told Mr. Smith of Mlchams spits are turn'd by the water, which indeed runs thro' his house. It is indeed the most cbrystal stream we have in our country, and comes by Bedington, which I do not find you have yet visited, no more 691 than Wimbleton, Nonsuch, Richmond, Oatlands, Coomb, Roehampton, Cammerwell, Lambeth, Battersey, Kingston, Dltton, Southwark, and divers other observable places, which I doubt not but you reserve for another perambulation *. Sir, I beseech you to accept or pardon these trifling Interpolations, which I have presum'd to send you ; not that they can add any thing to your work, but testify the disposition I have to serve you, if It lay in the power of, Sir, Your most faithful Servant, Feb. 8. 1675-6. J. Evelyn. Sir, My hasty writing will require your pardon ; I have set things down tumultuarily as they came into my sudden thoughts. * Mr. Aubrey afterwards visited these places, anno 1692. 692 AN ABSTRACT OF A LETTER FROM THE WORSHIPFUL JOHN EVELYN, Esq. SENT TO ONE OF THE SECRETARIES OF THE R. SOCIETY CONCERNING THE DAMMAGE DONE TO HIS GARDENS BY THE PRECEDING WINTER *. Sir, I SHOULD be altogether inexcusable for not having been to wait upon the Society of late if my health had permitted, with some other unex- pected occasions, before I remov'd from Lond. which I could not de- cently avoid. This was, I assure you, a sensible affliction to me ; ahd now I am come into the country, have beheld the havock which a rude season has made in my poor gardens, and receiv'd your letter, wherein you acquaint me that the Society expects an account of my sufferings. I must begin with the Poet — -juhes renovare dolorem: in a word, the past winter has been so severe in my territories, and where it could ex- pugne the more defensible, and such as were inclosed ; it has ravaged all that lay open and were abroad without any mercy. As to timber trees. I have not many here of any considerable age or stature, except a few elms, which (having been decaying many years) one cannot well find to have receiv'd any fresh wounds distinguishable from old cracks and hoUownesses ; and indeed I am told by divers, that elms have not suffer'd as the great oaks have done ; nor do I find amongst innumerable of that species CelmsJ which I have planted, and that are now about 25 and 30 years standing, any of them touched. The same I observe of limes, ivall-nuts, ash, beech, horn-beams, birch, chesnut, and other foresters. But, as I said, mine are young compara- tively ; and vet one would think that should less protect them, because more tender: so as it seems the rifting so much complain'd of has hap- * .See Philosophical Transactions, No. 158, 16S4, p. 559 j and Evelyn's Diary, vol. I. p. 533. 693 pen'd chiefly among the over-grown trees, especially oaks. My Lord Weymouth made his lamentations to me, and so has the Earl of Chester- field, Lord Ferrars, Sir William Fermor, and others concern'd in the same calamity, which I mention because of their distant habitations. But, if rightly I remember", one of these noble persons lately told me, that since the thaw, the trees which were exceedingly split, were come toge- ther and clos'd again, and I easily believ'd it; but that they are really as solid as before, I doubt will not appear when they shall come to be exa- min'd by the axe, and converted to use : nor has this accident happen'd only to standing timber, but to that which has been fell'd and season'd, as Mr. Shish *, the master builder in his Majesties ship yard here, in- form'd me. So much for our indismcB. o As for exotics, I fear my cork-trees will hardly recover: but the spring is yet so very backward, even in this warm and dry spot of mine, that I cannot pronounce any thing positively, especially of such whose bark is very thick and rugged, such as is the cork, enzina, and divers of the resinous trees. The Constantinopolitan, or horse-chesnut, is turgid with buds, and ready to explain its leaf. My cedars, 1 think, are lost ; the ilex and scarlet oak not so ; the arbutus doubtful, and so are batjs, but some will escape, and most of them repuUulate and spring afresh, if cut down near the earth at the latter end of the month. The Scotchjir, spruce, and white Spa^iish (which last uses to suffer in their tender buds by the spring frosts) have receiv'd no dammage this winter : I cannot say the same of the j)ine, which bears the greater cone, but other Norivays and pinasters are fresh. Laurel is only discoloured, and some of the woody branches mortified, which being cut to the quick will soon put forth again, it being a succulent plant. Amongst our shrubs, rosemary is entirely lost, and to my great sorrow, because I had not only beautiful hedges of it, but sufficient to afford me flowers for the making a very considerable quantity of the Queen of Hungaries cele- brated water : so universal, I fear, is the destruction of this excellent plant, not only over England, but our neighbour countries more South- ward, that we must raise our next hopes from the seed. Halimus, or An account of this ingenious man may be seen in Evelyn's Diary, vol. I. p. 4S6. 694 sea purseslan, of which I had a pretty hedge, is also perish'd, and so another of French J'urses; the cypress are all of them scorch'd, and some to death, especially sucli as were kept shorn in pyramids ; but amongst great numbers there will divers escape, after they are well chastis'd, that is, with a tough hazel or other wand to beat off their dead and dusty leaves, which, growing much closer than other shrubs, hinder the air and dews from refreshing the interior parts. This disci- pline I use to all my tonsile shrubs with good success, as oft as a win- ter parches them. The berry bearing sayme, which, if well understood and cultivated, were the only best succedaneum to cypress, has not suf- fer'd in the least; it perfectly resembles the cypress, and grows very tall and thick. I think the arbor thuya is alive, and so is the Ameri- can acacia, acanthus, jmliurus, and pomegranad. My laiirustinus looks suspiciously ; some large and old alaturnus's are kill'd, especially such as were more expos'd to the sun, whereas those that grow in the shade escape ; the reason of which I conjecture to be from the reciprocations of being somewhat relax'd every day, and then made rigid and stiff again all night, which bending and unbending so often, opening and closing the parts, does exceedingly mortifie them, and all other tender plants which, growing in shady places, undergo but one thaw and change. Most of these yet will revive again at the root, being cut close to the ground. The phillyreas angusti and serratij'olio's (both of them incomparably the best for ornamental hedges of any the perennial greens I know) have hardly been sensible of the least impression, more thati tarnishing of their leaves; no more have the S\-ian\sh jasinines, and Persian; and I enumerate these particulars the more minutely, that gentlemen who are curious may take notice what plants they may trust to abroad in all events, for I speak only of such as are exposed. As for the choicer rarities which are set in for hyemation, they certainly escape, or are im- paired accordingly as they are treated by the more or less experienced and industrious gardener, or commodiousness of the conservatory. But to say what may be added on this subject would require a large chapter, not a letter : I would in the mean time advise such as have suffer'd de- triment in the green houses not to despair when they see the leaves of their myrtles, oranges, oleanders, jasmines, and other precious shrubs, 695 russet, or altogether shrivell'd and falling; but to cut them to the quick, plaster the wounds, and plunge their cases and pots, trimm'd with fresh mould, &c. in a warm bed, carefully refresh'd, shaded, air'd and treated as sick patients, and as the prudent gardener best knows how ; but, above all, that he be sure not to expose them 'till these Eastern winds (which I call our English etesians, and which makes our springs so un- comfortable, when we think winter and all danger past) be qualified, for they are deadly to all our plants abroad, and frequently do us more prejudice than the most churlish winters, as commonly finishing the de- struction of what the frosts have spared. Nor are we to be flatter'd with a warm day or two, which are apt to tempt gardners to set out their plants before the end of April, or that we find the wise mulheryy put forth, which is certainly the most faithful monitor; nor should we indeed cut or transplant any of ^\\q. 'perennig.ls 'till of themselves they begin to sprout. I need say nothing of holly , yew, hox, junij)er, &c. hardy and sponta- neous to our country ; and yet, to my grief again, I find an holly stan- dard, of near 100 years old, drooping and of doubtful aspect ; and a very beautiful hedge, tho' indeed much younger, being clipp'd about Michael- mas, is mortified near a foot beneath the top, and in some places to the very ground ; so as there's nothing seems proof against such a winter which is late cut and expos'd. This hedge does also grow against the South, and is very russet, whilst the contrary side is as fresh and green as ever; and in all other places of my plantations that are shaded, the unsharn hollies maintain their verdure, and are, I judge, impregnable against all assaults of weather. Among the fruit trees and murals, none seem to have suffer'd, save Jigs ; but they, being cut down, will spring again at the root. The vines have escaped ; and of the esculent plants and sallads most, except artichokes, which are universally lost, and (what I prefer before any sallad eaten raw when young) my sumpier is all rotted to the verv root. How to repair my loss I know not, for I could never make any of the seed which came from the rock sampire, though mine were of the verv kind to grow. The arborescent, and other sedums, aloes, &c. tho' hous'd, perished 696 with me ; h\xt the yucca and opuntia escaped. Tulips, many are lo&t; and so the Constantinople narcissus, and such tuberosce as were not kept In the chimney corner where was continual fire : some anemonies appear, but I believe many are rotted ; but I have made no great search in the flowery parterre, only I find that most capillaries spring, and other humble and repent plants, notwithstanding all this rigorous season. My tortoise, which, by his constant burying himself in the earth at approach of winter, I look upon as a kind oi plant -animal, happning to be obstructed by a vine-root from mining to the depth he was usually wont to interr, is found stark dead, after having many years escaped the severest winter. Of ^s/t I have lost very few ; and the nigldingaleSy which, for being a short wing'd bird, and so exceeding fat at the time of the year, we commonly suppose them to change the climate (whereas indeed they are hardly able to flee an hundred yards), are as brisk and frollic as ever; nor do 1 think they alter their summer stations, whatever become of them all winter. I know not yet of any body who has given tolerable satisfaction in this particular amongst ovir ornitho- logists. Thus, Sir, I have sent you a rhapsody of such observations as I have been able to make since my return home, and I wish they may prove of any importance to the Society, to which, and to yourself, I am. Sir, a most devoted and obedient servant. Saijs Court, Deptfordy Jpril 14, 1684. ORj THE LADIES DRESSING-ROOM UNLOCK'D, AND HER TOILETTE SPREAD. IN BURLESQUE. TOGETHER WITH THE FOP-DICTIONARY, COMPILED FOR THE USE OF THE FAIR SEX. TanquamfamcB discrimen agatuTy Aut anirrue : tanta est qucereridi cwra decoris. Juvenal, Sat. 6. Such care for a becoming dress they take, As if their Hfe and honour were at stake. LONDON: PRINTED FOR K. BENTLEY, IN RUSSEL-STREET, IN COVENT-GARDEN. 1690. Quarto, 30 pages, including tlie title-page. 4 u In the Diaiv, lOtli March l6S5, when delineating the character and accomplishments of his excellent daughter Mary, who died of the small pox on the 14th of the same month, J. Eve- lyn has a slight reference to this Poem, at that time five years previous to its publication ; and from the manner in which he mentions it, the tract would almost seem to have been of her own composition, illustrated by his notes. The passage alluded to states that " she could compose happily, and put in pretty symbols, as in the Muiidus MuUebris, wherein is an enumeration of the immense variety of the modes and ornaments belonging to the sex." 699 PREFACE. This paper was not to come abroad without a Preface, as well as Comment for instruction of our young master, who, newly launch'd from the University (where he has lost a year or two), is not yet tra- vell'd, or if haply he has made le petit tour (with the formall thing his governour*), having never read TuUy's Offices through since he came from school, sets up for a beau, and equipp'd for the town at his return, comes to seek adventures in an ocean full of rocks and shelves, and wants a skilful pilot to steer him as much as any vessel that goes to the Indies; and oftentimes returns home leaky, and as poorly freighted as those who have been near shipwreck'd, or lost their voyage. It is for direction of such as are setting out towards this great and famous emporium (whether the design be for miss or marriage), what cargo he must provide ; not as merchants do for America, glass-beads and baubles in exchange for gold and pearl, but gold and pearl, and all that's precious, for that which is of less value than knives and childrens rattles. You see, squires, what you are to prepare for as adventurers, or by way of barter, if you think to traffick here and to carry the fair one, especially If she be at her own disposal, or (being come some consider- able time out of the country) has been initiated into the conversation of the town. The refined lady expects her servants and humble admirers should couch her in the forms and decencies of making love in fashion ; in order to this, you must often treat her at the play, the j^drlc, and the musick; present her at the raffle; follow her to Tunhridge at the season of drinking of waters, though you have no need of them your self: you must improve all occasions of celebrating her shape, and how well the mode becomes her, though It be ne'er so fantastical and ridiculous; that she sings like an angel, dances like a goddess, and that you are charmed with her wit and beauty ; above all, you must be sure to find some fault * Whom the Fiench call, mnttre dies ours, a bearwanl. 700 or imperfection in all other ladies of the town, and to laugh at the fopps like yourself. With this, a little practice will qualifie you for the con- versation and mistery of the ruelle ; and if the whole morning be spent between the glass and the comb, that your perruque fit well, and cravat- strings be adjusted, as things of importance ; with these and the like accomplishments you'll emerge a consummate beau, Anglice a cox- comb. But the dancing-master will still be necessary to preserve your good meen, and fit you for the winter-ball. Thus you see, young sparks, how the stile and method of wooing is quite changed, as well as the language, since the days of our fore-fathers (of unhappy memory, simple and plain men as they were), who courted and chose their wives for their modesty, frugality, keeping at home, good-housewifery, and other oeconomical virtues then in reputation : and when the young damsels were taught all these in the country, and at their parents houses, the portion they brought was more in virtue than money, and she was a richer match than one who could have brought a million, and nothing else to commend her. The presents which were made when all was concluded were a ring, a necklace of pearls, and per- haps another fair jewel, the bona paraphernalia of her prudent mother, whose nuptial kirtle, gown, and petticoat, lasted as many anniversaries as the happy couple liv'd together, and were at last bequeath'd, with a purse of old gold, rose-nobles, spur-royals, and spankees, as an house- loom to her grand-daughter. They had cupboards of ancient useful plate, whole chests of damask for the table, and store of fine Holland sheets (white as the driven snow), and fragrant of rose and lavender, for the bed ; and the sturdy oaken bed- stead, and furniture of the house, lasted one whole century ; the shovel- board, and other long tables, both in hall and parlour, were as fixed as the freehold ; nothing was moveable save joynt-stools, the black jacks, silver tankai-ds, and bowls : and though many things fell out between the cup and the lip, when happy ale, March beer, metheglin, malmesey, and old sherry, got the ascendant amongst the blew-coats and badges, they sung Old Symoyi and Cheviot-Chase, and dancdJBrave Arthur, and were able to draw a bow that made the proud Monsieur tremble at the whizze of the grey-goose-feather. 'Twas then ancient hospitality 701 was kept up in town and country, by which the tenants were enabled to pay their landlords at punctual day ; the poor were relieved bounti- fully, and charity was as warm as the kitchen, where the fire was per- petual. In those happy days, Sure-foot, the grave and steady mare, carried the good knight, and his courteous lady behind him, to church and to visit the neighbourhood, without so many hell-carts, ratling coaches, and a crue of lacqueys, which a grave livery servant or two supply'd, who rid before and made way for his worship. Things of use were natural, plain, and wholesome ; nothing was su- perfluous, nothing necessary wanting ; and men of estate studied the publick good, and gave examples of true piety, loyalty, justice, sobriety, charity, and the good neighbourhood compos'd most differences ; per- jury, suborning witnesses, alimony, avowed adulteries, and misses (pub- lickly own'd), were prodigies in those days, and laws were reason, not craft, when mens titles were secure, and they served their generation with honour, left their patrimonial estates improv'd to an hopeful heir, who, passing from the free-school to the college, and thence to the inns of court, acquainting himself with a competent tincture of the laws of his country, followed the example of his worthy ancestors, and if he travell'd abroad, it was not to count steeples, and bring home feather and ribbon, and the sins of other nations, but to gain such experience as rendred him useful to his prince and his country upon occasion, and coufirm'd him in the love of both of 'em above any other. The virgins and young ladies of that golden age* quoesierunt lanani ^ linum, put their hands to the spindle, nor disdain'd they the needle ; were obsequious and helpful to their parents, instructed in the managery of the family, and gave presages of making excellent wives. Nor then did they read so many romances, see so many plays and smutty farces ; set up for visits, and have their days of audience, and idle pass-time : honest gleek, ruff, and honours, diverted the ladies at Christmas, and they knew not so much as the names of ombre, comet, and basset. Their retire- ments were devout and religious books, and their recreations in the dis- * Prov. ch. xxxi. verses 13. 19, 702 tillatory, the knowledge of plants and their virtues, for the comfort of their poor neighhours and use of the family, which wholesome plain dyet and kitchen physick preserved in perfect health. In those days the scurvy, spleen, &c. were scarce heard of, till forreign drinks and mixtures were wantonly Introduc'd. Nor were the young gentlewomen so universally afflicted with hysterical fits, nor, though extremely modest, at all melancholy, or less gay and in good humour : they could touch the lute and virginal, sing like to the damask rose, and their breath was as sweet as their voices : they danc'd the Canarys, Spanish Pavan, and Selengers Round, upon sippets, with as much grace and loveliness as any Isaac, Monsieur, or Italian of them all, can teach with his fop-call and apish postures. To shew you then how the world is alter'd among us, since forreign manners, the luxury (more than Asiatick, which was the final ruine of the greatest, wisest, and most noble monarchy upon earth) has univer- sally obtain'd among us, corrupting ancient slmplicitv ; and in what extravagant forms the young gallant we describ'd is to court the sex, and make his addresses (whether his expedition be for marriage or mis- tresse}, it has been thought good by some charitable hands that have contributed to this catalogue, to present him with an enumeration of particulars, and computation of the charges of the adventurer, as follows. 703 A VOYAGE TO MARRYLAND; OR, THE LADIES DRESSING-ROOM. Negotii sibi qui volet vim parere, Navem S; mulierem, htec duo comparato. Nam nuUcB magis res dum plus negotii Hahent, forte si occeperis exornare. Neque unquam satis ha duce res ornantur, Neque eis ulla ornandi satis satietas est. Flavt. Pcenulus, Act. 1. Seen. 2. Whoever has a mind to abundance of trouble, J-et him furiiisli himself with a ship and a woman ; For no two things will find you more employment, If once you begin to rig them out with all their streamers, Nor are they ever sufficiently adorned, Or satisfy'd, that you have done enough to set them forth *. He that will needs to Marry-land Adventure, first must understand For 's bark what tackle to prepare, Gainst wind and weather, wear and tare : Of point d'Espagne a rich cornet. Two night-rails, and a scarf beset With a great lace, a colleret : One black gown of rich silk, which odd is Witiiout one colour'd, embroider'd boddice : Four petticoats for page to hold up, Four short ones nearer to the crup : Three manteaus, nor can madam less Provision have for due undress ; Nor demy sultane, spagnolet. Nor fringe to sweep the Mall forget : The man that wants employment in abundance. Lit him procure a woman and a ship ; For no two things can furnish you more business : Especially when you begin to rig them. These two things are never rig'd enough ; Nor is there any end of 't, they so love it." Thornton's Translation. 704 Of under bodice three neat pair Embroider'd, and of shoos as fair : Short under petticoats pure fine. Some of Japan stuff, some of Chine, With knee-high galoon bottomed ; Another quilted white and red ; With a broad Flanders lace below : Four pair of bos de soy shot through With silver, diamond buckles too, For garters, and as rich for shoo : Twice twelve day smocks of Holland fine With cambric sleeves, rich point to joyn (For she despises Colbertine) ; Twelve more for night, all Flanders lac'd, Or else she '11 think her self disgrac'd ; The same her night-gown must adorn. With two point wastcoats for the morn : Of pocket mouchoirs nose to drain, A dozen lac'd, a dozen plain : Three night-gowns of rich Indian stuff j Four cushion-cloths are scarce enough, Of point and Flanders, not forget Slippers embroider'd on velvet : A manteau girdle, ruby buckle. And brilliant diamond rings for knuckle : Fans painted and perfumed three : Three muffs of sable, ermine, grey; Nor reckon it among the baubles, A palatine also of sables. A saphire bodkin for the hair, Or sparkling facet diamond there : Three turquois, ruby, emerauld rings For fingers, and such pretty things. As diamond pendants for the ears. Must needs be had ; or two pearl pears. Pearl neck-lace, large and Oriental, And diamond, and of amber pale ; For oranges bears every bush. Nor values she cheap things a rush. 705 Then bracelets for her wrists bespeak (Unless her heart-strings you will break), With diamond croche for breast and — — , Till to hang more on there 's no room. Besides these jewels, you must get Cuff buckles, and an handsome set Of tags for palatine, a curious hasp The manteau 'bout her neck to clasp : Nor may she want a ruby locket. Nor the fine sweet- quilted pocket ; To play at ombre, or basset. She a rich pidvil purse must get, With guineas fiU'd, on cards to lay. With which she fancies most to play : Nor is she troubled at ill fortune, For should the bank be so importune To rob her of the glittering store, The amorous fop will furnish more. Pensive and mute, behind her shoulder He stands, till by her loss grown bolder. Into her lap rouleau conveys. The softest thing a lover says : She grasps it in her greedy hands. Then best his passion understands ; When tedious languishing has fail'd. Rouleau has constantly prevail'd. But to go on where we left off. Though you may think what 's said enough ; This is not half that does belong- To the fantastic female throng : In pin-up ruffles now she flaunts, About her sleeves are engageants ; Of ribbon various echelles. Gloves trimm'd, and lac'd as fine as Nell's *. Twelve dozen 3Iartial, whole and half. Of jonquil, tuberose (don't laugh), Frangissan, orange, violett. Narcissus, jassamin, ambrett : *■ Eleanor Gwynn, better known by the familiar name of Nell, one of the mistresses of Charles II. 4x 706 And some of chicken skin for night, To keep her hands plump, soft, and white Mouches for pushes, to be sure. From Paris the tris-jine procure, And Spanish paper, lip, and cheek. With spittle sweetly to belick : Nor therefore spare in the next place, The pocket spi-unkhig looking-glass : Calemhuc combs in pulvil case To set and trim the hair and face : And that the cheeks may both agree. Plumpers to till the cavity. The settle, cupee, place aright, Frelange, fontange, favorite ; Montd la haute, and palisade, Sortifjlandan (great helps to trade), Bourgoigne, jardin^, cornett, Frilal next upper painer set. Round which it does our ladies please. To spread the hood called rayonnds : Behind the noddle every baggage Wears bundle choux, in English cabbage : Nor cruches she, nor coiifidents. Nor passages, nor hergers wants ; And when this grace Nature denies. An artificial tow supplies ; All which with meurtriers unite, And creve coeurs silly fops to smite. Or take in toil at park or play, Nor holy Church is safe, they say, Where decent veil was wont to hide The modest sex religious pride : Lest these yet prove too great a load, Tis all compris'd in the commode ; Pins tipt with diamond point and head, By which the curls are fastened. In radiant firmament set-out, And over all the hood sur-tout : 707 Thus face that erst near head was placd, Imagine now about the wast, For tour on tour, and tire on tire, Like steeple Bow, or Grantham spire, Or Septizonium, once at Rome, (But does not half so well become Fair ladies head), you here behold Beauty by tyrant mode controll'd. The graceful oval, and the round, This horse tire does quite confound ; And ears like satyr, large and raw, And bony face, and hollow jaw ; This monstrous dress does now reveal, Which well-plac'd curls did once conceal. Besides all these, 'tis always meant You furnish her apartment With Moreclack tapestry, damask bed, Or velvet richly embroidered : Branches, brassero, cassolets, A cofre-fort, and cabinets, Vasas of silver, porcelan, store To set, and range about the floor : The chimney furniture of plate (For iron 's now quite out of date) j Tea-table, skreens, trunks, and stand, Large looking-glass, richly japann'd ; An hanging shelf, to which belongs Romances, plays, and amorous songs ; Repeating clocks the hour to show When to the play 'tis time to go. In pompous coach, or else sedan'd With equipage along the Strand, And with her new beau fopling mann'd. A new scene to us next presents. The dressing-room and implements. Of toilet plate, gilt and emboss'd, And several other things of cost . The table miroir, one glue pot. One for pomatuma, and what not ? 708 Of washes, unguents, and cosmeticks ; A pair of silver-candlesticks ; Snuffers and snuff-dish ; boxes more, For powders, patches, waters store. In silver flasks, or bottles, cups Cover'd, or open, to wash chaps ; Nor may Hungarian Queens be wanting, Nor store of spirits against fainting ; Of other waters, rich and sweet. To sprinkle handkerchief is meet; D'ange, orange, mill-fleur, myrtle, Whole quarts the chamber to bequirtle : Of essence rare, and le meillure. From Rome, from Florence, Montpellier, In filgran casset to repel When scent of gousset does rebel, Though powder'd alum be as good, Well strew'd on, and well imderstood ; For vapours that offend the lass Of sal-ammoniack a glass : Nor brush for gown, nor oval salver, Nor pincushion, nor box of silver. Baskets of fil'gran, long and round, Or if Japonian to be found. And the whole town so many yield, Calembuc combs by dozens fill'd You must present, and a world more. She 's a poor miss can count her store. The working apron, too, from France, With all its trim apurtenance ; Loo masks, and whole, as winds do blow. And miss abroad 's dispos'd to go: Hoods by whole dozens, white and black, And store of coiffs she must not lack. Nor velvet scarfs about her back. To keep her warm ; all these at least In amber'd skins, or quilted chest Richly perfum'd, she lays, and rare Powders for garments, some for hair. 709 Of Cyprus, and of Corduba, And the rich polvil of Goa : Nor here omit the bob of gold Which a pomander ball does hold ; This to her side she does attach With gold crochet, or French pennache. More useful far than ferula For any saucy coxcomb's jaw ; A graceful swing to this belongs, Which he returns in cringe and songs. And languishing to kiss the hand, That can perfumed blows command. All these, and more, in order set, A large rich cloth of gold toilet Does cover, and, to put up rags, Two high embroidered sweet bags. Or a large perfum'd Spanish skin. To wrap up all these trinkets in : But I had almost quite forgot A tea and (likewise) chocolate pot. With molionet and caudle cup, Restoring breakfast to sup up ; Porcelan saucers, spoons of gold. Dishes that refin'd sugars hold ; Pastillos di Bocca we In box of beaten gold do see, Inchas'd with diamonds, and tweeze As rich and costly as all these. To which a bunch of onyxes And many a golden seal there dangles. Mysterious cyphers, and new fangles. Gold is her toothpick, gold her watch is, And gold is every thing she touches : But, tir'd with numbers, I give o'er ; Arithmetick can add no more. Thus rigg'd the vessel, and equipp'd. She is for all adventures shipp'd. And portion, 'ere the year goes round, Does with her vanity confound. 710 THE FOP -DICTIONARY, OR, AN ALPHABETICAL CATALOGUE OF THE HARD AND FOREIGN NAMES AND TERMS OF THE ART COSMETICK, &c. TOGETHER WITH THEIR INTERPRETATIONS, FOR INSTRUCTION OF THE UNl£ARNED •. Attache. Any thing which fastens to another, &c. Bas de soi/e shot through. Silk stockings, with gold or silver thread wove into the clock. Berger. A plain small lock (^a la sheperdessej turn'd up with a puflF. Bourgoigne. The first part of the dress for the head next the hair. Branches. Hanging candlesticks, like those used in churches. Brasiere. A large vessel, or moving-hearth of silver, for coals, trans- portable into any room, much used in Spain. Calumhuc. A certain precious wood, of an agreeable scent, brought from the Indies. Campaine. A kind of narrow picked lace. Casset. A dressing-box. Cassolet. Perfuming pot, or censer. Chom:. The great round boss or bundle, resembling a cabbage, from whence the French give it that name. Cofre-fort. A strong box of some precious or hard wood, &c. bound with gilded ribs. Colhertine. A lace resembling net-work, of the fabrick of Monsieur Colbert, superintendent of the French King's manufactures. Collaret. A sort of gorget. Commode. A frame of wire, cover'd with silk, on which the whole head-attlre is adjusted at once upon a bust, or property of wood carved to the breasts", like that which perruque-makers set upon their stalls. Confidants. Smaller curies near the eares. Cornet. The upper pinner, dangling about the cheeks like hounds ears. * London : Printed for R. Bentley, in Russell-street, in Covent-garden. 1690. 711 Cosmeticks. Here used for any eflFemlnate ornament; also, artificial complections and perfumes. Creve-cceur. Heart-breakers, the two small curl'd locks at the nape of the neck. Crochet. The hook to which are chain'd the ladles watch, seals, and other intaglias, &c. Cruches. Certain smaller curies, placed on the forehead. Cupp^e. A kind of pinner. Echelles. A pectoral, or stomacher, lac'd with ribbon, like the rounds of a ladder. Engageants. Deep double ruffles, hanging down to the wrists. Favorites. Locks dangling on the temples. Ferula. An instrument of wood us'd for correction of lighter faults, more sensibly known to school-boys than to ladies. Fil-g7'aind. Dressing- boxes, baskets, or whatever else is made of silver wire-work. Flandan. A kind of pinner joyning with the bonnet. Firmament. Diamonds, or other precious stones heading the pins, which they stick in the tour and hair, like stars. Frelan. Bonnet and pinner together. Font-Ange. The top-knot, so call'd from Mademoiselle de Fontange, one of the French Kings mistresses, who first wore it. Gris. The grey furr of squirrels bellies. Japonian. Any thing varnished with laccar, or China polishing, or that is old or fantastical. Jardinde. That single pinner next the Bourgogne. Loo Mask. An half mask. Martial. The name of a famous French perfumer, emulating the Fran- gipani of Rome. Miroir. In general, any looking-glass ; but here, for the table, toilet, • pocket sprunking glass. Molionet. The instrument us'd to mingle chocolate with the water. Monte la hard. Certain degrees of wire to raise the dress. Mouchoire. It were rude, vulgar, and unseemly to call it handkerchief. Mouches. Flies, or black patches, by the vulgar. 712 Meurtrieres. Murderers ; a certain knot in the hair, which ties and unites the cui'ls. Palatine. Formerly called Sables, or Tippet, because made of the tails of that animal. Palisade. A wire sustaining the hair next to the dutchess, or first knot. Passagere. A curl'd lock next the temples. Pastillo di JBocca. Perfum'd lozenges to improve the breath. Pennache. Any bunch or tassel of small ribbon. Plumpers. Certain very thin, I'ound, and light balls, to plump out and fill up the cavities of the cheeks, much us'd by old Court-Coun- tesses. Polvil. The Portugal term for the most exquisite powders and perfumes. Raggs. A compendious name generally us'd for all sorts of point, lace, &c. whence tlie women who bring them to ladles chambers are call'd ragg women, but whilst in their shops, Exchange women. Rare, les meilleures. Best, and most excellent; but in language de beau, rare Sf la meilleure, happily rhyming with 3Io7itpellicr. Rayonne. Upper hood, pinn'd in circle, like the sun -beams. Rouleau. Is forty nine guineas, made up in a paper roll, which Mon- sieur F , Sir J , and Father B , lend to losing gamesters that are good men, and have fifty in return. Rujftes. By our fore-fathers call'd cuffs. Settf^e. The double pinner. Sorti. A little knot of small ribbon, peeping out between the pinner and bonnet. Septizonium. A very high tower in Rome, built by the Emperor Seve- rus, of seven ranks of pillars, set one upon the other, and diminishing to the top, like the ladles new dress for their heads, which was the mode among the Roman dames, and is exactly descrlb'd by Juvenal in his 6'th Satyr : Tot premit ordinibiis, tot adhuc compagibus altum ^dificat caput. Andromachen afronte videhis : Post minor est : Such rows of curies press'd on each other lye, She builds her head so many stories high, 713 That look on her before, and you would swear Hector's tall wife Andromache she were, Behind a pigmy — Spanish Paper. A beautiful red colour, which the ladles, &c. in Spain paint their faces withal. Spagnolet. A kind of narrow- sleev'd gown, a la Spagnole. Spi'imking. A Dutch term for pruning, tiffing, trimming, and setting out, by the glass or pocket miroir. Sultane. A gown trlmm'd with buttons and loops. Surtout. A night-hood covering the entire dress. Toilet. Corruptly call'd the twilight, but originally signifying a little cloth. Tour. An artificial dress of hair on the forehead, &c. Tresjine. Laiigage de beau; extremely fine and delicate : cum mill- tis aliis. For, besides these, there are a world more ; as assassin, or venez a moy, a certain breast-knot, as much as to say. Come to me. Sir, &c. : Duchesse, a knot next the hair, immediately above the tour, &c. with Innumerable others now obsolete, and for the present out of use; but we confine ourselves to those in vogue. To conclude, those who have the curiosity, by comparing these terms with the ancients, thereby to Inform themselves how this elegant science is improv'd, especially since we have submitted to and still continue under the empire of the French (for want of some royal or illustrious ladies invention and courage to give the law of the mode to her own country, and to vindicate it from foreign tyranny), may for divine history consult Isaiah, ch. ill. ver. 16, &c. ; and for pro- phane, read Plautus his Poenulus, act i, seen. 2. and his Aulularia, act ill, seen. 5. 4 Y 714 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE "COMPLEAT GARDENER*," BY MONS. BE LA QUINTINYE, CHIEF DIRECTOR OF ALL THE GARDENS OF THE FRENCH KING: MADE ENGLISH BY JOHN EVELYN, ESQ. I cannot conceive but it must needs be a very acceptable Advertise- ment, and of universal concern to all noble-men and persons of quality, lovers of gardens, and improvers of plantations, of all diversions and employments the most natural, usefull, innocent and agreeable (at M'hat distance soever) from a place of so easy and speedy correspon- dence, and which is so nere this great city to give this notice. That of all I have hitherto seen, either at home or abroad, or found by reading many books publish'd on this subject, pretending to speak of nurseries and plantations for store and variety ; directions for the designing (or as they term it) the skillful making, plotting, laying-out, and disposing of a ground to the best advantage ; in a word for what- soever were desireable for the furniture of such a ground, with the most excellent and warantable fruit (I say warantable, because it is peculiarly due to their honest industry, and so rarely to be met with elsewhere) and other accessories to gardens of all denominations, as in that vast and ample collection which I have lately seen, and well considered at Brompton Park near Kensington f ; the very sight of * "Or, Directions for cultivating and right ordering of Fruit Gardens and Kitchen Gardens; uiiii (livers Reflections on several Parts of Husbandry. In Six Books. By the famous Monsr De Lii Quinlinye, Chief Director of all the Gardens of the French King. To which is added, his Treatise of Orange Trees, with the Raising of Melons, omitted in the French Editions. Made English by John Evelyn, Esq. With Plates. London : Printed for Matthew Gillyflower, at the Sj)read Eagle in Westminster Hall, and James Partridge, at the Post-house at Charing Cross, IGOa." Folio, 518 pages. t April 24, 1694. " I went to visit Mr. Waller, an extraordinary young gentleman of greate acconi]>lishments, an excellent botanist, a rare ingraver on brass, writer in Latin, and a poet. I carried him to see Bruiiipion Park, where he was in admiration at the store of rare plants, and the method he found in that noble nursery, and how well it was cultivated." Diary, 4to. vol. ii. p. 41, " Brompton Park garden, belonging to Mr. London and Mr. Wise, has a large long grcen-liouse, the front all glass and board, the north side brick. Here the King's greens, which were in sum- 715 which alone gives an idea of something that is greater than I can well express, without an enumeration of particulars ; and of the exceeding industry, method, and address of those who have undertaken and culti- vated it for publick use ; I mean Mr. George London (chief gardner to their Majesties^ and his associate Mr. Henry Wise, For I have long observ'd (from the daily practice and effects of the laudable Industry of these two partners) that they have not made gain the only mark of their pains ; but with extraordinary and rare Industry endeavour'd to improve themselves In the mysteries of their profession, from the great advantages, and now long experience they have had. In being employed in most of the celebrated gardens and plantations which this nation abounds in ; besides what they have learn'd abroad, and where horti- culture is in highest reputation *. I find they not only understand the nature and genius of the several soils, but their usual Infirmities, proper remedies, composts and applica- tions to re-Invigorate exhausted mould, sweeten the foul and tainted, and reduce the sower, harsh, stubborn and dry, or over moist and dilu- ted earth to Its genuine temper and constitution ; and what aspects and situations are proper for the several sorts of mural, standard, dwarf, and other fruit trees. mer at Kensington, are placed, but they take but little room in comparison of their own. Their garden is chiefly a nursery for all sens of plants, of which they are very full." See Account of several Gardens near London upon a view of them in December 1C9], by I. Gibson, Archa;ologia, vol. xii.p. 189. * These distinguished nurserymen were the most eminent in their profession at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth century. George London was apprentice to Rose, the royal gardener, often mentioned by Evelyn, and sent by him to France to study the beauties of Versailles. On his return he was made head-gardener to Dr. Compton, Bishop of London and at the beginning of the revolution was appointed superintendant of the royal gardens, at a salary of 200/. a year, and Page of the Back-Stairs to Queen Mary. In connection with Cooke (gardener to Lord Essex), Lucre, and Field (gardeners to the Earl of Bedford), he established the Brompton Nursery. The first place they laid out was Lord Weymouth's (now the Marquess of Bath) at Long- leat, where each partner staid a month. Switzer, in his " Gardener's Recreation," says that Lon- don might have been called director-general of the gardens of England, most of which he visited once or twice each year, riding generally fifty or sixty miles a day. Two of the partners died, and a third selling his share to Wise, the whole fell to London and Wise, and was then worth from 30 to 40,000/. perhaps, says Switzer, as much as that of all the nurseries of France put too-ether. London's last work was Edger in Essex. He died in 1713. Of Wise little is known, excepting that he laid out grounds, and in particular Blenheim. 716 They have made observations, and given me a specimen of that long, but hitherto wanting particular, of discriminating the several kinds of fruits by their characteristical notes, from a long and critical observa- tion of the leafe, taste, colour, and other distinguishing qualities ; so as one shall not be impos'd upon with fruits of several names ; when in truth there is but one due to them. For Instance, in peares alone, a gentlemen in the country sends to the nurseries for the liver hlanck, ])!g-idg7ij/ de cliouille, rattau hlanc, Sec. ; the English St. Gilbert, Cranbourn pears, and several other names; when all this while they are no other than the well known cadillac. The same also hap'ning in peaches, apples, plums, cherris and other fruit ; for want of an accurate examination (by comparing of their taste, and those other indications I have mentioned), for which gentlemen complain, and not without cause, that the nursery-men abuse them ; when 'tis their ignorance, or the exotic name of which they are so fond. I find thev have likewise apply'd themselves to attain a sufficient mastery in lines and figures for general design, and expeditious methods for casting and levelling of grounds; and to bring them into the most apt form they are capable of; which requires a particular address ; and to determine the best proportions of walks and avenues, starrs, centres, &c. suitable to the lengths ; and how, and with what materials, whe- ther gravel, carpet, &c. to be layed. They have a numerous collection of the best designs, and I perceive are able of themselves to draw and contrive others applicable to the places, when busie works and parterres of imbroidery for the coronary and flower gardens are proper or desired. And where fountains, statues, vases, dials, and other decorations of magnificence are to be plac'd with most advantage. To this add a plentiful and choice collection of orange trees, lemon, mertll, bales, jassmines, and all other rarities and exotics requiring the conservatory ; after they have embelllsh'd their proper stations abroad during the Summer, and for continuing a no less ornament in the green house during Winter. They have a very brave and noble assembly of the flowery and other trees : perennial and variegated ever greens and shrubs, hardy and fittest 717 for our climate ; and understand what best to plant the humble bos- cage, wilderness, or taller groves with ; where and how to dispose and govern them, according as ground and situation of the place requires, both for shelter and ornament. For which purpose (and for walks and avenues) they have store of elms, limes, platans, Constantinople-ches- nuts, black cherry-trees, &c. Nor are they, I perceive, less knowing in that most useful, though less pompous part of horticulture, the potagere, meloniere, culinarie gar- den : where they should most properly be plac'd for the use of the family ; how to be planted, furnish'd and cultivated so as to afford great pleasure to the eye, as well as profit to the master. And they have also seeds, bulbs, roots, slips for the flower garden, and shew how they ought to be order'd and maintain'd. Lastly, I might super-add the great number of grounds and gardens of noble-men and persons of quality which they have made and planted ah origine, and are still under their care and inspection, though at considerable distances, and how exceedingly they prosper, to justifie what I hear freely said in their behalf. And as for the nursery part in voucher, and to make good what I have said on th,at particular, one needs no more than take a walk to Brompton Park upon a fair morning, to behold and admire what a magazine these industrious men have provided, fit for age and choice in their several classes, and all within one inclosure : such an assembly I believe, as is no where else to be met with in this kingdom, nor in any other that I know of. I cannot therefore forbear to publish (after all the encomiums of this great work of Monsr. de la Quintinye which I confess are very just) what we can and are able to perform in this part of agriculture ; and have some amoenities and advantages peculiar to our own, which neither France nor any other country can attain to ; and is much due to the industry of Mr. London and Mr. Wise, 'and to such as shall imitate their laudable undertakings. Be this then for their encouragement, and to gratifie such as may need or require their assistance. J. Evelyn. 718 ADVERTISEMENT BY J. EVELYN, PREFIXED TO M. DE LA QUINTINYES DIRECTIONS CONCERNING MELONS. It is now more than twenty years since Monsieur de la Quintinye, beino- in England, that receiving the honour of a visit from him at my house *, and falling into discourse of gardens, he afterwards, on my request sent me some directions from Paris concerning the ordering of melons ; it being in effect the same, though somewhat more ample, which was about that time published by Mr. Oldenburg. It may not perhaps be unwelcome to our gard'ner, or improperly annex'd to this useful part of horticulture, especially coming from the most experienc'd, (Trans. Royal Soc.) in relation to this delicious fruit : however (and for what reason I enquire not) omitted as to any particular and full instructions in this long expected work of his. I give it therefore in the method I long since cast it for some friends of mine. J. Evelyn. AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE CURIOUS, . PREFIXED TO M. DE LA QUINTINYES TREATISE OF ORANGE TREES. — ♦ — It were to be wish'd that the author (whom I had the honour to know) had llv'd to put his last hand to this whole work, and added to his potagere the culture of melons, In which he was the most exquisite master, but has in a manner quite omitted it. Not that what he has obhged the world withal. Is not the most perfect and consummate piece * When Quintinye came to England to visit Evelyn, King Charles the Second ofifered him a pen- sion to stay and superintend the royal gardens here, but this he declined, and returned to serve his own master. 719 that was ever I believe publish'd on this agreeable subject, but because 'tis said, he did himself intend it, and perhaps to have abbreviated some periods and repetitions which now and then occur to the translator, but which he caiinot honestly pretermit to justifie the version. As to what imports this little treatise in which I have been concern'd out of my affection to this sweet and innocent toil, and to prevent mistakes and needless circumlocution (had I over-nicely followed the text), let the reader take notice that I use the word Case indifferently for the box, table, or other vessel, in which these choice trees are commonly j)lanted. Oringist, for the gard'ner pretending to the culture of orange trees. Casing or In-casing, for the action, or putting the trees into the case or vessel. Un-casing, for the taking them out of the case or vessel, Re-Casing, for the planting them again into the same, or some other case or vessel. Green-house, for the place or conservatory where the trees are in- closed and shut up during the winter. Clod Cor Mot), for that earth, sod, or whole mass of mould adhering to the roots : the rest are obvious. As to what the author has mention'd in chap. ix. speaking to the prejudice of using fire, and supplying it with lighted flambeaux and lamps ; besides that he no where says how the smoak is to be convey'd out of so verv close a place, nor any thing of the number of lights and lamps, if the house be large and ample, which would be a considerable charge if maintain'd with wax, or oyl-olive (for such it ought to be, to avoid the intollerable smell ■Ax\AJxdigos of gross and cheaper materials), it gives me an opportunity of adding something to the justification and melioration of what I lately publish'd in the last edition of my Horten- sial Kalender. It is certain that a naked or stov'd fire, pent up within the house without any exit or succession of external, fresh, and unex- hausted vital air, must needs be extreamly noxious and pernicious to these delicate and tender plants. But that which answers all the ends and operations of natural air, and the objections against the use of fire, any other way save by lamps and flambeaux, I conceive is preferable to 720 them. I acknowledge to have seen by experience that the naked fire made too near the pipes is intolerable, melting even cast iron itself: but as I no where recommend that metal, but that the pipes be made of crucible earth, and propose the whole but as a laudable experiment ; so I do not question but if such pipes were contriv'd to be placed at farther distance from the fire, or that there were a reasonable thick fire-stone laid flat or rather arch-wise (on which there might be strew'd a bath or bed of sand) between the naked fire and the pipes, to Intercept and moderate the intenser heat (with due regard to register and govern the blast), but that a gentle and benign warmth would ensue, and such as should only recreate, without the least Inconvenience to our nicest exotics : add to this, and for the more equal distribution of this genuine temper, that the noses of the pipes might easily be Inserted Into a larger pipe of laton, which should be applied either to the blind wall the whole length of the house within, or in the middle, which being pierced with frequent small holes, would breathe It more equally through the conser- vatory. There might also be placed a vessel or kettle upon the fire- stone-diaphragma, to be at any time fill'd and supplied by a tunnel from without with water, the vapour of which would exceedingly temper the pipes, and contribute to the perfection of this experiment. Facile est inventis addere. J. Evelyn. atcetaria: A DISCOURSE OF SALLETS. By J. E. S. R. S. AUTHOR OF THE KALENDARIUM. Ov TTavTos avbpos eariv apTvaai KaXUs, Crat, in Glauc. LONDON: PRINTED FOR B. TOOKE, AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE IN FLEET STREET. 1G99. 4z As this tract was the last, and at the same time one of the most singular of Evelyn's publica- tions, it is probably entitled to a more particular notice than most of the preceding, since it was written at a very advanced period of his life, he being then upon the verge of eighty. His in- dustry and his abilities were however still unimpaired : but notwithstanding the matured judg- ment and the agreeable vivacity of language which this tract evinces, it had not the same rapi- dity of sale that marked some of his former productions. In ] 706 it was re-published with a new title-page only, printed upon paper of a lighter colour, professing to be a second edition, but as a proof that it was not so, the same list of errata is attached to it as appeared to the first edition of 1699. Mr. Evelyn presented this book to the Chancellor Sommers, to whom it was dedicated, 21st October 1699, and received his Lordship's thanks in a letter of extraordinary civility (see Diary, vol. II. p. 66). In a letter to Dr. Beale, dated llth July 1679, he says, " I have sometimes thought of pub- lishing a treatise of Acetaria, which (though but one of the chapters oi Elysium Britannicum*) would make a competent volume, accompanied with other necessaries, according to my man- ner; but whilst I as often think of performing my so long since promised, more universal, hor- tulan work, I know not how to take that chapter out, and single it for the presse, without some blemish to the rest, \\lien again I consider into what an ocean I am plunged, how much I have written and collected for above these twenty years, upon this fruitful and inexhaustible subject (I mean of horticulture), not yet fully digested to my mind, and what insuperable paines it will require to insert the dayly increasing particulars into what I have already in some measure pre- pared, and which must of necessitie be don by my owne hand, I am almost out of hope that I shall ever have strength and leisure to bring it to maturity, having for the last ten years of my life been in perpetual motion, and hardly two moneths in a yeare at my owne habitation, or con- versant with my family." — Ibid. p. 106. * Never completed : but amongst the MSS. at VVotton there are parts of a projected work" bearing this title, consisting of miscellaneous observations on a variety of subjects, but nothing digested. 723 TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD JOHN SOMERS, OF EVESHAiM, LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND, AND PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL SOeiETY. My Lord, The idea and plan of the Royal Society having been first conceiv'd and delineated by a great and learned Chancellor, which high office your Loi-dship deservedly bears, not as an acquisition of fortune but your intellectual endowments ; conspicuous (among other excellencies) by the inclination your Lordship discovers to promote natural know- ledge ; as it justifies the discernment of that assembly to pitch upon your Lordship for their President, so does it no less discover the can- dor, yea, I presume to say, the sublimity of your mind, in so generously honoring them with your acceptance of the choice they have made. A Chancellor, and a very learned Lord *, was the first who honoured the chair; and a no less honorable and learned Chancellor -f- resigns it to your Lordship : so as after all the difficulties and hardships the Society has hitherto gone through, it has thro' the favour and protection of its Presidents not only preserv'd its reputation from the malevolence of ene- mies and detractors, but gone on culminating, and now triumphantly in your Lordship, under whose propitious influence, I am perswaded, it may promise it self that which indeed has hitherto been wanting to jus- tifie the glorious title it bears of a Royal Society. Tbe emancipating it from some remaining and discouraging circumstances, which it as yet * Lord Viscount Brouncker, Chancellor to the Jate Queen Consort Henrietta-Maria, now Dow- ager. His Lordship sat as President from 1698, in which year he was elected a Fellow, to 1703, and died of an apoplexy April 26, 1*16. t The Right Honourable Charles Montague, Chancellor of the Exchequer ; created Earl of Halifax at the accession of George L He is also known as one of the authors of the poem enti- tled " The City Mouse and Country Mouse," a burlesque of Dryden's " Hind and Panther," which he wrote in conjunction with Prior. He was the son of George Montague, a younger son of the Earl of Manchester, was born at Horton in Northamptonshire April 16, 1661, and died May 19, 1715. 724 labours under ; among which, that of a precarious and unsteady abode is not the least. This honor was reserv'd for your Lordship'; and an honor, permit me to call it, not at all unworthy the owning of the greatest person living, namely, the establishing and promoting real knowledge ; and (next to what is divine) truly so called; as far, at least, as humane nature extends towards the knowledge of nature, by enlarging her empire beyond the land of spectres, forms, intentional species, vacuum, occult qualities, and other inadsequate notions, which by their obstreperous and noisy disputes affrighting, and (till of late) deterring men from adventuring on further discoveries, confin'd them in a lazy acquiescence, and to be fed with fantasms and fruitless speculations, which signifie nothing to the specifick nature of things, solid and useful knowledge ; by the investigation of causes, principles, energies, powers, and efiFects of bo- dies and things visible; and to improve them for the good and benefit of mankind. My Lord, that which the Royal Society needs to accomplish an en- tire freedom, and (by rendering their circumstances more easie) capable to subsist with honor, and to reach indeed the glorious ends of its insti- tution, is an establishment in a more settl'd, appropriate, and commo- dious place * ; having hitherto (like the Tabernacle in the Wilderness) been only ambulatory for almost forty years: but Solomon built the first temple ; and what forbids us to hope that as great a prince may build Solomon's house, as that great Chancellor (one of your Lordship's learned predecessors) had design'd the plan -f, there being nothing in that august and noble model impossible, or beyond the power of nature and learned industry. Thus, whilst King Solomon's temple was consecrated to the God of nature and iiis true worship, this may be dedicated and set apart for the works of nature, deliver'd from those illusions and impostors that are still endeavouring to cloud and depress the true and substantial philo- phy ; a shallow and superficial insight wherein (as that incomparable person rightly observes) having made so many atheists, whilst a pro- * See the note, p. 556. t Verulamii Atlantis. 7^2o found and thorow penetration into her recesses (^whlch is the husiness of the Royal Society) would lead men to the knowledge and admiration of the glorious Author. And now, my Lord, I expect some will wonder what my meaning is, to usher in a trifle with so much magnificence, and end at last in a fine receipt for the dressing of a sallet with an handful of pot-herhs ! But yet, my Lord, this subject, as low and despicable as it appears, chal- lenges a part of natural history ; and the greatest princes have thouoht it no disgrace, not only to make It their diversion hut their care, and to promote and encourage it in the midst of their weightiest affairs : he who wrote of the cedar of Libanus wrote also of the hysop which grows upon the wall. To verlfie this, how much might T say of gardens and rural employ- ments, preferrable to the pomp and grandeur of other secular business, and that in the estimate of as great men as any age has produc'd ! And it Is of such great souls we have it recorded, that after they had per- form'd the noblest exploits for the publick, they sometimes chano-ed their scepters for the spade, and their purple for the gardlner's apron. And of these, some, my Lord, were emperors, kings, consuls, dictators, and wise statesmen, who amidst the most important affairs, both in peace and war, have quitted all their pomp and dignity in exchange of this learned pleasure ; nor that of the most refin'd part of agriculture (the philosophy of the garden and parterre only), but of herbs and wholesome sallets, and other plain and useful parts of geoponicks, and wrote books of tillage and husbandry, and took the plough-tackle for their banner, and their names from the grain and pulse they sow'd, as the marks and characters of the highest honour. But I proceed no farther on a topick so well known to your Lordship; nor urge I examples of such Illustrious persons laying aside their gran- deur, and even of deserting their stations (which would infinitely preju- dice the publick, when worthy men are in place and at the helm), but to shew how consistent the diversions of the garden and villa were with the highest and busiest employment of the commonwealth, and never thought a reproch, or the least dimiimtion to the gravity and veneration due to their persons and the noble rank they held. 726 Will your Lordship give me leave to repeat what is said of the younger Pliny, nephew to the naturalist, and whom I think we may parallel with the greatest of his time, and perhaps of any since, under the wor- thiest Emperor the Roman world ever had ? A person of vast abilities, rich, and high in his master's favour, that so husbanded his time, as in the midst of the weightiest affairs to have answered, and by his example* made good, what I have said on this occasion. The ancient and best magistrates of Rome allow'd but the ninth day for the city and publick business ; the rest for the country and the sallet garden. There were then fewer causes indeed at the bar, but never greater justice, nor bet- ter judges and advocates. And 'tis hence observed, that we hardly find a orreat and wise man among the ancients, qui nullos habiiit hortos, ex- cepting only Pomponius Atticus ; whilst his dear Cicero professes, that he never laid out his money more readily than in the purchasing of gar- dens, and those sweet retirements, for which he so often left the rostra (and court of the greatest and most flourishing state of the world), to visit, prune, and water them with his own hands. But, my Lord, I forget with whom I am talking thus ; and a gardiner ought not to be so bold. The present I humbly make your Lordship is indeed but a sallet of^rude herbs : but there is among them that which was a prize at the Isthmian games; and your Lordship knows who it was both accepted and rewarded as despicable an oblation of this kind. The favor I humbly beg is your Lordship's pardon for this pre- sumption. The subject is mean, and requires it, and my reputation in danger, should your Lordship hence suspect that one could never write so much of dressing sallets, who minded any thing serious, besides the gratifying a sensual appetite with a voluptuary Apician art. Truly, my Lord, 1 am so far from designing to promote those sup- plicia luaiirice (as Seneca calls them) by what I have here written, that were it in my power 1 would recall the world, if not altogether to their pristine diet, yet to a much more wholesome and temperate than is now * Si quid temporis h civilibus negotiis, quibus totumjam intenderat animum, suffurari potuit, colendis agiis, priscos illos Romanos Numam Pompilium, Cincinnatum, Catonem, Fabios, Cice- lones, aliosque virtute claros viros imitare ; qui in magno honore constituti, vites putare, stereo- rare agros, et irrigare requaquam turpe et inhoneslum putarunt. In Vit. Plin. 2. 727 in fashion : and what if they find me like to some who are eager after hunting and other field-sports, which are laborious exercises; and fish- ing, which is Indeed a lazy one? who, after all their pains and fatigue, never eat what they take and catch in either : for some such I have known ; and tho' I cannot affirm so of my self (when a well drest and excellent sallet is before me), I am yet a very moderate eater of them. So as to this book-luxury, I can affirm, and that truly, what the Poet says of himself (on a less Innocent occasion), Lasciva pag'ina, vita p7'oba. God forbid, that after all 1 have advanc'd in praise of sallets, I should be thought to plead for the vice 1 censure, and chuse that of Epicurus for my lemma; in hac arte consenui; or to have spent my time in nothing else. The plan annext to these papers, and the appa- ratus made to superstruct upon it, would acquit me of having bent all my contemplations on sallets only. What I humbly offer your Lord- ship is (as I said) part of natural history, the product of horticulture and the field, dignified by the most illustrious, and sometimes tilled laiireato vomer e ; which, as it concerns a part of philosophy, I may (without vanity) be allow'd to have taken some pains in cultivating, as an infe- rior member of the Royal Societv. But, my Lord, whilst you read on (If at least you vouchsafe me that honor to read at all), I am conscious I rob the publlck of its most pre- cious moments. I therefore humbly again Implore your Lordship's pardon ; nor in- deed needed I to have said half this to kindle in your breast that which is already shining there (your Lordship's esteem of the Royal Societv), after what you were pleas'd to express in such an obliging manner, when it was lately to wait upon your Lordship, among whom I had the honor to be a witness of your generous and favourable acceptance of their addresses, who am, My Lord, Your Lordship's most humble and most obedient servant, J. Evelyn. 728 THE PREFACE. The favourable entertainment which the " Kalendar " has found, encouraging the bookseller to adventure upon a ninth impression, I could not refuse his request of my revising and giving it the best im- provement I was capable, to an inexhaustible subject, as it regards a part of horticulture, and offer some little aid to such as love a diversion so innocent and laudable; There are those of late who have arrogated, and given the glorious title of " Compleat and Accomplish'd Gardiners " to what they have publlsh'd, as if there were nothing wanting, nothing more remaining, or farther to be expected from the field ; and that Nature had been quite emptied of all her fertile store; whilst those who thus magnifie their discoveries have, after all, penetrated but a very little way into this vast, ample, and as yet unknown territory, who see not that it would still require the revolution of many ages, deep and long experience, for any man to emerge that perfect and accomplish'd artist gardiner they boast themselves to be. Nor do I think men will ever reach the end and far extended limits of the vegetable kingdom ; so incomprehensible is the variety it every day produces, of the most useful and admirable of all the aspectable works of God; since almost all we see, and touch, and taste, and smell, eat and drink, are clad with and defended (from the greatest prince to the meanest peasant), is furnished from that great and universal plantation, epitomiz'd in our gardens, highly worth the contemplation of the most profound divine and deepest philosopher. I should be asham'd to acknowledge how little I have advanc'd, could I find that ever any mortal man from Adam, Noah, Solomon, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Dioscorldes, and the rest of Nature's interpreters, had ever arriv'd to the perfect knowledge of any one plant or vulgar weed what- soever : but this perhaps may yet possibly be reserv'd for another state of things, and a longer day * ; that is, when time shall be no more, but knowledge shall be encreas'd. * Ut hujusmodi Historiam vix dura inchoatum, non ante absolvendam putem, Exitio terras quam dabit una dies. Joan. Raius Praefat. Hist. Plantarum, fol. 1636. 729 We have heard of one who studied and contemplated the nature of bees only, for sixty years ; after which, you will not wonder, that a per- son of my acquaintance should have spent almost forty in gathering and amassing materials for an hortulan design, to so enormous an heap, as to fill some thousand pages, and yet be comprehended within two or three acres of ground; nay, within the square of less than one (skilfullv planted and cultivated) sufficient to furnish and entertain his time and thoughts all his life long, with a most innocent, agreeable, and useful employment. But you may justly wonder, and condemn the vanity of it too, with that reproach, " This man began to build, but was not able to finish * ! This has been the fate of that undertaking, and, I dare promise, will be of whosoever imagines (without the circumstances of extraordinary assistance, and no ordinary expence) to pursue the plan, erect, and finish the fabrick as it ought to be. But this is that which abortives the perfection of the most glorious and useful undertakings ; the unsatiable coveting to exhaust all that should or can be said upon every head. If such a one have any thing else to mind or do in the world, let me tell him, he thinks of building too late; and rarely find we any who care to superstruct upon the foun- dation of another, and whose ideas are alike. There ought therefore to be as many hands and subsidiaries to such a design (and those mas- ters too) as there are distinct parts of the whole (according to the sub- sequent table), that those who have the means and courage may (tho' they do not undertake the whole) finish a part at least, and in time unite their labours into one intire, compleat, and consummate work indeed. Of one or two of these, I attempted only a specimen in my " Sylva " and the "Kalendar;" imperfect, I say, because they are both capable of great improvements : it is not therefore to be expected. Let me use the words of an old and experienc'd gardiner-j-, " Cuncta me dicturum, quae vastitas ejus scientise contlneret, sed plurima ; nam illud in unius hominis prudentiam cadere non poterat. Neque enim est uUa disciplina aut ars, quae slngulari consummata sit ingenio. * Luke, ch. xiv. v. 30, f Columella, de Re Rustica, lib. 5. cap. 1. 5 A 730 May it then suffice aliqiiam partem tradidisse, and that I have done my endeavour. Inutilis olim Ne videar vixisse. Much more might I add upon this charming and fruitful subject (I mean, concerning gardening). But this is not the place to expatiate, deterr'd, as 1 have long since been, from so bold an enterprise as the fabrick I mention'd. I content my self then with an humble cottage, and a simple potagere, appendant to the Kalendar; which, treating only, and that briefly, of the culture of moderate gardens, nothing seems to me shou'd be more welcome and agreeable, than whilst the product of them is come into more request and use amongst us than heretofore (be- side what we call and distinguish by the name of fruit), I did annex some particular directions concerning Sallets. THE PLAN OF A ROYAL GARDEN, Describing and shewing the Amplitude and Extent of that Pari of Georgicks which belongs to Horticulture. — In Three Books. BOOK I. Chap. I. Of principles and elements in general. Chap. IL Of the four (vulgarly reputed) elements; fire, air, water, earth. Chap. IIL Of the celestial influences, and particularly of the sun, moon, and of the climates. Chap. IV. Of the four annual seasons. Chap. V. Of the natural mould and soil of a garden. Chap. VL Of composts, and stercoration, repastination, dressing and stir- ring the earth and mould of a garden. BOOK II. Chap. L A garden deriv'd and defin'd ; its dignity, distinction, and sorts. Chap. II. Of a gardiner, how to be qualify'd, regarded, and rewarded ; his habitation, cloathing, diet, under-workmen and assistants. Chap. III. Of the instruments belonging to a gardiner ; their various uses, and mechanical powers. 731 Chap. IV. Of the terms us'd and affected by gardiners. Chap. V. Of enclosing, fencing, platting, and disposing of the ground ; and of terraces, walks, allies, malls, bowling-greens, &c. Chap. VI. Of a seminary, nurseries ; and of propagating trees, plants, and flowers, planting and transplanting. Sec. Chap. VII. Of knots, parterres, compartiments, borders, banks, and em- bossments. Chap. VIII. Of groves, labyrinths, dedals, cabinets, cradles, close-walks, galleries, pavilions, porticos, lanterns, and other relievos ; of topiary and hortulan architecture. Chap. IX. Of fountains, jettos, cascades, rivulets, piscinas, canals, baths, and other natural and artificial water-works. Chap. X. Of rocks, grotts, cryptae, mounts, precipices, ventiducts, conser- vatories, of ice and snow, and other hortulan refreshments. Chap. XI. Of statues, busts, obelisks, columns, inscriptions, dials, vasas, perspectives, paintings, and other ornaments. Chap. XII. Of Gazon-theatres, amphitheatres, artificial echos, automata, and hydraulic musick. Chap. XIII. Of aviaries, apiaries, vivaries, insects, &c. Chap. XIV. Of verdures, perennial greens, and perpetual springs. Chap. XV. Of orangeries, oporothecas, hybernacula, stoves, and conserva- tories of tender plants and fruits, and how to order them. Chap. XVI. Of the coronary garden ; flowers and rare plants, how they are to be raised, governed, and improved ; and how the gardiner is to keep his register. Chap. XVII. Of the philosophical medical garden. Chap. XVIII. Of stupendous and wonderful plants. Chap. XIX. Of the hort-yard and potagere; and what fruit-trees, olitory and esculent plants, may be admitted into a garden of pleasure. Chap. XX. Of sallets. Chap. XXI. Of a vineyard, and directions concerning the making of wine and other vinous liquors, and of teas. Chap. XXII. Of watering, pruning, plashing, pallisading, nailing, clipping, mowing, rowling, weeding, cleansing, &c. Chap. XXIII. Of the enemies and infirmities to which gardens are ob- noxious, together with the remedies. Chap. XXIV. Of the gardiner's almanack, or halendarium hortense, direct- ing what he is to do monthly, and what fruits and flowers are in prime. 732 BOOK III. Chap. I. Of conserving, properating, retarding, multiplying, transmuting, and altering the species, forms, and (reputed) substantial qualities of plants, fruits, and flowers. Chap. II. Of the hortulan elaboratory ; and of distilling and extracting of waters, spirits, essences, salts, colours, resuscitation of plants, with other rare experiments, and an account of their virtues. Chap. III. Of composing the hortus hyemalis, and making books, of natu- ral, arid plants and flowers, with several ways of preserving them in their beauty. Chap. IV. Of painting of flowers, flowers enamell'd, silk, calicos, paper, wax, gums, pastes, horns, glass, shells, feathers, moss, pietra comensa, inlayings, embroyderies, carvings, and other artificial representations of them. Chap. V. Of crowns, chaplets, garlands, festoons, encarpa, flower-pots, nosegays, poesies, deckings, and other flowery pomps. Chap. VI. Of hortulan laws and privileges. Chap. VII. Of the hortulan study, and of a library, authors, and books as- sistant to it. Chap. VIII. Of hortulan entertainments, natural, divine, moral, and politi- cal ; with divers historical passages, and solemnities, to shew the riches, beauty, wonder, plenty, delight, and universal use of gardens. Chap. IX. Of garden burial. Chap. X. Of Paradise, and of the most famous gardens in the world, an- cient and modern. Chap. XI. The description of a villa. Chap. XII. The corollary and conclusion. Laudato ingentia rura, Exiguum colito. 733 A C E T A R I A. Sallets in general consist of certain esculent plants and herbs, im- prov'd by culture, industry, and art of the gard'ner ; or, as others say, they are a composition of edule plants and roots of several kinds, to be eaten raw or green, blanch'd or candled ; simple and per se, or inter- mingl'd with others according to the season. The boil'd, bak'd, pickl'd, or otherwise disguis'd, variously accommodated by the skilful cooks, to render them grateful to the more feminine palate, or herbs rather for the pot, &c. challenge not the name of sallet so properly here, tho' some- times mention'd ; and therefore. Those who criticize not so nicely upon the word, seem to distinguish the olera *, which were never eaten raw, from acetaria, which were never boil'd ; and so they derive the etymology of ohcs from olla, the pot. But others deduce it from oXog, comprehending the universal genus of the vegetable kingdom, as from ttocv jmnis, esteeming that he who had bread and herbs f was sufficiently bless'd with all a frugal man could need or desire : others again will have it ab olendo, i. e. crescendo, from its continual growth and springing up : so the younger Scaliger on Varro. But his father Julius extends it not so generally to all plants as to all the esculents, according to the text. " We call those olera (saysTheophrastus J) which are commonly eaten ;" in which sense it may be taken to include both boil'd and raw. Last of all, ab alendo. * Olera k frigidis distinct. See Spartianus in Pescennio. Salmas. in Jul. Capitolin. t Panis erat § prirais virides mortalibus herbse ; Quas tellus nullo sollicitante dabat. £t modo carpebant vivaci cespite gramen ; Nunc epulee tenera fronde cacumen erant. Ovid. Fastor. lib. iv. S95. X K»^oiI|^iSv yaj Xa;^ava tk irpoj th\ rjjuETsfav x^^'^^j TheOplirast. Plant. 1. vii, cap. 7. § Quoted incorrectly ; the original beginning, " Messis erant." 734 as having been the original and genuine food of all mankind from the creation *. A great deal more of this learned stuff were to be pick'd up from the cumini sectores, and Impertinently curious ; whilst as it concerns the business in hand, we are by sallet to understand a particular composition of certain crude and fresh herbs, such as usually are, or may safely be eaten with some acetous juice, oyl, salt, &c. to give them a grateful gust and vehicle, exclusive of the ipu%fa«' TpaTre^ut f, eaten without their due correctives, which the learned Salmasius J, and, indeed generally, the old physicians § affirm (and that truly) all crude and raw Xa^aya require to render them wholsome ; so as probably they were from hence, as Plinv thinks ||, call'd acetaria, and not (as Hermolaus and some others) occeptario ab accipieiido, nor from accedere, though so ready ^ at hand, and easily dress'd, requiring neither fire, cost, nor attendance, to boil, roast, and prepare them, as did flesh and other provisions ; from which, and other prerogatives, they were always in use. And hence indeed the more frugal Italians and French, to this day, accept and gather ogiii verdura, any thing almost that is green and tender, to the very tops of nettles ; so as every hedge affords a sallet (not unagreeable), season'd with its proper oxyhaphon of vinegar, salt, oyl, &c. which doubtless gives it both the relish and name of salad, ensalada** , as with us of sallet, from the sapidity, which renders not plants and herbs alone, bat men themselves, and their conversations, pleasant and agreeable. But of this enough, and perhaps too much ; least, while I write of salt and sallet, I appear myself insipid. I pass therefore to the ingredients, which we will call FURNITURE AND MATERIALS. The materials of sallets, which, together with the grosser olera, con- sist of roots, stalks, leaves, buds, flowers, &c. fruits (belonging to ano- * Gen. ch. i. v. 29. f Plutarch Sympos. + Salmas. in Solin. contra Hieron. Mercurialis. § Galen. 2 R. Aliment, cap. I. et Simp. Medic. Averroes, lib. v. coUoc. II Plin. lib. xix. c. 4. ^ Convictus faeilis, sine arte niensa. Mart. ep. 74. **■ "Atujov rpoipn)', which Suidas calls \a.xoi-^!>; olera quae cruda sumuntur ex aceto. Hai-duin. in loco. 735 ther class) would require a much ampler volume than would suit our Kalendar (to which this pretends to be an Appendix only), should we extend the following catalogue further than to a brief enumeration only of such herbaceous plants, oluscula, and smaller esculents, as are chiefly used in cold sallets, of whose culture we have treated there ; and as we gather them from the mother and genial bed, with a touch only of their qualities, for reasons hereafter given. 1. Alexanders, hipposelinum ; S. Smyrnium vulgare (much of the nature of persly) is moderately hot, and of a cleansing faculty, deob- structing, nourishing, and comforting the stomach. The gentle fresh sprouts, buds, and tops are to be chosen, and the stalks eaten in the spring; and when blanch'd, in winter likewise, with oyl, pepper, salt, &c. by themselves, or in composition. They make also an excellent vernal pottage. 2. Artichaux, cinara (carduus sativusj, hot and dry. The heads being slit in quarters first, eaten raw, with oyl, a little vinegar, salt, and pepper, gratefully recommend a glass of wine; Dr. Muffet says, at the end of meals. They are likewise, whilst tender and small, fried in fresh butter with persley : but then become a most delicate and excellent restorative, when full grown : they are boil'd the common way. The bottoms are also bak'd in pies, with marrow, dates, and other rich ingredients. In Italy they sometimes broil them, and as the scaly leaves open, baste them with fresh and sweet oyl, but with care extraordinary, for if a drop fall upon the coals, all is marr'd ; that hazard escap'd, they eat them with the juice of orange and sugar. The stalk is blanch'd in autumn, and the pith eaten raw or boil'd. The way of preserving them fresh all winter, is by separating the bot- toms from the leaves, and after parboiling, allowing to every bottom a small earthen glaz'd pot, burying it all over in fresh melted butter, as they do wild fowl, &c. ; or if more than one, in a larger pot, in the same bed and covering, layer upon layer. They are also preserv'd by stringing them on pack-thread, a clean paper being put between every bottom, to hinder them from touching- one another, and so hung up in a dry place. They are likewise pickl'd. 736 'Tis not very long since this noble thistle came first into Italy, iin- prov'd to this magnitude by culture ; and so rare in England, that they were commonly sold for crowns a piece : but what Carthage yearly spent In them (as Pliny computes the sum) amounted to sestertia sena millia, 30,000/. sterling. Note, That the Spanish cardon, a wild and smaller artichoak, with sharp-pointed leaves, and lesser head; the stalks being blanch'd and ten- der, are serv'd up a la j^oiverade (that is, with oyl, pepper, &c.), as the French term is. 3. Basil, ochnum (as haulm), imparts a grateful flavour, if not too strong, somewhat offensive to the eyes ; and therefore the tender tops to be very sparingly us'd in our sallet. 4. Baulm, melissa, baicm, hot and dry, cordial and exhilarating, sove- reign for the brain, strengthening the memory, and powerfully chasing away melancholy. The tender leaves are us'd in composition with other herbs ; and the sprigs fresh gather'd, put into wine, or other drinks, during the heat of summer, give it a marvellous quickness. This noble plant yields an incomparable wine, made as is that of cowslip-flowers. Beet, beta; of which there is both red, black, and white. The costa, or rib of the white beet (by the French call'd the chardj, being boil'd, melts, and eats like marrow. And the roots, especially of the red, cut into thin slices, boil'd, when cold, is of itself a grateful winter sallet ; or being mlngl'd with other oluscula, oyl, vinegar, salt, &c. 'Tls of qua- lity cold and moist, and naturally somewhat laxative: but however by the epigrammatist stll'd foolish and insipid, as innocentior qiiam olus (for so the learned Harduln* reads the place), 'tis by Dlphllus of old, and others since, preferr'd before cabbage, as of better nourishment. Mar- tial (not unlearn'd in the art of sallet) commends it with wine and pep- per : he names it m(\ee.A J'ahi'orum jjj'ajtdia -f, for its being so vulgar. But eaten with oyl and vinegar, as usually it is, no despicable sallet. There is a beet growing near the sea, which is the most delicate of all. The roots of the red beet, pared into thin slices and circles, are bv the French and Italians contrlv'd into curious figures to adorn their sallets. * Plin. Hist. Nat. lib. xix. cap. 8. f Epig I'b. xiii. 13. 737 6. Elite, hlitum, English Mercury, or (as our country house-wives call it) all-good. The gentle turio7ies and tops may be eaten as spara- gus, or sodden in pottage. There is both a white and red, much us'd in Spain and Italy ; but besides its humidity and detersive nature, 'tis insi- pid enough. 7. Borrage, borrago (gaudia semper ago), hot, and kindly moist, purifying the blood, is an exhilarating cordial, of a pleasant flavour : The tender leaves, and flowers especially, may be eaten in composition ; but above all, the sprigs in wine, like those of baum, are of known vertue to revive the hypochondriac, and chear the hard student. See Bugloss. 8. Brooklime, anagallis aquatica ; modei'ately hot and moist, preva- lent in the scorbute and stone. 9. Bugloss, buglossum ; in nature much like borrage, yet something more astringent. The flowers of both, with the intire plant, greatly restorative, being conserved : and for the rest, so much commended by Averroes, that for its effects, cherishing the spirits, justly call'd ewpliro- synxim. Nay, some will have it the nepenthes of Homer. But, indeed what we now call bugloss was not that of the ancients, but rather bor- rage, for the like virtue named corrago. Burnet. See Pimpinella. 10. Bndi?,,gemm(^,turiones; the first rudiments and tops of most sallet-plants, preferrable to all other less tender parts ; such as ashen- keys, broom-buds, hot and dry, retaining the vertue of capers, esteem'd to be very opening, and prevalent against the spleen and scurvy ; and being pickl'd, are sprinkl'd among the sallets, or eaten by themselves. 11. Cabbage, hrassica (and its several kinds), Pompey's beloved dish, so highly celebrated by old Cato*, Pythagoras, and Chrysippus the physician (as the only panacea), is not so generally magnify'd by the rest of doctors, as affording but a crass and melancholy juice ; yet loosening if but moderately boil'd ; if over-much, astringent, according to C. Celsus; and therefore seldom eaten raw, excepting by the Dutch. The cymce, or sprouts rather, of the cole are very delicate, so boil'd as to * De Re Rustica, cap. clvii. 5 B 738 retain their verdure and green colour. In raising this plant great care is to be had of the seed. The best comes from Denmark and Russia, especially the cauly-flower (anciently unknown), or from Aleppo. Of the French, the pancalih'e a la large coste, the white, large, and pon- derous are to be chosen ; and so the cauly-flower. After boiling, some steep them in milk, and seethe them again in beef-broth : of old they added a little nitre. The broccoli from Naples, perhaps the halmerida of Pliny (or Athenseus rather), capitata marina Sfjlorida, our sea-keele (the ancient crambe), and growing on our coast, are very delicate ; as are the savoys, commended for being not so rank, but agreeable to most palates, and of better nourishment. In general, cabbages are thought to allay fumes, and prevent intoxication. But some will have them noxious to the sight ; others impute it to the cauly-flower rather : but whilst the learned are not agreed about it, Theophrastus affirms the contrary, and Pliny commends the juice raw, with a little honey, for the moist and weeping eye, not the dry or dull. But, after all, cabbage ('tis confess'd) is greatly accus'd for lying undigested in the stomach, and provoking eructations ; which makes me wonder at the veneration we read the ancients had for them, calling them divine, and swearing ner hrassicam. 'Tis scarce an hundred years since we first had cabbages out of Holland, Sir Anth. Ashley*, of Wiburg St. Giles in Dorsetshire, being (as I am told) the first who planted them in England. 12. Cardon. See artichaux. 13. Carrots, dauci, ov pastinaca sativa ; temperately warm and dry, spicy ; the best are yellow, very nourishing. Let them be rais'd in ground naturally rich, but not too heavy. 14. Chervile, chcBrophtjllum,mi/rr]iis ; the sweet aromatick Spanish chervile, moderately hot and drv. The tender cimce, and tops, with other herbs, are never to be wanting in our sallets (as long as they may be had), being exceedingly wholsome and chearing the spirits: the roots * Ancestor of the Earls of Shaftesbury. He sat in several Parliaments, and was distinguished by the favour of Queen Elizabeth, who appointed him Secretary to her Council of War. He was knighted for his valour at the taking of Cadiz 1597, and sent home to give the Queen a relation of ir. He died January 13, 1618. 739 are also boil'd and eaten cold ; much commended for aged persons. This (as likewise spinach) is us'd in tarts, and serves alone for divers sauces. Cibbols. \ r- . J p. /-Vide onions, schcenoprasum. 15. Clary, horminnm, when tender not to be rejected, and in omlets, made up with cream, fried in sweet butter, and are eaten with sugar, juice of orange, or limon. 16. Cleavers, aparine; the tender winders, with young nettle-tops, are us'd in Lenten pottages. 17. Corn-sallet, valerianella ; loos'ning and refreshing. The tops and leaves are a sallet of themselves, seasonably eaten with other sallet- ing, the whole winter long, and early spring. The French call them salad de preter, for their being generally eaten in Lent. 18. Cowslips, paralysis. See flowers. 19. Cresses, nasticrtium, garden cresses ; to be monthly sown : but above all the Indian, moderately hot and aromatick, quicken the torpid spirits, and purge the brain, and are of singular effect against the scor- bute. Both the tender leaves, calices, capuchin capers, and flowers, are laudably mixed with the colder plants. The buds, being candy'd, are likewise us'd in strewings all winter. There is the nastur. hyberni- cuni commended also, and the vulgar water-cress, proper in the spring, all of the same nature, tho' of different degrees, and best for raw and cold stomachs, but nourish little. 20. Cucumber, cucumis ; tho' very cold and moist, the most approved sallet alone, or in composition, of all the vinaigrets, to sharpen the ap- petite, and cool the liver*, &c. if rightly prepar'd ; that is, by rectifying the vulgar mistake of altogether extracting the juice, in which it should rather be soak'd. Nor ought It to be over oyl'd, too much abating of its grateful acidity, and palling the taste, from a contrariety of particles. Let them therefore be pared, and cut into thin slices, with a clove or two of onion to correct the crudity, macerated in the juice, often turn'd, and moderately drain'd. Others prepare them, by shaking the slices be- tween two dishes, and dress them with very little oyl, well beaten, and • 'E^9ot, iocTiKvo;, iwoXos, aXuoffrof, oi;'f»iTwo{. Athen. 740 mingled with the juice of liraon, orange, or vinegar, salt, and pepper. Some again, and indeed the most approv'd, eat them as soon as they are cut, retaining their liquor, which being exhausted (by the former me- thod) have nothing remaining in them to help the concoction. Of old they boil'd* the cucumber, and paring off the rind, eat them with oyl, vinegar, and honey, sugar not being so well known. Lastly, the pulp in broth is greatly refreshing, and may be mingl'd in most sallets, with- out the least damage, contrary to the common opinion; it not being long since cucumber, however dress'd, was thought fit to be thrown away, being accounted little better than poyson. Tavernier tells us, that in the Levant, if a child cry for something to eat, they give it a raw cu- cumber instead of bread. The young ones may be boil'd In white wine. The smaller sort (known by the name of gerckems), murlated with the seeds of dill, and the mango pickle, are for the winter. 2L Daisy, hupthalmnm, ox-eye, or bellis-major. The young roots are frequently eaten by the Spaniards and Italians all the spring till June. 22. Dandelion, dens leonis, condrilla ; macerated in several waters, to extract the bitterness, tho' somewhat opening, is very wholesome, and little inferior to succory, endive, &c. The French country-people eat the roots ; and 'twas with this homely sallet the good-wife Hecate en- tertain'd Theseus. See Sowthistle. 23. Dock, oxylapathum, or sharp-pointed dock ; emollient, and tho' otherwise not for our sallet, the roots brewed in ale or beer, are excellent for the scorbute. Earth-nuts, bidbo castanum (found in divers places of Surrv, near Klnoston, and other parts), the rind par'd off, are eaten crude by rus- tics, with a little pepper ; but are best boil'd like other roots, or in pot- tage rather, and are sweet and nourishing. 24. Elder, samhucus ; the flowers infus'd in vinegar, grateful both to the stomach and taste ; attenuate thick and viscid humours ; and tho' the leaves are somewhat rank of smell, and so not commendable In sal- let, they are otherwise (as indeed is the Intlre shrub) of the most sove- reign vertue ; and the spring buds and tender leaves, excellently whol- some in pottage at that season of the year. See Flowers. * Cucumis elixus delicatior, innocentior. .'Vthenseus. 741 25. Endive, endivium, hityhum sativum ; the largest, whitest, and tenderest leaves best boil'd, and less crude. It is naturally cold, profit- able for hot stomachs ; incisive, and opening obstructions of the liver. The curled is more delicate, being eaten alone, or in composition, with the usual intinctus. It is also excellent, being boil'd ; the middle part of the blanch'd-stalk separated, eats firm, and the ampler leaves by many preferr'd before lettuce. See Succory. Eschalot. See Onions. 26. VennQX^fceniculum; the sweetest of Bolognia ; aromatick, hot, and dry ; expels wind, sharpens the sight, and recreates the brain ; espe- cially the tender umbella and seed-pods. The stalks are to be peel'd when young, and then dress'd like sellery. The tender tufts and leaves emerging, being minc'd, are eaten alone with vinegar, or oyl, and pep- per, and, to correct the colder materials, enter properly into composi- tion. The Italians eat the blanch'd stalk (which they call cartuccij aU winter long. There is a very small green-worm which sometimes lodges in the stem of this plant, which is to be taken out, as the red one in that of sellery. 27. V\owev% Jiores ; chiefly of the aromatick esculents and plants are preferable, as generally endow'd with the vertues of their simples, in a more intense degree, and may therefore be eaten alone in their proper vehicles, or composition with other salleting, sprinkl'd among them ; but give a more palatable relish, being infused in vinegar; especially those of the clove-gillyflo\ver, elder, orange, cowslip, rose-mary, arch- angel, sage, nasturtium indicum, &c. Some of them are plckl'd, and divers of them make also very pleasant and wholsome theas, as do like- wise the wild time, bugloss, mint, &c. 28. Garlick, allium ; dry towards excess ; and tho' both by Spaniards and Italians, and the more southern people, familiarly eaten, with almost every thing, and esteem'd of such singular vertue to help con- coction, and thought a charm against all infection and poyson (by which it has obtain'd the name of the country-man's theriacle), we yet think it more proper for our northern rustics, especially living in uliginous and moist places, or such as use the sea ; whilst we absolutely forbid it entrance into our sallets bv reason of its intolerable rankness, and which 742 made it so detested of old, that the eating of It was (as we read) part of the punishment for such as had committed the horrldest crimes. To be sure, 'tis not for ladles palats, nor those who court them, farther than to permit a light touch on the dish, with a clove thereof, much better supply'd by the gentler roccombo. Note, That In Spain they sometimes eat It boll'd, whlcli taming Its fierceness, turns It into nourishment, or rather medicine. Glnny-pepper, capsicum. See Pepper. 29. Goats-beard, tragopogon. The root is excellent even in sallet, and very nutritive, exceeding profitable for the breast, and may be stew'd and dress'd as scornozera. 30. Hops, lupulus; hot and moist, rather medicinal than fit for sallet, the buds and young tendrels excepted, which may be eaten raw, but more conveniently being boll'd, and cold like asparagus. They are diu- retic ; depurate the blood, and open obstructions. 31. Hyssoi), hi/ ssopus ; thymus capitatus creticus, majoran, mary- gold, &c. as all hot spicy aromatlcs (commonly growing in kitchin- gardens) are of faculty to comfort and strengthen ; prevalent against melancholy and phlegm. Plants, like these, going under the name of pot-herbs, are much more proper for broths and decoctions than the ten- der sallet : yet the tops and flowers, reduc'd to powder, are by some reserv'd for strewlngs upon the colder ingredients, communicating no ungrateful fragraiicy. 32. Jack-by-the-hedge, alliaria, or sauce-alone ; has many medicinal properties, and is eaten as other sallets, especially by country people, growing wild under their banks and hedges. 33. Leeks, and clbbols, j)oru7n ; hot, and of vertue prolifick ; since Latona, the mother of Apollo, long'd after them. The Welch, who eat them much, are observM to be very fruitful. They are also friendly to the lungs and stomach, being sod in milk ; a few therefore of the slender and green summltles, a little shred, do not amiss in composition. See Onions. 34. Lettuce, lactuca ; tho' by metaphor call'd mortuorum cibi * (to * Eubulus. 743 say nothing of Adonis * and his sad mistriss), by reason of its soporife- rous quaHty, ever was, and still continues the principal foundation of the universal tribe of sallets, which is to cool and refresh, besides its other properties ; and therefore in such high esteem with the ancients, that divers of the Valerian family dignify'd and enobled their name with that of lactucinii. It is indeed of nature more cold and moist than any of the rest; yet less astringent, and so harmless that it may safely be eaten raw in fevers ; for it allays heat, bridles choler, extinguishes thirst, excites appetite, kindly nourishes, and, above all, represses vapours, conciliates sleep, mitigates pain ; besides the effect it has upon the morals, temperance, and chastity. Galen (whose beloved sallet it was), from its pinguid, subdulcid, and agreeable nature, says it breeds the most laudable blood. No marvel then that they were by the ancients called sana, by way of eminency, and so highly valu'd by the great Augustus -j-, that attributing his recovery of a dangerous sickness to them, 'tis reported he erected a statue and built an altar to this noble plant. And that the most abste- mious and excellent Emperor Tacitus % (spending almost nothing at his frugal table in other dainties) was yet so great a friend to lettuce, that he was us'd to say of his prodigality, somnum se mercari ilia swnptxis effusione. How it was celebrated by Galen we have heard ; how he us'd it he tells himself, namely, beginning with lettuce in his younger days, and concluding with it when he grew old, and that to his great advantage. In a word, we meet with nothing among all our crude ma- terials and sallet store so proper to mingle with any of the rest, nor so wholsome to be eaten alone, or in composition, moderately, and with the usual oxelseum of vinegar, pepper, and oyl, which last does not so per- fectlv agree with the alphange, to which the juice of orange, or limon and sugar, is more desirable. Aristoxenus is reported to have irrigated his lettuce-beds with an oinomelite, or mixture of wine and honey : * In lactuca occuUatum k Venere Adonin cecinit Callimachus, quod allegoricfe interpretalus Athenseus illuc referendum putat, quod in Venerem hebetiores fint lactucis vescentes assidue. t Apud Sueton. ; Vopiscus Tacit. For the rest, both of the kinds and vcrtues of lettuce, see Plin. H, Nat. 1. six. c. S. and xx. c. 7. Fernel, &c. 744 and certainly 'tis not for nothing that our garden-lovers and brothers of the sallet have been so exceedingly industrious to cultivate this noble plant, and multiply its species ; for, to name a few in present use, we have the alphange of Montpelier (crisp and delicate), the Arabic, Am- bervelleres, Belgrade, cabbage, Capuchin, coss-lettuce, curl'd, the Ge- noa (lasting all the winter), the imperial, lambs or agnine, and lobbs or lop-lettuces, the French minion (a dwarf kind), the oak-leaf, passion, Roman, shell, and Silesian (hard and crimp), esteemed of the best and rarest, with divers more. And here let it be noted, that besides three or four sorts of this plant, and some few of the rest, there was within our remembrance rarely any other salletting serv'd up to the best tables ; with unblanch'd endive, succory, purselan (and indeed little other variety), sugar and vinegar being the constant vehicles, without oyl ; but now sugar is almost wholly banlsh'd from all, except the more effe- minate palates, as too much palling, and taking from the grateful acid now in use, tho' otherwise not totally to be reproved. Lettuce, boil'd and condited, is sometimes spoken of. 35. Llmon, limonia, citrea 7nala ; exceedingly refreshing, cordial, &c. ; the pulp being blended with the juice, secluding the over-sweet or bitter. See Orange. 36. Mallow, malva; the curl'd, emollient and friendly to the ventri- cle, and so rather medicinal : yet may the tops, well boil'd, be admitted, and the rest (tho' out of use at present) was taken by the poets for all sallets in general. Pythagoras held malvcB folium sanctissimiim ; and we find Epimenldes in Plato* at his mallows and asphodel; and indeed it was of old the first dish at table. The Romans had it also in deliciis, MalvcB saluhres coTpori f , approved by Galen 'I and Dlsoscorldes § ; namely, the garden-mallow, by others the wild ; but I think both proper rather for the pot than sallet. Nonius supposes the tall rosea, arbores- cent holl-hocks, that bears the broad flower, for the best, and very laxa- tive II ; but, by reason of their clamminess and lentor, banished from our * De Legib. f Hor.eiiod.il. J De Simp. Medic. 1. vii. § Lib. ii. cap 3. II Exoneraturas ventiem rnihi viliica malvas Attulit, et varias, tjuas iiabel hortus, opes. — Mart. lib. x. -JS. 745 sallet, tho' by some commended and eaten with oyl and vinegar, and some with butter. Mercury, bonus Henricus, English mercury, or lapat/ium unctuosmn. See Blitum. 37. Melon, melo; to have been reckon'd rather among fruits; and tho' an usual ingredient in our sallet, yet for its transcendent delicacy and flavor, cooling and exhilarating nature (if sweet, dry, weighty, and well- fed), not only superior to all the gourd-kind, but paragon with the no- blest productions of the garden. Jos. Scallger and Casaubon think our melon unknown to the ancients (which others contradict), as yet under the name of cucumbers : but he who reads how artificially they were cultivated, rais'd under glasses, and expos'd to the hot sun (for Tibe- rius), cannot well doubt of their being the same with ours. There is also a winter-melon, large, and with black seeds, exceedingly cooling, brought us from abroad, and the hotter climates, where they drink water after eating melons ; but in the colder (after all dispute) wine is judg'd the better. That it has indeed by some been accus'd as apt to corrupt in the stomach (as do all things else eaten in excess) is not deny'd ; but a perfect good melon is certainly as harmless a fruit as any whatsoever, and may safely be mingled with sallet, in pulp or slices, or more properly eaten by it self, with a little salt and pepper ; for a melon which requires sugar to commend it wants of perfection. Note, That this fruit was very rarely cultivated in England so as to bring it to maturity till Sir George Gardner came out of Spain, I my self remembering when an ordinary melon would have been sold for five or six shillings. The small unripe fruit, when the others are past, may be pickl'd with mango, and are very delicate. 38. Mint, mentha ; the angustifolia spicata, spear-mint ; dry and warm, very fragrant, a little press'd, is friendly to the weak stomach, and powerful against all nervous crudities. The gentler tons of the And our sweet Poet : ■ Nulla est humanior herba. Nulla magis suavi commoditate bona est, Omnia tam jilacliib regerat, blandeque relaxat, EmoUitque vias, nee sinit esse rudes. — Cowley, Plan. 1. 4. 5c 746 orange-mint enter well into our composition, or are grateful alone (as are also the other sorts), with the juice of orange and a little sugar. 39. Mushrooms, yii??^^' ; by the orator* call'd terrce, by Porphyry deorumJiUi, without seed (as produc'd by the midwifry of autumnal thunder-storms, portending the mischief they cause) ; by the French champignons, with all the species of the boletus, &:c. for being, as some hold, neither root, herb, flower, nor fruit, nor to be eaten crude, should be therefore banish'd entry into our sallet, were I to order the composi- tion, however so highly contended for by many, as the very principal and top of all the rest; whilst I think them tolerable only (at least in this climate), if, being fresh and skilfully chosen, they are accommo- dated with the nicest care and circumspection ; generally reported to have something malignant and noxious m them : nor without cause, from the many sad examples, fiequent mischiefs, and funest accidents they have produc'd, not only to particular persons, but to whole fami- lies. Exalted indeed they were to the second course of the Caesarian tables, with the noble title fioufjca, 9euv, a dainty fit for the gods alone ; to whom they sent the Emperor Claudius -j", as they have many since, to the other world. But he that reads how Seneca "^ deplores his lost friend, that brave commander Annaeus Serenus, and several other gal- lant persons with him, who all of them perish'd at the same repast, would be apt to ask with the naturalist § (speaking of this suspicious dainty), Quce voluptas tanta ancipitis cibi? And who indeed would ha- zard it, so true is that of the Poet, — He that eats mushrooms many times nil amplius edit, eats no more perhaps all his life after. What other deterring epithets are given for our caution, jSo^?? -n-viyoevToc f^vx'^Tuv, heavy and choaking (Athenaeus reporting of the Poet Euripides finding a woman and her three children Strang! d by eating of them), one would think sufficient warnine:. Among these comes in the fungus reticidaris, to be found about London, as at Fulham and other places; whilst at no small charge we send for them into France : as we also do for trufles, pig-nuts, and other * Cic. ad Allic. f Suetoii. in Vit. CI;iu(lian. J Sen. Ej). Ixiii. § Plin. Nat. Hist. 1. xxii. c. 23. 747 subterraneous tubera, which in Italy they fry in oyl, and eat with pep- per. They are commonly discovered by a Nasute swine, purposely brought up; being of a chesnut colour, and heady smell, and not seldom found in England, particularly in a park of my Lord Cullen's, at Rush- ton in Northamptonshire *, and doubtless in other places too, were they sought after. How these rank and provocative excrescences are to be treated -f- (of themselves insipid enough, and only famous for their kindly taking any pickle or conditure), that they may do the less mis- chief, we might here set down. But since there be so many ways of dressing them, that I can encourage none to use them, for reasons given (besides that they do not at all concern our safer and innocent sallet fur- niture), I forbear it; and refer those who long after this beloved ragout, and other voluptuaria venena (as Seneca calls them), to what our learned Dr. Martin Lister says ^ of the many venomous insects har- bouring and corrupting in a new found-out species of mushroms had lately in deliciis. Those, in the mean time, which are esteemed best, and less pernicious (of which see the Appendix), are such as rise in rich, airy, and dry pasture-grounds §, growing on the staff or pedicule of about an Inch thick and high; moderately swelling (target-like), round and firm, being underneath of a pale, safFronish hue, curiously radiated in parallel lines and edges, which becoming either yellow, orange, or black, are to be rejected. But besides what the harvest-months pro- duce, they are likewise rais'd artificially ||; as at Naples, in their wine- cellars, upon an heap of rank earth, heaped upon a certain supposed stone, but in truth (as the curious and noble Peiresk^ tells us he found to be) nothing but an heap of old fungus's, reduc'd and compacted to a Stony hardness, upon which they lay earth, and sprinkle it with warm water In which mushroms have been steeped : and in France, by making * See Philos. Trans, vol. xvii. num. 202. art. 4, by Tancred Robinson, M. D. f Apitius, lib, vii. cap. 13. J Philos. Transact, vol. vii. num. 89. p. 5116". § Pratensibus optima fungis Natura est : aliis male creditur. — Hor. Sat. lib. ii. sat. 4. II Lord Bacon's Nat. Hist. cent. vii. 547, 548, &c. ^ Gassendus, in Life of Peiiesk, book iv. octavo, 1657, translp.ted from the Latin by VVm. Rand, and dedicated " to the ingenious and learned gentleman, the worshipful John Evelyn, es- quire." lladerus Mart. lib. iii. epig. 60. in ponlicmn, says, within four days. 748 an hot bed of asses dung, and when the heat is in temper, watering it (as above) well impregnated with the parings and ofFals of refuse fun- gus's; and such a bed will last two or three years; and sometimes our common melon-beds afford them, besides other experiments. 40. Mustard, sma^z; exceeding hot and mordicant, not only in the seed but leaf also ; especially in seedling young plants, like those of radishes (newly peeping out of the bed), is of incomparal)le effect to quicken and revive the spirits ; strengthening the memory, expelling heaviness, preventing the vertiginous palsie, and is a laudable cephalick. Besides, it is an approv'd antiscorbutick ; aids concoction, cuts and dis- sipates phlegmatick humours. In short 'tis the most noble embamma ; and so necessary an ingredient to all cold and raw salleting, that it is very rarely, if at all, to be left out. In Italv, in making mustard, they mingle limon and orange peel with the seeds. How the best is made, see hereafter. Nasturtium Indicum. See Cresses. 41. Nettles, urtica ; hot, dry, diuretic, solvent; purifies the blood. The buds, and very tender cimoe, a little bruised, are by some eaten raw, by others boil'd, especially in spring-pottage, with other herbs. 42. Onion, cepa, jwrrum ; the best are such as are brought us out ot Spain, whence they of St. Omers had them, and some that have weigh'il eight pounds. Choose therefore the large, round, and thin skinn'd. Being eaten crude and alone, with oyl, vinegar, and pepper, we own them in sallet not so hot as garlick, nor at all so rank : boil'd, they give a kindly relish, raise appetite, corroborate the stomach, cut phlegm, and profit the asthmatical ; but eaten in excess, are said to offend the head and eyes, unless edulcorated with a gentle maceration. In the mean time, as to their being noxious to the sight, is imputable only to the vapour rising from the raw onion, when peeled, which some commend for its purging and quickning that sense. How they are us'd in pot- tage, boil'd in milk, stew'd, &c. concerns the kitchin. In our cold sal- let we supply them with the porriim sectile tops of leeks, and eschalots fascaloniaj, of gust more exalted, yet not to the degree of garlick; or (by what of later use is much preferr'd) with a seed or two of raccombo, of a yet milder and delicate nature, which, by rubbing the dish only, 749 imparts its vertue agreeably enough. In Italy they frequently make a sallet of scallions, elves, and chibbols only, season'd with oyl and pep- per ; and an honest, laborious country-man, with good bread, salt, and a little parsley, will make a contented meal with a roasted onion. How this noble bulb was deified in Egypt * we are told, and that whilst they were building the pyramids there was spent in this root f ninety tun of gold among the workmen. So luscious and tempting it seems thev were, that as whole nations have subsisted on them alone, so the Israel- ites were ready to return to slavery and brick- making for the love of them. Indeed, Hecamedes we find presents them to Patroclus, in Ho- mer, as a regalo ; but certainly we are either mistaken in the species (which some will have to be melons), or use poetick licence when we so highly magnify them. 43. Orach, ati'iplex; is cooling, and allays thepitiiit humor. Being set over the fire, neither this, nor lettuce, needs any other water than their own moisture to boil them in, without ex])ressIon. The tender leaves are mingl'd witii other cold salletting, but 'tis better in pottage. See Blitum. 44. Orange, arantice (^nialum aureumj ; moderately dry, cooling, and incisive; sharpens appetite, exceedingly refreshes, and resists putre- faction : we speak of the sub-acid, the sweet and bitter orange being of no use in our sallet. The Union is somewhat more acute, cooling and extinguishing thirst, of all the o|u'/3a.ila,i Tana, xara erries, &c. as of singular vertue. Nor here should I omit (the mentioning at least of) saffron, which the German housewives have a way of forming into balls, by mingling it with a little honey, which, throughly dried, they reduce to powder, and sprinkle it over their sallets for a noble cordial. Those of Spain and Italy, we know, generally make use of this flower, mingling its golden tincture with almost every thing they eat ; but its being so apt to prevail above every thing with which 'tis blended, we little incourage its ad- mittance into our sallet. 768 VII. That there he the yolks of fresh and new-laid eggs, boil'd mo- derately hard, to he mlngl'd and mash'd with the mustard, oyl, and vinegar; and part to cut into quarters, and eat with the herbs. VIII. That the knife with which the sallet herbs are cut, accord- ing to the super-curious (especially oranges, limons, &c.), he of silver, and by no means of steel, which all acids are apt to corrode, and retain a metalic relish of. IX. Ninthly and lastly, that the saladiere (sallet-dishes), be of por- celane, or of the Holland delft-ware ; neither too deep nor shallow, ac- cording to the quantity of the sallet ingredients ; pewter, or even silver, not at all so well agreeing with oyl and vinegar, which leave their seve- ral tinctures. And note, that there ought to be one of the dishes in which to beat and mingle the liquid vehicles ; and a second to receive the crude herbs in, upon which they are to be pour'd ; and then with a fork and spoon kept continually stirr'd, till all the furniture be equally moisten'd. Some, who are husbands of their oyl, pour at first the oyl alone, as more apt to communicate and diffuse its slipperiness, than when it is mingled and beaten with the acids, which they pour on last of all ; and 'tis incredible how small a quantity of oyl (in this quality like the gilding of wyer) is sufficient to imbue a very plentiful assembly of sallet-herbs. The sallet-gatherer likewise should be provided with a light and neatly made withy Dutch basket, divided into several partitions. Thus instructed and knowing in the apparatus, the species, propor- tions, and manner of dressing, according to the several seasons, you have in the following table. It being one of the inquiries of the noble Mr. Boyle *, what herbs were proper and fit to make sallets with, and how best to order them ? we have here (by the assistance of Mr. London, his Majesty's jjrincipal gardner) reduc'd them to a competent number, not exceeding thirty- five, but which may be vary'd and inlarg'd, by taking-in, or leaving out, any other sallet-plant mention'd in the foregoing list, under these three or four heads. * Philosoph. Transact, vol. III. num. xl. p. 799. 769 But all these sorts are not to be had at the very same tune, and there- fore we have divided them into the Quarterly Seasons, each containing and lasting three months. Note, That by parts is to be understood a piigil ; which is no more than one does usually take up between the thumb and the two next ^n- ^y fascicule a reasonable full grip, or handful. gers Species. Ordering and Culture. Blanch'd. 1. Endive, 2. Cichory, 3. Sellery, 4. Sweet-fennel, 5. llampions, 6. Roman ^ Tied-up to blanch. Earth'd-up. • Tied-up to blanch. a SiTesian ^Lettuce, <^ y;,,, ^^^^^ „p. 9. Cabbage J V, Pome and blanch of themselves. Green Unblanch'd. 10. Lob-lettuce, 11. Corn-Sallet, J 2. Purslane, 13. Cresses, broad, 14. Spinach, curl'd, 15. Sorrel, French, 16. Sorrel, Greenland, 17. Hadish, IS. Cresses, 19. Turnep, 20. Mustard, 21. Scurvy-grass, 22. Chervil, 23. Burnet, 24. Rocket, Spanish, 25. Persly, 26. Tarragon, 27. Mints, 28. Sampler, 29. Balm, 30. Sage, Red, 31. Slialots, 32. Cives and Onion, 33. Nasturtium, Indian, 34. Rampion, Belgrade, 35. Trip-niadanie, > Leaves, all of a middling size. i Seed-leaves, and the ne.\t to them. 7 The fine young leaves only, with the first 5 shoots. Only the tender young leaves. The seed-leaves, .nnd those only ne.xt them. I The seed-k'aves only. v.The young leaves immediately after (he j seedlings. [ The tender shoots and tops. 5 The young tender leaves and shoots. < The tender young leaves. The flowers and bud-flowers. < The seed-leaves and young tops. 5 F 770 Month. Ordering and Culture. Species. Proportion. Montli. Ordering and Culture. Species. Proportion. Jan. Feb. fRampions, flO") T,, ■ . . Endive, I 2 ,> ^ • Blanch a, J a J t: y Roots in ^^^^f"'-^- I FenneUweet, I 10 ["""^ber. LSellery, L 4j Lamh-lettuce, T , ■, c u F 1 1 .. (• .\pu£;ilofeath Lob-IettucCj J ^ ^ > Three parts ea. and March. Green and un- blanch'd. Of each one part. Two parts. Radish, Cresses, Turneps, Mustard Seed- lings, Scurvy-grass, , Spinach, Sorrel, Green- land, Sorrel, French, . ^ ^ „ f,, ',, ' >One part of ea Chervil), sweet, j ^ Burnet, j Rocket, J Tarragon, Balm, Mint, Sampler, Shalots, Gives, Cabbage, Win^ ter. ("Twenty large L leaves. }One small part of each. I Very few. TTwo pugils or < small hand- l. fuls. April, May, and Blanch'd Green herbs un- blanch'd. Note, That the _ young fLop, I Silesian <^ winter I Roman (_ winter Radishes, Cresses, •^ Purselan, Of each a pugil. Sorrel, French, Sampler, Three parts. Two parts. fasciat, or retty full gripe. Two parts. One part. p fasc < pret I gnr June. < "seedling leaves of Orange & Limon may all these monthsbe mingled j with the LSallct. "Onions,young, Six parts. Sage-tops, red. Two parts. Persley, ■) Cresses, Indian, I Lettuce, Bel- I Of each one grade, f part Trip-madame, j Chervil, sweet J Burnet, Two parts. July, Aug. and Sept. < "Blanch'd, and may be eaten by them- selveswith some Nas- turtium- flowers. Let- Let- Green herbs by them- selves, or niingl d with the .blanch'd. ("Silesian I tuce, ) Roman tuce, Cress, .Cabbage, Cresses, Nasturtium, Purslane, Lop-lettuce, Belgrade, or Crumpen-let tuce. Tarragon, Sorrel, French Burnet, .Trip-madame, "I One whole Let- J tuce. > Two parts. Four parts. >Two parts. I One part. Two parts. ■}• One part. 1,1 Two parts of / each. One part. Oct. Nov. and Decem. Blanch'd Endive, Sellery, < ("Two if large, I four if small, stalk and part of the root and tenderest leaves. •I An handful of ,j each. Three parts. Two parts. Green Lop-letluce, Lambs-lettuce, Radish, .Cresses, pTurneps, Mustard Seed i lings, [ Cresses, broad, "1 Two parts (.Spinach, j each. ■} One part of ea. of 771 FURTHER DIRECTIONS CONCERNING THE PROPER SEASONS FOR THE GATHERING, COMPOSING, AND DRESSING OF A SALLET. And first, as to the season, both plants and roots are then properly to be gather'd, and hi prhne when most they abound wltb juice and in vigour. Some in the spring, or a little anticipating it before they blossom, or are in full flower. Some in the autumnal months ; which later season many preferr, the sap of the herb, tho' not in such exu- berance, yet as being then better concocted, and so render'd fit for sal- leting, 'till the spring begins afresh to put forth new and tender shoots and leaves. This, indeed, as to the root, newly taken out of the ground is true ; and therefore should such have their germination stopt the sooner. The approaching and prevailing cold, both maturing and impregnating them ; as does heat the contrary, which now would but exhaust them. But for those other esculents and herbs imploy'd in our composition of sal- lets, the early spring, and ensuing months (till they begin to mount, and prepare to seed) is certainly the most natural, and kindly season to collect and accommodate them for the table. Let none then consult Culpeper, or the figure-Jlivgers, to inform them when the governing planet is in its exaltation ; but look upon the plants themselves, and judge of their vertues by their own complexions. Moreover, in gathering, respect is to be had to their proportions, as provided for in the Table under that head, be the quality whatsoever. For tho' there is, indeed, nothing more wholsome than lettuce and mustard for the head and eyes ; yet either of them eaten in excess, were highly prejudicial to them both. Too much of the first extreamly de- bilitating and weakning the ventricle, and hastning the further decay of sickly teeth : and of the second, the optic nerves, and sight itself; the like may be said of all the rest. I conceive, therefore, a prudent person, well acquainted with the nature and properties of sallet-herbs, &c. to be both the fittest gatherer and composer too ; which yet will 77-2 require no great cunning, after once he is acquainted with our table and catalogue. We purposely, and in transitu only, take notice here of the pickl'd, muriated, or otherwise prepared herbs ; excepting some such plants, and proportions of them, as are of hard digestion, and not fit to be eaten altogether crude (of which in the Appendix), and among which I reckon ash-keys, broom-buds and pods, haricos, gurkems, olives, capers, the buds and seeds of nasturtia, young wall nuts, pine-apples, eringo, cher- ries, cornelians, berberries, &c. together with several stalks, roots, and fruits ; ordinary pot-herbs, anis, cistus hortorum, horminum, pulegium, Satureia, thyme ; the intire family of pulse and legumena ; or other sauces, pies, tarts, omlets, tansie, farces, &c. condites and preserves with sugar, by the hand of ladies ; tho' they are all of them the genuine production of the garden, and mention'd in our kalendar, together with their culture ; whilst we confine our selves to such plants and esculenta as we find at hand ; delight our selves to gather, and are easily prepar'd for an extemporary collation, or to usher in and accompany other (more solid tho' haplv not more agreeable) dishes, is the custom. But there now starts up a question, whether it were better, or more proper, to begin with sallets, or end and conclude with them ? Some think the harder meats should first be eaten for better concoction ; others, those of easiest digestion, to make wav and prevent obstruction ; and this makes for our sallets, horarii, and fugaces fructus (as they call 'em), to be eaten first of all, as agreeable to the general opinion of the great Hippocrates, and Galen, and of Celsus before him. And therefore the French do well to begin with their herbaceous pottage, and for the cruder, a reason is given : Prima tibi dabitur ventri lactuca movendo Utilis, & Poris fila resecta suis *. And tho' this custom came in about Domitian's time -j^, o f^ev u^kuHoi, they anciently did quite the contrary, Grataque nobilium lactuca ciborum ^. * Mart. Epig. lib. xi. 39. t Athen. 1. '■i. Of which change of diet, see Plut. iv. Sympos 9. Plinii, Epist. I. ad Eretrium. + Virg. Moreta 773 But of later times, they were constant at the ante-ccenia, eating plen- tifully of sallet, especially of lettuce, and more refrigerating herhs. Nor without cause. For drinking liberally, they were found to expell and allay the fumes and vapors of the genial compotation, the spirituous liquor gently conciliating sleep. Besides, that being of a crude nature, more dispos'd and apt to fluctuate, corrupt, and disturb a surcharg'd stomach, they thought convenient to begin with sallets, and innovate the ancient usage. Nam lactuca innatat acri Post vinum stomacho * For if on drinking wine you lettuce eat, It floats upon the stomach The Spaniards, notwithstanding, eat but sparingly of herbs at dinner, especially lettuce, beginning with fruit, even before the olio and hot- meats come to the table ; drinking their wine pure, and eating the best bread in the world ; so as it seems the question still remains undecided with them, Claudere quas coenas lactuca solebat avorum. Die mihi, cur nostras inchoat ilia dapes ? -{- The sallet, which of old came in at last. Why now with it begin we our repast ? And now since we mention'd fruit, there rises another scruple : Whether apples, pears, abricots, cherries, plums, and other tree, and ort-yard-fruit, are to be reckon'd among salleting; and when likewise most seasonably to be eaten ? But as none of these do properly belong- to our catalogue of herbs and plants, to which this discourse is confin'd (besides what we may occasionally speak of hereafter), there is a very useful treatise J on that subject already publish'd. We hasten then in the next place to the dressing and composing of our sallet. For by this * Hor. Sat. lib. ii. Sat. 4. f Mart. Epigr. lib. xiii. Ep. 14. X Concerning the use of fruit (besides many others) whether best to be eaten before or after meals? published by a physician of Rochclle, and render'd out of French into English. Printed by T. Basoet, in Fleet-street. 774 time, our scholar may long to see the rules reduc'd to practice, and re- fresh himself with what he finds growing among his own lactuceta, and other beds of the kitchin-garden. DRESSING. I am not ambitious of being thought an excellent cook, or of those who set up and value themselves for their skill in sauces; such as was Mithacus a culinary philosopher, and other eriulitce gules, who read lectures of hautu-outs, like the Archestratus in Athenaeus. Tho' after what we find the heroes did of old, and see them chining out the slaugh- ter'd ox, dressing the meat, and do the offices of both cook and butcher, (for so Homer * represents Achilles himself, and tiie rest of those illus- trious Greeks) I say, after this, let none reproach our sallet-dresser, or disdain so clean, innocent, sweet, and natural a quality ; compar'd with the shambles, filth, and nidor, blood and cruelty; whilst all the world were eaters and composers of sallets in Its best and brightest age. The ingredients therefore gather'd and proportion'd, as above ; let the endive have all its outside leaves stripp'd off, slicing in the white. In like manner the sellery is also to have the hollow green stem or stalk trimm'd and divided ; slicing in the blanched part, and cutting tne root into four equal parts. Lettuce, cresses, radish, &;c. (as was directed) must be exquisitely pick'd, cleans'd, wash'd, and put into the strainer ; swing'd, and shaken gently, and, if you please, separately, or all together ; because some like not so well the blanch'd and bitter herbs, if eaten with the rest. Others mingle endive succory, and ramplons, without distinction, and generally eat sellery by it self, as also sweet fennel. From April till September (and during all the hot months) may Guinny-pepper and horse-radish be left out ; and therefore we only men- tion them in the dressing, which should be in this manner : Your herbs being handsomly parcell'd, and spread on a clean napkin before you, are to be mlngl'd together in one of the earthen glaz'd dishes. Then, for the Oxoleon ; take of clear, and perfectly good oyl-olive., three * Achilles, Patroclus, Automedon. Iliad i.\. et alibi. r75 parts ; of sharpest vinegar (^sweetest of all condiments *), Union, or juice of orange, one part; and therein let steep some slices of horse- radish, with a little salt. Some in a separate vinegar, gently bruise a pod of Guinny-pepper, straining both the vinegars apart, to make use of either, or one alone, or of both, as they best like; then add as much Tewkesbury, or other dry mustard grated, as will lie upon an half-crown piece. Beat and mingle all these very well together; but pour not on the oyl and vinegar 'till immediately before the sallet Is ready to be eaten ; and then with the yolk of two new-laid eggs (boyl'd and pre- par'd, as before is taught) squash and bruise them all into mash with a spoon ; and lastly, pour It all upon the herbs, stirring and mingling them 'till they are well and throughly imbib'd ; not forgetting the sprinkling of aromatlcks, and such flowers as we have already men- tioned. If you think fit, and garnishing the dish with the thin slices of horse-radish, red beet, berberries, &c. Note, That the liquids may be made more or less acid, as is most agreeable to your taste. These rules and prescriptions duly observ'd, you have a sallet (^for a table of six or eight persons) dress'd and accommodated, ^e- cundum artem. For, as the -f- proverb has it, Ou uroiVToq ccvopog igtv a^Tutrat KaXug. Non est cujusvis rect^ condire. And now, after all we have advanc'd in favour of the herbaceous diet, there still emerges a thli'd inquiry ; namely. Whether the use of crude herbs and plants are so wholesom as is pretended } What opinion the prince of physicians had of them, we shall see hereafter ; as also what the sacred Records of elder times seem to Infer, before there were any flesh-shambles in the world ; together with the reports of such as are often conversant among many nations and people, who to this day, living on herbs and roots, arrive to incredible age, in * For so some pronounce it. V. Athenaeum, Deip. Lib. ii. cap. 26. i'Jo; quasi ii%''29. Ambition, to be found in solitude, 511. cannot be extinguished, 512. virtue and vice of con- sidered, S'iO. America, butchers removed from the Spanish towns in, '23*. sculptures found in various parts of, 275. several elaims to the discoveiy of, 654, 655. Anuiianus, Jost, or Justus, his book of trades en- graved on wood, 294. 302. Amphiprostyle, its nature and number of co- lumns, 390. AmpouUe, Saintc, or Holy Phial, legend of, 54. Amsterdam, learning of the merchants at, 540. Anaglyphice, casting of embossed metal images, 25S. more modern than sculpture, 269. Anaxagoras, resigns his patrimony for freedom, 26. Anaxander, his flattery of Alexander, 33. Anaximines, his belief that air was the cause of all things, 215. Ancaesa Vasa, notice of the, 260. Anchors, first invention and improvement of, 637. Anemonies, directions for planting, 481. Angels, their struggles after liberty, 9. Anger, seat of in the human body, 128. how to be governed in \oulh, 129, 130. Anjou, Mons. the Duke of, his character, 55. Annates, a source of the French revenue, 66. Ante Pilasters, or Antes, what they are, 385, 390. Antinous, relation of his apotheosis, 30. Antislhenes, his reply on public employment, 549. Antonio, Marco, copies the engravings of Albert Durer, 9.'S. praised and employed by Raf- faelle, 279. character of his engravings and notice of his other works, ib. 280. marks in- serted on his plates, 280. recommended to Albert Durer, ib. designs of J. Romano and B. Bandinelli, engraved by, 281. Antonius Pius, his maxim concerning natural af- fections, 21. Apelles, his picture of Alexander, 37. 271. Apiciub C'gelius, his methods of dressing mush- rooms referred to, 747 n. Apollo, sacrifices of hair made to, 13S. ApoUonius, bis objection to hunting, 9. Apology for the Royal Party, 1659, notice of the work, X. reprint of, 169 — 192. the author's intent in writing it, 189. Apophyges, what is meant by the, 376,379. Aposphragismata, Pliny's notice of the, 271. Apothecaries Garden at Chelsea, heating of the greenhouse at, 485 n. Appanages, a source of wealth to the crown of France, 65. Appius Claudius, naval expedition under, 643. Apples, names of those in prime and lasting in Januaiy, 445 ; do. in February, 448 ; do. in March, 451 ; do. in April, 456; do. in May, 460; do. in June, 465 i do. in July, 468; do. in August, 472 ; do. in September, 476 ; do. in October, 480 ; do. in November, 484 ; do. in December, 487. catalogue of the best, 495. Apprenticeship in France, a diminution of ho- nour, 81. Apricots,- catalogue of the best, 496. April, length of the days, &c. in, 454. work to be done in the orchard and kitchen-garden, ib, fruits in prime and lasting in, 456. work to be done in the parterre and flower garden, ib. flowers in prime and lasting in, 458. Aquinas, St. Thomas, reference to concerning the fallen angels, 9. his mention of th? writings of .Adam, 264. Arabia, why called the Happy, 208. Arare campum cereum, cleaning of a waxen ta- blet, 262. Ar:h(Bologia, notice of Brompton Park Gardens in the, 714 n. Archbishop of Paris, his jurisdiction, 94. Archbishops of France, their number and nature, 78. Archers of the Royal Guard of France, describedj 63. Arches, or Vaults, various kinds of described, 386, 387. triumphal ornaments and figures anciently used for, 421. Architects, to be more perfect in geometry, per- spective, and design, 344. 373. qualities re- quiied in, 3.")6, 357. excellence and rank of, 359. should be gifted by schools and lectures, ib. knighted in Italy, 362. Architects and Architecture, an Account of, notice of the work, xvi. reprint of, 349 — 124. its use to tlie workmen at St. Paul's, 352. origin of the book, 353. derivation and extent of the word Architect, 353 — 358. matter and form of buildings not treated of, and why; 360. styles of architecture intended to be spoken of, 365. terms used by : Taxis and Ordonance, 368 j Diathesis, 369 ; Ichnography, Orthography, Scenography, 371; Eurythmia, Decor, 372; Foundation, Stereobata, Stylobata, 374 ; orna- ments and members of the latter, 3*5 ; Sca- milli impares, ib. ; the Base and its parts, 376; the Plinth, Torus, Trochile, and Astragal, 377; Sulos, 378 ; Cajiital, 379, 380—382 ; Striges, 383 ; Pilasters, 384 ; Imposts and Pil,-e, 3S5 ; Arches, 38C ; Mensula, 3S7 ; Intercolumnia- tion,388; Areostylos, Diastylos, Systylos, ib. ; Species of Columns, 390, 391 ; Architrave, 391 ; Facias, Cymaticum, 392, 393 ; Tjenia, 393 ; Frieze, 394 ; Triglyphs, Guttw, 395 ; Metopaj, Cornice, 396 ; Ovolo, Dentelli, 397 ; Modilions, 398 : Mutules, Projectures, Corona, 399 ; Regula, 401 ; Module, 404 ; Orders of. GENERAL INDEX. 81 : described : Tuscan, 405 ; Doric, 406 ; Ionic, ■Corinthian, 408; Composite, 410; Caryatides, 411 ; Columns of various species, 412; Tyrn- , panum, 414; Acroteria, Cupola, 41(> ; Dome, Windows, Niches, 417 ; Tribunals, Relievos, 419; Ornaments, 4'20 ; how appropriated to various buildings, 421 ; Emblema, 422 ; Mo- saic and Tessellations, 423 ; conclusion, ib. 424. Architecture, derived of the Greeks, 355. not cultivated in England, but greatly encouraged in Italy, 362. rude originals of, 363. etymon of the word, ib. extensive meaning of, 364. connection between military and civil, 365. Greek and Roman the most perfect kinds, ib. monastic style of, censured, ib. 366. by whom corrupted, 366. names of its chief revivers, 367. numerous requisites of, 368. its con- nection with painting and sculpture, 559. Architectus Ingenio, what is intended by, 358. Sumptuarius, do. 358. Manuarius, 358. Architrave, its derivation and meaning, 391. in the Doric Order, 407. Areostylos, what it signifies in Architecture, 383. Argentum asperum et pustulatum, rough and embossed silver, 259. Aristijjpus the elder, his boast of free speaking, 21. Aristophanes, passage from concerning the Sil- phium, 759 n. Aristotle, various quotations from and references to,21. 326. 329. 501. 511. 777 n. 781. Aristoxenus, his moisture for Lettuce-beds, 743. Arlington, Henry Earl of. Dedications addressed to, 565, 623. requests Evelyn to write a His- tory of the Dutch War, 628 n. Armada, Naval, of France, account of the, 76. Armies of France, numbers of the standing, 76. auxiliaries serving in the, SO. Army of England, its monopoly of power in the Civil Wars, 182. deception of the, by the Par- liament, ib. Army's plea for their present practice, 1659. ex- tracts and animadversions on, 180,181. par- ticulars concerning the, 180 n. Arrests, or Acts of the Parliament of France de- clared, 72. Arrian, reference to concerning the Stoical doc- trine of Vice, 15. his Manual of the Stoic Morality, and discourses of Epictetus,24. Arthur, King of Britain, his naval expeditions, 660. Artichokes, Latin names and methods of dressing and preserving, 735. 800. introduction of, to England, and ancient price of, 736. Artillerie, Grand Maitre de 1', in France, 75. Artillery, at Havre de Grace, Motto on the, 58, excellent stores of in France, 86. Artists, encouragement of in all ages and places, 317. intellectual endowments requisite to, 318. names of such as used but two colours, 323. Arts, decay of the, in Greece and Rome, 273. lamentation for the, by Petronius, 274. means of recovering in England, ib. 275.310.311. eulogy on the Patrons of the, 290. 317. aca- demies of, as instituted by Princes, 317. 319. terms of various, preserved by the French, 354. Arundel, Thomas Earl of, his saying concerning Drawing, 312. eulogium on, and notice of, 555. Evelyn's notice of his Library, 556 n. marbles belonging to, presented to Oxford and published, 557 n. Aschara, Anthony, notice of, 178 n. Ashen-keys, directions for preserving, 802. Ashley, Sir Anthony, Cabbages brought into Eng- land by, 738. biographical notice of him, ib. n. .'\shraole, Elias, notice of him. 290 n. Asia, discovered by Shem and Japhet, 639. Asiatics, effects of the air on the, 216. Asparagus, qualities of, and method of dressing, 754. Dr. Lister's method of forcing, 779. do. for potting, 803. Assafoetida, historical notices of, 759 and note. Astragal, its derivation and meaning in Architec- ture, 377, 378. Astronomy, great importance of to Gardeners, 431. Astyages, King of Media, anecdoteofhiscrnelty, 33. Athanasius, St. hisriiention of sacrificing hair, 138. Athenffius, various references to and quotations from, 30. 33. 636. 637. 739, 740 n. 746. 763, and note. 772 n. 774, 775 n. 777 n, 780. J93 n. 796 n. Athenians, consequences of their abandoning their Kings, 52. their naval engagements and fall, 642, 643. Attic base, how it is formed, 376. Attila, King of the Huns, his rejection of flat- tery, 37. A. V. signification of the mark, 281. Aubrey, John, his notice of Nonesuch and Dur- dans Palaces, 419u. Letter of Evelyn to, from his History of Surrey, 68". additions to ditto, 691 n. Audran, Charles, his print of St. Catherine, 304. Avernus, Lake of, notice concerning the, 221 n. August, length of the days, &c. in, 471. work to be done in, in the orchard and kitchen gar- don, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, 472. work to be done in the parterre and flower gar- den in, 473. flowers in prime and lasting in, 475.^ .Augustine, St. D. Aurelius, reference to concern- ing servitude, U. his admiration of Epictetus, 24. his praise of his son, 107. his sorrow for him. 111. calls Adam the inventor of sculp- ture, 263. Augustino Venetiano, his engravings and cypher, 280. employed by B. Baldinelli, ib. Augustus Octavianus C'sRsar, Emperor of Rome, appoints Dioscorides his Sculptor, 271- com- mands Podius to be taught drawing, 330. ac- 816 GENERAL INDEX. the virtues of, celebrated, 513. his naval dis- coveries and conquests, 644. his fleets and squadrons enumerated, 645. his praise of let- tuce, 743. A. V. 1. explanation of the mark, '280. Aviaries, various directions concerning, 448. 454. 466. A\ icenna, his remark concerning the Ethiops, 217- B. Bacchus, his discoveries and instruction in navi- gation, 639. Bacon, Sir Francis, Lord Verulam, various refe- rences to, and quotations from, xxi, 540. 747- 777, 781 n. Bainein, signification of the word, 376. Baldini, Baccio, his engraving and printing, 277. fialdus, Bernardinus, his Lexicon to Vitruvius, 354. his term for a cajiital, 374. explanation of Sulos, 378. observation on the architrave, 391. Balls, style of the English defended, 161. de- scription and censure of one, 164, Ballusters, general rules concerning, 422. Balm, its nature as an herb, and method of asing, 736. Bandinelli, Baccio, A. Venetiano employed by, 281. his designs engraved by M.Antonio, ib. Bankside, notice of buildings on the, 223. Banquets of England, tedious formality of, 167- Barbaro, Daniel, his description of foundations, 373. notice of him ib. note, his derivation of the Italian word Cortice, 377- Barbarini, Rome despoiled of its architecture by the family of, 389. Barberries, catalogue of the best sorts of, 496. Barclay, John, his praise of Greenwich Palace, 232, and note. Baik, anciently used for writing on, 267. Barlacchi, Tomaso, liis engravings after Michel Angelo, &c. 283, 284. Barlaeus, Gaspard, salad described by, 793. Barlow, Francis, his engravings to Ogilby's ^Esop, 310. Barristers of England, their inferiority to those of France, 1C6. Bas-de-Soie shot through, what thev were, 710. Bases, ornaments of, 375. their derivation, mean- ing, and parts, 376. various kinds of, .b. of the Tuscan Ordei-, 406. of the Doric ditto, 407. of the Ionic ditto, 403. of the Corin- thian ditto, 409. of the Composite ditto, 411. Basil, its nature as a sallad, 736. Bassano, Giacomo da Ponte, fault committed by, in his pictures, 560 Bastone, the Italian name for the Tnichile, 377. Baur, John William, Battles etched by, 29S. Beale, John, his Latin verses to Evelyn on his book of arcliitecture, 347. Beans, directions for pickling, 803. Beatrice, Nicole, engravings executed by, 303. Beccafumi, Dom.enico, engravings by, 2S3. Bees, various directions concerning, 445. 448. 451. 456. 460. 465. 468. 472. 476. Beet, different kinds of, their nature and method of dressing, 736. Beham, Hans Sebald, his mark and works, 291. Belial, import of his name, 10. Bella, Stephano della, his excellent collection of etchings, 288. Berkeley, the Earl of, notice of his villa, at Dur- dans, 419, and note. House, inlaid floor at, 423. Bernard, Solomon, the Little, excellence of his small engravings, 303. Bernini, Cavalier, his wreathed and embossed columns, 412, extensive abilities of, 561. Beverovicius, John, vegetable diet defended by, 780. Bibliander, Theodore, his idea of the origin of letters and sculpture, 26". Bindley, James, Esq. his IMS. note in Evelyn's tract on Liberty and Servitude, 3. his copy of the First Edition of the French Gardiner, 97 n. his MS. note in Evelyn's Translation of St. Chrysostom's Golden Book, 112n. Bischop, Jolin de, an Advocate and Engraver, 301, Bishops of Fr.mce, their number, 78. Blagrave, Joseph, his engraved diagrams, 327. Blazons, Heraldic, expressed by lines, 323. Bleau, William Jansen, his observation concern- ing Durer's prints, 290. Blite, its names, kinds, and manner of dressing, 737. Bloemart, Abraham and Cornelius, their engrav- ings, 298. Blood, eating of considered and censured, 766, 787. Bochart, Samuel, various references to, 611 n. 659 n. Body, liberty of the, 10. continually feeding on air, 217. how the air enters it, 226. archi- tectural proportion derived from the, 403. Boetius a Boot, Arnold, his sentiments on New- castle coal, 227. iiolice of him, ib. n. Bolino, Bolio, an Italian graving tool, 262. Bolswert, Adam, his rustics after Bloemart, 295. portraits and othei- plates by, 296. Boltel, a name for the Astragal, 378. Bonasoni, Giulio, engravings by, 284. Borgiani, Horatio, his engravings in RafTaelle's Bible, 283. Borrage, its nature and mode of using, 737. Borromeo, Cardinal St. Charles, iiis adnuration of the Discourses of Epictetus, 24. Bo3=e, Abrah.un du, his excellent copies after Cal- lot, 307. ])eculiar style of his engravings, 308. small ornamental plates by, and his work on engraving, ib. 335. his remarks on the per- spective of irregular surfaces, 322. his inven- tion for executing single hatchings, 323. his censure of errors in costume, &c. 561. GENERAL INDEX. 817 Boulla, import of the word, 262. Bourbon, House of, how descended, 5^. , Louis de, Prince of Condfi, his descent and character, 55, 56. Grand Maitre de France, 60. a Member of the Conseil d'en haut, 67. -, Arniand de, Prince of Conty, character of, 56. Bourdeaux, Chambre Miparties estabhshed in, 72. Bow, proposal for removing the London Brewers to, 233. Bowling-greens of England, delightful, 167. Box, how to remove its offensive smell, 458. Boyle, Hon. Robert, Dedication of the Sculptura to, 243. eulogy on, and work of referred to, 552 and note, his queries concerning Sallads, 768. Brass plates used for engraving, 277. wire, mills for the drawing of first built in Surrey, 6S9. Bread, engraving of, mentioned by Pliny, 272. made of Turnips, recipe for, 756. Breast, supposed to be the seat of anger, 128. Breughels, subjects engraved by the, 301. Brewers of London, proposal for settling them at Bow, 233. Bridges with extraordinary arches, 386. Bridgewater, the Earl of, his house and gardens in Barbican, 222. notice of the family, ib. n. Brill, Paul, his engraved landscapes, 295. Britain, ancient unknown state of, 644. Britons, early naval exploits of the, 659. their lordshi|)of the sea exhibited, 670. 673. Brocoli, historical mention of, 738. Brompton Park Nursery-gardens, 714 and note. 715, 716, 717. recommended, 497- Bronchorst, John Van, his excellent etchings, 295. Brooke, Uobert, Lord, death of, 178 n. Brooklime, nature and qualities of the herb, 737. Broom-pods and buds, directions for pickling, 803. Brossehaemer, Hans, his Triumph of Maximilian, 294. Brouncker, Lord Viscount, Letter to on the Spa- nisli SembradoT, 1669-70,621. notice of, 723 n. Browne, Sir Richard, Dedication addressed to, 505. his shelter of the loyalists and clergy, in the civil wars recorded, 506 and note. , Sir Thomas, reference to his tracts, 778 n. , Major General, [larticulars concerning him, 177 n. Brussels, the lute news from, unmasked, 1660, notice of, xi. reprint of, 193 — 204. reprint of the tract itself, 195 n. — 202 n. notice concerning them 194. character of the tract answered by Eve- lyn, xi. )95 n. vide Charles \\. Bruyn, Nicholas de, his engraved wood scenery, 295. Bry, Theodore de, his illustrated voyages 295. Bucher, Buch-mast, analogy of with books, 267. Buckland, Mr. his recommendation of the culture of potatoes in England, 447 n. 5 M Budffius, Gulielmus, his definition of architect, 355. Buds of herbs, their qualities and use, 737. Bugloss, its qualities, 737- Buildings, requisites wanted for the construction of, 358. their matter and form, why not treated of, 360. rude originals of, 363. various kinds of, all called architecture, 364. of Rome, how erected and despoiled, 389, Buonarroti, Michel Angelo, his distinction con- cerning sculpture, 261. retouches an engrav- ing by Martin of .Antwerp, 277. engravings after, "ib. 2S3. 285. defence of his works, 560. Burdock, its use as a sallad, 758. Bureaux, signification of, 65. Burials, ancient laws concerning, 236. Burine, the French graver, 262. Butchers should be removed from cities, 236,237. Butter, directions for preparing for sallad, 811. Cabbage, historical remarks on, nature and me- thod of dressing, 737, 738. Cadmus, his cohmies and inventions, 639. Cselatuia, different kinds of work signified by, 259, 260. Ca;lum, Cseles, C'altes, names for a style, 261. Cffilura Tornos, embossed metal cups, 260. Ca;sar, C. Julius, various references to, and quo- tations from, 88. 415. 513. 659. 6/0. Ceesari, Alessandro, fine medals executed by, 289. Calaber, Peter, his mistake concerning printing, 267. Calathus in a Corinthian capital, 381. Calcar, or Kalcker, John Van, his anatomical designs, 284. Cales, or Cadiz, expedition of the Eail of Esse.v to, 664. C.alices Diatreti, mentioned by Martial, 259. Caligula, C. Emperor of Rome, his endeavour to tempt Demetrius, 25. Calligiaphers, names of eininent French, 305. do. of English, 310. Callimachus, the inventor of the flowery volute, 381. 383. Callot, Jacques, eulogium on, 307. principal en- gravings of, ib. 308. Cambyses, King of Persia, anecdote of his cruelty, 33. Camden, William, Clarenceux King of Arms, various references to, 419. 677. 679. Camp, Maitres de, in France, 75. Cape of Good Hope, passage to India by the, 649. Capel, Arthur Rich, Lord, his defence of Col- chester, and fate, 176 n. Capitaine de la Porte in France, his guard, 61. Capital of a column, 379. and its parts, 380 — 382. determines its Order, 405. of the Tus- can Order, 406. of the Doric do. 407. of the 818 GENERAL INDEX. Ionic do. 40S. of the Corinthian, do. 409. of tiie Composite do. ib. 410. Cajiitolinus, Julius, reference to concerning Anto- nius Pius, ^l. Capsicum, Indian, nature and method of prepar- ing the, 7>^0. Cardanus, Jerome, his remarks on wild plants, 760 n. vegetable diet rejected by, 777- Cards, skill of the English females in playing at defended, 159 n. their advantages at play, 160, 161. Carevv, Sir George, his relation of the slate of France, ix. Carmen, extreme rudeness of the, in England, 150. Carpi, Ugo da, his engravings in Cliiaro-scuro, •282. Carracci, Annibale, print of, impossible to coun- terfeit, 324. , Augustine and Annibal, their engravings, 265, 2S6. Carrots, Latin names of, and method of raising, 738. directions for making a pudding of, SOS- Carter, Francis, an eminent artist with the pen, 316. Carthaginians, their ancient commerce and naval power, 643. frequent sea-fights with the Ro- mans, ib. Carthusians, Order of the, their social prayer, 529. Caryatides, 35". historical account of and use, 411, 412. Cassianus, notice of his martyrdom, 262. Cathetus in the Ionic \olute, 3S2. Catholics, Roman, of France, their character, 82. Cato, Marcus Fortius, the Censor, reference to his commendations of cabbage, 737. Catsius, Jacobus, his sallad, 793. Cavaglieri, Giovanni Battista, his engravings, 283. Cavaglio, Giacomo del, his works and abilities, - 283. Cavalry of France, regiments of, 76. excellence of, 85. Cavatores, engravers anciently so called, 261. Caverns, subterranean, mortality of, 225. Caukerken, or Caukern, Cornelius Van, his en- gravings, 299. Cauliflowers, to secure good heads of, 472. his- torical mention of, 738. directions for pick- ling, 803. Ceilings first painted, 401. Celery, 7.53. domestic use of, for a sallad, 754. Celsus, Aurelianus Cornelius, impiety of, con- cerning Epictetus, 24. his rule concerning foods, 781. Cerei Pugillares, hand-tables of wax, 262. Cesij, Giovanni Jacopo, account of him, 569. commissioned to procure a slave for Jumbel Aga, 570. Chabot, John and Sebastian, drcoveries attributed to, 655. Chalk, excellency of drawing upon coloured paper with, 316. Cham, his exploits, 264. sculptured columns of, 265. parts of the earth discovered by, 639. Chamberlain, High, of France, his duties and officers, 60. Chambre, La Grand, of France, its officers and duties, 71- Chancellor of France, office and ceremonies of the, 69. ]ieculiarities of his dress, 70. Chaperon, Nicholas, his engravings after Raf- faelle, 304. Character of England, 1659, 141 — 167. vide England. Character of France, 1659, notice of, 143 n. Characters, a satirical game so called, 164 n. Charasch, Charasso, Carat h, Charatto, their con- nection and signification, 263. Chardoon, the .Spanish, method of dressing, 736. Charlemagne, Emperor, his institution of naval offices, 646, 547. Charles V. Emperor of Germany, his abdication censured, 5*7. his visits to the tomb of Buec- keld, 680. his maxim concerning the sea, 635. Charles 1. King of England, eulogium on his virtuous suffering, vii, 522. his proclamations, &c. on the British fisheries and fleet for guard- ing them, 683, 684. Charles II. King of Englnnd, his restoration, xi. adopts the Eastern costume, xiii. his enquiry into the state of English timber, xiv. pre- sented with the first ])iiie-apple raised in Eng- land, 101 n. 432 n. vindication of, from the charge of revenge, 185. 195, 196. 198. 203. from poperv, 186. 203. eulogy on him and his brothers, 187. 201.202,203. pretended calumnious letter concerning, 195 n. — 202 n. his virtuous conversation vindicated, 197. as- sertion of his intentions of vengeance, 199 n. 202 n, his pretended courtesy to the Presby- terians, 200 n. Dedications addressed to, 207. 339. 627. his encouragement of Evelyn's Fumifugium, 207 u- his buildings, planta- tions, &c. celebrated, 340, 341. 345. his char- ter and grant of Chelsea College to the Royal Society, 5.')6. his encouragement of com- merce, 634. his encouragement of naval dis- coveries, 665. Chart and Map engravers of France, &c. 309. Chastity of Youth, importance and means of pre- serving, 132. to be preserved by an early mar- riage, 134. Chaucer, Geofiiey, his orthography of Gilly-flower, 466 r<. Chauveau, Francis, his invention and engravings, 305. Chaulmes, the Duchess of, immense value of her bed plumes, 81. Cheerfulness of the people of France, 92. Chcmice, casting of metal figures, 258. GENERAL INDEX. 819 Cheret, explanation and connection of the word, 263. Cherries, in prime and lasting in May, 460. ditto in June, 4G5. ditto in Jidy, 4G9. Ca- talogue of the best kinds of, 496, Chervil, or Scandix Cerefoliuui, its variety in the kitchen garden, 445 n. Latin names and cha- racter of as asallad, 738. Chesnut, directions for dressing, SOO. Chiaro-scuro, first engravings in, 'iS'i. Children (vide Youth), of France, the character and disposition of, 90. St. Chrysostoms book on the education of, 103 — 140. how sorrow for their deaths should be mitigated, 105, 106. anxiety of fathers to clothe them richly, 113. their manners to be early and' carefully cul- tured to virtue, 114, 115. advice for the go- vernment of the speech of, 115, 116, 11*. 119. ditto for their correction, US. ditto for guard- ing their sense of healing, 119. examples for introducing them to the knowledge of the Scriptures, 1'20. 12'2. 126, 127, 128. and the duties of religion, 122. repetitions of Scrip- ture stories to be made by, 122. 124. advice for naming them, 124. their smelling to be , kept from perfumes, 126. sight of to be guarded, 127. means of doing it, ib. their touch to be carefully preserved, 128. how their anger should be governed, 129. duties of wards their domestics. 130, 131, 132. of Lon- don, great mortality of, 214. exposure of in heathen countries, ib. importance of teaching them by pictures, 329, 330. Chimnies, means of improving those in the works in London, 213. China, early use of sculpture and chalcngraiihv, 274, 275. pretended antiquity of the Chinese printing, 275. Chinese, their strangely-built ships, 654. Choice of mankind generally erroneous, 548. Christ, cause of his seeking retirement, 528, Chrysippus, his praise of Dion, 17. Chrysostom, St. John (vide Children), Evelyn's translation of the Golden Book of, 1659, x. 103 — 140. reasons for its publication, 106. dis- covery of the manuscript of, 112. concluding blessing of, 137. notes to, 138. his Maniage Homily referred to, 140. allusion to another work by him on the education of children, ib. Chrysostom, Dion, reference to, 8. Chrystal, ancient name for graving on, 259. Church of France, notice of, 78. possesi^ions of the, 87. of England, desolate state of in the civil wars, 152 n. Churches, censure of the English during the civil wars, 154. organs taken from the, and set up in taverns, 157. ornaments and figures \no- per for, 421. Chmuh-yards should be removed from the city, 213. 236. Cicero, Marcus T., various references to and quo- tations from, 226. 327. 356. 510, 511. 513. 536. 551. 625. 634. 644, 64,5. 66L 726. 746. 794 n. 7S6 n. Cigala, Johannes Michael, a pretended Ottoman prince, vide Mahomed Bei, 578 — 586. his pretended descent, 578. , Scipio, his capture, profession of Ma- hometanism, and advancement in Turkey, 578. , Sinen Bassa, his real issue, 5S4. , account of the families of, 585. , Mahomed, notice of him, 584. , Meni Pasha, his issue, 585. -, Viscount, false account of his burial. 585. Circuses, ancient ornaments and figures of, 421. Cisij, Signor Pietro, his account of two impos- tors, 565. Cities, importance of their improvement and de- coration, 345. their neighbourhood unfavor- able to vegetables, 778. Cities of France, having parliaments, 72. in what they difi'er from that of Paris, ib. Civil wars, dreadful state of religion in England during the, 152, 153. miseries of the, 172, 173, 174. 185. City, parallel between the government of a, and the mind of a child, 1 15, 1 16. 128. the gates of allegorized, 116, 117. 119. 126, 127, 12S. vide London. Clarendon, Sir Edward Hyde, Earl of, notice of his mansion, 341 n. Clary, method of dressing, 739. Clavers, how used as a sallad, 739. Claudian, various references to and quotations from, 6. 48, 49. 221. Claudius, Emperor of Rome, poisoned by eating mushrooms, 746. Clement of Alexandria, his name for the Egyptian priests, 43. Cleophanes, colours introduced by, 323. Cleyn, Francis and John, their astonishing draw- ings with the pen, 316. Coal, the larity of in London of benefit to the gardens and orchards, 212, 222. , sea, desirable to be freed from smoke, 213. immoderate use of in London, 220. danger of to the air, 227, 228. 230. Coasts of France^ their fortifications, 87. Cochin, Nicholas, his engravings after Beaulieu, 306. Cock, Jerome, engravings executed by, 291. Cocu, Girolamo, engravings by, 283. Cohen, Nehemiah, notice of him, 605. disputes with Sabatai Sevi, 606. his revenge, ibid. 607. Colaptice, carving or cutting in stone, 528. Colchis, Argon.iutie expedition to, 640. Cold, names of plants bearing difl'erent degrees of, 489. Colignon, Francis, his engravings, 306. CoUaert, Adrian, his engravings on steel, 298. 820 GENERAL INDEX. Colours used by the ancient artists, S^S. first use of, ib. Columella, L. Junius Moderatus, various quota- tions from and references to, 425. 431 and note, 432 n. 434 n. 729. Columbus, Christopher, his maritime discoveries, (>54, 655. Columns, proportions of and propriety in using, 372. 375. Sulos, the name for, 37S. their increase and diminution considered, ib. 379- striges in, 383. spaces or intercolumniations, 388. various dispositions of named and consi- dered, 390. 413. human figures anciently used for, 391. 411,412. of the Tuscan order, 406. of the Ionic order, 408. various other kinds of described, 412. wreathed ones, when used, ib. notice of double ones, 413. Columna, Fabius, his discovery of the nature of plants by the insects feeding on them, 761. Combabus, his sacrifice, 31. Combefis, Padre Francesco, his discovery of the original MS. of St. Chrysostom's Golden Book, 1 12. hi: translation of St. Chrysostom referred to, 140. Comines, Philip de, his commendation of English marmers, 146 n. Commenius, John Amos, his Orbis Sensualium Pictiis, 329, 330. Commerce, opulence of many nations caused by, 632. its origin and progress considered, 633, 634. vast utility and importance of, 635. earliest memorials of noticed, 641. notice of the Hebrew, Phenician, &c. ib. of the Ro- man, 645, 646, 647- improvement of under Charlemagne, 647. account of the t;gyptian, ib. of the Venetian and Portuguese, 648. of the Dutch and Northern nations. 649. 651. decay of in several eminent ports, 650. notice of the French, ib. of the Genoese, 652. of the Dutch, 65S, 659, 681. of England, early flou- rishing state of, 663. Commode, meaning of the word, 710. Commons of France, their misery and litigious nature, SO. passions and manners of the, 91. Commonwealth, importance of public officers in the, 515. Company, trifling and virtuous described, 534,535. Compo-Composile Order, what it is, 411, Composite Order, how its base is formed, 376. echinus in the, 380. volute in the, 381. aba- cus in the, 382. striges in the, 383. impost in the, 385. intercolumniation of the, 388. architrave and fascias in the, 392. modilions of the, 398. account and parts of the, 4 10. Compts, Chambre des, receipts and officers of, 73. . — Maitres and Auditors des, their number, 73. Comte, Florent le, his mention of Nanteuil's por- trait of Evelyn, 306 n. Coninxlogensis, iEgidius. his excellent wood scencrv, 295. Connestable of France, rank and office of the, 74. Conquerors, good effects produced by, 515. Conseil I'Etat et Priv^, account of, 67. objects of the, 68. Conseil d'en haut, account of, 67. Conseil des Parties, objects of the, 68. Conservatory (vide Green-house) stove, new plan for one, 490 — 495. engraved views of it, 493. Consoles, figures supporting an architrave, 391. Constantine, Emperor of Rome, despoils Rome of its architecture, 389. Constantine the Great, checks the flattery of a priest, 33. Constantinople, imprisonment there of the pre- tended Messiah, 598. conduct of the Jews there regarding him, 599. order published in concerning Sabatai Sevi, 609. second letter of theChochams of, to the Jewsof Smyrna, 6 12,613. Continent, advantageous situation ot the, 83. Continental Travel, advice for, viii. 45. Conversation, worthless condemned, 534. Coote, Sir Charles, republican slander of, 196 n. 197. Copperplate engraving and printing, when first known, 276. Corinth, why used as a name for the currant, 465 n. Corinthian Order, capital of the, 357. how its base is formed, 376. astragal in the, 378. echinus in the, 381. volute in the, ib. 382. abacus in the, ib. striges in the, 383. impost in the, 385. intercolumniations of the, 38S. architrave and fascias in the, 392. ovolo and dentelli in the, 397. modilions of the, 398. corona of the, 401. height of a column in the, 404. historical account and measurement of the, 408. parts, &c. of the, 409. Corn Fleet of the Romans, its laws and privileges, 645. Cornelian Cherry, historical notice of the, 437 n. list of the best sorts of the, 497. Cornice, its name and parts, 397, 398. 402. Coriolano, Christophero, his portraits of the painters, 285. Corona, its architectural description, use and ex- amples of, 399, 400, 401. Coronation, duties of the French peers at a, 59. Coronix, wliat it signifies in architecture, 403. Corporations of France, cause of their unimport- ance, 81. Cort, Cornelius, engravings by, 292. Cortice, why the Trochile is so called, 377. Corvinus, Matthew, King of Hungary, notice of his library, 556 n. Cosmo de Medicis, Duke of Florence, his maxim concerning the sea, 635. Cosroes, King of Persia, his protection of the Roman philosophers, 19. Costume, carclessnessof by eminent painters, 559. Cotys, the embossed Figulian vase destroyed by. GENERAL INDEX. 821 Covilan, Peter, his discovery of a new passage to India, 649. Councils of France, 67. Council of Direction, objects of the, 68. Council of War, of France, 76. Country, vices in persons residing in the, .5^0. 5'24, 525, S'Zen. life in the, often mistaken, 543. Cours in Paris, notice of the, 162 n. 165. Court, the servitude of considered, 2". the con- tinual disguise and confinement of, 31. offi- cers of the French, GO. superior splendour of English, 61. virtue and vice of the, consi- dered, 524. Court of Peers, the title of the French parlia- ment, 73. Courtiers, unhappiness of their pursuit, 28. an- cient instances of the complaisance of, 30. their persons in continual servitude, 31. often- times worthless men, .533. Courts of France, manner of proceeding in the, 68. parliamentary ditto, and their officers, 71,72. —^— of Justice, ornaments and figures proper for, 421. Courtships, descriptive account of ancient ones, 700. Couvay, John, engravings by, 304. Dr. his hieroglyphical grammar, 329. Cowley, Abraham, his connection with Evelyn's Kalendarium Hortense, 427. dedication of that work to him, 429. his letter and poem to Evelyn, called the Garden, xvi. 435, 436. Evelyn's letter to, referring to his tract against solitude, 510 n. poetical quotations from, xvi. 745 n. 761. 763. 793. 799. Cowslips, directions for pickling, 804. ditto for making wine of ditto, SIO. Cranach, Lucas, nature of his engravings, 302. Crassus, L. Licinius, his richly engraven cups, 272. Crates, his advice to the morose man, 521. Craven, William Earl of, destruction of his houses during the civil wars, 175 and note. Crayon, drawing with the, described, 314. Creation, excellence, beauty, and use of, 628, 630. Cremona, Solomon, his false vision of EliaSj 604. Cresses, various kinds and qualities of, 739. Cretans, their invention of masts and yards, 637. their great skill in navigation, 640. Crinitus, Peter, verses quoted by on the origin of letters, 267. Cromwell, Oliver, excessive tyranny of his go- vernment, 173. particulars of his terrific death, 1*9 n. his treason to the English flag, 675. Cucumber, various methods of dressing, 739, 740. directions for pickling, 804. Cullurn, Sir Dudley, his letter to Evelyn on the new green-house stove, 497. account of him and his green-house, ib. note. Cullum, Rev. Sir John, reference to his History of Hawsted, 497 n. Cupolas, description and examples of, 416. de- rivation of the word, 417. Cups, account of ancient engraved ones, 2*2. Currants, historical notice concerning, 465 n. catalogue of the best sorts of, 496. Custos, Dominic, portraits engraved by him, 301. Cymatium, derivation and description of, 392. various names and places of the, 393. Cypress, destruction of by the winter of 1683, 694. Cyprian, Thascius Caecilius, his idea concerning letters and sculpture, 267. D. Daedalus, sails invented by, 638. Daffodil, formerly eaten as a sallad, 757. Daisy, Latin names and use of the, 740. Damascus, wrought scimetars brought from pro- bably the first hint for etching, 2S2. Damoxenus, cook described by, 763. Dancing-masters in England, their rudeness, 164. Dandelion, Latin names and uses of, 740. Dane-Gelt, a proof of EngUsh naval sovereignty, 674. Danes and Norwegians, Runic writing of the, 273. Danes, their ravages and piracies stopped by the commerce of England, 632. character of their navigation, 651, 652. tribute paid to the, by Holland, 686. Darius Kiiig of Persia, ferry-boats used by, 637- Dates and marks, when first used on copper- plates, 276. Daughters of France, how disposed of, 56. Daughters, notice concerning their education, 13". Dauphin of France, notice of his title, 54. David, evil produced by his want of employment and solitude, 516, 530. his desire of social worship, 531. D'Aviler, Mons. his remark on Gothic architec- ture, 366. his diagram for constructing a tympanum, 415. December, length of the days, &c. in, 487. work to be done in, in the orchard and kitchen gar- den, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, ib. work to be done in the parterre and flower garden in, 488. flowers in prime and lasting in, ib. Decks to vessels, by whom invented, 637. Declaration of the pretended Messiah in Italian, 594. ditto in English, 595. Decor, in architecture, explained, 372. Decurise Fabrorum Rhavennatium, what he was, 646. Delices de la Campagne, notice of the work so called, 100. Demetrius Phalerus, his contempt of wealth, 25. . Poliorceles, flattery of at Athens, 33. bis immense ships of war, 637. 822 GENERAL INDEX. Demosthenes, recommends exertion e\en in a corrupt state, 518. Denhain, Sir John, dedication to of the Parallel of Architecture, 343. Denis, St. deposed from being the patron saint of France, 53. often the frontier of France, 94. )irivileges of the abbot of in the Frencli par- liament, 73. Dentelli in architecture, 397 • Dephilus, vegetable diet rejected by, 777 n. 780. Desectores, carvers in ivory, 'ZbS. Desgodetz, Anthony, his rule for the increase of columns, 379. Desie;n, great and universal importance of, 312. definition of, and its difference from drawing, 313. Devotion,, summary of the duties of, 528, 529. Diaglyphice, liollow carving in metals, 258. Diamond, when first engraven on, 290. Diastylos, what it signifies in arcliitecture, 38S. Diathesis, in architecture, explained, 369. Diatrctice, a work On chrystal, 259. Digliy, Sir Kenelni, his observations on the pes- tilent nature of the air of London, 227. and of coal, 228. Dijon, difierence between its parliament and that of Paris, 7'^. Dimidia; Emmentiae, explanation of the term, 259. Dioclesian, Caius Valerius Jovius, Emperor of Rome, his maxim concerning a gardener, 98. instances of Volutes taken from his Baths, 381. bis delight in a garden, 442. his abdi- cation censured, 517- Diodati, John, his wish concerning church music, 158. notice of him, 158 n. Diodorus Siculus, illustiation from concerning slaves, 11. attributes to Minos the earliest na- vigation, 638, Diogenes, his saying when a slave, 22. contempt of Imperial favor, 26. saying concerning Cal- listhenes, ib. deification of the air by, 215. his rude treatment of Alexander, 521. Diomedes, his orthography of the word sculptura, 258. Dionysius, jun. King of Sicily, complaisance of his courtiers to, 30. Dioscordes, Pedacius, his praise of mallows, 744. his mention of radish, 751, 752. Dioscorides, engraver to tlie Emperor Augustus, 271. Diptere, columns and measurements of, 390. Discoveries made by the earliest navigators, 639. made by sea in Elizabeth's reign, 665. Diseases commended in sport, 229. Divines of France, character of the, 89. Dock, botanical name and use of, 740. Dolci, I/.ulovico, passage from concerning Charles V. 517 n. Dome, its derivation and meaning, 417. Domestic Officers of the Court of France, 60. Domestics of Children to be carefully selected. 118, 119. and watched, 126. to assist in their education, 129. Dominican Fiiar burned by the Turks, 572. Dumitian, Titus Flavins, idle leisure of, 514. Donatellus, his eulogy on design, 312. Doric Ordei', plinth and troehile in the, 377. striges in the, 383. |)ilasler of the, 384. im- post of the, 385. intercolumniation in the, 388, 407. architrave in the, 392. cymatiuni in the, 393, frieze of the, 394. roses on the abacus of the, 395. triglyphs of the, ib. guttae of the, ib. metopaein the, 396. regida, ovolo, and dentelli of the, 397. modilions of the, 398. mutules for ihe, 399. measurement used in the, 404. historical description of the, 406. parts and proportions of the, 407. Dorislaws, Isaac, biographical account of, 178 n. Double Columns considered, 413, 414. Double Pedestal, what it is, 374. Doucine, vide Cymatium, 393. Douse, Mr. Vander, an eminent artist for pen drawings, 316. Drake, Sir Francis, his circumnavigatory voyages, 656. his \aliant actions against the Spaniards, 664. Drawing, nature and definition of, 313. sup- posed invention of by a shepherd, 314. with the crayon and pen, described, ib. directions concerning the outline in, 315. eminent artists in ])en drawing, 316. in chalk, excellent effect of, ib. great and ijeneral importance of, 317. 326. use of to the dumb, 331. Drawings, the original ones of the old masters widely scattered and carefully kept, 312. dif- ferently executed at various periods, 317. Dress, expensive, the folly and danger of, 113, 114. not the folly of the greatest persons, 547. poem descripti\e of ancient female, 703 — 709. dictionary of terms relating to, 710. references to ancient accounts of, 713. Drink-Ordel of F"rance, explained, 159 n. Droit d'Aubaine, nature of the, 66. Druefken, engravings of, 301. Duillius, Caius Nepos, Roman naval expedition under, 643. naval triumph allowed to, 646. Durdens, Villa of, ornamented fiom the materials of Nonesuch House, 419. Durer, Albert, his manner of marking his plates, 276. engravings executed by, 277, 278. 281. his contests with M. Antonio and L. Van Ley- den, 278. his designs engraved by the former, 280. great value of his works, 290. his wood- cuts to the Tewidannckks, 302. to Petrarch's Utriusque F'ortun;e Remedia, ib. to .Apuleius' Golden .\s3, and Cicero's Epistles, ib. his prints copied by painters, 319. his measurements of the human body, 404. Dutch, character of their travels, 47- their early establishment of India Companies, 649. cha- racter of their commerce, navigation, and naval exploits, 658, 659. inferiority of their navy to GENERAL INDEX, 823 that of the English, 667. causes of their na- tional success, ib, their petition to jQueen Elizabeth, 668. dispute the claim of the Eng- lish to naval soveTeignty, 673. respect paid to the British flag by, 675. privilege of fishing granted to the by England, 677, 684. their molestation of the British fisheries, 678. free fishing of interrupted, 6*9. their insolence checked by Kings James and Charles I. ib. 680. naval power of the, derived from the herring fishery, 680. rent due from the, to England for the use of ditto, 681. Dutch Ambassador, his complaint of Evelyn's tract on Navigation, 628 n. Dutch war, notice of Evelyn's intended history of the, 628 n, 629 n. E. Earth Nuts, method of dressing, 740. Ease, laboured for more than retirement, .513. examples of slothful and luxurious, 544, 54.5. East, ancient circuitous routes of communication with the, 648. Eastern Nations, their navigation and ships, 654. Eaux, La cour de les, et les Forets, 74. Ebur pingue, unpolished ivory, 259. Ecclesiastical offices of the French Court, 61. Peers of France, 59. State of France, "8. Ecclesiastics of France, dues paid by, 66. free of taxes, ib. their seats in the French Parliament, 73. Ecclesiasticus, references to the Book of, 34. 358 n . Echinus, in architecture, its meaning and deriva- tion, 3S0. Edgar, King of England, his sovereignty over the sea commemorated, 673. Edict, Chambre de 1', of France, a Court for French Protestants, 71. Education, St. John Chrysostom's book on, 103. 140. assisted by the use of engravings, 329. Edward ]. King of England, his institiuion of ad- mirals, 67 1 . II. his sovereignty over the seas, 672. 111. his extensive naval force, 661. his sovereignty over the seas, 672. grants the Dutch a privilege of fishing, 678. Eggs, use of in sallads, 768. Egypt, inmiense use of onions in, 749. Egyptians, mysteries and learning of the, 43. an- cient and extensive commerce of the, 647- Elder, botanical name and nature of, 740. di- rections for potting, 803. Elias, impostor representing, 589. preparations for by the Jews, 603. ceremonies in honour of, 604. supposed revelations of. ib. 605. Elisha, the condition of his entertainer consi- dered, 530. Elysium Brilannkum, notice of Evelyn's unfinished work so called, xx. 722. Elizabeth, Queen of England, her policy regard- ing Spain, SS. numerous bad pictures of, 271 • her policy and naval forces, 663. her maritime exploits and discoveries, 664, 665, 666. her sovereignty over the seas, 671. Emblema, description and use of in architecture, 423. Empedocles, refuses sovereignty, 26. Employment, public, preferred to solitude, 1667, notice of, xvii. reprint of, 501 — 552. great- ness affected in more than virtue, 512. rea- sons for its being shunned by many, ib. 513. general views of such as accept it, 513. not all alike, 514. value and importance of, 515. to be entered gradually, 516. not the cause of evil passions, 520. scholars and philosophers engaged in, 538. not inconsistent with the love of nature or learning, 545. should not be forced upon men, 548. should be entered into in youth, ib. general advice concerning, 549. descriptive sketch of, 551. Enamelling, the first hint of printing engraved plates, 277. Encaustic art, explanation of the, 258. occa- sioned the invention of brass prints, ib. vari- ous parts of, 259. Encolaptice, explanation of the word, 258. Endive, botanical names and qualities of, 741. England, defrauded of nde in France, by the pre- tended Salique Law, 54. splendour of its court preferred to that of France, 61. nobi- lity of less advantage here than in France, 66. disproportion between the revenues of and those of France, 67. may probably kee]) France in awe, 88. balance of, with regard to France and Spain, ib. singular decay (vide London) of vineyards in, 102. and of timber, ib. reprint of the tract entitled A Character nj, 1659.141 — 167. notice of ditto, ix. Letter in vindication of ditto, 143 — 146. satire contained in it of great use, and quoted in a sermon, 144. the author of it vilified, 144 n, 145 n. satirical examination of it, 146 n. — 162 n. vide Gallus Castriitus. address to the reader prefixed to, 147. opening compliments of the work, 148. fertility and beauty of England and its inhabit- ants, 149. suspicion and rude manners in, ib. 150. I67. vide church, civil wars, London, Paul's, St, Presbyteiians, Parliamentarians, Royalists, numerous residences of the kings of, 150 n. fanatical religious sects in, 156. beauty of the country and parks of, 167. rapi- dity of riding and driving in, ib. tedious for- mality of the banquets and visits of, ib. miser- able state of in the civil wars, 173, 174, I75. 180. 184, 185. 188. their probable effects to, 188, 189. notice of the principal engravers of, and their works, 309, 310. means for improv- ing the art of engraving in, 310, 311. con- W 824 GENERAL INDEX. ceited and idle nature of the workmen of, 360, 361. tlie study of architecture recoinnionded to, 362. the importance of commerce to, 632. dominion of the sea belonging to, 668. 674. respect paid to the flag of at tea, 6/5. kings of, lords of the ocean, (--Tl- 6/4, 67">, 676. ex- tent of the naval sovereignty of, 677- cuiious description of ancient manners and house-keep- ing in, 700, 701, 70','. English, their youth compared with those of the French, 91. rude familiarity of the, ib. hatred and contempt of the French for the, 92. suspicion and rudeness of the, 149, 150. attempted defence of it, 146 n. 14" n. their abilities in any jirofession, 361. fir=t builders of frigates, 63S. maritime disco- veries made by the, 6b6. early navigation of the, 659. and excellent navies of the, 660. their ancient discoveries and maritime forces, ib. importance of the sea and navy to the, 661. naval forces under John and Edward III., ib. ditto, under Richard II. and Henry V., 662. ditto, under Henry VlI.andVHI. and Elizabeth, 663, 664, 665,' 666. celebration of their numerous naval discoveries, 665. their naval strength and exploits under James I., 666, 667. their claims to the dominion of the sea exhibited, 670 — 679. 6S5. their attention to fisheries important, 681, 6S2, 683. English tongue, decay of fiom the Saxon, 353. Engravers, their ancient manner of marking their plates, 276. not to make their shadows too dark, 322. of Italy, their names and principal works, 279 — 289. of Germany and Flanders, do. 277, 278. 290—302. of France, do. 303 — 309. of England, do, 301 , 302. Engraving, instruments for, various ancient names for, 262. vide Sculptura, 243 — 335. on silver, 272. when first used on cojjper plates, 276. supposed inventor of, 277. on plates how first printed, ib. means for improving the art of in England, 310. recommended to be practised by painteis, 311. lights and shades, stuffs, &c. how they are expressed in, 320. plate and illustration of the manner, 321. a mixture of the kinds of, most excellent, 325. practised by eminent characters, ib. 326. flourished most in the most eloquent ages, 327. new method of, invented by Prince Ruperi, 333. Enoch, books said to have been written by, 264, supposed inventor of letters, 267. EnquCts, Chambres des, of France, officers of, 71. Entablature of the Tuscan Order, 406. of the Doric do. 407. of the Ionic do. 408. of the Corinthian lio. 409. of the Composite^ 411. Entasis or swelling of columns, 378. Epalamius, his improvement of the anchor, 637. Epaphroditus, anecdote of, 24. Ephesians, their law concerning buildings, 358. Epibateriuni, derivation of the word, 49. Epicurus, his limitation of freedom, 19. his pleasure in gardens, 439. his idea of the in- activity of the gods, 510. his praise of jmblic ministers, 513. his observation on t';e dispo- positions of men, 519. Epictetus, his derision of the Nicopolitans, 16. his absolute independence of spirit, 23. cha- racter and anecdote of, 24. immense price given for his earthen lamp, 25. his observa- tions on society, 521. Epictheates, vide Cymatium, 393. Epigenes, his remark on the antiquity of sculp- ture, 263. Epiginosko, real signification of the word, 140. Epimenides, his unhealthy residence, 224. Epiphanias, Bishop of Salamis, his quotation of the Books of Adam, 263. Epistilium, the Greek name of the Architrave, 391. Epitaph on Richard Evelyn, jun. 112. Erasnms, Desiderius, his satire on butchers and fishmongers, 237. Erixion, notice of his death, 262. Erythrjei, oars invented by the, 637. Eschevins of Paris, nature of their office, 94. Escuyer, Grand, of France, his duties and oflicers, 61. , Premier, , his duties and officers, 61. Esprit, St., order of knighthood of, institution and ceremonies of the, 77. Essex, Robert Devereux, Earl of, biographical notice of, 176 n, 177 n. his successful expe- dition to Cadiz. 664. Essex House, London, particulars of its scite, &c. 101 n. pictures of Queen Elizabeth destro\ed at, 271. Etching with Aqua Fortis, first used, 2S2. Ethiops, eflect of the air on ihe life of, 217. said to have the books of Seth and Enoch, 264. Eubulus, his term for lettuces, 742. Eve, solitude the cause of her temptation, 530. Evelyn, John, his early custom of journal- ising, vii. notices of his literary productions, vii — xxii. his endeavours to gain Colonel IMorley to the royal cause, x. his mention of Charles II. entering London, xi. his letter toDr. Godolphin on his translation of Naude, xii n. engaged to write an account of English forest trees, xiv. his letter to Cowley concerning so- litude, xviii. his scheme for a Lay Monastery, and public labours of, ib. solicits the engrav- ing of the Arundel Marbles, xix. his notions concerning gardens, xxi. scheme for a general history of trades, ib. works of in manuscript, ib. his love for Wotton, ib. summary of his worth and writings, xxii. his first literary un- dertaking, vii. 3, 4. commendatory poem ad- dressed to, 6. reference to his Sylva, 102 n. bis grief for his son's death, 105. (vide Evelyn, Richard), supposed to be the translator of A Character of England, and author of the letter in vindication of it, ix. 143 n. notice of his GENERAL INDEX. 825 portrait engraved by Nanteuil, 306,. and note, his translation of Du Bosse's work on En- graving, 335. Latin verses addressed to on liis bool< of Architecture, 34-7. extract from a letter by, on his Kalendarium Hortense, 427. letter and poem called ihe Garden, addressed to him by Cowley, 435, -136. his books rela- ting to the Jesuits, 500, and note, his an- swer to Sir G. Mackenzie concerning his Tract on Public Employment, xvii. xviii. 504. his account of his translation of Freart's idea of the perfection of painting, 554. his letter to Lord Brouncker on the Spanish Sembrador, 621. notice concerning his poetical works, ix. C23 n. requested to write the history of the Dutch war, 628 n. notice of ditto, xix, xx. his letter to Mr. Aubrey concerning an oak at Wotton, &c. 687. his letter to the Royal So- ciety on the damage done to his gardens, in 1683, 692. his last publication, 722. notice of his Elysium Brilaunicum, xx. 722. allusions to his Hortulan Kalendar, 729. his plan for a royal garden, 730,731, 732. translation of Gassenrius' Life of Peiresk, dedicated to, 747 n. various references to, and quotations from his Memoirs and Diary, xiii. lo5 n. 112 n. 113 n. 148 n. 152 n, 153 n. 155 n. 158 n. 165 n. 171 n. 175 n. 194. 207 n. 243 n. 333 n. 339 n. 341 n. 342 n. 343 n. 351 n. 4S5 n. 500. 510. 554. 556 n. 557 n. 569 n. 62S n. 692 n. 693 n. 698. 714 n. dedications, prefaces, and addresses by, 5. 97. 99, 100, 101. 105. 112. 20/— 209. 212. 243. 337. 343.351. 353. 499.499. ,505. 507. 55.5—558, 559—562. 565. .567. 623. 627. 714. 723. 728. various references and quotations from his other works, vii. — xxii. 157 n.209. 339. 427. 434. 444 n. 449 n. 4.50, 451 n. 452 n. 461 n. 464. 472. 476. 480. 4S3. 487 n. 687. Evelyn, George, Esq. dedications addressed to, 5 105. . , Mary, supposed author of the Mundus Muliebris, xx. 69S. — — — , powder mills brought to England by the family of, 689. damage done by their explo- sions, ib. , Richard, jun. son to John, his enrlv death, 105. precocious abilities of, 107. 108. piety of, 109, 110. blessedness of his death, 111. Latin epitaph on, 112. -, Richard, Ksq.dedication addressed to, 105. Europa, fable of exjilained, 640. Eurythmia, harmony and proportion in architec- ture, 372. Eusebius, Bishop of CcEsarea, reference lo his life of Constantine, 33. his account of the origin and progress of commerce, 647. Eusebius, Pamphilus, his idea of the invention of letters and sculpture, 26". Eustylos, an inteicolumniation so called, 3S9. Exchequer of France, offices of the, 73. Exotics destroyed at Says Court in 16S3, 693, 694. Faber, Honoratus, his method for rapidly raising sal lad, 780. Fable, a Persian one concerning court favourites, 35. Fairfax, Thomas, Lord, particulars of, 177 n. Faithoine, William, excellent engravings by, 310. work on engravings by, 335. Falcon Inn, curious particulais concerning the^ 223 and note. F'anie, not due to inactivity, 511. the love of ex- cites to virtue, 512. Familiarity and rudeness of the English censured, 91. 149, 1.50. 162. definitionof worthy, 535. Fascias, dimensions and description of, 392. Fasting days recommended to youth, 132. Fathers, their solicitude for richly clothing their children censured, 113. compared to kings and governois of cities, 115, 116. improved by the education of their children, 130. gene- ral concluding directions to, 137, the ancient christian, refrained from eating flesh, 784, 78S. Fauconnier, Grand, of France, 62. Fa\i, Signor Giacomo Maria, eulogy on, 246. account of him by M. Sorbiere, 247- curious collections of art made by, 248. his great ge- nius and travels, 249. his remains and in- tended publication, 250. Favfwinus, his servility, 34. commended a Quar- tan Ague, 229. Favourites of kings too often courted, 34, 35. February, length of days, &c. in, 447. work to be done in, in the orchard and kitchen garden, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, 448. work to be in the flower garden in, ib. Fellian, J., a pupil of Faithorne, 310. Females, no succession of in the royal family of France, 54. allowed peerages in France, 59. should not be allowed to ajiproach youth, 126, 128. their vanity censured by St. Chrysostom and Juvenal, 139. comparison between those of England and France, 161 Fennel, medicinal qualities of, in Sallad, 741. Ferdinand, King of Spain, his encouiageraent of Columbus rewarded, 655. Ferry-boats, by whom invented, 637. Feuilhintines, their vegetable diet, 789. Fifth-Monarchy-men, of whom they were com- posed, 523. ' Figs, catalogue of the best, 496. Figuliita Vasa Ceelata, anecdote of the, 272. F'igures, pedestals ])roper for various, 376. an- ciently used for coUunns, 391. for acroteria, 4l(>. to correspond with their Niches, 418. appropriate one placed on public buildings, 421. Filberds, catalogue of the best sorts of, 497. Fillet, a name of the astragal, 378. 5 N 826 GENERAL INDEX. Finances of France, sujienntendant of, his duties and officers, 04. , Controller General of, 05. Finiffuerra, Maso, supposed inventor of engraving, 277. Finisliing:, not the most important part of draw- ing, 315. Fisheries, right of the English to the, 677, G7S, C79. 6S3, 6S4. CS6. their importance to Eng- land, (SSI, (iS'2, GS3. licenses granted for using the, 6S3, 684. Fishmongers, Erasmus' satire on, 937. Flag, duty of the, ancient English claim of, 675. Flattery, remarkable instances of, 3'2, 33, 37- Flemish engravers and their works, notices of, 277, 27S. 290—302. Flemings, their settlement in England, G6'Z. Flesh, the eating of productive of heaviness, 7S0. the use of first permitted to man, 7S3, 784, 7S5. Floors, of inlaid wood, 423. works on the con- struction of, ib. Fiora Historica, notice of the Gilly flower from the, 466 n. Florence, weavers of guarded against coal smoke, 227. Floris, Francis, the Flemish Michel Angelo, 902. Florus, L. Annaeus Lucian, his account of Pom- pey's pirate wars, 644. Flower-garden, directions for working in the, in January, 446. do. for February, 44S. do. in March, 45] . do. for April, 456". do. for May, 460. do. for June, 465. do. for July, 469. do. for August, 473. do. for September, 477. do. for October, 480. do. for November, 484. do. for December, 4SS. Flowers proper fur planting near London, 240, 241. Flowers, in prime and lasting in January, 446. do. in February, 449. do. in March, 454. do. in Ajjril, 45S. do. in May, 461. do. in June, 466. do. in July, 471- do. in .August, 475. do. in September, 478. do. in October, 481. do. in November, 486. do. in December, 488. classed list of tender and hardy, 4S9. taking up of, directions for, 463. 466. 470. 473, 474. damage done to by the winter of 1683, 695, 696. what sorts of are used in sallad, 741. Foliage of the Corinthian capital considered, 409. Food, the use of various kinds considered, 'SO, 781,782,783. Fop Dictionary, 1690, reprint 710 — 713. Forces of France, account of, 76. S3, 84, 85. Forest Trees, destruction of, and Evelyn's work on, xiv. Foundation, what it is, and its parts, 374. Fountains, -ancient figures and ornaments of, 421. their pipes to be covered in the winter, 4&S. France, (vide Paris,) tract on the state of, umler Louis Xir. viii. 30 — 95. excuse for writing of, 41. 51. intent of, 42. use of residing in. 50, 51. importance of the Empire of, 52. Machiavelli's saying of, ib. King of, absolute, 53. its patron .Saint changed, ib. founda- tion and races of its monarchy, ib. pretended Saliciue Law of, 54. ancient legend of, ib. titles and births of tlie Kings and Princes of, ib. characters of the Roval Family of, 55. daughters of, how disposed of, 56. late King of, without illegitimate issue, ib. how the King be- came absolute, ib. 57, 58. Parliament of, only a name, 57. Princes and Peers of, nature of their estates, 58. names and number of the Peers of, 59. officers belonging to the Crown of, CO — 62. ceremony at the death of tiie King of, 60. household and officers of the Queens of, 62. Royal guard of, 62 — 64. increase of the revenues of, by King Pepin, 65, 66. domain of, cannot be alienated, 66. Nobilitv and Clergy free from taxes, ib. the King of, his galjels on salt, ib. 67. do. his immense reve- nue, 67. officers and councils of State in, ib. manner of proceeding in them, 63. officers of justice of France, 69. Secretaries of Slate of, 70. other officers of, ib. officers of the ParliamenI of, ib. 71- cities of, whicli have Parliaments, 72. difference between them and that of Paris, ib. Exchequer Offices of, 73. great military officers of, 74. officers of the Crown of, 75. Grand Piieur de, liis rank and office, 76. military and naval forces of, ib. S3, 84, 85. orders of Knighthood in, 77. eccle- siastical members and church of, 78. 87. pre- sent Government of, 78. various ranks of, 79. rebellions not prosperous in, SO. Commons and farmers of, ib. auxiliaries to the armies of, ib. mechanics of, ib. 90. merchants of, 81. Nobility of, their dress and manner of living, ib. learning much pretended to in, ib. ecclesiastical state of, 82. Catholics of, ib. Protestants of, ib. 8S. sects of, S3, advan- tageous scite of, ib. abundance of its jiopiila- tion and provision, 86. state of its arms, &c. ib. ancient and modern acquisitions of, 87. fortifications of, ib. present exalted state of, ib. nature and genius of the inhabitants of, 83. learned men in, 89. physicians and sur- geons of, ib. youth and women of, 90,91. passions and character of the people of, 91. the Kins reverenced in, ib. dislike of the English in, 92. persons and temper of the people of, ib. its frequent changes, 05. no- tice of the tract entitled A Character of Fiance 1659, 143 n. character of the Royal Palaces" in, 149n. Protestants in, their customs, 1.53. satire on the gallants and females of, 156 n. 157 n. 158n. 159n. 160 n. 161 n. manners in, ])referable to those of England, 162, 163. odoriferous atmosphere of some towns in, 2()S. excellence of the air in, 225. vines of injured by the smoke from England, 234. notices of the principal engravers of, and their works. GENERAL INDEX. 827 303 — 309. eminent print collectors in, 32S. encouragement of navigation in, 634. absur- dity of its claim to naval dominion.. 609. Francis I. King of Fiance, his intention to call in the Turks censured, 84. good effects of his love for learning, 3'Z. how he became learned 540. his naval wars, 651. Franco, Baptista, engravings executed by, 1S4. Freart, Roland, Sieur de Chambray, Epistles De- dicatory attached to Evelyn's Translation of the ParMel of Architecture, 337. authors cited in, 34'2. excellence of the work, 343. Latin verses in praise of, 347. various refer- ences to do. XV. 382. 391. 395. 404. 411. in- troductory epistles attached to Evelyn's Trans- lation of his Idea of the Perfection of Paint- ing, £53 — 562. Evelyn's account of do. xix. 554. and character of, 559. FreggiOj what is signified by, 394. French, their vanity in altering the Composite order, 410. rise and progress of theirnavigation and commci'ce, 650. their acknowledgements of British naval sovereignty, 674, 675. pri- vilege of fishing granted to, by the English, 677- acknowledge the English claim to ihe fisherit'S, 6S5. French Gardiner, 1658. 1669, Epistles Dedica- tory to the, 9S, 99. account of the editions of the, xi. 97 n. various references to the, 441. Frieze, in Architecture, descri|)tion and nature of ■ a, 394. in the Doric Order, 407. Frigates, the first attributed to the English, 638. Frisius, Simon, his etchings, 293. Frontiers of France, fortifications of the, 87. Frontinus, Sextus Julius, Roman marine stores mentioned by, 646. Frosts, cautions relating to, 453. 474. 487. F'ruit, various directions for preserving, 451.4*5. 479. 483. remarks concerning the eating of, 773 and note. Fruits, exquisite nature of, 439. vide Orchard, names of those in prime and lasting in Janu- ary, 445. do. in February, 448. do. in .March, 451. do. in April, 456. do. in May, 460. do. in June, 465. do. in July, 4GS. do. in August, 472. do. in September, 476. do. in October, 480. do. in November, 484. do. for Decenibei', 437. Fj'uit-trees, directions for preserving the moisture in, 564. do. for feeding of, 467. catalogue of the best, 495. damage done to, by the winter of 1683, 695. Fumifugium, 1662, notice of, xii. reprint of, 205 — 242. preface to the reprint of 1772,212. Analysis of the tract referred to, 215 n. Fungus Reticularis, its place of growth and par- ticulars of the, 746, 747. Furnace, vide Stove. Furniture, li:t of old English, used by fem.ales, 707, 70s. Gabels paid upon salt, in France, 66. immense profit and rigorous exaction of, 67- Galifarel, Jacques, his account of Talismans, 269. Galenus, Claudius, various references to, and quo- tations from, 227. 236. 734 n. 743, 744 n. 752. 754. 757, 758. 777- 787. Galeres, G($n6ral des, his rank and office, 75. Gallants of England, intemperate and unpolished customs of the, 157. 159. 160. 163. their in- feriority to those of France, 161. some ex- ceptions to this, 163. advice to, on entering upon the town, 699. Galle, Cornelius, notice of his works, 2E5. Theodore, his engraved works, 296. Galli Insubres, Caesar's saying concerning the, SS. Callus Caslratus, an answer to ihe Character of England, 1659, notice of, ix. reprint of the, 143 n. — 162 n, author of it censured, 143, 144, 145, 146. opening address of, to the ladies of England, 144n. censure of the au- thor of the Character of England, ib. 145 n. 151 n. ].'^>2n. scurrilous examination of that work, 146n.— 162n. Gama, Vasco di, discoveries in Asia made by, 648. Game and wild-fowl destroyed by moor-burning, 235. Gaujesters, debasing nature of their pleasures, 545. Garden, The, letter and poem by Cowley so called, xvi. 435, 436. plan for a royal one, 730, 731, 732. Garden-tools to he kept in order, 445. Gardens, list of the luxuries attached to ancient, 98. and orchards of London, damaged by the smoke, 212. 221. improvement of, during the siege of Newcastle, 222. jjroposal for plant- ing, near London, 240. jraem in praise of, 436. the enjoyments of, 429. 437, 438. 440. first made by God, 437. the Creator to be seen in, 441. vide Flower-garden, Olitory, Or- chard, Parterre, notice of the Apothecaiies at Chelsea, 485 n. of Says Court, damage dono to the, in 1683, 692—696. Gardener, excellence and industry of Ihe life of a good one, 430. should be acquainted with Astronomy, 431. Gardener's Almanack, vide Kalendarium. Gardeners, plan for the encouragement and bene- fit of, near London, 241, 242. Gardening, anciently encouraged at Rome, 726 and note, extensive nature of the study of, 728, 729. Garlick, qualities, character of, and manner of dressing, 741, 742. Gassendus, Peter, translation of his Life of Pei- resk dedicated to Evelyn, 747 n. Gassion, Mareschal de, preserves Paris from the Spanish, 94. 828 GENERAL INDEX. Gates of a city allegorised, 116, 117. 119- 126, 1'27, 12S. Gelliiis, Aulus, liis mention of the adoxous of the Greeks, "30, and note. Gems, sculptuies used on, 271. names of emi- nent artists in, 2S9. Generals of the English Parliament, instances of their fall, and biographical notices of, 176 — 179 and notes. Generalties of France explained, 6.5. Genoa, odoriferous atmosphere of, 208. com- merce the cause of its wealth, 632. Tunny- fishery formed by, 6S6. Genoese, their trade and navigation, 652. naval exploits of the, 653. Gens' d'Armes of France, notice of, 64. Gentry of England, their ignorance of architec- ture lamented, 362. Gerkins, or Gerckems, method of preserving, 740. German language, excellent use of the, 50. Germany, account of the principal engravers of, and their works, 277. 290—302. Giolito, Gabrielle, his enijravings for Ariosto, 2S4. Gilly-flower, varieties of the, 4G5 n. etymology of the name, 446 n. Glasses moulded into form by labour, 139. Globe, the doctrine of shadows illustrated by a, 321. Gloves, list of those anciently worn by females, 705. Gluttony, how to guard against it in children, 124. Glyphice, sculptors of metals, 258. Glyphion, Stylus, notice concerning, 261. Goar, James, reference to, concerning the sacri- fice of the hair, 13S. Goats' -beard, medicinal qualities of, 742. Gold, the power of, in courtship, 705. Goldman, Nicholas, refeience to his Treatise on Architecture, 3S2. Goltzius, Henry, his excellent engraiings, 294. his imitations of Lucas Van Leyden, 302. hi= singular drawings with a pen and oil, 316. . , Hubert, his heads of the Roman Empe- rors on wood, 302. Gomboust, Mons. his plan of Paris, 309. Gooseberries, catalogue of the best kinds of, 496. Gorlaeus, Abraham, his account of ancient engraved rings and seals, 269. Goths, their invasion destroyed the Roman arts, 273. in\asion of the, the origin of Monachism, 532. and Vandals, their navigation, 649. Goudt, Count, plates by him, 295. Government, modern of France, 7S. character of ditto, 79. of Paris described, 94. Governors of Provinces in France, their rank and commission, 76. G. P. L B by whom used as a mark, 291. Gracchus, Caius, censured for retiring from his duty, 518. Gradetti, their meaning and place on columns, 379.38). Graef-sex, of the Danes and Norwegians explained, 273. Grafting, the wondeiful nature of celebrated by Cowley, 441. various directions concerning, 447.449. 4.S3. Grand Conseil of France, nature and office of the, 68, 69. Granger, Rev. James, his character of Sir John Hotham, 177 n. his notice of the Princess of Bohemia, 326 n. Grapes in prime and lasting in September, 477. ditto in October, 480. Graphatores, engravers, 261. Gratius, Faliscus, verses fmm, 795. Grave, Robert, his engraiings from a curious pic- ture at Strawberry-hill, 101 n. 432 n. Greatness, why some persons shim it, 512. honr it should be achieved and secured, 516. the best defence against censure, &c. 517. Greeks, their tradition concerning slaves, 10. their custom of sacrificing their hair, 133. earliest writings known to, 268. when they received and perfected sculpture, ibid. 270. drawing, &c. cultivated by, 326. architecture derived from the, 355. , their naval exploits and discoveries, 742. fall of the, 643. Greftier en Chef, Clerk of the Parliament of France, his office and pension, 72. Green-houses and green-house-plants, various di- rections concerning, 453. 4*8. 484. 488. me- thods of warming, 485. 492, 493, 491. 497, 498. vide Conservatory, errors of I he com- mon green-house, 490, 491. proper measure- ments, &c. for, 491. notice of Sir Dudley Cul- lum's, 497n. Greenland, its discovery and appropriation to England, 683. Greenwich Pal.ace, Barclay's praise of, 232. Grenoble, Chambre INliparties established in, 72. Grenville, Sir Richard, his \aliant engagement with the Spaniards, 664. Gresham College, meetings of the Royal Society at, 5,56' n. Greuter, Matthew, his engraved works, 294. , Frederick, plates by, 295. Grew, Dr. Nehemiah, his tables of the tastes of plants, 764 and note, liis mention of vegeta- ble salts, 766. Groennighen, Swart Jan Van, character of his engravinijs, 302. Grotius, Hugo, various references to, and quota- tions from. 111. 636. 661. 664, 665. 673 and note, 788. Gruter, Janus, various references to and quota- tions from, 646 n. 670. Gryllus, his transmigration, 761. Guard of the French King described, 62. GKNERAL INDEX. 829 Guernsey lily, direction for tiie planting of, &c. 457. Guide, RafFaelle, notice of his engravings, 2S8. Gustavus I. King of Sweden, immense sliip built by, 652. Gunpowder Plot, contrived by a recluse, 522. GuttiE or drops in areliitecture, 395. Guttemberg, Jolin, the supposed inventor of priming, 27G- Gymnastic exercises and academies of the French, "S5. Gypsochi, workers in plaster, 258. H. Hadrianus, Emperor of Rome, his love for Anti- nous, 30. Hair, ancient sacrifices of, and method of wearing it, 113. I3f^. teclmical words for the dressing of it, &c.7U>, 711,712. Hukhiyt, Rev. Richard, his collection of voyages, 665 n. Halifax, Charles Montague, Earl of, notice of, 723 n. Hampden, John, notice of his death, 178 n. Harlaem, City of, bleachers of the, prohibit the use of coal, 228. Harmony and proportion in architecture, 3*2. Har[)agus, cruel treatment of by Astyages, 33. Harrington, James, allusion to the coarseness of language in his Oceana, 145. notice of him, ibid. n. Hatching, in drawing, what it is, 314,315. in enCTaving, diiections and plate illustrative of the various effects produced by, 320, 321, 322. single ones recommended 322. counter hatch- ings sometimes of good effect, 323. Havens of France, vessels riding in the, 84. Havre de Grace, motto on the artillery of, 58. Head, examples of shadows falling on one, 321. Head-dresses, anciently worn by ladies in Eng- land, 706, 707. terms used in, 710, 711, 712. Health-diinking in France, uncompulsive nature of, 160. defence of the custom, 15Sn. Hearing, advice for guarding the sense of in chil- dren, 119. Heart, supposed to be the seat of anger, 128. ' Heaven, not a place of indolence, 523. Heathens, their custom of sacrificing their hair, 138. Heliodorus, Bishop of Tricca, amiable disposition of, U>9. Hemicircular arch, 386. Henrietta-Maria, Queen of Charles I. her orange- trees and oiange-garden sold, 460 n. Henry III. King of England, his institution of naval commanders, 671. V. • , his sovereignty over the seas, 672. Henry VH. Kingof England, his naval forces, 663. his increase of the fisheries, 678. VIII. , his naval forces, 663. emblem used on his coin, 674. Henry III. King of France, effectsof his example, 32. institutes the Order of St. Esprit, 77. Henshaw, Thomas, Esq. epistles dedicatory to, 97- 99. account of, 97 n. Heraclea, naval battle at, 643. Herbs, diiections for gathering and drying, 464. directions for making a tart of, 809. Hercules, Hesiod's account of his shield, 269. Heraclitus, liis contempt of worldly power, 26. Herbert, Lord Edward, of Cherbury, reference to his History of Henry VIII., 663 n. Hermits, their unhealthy abodes, 224. their superstitious and useless lives of, 530. notice concerning tl' «.'arly ones, 532. Herodotus Halicarnassensis, various references to and quotations from, 22. 33.2;o. 639. 749. Herring fishery, amazing extent and produce of the, 680. 682. rent due for the to England from the Dutch, 681. Hertford, Sir William Seymour, Marquess of, his house and gardens in the Strand, 222. notice of him, ibid. n. Hertocks, A. plates engraved by, 300. Hesiod various references to and quotations from, 268, 269. 761. Hesychius, reference to concerning the impiety of Tiibonius, 33. Hevelius or Heveike, John, plates in his Seleno- grnph'ui, 1647,301. Heuter, Pontus, his mention of the naval exploits of the Dutch, 6.59 n. Hexastylos, signification of in architecture, 388. Hills of Surrey, various particulars concerning the 688, 689. Hiensius, his eulogy on vermin, 230. Hiero, his floating palace, 637. Hieroglyphics, what they were, 266. of the Danes, notice of, 273, of the Mexicans, 2/5. Hieionicae, where preserved, 268. Hippagines, ferry-boats invented by, 637. Hippocrates, various references to and illustra- tions from, 216, 217.236. 241. 752. 778. 789. Hippodromes, ancient ornaments and figures of, 421. Hippus, large vessels invented by, 637. Historians, fame given by the best only, 533. their I'evvards neglected, 512. Holbein, Hans, larity of his engravings on wood, 294. old English sea-fight painted by, Giii 11. Holborn, ancient improvements in, 345. Holland, its wants and abundance equally great, 631. wealth of arising from the heiring fishery, 681, 682. Hollar, VVenceslaus, multitude and excellence of his etchings, 300. jdates lelating to London, 309. his views round London, &c. 311. 830 GENERAL INDEX. I Holly, fine one destroyed at Says Conn, 6'<)5. Holthuzen, his skill in engraving on wiiod, ^94. Homer, various references to, and illustrations from, IS. 43. 26S, 169. 640. 749. 774 n. Hondius, William, his maps and other engravings, 29.9. Hooker, Robert, notice of, G22 n. Hoole, Chailes, bad plates to his edition of Com- inenius, 330. Hops, how to be used and dressed, 7-l'2. Hoqueneourt, JMareschal de. Grand Pievot of France, 62. Horapollinis Nota;, hieroglyphical obelisks, 166. Horatius Flacens, Quintus, various leferences to, and quotations fmni, 139. 2.-)9. £71. 313. 329. 636. 644 n. 744. "47 n. 763 n. 773 n. 778 n. 7S2 and note. 796 n, 797- Horologiuni Beatce Maria;, earliefit European let- ters in, 275. Horsemanship, natural excellence of the French in. So. Horse, Master of the in France, his oITicers, 61. Horse-Radish, Spanish bkick, method of pre- j)aring, 752. Horses, causes of their many diseases, 7S1. occa- sional longevity of, ib. Ho3ts of taverns in London, amazing success of, 157. 166. Hot-beds, various directions concerning, 449. 452. 456. Hotel de Bourgoigne, a theatre in Paris, 164 n. Hotham, Sir John, his character Iw Granger, 177 n. execution of him and his son, 17S n. Housekeeping, descriptive account of old English, 700, 701. Houses, general order and heights of rooms in, 369. bad situations often selected for, 370. continual repairs of, costly, ib. tiat-ioofed ones of the Jews, 3/5. Howard, Henry, of Norfolk, dedication to, 555. his protection and encouragement of the Royal Society, ib. 556 n. Howel, James, his Instructions fur Forrebte Tru- rel, viii. , Dr. William, his defence of early British navigation, 659 and note. Hoyle, Thomas, biographical particulars of, 179 n. H. S. B. by whom used as a mark, 291. Humboldt, Frederick Baron Von, his specimen of Mexican Hieroglyphics, 275 n. Humours of children to be frequently crossed, 129. Hundred gentlemen of the Guard of France, 62. Huntei-, Dr. Andrew, his edition of Evelt/u's Sylca, 1772, xiv. editions of Evelyn's other works by, note, XV. Hyde Park, ancient description of, 165. a toll on entering it, 165 n. Hvdride, or water pots engraven, 272. Hypethrej how it is formed, 391. Hy))otracheliuni, in architecture, its derivation and nieanine, 380. Hyssop, medicinal virtues of, 742. Jack-by-the-Hedge, its vegetable uses, 742. Jamblichus, reference to concerning- Pythagoras, 18. James L King of England, his act against' Moor burning, 234. fine ships built by, 666. his sovereignty ovei" the seas, 67 1. his proclama- tion conceining his sovereignty of the seas and fisheries, 67S, 679. limits the seas round Eng- land, 679. prohibits fishing in the island fishery, 6S3. Jansen, Cornelius, Bishop of Yjires, his sect in France, S3, notice of him, ib. n. January, length of days in, 443, work to be done in, in the orchaid and kitchen-garden, ib. fruits in jjrime and lasting in, 445. woik for the parterre and tlower-garden in, 446. How- ers in prime and lasting in, ib. Japan, encouragement ot artists by the Emperor of, 317. J. B. M. signification of the mark, 2S2. Ibrahim, Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, his de- scent, 569. becomes attached to a slave's child, 571. nearly drowns his son, ib. per- mits his Aga to go to Mecca, 572. his war with the Venetians, 576.' his issue particu- larized, 577. Ichnography in architecture, derivation and ex- jilanation of, 371. Idolatiy, the origin of, 266. Jeglicr, Christopher, his wood-cut of Rubens' Temptation of Christ, 297. Jerm.iin, Lord H. Republican calumny of, 195 n. 197. Jerome, St. reference to concerning the fallen angels, 10. concerning travel, 44. passage from his epitaph on Marcellus, I07 n. his cha- I'.icter of Heliodorus, 109. his account of the early hcrmils, 532 n. Jesiii/ism, the Mystery of, notice of Evelyn's trans- luti(m of 1664, xvii. Jesuits of Spain, their endeavours to alienate the jjcople of France, S8. iiitamous conduct of the, 499. volumes relative to the in the library at Wotton; 500 n. Jewels, list of anciently used by females in Eng- land, 704, 705. 709. 711. Jews, their liat-roofed houses, 375. their ex- pectations of a Messiah, 587, 5SS, 589. 592. letter to the from the false Elias, 591. their j)enance, alms, &c. in expectation of the Mes- siah, 592, b'.)3. his declaration to the, 594, 595. fictitious princes appointed over the, 596. their constancy to the false IMessiah, '>i)S. conduct of those at Constantinople to him, 599. GENERAL INDEX. 831 fheir visitations to ditto. 600. CO.t. form of prayer a|)pointed forthe, by ditto, ib. GOl. their honours to him, 602. disbelief of sume con- cerning him, ib. tlieir revenge against such, 603. their prc[iaralions, &.C. for Elia?, ib.604, 60.5. fheir distress and derision of, on discovcr- ii!g the impostuie of Sabutai Sevi, 608, 609. their assertion concerning hiin, ib. orders re- lating to hiiu sent to llie, ib. miracles attri- buted by t!ie Jews to him, 611. some still believe on hiiu and Nathan, ib. letter to the, against Nathan Benjamin, 612, 613, history of their extirpation fiom Persia, 615 — 620. their settlement in ditto, 615. their usury and danger in ditto, 616. examination of the, by the Sophy, ib. 61*. assign a period for the Messiah's coming, 618. cause of their tcriible destruction throughout Persia, 619. Impostors, history of the three late famous, 1GC9, notice of, xix. reprint of, 563 — 620. vide Mahomed, Ottomano, Sabatai, Turks, Venetians. Imposts in Architecture explained, 3.S5. Inactivity, not the life of the Almighty, 51o. Ci- cero's censure of, 511. not deserving of fame, ib. nor worthy of ambition, 512. Incumbse, vide Imposts. Independence, the sum of liberty, 12. Independents in England during the ciul wars, 155. their miserable character, 156. India, ancient marts for its merchandise, and circuitous modes of trading to, 643. new passage to, discovered by the Portugese, 649. Indies, East and West, vievcs, &c. of, recom- mended to be engraven, 311. Infanterie de la France, Colonel of, his lucrative office, 75. compared with the Spanish, 85. Machiavel's saying concerning the, ib. im- proving state of the, S6. Inferior officers of the French Court, 61. Ink-maker in China, his privileges, 275. Insects, various directions for removing, 455. 466. 468. 476. feeding on herbs indicative of their nature, 761. their eggs to be removed fiom sallads, ib. Insulata Columna, what it signifies in architec- ture, 3S8. Intaglia, an Italian seal, 262. very ancient use of, 269. Intemperance, not the vice of the greatest per- sons, 547. Intercolumniation, what it signifies in Architec- ture, 388. Intoxication, common in England, and fatal ef- fects of it, 159. Jode, Peter de, his engravings after Vandyke, 297. and other works, 293. John, King of England, great naval force of, 661. Duty of the Flag claimed by, 675. .Johnson, Dr. Samuel, his authorities for the derivation of Gilliflower, 466 n. Jones, Inigo, his banquetting house compared with Henry the Seventh's chapel, 'i66. Ionic Order, capital of the, 357. how its base is formed, 376. situation of the Astragal in the, 37s. Volute in the, 382. Siriges in the, 383. Inteicolumniatlon in the, 3S8. Dentelli in the 397. Modillions of the, 398. historical ac- count, description, and |)arts of the, 408. Joppa, astronomical sculptures erected at, 264. Josciihus, Flavius, his notion of the origin of let- ters, 267. his idea of the oldest Greek writ- ings, 268. his idea of the origin of commerce, 633. Journal of Science, Literature, and the Arts, analy- sis of Evelyn's Fumifugium in the, 215 n. Ireland, dangerous air of, 218. Iron weajions, the carrying of, made a capital of!'ence, 262. Iieton, Henry, biographical particulars of, 179 n. Isabella of Castile, her encouragement of Colum- bus rewarded, 655. Isles, a double portico, 391. Isocrates, his praise of men usefully learned, 542. Israel Van Mechlin, one of the earliest copper- plate engravers, 276. Italians, their phrase for the ho|ie of a Courtier, 28. Italy, excuse for not fully treating of, 51. ac- count of the prinei[ial engravers of, and their works, 279 — 289. architects and architecture encouraged in, 362 seasons in, to be care- fully observed bv gardencis, 431. July, length of the days in &c. 467. vvork to be in, in the orchard and kitchen garden, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, 468. work to be done in, in the parterre and flower garden, 469. flowers in ])rime and lasting in, 471. Jumbel Aga. Chief Eunuch of the Seraglio, 569. a slave bought for him, 570. brings up her natural child, ib. incurs the Sultana's hatred, ib. vainly tries to resign his office, 571. but. at length departs for Mecca, 572. Dominican Friar burned by, ib. storm on his v<)3-aee ib. his fight with Maltese vessels and death, .'^73. Jime, length of the days in, &c. 463. vvork to be done in, in the orchard and kitchen garden, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, 465. work to be done in the i)arterre and flower garden in, ib. flowers in prime and lasting in, 466. Junius, Francis, praise of his Lexicon, 354. his his translation of a passage in Kings, 260. his names for the style, 261, 262. Justice, officers of, in France, 69. Justin Martyr, his assertion concerning Socrates, 26. his account of Greek navigation referred to, 612 n. Justinian, Emperor, Tribonius' flattery of, 33. Justinus, M. Junianus, his history of the Greek wars, 642 and note. Juvenal, Decius Junius, various references to and cpiotations from, 138, 139. 259. 697. 712. 749. Ivory, ancient names for gravers and carvers in, 2uS. 832 GENERAL INDEX. > Kalendariiim tJortense, 1664, notice (if, xvi. le- print of do. 425 — i98. bibliographical note on the editions, &c. of the, 41' . introduction to the, 430. importance of the monthly direc- tions and mctliod pursued in, 431, 432, 433. notice of the authors consulted for, 434. let- ter and poeui addressed to Evelyn on this work, 435, 436. vide the respective months. Keckermann, Dr. Bartholomew, his praise of the English navigation, (JfiC. Kephalidion, what it signifies, 3S3. Key-stone, its use, 386, 3b7. general rule for or- namenting the, 4'2'-2. Kilianus, Lucas, engravings executed by, '299. King-killing, History of, 1719. particulars of the life of Dorislaus from the, l/S n. Kings, servitude of, 14. wise men called so by the Stoics, 17. modesty to be observed in the presence of, 34. their love of extensive power, ib. the source of honour, 3.5. the servants of vanity, 38. effects of the government of pow- erful and prudent sovereigns, 5'2, £3. evil con- sequences from forsaking of, 52. of France, absolute, 53. 56, 57- titles of do. 54. of France, ceremony at their death, 60. do their gtiard, 62. do. ancient revenue of, 65, 66. do. amount of their present revenue, 67- do. his afiability and the reverence he expe- riences, 91. their abdication censured, 517. examples of excellent, 526, 527. deaths of by recluses, 52S. their power of dismissing bad courtiers and advancing good men, 533. learn- ing greatly derived from, 546. should be at- tended by an eastern minister, 567. Kings of England, their sovereignty over the seas, 672. their rights on the seas, 675. ex- tent of their sovereignty on do. 677- 6S5. Kircher, Athanasius, his mention of the obelisks of Misra, &c. 265, 266. Kitchen-garden, vitle Olilory. Knighthood, Orders of in France, 77. L. Labacco, Antonio, liis book of architecture, 2S4. Lacedemonians, their pride, 521. Lactantius, God's inactivity rejected bv, 510. Ladies of England, their free and intemperate customs, 158. 160. defended from those as- sertions, 155 n. 156 n. 159 n. 160 n. their skill in card playing, 160, 161. inferiority of their treatment to that customary in France, 161. censure of their dress and manners, 162. some exceptions to this, 163 conduct of in Hyde Park, 165. their expectations of their admirers, 699. manners of the old English, 701, 702. poetical 56 n. its encouragement from Lords Chancellors, 723. its frequent removals, 724. Royalists of England, their suflerings during the civil wars, 174.179. 183, 184. had no tlioughts of vengeance, 195 n. 204. R. S. signification of, 280. Rubens, Sir Peter Paul, engravings after his works, 296. his attention to costume, 560. Rudder, by whom invented, 637. Rueus, Francis, his account of Talismans, 269. Runic writings of the Danes and Norwegians, ac- count of, 273. Rupert, Prince, his excellent engravings and etchings, 324. his new invented kind of en- graving, 333, 334. his encouj"agement of naval discoveries, 665. S. Sabatai Sevi, pretended Messiah of the Jews, his story and impostures, 58* — 614. state of af- fairs at his first appearance, 587. his real de- scent and education, 588. banished from Smyrna and married, ib. travels and reforms the Jewish law, ib. and commences his impos- ture, 589. spread of do. ib. letter to do. 590. his directions to the Jews, 591. his arrival at, and disputations in Smyrna, 593. his recep- tion and declaration of his oihce there, 594. amazing spread of his imposture, 595. delu- sions of, and Jewish Princes made by, 596. his false Miracle, 597- departs to Constanti- nople, and his imprisonment there, 59S. ad- dress to the Jews there, 599. his prison changed, ib. visitations of the Jews to, 600. 605. and a new form of prayer established by, 600, 601. honouis paid to by the Jews, 602. his announcement of Elias, 604. his dispute with Nehemiah Cohen, 606. imposture of, discovered to the Tiu'ks, 607- is carried to the Grand Signer, ib. announces his imposition and becomes a Turk, 608. assertioir of the Jews concerning him, 609. order published in Smyrna relating to, ib. farther miracles attri- buted to him, 611. his imposture still sup- ported, ib. 612. Sacraments, neglected in England during the civil wars, 153. Sacrifice, ancient place of with the Jews, 236. Sadeler, Justus, John, iEgidius, and Ralph, their engravings, 292. 302. Saenredamus, John, notice of his works, 295. Saffron, use of in sallad, 767. Sage, nature and use of, 753. Sails, by whom invented and manoeuvred, 638. Salamanca, Antonio, engravings by, 285. Salique law of France, deceitful intent of, 54. Sallail, rapid means of raising, 779, 780. com- mon nature of the Roman, 792, 793. 795, 796. dishes, directions concerning, 768. gatherers, basket for, 76S. Sallad-ali-Sorts, directions for composing, 809. Sallads, vide Acetaria. general signification of, 733, 734. furniture and materials of, 734. easily procured in Fiance and Italy, ib. names of several sorts anciently used, 744. 757, 758. remarks on the gatherers of, 760. skill required in the selecting and dressing oi, 761. general physical qualities of, 762. 764. con- geniality in the composing of, 763, 764. di- rections for the dressing of, 765. 768. list of herbs for making of, 768, 769. tables of their species, ordering, and culture, 769, 770. di- rections on the seasons for gathering, com- posing, and dressing, 771, 772. 774, 775, 776. times for eating considered, 7/2, 773. Sallow or Sally, a natne for the willow, 240. Salmasius, Claude, his notice of Cavatores, &c. 261. do. of painted ceilings, 401. his direc- tion concerning sallads, 734. Salt, French duty paid upon, 66. immense profits and arbitrary exaction of, do. 67. directions for using in sallads, 766. Samphire, (lualities and growth of, 753. direc- tions for ])ickling, 806. Sandwich, the Earl of, a practiser of engraving, 325. Sarto, Andrea del, his copies from the prints of A. Durer, 319. Satire, useful for the improvement of a nation, 144. 147. Savile, Sir Henry, his edition of Si. Chrijsostom's works, 1610-12, 140. Says Court, damage done to the garden of in 1683,692. Scalae Cochlides, winding stairs, 387. Scalae Ocultae, back stairs, 387. Scaliger, Julius Ctesar, and Josephus Justus, GENERAL INDEX. 843 various references to, 49. 275. 377. 567. 733. 780 and note. Scallions, use of as sallads, 753. Scalpium what, 261, 262. Scaniilli impares Vitruviani, considered and ex- plained, 375, 376. Sceaux, Garde de, office of the in France, 69. Scenography and sciography, their signification in architecture, 371. Schoen, Martin, one of the earliest copper-plate engravers, 276. Schurmann, Anna Maria h, an engraver, 301. Sciabas, bought as a virgin slave, 570. her natural son, ibid, introduced to the sultana who persecutes her, 571. leaves Cairo for Mecca, 572. her death, 573. Scipio, his active retirement, 536. his early em- ployment for Rome, 548. Scotia of pedestals, what they were, 3*5. 377. Scots, base conduct of the in the civil wars reca- pitulated, 172. civil wars first engendered by the, 196 n. defence of the, 197- Scottish archers of France described, 63. Scriptural books, ancient writing and authors of, 265. Scriptures, examples for introducing the histo- ries of the to a child, 120. 122. when tlie terrors of the should be taught to children, 126. Scriptures, various allusions and references to, and illustrations from the, 6. 11. 19, 20. 34, 35. 105. 110. 113, 114. 117. 120. 122. 125, 130, 131. 133. 139, 140. 147. 171. 174. 183, 184, 185. 187, 188, 1S9, 190, 191. 197, 19S. 236. 243. 260, 261. 265, 266. 358. 419. 430. 499. 506 n. 511 n. 513n. 515 n. 517n. 520 n, ,521 n, 522 n, 523 n. 525 n. 528 n, 529 n, 530 n, 531 n, 532 n, 533 n. 535 n, 536 n. 545 n. .547 n. 549 n. 601, 602. 604. 631.634. 636, 637. 639. 641. 645. 650. 713. 724, 725. 729. 734. 776. 7S2 n, 783 n, 784 n, 785 n. 787 n. 794. Sculptores Marmoris, multitudes of, 270. Sculptors, names of eminent preserved by Plinv, 271, 272. Sculplura, 1662, notice of Evelyn's work so called, XV. xxi. re-print of, 242 — 336. vide table of contents and table of titles, 251 — 257. notice concerning the additions to, 257 n. a difference between it, scalptura, and creUitura, 258, 259. numerous arts signified by, ib. 261. Sculpture, its derivation and distinguishing names instruments, &c. 258 — 262. definition of, 261. account of its original, 263 — 269. on brazen and brick columns, 265. existence of after tlie flood, ib. mention of it by Moses, 266. older than idolatry, ib. more ancient than modelling, 269. time and place of its perfection, 270. used on gems, 271. its existence and decay in Greece and Rome, 273. of the Danes, ib. of the Chinese, 275. at Nonesuch and Durdans, 419. its close connection with architecture and painting, 559. Scurvy-grass, its nature and use, 753. Sea, importance of its command to a sovereign, 635. notice of the most ancient voyages on the, 639. disputes concerning the dominion of the, 668. ancient property of noticed, 669. claims of the English to its dominion exhi- bited, 670 — 679. 685. government of after the Norman Conquest, 671. Sea-kail, historical mention of, 738. Seal of France, the great, kept by the Chancellor, 69. days and manner of sealing with, ibid. Seals, ancient name and etymons of, 262, 263. Secretaries of the King's-chamber and cabinet in France, 61. Sects during the civil wars in England, 175. Seine, river of France, notice of the, 93. Selden, John, his Mare ctausum referred to, 668 n. his mention of the Kings of England being lords of the sea, 67I. Self-denial, how to be taught to youth, 132. Sembrador, a Spanish machine for ploughing, sowing, and harrowing, notice of, 621. Semedo, Alvarez, attributes an immense antiquity to the Chinese printing, 275. Seneca, I^ucius Anna;us, various references to and quotations from, 15. 17. 20, 21. 23. 25, 26, 27. o4. 331. 501. 512. 518. 520, .521. 537. 539. 541. 543, 544. 549, 550. 640. 645. 726. 746. 785. September, length of the days, &c. in, 475. work to be done in, in the orchard and kitchen- garden, ib. fruits in prime and lasting in, 476. work to be done in, in the parterre and flower- garden, 477. flowers in prime and lasting in, 47s. Seraglio, slaves of the, how they are made free, 572. Serenus, his mention of the sculpture of Cham, 265. Serini, Peter, an impostor pretending to be his brotlier, 568. N. mention of, 581. Serlio, Sebastiano, his book of architecture, 284. Servants, origin of, 10. 131. how to assist in the education of the children, 129, 130. ancient Greek names of, 140 Service berry, list of the best sorts of the, 496, Servillus Vatia, his luxuiious retirement, 543. Servitude, universal existence of, 13. regal, 14. to avarice, 15. to the passions, ib. 20. to the world, 16. Sesostris, King of Egypt, his invention of swiftly- saihng ships, 637. Seth, notice of books written by, 264. Brazen pillars sculptured by, 267. Sethius, Simon, his praise of asparagus, 754. Severus, Emperor of Rome, septizonium tower erected by, 712. .Sextius, his censure of eating flesh, 785. Shadows, how they are jjroduced by hatching, 314, 315. 320. plate and illustrations relating to, 321. harmony of required in engraving, 324. 844 GENERAL INDEX. Shallots, vide Onion, 749. Shanock, Dr. Robert, his classed list of tender and hardy plants, &c. 4S9. Shepherd, supposed invention of drawing by one, 314. Shields embossed and engraved, 260. 269. Ship, extraordinary one seen in Scotland, 57S. Ships, construction of the most ancient, 636. by whom improved, 637. 638. of the ancient Britons, 659. eminent ones built by James I. 666. Shrubs, flowering, classed list of tender and hardy, 489. Shute, John, notice of him and his work on architecture, 403 and note. Siderophoreia, explanation of, 262. Sight of children and youth to be guarded and how, 127. Signa, immense numbers of in Greece, 270. Signor, the Grand, his treatment of the false Mes- siah, 607, 608. Silphium, historical notices of the, 758, 7 •''9. Silver, ancient names for graving and casting in, 259. anciently often engraven on, 272. 277. Simple fornix arch, 386. Simus, vide Cymatium, 393. Sinai, mount, population and piety of, 531. Skeleton, gigantic one found at Wotton, 688. Skirret-milk, how it is made, SOS. Skirrets, medicinal and domestic qualities of, 754. Slaves not permitted to draw or paint, 326. Sleidane, John, his praise of Francis 1.540. Smelling of children to be kept from perfumes, 126. Smoke, vide Air. London, derivation of the word, 220. of London, pestilent effects of the, 157. 207.212.223. its chief sources, 231. Smoke-jack, notice of a singular one, 690. Smyrna, conduct of the pretended Messiah in, 593. his great success and declaration in, 594, 595. fictitious Israclitish Princes made in, 596. false miracle in, 597. ridicule of the Jews concerning their false Messiah, 608. order sent to concerning diito, 609. and of Nathan, 612. Snails found in Surrey, 690. Society, often a preservation from vice, 530. scriptural proofs of its excellence, 531. de- scriptive sketch of its blessings, 551. Socrates, his excellent life and refusal of court honours, 26. his censure of useless travel, 44. resists the thirty tyrants, 518. 538. discovers the proud philosopher, 521. Soil, vide Manure. Mould, causes of its foulness and excellence, 778, 779. Soldiers of France, commendation of, 85. their fury at the first charge, 89. Solinus, C. Julius, his expression for a traveller's return, 46. Soils, Virgiiius, his eyes put out for his lewd en- gi-avings, 294. Solitude, vide Employment. Retirement, title of Sir G. Mackenzie's work on, 502. praised by most ancient writers, 507. ambition to be found in, 511. how productive of evil, 516. not free from vice, 521. 525. 527. of no bene- fit to religion, 523. its frugality not praise- worthy, 525. no defence from templation, 530. the real use of, 536. its miseries, 551. descriptive sketch of ditto, ib. 552. summary of the evils of, 552. Somers, John Lord, Baron of Evesham, dedica- tion addressed to, 723. notice of him, ib. n. Somerset House, inlaid floor at, 423. Sophia, Saint, grand cupola upon the Church of, 416. Sorbiere, Samuel, his eulogium on Signor Favi, 246. his account of him, 247. Sorrow, reasons for mitigation of in the loss of children, 1()5, 106. Sorrel, various kinds and qualities of, 754. Southampton, Thomas Wriothesley, earl of, no- tice of his mansion, 342 n. Sowing, directions for, 482. Sow thistle, notice of, 754. Spagnolet, a gown, 713. Spain, its greatness dangerous to England, 88. useful to England to check France, ib. (Queen Elizabeth's policy concerning, ib. has no pre- tence to alienate the subjects of France, ib. odoriferous atmosphere of, 208. Spanheim, Ezekiel, Silphion Coins mentioned by, 758 n. Spaniards, historical notice ol their navigation, 654. their custom in eating sallad, 773. Spanish, privilege of fishing granted to the, by England, 677- Spanish Infantry, excellence of the, 85. Spanish Paper, what it is, 713. Sphragida, nature and signification of the word, 139. Spinach, method of dressing and qualities of, 755. pudding, directions for making, SOS. Spits turned by water, 690. Spring gardens, notice of some plantations in London so called, 240. Sprunking glass, 713. Staff'ord, Richard, poisonous plants mentioned by, 761 n. Stairs, observations on, 387. Stanley, Thomas, reference to his commentary on jEschylus, 640. Stapelton, Sir Philip, notice of, 178 n. Stapely, Col. Anthony, notice of, 179 n. State, officers and counsellors of in France, 67. 69. Secretaries of, their number and duties, 70. Statesmen, their desire of retirement, 516. why they retired in Sicily, 519. Statins, P. Papicius, verses from, 261. 332. Statuaries, parallel between them and the guar- dians of a child, 115. Stawel, Sir John, biographical notice of, 176 n. GENERAL INDEX. 845 Stelai, derivation of the word, 375. Stereobata in architecture, what it signifies, 374. Stobseus, example of slothful ease cited from, 545. Stocks, various directions concerning, 4S3. Stoics, their notions concerning vice, 15. con- cerning the liberty of wisdom, 17. Stone, ancient names of carving and carvers in, anciently used for writing, 267- Chinese en- graving and printing on, 275. dug in the pa- rish of Wotton, 6S8. Stone-street causeway, notice of, 689. Storms raised in the air by moor-burning, 235, 236. Stove, bad effects of the common one used in con- servatories, 420. new invented one, directions and plans for, 492, 493, 494. 497, 49S. letter from Sir D. Cullum to Evelyn concerning it, 497 — 498. for greenhouses, various remarks on, 719, 720, Strabo, attributes to Minos the most ancient na- vigation, 838. his account of the early Roman commerce, 647. early British navigation men- tioned by, 659 n. Sti'ada, Faminianus, his praise of the Dutch navi- gation, 652 n. Stradanus, John, his Nova Reperta, 296. Strafford, Thomas Wentworth Earl of, his execu- tion, 175 and note. Strait or turning arch, 386. Stratonicus, fine sculpture executed by, 272. Strawberry, historical notice concerning the, 480 note, list of the best sorts of the, 496. Strawberry hill, curious Picture there referred to, 101 n. 432 n. Striges, their derivation and meaning, 383. some- times partly tilled up, ib. Structura in Architecture, what it is, 374. Stylobata in architecture explained, 374. Stylus, various names for the, 261, 262. fre- quently instruments of death, 262. made of bone, ib. Suave, Lamberto, engravings by, 284. Substruction in architecture, various interpreta- tions of, 374. Succory, its use as a sallad, 755. Suetonius, C. Tranquillus, various references to, 645. 743 n. 746. Sugar, directions for using in sallads, 766, 767. Suidas, various references to, 262. 264. 266. 513. Suisses, Colonel G6xx6ra\ des, in France, his rank and troops, 75. Sulos, the name for a colunm, 378, Sulphur, when beneficial to the lungs, 223 n. Sultana, the Grand, her weakness at the birth of of Mohamed, 569. nurse provided for her, 570. banishes that slave and her son, 5^1. and becomes Jurabel Aga's enemy, ib. Sultane, what it is, 713. Sunderland, the Countess of, Evelyn's letter to concerning the Kalendarium Hortense, 427. Sun-flower, eaten as a sallad, 757- Supercilium in architecture, what it signifies, 392. Surgeons of France, character of the, 89. Surrey, various particulars relating to, 687 — 691. Suyderhoef, Jonas, his engraved portraits, 298. Swanevelt, Herman, engravings of, 295. Swedes, their navigation and fleets, 652. tribute paid to the, by the Dutch, 686. Swiss Guard of France described, 63. Svvitzers, Christopher, his engravings on wood^ 310. Sylva, or a discourse of Forest trees, 1662, notice of, xiii. occasion of writing it, xiv. late edi- tion of. XV. Sylvestre, Israel, extent and Character of his works, 306. Symonds or Simon, Thomas, a medal engraver, 310. Syracusaus, their naval exploits, 643. Systylos in architecture, what it signifies, 38S. Table-book,, curious allusion to a, 132. ancient Greek names of, 140. waxen ones and styles for, 262. Table of oak at Wotton Park, immense size of one, 687. Tables for inscriptions, rules and directions for, 421. Tacitus, C. Cornelius, his expression for hiercgly- phical monuments, 266. his testimony to the British naval dominion, 670. Vopiscus, Emperor, his fondness for let- luce, 743. his temperance in food, 797- Tailie-douce, French engraving so called, 262. when invented and used, 303. Talismans, constellated figures engraved, 269. Talon, the French name of the astragal, 378. Tansy, qualities and manner of dresaing of, 755. pudding, directions for making, 808. Tarragon, excellent qualities of, 755. Tart of herbs, directions for making, 809. Tatian, his time of flourishing, 268. passage from proving the antiquity of recording by Sculpture, ib. Taverns in London, intemperance and success of the, 157. organs taken from the churches set up in, 158. in Hyde Park, account of, 165, 166. Tavernier, Bernier Jean Baptiste, his mention of cucumbers in the Levant, 740. Ta.\es of France how collected, 65. sources of, ib. 66. Taxis in architecture explained, 368. Taylor, Jeremy, Bishop of Down and Connor, his mention of Evelyn's Lucretius, x. Telamones, figures supporting an architrave, 391 Temples, ancient ornaments and figures of, 420. Tempest, Peter, reference to his plates of the cries of London, 484 n. 846 GENERAL INDEX. Tempesta, Antonio, account of his principal etch- ings, ^S7. Temiioiiil Peers of Fiance, their names and num- ber, 59. duties of at a coronation, ib. Tenia, its signification in architecture, 393. Tertullian, J. Septimius Florens, his defence of the books of Seth and Enoch, 204. Tessellated pavements and floors, varieties of, 423. Testudo arch 386. Tetiastylos, their signification in architecture, 388. Tewrdannkks, notice of the Romance so called, 302 and note. Thames river preferable to the Seine, 93. nu- merous smoky works on its banks, 207. 210. 212.220. 223. infected with coal smoke, 230. works of London to be carried down the, 232. waters of sometimes brackish near Greenwich, 233. offensive trades sliould be removed from its banks, 237. Thasii, decks to vessels invented by the, C37. Theatres, ornaments and figures anciently used for, 421. Themistocles, his triumph over the fleet of Xerxes, 642. Theocritus, Greek phrase quoted from, 263. Theophrastus, his definition of the plants called Olera, 733. Thermse, ornaments and figures anciently used for, 421. Thistle, milky, manner of dressing as asallad, 755. Thistles, directions for dressing, 809. Thomasinus, Philip, number and excellence of his engravings, 302. Thomson, Dr. Thomas, his history of the Royal Society, 55G n. Thucydides, allusion to his early admiration of Herodotus, 108. his account of the Greek naval engagements, 642. Thulden, Theodore Vander, engravings by him, 298. Tibullus, AulusAlbius, his mention of the earliest navigators, 639. Tilius, John, his confession of the naval weakness of the French, 660 and note. Timaeus, his expressive name for air, 215 Timber of England, decay of, 102. Tiphvs, the rudder invented by, 63". Titian Vecelli, his engravings and designs, 284. Todesco, his singular surname, 275. Toilet of the ancient ladies of England described, 706, 707, 70s, 709. dictionary of the terms of the, 710— 713. Tomica;, what explained, 258. Tondino, the Italian name of the Astragal, 378. Tone in shadow, what it is, 324. Tongue, advice for the government of in a child, 115, 116, 117. Tooke, Benjamin, the publisher of Evelyn's works, 97 n. Toreumata, embossed metal cups, 260. Toreutice, explanation of, 258. Tortoise destroyed at Says Court in the winter of 1683, 696. Torus, nature and derivation of the, 377. Touch of youths and children to be guarded, 12S. Toulouse, Chambre Miparties established in, 72. Tornelle, Court of La, its objects and officers, I7. Trajan Port at Ostia, its excellence, 646. Trajan's Column, its carved pedestals, 375. en- graved plates of, 557. Trallanus, Alexander, his account of talismans, 269. Transplanting, directions for, 482, 486. Travel, remarks on foreign, viii. use and end of, 43, 46. instances of useful, ib. 44. censure of careless, 44. various advices for, 45. in- conveniences of, 48. scheme of European, 50. Traytor's Perspective Glass, 1662^ references to the, 177 n. 179 n. Treasurer of the Navy, first mention of, 642. Treasurers de I'Espargne of France, character of, 64. ditto of their oflice, 65. of the Parties Casuelles, their duties, 65. Treccia, of Milan, the first engraver on diamond, 290. Trento, Antonio di, his engravings in chiaro- scuro, 282. Tribonius, his flattery of Justinian, 33. Tribunals, what are meant by in architecture, 419. Trick-Madame, its qualities and use, 755, 756. Triglyphs, derivation, origin, and'nature of, 395. Trochile, derivation and nature of the, 377. Tropheis, signification of the word, 140. Truffles, directions for dressing, S09. Truncus, in architecture, its signification, 374, 375. Tuberose, Indian, directions for planting, &c. 457, 477. Tuilleries, Palace of the, its gardens and company preferable to those of Hyde Park, 1 66. Tulips, method of taking up, 463, 466. directions for planting, 481, 484. formerly eaten in sal- lads, 757. Turkish dominions, extreme barbarity and idola- try of the, 184, 1S5. Turks, supposed cause of the war between them and the Venetians, 565. 576. real cause of ditto, 575. their imprisonment of the false Messiah, 598, 599, 600. reason of their tolera- tion of the .lews who followed him, 602,603. made acquainted with his imposture, 607. their conquests from Christendom and piracy, 653. Turner, Mr. notice of, and his works, 433 n. Turnips, various sorts, use and qualities of, 756. directions for dressing, 809. Tuscan Order, base of the, how it it is formed, 376. impost in the, 385. intercolumniation of the, 388, 406. architrave in the, 392, 406. frieze in the, 394. regula and ovohi in the, 396. historical description and examples of GENERAL INDEX. 847 the, 405. parts and measurements of the, 40G. ballusters of the, 422. Tuscans, sculpture received and perfected by the, 270. Tusser, Thomas, notice of his book of husbandry, 434. Tympanum, its description and situation, 414. other parts so called, 4 15. how ornamented, 4 IG. Tyrannus, or the Mode, 1661, notice of the tract, xiii. V. Vandyke, Sir Anthony, portraits engraved after, 297. his own etchings, ib. Vanier, Jacques, his verses on the smoke of Eng- land, 234 n. Vankessell, Theodore, portraits engraved by, 299, Varenins, Bernard, his mention of the encourage- ment of artists in Japan, 317- Varro, Marcus Terentius, references to concern- ing engiaving, 259, 260. his mention of an- cient materials for writing on, 267. his men- tion of Mentor, the sculptor's works, 272. his mention of drawing, 326. Vasari, Giorgio, his account of the invention of engraving, 277- his heads of the painters, 285. Vassallacci, Antonio, studied drawing from prints, 319. Vatablius, Franciscus, his translation of a passage in Kings, 260. Vaults or arches, various kinds of, 386. Vauxhall, anciently infested by smoke, 223. Vayer, Francois de la Mothe le, character of his writings, viii. his dialogue on retirement, xi\. notice of him and his works, 3 n. his dedica- tion to Cardinal Mazaiine, 4. Vegetable diet, its excellence considered, 775, 776—799. Vegetables, proper to be planted near London, 241. their use as an aliment considered 777, 773. cause of their corruption in the neigh- bourhood of cities, 77S. grounds fittest for the growth of, 779. nutritious qualities of, impaired, 7SS,7S9. variety of the diet, and its subsequent excess, 794. names of noble fami- lies derived from, 795 and note. Vegetius, squadrons of Augustus mentioned by, 645. Velde, John Van de, his engraved landscapes, 295. Venice, supposed cause of the war between it and Turkey, .565. 576. real origin of ditto, 575. Venetians, Barbary gallics destioyed by the, 576. their success in navigation, 631. rise and pro- gress of their extensive conimerce, €48. 652. tJieir claim to the Adriatic, 673. Veneur, Grand, of France, 62. Verden, his perspective views, 299. Vermin, paste for destroying, 446. directions for removing in gardens, 44S. 455. 46C. 468. 470. Veronese, Paolo, copied the prints of A. Durer, 319. singular error in one of his pictures, 560. Vertue, George, his notice of Mabugius' picture of Adam and Eve, 560 n. Vesputius, Americus, his claim to the discovery of America, 655. Vestigii Descriptio, what it is, 3*1. Vestigium Operis, what it is, 371. Vessels, structure of the earliest, 636. by whom improved, 637. Vice, an enemy to liberty, 15. intrudes itself into soHtude, 521. .525. .527. Vico, jEneas, his medals and engravings, 2S3. Victories unwelcome to the French, 92. Views near London, &c. recommended to be en- graven, 311. Vignola, Giacomo Barozzio de, his book of archi- tecture, 284. Villalpando, John Baptist, his notice of a capital in the Temple of Solomon, 381. 395. Villamena, Francisco, excellent engravings by, 286. his engravings of Trajan's column, 557. Villeloin, Mons. de MaroUes, Abbe de, his Theatre of the Muses, 299. extract from his Memoirs, 327. his wonderful collection of prints, 328. Vincentino, Baptista, engravings by, 283. Valeria, his works as a medallist, 289. Vine, parts of the, used in sallad, 756. Vinegar, directions for making, 81 1. Vines, various directions concerning, 447. 463. 467, 468. 471. 487. list of the best kinds of, 496. Vineyards in England, decay of, 102. common in the time of Evelyn, 468 n. ■ ' in France, damaged by smoke from England, 234. Viper-Grass, medicinal qualities of and manner of dressing it, 756. Virgilius Maro, Publius, various extracts from and references to, 1.219.222.231.240. 259. 425. 431 and note. 435. 515 n. 772. Virgin-luve, a preservative to chastity, 134, 135. Virtues and vices, various sujiposed seats of, 129. Vischer, Cninelius, engravings by, 299. Visits in England, tedious formality of, I67. Vitellius Aulus, Emperor of Rome, luxury of his table, 439. Vitrtivius Pollio, M. his rule concerning air and water by buildings, 218. ancient artists cele- brated by, 318. editions of mentioned, 353. Lexicons to, 354. qualities required by him in an architect, 356, 357. 391. his wish concern- ing the estimates of architects, 358. encou- ragement shewn to him, 360. his definition of architecture, 364. his connection between mi- litary and civil architecture, 365. propriety of columns practised by, 372. recommends that architects should understand drawing, ib. his name for imposts, 385. his ideas of the dis- positions of columns, 390. his distinction of a nionopt8rc,391. his derivation of architectural proportion, 403. 848 GENERAL INDEX. Ulpian, Domitius, his mention of the commercial privileges of the J^atins, 633 n. Ulysses, King of Ithaca, character of his travels, 47. notice of his embossed shield, 26(). Understanding, ^nature of the liberty of the, 11. supposed seat of, 129. Voice, eflect of the air of London on the, 226. Voluta, its derivation, meanings and varieties, 3S1. farther notices of, 383. 408. Vopiscus, Flavins, his mention of ancient mate- rials for writing on, 297. Vorst, Van, excellent engravings by, 297- Vossius, Gerard, his account of the title of Admi- rals, 662 n. , Isaac, his censure of Peter Calaber, 267. Vosterman, Lucas, his effective way of engraving Vandyke's Heads, 297. Vouiilemont, Sebastian, Etching by, 299. Voyages by sea, notice of tlie most ancient, 639. Uries, or Frisias, John Fredeman de, his perspec- tive views, 299. W. Waldegrave, the Earl of, curious painting in his possession, 432 n. Waller, Sir William, biographical notice of, 177 n. . , Mr. his extraordinary abilities, 714 n. Walnuts, catalogues of the best kinds of, 496. directions for pickling, 806, S07. War, Council of in France, place of meeting, 76. Warden Pears formerly sold baked in London streets, 484 n. Warwick, Robert Rich. Earl of, his death, 177 n. Wase, Christopher, his Latin Epitaph on Richard Evelyn, jun. 1 12 n. Water, eulogium on the excellence and beauty of, 630. Watering, of gardens and various directions for, 451. of trees, directions for, 464. 474. 485. Water-pipes directions for preserving, 488. Walers in Wotton, various notices of the, 689, 690. Water-spouts of London, inconvenience of the, 210. Water-works of London, unwholesome smoke arising from their engines, 212. Watson, Dr. Richard, his testimony of the shelter afforded to the sequestrated Englisli clergy by Sir Richard Browne, 506 n. Western winds of London, 232. Westminster, much molested by smoke, 223. Hen- ry VII. chapel at censured, 366. Whistler, Dr. instance cited by, of the unwhole- some nature of London air, 224. White, Thomas, reference to his Extasis, 499. Whitehall, Court of invaded by smoke, 207. 223. Whitelock, Bulstrode, reference to his Memorials concerning the Earl of Strafford, 175 n. do. on Col. Ilainsborough, 179 u. Widows in France, casual offices hereditary to, 65. Wilderness, no preservation to Israel from sin 532. Will, liberty of the considered, 11. continual re- nunciation of it in a Court, 31. • Windbws, various general directions for, 41'7. Winegard, his engraved vestiges of Rome, 299. Winter of 1683-84, effects of its severity, 692 — 696. Wire, mills for drawing of brass, first building of, 689. Wisby, ancient port and commercial laws of, 649. Wisdom, produced by society and conversation, 537. Wisdom of Solomon, origin of idolatry mentioned in the, 266. Wise, Henry, a gardener at Brompton Park, re- commended, 497- notice of him and his gar- dens, 714, 715 and notes, 716, 717. Wisemen, of the ancient philosophers difficult to discover, 22. some similar to them in modern times, 22, 23. Wolson, Chevalier, his invention of heraldic colour lines, 323. Women, in France, sudden and early decay of, 90. how to speak of to youth, 128. danger of their acquaintance with do. 133. drawing of importance to, 326. prone to bad passions^ 520. Plautus' satire on, 703. descriptive poem on the dress of, 703 — 709. Wood, means for the better supply of London with, 231. ancient names for carving and carvers in, 258. used anciently for writing on, 2C7. 273. 275. nature of engraving on, 287. inlaving of for floors, 423. growing in the parish of Wotton in Surrey, 687, 688. 690. damaged at Says Court, &c. in 16S3, 692. recovery of after a thaw, 693. Wood Sorrel, notice of, 756. Wool, excellence of the English, 662. Workmen of England, conceited and idle dispo- sitions of, 360, 361. World, enslaving nature of the, 16. excellence of all its features, 629. Wormius,_OIaus, his notice of Danish hierogly- phics, 273. Worms, vide Vermin. Wormwood, used for.sallad, 758. Wotton, Sir Henry, his observations on statues, 270. his censure of Albert Durer, 277. his remark on the English language, 353. his idea of the model in architecture, 368. 373. his remark on pilasters, 383. Wotton, Surrey, Evelyn's Eulogy on, xxii. library at, volumes there relating to the Jesuits, 500 n. wood surrounding the estate of, 687. various notices of the parish of, 688—690. Wreathed columns, historical notice of, 412. Wren, Sir Christopher, his house on the Bankside, 223 n. his skill in engraving, 327. dedication addressed to, 351. his works compared with gothic architectui'e, 366. eulogy on, 562. GENERAL INDEX. 849 Wren, Matthew, the editor of Harrington's Oceana, 145 n. Writing,- vide Letters, Sculpture, with ink, a mo- dern invention, 267- ancient material used for, ib. earliest known to the Greeks, '268. of the Danes and Norwegians. 273. Xenophon, hh high estimation of the sea, ()'36'. Xenophanes, his saying concerning great men, 3L Xei-xes, King of Persia, his defeat at sea, ()i2. Xoilos, kind of engraving signified by, 260. conduct of to^vards their domestics, 129, 130, 131, 132. importance of their chastity and means of preserving it, 132 — 13.5. their regu- lar fasting recommended, 133. do. of watch- ing, and early prayer, 1,34. '^o be early mar- ried, ib. how to inspire them with a love of virginity and virtue, 135. and with prudence in temporal and spiritual affairs, 136. excel- lence of thus educated, .and of their posteiity, ib. how to be advanced to I lie duties of life, ib. piincipal dangers of, 137- to beeducated by means of engravings, 32!). should enter into public employment, 54S. Youth, of France, character and disposition of the, 90. nature of their education, ib. com- parison between the French and English, 91. not to be app.roaciied by any females, 126. J28. their smelling to be kept from perfumes, ib. and the sight of to be guarded, 127- danger of the theatre to, ib. encouragements for vir- tuous, 12S. touch of to be watched, ib. the Zanches de Huelva, Alplmnso, his supposed dis- covery of America, 6.">5. Zeuxis, used only one colour in painting, 323. Zoccolo in architecture, what il signifies, 3*4. Zopirus, his beautiful engravings on a cii)), 272. Zopyrus, allusion to his zeal for his sovereign, 29. Zowaster, vide chain. Zuylichen, Mons. his inventions and discoveries, 296. 5 a X,- 0£L^q ^ THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. Series 9482 1 •^Hti UC SOUTHERN OEGinM.' D 000 216 991