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ATHENIAN ORACLE 
 
 ABRIDGED; 
 
 CONTAINING THE MOST VALUABLE 
 199 
 
 THE ORIGINAL WORK j 
 
 ON 
 
 HISTORY, PHILOSOPHY, DIVINITY, 
 
 LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 ILonUon: 
 
 PRINTED BY AND FOR JOHN NICHOLS AND SON, 
 
 25, PARLIAMENT-STREET, WESTMINSTEH. 
 
 1820. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT, 
 
 THE present Abridgment contains the 
 quintessence of " The Athenian Oracle;" and 
 comprises a rich treasure of useful knowledge, 
 for the Theologian, the Historian, the Phi- 
 losopher, and the Lover. In short, all classes 
 may find In the present Work something 
 conducive to their pleasure and improvement, 
 in their hours of seriousness, as well as those 
 of gaiety. 
 
 The Athenian Oracle'' was a Selection of 
 what was valuable in The Athenian Mer- 
 cury," one of the many Projects of the cele- 
 brated John Dunton; who, in his Life 
 and Errors," thus informs his Readers of the 
 true Question Project^ and of the several 
 Persons that engaged in it : 
 
 " I had received a very flaming injury, which 
 was so loaded with aggravations, that I could 
 scarce get over it ; my thoughts were constantly 
 working upon it, and made me strangely uneasy : 
 sometimes I thought to make application to some 
 Divine, but how to conceal myself and the un- 
 grateful wretch, was the difficulty. Whilst this 
 
I 
 
 iv ADVERTISETMENT. 
 
 perplexity remained upon me, I was one day 
 walking over St. George's-fields, and Mr. Larkin 
 and Mr. Harris * were along with me ; and on a 
 sudden I made a stop, and said, ' Well, Sirs,' 
 I have a thought Til not exchange for fifty gui- 
 neas They smiled, and were very urgent with me 
 to discover it ; but they could not get it from me. 
 
 The first rude hint of it was no more than 
 a confused idea of concealing the Querist, and 
 answering his Question. However, so soon as I 
 came home, I managed it to some better purpose, 
 brought it into form, and hammered out a title 
 for it, which happened to be extremely lucky, 
 and those who are well acquainted with the Gre- 
 cian History may discover some peculiar beauties 
 in it. — However, the honest Reader that knows 
 nothing of criticism may see the reason why this 
 Project was intituled ^ The Athenian Gazette,' if 
 he only turns to Actsxvii. 31. — When I had thus 
 formed the design, I found that some assistance 
 was absolutely necessary to carry it on, in regard 
 the Project took in the whole compass of Learn- 
 ing, and the nature of it required dispatch. 
 
 " I had then some acquaintance with the inge- 
 nious Mr. Sault ; who turned Malebranche into 
 English for me, and was admirably well skilled in 
 the mathematicks ; and over a glass of wine I un- 
 bosomed myself to him, and he very freely offered 
 
 * Two eminent booksellers. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 V 
 
 to become concerned. So soon as the design was 
 well advertised, Mr. Sault and myself, without 
 any more assistance, settled to it with great dili- 
 gence : and Numbers 1. 2. were entirely of Mr. 
 Sault's composure and mine. 
 
 " The Project being surprizing and unthought 
 of, we were immediately overloaded with Letters ; 
 and sometimes I have found several hundreds for 
 me at Mr. Smith's coffee-house in Stocks-market, 
 where we usually met to consult matters. 
 
 " The ^ Athenian Gazette' made now such a 
 noise in the world, and was so universally re- 
 ceived, that we were obliged to look out after 
 more Members ; and Mr. Sault, I remember, 
 one evening came to me in great transport, and 
 told me he had been in company with a gentle- 
 man, who was the greatest prodigy of Learning he 
 had ever met with ; upon inquiry, we found it 
 w^as the ingenious Dr. Norris, who very gene- 
 rously offered his assistance gratis, but refused 
 to become a stated Member of Athens. He was 
 wonderfully useful in supplying hints ; for, being 
 universally read, and his memory very strong, 
 there was nothing could be asked, but he could 
 very easily say something to the purpose upon it. 
 
 " In a little time after, to oblige Authority^ 
 we altered the title of ' Athenian Gazette into 
 ' Athenian Mercury' The undertaking growing 
 every week upon our hands, the impatience of 
 our Querists, and the curiosity of their Questions, 
 
VI 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 wh\ch required a great deal of accuracy and care^^ 
 obliged us to adopt a third member of Athens ; 
 and the Reverend Samuel Wesley being just 
 come to town, all new from the University, and 
 my acquaintance with him being very intimate, I 
 easily prevailed upon him to embark himself 
 upon the same bottom, and in the same cause. 
 With this new addition we found ourselves to be 
 masters of the whole design, and thereupon we 
 neither lessened nor increased our number. 
 
 " The ' Athenian Mercury' began at length to 
 be so well approved, that Mr. Gildon thought it 
 worth his while to write ^ A History of the Athe- 
 nian Society;* to which were prefixed several 
 Poems, written by the chief Wits of the age (viz. 
 Mr. Motteux, Mr. De Foe, Mr. Richardson, &.c. 
 and in particular, Mr. Tate, now Poet Laureat), 
 was pleased to honour us with a poem directed to 
 the Athenian Society. 
 
 Mr. Swift*', a country gentleman, sent an 
 Ode to the Athenian Society ; which, being an 
 ingenious poem, was prefixed to the Fifth Sup- 
 plement of the ^ Athenian Mercury.' 
 
 Our Athenian Project not only obtained among 
 the populace, but was well received among the 
 politer part of mankind. 
 
 "That great and learned Nobleman, the late 
 
 * Afterwards the celebrated Dean. 
 
 t This Ode has since been incorporated in Swift's Wei'ks 
 and it accompanies this Advertisement. See p. ix. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 vii 
 
 Marquis of Halifax, was once plear^ed to tell 
 me, ' that he constantly perused oiiv Mercuries, 
 and had received very great satisfaction from very 
 many of our Answers/ 
 
 " The late Sir William Temple, a man of a 
 clear judgment, and wonderful penetration, was 
 pleased to honour me with frequent Letters and 
 Questions, very curious and uncommon ; in par- 
 ticular, that about the Taltsmam^ was his. 
 
 " The Honourable Sir Thomas Pope Blount, 
 when he resided in town, has very frequently 
 sent for me to his chamber, and given me par- 
 ticular thanks for my Athenian Project ; and, 
 the last visit I made him, he told me " the Athe- 
 nian Society was certainly the most useful and 
 informing design that had ever been set on foot 
 in England." 
 
 " Sir William Hedges was pleased to tell me, 
 " he was so well pleased with the ^ Athenian 
 Mercuries,' that he would send several complete 
 sets into the Indies, to his friends; and that he 
 thought the publick, and himself in particular, so 
 much obliged to me, that I should always be 
 welcome to his house; and that he would serve me 
 to the utmost with reference to my trade." 
 
 " 1 could mention many more honours that 
 were done me, by Sir Peter Pett-^ and many 
 
 * Re-printed in the present Volume, p. 39*. 
 
 t A virtuoso and a great scholar, and Fellow of the Royal 
 Society. He was well accomplished for conversation^ because 
 of his natural fluency and the fineness of his wit." 
 
via 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 others, whose learning and judgment the world 
 has little reason to question. 
 
 " Our * Athenian Mercuries' were continued 
 till they swelled, at least, to twenty volumes 
 folio ; and then we took up, to give ourselves a 
 little ease, and refreshment; for the labours and 
 the travels of the mind are as expensive, and 
 wear the spirits off as fast, as those of the body. 
 However, our Society was never formally dis- 
 solved. 
 
 " The old Athenian volumes, a while ago, 
 growing quite out of print, a choice collection of 
 the most valuable Questions and Answers, in three 
 volumes, have lately been re-printed, and made 
 public [a fourth was subsequently added], under 
 the title of " The Athenian Oracle." 
 
 Thus far we have given the history of the 
 Work before the Reader in the words of 
 honest John Dunton, the original Pro- 
 jector; and it only remains to add, that, In 
 the Selection now offered to the Publick, 
 there Is nothing that is In the least calcu- 
 lated to give oflFence to the most chaste and 
 delicate mind. 
 
 July 10, 1820. 
 
ODE 
 
 TO 
 
 THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY. 
 
 AS when the deluge first began to fall. 
 
 That mighty ebb never to flow again 
 (When this great body's moisture was so great, 
 
 It quite o'ercame the vital heat). 
 That mountain which was highest first of all, 
 Appear'd above the universal main. 
 To bless the primitive Sailor's weary sight ! 
 And 'twas perhaps Parnassus, if in height 
 
 It be as great as 'tis in fame. 
 
 And nigh to Heaven as is its name : 
 So, after th' inundation of war. 
 When learning's little household did embark 
 With her world's fruitful system in her sacred ark. 
 
 At the first ebb of noise and fears. 
 Philosophy's exalted head appears ; 
 And the Dove-Muse will now no longer stay. 
 But plumes her silver wings, and flies away ; 
 
 And now a laurel-wreath she brings from far. 
 
 To crown the happy conqueror. 
 
 To shew the flood begins to cease, 
 And brings the dear reward of victory and peace. 
 
 II. 
 
 The eager Muse took wing upon the waves decline, 
 When War her cloudy aspect just withdrew. 
 When the bright sun of peace began to shine, 
 
 And for awhile in heav'nly contemplation sat 
 On the high top of peaceful Ararat j 
 
 And pluck'd a laurel-branch (for laurel was the first that grew. 
 
 The first of plants after the thunder, storm, and lain),^ 
 And thence, with joyful, nimble wing. 
 Flew dutifully back again, 
 
 And made an humble chaplet* for the kir.g. 
 
 * The Ode I writ to the King: in Ireland. 
 
X 
 
 ODE TO THE 
 
 And the Dove-Muse is fled once more 
 (Glad of the victory, yet frighted at the war). 
 And now discovers from afar 
 A peaceful and a flourishing shore : 
 No sooner did she land 
 On the dehi^hiful strand, 
 Than straight she sees the country all around, 
 WTiere fatal Neptune rui'd erewhile, 
 Scatter d with flow'ry vales, with fruitful gardens crown'd, 
 And many a pleasant wood ! 
 As if the universal Nile 
 Had rather water'd it than drown'd : 
 It seems some floating piece of paradise, 
 
 Preserv'd by wonder from the flood. 
 Long vvand'ring through the deep, as we are told 
 Fam'd Delos d d of old, 
 And the transported Muse imagin'd it 
 To be a fitter birth-})lace for the God of wit. 
 Or the much-talk'd oracular grove j 
 When with amazing joy she hears 
 An unknown musick all around 
 Charming her greedy ears 
 With many a heavenly song 
 Of nature and of art, of deep philosophy and love. 
 Whilst angels tune the voice and God inspires the tongue. 
 
 In vain she catches at the empty sound, 
 In vain pursues the musick with her longing eye, 
 And courts the wanton echoes as they fly. 
 
 III. 
 
 Pardon, ye great unknown, and far-exalted men. 
 The wild excursions of a youthful pen ; 
 
 Forgive a young and (almost) virgin muse. 
 
 Whom blind and eager curiosity 
 (Yet curiosity, they say. 
 Is in her sex a crime needs no excuse) 
 
 Has fore d to grope her uncouth way 
 After a mighty light that leads her vvand'ring eye. 
 No wonder then she quits the narrow path of sense 
 
 For a dear ramble through impertinence 3 
 
 Impertinence, the scurvy of mankind. 
 And all we fools, who are the greater part of it. 
 
 Though we be of two different factions still. 
 Both the good natur'd and the ill. 
 
 Yet wheresoe'er you look, you'll always find 
 We join like flies, and wasps, in buzzing about wit. 
 
ATHENIAN SOCIETY. 
 
 xi 
 
 In me, who am of the first sect of these. 
 All merit, that transcends the humble rules 
 Of my own dazzled scanty sense. 
 
 Begets a kinder folly and impertinence 
 Of admiration and of praise. 
 
 And our good brethren of the surly sect 
 
 Must e'en all herd us with their kindred fools : 
 
 For though, possess'd of present vogue, they've made 
 
 Railing a rule of wit, and obloquy a trade ; 
 
 Yet the same want of brains produces each effect. 
 And you whom Pluto's helm does wisely shroud 
 
 From us the blind and thoughtless crowd. 
 Like the fam'd Hero in his mother's cloud. 
 
 Who both our follies and impertinencies see. 
 
 Do laugh perhaps at theirs, and pity mine and me* 
 
 IV. 
 
 But censure's to be understood 
 Th' authentic mark of the elect. 
 The public stamp Heav'n sets on all that's great and good 
 Our shallow search and judgment to direct. 
 The war methinks has made 
 Our wit and learning narrow as our trade : 
 Instead of sailing boldly far to buy 
 A stock of wisdom and philosophy. 
 
 We fondly stay at home, in fear 
 Of ev'ry censuring privateer; 
 Forcing a wretched trade by beating down the sale^ 
 And selling basely by retail. 
 The Wits, J mean the atheists of the age. 
 Who fain would rule the pulpit as they do the stage 5 
 Wond'rous refiners of philosophy. 
 Of morals and divinity. 
 By the new modish system of reducing all to sense, 
 Against all logick and concluding laws. 
 Do own th'efFects of Providence, 
 And yet deny the cause. 
 
 V. 
 
 This hopeful sect, now it begins to see 
 How little, very little do prevail 
 
 Their first and chiefest force 
 To censure, to cry down, and rail. 
 Not knowing what, or where, or whom you !)e. 
 
Xll 
 
 ODE TO THE 
 
 Will quickly take another course : 
 
 And, by their never-failing ways 
 Of solving all appearances they please, 
 We soon shall see them to their ancient methods fall> 
 And straight deny you to be men, or any thing at all. 
 
 I laugh at the grave answer they will make. 
 Which they have always ready, general and cheap: 
 'Tis but to say, that what we daily meet. 
 And by a fond mistake 
 Perhaps imagine to be wond'rous wit. 
 And think, alas ! to be by mortals writ. 
 Is but a croud of atoms justling in a heap. 
 
 Which from eternal seeds begun, 
 Justling some thousand years till ripen'd by the sun j 
 They're now, just now, as naturally born. 
 As from the womb of earth a field of corn. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But as for poor contented me. 
 Who must my weakness and my ignorance confess. 
 That I believe in much I ne'er can hope to see 
 Methinks I'm satisfy'd to guess. 
 That this new, noble, and dehghtful scene, 
 Is wonderfully mov'd by some exalted men. 
 
 Who have well studied in the world's disease 
 (That epidemic error and depravity. 
 
 Or in our judgment or our eye). 
 That what surprizes us can only please. 
 We often search contentedly the whole world round 
 To make some great discovery. 
 And scorn it when 'tis foimd. 
 Just so the mighty Nile has suffer'd in its fame. 
 
 Because 'tis eaid (and perhaps only said) 
 We've found a little inconsiderable head, 
 
 That feeds the huge unequal stream. 
 Consider hun)an folly, and you'll quickly own. 
 
 That all the praises it can give, 
 By which some fondly boast they shall for ever live. 
 Won't pay th'impertinence of being known : 
 Else why should the fam'd Lydian King, 
 Whom all the charms of an usurped wife and state. 
 With all that power unfelt, courts mankind to be great. 
 
 Did with new unexperienc'd glories wait. 
 Still wear^ still doat on his invi-jihle ring ^ 
 
ATHENIAN SOCIETY. 
 
 xiii 
 
 VII. 
 
 Were I to form a regular thought of fame. 
 Which is perhaps as hard t'imagine right 
 As to paint Echo to the sight j 
 1 would not draw th' idea from an empty name j 
 ^ Because, alas ! when we all die. 
 Careless and ignorant posterity, 
 Although they praise the learning and the wit. 
 
 And though the title seems to show 
 The name and man by whom the book was writ. 
 Yet how shall they be brought to know" 
 Whether that very name was he, or you, or I ? 
 Less should I daub it o'er with transitory praise. 
 
 And water-colours of these days: 
 These days, where e'en th' exti avagance of poetry 
 Is at a loss for figures to express 
 Men's follies, whimsies, and inconstancy. 
 And by a faint description makes them less. 
 Then tell us what is fame, where shall we search for it ? 
 Look where exalted Virtue and Religion sit 
 Enthron'd with heav'nly wit. 
 Look where you see 
 The greatest scorn of learned vanity 
 (And then how much a nothing is mankind ! 
 Whose reason is weigh'd down by popular air. 
 Who by that, vainly talk of baffling death 5 
 And hopes to lengthen life by a transfusion of breath, 
 
 Which yet whoe'er examines right will find 
 To be an art as vain as bottling up of wind) : 
 And when you find out these, believe true fame is there, 
 Far above all reward, yet to which all is due 5 
 And this, ye great unknown, is only known in you. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The juggling sea-god, when by chance trepanned 
 By some instructed querist sleeping on the sand. 
 Impatient of all answers, strait became 
 A stealing brook, and strove to creep away 
 
 Into his native sea, 
 Vext at their follies, murmur'd in his stream ; 
 But, disappointed of his fond desire. 
 Would vanish in a pyramid of fire. 
 
xiv 
 
 ODE TO THE 
 
 This surly slipp'ry God, when he design'd 
 To furnish his escapes. 
 
 Ne'er borrow'd more variety of shapes 
 
 Than you to please and satisfy mankind, 
 And seem (ahuost) transform'd to water, flame, and air^ 
 
 So well you answer all })haenomena's there : 
 Though madmen and the wits, philosophers and fools. 
 With all that factious or enthusiastic dotards dream. 
 And all the incoherent jargon of the schools ; 
 
 Though all the fumes of fear, hope, love, and shame. 
 Contrive to shock your minds with many a senseless doubt ; 
 Doubts where the Delphic God would grope in ignorance and 
 night. 
 
 The God of learning and of light 
 Would want a God* himself to help him out. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Philosophy, as it before us lies. 
 Seems to have borrow'd some ungrateful tastt 
 Of doubts, impertinencies, and niceties. 
 From every age through which it pass'd. 
 But always with a stronger relish of the last. 
 This beauteous queen, by Heav'en designed 
 To be the great original 
 For man to dress and polish his uncourtly mind. 
 In what mock habits have they put her since the Fall ! 
 More oft in fools and madmens' hands than sages. 
 She seems a medley of all ages. 
 With a huge fardingale to swell her fustian stuff, 
 A new commode, a top-knot, and a ruff, 
 Her face patch'd o'er with modern pedantry. 
 With a long sweeping train 
 Of comments and disputes, ridiculous and vain. 
 All of old cut with a new dye : 
 How soon have you restored her charms 
 And rid her of her lumber and her books, 
 Drest her again genteel and neat. 
 And rather tight than great ! 
 How fond we are to court her to our arms ! 
 How much of Heav'n is in her naked looks I 
 
ATHENIAN SOCIETY. 
 
 XV 
 
 X. 
 
 Thus the deluding Muse oft blinds me to her ways. 
 And ev'n my very thoughts transfers 
 And changes all to beauty, and the praise 
 Of that proud tvrant sex of hers. 
 The rebel Muse, alas! takes part 
 But with my own rebellious heart. 
 And you with fatal and immortal wit conspire 
 To fan th" unhappy fire. 
 Cruel unknown / what is it you intend ? 
 Ah ! could you, could you ho})e a poet for your friend ! 
 
 Rather forgive what my first transport said : 
 May all the blood, which shall by woman's scorn be shed. 
 
 Lie upon you and on your children's head ! 
 For you (aii ! did I think I e'er should live to see 
 The fatal time when that could be !) 
 Have e'en increas'd their pride and cruelty. 
 Woman seems now above all vanity grown, 
 Still boasting of a great unknown 
 Platonic champions, gain'd without one female wile. 
 Or the \ast charges of a smile ; 
 Which 'tis a shame how much of late 
 You've taught the cov'tous wretches to o'er-rate. 
 And which they've now the consciences to weigh 
 In the same balance with our tears. 
 And with such scanty wages pay 
 The bondage and the slavery of years. 
 Let the vain sex dream on, their empire comes from us. 
 And had they common generosity 
 They would not use us thus : 
 
 Well though youv'e rais'd her to this high degree. 
 
 Ourselves ai e rais'd as well as she ; 
 And spite of all that they or you can do, 
 * Tis pride and happiness enough to me 
 Still to be of the §ame exalted sex with you. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Alas ! how fleeting and how vain. 
 If even the nobler man, our learning and our wit ! 
 I sigh when'er 1 think of it : 
 As at the closing of an unhappy scene 
 
XVI 
 
 ODE TO THE 
 
 Of some great king and conqu'ror's death. 
 When the sad melancholy Muse 
 Stays but to catch his utmost breath. 
 I grieve this nobler work most happily begun. 
 So quickly and so wonderfully carry'd on. 
 May fall at last to interest, folly, and abuse. 
 There is a noon-tide in our lives. 
 Which still the sooner it arrives. 
 Although we boast our winter-sun looks bright. 
 And foolishly are glad to see it at its height. 
 Yet so much sooner comes the long and gloomy night. 
 
 No conquest ever yet begun. 
 And by one mighty hero carried to its height. 
 E'er flourish 'd under a successor or a son 3 
 It lost some mighty pieces through all hands it past. 
 And vanish'd to an empty title in the last. 
 For when the animating mind is fled, 
 (Which nature never can retain, 
 Nor e'er call back again) 
 The body, though gigantic, lies all cold and dead. 
 
 XII. 
 
 And thus undoubtedly 'twill fare 
 With what unhappy men shall dare 
 To be successors to these great unknown. 
 On Learning's high-established throne. 
 Censure, and pedantry, and pride, 
 Numberless nations, stretching far and wide. 
 Shall (I foresee it) soon with Gothic swarms come forth 
 
 From Ignorance's universal North, 
 And with blind rage break all this peaceful government : 
 Yet shall these traces of 5'our wit remain. 
 Like a just map, to tell the vast extent 
 Of conquest in your short and happy reign j 
 And to all future mankind shew 
 How strange a paradox is true, 
 That men who liv'd and dy'd without a name. 
 Are the chief heroes in the sacred list of fame. 
 
THE 
 
 9lt|)eman ((Oracle. 
 
 PART L 
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 
 
 IN 
 
 HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Question, — What are the Clouds ? and where 
 are they when the air is clear ? 
 
 Answer. — The clouds are of two sorts ; one an 
 exhalation of water, the other of a more terrestrial 
 matter; but where such are, when the air is clear, 
 seems more difficult, though not an impossibility, 
 to resolve. Suppose, then, a room, through which 
 there are some chinks for the rays of the sun to 
 enter — if you look upon those rays, you may plainly 
 discern the innumerable atoms which dance in 
 
 B 
 
2 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 the air; — but if you go out to look for them in 
 the air, where the whole body of the sun has its 
 effect, there is not an atom to be seen, though 
 there are atoms there also. From this instance it 
 appears, that the truest representation of light is 
 when a darker body is near; for no man can judge 
 of light without darkness, nor of motion without 
 something fixed ; now the clouds being rarified 
 through an excessive heat, or drawn up a great 
 distance from the earth, are invisible to us, and 
 appear like air, through the abundance of light, 
 without commixture of darkness, which propor- 
 tionably contracts our optic nerves ; this is evi- 
 dent ; for, after the clearest and hottest day, when 
 the element begins to be a little darkened 
 through the approaching night, the clouds be- 
 come visible, and we see that which too much 
 light prevented before. 
 
 Quest, — What is Melancholy, its symptoms, 
 causes, and cure ? 
 
 Am, — A raving without fever or fury, with 
 fear and sadness ; it is seated in the brain and 
 heart : the disaffection of one makes persons 
 rave, of the other renders them sad or fearful ; 
 the fancy is always busy, for the most part intent 
 upon one thing, and the ideas appear improper, 
 distorted, and horrid ; the juices of the body con- 
 tracting an acid and corrosive disposition, and 
 thereby throwing all things out of order. The 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 3 
 
 vital spirits grow dull and languid, and the blood 
 little less than stagnates about the heart. The 
 effects thereof we may see in Bedlam every day ; 
 they are as various as the freaks of the unguided 
 fancy, which are almost infinite, or as the parti- 
 cular causes thereof, jealousy, superstition, love, 
 despair, and sometimes even a violent fit of pas- 
 sion or anger, which is in one degree beyond me- 
 lancholy, even a short madness. All the cure 
 that belongs to us to prescribe is diversion, which 
 reaches both cases. If the brain be affected with 
 deep thinking on one particular object, turn the 
 stream, if possible, to something else: — flatter, 
 humour, or do what you can for the same end. 
 For sadness, or a deep sullen temper, fear is the 
 best cure, which rouses the mind, and, if not car- 
 ried too high, sets the lazy spirits to work to 
 throw off the impending evil, and thereby assists 
 Fature in what else she has to do. 
 
 Quest. — A lady desires to know whether Fleas 
 have stings, or whether they only suck or bite, 
 when they draw blood from the body ? 
 
 Ans, — Not to trouble you. Madam, with the He- 
 brew or Arabic name of a flea, or to transcribe 
 Bocharfs learned dissertations on the little animal, 
 we shall, for your satisfaction, give such a descrip- 
 tion thereof as we have yet been able to discover. 
 
 Its skin is of a lovely deep red colour, most 
 neatly polished, and armed with scales, which can 
 
 II 2 
 
4 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 resist any thing but fate and your ladyships un- 
 merciful fingers ; the neck of it is exactly Hke the 
 tail of a lobster, and, by the assistance of those 
 strong scales it is covered with, springs backwards 
 and forwards much in the same manner, and with 
 equal violence ; it has two eyes on each side of 
 its head, so pretty, that I would prefer them to 
 any. Madam, but yours ; and which it makes use 
 of to avoid its fate, and fly its enemies, with as 
 much nimbleness and success as your sex manage 
 those fatal weapons, lovely basilisks as you are, 
 for the ruin of your adorers. Nature has pro- 
 vided it six substantial legs, of great strength, 
 and incomparable agility jointed like a cane, co- 
 vered with large hairs, and armed each of them 
 with two claws, which appear of a horny sub- 
 stance, more sharp than lancets, or the finest 
 needle you have in all your needle-book. It was 
 a long while before we could discover its mouth, 
 which, we confess, we have not yet so exactly 
 done as we could wish, the little bashful creature 
 always holding up its two fore feet before it, 
 which it uses instead of a fan, or mask, when it has 
 no mind to be known ; and we were forced to be 
 guilty of an act both uncivil and cruel, without 
 which we could never have resolved your ques- 
 tion. We were obliged to unmask this modest 
 one, and cut off its two fore legs to get to the face; 
 which being performed, though it makes our ten- 
 der hearts as well as yours almost bleed to think 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 5 
 
 of it, we immediately discovered what your Lady- 
 sliip desired, and found Nature had given it a 
 strong proboscis, or trunk, as a gnat or muschetto, 
 though much thicker and stouter, with which we 
 may very well suppose it penetrates your fair 
 hand, feasts itself on the nectar of your blood, 
 and then, Hke a Httle faithless fugitive of a lover, 
 skips away, almost invisibly, nobody knows whi- 
 ther. 
 
 Quest. — What are the utmost effects of Joy, 
 and how does it operate on the affections ? 
 
 Ans. — Sudden Joy kills, as well as sudden 
 Grief. Diagoras Rhodius, hearing his three sons 
 were victorious at the Olympic games in one day, 
 died immediately in that transport of joy ; and so 
 did Dionysius, Sophocles, and Phillipides, upon 
 winning the bays from other stage-players : and, 
 what is more astonishing, Zeuxis, that famous 
 painter, having made the portraiture of an old 
 woman very oddly, died with laughing at it. 
 Grief destroys a man by a violent agitation of the 
 spirits, and sudden condensation again, whereby 
 they are too much pressed, their avenues ob- 
 structed, and their intercourse with the air hin- 
 dered ; so that the heart, wanting respiration, is 
 stifled. Joy produces the same effect from con- 
 trary causes, namely, by a too great dilatation of 
 the spirits : they who die for joy are of a sanguine, 
 ?oft, and rare contexture; so that when this dila- 
 
6 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 tatioQ of spirits happens, they leave the heart 
 destitute of succour ; and the ventricles closing 
 together, they perish under the passion. 
 
 Quest, — What Nation invented Painting ? 
 
 ^ns. — Some have been of opinion that the off- 
 spring of Abraham that went into Egypt w^ere the 
 first, and that they taught it to the Egyptians : 
 but it is more universally believed ; that the 
 Egyptians were the first painters, statuaries, and 
 philosophers, and that Greece brought painting 
 to perfection ; but what part of Greece is yet 
 doubted. Some would assign it to Sicyones, 
 others to Corinth, where, by drawing lines round 
 the extremities of a man, was rudely made the 
 first step to picture. The Greeks began with one 
 colour, and by degrees brought it to the perfec- 
 tion which we find in the days of Apelles. From 
 Greece it went to Rome, where it was almost lost 
 again by the inundations of the Huns, Vandals, 
 Goths, and Lombards ; but was restored after- 
 wards by Titian, Raphael, Urbin, Angelo, &c. 
 
 Although it be the opinion of a late author 
 that the Egyptians were the first painters ; yet 
 we find the most ancient writers deny it : though 
 in assigning the place they disagree amongst 
 themselves. Pliny would persuade us that one 
 Gyges, a Lydian, was the very first author. Theo- 
 phrastus would have one Polignotus, an Athe- 
 nian, to be the institutor thereof. But Pliny says. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ^ 
 
 that Polignotus was a Thalian, and was the first 
 that painted women in single apparel, and trim- 
 med their heads with cauls and sundry colours. 
 And it is very probable that Pliny was right, 
 since painting with divers colours was not prac- 
 tised for a considerable time after the first inven- 
 tion ; Cleophantus of Corinth being the first au- 
 thor of divers colours, as Telephanes was the first 
 that drew with one colour only : so that after all 
 a full answer to the question cannot be given, 
 since the ancients themselves disagree about it in 
 their assertions. 
 
 Quest, — How is the fire made betwixt the flint 
 and the steel ? 
 
 Ans. — Mr. Hook, in his microscopic experi- 
 ments, has put the question out of all doubt. 
 Taking a steel and flint, and examining by a 
 microscope the scintillations that fell upon a 
 piece of white paper, he first thought them to be 
 small globulous pieces of melted steel, or little 
 particles of red hot flint; but, upon further search, 
 he really found that those little red particles that 
 fell were vitrifications of the flint and steel. 
 
 Question. — Tell me, ye learned heads, if such there be. 
 Nature's profound and secret mystery : 
 
 1. How this vast Orb on unseen axles turns ? 
 
 2. And unconsumed the Sun for ever burns ? 
 
 3. What unknown power gives its heat such force. 
 Orders its motion, and directs its course ? 
 
8 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 4. How angry tempests drive the seas to shore. 
 
 Beat the vast swelling waves, and make them roar ? 
 
 5. When waves, like mighty islands, rise and swell, 
 How fish beneath those moving mountains dwell ? 
 
 6. Why servile springs do constant tribute pay 
 Unto their arbitrary monarch, sea ? 
 
 7. How in the hidden space of Fate's dark womb 
 Things are at present laid that are to come ? 
 
 8. Next the mysterious births of flowers disclose, 
 From the field-daisy to the garden-rose ? 
 
 9. Why such a painted coat the tulip wears ? 
 And why in red the blushing rose appears ? 
 
 10. Why clad in white, the innocent lily's seen ? 
 
 1 1. And how the scent comes from the jessamine ? 
 
 12. Why humble strawber ries creep along the ground ? 
 :|3. And why the apple struts, and looks so round ? 
 
 14. Why ivy clings to the oak's hardened waste ? 
 
 15. And why the elm by the loving vine's embraced ? 
 
 16. Why Nature did for fishes scales prepare ? 
 
 17. And clothes some beasts in wool, and some in hair ^ 
 
 18. Why golden feathers do the fowls adorn ? 
 
 19. And why they chirp and sing beneath the morn ? 
 
 20. And why all these are destined to maintain 
 The sovereign lord of all the creatures, Man ? 
 
 Answer. — Dear friend unknown, we thus reply to thee. 
 And thy profound mysterious mystery : 
 
 1. As moved at first by its great Maker's troll. 
 It perseveres i* th' same eternal roll. 
 
 2. Vast unexhausted vulcans it compose. 
 
 Or fume turns fire, and as it burns it grows. 
 
 3. That Power which decked with light the world's first 
 
 morn. 
 
 Before the stars, or Sun itself, was born ; 
 
 4. Or streams that rushed from subterranean caves, 
 Or air compressed, thus vex the struggling waves. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 9 
 
 5. As worms i' th' earth when by fierce whirlwinds rent. 
 For nothing's press'd in its own element. 
 
 6. Less will to more, as small to a greater fire j 
 
 The lower wave slides on, still pressed by the higher. 
 
 7. What's yet to come is not, 'tis nothing then. 
 And nothing can have neither how nor when. 
 
 8. Your pardon. Sir : through half should we but run. 
 The nurses midwifery should ne'er be done. 
 
 9. From mingled lights, so gay the tulip shows. 
 Or salts commix'd ; from uniform, the rose. 
 
 10. This drinks not in, but outwards beats the beams 3 
 
 11. That spends its sweets in odoriferous streams. 
 
 12. Their legs are short and weak, their stature low ; 
 And those must creep that cannot stand or go. 
 
 13. With a long waist, long shanks, and lofty crest j 
 What wonder if it overlooks the rest ? ^ 
 
 14. Why do the faint and weak supporters chuse } 
 
 15. And tell me why do cripples crutches use ? 
 
 16. Them mother Nature did with scales supply. 
 As coats of mail, to guard the watery fry. 
 
 17. Degrees of heat bring curls, or else abate. 
 As in our hair, and Negro's woolly pate. 
 
 18. From different texture different colours fall ; 
 
 19. Birds love the morn, because they're poets all. 
 
 20. Who else deserves their homage and esteem ? 
 
 If he's their lord, whom should they serve but him ? 
 
 Quest. — Why are Osiers smooth one year, and 
 rough another, successively ? 
 
 j4ns, — It is a mistake; they are only smooth the 
 first year, and every succeeding year grow rougher, 
 by reason that the spring affords new juice for a 
 new formation. 
 
10 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — Whence have we our Opium ? Whe- 
 ther is it hot or cold? If hot, why narcotic or 
 stupefying; if cold, why sudorific or procuring 
 sweat? Let it be what it will, how comes|it to have 
 that deference for those animal spirits which are 
 requii«ed for the motion of the heart and for respi- 
 ration, as very often to spare them, while it seizes 
 the others that communicate with the organs of 
 the external senses ? 
 
 Ans. — Opium is the tear that distils from pop- 
 pies, which at certain times in the year have inci- 
 sions made in them for that end. We have it 
 from Greece, Cabaia in the East Indies, and 
 Grand Cairo in Egypt. No one has ever asked, 
 whether opium be hot or cold ; for some ages the 
 opinion of the antients about its being cold having 
 been for a long time exploded, since upon expe- 
 riment it is found to be inflammable, bitter, and 
 sulphureous ; and of all narcotics it has the finest 
 sulphur; that of hembane and hemlock being 
 more impure, gross, and injurious. Opium is pri- 
 marily hypnotic, whereas other anodyne sulphurs 
 are so but by accident, as that of metals, minerals, 
 and that which lodges in native cinnabar. The 
 reason why treacle and mithridate provoke sweat 
 is from the opium that is in them. Narcotics 
 have in them a volatile salt, as opium and saffron, 
 from whence arises the proper reason of their re- 
 solution in the stomach when given in emulsions, 
 spirit of wine, or brandy. The salt is left behind, 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 11 
 
 whilst the sulphureous effluvia are conveyed to, 
 and circulate with the blood. It particularly 
 affects the nervous parts, and acts both by 
 demulcing, digesting, nfiollifying, &c. ; as also 
 by stupefying or fixing the animal spirits, by 
 stopping their small passages to the brain, as 
 also their influx into the nerves, whereby the 
 archeus of Nature becomes lax, inactive, and 
 drowsy. The reason why it affects not those 
 spirits which serve for respiration, pulsation, 
 and the motion of the heart, while the others 
 are stagnated, is because the dose usually pre- 
 scribed is but barely sufficient to affect the first 
 small passages it meets with, and so stupefies the 
 senses ; whereas a large dose would reach to the 
 cerebellum, where the par octavura has it rise, 
 the dependant channel of which being obstructed, 
 there ensues a universal narcosis, or stupefaction, 
 and by consequence death. 
 
 Quest. — What is the original cause of the 
 Gout ? 
 
 Ans, — ^The Gout is the product of excess and 
 irregularities, especially in drinking some French 
 wines, and other sorts of liquors that are saline 
 and acid ; which appears by their settling, or tar- 
 tar, in casks. This salsitude and sharpness causes 
 a pungency and pains in making its way to the 
 pores where Nature would eject it, and it has 
 often been known to break out in the finger ends, 
 
12 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 in a dry chalky or limy substance. It is some- 
 times hereditary, and something like it is caused 
 by excessive heats and colds. A lady, who for 
 thirty years scarcely used her hands by reason of 
 the gout, being reduced by misfortune to a mean 
 condition and an abstemious diet, was quite de- 
 serted by the companion of her excesses. 
 
 Quest, — How is the Dew produced ? 
 
 ylns. — It differs from rain and snow in this, 
 namely, the matter of the rain and the snow are 
 the attractions of many days into the middle re- 
 gion of air, which is much more ample and vast 
 than the inferior, in which the dew is ingendered 
 from a few vapours attracted in the space of one 
 night, which, for want of heat, cannot ascend very 
 high, but falls again upon the nap of herbs and 
 leaves of trees like unto little pearls ; and this is 
 that which is called dew : this occurs in the most 
 temperate seasons of the year ; for when it is very 
 hot there can be no dew, because the matter be- 
 ing heated, it easily ascends on high, or else it is 
 easily dissipated by the heat. And if the weather 
 be cold this dew is congealed, and condensed, and 
 from thence is made that which we call the hoary 
 frost. 
 
 Quest, — ^Wherefore is it that, having two eyes, 
 we see nevertheless but one kind, or image, of the 
 objects ? 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 13 
 
 Ans, — Even so for having two ears no more 
 than one and the same sound is heard, the origin 
 of their motion being the same, for these two or- 
 gans make but one sense ; but yet provident Na- 
 ture has been pleased that one and the same sense 
 should have two instruments, to the end that, if 
 one should be taken from us, the other might sup- 
 ply the defect thereof. 
 
 Qwe^^.— What is Death ? 
 
 Ans, — Not to be, and to cease to be, is much 
 the same; it sometimes happens, that the more 
 common a thing is, the more difficult it is to ex- 
 plain it, as in many sensible objects. Nothing is 
 more easy than to discriminate life and death, 
 and yet to explain the nature of both is a severe 
 task, because the union or disunion of a most 
 perfect form with its matter is inexplicable. How- 
 ever, we shall offer those things that have given 
 us the greatest satisfaction in our inquiries. — 
 Death, or a cessation of doing and suffering, is 
 generally agreed to be the greatest evil in Nature, 
 because it is a destruction of Nature itself ; but why 
 it should be represented so terrible, is as great a 
 paradox as a certain knowledge of what death 
 really is. This is the common plea of mortals ; 
 here we know% and are known, and all the enter- 
 prizes we take in hand, — we have the satisfaction 
 of reflection, and a review when they are past; 
 but dying deprives us of knowing what we are 
 
14 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 doing, or what other state we are commencing. 
 It is a leap in the dark, not knowing where we 
 shall light. But this is a weakness, which, as it 
 makes men anticipate their misery, so it enlarges 
 it too. We look upon Nature with our eyes, not 
 with our reason, or we should find a certain 
 sweetness in mortality, for that can be no loss 
 which can never be missed or desired again. As 
 Caligula passed by, an old man requested him 
 that he might be put to death. Why, says the 
 Emperor, are you not already dead ? There is 
 something in death, sometimes at least, that is 
 desirable by wise men, who know it is one of the 
 duties of life to die, and that life would be a sla- 
 very if the power of death were taken away. We 
 had the curiosity to visit two certain persons ; one 
 had been hanged, and the other drowned, and 
 both of them very miraculously brought to life 
 again ; — we asked what thoughts they had, and 
 what pains they were sensible of? The person 
 that was hanged said, he expected some sort of a 
 strange change, but knew not what ; but the pangs 
 of death were not so intolerable as some sharp 
 diseases; nay, he could not be positive whether 
 he felt any other pain than what his fears created. 
 He added, that he grew senseless by little and lit- 
 tle, and at the first his eyes represented a brisk 
 shining red sort of fire, which grew paler and 
 paler, till at length it turned into a black, after 
 which he thought no more, but insensibly acted 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHV. 
 
 15 
 
 the part of one that falls asleep, not knowing how 
 or when. The other gave almost the same ac- 
 count ; and both w©re dead, apparently, for a con- 
 siderable time. These instances are very satisfac- 
 tory in cases of violent death, and for a natural 
 death I cannot but think it yet much easier. 
 Diseases make conquest of life by little and little, 
 therefore the strife must be less where the inequa- 
 lity of power is greater. 
 
 Quest. — What is Individuation; or wherein 
 consists the Individuality of a thing ? 
 
 Ans, — Individuation is the unity of a thing 
 with itself, or that whereby a thing is what it is. 
 
 To begin with those species of body which are 
 not properly organized, which have neither life 
 nor sense, as stones, metals, &c. In these, indi- 
 viduation seems to consist in nothing but greater 
 or less ; take the less part of a stone away, you 
 may still call it the same stone; take an equal 
 part with the remains, that individuation ceases, 
 and they are two new individuals. Divide a 
 stone, &c. as often as you please, every part of it 
 will be a stone still, another individual stone, as 
 much as any in the mountain or quarry it was 
 first cut out of, even though reduced to the mi- 
 nutest sand, or, if possible, a thousand times less. 
 But when we take one step farther, and proceed 
 a degree higher to the vegetable kingdom, the 
 case is far otherwise, and indeed Nature seems to 
 
l6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 be still more distinct, and, as it were, careful in its 
 individuation the higher it rises, till at last it 
 brings us to that great transcendental individual, 
 the only proper uncompounded essence, the One 
 God, blessed for ever. — ^To return to plants: their 
 individuation consists in that singular form, con- 
 texture, and order of their parts, whereby they 
 are disposed for those uses to which Nature has 
 designed them, and by which they receive and 
 maintain their beings. For example : in a tree, 
 from which though you take the branches, it 
 crows, receives nourishment from the earth, main- 
 tains itself, and is still a tree, which the parts 
 thereof are not when separated from the rest; 
 for we cannot say every part of a tree is a tree, as 
 we can every part of a stone is still a stone ; but 
 if this tree be cloven in two or more pieces, or 
 felled by the roots, this contexture and orderly re- 
 spect of the parts one to another ceases ; its essence 
 as a tree is destroyed, its individuation perishes, 
 and it is no more a tree, but a stump, or timber. 
 Let us proceed a degree higher, to merely sensible 
 creatures, who are not so immediately depending 
 on the earth, the common mother, as the plants, 
 nor rooted to it as they are, but walk about, 
 and have, in respect of that, an independent exist- 
 ence, and are a sort of world by themselves. And 
 here the individuation consists in such a particu- 
 lar contexture of their essential parts, and their 
 relation one towards another, as enables them to 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I7 
 
 exert the operations of the sensible or animal life. 
 Thus, cut off the legs, or any other parts of an 
 animal, it is the same animal still; but cut off its 
 head, or take away its life, and it is no longer 
 that individual animal, but a mere carcase, and 
 will, by degrees, resolve itself into common mat- 
 ter again, or, rather, be transmigrated into some 
 other form. To ascend now to the highest rank 
 of visible beings — the rational. The Individuation 
 of man appears to consist in the union of a ra 
 tional soul with any convenient portion of fitly 
 organized matter. Any portion of matter duly 
 qualified, and united to the soul by such an 
 union as we experience, is immediately indivi- 
 duated by it, and, together with that soul, makes 
 a man ; so that, if it were possible for one soul to 
 be clothed over and over at different times with all 
 the matter in the universe, it would in all those 
 distinct shapes be the same individual man. Nor 
 can a man be supposed in this case to differ more 
 from himself, than he does when he is an infant, 
 or just passed an embryo, from himself when of 
 adult or decrepid age ; he having, during that 
 time, changed his portion of matter over and 
 over; as, being fat and lean, sick and well, lost 
 by bleeding, excrement, perspiration, &c. ; gained 
 again by aliment; and perhaps not one particle, 
 or but very few of the first matter which he took 
 from his parents and brought v^^ith him into the 
 world, now remaining. And thus much by way 
 
 c 
 
1? THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 of essay towards the resolution of this noble 
 question. 
 
 Quest, — Whether there is any crisis of time 
 wherein persons have extraordinary accidents as 
 to fortune or misfortune ? 
 
 Ans, — The Sacred Writ censures the observers 
 of days, times, and seasons, the noted supersti- 
 tion which at that time was very common, and at 
 this day is not quite effaced. That upon certain 
 revolutions of time some things extraordinary 
 have happened, and to such persons as were not 
 at all superstitious in that point, is very certain. 
 We read, Heylin. Geog. p. 734, that on a Wed- 
 nesday Pope Sextus the First was born, on the 
 same day made a monk, created general of his or- 
 der, made cardinal, chosen pope, and finally on 
 the same day inaugurated. Also, it is observed, 
 in Stow's Annals, p. 812, Thursday was observed 
 to be a day fatal to King Henry VIII. and to all 
 his posterity, for he himself died on Thursday the 
 28th of January, King Edward the Sixth on 
 Thursday the 6th of July, Queen Mary on Thurs- 
 day the 17th of November, and Queen Elizabeth 
 on Thursday the 24th of March. But these ob- 
 servations are warrantable, being made after the 
 time was expired, and reputed rather as accidental 
 than necessary, as by chance a man may throw 
 ambs-ace three or four times together without 
 being compelled by fate or destiny ; for, if a man 
 throws, he must throw something, and there is 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1^ 
 
 as much reason that he should throw ambs-ace 
 four times together as any other four numbers 
 that shall be named successively. He that acts 
 without reason, and believes things for which he 
 can give no account at all, deserves to be excluded 
 from the society of rational creatures. 
 
 Quest. — Whether the common notion of the 
 world be true, that these latter ages, for some 
 centuries past, have a less share of learning, judg- 
 ment, and invention, than those which have pre- 
 ceded, because we find them deficient in finding 
 out such advantageous arts as their forefathers 
 have done r 
 
 Jns, — It is disputable v/hether the invention 
 of useful arts is infinite or not ; but, upon a sup- 
 position of truth in both cases, we see no reason 
 to conclude this age comes short of the preceding, 
 as to priority in arts and sciences. We will consi- 
 der the first part of the dilemma, and suppose 
 the invention of useful arts infinite ; if so, we 
 must conclude, as we find by daily experience, 
 that at length arising to be too numerous, some 
 would be lost and supplanted by others, which 
 would not be if the first were more useful. 
 Again, if the invention of useful arts be finite, 
 they can be but once invented ; so that those who 
 have already effected it cannot pretend a pre- 
 eminence to those that follow, who also would 
 have found the same out if they had lived before, 
 
 c 2 
 
 / 
 
^0 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 as is seen by the great improvements daily made 
 in what is invented. Further, it is a vulgar error 
 that any valuable art is of one man's inventing ; 
 as, for instance, in sailing, how many ages passed 
 before the invention of sails, or a commodious 
 building of ships, or before the compass was in- 
 vented, and how long before the invention of the 
 compass was the nature of the loadstone disco- 
 vered ? If we take a view of the liberal sciences, 
 can we believe that Aristotle's philosophy was all 
 his own, or rather a compendium of what 
 other philosophers had written before, and by 
 him methodically compiled, with some additions? 
 As to curious mechanics, as some are improved, 
 and as the subject is copious, so some are invented, 
 ^lian and Pliny mentioned one Myrmecides, 
 who wrought out of ivoty a chariot, with four 
 wheels, and as many horses, in so little room that 
 a little fly might cover them all with her wings ; 
 as also a ship, with all the tackling to it, no big- 
 ger than that a small bee might cover it with her 
 wings. Though these were great curiosities, and 
 probably of one man's invention, we need not 
 seek beyond the limits of our Island for its par- 
 allel. In the twentieth year of Queen Elizabeth, 
 one Mark Scaliot made a lock, consisting of eleven 
 pieces of iron, steel, and brass, all which, toge- 
 ther with a pipe-key to it, weighed but one grain 
 of gold ; he made also a chain, consisting of forty- 
 three links, whereunto having fastened the lock 
 and key before mentioned, he put the chain 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 about a fiea*s neck^ which drew them all with 
 ease. See the inventions and experiments of the 
 Royal Society, which will abundantly convince 
 any one that our age has as active and busy spirits 
 for invention as any former age in the world. 
 
 Quest. — Why men dream of things they never 
 thought of? 
 
 Ans. — We deny they ever do ; nay, it is im- 
 possible they ever should, unless in divine dreams, 
 and that of such a nature that both the thing and 
 the notion thereof should be revealed together; 
 for the fancy, we own, has power to join things 
 together when they are before in the mind, or to 
 conceive monsters and impossibilities out of real 
 things, sleeping as well as waking. For example, 
 I have the notion of myself, a horse, a road, 
 thieves, water, fire, a house, night, or what else 
 you might name, treasured up in my memory : 
 these my fancy in a dream may chance to shuffle 
 together, and make me think I am on horseback, 
 and upon the road, that I there meet with thieves, 
 that I take the water to avoid them, and lodge in 
 a house which in the night-time happens to be on 
 fire. These things we have all thought of before, 
 taken distinctly or asunder, but never just in that 
 very order. So in fictitious beings, beings of rea- 
 son as some metaphysicians, or more properly 
 of fancy as others, when we make impossible 
 conjunctions of things. I have seen a man, I 
 have seen a dog; out of these two real things 
 
24 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 fancy forms one fictitious being, either sleeping or 
 waking, and makes a monstrous creature, partly- 
 canine, and partly human, which a painter can 
 describe on paper, though it first must have a 
 being in his own fancy. All this, we own, the 
 fancy has power to perform, but never to start 
 any notion absolutely new, and independent on the 
 frame of things before treasured in the memory. 
 
 Quest, — What becomes of Smoke ? 
 
 ^7is, — It ascends into the air, and, if in great 
 quantity, forms a sort of a cloud, as we may see 
 if we will but take the pains to go half a mile out 
 of London ; if in smaller, it is dissipated by the 
 winds, or lost in the vast tracts of air, as a little 
 water when spilt on great heaps of dust; for that it 
 is annihilated none can be so foolish as to conceive. 
 
 Quest. — ^Of what antiquity are Epitaphs and 
 Elegies ? 
 
 ^ns. — Many instances of Epitaphs in prose and 
 in verse may be collected from the old Greek 
 poets and Historians, who yet were but children 
 compared to the Chaldeans and Egyptians. But 
 the most ancient precedent of epitaphs must be 
 that recorded in the most antient history, namely, 
 the Old Testament, 1 Sam. vi. l8 ; where it is re- 
 corded, that the great stone erected as a memorial 
 unto Abel, by his father Adam, remained unto 
 that day in being, and its name was called " the 
 stone of Abel;" and its elegy was, " Here was shed 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 23 
 
 the blood of righteous Abel;" as it is also called 
 4000 years after, Matt, xxiii. 35. And this is the 
 origin of monumental memorials and elegies. 
 
 Quest. — How does a nettle sting ? whether by 
 leaving part in the flesh, as a bee its sting, or by 
 what means ? 
 
 Jlns. — That soft down which covers the leaves 
 is in all probability the substance which, being 
 darted in the small pores of the flesh, and by 
 reason of its peculiar configuration sticking fast 
 therein, gives such torment to the part afflicted, 
 much after the same manner as cow-itch, though 
 more pungent and violent. Now this configura- 
 tion, suppose humated oraculeated, when the net- 
 tle is violently and suddenly pressed, seems to be 
 lost and destroyed, the little stings being broke 
 oflT, or blunted one against another, which is the 
 reason a nettle never stings when we press it hard 
 between our fingers. 
 
 Quest. — Whether Riches and Honour are really 
 of that intrinsic value as the eager and general 
 thirst after them would argue ? 
 
 J)7S. — It has been affirmed that opinion is the 
 rate of things ; but a truer maxim is, that reason 
 is the true rate of things, and truth is always itself 
 without change. When, if I take my measure 
 in any thing according to my opinion to-day, I 
 may change them again to-morrow, and both 
 times miss the truth, and 80 make a third choice. 
 
24 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 which fully shews the etymology of an opinionist, 
 viz. one that looks only on the surface, or ap- 
 pearance of things, which is a very mean charac- 
 ter for a rational being. Riches or poverty are as 
 they are used, and not as they are esteemed, un- 
 less by Vv^ise men. A man cannot be unhappy 
 under the most depressed circumstances, if he . 
 uses his reason, not his opinion : for those ends 
 it was sent him ; and the most exalted fortunes 
 are, if reason be not consulted, the subject of a 
 wise man's pity. Bajazet the first, after he had 
 lost the city of Sebastia, and therein Orthobulus 
 his eldest son, as he marched with his great army 
 against Tamerlane, heard a country shepherd 
 merrily diverting himself with his homely pipe, 
 as he sat upon the side of a mountain, feeding his 
 poor flock. The king stood still a great while 
 listening to him, to the great admiration of his 
 nobility about him ; at last, fetching a deep sigh, 
 he broke forth into these words, O happy shep- 
 herd, who hadst neither Orthobulus nor Sebas- 
 tia to lose !" 
 
 Quest. — Whether Birds have any government? 
 
 Ans. — The bee, and they are the Muses' 
 birds, certainly have, and that a very regular 
 one. But, lest any should be so unkind to 
 degrade those pretty creatures into flies or in- 
 sects, we will instance in some of a little larger 
 wing. All birds, and beasts, and fishes too, have 
 thus much of government, that the weaker obeys, 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 25 
 
 and the stronger rules ; but still, whether there is 
 any other settled subordination of power amongst 
 them, we suppose, is the question. It is observed 
 in all the season-birds, or those which go and 
 come at stated times of the year, that they fly in 
 troops, and use a constant order in their flight, re- 
 garding the wind, and throwing themselves into 
 such a body as is most convenient, either to move 
 against or with it as their occasions serve. They 
 have, besides, their scouts and advanced guards 
 before, to scour the country, or discover an enemy. 
 Read Bergarak's Superccelestial Navigations; and 
 you will have the most exact account of their or- 
 der, laws, government, and manner of living, that 
 you can anywhere meet with. 
 
 Quest, — Whether Society or Solitude be most 
 preferable, in order to the noblest ends of man ? 
 
 Ans, Some of the best thoughts on both sides 
 may be met with in Mr. Cowley's Essay for Soli- 
 tude, and Mr. Evelyn's against it. Honest old 
 Aristotle has summed up almost all that can be 
 said in a few words. " A solitary life," says he, 
 " is either brutal or divine, above or below a 
 man." Whence his other assertion is clear, that 
 man must be a poetical, or, if you will, a social 
 animal. We must confess, could we believe a 
 man answered the end of his creation by an as- 
 cetic hermetical life, we do not doubt but it 
 would give the highest pleasure he is capable of 
 in the world, by contemplation and meditation. 
 
26 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 But we are not yet so hapjoy^ nor ougiit we to be 
 sOj — that being a cowardly sort of content^ which 
 is got by running away from whatever displeases. 
 Should all good men thus take a whim of leaving 
 the world, what would become of it ? And would 
 it not be just such a piece of justice and kindness, 
 as for all the physicians in a nation to go and live 
 in a wilderness, lest their patients should infect 
 them ? We do not in the least doubt but that it 
 is much more difficult to live honestly in the midst 
 of so many thousand temptations, which are un- 
 avoidable in this world, than to do so when retired 
 from all things of that nature. But, though diffi- 
 cult, it is possible, and the more difficulty the 
 more honour. Not but that we think the greatest 
 trial a truly good man will have of his virtue, 
 while he remains on the scene of action, lies on 
 the contrary side to that where it is generally sus- 
 pected. He has more need of his patience than 
 his temperance ; and he must be better humoured 
 than most men, if, when he once knows it well, he 
 does not almost lose all his charity for this world. 
 
 Quest. — What think you of the Milky Way in 
 the heavens ? 
 
 j4ns. — It is amusing to consider the extrava- 
 gant fancies of the poets and some of the ancient 
 philosophers about it. Some say that when Juno 
 suckled Hercules, and discovered who it was, she 
 spilt her milk there ; others that it is the space of 
 heaven which the Sun's chariot burnt by the ill 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 2J 
 
 driving of Phaeton ; others the j3lace where 
 Apollo fought the giants, the road of the gods 
 leading to Jupiter's palace, the residence of he- 
 roes, the mansion of the virtues, the highway of 
 souls, with innumerahle more such whims. The 
 former philosophers, particularly Aristotle, held 
 it to be a meteor, fed by plentiful exhalations 
 from the earth, and fired or irradiated by the stars 
 in this place. This opinion prevailed till the use 
 of long telescopes, which discover an innumer- 
 able company of small stars there, which are not 
 visible to the naked eye; and it is generally con- 
 cluded that it is nothing but stars, which being at 
 too great a distance to transmit their light to us 
 distinctly, the same is associated and united to- 
 gether thereby causing a whiteness, or a weak 
 and imperfect light. 
 
 Quest, — What is the reason of the Polarity of 
 the Loadstone, and that a needle touched with it 
 turns towards the North ? and what is the reason 
 of the Variation of the Compass in some places ? 
 
 j4m\ — It appears the earth itself is the great 
 magnet : when a bar of iron has stood long in the 
 window, that end of it which is next the earth 
 will have the same virtue which the loadstone has. 
 Mr. Boyle, in his book of the usefulness of Ex- 
 perimental Natural Philosophy, observed that a 
 loadstone heated red hot lost its attractive virtue, 
 and by cooling it again, he gave its extremes a 
 polarity ; and, by refrigerating the same end, some- 
 
38 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 times North, and sometimes South, changed the 
 poles at pleasure ; and this change was wrought 
 not only by cooling it directly North or South, 
 but perpendicularly, that end of it which was to- 
 wards the ground turning towards the North,which 
 shews the magnetic nature of the earth, its effluvia 
 being able to impart a magnetic faculty to the 
 loadstone itself. Now, if this terraqueous globe be 
 mostly earth under the North pole, the mystery is 
 plainly resolved ; or if it be the most perfect earth 
 there, and not dust or sand, by the burning of the 
 sun, or be not overcome with restringency of ice 
 and cold, the case is yet the same. Hence the 
 solution of the variation of the needle is also plain. 
 I am assured that, between the shore of Ireland, 
 France, Spain, Guinea, and the Azores, the North 
 point varies towards the East ; at some part of the 
 Azores it deflects not on the other side of the 
 Azores, and this side of the Equator, the North 
 point of the needle wheels to the West, so that in 
 the latitude 36^ near the shore the variation is 
 about 1 1 degrees : but on the other side of the 
 Equator it is quite otherwise ; for in Brasilia the 
 South point varies 12 degrees into the West ; but 
 elongating from the coast of Brasilia toward the 
 shore of Africa, it varies eatward, and arriving at 
 the Cape de las Aquilas, it rests in the meridian, 
 and looks neither way ; the cause of which varia- 
 tions is the inequality of the earth, variously dis- 
 posed, and indifferently mixed with the sea, the 
 needle drives that way where the greater and most 
 
HISTORY AND rHILOSOPHV. ^ 
 
 powerful part of the earth is placed ; for whereas 
 on this side the Azores the needle varies Eastward, 
 it is occasioned by that vast tract of part of Eu- 
 rope and Asia seated eastward. At Rome there 
 is a less variation than at London ; for on the West 
 side of Rome are seated the great Continents of 
 France^ Spain, and Germany ; but unto England 
 there is almost no earth Westward. 
 
 Quest. — Is it not better to die than to live ? 
 
 Ans, — The question ought to have particula- 
 rized one of these, — whether is it better for a good 
 man or a bad man, an animal or a vegetable, to 
 die or live? — and then a direct solution might have 
 been given. But suppose the question means in 
 general terms, we answer that life is much more 
 desirable than death. By a common instinct of 
 self-preservation, all creatures shun that great 
 evil, death. It is the greatest of all evils, because 
 a destruction of all good. A creature is much 
 more noble in its due proportions and shapes, 
 than when it lies in its corruption or chaos of 
 earth ; in the last there is nothing in it desirable 
 in respect either of itself, or the rest of the crea- 
 tion, but in the first there are particular impresses 
 of and communications from the great divine ori- 
 ginal good ; nay a good man himself would be 
 afraid of the grave w^ere he not in hopes of living 
 again. Life is the all of every being, being a 
 part of Him who is the fountain of life. What 
 perfection, happiness, and enjoyment, can be ex- 
 
30 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 pectedin nothingness ? All that can be pretended 
 in favour of the contrary opinion is the absence 
 of evil. " There/' say they, " we shall meet with 
 no crosses, disappointments, pain, misery, and, in 
 short, none of the evils of life." To which I an- 
 swer, that the presence of good is more desirable 
 than the absence of evil. Again, every individual 
 animal of the creation may be happy. Birds, 
 beasts, and fishes, seek no further than moderate 
 well-tempered elements, to fly, breathe, and 
 swim in, and sufficient food to live upon ; when 
 they enjoy this, they can seek no farther ; and if 
 so they must be happy, for if not they would 
 seek for happiness in something else. Man only? 
 that irregular restless lump, who knows no me- 
 dium of things, but is much more happy or mi- 
 serable than all the rest of the creation, is not left 
 destitute of his rest and end, namely God. If he 
 will be so inconsiderate, notwithstanding his fre- 
 quent disappointments, to renew his search after 
 happiness, where it is not to be found, he has 
 only himself to blame, but he has no cause to ac- 
 cuse his Creator, who has taken sufficient care for 
 his happiness, unless he expects to be made happy 
 against his will. 
 
 Quest, — Looking over Sir William Templets 
 Memoirs, I met with a story concerning an old 
 parrot, belonging to Prince Maurice, that readily 
 answered to several questions promiscuously put 
 to him. By what means did this creature attain 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 31 
 
 to the knowledge of doing that which to human 
 reason seems so very improbable ? 
 
 Ans, — Scaliger tells us, that he saw a crow in 
 the French king s court, that was taught to fly 
 at partridges, or any other fowls, from the fal- 
 coner's hand. Cardinal Assanio had a parrot 
 that was taught to repeat the Apostle's Creed ver- 
 batim in Latin. And in the Court of Spain there 
 was one that could sing the Gamut perfectly : if 
 at any time he was out, he would say, Nova 
 Bueno that is, " Not well ;" but when he was right, 
 he would say,'^Bue-nova,"" Now it is well." In the 
 time of war betwixt Auoustus Caesar and M. An- 
 tonius, there was a poor man at Rome, who, pur- 
 posing to provide for himself against all events, 
 had this contrivance. He bred up two crows with 
 his utmost diligence, and brought it to pass that 
 in their prating language one would salute Cae- 
 sar, and the other Antonius. This man, when 
 Augustus returned conqueror, met him upon the 
 way, with his crow in his hand, which ever and 
 anon came out with his " Salve, Caesar, Victor, Im- 
 perator;" "Hail, Caesar, the conqueror and emperor.'* 
 Augustus, dehghted herewith, purchased the bird 
 at the price of 20,000 deniers of Rome. It would 
 be too long to mention the tractability of the dra- 
 gon Seneca speaks of, or what strange things were 
 performed by Emanuel of Portugal's elephant; the 
 quickness of some dogs at Rome and Constanti- 
 nople. Our thoughts upon the whole are these : 
 That the novelty of things makes them wonderful, 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 when there is not the least reason for wonder^ if 
 we consider the nature of such things. We will 
 grant it possible for a parrot to answer distinctly 
 to such and such questions ; but this action needs 
 no reason to the performance of it, since it may 
 be effected without it, viz, by an habituated idea 
 of things. Not only man, but the inferior ranks 
 of animals receive their ideas by the senses. Sup- 
 pose the ear, for that comes nearest the question, 
 such and such sounds oft repeated, and such and 
 such actions immediately preceding or imme- 
 diately following such sounds, must necessarily 
 form a complex idea both of the sound and action ; 
 so that when either such action or such sound is 
 repeated, an idea of the other must necessarily 
 attend it. Thus dogs are taught to fetch and 
 carry ; and thus parrots talk when they speak 
 more words than one together ; as, for instance, 
 " Poor Poll these words being often repeated 
 together, if one of them be mentioned and the 
 other left, there must necessarily be an idea of 
 the other sound, because custom and habit chain 
 them together ; and if two words, why not three ? 
 and if three, why not many together? There 
 needs but a little more diligence, care, and fre- 
 quent instruction. Some wonder to see an ele- 
 phant dance, when all is nothing but the pure 
 effect of custom upon repetition of complex ideas. 
 The manner of teaching an elephant to dance has 
 been thus practised. They bring a young ele- 
 phant upon a floor, lieat it underneath, and play 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 upon the music while he hfts up his legs and 
 shifts his feet about by reason of the torture of the 
 heat ; this often practised, he does so upon the bare 
 sound of music ; so that it shews, when he dances 
 after music, that it is not from any principles 
 of reason, but from the concatenation of the two 
 ideas of heat and music, which custom has habi - 
 tuated him to. And thus it is with dogs, birds, 
 dancing horses, parrots, magpies, &c. 
 
 Quest, — Whence arose the custom of allowing 
 the Benefit of Clergy to some offenders ? If it 
 was to transcribe manuscripts, as some say, be- 
 fore the art of printing was known, why is it 
 still continued, since that reason has long ago 
 ceased ? 
 
 /Ins. — In the extreme times of Popish igno- 
 rance, when monks themselves could scarcely 
 understand or read Latin, and the common peo- 
 ple were wholly ignorant of it, the monks had 
 that privilege of reading their neck-verse, what- 
 ever villainies they committed, whilst the illi- 
 terate vulgar died for it; and thence came the 
 Benefit of Clergy. But why it is yet continued 
 we know not, unless those Statutes were never 
 repealed since the monks flourished in this king- 
 dom. Possibly the first custom in this Nation 
 came from the old Romans, who sometimes par- 
 doned criminals upon the repeating of 
 
 Tu potis es nigrum, vitio prefigore Theta." 
 D 
 
34 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — What is your opinion of the star that 
 appeared at our Saviour's birth, and went before 
 the wise men ? its nature, magnitude, height, and 
 duration r 
 
 Arts. — It is very probable that it was a sort of 
 Comet, apparently like a common star, because 
 it was so low as to seem to stand over the place 
 where our Saviour was born ; for, if it had been 
 but as high as the Moon, it would have appeared 
 yet farther off when the wise men came to Beth- 
 lehem. For the rest, we find no credible author 
 amongst the ancients that makes any mention 
 of it. 
 
 Quest. — When the Enghsh and French fleets 
 fought, many persons who saw the battle could 
 discern the flashing of fire, but heard no guns ? 
 The spectators stood upon a high hill by the sea ; 
 and others, who were forty miles behind them 
 within land, heard the guns very perfectly. — 
 Query, why those within sight, at ten leagues 
 distance, could not hear, while those who were so 
 much farther oflT could ? 
 
 Ans, — Sound cannot proceed farther than the 
 first body it meets with ; all others are mock 
 sounds, or echoes by a reverberation, or repercus- 
 sion of the air : therefore the sound meeting with 
 that hill whereupon your acquaintance stood, 
 was made the first repercussion, which would an- 
 swer in the next valley to it within-land ; and as 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 35 
 
 many valleys as it met with, so many echoes it 
 made; so that when the sound came to those per- 
 sons so far within-land, it might very well be 
 heard several minutes before it reached them. It 
 was impossible to hear it upon the first hill, for 
 want of a proper echo between that and the sea. 
 If your acquaintance had turned their backs, and 
 hearkened from the echoes within -land, they 
 might have heard a faint repetition of it that way. 
 
 Quest. — What is the reason that, by applying 
 the empty shells of some shell-fishes to your ear, 
 you may therein perceive a noise like the roaring 
 of the sea ? 
 
 Ans. — ^Those shells have a gyral conformation, 
 not altogether unlike that of the ear itself. Now 
 the air being imprisoned in the turnings and 
 windings within, has that particular rushing 
 sound, either in forcing itself out, or passing from 
 one part thereof to another, being forced in by the 
 motion of the exterior air, and wandering about 
 in those meatuses, or curious labyrinths, wherein 
 it is received. 
 
 Quest. — By what means a rudder guides a 
 ship ? 
 
 Ans. — By making a small sort of a stream, or 
 current, which takes the ship or boat either on 
 one side or the other, and turns it accordingly 
 which way soever the steersman pleases. 
 
 D 2 
 
36* THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest, — Why do such as would shoot right 
 wink with one eye? 
 
 Ans. — Because there is but one right Hne from 
 one point to another ; but from two eyes there are 
 tvvo lines to one object, vvliich^ though they both 
 terminate tliere, yet do not begin together ; there- 
 fore two eyes beginning at several points^ cannot 
 both of them act directly, unless he shoot with 
 two guns at once. 
 
 Quest. — Who are the most happy in the world, 
 wise men or fools r 
 
 Ans. — Much may be said of either, but the 
 manner very different. If the fool be the happier, 
 the world is a very desirable place, there being 
 such a quantity of happy men in it. The Su- 
 preme Being is essential happiness ; those, there- 
 fore, that act the most like him are happiest. 
 There is but one right line, and infinite crooked 
 ones; one wisdom, but follies innumerable ; one 
 real goodness, but divers appearances of it ; and 
 but one best way to every thing, and to judge of 
 every thing that is reason, or understanding. 
 Here only is the paradox ; the fool's happiness 
 consists in a privation of grief, and the happiness 
 of a wise man in possession of good ; which, 
 being a little considered, the result of this next 
 question will answer the first ; namely, which 
 would be more miserable, a wise man that wanted 
 his good, or a fool that had a sense of his grief? 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 37 
 
 In this reverse the wise man would be more mise- 
 rable ; because he that wants his happiness wants 
 every thing, but he that has a sense of grief may 
 have a sense of happiness. Now this reverse, or 
 contrary to the reverse, must necessarily make him 
 happy ; namely, his possession of good is prefer- 
 able to the fool's privation of grief. 
 
 Quest. — What is the reason of, and when be- 
 gan, that custom of changing the Pope's name at 
 his inauguration ? 
 
 Arts. — Pope Gregory the Fourth being dead in 
 the year 842, they chose for the sovereign bishop 
 of Rome a Roman of noble blood, illustrious edu- 
 cation, but of a harsh name, viz. Hogsface: there- 
 fore, because this name seemed to him disagree- 
 able to such a holy function, and remembering 
 that our Saviour changed the name of St. Peter, 
 he also changed his name, and called himself 
 Sergius after his father. From thence came the 
 custom observed to this day, that he who is chosen 
 Pope may at his pleasure take what name pleases 
 him best; but they keep the custom of taking the 
 names of some of their predecessors. 
 
 Quest. — Whether the sky be of any colour? 
 
 j4ns, — No, if you mean by sky the aether ; nor 
 are clouds of any colour naturally, but what they 
 receive by reflection from different lights. 
 
38 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — Whether snakes are hurtful by na- 
 ture ? 
 
 ^ns. — Our English snakes are harmless worms, 
 as now almost every ploughman and old woman 
 knows. That which appears so dreadfully out of 
 its mouth, and which it brandishes so like a sting, 
 is only a poor innocent tongue, more soft, if pos- 
 sible, than a silken thread. It has teeth, but 
 never bites any thing, though highly provoked, 
 unless it be a little grass. They hiss and leap at 
 any thing when vexed, but never do any injury. 
 We warn the reader never to take up by mistake 
 vipers in the fields instead of the other; their poi- 
 son, without speedy remedies, being very deadly, 
 though it is thought not so strong as those in 
 warmer climates. 
 
 Quest, — Was there ever any such execution 
 practised in England as hanging in chains alive? 
 
 Ans. — Many about three hundred years since, 
 and some few instances within two hundred years, 
 whence it is common that you have relation of 
 persons eating their shoulders, and as far as they 
 could reach, to preserve life a little longer than 
 otherwise it was possible. Under this head comes 
 that famous relation of the woman that kept her 
 father alive for a considerable time with the milk 
 of her own breasts. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 39* 
 
 Quest, — Whether the force and virtues of the 
 old Egyptian TaHsmans, and their other magical 
 operations, were true and real, or only imagery, 
 or illusion r 
 
 Ans. — In treating upon this subject, we shall 
 consider it in this method. The word itself ; the 
 manner how it is made; what efltict (according to 
 the ancients) it hath produced ; and, lastly, what 
 our judgment is upon the whole. 
 
 The word Talisman is Arabic, and comes very 
 near the Hebrew v^^ord Iselem, which signifies 
 image, figure, or character. So far as we can 
 learn, Zoroaster was the first inventor of it. 
 Some authors tell us, that the manner of making 
 it is thus When such and such constellations, 
 aspects, &c. of stars happen, which according to 
 observation had such and such influences, the 
 artist engraved his Talismani, or figure, in the 
 nature of an hieroglyph ick, signifying such and 
 such mystery, upon some metal, precious stones, 
 rings, or medals, which they believed would re- 
 ceive and keep the critical influences of their 
 designed aspects. Some were to work cures, 
 some to incite such and such passions, some to 
 keep away rain, hail, venomous beasts ; in short, 
 all sort of evils ; and others were to procure such 
 and such good things, according to the nature of 
 the aspect under which they were engraved. But 
 engraving would be too long an action, and would 
 not be finished before its proper aspect was over, 
 
 D4 
 
*40 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 and another begun ; therefore, we are rather of 
 the opinion of those authors, who inform us, that 
 the metal was ready melted, and at the critical 
 moment cast into a mould, where it received the 
 impression designed by its author, under its re- 
 spective constellation. 
 
 It would be too long to tell the w^orld that 
 many things have really been effected by (or 
 at least under the shew of) a talismanical vir- 
 tue, amongst the Egyptians; besides, in other 
 histories there are various instances. VirgiPs 
 brazen fly and golden horseleach, with which 
 he hindered flies from entering into Naples, 
 and killed all the horseleeches in a ditch. The 
 5gure of a stork, placed by Apollonius at Con- 
 stantinople, to drive all the storks out of that 
 country ; as also that of a gnat, which cleared 
 Antioch of those troublesome insects. Thus we 
 read that the people of Hampts, in Arabia, and 
 those of Tripoli, in Syria, preserved themselves 
 from venomous beasts by the talisman of a scor- 
 pion, placed upon one of their towers. Paracelsus 
 mentions one against the pestilence, Julius Risto- 
 nius a Prato had one powerful against the gout, 
 with innumerable more such instances ; which 
 not only shew that there have been such things 
 as Talismans, but that really such eflfects have 
 been, and as was supposed by virtue of their cha- 
 racteristic. 
 
 We shall also give the reasons why the aa- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 41 
 
 cieiits believed such virtues in theui ; viz, be- 
 cause they really believed the stars had such 
 and such influences, which might be communi- 
 cated by sympathy, as our sympathetic pow^der, 
 wound-salve, &c. 
 
 Now, and according to the observations for- 
 in.erly made upon the ophites, which having veins 
 in it, like a serpent, cure the bite of a serpent by 
 application ; the squill and poppy, which resem- 
 ble a head, cure the head-ache ; eye-bright cures 
 sore eyes, which it resembles ; and innumerable 
 more such unaccountable things in nature. 
 
 Our opinion is, that really such cures and other 
 miracles have been wrought, but it was only by the 
 help of the devil, not of Talismans ; and in this 
 the devil imitates God, who was pleased to make 
 use of a brazen serpent to cure the Israelites. Thus 
 a silly juggler, " Blow here, Presto be gone," &c. 
 which was only mock and pretence, when some- 
 thing else was the cause of conveyance. Under this 
 may be reckoned charms for tooth-ache, agues, 
 &c. as also unlawful and wicked trials about 
 witches, and a hundred observations, which weak 
 and ignorant people are guilty of. 
 
 But to prove Talismans, charms, &c. to be all 
 abuse, cheat, and illusion, we shall offer: 
 
 That every thing acts by its first or second 
 qualities, or by its substance, whence proceed 
 all properties and sympathies ; not by their quali- 
 
*42 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ties^ as heat, cold, hardness, softness, &c. ; since 
 then it oight do in other shapes : not in their sub- 
 stance, for sevc - al sorts of matter will serve to make 
 a Talismiui. To which we might add, that it is 
 not the figure neither, which is no more proper to 
 receive the influences of such an aspect, than the 
 skin of the animal itself stuffed with straw: those 
 tilings, which cure by occult and unknown qua- 
 lities, do it not by virtue of their figure, but by 
 the property of their substance, which remains 
 when they are despoiled of their figure, and 
 turned into powder. In short, the whole is a 
 wicked, superstitious, ridiculous juggle, and the 
 devil has had too many fair opportunities of such 
 things for his interest. 
 
 Quest, — Whether a main does not sin as much 
 in spending his money foolishly, as in being 
 covetous ? 
 
 Ans, — Upon some accounts, we think more; 
 for a prodigal man, in our judgment, is a worse 
 member of the commonwealth than the covetous; 
 because a man may be covetous, without injuring 
 any body but himself, and some or other will 
 at least get something by his death ; but the 
 prodigal man not only ruins his own family, 
 but very frequently all besides that have any 
 thing to do w ith him ; when he dies, cheats 
 all besides the worms. And so fare thee well, 
 Bristol. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. S9 
 
 Quest, — Who was the first Philosopher r 
 Ans. — It is affirmed by Laertius that Thales 
 was the first among the Greeks in natural philoso- 
 phy and mathematics. He is called by Plutarch 
 the inventor of philosophy ; by Justin Martyr the 
 most ancient of philosophers; by Tertullian the 
 first that made an inquiry after natural causes. 
 
 Quest. — Whether, when a horse neighs, it is a 
 rejoicing or because he is angry ? 
 
 Ans. — We believe neither; but rather a desire 
 of company, as is frequently observed in all the 
 race both old and young. 
 
 Quest. — Why do parrots, magpies, &c. talk, 
 when several other birds cannot, if the same 
 means be used ? 
 
 Ans. — From a natural instinct of imitating 
 sounds, and not, as some believe, from a proper 
 formation of their tongue; for then those which had 
 tongues the most like men, as a dog, cat, and 
 other quadrupeds, would speak better than parrots. 
 
 Quest. — From what principle had idolatry its 
 first rise ? 
 
 Ans. — The most common opinion upon the 
 origin of idolatry is, that it began by adoration of 
 the sun and stars ; men being naturally inclined 
 to respect what they imagine the most noble ge- 
 neral causes of their felicity, as the heavens and 
 
40 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 the stars ; and afterwards they came to pay the 
 same homage to the greater part of those objects 
 which contributed to their preservation, or was 
 able to do them any harm. This opinion would 
 not be improbable, if man had been the work of 
 chance, and formed after the extravagant manner 
 that Epicurus and many poets have imagined : — 
 " Gensque viidm truncis, et rupto robore nata 
 
 and if they were the authors of their own reli- 
 gion. But what the Scripture tells us of the cre- 
 ation of the world, that it was peopled by one 
 man only, and re-peopled after the deluge by 
 only one family, does not agree very well with 
 this hypothesis. From thence it is plain that the 
 chief care of the Patriarchs to their children was, 
 to teach them that whatever we see was the work 
 of an invisible God, and that no creating power 
 could be attributed to any thing that is the object 
 of our senses. It is not very likely that all the 
 
 nations of the earth should so soon foroet these in- 
 to 
 
 structions, and so easily confound the Creator 
 with his creatures, nor that they should change 
 their God and Religion all of a sudden ; therefore 
 idolatry must insensibly be introduced, and have 
 taken its origin from some false explanations 
 which have been made of the true doctrine. In 
 the beginning they only adored God ; and although 
 in the time of the Patriarchs, to whom Angels 
 often appeared, they had a great veneration for 
 these celestial spirits, yet they carefully distin- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 41 
 
 guished this respect from divine adoration. They 
 beheved also soon after the beginning of the 
 world that the souls of just men, after their death, 
 were placed in the ranks of Angels, and by degrees 
 they were accustomed to look upon these spirits 
 as beings unto whom God had committed a part 
 of the care of the universe. After which they 
 came to think that, since God had given them so 
 much power, they might require their assistance, 
 and endeavour to make them favourable to them 
 by paying them a religious worship ; in pursuance 
 of which, they immediately erected statues to 
 them, and celebrated games and anniversary feasts 
 upon the day of their death ; and by degrees they 
 came to set up altars, consecrate temples, and 
 offer victims to them ; so that in a little time 
 the world was full of divinities; each nation 
 thinking it an honour to have more of them than 
 their neighbours, and to increase the number of 
 their gods, passed among them as a mark of their 
 intelligence. This was a mystery which the 
 heathens afterwards thought they were obliged to 
 hide from the common people, although the 
 learned among them were not ignorant of it. 
 Hesiod says freely, that the gods were good mor- 
 tals, who, by the will of the great Jupiter, were 
 become the guardians of men, and distributed 
 riches and the good things of this world to them. 
 St. Austin affirms, upon the testimony of Varro, 
 that, in all the writings of the heathens, it would 
 
42 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 be very difficult to find any of their gods who 
 were not men. Phny, who has made such deep 
 inquiries into antiquity, speaking of Vespasian 
 and other Roman heroes, which had been placed 
 in the number of the gods, says, " It was a very 
 ancient custom of testifying their acknowledgment 
 to persons of merit by placing them in the num- 
 ber of the gods;" and as for the names of all other 
 divinities, they owed their birth to the splendid 
 actions of men^ as may be seen in consulting Isi- 
 dorus of Seville. 
 
 Quest. — How came the Continent of America 
 and the Islands adjoining, to be inhabited at first: 
 for surely had the people been derived from any 
 nation of the then known world, they could never 
 have lost knowledge, learning, and discipline, to 
 such a degree ; for it is said they had not the 
 use of letters ? 
 
 Ans, — Noah and his family, having been accus- 
 tomed to the ark, would doubtless from thence 
 build some sort of vessels, at least for coasting 
 along shores; and when they were increased, and 
 spread over the Northern parts of Europe, might 
 very probably be transported by contrary winds, 
 or tempests, from Denmark or Scotland, to the 
 Northern parts of America, it being no great dis- 
 tance. This will appear still more probable if we 
 consider that earthquakes, tempests, &c. have 
 caused those strange alterations in the face of Na- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 43 
 
 ture, that many countries are now covered with 
 water that were formerly land, and many that 
 are now land were covered with water ; that some 
 are separated by the sea, as England and France, 
 which formerly lay together — of which we meet 
 with many examples in consulting the most an- 
 cient geography. Then the question will not any 
 longer be involved with that difficulty. As for 
 their ignorance, it is no argument for or against 
 their being or not being the sons of Noah. The 
 greatest part of Africa, and especially Southward, 
 are al too ether as illiterate as those in America, 
 and generally more savage. 
 
 Quest. — What is a perfect number ? 
 
 Ans. — A perfect number is that which is equal 
 to all its aliquot parts added together ; according 
 to this definition, 6 is a perfect number, because, 
 if you take its aliquot parts, which are ], 2, 3, 
 their sum will be equal to 6; again 28 is a perfect 
 number, because its aliquot parts, 1, 2, 4, 7, 14, 
 added together, make 28. Now if you will find 
 as many of them as you please, take the following 
 progression, 1, 2, 4, 8, \6, 32, &c. which it is 
 easy to continue in doubling every last term ; — 
 choose in this progression any one term, subtract 
 unity from it ; if the remainder is a prime num- 
 ber, multiply this remainder by the term imme- 
 diately preceding, the product will be a perfect 
 number; but if the remainder is no prime num- 
 
44 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ber, you must choose another term. This rule 
 will be made clear by some instances ; take the 
 term 4, subtract unity from it, the remainder is 
 3, which being multiplied by the term imme- 
 diately proceeding, viz. 2, the product 6 is a per- 
 fect number ; again, take the term 8, subtract 
 unity from it, the remainder is 7, multiply this 
 remainder by 4, the product is 28, which is a per- 
 fect number. But if you would take l6, because, 
 having taken unity from l6, the remainder, I5, is 
 no prime number, the product of 15, by 8, will 
 not be a perfect number; therefore, take the fol- 
 lowing term, 32, and working as is prescribed, 
 you will find 496 for another perfect number. 
 
 Quest. — A lady who is extremely troubled 
 with corns desires to know the reason ? 
 
 jl7is. — Alas, poor lady 1 There may be many 
 weighty reasons assigned for this sore calamity. 
 Perhaps her hard heart has infected her toes, and 
 made them as obdurate as herself; or else the little 
 wag Cupid is taking his vengeance upon her for 
 having murdered some of his humble servants, and 
 is turning her into stone for a flinty-hearted crea- 
 ture, as his cousin Apollo served Niobe ; and she 
 is now dying upwards as Daphne's poor toes rooted 
 in the ground, and if she appeases not the little 
 angry god quickly, she must in a few days expect 
 to be perfect plaster of Paris. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 45 
 
 Quest. — Pray prescribe rules to please a pas- 
 sionate father, and to break myself of being pas- 
 sionate ; which is not easy, because I take my 
 blood from him ? 
 
 Ans. — Never cross him when he is angry; ne- 
 ver do any tiling that looks like a slight upon 
 him ; be ready to obey his commands, and re- 
 member he is your father. For yourself, it is 
 sure enough that the inclinations we receive from 
 our parents are to be conquered by industry and 
 reason, though example teaches more forcibly 
 than either. Do but observe then how your fa- 
 ther looks when he is passionate, how he ex- 
 poses himself, and what weak things he speaks 
 and does ; and always reflect upon these, three 
 minutes and three quarters, precisely, by your 
 watch, whenever you feel yourself inclined to pas- 
 sion ; and this alone, we should think, as it is a 
 very proper, so would prove an efficacious re- 
 medy. 
 
 Quest, — How long has the invention of guns 
 been in the world ? 
 
 Ans. — According to the Portugal relations, the 
 gun was invented anno Christi 85, in the king- 
 dom of China, where most other inventions be- 
 gan, by one of their kings named Urtey ; but it 
 appeared not in Europe till 1350, when it was 
 found out by one Bertoldu, a German, occa- 
 sioned by an accident which lie saw happen in a 
 
46 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 mixture of sulphur and nitre inclosed in a vessel 
 over the fire, in making an experiment in che- 
 mistry. 
 
 Quest, — Sailing down the River Medvvay from 
 Chatham to Sheerness, about six o'clock in the 
 morning, there appeared a strange sun, I ob- 
 served, about 28 degrees from the true sun to the 
 South, and both of an equal distance from the ho- 
 rizon ; the sky was a little overcast, yet not so 
 much but that the true sun shined pretty clearly; 
 the false one was much inferior to it for lustre, 
 yet seemed to have the same dimensions and mo- 
 tion ; it continued about three quarters of an hour, 
 and vanished gradually. From whence did this 
 proceed ? 
 
 Ans. — The sun fills the air with its images, 
 which pass through the same, unless they be re- 
 flected by some body that is smooth and resplen- 
 dent in its surface, but opaque at the bottom ; 
 such are looking-glasses, and also water, whether it 
 be upon the earth or in the clouds. Now when 
 a smooth cloud that is ready to fall down into 
 rain happens to be opposite the sun, it repre- 
 sents the figure or image of the sun ; and if there 
 happen to be another opposite to this first, it re- 
 flects the figure — in the same manner as a looking- 
 glass, opposite to that wherein we look, receives 
 the image from the former, and represents the 
 same. If no one wonders to see the represents- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 47 
 
 tion of the sun here below in clear water^ or any 
 other resplendent body, it can be no great wonder 
 that the same sun imprints his image as well on 
 high as below ; not in one cloud only or two, but 
 in many, as Pliny observes he himself saw. 
 This multiplicity of suns, which are called Par- 
 helii, generally, though not always, happens ei- 
 ther about the rising or setting of the sun ; be- 
 cause the refraction which is necessary for seeing 
 them is not so well made to our eyes when the 
 sun is in the meridian. Also when the sun is in 
 the meridian he produces more heat, and does 
 not allow the cloud any time to stay, but dissolves 
 it as soon as it becomes opposite to him ; which 
 he does not at his rising or setting, being then 
 more weak. The same cause that shews us two 
 or three suns did also represent three moons, 
 under the Consulship of C. Domitius and C. Fla- 
 minius ; as also three other, which appeared in the 
 year 1315 for three months together ; which im- 
 pression is called Paroselene, and cannot be made 
 but at full moon. 
 
 Quest, — Of all callings and employments which 
 are the most cleanly, neat, and genteel ? 
 
 Ans, — The most cleanly is the dust-cart-man ; 
 the neatest the barber ; the genteelest the taylor. 
 
 Quest. — What is thought ? 
 
 ^w*,— It is the act of the mind, or rather the 
 
48 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 effect of that act ; an Ens Rationis, produced by 
 reflex, the \Gvy working of the soul, as being of 
 the essence of mind, or immaterial substance, 
 and consequently is actually inseparable from it, 
 without annihilation. Though this very effect 
 is not to be discovered without particular reflec- 
 tion, we often enough think at random, without 
 knowing precisely what we think of, unless we 
 actually rouse our minds, and reflect upon it. 
 
 Quest. — I am the father of several children, 
 and am very desirous to bring them up as may be 
 most to their advantage ; and hitherto I have ob- 
 served Solomon's maxim, not to spare the rod, for 
 fear of spoiling the child. For which I have been 
 much blamed, though my correction has always 
 been moderate ; but my accusers argue thus : the 
 whipping or keeping children in any awe de- 
 stroys their natural courage, dulls their under- 
 standing, and robs them of that presence of mind 
 which is necessary for all to have. I desire your 
 opinion concerning the correction and instruction 
 of children ? 
 
 — The proper educating of their children 
 ought to be the care of every parent, because 
 many, if not m.ost, of the irregularities of youth, 
 and errors and mistakes of riper years, proceed 
 from the want of it ; but so much wisdom is re- 
 quisite to be able rightly to correct and instruct 
 young persons, that it is not strange that so H^any 
 fail in their endeavours to perform it. There are 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 4^ 
 
 but few general rules to be given ; persons* cir- 
 cumstances, as well as the natural genius, and 
 constitution of children, differ so much. It 
 is undoubtedly the best way to begin to cor- 
 rect them for their little faults,, as soon as they 
 are capable of knowing they ofTend. Mode- 
 rate and just correction never hurts any, though 
 the tempers of children must be always consi- 
 dered ; such as are naturally meek or heavy 
 should be most gently dealt with ; but those who 
 are obstinate or high-spirited ought to be se- 
 verely corrected, and not too often, though when 
 it is done they must always be conquered. A 
 child whipped with these precautions is never in- 
 jured ; but when it is merely done, as too often 
 it is, only to satisfy a foolish passion in a parent, 
 without observing the just limits; as sometimes 
 beating it unmercifully for a small fault, and at 
 another time overlooking several very consider- 
 able ones, or else always using it outrageously 
 whether the crime be more or less. This the 
 child coming in course of time to perceive ; if it 
 be of a soft easy temper, it often discourages it, 
 and makes it become very dull ; and, if sour and 
 haughty, it makes it more stubborn and disobe- 
 dient. Children are also capable of having their 
 judgments instructed and manners formed much 
 sooner than is generally thought, as we have 
 seen in those of some persons of quality, whose 
 children of ten or twelve years of age have been 
 
50 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 as wise as youths commonly are at eighteen or 
 twenty. There must also be encouragements 
 used, as well as punishment, to make them 
 do well ; and such rewards should always be 
 given them, when they do their duty, as suits the 
 merit of the action. To this must also be added 
 the good example of those w ho instruct them ; a 
 wise tutor never does any thing before a child 
 which he would correct as a vice in him. 
 
 Quest, — What reason can you give, why the 
 Eastern wind should be so much colder and 
 sharper than the Western, seeing both are parallel 
 from the Sun and the Equinox ? 
 
 Ans. — A probable reason may be assigned from 
 the places from whence these winds come, or 
 which they visit in their passage. I'he Eastern 
 is a land-wind, and comes over vast tracts of cold 
 ground before it reaches our climate. The West- 
 ern comes from the sea, which is considerably 
 warmer than the land, where mixing with the va- 
 pours, which are accounted the cause of the 
 warmth of islands, it may come less sensibly 
 cold, than that which arrives from the contrary 
 quarter. 
 
 QweA'^.— What is the greatest happiness a man 
 can enjoy in the world r 
 
 A)}^. — A quiet conscience and a contented 
 mind. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 51 
 
 Quest. — Why is Britain represented by a wo- 
 man sitting with a shield, &c. on the copper 
 coins ? 
 
 Ans. — The fancy was taken from some old 
 Roman coins, which represented Britain in the 
 same manner. There are two very hke in Cam- 
 den, Tab. 3. both of Antoninus Pius. On the 
 reverse of the one, Britain is represented sitting 
 on a globe, though with no spear nor shield. 
 On the other she is in the same posture, though 
 much nearer our present coins, with a shield under 
 her and a spear in her hand, only in the shield we 
 have now added the cross. Nor need the querist 
 go any further than Lilly's rule, for a reason why 
 Britain is made a woman, since Judea and all 
 other names of countries or regions were reckoned 
 of that sex and gender. 
 
 Quest. — Whether it be possible for parents to 
 be over-fond of their children ? And whether 
 the humour of some parents be not very ridicu- 
 lous, who are always playing with their children, 
 and talking of their childish employment and 
 actions ? 
 
 Ans. — We suppose the fondness here intended 
 is that of parents towards their children when in 
 their infancy, when the honour of being a father 
 first comes upon them, or when the little fools 
 begin first to talk and play with the great ones. 
 To which we reply, that to be always employed 
 E 2 
 
52 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 in this manner, to plague others with the perpetual 
 relation of insipid childish follies, or to betray an 
 extravagant and immoderate affection towards 
 children, all these extremes are equally ridicu- 
 lous. But then neither do we here condemn 
 a very great tenderness and complaisance towards 
 children, not even though it should sometimes be 
 in private expressed by such actions as would* 
 if more public, appear sufficiently diverting. 
 
 Socrates told Alcibiades, who caught him play- 
 ing with a child, and laughed at him heartily, 
 that he would do well to suspend his censures 
 till he was himself a father. There have been m 
 this age persons of prudence, who recommend the 
 conversation with children, as soon as they begin 
 to shew the first dawnings of reason, as extremely 
 diverting, as well as innocent; and it is pity 
 those should ever have any of their own who do 
 not think so. There is nothing in the world, says 
 Petrarch, that is sweeter or more agreeable than 
 the little prattlings and looks of an infant. The 
 little blessings entertain us, in their way, with so 
 much sweetness and innocence, that nothing but 
 a mere barbarian can be proof against it. There 
 being besides this a natural tenderness and affec- 
 tion which is due from any person to that which 
 he has brought into the world, which those that 
 want may learn it even from brute creatures; 
 though the trial of their kindness, and the chief 
 instance of it, is in giving them a pious and in- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPMr. 53 
 
 genuous education, and doing nothing before 
 them when they grow up, which they would not 
 have them practice. It is only to observe the 
 mean between a worse than brutal neglect of chil- 
 dren, or aversion for them, and that nauseous 
 fondness of some persons towards them, which 
 makes them appear contemptible and ridiculous. 
 
 Quest, — What is the meaning of the word 
 Nature ? 
 
 Arts. — It is the settled course of things, or 
 steady order of causes and effects never altered 
 without a miracle. 
 
 Quest, — What is the reason that, when we move 
 a fire-stick swiftly round, there appears to be a 
 circle of fire, although the fire is but in one place 
 at a time ? 
 
 Ans. — The image of things is impressed on 
 the brain by the optic power ; and so long as that 
 impression remains, we believe we see such an 
 image, although we see it not at all. Thus, if we 
 fix our eyes a considerable time upon a window, 
 and immediately turn them towards some darker 
 place we may plainly distinguish the squares, &c. 
 which is nothing but the image in the brain. 
 Now the brain being purely passive, it is impos- 
 sible it should not take these impressions, whether 
 from real or apparent objects, as it is impos- 
 sible for a glass not to take reflections. Thus the 
 fire appears circular, as in the question, because 
 
54 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 it moves circularly. Suppose through 300 points 
 the eye strives to catch at every one of these 
 points, and at every one of them the brain re- 
 ceives the aforesaid impression, which impression 
 is circular, according to the motion of the fire ; 
 and the fire moving quickly, and repeating these 
 points several times, the impression is more sen- 
 sible, and not lost till renewed again, which there- 
 fore appears to us as one continued circle. 
 
 Quest, — Whether cutting off the bottom root 
 in planting of trees, as is usual, does not more 
 hurt than good ? 
 
 Ans. — No. The nearer any thing is to indi- 
 viduation, the nearer it comes to the nature of 
 immaterial bearings, and by consequence is the 
 more perfect ; as, for instance, a long sucker acts 
 not only to maintain itself, but the whole trunk 
 for which it acts ; but a short sucker saves so 
 much for the nourishment of the trunk, as it 
 spares compared to a longer. 
 
 Quest. — I am about nineteen years old, and 
 have been often desired by my friends, who 1 
 believe are pious persons, to learn to dance, 
 which I am sensible is needful to teach men 
 how to behave themselves in company; but I 
 somewhat question the lawfulness of it : for I 
 take it to be an institution of the Pagans, who, 
 upon the days of their sacrifices, did dance before 
 the altars of their gods; as also condemned by 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 55 
 
 the Fathers, as unlawful, in many of their writings. 
 Besides, it weakens piety, occasions iil thoughts, 
 and consequently seems a breach of the seventh 
 commandment; it having been also the occasion 
 of many bad actions, as well as the loss of time, 
 which we ought rather to employ in prayer, and 
 other exercises of piety and devotion. I desire 
 your opinion ? 
 
 Ans, — Though we would be very tender of 
 advancing any thing that should have an ill in- 
 fluence on manners, which are already but too 
 much corrupted; yet, we must own, we think 
 none of the reasons brought in the question con- 
 clusive against dancing. As for the first, it being 
 a Paganish institution, it would be very hard to 
 prove it, and we think it not true ; — for, first, 
 dancing seems, in some sort, natural. It is dif- 
 ficult not to leap for joy ; and the whole body 
 seems almost necessarily to folio v^^ the motion of 
 the spirits and blood, when more brisk and lively 
 than ordinary ; nor can the reducing of steps to 
 order be any more hurtful than leaving them 
 without order. Now this natural way of ex- 
 pressing mirth, which is also a healthful exercise 
 to the body, was in process of time made use of 
 by all nations, both in their sacred festivals and 
 on civil occasions. It was used in the festivals of 
 the Jews very early ; for we read in Exod. xv. 
 fO. that Miriam the Prophetess, and all the 
 women, went out with timbrels and with dances. 
 
5 6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 saying, Sing ye to the Lord," &c. And it is 
 even said, Psalm cxlix. 3, " Let them praise his 
 name in the dance." And that this was also a 
 civil expression of joy, common among the na- 
 tions even before Moses, appears from that of 
 Job xxi. 11, where he mentions the dancing of 
 children ; and this dancing was also a civil diver- 
 sion, and expression of joy and triumph, among 
 the Jews. The daughters of Shiloh went, it 
 seems, to dance every year, only for their diver- 
 sion ; and it was promised as a blessing to Israel, 
 Jer. xxxi. 13, "Then shall the virgin rejoice in 
 the dance, both young men and old together." 
 And dancing, as well as music, is mentioned as 
 customary on great joy, in the parable of the 
 Prodigal. The Fathers, we own, did sometimes 
 speak angrily against it, and so they did against 
 usury and other things ; wherein, though we 
 have a great and just respect both for their piety 
 and judgment, they are yet generally thought to 
 have been in an error, but by none ever thought 
 infallible. For the weakening of piety, it must 
 be by occasioning ill thoughts, or wasting time, 
 neither of which are necessary effects of it, any 
 more than of courtship to one you intend to 
 make your wife ; but, if you find they are, you 
 must forbear public dancing, and yet you may still 
 be privately instructed by a master at your own 
 chamber, there being a time for recreation as 
 well as severer study and business ; nay, as Solo- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 57 
 
 men says, "a time to dance, as well as to mourn." 
 From what has been said, we think, may be 
 deduced a full answer to all the objections the 
 question mentions ; though nothing is said here 
 for immodest dances, or devouring too much 
 time in them, which is equally unlawful, in that 
 or any other recreation. 
 
 Quest. — Why are mean persons coming to 
 honour generally prouder and less obliging than 
 gentlemen, &c. who have had better birth and 
 education ? 
 
 Ans. — Because a courteous and genteel beha- 
 viour takes a long time to be well learned, and is 
 seldom acquired unless men begin from their 
 very infancy, which persons of quality do; and 
 by constant conversation, either with those above 
 them, or else such as are well bred, they more 
 easily and naturally imitate their manners, and 
 can at least command their outward expressions 
 and behaviour. Whereas, on the contrary, those 
 who have had a mean education have their 
 minds generally rough, and still savouring of their 
 birth and breeding ; both because a habit imbibed 
 in infancy or youth is with great difficulty to be 
 conquered, and because they have not had so 
 much time or opportunity to polish their words 
 or behaviour, whence they may sometimes appear 
 proud when they really are not ; there being 
 some difference between pride and ill-breeding, 
 
58 THB ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 though much alike and very near a-kin. But 
 further, when such persons are really proud, 
 they have not perhaps been courtiers long enougli 
 to dissemble and hide it. Not but that there 
 are exceptions to be found on both sides — per- 
 sons well born, who disgrace both their birth 
 and education by ridiculous pride, which they 
 mistake for greatness of mind, though far distant 
 from it; and, on the contrary, there are of 
 meaner birth and parentage, who, by the force of 
 a more than ordinary genius, have soon learnt all 
 the finesses of conversation, and being as obliging 
 and well tempered as any in the world. 
 
 Quest. What was the chief cause of the de- 
 struction of the Empire of Constantinople. 
 
 Ans. — Most Historians conclude the principal 
 causes to have been the divisions of the Chris- 
 tians, and the perfidy and cruelties that were 
 exercised by many of them, to make themselves 
 masters of the empire. For they were so divided, 
 that, instead of thinking how they might unite 
 against the common enemy, they chiefly em- 
 ployed themselves in endeavouring to become 
 great, though to the injury of each other; and 
 thus, in violating the laws of Christianity, they 
 acted against true policy, which happens much 
 oftener than men are aware of. 
 
 Quest, — I am willing to have as perfect a 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 59 
 
 knowledge of things as my capacity will admit ; 
 therefore desire to know whether it may be by a 
 general or particular application to the sciences ? 
 
 Ans. — Since it is impossible our narrow capa- 
 cities should be able to receive a perfect know- 
 ledge of all things, it is much better for us to 
 limit our studies to one, or a few, that our assi- 
 duous application thereto may render us as abso- 
 lute masters thereof as is possible to be attained in 
 this world ; for by the pursuit of all we are sure 
 to gain but a superficial knowledge. But were it 
 possible for us by a long tedious enquiry to under- 
 stand the true causes of every production, and to 
 discover Nature even in her most hidden recesses, 
 yet our happiness would be defective; since pos- 
 session only would avail but little to our satisfac- 
 tion, without we were able to possess and enjoy 
 that knowledg^e. So that it is not enouo-h to have 
 a great stock of notions, without we were able to 
 bring them to practice ; and this is better done 
 by him that understands one thing perfectly, than 
 by him that has a confused notion of all things, 
 which is knowing a little of every thing, and of 
 all nothing ; we cannot think of two things at the 
 same time. And so our eye and mind can discern 
 but one single tree in a forest, one branch in a 
 tree, nay perfectly but one single leaf in a branch ; 
 the reflection of the mind, like that of the eye, 
 being made by a direct line, which has but one 
 point of incidence. And the least thing, even 
 
60 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 the least part, is sufficient to employ the mind of 
 man ; from which consideration a Philosopher 
 once exercised his wit for forty-three years upon 
 an emmet. And many volumes have been writ- 
 ten upon particular animals and plants ; as Apu- 
 leius busied himself about an ass ; Crysippus on 
 a cole-wort ; Marcion and Diodes upon the tur- 
 nip and rape ; Phanias of a nettle ; Juba on Eu- 
 phorbium, &c. And although all persons are de- 
 sirous of knowledge, yet mens inclinations are 
 very different ; and some take to one study, and 
 some to another, which Nature has seemed wisely 
 to provide for discovery and preservation of the 
 sciences, which end would be frustrated, should 
 we inquire after new ones before we have attained 
 what we first seek after, considering the shortness 
 of our lives, and the copiousness of the arts ; 
 wherefore it is necessary for every one to apply 
 himself to what he is most naturally inclined, for 
 thereby men have only become famous. As Plato, 
 instead of improving philosophy as he might have 
 done, indulged his genius in studying metaphy- 
 sics, Socrates morality, Democritus natural philo- 
 sophy, and Archimedes the mathematics, &c.; and 
 on the contrary, some persons striving to be uni- 
 versal have failed in excelling in any thing. 
 
 Quest. — What degree does Silver bear amongst 
 other metals ? what are the chief properties of it. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6l 
 
 and from whence is it that we have the greatest 
 part of it r 
 
 j4ns. — Silver is the finest metal in the world 
 excepting gold ; it will beat very thin, and stretch 
 in wire beyond any sort of metal but gold, even 
 as small as a man's hair. It will not rust, but 
 cankers a little into a pale blue, consumes some 
 small matter in melting ; it is dissolvable, like 
 other metals, in aquafortis ; and a thin plate of it, 
 as a great or lesser piece, rubbed with brimstone 
 and held over a candle, splits and moulders, be- 
 cause it is a calcine, the powder of which paints 
 glass yellow. It chiefly comes from the West 
 Indies and High (xermany, being dug out of 
 mines in an ore not much unlike lead or anti- 
 mony, and the richer veins of lead are said to 
 have much silver in them. 
 
 Quest. — Of Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, 
 which was the best ? 
 
 Ans. — You had done well to have told us whe- 
 ther you mean the best Man, or the best Philoso- 
 pher. Pythagoras, as far as we know of him at 
 this distance of time, appears to have been the 
 best moralist of the three, especially if we believe 
 the Golden Verses, like the Orphaies of Orpheus, 
 to contain his precepts. But then his philosophy 
 was whimsical and trifling. Plato talks very 
 handsomely and magnificently of divine things, 
 and well deserves that title Antiquity has given 
 
62 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 him. But then he is magisterial rather than ar- 
 gumentative, and proceeds more upon tradition 
 than reason. Aristotle appears not to have been 
 over moral, nor to have much troubled himself 
 with divinity ; but yet his ethics, as to theory, 
 are for the most part sound and practicable ; he 
 had a large soul, and could comprehend any 
 thing. He was happier than either of the others, 
 in having for his patron the Conqueror of the 
 world, by whose assistance he made experiments 
 which others were incapable of ; and besides, we 
 still read with admiration his rhetorick and his 
 poetry, which show he was a person of extraordi- 
 nary depth of judgment, and deep insight into 
 mankind and the affairs of life. 
 
 Quest. — What is Happiness? 
 
 Ans. — It is not what the world generally sup- 
 poses, since there are so many disappointed ; and 
 the pretences of mankind in this search would, to 
 an unconcerned looker-on, argue that men are 
 creatures of different species. It was not without 
 good reason that the ingenious Earl of Rochester, 
 in his Satire against man, concludes that some 
 men differ more from others than others do 
 from beasts; meaning, as is evident by what pre- , 
 cedes, that the really pious few, that believe and 
 live well, have not only their pretences, but ideas 
 of things, very different from those of other men, 
 whose souls are immersed in sense, and lost in 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6^ 
 
 body. Those that know the world most are the 
 best judges of the dissatisfactions and disappoint- 
 ments that every one complains of. Here is one 
 who promises himself a large share of felicity by 
 purchasing such an estate, another this prefer- 
 ment, a third by the possession of that cruel fair- 
 one, &c. ; and if, by an unwearied industry, or, 
 in respect of us, an adventitious occurrence, the 
 business is accomplished, we are yet either where 
 we were, wishing for something else under the 
 same impatience, or labouring under the too late 
 repentance of disappointments. And the reason 
 is evident, for we put false values upon things at 
 a distance, and fix the whole of our inclinations 
 upon unproportional objects. As no man smells 
 with his eyes or ears, or tries sounds with his 
 nose, so no wise man will stamp an unjust esti- 
 mate upon the pleasures of sense, and the actions 
 wherein his body is mostly concerned. It is the 
 pleasures of a well-informed mind, and the reflec- 
 tions of just and virtuous actions, that gives a title 
 to what our querist call Happiness. Every crea- 
 ture is made for some end ; and if this order he 
 inverted, such a creature is abused, or made in 
 vain. The end of man was, to know, love, and 
 enjoy his Maker ; and where this conformity 
 holds, there ensues a happiness proportionable to 
 the measure of those ; — and this is what we un- 
 derstand by Happiness. 
 
 1 
 
^4 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — Is there any cure for Stammering, and 
 what is it ? 
 
 Ans. — There is; for we have known it cured in 
 several instances. There are more ways than one 
 to do it ; the first is, repeating many hard words 
 dehberately several times a day ; and for preven- 
 tion, never speaking in haste. The other, keeping 
 a pebble or some such thing in your mouth, and 
 speaking or reading with it there. 
 
 Quest. — Was there such a man as Hercules ? 
 
 Ans. — In the time that Deborah and Barac 
 were Judges of Israel, a Phoenician merchant, 
 named Alcides, who was born in Boeotia, and 
 who, it is supposed, was our very Hercules, un- 
 dertook great voyages, sometimes alone, and 
 sometimes in company ; some upon his own ac- 
 count, and others by commission. He established 
 many Colonies ; and as Greece was not yet well 
 peopled, so in many places the new inhabitants 
 were obliged to take a great deal of pains to de- 
 fend themselves, as well from wild beasts as the 
 injuries of the air. In that time, there were many 
 young men that kept and fed the tamer beasts, 
 that had successfully accustomed themselves to 
 the fighting with bears and lions. Alcides had at 
 eighteen years of age killed a lion in a mountain 
 of Boeotia who had made a great ravage in the 
 Theban flocks ; on which the king of that place 
 gave in marriage to him, or to his men, his daugh- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 ters ; and Alcides used afterwards to wear the 
 skin of the Hon he had slain for a cloak. He 
 likewise killed another lion in the forest of Ne- 
 mea, which, by the order of the king of Mycena, 
 he had chased into some park, where he conti- 
 nued a longtime, and there established the power- 
 ful colony of the Heraclidas, which signified mer- 
 chants. This colony delivered the country from 
 many venomous animals, and made themselves 
 famous by hunting the wild boars and savage 
 bulls of the mountains. 
 
 After this Alcides left his colony in Peloponnes- 
 sus, and returned to Thebes ; but departing upon 
 some business in his travels, Eurytus, Prince of 
 Ecalia, promised to give his daughter to him that 
 best drew the bow. Alcides presented himself, 
 and made it appear that he was the most expert 
 in that exercise ; but the king kept not his word, 
 under pretence that the Phoenicians had been ac- 
 customed to sacrifice their own children ; yet 
 Iphitus, the king's son, became a friend to Alci- 
 des, whom Alcides afterw^ards killed in a quarrel; 
 for which murder he fled to Laconia, where the 
 prince of the place purified him according to the 
 manner of that time by plunging him in a river; 
 but falling sick, he thought the gods were angry 
 with him for the murder, and therefore resolved 
 to consult a famous priest that lived at Delphos. 
 He told Alcides that, to cure his infirmity, he must 
 quit Greece, and make satisfi\ction to Eurytus. 
 
 F 
 
66' THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 This advice he intended to follow ; but being ar- 
 rived on the coasts of Asia, he was made a slave 
 by some subjects of Omphales queen of Lydia, 
 where he continued three years ; in which time 
 he made some famous voyages, and in one of them 
 at last discovered some Phoenician vessels, which 
 he joined^ and^ upon his making himself known to 
 them, they delivered him from his captivity. He 
 went not very far, but stopped in Mysia, where he 
 established a colony ; but the riches of Phrygia 
 raised an envy in the Phoenicians that were in 
 Mysia, and put them in mind of besieging some 
 advantageous fort near Troy, and establish them- 
 selves there ; to which end they equipped a little 
 fleet of eighteen vessels, that they themselves had 
 built, and went under the conduct of Alcides; but 
 the repulse of the enemy, and some divisions 
 amongst themselves, made them soon leave the 
 place. Alcides, returning from thence into Greece, 
 was again engaged in wars to defend his colony at 
 Peloponnessus. He a little after died upon a 
 mountain of Thessaly, called CEta, where his body 
 was burnt, as was then the custom of that coun- 
 try ; and because of his mighty actions, he was 
 placed amongst the number of the gods. And 
 although all these things were not done by him- 
 self only, because he was the chief, he had the 
 honour of all enterprizes. Besides the name of 
 Alcides, or Alceus, that he had from his infancy, 
 he was called Herokel, which the Greeks made 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6j 
 
 Heracleis, and the Latins Hercules. It is a Phoe- 
 nician word, which signifies merchant. And in- 
 deed Alcides did nothing else but establish Phoeni- 
 cian colonies, or make the negotiations of those 
 more flourishing that drew their origin from Phoe- 
 nicia. 
 
 Quest. — Why does the fruit of a tree in graft- 
 ing always take after the scion, and not after the 
 root ? 
 
 Ans. — ^The juice which ascends from the earth 
 for the nourishment of the tree is the same in all 
 trees ; but their particular fruits, and their diflfer- 
 ent formation, seem to depend on the internal dis- 
 position of those more immediate parts from 
 whence they are produced. Thus we see, not 
 only very good fruits raised from a thorn, and 
 good apples from a crab-stock, but several sorts of 
 fruit on the same tree ; which seems evidently to 
 demonstrate that those fine meatuses, or channels, 
 in the graft form those juices which the root re- 
 ceives from the earth according to their own na- 
 ture, and thence produce their own proper fruits ; 
 as seals, or rather moulds, instamp such impres- 
 sions on a large piece of wax, not as it had be- 
 fore, but as they themselves represent. One and 
 the same trunk will give nutriment to apples^ 
 pears, and all sorts of fruits that have pippins in 
 them, but not to stoned fruit, as plumbs, apri- 
 cots, &c. which are of a different species. 
 
6S 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — From what cause proceeds the shell 
 that covers the snail ? 
 
 ^ns. — From the same cause that the nails of a 
 man's fingers proceed, namely, from moisture ; 
 which is also the cause of hair ; and as a man's 
 finger shapes the nail growing out of it, so the 
 body of the snail shapes the shell, or horn, which 
 receives its nourishment from that part or knot 
 whereby it is fastened to the snail. 
 
 Quest, — How was it that they formerly pre- 
 served bodies for so long a time without their 
 corrupting? 
 
 Ans. — The antients were so careful, not only 
 of preserving the images of their forefathers, but 
 also of keeping their bodies, that they variously 
 embalmed them. The Grecians washed them in 
 wine mingled with warm water, and then put them 
 into oil of olives, honey, or wax. The Ethio- 
 pians first salted them, and then put them into 
 vessels of glass. In the Canary Islands they sea- 
 soned them in the sea, and afterwards dried them 
 in the sun. The Scythians placed them upon 
 mountains covered with snow, or in the coolest 
 caves. The Indians covered them with ashes. The 
 Egyptians, believing that corrupted bodies rose 
 not again, and that the soul was sensible of the 
 body's corruption, were as curious in their pre- 
 servation as any nation whatever; they filled them 
 with myrrh, cinnamon, and other spices, or with 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 6^ 
 
 oil of cedar; then tliey salted them with nitre, 
 whose acrimony consumed all the superfluous hu- 
 midities which caused putrefaction. 
 
 Quest, — What is Anger ? 
 
 Ans. — Anger is a passion caused by the appre- 
 hension of a present evil, which may be repelled, 
 but with some difficulty ; its principle is the soul, 
 its instrument the spirits, its matter the blood, its 
 seat the heart. It proceeds from a temper of 
 body hot and dry, and easy to be inflamed, or 
 from the diversity of seasons, times, ages, and 
 sex. Hence the choleric and young persons are 
 more inclined to it than the phlegmatic and aged, 
 because they have a temper more proper to this 
 passion. Women and children are easily dis- 
 pleased, through weakness of mind; as it is a sign 
 of a sublime spirit not to be troubled at any 
 thing, but to believe that as every thing is below 
 itself, so nothing is capable of hurting it ; which 
 reason Aristotle made use of to appease the rage 
 of Alexander, telling him, " he ought never to be 
 incensed against his inferiors, but only against his 
 equals or superiors ; and, there being none that 
 could equal him, much less surpass him, he had 
 no cause of anger." Anger is one of the most de- 
 formed and monstrous passions, so violent that it 
 causes the face to look pale, afterwards red ; the 
 eye sparkles, the voice trembles, the pulse beats 
 with violence, the hair becomes stiff, the mouth 
 
70 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 foams, the teeth gnash, the hand cannot hold; 
 the mind is no longer in its own power, hut is be- 
 side itself for some time, anger not differing from 
 rage, but in duration ; which made a philosopher 
 tell his servant, " he would chastise him if he were 
 not angry and the Emperor Theodosius com- 
 manded his officers never to execute any person 
 by his orders till about three days ; and Xenodo- 
 rus advised Augustus never to determine any thing 
 when he found himself angry, till he had first softly 
 repeated the twenty-four letters of the Greek al- 
 phabet. And indeed, if this passion be not re- 
 pressed, it transports a man so out of himself that 
 he is incensed, not against men only, but even 
 against beasts, plants, and inanimate things ; as 
 Ctesiphon, who in great fury fell to kicking with 
 a mule ; and Xerxes, who scourged the sea. And 
 it even reduces men to such brutality, that they 
 fear not to lose themselves for ever, if they can 
 hut be revenged on those that have offended them. 
 
 Quest, — Which may be most easily resisted, 
 Pleasure or Pain ? 
 
 ylns. — If Pleasure be considered as a good, and 
 Pain as an evil, it is clear the latter is as insuj)- 
 portable as the former is agreeable. But there 
 are two sorts of good and evil, pain and pleasure, 
 one of the mind, the other of the body ; and fre- 
 quently the pains and sufferings of the body are 
 the joys of the mind ; and the pleasures and gr-a^ 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ?! 
 
 tifications of the flesh, the crosses and torments of 
 the spirit. Now there are scarcely any pure and 
 unmixed pleasures or pains in the world ; they 
 are usually mingled one with the other ; and if 
 they could be separated, pain would turn the scale, 
 as being the more heavy and difficult to be sup- 
 ported. In reference to which mixture, the Greek 
 poet judiciously feigned that there are two vessels 
 at the entrance of heaven, one full of honey and 
 sweetness, the other full of gall and bitterness; 
 of which two liquors mingled together Jupiter 
 makes all to drink, and tempers with them every 
 thing he pours down here below ; so that the 
 pains and pleasures of the mind or the body being 
 moderate, and indifferently tempered with each 
 of those liquors, may be supported by men. 
 Pleasure and good, as the more natural, much 
 more easily than evil and pain, which are destruc- 
 tive to Nature : but when both of them are ex- 
 treme, and the sweetness of pleasure is not abated 
 by any little mixture of unhappiness, nor the bit- 
 terness of misfortunes lessened by small satisfac- 
 tions, then men cannot relish this potion, because 
 they are not accustomed to things pure and sin- 
 cere, but to confusion and mixture, and cannot 
 bear the excess of joy or grief, the extremes of 
 which are found to be fatal. 
 
 In the first place, with respect to Grief ; — Li- 
 cinus, finding himself condennned for cheating the 
 public, died with regret; Fabius, because he was 
 
72 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 cited before the tribunes of the people for vio- 
 lating the laws of nations ; Juha, Caesar s daugh- 
 ter, at the sight of the bloody garnaents of her 
 husband Pompey ; and one of the sons of Gilbert 
 duke of Monpensier, going into Italy, died upon 
 the sepulchre of his father, which he went thither 
 to see. 
 
 And as for Joy, besides our own experience, 
 many remarkable examples shew the excess 
 of it as deadly. Diagorus Rhodius, seeing his 
 three sons victorious in one day at the Olym- 
 pic games, died with joy. The like fate also be- 
 fel Chino the Lacedaemonian, upon the same vic- 
 tory of one of his sons. Dionysius the Tyrant of 
 Sicily, and the Poet Sophocles, having heard that 
 they had won the bays for tragedies, died both 
 immediately ; and so did the Poet Philippides, 
 upon winning that for comedies. Zeuxis the 
 Painter, as before-mentioned, having drawn the 
 picture of an old woman very oddly, died with 
 laughing at it. Sinus, a Turkish general, upon 
 the recovery of his only son, whom he thought 
 lost; Leo the Tenth, upon taking Milan, which 
 he had passionately desired, died for joy. 
 
 Thus both these passions have great resemblance 
 in their excesses ; they equally transport a man be- 
 vond the bounds of reason ; the one by its agrees 
 ableness makes him forget himself, and the other 
 by its bitterness leads him to despair. Grief de- 
 stroys life, either by the violent agitation of the 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 73 
 
 spirits, or by their condensation, which, stopping 
 the passages, hinders breathing, from whence 
 follow suffocation and death. Pleasure and joy 
 produce the same effect by contrary causes, 
 namely, by too great a dilatation of the spirits, 
 which causes weakness, and that weakness death. 
 
 And since they may be both so fatal to you, 
 if you are not past that foolish age — when you 
 choose a mistress, let her be wise and good, that 
 she may know how to prevent your dying with 
 joy, and have too much compassion to suffer you 
 to die of grief, though we believe the last generally 
 the least fatal. 
 
 Quest, — What is Time? 
 
 Ans. — It is the duration of a creature, mea- 
 sured by the revolution of the heavenly bodies. 
 Duration, and that successive, because it is of a 
 creature, whereby, first, the present moment is 
 excluded, being only the term of time, not time 
 itself; and then it is implied that time is incompa- 
 tible with an uncreated being, who, as all sound 
 Philosophers and Divines have ever held, has no 
 succession, no parallax, or tropical conversion, 
 which we render, no variableness, nor shadow of 
 turning.'* By creature here, we mean all created 
 beings, the whole system or frame of visibles, 
 and even invisibles, which ever began to be; 
 time in general being the complex measure of 
 their duration, taken from end to end, and the 
 
74 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 best particular measure we have of this duration 
 being the repeated revolutions of tlie heavenly 
 bodies: so that, if there were any created beings 
 before this world was made, as it is probable there 
 were, at least Angels, we can in general apply suc- 
 cessive duration to their existence ; though it is 
 owned we cannot the measure of any heavenly or 
 earthly bodies actual revolution, because then no 
 such bodies ; though, like the Julian period, we 
 can set the watch a little backward^ and make 
 time intrude upon eternity in supposition, we 
 mean so, as to say there were so many actual du- 
 rations, so many instants passed from their crea- 
 tion to the creation of the world, as would have 
 made so many days or years greater or less than 
 any number given. 
 
 Quest, — Nothing is in all languages a noun 
 substantive : now a noun is the name of a thing, 
 that may be seen, felt, heard, or understood ; and 
 how can any part of that description agree to No- 
 thing ? I desire your serious answer herein, and 
 the definition of Nothing ; and opinion, whether 
 it may properly be called a noun substantive ? 
 
 Jns, — Nothing is 000,000,000,000,000, &c.; 
 wherein, it is a plain case, are included all things 
 that are necessary to a complete definition ; for 
 there is first its genius, which is ; and then its 
 difference, both essential 0, and accidental ; nay, 
 all the train of little tiny accidents that wait upon 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 75 
 
 the ancient family of the Nothings, clearly and 
 distinctly marshaled according to their respective 
 ranks and titles, as — — — ; and, lest others 
 of them should take it amiss for being neglected 
 or excluded, a long &c. is left for a back-door to 
 all the rest. 
 
 But, in order to answer this question, we must 
 now, like bad disputants, be forced to distinguish 
 after we have defined. 
 
 There are three sorts of nothings ; one nothing 
 which is something ; another nothing between no- 
 thing and something ; and a third nothing, which 
 is nothing. This may make people stare that are 
 no metaphysicians; but it is all as plain as a pike- 
 staff to one that has but read Suarez ; for, to be 
 yet more methodical, there is, in the first place, 
 your pur um nihil, or arrant nothing, a contradic- 
 tion, and absolute impossibility in nature ; a mon- 
 ster, one part of whom unbuilds another, as tran- 
 substantiation, a Jacobite's faith, courage, honour, 
 honesty, and twenty other nothings of the same 
 stamp. There is a second nothing, which is be- 
 tween a nothing and a something, what the old 
 jabberers call a nihil exist entice actualis, nothing 
 as to actual real existence, but what may exist ; 
 as a million of things, nothings we mean, that 
 are possible, are not future, and which, we hope and 
 have a strong guess, will never be present. But 
 though this nothing has but a very small portion, 
 of something in it, yet some it seems to have, at 
 
7^ THE ATHENIAN' ORACLE. 
 
 least to conception ; and there is, by Avicenna's 
 leave, a difference between the nihility of a possi- 
 bility and an impossibility. 
 
 There is further a nihil positionis, such a no- 
 thing as comes nearer to something than all the 
 rest, and may be reckoned just on the edge of 
 being; a nothing which puts or affirms nothing, 
 but either takes something away, as privation, 
 blindness in a man, &c. or only outwardly affects 
 it, as any extrinsical denomination. Some reckon 
 also a nothing of subsistence, by which they mean 
 accidents, of modes of being; but we think these 
 downright somethings, and that nothing has no- 
 thing to do, to pierce so far into the realms of 
 entity. After all, it seems to us, that there is 
 still lurking one old, great, generical nothing, 
 which includes all these, and yet may be consi- 
 dered as abstracted from them — a sort of idea 
 nothing, a being of reason or fancy, which we 
 must have in our minds, somehow or other, when 
 we discourse of nothing ; and which yet cannot 
 perhaps strictly and properly be comprehended 
 under any of the former heads. And yet less than 
 all these is the word Nothing, the mere shadow of 
 a shadow, for all its high pretensions to Latin, 
 Greek, and Hebrew ; and, for aught we know, 
 fifty languages more than ever in the Polyglott. 
 This sometimes expresses all the fore-mentioned 
 particular notions^ possible, impossible, privative, 
 &c. ; at others, only the general confused notion 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 77 
 
 of undeterminate nothing ; and sometimes again 
 it is taken for its own little self, the very tiny 
 word, the nihilum, first docked into nihil, and 
 then split into 9fil, not unlike our nothing into 
 nought, and so made less than nothing. 
 
 But how can Nothing be seen, felt, or heard, or 
 understood ? Oh, very easily. Did you never 
 yet see a countryman gaping up in the sky ? Go 
 to him, and ask him what he sees there; and per- 
 haps his answer will be, Nothing." Nay, select if 
 you can forty wise people, and desire them to look 
 up as well as he — they will all agree, they see " No- 
 thing." Tlien for feeling. Nothing may be a noun; 
 aye, and a noun substantive too, for all that; for 
 did you never put your hand in your pocket, and 
 feel Nothing there ? Then for hearing, there is no 
 manner of doubt on it ; for as long as we are sure 
 that an horrid stillness may invade the ears of us 
 mortals — it is a clear case, that, like a fat old gen- 
 tleman who steals many a hearty nap at church 
 against the pillars of the middle aile, it is possible 
 for a man to have his mouth open, and yet hear 
 Nothing. Or, if he should chance not to nod fair, 
 but try hard heads with his brother snorer, and 
 wake them both before the shrieking clerk did it; 
 yet, if the parson talk sense, they might understand 
 nothing of it. And so may nothing be seen, felt, 
 heard, and understood. Ergo, it is a noun. 
 
 Qw6».y^.— What is your opinion of the nature of 
 
78 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 plants ; as whether they are capable of pain, when 
 cat or broken, &c. ! 
 
 Ans, — We shall first consider their generation; 
 they have now for some thousand years lain un- 
 der the same scandal that insects have, viz, that 
 they are produced by equivocal generation. It 
 would be too tedious, only for comparison's sake, 
 to run over the old received opinions, that salt 
 holds the place of the masculine seed, and humi- 
 dity the feminine ; and by this means excrements 
 produce beetles, flies, worms, or other insects; 
 sweat and wine produce lice and fleas ; the slime 
 of marshes generate frogs, being very nitrous ; 
 boats of salt produce rats, which conceive others 
 by licking the salt ; bees come from oxen, hor- 
 nets from horses, scorpions from crabfish, the 
 marrow of a back-bone turns to a serpent, with a 
 hundred more such fabulous idle stories : for, by 
 the help of microscopes, we have discovered that 
 all animals and insects, however mean and despi- 
 cable, are produced from parents of their own spe- 
 cies, even to a gnat and a mite. Francisco Redi, 
 upon the innumerable trials that he made with 
 putrid flesh of all sorts, corrupted cheese, fruits, 
 herbs, and insects themselves, constantly found 
 that all these kinds of putrefaction only afforded a 
 nest and aliment for the young of those insects 
 that he admitted to come to them, and when he 
 sealed them up in glasses, vessels covered with 
 paper, fine lawn, &c. nothing was ever produced 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 79 
 
 even in the warm climate of Florence. Malpi- 
 ghius also has observed those tumours and excres- 
 cences of plants, leaves, &c. that yield flies and 
 worms, are first made by such insects which 
 wound the tender buds with a hollow trunk, 
 and deposit an egg in the hole with a sharp cor- 
 rosive liquor, which causes a swelling in the leaf, 
 and so shuts up the orifice. We need not add the 
 experiments of Lewenhoeck, and others, since 
 now this doctrine of equivocal generation is uni- 
 versally exploded. 
 
 Nothing, even so much as grass, is producible 
 on the earth without seed. 
 
 Malpighius shews, that the earth which has no 
 seed in itself can produce nothing at all. He 
 caused to be digged a deep pit, and took of the 
 earth of it, which he put into a glass, that he 
 might the more conveniently see whether it pro- 
 duced grass, or anything else ; this glass he co- 
 vered with fine lawn, several heights above one 
 another, to keep the smallest seed from falling 
 into it, as also that it might have the convenience 
 of the air; and, after having exposed this vessel to 
 the air for a long time, he found nothing at all to 
 grow in it ; but, having put some seeds into it, 
 they sprang up, and grew immediately. 
 
 If it be objected, that in London, after the 
 plague, grass grew in the streets, being not hin- 
 dered by treading upon it, and that all highways 
 spring up with grass when unfrequented — it is 
 
80 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 easily answered, that seeds of grass are easily car- 
 ried by the wind from one place to another ; but 
 besides, there is no need of such a supply, where 
 the roots of grass are left behind, which will 
 spring up when at liberty ; but in places where 
 there is neither root nor seed, as in the above ex- 
 periment, there will be nothing produced. 
 
 Thus the generation of plants, herbs, &c. is as 
 certainly equivocal as that of brutes and men, 
 viz. produced as one fire kindles another ; and 
 therefore no prerogative can be claimed by one 
 above another as to their oreneration. As to the 
 nutrition, increase, &c. of vegetables, I come to 
 consider them ; but we shall also examine their 
 organs, and what relation and similitude they bear 
 to those of brutes, and consequently to ours. Dr. 
 Basil is very positive, in his Kingdom of Vegetables, 
 that there is nothing in animals, but there is some 
 resemblance of it in plants, and for the most part, 
 they have the same organs with them. With him also 
 M. Malpighius agrees, who has so far considered, 
 and curiously examined their nature, that he offers 
 to shew in plants all the same parts which serve 
 to the divers functions of life in men and beasts — 
 such as are for reception of the air, for the use of 
 the plant, those which serve to the concoction and 
 digestion of the aliment, the circulation of nutri- 
 tive succus, the excretion of superfinities, &c. Mr. 
 Konig gives but a very lame definition of the soul of 
 vegetables ; however, he agrees with me, that this 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 8l 
 
 soul is the principle of their vegetation, and of 
 nutrition, increase, propagation, &c. since there 
 are no laws yet known of matter, that can cause 
 such circulations and motions as are in the succous, 
 nutritious, and other plants. He has very well 
 remarked, that they have not only the same or- 
 gans destined to the same uses, but that they re- 
 semble them in many respects. The same accidents 
 and the same revolutions happen to them in 
 common with animals. They increase, feed, are 
 vigorous, sicken and die. Nor can we be assured 
 that they have not thought, and are sensible of 
 pain and pleasure in the proper functions of their 
 nature ; but we have rather some very good rea- 
 sons to believe the affirmative. It is unquestion- 
 able, that not only in different species, but often 
 in the very same kind, there is a vast difference 
 as to the complexion and constitution of all crea- 
 tures ; those which most tenderly and delicately 
 bred, give their arteries the liberty of spreading 
 into extremely fine branches, and thereby become 
 extremely sensible of pain or pleasure. It is so 
 in the vegetative world ; some trees, plants, herbs, 
 &c. that are carefully manured and managed, are 
 much sooner blasted, than the wild mountainous 
 ones, which are continually exposed to the se- 
 verity of wind and weather; therefore, if we can 
 possibly produce such instances of the sensibility 
 of plants, we shall bid fair to prove it essential to 
 the whole ; only by accidents, severe usage, dif- 
 
 G 
 
^2 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ference of contexture, &c. it may not be so apparent 
 in all : and it is no argument that a thing is not, 
 because we cannot see or understand it. There is 
 a sensitive plant growing, as Scaliger and others 
 relate, in Zonolha, a part of Tartary, where the 
 inhabitants sow a sort of grain much like that of 
 our melons, but somewhat longer, from which 
 grows an herb, which they call Borrancetz, or a 
 lamb, for it is like one, having feet, horns, &c. it 
 grows to the earth by a root which enters at its navel, 
 and it eats all the grass about it, as far as it can 
 reach, and dies when it has no food. Anthony 
 Pegafet tells us of a tree, much like a mulberry, 
 which has leaves with little feet, that it uses, when 
 fallen off" the tree, to run away from those that 
 come near it. But Pliny is very positive as to 
 his balsam tree, which trembles when the axe is 
 near it. And Scaliger, a more credible author, if 
 the two last be suspected, tells us of the Arbor 
 pudica, which, upon the approach of a man, or 
 other animal, contracts its boughs, and extends 
 them again upon their departure, which is also 
 observable in the sponge. There is such a unifor- 
 mity in nature between some plants and animals, 
 that there is scarcely any difference but in local 
 motion; which yet is found in some, as the 
 gourd and cucumber, which follow the neigh- 
 bouring water, and shape their fruit in length to 
 reach it. 
 
 The Herba Viva, of Arosta, folds up its leaves 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 83 
 
 and flowers when touched ; tulips do the same in 
 the evening ; the cadine thistle, called the pea- 
 sant' s-almanack, folds up its flowers when a tem- 
 pest is at hand ; and innumerable more such in- 
 stances there are, which would persuade us that 
 all vegetatives have sense as well as life, but 
 rucro-edness of the contexture and frame of most 
 makes it imperceptible to us. We might carry 
 the matter yet higher, but yet with a question 
 which we leave to the ingenious, whether, since 
 they have sense, some of them at least apparently, 
 may not be said to make rational inferences, and 
 be guided by a soul capable of abstract specu- 
 lations ? 
 
 Quest, — What are we to understand by the 
 Centaurs and Lapithae, and were there ever any 
 such monsters as Virgil represents, or that the 
 story proceeded from any sort of men ? 
 
 j4ns, — Under the reign of Ixion, king of Thes- 
 saJy, a company of bulls which fed upon Pelion 
 run mad, by which means the mountain was in- 
 accessible. They also descended into the inha- 
 bited parts, and ruined the trees and fruits, and 
 killed the larger cattle. Upon which Ixion de- 
 clared that he would give a great reward to any 
 persons that would destroy these bulls. Riding on 
 horseback was never practised before that time. 
 But some young men that lived in a village at the 
 
84 
 
 TMB ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 foot of Pelion, had attempted successfully to train 
 horses fit to back, and had accustomed themselves 
 to that exercise. These youths undertook to clear 
 the mountain of the bulls, which they effected 
 by pursuing them on horseback, and piercing 
 them with their arrows as they fled ; but when 
 the bulls stopped or followed them, they retired 
 without receiving any hurt. And from hence 
 they were called Centaurs, viz, Pierce-Bulls. 
 Having received of Ixion the recom pence he pro- 
 mised them, they became fierce and proud, and 
 committed a thousand insolences in Thessaly, not 
 sparing even Ixion himself, who dwelt in the 
 town of Larissa. The inhabitants of the country 
 were at that time called Lapithae, who one day 
 invited the Centaurs to a feast which they cele- 
 brated; but the Centaurs abused their civility; 
 for, having drunk too much, they took the Lapi- 
 thites* women from them, set them on their horses 
 and carried them away. This violence kindled 
 a long war between the Centaurs and the Lapi- 
 thae ; the Centaurs in the night came down into 
 the plain, and laid ambushes for their enemies; 
 and as soon as day appeared retired again into 
 the mountain with whatever they had taken. 
 Thus, as they retired, the Lapithae saw only the 
 hinder parts of their horses, and the men's heads ; 
 so that they seemed but as one animal, from 
 whence they believed the Centaurs had become 
 half men and half horses, and that they were sons 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHT. 
 
 85 
 
 of clouds, because the village where they dwelt 
 was called Nophelus, which signified a cloud. 
 
 Quest.— How, out of matter which appears 
 plainly homogeneous, should be formed animals 
 which consist of so many and so different parts. 
 Some think this is done by the fermentation of 
 the seed ; but it seems not possible that infinite 
 variety of parts, so aptly disposed, should arise 
 from thence. Others assert that the first seed 
 of the several animals created by God did for- 
 merly include all seeds in itself : but this also 
 seems very difficult to conceive, because of the 
 infinite number of animals which have been 
 formed from the creation of the world ; though 
 to this they say, that the parts of matter are 
 infinite. Others are of opinion that all the 
 seeds of the several animals were in the beginning 
 of the world created by God, and that we take 
 them in daily. Pray, which of these opinions 
 esteem most probable ? 
 
 y4ns. — Whatever matter may be in itself and 
 its essence, it is certain that it: appears to our senses 
 as various and heterogeneous : however, the mo- 
 dus of the formation of animals is still unknown. 
 The Inspired Writers express themselves here, 
 at least, according to the capacity of the learned 
 as well as the vulgar, when they acknowledge 
 the ignorance of mankind — how the bones do 
 
S6 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 at first grow in their embryotic state — and that 
 we are awfully and wonderfully made, when we 
 are fashioned secretly in the lower parts of the 
 earth. However, it seems not probable that 
 mere fermentation should produce this, or action 
 or re-action of one part of matter upon another, 
 though we grant it may have a strange and unac- 
 countable power in the alteration of matter purely 
 insensible or inanimate. This fermentation may 
 dilate, and extremely alter the parts of animate 
 matter, when they are already delineated and 
 marked out by the finger of the Almighty ; but 
 still, matter being a principle purely passive and 
 irrational, we cannot conceive how it should 
 become an animal, any more than a world, it 
 being much more easy for stones to leap out of a 
 quarry, and make an Escurial, without asking 
 the architect's leave, or calling for the mason, with 
 his mortar and trowel, to assist them. Nor 
 seems it necessary, or rational, that the first seed 
 of every creature should formerly include all those 
 seeds that should be afterwards produced from it; 
 since it is, we think, suflficient that it should 
 potentially include them, as Abraham did Levi, 
 or as one kernel all those indeterminate kernels 
 that may be thence afterwards raised, the first 
 seeds being doubtless of the same nature with 
 those that now exist, after so many thousand 
 years, the order of time making only an accidental 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 8/ 
 
 difference; which if we do not grant, we must 
 run into this absurdity, that every thing does not 
 produce its hke, a bird a bird, or a horse a horse, 
 which would be to till all the world witli mon- 
 sters, which Nature does so much abhor. But 
 every seed, or kernel, for example, does now 
 actually and formally contain all the seeds or 
 kernels which may be at any time afterwards 
 produced from them. A kernel has indeed, as 
 we have found b}^ microscopes, a pretty fair and 
 distinct delineation of the tree and branches into 
 which it may be afterwards formed, by the fer- 
 mentation of its parts and addition of suitable 
 matter; as in the tree are potentially contained 
 all the thousands and millions of kernels, and so 
 of trees, that shall or may be thence raised after- 
 wards : and so we are apt to believe it must be 
 in the first animals — whereas the finest glasses, 
 which are brought to an almost incredible per- 
 fection, cannot discover actual seeds in seeds, or 
 kernels in kernels ; though, if there were any 
 such thing as an actual least atom, they might, 
 one would think, be discovered by them, since 
 they have shown us not only seeds, but even new 
 animals, in many parts of matter where we 
 never suspected them, and even in some of the 
 smallest animals themselves, whereof our naked 
 sight can take no cognizance. As for the parts of 
 matter, be they how they will, finite or infinite, 
 it makes no great alteration ; for, if these parts are 
 
88 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 not all seminal, we are no nearer. Nay, at best, 
 an absurdity seems to be the consequence of this 
 hypothesis : because, if those parts are infinite, 
 and include all successive generations of animals, 
 it would follow that the number of animals too 
 should be infinite — nay, the number of any in- 
 sect, any animal ; and instead of one, we should 
 have a thousand infinites ; and it would be 
 strange too if they should not, some of them, be 
 greater or less than one another. 
 
 For that pleasant fancy, that all the seeds of 
 animals were distinctly created at the beginning 
 of time and things, that they are mingled with 
 all the elements, that we take them in with our 
 food, and the he and she atoms either fly off 
 or stay as they like their lodgings ; we hope 
 there is no need of being serious to confute 
 it. And we may ask of this, as well as the 
 former hypothesis, what need of them, when the 
 work may be done without them ? The kernel, 
 as before, contains the tree ; the tree a thousand 
 other fruits, and ten thousand kernels : the first 
 animal several others ; and as many of them as 
 Nature can dispose of, and provide fit nourishment 
 for, are produced into what we may call actual 
 being, in comparison to what they before en- 
 joyed. If it be asked, whether these imperfect 
 creatures have all distinct souls while lurking yet 
 in their parent? we answer, that there is no need 
 of it ; they are not yet so much as well defined 
 
HISTORY AND FHILOSOPMY. 89 
 
 bodies, but rather parts of the parent. There 
 is required yet a great deal more of the chemistry 
 and mechanism of Nature, and that in both sexes, 
 to make one or more of these insect beings, the 
 offspring of man, capable of receiving a rational 
 soul ; but when that capacity comes, in proper 
 time, to infuse it, though when that is, and 
 wherein it consists, perhaps He only knows, who 
 is the Father of spirits, as well as the Former of 
 the universe. 
 
 Quest, — ^Why is the first of August called 
 Lammas Day, above all days of the year ? 
 
 u4ns, — At that time the popish priests began to 
 make masses, that the lambs and sheep might 
 not die all that season by the cold after shearing : 
 therefore it was called Lammas Day. 
 
 Quest, — Does Sound proceed from the striking 
 of two bodies one against another, or from the 
 air which is broken thereon ? 
 
 Ans, — The striking of two hard bodies, one 
 against another, is indeed the efficient cause of 
 sound, but not the formal; for sound is made, 
 not in the beating of those two bodies alone, but 
 by the collision and breaking of the air between 
 them. As for example, sound is not in the bell 
 that sounds, but in the air beaten and broken 
 between the clapper and the bell. 
 
go THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — Why cannot we endure Thirst so long 
 or so well as Hunger ? 
 
 j4ns. — Because Hunger is but a simple appe- 
 tite of food, but Thirst is a double appetite; 
 namely, of food and refreshment ; so that two 
 defects are more difficult to be supported than 
 one. And therefore, also, we receive much 
 more pleasure in drinking when we thirst, than 
 in eating when we hunger ; and as the pleasure 
 is greater in the enjoyment, so is the displeasure 
 and inconvenience in the want thereof. More- 
 over^ drink suddenly penetrates the body and all 
 the parts thereof ; but food insinuates by little 
 and little, and after many concoctions it changes. 
 
 Quest. — Wherefore do such as are made 
 afraid look pale and wan ? 
 
 ^ns. — Because Nature withdraws the blood 
 from the exterior to the more noble and inward 
 parts of the body; even as such who have lost 
 the power and command of the field, or cam- 
 paign, retreat to their garrisons and castles, the 
 best fenced and fortified ; for it is the blood that 
 causes that blushing colour in the face, which, 
 being withdrawn, paleness ensues. 
 
 Quest. — Why do flowers flourish and open in 
 the morning, and are contracted and shut at 
 night ? 
 
 j4ns, — It is because the nature of heat is to 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 91 
 
 dilate and open, and of cold to contract and shut; 
 so that the sun, by its heat, makes them open 
 and flourish ; and the sun being set, they are 
 contracted and shut by the cold of the following 
 night. 
 
 Quest. Is it the custom of remote countries to 
 testify their sorrow for the loss of friends by wear- 
 ing of different apparel ? And if it is, do they 
 put on black, or any other colour? And what 
 reason can be given for our preferring black to 
 all other colours ? 
 
 j4m. — Black is the most fit emblem of sorrow 
 and grief. As death is the privation of life, 
 and black a privation of light, it is very probable 
 this colour has been chosen to denote sadness, 
 upon that account. When black appears in the 
 body, it is generally a sign of death, because it is 
 produced by mortification and extinction of the 
 spirits; a living body being full of vivacity and 
 brightness, whereas a dead one is gloomy and 
 dismal ; for at the same moment the soul leaves 
 the body, a dark shade seems, as it were, to be 
 drawn over it — so that this colour is not only a 
 proper representation of grief and sadness, but 
 also of death, which is the cause of it, and has 
 been preferred for mourning by most people 
 throughout Europe. Yet the Syrians, Cappa- 
 docians, and Armenians, use sky-colour, to de- 
 note the place they wish the dead to be in j 
 
9« THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 namely, in tlie heavens ; — the Egyptians yellow, 
 to shew that, as herbs being faded become yel- 
 low, so death is the end of human hope; — and 
 the Ethiopians grey, because it resembles the 
 colour of the earth, which receives the dead. 
 
 Quest. — Whether the antients were as well 
 skilled in shipping and navigation as the moderns 
 are ? 
 
 Ans. — Athenaeus tells us, that Ptolemy Philo- 
 pater had a galley built for pomp and pleasure, 
 with a double prow and forty ranks or orders of 
 rowers. And Plutarch asserts, that Demetrius 
 equipped several ships of war, which had in each 
 of them four thousand rowers : this for their 
 bulk. Then N. Whitsen, who wrote on naval 
 architecture in High Dutch, whose book was 
 printed at Amsterdam in 1671, says, the ships of 
 the antients were much firmer and more durable 
 than ours. He tells us of a ship found in the 
 time of Pope Pius H. in the Numidian sea, 
 twelve fathoms under water, thirty feet long, and 
 proportionably broad, of Cyprus and Larix wood, 
 so hard that it would scarcely burn or cut, and 
 not in the least any where rotten or perished ; 
 and the whole ship so close, that not a drop of 
 water was soaked into the under rooms. But 
 whatever we think of this story, or of the vast 
 bulk assigned to some ships ; of this we are cer- 
 tain, that they antiently had some very large 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHT. 9J 
 
 vessels. Authentic histories mention Hiero the 
 Syracusan's ship, which, by the description Mr. 
 Evelyn gives us out of old writers, *' that it 
 was among those which had been taken from 
 mountains, or floating islands, and that it was a 
 moving palace, adorned with groves of trees, both 
 for fruit and shade by the description given of 
 it, it seems to be the same which the miraculous 
 Archimedes, as his history tells us, by his mathe- 
 matical engines lifted up in the air, equal and 
 even, as a trial of his art, when Hiero and all his 
 courtiers were at dinner in it. Nor were they 
 formerly wanting in stratagems, or ingenious de- 
 vices, to murder one another ; for Minus is said to 
 be the first inventor of the sea-fights, who lived 
 not long after the Flood ; and that not only the 
 use of flags, but even of false colours, fire-ships, 
 stink-pots, and snake-pots, were known to the 
 antients, as we learn in Fronto on Stratagems. 
 Then for the number of their vessels. Homer tells 
 us, there were a thousand ships against Troy ; 
 and the Roman histories, and Polybius, inform 
 us, the Roman and Carthaginian Armadas have 
 met at sea, with more than a hundred thousand 
 men of a side ; and at other times, forty thousand 
 have been killed of a side in one battle. But, 
 notwithstanding all this, it is certain that we excel 
 the antients, not only in other parts of naviga- 
 tion, but also in that of shipping, our vessels be- 
 
94 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ing, if not so great as some of those are repre- 
 sented, yet much more serviceable. 
 
 Quest. — To whom do we owe the invention of 
 Glass, what is it composed of, and to what per- 
 fection may it be brought ? 
 
 Am. — Glass is found in all bodies capable of 
 calcination and vitrification ; but chiefly in nitre, 
 sand, shells, certain stones, wood, and plants ; 
 from which it is drawn differing in beauty accord- 
 ing to the matter whence it is extracted by 
 means of a most violent fire, which resolving the 
 compound, consumes all its parts except that vi- 
 trious matter, which is proof against its violence. 
 We owe its invention to certain merchants of 
 nitre, who, having landed in Phoenicia, and made 
 a fire on the sand, used some clods of their nitre, 
 as a trevet for their kettle ; and the heat of the fire 
 melting the sand and nitre into glass, they took 
 notice of it, and published the invention. After- 
 wards moulds were found out, wherein to cast it 
 into all sorts of figures ; pipes or tubes to ram it 
 in ; others to blow it, and give it all sorts of co- 
 lours, which almost miraculously arise from the 
 very substance of the glass, without other mix- 
 ture, only by the wind and blast managed accord- 
 ing to the rules of art ; as also mills to calcine 
 and pulverize gravel, stones, or sand. 
 
 Glass wants but one thing; and that is, the re- 
 moving of its brittleness or fragility ; were it not 
 
HISTORY AND FHILOSOPHr. 
 
 for that, it would be the most precious thing in 
 the world. The eye, the noblest part of man, 
 symbolizes with glass by that crystalline humour 
 whereon the point of the visual ray terminates. 
 But as all things in the world are no sooner ar- 
 rived to their point of perfection, but they are 
 most subject to be corrupted, so fragility is inse- 
 parable from glass, arrived to that degree. As 
 gold is the masterpiece of Nature, so is glass of 
 Art, which cannot produce any thing more noble. 
 It is the fairest and cleanest of all bodies, as par- 
 taking the most of light, the noblest and divinest 
 of all sublunary bodies, to which alone it affords 
 passage through its imperceptible pores, being by 
 that means the most useful and delightful piece of 
 architecture ; the beauties and properties whereof 
 cannot be seen but by light, half of which lattices 
 intercept, but glass communicates intire; serving, 
 moreover, to correct the defects of sight in old 
 men, by spectacles; and of the countenance in 
 looking-glasses, by means of which man perfectly 
 knows himself. But to judge how glass may be 
 malleable, we must know that it is composed of 
 two substances, — the one earthy, the other gum- 
 mous, serving for cement to unite those dry parts, 
 whose connexion in any body whatsoever is im- 
 possible, but by acrious humidity, without which 
 the earthy parts would fall to dust. Now to re- 
 medy the brittleness of glass, it were expedient 
 to find out two matters whose union might be 
 
Pff THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 closer, or to link them together better by some 
 more humid oleaginous matter than the ordinary, 
 which would no more hinder the transparencies 
 of glass than it doth that of talc, which is wholly 
 oleaginous in its substance, and never less dia- 
 phonous and flexible. The fire likewise, being 
 very sharp and violent, consumes almost all the 
 moisture of glass, and makes it more brittle, for 
 which reason it ought to be moderated. 
 
 Quest, — Which is the more noble, Man or 
 Woman ? 
 
 Am. — One of the greatest difficulties arising 
 in the discussion of this controversy is, that there 
 is no judge to be found who is not interested in 
 the cause. It must not, therefore, be thought 
 that the determination of this point is of little im- 
 portance : for we should have none of those dis- 
 mal feuds, both in high and mean families, did 
 not women go about to command over men in- 
 stead of obeying them. Now whether the busi- 
 ness be fairly arbitrated, or whether it be yielded 
 out of complacency to that sex which loves to be 
 commended, and out of pity to its weakness ; 
 upon examination of the reasons of either side, it 
 is safer to suspend one's judgment, that we may 
 neither betray our own sex, nor incense the 
 other, — which, it is said, is not so easily recon- 
 ciled as it is offended. 
 
 Others are of opinion, that the courtship and 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 suing which men make to women is a tacit but 
 sufficient argument of the esteem wherein they 
 hold them ; for we do not seek after a thing we 
 undervalue. But the excellence of women above 
 men is chiefly argued from the place, the matter, 
 and the order, of their creation ; for man had not 
 the advantage to be created in the terrestrial para- 
 dise, as woman had, who also was produced out 
 of a more noble matter than he — he being made 
 out of the dead earth, and she out of living orga- 
 nized matter. As for the order of the creation ;, 
 God, in the production of mixed bodies, began 
 with the meanest things, and ended with the 
 noblest. He first made the earth and the sea, 
 then plants, fishes, and the other brutes ; after 
 which, he created man, as the master-piece of all 
 things ; and lastly woman, as the master-piece of 
 Nature, and the model of all perfections, mistress 
 of man, sttonger than he, as the Scripture saith, 
 and, consequently, mistress of all the creatures. 
 Moreover, there is no sort of good v^hich is not 
 found in a higher degree in woman than in man. 
 As for the goods of the body, the chief of which 
 is beauty, men have therein utterly lost the cause ; 
 which they will be as little able to carry in refer- 
 ence to the goods of the mind, the same being 
 found more vigorous, and attaining sooner to ma- 
 turity in women. They commonly perform more 
 actions of virtue than men ; and indeed they have 
 more need of them, to withstand the assaults made 
 
 H 
 
58 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Upon their chastity, which is not so often found 
 in the other sex. They are acknowledged by aH 
 to be more merciful, faithful, and charitable than 
 men ; so devout, that the Church terms them by 
 no other name ; and so patient, that God ha? 
 judged them alone worthy to carry their unborn 
 children nine months; no doubt, because men 
 had not virtue and resolution enough for that 
 office. In short, there is no science or art in 
 v'hich women have not excelled ; witness the two 
 virgins De Roches and De Gournai, the Vis- 
 countess of Auchi, and Juniana IVJorel, a sister 
 Jacobin of Avignon, who understood fourteen 
 languages, and at Lyons maintained Theses in 
 philosophy at the age of thirteen. So also of old, 
 Diotima and Aspasia were so excellent in philoso- 
 phy, that Socrates was not ashamed to go to their 
 public lectures. Hipalia, of Alexandria, the wife 
 of Isidore the philosopher; in oratory, Tullia, 
 the daughter, and doubly heiress of Cicero ; and 
 Cornelia, who taught eloquence to the Gracchi, 
 her sons ; in poetry, Sappho, the inventress of 
 Sapphic verses ; and the three Corynnas, of whom 
 the first overcame Pindar, the prince of Lyric 
 poets, five times; and in painting, Irene and Ca- 
 lypso, in the days of Varro. If there have been 
 prophets, there have also been prophetesses and si- 
 byls; yea, they were virgins of old, that rendered 
 the oracles at Delphos. In brief, if there have been 
 warlike men, there have been Amazons too^ who 
 
» 
 
 HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 99 
 
 have shewn that valour is not solely to be found 
 in men. And there have been maidens v;ho 
 have fought very courageously, whose sex was 
 not known till they were slain in battle. But 
 these feminine virtues are not so much celebrated 
 as those of men, by reason of the envy which they 
 bear to the sex, having subjected the same to such 
 a pass that they are enforced to support all our 
 defects. Though, indeed, women may say 
 to men, as a lion did to a man who shewed him 
 the picture of a man killing a lion — " if lions," said 
 he, " were addicted to painting, he would see more 
 men killed by lions than lions by men — if wo- 
 men had had the making of laws and histories, 
 you would see more virtues exercised by women 
 than by men. But, though it will be said that 
 only men give their opinion of this matter, yet 
 God himself has passed a decree upon them in 
 these w^ords, " The woman shall be subject to the 
 man." And it is to no purpose to say, that it was 
 otherwise before the first sin, and that subjection 
 was imposed on the woman for a punishment ; 
 seeing the punishment of the serpent, that he 
 should creep upon the earth, does not presuppose 
 that he caused man to sin by the means of his 
 wife ; but indeed God converted that into a pe- 
 nalty which before was natural to him. The 
 same ought to be said concerning the woman, who 
 \vas no less subject to the man before than after 
 liissin. Moreover, after God had taken the wo- 
 
 H S 
 
ICO 
 
 THE AlilEMAN ORACLE. 
 
 Twan out of Adam's side, whence, they say, it liap- 
 pens that their heads are so hard, he did not say 
 ?he was good, as he had pronounced all the rest 
 of his creatures. And to get Adam to marry her, 
 there was no other expedient found but to cast 
 him into a sleep; no doubt because, had he been 
 awake, he wouUl have been much puzzled to re- 
 solve upon it. So that they who, considering on 
 one side the usefulness of that sex for the preser- 
 vation of the species of men, and on the other 
 Ihe mischiefs wliereof it is the cause, have not ill 
 determined, when they termed woman a necessary 
 evil; to which men are addicted, by natural in- 
 stinct, for the general good, and to the prejudice 
 cf the particular, just as water ascends upwards, 
 contrary to its own nature, for the eschewing of 
 vacuity. Woman is an imperfect animal, whom 
 Plato questioned whether he should not rank 
 among the irrational, and whom Aristotle terms 
 a monster." They who treat her most gently style 
 her a simple error of Nature. Now, if \n some 
 species of animals the females have the advantage 
 above males, as tigresses, lionesses, and she- 
 wolves, it is in fierceness; and therein we also 
 yield to women. But what more competent judge 
 amongst men can they fi^d than Solomon, who 
 tri^d so many, and enquires, who can find a 
 wise woman ?" and who, after he had compared 
 them to the bottomless pit, concludes, that all 
 wickedness is supportable, provided it be not the 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPm^ 
 
 101 
 
 wickedness of a woman; yea, that the wickedness 
 of a man is better than the goodness of a woman. 
 
 Lastly, the middle opinion is, that every thing 
 is esteemed according to its author, structure, 
 and composition, the means it makes use of, the 
 manner how it emplo3^s the same, and its end. 
 Now, man and woman having the same author, 
 Ciod, and being composed ahuost of the same 
 parts, it remains to inquire v^hat means both the 
 one and the other make use of for attaining their 
 end, which is happiness. It is certain that the being 
 cither man or woman makes neitherof them goodor 
 bad, handsome or deformed, nobie or infamous, 
 happy or unhappy. There are found of both 
 sorts in each sex : - - as, to begin in Paradise, the 
 eleven thousand virgins alone shew that the femi- 
 nine sex has as good a share therein as men. In 
 thrones, Semiramis, Thomiris, many queens and 
 empresses, have manifested that women as well 
 know how to command as men ; Judith, cutting 
 off the head of Holofernes ; and the maid of Or- 
 leans, having shown that men alone were not co- 
 rageous, and fit for martial achievements. In 
 brief, there is no kind of performances in which 
 examples are not to be found both of men and 
 women who have acquitted themselves well 
 therein. In cpconomy, or the management of a 
 family, if some men are masters, there are found 
 women too, who, having the supremacy, perform 
 so well that the men cannot complain. Where- 
 
THE ATHEMAN ORACLE. 
 
 fore they who seek the cause of the nobleness or 
 abjectness of man and woman in the sex, seeki t 
 where it is not. It is not the being a man, or a 
 woman, that makes noble or ignoble ; — it is the 
 being an excellent man, or an excellent woman: 
 for, as they are mistaken who impute some vice 
 or virtue to a whole province, because to be vi- 
 cious or virtuous are personal things ; the same 
 ought to be said concerning man or woman, who 
 are citizens of the whole world ; — either of whom 
 taken in general has nothing in them but what is 
 very decorous, good, and perfect, and, conse- 
 quently, very noble, as proceeding from an Author 
 who communicated to them what perfection and 
 nobleness were respectively requisite. If there be 
 any defect, it proceeds from the individual per- 
 son, and ought no more to be attributed to tlie 
 sex than to the species. 
 
 Quest. — Whether Truth is always to he 
 spoken ? 
 
 y^ns. — Truth being a moral duty, it much im- 
 ports the interest of a government that it be ob- 
 served and kept inviolably, not only in contracts 
 and public actions, but also in private discourses. 
 And it is our judgment that truth always should 
 be spoken, although it be to one's damage. 
 
 But some say, truth is not always to be spoken. 
 This Nature teaches us, while she discovers^to us 
 pnly the surface of the earth, but has hid alj the 
 
MISTOHY AND PHILOSOPHY. 103 
 
 treasures of it, as all the parts of man, especially 
 tlie more noble, are concealed under the skin. 
 That which vilifies mysteries is the publishing of 
 them, called profanation ; that which hinders the 
 effect of state counsels, whereof secrecy is the 
 soul, is the letting of them be discovered, which 
 is treason ; that which takes away the credit from 
 all arts and professions is the rendering them com- 
 mon ; and phj^sic, amongst others, knows the ad- 
 vantage of concealment, wdiile the welfare of the 
 patient many times depends upon his ignorance. 
 Would you see what difFerencR- there is between a 
 wise man and a fool, a civil man and a clown : 
 it does not consist in knowledge, for they often 
 have the same thoughts and inclinations ; but the 
 fool speaks all that he thinks, the wise man does 
 not; as the clown will declare by gesture, and, if 
 he can, do every thing that comes into his ftmcy ; 
 but the better-bred man uses restraint upon him- 
 self. The comedian, therefore, wanted not reason 
 to say, that truth begets hatred ; and the Scrip- 
 ture teaches us that the dissimulation of the wise 
 Egyptian women to Pharaoh, when they were 
 commanded to murder the Hebrew children at 
 the birth, was approved. There is great differ- 
 ence between speaking falsehood, and not speak- 
 ing always the truth which is expected from us ; 
 the former being vicious, the other not. WhencJe 
 Athanasius being asked by his pursuers whether 
 he had seen Athanasius, told them " he went that 
 
104 
 
 THE ATHEMAN ORACLE. 
 
 way a little time since but did not tell them that 
 himself was the person. And St. Francis being 
 asked if he saw a robber pass by, shewed his 
 sleeve, and said, " that he did not pass that way.'* 
 As only weak and distempered eyes are unable 
 to bear the light of the sun, so only weak and 
 sickly minds cannot suffer the lustre of truth. 
 All men are obliged to speak it, but particularly 
 that which is dictated from God's mouth ; and we 
 ought rather to choose martyrdom than renounce 
 the belief of it. Less ought they to conceal it who 
 are bound to it by their condition as preachers 
 and witnesses, provided they have regard to place, 
 time, and persons, without which circumstances 
 it is unacceptable and absurd. Yet in two cases 
 particularly the not telling of truth may be dis- 
 pensed with : When the safety of the Prince, 
 or good of the State, is concerned, for which 
 Plato, in his Commonw^ealth, says, it is lawful to 
 lie sometimes; and the Angel Raphael told Tobias 
 "that it is good to hide the secrets of Kings." And 
 when our life is concerned, or that of our father, 
 mother, and kindred, against whom, although we 
 know them guilty of a crime, we are not obliged 
 to declare it ; provided nevertheless that it be 
 with the respect due to the magistrate, and that 
 we beware of speaking lies whilst we intend only 
 to decline discovery of the truth. It is the opi- 
 nion of the Civilians that a father cannot be con- 
 gtraiued to bear witness against his son, nor a son 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 against his father, except in the case of high 
 treason. 
 
 These three things must not he confounded — to 
 lie, to speak or tell a he, and to do or act one. 
 To he, is to go against our own meaning; as when 
 I know a thing, and not only conceal it, but 
 speak the contrary. This action, according to 
 some, is always evil, as it is never lawful to do 
 evil that good may come of it. According to 
 others, it is qualified according to the diversity of 
 its end: for he wiio tells a he to save a traveller''^ 
 life, who is pursued by thieves, seems to do bet- 
 ter than if he exposed himself to their cruelty by 
 his discovery. The physician who dissembles to 
 bis patient the danger of his disease, and thinks 
 itenough to acquaint his domestics, does better than 
 if he cast him into despair by a dismal prognosti- 
 cation ; and when he cheers him up in suitable 
 time and place by some pleasant made story, 
 what he speaks can scarcely be reckoned amongst 
 tdle words. But he who lies for his profit, as 
 many tradesmen do, sins proportionably to the 
 deceit which he thereby causes ; but he is most 
 culpable who lies to the magistrates. One mav 
 tell or speak a lie without lying ; namely, when 
 one speaks a false thing conceiving it to be true. 
 To do or speak a lie, is to lead a life contrary to 
 one's profession; as he who preaches well and 
 lives ill. Whence we conclude, tlmt liiany pre^ 
 
106* 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE, 
 
 cautions are requisite to lie without committing 
 an offence ; that a lie is to be spoken as little as 
 possible, and never to be done or acted at all. 
 
 Quest. — Which is better, to go to bed late, 
 and rise betimes in the morning ; or to do the con- 
 trary ? 
 
 Ans. — All the great and most refined spirits, 
 and even most men who have more than an ordi- 
 nary burthen of affairs, generally go to bed late, 
 and rise late, whereof several reasons may be as- 
 signed ; as the affairs themselves, which insen- 
 sibly steal away the time from us; the time slid- 
 ing away faster from him who takes a pleasure in 
 the doing of a thing, than it does from another 
 who is in some trouble of mind or body; whence 
 a tedious tale and a bad book are always thought 
 too long. They therefore are to be thought the 
 happiest, who, if they had their own wills, would 
 o-o to bed latest ; not only for that reason whibh 
 made a certain king say, that he would be king as 
 long as he could ; inasmuch as, when he slept, 
 there was no difference between him and the 
 meanest of his subjects; but also for this, that 
 night surprizing them before they had done all 
 their business, the supper must be the later, and 
 consequently the going to bed. The second rea- 
 son is, that there ought to be a correspondence 
 between the tranquillity of the mind and the body; 
 
HlSrORV AND PHILOSOPHY. 10* 
 
 it fcweing necessary that he who would take a good 
 sleep should not he subject to any disturbance of 
 mind ; and that, rest being procured only by that 
 order which every one has taken in his affairs, it 
 is to be imagined that the later a man goes to 
 bed the more business he has di.^patched, and 
 eonsequenily there remains less to be done. Upor. 
 this ground it is, that the suppers of men of busi- 
 rsss are accounted the most quiet; for, having 
 spent the whole day in trade, they then enjoy 
 greater serenity. In the third j)lace, a man should 
 not go to bed till digestion be pretty well ad- 
 vanced ; from the want or slowness w^iereof, hi- 
 deous dreams, crudities, and apoplexies, pro- 
 ceed. Now this digestion is so much the more 
 advanced, the later a man goes to bed. Fourthly, 
 that custom is the best, from which it is in a 
 .fDan's power most easily to wean himself, and in 
 the change whereof he w ill be subject to the least 
 inconvenience. Now he who has contracted a 
 habit of going to bed late, will imd it a less incon- 
 venience to go to bed betimes, that so he may rise 
 betimes, or upon some other motive, than he 
 shall to sit up late who has accustomed himself to 
 go to bed betimes ; for he will be sleepy and unfit 
 for doing anything as soon as his bed-time i3 come. 
 Fifthly, Hippocrates would not have a man en- 
 slave himself to an over-strict course of lifV, a« 
 such reguIar_persons find it the greater difficulty 
 
108 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE, 
 
 to support the miscarriages which oftentimes 
 cannot be avoided in the ordinary course of life. 
 Now those who go to bed betimes are com- 
 monly more regular in the hours of supper, and 
 all the other actions of the day ; upon the exact 
 observance whereof that of their bedtime depends. 
 Now it is obvious to any, who consider the differ- 
 ence of professions, that there are but few that 
 leave a man liberty to observe so exact a rule as 
 this ; so that being sometimes necessitated to 
 make a breach of the rule of going to bed betimes, 
 they must receive a far greater inconvenience from 
 the neglect of it, than they ordinarily do who go 
 to bed late. Sixthl}^, the same reason obliges 
 phlegmatic persons, and such as are subject to 
 catarrhs, to content themselves with little sleep, 
 for their humidity, joined with that of sleep ; 
 augments their diseases; besides that sleeping, 
 which moistens and cools, is not so well pro- 
 cured in that part of the day which is most cool 
 and moist, that is, from nine at night till three in 
 the morning, but rather towards the morning, at 
 which time the blood begins to abate its heat, and 
 dilates itself till ten in the morning, as all will 
 acknowledge who are subject to the megrims, 
 who find very great ease by morning-sleep, which 
 accordingly is found to be the most delightful. 
 P^Ioreover those who rise too early in the morning 
 are subject to head-ache in the afternoon, and 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 10.9 
 
 more easily moved with anger all the rest of the 
 day; to effect which, the consideration of the 
 ternperainent does very much conduce. The 
 greater part of men being subject to choler, and 
 the coolness and moisture of the night correcting 
 that hot and dry distemper, it is the more conve- 
 nient that sleep should be in the day-time. 
 
 But it is argued by some^ that the restoration 
 of the spirits obliges the animal to sleep, which 
 ought to continue at least for such a space of time 
 as amounts to the third part of that which a man 
 has been awake, and should never exceed the one 
 half of it. But the time when we should begin or 
 end our sleep being left to our own discretion, it 
 is requisite we should accommodate ourselves to 
 the order of nature, which has appointed the day 
 to labour, and the night to rest in. Nay, it is 
 also the advice of Hippocrates, Galen, and othet' 
 physicians, who think it not enough to direct rest 
 in the night, and waking in the day, but alsc 
 conceive very great hopes of those who in sick- 
 ness are regular therein. Add to this, that dark- 
 ness, silence, and the coolness of the night, are fit 
 to recruit the spirits, and promote their retiremeRl 
 within ; whereas light, noise, and heat of the day^ 
 are more proper to occasion their egress for the 
 exercise of actions; which granted, he who ob- 
 serves not this rule, charges nature with an erro - 
 neous proceeding. And that this is her way >s 
 plaioj since those animals which are guided onK 
 
110 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 by her motion thus act. Birds go to their rest, 
 and awake with the sun ; if any of our domestic 
 creatures do otherwise, our irregularity is the 
 cause; and that jjerversion is of no less dangerous 
 consequence than that of the seasons, wnich is 
 ever attended by diseases. And who makes any 
 doubt but that the greatest perfection of the hea- 
 vens consists in their regular motion, the princi- 
 pal cause of their duration, which order we should 
 come as near to as we can in our actions ; among 
 which sleeping and waking, being the hinges on 
 which all the others of our life depend — if there 
 be any irregularity in these, confusion and dh^ 
 order must needs be expected in all the rest; 
 may be seen in the lives of courtiers of both sexes^ 
 who turn night into day, and day into night, a 
 rourse of life much different from that which i^^ 
 observed by the members of regulated conipanies. 
 Besides, it is the morning that not only holds a 
 stricter correspondence with the Muses, but ii 
 also the fittest time for the performance of all the 
 functions of bodv and mind. Then is it that 
 physicians prescribe exercise, in regard that the 
 body being cleared of the excrements of the first 
 and second concoelioOj is wholly disposed for the 
 distribution of aliment, and evacuation of the ex~ 
 cremerits of the third ; so that he who passes 
 that part of the day about his affairs, besides the 
 expedition he acquires, does by that means main- 
 XMn the e;xr^-y cf h's body and mind, which is 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 commonly dulled by sleeping in the day-time; 
 which fills the head with vapours, and when 
 exercise comes to succeed it in the warmest part 
 of the day, the heat, which is then commonly 
 greatest, makes it less supportable. Therefore Na- 
 ture, which is a sure guide, inclines us to sleep in 
 the evening ; there being nothing but the multi- 
 plicity and distraction of evil affairs, which de- 
 priving us of that function, as it does of divers 
 others, makes the life of man so much the less 
 certain, the more he is involved in affairs; where- 
 as the duration of that of animals, and next to 
 them of country people, and such as comply with 
 the conduct of Nature, is commonly of a greater 
 length, and more certain. 
 
 Quest. — What is Friendship? 
 
 yfns. — Friendship is a powerful and strict union, 
 which unites the lover and the loved, like that 
 bond which in nature unites the matter and the 
 form, the accidents and the substance. The 
 eause of it is goodness, which, being propor- 
 tionate to the body, produces a natural amity ; 
 to the passions, an animal amity ; to the under- 
 standing a rational one; to the laws a political or 
 civil ; to religion a divine one. This goodness, 
 consisting in a proportion and symmetry, is not 
 different from beauty ; and therefore we appre- ^ 
 hend beauty in good things, and goodness and 
 convenience in such as are handsome and graceful. 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Resides goodness, which is the cause of friend- 
 ship, and towards which our will is as necessarily 
 carried as the intellect is towards truth, and all 
 the senses towards their proper objects, resetn- 
 blance and friendship itself are the causes of friend- 
 ship. The first is founded upon the love we bear 
 to ourselves: for as we love ourselves above any- 
 thing else in this world, so we love those who re- 
 resemble us, and symbolize with our humours and 
 inclinations. Hence it is that one of the most 
 common courses to please is, to conform our- 
 selves to those by whom we desire to be affected ; 
 then friendship, the second means of acquiring 
 love, is no less effectual, it being almost impos- 
 sible not to love them who love us. . 
 
 Friendship must be distinguished from love ; 
 for love is a passion arising from the imagination 
 of a sensible good, and is found even in brute 
 beasts ; but friendship is one of the most excel- 
 lent virtues, or rather the fruit of acconiplished 
 dod perfect virtue. Virtue has place only among 
 excellent persons, uniting them together in the 
 exercises of virtue. Being once established, it is 
 very durable. Therefore Seneca pronounces that 
 the friendship which knows an end was never 
 true. Some friendships there are whose founda- 
 tion is profit and pleasure, but they are always 
 imperfect. Whence it is that old men and young 
 are ordinarily accounted incapable of true frierid- 
 ship ; the former, because they scarcely regard 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. ll^ 
 
 any thing besides profit ; and the latter, because 
 their minds are more set upon what is pleasant 
 and agreeable, than upon what is honest and vir- 
 tuous. Nor is it ever found amongst wicked per- 
 sons. For a perfect friend must love another as 
 much as himself. And although the affection we 
 bear to ourselves be not true friendship, because 
 it must always have reference to another, yet it is 
 the most certain, yea the measure of perfect friend- 
 ship ; and God has appointed it as the rule of our 
 love to our neighbour. Now, how^ can he be a per- 
 fect friend who does not love himself? how can he 
 agree with another who accords not with himself? 
 for a vicious man is his own chief enemy, while 
 he pursues the false and imaginary good instead of 
 the true — vicfe instead of virtue ; and many times 
 he becomes his own murderer by intemperance 
 and other vices. He has always a civil war with- 
 in himself; his reason is never at peace with his 
 appetite; what one desires, the other rejects. 
 Consequently, he has never any inward joy ; but 
 he is greatly displeased with being alone, and for 
 that reason always seeks the company of those 
 like himself, to divert his sad thoughts. 
 
 There is nothing comparable to friendship^ 
 which is the salt and seasoning of human life, 
 the preserver of societies, and the most agreeable 
 and sweetest consolation that persons of virtue 
 and honour can have ; by help of which a man 
 finds another self, to whom he may intrust his 
 
114 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 most secret thoughts. It is therefore one of the 
 greatest blessings to have a friend, whom you may 
 make partaker of your feHcity, which is so much 
 the greater, when it is communicated to others 
 without being diminished to yourself; and in case 
 adversity befall you, the same is sweetened by the 
 relation you make thereof to him who shares this 
 burden with you, and so renders it more support- 
 able. True it is, that although a friend be ne- 
 cessary in either fortune, yet he is more advan- 
 tage to us in adversity ; in which a friend supplies 
 his friend with liealth and counsel, and is thereby 
 distinguished from a false one, who loves only 
 for the sake of his own pleasure and profit. Now 
 whatever is excellent has most of unity. And as a 
 river divided into several streams is more weak, 
 so friendship shared among many is always lan- 
 guid and impotent. Besides, a friend should be 
 complacent to his friend in everything, and they 
 ought to be but one soul living in two bodies. 
 Now it is as hard to please many, as it is impos- 
 sible to please all the world. And should two 
 friends at the same time implore the succour of a 
 third, he could not betake himself to both toge- 
 ther, nor consequently satisfy the duty of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Friendshi}) is either natural, spiritual, or moral. 
 The natural is between father and children, bre- 
 thren and sisters, husband and wife, and between 
 kindred ov alliance. The spiritual is between 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 115 
 
 those who profess the same law and religion. The 
 moral is between such as are united together on 
 the account of virtue. It consists only in the 
 union of wills, not of understandings ; for I may 
 have an opinion different from that of my friend, 
 without prejudicing our friendship, but not a dif- 
 ferent will. And as honesty does not take away 
 piety, nor piety honesty ; so spiritual and moral 
 friendship do not destroy one another. For I 
 may love one morally whom I do not love spiri- 
 tually ; that is, I may unite with him in the exer- 
 cises of honesty or virtue, though 1 differ in those 
 of piety. 
 
 Quest, — Why do all men naturally desire 
 knowledge ? 
 
 Ans, — Several answers may be given though 
 the reason may appear different. Aristotle rightly 
 observes, that the first question ought to be whe- 
 ther the thing be, or exist; because it is in vain to 
 seek the causes of that which has no being. It is 
 therefore first to be inquired, whether it be true 
 that all men have a natural desire of knowledge, 
 and then the causes thereof must be sought. That 
 which is natural must be found in all ; so we 
 say it is natural to a stone to tend downwards, be- 
 cause all of them do so. But it is so far from 
 being true that all men are desirous to know and 
 learn, that, for rectifying the defect of such de- 
 sire, we see teachers sometimes trrmed with the 
 
 I 2 
 
\16 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 rod, sometimes forced to use allurements and 
 rewards, and employ all imaginable artifices, to 
 excite a desire of learning in such as want it, the 
 number of whom is always greater than of others* 
 Hence it is that in a school of five hundred pupils 
 you shall scarcely find fifty that have well profited 
 in learning; and amongst a hundred masters of 
 trade, scarcely ten good workmen. Moreover, 
 there are some men who have not much less of 
 the beast than of the man. And as the greatest 
 clerks are not always the wisest men, so neither 
 are they the most happy. The best and most 
 knowing philosopiiers are not the men that do 
 their business best. It will be said, that to un- 
 derstand the means of advancing one's self is a sort 
 of knowledge; and they who have not a genius for 
 learning, have one for other things, and profit 
 therein as well as in the sciences. But I answer, 
 that philosophy being the key of all other disci- 
 pline, it is a sign they will not open the chest, 
 when they refuse the key of it. 
 
 All naturally desire to know, but not all things, 
 nor at all times, nor by all the ways prescribed 
 them ; every one would learn after his own mode 
 and things proportionable to his reach ; and as 
 when these conditions meet together, they excite 
 the desire ; so when any one is wanting, they 
 cause disgust. Thus one is passionately affected 
 to Algebra, which deters the wit of another. One 
 matter may please at the beginning, and become 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOFHV. llj 
 
 distasteful in the continuance; and the same sub- 
 ject being created in familiar discourse will render 
 you attentive, yet displease you in a more lofty 
 style, which on the other side would content 
 some other. It is not therefore to he wondered, 
 if some minds have reluctancy against the con- 
 straint offered to be laid upon them. Supposing 
 this desire of knowledge not general, it is de- 
 manded how it comes to be so great in many per- 
 sons, that some have relinquished all their for- 
 tune for it, others have spent their whole age in 
 attaining it, others have put out their eyes the 
 better to attend it, and some lost their lives for it. 
 Surely they all do thus for some good. Now 
 good is divided into three kinds ; and, correspond- 
 ently, some do it for profit, fitting themselves to 
 gain themselves a livelihood; others for honour, 
 and to gain the prerogatives which know- 
 ledge procures to the most learned ; others, only 
 for the pleasure they find in study, and not for 
 the sake of knowledge itself ; for when we once 
 have attained the knowledge of a thing, it aflfords 
 us delight no longer ; whence it is that excellent 
 workmen are always poor, because so soon as they 
 have arrived to a perfection of skill, they leave all 
 further search to others ; their only pleasure was 
 in the acquisition ; this pleasure herein resem- 
 bling all other sorts, which consist only in action, 
 and not in acquiescence or satisfaction. But may 
 
118 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 it not also be thus, because our soul being a num- 
 ber, always desires and aims to perfect itself? 
 And as no number can be assigned so great, but 
 some other may be added to it, even to infinity ; 
 so our soul is capable of receiving new light and 
 new notions, to infinity. Or else, as every thing 
 tends to its natural place ; so our soul, being of 
 celestial origin, aspires to the infinite knowledge 
 of God by that of finite things. 
 
 The reason why both young and old desire to 
 know, is, because of the extreme pleasure which 
 they take in knowing things. But if some be not 
 inclined to it, it is in regard of the difficulties, 
 which abate indeed, but cannot wholly extinguish 
 their natural ardour. This pleasure is apparent, 
 in that we take delight to know not only true 
 things, but such as we are conscious to be noto- 
 riously false : yea sometimes we are more de- 
 lighted with the latter than the former, provided 
 they have some pretty conceits, as with stories, 
 fables and romances. For there is nothing so small 
 and inconsiderable in nature, wherein the mind 
 finds not incomparable delight. " The gods,'' saith 
 Aristotle, are as vyell in the least insects, as in 
 the most bulky animals and to despise little 
 things is, in his judgment, to do like children. 
 For, on the contrary, as in art, the less place a 
 picture takes up, the more it is esteemed ; and 
 the Iliads of Homer were sometimes the more ad- 
 
HISTOKY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1 19 
 
 mired for being comprised in a nutshell. So in 
 nature, the less volume things are in, the more 
 worthy they are of admiration. Now if there be 
 so much pleasure in seeing the figures and repre- 
 sentations of natural things, because sve observe 
 the workman's industry in them ; there is much 
 more contentment in clearly beholding those 
 things themselves, and remarking in their essence 
 properties and virtues, the power and wisdom of 
 nature far transcending that of art. But if the 
 knowledge of natural things afibrds us so great 
 dehght, thatof supernatural things delights us in a 
 higher measure ; and it is also much more diffi- 
 cult, because they are remote from our senses, 
 which are the ordinary conveyances of know- 
 ledge. Wherefore, there being pleasure in know- 
 ing both great things and small, natural and su- 
 pernatural : it is no wonder if man, who usually 
 follows delectable good, takes delight in knowing. 
 
 We love the sense of seeing above all the rest, 
 because it supplies us with more knowledge than 
 the rest; because man, being mindful of the place 
 of his origin, desires to raise himself above plants 
 and other animals : by sense he advances himself 
 above plants ; by memory above certain animals 
 who have none; by experience above them all; 
 but by the use of reason, from which proceeds 
 science, men excel one another. And, as Seneca 
 saith, men are all equal in their beginning and 
 their end, that is, as to life and death, not differ- 
 
120 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ing but in their interval, whereof science is the 
 fairest ornament. The cause of this desire of 
 knowing proceeds then from the natural inclina- 
 tion every thing has to follow its own good. Now 
 the good of man, as man, is to know. For as a 
 thing exists not but so far as it acts, therefore the 
 reasonable soul, being the most noble and perfect 
 of all forms, desires to employ itself incessantly 
 in its action, which is the knowledge of things. 
 Indeed every thing strives after its own operation. 
 As soon as the plant is issued out of the earth, it 
 thrusts forward till it comes to its just bigness. 
 The eye cannot without pain be hindered from 
 seeing ; silence causes sadness. 
 
 The intellect becomes every thing which it un- 
 derstands. Hence man, the most inconsistent of 
 all things, is carried so ardently to the knowledge 
 of all things; which finding not worthy of him, 
 he relinquishes, till he be arrived at the know^- 
 ledge of his Creator ; to whom conforming him- 
 self, he desires to know nothing more, but ac- 
 quiesces, contemplating in him, as in a mirror, 
 all other things of the world. 
 
 We have the seeds and treasures of knowledge 
 hidden in ourselves ; which, longing to be exerted 
 and reduced from power into act, incessantly soli- 
 cit us to put them forth. Hence comes the desire 
 of knowing, or rather awakening those species 
 which are perfected in us by use, and in time 
 whollv displayed. Teachers do not infuse know- 
 
 r 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 131 
 
 ledge into the children whom they instruct, but 
 only assist them to produce it out of folds and re- 
 cesses of the mind, in which otherwise it would 
 remain unprofitable, and like matter without 
 form. As the steel does not give fire to the flint, 
 but elicits the same of it, so those natural lights 
 and notices being at first enveloped with clouds, 
 when their veil is taken away, and they are 
 loosened from the contagion of the senses, they 
 extremely delight those who bore them inclosed 
 in their breast, and needed help to exclude them. 
 
 Quest, — Is there such a thing in nature as a 
 Vacuum ; and what are the opinions of the learned 
 about it ? 
 
 Ans, — The vulgar call that empty which is not 
 filled with some visible body. But the philoso- 
 phers give this name to a place destitute of all 
 corporeity whatsoever, yet capable of being filled ; 
 at least, if any such can be in nature ; for it can- 
 not be understood of those imaginary spaces be- 
 yond the heavens, which, Pythagoras said, served 
 for their respiration, whereof he conceived they 
 stood in need, as animals do. Democritus and 
 Leucippus admitted a twofold vacuum : one in 
 the air, serving for local motion ; the other in all 
 mixed bodies requisite to the internal growth, and 
 also to the lightness of things ; alleging that ac- 
 cording as their atoms are closely or loosely con- 
 nected, and of various figures, so bodies are light 
 
 « 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 or heavy. Bat these opinions being antiquated, 
 some adhere to the common one, which admits 
 no vacuum at all. 
 
 Others say, that since nature abhors a vacuum, 
 there must be such a thing; for of two contraries, 
 one supposes the other. And indeed it is impos- 
 sible for any local motion, condensation or rare- 
 faction, and inward augmentation, to be made 
 without admitting vacuity : for, as for local mo- 
 tion, when a body removes out of place, that 
 into which it enters is either full or empty ; not 
 full, for then it could not receive a new body 
 without penetration of dimensions, which nature 
 cannot suffer, therefore it must be empty. For 
 this reason, Melissus affirmed that all things are 
 immoveable ; for being unable to comprehend 
 how motion could be made without, and unwil- 
 ling to admit vacuity, therefore he denied both. 
 To say that bodies give way one to another, is 
 to increase the difficulty instead of resolving it ; 
 for the body which gives place to another must 
 displace a third, and this a fourth, and so to 
 infinity. Moreover, a vacuum is proved by con- 
 densation and rarefaction ; for the former being 
 made when a body is reduced into a lesser ex- 
 tent, and its parts approach nearer one another 
 without loss of any, either these parts penetrate 
 one another, or else there was some void space, 
 which is possessed by themselves when they are 
 pressed together, seeing, if they had been so con- 
 
HISTORY AND t*HILOSOPHY. 1 
 
 tiguous as that there were not any empty pores 
 between them, they would not have come closer 
 together. Likewise rarefaction^ being caused when 
 the parts recede one from another, if no other 
 body interpose, there must needs be a vacuum 
 between the parts, or else they must have been 
 one within another. If it be said, that propor- 
 tionably as one thing is condensed in one place, 
 another is as much rarefied somewhere else, to 
 fill up the vacuum, and so on the contrary ; this 
 is harder to be conceived than a vacuum. Lastly, 
 accretion, or growth, which is caused by the 
 reception of aliment in the body, could not be 
 made, if there were not some void passages to 
 receive this aliment. And, to conclude, expe- 
 rience shews us, that a pail of water will receive 
 its own measure of ashes or lime, which it could 
 not do if there were no vacuity. 
 
 A third opinion is, that every thing affects 
 unity, not only because God, who is the universal 
 cause of all, is one, and most simple, and every 
 thing ought to be like its cause ; but that all 
 things find their good in unity, as they do their 
 ruin in disunion. Wherefore every thing in the 
 world is so united, that there is not any empty 
 space between two ; and contiguity is as neces- 
 sary in the parts of the world, as contiguity in 
 those of a living creature: for if there were a 
 vacuum in the world, the heavens would not 
 transmit their influences into the elements and 
 
124 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 their compounds, for the preservation of which 
 the same are absolutely necessary ; considering 
 that, whatever acts upon a distant thing, must 
 do it by some medium uniting the agent and the 
 patient. 
 
 But it is said, that since nature offers violence 
 to herself, to prevent inanity, and all things quit 
 their particular interest for that of the publick, 
 undoubtedly there is no such thing as a vacuum 
 in nature ; for we see that she makes heavy things 
 to ascend, light things to descend, and breaks 
 the solidest and strongest things without any 
 external violence, only to avoid the inconvenience 
 of vacuity. If bellows be compressed, and the 
 holes stopped, no human force can expand them 
 without breaking : a bottle, of what material 
 soever, filled with boiling water and stopped, and 
 put into cold, immediately flies into pieces. You 
 cannot draw wine out of a vessel, unless you 
 give entrance to the air by some hole. A vessel 
 being full of heated air, and its orifice applied to 
 the water, sucks the same upwards ; a cupping- 
 glass, when the heated and subtile air in it be- 
 comes condensed and takes up less room, attracts 
 the flesh into itself. Syphons and pumps, by 
 which the water is made to ascend higher than 
 its source, are founded wholly upon this avoiding 
 of vacuity. Our own bodies also afford an in- 
 stance ; for the aliment could not be assimilated 
 in each part, without the suction and attraction 
 
HISTORY AND 3*111 LOSOPHY* 125 
 
 which is made of it, to supply the wants of what 
 is consumed by exercise ^or heat ; otherwise the 
 blood and nourishment would tend only down- 
 wards by their own weight. And what makes 
 the effect of blood-letting and evacuation so sen- 
 sible, but this very flight of vacuum ? 
 
 A notable vacuity, and of great extent, cannot 
 be without a miracle ; but some small inter- 
 spersed vacuities may be between the particles of 
 the elements and compounds, like the pores of 
 our bodies : for Nature abhors the former, and 
 can do nothing without the latter ; it being im- 
 possible for qualities to be transmitted to any 
 subject through a great vacuum, which would 
 hinder the perception of our senses, and the fire 
 itself from heating at the least distance. There 
 could be no breathing in it ; birds could not 
 fly in it: in brief, no action could be exercised 
 in it but those whereof the principle is in the 
 thing itself, and which needs no medium, as local 
 motion, which w-ould be more easily made, be- 
 cause there could be no resistance. 
 
 Nature does what she can to hinder a vacuum, 
 yet suffers one when she is forced to it ; for if 
 you suck all the air out of a bottle, then stop it 
 exactly, and having put it under water, with the 
 mouth downwards, open it again, the water will 
 immediately ascend, to fill the vacuity left by the 
 exsuction of the air. And if with a syringe you 
 force air into a vessel strong enough to endure 
 
126 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 such violence, when the pores of the air, which 
 were empty before, come to be filled, it will, of 
 its own accord, drive out the water very impe- 
 tuously, which was first put into it. Likewise, 
 though the air naturally keeps above the water, 
 yet, by enclosing it in some sort of vessel, you 
 may violently make it continue under the water. 
 
 Quest. — Pray oblige me with the several opi- 
 nions you have met with concerning the capri- 
 cious or extravagant humours of women ? 
 
 Ans, — It should not be thought that all wo- 
 men are capricious ; but only the reason inquired 
 of those that are so, and why are they more than 
 man ? To allege the difference of souls, and 
 suppose that as there is an order in the celestial 
 hierarchies, whereby the Archangels are placed 
 above Angels, so the spirits of men are more per- 
 fect than those of women, were to fetch a reason 
 too far off, and prove one obscure thing by ano- 
 ther more so. Nor is the cause to be found in 
 their bodies, taken in particular ; for then the 
 handsome would be free from this vice, the ac- 
 tions which borrow grace from their subject ap- 
 pearing to us of the same nature, and conse- 
 quently their virtues would seem more perfect, 
 and iheir defects more excusable; whereas, for 
 the most part, the fairest are the most culpable. 
 We must therefore recur to the correspondence 
 and proportion of the body and the soul ; for 
 
HISTORY AKD PHILOSOPHY. 127 
 
 sometimes a soul lights upon a body so well 
 framed, and organs so commodious for the exer- 
 cise of its faculties, that there seems more of a 
 superurbem than of a man in its actions, whence 
 some persons of either sex attract the admiration 
 of the world. On the contrary, other souls are so 
 ill lodged, that their actions have less of man 
 than of brute; and because there are more women 
 than men found, whose spirits are ill quartered 
 and faculties depraved, hence comes their capri- 
 cious and peevish humour. The manner of living 
 to which the laws and customs subject women, 
 contribute much to their defects ; for, leading 
 a sedentary life, wherein they have also the same 
 objects before their eyes, and their minds not 
 being diverted by civil actions, as those of men 
 are, they make a thousand reflections upon their 
 present condition, comparing it with those whereof 
 they account themselves worthy. This puts 
 their modesty to the rack, and oftentimes carries 
 them beyond the respect and bounds which they 
 proposed to themselves ; especially if a woman of 
 good wit sees herself married by a weak husband, 
 and is ambitious of shewing herself. Another, 
 judging herself to merit more than her rival, not 
 knowing to whom to complain of her unhappi- 
 ness, does every thing in spite. 
 
 The word capricious is used to signify the 
 extravagant humour of most women, because there 
 is no animal they resemble more than a goat, 
 
128 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 whose motions are so irregular : for such as 
 have searched into the nature of this animal find 
 that its blood is so sharp, and spirits so ardent, 
 that it is always in a fever ; and hence it is, that 
 being agitated with this heat, which is natural to 
 it, it leaps as soon as it comes into the world. 
 Now the cause of this temper is the conformation 
 of the brain, which they say is like that of a 
 woman ; the ventricles of which being very small, 
 are easily filled with sharp and biting vapours, 
 which cannot evaporate, as Aristotle affirms, be- 
 cause their sutures are closer than those of men. 
 Those vapours prick the nerves and membranes, 
 and so cause those extraordinary and capricious 
 motions. Hence it is that women are more sub- 
 ject to the megrims, and other diseases in the 
 head, than men. And as those that sell a goat 
 never warrant it sound, as they do other animals, 
 there is no less excuse in reference to women : 
 which caused the Emperor Aureliusto say, that 
 his father-in-law Antoninus, who had done so 
 much to others, had done him mischief enough 
 in giving him his daughter, because he found so 
 much bone to pick in a little flesh." Moreover, 
 the Naturalists say that the goat is an enemy to 
 the olive-tree, which is a symbol of peace, where- 
 unto women are not over well-afiected : forj 
 not to mention the first divorce which woman 
 caused between God and man, by her liquorish- 
 ness, her talking, her ambition, her luxury, he 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 1S9 
 
 obstinacy, and other vices, are the most common 
 causes of all the quarrels which arise in famiHes 
 and in civil life. If you would have a troop of 
 goats pass over any difficult place, you need force 
 but one to doit, and all the rest will follow: 
 so women are naturally envious, and no sooner 
 see a new fashion but they must follow it. And 
 gardeners compare women and girls to a flock of 
 goats, who roam and browse incessantly, holding 
 nothing inaccessible to their curiosity. There is\ 
 but one considerable difference between them : 
 the goat wears horns, and the women makes/ 
 others wear them. 
 
 A third opinion is, that there is more resem- 
 blance between a woman and a mule, than be- 
 tween a woman and a goat. For the mule is the 
 most testy and capricious of all beasts, fearing a 
 shadow more than a spur ; so* a woman fears 
 every thing but what she ought to fear. The 
 obstinacy of the mule, which is so great that it 
 has grown into a proverb, is inseparable from 
 the whole sex, most of them being gifted with a 
 spirit of contradiction. Mules delight to go in 
 companies ; so do women. The bells and muz- 
 zles of the one have some correspondence with 
 the ear-rings and veils of the others; and both 
 love priority. The more quiet you allow a mule, 
 it becomes the more restive ; so women become 
 more vicious in idleness. Neither of them wil- 
 lingly admits the bridle between their teeth. 
 
130 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Lastly, the mule that has seemed most tractable 
 all its time, one day of other pays his master 
 with a kick ; and the woman that has seemed 
 most discreet, at one time or other commits some 
 notorious folly. 
 
 Those who invented the little medals repre- 
 senting the upper part of a woman and the lower 
 of a mule, commend this sex while they think to 
 blame it ; for there is nothing more healthy, 
 strong, patient of hunger and the injuries of 
 seasons, or that bears more, or is more service- 
 able, than a mule. Now, if certain actions of 
 women seem full of perverseness and caprice to 
 some, possibly others will account them to pro- 
 ceed from vivacity of spirit and greatness of 
 courage ; and as the Poet, in great commendation 
 of his black mistress, chanted her cheeks of jet 
 and bosom of ebony, so, whatever some people's 
 mistake may say to the contrary, the most capri- 
 cious woman is the most becoming. Nor is this 
 humour unprofitable to them ; for as people are 
 not forward to provoke a mule, for fear of kicks, 
 so we are more shy of women than otherwise we 
 should be, for fear of caprices ; yet some hold 
 that this capriciousness of women follows the 
 moon ; others, that the flower of beans contri- 
 butes very much to it. 
 
 If credit is to be given to experience, Solomon, 
 who had a thousand women, compares an ill 
 capricious woman to a tigress and a lioness. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I3I 
 
 Such were Medea, Xantippe, and many others. 
 Moreover, the Poets say that the Gods, intending 
 to punish Prometheus for having stolen the ce- 
 lestial fire, gave him a wife. And when Satan 
 afflicted Job, he deprived him of his flocks, of 
 his houses, and of his children ; but had a care 
 not to take his wife from him, knowing that this , 
 was the only way to make him desperate, as it i 
 would have done without God's special grace. ' 
 The Rabbins say, three sorts of persons were 
 exempted from public charges, and could not be 
 called into judgment; namely, the poor, the 
 nephritic, and he that had a bad wife ; because 
 they had business enough at home, without need- 
 ing any abroad. The laws, likewise, exempted 
 new-married men from going to the wars the first 
 year of their marriage; allowing them this time, 
 which is the roughest and most important, to 
 reduce their fierce spouses to duty ; which if the 
 husband could not effect, a little bill of divorce 
 did the business. Though the Chaldeans used 
 not so much formality, but only extinguished 
 the domestic fire which the priest kindled at the 
 marriage ; yet the privilege was not reciprocal, 
 neither divine nor human laws having ever al- 
 lowed women to relinquish their husbands ; for 
 then, being as capricious and inconstant as they 
 are, they would have changed every day. For 
 the same reason, the laws have always pro- 
 hibited to women the administration of public 
 
 K 2 
 
133i THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 affairs. And the religion of the Mahometan 
 Arabians assigns them a paradise apart ; because, 
 say they, if the woman should come into the 
 paradise of the man, they would disturb all the 
 feast. 
 
 Quest. — How did beasts come into islands? and 
 bow did some remote islands come first to be in- 
 habited ? 
 
 Ans. — The latter question appears the less dif- 
 ficult ; and, as the former may, perhaps, have some 
 dependence on it, shall be first answered. As His- 
 tory leaves us in the dark, all we can do is to 
 advance some probable hypothesis, which must 
 stand till it appears chargeable with any absur- 
 dity. We say then that the world was first peo- 
 pled from the East, as Holy Writ assures, and 
 history and reason persuade ; arts and arms first 
 flourished there, and almost innumerable armies 
 appeared in early times, whence repeated numbers 
 still issuing, in the same course with the sun, 
 proceeded from place to place, and island to 
 island, we mean those less remote from the conti- 
 nent, and which in clear weather might be seen 
 from it, and ships easily got thither, for there 
 was shipping as early as Noah. But what is it to 
 those more remote, as America, when the com- 
 pass was not invented ; first, let that be j)roved an 
 island, and then we will dispute further on it: in 
 the mean time we shall take the liberty to suppose 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 133 
 
 on, that it was peopled from the North-west part of 
 Tartary, which, if not a continent, must yet be 
 much nearer to those parts than our side of the 
 world. — For the second question : Beasts might 
 pass the same way, and perhaps easier than men. 
 If it is all land, through inaccessible snows and 
 woods ; if only some strait and narrow sea sepa- 
 rates, nothing more common than for sailors in 
 that part of the world to find great numbers of 
 living beasts floating on the ice ; and this way, as 
 well as others, wild beasts might be driven over, 
 or be there without so much trouble, if we admit 
 this following hypothesis, wherein I can see no 
 absurdity. That there were islands before the 
 flood cannot be proved by history or reason. Let 
 us suppose there were none, but some actually 
 made by its fury and violence ; other parts of the 
 continent, only disposed or prepared for islands, 
 continuing joined by a very small isthmus; while 
 that remained, there was a bridge large enough 
 for beasts to go over, which being, in process of 
 time, worn away, whereof tradition, observation, 
 and history, give us instances, those peninsulas 
 were thereby transformed into complete islands. 
 
 Quest. — What is the cause of titillation ? 
 
 Ans. — Lord Bacon has observed, that a man is 
 the most ticklish where the shin is thinnest, 
 which, as he adds, causes a quicker emission of the 
 sj)irits ; but this cannot be the efficient reason, 
 
134 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 because another can tickle ine where 1 cannot 
 tickle myself, and my skin is no thicker when 
 another touches it than when 1 touch it myself. 
 The certain reason is, the abundance of nerves, 
 which are the ministers of sensation, as, for ex- 
 ample, the palms of the hands, and the soles of 
 the feet, are very nervous ; another reason is, the 
 unaccustomedness of touching those places, as 
 appears in this — That the hand is not so ticklish 
 as the foot, because it is more used to it. 
 
 Quest. — Whether it is possible for any person 
 to die of conceit ? 
 
 u4ns. — Fancy is very strong in some persons, 
 especially in those of a melancholy disposition : 
 the reason of the Doctor, in the reign of King 
 James the First, who undertook either to kill or 
 cure by fancy, is no foreign answer to the ques- 
 tion. The Doctor begged some condemned per- 
 sons to make the trial; and choosing one amongst 
 the rest whose constitution he thought might be 
 most proper to work upon, he preserved him till 
 the last, settling the rest, one after another, up to 
 the chin in warm water afterwards ; opened a vein, 
 and let them bleed to death, using to them that 
 stood by such remarks as — Now such and such 
 veins are exhausted ; now so and so till they ex- 
 pired ; and coming to the last person, he was ac- 
 cordingly stripped, and placed like the rest, when 
 the Doctor made a false orifice that would not 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 135 
 
 bleed, using the same remarks of him to the by- 
 standers as he did of the rest ; and when he was 
 going to make the last remark he made for the 
 rest, the person swooned away, and died without 
 loss of blood, purely by fancy. 
 
 Quest. — What place does the Sun set in, and 
 where does it rise ? 
 
 j4ns, — All the world over. 
 
 Quest, — What is worse than Ingratitude? 
 j4ns, — — — — — 
 
 Quest, — What is the reason that simple water 
 distilled from green herbs is white and clear, 
 without the least tincture of green in it? 
 
 Ans, — Colour in general consists in these two 
 things, a certain disposition of the parts of the 
 matter to be seen, and the medium through which 
 it is seen. For instance, a coal has millions 
 of little pores when viewed by a microscope, 
 which imbibe the light, and being not able to 
 make that reflection that a closer body can, gives 
 that idea which we call blackness. White is 
 always found in a body which has an infinite 
 number of asperous little pointed particles of 
 matter, which, by their aptitude to give a great 
 confused reflected light, afford us the colour 
 which is called by that name ; and thus the 
 Via Lactea in the heavens, which appears white, 
 
13^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 is only a multitude of little stars, which are only 
 discernible by the help of a good telescope; these, 
 by their variety of reflections, which by reason of 
 their closeness cause a confusion of light, give an 
 idea of whiteness. Again, the change of the 
 light medium alters the colour of things, as by 
 day- light silk and gold have other colours than 
 they have in the night. This premised, the 
 question is very readily resolved, and all questions 
 of the same nature ; as, why red port should turn 
 to white wine in its passage ? The reason is this : 
 the disposition of parts that was in the liquid are 
 by motion and fermentation altered, and, by con- 
 sequence, the same light falling upon different po- 
 sitions of the particles of which any liquid is com- 
 pounded, must necessarily give a diflferent reflec- 
 tion, or produce in us a diflferent idea of colour. 
 
 Quest. — Why the Moon's beams do not convey 
 a warmth as the Sun's beams do? 
 
 j^ns, — The first reason is, the great distance 
 the Moon is from us, and, consequently, the rays 
 of the Sun are reflected very weakly. Were we 
 upon the Moon, we should find the rays reflect 
 from all around its atmosphere as the rays of the 
 Sun falling on the Earth reflect a great heat, espe- 
 cially from walls and sides of houses ; and even as 
 our culinary fires, having a metal reflector set be- 
 hind the meat while roasting, reflect a great heat 
 back again. The second reason may be, the 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I37 
 
 roughness and porosity of the Moon's body, which 
 is not so apt for reflection as if it were smooth and 
 close. And lastly, because of the globosity of the 
 Moon ; for, being round, it reflects the Sun's rays 
 every way, and does not collect them so strongly 
 for any one place as if it were a plain or other 
 fio^ure. 
 
 Quest. — If the Moon has no innate light of its 
 own, what is that faint light that may be seen 
 when the Moon is in the new, as we call it, for 
 all the rest of the circumference besides the little 
 enlightened parts has a weak light? 
 
 j4ns. — As that planet is a Moon to our Earth, so 
 our Earth is as it were a Moon to that planet, and 
 it is the reflection of the Sun's light from our Earth 
 upon the planet which gives it that weak light. 
 
 Quest. — Whence proceeds weeping and laugh- 
 ing for the same cause r 
 
 Ans, — It is from an equal compressure cf the 
 muscles, by the passions ; as, for instance, touch 
 a place of your body, and it itches ; rub the same 
 place hard, and it smarts. In like manner, when 
 the passions act easily upon the muscles, a smile 
 ensues ; if a little harder, it causes laughter ; if 
 harder, it causes laughter and crying at the same 
 time ; but if it be very violent, jt causes only 
 crying. 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — Why an owl can see better by faint 
 and imperfect light, than at such time as when the 
 sun shines in its vigour? 
 
 u4ns, — Some creatures have the pupil of their 
 eye very large, and are not subject to so little a 
 contraction as is requisite for a great light ; as 
 cats, rats, mice, owls, and some few more : 
 whereas, the generality of creatures are naturally 
 furnished with pupils, or eyesights, that will grow 
 greater or less according to the degree of light. 
 As, for instance, when a man has been in the 
 dark for some considerable time, and comes sud- 
 denly into a light place; or when a candle is 
 brought into a dark room, and a man wakes out 
 of his sleep — the sudden light dazzles the eye, by 
 reason the pupil of the eye was extended before 
 to co-operate with the act of visibility ; nor can 
 the eye be easy till it has again received a proper 
 degree of contraction for the quality of light, and 
 a due representation of objects. This may also 
 be farther confirmed by this instance : cover one 
 of your eyes, and the pupil of the other will dilate 
 to supply the office of that which is covered ; un- 
 cover that eye again, and the other pupil will 
 contract, for the reason above. From the one it 
 appears that the creatures above-named, being 
 furnished witli a great eye, sights which admit 
 not of a contraction proper for great lights can 
 see best in lesser lights; yet they cannot see at all 
 where there is no light. 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. I39 
 
 Quest, — Whether the least particle of matter is 
 infinitely divisible ? 
 
 Ans, — Yes, if you can find eyes always strong 
 enough to discern the last subdivision, and instru- 
 ments fine enough for such subdivisions ; also, if 
 both this strong eye and fine instrument will last 
 for ever ; for infinite divisions, and infinite time or 
 eternity, if you please to call it so, are inseparable. 
 16 Prop. 3 Euclid, will tell you something more 
 of this nature, if you are mathematically inclined. 
 
 Quest, — What is the reason that Millers are 
 more usually deaf than other persons ? 
 
 Ans, — We read that those people that live 
 near the fall of the River Nile cannot hear one 
 another unless they speak loud, and with an ex- 
 treme vehemency ; and that they soon become 
 deaf ; which proceeds from a continued and too 
 much extension of the membrane of the ear called 
 the drum. We have an instance in the Philoso- 
 phical Transactions, of a person that could hear 
 when he rode in a coach ; but when he was in a 
 room, or silent place, where there was no vehe- 
 ment agitation of air to extend the sunken mem- 
 brane, he heard not without diflBculty; and thus 
 it is with a miller, whose employ is amongst a con- 
 tinued noise of waters, &c. ; for the drum of the 
 ear, being continually stretched by the agitation of 
 the air, when he comes out of the noise grows 
 remiss, therefore not so capable of hearing as be- 
 
140 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 fore; just as an alteration is effected in the sound 
 of another drum, according to the straitness or 
 looseness of its bearing. 
 
 Quest. — What is the most delightful thing to 
 a man in this world ? 
 
 Ans — Much as he is. If intemperate and luxu- 
 rious, he delights most in what he ought most to 
 be ashamed of; virtuous men will take the great- 
 est delight in fair and virtuous actions, the noblest 
 whereof we esteem to be obliging a friend, or for- 
 giving an enemy. But were we asked what it is 
 we esteem most delightful to the most of men, we 
 should make no scruple to affirm, it is getting 
 money ; since for this only they will lose their 
 pleasure, part with their virtue, and sell their 
 honour. 
 
 Qwe*^.- -Whether it is better to lose the sioht, 
 or hearing ? 
 
 Ans. — Seeing is the more pleasant, hearing the 
 more useful sense. Without hearing, if born 
 deaf, or so from infancy, it is not easy to conceive 
 how any can be taught so much as the principles 
 of Religion, or any useful knowledge; both which 
 are frequently found to great perfection in the 
 blind, they being generally masters of vast me- 
 mories, as having none of those objects which so 
 frequently distract our thoughts by employing 
 our eyes. Not but that there have been some, 
 
HISTORV AND PHILOSOPHY. 141 
 
 who, having been deaf from their nativity, or in- 
 fancy, have almost unaccountably attained to the 
 knowledge of many useful truths, and under- 
 standing what is said, by observing the motion of 
 the speaker s lips, nay, sometimes only by feeling 
 them speak, or laying their hand on their mouth 
 while they do it ; whereof see a remarkable story 
 in the Reverend Bishop of Sarum's Letters, Letter 
 IV. p. 248. 
 
 Quest. — Why is it that the Sun can easily en- 
 lighten with its rays the deepest waters, and yet 
 cannot penetrate the clouds, which dissolve into 
 nothing but water ? 
 
 Ans. — It is because there are many earthy ex- 
 halations, and smoky vapours taken up into the 
 clouds, which make it so obscure and dark, that 
 the Sun cannot entirely penetrate to give light. 
 And that the waters, on the contrary, that are of 
 themselves clear and neat, are more susceptible of 
 the light and brightness of the Sun. 
 
 Quest. — How comes it that the heat of the 
 Sun makes our flesh tawny and black, and, on the 
 contrary, whitens linen ? 
 
 Ans. — Because its heat boiling the humours of 
 our bodies, they become blackish, and by that 
 means stain our skin. But linen drying itself 
 more easily in the Sun becomes wliiter, the liu- 
 niidity thereof being evaporated ; for it is huini- 
 
142 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 dity that takes away from it its whiteness, even as 
 it may be perceived that water thrown upon on a 
 whited wall will blacken it ; but, when dried up, it 
 returns to its whiteness. 
 
 Quest, — Why is snow so profitable to the fruits 
 of the earth ? 
 
 Ans, — By covering the earth, it protects the 
 fruits from the cold of the winter ; it hinders the 
 growing of useless herbs ; it partakes somewhat of 
 fatness, because of the air inclosed in it ; which, 
 melted into water, is fattening to the earth. If 
 fruits bud too soon, it drives away the vigour to 
 the root, by which means they are better nou- 
 rished. 
 
 Quest. — Which is hardest, to get, or to keep, 
 an estate, knowledge, or the like ? 
 
 Ans. — As the harder a weight is to be lifted 
 up, it is the harder to be held up; so the more la- 
 bour there is in acquiring, the more there is also 
 in preserving the thing acquired. Hence those 
 who have undergone hard toils to get an estate, 
 are more busied in keeping it than they who re« 
 ceive one from another without pains. On which 
 account it was, that Aristotle says, " Benefactors 
 love those they do good to, better than they are 
 beloved by them, because it is more trouble to 
 oblio^e than to be obliged ; and women love and 
 preserve their children so tenderly and dearly, be- 
 
HISTORY AND PHILOSOPHY. 143 
 
 cause of the pain they undergo in bringing them 
 forth. Yet, because this sex is designed to look 
 after the goods of the family, and men to procure 
 them, it may seem thereby that it is harder to get 
 than to keep ; otherwise the strongest would not 
 have the more difficult task, which equity and 
 justice require them to have. 
 
 Quest, — Why have some naturally their hair 
 curled ? 
 
 Ans. — Galen gives many reasons ; saying, the 
 hair curls from the hot and dry temperament of 
 the persons ; as one may perceive that all small 
 bodies, long and strait, dried by the fire, do bow 
 and fold. Or else this may proceed, says he, 
 from the feebleness of the matter of the hair ; 
 which, being not able to remain straight in its 
 length, doth bow and bend itself back again ; or 
 else, according to Aristotle, this may proceed 
 from the double motion of the matter of hairs 
 which is fuliginous exhalations : thus, being 
 something hot and dry, and by that means par- 
 taking both of an earthy and fiery quality, the 
 earthy tending downwards, and the fiery upwards, 
 it must necessarily follow, that by this double 
 and contrary motion the hair be curled. All which 
 reasons are very probable. 
 
144 
 
 THE AT[fKMAN ORACLE. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 (QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 
 
 ON 
 
 DIVINITY. 
 
 Quest. — What is the reason that the Evange- 
 lists say nothing of what happened to our Sa- 
 viour hefore his thirteenth year, excepting only 
 the disputation with the Doctors when he was 
 about twelve, which St. Luke relates ? 
 
 Ans. — The end an Author proposes to himself 
 in writing should be his rule to direct him what 
 to say, and what to omit ; and it was not the de- 
 sign of the Evangelists, simply to write the life of 
 our Saviour, but to transmit the Gospel to poste- 
 rity, that is, a doctrine, which, under the condi- 
 tion of repentance and future obedience, promises 
 to man the forgiveness of sins, and eternal life '* 
 which Gospel is composed of two parts, one of 
 which is doctrinal, the other historical, of which 
 
DIVINITY. 145 
 
 last they have made no more use than was neces- 
 sary to confirm this doctrine, as the history of 
 the miracles, death, resurrection, and ascension of 
 Jesus Christ, which could properly begin only at 
 his baptism, because it was from that time he be- 
 gan publicly to preach and to do miracles. So 
 the Evangelists have omitted all that passed be- 
 fore; and if they had said any thing, it ought ra- 
 ther to have been looked upon as a kind of pre- 
 amble, to make the person of our Saviour known, 
 than the beginning of an exact history of his life. 
 
 Quest, — It being certain from history that 
 thos€ who have been founders of Laws have gene- 
 rally pretended divine inspiration for them, as 
 Lycurgus, Numa, Mahomet, and others ; by 
 what criterion may we discover when such pre- 
 tensions as these are false and fabulous ; and, if 
 there be any such, when they are true and r^al ? 
 
 Ans, — It cannot be denied that we ought to be 
 very cautious that we have as good testimony and 
 argument as the nature of the thing will bear, be- 
 fore we believe any such revelations ; the conse- 
 quences of it being so very great, as we are more 
 careful in receiving gold than baser metals, be- 
 cause the loss is greater if false coin be put upon 
 us. Nor yet, on the other side, is there any ne- 
 cessity, or reason, for fear of being over-credulous, 
 to run into the contrary extreme; such a complete 
 scepticism being a greater enemy to science than 
 
 L 
 
146 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 credulity itself, because the credulous man may 
 believe something that is false, but the sceptic no- 
 thing that is true, though he has never so certain 
 and necessary cause persuading its belief. 
 
 It is extremely suspicious that a pretence to in- 
 spiration is false and ill-grounded, when those are 
 wicked men who pretend to have it. 
 
 Nor is it any more reasonable to believe a man 
 in such cases on his own single word, without any 
 better or stronger attestation. Indeed, this seems 
 so far from reasonable, that it is highly ridicu- 
 lous ; for it makes the testimony degenerate from 
 divine to purely human, as far as concerns us, 
 even supposing it could be true. This must be 
 granted, that, if the mission of any person from 
 Heaven has been nrst attested in an extraordinary 
 manner, it is but reasonable to believe him for the 
 future, for the work's sake, unless he plainly de- 
 stroys what he before built; for we are not to 
 suppose God would attest an impostor, and what 
 God does attest must of necessity be true. But 
 he who pretends to come in the name of God, in 
 an extraordinary manner, as inspired by Him, 
 and yet has no credentials, no undoubted sign or 
 miracle to attest his mission ; he really comes in 
 his own name, and deserves to be treated as an 
 impostor. 
 
 Nor can any laws have a divine origin when 
 they are contradictory to the laws of Nature, 
 coiumon moralit}'', or right reason. Now that 
 
DIVINITY. 147 
 
 there is such a thing as law natural, or some com- 
 mon incHnations to^ and sentiments of, what is 
 just and right, has been granted even by the 
 worst of men, a Dionysius himself owning some 
 respect for it, and refusing to violate that law, at 
 the same time he owned he had broken those of 
 his country. Indeed, the best and clearest test of 
 a law must be common unprejudiced reason, if 
 it is against that, so as to be absurd and ridiculous 
 plainly prejudicial to the interests of mankind, 
 destructive of Religion and morality, it cannot 
 with any propriety be said to be a law, nor can it 
 proceed from God. And further, if we had not 
 a natural power, when unprejudiced, of making 
 a judgment in such cases, why would God appeal 
 to us concerning the equality of his ways ? 
 
 Nov/ the opposites to all these must be the 
 surest notices of true revelation : as, 1. When 
 we observe a man of an exemplary holy life, no 
 way enthusiastical, full of unaffected religion 
 and devotion, not given to superstition, not cre- 
 dulous or ambitious, or covetous, or unjust ; of 
 good sense, of a candid and brave temper : it 
 is not at all reasonable to believe he will impose 
 any falsehood upon mankind ; and if God reveal 
 himself at all, it is much more probable he will 
 do it to such an one, than to one of a quite con- 
 trary character : and what is so probable it can- 
 not be unreasonable to believe, though it is so not 
 to believe it when we have positive arguments for 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 the reality of it, and that the most demonstrative 
 that the nature of the thing is capable of. 
 
 For, in the second place, the same reason that 
 makes it highly weak to believe any matter of 
 fact, especially of so great consequence, where it 
 is not thoroughly attested, makes it as ridiculous 
 and extravagant to refuse or disown our belief to 
 such fact as has sufficient and indubitable testi- 
 monies to confirm it, as strong and convincing, 
 and perhaps more so, than any we have for our 
 own estates or parents, or that there were such 
 persons as Julius Caesar or Alexander. And in 
 this number may we reckon numerous witnesses 
 to the truth of some things evidently surpassing 
 the power of art and nature, in confirmation of 
 any law, as of divine origin ; especially when, in 
 the last place, the matter of this law is highly 
 agreeable to the laws of nature and unprejudiced 
 reason ; when it plainly tends to the making of 
 mankind wiser, and better, and happier. And, 
 as a corollary to the whole, we may fairly add, 
 that such laws as are contrary to those which 
 we have all the reasons alleged to believe divinely 
 inspired cannot themselves be so, because God 
 can no more reveal contradictions than he can act 
 them. 
 
 It will be proper now to bring all this to bear, 
 and make it plain and useful, by descending to 
 instances in the most famed Legislators of former 
 
DIVINITY. 149 
 
 ages, who pretended divine authority, and an 
 immediate mission from Heaven. 
 
 We shall confine ourselves to those mentioned 
 in the objection, Lycurgus, Numa, Mahomet, 
 adding Solon. And here, not to detract from 
 the wisdom and j^enius which most or all of 
 these men were really possessed of, nor from 
 some good principles they seem to be endowed 
 with, this, in the beginning, lies against them 
 all — that they were not so much as honest men, 
 much less religious, who would endeavour to 
 persuade their people that they came immediately 
 from God, when it was all an imposture. It is 
 not sufficient to urge, in their excuse, that it 
 was for the benefit of their people, and only a 
 pious fraud ; for the falsehood and arrogancy is 
 the same, and cannot change its nature from any 
 prudential reasons ; nay, worse, all of them are 
 guilty of blasphemy, as well as forgery, for en- 
 titling the Divine Being to laws so contradictory 
 to His nature, and that reason He has printed on 
 the breasts of all mankind. Nor can there be a 
 greater argument of the falseness of their rules 
 than the methods they used to support them, for 
 truth can never need falsehood to strengthen or 
 recommend it. Of Lycurgus, it gives deep 
 suspicion of his cruelty and loose inclinations, 
 that he made such laws for his citizens, not for 
 an exigency only, and, as Solon said of his, 
 because they would receive no better but such 
 
150 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 as he used all means to render eternal, and wisely 
 starved himself to make them so ; and that, when 
 he had the citizens under his power, he might 
 have imposed what he pleased upon them ; and 
 in effect did what must needs have been much 
 more difficult and grievous, as the equahty of 
 lands, estates, and several others, nay, the secret 
 laws, and that of the children, which were plainly 
 his own imposition and invention, and seem to 
 proceed from his nature, not any political ne* 
 cessity that may be urged in their defence. It is 
 true, he forgave Alexander, when he struck out 
 his eye, and it was the most politic thing he 
 could do ; for thereby he made many of the citi- 
 zens his friends, which otherwise might have 
 proved his desperate and implacable enemies. 
 
 Solon, whatever his wisdom might be, certainly 
 w?LS not so extraordinary for his honesty. There 
 could not be a more soft, effeminate, licentious 
 man, than he was. 
 
 Numa, according to the account historians 
 give us, was the best man of all the heathen law- 
 givers ; but yet is not without such faults as were 
 wholly inexcusable. He was intolerably super- 
 stitious and enthusiastic ; he would not so much 
 as accept the crown of Rome till he had asked 
 leave of every crow or owl that fiew^ by him. He 
 propagated these foolish superstitions among the 
 people, and rooted them so deep in their religion 
 and common conversation, that it made them 
 
DIVINITY. 151 
 
 weak and fearful on the most frivolous and ridi- 
 culous occasions, which sometimes was the loss 
 of generals, armies, and kingdoms, taking them 
 off from a wiser dependance on Heaven, and, 
 with submission to that, making use of their 
 own valour and reason ; and if there was some- 
 times a brave man who shook off these shackles, 
 he was looked upon little better than an atheist. 
 
 Mahomet is hardly fit to be mentioned ; every 
 one knows he was the lewdest impostor that ever 
 abused mankind. 
 
 Nor does most of the evidence they bring for 
 the divinity of their laws amount to any more 
 than their own good word ; at least, none of them 
 came attested in such a manner as necessary to 
 persuade a wise man they were sent from Heaven. 
 
 Lycurgus, for his famous Rheira, which he 
 pretends he received at Delphos, had no wit- 
 ness but himself and a priestess. Indeed he 
 travelled both into Crete and Egypt, making an 
 acquaintance with the principal men in both 
 places, to get what he could from them, where 
 he collected some of his laws, making additions 
 of his own ; and his pretending he received them 
 from Heaven seems to be an imitation of the 
 Jewish Legislator, who certainly had his laws 
 from thence, and whose story he must have heard. 
 Besides, his way of promulgating his laws is a 
 clear evidence that he had not sufficient attesta- 
 tion of the divine authority, to which all men, 
 
152 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 as soon as convinced, immediately submit: for 
 he did it by force and armed men, whom he 
 drew up into the market-place when his project 
 was ripe, and frightened poor Charilaus so much, 
 that he ran to sanctuary on apprehension of 
 treason. 
 
 Solon, too, pretends an oracle; but he makes 
 little of it, and so it is not worthy of notice. 
 
 But for Numa, he quite glutted his barbarous 
 Romans with cheat and prodigy. He made them 
 believe strange visions were seen and prophetic 
 voices heard, and almost frightened them out of 
 their senses to get them to embrace his religion ; 
 and this he so long used them to, till, as Plutarch 
 tells us, there was nothing so ridiculous but he 
 could make them believe it. 
 
 Mahomet, to say truth, is the pleasantest fel- 
 low of them all : if he had no miracles, he made 
 it up to the full with lying wonders. Indeed, 
 most of his miracles were near a-kin to tran- 
 substantiation ; removing mountains, while they 
 stood still where they were. It is true, if you 
 will believe him, Alborach and he travelled many 
 thousand leagues together, the self-same road 
 that Gonzales since took with his Gazas, and 
 Bergerac with his bottles of may-dew and mar- 
 row-bones ; and well worth their pains was it, for 
 they brought back the Alcoran with them ; but 
 not so much as one angel's hand or mark to con- 
 firm it, of all those that he met and talked with 
 
DIVINITY- 153 
 
 In his journey. He had indeed^ once on a time, 
 a voice out of the earth, not from Heaven, which 
 proclaimed him the great Prophet of God. But 
 the subtle knave w^as resolved the poor fellow, 
 whom he had placed in a hollow cavern for the 
 purpose, should never tell tales out of school, or 
 recant what he had said ; and for that reason 
 made his followers immediately fill up the cave's 
 mouth with heaps of stones, and bury the wretch 
 alive, while he was in so good a mind. 
 
 Add to this, if there needed any more, that 
 the most ingenious writers among the heathens 
 do now and then, in spite of their religion, drop 
 such things as show plainly they thought it all an 
 imposture. And this not poets or epicureans 
 only, but the gravest and most learned among 
 them, their very priests, and those that were 
 initiated in their highest mysteries. Tully's opi- 
 nion is very well known in these matters, and 
 has been often pubhshed to the world. But 
 Plutarch is yet more fair and ingenuous ; for, 
 after he has said all he could of his Numa, in 
 defence of Lycurgus and other heathen lawgivers' 
 inspiration, of which, to say true, he gives a 
 pleasant account, " That he sees no reason but 
 that the gods, when in a grave and sober humour, 
 would inspire and assist the makers of laws, as 
 well as when they are in a merry pin ihey do 
 musicians and poets, which we suppose nobody 
 will deny him after this and his frankly owning 
 
154 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 that thoughts are free, and every one may think 
 what pleases him best in these matters : as if he 
 had not yet said enough, he comes to the point, 
 and fairly defends lawgivers for cheating the 
 people. " It cannot be denied," says he, " but 
 that such men as Lycurgus, Numa, and others, 
 who were to deal with the seditious humours of 
 fanatic citizens, and the inconstant disposition of 
 the multitude, might lawfully establish their pre- 
 cepts with the pretence of divine authority, and 
 cheat them into such politics as tended to their 
 own happiness. For those law-givers that were 
 truly inspired, see the next question. 
 
 Quest. — Whether there is any such thing as 
 Revealed Religion? 
 
 Ans. — This will appear from the fact, that 
 there actually has been such revelation ; first, of 
 moral truths ; then of the very person of a Legis- 
 lator and Mediator, who confirmed those truths, 
 and clearly and unanswerably asserted future 
 punishments and rewards. We can do no more 
 than prove such things must have been, and have 
 been ; nor can we prove past fact by any other 
 argument than universal tradition, enquiry into 
 the probability of the fact, and veracity of the 
 evidence, and the further witness, either of ene- 
 mies or disinterested people, wise and capable of 
 judging; all which criterions of truth we find in 
 the two grand revelations. made to mankind ; that 
 of the Law from Sinai, and of the person of a 
 
DIVINITY. 155 
 
 Teacher and Mediator in Jesus, of whom every 
 good and wise man, who has fairly examined his 
 doctrine and works, must say, as Plato did of 
 such a future instructor, " I will gladly own and 
 acknowledge him the Saviour of the world." For 
 the former of these revelations, the law given 
 from Sinai, for the sake of the rest of mankind, 
 and not the Jews only, if the fact were not true, 
 what makes the Jewish Nation so invincibly per- 
 sist in the profession of that law to this very day, 
 though scattered through the whole earth ? when 
 other Religions, that have pretended revelation, 
 not having so firm a basis at first, though spread 
 a thousand times farther, are now sunk and lost, 
 as the Grecian and Roman, there being scarcely 
 a man now left in the world who adores their 
 Mars, or Saturn, or Jupiter, or Juno. Nor was 
 this Law only pretended by Moses to be revealed 
 to him alone by God, as Numa deduced his from 
 his Egeria ; for God himself hath written it, and 
 spake in a voice from Heaven, which was heard 
 by six hundred thousand men, mixed with thun- 
 der and lightning, the whole mountain quaking 
 beneath it. Now, that the Jews had the know- 
 ledge of God among them has been witnessed by 
 heathen authors, and is further plain from hence, 
 that great men have travelled to their own coun- 
 try, on purpose to learn it. They have no other 
 learning, say some : it must be, then, this learning 
 which they went thither for, morality and know- 
 
15^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 ledge of the truth of God, certainly the best and 
 noblest accomplishments in the world. " God 
 himself bears witness/' says Porphyry, " that the 
 Hebrews have found it." And Pythagoras went 
 among the Egyptians and Hebrews to get learn- 
 ing; and Hermippus tells us he was circumcised, 
 that he might be admitted into the learning of 
 the Jews. And Josephus gives us several in- 
 stances, in his Discourse against Appion, of the 
 respect and reverence which the ancient Philo- 
 sophers had for the learning and religion of the 
 Jews, as believing it divine. The truth of our 
 Saviours mission, doctrine, and miracles, is at- 
 tested by so many thousands, that we cannot 
 suppose him an impostor, without thinking dis- 
 respectfully of God himself, who has left us no 
 way of arguing stronger than from sense, and no 
 way of judging objects of sense but by sense con- 
 joined with reason. The wondrous works of our 
 Saviour are not denied by Julian, Porphyry, the 
 Jews, Mahomet, nor his greatest enemies. They 
 are particularly recorded by eye-witnesses, and 
 attested by a person of great sense and learning, 
 St. Paul, who had been his bitter enemy ; and 
 by St. James, and other Writers of the Apostolical 
 ages. The Author of this Religion proposed no 
 worldly honour to himself, but knew he was to 
 attest it by his blood, and foretold as much to 
 his followers. There appears nothing, through- 
 out his life and doctrine, but what speaks him a 
 
DIVINITV. 157 
 
 wise and honest man, far from pride or vain- 
 glory. What, then, could he propose, had he 
 been an impostor ? How came he, a poor car- 
 penter, by such an excellent system of speculative 
 and moral truths, which certainly are not the 
 worse for being attested by miracle, unless he 
 had them from Heaven ? How came his Follow- 
 ers so stedfast in them, who knew they were to 
 have the same fate with their Master, for propa- 
 gating them ? and these not a few heated enthu- 
 siasts, but wise, and great, and good men ; nay, 
 in after-ages, Philosophers, and Senators, and 
 Princes; though at first, it is true, not many wise 
 or noble, for an obvious reason ; these con- 
 quered the world, not by fighting, but dying; 
 and exalted the trophies of the Mediator over all 
 the learning of Greece and power of Rome. And 
 the same divine virtue which has overthrown the 
 Neros, the Macatiuses, the Dioclesians, the Ju- 
 lians, the same that unraveled all the sophisms 
 of Celsus or Porphyr}^, of Tryphon and others — 
 there is not the least reason to fear its fallins: 
 before a few miserable modern pretenders, to 
 quibble rather than argument. Nor shall all the 
 secret mines of the treacherous Deist, or open 
 attacks of the would-be Atheist, ever prevail 
 against it. 
 
 Quest. — What is the meaning of St. Paul 
 being "a night and a day in the deep;" wliere 
 
158 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 shall we find that he was thrice shipwrecked," as 
 he says of himself. 2 Cor. ii. 25 ? 
 
 Ans. — ^The meaning of his being a night and a 
 day in the deep is plain enough that on a shipwreck 
 he so long remained in the sea, on a board, raft, or 
 some such thing, before he was taken up or got to 
 land. For his being thrice shipwrecked, it seems 
 not a very sensible question ; where should we find 
 it? when we find it in the next text mentioned, and 
 why need it be twice recorded ; St. Luke not 
 taking particular notice of all the apostle's actions, 
 any more than he, or St. John, or the other two 
 Evangelists, of those of our Saviour ? 
 
 Quest. — I have had a few difficulties concern- 
 ing some opinions of the Jews that I have met 
 with, which seem to disagree with the Bible ; and 
 find there were these several sects amongst them 
 in the time of our Saviour — the Pharisees, Saddu- 
 cees, Esseans, Herodians, Samaritans, Hareans 
 and Zealots? 
 
 Ans, — The three most considerable of all the 
 sects that were amongst the Jews when Christ 
 was born were, the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Es- 
 seans. Perhaps the Pharisees might have their 
 name as explainers and interpreters of the Law, 
 which was a chief part of their work, and for 
 which they were in great estimation amongst the 
 Jews ; or rather from separation, the most natural 
 import of the word, as Epiphanius says, so called 
 
DIVINITY. ' 159 
 
 because exempted from others in their extraordi- 
 nary pretences to piety ; the Jews describe a Pha- 
 risee, as one that separates himself from all un- 
 cleanness, unclean meats, and from the people of 
 the earth, who accurately observe not the differ- 
 ence of meats. Pharisee, in the Talmud, denotes 
 a pious and holy man. This sect was supposed 
 to arise not long after the Maccabees. Under the 
 pretence of Religion, however, they were mali- 
 cious, covetous, great oppressors, merciless deal- 
 ers, proud, scornful, and indeed guilty of most 
 immoralities ; they held the oral law of infinitely 
 greater moment than the written word ; that the 
 traditions of their forefathers wel-e above all things 
 to be embraced ; the strict observance of which 
 would entitle a man to eternal life ; that the souls 
 of men were immortal, and had their dooms 
 awarded in subterraneous regions ; that there is a 
 metempsychosis of pious souls out of one body 
 into another ; that things come to pass by fate, 
 and an inevitable necessity ; and yet that man's 
 will is free, that by this means men might be re- 
 warded, or punished according to their works. 
 
 The Sadducees were as opposite to the Phari- 
 sees in their temper, as they were in their prin- 
 ciples. Epiphanius thinks the Sadducees were so 
 called from justice, as pretending to be just and 
 righteous ; but this character agrees not with their 
 lives. They are generally thought to have had 
 the name from Sadock, the scholar of Antigonus 
 
1^0 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Sochans, about the year 3720, 384 years before 
 Christ. They pass, by the writers of their own 
 nation, for impious men, of very loose manners ; 
 the natural consequence of their principles, for 
 they denied a future state, the reason of whicli 
 desperate opinion is supposed to arise from mis- 
 taking Antigonus, who pressed his scholars not to 
 be mercenary, but to serve God for himself, with- 
 out the expectation of reward. This Sadock and 
 Baithos, two of his disciples, misunderstood, and 
 thought he denied any further reward. The}'- 
 held no providence, but that God Almighty is so 
 absolutely placed above the world, that he neither 
 regarded the vice nor virtue acted in it. These opi- 
 nions made them hated by the people : they were 
 styled by them heretics, infidels, epicureans ; no 
 name being thought bad enough for them. They 
 absolutely rejected the traditions of the Pharisees, 
 and affirmed men were to keep the letter of the 
 Law. Josephus says, they were the fewest of 
 all sects, but generally of the best rank and qua- 
 lity ; therefore, unwilling to be disturbed in their 
 ease and luxury, they were the most severe against 
 tumults and seditions, for which they could not 
 be blamed, having all their expectation and happi- 
 ness in this life. 
 
 The Esseans began about the time of the Mac- 
 cabees, when the persecution of Antiochus forced 
 the Jews to the woods and mountains; and though 
 this storm blew over in a little time, yet those 
 
DIVINITY. 1^1 
 
 men were so pleased with their retreat, that they 
 continued and combined into religious societies, 
 living a solitary and contemplative life. Their 
 numbers were usually about four hundred, ac- 
 cording to both Philo and Joseph us. Phny calls 
 them a solitary generation. They paid a reve- 
 rence to the temple by sending gifts and presents 
 thither ; but worshiped God at home, using 
 their own rites and ceremonies. Every seventh 
 day they met in their synagogue ; where, the 
 younger sitting at the feet of the elder, one read 
 some portions out of a book, which another, well 
 skilled in the principles of their sect, expounded 
 to the rest, instructing them in piety and virtue. 
 They industriously cultivated their ground, and 
 lived on the fruits of it ; had all in common, there 
 being neither rich nor poor among them. Their 
 manners were innocent, being exact observers of 
 justice, beyond the practice of other men. ft is 
 very probable the reason why we have no mention 
 made of them in the Gospels is, because, living 
 remote from others, they never concerned them- 
 selves with the actions of Christ or his Apostles ; 
 but, out of a pretended veneration for wisdom and 
 virtue, they neglected all care of the body, and re- 
 nounced matrimony, thinking it unbecoming men 
 of such a philosophical genius to spend any time 
 upon the necessities of the body. Their way they 
 called ^* worship," and their rules, " doctrines of 
 wisdom." Their contemplations were sublime and 
 
THE ATHENUN ORACLE. 
 
 speculative, dealing mucli in the names and mys- 
 teries of Angels ; their carriage bore a great shew 
 of modesty and humility. Therefore it is not un- 
 Hkely they were the persons chiefly designed by 
 St. Paul, when he charges the Collossiatis, to let 
 no man beguile them of their reward in a volun- 
 tary humility and worshiping of Angels, in- 
 truding into those things which he has not seen, 
 vainly puffed up by his fleshy mind, that being 
 dead to the rudiments of the world, they should 
 no longer be subject to these Dogmata, or ordi- 
 nances, such as touch not, taste not, handle not; 
 the main principles of the Essean institution 
 being the commandmen ts and doctrines of men ; 
 which things have indeed a shew of wisdom, in 
 will-worship, and humility and neglecting of the 
 body, not in any honour to the satisfying the 
 flesh. 
 
 The Herodians were supposed either a part of 
 Herod's guard, or a party that espoused his inte- 
 rest ; they were particularly active in pressing 
 men to take tribute. In matters of opinon they 
 seemed to side with the Sadducees, for what St. 
 Matthew calls the Leaven of the Sadducees, St. 
 Mark calls the Leaven of Herod, 
 
 The Samaritans were the posterity of those that 
 succeeded the ten tribes, a mixture of Jews and 
 Gentiles ; they held nothing but the Pentateuch 
 to be the word of God ; that Mount Gerizim was 
 the true place of worship ; that they were the de- 
 
DiviNmr. 1^3 
 
 scendanti of Joseph, and heirs of the Aaronical 
 Priesthood ; that no correspondence was to be had 
 with strangers, or any unclean thing touched. 
 
 The Karreans were a branch of the Saddu- 
 cees, but afterwards rejected their opinions. They 
 are the true Textuahsts, adhering only to the 
 writings of Moses and the Prophets, expounding 
 the Scripture by itself, disowning the absurd 
 glosses of the Talmud. There are to this day great 
 numbers of them at Constantinople and other 
 places. 
 
 The Zealots, so often mentioned by Josephus, 
 were an insolent and ungovernable sort of men ; 
 who, under a pretence of zeal for God, committed 
 the greatest outrages. 
 
 Quest. — By what means did the Pharisees be- 
 come so powerful amongst the Jews? and why 
 was our Saviour so displeased with them ? From 
 whence had the Jews their pretence for writing 
 the Talmud ? what was it chiefly composed on ? 
 who were the principal authors of it? and of 
 what repute was it amongst them ? 
 
 Ans. — Our Saviour was displeased with them 
 because of their hypocrisy, which evidently ap- 
 peared by what they taught, they being in the 
 chair of exposition about the time of our Saviour. 
 The priesthood were much degenerated ; and the 
 Pharisees, being more learned, took an opportu- 
 nity to advance themselves, and expound the Law, 
 
 M 2 
 
l64 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 but made the observance of it to consist merely 
 in outward performances : besides which, they 
 corrupted and dishonoured the Law, by preferring 
 their oral and unwritten traditions to it, which 
 was their Law delivered by word of mouth, the 
 pedigree of which they thus deduce : They say 
 that, when Moses was in the mount forty days, 
 God gave him a double Law, one in writing, and 
 the other traditionary, containing the sense and 
 explication of the former; which, when come 
 down, he repeated first to Aaron, then to Ithamar 
 and Eleazer his sons, then to the seventy elders, 
 and lastly to the people ; the same persons all 
 this time being present. Then, Moses going out, 
 Aaron who had heard it four times, repeated it 
 to them agam ; and at Aaron's departure, his sons 
 did the like, and so the elders ; and at last the 
 people departed, and taught every man his neigh- 
 bour. Moses at his death delivered it again to 
 Joshua, he to the elders, they- to the prophets, 
 the prophets to the men of the great synagogue, 
 the last of whom was Simeon the just, who deli- 
 vered it to Antigonus Locheus, he to the wise 
 men his successors, whose business it was to re- 
 cite it ; and it was handed through several genera- 
 tions. At last it came to R. Jebuda, whom the 
 Jews stiled Holy Master, who committed it to 
 writing, calling his book Misnaith, or the Repeti- 
 tion ; this was afterwards explained by the Rab- 
 bins that dwelt at Babylon, with several cases and 
 
DIVINITY. 1^5 
 
 and controversies concerning their Law, which re- 
 solutions some time after were collected into ano- 
 ther volume, and called Gemara, or Doctrine ; and 
 both together make the entire body of the Talmud, 
 the one being the text, the other the comment. 
 The Jews in all latter ages preferred this before 
 the Law, holding that of no use without this, it 
 being the explanation of it ; it being a little com- 
 mendation for a man toread the Bible; bat if he stu- 
 died the Mishna, he should receive eternal life by 
 it; that the Bible is like water, the Mishna like 
 wine, and the Talmud like spiced wine. 
 
 Quest. — What is the meaning of this passage in 
 the Proverbs, God hath made all things for him- 
 self, yea, even the wicked for the day of evil f" 
 
 Ans, — The design of it is to shew that God 
 has disposed all things in such a manner, as that 
 they shall answer one to another ; and that he has 
 so ordered his creation, that the wicked shall be 
 punished even by the course of nature. 
 
 Quest. — I would intreat you to resolve me 
 this question. Whether God brings judgments 
 upon the children for their parents' sins ; for 
 we read in the second commandment, that 
 the Lord is a jealous God, visiting the iniquity 
 of the fathers upon the children unto the third 
 and fourth generation and in Ezekiel, that the 
 
166 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 *' fathers have eaten sour grapes^ and the chil- 
 dren's teeth are set on edge/' 
 
 Ans. — We have innumerable instances of the 
 temporal afflictions that children have met with 
 for their parents' crimes, which, without a reform- 
 ation in them, are often entailed on many gene- 
 rations. And sometimes the examples of parents 
 so far influence their children, that they become 
 partakers of the same guilt ; but, except they 
 themselves do evil, they may be assured they 
 shall not suffer after this life, since we are expressly 
 told, every man shall answer for his own sins." 
 
 Quest, — It has been my misfortune to fall into 
 the company of some young sparks, who puzzle 
 me about the eternity of the world. They are men 
 whom, though I am of a contrary opinion, yet, I 
 cannot well confute. I therefore desire your assist- 
 ance, how i may answer them ? 
 
 Ans, — As for the eternity of the world, you 
 perhaps may have met with this argument, that 
 there is no annihilation of things, but a conti- 
 nual revolution and change of one thing into ano- 
 ther. There is no dealing with these sparks by 
 Scripture, which tells us that God made the world." 
 You must therefore confute them, from their own 
 principles, thus: The world was not from eternity 
 in that state we now find it ; which I prove thus : 
 Either the day was from eternity, or the night 
 was from eternity, or both together were from 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 1^7 
 
 eternity ; if only the day, then the night was not; 
 if only the night, then the day was not ; but they 
 could not be both together, since they are suc- 
 cessive of one another by twelve hours ; and 
 if we should admit the contradiction that they 
 were both together, it would yet prove our po- 
 sition, which says, the world was not from 
 eternity in the state we now find it ; for now 
 there is both day and night. And after the same 
 manner we may prove that winter and summer 
 have not been from eternity ; and, consequently, 
 not that revolution and change of things as was at 
 first alleged. Again, as to the eternity of men 
 upon the face of the earth, we deny it, and say, if 
 there have been successive generations of men 
 from eternity, it follows that there has been an 
 innumerable company of men who have lived 
 already ; for, if their number was certain and de- 
 terminate, we should come to the first man, and 
 so to the second, third, fourth, and so to the last ; 
 and if we have a first and a last, then eternity 
 loses its definition, as a duration without beginning 
 or ending. But the number of men which have 
 hitherto lived is not infinite, therefore men are 
 not from eternity. There wants only the minor 
 to be proved thus : A number greater than an infi- 
 nite number cannot be given, but we can give a 
 number greater than the men which have yet 
 lived, namely, the hairs of these men's heads ; 
 therefore the number of men which have lived i* 
 
16S 
 
 THE ATHExMAN ORACLE. 
 
 not infinite. Here the number of hairs contains 
 the number of men, and another greater number 
 over and above. Now, w^hatever is contained or 
 determined is finite, and what is finite is not in- 
 finite ; and, consequently, men have not been from 
 eternity. Besides, we having proved in the pre- 
 ceding argument that day and night have not 
 been from eternity ; it would be a hard task for 
 these gentlemen to p/ove in what other dimen- 
 sions of time those men lived in that were before 
 day and night. But, though there is little need 
 of it, we will give them another argument. Those 
 men that have yet lived have succeeded one ano- 
 ther either by a finite or infinite distance of time; 
 not by an infinite distance, as the succession of 
 families, to our knowledge, shews; therefore by a 
 finite distance; and infinity of duration cannot be 
 made of finite revolutions. 
 
 Quest. — Has Gunpowder or Printing done the 
 greatest mischief to the world ? 
 
 Ans. — Printincr has done both more service and 
 disservice to the world ; not only because Print- 
 ing was prior in acting, but also because its con- 
 sequences reach beyond the eflfects of gunpow- 
 der. As the cause is nobler than its eflfects. 
 Printing is more prejudicial than Gunpowder: 
 since Gunpowder would seldom be employed in 
 any great execution, if Printing did not first raise 
 such disputes and distractions as are the causes jof 
 wars and tumults. 
 
DIVINITY. 1 6*9 
 
 Quest. — How may we convince the Heathen 
 that our God is the true God, and their gods false 
 ones ? 
 
 Ans, — There are so many learned pens that have 
 undertaken this subject, especially that of Hugo 
 Grotius, that, if it was another subject, it would 
 savour of presumption to add more ; but, because 
 no pen can be barren in this great truth, I will 
 add something, perhaps, not generally observed. 
 To obey, to die, or to be changed, is inconsistent 
 with the essence of a Deity; yet the sun, sea^ stars, 
 and all the thirty thousand gods that Hesiod 
 mentions^ have received their appointed orders in 
 nature, which have been altered, inverted, and 
 sometimes destroyed, by their Author — which we 
 may call God, Nature, or what we please — and 
 this is the God we acknowledge. Again, that an 
 ox, a cat, an onion, &c. which have been wor- 
 shiped for gods, could not appoint their own being 
 is certain from this reason, that they could not act 
 before they had a being; and it would be against 
 their nature to invert, alter, or destroy their own 
 nature — which confirms the preceding hypo- 
 thesis. 
 
 Quest. — How a man shall know himself? 
 
 Ans. — Know your Creator, and this is one of 
 tVie best ways to know yourself. Almost all know- 
 ledge is acquired by comparison. After his image 
 you are made ; see then, if you would know your- 
 
170 THB ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 self, whether you are degenerated or really like your 
 great original. 
 
 Know other men, see their faults and virtues ; 
 apply them, and you may thence easily judge of 
 your own. 
 
 Know your enemies, and if possible what they 
 think and say of you. This is a much surer way 
 than to consult your friends; you will hear much 
 more from the first than the last. These are the 
 best directions we can give. 
 
 Quest. — Whether Satires or Sermons have 
 been more successful towards reforming men's 
 manners ? 
 
 Ans, — Some Sermons are Satires, and some Sa- 
 tires are Sermons. We will not be so unchari- 
 table as to say both are much alike, because the 
 world is incorrigible, and mind neither; but, tak- 
 ing them as they are commonly distinguished, I 
 desire one instance of a man lampooned out of 
 vice, though we have some few of those who have 
 been preached out of it. At least, I dare be bold 
 to say, our English way of Satire will hardly ever 
 do it, since it is for the most part like our fighting, 
 downright and bloody ; and that generally pleases 
 most which calls most hard names, which may 
 enrage a man and make him look about for suit- 
 able returns. It will make him angry, but never 
 make him better. 
 
DIVINITY. 171 
 
 Quest — How may we know the Scriptures to 
 be the word of God ? 
 
 Ans, — We have moral demonstration that they 
 are so, and that from these topicks. First, from 
 divine testimony, in those legible signatures and 
 impresses of Divinity instamped upon them. Some 
 directions for mankind are necessary, and those 
 such as shall remain standing rules. None can 
 compare with this, for antiquity, utility, gravity, 
 majesty. Nor is that strange effect these writ- 
 ings have in the minds of men in the perusing of 
 them, both Heathens and Christians, an argument 
 to be slighted. As for human testimony, we have 
 that which is to us satisfactory; namely, the con- 
 current tradition of all places and ages, which 
 have delivered down these books to us as the work 
 of inspired men ; and we may challenge all the 
 enemies of those Sacred books to produce^ in one 
 instance, a matter of fact attested on this manner 
 that is not true. If there have been some men 
 who have either denied or lessened the authority 
 of these books, or added others to them which 
 they would pretend of equal authority, even this 
 is a strong argument of the truth of those Sacred 
 Writings, since such accidents as these are clearly 
 prophesied of, and provided against, therein. But 
 we have, besides all this, the progress of the Gospel, 
 and the sufferings of the Martyrs, to witness the 
 same undeniable truth. For how should the doc- 
 trines contained in these books make such a pro- 
 
172 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 gress though the world without force, nay, in 
 spite of it, and in contradiction to all the proud 
 affected learning of Greece and Rome ? and why 
 should the wisest, and best, and bravest of men, 
 many thousands of millions of them, endure the 
 severest torments for what was contained therein, 
 had there not been something extraordinary, and 
 confessing a divine power, which first dictated it, 
 which has still preserved it, and which will do so 
 to the end of the world. 
 
 Quest, — If the Scriptures be the word of God, 
 how is it that they are not more plain, so as to 
 prevent that variety of interpretation, which, in- 
 stead of promoting peace and love, involves us in 
 contention, enmity, and division ? 
 
 j4ns, — The variety of interpretations are no pre- 
 judice against it ; for, as the most exact rule in the 
 world will appear crooked if beheld through a 
 wrong medium, so it is here ; the fault is not in 
 the Scriptures, but in the vitiated judgments or 
 passions of men : for the diversity of opinions is 
 only accidental, as sin had never been in the 
 world had not God made men. Do we question 
 Acts of Parliament to be really the King's and 
 Kingdom's word, because their meaning is some- 
 times disputed ? It will be urged, God could have 
 made them otherwise; it may be true, but then he 
 must have made man otherwise, and so made him 
 not a man, which he had not been if not free and 
 
DIVINITY. 173 
 
 rational, and while so he can neither be com- 
 pelled in his faith nor actions. And, being thus 
 free, it is impossible any proposition can be formed 
 which is not in his power, verbally at least, to 
 deny, and do this so long till at last he may really 
 doubt of it, though never so self-evident, much 
 more in what is only revealed. He may, he does, 
 abuse God's name every day, and it is no wonder 
 if he does as much by his word. We find those 
 who, at least in word?, deny his very essence ; 
 and we may as well argue there is no God, no Re- 
 ligion, natural or revealed, because all these are 
 abused, and made the occasions, or at least pre- 
 tences, of confusion and discord, as that the Holy 
 Scriptures are not God's word. For the same reason 
 we must look into the natural and direct tendency 
 of these Sacred Writings, and what they would 
 certainly produce if their directions were practised, 
 which it is our faults if they are not, if we would 
 form a right judgment of them, and discern whe- 
 ther they are of God. Now nothing can be plainer, 
 than that they every where inculcate peace, and 
 love, and unity; and particularly in the New Tes- 
 tament. And what can bear more leojible marks 
 of Divinity, than such writings as, if they were 
 followed, would make man so like God, and earth 
 like heaven ? And if they have not these effects, 
 we may blame ourselves. Whatever is funda- 
 mental or necessary to salvation is plainly taught 
 in the Scriptures ; and if, instead of believing and 
 
174 THE ATHENIAN ORACI-E. 
 
 practising them, we will eternally quarrel about 
 some little shibboleths, which sometimes we find, 
 but oftener make in them, let us not find fault 
 with them, but amend ourselves according to 
 those excellent rules which are there given us. 
 
 Quest, — Our Saviour says, for every idle word 
 we shall give an account of in the day of judg- 
 ment." Pray, the meaning of it ? 
 
 Ans, — The meaning of the term " idle word," 
 cannot be, as some weak persons have mistaken 
 it, every word which tends not to some spiritual 
 edification ; but every wicked blasphemous word, 
 as the context shews; our Saviour having been 
 discoursing of the Pharisees blaspheming him and 
 saying, " he cast out demons by Belzebub.*" 
 
 Quest, — What is the true meaning of the word 
 Superstition ? 
 
 Ans, — Supra, or super statutum in Civil Law ; 
 it comes from beyond or above the Statute. In 
 Divinity it means a necessary observance of those 
 indifferent things which God had neither com- 
 manded nor forbidden ; as, for instance, it is su- 
 perstition to believe the wearing of a surplice in 
 religious worship a sin, because God has not for- 
 bidden it ; and it is superstition to believe the^not 
 wearing it a sin, because God has not commanded 
 it, And so in meats, times, &c. 
 
DIVINITY. 175 
 
 Quest, — I request that you would reconcile the 
 seeming contradictions in the Four Evangelists 
 about the Suffering of our Saviour ? 
 
 Ans. — They all four agree in the principal 
 circumstances of this history, except one, wherein 
 St. Mark and St. John seem differently to relate 
 the time of his Crucifixion. They unanimously 
 say, that darkness covered the whole earth from 
 the sixth hour until the ninth hour, during which 
 time the Saviour of the world was nailed to the 
 cross. But St. John says, it was about the sixth 
 hour that Pilate was still sitting upon his tribunal, 
 and said, after having scourged Jesus with rods. 
 
 Behold your King," John xix. I4 ; and St. 
 Mark xv. 25, " Now it was the third hour, and 
 they crucified him." We might here make some 
 remarks upon the original and invention of hours, 
 of their division into four quarters of three hours 
 each, into double hours, six of which made a 
 day; upon the four watches of the night, and the 
 common division of the day into morning, noon, 
 and evening ; and of the manner of beginning the 
 day, and correcting the hour samong the Jews — 
 but that the digression would be too tedious for 
 this place, and therefore we should omit it, and 
 endeavour to reconcile them in as brief terms as 
 we can. The Jews assembled early in the morn- 
 ing to consult how they might destroy Jesus, 
 and resolved in this assembly to accuse him be- 
 fore the Governor. And this accusation was 
 
17^ THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 made at the third hour, or at the ninth in the 
 morning, which is a circumstance that none of 
 the Evangelists but St. Mark has precisely ob- 
 served. So that these words, " now it was the 
 third hour," ought to be considered as a paren- 
 thesis, which relates to what preceded ; as if the 
 Sacred Historian, after having related their accu- 
 sations asfainst our Saviour, and the sentence that 
 Pilate pronounced upon him before he passed to 
 the Crucifixion, which was the consequence of it, 
 designed to speak of the time in which Jesus was 
 brought before the Governor. It is by a like me- 
 thod that the same Evangelist concludes the Cru- 
 cifixion, ver. 33 : " Now, the sixth hour being 
 come, there was darkness over the whole land un- 
 til the ninth hour." As this expression did not 
 signify that the Crucifixion, and all the circum- 
 stances of it which St. Mark had related, were 
 passed before the sixth hour; but, on the contrary, 
 that they began at that time : so these words, 
 " now it was the third hour," that our Evangelist 
 speaks, after having given the history of the 
 Jewish process against Jesus, signifies that he en- 
 tered at the ninth hour in the morning — and 
 it was about the ninth hour that the Romans used 
 to give audience. And in respect to St. John's 
 manner of speaking, that it was about the sixth 
 hour when Pilate said to the Jews, Behold your 
 King," we think no one can make any difficulty 
 of it, since every one knows that, in our vulgar 
 
DIVINITY. 1 77 
 
 language we say it is about noon, although it be 
 but a little past eleven, or near one, and in the 
 space of ntar two hours many things miglit pass. 
 
 Quest. — Whether it be a sin to deceive the 
 deceiver ? 
 
 Ans. — Yes ; for although circumstances may 
 make an action more or less sinful, yet they 
 change not the nature of sin, for deceit is deceit, 
 though used to a deceiver. The command is po- 
 sitive : " Let no man defraud or circumvent his 
 brother,'* &c. There is no limitation or exception 
 made, unless he be a deceiver. 
 
 Quest. — What was the mark God set upon 
 Cain ? 
 
 jlns. — The Rabbins say, that his flesh was 
 crusted, and made invulnerable; and that Lamech, 
 when he killed him, wounded hinj in the eye. I 
 know a gentleman whose misfortune it was to kill 
 his friend in a duel — and honourably, according to 
 that notion the world now has of honour ; and 
 though upon his trial he came off with his life, 
 yet the action made such impression upon his 
 spirits that he (?arries a visible mark of horror and 
 disturbance in his countenance to this day; and 
 such an one that causes many thinking persons 
 that are strangers to him to take a particular no- 
 tice of him when they meet him. One, among 
 the rest, meeting hi;n in my company ; psilled m<? 
 
I7S THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 bv the arm to take notice of him ; and when he 
 was passed by, told me, that gentleman has the 
 character of Cain legibly written in his face." I 
 told my friend, he had unfortunately killed a 
 man." My friend replied, " he did not know it 
 before I told him." I am persuaded that this 
 was Cain's mark. 
 
 Quest. — Why one hour s sermon seems longer 
 than two hour s conversation r 
 
 Ans. — For several unlucky reasons. Some- 
 times because the sermon may be duller than the 
 conversation ; at others, because the hearer is dull 
 himself, and has not the wit to like it. Sometimes 
 because those in the pulpit talk all, and talk 
 sense ; when in conversation, those who love it 
 may hear their own dear selves talk as much and 
 as impertinently as they please ; and, besides, have 
 the liberty of contradiction, the very life and soul 
 of some people. But the most general reason for 
 this sad truth is, the almost universal decay of 
 piety, added to the adverseness which the best 
 men find in their minds towards acts of devotion, 
 till conquered by industry and pains. Where 
 men are truly pious and religious, -they think no 
 entertainment in the world comparable to that 
 wherein they may be taught the way of happi- 
 ness; nor will they easily be tired with what 
 affords them at the same time so much of profit 
 and pleasure. 
 
DIVINITY. 179 
 
 Quest. — Why does our Saviour use that odd 
 similitude of a camel's going through the eye of a 
 needle ? and what is the genuine meaning of that 
 text ? 
 
 ^ns. — The proverbs of all nations are said to 
 contain the greatest part of their experience and 
 wisdom ; and this similitude, most Commentator*^ 
 agree, is founded on a proverb of the Jews. Some 
 say, it alludes to a very strait low gate in Jeru- 
 salem, called The Needle-gate, through which the 
 camels could never pass without first unloading 
 their burdens ; which, if true, were a beautiful 
 and apposite simile. But we doubt this is rather 
 a witty than a true interpretation. The learned 
 and indefatigable Bochart has another interpreta- 
 tion. He tells us, in his dissertation concerning 
 the Camel, that the word gamal," which signi- 
 fies a camel, is also interpreted a cable ; and says 
 it is a common proverb among the Eastern na- 
 tions when they speak of an impossibility — that 
 it is easier for a cable to be threaded through the 
 eye of a needle, which is a very proper and apt 
 simile ; and this of the two I esteem the more 
 natural interpretation, leaving the Reader to em- 
 brace which he pleases. 
 
 Q7/e^^. —Whether Virtue and Goodness, or 
 Prudence, be any defence against misfortune ? 
 or whether virtuous and good men are not equally 
 liable to misery and distress as the worst of men ? 
 
l80 
 
 THE ATllESlAN ORACLE. 
 
 What is the meaning of that common proverb^ 
 " God never sends mouths, but he sends meat ?*' 
 and how does he provide for men in misery and 
 distress ? how does he feed the hungry, clothe the 
 naked, and take care of virtuous and good men r 
 
 Ans, — That Virtue and Goodness, generally 
 speaking, are a defence, though Prudence must 
 be used : — That God does take care of the good, 
 and defend and provide for them, otherwise there 
 could be no providence, and then no God : — That 
 virtuous men are for these reasons less hable to 
 misfortunes than the wicked ; — nay, that God by 
 his common providence makes provision for all 
 his creatures. — If fact be brought against this, 
 we have this to say upon it — that oftentimes those 
 are not good men, but hypocrites, who are mise- 
 rable; that, if generally good, they may yet in some 
 things be faulty, and for that be for a time pu- 
 nished to make them better ; that, if they neglect 
 prudent means to obtain or preserve a share in the 
 necessaries of life, or imprudently and unnecessa- 
 riljr draw a greater charge on themselves than 
 they can maintain, they must blame themselves, 
 not Providence; that, in some instances of com- 
 mon calamities, the good can no more expect to 
 be always preserved, than from sickness, pain, or 
 the other natural inconveniences of life; that, not- 
 withstanding all this, a fervent devotion, and ge- 
 nerous trust on God's mercies, promises, and pro- 
 vidences, are not in vain, but they often deliver 
 
DIVINITY. l8l 
 
 out of misery and distress ; and none know that 
 they shall not while there is life, for so long there 
 is hope ; and when once the happy turn comes, 
 the former uneasy circumstances render the pre- 
 sent much more pleasure and welcome ; that, if all , 
 fails, there is another world, which, if those who 
 are afflicted in this do not believe, nay, are not 
 wiUing to wait for, they are not patient, they are 
 not good, they have no share in this particular 
 providence of God, they themselves vindicate his 
 justice, and destroy their own argument. 
 
 Quest. — Whether Peter, or Paul, or any of the 
 Apostles, used notes in their preaching? 
 
 Ans, — No; nor Bibles neither to put their 
 notes in. They had not so much as texts, as we 
 see by most if not all their Sermons recorded in 
 the Scripture. They had no pulpits, nor several 
 other things that are in use among us. But what 
 consequence can be drawn from all this — these 
 being only such circumstances as enter not at all 
 into the nature of the thing? Such notes as we 
 have, they could not probably have; our way of 
 writing not being then, at least not so commonly, 
 in fashion ; for Zachary, when he would express 
 his mind, asked not for pen, ink, and paper, but 
 for a writing-table, though, it is true, the other 
 way too was sometimes used. But, as the Apos- 
 tles used no notes, so neither did they study their 
 Sermons beforehand, nor need they to do it, the 
 
l83 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 giftof preaching beingone of those miraculous gifts 
 at that time bestowed upon the Church of God. 
 As for notes or no notes, it may not be unenter- 
 taining to discourse a little farther, though be- 
 yond the question, in reference to the present 
 custom of the nation. It is known that our Mi- 
 nisters began to write their Sermons first about the 
 time of the Reformation, when their enemies ac- 
 cused them for preaching seditiously ; for which 
 reason they penned down all that they spoke, to 
 produce their notes if there should be occasion. 
 And finding this to be an advantage, as to the 
 closeness of their discourses, and more correct 
 expression, they have ever since continued it, and 
 that to so good purpose, that the English Sermons 
 are now the best in the world. But there are dif- 
 ferent ways of using notes in preaching. To have 
 them in the pulpit for an assistance to the me- 
 mory, which he that comes without must be a 
 bold man ; or to use them entirely, without 
 at all trusting to the memory, and here we ac- 
 knowledge a Sermon generally appears with much 
 more life when the preacher s eye is not chained 
 to the book ; and the custom of thus preaching 
 making the thing in time much more easy than at 
 first it appears. But then, on the contrary, to 
 get all by heart is a great slavery, and takes up 
 so much time from other studies, that we question 
 whether it will be always worth the while to do 
 it. Upon the whole, though the common people 
 
DIVINITY. 183 
 
 would never think St. Paul preached a good Ser- 
 mon, unless, as some of them call it, he read it 
 every word without a book ; yet all those who are 
 worth pleasing had rather hear a piece of good 
 sense and close discourse read to them out of the 
 pulpit than a mass of rambling nonsense with- 
 out book ever so volubly tumbled over. 
 
 Quest. — How far is a Sabbath-day's Journey, 
 which we often find mentioned in the Scriptures? 
 
 Ans. — About seven of the Hebrew furlongs, 
 much the same with the old Roman mile, con- 
 taining a thousand of the Hebrew greater feet, 
 two thousand of their lesser. 
 
 Quest. — When were public places of worship 
 first built, and who was the founder of them ? 
 
 Ans. — Lactantius and many others believe it 
 was a little after the building of Babel, and that 
 Ninus was the first who about that time set up 
 statues in memory of Jupiter and Juno, and Be- 
 lus his father, which statues were set up over their 
 sepulchres, and divine honours offered them, and, 
 in process of time, inclosed within stately build- 
 ings, which were called their temples, and built 
 within consecrated groves. Such were the tem- 
 ples of Vulcan in Sicily, Cybele in the grove of 
 Ida, Jupiter in the grove of Dodona, and of 
 Apollo in the grove of Daphne. These dark 
 groves struck a terror in the worshippers; and, 
 
l84 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 because they had continual hghts burning in 
 them, they were called hici a lucendo, after 
 which they became places of refuge, which use 
 some beheve was first invented by the children of 
 Hercules, to secure themselves from those their 
 father had oppressed. 
 
 Quest. — What condition is the most eligible 
 for assisting us to be wise and virtuous ? 
 
 Am, — A poor man, being loaded with misery, 
 thinks of nothing but how to live ; and so far is 
 poverty from being a help to virtue, that it fre- 
 quently makes men despise laws, and, through 
 their misery, abandon themselves to rage and de- 
 spair; and, in hopes of some redress, they become 
 mutinous, seditious, and guilty of thefts, mur- 
 ders, and all manner of outrages, having nothing 
 to lose but their unhappy lives, by venturing of 
 which they expect to gain some little change in 
 their fortunes and quiet. And as for the rich 
 man, our Saviour tells us, " it is easier for a camel, 
 or cable-rope, to go through the eye of a needle 
 than for such an one to enter into the kingdom of 
 Heaven the fullness of his condition affording 
 him so many diversions from his duty^ that it is 
 almost impossible for him to find the path of vir- 
 tue ; and, therefore, we often see riches attended 
 with vanity, luxury, and effeminacy, all which are 
 enemies to science. So that the middle condition, 
 where there is a sufficient fortune to allow the ne- 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 185 
 
 cessary means for knowledge, and to encourage a 
 virtuous life, being free from those inconveniences 
 and temptations which riches and poverty abound 
 with, is the most to be desired, and Hkeliest, as we 
 generally see, to produce these happy effects. 
 
 Quest, — Whether a Dissenter is a Schismatic, 
 notwithstanding his liberty by law ? 
 
 Am. — A Christian becomes not more or less 
 Christian by being a National one, as to the es- 
 sence of Reliorion : but if a National Church 
 agrees in doctrine with the doctrine of Christ, and 
 Dissenters ag^ree in doctrine with the National 
 Church, neither of them are Schismatics from the 
 doctrine or Church of Christ; and it was the doc- 
 trinal part of Religion which Christ promised to 
 be withal, so that the gates of Hell should not 
 prevail against it. But, if a National Church 
 makes the terms of her communion political, 
 another Church, dependent on her, may dissent 
 from such political terms, if the Magistrate gives 
 the libertv, without Schism. 
 
 Quest. — In Ephes. iv. '26, we are exhorted "to 
 be angry, and sin not now when can a man be 
 said to be angry, without sin ? 
 
 Ans, — When the cause of his anger is lawful 
 and reasonable, and when it does not transport 
 him so far as to make him forget his being a ra- 
 tional creature and a Christian. The truth is, 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 there are but very few cases wherein a person can 
 well be angry at all ; but he may be allowed most 
 warmth, when either he does himself, or sees others 
 do, any thing that tends to the dishonour of God 
 and Religion. 
 
 Quest, — Why our blessed Saviour loved St. 
 John best, when St. Peter loved the Saviour 
 
 most ? 
 
 Ans, — St. John appears to have had more ra- 
 tional love of our Saviour than St. Peter, whose 
 zeal for him seems to have been chiefly grounded 
 on the mistaken notion of his countrymen, that 
 he was to be a Temporal Messiah, to conquer 
 kingdoms, and make his Apostles Viceroys all 
 over the world. Besides, St. John was related to 
 our Saviour, and of more agreeable temper than 
 St. Peter, who was warm and hasty, though well- 
 meaning and honest. 
 
 Quest, — It is known that all Nations have 
 believed something of God : but how far may a 
 general agreement be said to be a proof of that 
 important doctrine ? 
 
 Ans, — ^This testimony is of very great force, 
 whether it be considered in itself, or in respect of 
 its origin. Lactantius thought it so good a proof, 
 that, having cited a great many both Heathen 
 and Christian Authors against the Atheists, he 
 urges the consent of all people and nations, many 
 
DIVINITY. 187 
 
 of which, although they differed almost in every 
 thing else, yet generally agreed in the belief of a Di- 
 vinity. By an ancient Philosopher, probable things 
 have been ranked in this order: — That whatever 
 seems true to some learned persons is in some 
 sort probable ; what appears so to the generality 
 of some learned men is more probable ; but that 
 in which all men agree is in the highest degree 
 of probability, and approaches very near to those 
 truths which may be demonstrated ; so that he 
 might very justly pass for an extravagant person, 
 who should have the boldness to deny it. There 
 is no man in the world, who, by his single 
 judgment can balance the constant authority of 
 all mankind. If any person should, through a 
 contradictious spirit, or by any other motive, 
 affirm that snow is black, that motion is impos- 
 sible, or that two contradictory propositions may 
 be true in the same time ; there would be no other 
 way to refute him, but to oppose to him the uni- 
 versal consent of all men ; and if he refused to 
 agree to it, he ought to be looked upon either 
 with pity or contempt. He had need have very 
 powerful and clear reasons, who should resist the 
 common opinion of all men, and equally accuse 
 them of error. Several Heathen Philosophers 
 have looked upon this common agreement as a 
 considerable argument. " The consent of all men,'* 
 says Seneca, is of very great weight to us : a 
 mark that a thing is true, is when it appears so 
 
188 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORAf LK. 
 
 to all the world ; thus, we conclude there is a 
 Divinity, because all men believe it ; there being 
 no nation, how corrupt soever they be, which 
 deny it/* Cicero has said the same thing in se- 
 veral places, and has observed, that, although 
 many Nations have had extravagant opinions of 
 the Divinity, yet they all agreed in the belief 
 that there is an eternal power, on whom we 
 depend." — " In the hottest disputes," says Maxi- 
 mus of Tyre, " in the deepest contest, and in 
 the diversity of opinions which are amongst men, 
 we see a doctrine established throughout the 
 
 CD 
 
 earth, which is, that there is a God, who is king 
 and father of all men. It is what is confessed by 
 all the world, both learned and ignorant." There 
 are many such instances, where the general con- 
 sent has been thought a good argument for the 
 being of a God. It is true, there has been a few 
 men who have contradicted the universal consent ; 
 but these may be considered as monsters. If we 
 consider the origin of this universal opinion, we 
 shall still better perceive its force; for it can 
 only have taken its rise from one of these four 
 things. First, either it must be united to the 
 understanding, like to the most evident prin- 
 ciples of the sciences, and the inclination we have 
 to be happy ; or else that we have a natural dis- 
 position to embrace this opinion as soon as it is 
 proposed to us, as our eyes are naturally disposed 
 to perceive the light when it appears ; or some 
 
DiVtNITY. 189 
 
 powerful reason, which presents itself to the 
 mind of all men, even of the most ignorant. 
 Or, lastly, fronj ancient tradition, which came 
 from one and the same source, which has dis- 
 persed this opinion throuoh all the earth. We 
 cannot imagine any other way whereby this opi- 
 nion should he introduced amongst all men, who 
 are so much inclined to think diversely of one 
 and the same thing; and whichsoever of them 
 we choose, the argument is equally strong and 
 conclusive. If it is from the light of nature, it is as 
 extravagant to deny it, as it would be to say that 
 the most evident principles of the sciences are 
 false. If it is said, that it is by a natural dispo- 
 sition that men believe there is a God, why 
 should we resist an inclination of nature, since its 
 motions never deceive us ? Or, if it is agreed 
 that there is a powerful reason which persuades 
 all men of it, we must renounce common sense if 
 we refuse to assent to it. But if it is said that 
 man received this knowledge from an ancient 
 tradition, which indeed appears most probable, it 
 must be enquired from whence this tradition 
 came, and who was the common master of all 
 mankind. We very well know the names of 
 those who have introduced any sect, or engaged 
 people in certain opinions ; but we find neither 
 the name of him who is pretended to have in- 
 vented this doctrine, nor the place nor time in 
 which he has lived, nor the manner whereby ft 
 
100 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 was introduced and dispersed amongst men. 
 It is this which makes us believe that the authora 
 of this tradition are our first parents ; who, as 
 they could not be ignorant of their origin, so 
 undoubtedly they taught this truth to their chil- 
 dren. It is natural to conceive that it was by 
 this means all men had learned it. This thought 
 leads us to another, which is of very great im- 
 portance in this matter : it is, that all men have 
 descended from one man only, or at least from a 
 small number of persons who were all together; 
 from whence it will appear, that man had a 
 beginning, and that we cannot reject the doctrine 
 of the existence of a God as a political fiction ; 
 for, supposing man to have a beginning upon 
 earth, from whence could he originate but from 
 such a Divinity as we conceive of? What other 
 being could have formed such admirable bodies 
 as ours, and united such intelligences to them as 
 our souls ? Let those who deny this tell us also 
 who taught the first men there was a God ; and 
 how it came into their mind, that they drew 
 their existence from Him, if He who made them 
 had not discovered to them, after a sensible 
 manner, that it was to Him they owed their 
 being ? And since it is what they taught to their 
 posterity, we have no reason to refuse our belief, 
 nor can we imagine any witnesses worthy of faith, 
 nor men who can give us a better account of 
 their origin than themselves: therefore we cannot 
 
DIVINITY. 191 
 
 reasonably reject a tradition which came from 
 them. 
 
 Quest, — Considering we live in an age when 
 men's opinions as to matters of faith are various, 
 how shall we behave in respect to those who 
 differ from us, as not only to avoid error, but 
 also to prevent ourselves from rashly censuring 
 and condemning those who embrace not the same 
 opinion as we do ? 
 
 /Ins. — We ought to keep to the plain text of 
 Scripture, and affirm nothing as necessary to sal- 
 vation which is not clearly revealed in it, with- 
 out permitting ourselves to draw far-fetched or 
 too subtle consequences from thence, or engage 
 ourselves in metaphysical arguments about things 
 which are above our reach. And this method might 
 make us more charitable too, and less censorious 
 of others ; because the many controversies which 
 divide us are commonly upon such things as the 
 Scripture has not clearly decided in favour of 
 either party ; the errors we ascribe to one ano- 
 ther often respecting the manner of things, 
 which in many cases Holy Writ has not de- 
 termined. 
 
 Quest. — Though I am satisfied the Christian 
 Religion does directly tend to the happiness of 
 mankind both here and hereafter, yet I desire 
 your answer to this question — Whether, since it 
 
igt THE ATHENIAN ORACl.E. 
 
 has gained the civil power, it has been the occa- 
 sion of more good or harm ? 
 
 Ans. — The Christian ReHgion can never be 
 said to have been the necessary and proper cause 
 of any evil, or to have given any just occasion for 
 it — not but that occasion may have been taken, 
 where none has been really given. At least this 
 is certain, that what is good can have no real or 
 necessary effect on the productions of evil ; though 
 evil may accidentally cleave to its productions, as 
 sin came first into the world ; and, as our Saviour 
 says, he came not to send peace, but a sword. 
 It is we, then, who are called Christians, that 
 have been the real causes of those evils which 
 have disturbed the world since Christianity came 
 into it; for to think that itself has been the just 
 occasion of them, is as false in morals, as the old 
 Heathen calumny was against them in natural 
 evils, when they used to charge the Christians as 
 the causes of droughts and earthquakes, and all 
 public calamities. What mischief has been, is 
 owing to the want of Christianity, not to the 
 profession of it. And those who make this ob- 
 jection ought to consider the consequence of it ; 
 for, if the Christian Religion has been an evil to 
 the world since it has been supported by the 
 civil authority, it is plain that it must be owing 
 to the authority, not to the Religion, unless we 
 suppose a good thing can change its nature, and 
 
DIVINITY. 193 
 
 grow mischievous, merely because lawful autho- 
 rity does establish and defend it. 
 
 But we are inclined to believe there has been 
 few^r mischiefs in the world since Christianity 
 came to be established than there were before, as 
 bad as we are, and so much degenerated from the 
 primitive Christians, though Christianity is still 
 the same. Many bad customs and usages have 
 been broken by Christian Emperors — ^as the bloody 
 sports of the theatres and gladiators ; the public 
 allowance of the stews, and shameful tribute for 
 them ; but, besides the abrogation of these and 
 other bad customs, many excellent and whole- 
 some laws have been made by Christian Em- 
 perors, and even a body of such laws collected 
 by one of them, as were useful to the common- 
 wealth, which are, as it were, the standard of 
 equity through a great part of the world. If it 
 be objected that Christianity has been the occa- 
 sion of much war and bloodshed, it is easily and 
 justly answered, in the words of St. James, that 
 " these things had quite another origin. Is it 
 not from those lusts which war in your mem- 
 bers?" the lust of empire, of glory, interest, 
 or the like, generally being the cause, whatever 
 is pretended. 
 
 Still there is nothing in the Christian Religion 
 that in the least warrants or encourages any ill 
 practices, but quite the contrary ; being undoubt- 
 edly the best institution in the world ; and by 
 
 o 
 
IQ4 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 how much any communion deviates from charity 
 and mercy, by so much the farther are they 
 removed from true Christianity, and nearer the 
 Rehgion of the Heathens, which was really bloody 
 and barbarous, whose very sacrifices and highest 
 mysteries were lewdness and murder. 
 
 Quest. — I have long indulged myself in a rest- 
 less habit, which I now find contradictory to my 
 reason, and would leave it. I will not be parti- 
 cular, because the answer may be of use to others, 
 who are not without the allurement of some dar- 
 ling sin. Query, what is a habit, whether to 
 be overcome, and by what methods ? 
 
 A71S, — Habit, or an inclination to a given action, 
 generated by frequent repetition of either vice or 
 virtue, is caused by a repetition of vicious or vir- 
 tuous acts. There was a time before the first of 
 these acts which constitute the habit began. 
 Now, when the first temptation was oflfered, it 
 was either in our power to withstand it, or not. 
 If out of our power, then we are forced, by a 
 necessity of sinning, from God, or else by our 
 own irresistible weakness. Not the first, because 
 God cannot be the author of sin ; nor the last, 
 because as yet we were not weakened by the 
 habit of it; so that it follows, the first act was 
 in our power. This proved, I shall further pre- 
 mise, that the general is of the same nature with 
 all the particulars of which it is constituted, or it 
 could be no general made up of those particulars* 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 As, for instance, a habit of supposing twenty 
 repetitions, the last is constituted of the nature 
 and guilt of the preceding nineteen ; and itself, 
 and so downward, till you come to the first, 
 which, as is proved, was once in your power to 
 have withstood it ; and if the first, the second 
 must also be in your power, because it is part of 
 the first, only something less, and weakened by 
 guilt, yet not destroyed, nor can ever be abso- 
 lutely destroyed. Any person, let his habit in 
 vice be ever so strong, if he is not given over to 
 a judicially reprobate mind, may, by the assist- 
 ance of Heaven, reclaim and undo all his wicked 
 customs in vice. It holds also in virtue, wherein 
 a habit is stronger in the last act than the pre- 
 ceding one, but yet of the same nature, and so 
 downward to the first, where we shall find our 
 own power, for so we may call what is given us, 
 eflfectually co-operating with the grace of God ; 
 which we may resist, for we are not forced into 
 good actions any more than vicious ones, for that 
 would destroy rewards and punishments : from 
 whence it also follows, that a habit of virtue may 
 be lost, and the grace of God extinguished in us, 
 which is plainly supposed in Ezekiel, xviii. 2 ; 
 2 Pet. ii. 20, 2 1 , 22, and several other texts. There 
 are only two texts from the Scriptures that are 
 brought to prove the impossibility of leaving off 
 habits of vice and virtue. The first is, Can the 
 leopard change its spots, and the Ethiopian his 
 
 O 2 
 
IQG the ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 skin? then may ye also do good that are accus- 
 tomed to do evil and the other is, " He that is 
 born of God sinneth not, for his seed remaineth 
 in him ; and he cannot sin, because he is born of 
 God." Both whicli places only shew that it is 
 a very unusual, dilhcult matter, to do it. The 
 first of these texts ought not to render us des- 
 perate, nor the last secure; for they express no 
 more than that generally it is so, but not always, 
 as other testimonies of Sacred Writ, and the fre- 
 quent instances we meet do evince the contrary. 
 
 Having shown what habit is, and that it may 
 be broken, it only remains to lay down the me- 
 thod how. A habit always has its contrary, and 
 may be broken by the use of those methods which 
 contribute its contrary, or by removing the occa- 
 sions by which it is increased and continued. As, 
 for instance, a fire is extinguished by water, or 
 by not applying fuel to feed it. Ambition, re- 
 venge, passion, and all other eflfects of pride, are 
 the best overcome by practising acts of self- 
 resignation, and subjection to Divine Providence. 
 One of the ancient Philosophers used himself to 
 beg alms of statues ; and being asked the reason, 
 said he, I am learning patience by denial." 
 A seeking of all opportunities of being denied, 
 disappointed, abused, and affronted, and at the 
 same time resolving to hear it, quickly alters the 
 man, and roots out the above-mentioned effects 
 of pride. It is a method God approves, and 
 
DIVINITY. 1P7 
 
 often makes use of, when he reclaims such peo- 
 ple by sickness, afflictions, &c. Again, is the 
 habit drunkenness, gluttony, idleness, or un- 
 cleanness ? the cure is, by practising teniperance 
 and chastity. But in these and such-like cases, 
 where the flesh is concerned, our Divines have 
 well inculcated, that it is safer to flee than fight; 
 not once to hear reasons of either side upon any 
 suggestion, but to drive it out of your mind by 
 going about some business, or entering into some 
 good company ; and, when the temptation is oflT, 
 to fortify yourself by reason, prayer, and reso- 
 lution not to comply. Examples are of great 
 use; read Augustine*s Confessions. And so it is 
 possible, in all habits, to get the mastery. What 
 is more tyrannical than the passion of love ? and 
 yet how easily overcome, by avoiding the occa- 
 sions that excite it, as converse with the object, 
 or by representing the ingratitude, weakness, &c. 
 of the party beloved ! In short, get but a true in- 
 formed j udgment, the art of knowing things as they 
 really are in their own nature, and the business is 
 almost done. To be master of one's self and ha- 
 bits, it is indispensably necessary that our 
 thoughts be good and regular, which is eflfected 
 by good converse either with books or persons. 
 Hence we may know ourselves, and adapt par- 
 ticular remedies to our weaknesses, for there is 
 nothing impossible that is necessary to the accom- 
 plishment of our happiness. 
 
 1. 
 
198 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest, — Whether the soul is eternal, or pre- 
 existent from the Creation, or contemporary with 
 its embryo ? 
 
 j4ns. — Souls are not eternal, for then they 
 would be gods, and not created beings, creation 
 supposing a commencement of time. Nor is the 
 creation of souls contemporary with any of the six 
 days labours ; because it is as impossible they should 
 be idle, being pure acts, as it is impossible for 
 the fire not to burn. But no person could ever 
 yet produce one instance of their pre-existent 
 acting ; nor will the maintainers of pre-existence 
 find any service in that text : " And in the 
 sixth day God ended his work, which he had 
 made;" for though it be literally true quoad 
 Deum, to whom time past, present, and to 
 come, is the same, yet it is not so qiwd homi- 
 nem, for we see daily many immediate instances 
 of the Almighty's works, which have not been 
 left to the established order of nature and second 
 causes. Besides, it is observable, that though 
 Adam was the last of the creation, yet his soul 
 was made after his body, as may be gathered 
 from the order of the words ; namely, " And the 
 Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, 
 and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, 
 and he became a living soul." Hence we conclude, 
 that the soul is only contemporary with its embryo, 
 since there can be no demonstration made of its 
 actings prior to what are apparent in that organ. 
 
DIVINITV. 
 
 Quest, — What is the soul of man, and whether 
 eternal ? 
 
 Ans, — It is a known story of the Philosopher, 
 who, being asked what God was, took at first a 
 day to answer it ; and when that was elapsed, 
 demanded still more time for the resolution ; till 
 at length he was compelled to acknowledge it was 
 an unfathomable depth, wherein he might soon lose 
 himself, but never find a bottom. The excellent 
 Epictetus thus accosted his friend : Thy reason 
 makes thee a-kin to God ; see that thou do nothing 
 unworthy so great a Relation." If, then, the soul 
 be like God, it must be difficult to find that out 
 to perfection, though something may be known 
 of it, as well as its Maker. An exact definition 
 cannot be given. Some tolerable description, 
 then, will be as far as we shall pretend to advance ; 
 but therein hope to give more distinct notion of 
 the thing than is usually given, asserting nothing 
 but what is or shall be made intelligible, and 
 that from such principles as are either agreed 
 upon by all sects in Philosophy, or have the un- 
 doubted suflFrage of experience or common reason, 
 and which we hope will be able to solve most of 
 the objections — requiring thus much justice of 
 the Reader, not to condemn any thing before he 
 has thoroughly considered it ; and then, readily 
 granting him the philosophical liberty of making 
 what objections he pleases. 
 
200 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Our notion, then, of the soul of man is, that 
 it is an immaterial substance, made after the 
 image of God, which, together with a rightly 
 organized body, constitutes a man ; the explana- 
 tion whereof \yill, we hope, give a tolerable reso- 
 lution of this grand question. 
 
 The soul is a substance, which we prove by the 
 definition of a substance ; a thing subsisting by 
 itself, and subject to accidents. That the soul 
 subsists by itself will be granted, if we can prove 
 that it is not in any thing as an accident ; that is, 
 so as to be absent without the injury or destruc- 
 tion of the subject. That it is subject to acci- 
 dents is plain, and that too as a last subject. 
 Learning and many other things are accidents; 
 yet we see some learned, others unlearned. 
 
 It must be a substance, because it is not acci- 
 dent ; and one of the two it must be, if it be any 
 thing : and that there is some principle of action 
 within us, none deny. This is proved both from 
 the general notion of an accident, hinted at 
 before, which denies it to be a last subject, as the 
 soul is ; and more clearly, by removing all those 
 accidents which are pretended to constitute what 
 we call the soul of man : among which, it will be 
 sufficient if we prove it is no quality or tempera- 
 ment of the body, arising from different qualities 
 and humours. A made quality cannot act; though 
 v.'hen in a requisite subject it may in some sense 
 enable it to act^ But this principle within us 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 201 
 
 does itself act both upon the body and ideas 
 which it has formed, either with or without its 
 aid ; and if one quality cannot act, no more can 
 several, or I know not what results from all to- 
 gether. Further, were this principle of action 
 within us, which we call the soul, nothing but 
 such a sort of crasis of the body, consisting of 
 or resulting from its different humours, this soul 
 must necessarily decay, as this temperament is 
 injured or weakened by diseases, or approaching 
 death. But nothing^ is more common than to 
 see persons just going out of the world, when the 
 body is in sufficient disorder, yet enjoying their 
 reason in as high a degree as ever, and frequently 
 more intensely than when in perfect health, which 
 not only proves this principle of action within, 
 whatever it is, something far nobler than a fleet- 
 ing kind of I know not what quality or qualities, 
 but leads us fairly to the tirst and remote differ- 
 ence of the soul, its immateriality. 
 
 We come then to the second branch of our de- 
 finition, to prove the soul an immaterial substance. 
 And this we shall do ; 
 
 By removing any supposed absurdity or contra- 
 diction in those terms. The common idiom of 
 our language, and the vulgar discourse, generally 
 use the word Substance in the grosser sense, for 
 something they can feel, and which for that rea- 
 son, they generally call Substantial ; making the 
 very dullest of their senses, the sole judge of what 
 
202 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 is SO very nice, that even it often eludes our senses, 
 and perhaps in some cases our very reason. Nor 
 do the people, for this very cause, ever dream 
 that the air is a substance, making that and ghost, 
 terms convertible, though we are as sure it is so 
 as that the earth itself is. 
 
 That the soul is such a substance we have already 
 proved; that it may, without any absurdity, be an 
 immaterial substance, we have endeavoured to 
 shew. That it is such a substance, we shall thus 
 proceed to evince. 
 
 The essences of things are known by their pro- 
 perties and operations. Whatever then acts above 
 the power of matter cannot be matter ; is some- 
 thing above matter; is immaterial. This the soul 
 of man does ; therefore it deserves that title. 
 
 The grand question, it mtist be confessed, is 
 still : How far the power of matter reaches ? or, 
 if that be not a proper term, How far matter may 
 be modified by a superior agent, and to what fine- 
 ness it may be reduced, and how curious ma- 
 chines, may be formed out of it ? That we do not 
 pretend to resolve ; but this we may venture to 
 say. That if we can find something which has no 
 relation to congruity with matter, or at least is 
 not such ; upon such an object, we may conclude, 
 matter cannot naturally act. But such notions 
 and things we are sure are within us. As for 
 example, conjunction and division, or affirmation 
 and negation, still continued reflexion, with a 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 possibility of still drawing it finer and finer, al- 
 most infinitely. These things mere matter seems 
 not capable of, how subtle and fine soever it may 
 be, because it acts only by images ; but we have 
 no image of affirmation and negation, or reflexion. 
 Actions, we are sure, pass within us, and which we 
 learned not from abroad, but could exercise as 
 long since as we are able to remember. The 
 words indeed, by which we express those actions, 
 we receive from abroad, but not the things. I 
 have a notion of a tree, a house, a man, in my 
 fancy; and can shut my eye, and reflect vividly 
 enough on the shapes of them depicted in my 
 brain ; but defy all the world to shew me a pic- 
 ture of that reflexion, and so onward ; or to tell 
 me in w hat colours. The act of affirmation and 
 negation, I will," and I will not," are inscribed 
 in the fancy. 
 
 Nay, further, the very notion or idea of an 
 immaterial or spiritual substance, which we find, 
 much after the same manner with those before 
 mentioned, instamped on our minds, would be a 
 very considerable argument of the truth and reality 
 of the thing itself, could we once prove it innate^ 
 and not received from outward images, by dis- 
 course or reading, but this it is possible in a great 
 measure to perform; for we find no beginning in 
 history of this notion. No age, nor perhaps 
 place, where it is not believed ; confusedly or not, 
 is not the question; since it is Enough we are thus 
 
S04 TH£ ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 far certain, that a state after death has been univer- 
 sally credited, and that we have something in us 
 which survives our bodies. But the politic insti- 
 tutions and laws of, perhaps, all Nations in the 
 world, we can trace and discover ; of this we can 
 never find the root, nor ever shall any where but 
 in ourselves, how long soever we continue the 
 fruitless inquiry^ 
 
 The next branch of our description of the soul is, 
 that it is made after the image of God. Nor will that 
 be found so loose or indistinct a notion as some will 
 at first glance perhaps imagine it. 1 believe Moses 
 wrote as a Philosopher as well as a Divine, at least 
 in what concerns the happiness of man, under 
 which some competent knowledge of his own soul 
 seems to be included, gives us just notions of 
 things. He tells us, that " man was created after 
 God's image this I do not expect should pass 
 with those who pretend themselves so averse to 
 authority, without reason. It is from experience 
 then, both of others and themselves, we are to ar- 
 gue with them. Accordingly, we say that man was 
 made with a dependance on, subservient to, and 
 image of God — as beasts bear the same relation to 
 man ; and add, that this image will very much 
 explain the human soul, add gives us some of 
 those incommunicable properties thereof, which 
 no beast possesses, though they have some sort 
 of image or resemblance of them. 
 
 We all then acknowledge, that that adorable 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 Perfection who made the world is unbounded or 
 infinite in all his attributes. We shall instance 
 in some of them, and shew the resemblance our 
 souls bear towards them, both as to their extent 
 and perfection. And these are, the knowledge of 
 of God, his power and sovereignty, and his jus- 
 tice, and love of order. Now, the soul has a 
 lively image or resemblance of the first of these, 
 in its infinite capacity, and unbounded desire of 
 knowledge, which, whatever these may have, has 
 hardly any share to which it may go, and no fur- 
 ther, nor can ever be satisfied with less than an 
 infinite object. It has, secondly, an image of the 
 sovereignty and power of God, in that empire it 
 has over itself and the visible world, and that no- 
 ble liberty it has towards representing objects. 
 This desire too is inexplicable by all the world, 
 and carries a sort of an infiniteness in it. Lastly, 
 it carries with it an image of the justice of God, 
 in its natural love of order, and that conscience 
 which it can never totally efface, but which sits 
 enthroned in the mind, is absolute and sovereign 
 there, can never be forced or controlled, but 
 passes judgment within itself, both of a man's 
 own actions and those of the universe. 
 
 Nor is any of this supposed only ; it is plain un- 
 deniable matter of fact, and what all the world 
 must acknowledge, if they be either just or inge- 
 nious. 
 
 But none of all these divine signatures are, that 
 we know of, in brute creatures, which are but 
 
206 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 mere modified matter; nor ought we to grant any 
 powers in them, which cannot be proved and 
 cleared by such acts as are not equivocal and un- 
 certain. Their knowledge, if they have any thing 
 that can be called so, has nothing like infinite in 
 it, nor so much as a capacity thereunto. It is but 
 the faint image of ours, as ours is of a higher ; 
 and must needs be as dilute and weak as the rays 
 of the sun when reflected and refracted several 
 times from one object to another. It is only or 
 principally for the service of man, to whom it is 
 of much more use than to themselves. It is li- 
 mited one way, for one direct use and end. There 
 appears no consciousness of it, nor reflection upon 
 it, abstractedly considered, as we are sure we have 
 in our own, and can never prove in theirs; and so 
 in the other instances mentioned. The last clause 
 of the description is this, which, united with a 
 fitly organized body, constitutes a man. As 
 what went before distino^uished it from mere 
 matter, so this does from mere spirit, or Angel. 
 
 As for the latter branch of the question, whether 
 this soul be eternal ? If what is already proved 
 stands firm, that will hardly be denied : for 
 if by eternal is intended only immortal, as I pre- 
 sume the Querist only means, or eternal a pat te- 
 post, as the Schools call it ; it must unavoidably 
 be so because it is immaterial ; for I can conceive 
 no means of its ceasing to be, because I can have 
 no notion of a dissolution where there are no parts 
 in one without each other. 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 207 
 
 Quest. — Whether all souls are alike r 
 yifi^, — All souls are of equal excellence and per- 
 fection, as well the soul of an embryo, as of Aris- 
 totle, if you speak of the essential or specific ex- 
 cellence, which is equally communicated to all the 
 singulars or individuals of the same species : for 
 there is but one specific difference by which man, 
 and every particular man, is distinguished from 
 the beasts ; so that one man is not more reasonable 
 than another. It is true that the genius may be 
 more perfect in one species than in another; so 
 man is a more excellent creature than a beast, be- 
 cause the difference of rationality which is in 
 man is more excellent than the irrationality of 
 beasts. But Peter is not a more excellent man 
 than Paul, because the specific difference is not 
 more in Peter than in Paul. In respect of some ac- 
 cidental differences, there may be some inequa- 
 lity ; but these concern not the nature or essence 
 of man. Even so one soul may have more know- 
 ledge or other accidental perfection than another, 
 in respect of fitter organs, otherwise the same es- 
 sential excellence is equal in all, and the soul of 
 a fool is not less excellent than that of Solomon ; 
 nor of an embryo than of him who has Hved an 
 hundred years, except in accidental perfections ; 
 for, had the embryo's soul the same perfection of 
 organs, &c. that the soul of Aristotle had, she 
 would exercise the same organical acts that he did ; 
 that is, the same that immediately flow from, and 
 depend upon the soul. 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — In what part of the body is the soul? 
 
 j4ns, — It is generally held in every part; at 
 least we are sure it is not in a place in the same 
 manner that body is but a spirit, if we knew how 
 that was. But its noblest operations, imagining 
 and thinking, are undoubtedly transacted in the 
 brain. This we are sure of, that in deep think* 
 ing we feel our heads otherwise affected than at 
 other times ; and afterwards we as certainly know 
 they have been at hard labour, by that pain and 
 lassitude we find in them, as that our feet or hands 
 have been so, when, after a long w^alk or manual 
 operation, they are affected in the same manner. 
 The clearest notion of the soul's essence is, that 
 it is the image of God. As God is every where in 
 the greatest world, so it is according to its propor- 
 tion and similitude in the lesser, or the body of 
 man. It sits, perhaps, in its throne in the head ; 
 but its action not confined there, but diflfused 
 through all parts, and actuating them according 
 to their natures. 
 
 Quest. — Whether separate souls know one ano- 
 ther, seeing they have not the organs of seeing, 
 speech, &c. ? 
 
 Ans, — There is certainly a communication of 
 Angels and souls in Heaven, as appears from seve- 
 ral texts, Rev. vii. t), 10, 11, 12. 1 Cor. xiii. I. 
 Dan. viii. 13. But we can conceive this communi- 
 cation to be chiefly an ability of insinuating their 
 thoughts to each other by a mere act of their 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 wills, just as we now speak to God, or ourselves 
 when our lips do not move, or the least outward 
 sign appears. Whether there is any other con- 
 verse we know not ; but that there is what is suffi- 
 cient to know and to be known we are satisfied. 
 
 Quest, — What have the Philosophers, guided 
 only by natural reason, conceived as to the future 
 state of the coul ? 
 
 Ans, — When Socrates had the fatal draught, 
 looking upon the officers of death, he said, 
 that it did not seem to him that they led him to 
 death, but that he was going to mount up to hea- 
 ven." Cato embraced his son after he had awhile 
 contemplated the immortality of the soul. Plu- 
 tarch saith, " the wise man goes with pleasure out 
 of the darkness of the earth, to enjoy in heaven 
 an immortal light with the gods." — " Have cou- 
 rage," says another ; " let not death affright us, 
 since after death we shall either be gods, or like 
 gods. Let us not fear that our bodies will bury 
 our souls under their ruins. When this corporeal 
 nature shall entirely perish and disappear, there 
 is a necessity that the spirit which animates us, 
 and is the foundation of our being, must remain 
 without being hurt or damaged by them. 
 
 Quest, — Whetherthesoulsof studious orlearned 
 men are not more perfect in the world to come, 
 
 r 
 
910 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 than the souls of the ignorant and illiterate, if 
 you suppose them equally pious here ? 
 
 Am, — Piety takes its estimate both from know- 
 ledge and practice, so that there cannot be an 
 equality between souls equally careful and indus- 
 trious here ; for the motive and manner of this 
 care are different in themselves, and act by senti- 
 ments not in the nature, but in the manner. As, 
 for instance, two persons go along the streets ; one 
 sees clearly, and the other is almost blind: they 
 both go the same journey, take the same care of 
 impediments ; but he that sees best has a better 
 prospect of the journey's end, and can go with 
 greater pleasure, being better able to avoid the 
 inconveniences of the way than the other. I 
 shall not enter into the dispute whether doing or 
 suffering shall have the greater reward hereafter ; 
 for they both proceed from one principle; but 
 certainly, the more we are like God both in know- 
 ledge and holiness, the higher our preferment will 
 be hereafter with him ; and no doubt this differ- 
 ence will much depend upon the improvements 
 we ourselves make of our time m this world. 
 
 Quest, — Where is the soul of man when he is 
 in a swoon r 
 
 Ans. — Wherever it is, or whatever it is doing, 
 the body knows nothing of it. The sensitive 
 faculties being useless by the unfitness of the or- 
 gans, and the common sense, imagination, me- 
 
DIVINITT. 
 
 211 
 
 mory, and all stand still, as the different wheels 
 and motions of a watch or clock, when either the 
 weight is down, or any great spring or wheel is 
 disordered. The soul undoubtedly acts at pre* 
 sent by the corporeal organs ; and accordingly 
 we are not likely to remember what passes when 
 we are in the condition before mentioned. The 
 soul is still in the body, as much as spirit can be 
 in place, as much as it was before the person first 
 swooned, and remains there as long as the body 
 is any way tenantable, which it may be for some 
 time, though perhaps a little out of repair ; or else, 
 for aught we know, till God himself commands it 
 away, to return to him that gave it; and that as 
 realh^ and distinctly as he sends it first into the 
 body of the child in the womb of the mother. 
 
 Quest, — Whether there is such a particular 
 period set to the life of every particular man, as 
 that he cannot in the course of nature go beyond 
 it, and that he shall fulfil such a period, notwith- 
 standing any dangers of casualties he may engage 
 witlial ? 
 
 ^w^.-— There have been many authors that have 
 controverted this case. The two principal texts, 
 brought by such as hold the afiirniative, are that 
 of Job, Thou hast appointed his hounds^ be- 
 yond which he cannot pass ; and the other is that 
 of our Saviour, Alt/ hour is not yet come. The 
 meaning of the first appears to us, that God has 
 
 ? 2 
 
212 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 sentenced numkind to mortality, and has so laid 
 the chain of causes, that man shall not outhve 
 the boimds ordinarily of seventy years, or a 
 few more, hecause of the conveniency of the 
 world, and the succession of generations. As for 
 the second, our Saviour very well knew the con- 
 spiracy, time, and manner of his death, with 
 every preceding circumstance that would concur 
 therewith ; and therefore he might properly say, 
 " his hour was not yet come," before that time. 
 Common experience shews that the temj^erate 
 live long and healthful, when the mtemperate 
 die quickly. Now for a man to say that God or- 
 dains the means and the end, is to say that God 
 is the author of sin: — if so, murders, rapine, vio- 
 lence, and all wickedness whatever, have a safe 
 retreat, nan)ely, a necessity — that it could not be 
 avoided ; and if so, farewell rewards and punish- 
 ments, heaven and hell, nay, even the existence 
 of a Divine Being. 
 
 Quest. — Does the Scripture any where affirm 
 an election of a determinate nun)ber of men to 
 eternal life and happiness ? 
 
 Atis. — We cannot he satisfied, by any of those 
 Scriptures which are brought for that purpose, 
 that there is any such election of a determinate 
 number as either puts a force on their creatures, 
 and irresistibly saves them, or absolutely excludes 
 all the rest of mankind from salvation. The 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 chief texts commonly brought in favour of that 
 opinion are the following: Acts xiii.48. As many 
 as were ordained to eternal life believed. But 
 Grotius and Hammond, Mr. Mede, and others, 
 seem to make it pretty clear that the original 
 word, trdus\3.ted ordained, signifies no more than 
 disciplined, listed in the number of those who 
 seek eternal life; being a military word^ and so 
 used by good authors; and accordingly, St. Chry- 
 sostom, as he is quoted by Dr. Hammond, so 
 interprets the place. Separated to God, de- 
 voted, addicted, prepared, or disposed to eternal 
 life." Another place most frequently urged, and 
 which seems most favourable to this opinion, is 
 that, Eph. i. 4. As he hath chosen us in him he- 
 fore the foundation of the world. By the word 
 election," says Grotius, is here meant vocation 
 by the Gospel ; as, on the contrary. Vocation is 
 sometimes taken for Election : 1 Cor. i. 24. To 
 them that are called, both Jew and Gentile, 
 Christ, the power of God, 8^c. Nor does the 
 word Election improperly signify the great be- 
 nefits reserved for those who were to live in the 
 time of the Messiah, as the word is taken, 1 Thess. 
 iv. 1 ; not that hereby is understood the actual 
 calling of the Jews and Gentiles, but the decree 
 for their calling. We add, that there is no doubt 
 but whosoever are saved receive so great a be- 
 nefit, not through their own merits, but God*s 
 niercy in Jesus, to whom all his works were 
 
S14 
 
 IME ATHENIAN OrtACLK. 
 
 known from the foundation of the world ; that is, 
 from all eternity ; but yet we think there is no 
 one place in the Holy Scripture, which proves 
 that so many men, and no more, were irresistibly 
 determined to eserlasting salvation. 
 
 Quest, — Why is the sense of approaching 
 death so alarming to some, and yet not at all for- 
 midable to others ? and which is the noblest, 
 which the easiest death ? 
 
 Ans, — it is alarming, not only to some, but to 
 all— naturally, from that reluctance and horror, 
 arising from the apprehension of approaching 
 dissolution, which we see even in creatures that 
 want reason, from an instinct fixed in their na- 
 tures for the preservation of their beings; but 
 this is heightened in rational ^creatures, by a 
 further consideration of hereafter, and the fear of 
 something still behind that is worse than death: 
 both which fears are conquered, at least relieved, 
 in others, either by a custom of facing death, or 
 by a very pious or desperately profligate life. — The 
 noblest death, undoubtedly, is dying for Religion ; 
 next to that, for our Country, let the manner be 
 what it will in either. The easiest death is at the 
 mouth of a cannon, where, in the hundredth part 
 of a minute, a man is mounted up to immortality* 
 
 Qw^a/. -—Whether the Pentateuch was written 
 by M OSes ? 
 
 • 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 «15 
 
 Arts. — We prove that these five books were 
 really written by Moses; 1st. from the universal 
 traditional testimony, both of Jews, Christians, 
 and Heathens, much more than we have for 
 Homer's, Pindar's, VirgiPs, or Confucius's works, 
 which from a single, narrow, national tradition, 
 we so firmly believe to be theirs whose names 
 they bear, that a man would deserve no other 
 answer but laughter, who afilrmed the contrary. 
 The Jews and Christians will not dispute it. 
 The ancient, very ancient Heathens, affirm as 
 much. Orpheus himself, or if not he, one al- 
 lowedly very ancient author, mentions him, his 
 works, his very name, as clearly as it could be 
 expressed in Greek, and that as a Lawgiver ; and 
 quotes out of him the same things we now find in 
 the writings which bear his name. 
 
 But we have infinitely a more sure word of 
 Prophecy and are able to demonstrate in this 
 case, as well as several others, that those who 
 deny Moses must deny Our Saviour, for it is he 
 who expressly and frequently appeals to the books 
 of Moses, the Canon being long before that time 
 fixed as it is now. Thei/ have Moses and the 
 Prophets, say Our Saviour. Again, in another 
 place, IVhat did Moses command? Why was 
 this asked, if not unanswerable. So St. Luke, 
 xxiv. 27, Beghnring at Moses and all the Pro- 
 phets ; and St. Mark, xii. 26. Have ye not read 
 in the book of MoseSy how in the bush God spake 
 
216 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 unto him. Further, we are able to prove three 
 of those books at least quoted. As his Exodus is 
 called the Book of Moses in the place just men- 
 tioned; and again in Heb. ix. 19, Leviticus is 
 said to be the writing of Moses ; Romans, v. 
 Deuteronomy in the viith of the Acts, and the 
 27th ; or, what is equivalent, texts are taken from 
 thence, whereof Moses is affirmed to be the 
 author. 
 
 The objections against this hypothesis are, the 
 several passages in these writings, which, it is 
 said, agree not to the time of Moses ; in the chief 
 are these following: — Gen. xiii. 7; "And the 
 Canaanite and the Perizzite dwelled then in the 
 land whence it is argued, they dwelt not there, 
 now, when this was written ; and therefore the 
 book of Genesis was composed after the Canaa- 
 nites were expelled. Of the same nature is that ex- 
 pression unto this day ; for, say the objectors, were 
 not the time wherein those things were transacted 
 long passed, it were not proper for the historian 
 to say things continued in such or such a state 
 to this day. Another argument is, Moses, speak- 
 ing of himself as a third person, commending, 
 discommending, &c. which they think he would 
 not have done, had he wrote himself ; another, 
 the naming of places, particularly Dan, which 
 was not so called till many ages after ; another, 
 the death of Moses being described in the last 
 chapter ; and lastly, the coherence and connec- 
 
DIVINITY. 217 
 
 tion between these and the succeeding books, as 
 far as Ezra. And thus we have endeavoured 
 fairly to represent the strength of their objections ; 
 whereunto we give the following, and, we hope, 
 satisfactory answers. 
 
 And first, should we grant that the high priests 
 or scribes in every agCj having the keeping of the 
 Sacred Canon, made what literal or verbal addi- 
 tions or alterations they thought fit, to render 
 them more plain and intelligible to the Church, 
 for whose use they were written : this would 
 clear all the controversy. But we think there is 
 no need of making use of this general shield, 
 while we are able to put by every particular stroke 
 which has been made at the antiquity of these 
 books. The first is, " the Canaanite and the Periz- 
 zite were then in the land whence they would 
 argue, they were not so at the writing the his- 
 tory : but we deny that to be a fair way of rea- 
 soning ; the particle then relating not always to 
 ti7ne present^ but sometimes to the time past, 
 and that as properly as the other. Thus we may 
 say, supposing, in the time of William Rufus, 
 the Normans were then in the land, referring^to 
 their not having been so before, or of such or such 
 a year before passed. Supposing one had lived in 
 166*5, the plague was then in the city, not at all 
 affirming it not there when we spoke it. Now, 
 we found good reason for this expression, tJie 
 Canaanite was then in the land, Gen. xii. 8. 
 
2l8 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 because of what follows, the Lord said, unto thy 
 seed will I give this land; it being a commenda- 
 tion of the faith of Abraham, that he beheved 
 what was promised, when there appeared so little 
 likelihood thereof. Again, chap. xiii. ver. 7. 
 There was a strife between Ahraharns and Lofs 
 herdsmen, and the Caiiaanite dwelled then in 
 the land. The inconvenience and scandal of their 
 strife being insinuated, when they were among 
 such ill neighbours ; for which reason too, Abra- 
 ham might urge concord between them^ and 
 says : Let there he no strife, for we are brethren. 
 The second expression, mito this day, signifies 
 an undetermined space of time, more or less, and 
 may as fairly be applied to a short time as a long 
 one. Thus it is said of Rahab the harlot, She 
 herself, not her family, she dwelleth in Israel 
 unto this day, Josh. vi. :25, which therefore could 
 not be long after the time wherein the thing 
 happened. 
 
 As for Moses speaking of himself in the 
 third person, so does St. John and many other 
 writers, nothing being more common. As for his 
 commending, dispraising himself, &c. it argues 
 the authority, simplicity, and impartiality of his 
 writings. As for his naming places as they were 
 long after called, we may without violence affirm 
 it prophetical prolepsis; for why may not names 
 of places, as well as things, be spoken of by pro- 
 phecy, to make the thing prophesied more un- 
 
DIVINITY. 
 
 questionable, when it begins to be fulfilled ? as 
 Cyrus and others. For the addition of a few 
 lines at the latter end of Deuteronomy, giving 
 an account of his death, that indeed might be 
 added by succeeding governors, Joshua or Elea- 
 zar, as a postscript, though the rest all his own 
 writing. 
 
 But then they argue, from the connexion and 
 coherence between the different books, both these 
 five and the succeeding, that they were all the 
 work of one hand ; which leads to the examina- 
 tion of the hypothesis which they advance in- 
 stead of the old one, namely, at the destruction 
 of the Temple, all the copies of the Holy Books 
 were burnt ; when (says the Apocrypha) Esdras, 
 or Ezra, by the strength of memory, recovered 
 them again, word for word ; say the objectors, 
 he, out of all the sacred books, composed what 
 we have now, giving the first five the name of 
 Moses, to gain them the higher authority, and 
 adding the rest as he thought fit. But neither 
 can this hold ; because this story of Ezra is all 
 apocryphal; and much more what they build 
 upon it, because there were several copies of 
 those books written out for the King, and pro- 
 bably too for the Levites and expounders of the 
 Law, in their cities and synagogues ; because the 
 book of Moses is mentioned expressly, both in 
 the Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah; because we 
 find in the Writers after their captivity several 
 
« 
 
 220 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Chaidee words, and almost whole chapters, but 
 not so in the Pentateuch, &c. ; because the Sa- 
 maritans had, and still have, the Pentateuch, 
 though they had nothing to do with the Jews 
 after their captivity. Lastly, because the ark of 
 God is described in some of those books^ namely, 
 .2 Chron. v. 9. as then, when the book was writ- 
 ten, continuing in the same posture as it was 
 when removed by Solomon. "They drew out the 
 staves of the ark, and there they are unto this 
 day : but neither staves nor ark, as it is noto- 
 riously known, continued under the second tem- 
 ple ; and, as for the corrections, they might be 
 made as the postscript of Deuteronomy, before 
 mentioned. 
 
221 
 
 PART III. 
 
 (2UESTIOiNS AND ANSWERS 
 
 ON 
 
 LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 Quest. — What is Love ? 
 
 yJns. — It is very much like light — a thing 
 that every body knows, and which none can well 
 explain. It is not money, fortune, jointure, 
 raving, stabbing, hanging, romancing, flouncing, 
 swearing, romping, desiring, fighting, dying, 
 though all those have been, are, and will con- 
 tinue to be, mistaken and miscalled for it. It is 
 a pretty little soft thing, that plays about the 
 heart } and those who have it will know it well 
 enough by this description. It is extremely like 
 a sigh; and could we find a painter that could 
 draw one, you would easily mistake it for the 
 other. It is all over eyes ; so far is it from being 
 blind, as some old dotards have described it, who 
 
22« 
 
 THE ATIJENIAN ORACLE, 
 
 certainly were blind themselves. It has a mouth 
 too, and a pair of pretty hands ; but yet the 
 hands speak, and you may fee] at a distance every 
 word that comes from the mouth gently stealing 
 through your very soul. But we dare not make 
 any further inquiries, lest we should raise a spirit 
 too powerful for all our art to lay again. 
 
 Quest. — Why Love generally turns to coldnes* 
 and neglect after marriage ? 
 
 Ans. — Had the question been proposed uni- 
 versally, as if it always had done so, we must 
 have denied it, since we have in our knowledge 
 instances of some persons who have their flames 
 and raptures, and all that, as Hudibras calls it, 
 as much after the noosing as before ; and, to say 
 truth, those who are so are in so fine a dream, 
 that it were both a pity and a cruelty to wake 
 them. But the question is very cautiously and 
 prudently put — Why Love generally turns to cold- 
 ness ? In which sense it is undeniably true, and 
 the reason thereof we shall attempt to give. — 
 Variety has a strange charm in it, and satiety 
 commonly causes loathing; and even manna, 
 every day, would make us weary of it. But this 
 variety may be obtained, this satiety may be 
 cured, where there is at first a virtuous love, 
 grounded on sympathy and similitude; where 
 there are besides wit and discretion ; all which 
 have cliarms that never can be exhausted. Dis- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. S23 
 
 cretion hides those faults which are generally 
 discovered after marriage, or by degrees removes 
 them ; if not, virtuous Love excuses, or at least 
 balances them, and wit has always something 
 entertaining and new ; that is the salt and spirit 
 which keeps the sweets of matrimony from grow- 
 ing vapid, dull, and disagreeable. If it is very 
 seldom all these qualifications meet, it is no won- 
 der that the first order as seldom continues ; but, 
 where these are, it cannot fail. Thus we have 
 not only shown the reason of this coldness and 
 neglect, so very common after marriage, but 
 also the manner how to avoid it. 
 
 Quest, — What are the best remedies for Love, 
 and what cure is there for a desperate love ? 
 
 Ans. — ^There is a story of a monk, that was 
 so desperately in love with a barber's daughter, 
 who lived near his monasterv, as to make him 
 absolutely unfit for any business. His abbot had 
 a great kindness for him ; and, finding arguments 
 useless, very carefully and fatherly ordered the 
 two Lovers to be shut up together in a close room, 
 and no one to come near them, and their pro- 
 visions to be put in at a small wicket every day. 
 The monk, for the first week, thought himself 
 in paradise; the second it was pretty well; but 
 the third in purgatory ; the fourth, in hell itself; 
 begging at the wicket, of all love?, that the abbot 
 would let him out again, though, he were to live 
 
224 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 on nothing but bread and water ; — a pleasant 
 remedy enough, but such an one as our desperate 
 lover will hardly find practicable. We therefore 
 advise him to a long absence, hard labour, work 
 it out ; for some say it is a lazy disease. Or, if this 
 suit not with their circumstances, let them affront 
 the person loved, and thereby get themselves 
 more absolutely scorned and hated; and if that 
 do not answer, they almost deserve no other but 
 a hempen remedy. 
 
 Quest. — Where is the likeliest place to get a 
 husband in ? 
 
 Am. — Poor distressed lady! had we but her 
 name, we should be induced to insert an adver- 
 tisement for her in this book. But, since she has 
 left us in the dark, she must be contented with 
 the best directions we can give her in this weighty 
 matter. We answer, then, that it is the likehest 
 place to get a Lover where there are fewest Wo- 
 men ; and accordingly, if she will venture to ship 
 herself for some of the Plantations by the next 
 fleet, if she is at all marketable, ten to one but 
 one or other will save her longinsT. 
 
 Quest. — Is absence best for Love ? 
 
 Jns. — Not in the beginning of an amour, but 
 when it is confirmed and settled. It is dangerous 
 at first, because it gives a Rival opportunity to 
 make addresses; and it is in loving as it is in 
 racing — where, if once a horse get the start, it is 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGBy 225 
 
 not SO easily recovered. But when the main 
 dispute is once over, and the heart fairly won, 
 the case is much altered ; then, perhaps, being 
 always present is one of the most dangerous, 
 though desired, things that can befall a lover. As 
 acquaintance grows more intimate, our lovers are 
 still less upon their guard ; they do not show their 
 best side to one another as at first. Faults will 
 daily be found, unlucky accidents will fall out, 
 such things will be discovered as would never 
 iiave been suspected nor believed ; a thousand lit- 
 tle quarrels and piques will arise, which at least 
 produce vexation, oftentimes a final parting. But 
 in absence it is quite the reverse ; we willingly 
 forget the faults of those we love, and magnify 
 their excellencies ; we embrace and cherish their 
 dear ideas and memories ; we are daily expecting 
 and wishing to hear from them ; and if we hear, 
 especially by letters, our love is extremely in- 
 creased by those little subtle messengers : there is 
 all the soul, and more, to be seen in them. We 
 say therein whatever we please, without being 
 put to the trouble of a suitable repartee, or seek- 
 ing for a kind, and yet discreet answer. All our 
 thoughts are there exhibited at the best advan- 
 tage, and we may give them just what turn we 
 please. The man may write with as much pas- 
 sion as he pleases ; he may set his adorable before 
 him, dressed m as many beauties as his fancy can 
 form, without having the original present to con- 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE* 
 
 fute him ; and write according to the new-found 
 excellence of his ideal mistress, and bring in all 
 the fine things he thinks of. The lady may, 
 with all the caution she pleases, answer him 
 again, and let as much love as she will look out 
 through her prudence ; make what promises she 
 pleases, yet with such restrictions and modifica^- 
 tions as shall bind her no more than ropes of 
 sand. And when they come once to meet again, 
 there is such ado, with transports, raptures, and 
 the rest, that, in a word, we dare think no longer 
 of it. 
 
 Quest, — Whether it be lawful for a young 
 lady to pray for a husband; and, if lawful, in 
 what form ? 
 
 Ans. — He must renounce humanity that would 
 not make it as immortal as possible, which is 
 only effected by Marriage, whereby we survive 
 in our children. Misery, without a friend to 
 bear a part, is very afflicting; and happiness, 
 without communication, is tedious. We should 
 be a vagrant sort of animal without Marriage, as 
 if Nature were ashamed of our converse. We 
 should contribute to the destruction of states, 
 condemn the wisdom of the first institutor, and 
 censure the edicts of such commonwealths, who, 
 upon very good grounds, have discountenanced 
 and punished celibacy. Nay, supposing all the 
 miseries that marriage-haters suggest should fall 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. SiJ 
 
 upon US, it is our own fault, if, with Socrates, we 
 do not learn more by a scolding wife than by all the 
 precepts of philosophers. — ^Now, if it be lawful to 
 marry, it is lawful for ladies to pray for good hus- 
 bands, if they find their inclinations, concerns in the 
 world, or other motives, which they are to be 
 judges oi] consistent with the ends of such so- 
 ciety. As to the form of prayer required, they 
 may, if they please, use the following, if they are 
 not better furnished already ; 
 
 " From a profane libertine, from one affectedly 
 pious, from one of a starched gravity, or of ridi- 
 culous levity, from an ecstasied poet, from a mo- 
 dern wit, from a base covvard, and a rash fool ; 
 from a Venus darling, from a Bacchus proselyte, 
 from a domestic animal, save me. 
 
 "Give me one whose love has more of judgment 
 than passion, who is master of himself, who has 
 an equal flame, a parallel inclination, a temper 
 and soul so like mine, that, as two tallies, we 
 may appear more perfect by union ! 
 
 Give me one of a genteel education, with an 
 indifferent fortune, rather independant of the 
 servile fate of palaces, and yet one whose retire- 
 ment is not so much from the publick as into him- 
 self; one above flattery and aflFront, and yet as 
 careful in preventing the injury as able to repair 
 it ; one, the beauty of v^hose mind should exceed 
 that of his face, yet not deformed so as to be dis- 
 tinguishable from others even into ridicule ! 
 
«:*8 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 " Give me one that has learned to Hve much in 
 a little time ; one that is no great familiar in con* 
 verse with the world, nor no little one with him- 
 self; who, with these uncommon endowments of 
 mind, may have a sweet, mild, easy disposition ; 
 but, as the master-perfection, let him be truly vir* 
 tuous and good !" 
 
 Quest. — Whether it is better to live single, or 
 to marry? 
 
 Ans, — Marriage is all in the extremes, nothing 
 moderate in it; it is either accompanied with 
 hatred and bitterness, or full of sweetness and 
 affection ; it is either a paradise, or a hell. It is 
 never the latter from its own nature; but from the 
 fault of the persons, who know not how to use it 
 as they ought. Persons are generally so happy 
 in it, that they would not leave it if they might 
 have their choice. When the Emperor Conrade 
 the Third besieged Guedelphus Duke of Bavaria 
 in the city of Wensburg in Germany, the wo- 
 men, perceiving that the town could not possibly 
 hold out long, petitioned the Emperor that they 
 might depart only with so much as each of them 
 could carry on their backs ; which the Emperor 
 consented to, expecting they would have loaded 
 themselves with silver and gold, &c. ; but they all 
 came forth, every one with her husband upon her 
 back ; at which the Emperor was so moved, that 
 be wept, received the Duke into his favour, gave 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 all the men their lives, and extolled the women 
 with deserved praises. — There needs not a greater 
 instance of there being something in marriage 
 beyond any other enjoyment in the world : but 
 let the ladies judge, since their own sex were par- 
 ties concerned in this affair. 
 
 Quest, — Whether fruition diminishes love ? 
 
 Ans, — If the love terminates upon the senses, 
 and fixes not upon the soul, human weakness is 
 soon weary, and inclined to change; and fami- 
 liarity breeds contempt. But such a love as cen- 
 ters upon virtue, modesty, and mental endow- 
 ments, cannot be cloyed, because it is always 
 increasing, and the mind always as active. To 
 question whether we love such a subject when 
 we possess it, is to ask whether love be love ; — 
 passion before enjoyment is desire, but possession 
 alone is capable of producing true love. Now, the 
 perfection of any thing must be its completion, and 
 not destruction ; friendship is by acts increased; 
 and no doubt but, if there was occasion, there 
 might be found many married persons that would 
 not hesitate to imitate the noble contention of 
 Gracchus and Cornelia, by choosing to die for 
 one another. 
 
 Question. — Why men obliged do still fresh loves pursue. 
 While those denied are generally true ? 
 
 Answer* By wind and water sparks and flames arise. 
 
 While soon the quiet flame in ashes dies. 
 
230 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Question (From the Ladies). — 
 
 How Love to all our hearts the way can find^ 
 When he himself, vain deity, is blind ? 
 
 Answer. Unless ourselves we yield, he can't command 5 
 
 He finds the way because we guide his hand. 
 
 1. 
 
 Question. — Say, if your studies can devise. 
 
 Or what new methods can you find. 
 That men, made up of oaths and lies. 
 May yet be charm'd by womankind ? 
 2. 
 
 Or, since the task so hard does prove. 
 What is 't that our poor sex must do. 
 
 While, though we would declare our love, 
 'Tis yet too dangerous to woo ? 
 3. 
 
 If we surrender soon our hearts. 
 
 Those easy conquests soon disdain. 
 Yet rail at all our female arts. 
 
 And swear that maids should never feign. 
 4. 
 
 How wretched then is virgin youth. 
 
 Which neither path can safely try. 
 Since Scorn attends on speaking truth. 
 
 And Virtue yet forbids to lie ! 
 1. 
 
 Answer. A brave resistance gives renown, / 
 
 While easy conquests all disdain > 
 The longer you defend the town. 
 The greater honour still you gain. 
 2. 
 
 Nor ever was 't esteem'd disgrace. 
 When there 's no succour in the field. 
 
 Although you '11 not betray the place, 
 pn honourable terms tp yield. 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 3. 
 
 That weak within, you need not own 
 To those who eagerly pursue ; 
 
 Nor are without, our forces known. 
 But you cheat us, and we cheat you. 
 
 4. 
 
 From questions by ensnaring youth 
 Proposed, your wit must set you free ; 
 
 You need not tell us all the truth, — 
 You 're on your oaths no more than we. 
 
 Quest, — I have promised Marriage against the 
 consent of my friends ; which they suspecting 
 have resolved to marry me to another, for whom 
 I have a great aversion : — how am I to behave 
 myself in this difficult affair ? 
 
 Ans, — ^The resolving of two questions will clear 
 all the difficulty in this affair. Whether a pro- 
 mise of marriage is binding when made against 
 the consent of friends ? and, Whether friends 
 have any power to force consent to marriage ? 
 For the first, if the person be of years of discre- 
 tion, the promise is really binding, so as never 
 to marry any other, but to marry that person as 
 soon as all obstructions are removed ; but the 
 want of parents' consent is a very just obstruction 
 as long as they live, though not any longer, for 
 they have no power to disannul any such contract 
 or promise, when once actually and solemnly 
 made. 
 
:^32 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 With respect to the second question, so far as 
 children are under government, and not at their 
 own disposal, they undoubtedly sin in making 
 such promises, and cannot perform them till their 
 parents' consent, or death, gives them liberty. 
 But so far as they are free and rational creatures, 
 they have a power of disposing of themselves ; for 
 so much power no parent himself, unless a tyrant, 
 can deny them. Children are neither cattle nor 
 slaves ; they have therefore at least a negative 
 voice, even where there was no prior obligation, 
 much more where there is ; though, supposing 
 there were none, they ought to submit to their 
 parents' choice, unless where it is a plain case 
 that it would make them miserable. The positive 
 promise in this case was unlawful, nor is it to be 
 actually performed without the parents' consent or 
 death ; yet the parent has no power to annul this 
 promise, much less to force their child to marry 
 any other. 
 
 Quest, — A lady with a good fortune has a mind 
 to marry; but is unwilling to have either a fool, 
 a fop, or a beau, a cotquean, a book-learned sot, 
 or one they call a sober honest man — such an 
 one, I mean, as goes plodding about all day, mind- 
 ing only the main chance — in the evening, for 
 his diversion, drinks his pint, or smokes some 
 hours in a tavern with company that pleases him, 
 comes home and grumbles at his wife if the day's 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 233 
 
 expences have been a halfpenny extraordinary — 
 that will buy his v^^ife some good clothes to go 
 abroad with him on holidays, or to a neighbour s 
 christening; hardly else allowing her to stir; and 
 sometimes gives her half-a-crovvn in her pocket, 
 of which she must render an exact account. I 
 now say, a woman being to make her choice, 
 which of these, think you, is the least evil? and, if 
 she likes none of them, what sort of a husband 
 must she choose ? 
 
 Ans, — The lady is a little difficult; and seems 
 not in haste to be married, if she stays till a hus- 
 band offers that is not touched with any of the 
 characters she has given. 
 
 Let us compare these fine rivals, and see which 
 of them best deserves the honour of a lady's love. 
 For the first, a Fool, whom for the present we will 
 suppose distinguished from his near kindred that 
 follow, fop, beau, &c. Some of the fair sex 
 would make choice of a fool that they might go- 
 vern, as the fool husband would have no brains 
 for the task. But one should think a preposte- 
 rous desire of domination would hardly outweigh 
 the inconvenience of his nauseous folly ; besides 
 that, sometimes the lady may be mistaken ; for 
 some fools are certainly the most unmanageable 
 beasts in nature, and a wise woman will not de- 
 sire to have more of her own will than a wise man 
 would permit her. — Exit Fool, 
 
 Now for Fop, who only thinks a little better of 
 
234 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 himself than his elder brother, though of the 
 self-same family; he has as httle wit, though more 
 noise ; he is not so heavy as his brother, and is 
 hardly so much fool as madman — a dancing, 
 singing, empty creature, and may make an indif- 
 ferent plaything, but a bad husband, unless you 
 intend to share him with all the kind souls in the 
 nation. — The Beau is only a Fop of the last edi- 
 tion, a very fortune-hunter, and therefore the 
 ladies must look to themselves, for he aims as 
 sharply at all the young, as the crazy King of Por- 
 tugal used to do at the old women, and hopes as 
 surely to fetch them down with his heart-breakers 
 as the other with his blunderbuss. He is in love 
 with his clothes as much as the Fop with himself ; 
 he is all garniture. Could a lady change him as 
 oft as he does his fashions, it would be a little safer 
 venturing upon him ; but she may have him a 
 better bargain if she can find any way to purchase 
 his clothes, for she then has all of him, or at least 
 a more essential part than either his soul or body. — 
 For a Cotquean, it is an awkward sort of a creature 
 too to make a husband of ; but the best is, he will 
 be niore troublesome to the maids in the kitchen 
 than to you ; and besides, you will be sure to 
 have him much at home ; for this two-legged turn- 
 spit, exactly contrary to his brother brute, cannot 
 endure to be out of the way when the cook has 
 any business. — For a Book-learned Sot, the truth 
 is^ it is very hard to have him always making love 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2S5 
 
 to his books^ and forget his own flesh and blood ; 
 and it may tempt a lady sometimes to wish herself 
 a book, that she may now and then be folded 
 down, or turned over ; but, for the most, those 
 wives have no reason to complain, for they have 
 their husbands always at home, safe locked up as 
 their plate or jewels, and can resort to them for 
 advice as often as there is occasion. Lastly, for 
 the sober honest man, who minds the main 
 chance, &c. one would think he should please; 
 but then he goes plodding about all day, and 
 drinks his pint of wine at the tavern in the even- 
 ing ; perhaps too stays out late at night ; — why, 
 all this is pretty tolerable ; nor is what follows very 
 ill — buys his wife good clothes, lets her go abroad 
 to see her neighbours, gives her a little money to 
 spend ; though, if she has but wit enough to pre- 
 vent being a beggar, if she has a good fortune she 
 will reserve to herself so much when she gives the 
 rest as never to be reduced to such meanness ; 
 and, if the man can afford it, he will give her a 
 weekly allowance for family expences, without 
 either requiring or undertaking the drudgery of 
 trifling accounts. However, this character is ea- 
 sily distinguishable from the rest; and we suppose 
 the lady means by it, a hum-drum, brainless, 
 wooden fellow^r— a mere husband, with no life, nor 
 spirit, nor conversation — in a word, a trading 
 blockhead, which no ingenuous woman would be 
 bound apprentice to for life if she could avoid it. 
 
2S6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 If she be at her own disposal, it is almost impossi- 
 ble in this case to be deceived ; for the man de- 
 scribed is such a kind of thing as no disguise will 
 conceal ; he must shew himself when he puts on 
 his holyday suit, and steps a-courting, though 
 leaving word whither he is gone, for fear of a cus- 
 tomer ; nor can he so much as ask the grand 
 question out of his shopboard phrase, " Madam, 
 what do you please to buy ?" However, this we 
 think more tolerable than most of his rivals. The 
 Fool is too bad. The Fop, the Beau, and brisk 
 careless fellow, will, if possible, beggar himself, and 
 you, and all his family. The Cotquean is more 
 proper for a scullion than a husband. This plod- 
 ding main-chance fellow you speak of will secure 
 you good clothes, and one of the highest pews in 
 the church, while he lives ; and, if he happens to 
 drop off, leaves you another chance, and your 
 fortune better than ever. Nor have we forgot 
 him that we left plodding in his study, whom 
 perhaps sympathy makes us inclined to vote for 
 before all the rest. He is no fool, though he 
 may look like one ; he is generally sound and ho- 
 nest — not so the Fop and Beau ; he plagues you 
 not in the kitchen like Sir Cot, nor calls you 
 coram nobis for the odd farthings in buying a piece 
 of beef, hke your lump of a spark behind the 
 counter; but lets you alone, to rule and order his 
 family, buy as many fine clothes as you please, 
 and do what you like best ; and, unless you 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 237 
 
 Want atl angel, where could you find a better than 
 a virtuous iover of learning r 
 
 Quest. — Being lately in the country, I fell in 
 the company of two sisters of equal fortunes, the 
 elder handsome, and of a sweet temper, the 
 younger a perfect beauty, her temper but so so ; 
 however, at first sight she quite enfiamed me, but 
 her conversation somewhat cooled the fire her 
 eyes had kindled. In the mean time, the conver- 
 sation of the other absolutely charmed me. I 
 love to look on the one I love, to discourse with 
 the other. In this state of divided love I met 
 with a third, neither fair nor good-natured, but 
 possessing a large fortune. Which ought I to 
 choose, beauty, or good-humour, or tenfold riches? 
 
 A72S. — To begin with the beauty, which gene- 
 rally attracts soonest, though it seldom holds 
 longest, we can by no means vote for her; for, if 
 she be without good-humour, she is nothing but 
 a gilded bawble. Beauty soon dies ; a fit of sick- 
 ness, or bearing a few children, soon spoils it, 
 and, though it does well before marriage, there 
 are but few who admire it afterwards. Besides, 
 even a froward temper, if there is nothing else, 
 soon decays it ; for a face that is often used to 
 wear voluntary wrinkles will at length contract 
 natural ones ; and a sour air spoils the finest face 
 in the world. A man courts for a short time, but 
 when he marries he is fixed for life. There is no 
 
!23S THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 remedy for a man that has a scolding wife, except 
 a little cotton for his own ears, or a drum for hers^ 
 Nor is the rich fool much more ehgible. It is 
 true, were the fortune to be had without the 
 lawful incumbrance, or were it lawful, after the 
 honey-moon was over, to carry her down for a 
 few months to the Fens of Lincolnshire, or the 
 Hundreds in Essex, there might be something to 
 be said in favour of it; though we should think it 
 as hard fortune, were it our own case, to be turned 
 out of the world because old and rich, as w^e do 
 that the poor giants in romances should be all 
 knocked on the head, merely because they were 
 larger and stronger than other men. No, better 
 leave her and all her luggage at a safer distance ; 
 never be a slave, only to see the golden fetters 
 glitter. If she is deformed, or a fool, all the beau- 
 tiful faces she has in her bags will not keep her 
 own from frightening you ; she will soon grow 
 disagreeable; for a fool in the house is like one on 
 the stage — it never shews well twice. She with 
 a moderate face and fortune, and very good hu- 
 mour, is the girl; there being many inconvenien- 
 ces in uniting with the other, but none at all, or 
 at least but what are common, in venturing on the 
 third, the elder of the two country sisters. 
 
 Quest. — Is it possible to love so well after mar- 
 riage as before ? and if it be, what are the best 
 means of preserving so great a happiness ? 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 239 
 
 Ans, — If by loving as well be meant loving with 
 the same ardour and sensitive pleasure as before, 
 it is impossible. But though in this sense there 
 are not many love so well, unless after long absence, 
 yet undoubtedly there are many who love far bet- 
 ter in another sense, in that love which has less of 
 the sense — and more of the soul in it. This love, 
 like wine, grows finer and more spirituous by age; 
 it more resembles friendship. Wherever such 
 persons meet as are possessed of many noble qua- 
 lities, the more they are acquainted the more they 
 love. 
 
 The directions how to preserve so great a hap- 
 piness are — first, to love those who have something 
 to recommend them besides beauty, wit, or for- 
 tune ; any of which alone are but mean compa- 
 nions when we are to have no other society all 
 our lives. To all these let good-humour be added; 
 and discretion, virtue, and piety, if you know 
 where to find them. When thus met, let nothing 
 but death part you, and never be both angry at 
 once. But, if you must sometimes fall out, be sa 
 wise as to take your turns, and, when it is over, 
 learn the excellent art of forgetfulness ; or, if you 
 remember any thing, let it be each for yourselves, 
 not, as is common, for one another. And, as the 
 crown of all, let your love be in one sense truly 
 spiritual ; not only love the body, but the soul, 
 that you may never part, here or hereafter ! 
 
240 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Quest. — I am a married man ; but, having a 
 very bad wife, have been parted from her some 
 years, and design never to Hve with her more. 
 Now I desire your advice, whether I may pray to 
 God to take her to himself, that I may endeavour 
 to make myself happy in another mate ? 
 
 Ans, — Surely, if she is fit for Heaven she is fi^ 
 for you ; as, if she were as good while you Hved 
 with her as she is now, how came you to part* 
 But, supposing the cause were sufficient, and she 
 is yet no better ; it would yet be handsomer to 
 submit to God's will, and wait with patience; or 
 rather pray for her improvement, and that she 
 may not be taken hence till she is prepared for 
 Heaven. 
 
 Quest. — A gentleman having been formerly in 
 love, and disappointed, offered his hand to ano- 
 ther lady, who refuses to receive him, because she 
 thinks it not possible for a gentleman who has 
 been in love before to love again with the same 
 ardour and affection as at first. 
 
 Ans. — The lady has nothing to fear ; the ma- 
 jority give their suffrage in the affirmative. This 
 is clear, if we consider how often some are mar- 
 ried, how many have been disappointed in their 
 affections, either by parents' compulsions, their 
 own quarrels, or upon second or more advised 
 thoughts, and yet, after all, have proved happy 
 instances of an extraordinary affection. Nor can 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 241 
 
 We see any reason to the contrary, since the affec- 
 tion terminates not so much in the person as in 
 the quahfications of those who are loved ; it is 
 there only that a wise man's interest is secured. I 
 am ready to confess, sensual love hates a rival, 
 and perhaps cannot be twice passionately fixed. 
 But the soul is unconfined and free^ is ignorant of 
 the name of rival, as also of the distinction of 
 sexes ; it fixes and removes, as unbiassed and so- 
 ber reason dictates. Where that fixes, and is se- 
 cured, the lesser, I mean that of the person, always 
 submits ; at least so far as is necessary for an easy 
 and comfortable life. An agreeable converse, and 
 union of soul, never cloy; but are equally vigorous 
 in youth and age, and in all states and conditions 
 where the fear of God resides. 
 
 Quest, — A gentleman being in love with a 
 young lady, and having disclosed himself to her 
 with all kindness, she slighted him, and never 
 would own she had any respect for him ; on which 
 the courtship dropped : now, having gained the 
 affection of another, the former charges him with 
 inconstancy. It is required to know, to which of 
 them he should cleave ? 
 
 Ans. — You are obliged to keep to the last^, 
 having already made your addresses to her, and 
 handsomely retreated from the first ; though we 
 should not have commended your haste, but that 
 we suppose gratitude might have a little influence 
 
242 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 on you ; and indeed it is too commonly practised to 
 refuse or despise a fair lady, only because she 
 loves first. 
 
 Quest, — A young man having married a young 
 v/oman who was well descended, but her fortune 
 being far inferior to her inward endowments, the 
 marriage was disapproved of by her husband's 
 relations ; insomuch that they leave no means 
 unattempted to set the young couple at variance; 
 the consequence whereof, it is feared, will prove 
 destructive to each other s happiness. She, being 
 virtuously inclined, desires advice in her beha- 
 viour towards her husband's relations in such a 
 case ? 
 
 Atis. — ^This is so common an error in parents, 
 that the lady cannot much wonder at it ; and 
 though the commonness of it will not excuse the 
 wickedness in respect to them, it may in some 
 degree make her more easy under it ; and it is not 
 improbable but, in time, by bearing all their un- 
 handsome reflections without seeming to resent 
 them, and respecting them as the relations of her 
 husband, she may convince them that such a 
 good and prudent wife is a much more suitable 
 match to one that can maintain her, than a golden 
 one without these qualities. Yet, should this 
 produce not the wished-for efl^ect, it will not miss 
 of its reward ; since it is natural to suppose that 
 her husband, who already loves her for her merit, 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 243 
 
 will esteem her still more; though^ should this 
 also fail, she cannot want that satisfaction of 
 mind which always results from having acted 
 wisely, and done our duty. 
 
 Quest. — I am a young woman, and have been 
 very dutiful to my parents ; but now they liave 
 proposed a husband for me whom I cannot love : 
 therefore how shall I discharge my duty ? whe- 
 ther to oblige my parents, and live an uncom- 
 fortable life (for I cannot expect any other^ where 
 minds are not equally agreed) ; or to disoblige 
 them, by refusing what they so earnestly im- 
 portune ? 
 
 Ans. — As a child cannot lawfully dispose of 
 itself without the consent of its parents, so on 
 the other hand the parents cannot marry their 
 children without their consent. Indeed, a duty 
 to our parents, and the respect we should have 
 for their judgments, should be of more weight in 
 this affair than a childish unreasonable fancy, 
 and which, in all probability, will be the ruin of 
 the person that entertains it ; though, on the 
 contrary, where it is covetousness, or some un- 
 accountable whim, that is the motive in the pa- 
 rents, the many unhappy examples that have 
 been in such matches should prevail with them 
 against such injunctions ; and we think it not 
 undutifulness in children to deny their compli- 
 ances, after all just methods, by the intercession 
 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 of friends «ind entreaties to the contrary. There 
 is no greater barbarity in nature than unequal 
 matches ; the mines and galleys are trifles to it 
 in this life, and it is too often the earnest of worse 
 hereafter. 
 
 Quest, — Whether it is honourable for a lady 
 to answer a gentleman's letters, when she intends 
 not to entertain him ? 
 
 jins\ — It is rrue that writing is a nice thing, 
 but it is not every letter that will bear being seen. 
 Men, when repulsed, often grow malicious and 
 desperate, and will make what interpretation they 
 please of what is written ; or, if it is too prudently 
 expressed to admit any cavils, which is almost 
 impossible, they will as severely censure the very 
 action of writing, or else interpret it too favour- 
 ably for themselves, and put the lady to further 
 trouble in undeceiving them ; for which reason, 
 it had been much more proper if the query had 
 been, whether such writing had been prudent, 
 rather than honourable, which, in most instances, 
 must have been resolved in the negative. How- 
 ever, there may be some singular cases, wherein 
 it may be both honourable and prudent for the lady 
 to write ; as when she is satisfied the person she 
 writes to is a man of honour, and cannot other- 
 wise so well disengage him from a fruitless amour. 
 
 Quest, — Having an intimate acquaintance with 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 245 
 
 a lady of quality and fortune, and being by fre- 
 quent and familiar expressions of uncommon 
 favours induced into a belief of more tban or- 
 dinary kindness, I at last declared my ambitious 
 affection ; — at which she rejected my proposals 
 with the greatest regret and disdain, yet notwith- 
 standing continues a more strict and kind cor- 
 respondence than ever, so long as I mention not 
 any thing, or send any letter tending to my former 
 address; but, as often as I court her compla- 
 cency, she not only gives me sharp denials, but 
 for some time absents herself from me. Yet I am 
 informed of her uneasiness and melancholy tem- 
 per when I am gone, and of the pleasure and satis- 
 faction she takes when I am talked of, or in com- 
 pany. Likewise our daily private conversation, 
 both the freedom and liberty of honourable ac- 
 tions, discourse, and silent natural love, not only 
 confirm me in the belief of it, but I am con- 
 vinced on all hands, and apparently perceive she 
 loves me extremely well. 
 
 Now, being fully assured I shall never gain her 
 consent or prevail upon her by express courtship, 
 and knowing that she is a lady of honour and 
 entire chastity, I desire to know what method I 
 shall use to marry her, without either speaking 
 or writing to her of love and affection ? 
 
 Ans. — It would be well if you could conjure 
 here one of the mutes of the seraglio to be your 
 tutor for one quarter of a year, and teach you to 
 
246 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE, 
 
 make dumb love^ in which they so much excel. 
 But, since the black art is not lawful, and it 
 would take a long time to fetch the mute either 
 by land or sea, you must be content with the 
 Council of Christendom in this weighty affair. 
 But, first, we congratulate your happiness in 
 having a mistress that will not put you to the 
 expense of oaths or falsehoods, or so much as pen, 
 ink, and paper ; indeed, you seem not properly 
 to estimate your good fortune. Why, hovj many 
 silly things are we poor militant lovers obliged to 
 talk to our mistresses before we can thoroughly 
 deceive them ! what a parcel of plays and ro- 
 mances must we plunder for whole nosegays of 
 flowers to present to the ladies of our best affec- 
 tion! Now, all this is clear gains to you; for 
 a penny saved, you know, is a penny gained ; 
 and you may even besiege the town without all 
 these lines of circum and contravallation. Well, 
 all this is by way of reprehension. Now for a 
 little direction and exhortation, of which one 
 should think, too, you had no great need. She 
 loves you ; she loves to look upon you, to talk 
 with you, and of you, and gives you all the ho- 
 nourable marks of silent natural love ; and can- 
 not you love her in her own way, let her love 
 which way she pleases ? What if she should 
 require such tokens of love as the African ladies 
 do, and expect you should stand still and admire 
 her, wiiile she pinched and bit you till she made 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 247 
 
 her obdurate teeth and nails meet in your patient 
 lips and knuckles ? But only to sit still and be 
 loved, one would think, should be no very diffi- 
 cult matter. If you must say nothing, cannot 
 you look as well as think the more ? Nay, can- 
 not you speak side-ways, though you may not 
 directly ; and good speed is often made by sailing 
 upon a side-wind. Thus you may insensibly 
 gain upon her; till at last, if she is a woman, 
 she will speak to you to speak, or give some 
 shrewd signs she would have you no longer 
 silent. But, if she would have you dumb every 
 where else, when you think it proper time, try 
 if she will let you speak at church_, and herself 
 answer you, since perhaps she has a mind to be 
 surprized in her happiness. In the mean time 
 be patient, observant, and submissive, and no 
 doubt you will gain your point. 
 
 Quest, — Is Love good or evil to us ? And 
 which is most laudable, to place it upon man- 
 kind, or some other object, as fame, &c. ? 
 
 Ans, — Next to existence itself, the capacity of 
 loving is the greatest gift that God has bestowed 
 upon man ; since, by that faculty only, he is 
 fitted for the enjoyment of all outward goods, 
 and the more noble and excellent the object is, 
 so much is it the more capable of giving us an 
 extensive and durable happiness; therefore^ the 
 
248 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 love of each other is preferable to that of honours, 
 fame, and riches ; and our inconstancy and bad 
 choice is the reason why it is so indifferently 
 relished among us. 
 
 Quest. — Whether the woman's condition in 
 marriage be not worse than the man's ? 
 
 Ans, — It much depends on her own conduct. 
 Nature has generally given the woman art enough ; 
 by which; if either she herself, or custom, or 
 law, has given our sex any advantage over theirs, 
 they may, if they please, recover more than their 
 own again. In child-birth they have doubtless 
 much more reason to wish the human race might 
 propagate like trees, than man has to desire any 
 such thing, though one of our own sex (Brown), 
 author of Vulgar Errors," first started that odd 
 whimsey. 
 
 Quest, — What way shall a shame-faced virgin 
 take, to let a person know she loves him ? 
 
 Ans, — If the lady who proposes this question 
 has either hands or eyes, she need not be taught 
 how to use them, unless her spark is a fool, or 
 blind, or never leads her. 
 
 Quest. — Whether it is right for a woman to 
 marry one she does not love, in hopes that love 
 will come after ? 
 
 Ans. — ^There is a great deal of difference in not 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 249 
 
 loving a person, and not being able to love him, as 
 having an unconquerable aversion to him, either 
 from secret unaccountable causes — as who can 
 give a satisfactory reason why so many people 
 have an antipathy to cheese, unless that they 
 were surfeited of milk before they were weaned ; 
 or else such an aversion be grounded on some 
 disagreeableness in a man's person or disposition, 
 which may be very difficult to conquer. In 
 both those cases it is not prudent, nor, we think, 
 lawful to marry, because one end of matrimony, 
 mutual comfort and support, can never be an- 
 swered ; besides, you will find so much to bear 
 with and forgive in your husband, as well as he 
 in you, that, unless you are both angels, without 
 this love on both sides to sweeten and unite, you 
 are like to lead but a miserable life. But, in 
 truth, men are not so complaisant after marriage 
 as before; and perhaps you must do all yourself 
 towards loving them, since they generally think 
 they have said all their part before matrimony. 
 
 Quest, — I wish to be informed what bounds 
 Religion and Reason prescribe to Love ; and whe- 
 ther it be not possible, let women be ever so ex- 
 cellent, to sin in over-loving them ; I mean, in 
 such love as is itself lawful, towards one particular 
 person ? 
 
 Ans. — Love and Poetry, as they are related in 
 other respects, so are they in this, that they have 
 
250 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 bonds and shackles. Cupid, as well as Apollo, 
 is a sort of Pindarical gentleman. He is, you 
 must know, a god too, such a one as it is, and 
 looks as big, with his bows and arrows, as his 
 uncle Jupiter himself, with all his thunder, 
 though Vulcan had just hammered them a new 
 set of bolts out of a forge, and filed them as 
 bright as his mother Juno's forehead. But to 
 say no more of these heathen gods and loves ; 
 there is no doubt but the love of a wise and good 
 man ought to be, however difficult the work, 
 confined within the bounds of Religion and Rea- 
 son, unless he will love irreligiously, or like a 
 distracted person. As for those bounds, they are 
 to be fixed by the bounds of a superior love ; and 
 such undoubtedly is, or ought to be, our love 
 to Heaven, to our country, ourselves, and perhaps 
 our parents, at least before marriage ; for, though 
 we are " to leave father and mother, and cleave to 
 a wife," yet it is no-where said so of a mistress. 
 As for the second question, the resolution of it 
 depends upon the first, for it is possible to love 
 a woman more than any of these objects which 
 ought to be preferred before her. That Love is 
 disorderly, and a transgression both of the laws 
 of Religion and Reason ; though it is difficult to 
 find one who loves in earnest, that has yet no- 
 thing to answer for on that account. 
 
 Quest, — Whether a young lady ought, in rea- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 351 
 
 son or prudence, to keep by her, after she is 
 married, any letters or pictures from any of her 
 former admirers ? 
 
 Ans. — It may seem in itself an indifferent 
 thing, unless in some few circumstances, which 
 totally alter the case. One is, if the husband be 
 inclined to jealousy ; another, if the lady, when 
 married, loved any other person more than her 
 husband, whose letters and pictures might, on 
 that account, be as dangerous for her to keep 
 about her, as on the other imprudent. There 
 may yet be one case more, wherein it may not be 
 convenient for her to keep any thing received of 
 a former lover ; and that is, when there is a pro- 
 bability such persons may speak unhandsomely 
 of her if she keep such things, and, being enraged 
 at losing her, may easily take occasion so to 
 speak. 
 
 Quest, — A lady desires to know when she shall 
 have a husband ? 
 
 Ans, — We read of a waggish boy, who went to 
 the Delphic Oracle with a live sparrow in his 
 hand, and proposed this question, " Whether the 
 sparrow was dead or alive ?" designing that, if the 
 Oracle had answered deady to have shewn it alive ; 
 but, if the Oracle had answered alive, to have 
 crushed it in his hand, and produced it dead. 
 But the Oracle answered : In te sitwn, &c. 
 " It is in thy power to produce it either alive or 
 
252 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 dead. I aai sensible the lady needs not to be 
 instructed in the application, which, if she designs 
 in the affirmative, I would not have her to neglect 
 her form of prayer. 
 
 Quest. — After what manner should a gentle- 
 man, at the first visit, accost his mistress ? 
 
 j4ns, — Mistresses are to be attacked, like towns, 
 according to their fortifications, situation, or gar- 
 rison ; no general rule, in such cases, can be 
 given. Some are weak of one side, some of ano- 
 ther, which a cunning engineer will soon find 
 out. Some are to be mined, some to be bombed, 
 some won by storm, others by composition, others 
 to be starved into a surrender. The pleasantest 
 way of courtship we ever heard of was that of a 
 very old, very rich, very covetous, very foolish, very 
 ugly humble servant, to a fine young lady ; whom, 
 having taken abroad in his coach, after some pre- 
 fatory hums and haws, and genteel leers, he pulls 
 out from under his coat his great bossed Bible, 
 with silver clasps, and, turning to the beginning 
 of Genesis, shews her not that text, Increase and 
 multiply, which it is very likely he held his 
 thumb upon, but another, a little after it, It is 
 not good for a man to he alone ; and thereupon 
 made her a very seasonable holding-forth on the 
 uses and excellencies of matrimony. 
 
 Some termagant wits, like Sylvia in "The Sol- 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. S53 
 
 dier s Fortune/' are only to be won by downright 
 caterwauling; that is, rambling, and fighting, and 
 scratching, breaking legs and arms and necks, 
 and then to purring again. But a woman of 
 sense, as she hates on one side a freakish lover, 
 or a supple fop that is alternately kneeling, and 
 cringing, and whining ; so she will never endure 
 stiffness, pride, and haughtiness, which as ill 
 becomes love as it does devotion ; and the greater 
 her birth and fortune are, something of a pro- 
 portionably greater respect ought to be paid her : 
 in a word, a modest assurance, a manly beha- 
 viour, a tenderness for all her inclinations, a 
 diligent observation of her temper and humour, 
 faithfulness, assiduity, liberality, and good sense, 
 will at last carry her, if she is not pre-engaged, 
 or wholly impregnable. 
 
 Quest. — Whether fondness after marriage is 
 more pardonable in man or woman ? 
 
 Ans, — It is silly enough to both, as well as 
 indecent, to be always slabbering, like a couple 
 of horses rubbing one another. It often shows all 
 things are not well behind the curtain, when 
 there is so much love before folks ; and there is 
 danger lest their love should not last long, if they 
 squander it away too fast at their first setting up. 
 But to compare this fondness of both sexes, we 
 think it seems worst in a man; because there it is 
 most unnatural, and looks, like a woman with a 
 
254 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 beard, so very monstrous, that all the street 
 points at her wherever she appears. 
 
 Quest, — Whether it is better to marry a wo- 
 man with a singular good temper, and not truly 
 religious ; or a shrewd, of a crabbed temper, that 
 is religious ? 
 
 Ans, — For the first, there are hopes of her, if 
 she is of a good temper, and that well managed, 
 that she may improve, and^ by God's mercy, 
 become truly pious and religious ; though, if 
 not, we believe even a good man might live more 
 comfortably with her than the other, who, after 
 all, may not prove very religious ; for it is cer- 
 tainly true of woman, as well as man, if they 
 bridle not their tongue, all their Religion is vain. 
 
 Quest. — Can a tender friendship between two 
 persons of different sexes be innocent ? 
 
 Ans, — Such a friendship is not only innocent, 
 but commendable, and as advantageous as it is 
 delightful. A strict union of souls is the essence 
 of friendship. There is no sex in souls; nor, 
 while those only are concerned, can any thing 
 that is criminal intrude. It is a conversation 
 truly angelic; and has so many charms in it, that 
 the friendships between man and man bear no 
 comparison to it. The very souls of the fair sex, 
 as well as their bodies, are more delicate than 
 those of men, while men reckon themselves pos- 
 sessed of a more solid judgment and stronger 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 255 
 
 reason. Nor can any thing on earth give a 
 greater or purer pleasure than communicating 
 such knowledge to a worthy person, who, if of 
 the fair sex, by the charms of her conversation 
 inexpressibly sweetens the present labours ; and, 
 by the advantage of a fine mind and good genius, 
 often advances such notions as the instructor him- 
 self would not otherwise have thought of. 
 
 Quest. — Is it lawful to make addresses to 
 young ladies without previously consulting their 
 parents and relatives? 
 
 Ans, Gallantry and duty, in this case, gene- 
 rally advise to very different measures ; and, as 
 the world goes, a lady would give her admirer 
 but small thanks for first making love to her 
 father and mother. But to come to the point. 
 
 We may divide addresses to a lady, like attacks 
 on a town, into two ranks; they are either loose 
 blockades, or formed sieges. The first are not 
 of so great consequence ; whereas, the latter 
 ought not to be laid or raised without deeper con- 
 sideration. It is easy to apply this. A general 
 conversation with a lady is requisite, to know, if 
 possible, whether she deserves to be loved ; and 
 this before any application be made to the parents 
 for a formal courtship. I would advise to make 
 applications both to the daughter and parents as 
 near as possible at the same time, that neither 
 might conceive any umbrage of each other. The 
 
2^6 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 latter part of the question, indeed, admits of many- 
 distinctions. There is, first, a great difference 
 between immediate parents and more remote 
 relations; and perhaps, too, between some pa- 
 rents and others. 
 
 Quest. — Whether it is lawful to marry a person 
 one cannot love, only in compliance to relations, 
 and to get an estate ? 
 
 Ans. — Had the question only been proposed of 
 such as we do not actually love, it might perhaps 
 have admitted of some limitation, since we some- 
 times see persons love tenderly after marriage, 
 who could hardly endure each others sight before; 
 though even such an experiment must be very 
 hazardous ; and he must be a bold man who dares 
 venture upon it : but as it is proposed, whether 
 we may marry such as we cannot love, it is beyond 
 all doubt, and must be answered in the negative, 
 since such a practice would be most cruel and 
 imprudent. Society is the main end of marriage. 
 Love is the bond of society, without which there 
 can neither be found in that state pleasure, or 
 profit, or honour ; he, then, or she, that marries 
 for so base an end as profit, without any possi- 
 bility or prospect of Love, is guilty of the highest 
 brutality imaginable, and is united to a carcass 
 without a soul ; this being also but too general a 
 truth, as one wittily observes, That he who 
 marries a woman he could never love, will, it is 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 257 
 
 to be feared, soon love a woman he never mar- 
 ried ? 
 
 Quest,— Wh^t course must a person take to 
 remove a lady's aversion to him, supposing her 
 under some previous engagement? 
 
 ^ns, — A pre-engagement of that nature is so 
 sacred a thing, that no man in his sober reason 
 ought to contribute any thing towards the break- 
 ing of it, on which account it would scarcely be 
 honest to give directions for the attempting of it. 
 But if the question be simply how to conquer a 
 lady's aversion — that admits of a fair answer. The 
 best way is, after having found her humour, to 
 ply her close ; do not let her, if possible, so much 
 as sleep, which they say is the way to tame the 
 wildest creature in the world: or if she does sleep, 
 be so often with her that she can dream of no- 
 thing but you. This only receipt has the greatest 
 effect on most of the fair sex, who, if you perse- 
 vere long enough, will be forced at last to love you 
 in their own defence. As they give alms to beggars 
 to be rid of them and their importunities, so they 
 will give themselves to their lovers to be rid of 
 their wooings. 
 
 Quest. — Whether, if females went a-courting, 
 there would not be more marriages than there 
 now are r 
 
 Ans, — 1 think not so many, at least if they 
 s 
 
258 
 
 THE ATHENIAN OKACLF.. 
 
 only were to court, and we to be silent ; for as 
 courage is the most proper virtue of man, so mo- 
 desty is of a woman (though we meet with them 
 sometimes in the contrary sexes) ; for which rea- 
 son many ladies would die sooner than stoop to 
 what they think so mean a practice ; as we have 
 had instances of some who have actually done so; 
 it is their interest as well as their inchnation to be 
 on the defensive, for it is certain that most men 
 slight those females who fall in love with them ; 
 most of all if they proffer, or almost force them- 
 selves upon them. 
 
 Quest.— How shall a man know when a lady 
 loves him ? 
 
 — First find out, if you can, whether she 
 has loved any other before, for that renders the 
 case much more difficult; for one that has been 
 deceived herself knows how to deceive you. Jea- 
 lousy is counted one pretty sure sign of love, but 
 I think it much such anoifier as convulsions are 
 of life. If a woman tells you she loves, there is 
 no way but believing her ; indeed, there are hardly 
 any of the tokens of that passion but are fallible, 
 though the shrewdest sign that a woman loves 
 you is her marrying you. 
 
 Quest. — Whether beauty be real or imaginary ? 
 Ans. — Custom and opinion go a great way to- 
 wards making a deformity or a beauty ; and how 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 «59 
 
 shall we know who is right, he that abuses the Negro 
 for his flat nose and thick lips, or the Negro, who 
 abuses the other for his thin lips and high nose ? 
 Nor has complexion any better fate than propor- 
 tion ; one who is born white among the blacks 
 being as great a monster as a black among those 
 that are white. However, as exceptions do not 
 set aside general rules, there must be a best some- 
 where; white is lovely, and black horrid — one 
 resembling the light, and the other darkness. In 
 these things, therefore, we place beauty ; namely, 
 features, proportion, complexion, mien, and air. 
 There is such a thing as a good feature taken by 
 itself — some things being shaped more neatly 
 than others, as we may see in a horse compared 
 with an elephant — a greyhound with a swine. And 
 this is something in Nature, independent from the 
 fancy or judgment of any man. Now this feature, 
 as it is a real beauty, so it is distinct even from 
 proportion. We see persons who have some 
 good features, nose, mouth, chin, &c. ; whereas the 
 rest may either be deformed or unproportionable, 
 not bearing that due regard of situation or magni- 
 tude one to another which at first sight appears 
 pleasing or natural. A good mien relates to all 
 the body, a fine air to the face only; a good mien 
 is but of one sort, and more easily described than 
 an air ; it signifies the handsome appearance some 
 people make when you take them all together. 
 And this, though there may be something of it in 
 
 s 2 
 
THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Nature, yet it is chiefly owing to education ; 
 whereas a good air is perfectly natural, and im- 
 possible to be given by all the art in the world ; 
 for sometimes we see a face with lines of majesty 
 in it, that, like Caesar's, or Gustavus Adolphus', 
 dazzles all that beholds it, and is so sharp and 
 piercing, that it is almost insupportable ; at other 
 times we meet with such an incomparable sweet- 
 ness, that it charms all that see it, and those who 
 have it we rather call pretty than beautiful, since 
 it is often found where there is scarcely one good 
 feature. Now it is a rare happiness indeed to see 
 a face at once both sweet and majestic, though, 
 when discovered, they conquer the world. What 
 then must they do, when the owners of them have 
 the advantages of a good mien, good features, just 
 proportion, and a fine complexion r Complexion 
 is of the least value, for it soonest fades ; fools 
 often have it, and we are not agreed which is the 
 best. We rank good features in the next place, 
 with which may be reckoned proportion, since, in 
 general, one cannot be without the other. Better 
 than both appears a good mien, for it lasts longer, 
 and recommends more, especially in a man, where 
 iheface is not of much importance. Best of all 
 a good air, because, when good mien and com- 
 plexion fail — when there is sometimes little that 
 we like either in feature or proportion — a good 
 mien always lasts; anjd nothing but death, and 
 hardly that, can alter or destroy it. 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 2^1 
 
 Quest. — I have a dreadful scold of a wife, and 
 would willingly give you half my estate to tell me 
 how to tame her? 
 
 Ans. — That we will do for nothing, on condi- 
 tion you will not turn the old proverb upon us. 
 The method we would prescribe for taming your 
 shrew is, laugh at her, and let her scold on till 
 she is weary ; seem to take no notice of her ; do 
 as a mastiff would to a little whiffling cur that 
 barks at him ; say nothing to her, unless a little 
 by the bye; and perhaps, when she sees herself 
 slighted, she will burst for mere vexation. 
 
 Quest. — Whether is the man or the woman 
 more subject to love ? 
 
 Ans. — The question is very evident. A man is 
 sooner taken and wrapped in love than a woman ; 
 for we see that the man, who is born to a thousand 
 good and great enterprizes, does, for the sake of 
 love, abandon all the glory and honour of the 
 world. 
 
 Quest. — There is a gentleman whose friends 
 are very desirous to see him settled before their 
 death. He has now the offer of four wives. The 
 one a very considerable fortune, but nothing else 
 to recommend her, and this lady he despises ; but. 
 this his friends most approve of. Another a very 
 beautiful lady, young, gay, and brisk ; and though 
 she is not over wise, yet her person is very hand- 
 
262 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 some, and he could love her extremely. The third 
 is a lady of great goodness, high generosity, and 
 abounding in wit. This he esteems above them all, 
 but knows not where to fix ; for there is a fourth, 
 that courts him with all the insinuation and pas- 
 sion imaginable, but she is a coquette ; excepting 
 that, she is every way a desirable match ? 
 
 Ans. — Poor Gentleman ! he is like to be stifled 
 with kisses, and in great danger of being pressed 
 to death with roses. How many an honest man 
 now would be glad of the worst bit of his leavings ! 
 But to business ; if the propagation of guineas 
 were the only end of marriage, the first would do 
 best ; if neither men nor women have souls, as 
 some Turks and Jews think of the latter, and 
 a few fools of the former, the second would be 
 most desirable. If a man were obliged to cut his 
 own throat, or, what is worse, turn a galley slave, 
 and tug at the matrimonial oar till death do them 
 part, purely and only to save a woman's longing, 
 then let him take the last that is in love with 
 him. But, if he is for a match of body and soul 
 together, let him even " to have and to hold" it 
 with the third, who, if they have but enough to 
 live above contempt or care, can want no fortune 
 while she has so large a share of wit, goodness 
 and generosity. 
 
 Quest. — How far may Singing and Music be 
 proper in making love r 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^3 
 
 Am. — There is nothing that charms the soul 
 more than fine Music. It is almost impossible 
 for any thing to resist it; though in vocal still 
 more than instrumental. It smooths all the rug- 
 ged passions of the soul, and, like beauty, be- 
 witches into love almost before persons know where 
 they are. But even here, as well as in all other 
 cases, extremes are to be avoided, nothing being 
 more ridiculous than an eternal farewell to love ; 
 and a lady of sense would as soon make choice of 
 a singing-master, as one who is always tiring her 
 with hard names and doleful ditties. He must 
 then sing very rarely ; not be of the humour of 
 most songsters, who neither know when to begin 
 nor make an end. His performances must be na- 
 tural and easy, and carry something of a free and 
 genteel air; and he must never himself appear too 
 well pleased with them, but order it so, that he 
 may seem to oblige the lady^ not himself, by his 
 melody. 
 
 Quest. — How may a man reclaim an unruly 
 woman ? 
 
 Ans. — ^Give her rope enough ; let her alone, for 
 she is not to be made civil by any thing but the 
 worms. But if you have a mind to try to work 
 miracles, you may use some of the following di- 
 rections. Watch her tame ; that is the last re- 
 medy first. This is a way to tame even lions and 
 tigers. Some beat a drum till their poor women 
 
S64 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 have been perfectly dumb and deaf with the noise. 
 Some are for letting blood under the tongue, or 
 in both arms, to prevent her scolding or fighting. 
 Others are for drawing teeth, which would do 
 well enough if they could cut the nails too at the 
 same time. But the surest way of all is being a 
 good husband yourself ; for being bad husbands 
 are very often the cause that the wives are no 
 better than they should be. 
 
 Quest, — Why women are for the most part 
 fonder and falser than men ? 
 
 j4ns, — We shall deny they are so for the most 
 part, until the Querist has told all the noses in 
 the world. For their fondness, none ever went 
 further in the trial of it, than Spenser's Squire 
 of Dames. And he made the experiment but on 
 three hundred. But that is all a spiteful fable, 
 mvented by the angry Poet for the loss of his 
 mistress. And would some fair lady make 
 the same trial, undoubtedly she would find fewer 
 denials than he did, supposing the story true. 
 Then for their being falser too, the objector un- 
 luckily destroys one part of the calumny by the 
 other ; for if fonder indeed, we men are gene- 
 rally the painters, and order all things as we 
 please. We write the histories of women, and re- 
 present ourselves and them as we think fit; but 
 they seldom write our lives, or defend themselves. 
 But grant the observation true in some cases, yet 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 26$ 
 
 the poor ladies are easily excused. If they are fond, 
 it is disingenuous to blame them; and we seldom 
 think them so, till we are willing to leave them. 
 If they are false, we teach them to be so, and they 
 are often driven into it either out of despair or 
 revenge. 
 
 Quest. — A young man is in love with a 
 famed beauty, but slighted by her. The same 
 person is loved by another young lady of less 
 beauty, but superior fortune. How shall he be- 
 have himself between them ? 
 
 Ans, — We would advise him to drop his ad- 
 dresses to the beauty for two good reasons — be- 
 cause she is a beauty, and because she will not 
 entertain him. On the contrary, to improve his 
 interest in the fortune, if she has no remarkable 
 ill qualities, because she has a fortune, which he 
 will find the most comfortable importance in all 
 matrimony, and much more savour in it than the 
 old knight-errant way, that thin-gutted, ram- 
 bling, grinning, starving love ; and because she 
 drops into his mouth, and there are all the charges 
 of lies, presents, whining, dying, love-letters, 
 maids, porters, clearly saved into his own pocket. 
 
 Quest, — Whether the passage of St. Paul, in 
 1 Tim. iii. 2, A Bishop must be the husband 
 of one wife," does not seem to allow that the Apos- 
 tle permitted other men to have more than one ? 
 
i66 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 I should think polygamy the happiest hfe in the 
 world, if it were not forbidden. 
 
 Ans, — The reason we have so many unhpapy 
 marriages is, because the generality of the world 
 are incapable of knowing what true love is ; but 
 have an unreasonable and unruly passion to be sa- 
 tisfied, that spoils their true taste of pleasure, and 
 inclines them rather to please the brute than the 
 man ; to seek more after a fair face, or diversity of 
 such, than a wise woman and a friend ; but the 
 event generally shews the misfortune of the choice. 
 The conversation of one ingenuous woman, that is 
 wise enough to love, and prudent and agreeable in 
 temper, will give more felicity to such as are capa- 
 ble of being happy, than the choice of a thousand ; 
 nay, were it possible they should all have similar 
 qualifications : because true love is only between 
 two; and without that all the pleasures of hfe are 
 insipid. This was well known to our wise Creator, 
 who at first made but two, as a complement of 
 each other 8 happiness. But, to convince you that 
 you as little understand St. Paul as you do the 
 notions of a happy life, we will explain the pas- 
 sage. That the Bishop must be the husband of 
 but one wife, must be understood the command- 
 ing him to marry but one wife, which not only 
 excludes the plurality of women at the same time, 
 but even forbids second marriages to Bishops. 
 After this manner, Lycophron calls Helen the 
 wife of three husbands," although she never had 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^7 
 
 three at a time, Theseus being dead before Paris 
 stole her from Menelaus. Africanus calls a wo- 
 man that was married a second time Duviram, 
 and Tertullian one that was married but once 
 Univiram. The primitive Christians founded it 
 upon this passage ; and it is not unlikely but it 
 might be in imitation of the Romans, who did 
 not permit their High Priest to marry a second 
 time, that they also forbid their Bishops. So 
 the same Apostle likewise, in chap. v. ver. g. re- 
 quires them to choose such widows for the ser- 
 vice of the Church, as should be the wife of but 
 one husband, that is, that they should be such as 
 had not married again ; for women were not in- 
 tended to have many at the same time, and St. 
 Paul would not have forbidden a thing that had 
 never happened. But the Roman Laws permit- 
 ting women to put away their husbands, it was 
 common for women that were not very chaste to 
 change them often, as several passages of Seneca 
 and Juvenal prove. 
 
 Quest, — Whether or not a woman being in 
 love may make it known without any breach of 
 modesty ? If she were not rather to be com- 
 mended for speaking her mind, than die like a 
 fool? 
 
 Ans, — It would be an heroical and happy ad- 
 venture to break the ice, and give an instance of 
 one that has successfully overcome a tyrannical 
 
268 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 custom. But the mischief on it is, the fear of a 
 repulse has hindered many a fine attempt that 
 way. Yet we see no reason why a woman that 
 has sense enough to make a good choice, and 
 knows how as handsomely to discover it, should 
 be obliged to conceal her love : on the contrary, 
 it would be the best method to discover it ; since 
 by that means she would find a good reception or 
 a cure; for it is very unlikely a person should long 
 love any one that slighted them. 
 
 Quest. — Who are wisest, those who marry for 
 love, or for convenience ? 
 
 Ans. — There is no degree of wisdom in either ; 
 but they are both fools if they marry for one with- 
 out the other. Love, without the necessary con- 
 veniences of life, will soon wear thread-bare; 
 and conveniences, without love, are no better than 
 being chained to a post, for the sake of a little 
 meat, drink, and clothing. But, if we compare 
 the small degrees of each together, much love, 
 and moderate convenience, is far better than the 
 most plentiful estate, with little or no love. 
 
 Quest, — Whether all Marriages are made in 
 Heaven ? 
 
 ^ns, — ^The question is, whether every man and 
 woman who marry were predestined to the same. 
 If by this predestination is meant such a neces- 
 sary determination of our actions as make them 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 2^9 
 
 cease to be free and rational, we must absolutely 
 deny any such thing, as being only an excuse for 
 imprudence and folly, and may as well be made 
 use of by bad persons as weak ones. In the 
 mean time we do not doubt but the providence of 
 God does really interpose, and preside over all hu- 
 man actions, in such a way as is agreeable to its 
 own justice and wisdom, and the nature of man ; 
 and if in other actions, certainly in this, which is 
 of the highest concern to the happiness of life. 
 But this infers no sort of necessity upon us, nor in 
 the least takes away the freedom of our actions, 
 which we feel we have in whatever we do ; 
 though Reason tells us there is one above us, and 
 though it may perhaps fall short in its enquiry 
 how these things can be well reconciled with one 
 another. 
 
 Question. — Say, learn'd Athenians, how I may improve. 
 Or else secure the extasies of love > 
 One of the softer sex is mine, and I 
 Am hers J just now 's the nuptial joy. 
 Guess at the rest, your condescension can 
 Congratulate my bliss, and paint the happy man ? 
 Answer. — All that is sweet and soft attend. 
 
 All that is calm, serene, and bright. 
 That can please, or pleasure mend. 
 
 Or secure, or cause delight. 
 Little Cupids, come and move 
 
 Round the Bridegroom's longing eyes. 
 Whilst the stately Queen of Love 
 Round the Bride her cestos ties. 
 
«70 
 
 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 Golden Hymen, bring thy robe. 
 
 Bring thy torch, that still inspires 
 Round the stately amorous globe 
 
 Vigorous flames and gay desires. 
 Sisfer Graces, all appear ; 
 
 Sister Graces, come away ; 
 Let the Heavens be bright and clear. 
 
 Let the Earth keep holyday. 
 Jocund Nature does prepare 
 
 To salute the charming Bride, 
 And with odours fills the air, 
 
 Snatch'd from all the world beside. 
 Virtue, Wit, and Beauty may 
 
 For a time refuse to yield j 
 But at length they must obey. 
 
 And with honour quit the field. 
 Their efforts in vain will prove 
 
 To defend their free-born state j 
 When attack'd by mighty Love, 
 . They must all capitulate. 
 Marble-hearted Virgins, who 
 
 Rail at love to shew your wits. 
 So did once Eliza too. 
 
 Yet with pleasure now submits. 
 Ye too, envious Swains, who would 
 
 Follow Cupid if you might ; 
 Like that fox that gaping stood. 
 
 Discommend the grapes for spite. 
 Since experience teaches best. 
 
 Ask if mutual love has charms, 
 When the Bride and Bridegroom rest 
 
 Lock'd in one another's arms ? 
 
 Quest. — I am a young woman, and would, like 
 others, fain get as good a husband as possible, and 
 
LOVE AND MARRIAGE. 27 1 
 
 in order to do it, would know how to choose him. 
 I have heard the wise affirm, there are eight pro- 
 perties required to make so great a rarity — 
 1. grace; 2. race; 3. face; 4. parts; 5. art; 
 6. portion; 7. proportion ; S. a good disposition; 
 But, since I am not hkely to get a spouse with 
 all these qualifications, I desire no more of them 
 than such as would conduce to a young woman's 
 happiness. To be free, I would have my five 
 senses particularly gratified ; and therefore desire 
 to know which three of those qualifications I may 
 best spare in my Lover ? 
 
 yhis. — Grace you have nothing to do with 
 here, since it seems you are only for pleasing 
 your senses. Nor will a good race edify your 
 touch or taste. Arts will please your ear, if he 
 plays and sings well ; face, your eyes ; portion^ 
 your taste and smell ; and that which rhymes to 
 it, the fifth sense. And then what need of the two 
 remaining qualifications? since 2\\yo\iv Jive senses 
 are gratified without them ? But we will be se- 
 rious, and give you better advice than perhaps 
 you will take. In the first place, do not be too 
 nice in your choice, lest you should get no husband 
 at all, or the worst that oflfers — the common fate 
 of you critical ladies. Then, if you have a choice 
 to make, choose first one that has piety, or at least 
 moral honesty, if you know where to find him. 
 Do not give yourself to one of mean parentage, 
 let him be ever so rich, who will probably taste of 
 his education, and use you ill when he has you^ 
 
272 THE ATHENIAN ORACLE. 
 
 unless his temper and conversation in the world 
 has corrected that vice. Nor, on the other side, 
 doat on that airy name, a gentleman, where 
 there is no estate ; much less on a good face, un- 
 less you have a mind to have your neighbours 
 share with you ; nor on a wit, unless you long to 
 be basely used as a proof of his being so ; or, at 
 best, he will be likely to have too much love for 
 himself long to admire you; much less choose one 
 who has nothing but wealth, or all things without it, 
 we mean a competency of it, unless youhaveenough 
 for both ; for you will soon find the bed itself un- 
 easy, if the cradle be full, and the cupboard 
 empty. All we say of the next shall be, that it 
 does very well ; a handsome leg and foot are not 
 amiss ; but yet there is no one, except perhaps now 
 and then some lewd piece of quality, that doats 
 upon monsters either in excess or defect. For 
 the last, a good disposition, it is well in a man, 
 though more necessary in a woman ; a tolerable 
 portion of good-humour, we mean not so much 
 as degenerates into fondness and softness, which is 
 apt to surfeit instead of please, and, besides, lays 
 men open to ill company, and the practices of 
 every cunning knave he meets. On the whole, 
 take this advice as to the precedency of these qua- 
 lifications, on the order wherein they ought to be 
 desired : 1. first; 6. second; 7. third; 4. fourth; 
 8. fifth; 2. sixth ; 3. seventh ; 5. eighth. 
 
273 
 
 ALPHABETICAL TABLE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SEVERAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 America, whence first peopled? 42. 
 Anger, what is it ? 69. 
 
 Angry and sin not, when can a man be ? 185. 
 Animals, on the formation of, 85. 
 Apostles used no notes in their preaching, 181. 
 Aristotle, Plato, and Pythagoras, which the best ? 61. 
 
 Beauty, whether it be real or imaginary ? 258. 
 
 Benefit of Clergy, whence its origin? 33. 
 
 Birds, have they any government ? 24. 
 
 Bishop to be the husband of one wife, explained, 265. 
 
 Bodies, on preserving, 68. 
 
 Britain, why represented by a woman sitting with a shield? 51. 
 
 Cain, what mark did God set upon him ? 177. 
 Camel's going through the eye of a needle, explained, 1*9. 
 Centaurs and Lapithae explained, 83. 
 Children, whether punishable for their parents* sins ? 165. 
 Christ, why not baptized till thirty years old ? 144. 
 Christ, the many contradictions about his suiferings recon- 
 ciled, 175. 
 Christ, why he loved St. John best ? 186. 
 Christianity, whether the occasion of more good or harm? 192^ 
 Clouds, what are they ? 1. 
 
 Colour, on alteration of, in different bodies, 135. 
 Conceit, is it possible to die of ? 134. 
 Constantinople, chief cause of its destruction, 58. 
 Corns, whence they proceed ? 44. 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Courtship, whether allowable without consulting parents, 
 
 &c. 255. 
 Crisis, is there any of time ? 18. 
 
 Dancing, lawfulness of? 54. 
 
 Days, whether persons have extraordinary accidents on pecu- 
 liar ? 18. 
 Death, what is it ? IS. 
 Death, the greatest of all evils, 29. 
 Death, why so alarming to some, and not to others ? 214. 
 Deceiver, if a sin to deceive him ? 177. 
 Dew, how produced? 12. 
 Dissenter, whether a schismatic ? 185. 
 Dreams, why men dream of things they never thought of? 21. 
 
 Early or late hours, which best ? 106. 
 
 Education, proper mode of ? 48. 
 
 Election of a determinate member to eternal life, 212. 
 
 Epitaphs and Elegies, their antiquity ? 22. 
 
 Esseans, account of, 160. 
 
 Estate, which is hardest, to get or to keep an estate ? 142. 
 
 Eternity of the world, 166. 
 
 Eyes, why both eyes see but one image ? 12. 
 
 Eyes, why see more correctly with one than with both ? 36. ' 
 
 Fear, why it causes paleness ? 90. 
 Fire, how made betwixt Flint and Steel ? 7. 
 Fire, circle of, from a fire-stick, 53. 
 Fleas, have they stings ? 3. 
 
 Flowers, why open in morning, and shut at night ? 90. 
 Friendship, what is it ? 111. 
 Fruit-trees, grafting explained, 67 
 
 Glass, origin of ? 94. 
 
 God hath made all things for himself, &c. the meaning of ? 165^ 
 
INDEX. 
 
 275 
 
 God, how to know the true from false gods ? 169. 
 God, all nations have believed in a God, 186. 
 Goodness, whether any defence against misfortune ? 179. 
 Gout, original cause of ? 11. 
 
 Gunpowder or Printing, which the cause of the greatest mis- 
 chief? 168. 
 Guns, when first invented ? 45. 
 
 Habits, how to be overcome, 194, 
 Hair, why some curls naturally, 143. 
 Hanging in chains alive ? 38. 
 
 Happiness, which enjoy most, wise men or fools ? 36. 
 Happiness, what is the greatest ? 50. 
 Happiness, what is it ? 62. 
 
 Hearing or Sight, the loss of which least felt ? 140. 
 Hercules, or Ale ides, account of, 64. 
 Herodians, account of, 162. 
 Horses, the cause of their neighing ? 39. 
 Husband, where is the likeliest place to get one ? 224. 
 Husband, whether lawful to pray for one ? 226. 
 Husband, a lady's difficulty in the choice of, 232. 
 Husband, whether a woman should take one she cannot love ? 
 243, 248. 
 
 Husband, how best to choose one, 271. 
 
 Idle words, to be accounted for in day of judgment, ex- 
 plained, 174. 
 Idolatry, whence its first rise ? 39. 
 Individuation, wherein does consist ? 15. 
 Ingratitude, nothing worse than, 135. 
 Inspiration, by what can we discover divine from false ? 145. 
 Islands, how did beasts come into > 132. 
 Islands, how came they inhabited ? 132. 
 
 Joy, its utmost effects ? 5. 
 
27G 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Karreans, account of, 163. 
 
 Know one's self, how to doit? 169. 
 
 Knowledge, why do men desire ? 115. 
 
 Late or early hours, which best ? 106. 
 Lammas Day, why so called ? 89. 
 
 Latter ages, whether they have less of learning, judgment 
 and invention, than the antients ? 19. 
 
 Laughing and weeping for the same cause, whence it pro- 
 ceeds ? 137. 
 
 Letters, &c. of former admirers, whether to be preserved 
 
 after marriage ? 251. 
 Life more desirable than death, 29. 
 Loadstone, whence its polarity } 27. 
 Love, what is it ? 221. 
 
 Love, why it generally turns to coldness and neglect aft«r 
 
 marriage? 222. 
 Love, best remedies for ? 223. 
 Love, is absence best for it ? 224. 
 Love, whether diminished by fruition ? 229. 
 Love, whether possible to love twice with the same ardour ? 
 
 240. 
 
 Love, cases of difficulty in, 240, 241, 244, 245, 24S, 265. 
 Love, is it good or evil ? 247* 
 
 Love, whether bounds prescribed to by Religion and Rea- 
 son? 240. 
 Love, how first to address a lady ? 252. 
 Love, Platonic, whether innocent ? 254. 
 Love, the most hkely way to succeed in ? 257. 
 Love, how to ascertain whether a lady loves you ? 258. 
 Love, whether man or woman most subject to ? 261. 
 
 Man or woman, which the most noble ? 96. 
 Marriage, if promise of, allowable against consent of friends ? 
 231. 
 
 Marriage, is II. posbible to love as well after marriage as be- 
 fore ? 246. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 277 
 
 Marriage, whether the woman's condition is not worse than 
 
 the man's ? *248. 
 Marriage, over-fondness after, whether more pardonable in 
 
 man or woman ? 253. 
 Marriage, whether to be entered into with those We cannot 
 
 love ? 256. 
 
 Marriages for love or convenience, which are best ? 2C6. 
 Marriages, if all made in Heaven ? 266. 
 Marriages, whether more, if ladies went a-courting ? 2rj7. 
 Married, or single life, which is best ? 228. 
 Matter infinitely divisible, 139. 
 Melancholy, its symptoms, causes, and cure ? 2. 
 Middle rank of life most eligible, 184. 
 Milky Way, what is it ? 26. 
 Millers, why more deaf than other men ? 139. 
 Money, getting, the most generally delightful thing in the 
 world, 140. 
 
 Money, whether a man sins more in spending foolishly, or in 
 
 being covetous ? *42. 
 Moon, why its beams do not convey warmth ? 136. 
 Moon, why part« show a faint light ? 137. 
 Mourning, colours used for in different countries, 91. 
 Musick, how far proper in making love ? 262. 
 
 Nature, the meaning of the word ? 53. 
 
 Navigation, whether ancients were as well skilled in as (hr 
 
 moderns ? 92. 
 Nettle, how does it sting ? 23. 
 Nothing, definition, &c. of it ? 72. 
 Number, what is a perfect ? 43. 
 
 Opium, whence derived ? 10. 
 
 Osiers, why smooth and rough ? 9. 
 
 Owl, why it sees best in a faint light ? 13S. 
 
278 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Pain or Pleasure, which most easily resisted ? 70. 
 Painting, what nation first invented it ? 6. 
 Parents, on conduct of towards their children, 51. 
 Parrots, talking, 32, 
 
 Parrots, why talk, when other birds cannot ? 39. 
 
 Passion, how to cure ? 45. 
 
 Paul, St. questions on his shipwreck, &c. 157. 
 
 Pentateuch, if written by Moses ? 214. 
 
 Pharisees, account of, 15S. 
 
 Pharisees, why Christ so displeased with ? 163. 
 
 Philosopher, the first ? 39. 
 
 Plants, nature of ? 77. 
 
 Plato, Pythagoras, and Aristotle, which the best ? 61. 
 
 Pleasure or Pain, which most easily resisted ? 70. 
 
 Poetical Questions, 7, 229, 230, 269. 
 
 Popes, whence the custom of changing their names ? 37. 
 
 Predestination, whether the period of our lives are immedi- 
 ately fixed ? 211. 
 
 Pride, more generally observable in mean persons than those 
 of good birth, 57. 
 
 Printing or Gunpowder, which occasions the most mischief ? 
 168. 
 
 Prudence, whether any defence against misfortune ? 179. 
 Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, which the best ? 61. 
 
 Revealed ReHgion, concerning, 154. 
 
 Riches and Honour, their real intrinsic value? 25. 
 
 Rudder, how does govern a ship ? 35. 
 
 Sabbath day's journey, how far ? 183. 
 
 Sadducees, account of, 159. 
 
 Samaritans, account of, 162. 
 
 Satires or Sermons, which best reformers ? 170. 
 
 Sciences, a general or particular application to, which most 
 
 desirable ? 59. 
 Scripture, how to know it to be the word of God ? 171. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Scripture, ought to keep to the strict text of, 191. 
 Scriptures, variety of interpretations no prejudice to, 172. 
 Sermons or Satires, which most successful in reforming man- 
 ners ? 170. 
 
 Sermon, why one hour's, seems longer than two hour's con- 
 versation ? 178. 
 Shells, whence a noise in, like the roaring of the sea } 35. 
 Sight or Hearing, the loss of which is least felt ? 140. 
 Silver, its degree amongst metals ? 60. 
 Singing, how far proper in making love ? 262. 
 Single life, or married, which is best ? 228. 
 Sky, whether of any colour ? 37. 
 Smoke, what becomes of it ? 22. 
 Snail, shell of, whence it proceeds ? 68. 
 Snakes, if hurtful ? 38. 
 
 Snow, why profitable to the fruits of the earth ? 142. 
 
 Society, or Solitude, which preferable ? 25. 
 
 Soul, what is it? 199. 
 
 Soul, whether eternal? 198. 
 
 Soul, whether all alike ? 207- 
 
 Soul, in what part of the body is it ? 208. 
 
 Soul, what the ancient philosophers conceived of it ? 209. 
 
 Soul, where is it when a man is in a swoon ? 210. 
 
 Souls of studious or learned men, whether more perfect than 
 
 those of ignorant men ? 209. 
 Sound, progress of, 34. 
 Sound, whence it proceeds ? 89. 
 Stammering, cure for it ? 64. 
 
 Star which appeared at our Saviour's birth, its nature, &c. 34, 
 
 Sun, false, whence does it proceed ? 46. 
 
 Sun, where does it set and rise ? 135. 
 
 Sun, why cannot it penetrate the clouds ? 141. 
 
 Sun, why does it make our flesh tawney, yet whiten linen ? 141. 
 
 Superstition, true meaning of, 174. 
 
 Talismans, Egyptian, force and virtues of ? 39*. 
 
280 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Talmud, account of, 165. 
 
 Temples of worship, when first built ? 183. 
 
 Thirst, why less bearable than hunger ? 90. 
 
 Thought, what is it ? 47. 
 
 Time, what is it ? 71. 
 
 Titillation, the cause of? 133. 
 
 Trades, the most cleanly, neat, and genteel : 47. 
 
 Trees, if cutting-ofF the bottom-root hurtful or beneficial ? 54. 
 
 Truth, whether always to be spoken ? 102. 
 
 Vacuum, is there such a thing ? 121. 
 
 Virtue, whether any defence against misfortune ? 1*9. 
 
 Weeping and laughing for same cause, whence it proceeds r 137. 
 
 Wife, whether beauty, good temper, or riches, to be pre- 
 ferred in the choice of? 237- 
 
 Wife, whether allowable to pray for the death of a bad one ? 
 240. 
 
 Wife, a good and prudent better than a rich one, 242. 
 Wife, which is best, a good tempered and not religious, or 
 
 crabbed and religious ? 254. 
 Wife, scolding, how to tame her? 261. 
 Wife, whether riches, beauty, goodness, or extreme love in 
 
 return, should have the preference in the choice of? 262. 
 Wind, why the East colder than the West ? 50. 
 Woman, whether it be allowable to make known her love ? 267. 
 Women, capriciousness of, 126. 
 Women, why fonder and falser than men ? 264. 
 Wives, unruly, how to reclaim ? 263. 
 
 Zealots, account of, 163. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by J. Nichols and Son, 25, rarliament Street, Westminster.