sii'iSMiiH y^lf■^ > 1 1 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMEN'J FUND GIVEN IN 189I BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE Cornell University Library PR 3433.E5A16 Miscellaneous wrltirigs.Now first collect 3 1924 013 181 791 .i.",o..2 '•< Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013181791 THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF JOHN EVELYN, Esq. F.R.S. ^/M^^ .dor. j,e fcA c^f^(yc '^y Mia^^^ 1 ^".t ^^^'^ ' ■ "^ ^f^oyyjue?; p>nc^ e^i-^Jrccvouy^ ^ h, p i: £/> a he. , ?^oLJ-£)9^ay Active -naP^^^ty t^ri h ^>0> vpoTK yt? 9-? c^eiA^ ^ OK A? crr-A'cttf fi c< rtiAZ^ tj-r,^ y}t^uucicL£^ Ixii-ttceffrijiA/'nary p a-uj&^i^ voyf^ '^e/, 4rt ance with their learned men, studied thqir- , arts, and is familiar with their dispositions, makes this accpmpt of his time. The princi- pal advantages which a gentleni|i:n, thus made, nijay observe and apply are, truth, taeiturnitie, facetiousttessse withoat moronity, courage, modesty, hardinesse, patience, fyugajityj, and ari excellent temper in the regiment of his health and affectioins; especially in point of drink and tobacco, which is our northerne, national!, and most sordid of vices. It is (I cottfesse) a thing extreamly difficult to be at aU times and in all places thus reserved, and, as it were, obliged to a temper ho statick and exact among all conversations ; nor for mine own part do I esteem it in all cases necessary, provided a man be furnished with such a stock of prudence as he know how and when to make use even of his companions; extravagancies (as then frequently betraying more freely their inclinations, then at times of their more serious recollection and first addresses). Seeing I find it generally impos- sible for a traveller to evade some occa^^ions and encounters, which (if he be at all practical) he will, nolens vQlem, iperceive hjmselif Ingaged into at some one time or o;ther. But to recoyet- this deviation and return to our purpose:. the vertues Wfhich our traveller is to bring home when he doth repatriare (as Solinus terms it) are either publick, such namely as conpern the service of his country j or private, and altogether personal!, in prder to his particular advantage and satis- faction : and^ beleeve it. Sir, if he reap some fSontentmfent extraordinary from what he hath ohseryed abroad, the pajlns, soUicitations, watchino-s, perills, Journeys, ill entertainment^ absence, from friends, and innume- rable like incpnveniencjes, joyned to his vast expenses, do very dearly, and by a strange kind of extortion, purchase that snj^U experience and reputation which be can vaunt to have acquired from abroad. 47 Those who boast of philologicdl' peiegrlnations (faisly so callied), which they undie^take iheerly for the flourish and tongue of a 'place, posse&se onely a parrot- virtue : it- is one of the shels of travel, though I confesse, the kernel is not to be procured without it : and tdpical ; in whfeh I finde the Dutth o^oivo^mov generally most accurate and indus- trious 5 both of thferi* serve well for the entertainment of woiiien and children, who are commonly more i to ported with wonder and ifoniance, then that solid ajid feall emolument which is (thfough these instru- ments) to be conveyed us from abroad. It is written of Ulysses, that bee saw tiiany cities indeed, but, with all, hiiS remarks of mens manners and customs was ever preferred to his counting steeples, and making tours : it is this ethicall and morall part of ti-avel, which embellisheth a gentleman, in the first place having a due respect to the religion which aeebtiiplisheth a Christian : in short, they are all severally very commendable, accom- modated to persons and professions ; nor , should a cavalier neglect to be seen in all of them : but for that my intention is here, to make an introduction onely into m.y ovvn observations, I shall forbear to enter so large and ample a field, as the through handling of this argument would insensibly oblige ^mee to do, it h3.ving likewise been so abun- dantly treated of almost by every pen whiph hath prevaricated on this subject ; though, in my slerider judgment, and under favour, I must confesse, without any real and ingenuous satisfaction either to truiJi or curiosity. To conclude (Sir) and contract this tedious transgression, I conjure you to beleeve, that .1 offer nothing to you in this discourse, out of any the least self opinion, censure of other men, .vanity, or ostentation. No, I am assured you will find me far enough from that Idiopathia, and common distemper of travellers; all ;I shall pretend being but to communicate unto you how I have lost part of those seven yeares, and more ; which, not being (as in truth they ought to have been) wholly exercised in the^'benefit I itiight have reaped froth your society at home, I am obliged in honour, and fof justification of my self, to render you an accompt how they have been dispensed abroad, lam very conscious to my. self, how much mine owne little interest hath 48 suffered during mine absence, in the judgment of your stayed' and more thriving geniuses, and such as might justly indeed derive charac- ters and prognosticks from a raw and unsettled spirit,' such as was mine : but considering that all those transitory accidents of fortune and the world, can no way farther extend themselves, then to a very imperfect satisfaction of our regular and honest appetites, (besides that which they ought to yeeld unto others,) neither he who stayes at home, nor he that goes abroad, is (in mine opinion) to be altogether censured and blamed ; and truely he that can accommodate himself to so retired and contemplative a life, as certainly that of a pure country gentlemans is, frees himself of an innumerable host of troubles and importunities, which a traveller runs through, and is in a manner compelled to entertain. Conformable to that of the most incom- parable Claudian, De Sene Veronensi, Epig. Felix, qui patriis asvum transegit in agris ; Ipsa domus puerum quem videt, ipsa senem : Qui baculo nitens, in qua reptavit arena, Unius numeret saecula longa casae. Ilium non vario traxit fortuna tumultu, Nee bibit ignotas mobilis hospes aquas. Non freta mercator tremuit, non classica miles : Non rauci lites pertulit ille fori. Indocilis rerum, vicinae nescius urbis, Adspectu fruitur.liberiore poli. Frugibus alternis, non Consule, computat annum : Autumnum pomis, ver sibi flore notat. Idem condit ager Soles, idemque reducit, Metiturque suo rusticus orbe diem. Ingentem meminit parvo qui germine quercum, -^quaevumque videt consenuisse nemus. Proxima cui nigris Verona rerriotior Indis, Benacuraque putat litora rubra lacum. Sed tamen indomitse vires, firmisque lacertis ; -^tas robustum tertia cernit avum, Erret, & extremos alter scrutetur Iberos, Plus habet hie vits, plus habet ille via. 49 e serious contemplation whereof, made me sometimes (being at is) break forth in this youthful but naturall ode against travell, I I will here pronounce for my finall Epibaterium* . Happie that man who lives content With his own home and continent, Those chiding streams his banks do curb. Esteems the ocean to his orb ; Round which, when he a walk does take, Thinks to perform as much as Drake, For other tongues he takes no thought. Then what his nurse or mother taught. He's not disturbed with the rude cryes Of thef Procaccias [up and rise]. But, charm'd in down, sleeps by the side Of his chaste love, or loyallbride, In \yhose smooth arms no sooner hurl'd. But he enjoys another world : * * # * * * * * * *- * * * * # * * * # * # * # # If then at home such joyes be had. Oh how unwise are we, how mad ! is I did once write, and this I so beleeve, (as if God blesse me a successefull returne into my native country) I shall endeavour '■e, non dicere huic veritati: and though the conscience of my nail inabilities can never tempt me with the vanity to think of ublick advancement, for having spent the prime of my years and I abroad ; yet the contentment and satisfaction which I purpose incie to my self, if I may obtaine leave but to enjoy that private tion and fortune, which Heaven hath decided me at home, so i]. lib, 3. Poet. c. 106. diet, on 'ixiQ^ima sJj tou narpiS* : being a speech which was made to sens by him that was returned home after his long travell. e Guide or Messenger in Italy, which in the morning calls to horae. H 50 that 1 can but rubb out of this, into a better world, without the least impeachment to my Religion and Loyalty, Sublimi feriam sydera vertice : I shall have arrived at the summ and very top of mine innocent wishes. But if) in the mean time, it be otherwise ordained, I have learned likewise to submit my self unto the will of God, as being very apt to beleeve that excellent apophtheme of the wise man, Quod omne solum sitforti patria. But now to our traveller again. The principall places of Europe, wherein a gentleman may, uno intuitu, behold as in a theater the chief and most signall actions which (out of his owne countrey) concerne this later age and part of the world, are the Netherlands, comprehending Flanders and the divided provinces ; which is a perfect encycle and synopsis of what- soever one may elsewhere see in all the other countryes of Europe ; and for this end I willingly recommend them to be first visited, no otherwise then do those who direct us in the study of history to the reading first of some authentick epitome, or universall chronology, before we adventure to launch forth into that vast and profound ocean of volu- minous authours. From thence I would advise him to traverse Germany, (altogether contrary to the vulgar method,} by reason of that so usefull tongue, which he will find very difficult, and with much regret and many conflicts attained unto, after the facile and more smooth languages are once throughly imbibed, not omitting (compa- ratively) even the French itself. From this region you naturally slide into Italy, and then embarquing for Spain, return by a direct course unto Paris ; where indeed I would have the principall aboad of a Gentleman to be, not only in relation to the Court, and exercises ac- quired in that city, but also in respect to his expenses. This may seem a paradox to some ; but for my part I never found any wood to a great town,; and when my traveller hath cast it up, and made a true audite of all extraordinaries, he will find, what for removalls, and what for the perill of disbauched and frequent coUationings, (for in all other little towns his acquaintance will be universall, the English perpetu- ally intervisiting, with a grosse ingredient of Dutch) a very little, or inconsiderable disproportion in the total accompt. 51 Thus I propose France in the last place, for many other respects which here I purposely omit to enumerate, that I may avoid the teedium of so long a discourse ; but especially for this, that our traveller may have the more time and resolution to conquer the language, and go through those hardy and most eminent exercises which are there to bee learned in their choicest perfection and native lustre ; after which, with a competent tincture of their best conversation (for the over reservednesse of the Italian, and the severity of the Spanyard, as well as the blunt garb of the Dutch, would in an Englishman be a little palliated ; for fear it become aflfected), he may return home, and be justly reputed a most accomplished Cavalier. To the other part of your request. Sir, that I should give you some touches of the Low Countryes, and other places (besides the wrong I should do to those perfect relations already extant), observing them at a time when my judgment was not altogether so mature, and myself so much a Dutch traveller, (as I have before rendered you the character) I had rather make an apology for what I have already, and promise yet to say, then to proceed to depose allegatioris under mine owne hand of the losse of so much precious time, and betray mine ignorance. Touching Italy, the States are so many, and their policy so different, that it vi^ould cost me more leisure then I have now to spend, to reduce and discipline my scattered papers, and such indigested collections as require a more formal method and, indeed a better pen. - Nor could your servant in truth have been possibly induced to dis- cover thus far his egregious imperfections, did not your arguments carry in them some specious reproach, as well as your person so great an authority over me, when you please to persuade yourself the advan- tage I must needs (say you) have had by my extraordinary relations to persons of aifaire, as well as what I might happly in this case gather lawfully out of such as have the latest written on this subject. So that however (and as indeed the very truth is) I was least of all inquisitive how others were governed, finding it so difficult a province to regulate my self^ yet mine endeavor to pacifie your importunity, and render you a demonstration of mine inabilities to cbply with any future 52 expectation of this nature, hath in fine extorted this from me, as an resignation and sacrifice of my reputation to that obedience wh profes&edly owe you, ever more preferring the satisfaction of so a friend, to the very promulgation of my own shame and most v imbecilities. So then (to approach our purpose) seeing all those nations Q spoken of) and several (Grovernments seem at this instant epoche of to conspire as it were, and deferr to the present grandezza a French Empire, as likewise considering in what relation we of En^ are concerned, I have esteemed it best meriting my reflections and patience, to finish and dresse this peece, as judging it most worth consideration. THE STATE OF FRANCE. uaveissaff- I WILL begin with a saying of Nich. Machiavel : La Corom Regidi Francia sorio hoggi piu richi 8f piic potenti che mat : — ' Crown and Kings of France are at this day more opulent and mi then ever they were :" so that Prince of Polititlans, a great while si -and without controversie, had he any reason to give it out so ii time, we have much more to affirm the same in these our dayes, wh they have emerged, as it were, the sole victorious and flourishing ni of Europe, in whose bosome nature hath even built this gf Kingdome. ryandgreat- That whcrc a Soveraiffnc Prince is able to maintain an absi the effect ^ ... education. knowing in king-craft as their high calling required, they might with less suspicion and more ease suffer themselves to be governed by the counsels and inclinations of such whose 'mystery and ambition it hath ever been to continue by this means their greatnesse, and reinforce their authority. This present King hath one onely brother, who is called the Duke Dukeo/jnjou I- o J iiif character, of Anjou : but more frequently distinguished by the name of Monsieur ; a child of an extradionary prompt and ready spirit. The other principal! branches of this Royal]. Family are, in the first Oukeof oneam ' ' _ _ •' "^ his character. place, Gaston Jean Baptist, the Kings Uncle, and Duke of Orleans, Lieutenant General of the K. and Governor of Lahguedoc ; the same who during so many years as his brother was without oflF-spring, had those fair hopes of a Crown ; which however his merit and abilities for such a jewel be commonly disputed, to his no great advantage, certainly there is no man alive in competition with him for his exquisite skill in medailes, topical memory, and extraordinary knowledge in plants : in both which faculties the most reputed Antiquaries and greatest Botanists do (and that with reason) acknowledg him both their prince and. su- periour. The eldest daughter of this Duke, is Anne Marie d'Orleans, parti- Mademoiselle her cularly called Mademoiselle, sans queue per eminentiamy as being the first in pre-eminence and (after the Queen) greatest lady in France, to give whom the epithetes of her great worth, were to spoile all her sex of their praises, and make her as much envied as she Is indeed justly to be admired. The next in blood and ranke is Loiils de Bourbon the Prince o{ Pnnce of condy Condv, the son of Henry de Bourbon, who (to so little purpose) was character. yet so miraculously jsaved in the last bloudy and inhumane Parisian massacre. This Prince is Grand Maistre of France, Governour of 5t> Bourgongne and Bery, descended by a direct line masculine of FEan9ois de Bourbon, second brother of Antonee of Bourbon, Earle of Marie, afterwards Duke of Vandosme, and King of Navarre, the father of Henry the Great, and of Chariot Catherine de Ja Trlmouille, his second wife. A Prince whose merit in field and successfull atchievements, high extraction, and extraordinary parts, prompt him sometimes to enterr prises beyond the duty or praise of a loyal subject; for there lives not a more ambitious young man upon earth; having outlived his impri- sonment, once chased his enemy the Cardinal ; and not satisfied with this revenge (or whatever other assurances the State can render him) puts fair by a fresh Rebellion to speede a prosperous traytor ; or perfect his infamie. hi^chafac^'^^ H^^ brother is Armand de Bourbon Prince of Conty, seemingly designed for the Church, but susceptible of any other advantage ; a Prince of a weak fabrlck and constitution, but sound intellectuals. They have likewise a sister called Mary, wife to the Duke de Longueyill. Dauguers of F: How the daughters of France have been disposed of into England, mv ispose oj. gpg^j^j^ Savoy, Mantoa, &c. will be here" superfluous to relate. Thenauiraii Touchine; thc natural issue of the King's of France ("who are ever in %sme of the K: of O o V F: how esteemed. ^]^jg j^jj^j Couniry In Very great reputation and place, sutable to their birth by their fathers side), I cannot learne that the late King had any ; nay, it is reported he did so abhorre paliardize (Fornication), that he scarce thought any other act to be sin in comparison of it : contrary to the opinion of his wise Counselor and Cardinall de Richlieu, who (as I have sometime heard) did use often to say, " that a Concubine was the honest mans recreation :" a priestly aphorism, and spoken like a churchman. The Soveraignty Now to sav Something; of the soveraig-nety of the Kings of France of the French . . & J & Jnain,c, Kingdome, how it ^g wlll stcD a little back, and see by what meanes and degrees it be- became so abso- * •> o '"'*• came so absolute. Whilst the nobility of France were in a manner free and independent Princes (for such was heretofore the most part of them) how are histo- ries loud with their carriages and deportment towards their Soveraigns ? what checks upon every occasion were they ready to give them ? wit- 57 nesse those frequent impresses of a certain Duke of Gienne, Bourbon, Bretagne, and others of the same rank ; nor bath these later times exempted the Crown itself from the dangerous consequences which so many fortified towns, governments, and places of importance, have so often menaced, and, in effect, notably bridling the head of Majesty ; untill the defunct and great Cardinall de Richlieu found out a speedy ,ai1«i^^fo «-' *" and fortunate expedient to reduce them to obedience, and that not f^f^,^^^' onely by subjugating the Posts themselves, which he performed by strength, but likewise by so dextrously interesting the Gentry and refrac- tory Nobility, both by honours and blood, to the Court and his faction, which he did by policy : in fine, he so handled the cards, that the better sort of people became tractable but of meer respect to their relations ; and the meaner by an inevitable constraint, as well as the example of their Chiefs, were compelled to a due submission ; so that now the sove- reignty of France is become so independent and absolute, that albeit it do still retaine a shadow of the ancient form, yet it is, duly considered, a thing heavenly wide and different: for in the Kings sole power it is The Kings ahso- to resolve of, and dissolve warrs ; by him are the lawes interpreted ; letters of grace, of naturality, and other acts given out ; he it is imposeth taxes, from which (by a speciall decree) the Church her selfe %^J""''""^ is not exempt; nay, albeit the Pope his own Holinesse consent not; from all whose ecclesiasticall censures, fulminations, and anathemas, he feels himselfe also priviledged, and therefore nominates all spiritual! persons to their preferments and dignities : notwithstanding all this, the handsomer to disguise and apparell these his volunties, and render them at the least specious proceedures of justice, he permits none of his /*^"^^""*'T' edicts to passe as authentick until the Court of Parliament (who is absolutely at his devotion) have first verified them ; a favour this like- wise out of complement too, non tarn necessitatis quhm humanitatis, as complement. a civilian (whose glosse it is) hath warily termed it. So that as for the Parliaments of France (besides the name and formalitv), there is in P^'rHament of ^ •> '^ Prance a name truth now no such thing in nature ; which, together with their ancient ''"'^• liberties, how deservedly they lost them may be easily discovered in their frequent rebellions. In a word, he who would perfectly, and without more adoe, understand by what law and rule the Kings of I 58 By what means discomposed. TVieir estates re- vertable to the Crown hy appa- nage. Tkeir originaU authority. and number. France impose on their vassals, may see it summarily, yet very legibljif ingraven by that fore-mentioned Cardinall, upon that excellent artillery which defend his Majesties citadell at Havre de Grace, in Normandy, where you may run and read the best of tenures, as the times are now, in this epigraph, Ratio ultima Begum ; though for this slavery of theirs, they may in some degree thank our countrymen, whose forces being embowelled amongst them, hindred the assembling of the Three Estates (as they should have done) : whereupon the King being neces- sitated to make his simple edicts passe for authentick laws (although this power were delivered to him during his wars only), was the reason why the people could never recover or seize on them since. A jewel this of too great value (some think) to bee intrusted to one person, upon what pretence or necessity soever. To the King and his immediate issue, in dignity and rank, are the Dukes and Peers of France. But first, it is to be observed, that the Princes of the Blood of this Kingdom possess their lands and revenues under the name of appanage, and not as absolute proprietaries ; by which means all their estates return again to the Crown by the right of reversion, to the end that the domaine abide intire, and for other the like reasons : the Duke of Sully Henry Richmont, heretofore called 3ois Belle (on which there hangs a story) only excepted. We will passe over their original, which would be extreme difficult to investigate, and proceed to their authority, which was first established by Hugues Capet and his descendants, who thereupon obliged them to hold their lands of the Crown immediately ; by which means he also gained many that before were disaffected to him, as the Earls of Flan- ders, the Archbishop of Rheims, and divers others, who had been at the first great opposers of this usurper. Now of these Peers, there were at the first twelve only ordained : to wit, six of the spiritualty, and as many of the temporalty : but at this day their number is become indefinite, depending solely on the pleasure of the King: and these are so named, not for that they pretend to any equality of dignity with their Soveraign, but their mutual parity in authority one amongst another. 59- This Ecclesiastlcks were 1. The Archbishop arid Duke of Rheims. Ecclesiastic^ 2. The Bishop and Duke de Laon. 8. The Bishop and Duke de Langres. 4. -The Bishop and Earl of Beauvais. 5. The Bishop and Earl of Noyon. 6. The Bishop and Comte de Chaalons in Champagne. The six Temporal were rl. BoUrgOgne. Temporal!. The Dukes of < 2. Normandie. V.3. Guyenne. {4. Thoulouse. 5. Champagne. 6. Elanders. These twelve Peers composed likewise In times past the Parliament of France, from whence it Is to this day called (as once with us) the Court of Peers. Now, amongst sundry other immunities and privlledges which they Their immunities injoy, this Is none of the least, that they can neither be disposed of, nor appealed In judgment, but onely in the Court of Parliament, where they have their places as the Princes of the Blood have ; for, before the insti- tution of that high tribunal in this kingdotii, the Peers were those which judged all causes that were ordinarily brought before the King ; nor did he manage any thing else either In war or peace, without their speclall aid and. assistance. Moreover, this dignitle to some hath been granted for life, some personal, others onely to the males descending, some for ever ; yea, and even women themselves are alike capable of „, . , ' J ' » Women capable of pairerieS. pmrenes. It would take up too much time, should I trouble you with their charges at the r ■ ' •> Coronation. severall functions and charges at the Coronation, more fit for an herauld than an historian ; this onely Is observable, that albeit there were never so many Peers present,- those onely who bare the/titles of the six Splri- tuall and six Temporall before noted, officiate at the ceremony; for which very pvrpose, those who are wanting, or, extinct, have yet their repre- sentatives, who upon this occasion stand for, and supply their persons. 60 m Crown of We have spoken now of the King and prime Nobility; let us next ^ icersletmgingto survey the Crown and prime ofiScers thereunto belonging. The late author of the Estat de France hath divided them into three Ancients, three Modern, and three Domestique ; which truly, is not an unequall trichotomy; but for that I intend to perfect what I have already established touching the Court, I will commence with the three last in this partition, and so come to those which more immediately ap- pertaine to the State afterwards. The Domesiique ^\yQ three Domcstick Officers and charges are O^ers. ■ ° The Grand Maistre of France. The Grand Chambvllan of France. The Grand Escuyer of 'France. The office of the The officc of Grand Maistrs de France is Superintendent of the Grand Maistre de iiii-i •!•• iiLJ •! France. Kings housc, and hath absolute jurisdiction over all the domestick officers and provisions of his Majesties table ; and is a place of so su- preme authority, that it is seldom conferred save upon one of the Princes of the Blood ; the Prince of Condy at present undeservedly inheriting his fathers charge therein. „ , .. , f Under the Grand Maistre are many subordinate officers, as maistrei Subordinate of- ■ J ' jicers to him. d'hostcl, butlers, carvers, gentlemen waiteris, and a whole f egiment of others, which are reduced to no certain number : one thing is to be Ceremony at the noted, that whcn the King dves, the Grand Maistre breaketh his staflFe death of the King: ' o j. ' ' of office, not only as an embleme of the dismission of the rest, but like* wise to shew that their charges are only dependant upon the life of the King, albeit afterward the successor for the most part re-establisheth them. The High Cham- Ncxt to the Grand Maistrc is the High Chaml^lain of France, who fi^J^"mb^rdinate hath the supcrvisall and disposition of all officers of the King's bedcham- to him. ^^^ ^^j wardrobe, gives or denyes accesse to his Majestie ; under him there are four chief gentlemen of the chamber, called, les quaires pre- miers gentils hommes de la chambre du Roy ; one of these ever lies in the Kings bedchamber, or very near to it. Under these are the Masters of the Wardrobe, very lucrative places, to whom are subordinate the Pages, &c. 61 Lastly, the Grand Escuyevy or Master of the Horse, superintendent The Grand es- of the Premier ]Ss€Ui/^T and other officers of the stables; his charge it is n«y. ' to march on horseback before the King, bearing a sword and belt, when his Majesty entreth into any city ; but in those towns which have a parliament he carries ("in place thereof) a casque of blew velvet semded with Jleurs de lys, his own horse caparisoned with the like. He pre- tends also authority over the Masters of the Post, offices of wonderfuU gain ; but it is now otherwise settled. The Master of the Horse hath likewise under him four and twenty Pages, who being the sons of prime Noblemen, are educated in all such exercises as become their quality. The Grand Escuyer is at present the Prince of Harcourt. The Premier Escuyer (whom I have before-mentioned) hath parti- PremUr Eseuyer. cular care of the Kings little stable, where the coach horses are kept, as also over the Pages, who be no lesse then fifty in number, and the Kings Footmen ; in effect'he commands equally both the great and little stables, so that the charge of the Premier Escuyer is not much inferiour to. that of Master of the Horse himself. The King hath likewise foure Secretaries of his Chamber, and three Secretaries 0/ the ,^ Kings Chamber of his Cabinet : to speak truth, the multitude of those who stile them- andcaunet. selves Secretaries to the King, is such, that what with the greatnesse of their number, and inconsiderablenesse of most of their persons, the dig- nity of the charge is extremely eclipsed. The Kings Bihlioihecarius, Superintendant of the moveables of the The smiotheca- Grown,- Con trolers, Treasurers, Mareschals des Loges, Capitaime de la Treasurers,Mare- shals des Ijogest Porte, who hath under him a giiard of fifty halberds, &c. and of other capitaine de la inferiour officers of all sorts, under those above five hundred more, though never half of them vpaiting at a time, and so not constantly eatina: at Court, as did heretofore most of the oflBcers of the Kings of ^^^' splendor, " ^ ^ '-' and hospitality of England ; the splendor, hospitality, order, and decent magnificence of t^ English cowt whose service and attendance in this kind, I am confident no Court of Europe hath ever approach'd or parallell'd. There are likewise of Churchmen, the Greate Almoner of France, The Great ai- upon whom depend all of that robe in the Court ; under him is also the Premier Almoner, and subordinate to him the severall Chaplains, chaplains, cicrhs, ■ I ' Confessors. Clerks, Confessors. - 62 Nowe before I proceed, somthing I should speak of those royall officers which superintend the Kings pleasures and ordinary recreations; Pertaining to the g^jgjj jg ^]^g Grand Feueur and Fauconnier, the Chief Hunter, and Master Kings pleasure^ ^ •. Tonni^^c.^""' of the Game — places not only of very great honour, but also of command ; but a word of them shall suffice, as offices rather of dignity than policy. Touching the officers belonging in particular to the Queens hous- officers belonging Jjold, I shall hcrcin likewise much contract my self, having: so amply dis- co the Queens in ' ■ J ' . o l J ^iiil^^''/thf ^'O'lrsed of those which appertain unto the King; and the rather, in regard Kings, ^^^^ jj^ most of the subalternate, they so much resemble the one the other. except Maids of . 'J Honour, Knights, Yet shc hath differently one Dame d'Honneur ; of extraordinaries many more ; six Maids of Honour, twelve Chamber-maids CB\\eA.Filles de la * Reyne: a Knight of Honor, divers Masters, Cup-bearers, and Carvers ; a Chief Grooiji, under whom are a great many Pages and Footmen ; also Secretaries, Treasurers, &c. She hath likewise her Grand jfiumosnier, and a. Premier Aumosnier, Ecclesiasticks, and the like, as before was said of the King. And now having surveied the principal Officers of the Court, I know you are ready to enquire of me where the guard of this great Monarch is The Grand Pre- all this while ? I vvlU but ouly mention the Grand Prevost, at present vast, liis command. , _ j. i i i> n it • i the Mareschal d Hoquencourt, whom 1 may not omit, and then I will draw them forth in their several orders. Not only the Grand Prevost is an office which extends it selfe over all the officers (already mentioned) which belong to his Majesties houshold, but it hath likewise command absolute for six leagues round about Paris, and the Court, every way, which is in truth a very great and noble ju- risdiction; besides he is judge of all causes, as well civills as crimlnels, which are incident in Court, and hath for this respect two Lieutenants fifty Archers of the. Kings guard, and severall other officers; to him appertaineth the imposing of the price of bread,, wine, flesh, fish, hay, oates, with sundry other very important priviledges. But behold here K^gt/j'tance. comcs the guard : the first which present themselves are, 100 Gentlemen. LtG Cent GentUs Hommes, so. named from their, prirnary restriction (albeit now double in number) they are called the Kings Company,; and wait on him on all days of ceremony, and like occasions. Next, Musgueti£rs on The Musqueticrs on horseback, which during the .Regency have been 63 dissolvedj but are now in great probability to be re-established by the King ; they were composed of one hundred and fifty horsemen, chosen out from amongst the prime youth of the chiefest families of France, and at the first instituted by Lewis the Thirteenth, father of this present ^teKmpcu- King, who was so physiognomically punctual in their election, that it is '**"*• reported he would admit none who were of a red hair : these waited on his Majestic in person whenever he went abroad : but after these, and the more ancient farr (who besides their immediate attendance on the person of the King wee are to accompt as principall and solid forces of the state) are the guards of French, Scotch, and Swisse : of all whom, because those who approach neerest to the person of his Majesty are the Scotch (by an extraordinary and special good fortune, it seems, ever esteemed faithfuU to this King and Crown only, for they are very neer his person, and therefore called the Guard de la Manch). I will first f'J^^^f ""„'"''•'" begin with them. They consist of an hundred archers, and four ex- ^"'"'*- empts, who carry a staflFe or truncheon in stead of an halberd, with the rest, from whence they are so denominated : these wait on the King, and observe him in all motions, joyned also with some ather of his Ma- jesties guards, whereof some bear halberds, others carabines, whether the King be at table, in coach, or in his bedchamber. But this guard of Scots, as sympathizing with the calamity of this nation, is of late Decay of the years very much impaired, divers French suborned in their places, and "" * " ^'■""*'- many of their priviledges lost and infringed, insomuch as it seems at present to retain rather a name than a real being. The Swisse (for being likewise strangers) I produce in the next Guard of swiue. place : the guard of this grim nation is composed of sixteen companies ; but of these the more immediately attending as the Kings constant guard are only an hundred of them, who all weare the Kings cloath, marching with halberds on their shoulders, drum always beating, and fife playing before his Majesty, when 'ere he stirs but into the city. Lastly, the Guard of French, called the Regiment des Guards, with GuardofF.or , _ . - . . • -\ J 11 J.U 1 ^^giinent des the Swisse (composing two entire companies) guard all the avenues and Guardn. precincts of the Kings palace : they are both of them two regiments, whereof each is made up of 30 companies, consisting of two hundred men apiece, if full ; and besides these there is also another Companie 64 Gens cTarms cavalry. Trve signatures of ahaotute Monarchy. Officers of State. Kings Revenue. Superintendent des Finances or Coustumes. * Thresoriers de V Espargne. de Gens d'Armes, who are Cavalleres, and serve quarterly on horse- back. Thus is this great Monarch so inviron'd with men of iron whereever he goes, that one who should meet him abroad, though but upon the most ordinary occasion, would suppose them an army marching rather to defend or invade some distressed province, then the private guard only of a Princes person ; so carefull have the Kings of France ever been to maintain this principle of greatnesse and security, the very quintessence certainly of true polity, and infalliblest signatures of an absolute jurisdiction. It would now peradventure be thought proper here to speak next of . the Militia, having already placed the guards, who indeed compose so considerable a part thereof ; but because wee have now done with the Court, we will in the next cast our eyes upon the State, and afterwards secure it. But first a word or two touching the Kings Revenue and Counsel ; as being the very nerves and pillars of all earthly grandeur. The ordinary revenue of the Kings of France is extremely uncertain, albeit vastly augmented within these late few years, and (besides from the domains formerly engaged to the Crowne)are infinitely Increased by the doiianes tallies, and other customes arising upon all manner of merchandize; a treasure altogether uncertain, and therefore imposed still as occasion requireth, and at the pleasure of the King. In order to this, are established severall grand officers, of whom in order, first. The Superintendent of the Finances, equivalent to our quondamLiordi High Treasurer, and officers depending on him. This Is he who doth absolutely dispose of the farmes and customs of the King, hath the chaise and dispensation of the revenues ; in short, it is a place so immensly lucrative, and prodigiously rich (as being obnoxious to no Account) that there is no man able to make a just estimate of their gaine. Subordinate to him are four other Intendents, and as many Trea- surers de V Mspargne, whereof one of each wait every month, and these are those great financiers who suck the very bloud of the people ; for which (like the Jewish Publicani their brethren) they are sufficiently blasphemed by them upon all occasions. 65 The Tresoriers de V Espargne (yf\i\fh. are as Chancellours of the Ex- chequer, have an alternative office ; because the number of them is not alwayes certaiti), places of that vast revenue, that they are frequently sold at no less than a million of livres : for this the Mspargne is resem- bled to the ocean sea, into which, like so many rivers, all the other receipts, generall an4 particular, of the Kings revenue, do praecipitate themselves, and pay their tribute. From hence all other the treasures, as well ordinary as extraordinary, of the wars. Generals of the Provinces, Maritime Officers, Payers of Publick Rents, Courts, receive money, and advance for their several and respective distributions. There are likewise besides these, the Treasurers of the Parties ^*« Treasurers of the Parties Casuelles, who are four : these have charge to receive all monies pro- Casueiies. ceeding from the sale of offices (which is a gain here openly avowed). But that which much countervails the inconvenience of their casualties, unto which they are incident is, that though a man deposit a vast summe, and even exhaust him self for the purchase, they are yet here- ditary, so that even the widow of the defunct may delegate it to a ^^"^^' '^" **' deputy or proxy, the King only reserving a small annual rent, which "'"''«"*■ ?"'' *"«' they call La Paulet ; in default of which payment, or that the person die without having resigned his office, these Treasurers dispose of it to the Kings use and benefit. The Comptrouler-General des Mnances, his office it is to register all comptrollers- gc ■* ... neral of the Cits- receipts and expences ; but, for the present, it remames extmct. tomes. These Treasurers are distributed into Generalities or Bureaux ("so BureauT and ce- neraliies. called from a stuff of that name which covereth a table, as our Exche- quer) ; the Generalties are twenty-two great cities, and each of those have their generall and particular Receivers, which last bring the monies of the Tailles (which certain elected officers impose or assesse f ^//jj^f" upon the parishes) unto the respective collectors who receive it : and these at Paris render it into the office aforesaid. The ancient Kines of France had other wayes then these to subsist. Kings 0/ France O •' . had other ways of till Pepin and some later Princes of the third line, so much augmented ^?^'"'^f ^^ the domaine of the Crown ; as by appanages, which through defect of issue male now revert unto it ; also by possession of lands and seignio- ries annexed to the Crown ; by rents, fifts, and other rights proceeding 'Hit '^epin. K 66 mposuims by ffom ficfs ; by impositions and the first Prince of the Blood then present ; and in defiiult of their absence,^ to the Chaneellour, who, t«%ether with the Treasurer o^ Superintendent, hath principal auibhorii^ in all those Courta I have*, or shall speak of; 68 The Coumell of Direction. The Counsell of Parties. T]ie manner of proceeding in t/^ese Courts. Grand Conieil. and this Court (bes^es the above named, who are chief) is composed of many Counsellours of State, who are all persons of great merit, and commonly such. as have given signal testimonies of their abilities and addresse by their long services; as Ambassadors and Orators to forraign Princes; or officers in other jurisdictions and counsels: also to, this Court appertaine foute Secretaries that serve quarterly ; eighteen Mais- tre de Requests, who (according to the nature of the affaire^ with the Intendents, make the Reports, having first resolved the businesse amongst themselves, according to which the arrest is sometimes given. In this Counsell passe all matters belonging either to warr or peace, and all other concernements of the Crown whatever ; for here they determine definitively; which judgment so passed, is termed an Arrest or Act of Counsell : howbeit, in causes of high consequence they are often revoked both from this Tribunall (yea, and the Parliament it self also) unto the Conseil d'en-haulf, although a Counsell but of a later initiation. Branches from this are also the Counsell of the Finances, or Customs, called the Councel of Direction, where all the affaires of the Exchequer are disposed. Likewise the Chancellor holdeth another Counsell, called the Conseil des Parties, wherein the processes of parti- cular parties and recusations have their proper hearing : and to this also belong Quarterly Secretaries apart. Now the manner of proceeding in these Courts goes according to the disposition of the severall affairs, by the reports made ready, reformed, and first signed, which is by them, then by the Chancellor, if it be at the Counsell of Parties ; if at the Finances, by the Duke of Orleans, Mons"" the Prince, and Superintendents, who deliver them to \\\q gre/ffieir or clerk, by whom they are to be allowed, that is, paragraphed in parch- ment, to which they subjovne a commission, which is sealed bv the Chancellor, if they are to be immediately executed. Other Arrests ana Acts of Counsel are executed by an Usher or Sergeant of the Counsel, who wears a chaine of gold about his neck, with a medail pendent, wherein there is impressed the Kings picture. There is likewise another Councell, called the Grand Conseil, in which also the Chancellor presides virtually, though seldom present in person : and this is composed of four Presidents, and a hundred and fifty Counsellers, who serve by semestre : and this Court is chiefly, and indeed only conversant in affaires ecclesiastical, such as concerne bishop- ricks, priories, hospitals, &c. collation and presentation to benefices in the jurisdiction either of King or Pope within this realme ; and there- fore here is the Kings Advocate and Proctor- General continually attending. And now (returning to our former division) we may remember that the more ancient Officers of the Crown were likewise three : viz. the Contiestable, the Marpschal, and the Chancellor. I shall forbear a while to speak much of the two first, till I come to treat particularly concerning: matters of warr : we are now in affaires of State and Justice, officers of stme O . .... . ' and Justice. wherein this last in our division as chlefe and soveraign ; his office is to dispatch and modifie all the graces and gifts of the King; is Keeper of ^"^'^'""'^^ the Great Scale, with which bee confirmes all the ordinances, edicts, declarations, and pleasure of his Majesty ; for which respect he hath in Parliament his seat on the left hand of the King, when he is there pre- sent. But there are no dayes properly designed for sealing; that Days and manner wholly depending upon the will of the Chancellour. The manner thereof is this : the Chancellour sits at the middle of a large table, upon which is placed a cabinet or coffer (wherein there is locked all the publick seals of France), the key of which he carries about his neck : at the end of this table are two Masters of Requests, with whom he may advise in case the affaire require it : and over against the Chan- cellour one of the four Referendaries of France, who reads all the letters, arrests, and other expeditions, which, if approved, are accommodated with yellow wax, fitting and ready for the seale, and so put up into a box to be controuled by the Kings Secretaries, who must first allow and paragraph them, and then they are sealed : for expedition of highest consequence, as treaties, edicts, abolitions, &c. in green wax : but the seals of Dauphine are in red. Moreover the character of the Chancellour is esteemed so sacred and inviolable, that it remains altogether indeleble but by death onely : yet notwithstanding upon decadency or disgrace Guard des with the King, there is commonly one called Garde des Sceaux, who executeth'his charge, and hath also the same authority ; for the scales may be taken away at his Majesties pleasure, but not the Chancelbr- eontinuaiipay. Camp. The King hath commonly under pay about a hundred and forty Cornets of cavalry, distributed into 56 regiments, besides of strangers, twelve : of infantry, the King hath two hundred and ten, whereof some regiments have thirty companies, and every company payed for eighty men effective. Moreover his Majestic hath divers regiments of stran- gers, whereof enough hath been said in the beginning. Armada Naval. The A.rmada Nttval may be composed of about twenty men of warr, and as many gallies ; I have shewed you before how these forces are paved, and therefore we will proceed to the Governours of the Provinces, as beinp; likewise men of armes. Gmemx>ursof ^he Govcmours of Proviuccs have their commissions (which are Provinces, Cities, V and Ports. simple, and depending on the pleasure of the King) verified in Parlia- ment, where they have their seats next after the premiers Presidents : they are in some degree equivalent to our Lieutenants of the Shire, but exercise a much more vigorous power, which is yet restrained to mat- ters of armes ; for in other justice they meddle not at all. So likewise 77 the governors of cities, fortresses, and places of strength, all which are chosen of persons of blood, valour, arid merit. But before we alto- gether quit this subject of armes, it will not be impertinent to say somthing here of the Order of Knighthood in France. I shall not much amuse you with those orders which are so far anti- orders of Chmai- quated, that even the heralds themselves can scarcely render us any certain accompt : Such is that which is named de la Genette, insti- tuted by Charles Martel, or the Order de I'Estoile by King John, the Order of the Croisant, Pore Espic, nor much concerning the Order of instituted 1469 Saint Michael it self, although not many ages since first instituted, and venth. for a long while the principal Order in the Kingdome ; composed but of 36, because (as the manner of this nation is to be as soon weary of their new inventions, as children are of rattles) they begin to have this Order already in contempt ; albeit the chain and pendent badg be ordre.de s. Mi- commonly reserved in the coat armours, together with that which is now in vogue, and next ensues. UOrdre du S. Esprit was instituted on new years day, anno 1579, ordreduS.Es- ■<- •' ■' ' prit. Institution. by Henry the Third, and honoured with that name, because he was both born and afterwards elected King of Polonia on Whitsunday : this Prince restrained the number also to thirty-six ; but that is likewise as indefinite as it pleases the King : however, it remaines yet the Order of greatest esteem, and therefore let us look a while upon the ceremonies of the Inauguration. The day of their reception they appear all in cloath of silver, their Reception. cloaks (^especially their ca.^%^ exit d, V antique, of black velvet; which they put off and change, to receive on them a robe of green velvet full of embroydred tongues of fire : then remaining on their knees, the King takes their hands between the palmes of his own, striking them lightly upon the shoulder, and kisses their cheeke. Ordinarily they wear a flame or orange colour crosse of velvet upon Order. the left side of their cloakes, in the midst whereof is embossed a dove of silver, and about it a glory of rayes, like that which our Knights of the Garter in England do wear, as having first assumed that mode from the French ; albeit for antiquity of the Order, ours stands much before it. 78 State Hierarchi- cal. Archbishops ani Bishops, L'Eglise GalK- eane. Present Govern- ment of France. Q. Regent. Card. Mazarini. ' About their bodies likewise they wear a blew ribbot) which of late tikey have watered, and at the end of that a crpsse of gold, in the midst whereof there is ennamailed a white dove : and this is all which I finde observable. We have been hitherto very silent of the State Ecclesiastick in par- ticular, which, although it come last in order, yet was it one of the first in mine intention, as consisting of persons who, besides their qualities both for extraction and letters, possesse alone one third part of the total revenue of France. The Arch Bishops of this kingdom are in number 6fteen^ whereof he of Lyons is the Primate and Metropolitan, and some of these be Pe&rs; Bishopricks, two hundred and one. Of this Hierarchy is composed VMglise Gallicane, which by the concordats made with the Pope, hath sundry rights and priviledges* extraordinary, which, but for that they are not much incident to our discourse, we will purposely omit, and content ourselves with what hath been briefly spoken. Having thus, as 1 was able, finished my designe and your request,, with what succinctnesse and perspicuity I might (for herein I am obliged to some relations, more discourses, and a little experience), I will make bold (the better to let you understand the full nature of thing* as they subsist and are govern'd at present) to reassume the argument, and deliver you the best and more solid opinions of men concerning the particulars already spoken of. The Government of France doth at present rather totter then stand, upon the late great Cardinals substruction; the QueenRegeat having ever since his decease continued in the principall ministry of state affairs her favourite Mazarini, a person of (to speak with the world) far greater fortune then either extraction or vertue; however he hath steered this great vessell of Monarchy a long time, and? that amidst sa many stormes, and in such foul weather, as whether his craft or courage exceeds, it is not yet decided; certaine it is, that as he hath longer held in then by some wise menit was judg'd be could, so some late actions of his (interpreted to have been ingratefull enough) make others daily ai>d in truth, he doth play so hazardpus confident of bis absolute ruine 79 a game at present, that as the hand is universally turned, it were great pdds to lay on confusions side, so prodigious a fatality now threatning Princes, that if France compose not suddenly, these calamities, I am confident, will epidemically visite Europe for a time. And why it should be that this active nation have endured ^> many strangers to governe them thus in chief I am much to seek for a reason, when I steadily behold th« universal protnptnesse of the Noblesse; unlesse peradventure, to avoid emulation at Court 'twixt so many greater Princes and Subjects,^ as might else pretend to highest authority,, they rather submit them- selves ta the meanest alien. But this by way of glosse and species, not opinion. The subtill have ever been too hard for the simple : and though the law deny women succession to the Grown, yet the h.te of the kingdome, and addresses of the sex, furnish'd them a title which liath fully recompensed for that injury. The Noblesse of France comprehend the Gentry, under one and the JVobiesse of . 11.1 . T^. J ^ France and same common t^rm; nor indeed is there in any Kingdome (save ours Gentry the same N. 1 !• • • • 1 • thing. onely) that severe distinction of minores and majores amongst the ]VJobility ; a difference which some think neither suits with true policy or justice. But quitting this decision to whom it belongs, we are (as I said) in this dominion to take the Noblesse (that is the Gentry) for the sole visible body, and consequently the Plebeians of a far more vile Plebeians, their ■ . *' , . . misery. and naturally slavish genius, then they really are in any part of Chris- tendome bcisidea ; which meannesse of spirit I easily conjecture to have been long since contracted from the over severity and liberty of their superiors ; their incomparable poverty, and excessive oppression . Other Immunities, besides the fore rehearsed,^ which the Noblesse enjoy in France is, that with their pensions and governments, they are like- wise exempted froia all contributions upon their own demains ; which dotji so fax oblige them to their Prince, that there are none which ren- der him such real and considerable service, upon all urgent and brisk Se>-vice the mu- occasions, as do the Gentry ; especially, at what time the Ban and yield their Prince. Arrier-ban be summoned to their several assignations: and to this BanandArrier- heroique life of the field they are. generally addicted, as being thereto chevawy, their excellently > c \ ' c '\ 1 1*1 counted a dimi stain and diminution to the honor and- dignity or nisiamily; the like timo/honori also they for the most part observe in their marriages and^ alliances ; but herein the German is most religious. The Nobility and Gentry of this kingdom differ much from the garb Nomties,gar, of living in Englaufl, both within (and till of late) without doors ; they have many of them vast estates, either in lands or offices ; the revenues whereof they chuse rather to spend at. Paris, and other great cities, in a specious retinue of coaches, pages, and laquaies, then suffer them- selves to be eaten up at home, in the country, in the likenesse of beef and mustard, among their unthankful neighbours. This, affection of theirs to reside for the most part in the. chief towns of the kingdom, is the reason why the Corporations are little considerable, as not daring corporations to be brewing and hatching such factions, as where the Gentry and civiller sort of mankinde are universally given to solitary and unactive lives in the country. Besides, . the gentlemen are generally given to those laudable magnificencies of building, and ifurnishing their palaces Magnificence i ■ I 1 • 11 I r L 1 I n '** NoHlity at with the most precious moveables, much ot the luxe and excesse of Gentti^. V Italy being now far entred amongst^ them, as may wpll serve to exem- plifie, when in the. Dutchess of Chaulmes • her palace neer the Place Royal in Paris, the penDaches.or tufts of plumes belonging to one of her beds onely, are estimated worth fourteen ;thousand livers, which amount to neer a thousand pounds sterling of our. money. Every great person who builds here, however qualified with intellec- Great pretende tuals, pretends to his elaboratory and library; for the furnishing of '"'"*' which last he doth not much amuse himself in the particular elections M 82 of either authors or impressions; but having erected his cases and measured them, accords with a stationer to furnish him with so many gilded folios, so many yards of quartos and octavos by the great, till his bibliotheke be full of volumes. And yet some of them, both have excellent books, and are very polite scholars ; but the Noblesse do nut naturally so addict themselves to studie, aa tbe gown-men do; account- ing it a life so contemplative and below their spirits, that no gentle- mans necessity whatsoever shall easily engage him to seek any support Physick and Law either bv Pbysick or Law ; both which professions are (^as in truth they despised m/ the J J ' J. '>• J. Nobiiitj/offrance. highly merit) in very laudable esteem and reputation amongst us in England. Hasticklfptance' "^^^ ^^^^^ Ecclosiastick (comprehending that of the religion) is of Protestants. twosorts; the greater part whereof being Pontificians, and the Pro- testants, commonly called those of the religion (and by them vvith this adjunct, pretendue reformSe), who exercise the doctrine and discipline of Geneva. lioman Cathoiichs "j^^g Roman Catholicks of France are nothing: so precise, secret, and 0/ France, how or' 'liZfi%uhe'^me blgotish as are either the Recusants of England, Spain, or Italy; but religion. ^^^ f^j. ^^ most part an indifferent sort of Christians, naturally not so, superstitious and devout, nor in such vassallage to his Holinesse as in other parts of Europe, where the same opihions arc professed ; which indifferenoy, whether I may approve of or condeoin, I need not declare here. fcr*"Tald 'Tk- '^^ ^^^ ^^^ P°*^^ Protestants, they are now so inconsiderable, since the nedofiute. latc succcssBs of the Cardinal RichUeu, and especially our nations re- proach, and their misfortune at La Rophelle; that for the present they possess no one place of strength, or any other singular immunity above others, as being defeated of all eminent persons, either of birth or charge, who might be able to. defend or counsel them at need ; the Court having now rendered most of them proselytes by preferments, interests, or other effectual means. Howbeit, such as remain (and of which too there are likewise a very considerable body) are permitted peaceably to enjoy their consciences, upon renovation of the late edict of pacification ; and are undoubtedly in case of any considerable rebel- lion, capable to form a very ballancing and pondrojus party ; but with 83 nothing that front and confidence which within these twenty years past they might have done, when they durst even beard the King, and pro- tect such as retired to them from his displeasure, in most of his now strongest towns and places of importance ; but the scean is now much The cause of u. altered, and they shrewdly contracted, especially since the stir under that late and incomparable person the D. of Rohan : the folly of their own private interests, having evidently proved their fatal destruction ; as it is most frequently seen to fall out (first or last) amongst all con- Fatee/dvudis- trivers of civil and popular dissentions. However, thus far I must uttieschiim needs vindicate the Protestants of France, that we finde not amongst "pr^fsuMs, le- them those frequent schismatiques and broachers of ridiculous entbil'' ^why"^' "^*' siasms as aboutid amongst us ; every particular so unanimously con- curring Avlth their pastor, that, in truth, they are herein not unworthy to be commended ; though that vertue likewise were the more estima- ble, were it not certainly constrained by the vigilancy of their anta- gonists, who watch all advantages to discompose and defame them. To be short, though they have lost many great ones and much strength, and that the form of their discipline invite few, yet the light of their attempts hath invited so many to look into the reason of things beyond the mask of tradition and mystery of policy, that it is both thought and well known, that even divers of those who are persons of greatest eminency both in Church and State, have so good an inclination to inclinations oj , . J . . , . many great ones change some pomts of the received opmions, that were it not more out to a r^brmation. of secular consideration to lose their preferments, then any other incon- veniency, many of them would openly profess themselves Jansenia- Jamenianisis and "^ , , , . , . Moulinists. nists, Moulinists *, &c. whose opinions, as they infinitely propagate among&tthem, so do they come on a great way towards a reformation. The forces of France is that which renders it (as indeed it doth all Forces of France. other kingdoms) most formidable abroad and secure at home. The frame and positure of the Continent, situated a:s it were in the Advantageous navel of all the Christian world, qualifies it to collect, unite, and dis- pose of her forces ; for it hath Spain and Italy before it, England be- hinde ; the seas upon the right, and Germany upon the left band ; at one corner the Neatherlands, and the Cantons of the Swisse at the * So named from Cornelius Jansen, or Jansenius, Bishop of Ypres, who died May 16, 1638; and from Peter Du Moulin, a very celebrated French Protestant Minister, who died March 10, 1658. 84 Cadets aHdyming- er brothers all sol- diers of fortune . Francis the First reproached^ and why. Maritime forces and Havens. Late ac^uists. Land forest. other; all of them potent, considerable, and active neighbors; and where they intermit, it is a worthy prospect to behold how nature hath served and defended her with the Pyrenes, Alps, Ocean, and Mediterra- nean Seas, whilest she sitting secure from any subitaneous irruption of natural pretension, may well be pronounced a fair and most just empire; and especially since the later accession of Bretagne, Guyenne, Nor- mandy (once the goodly portions of the English), and Bourgogne, who are now all of them under one Prince, as having enjoyed hereto- fore every one their proper Dukes ; by whose favour or spleen there was always a facile entrance for any potent stranger to disturbe the rest of the Kingdom; the consequencies whereof have filled almost every modern Chronicle. And to the stronger twisting of this cord, such prudence hath been had of late times, that all those great and power- ful houses remain now no more divided (as still amongst the Princes of Italy and Germany)^ the cadets and younger brothers minding for the most part no greater preferments then what they cut out with their sword, and merit in field by being soldiers of fortune. As for the forces by sea, as it was never great, so we do not read that ever any signal action hath been atchieved by any of their navi- gations ; for which cause, Francis the First was once pretty well resolved to make use of the Turk, and call in that stout miscreant, to the eternal reproach both of that Prince and Nation ; notwithstanding at this instant, their maritime strength is not totally so contemptible, having a very stately and considerable armada of handsom gallies in most of their Mediterranean ports, as at Toulon, Marseilles, and other places, which are vessels of excellent use and service upon those seas. On the ocean, I confess, both their shipping and traffique have been alike trivial ; and yet of late they have greatly augmented their fleet, especially since the time (to our nations egregious shame and dishonor) that they have made so large inroads and gaps into Flanders, towards the sea coasts ; witness those strong towns and havens of Dunkirk Mardike, &c. stout forts and very commodious harbors for shipping ; so that a little time (if we will still suffer it) may likewise furnish them with ships enough to make them stand in a bolder competition with their neighbors. But the more principall nerve of the French power consists in his 85 forces at land; and amongst them (as hath already been touched) / chiefly his cavalry, which Is a strength and spectacle both of admiration cavairytf France and gallantry, they being for the greater part composed of gentlemen, e^*^'/ who generally so bequeath themselves to this service, that hee who (amongst them) hath not made two or three campagnas (as they use to term It) by that time he is 18 years of age, Is esteemed as a person lasche, that Is, of a soft education and small repute : besides, the horse ^*« *<»*» "» *■ exercise proper ta IS an exercise unto which they have so naturall a disposition aud ad- "t^ French youth. dresse, that the whole earth doth not contain so many academies dedi- Their academtes^ cated chiefly to this discipline, and other martiall gymnastlques, ««*«<'*'• wherein they handsomly attain to competent perfection in whatsoever is active and proper for their youth and Inclinations.^ And what Incomparable souldlers this country hath in all ages bred, SmUieryof we need look out no further for testimoay, then their many past and ■m^ed.'^ present acquisitions and enterprises, under Harcourt, Condy, Gassion, and infinite others ; besides (what Is no trivial mark of our assertion), the multitudes of such who are at present Imployed In the services of foreign Princes. Very undenyable It Is that the Spanish infantry is SpanUhandFrr.^ too hard tor the French foot ; for the peasants of France (of whom ''"■*<'• they should naturally consist) are thought (and that upon good grounds) to be more then accidentally improper and mal-adr'oict for that service. Howbelt, we finde (and that by quotidian experience) that custome or something else more propitious hath much altered and reformed their natures, even in this particular instance : and for ought I perceive, they keep what they have gotten, and become as good soiildiers as those who brag so much of their lowsie and tenacious epitheton; but I must confess how few Indigene and naturall Spaniards serve now against them ; all the old brave foot having been for the greater part slain, or continued unrecruited at and since the signal battle of Rocroy, where (though with their own destinies) they bravely made good that general and worthy repute which the world hath of the infantry of that nation. And however, had his reproach a more solid ground, yet that a saying of Ma>- saying of Machlavel in his RitrattI, that Lefanterie che si fanno in ''*•"*'*'• Francia non passono essere molto buone, perc/id gli egran tempo chenon hanno avuto guetra, e per guesta non kanno sperienza aleuna.* &c. * Ritratti delle Cose delta Francia. Opere de Machiavelli, Tom. II. p. 131. ed. Firenze, 178?. 4to.. oo is now no more an argument, then that the premises being changed, the conclusion must needs remain, considering that the cause being taken away through their present exercise and perpetual war, the effect and defect must of fconsequence ensue, as we have already suffi- ciently proved : or admit it were yet so, I hope the Swisse and other faithful mercenaries to that Crown, abundantly supply all these wants and prejudices, most of which, yet notwithstanding for my part, were, I think, first hired rather out of consideration of diversion, and since custom, then otherwise out of any pure necessity. That likewise which made the armies of France sb inconsiderable for native foot soldiers, may with much reason too (if we please) be attributed unto Lewis the lultZg'thl . Eleventh his disarming of the Commons ; by w;hich advice the King indeed became more absolute at home amongst his vassals, but a great deal less formidable abroad amongst his enemies ; and herein it was that his neighbors stood him in stead. Another thing rendring this kingdom very considerable for an army, France abundant is, their prolifiquc multiplying; for Europe embraceth not a more victuals. populous nation, nor more abounding in victuals, which is the belly of that cruel beast, called war; so fertil, I say it is, that when Charles the , Fift entred into France by Provence, and afterwards by Champagne, it nourished (besides the many garrisons thereof) more then an hundred and fifty thousand ravenous soldiers; and even in the time of Charles the Sixth, there were found in this kingdom twenty thousand horse, and thirty thousand foot, all consisting of strangers ; and fifteen thousand horse, and one hundred thousand foot, all of natural French. And verily, when we have seriously surveighed the complication of enemies, which once invested this kingdom, when for extent and com- mand it was far inferior to what it is at present, since the English have been dispossessed, Navar adjoyned, and other additions of great strength : I say, when England, Germany, 'Spain, and Italy, invaded it on all parts, in the reign of Francis the First, as it will appear, how potent and able this kingdom united is to defend itself : so doth the consideration of it seem to me most strange, and altogether portentous. Stare of Arms, Addc to thcsc advantages, their store of good arms and munition. Ammunition, and _ '-' iii/>'ii . Artillery. excellent attillery, many famous and well furnished magazines ; in sum. 87 why should I further tire you with particulars, when their present exploits, and almost continual triumphs, have planted the flower de lyces where ever they break ground. Witness those renowned adven-r JnHent and late tures since Charlemaigne, St. Lewis, Charles d'Anjou, Charles the Eighth, &c. ; whose heroicque atchievements and glorious trophies have filled all histories and countrey^, even as far as Asia herself; witness their expeditions and successes at Jerusalem, In Egypt, Barbary^ Cyprus, Greece, .Naples, Saxony, Hungary, and sundry other places, even in these our times, and before our own doors ; witness all their late acquists and conquests in Catalonia, Spain, Italy, Flanders, &c. : besides the signal battels and sieges of Nordlingen, Rocroy, Perpignian, Theonvil, Arras, Dunkirk, &c. : not to repeat the miraculous, or rather ingenious reduction of La Rochel, Montpelier, and other impregnable holds appertaining to the Protestants : so that if now we see them begin to decline, and refund what they have so hastily swallowed down, it is but the fate of all humane undertakings, all things having a period The common fate . 1 . 1J J.U J. U J L • • of all humane m this world, that had a beginnmg. enterprises. And now, albeit the Church (who is neer a good third part of France) chmch neer a doth in most places (as the proverb goes) neither lose nor defend any i<\arSe^ " thing; yet here, in times of publick and emergent necessities, have they been made contribute most bountifully towards the maintaining of armies and supplyes. Nor are the frontiers and maritime coasts of this kingdom so ill Frontiers and fortified now, as in former times ; but there hath been of late so thorough how fortified ai' , present, a reformation and care had in that regard, that it were hard to call to minde a considerable place at present but is capable to support a long and strenuous resistance ; especially those harbours and keys of -the country which respect our coasts ; as Haver, Calais, Dieppe,, and divers other places of importance. In fine, France is at this present grown to that stature, so well state of Fr: planted, and commodiously laid to it self, that (but for their own mad- nesse, and the feared fate of these times, which already begins to work) in the reall interest and balance with her neighbours, it were high time she were now a little observed, and a non-ultra fixed unto her proceedr anontur""^*- ings and future aspirings : nor doubt I at all, but if the Low Countries -^^a^^^*^ 88 The greatness of Spain suspicious, and how jar it concerns us. The humour of the Spaniards likened. Englands best bulwark and ba- lance. Qu. Elizabeths policy. Danger in the Accession of the Low Countries to Fr. That theSpaniaril hath no pretence to alienate t?te French sulg'ects, by his instruments the Jesuits, and why. Genius andnature of the people. CtEsars saying of the Gallilnsubres. were able to preserve her neutrality, but England with Spain (as poor and contemptible as she is now grown) may one day so exercise this ambitious kingdom, as she may be glad to contain herself within her Own confinesj without molesting or incommoding of her neighbours. I deny not, that even the greatnesse of Spain her self were as much to be apprehended, equally as dangerous, did not her accustomed swell- ing and unnatural plethory most certainly incline to a tympanic, rather then shew it proceeded from any strong and sane constitution : their over-grasping humour being much like his, who desiring a good hand- full of sand, by griping it over hard, loseth more through his fingers then he can carry away in all his palm. So that in this case our onely best bulwark is France ; and (vice versd) opposed to their power, Spain, so long as this antipathic amongst them continues, and they remain in one entire bodie. For this cause it was, and for no other, that Queen Elizabeth would very wisely by no means consent to that offer of can- tonizing this kingdom, when in the time of the late league she was offered a considerable share. But on the other side, the accession of the Low Countries to this Empire were beyond all comparison more perilloTis then if they had also never started aside from their lawfull master; and this by reason of their situation, vicinity, ports, traffick, towns of defence ; the Infinite disadvantages whereof we should soon acknowledge to our cost and ignominy. As touching the Protestants, they are yet so numerous in France, and the Roman Catholicks so averse in that point, as there can never spring up the least appearance of hope that the King of Spain should ever pretend any thing in this country by way of inclination or defec- tion ; however, the late Jesuites (notwithstanding all those strict edicts and bans made against them) begin to swarme and re-establish them- selves. And so I have done with the more generall remarks worthy your consideration. I shal onely say a word or two of the people and of Paris in particular, and so finish this task. Concerning the nature and genius of the inhabitants, that which the Prince of Politicians gives out of the French, where he. affirms that / Francesi sono per natura piii fieri, che gagliardi 6 destri, nuon what Cesar of old said of the Galli Insubres, that in the beo-inning 8& they appeared more then men, bttt proved in the conclusion lesse then Women, retains in it still something of their present jpromptriesse, and as sudden discouragement: Upon Which observation, the fore-cited Florentine notably advlseth, chi vuole superare i Frartcesi si guardi dalprimo loro impeto,%c. "that he who would vanquish the French^ should be sure to withstand and break thieir first brusk and onset:" because they usually rush on danger like a torrent, and in a des- perate fury, when they first charge and ,joyn battel!: but as nothing French fwry at which is violent is permanent, so expectation as soon rulnes, and utterly daunts their courage. But as for their intellectuals, and more noble part, such of them as Learned mm v. France. dedicate themselves to-letters and erudition prove as polite scholers and as trim wits as any Italian of them all. The greater part of them, I ednfesse, and ordinary pretenders, please themselves more In analyticall and cursory speculatiotis, to which one may take post at every pillar In the streets, where you shdl never fail of some ;bragadocio HIppias, who like some intellectus universalis, professes, and will undertake to render Pedantry »/ any man an exact and perfect Philosopher, Divine, Orator, Chymist ; or to teach him all languages, and indeed, what not, within the space of a month or two; which kind of table method and Lulllan art renders many of them, even to the very mechanlcks, most egregious -talk^s, and intblleraibly pragmatical 1. Add unto this, their levelling of learning, and layine; all authors In Their levelling ^ •> >=> of learning. eommOri, by^their Intemperate translations, having but of very late put all the Orations of Cicero Into French, as It is long since that the poets hav« been made orators : for there is nothing more frequent then the turning of them into prose. Amongst the Faculties of Paris, tiiere are some good d^^yAxon^ tm Faculties of Divines ; ^ut their school exercises are dull and perfunctory things, in competition with what was wont to be performed here in our univer- si^es. Generally, the Chirureians of France are preten-ders to physick, and Physicians and J ' E3 * ■ L J CM^l•^rgians of the Pl>ysiciain as great a friend to the Emperlck; especially in point of ^"J^J^j^l^" phlebotbmie, which is their panacea for all diseases. And albeit they '"'"' have bred some able and accomplish'd proficients of all these kindes, N some Professors, 90 Praise of Eng- lish Physicians, French Mecha- vicis incompar- little. French Children and Youth. Sudden decay of IVomen. Youth of the French Genl^ not bred to letters, and why. Humour in Tra- velling. No trust to the outward appear- ance. yet their common practice, in tedious and chronique as well as acute diseases, imports them rather to a sudden ease bf the patient, then any intire recovery, or security from relapse; for they study more to weaken and enervate the body, then the disease: so that they recover fewof languishing fevers, which relapse not as soon again, and for the most part perish : contrary both to the method and success of our Physicians in England; into one of whose hands I had rather put my life, then to a whole colledg of these French leaches. In. the Mechanicks, they are universally excellent, inventive, and happy ; and are of late too become far .more stay'd and constant in habit and fashion then they were wont to be : for I will undertake, our native levity and wantonnesse in that kinde hath of late yeers infinite- ly exceeded them. The French Children are the fairest letter that Nature, I think, can shew through' all the bumane alphabet ; but though they be Angels in the cradle, yet are they more like Divels in the saddle: age generally shewing, that what! she so soon bestows, she takes as fast away ; for the French (after twenty) presently strikeforty in their faces, and especially amongst their women, who are then extremely decayed, when ours, If not beautifuU, are yet very tolerable at those years ; which, whether it proceeds from the siccity of the air, drinking water, ill diet, or other accident, 1 dare not easily determine ; and yet am the rather inclined to think, something of that nature it must needs be, when we finde the women of quality for the most part as exquisite beauties as any the whole world produces, without disparaging our ladies at home, whom I would be unwilling this paragraph should in the l^ast degree oflFend.' I cannot affirm that the youth of the Gentry and Noblesse of France are altogether so literate as most of our English and fDutch are; being, as I said, of lesse phlegme, and more prompt then to fix. to those unactive studies; nor are they at all so curious and Inquisitive in their travels, unto which fewer also are inclined, but seem abundantly satis- fied, to be able to say, they have been in such or such a place. It Is a true observation of one, that a French man apnears a child at all ages; but In practice and negotiation you shall finde him a man. y** 91 It is the Field and Court which the Gentry aflfect aa the best of educa- tion; and thence I am inclined to beleeve, they contract amongst them » that itidifFerency of beleevina; and living;, in which they are generally Jndifferencyof ' -J D ■ o' J ci J Ft, in religion. more open and free then even the Italians; albeit yet not in all points so enormous as the depraved youth of England, whose prodigious dis- The French not so * a . r a disbauched as the hatcheries and late unheard of extravagancies, far surpasse the mad> Engiuh youth at O ' I present. nesse of all other civilized nations :jvhatsoever. * Gaming, also they mr more given frequent, but are in no one vice so abandoned, as to the exhausting ^.', their estates, especially in point of drink and tobacco ; which, though ATotung so tnuch it have of late got some footing upon the more vile sort, and, infected LdT, some northern parts of the kingdom ; yet fewer persons of quality use either in excesse : but what thfey do not in drink, they pay in bread, and are strange devourers of corn: they adore a good pottage Twhat- but adorers of o 'J O r O V bread and pot- ever the rest of the repast be) as the Egyptians did garlick: nor will *"s^''- a true Monsieur be brought at any rate to taste a glasse of wine, sans premier Tnanger ; which although they neither do so ranch, nor sit so Jong at it, yet they use to collation more often, the most temperate x)f ' them. The passions of the people are suddenly imported and puflFed up with Elevated and de- a victory, and as soondgected with the least repulse or loss. They are ''withvMory'ol prodigall, and splendid in externals, but seldome undoe themselves in spundidmex- house-keeping and hospitality : the best sort eat like Princes, and far '""""'*• exceed our tables ; the common, worse then dogs : generally, so they flourish and appear for a month or two in the summer, they will fare hard enough the rest of the yeer besides ; and such as minde onely their profit, have , little charity, where they see no evident interest, fuu of interest. They are exceedingly courteous, and have generally their tongues well hung ; which promptitude of theirs, as it becomes them well in en- counter, so they are for the most part of joviall conversation, and. far o/ajoviaiuon- • Til 1 • 1 • 11 n • versation, hand- from that constrained addresse which is naturall to our sullen nation, some address, and , . 1 • I "'*" spoken. who never think ourselvies acquainted, till we treat one another with Jack and Tom; familiarities which, as we finde no where else in use, censure of the . . , , , . . rude familinritie SO they commonly terminate m vaine and rude associations. of the English. The French are the sole nation in Europe that do idolize their Spve- French, reveren- reign, unto whom they have likewise a more free and immediate accesse King, and usaf- O ' , J ' • fabUity to them. 92 {^without much ceremony) then ordinarily ig to be seen in any othej- Princes Court : and this affabilitie and freedom gains them as. strangely to him; whith (certainly) is an excellent art in the one, and no liesse ^ vertue in the other. Biit, on the contrary, their choler throughly stirred, there never wants some Raviliac, or cut-throat, to perpetrate their malice ; so unstable is popular confidence. ; ■ •opinion and Finally, they have a naturall dread and hate to the English, as esteeming us, for the most part, a fierce, rude, and, barbaro.us nation : but their antipathy to a Spaniard is deadly and irreconcilable, '■re. For their bodies, they are both sexes of mean stature, rather in good lexion. point then either lean or grosse; generally swart of complexion, ex- cept such as have mixed towards the north and east : the women have commonly black ey^s, rare teeth, and sweet voices ; and certainly, so gentile and naturall an addresse, even in their most ordinary actions, that one may as easily distinguish them by it as their tongues : in fine, pfness, they are extremely prompt, and imagine to comprehend all upon an instant, which makes many to give out and tire in the journey before they be half way: for all which, and their oppressions to boot, there heer/uim- h^es not uhdcr the cope of heaven a more frank, galiard, and supine "■' "^"'' people : howbeit many of them will not stick to repine, an^ censure ■iesunwei- evcH their own victories and successes, whereof every one bu^ seems to Ay. '" ajdd a heavier weight to 'their oppression. island most Now as cvcry metropolitan and royal city is likely the best map of lilXy^"'' the country wherein it stands ; so may Paris be esteemed th6 most exact compendium of France. .site.edi. Paris is a city in a ring, whereof the Louvre or jfajace of the King is the diamond : and trciely considering the vastnesse of its circum- ference, so incomparably built all of the living rock, whereupon it is seated (which for beauty, easie working, and lastingnesSj renders it a pre-eminence above many more costly materials) I think no city in the whole world equalizes it. I have seen Naples, Rome, Florence^ Genoa, and Venice ; all stately cities, and full of Princely "fabricks ; but then I compare the extent, and here are many huiidreds of noble- mens houses, both within the town, and the environs, which altogether approach, if not exceed the best of them. This I will boldly affirm. . M. FOR G. BEDEL AND T. COLLINS, AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE, IN FLEET STREET. 1659. 105 The epistle DEDICATORY. To my most incomparable Brothers, George & Richard Evelyn, of Wooton and Woodcot, in Surrey, Esqrs. My dear Brothers, Amongst the very many diversions which I have experimented to mitigate and attemper the sorrowes which do still oppresse me, for the loss of my children, and especially of that One so precious to me *, I have found nothing that has afforded me a greater consolation then this ; that it pleased God to give me opportunities and such a subject to work upon, as I cannot but hope he has in mercy accepted. And truly, when I seriously contemplate the felicity of all those which are well out of this miserable world, I 'find the griefe which wee conceive for their absence to be a meer cultivate their minds few or none are at all solicitous. I will never desist to beseech, to entreat, knd to beg of you, thai before all things else whatsoever, yoti would now compose the manners of your children. For If thou wilt be truly indulgent to thy child, deelaTeit in this, thou shalt not lose thy reward. Hear what St. Paul saith *, " If . they continue in faith and charity, and holinesse with sobriety;" And ; though thou art conscious to thy self of never so many evils, the rather seek, out some consolation for them. Make a Champion for Christ: I do not speak it that thou shouldst coelibat him, send him into the desarts, send make him a monk ; I say not so ; I wish It Indeed, and would, with all my heart, that every man could receive it : but "since that may seem a burthen too great for him to support, I do not compel. Bring up a Champion (I say) for Christ, and whilst he remains in this world instruct him from his very cradle. If whilst he Is yet young thou imprint good principles in him^ no body shall be ever able to eiface them when he becomes more firme being then as the wax which hath received the Impression. As yet thou hast him trembling, fearful, and revering thy very looks, thy words. * 1 Timothy, chap. ii. v. 15. 115 atid every little beck. Treat him as thou shouldst at the beginning; If thou have a good child, thou wilt have the first benefit of him, and then God. Thou labourest but for thy self. 'Tis reported, that when pearles are first taken up, they are only little drops of water, so that he which receives them being skilful, placing the drops in his hand, and exquisitely turning. them in his palm, renders them- perfectly round and polished. But whea once they have attained their perfect shape and become hard, thfey are no more to be moulded to every mans fancy ; foe that which, is soft is every .way flexible, being not as yet compacted, and therefore is. easily drawn which way one pleaseth ; ]but that which is hard, as having once attained a disposition to stiflFnesse, is with diffi- culty to be moved, .or susceptible of any other form. liCt then every one of us (who are •' parents) as we behold painters adorning their pictures and statues with so much exactneisse, be dili- gently sjtudioas about these wonderful statues. For when painters have once designed a picture, they work every day about it to bring it to per- fection ; the same do statuaries^ abating what is superfluous, and adding whatsoever is deficient. So you also, like so many statuaries, bend, all ybur endeavors, , as preparing those admirable statues for God, take away that which is superfluous, add that which- you find w-anting .• consider every day how they abound in natural endowments, that you may timely augment them : what natural defects you espy, that you may accord- ingly abate them: but with all sedulity, and above all things, be careful to exterminate unseemly speeches, for this custom begins extremly tp infect the minds of youth ; yea, and before he have essayed it, teach him to be sober, to be vigilant and assiduous in his devotions, and upon whatsoever he saith or doth to put, the seal upon it* Imagine thy self a (TippsytSot king who hast a city to govern, the mind of thy child ; for really the mind is a city ; and as in a city some are thieves, some live honestly, some labourj and others transact all they do foolishly ; just so it is with the discourses and cogitations of the mind ; some of them strive and mi- litate against injuries, like as in a city there are souldiers ; some of these thoughts provide for the body and houshold, like the senators of a city ; others command in chief, such as are governors ; some speak lascivious thino-s, such as shamelesse men, others naore modest, such as are modest 116 persons : some againe are efFeminate, as women be amongst us ; others discourse more indiscreetly, like children ; some domineer as if over vassals, because they are domesticks ; others as over the free borne, because they are noble and ingenuous. We. must therefore of necessitie have laws, that we may exterminate these evil cogitations and cherish those which are good ; but never let us permit the evil to rebel against the good. For as in a city, if one should constitute laws giving liberty and impunity to thieves, it would soon subvert all : and if the souldiers pursue their fury without respect to what is fit, all things fall to confu- sion ; and if every one quitting his due order, take upon him to prose- cute that which belongs to another, by this usurpation and avarice he violates and utterly spoiles the whole government. It is truly no other- wise in that which we have spoken. , The mind of a child is therefoje a city, a city newly built and fur- nished, a city full of new inhabitants, and as yet wholly unexperienced. 'Tls an easie matter to instruct and model such : for those which have been at first possest and grown up with evil principles, such as are many old persons, are truly with great difficulty reformed, though neither is that impossible (for even they themselves may be converted if they will) but such as are totally ignorant, will with ease embrace the laws which you en joyn them. Establish laws therefore in this city, and for those who are denisons of it, formidable and severe laws, which if any shall dare to violate, ap- prove thyself a governor and revenge it ; for it is to no purpose to enact laws, unlesse punishment be also inflicted : make laws then, and look diligently to your work ; for know, that wee impose lawes upon no lesse then the universe it selfe. To day we build a city, let the four senses be the bulwarks and the gates, and let all the rest of the bodie be as the walls. Now these gates are the eyes, the tongue, the eares, and the nose, and (if you please) also the touch. Through these overtures it is that the dtizens go out and in ; that is to say, by these ports it is that our co- gitations are corrupted or amended. Go to then, and first let us go to the gate of the tongue, since this is of all the rest the chief, and the greatest port ; let us now prepare for it the doors and its barres, not of wood nor of iron, but of gold, for the very 117 city it self which is thus built is of gold, and not any man, but he that isi the King of the Universe shall keep his court in this city, if thus you prepare it: and you shall perceive by the processe his speech, in what parts of this city to consign him a palace.. Let us therefore make the doors and the barrs for it of gold, I say ; namely, the Oracles of God, as the Prophet speaketh. " The words of God are more delicious than honey or the honey comb, above gold and much precious stone *." Let us teach them to have these things continually in their mouths and wheresoever they stir, and that not slightly, nor perfunctorily or sel- dom, but without ceasing. Nor is it yet sufficient that the doors be overlayed with gold, but they must be framed altogether of solid gold, and having the precious stones fixed one against another without. Let, the Crosse of our Lord be the barre of thesfe gates, which is, indeed, every where inchased with stones of price : let this then bee put athwart the middle of the gates ; and when we shall thus have made the doores fast, solid, and of gold, and shut to the bolt, let us then make them worthy citizens ; namely, by instructing the child to speak gravely and piously, banishing all strangers out of town, lest otherwise a certaine impure and infected rabble enter, and commix themselves with our citizens, such as are reproachful words, injurious and foolish, filthy speeches, secular and worldly ; all these let us eject ; nor, besides the King only, permit any to passe these gates ; but to him, and to all his retinue, let them be still opened, according as it is said of it f, ^' This is the gate of the Lord, the righteous shall enter into it." And, with the" blessed Paul J, '■ If there be any word which is good to the use of edi- fying, that it may minister grace to the hearers." Let their talk be giving of thanks, modest songs, and let them alwayes be discoursing of God, and of that philosophy which is from above. But which way shall we now eifect all this ? and from what topicks shall we instruct them ? If we become severe judges of the actions which they do, for in a child there is an extraordinary facility. How ? He contends not for wealth nor for glory ; he is yet a child : not for a wife, not for children, not for an house; therefore what occasion * Psalm xix. ver. 1 1 . and Psalm cxix. ver. 103. f Psalm jd. verse ?0. f Eph. ch. iv, ver. 29. 118 hath he to injure or traduce any one ? He only contends with his equals. Appoint him a law immediately, that he wrong none, that he defame none, that he do not swear, that he be peaceable ; and if you shall perceive him to transgresse this law, chastize him some- times with a sterne countenance, sometimes with sharp reproofs, such as may go to the quick, and upbraid him, and now and then sooth and flatter him with promises. Treat him not alwayes with blows, nor accustome thyself so, to chastize him j for if thou art used to correct him every day, he will soon learne to dei^pise it, and having once learned to do so, it utterly marres all : rather cause him alwayes to fear the rod, not alwayes to feel it : shake indeed the scourge, but touch him not with it, neither from threats proceed to the work: but let him hot know that your words are only menaces ; f6r then threatenings are only proper/ when children believe they will proceed to deeds : for if the offender once understand this oeconomy, he will soon cOntemrife it : let him therefore expect to be chastized, but yet let him not be chastized, lest it extinguish his reverence ; rather let it remaine like a glowing fire, and every where burn up the thornes, or, like a keen pick-axe, let it dig to the very bottom. And when once you perceive that you have gained any fruit by fear, remit a little, for there is due even to our vel-y natures some relaxation. Teach him to be modest and courteous ; but if you perceive him to do any injury to his servant, connive not at it, but check your child though free; for bee that shall see he is not permitted to reproach his very lacquey, will much lesse dare to injure or miscal one that is free-borne and his equal. Lock up his niouth from ill lan- guage ; if you find him accusing of any, stop the mouth, and convert your tongue against her own errors. Admonish his mother, his paedagogue and his set-vantj that they still speak and inculcate the same things to the child, that they may all of them be his keepers together, and diligently observe that none of those evil cogitations proceed from hi^ mouth, and those golden portals. Do not imagine that the thing requires so much time, provided that from the beginning thou presse it earnestly upon him, threaten, and dost constitute so many guards over him. Two months will be sufficient all things will be redressed, the business established, and pass into very nature it selfe. 119 By this means will this gate be made worthy for the Lord, when there shall, be neither .filthy speech, scurrility^ nor folly, or any such thing, but Ml as becomes such, a Master. For as those who train up their children to serve the State in the wars, immediately instruct their war- like youth in the art of s.hooting, to put on the corslet, and manage the great horse, their age and stature being, no impediment ;< how much rather then those which are entered into the heavenly militia,' ought they to provide themsfelves with those accoutrements for the service of their King ? Learn him, therefore, to sing" praises to God, that he have no, leisure for im purer songs and foolish discourses. ... And be this gate thus guarded, and such citizens elected ; the rest let us destroy within, as the bees do the drones, not suffering them to go forth, or once to buz at .home. . ]3ut .now let us proceed to the next gate. What is that ? even that which is the, next,, and .of our near affinity with it, 1 mean the Hearing ; for .th^t. gate indeed hath citizens which passe out from within, but npn^ have admission through it j but;in this they enter in from without, and ,there are none which by it do sally forth. This, therefore,- hath gfeat , ?iffinity with the other; for if no filthy nor polluted thing be suffered to climb up by this portal, there will be no great difficulty to pre^rve the other ; since he which doth not heare filthy and wicked things, does not likely speak wicked things ; but if these lie open and common to a.11, the danger will be great, and give disturbance to all that are withijo. This then, peradventure, were first to have been spoken of, and the.entrance tojiave bin secured. Let children, therefore, heare nothing impertinent,^ neither of their doipestlfiks nor their governors, nor their nurse : for as plants have then most need flf care, when they are yong and tender, so have children. Provide them careful and virtuous nurses, that a good foundation Ije l£^id at first, and that from their very infancy they receive nothing of evil. Let them then never hear any foolish and old wives fables : such a person (says he) gave such a one a kisse ; the Emperors son and his little daughter did this and this ; permit them to hear none of these matters ; but other things they may hear, so they be related without any circumlocution, and with all fidelity. They may, indeed, hear the 1.20 discourses of their servants, and those which wait upon them : but 'tis not fitting to mix with all promiscuously, and with the domesticks in general : but let them be known what they are, as it becomes them whom we take as assistants for the framing of these artificial statues. For if it be necessary that being skilful architects, and building a palace for the Prince, we admit not all the servants in common to be our associates in the edifice ; shall we now, when we are erecting a city, and making citizens for the King of Heaven, admit of all rashly to the work ? Let those servants vi^hich are indeed fitted for it be taken to our assistance : and in case we can find none, enquire after some inge- nuous person for a stipend, such a one as is virtuous ; and commit rather all things to him, that he be taken in as a coadjutor of the work. Let them by no means therefore hear such idle fables ; but when the child is to have relaxation from his taske (for the mind is much de- lighted to stay a little upon old stories) discourse freely to him, and withdrawing him as much as possible from childish sports, remember thou bringest up a philosopher, and a champion, and a citizen of Heaven. Discourse therefore with him, and tell him — Once upon a time at the beginning, a father had two sons, both pf them brothers. Here pause a little ; then go on. ,They came both out of the same body, one of them was the elder, and the other the younger. The first was a husbandman, and his brother was a shepherd, that us'd to lead out his flock upon the downes and amongst the thickets. Sweeten then your discourse with some pretty diversion, that the child may take delight in what you say, least it becomes tedious. The other sowed s6ed in the ground and planted trees. But upon a time they went to serve God, and the shepherd taking the very best lamb of all his flock offered it up to God. Is it not d thousand times better to discourse these things to them, then to amuse them with I know not what won- ders of the Golden Fleece, and the like ? Then encourage his attention again ; for the narration itself is a very serious matter, there is ndthinp- in it false, all is out of Scripture. Now because he offered to God the firstling and prime of his flock, there came presently fire down from Heaven, and snatched up all that lay upon the altar. But the elder brother did not behave himself in this manner but out .. 121 he goes, and reserves for himself the best and first-fruits of his labours, offering the second and the worst to God ; and God accordingly had ' no respect unto it, but slighted and turned from it : letting it He still upon the ground ; when as the others he received up to himself. Just as it happens with those who are the stewards and bailiffs over our farmes, when they come to present their fruits : one of them his master honours and brings him into the house, the other he lets stand regardlesse ' without. Just so it fell out here. But what followed this now ? Why, the elder brother became dejected, and as one that saw himself despised and not approved of, walks melancholy out. And God saves to him, 'Wherefore art thou so sad ? knowest thou not that thou didst oflFer to God } why then didst thou me that injury ? What hadst thou to com- plain of ? How comes it to pass that thou oflFredst the refuse to me ?' Here, if you think fit to descend more to his capacity, you may add. That he having nothing at all to reply, held his peace and answered not a word. ^ 'A little after this, spying his yonger brother, he sayes to him, * Cdme, prithy, let us walk a little out in the fields ;' and when they were there, surprising him treacherously, and being stronger, he kills his poor brother, and thought that he should conceal it all from God. But God comes to him, and asks him, ' Where is thy brother ?' ' What can I tell ?' replies he ; ' Am I my brothers keeper ?' Then sayes God to him, * Behold thy brother's blood cryes to me from the earth.' Let the mother sit by whilst the mind of the child is moulding with ' these discourses, that she now and then interpose, and praise that whiqh is recounted. But what followed all this ? God took him up into heaven, and he being dead, lives above for ever. By this means the child will begin to learn the doctrine of the resurrection ; for they use to relate such stories in fables : They made her (sayes one) a demi- goddess, and the child believes it, and though he know not what a demi-god is ; yet he imagines it something which is more then a man, and he wonders presently at the hearing of it • how much more, then, when he shall hear of the resurrection, that his soul ascended into heaven, and that God immediately took him up. But as for the mur- therer, having lived many years after, miserably unfortunate, and conti- R 12g nually in fear and trembling, h^ §ufFer§d innumerable evils, and was punished every day. Speak tp hiin concerning the punition with terror, not gently. Th^t- hje hes^rd God say, * Thou ghalt be groaning and trembling upon thp f&ce of the earth/ The phild indeed knows -not what this signifies at first ;' but say It, however. As you, when you stand perplexed before your master, shortly to be whipped, tremble and fear ; so he lived all his life-time;, s^ftpr he had thus Qflpended God. And hitherto shall sufficcjfor the firgt. ? : .' , Afterwards, one evening ag you are at supper, talke of this again to him, and let his mother repeat the same things ; and then when he hath heard it ^evieral times over, require it of him. ' My son, recite mid the stpry ; and, the nipre tp encourage him, when ypu find he hath retained it, you shall prpppse to him some reward, The mind will, indeed, upon tjie first narration of this history, gather some fruit by you, as you m&ke the deduction. After this, say thus: 'Do yousee^ child, what a horrible thing it is to envy ones brother .' Do you ner-^ ceive what a crime it is to think one can hide any thing from God } for be sees ^U things ; yea, even those things which are committed, sin secret.' So that sowing this doptrine onely in the child, thou wilt have no n^ed of a pedagogue, since the feare which the Deity doth hereby; work in him, will affect the child beyond every -pther apprehension whatsoever, and extreamly niove his mind. -.., But this, is not all; .you shall l§ad him also Jo church, and then espe- cially when the lesson is rejad, how you shall perceive him to exult dance and, r^jbyce, that what every body does not know he does, out- running in hisrunderstanding the words of the minister, and arg^jng thit iheiknowes that already, and receiving^wpriderfull fruit by it. And by this the thing will become sufficiently fixed in his memory. ' J.Theye are many other advantages to be reaped from this narration. fo- ! Let him be taught, therefore by you,^ thHt from the very beginning, from the ;dg4jh pf this ehild, we are instructed not to grieve when we are aiHieled, seeing be who was, thus accepted, was by death ^received up into heaven. When this, narration shall he well rooted in the mind of the child, introduce another, as that pf other two brothers, and say ' Ifherf were also pt^er two brpthers, an elder and a ypungfer ; the elder of 1S3 them was a hunter, the younger was a keeper and lover of home ;' and this hath somewhat of more delight in it then the former (as being full of more variety of emergencies, and thfe persons which manage it beiiig more in yeares then the former). * Now these were also two brdthers, and both of them twins; but when they were born, the mother loved the younger, but the father was more fond of the elder, who was wont to pass his time abroad in the fields ; but the younger kept altogether at home. Upon a day, his father being now very aged,'? said to him whom he loved, ' Son, seeing I am now an old man, goe thy way, I pray, and prepare for me some venison : that is, take me a ro-buck, or an hare, and bring it to me, that when I havfe eaten of it I may blesse thee :' but to the younger he said nothing at all. Now the mother over-hearing all that the father said, calls her youngest son, and says to him, ' Son, since thy father has commanded thine elder brother to bring him some venison, that eating of it he may give him his blessing, hearken what I say to thee : hasten immedi- ately to the-flock, and fetching therlce some young fat kids, bring them hither to me, atid I will make such as thy father loves, and thou shalt carry it to him, that when he has tasted of it, he may blesse thee ;' for the father was dark through extremity of age. ■ Now when the youtiger had brought her the kids, his mother stewed them, and putting the viands iiitoa dish, delivers it to her son, who carried it in : and she also clad him with the skins of the goats, least he should be discovered, seeing he was Smooth, but his brother was all hairy and rough; that by this mean's it might be concealed, and his father not discern the imposture : and thus accoutred, in she sent him. Now the good old man supposing him to have been the elder, having eaten the meat, blessed him. And when he had made ah end of blessing him, in comes the elder brother, bringing the venison : but perceiving wHat had hapned, roaring out aloud, he wept lamentably. Observe now what a world of benefit this will produce, and do not recoutit all the story at on6e, but see what profit will spring from this. For in the first place, children will learn to reverence their paretits, per- ceiving how they cotitehdfed for the blessing, and will rather 'endure a thousand stripes then once to hear their father curse them. 124 If you fill their thoughts with such like stories, so as they may ima- gine them worthy of beliefe (as indeed they are very truths), how will it not affect and fill them full of reverence ? By this also they will learn to contemne gluttony (for that is likewise t6 be told them), and that he gained nothing by being the first-borne and the eldest, since by the intemperance of his belly, he betrayed the excellency of his birth- right. Now when the child shall have throughly remembred this, upon some other evening, thou shalt require him to repeate this story of the two brothers. And if he begin to speak of Cain and Abell, recall him, and say, ' I do not mean this, but that of the two other, whom the father gave his blessing to ;' thus giving him some hints, but without men- tioning the names, and when he has recited it all, add as followes, and say, ' Mark now what hapned after this : this also sought to have slain his brother, and for that end expected onely his fathers decease,; which the mother coming to hear of, and fearing it, caused her son to flee away.' Much philosophy, far exceeding the apprehension of the child, may be hence (with a little condescention) implanted into the spirit of the child, so that the narration be skilfully and dexterously handled. Thus therefore let us tell him. This same brother went his way, and came to a certain place, having nobody with him, not so much as a servant, no fosterer, no attendant, nor any person besides. Being arrived to the place, he prayed, and said, ' O Lord, give me, I beseech thee, bread and clothing, and save me ;' and having said thus, overcome with sorrow, he fell asleep ; and there he saw in a dream a ladder reaching up from the earth to the heavens', and the angels of God ascending and descending, and God himself standing at the top of all. Then he said, ' Bless me ;' and h* blessed him, and called him Israel. It comes happily into my mind, arid now I remember, that from the very names anothei" instruction may be inserted, and' what is that ? viz. That from the appellations we presently introduce a certain emulation of vertue in children. Let none, therefore, be forward to name their chil- dren for the memory of their fathers, or mothers, or grandfathers : but of the righteous, of the martyrs, bishops, and apostles. Be this also their emulation ; let this child be called Peter, that John, and another 125 by the appellation of some holy man, and talke not to me of the Gentil names ; for (believe it) it is no small reproach, and worthy of derision, when in a Christian family some heathen ceremonies are performed, and they light up the lamps, and watch which of them shall first go out and be spent, with other the like fopperies, which bring no little detri- ment to those which practise them ; for do not imagine that these are small matters or trifles which are done. This, therefore, I require of you, that you impose the names of the righteous upon your children, for it was the custom in the beginning (not without reason) that they called their children by the names of their ancestors, it being a kind of consolation against mortality, that he which was gone seemed still to live, by reason of his name : but now this custom is quite out of request. Truly we see that the righteous did not so call their children, for Abraham begat Isaac : Jacob and Moses were not called after their ancestors na:mes, nor do we find any of the just so called. O what an example will here be of virtue, of consolation, and of exhortation. And moreover neither do we find any Other cause of changing names besides this only, that it may be a monument of virtues. Thou, saith he, shalt be called Cephas, which is, being expounded, Peter *. Why so } Because thou didst confesse. And thou shalt be called Abraham. Why so.? Because thou art a father of nations f. And Israel, because he did see God J. Hence, therefore, let us begin our care over our children, and institute their lives. But as I said, he saw a ladder reaching to the heavens and touching it; let the names therefore of the saints enter into your houses, by the appellations of your children, that by this means it may not alone com- pose the manners of the children, but of the fathers also ; when he shall remember himself to be the son of John, of Elias, of Jacob, seeing those names were circumspectly and piously imposed, and for the honour of those that are departed. Thus, therefore, let us court the affinity of the righteous rather then of our progenitors. This likewise will be very beneficial both to us and * Mat. c. 16. V. IS. t Gen. c. 17. v. 5. J Gen. c. 32. v. 23. 126 our chiWferi : nor because thd instance is small, think it to be;S for the supposition is exceedingly profitable. But, as I said, Jet u ceed to that which follows. He spied a ladder fixed, he sough blessing, and God did bless him : He travelled to his kindre( became a shepherd to his kinsman, then treated with him concerr wife, and of his return. jt.And ht^re also there will result a wc advantage; observe but what a deal he will learn. . That being born, he despise no man, not to be ashamed of poverty^ that h adversity coufagiously, and then all the rest. After this, when 1 little older, relate thiilgs 'that afe fnore terrible ; but being as yet t impose not such a burthen on hitn, lest thou too much terrific and him; but when he h«ls attained to fifteen years old, or shall be bigger, let him hear of the pains of hell; and when he is about I eight, or less, tell him what. happened alt the Deluge, of Sodo ^gypt, which examples are full of severity, and acquaint him ,w these jjarticulars at large. Being then grown bigger, instruct 1 matters of the New Testament, of Grace, of Hell. By these iand i other narrations and familiar examples,* guafd and secure his ears Butif any man come in with a false tale, by no means (as I s^ him be admitted. If you find a servant speaking filthily befoi" chastise him for it immediately, and be thy self a severe and censor of whatsoever evil they do.' Butif by chance thou espy a maid (yea' rather let there be no such approach him), let her much as light the fire; unless it be some old woman,, which has n to attract a young man. From a young maid, I say, flie rathe frbm the fire ; and by this means it will come to pass, that he hears nothing impertinent, will speak nothing impertinent. therefore, let them be brought up. But we proceed now to another port — the Smelling: for th brings a very great inconvenience with it, unless timely barr'd are odours an^ incense ; there being nothing which more dissob frame and tenor of the mind, nothing that more softens it, then i be affected with sweet smells. What, then, says he, * ought one i pleasure in dirt ?' I do not say so ; but neither with this nor th Let none therefore bring him sweet ointments, for as soon 127 once affects the brain, It effeminates and softens all the rest : hence alsp lusts are incited, and in that do lurk Innumerable snares. Therefore lock up that gate securely. Fpr the faculty of smelling is to hreathe the air, not to receive perfjujaes. Some ihere are which peradveniur]© will deride all this, as though whjlest we discourse of this nurture, yv.^ trouble ourselves about trifles : but in truth the matter is not small ; but the very basis, instruction, and institution of the whole world, tha,t these things be duly performed, .-? i i, , .'i / II .< i. There is likewise another ^ate, more specious then the former, but of exceeding difficulty to guard, namely, that of the eyes, as being- rais'd on' high, set In the front and beautified. This has many smaller leaves, by which it not onely sees but is seen. If It be gallantly framed. Here then there is great necessity of laws, one of the priaGipal whereof let be, never to send the child to the theater, lest thereby he receiv.e ari entire overthrow at onqe, both by the ears and by the eyes: andilet his attendant observe this especially In the markets, and'whllest he passes through the by-knesand atrpets, cajc-efull that he never fall into that debauchery. Now to the end he may receive no hafhi by being seen, there are divers* things to be considered. Deprive him of all over-costly apparel and superfluous ornaments, let him wear his hair modestly short, and If the ;boyitake it baloously, as If he were dis- figured by It, teach him this first. That Itrls^.the greatest ornament. "« Now that he may not-ga^ey sufficient to preserve : him wUl ihe? those, stdries of the Sons of God,;wbidi happened on the Daughters of Men, and of the Sodomites, Hell, and: such like instances. Here then^mtjist the Governour .andfhe ithatvvaits on him, be wonderfull carefulL and solllcitousj shew him tbefefore other beautiftjU) objects, drawltig^away his eyes from these things: such as are the heavens, the starsfy the flowers of the earth, the meadows,, fair, books, &c, : these therefore let him delight his eyes withall; and there are maijiy other objects besides, ^ wiilchare very inoffensive ; for; it is a Port extreamly diffitaijtto guard; for as. much as It has a fire burning within, and a kind of naturjil neces- sity as 1 may say. Teach him some divine verses. And thus, unless, he be inwardly Incited, he.(»;ill not cafe, to be seen ,^broad. Be sure that he never bath with w upon any thing, when he shall need no mans service, when he shall envy no man's being preferr'd in honour before him, what room will there be left for anger ? It is now time that we speak of concupiscence. Here also chastity is two-fold, and the violation of it a double loss. I conceive that -young men should neither be dishonestly loved, nor dishonestly love young maids. Physitians sayj that presently after the fifteenth year youths are vehemejjtly, inflamed with the lust of concupiscence. How shall we now fetter this beast? What is there to be done? What bridle shall we put on it ? I know of no other then the fear* of hell it self. First therefore, let us be carefull that he neither see nor hear any thing which is filthy ; nor by any means suffer an ingenuous youth to frequent the 133 theater. But if he seek for these pleasures, if you know of any his contemporaries which deny themselves that vanity, shew th«m to him, that by their example he may be reduced : for there is nothing in the world which does sooner redresse it then emulation, no, not any; -And in every thing else let us observe this rule, especially' if you perceive him to be of an emulous disposition. It is a great deal more effectual then either fear or promises, or whatsoever else. To these let us devise some other innocent divertisements, bring him to holy men, grant him relaxation, and give him< rewards, that thereby his mind may be the less troubled at it; and instead of these spectacles propose to him some pleasant story, talk- to him of meadows, of sump- tuous buildings, and after-wards wheel off your discourse with an .appli- cation. Tell him, these 'spectacles, son, are for base and servile per- sons, to behold -naked women speaking immodestly. Promise- me that thou wilt not hear nor say any thing that is dishonest, and I permit thee to go : but it cannot be, it is impossible that thou shouidest there hear nothing which is vile. The thitigs that are there acted, are unworthy thy eyes, my son. And in saying this, let us kiss and embrace him, that he may perceive how dearly we love him. With aH these stratagems let us entice him. What then ? As I said already, let a young maid never approach him, nor do any. service about him, but some ancient maid or woman that is well stricken in years. Discourse to him concerning the kingdomCj and of such as have been illustrious for their chastity, as well those without the pale as amongst ourselves; and with these let us perpetually fill his ears; nay, if we have servants that excel in chastity and sobriety, propose them likewise for examplesy seeing it would be a great. reproach, that a ser- vant should fbe modest, and that a free person, a gentleman,' should be sordid. There is yet another expedient, and what is it.' Let liim learn to fest, if not always, yet twice a week, Wednesdays and Fnydays at least. Cause him to frequent the church. And when the father walks with him abroad, towards the evening, at- the time that the shows are done -and -the theatres are dissolved, let him show him.- those that ^re coming away, and laugh at the old fcrals who as yet have not the dis- 134 cretion of striplings, and' at the young men who are fired with filthy- lusts. Then let him ask the boy, what he thinks all they have gain'd ? Truly nothing at all but shame, infamy, and damnation. This will prove of no small importance to chastity, that he abstain both from the spectacles and from the discourse. • But besides all this, let him be taught another thing, and that is, that he pray to God with all diligence and compunction. And say not to me, that these things are not imployments for a child ; a child is not capable of this : yes, a child, especially if of a quick understanditig, and encouraged, is very capable of it. Amongst the ancient we find many such examples; as Daniel, and Joseph; and tell not me that Joseph was seventeen years old, but consider before that age for what he was so dear to his father ; and that he was more fond of him than of all his elder brethren ? Was not Jacob himself the younger ? Jere- mias, Daniel but twelve years old * ; was not Solomon also of the same age when he made that wonderful prayer f ? Did not Samuel, being but a very boy, teach his master J ? Let us not then be discouraged. If any one indeed be a child in understanding, he is not capable of this, not if he be a child in years. Instruct him therefore to pray with much compunction, and to watch likewise, as much as will stand to health, and by all means let there be imprinted on him, being a child, the character of an holy man. For he that is not addicted to swearing, nor being provoked to return inju- ries, to reproach no body, to hate none ; but gives his mind to fasting, and is assiduous in his prayer, shall from these be sufiiciently furnished to chastity. And in case thou destine him to a secular life, provide a wife betimes, nor defer it till he be inrolled amongst the souldiers, or that he hath attained to some office in the commonwealth, before thou consider of it ; but settle his thoughts first, and then proceed to secure his glory, which is but a worldly business. Dost thou imagine it of so small a concernment to marriage, that a virgin be joyn'd to a virgin ? Truly, it doth not a little concern also the very wifes chastity, not to speak of the young mans also. Shall not this render their aflFection the * Dan. xiii. 45. f 3 Reg. iii. 4. $ I Reg. iii. 1. 135 more pure? and, which Is above all this, will not God himself be then more propitious, and fill that marriage with a thousand benedictions, when they thus meet together as he has commanded, and will make them cordially to love one another ? Whilest he is detained by this affection, he will laugh at all other women; if when you commend the virgin for her beauty and vertue, and all other endowments, you shall then adde, that she will never endure him if once she but understand him to be an idle person ; here- upon, as touch'd in his highest concernments, he will put forth his utmost diligence. For if that holy man, being deceived of his wife, so loved her as yet to serve seven years more for her, nay fourteen years, how much more should we ? Tell him, that all that bplong to the virgin, the father, the mother, servants, all the neighbours and friends, are strict observers of his behaviour and actions, and all will relate it to his virgin. With this obligation bind him ; 'twill prove an eiFectual preservative to the child. So that in case it should not be so conve- nient to give him a wife very young, let him yet be espoused to one at least from the first ; this will make him strive to excel in goodness, this alone is sufficient to banish all vice.' There is likewise another excellent guard to chastity, that he perpe- tually frequent the Bishop of the Church, and from him receive many encouragements ; and of this let his father glory to all that hear it ; let the virgins seeing him, look on him with a reverend esteem : besides, the discourses and the awe of his father, the promises which are made, and with these the rewards reposited for him of God, with all those be- nefits which the chast shall be made partakers of, will extreamly hinder and repress all lubricity, in this kind. To this you may add, the gallant atchievements in war and in peace, and to these things studiously direct your discourse, continually de- claiming against vice and luxury, and bringing it into contempt. It will much conduce to the repute of chastity, and all these particulars wonderfully restrain the mind of the young man, and produce in us most chast cogitations. There is one more yet remaining, let us therefore now proceed to that which Is the chief of all, and which keeps all entire ; and what is that ? 136 namely, iprudeuce. Here must be Infinite care used, that he fee discreet, and that he abandon and banish all folly; and this is a special and grand point of philosophy; that he comprehend those things which- are divine, and what there is laid up for the future : of hell, and the things which Concerne the skingdome of heaven, since the beginning of wisdome is the fear of the Lord*. Let us therefore establish this point of prudence in him, that he be also intelligent in humane affairs : what riches are, what glory, what powefi to the end he may learn how to contemn them, and set his affec- tions^ upon things which are of highest concernment. Let us often remember him of the good instructions which have been given him, and say, son, fear God alone, and besides him fear none other. And thus he will emerge a prudent and a gracious person. There is nothing in the world that renders a man more a fool, then these vices ;. the fear of God is alone suflScient to make thee wise, and to have such a judge- ment in gedular and humane affairs as is necessary. This, this is the very sum and top of all wisdome, that he be not taken up with imper- tinent and childish vanities. Teach him therefore that riches avail' nothing, worldly glory nothing, power nothing ; nothing, death ; nothing this present life. Thus he shall indeed become a wise man. And if, ' educated in this manner, we conduct him to his nuptials, con- sider how noble a portion thou bringest to his bride. But Ifet us now celebrate the marriage, not with pipes and harps, and dancing ; with these kind of things to disgrace the bridegroom thus educated, 'it is highly incongruous. Let us rather invite Christ -thither, such a bridegroom is worthy of him ; let us bid his Disciples : these things well become him. And now let him henceforth: thus learn to instruct his own children, and so educate them ; and they theirs ; and thus it will become a golden chain indeed. ■ Let us also promote him to offices in the commonwealth, such as he hath abilities to Undergo, and such as do not minister to vice. Or whether it be any charge in the army, let him learn to gain nothing sordidly. Or whether he patronize the cause of those which are wronged, or * Eccles, i. 16. 137 whatever else he undertakes. That his mother learn likewise instruct and discipline her daughters after the same manner, and to avc their thoughts from superfluous attires and fashions, from the worl and from whatsoever else are the proper marks of lewd women ai strumpets. Let him manage all things by this rule, and wean as well the you as the maid from pleasure and ebriety ; for even this also will be great effect towards chastity ; there being nothing which doth mc molest and trouble young men, then concupiscence; nothing more youi women, then haughtiness and lux of apparel. » Thus therefore let us order and compose all these things, that so \ may please Almighty God, whilst we bring him up such champior and that we and our children may attain those promises whieh he ha made to them that love him : and all this through the grace and beni nity of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom with the Father and the He Spirit be glory and honour now and ever, and to eternal ages. A me 138 NOTES UPON SOME PASSAGES. JvAI KOfirjv be oiricrdev a(j)teis eis Kopr/s fxrjfia, &C. And thou dost nourish him a lock of hair behind like a girle, Sfc. Gear in Rituali sive Euchologia Grcecorum, recites an office in rpixoKovpia, or the detonsion of a child : but it was neither monachal nor clerical, but the common cut; and it seems the custom was introduced to avert the Gentile superstition. Athanasius quast. 28 dictor. 8f interpretat. Parabolarum Evangel. EiwOairtv ol "EXXrives koI awoKeipeiv ruiy iraiSav ras Kopv^as, ical Tois /xaWovs eq.v Kal tovtovs jxeTO. xpovov avaridevai rols haifxoai. The Heathen (Greeks) were wont to shave the crowns of their children, and to have their locks to hang down, which after a space of time they did consecrate to (divels) idols. This heathenish superstition, which the Latine and Greek humane authors attest, St. Chrysostom here intends, and the later Greeks did transfer into Christianism, either by consecrating them, as first-fruits unto the true God, or a^ signifying their surrendering themselves to the service of God : or rather, uncovering their head, as the Apostle enjoynes that sex : and there was to that end not only Evx)? els to Kovpevirai iraiha ; but also for the other sex, Eux?) ctti to avahi^aaudai Re^aXriv yvvaiKa. This primary tonsure was with the godfather. And of old they consecrated their first-shorn locks to Apollo (going often in person to Delphos), to ^sculapius, or their country rivers, as Lucian testifies. Plut. in vit. Thes. And Martial, lib. 1, ep. 32. Has tihi Phoebe vovet tStos a vertice crines Encelpus, domini centurionis amor. Grata pudens meriti tulerit cUm pramia pili. Quam primum longas Phctbe recide comas, Dum nulld teneri sordent lanugiiie vultus, Dumq; decent fusae lactea coUajubce, Utq; tuis longum dominusq; pudrq; fruatur Muneribus, tonsumfac citb, sero virum. But their beastly Catamits, with their monstrous heads of hair, were in great esteem amongst the luxurious Romans j whence that of the poet, ■ ■ Si nemo tribunal Vendit Acersecomes Juvenal, lib. 3. Sat. 8. Which when they grew old they used to colour, as appears by that witty Epigram, In Lentinum. Mentiris juvenem tinctis, Lentine, capillis : Turn subitb corvus, qui modb cygnus eras ? Non omnesfallis, scit te Proserpina canum, Perso7iam capiti detrahet ilia tuo. Mart. ]. 3. ep. 32. Which I add in reproof of some old men in our days, who to the reproach of gravity, and that reverend blessing, being now descending to the sepulchre, do yet mentiri juvenem, and would be thought boyes. But of these customes let the reader consult Papinius, Festus Pompeius, Junius, and the most learned Salmasius. I pass them over. 139 Kopjj ev T^ daXa/i^ rif firirpiKf irahevOeiaa Trpos xiafiov errrorjirdai yvvaiKeiov, &c, A maid when in her mother's chamber she hath learned to long after these various tires and ornaments of women, being gone out of her fathers house, becomes impertinent to her husband, and very iroublesom, Sse. This reproof is parallel to that of the Satyrist, but with less acerbity, more modesty and gravity. — — Expectas ut non sit adultera Larga Filia ; qua nunquam maternos dicere mcechos Tam Clio, nee tanto poterit contexere cursut Ut non ter decies respiret ? Conscia matri Virgo fait ; ceras nunc hac dictante pusiMas Implet,^ ad Mcechum dat eisdemferre cincedis, ■ Sic naturti jubet ; velociils St cHius nos Corrumpunt vitiorum exempla 'domestica magnis Cilm subeant animos auetoribus ' Juv. Sat. 14. So true is that of the Orator, Pius homines exemplo quam peccato nocent. And especially parents "whose lewd examples children are many times too prone to imitate. Aeyovrai ol papyaplrai orav €vOi(i}s \ri y rov Xoyiaii-ov Beupels iifiipifiaXXovTa. Thus men should consecrate all their'undertakings. 'Ovhev yap bxjieXei ridevai vonovs, kav iiri Kai {j eKbUrfais eiroiro. For 'tis to no purpose tp enact laws unlesse punishment be also inflicted, Stc. Conformable to that of the Lyrick. Nullis polluitur casta domus stupris : Mos, S; lex maeulosum edomuit nefas ; Laudantur simili prole Puerperee. Culpam poena premit comes% Hor. lib, 4. Od. 5. Such was the Lex Julia de Adulteriis severely inflicted upon the offenders} for Si non supplicio culpa reciditur ? ^ Quid leges sine moribus Vanm prqficiunt? Hor. 1. 3, od. 24. MiyaSes, such are called Mestiso's. The Israelites were to be a pure and separate people. Exod. 12. 38. Kai eiriiiiKTos iroXiis avvavejiti aiiroXs, &c. And a mixed multitude went up, Sfc. Numb. 11. I. Kai o eirl/jiLKTOs 6 ev avro'ts eiredifiriirev kiriQvfilav, &c. And a mixt multitude that 140 was among iliem lusted a lust. Such a one was the blasphemer, Levit. '24. 10, He was Hybrida, of an Egyptian father and Israelitish mother. Nehem. 13 .3. kuI exbipitrdrjerav iras eirifiiKTOs ev 'lo-pai/X. It was upon hearing the law that they were separated from Israel all the mixed mul- titude. 01 rpo(^e(i. Altores, Nuiritii. Nursing fathers. It seems to be an employment about young Nobility ; S. Chrysostom, the Chief Bishop of Constantinople, seems to direct the education of the children of Noblemen and Gentry of great quality j he mentions a garb of attendants — their Tf>off>eis. This office he sets down as the first Impression kK Kprjtrlbos, & t^ apxvs- I suppose a nurse and foster-father taken into the house. TlaihayMyos, a Governor ; 'AkoKovQos, a. Page ; besides other olKerai, domestick attendants. So that of Jacob, ovheva e\(i>v fieff eavrov, ov BovXov, oh Tpocfiia, ov iraiiayuiyov, ovK aWov ov&eva, &c. Having no body with him, not so much as a servant, no fosterer, no attendant, nor any person beside, S(C. Kai ■KpoXajifiovovTa, Ka\ einyivbXTKovTa, Out-running in his understanding the words of the Mini- ster, Sfc. Not occupantem, Legetem, as Combefis. The author speaks of a child (if I understand aright) that hath been instructed by narrations from his father and mother, not yet arrived to those years that he hath learned to read ; for it is a question, whether the Greeks were so very forward in putting their children to read and write as we now are. Besides, k-riyivwaKii) does not signifie to read, though avayivixTKi,) do : but agnosco, to own or declare that I knew such a person for- merly. Recordor, to call to mind : here it is either by gesture in the church, importing that he knew the history before, or afterwards to recount to -his parents when he comes from church. Tpals, called also Tapaypa(j)ls, ypat^eiov, ■KivaKis, called irv^iov. The fiXuo-is yakKrj, I suppose, bound up the Tabella, and fastened the Style too ; for which use was sometimes (as appears before) ifias, Corrigia, or Lorum. Tows ie yapovs TzoiGipev pfj peru avXuiv, p^ pera Kidapas, prjbe peril opxvp^ruy. But let us cele- brate the marriage, not withpipes, and harps, and dancing, Sic. Pertinent to which passage is that in- comparable Homily of this Father, torn. 5, lib. 25, p. 331. Edit. Savil. too long to recite, but most worthy of the reading ; and such a wedding was that of Cana in Galilee, at which our B. Savior was present, John. ii. To conclude, there is 'EKXoyi) Trepl iraihuv avarpoiprjs. Chrys. Savil; torn. 7, p. S23 ; but it does not contain any part of this work ; yet points it to other places of this Father, where upon the same subject are used phrases harmonious to some of these. A CHARACTER OF ENGLAND, IT WAS LATELY PRESENTED IN A LETTER TO A NOBLEMAN OF FRANCE. WITH REFLECTIONS UPON " GALLUS CASTRATUS." THE THIRD EDITION. (originally printed in 1651.) LONDON PRINTED FOR JOHN CROOKE, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT THE SHIP IN ST. PAULS CHUKCH-YARD. 1659. LETTER IN VINDICATION OF THIS " CHARACTER," AGAINST THE SORDID REPROACHES OF " GALLUS CASTRATUS.' Madame, I HERE transmit you the "Character of France*," in which it mui be confess'd, as he renders tp his antagonist in civility, so is he supt rior to him in fancy arid baudry > and it cannot, but extreamly pleas the Monsieur, to see the zeal and, anger of this Mir-millo discharge itse upon his person to so little purpose, who h^ been so civill to ou Country, and to all who can pretend to worth aHi^ vertue in it; that i my judgment, had he spared the gentleman^ his, observations had a much obliged that Nation in some particulars as the " Character f" ha our own, in so charitably shewing us our avowed deformities, and the ex pedients to redresse them. But I beseech you, Madame, could you ima gine, that if there had been the least period in the Monsieur whic reflected on your fair sex, it had been left to this pitifull champion t defend your honours ? I protest, I have confronted them with the bes skill I have, and not without some animositie ; and seriously, when * A small Tract, intituled " A Character of France ;" to which is added Gallus Castratus, or a Answer to a late slanderous Pamphlet called " The Character of England." London, 1659. t The great rarity of the Answer to this equally scarce Tract, has been the principal motive fc its insertion in the present Collection of Evelyn's smaller pieces. Although the above appears i the list of his Works attached to his Memoirs in Dr. Kippis's edition of the Biographia Britannicj whence it has been copied by all the subsequent writers of his Life, it is not mentioned in h: Memoirs recently published, nor in the list of his productions which he sent to his friend Dr. Plo in a letter dated 16th March, 1682-3 j and on that account some have considered it as apochr) phal. The extracts from the Diary introduced as notes to the preceding Tract, will however form chain of illustrative evidence to prove that it is the genuine production of Evelyn's pen. " Gallus C astkatus, an Answer to a Slanderous Pamphlet, called the Character of Englani 144 consider what the "Character" has spoken of our Country in generall, and with what decent reserves he has treated your sex in particular, that but pretend to vertue, I am sure your LaP cannot be offended at his reproofes, because so little concerned with them ; and that none but the guilty will condemne so civill a declamation, which has nothing of asperity in it but that which is proper for the cure of what both you and I, and thousands more, have frequently deplored. Juvenal and Persius did the same to their own country which this stranger has done to us, and have been celebrated these 1500 yeares for their service ; and shall we be the only ungrateful I ? The hope is, the reply is penn'd in so coarse a style, that there will not be found words in all the French tongue to let them know we have so foule a mouth amongst us, or your honours so weak an advocate. But it seemes the offence is not universall, for I am cre- dibly informed by a person of quality, and much integrity, that heard a learned and sober preacher quote the " Character" in his sermon, and reproach the people for their irreverent behaviour in the church in the very language of that book, which being asserted to me by a lady who was her self an auditor, is enough to discharge it of the blasphemy which this impure insect imputes to it, and to give it the reputation of a pre- cious balme, a sober and just reproof. But I say no more, least whilst 1 am advocate for the stranger, I be- come the subject of this scorpion ; which I had yet rather be, than in the catalogue of his worthies, if such monsters as the last he mentions bring up the arriere, whose fanatick impieties he would palliate by his Pbari- Si talia nefanda et facinora quk non Democritus. London : Printed for Nath. Brooke at the Angel in Cornhill, 1659. " To the illustrious Starres of Glory, the incomparable Beauties of the English Nation. These with a deep humility. " Gallus Caslratus, &c.— Ladies, To make a hue and cry, or research after this Satyrist, were to enquire after yesterdayes air, or the last evenings sun : since the perpetrating a sin against cha- rity and divine beauty, hath occasioned him to conceal his unworthy name ; yet by your permission (fair Ladies) I shall adventure a throw after him, so as to bestow on him a character not unworthy of his fact. " He may be thought one of the dislodged brood of wandering Cain, who having sinned in good, sets his hand against all for bad ; such of these are true, sons of the Curse, they bring brambles for violets, and thorns for roses : desperate persons to converse with, as infectious in their souls, as in their 145 salcall censure of the Monsieur; for having reproved nothing but what this wasp must needes blush to have vindicated, if he were a true son n of the Church of England, and not a scabbed sheep of some other flock. In summe, I defer no more to his wit then to his wisdome ; for it seemes he has replied with, as little moderation as the Monsieur with method: at least, I wish he had distinguished better, and given him lesse subject to suspect him of the oiFspring of Billings-gate ; so ungen- tlemanhke he railes, that in the next edition of Mr. Wren *, his epithetes may happen to be added to the elegancies of Mr, Harrington 'f', of whose schoole and complexion he appears to be. For the rest, I read him with patience ; but as the justice of my nature transports me, could wish to have seen the product of the " Character " result in a due deploring of what is really amisse amongst. us, and not in empty recriminations, which serves to no other end than to harden us in our follies, and Steele us with the metall of his own forehead. But thus the urinall is cast into the physitians face, and he becomes our enemy who tells us the truth; verifying rather the signature of one of Solomons fooles than at all treating the Monsieur as an ingenuous person should do, and had become him that intended not rather to justify the errours we are guilty of, than to acknowledg and reform them. Madame, I shall add no more than to tell you, that if any worthy persons think themselves agreiv'd, and have the leisure to revenge us upon the French, there are witts of our Nation, and devotos of yours, of another allay than this trifler, and who can tell how to make a better election of what is their limbs ; a traveller, that makes it his business to deface the glories of nature, not to admire and adore them j a frothy wit, not consenting to. its captivity, hath in, his caprichios snorted his foam upon the sweet face of this blessed Island ; the method he pretends too, for he hath none, was sure begot in a hirricano, where, being frighted by his conscience, he thrusts things together d. la negligence; a brat only born to die accursed, and to shew to the world that France hath, of late her monsters, as well as Africa. " His end I cannot remark, except like Erostratus to purchase a fame, though by the vilest infamy, or to engage a smile from those (bandittors to nature) the rude offspring of a brothel or ■ a dunghill : * Matthew Wren, eldest son of the Bishop of Ely, and author of " Considerations on Mr. Har- rington's Commonwealth of Oceana." 8vo. 1.659.. _ .. t James Harrington, an eminent political writer, and author of " Oceana." 1656. Folio. U 146 reprehensible in them, with more becoming tearmes, and equall charity : but that he may not altogether despair, now the bolt is shot, the onely way to render him usefull (if so you think he may be), is to separate his quibbles from his scurrility ; and by a second perusall of the Mon- sieurs letter, to determine impartially, as (on your Ladyships injunc- tions) I have endeavoured to do. But if I would give counsell to this whiffling capon-maker* (which is the name he afFeots in revenge for the others concealment), it is, that instead of triumphing with the rams-hornes, and defending the blasphemies, sacrilege, and ill manners of this corrupt age, he would withdraw his own, and write a second Apology for the froth which he hath so iudiscretely spewed out; least being judged a creature of the liquor he so much celebrates, he be thought unworthy a rejoynder, and after the English Character is made use of, his own supply the sweet office, ad spurco's usus. 24*V June 1659. a dunghill : a monster fitting to. rove after its sire, rather than find a Meceenas in anyserraus family ; so unfit to bear 'the name of a character, that it may well be stiled the Leprosie of France cast upon England. But by this time (Ladies) 1 suppose you have enough of this unmaskt Gen- tleman J now to the work itself. <' And first he apologjzeth for his rudenessi by the commands of a person (once a devoto to the charmes of England) a person of quality (a Lord) ; but if his qualities answered his dignity, surely his Lordship hath repented him of his commands. " He declares he had licence only for minute things: his Honour thought great ones too much beyond the sphere of his activity and cognisance : but to particularize his aspersions, which I shall civilly name his complaints, " Comp. 1. His first is, (of the stiffe whispering and forbidden countenances) at Dover. "Surely his Jast collation of the grape at Calais, or the high trott of Neptune, had contributed much to this mistake ; since as Cumines his own country-man saith, I used to go to Calais (when in the hands of the English) without a passe, for (saith he) they are very courteous and honourable in their entertainments to strangers. And further, in their tryals with forrainers they allow them a Jury, de Medietate Lingua. Surely then they had not lost their native gallantry at this Mon- sieurs landing ; but for a certain the Monsieur brought a face from Madagascar, or a habit from America, not fit to be seen without a motion or amazement, as the Spaniards are usually respected in their country. But I see this ])oor gentleman is mighty tender, for he seems to take pet at every tree that grows not straight, and excepts at any person that comes but neer him, much more that doth but touch him : the very boyes give him an adventure much of Don Quixots, which makes him view all things through inchantment ; and I wonder I hear no news of his eccho^ a Sancho Pancho to flatter his folly into a romance. ■ " Comp, * Ga lilts Caatratus. 147 TO THE READER. When I first chanced upon this Severe piece, and had read it in the language it was sent me, I was so much concern'd with the honour of our Country, that it wias my resolution to "suppress the publication of our shame, as conceiving it an act of great inhumanity ; but upon se- cond and more impartial thoughts, I have been tempted to make it speak English, and give it liberj:y, not to reproach, but to instruct our Nation, remembering what the wise-man hath said*, '" Open rebuke is better than secret love." The truth is, I cannot say but the particulars are most of them very home, and which we may no way evade, ^vithout acknowledging^ at least, that the gentleman (who ever he were) made notable use of his time, but l)est of all by setting upon effectual redresse of what is amiss. And though 1 doubt not but one might easily retort in as matiy instances upon defects as great (if not greater) of that Nation, (for he that finds fault had need be perfect,) yet were it then fittest to do it, and to revenge this charitable office, when we shall have first reformed ourselves. Farewell. " Comp. 2. To see his confident host Sit down cheek by joule by bim, belching and puffing to- bacco, and that our gentlemen do usually entertain them, and are pleased with their impertinencies. "^This Monsieur was (I dare say) not banished France for his great head-piece; else he might have considered himself now in a free state, where no person is shackled by prerogative, but may be company (by way of dlvertisement) to the greatest pieqe of honour in Europe ; and if you can fit your lacquey upon what last your humor shall frame,,why may not sometimes an iimpertinency please your fancy, as well as the character of England doth some of your ladies > For you must know, our people are nut an asse-Iike galled nation, who are bound by their chains to come no neerer then an interview of Princes : but I confess my host was somewhat too bold to approach so nigh, lest he might have had imployment for his fingers and nails all the year after. " But I hope Monsieur you have paid your reckoning, and are now coming to London, as you say (the metropolis of all civility.) > " Comp. 3. You write. That you had some honour thrown upon you, as dirt, squibs, roots, nay rams' horns, entering London. "Seriously, Sir, 1 wonder at the last lot, how they, came to hit upon this honour for you; I must tell you, that it was a sad and lowering constellation or ludibrium of fortune cast upoi) your person, that in that great place of civility such ominous caresses should be ofiered, since your deserts had been better paid you in your own country, and with your own coyn. As for the car- men, as you say, overthrew the hell-carts, I wonder. Sir, how your company escaped, since there was * Proverbs, chap, xxvii. ver. 5. CHARACTER OF ENGLAND, &c. My Lord, You command me to give you minute account of what I observed, and howlpassed that little time which I lately spent in England ^; a Country, whose character you so greatly desire to be inform'd of, in a conjuncture (as you rightly deduce) of so strange vicissitude and won- derful alterations ; and to whom, my Lord, should I more readily sub- mit ? first encouraged to make this excursion by your Lp, as who had formerly beheld and so much admir'd the splendor and magnificence of this Court and Kingdom iu its greatest acme and lustre. But, my Lord, I cannot imagine that you should esteem me either of years or capacity to inform you, whose judgement is so mature, and correspon- dence so universal!, as that there is. nothing which can escape your cognizance, not onely in that Island, but in all the world besides. But since you oblige me not to dip into the transactions of States, the effects of Providence, time, notices of a superiour orbe, and in which you can- not be instructed by so weak an instrument as your servant ; and demand onely the little remarkes of my hasty and desultory peregrination, was a story, that the Devil rid through our streets with some blades having none of the best feces, " Cnmp. 4. That our city is a wooden, northern, and inartificial congestion pf houses. " This Monsieur, I perceive, is no curious architect, for finding fault with our wooden build- ings, which consider London, as a mercantile city, strong and beautiful, her manner of building agreeable to the jettyes, bay-windowsi and returns'in her streets ; every part so ingaged one with another, that though under several modes, yet like loving citizens they hold hand in hand faster' then brick or stone can do, and by their diversity of frontings do declare a, freedome of our sub- jects, that what they acquire by industry, may be bestowed at pleasure ; not obliged to build so' for the will of the Princes s whereas the citizens of Paris are so forced to uniformity, that their '-- — '— sti'uctures ' * Referring to the Diary, June 27, 1650, it will be seen that Evelyn quitted Calais, " intending' but 'a short stay in England," and returned to France on the 13th of the following month. 149 ugli I cannot pretend to improve yoiar Lordships knowledg, yet 1 y hope to give it diversion, and an essay of my obedience. t must be avowed that England is a sweet and fertill Country,— Terra potens armis, atque ubere glebae ; t the fields, the hills, and the vallies are perpetually clad with a glo- is and agi-eeable verdure; that her provisions are plentiful!, her )les important, and her interest very considerable, not omitting the 3t beautiful! ladies, I had almost said, of the world, but for a just ject due to the illustrious circles of our Court, where the beauties of versation so far transcend the tinctures of lillies and roses. But these. Lord, are not the memoires which you demand ; I will therefore ten to my post. Sifter a short passage from Calais, we came on shore at Dover, where people of the town entertain'd us with such suspicious a,nd forbidding ntenances, whispering, and stiiF postures, that I should never have eved so great a difference in the addresses of two nations could have n produced in so short a trajection, and in a port continually accus- I'd to the faces of strangers, had not the contrary liumors of our con-: xous neighbours, the Spaniards, made it possible in so many pleasant ances. But I was amazed, when we had taken post, and scarce out the village, at the acclamations of the boys, running after and ightiiig our horses, hooting, and crying out, ' French dogs, French '&, a Mounser, Mounser 1' by a particular expression of welcome, tures seem to be only one continued' magnificent wall loop-hol'd ; whereas variety is more ant, if it be not so fantastick as to incommodate passage, height, or sight, as it is an undoubted m in the opticks, that it lengthens your entertainment to a rapture • whereas in the French the eye in an instant is glutted with an identity, so that having seen one city or street, the j not urged to take her revels in another, all being so like to a primitiveliattern qf one f, it choaks delight ; as ior magnificent buildings, or regalios. Monsieur forgets the Abbey ot minster, the Royal Exchange, two such works of architecture, that for their kind and use meet vith any parallel in. France j though, I confess, the absolute tyranny of your Kings by the I and sweat of the insla\ed peasantry, have erected palacesas it seemeth to me works of im- nency and leisure ; but if you view further their precordia, you will find the work like sattin ct upon canvas, being so furnished, that you would think them the edifices of some former »tants frighted fi-bm them, and possessed by Noihades ov Scythians, that never knew the use 150 Avhlch other people would Interpret derision; but in this triumph (tho somewhat late e're we set out for Dover) we attain'd as far as Roche the first night, inhere, how new a thing it appeared to me^ to see confident host set him down cheek by joul by me, belching and puf tobacco in my face, you may easily imagine, till I afterwards found i be the usuall stile of this Country, and that the gentlemen who Ic at their inns entertain themselves in their company, and are m pleas'd at their impertinencles. Arrlv'd at the metropolis of civi London, we put our selves in coach with some persons of quality, came to conduct us to our lodging : but neither was this passage w out honour done to us ; the kennel dirt, squibs, roots, and rams -hoi being favours which were frequently cast at us by the children and prentises without reproofe ; civilities that in Paris a gentleman as sell meets withall, as with the contests of carmen, who in this towndoraii in the streets, o're-throw the hell-carts (for so they name theeoach cursing and reviling at the nobles: you would imagine yourself amoi a legion of devils, and in the suburbs of hell. I have greatly won( at the remisness of the magistrate, and the temper of the g6ntlen and that the citizens, who subsist onely upon them, should permi great a disorder, rather joyning in the affronts then at all chastizing inhumanity. But these are the natural effects of parity, popular 11 tlnism, and Insulary manners. I ^nd, as you told me, my Lord, London to be a town so nobly s ated, and upon such a river as Europe certainly shews not a more us( of such civil utensils: besidi;s, onr Kings hsive had larger theaters of Majesty then these whereas the French King is sedentary in Paris, our Kings have been like the sun, not uonfinei place, but enriching all places with their justice and glory: and so our palaces are be; scattered and equally distributed to all places of the nation: no King (for the extent of e having more i«sidencies of Majesty than our English Potentates have had ; so that if this cii London) be considered as a mercantile city, and place of trading, and the King's Court but issue of his favour to these merchants : you will fJnd he hath grandeurs both noble and suffii What a charm of Majesty is there of the houses of the nobility, fronting that christal and i nymph (the Thames ?) Besides, the city illustrated with the like in many places ; together the stately structures belonging to citizens, that, I am confident, cannot be paralleled by the \ trade of France or Europe. '' But I am bound to follow you, Monsieur, up and down from the tavern to the ch 151 and agreeable; but with all this a city consisting of a wooden, northera, and inartificial congestion of houses ; some of the principal streets so narrow, as there is nothing more deformed and unlike than the pros- pect of it at a distance, and its asymmetrie within the walls. Their fountains, which are the pride and grace of our streets, and plentifully supplyed in this city, are here immur'd, to secure the waters from, I know not what, impurities ; but, certainly, it do's greatly detract from the beauty of the Carfours, and intercepts the view. Amongst the pieces of modern architecture, I have never observ'd above two which were remarkable in .this vast city ; the portico of the Church of St. Pauls, and the Banqueting-house at Whitehall, of which I remember to have heard your Lordship speak : but you would be amaz'd at the genius of this age, that should suffer this goodly and ve- nerable fabrick to be built about, and converted into raskally Ware- houses, and so sordidly obscur'd and defac'd, that an argument of greater avarice, malice, meanness, and deformity of mind, cannot possibly be expressed : nothing here of ornament, nothing of magnificence, no pub- llque and honourable works, such as render.our Paris, and other cities of France, renowned and visited by all the world ; emulating even Italy her self for her palaces, uniform and conspicuous structures : but O ! how loathsome a Golgotha is this Pauls ! I assure your Lordship, that Bngland is the sole spot in all the world where, amongst Christians, their churches are made jakes and stables, markets and tlppllng-houses, and where there were more need of scorpions than thongs to drive out then to the shambles, and indeede it seenjs you visited things (like. our rusticks) with a streight- ened heart and a wide mouth, for now you hark most monstrously against our religion and professors of it : but seriously, had you minded any thing of charity, you would not have given a character of us in our distempers, taking the present advantage of our being sick of schisme and division : buti find you one of those Lucian scoffers, that rather then not exercise your froth, the gods shall not escape your animosity. I cannot like that spirit in a Frenchman, which would be scorned in a Heathen, or like a Jew spit upon the Saviour of the world, because not their insom- niated Messias : but Monsieur, procul hine, procul ite, prophani. Yet I seriously assure you (dear Ladies) as touching their several worships, of these equivocal Christians, as he cals them, it is a newly forged blasphemy against the truth, and I question not but his god-father will one day con- gratulate his intelligence with a meritorious rewai:d. " Well now into the tavern I must follow my Frenchman, who is my ignis fatuus, leads me in no 152 the publicans and money-changers ; in sum, where these excellent uses are pretended to be the markes of piety and reformation. I had sometimes the curiosity to visit the several worships of these equivocal Christians and enthusiasts*. But I extremely wondred to find those whom they call Presbyterians, and that would imitate us of the religion in France and Geneva, to have their discipline so confused and diflferent. In this remarke, my Lord, to be somewhat more parti- cular, vou will not be displeased ; because it was a thing you so much recommended to my especiall notice. Form, they observe none. They pray and read without method, and indeed, without reverence or devo- tion. I have beheld a whole congregation sit with their hats on, at the reading of the Psalms, and yet bare-headed when they sing them. In divers places they read not the Scriptures at all ; but up into the pulpit, where they make an insipid, tedious, and immethodical prayer, in phrases and a tone so affected and mysterious, that they gi^e it the name of canting, a term by which they do usually express the gibberish of beggars and vagabonds ; after whichj there follows the sermon (which, for the most part, they read out of a book) consisting (like their prayers) of speculative and abstracted notions and things, which, nor the people nor themselves well understand : but these they extend to an extraordinary length and Pharisaical repetitions ; and well they may, for their chaires are lined with prodigious velvet cushions, upon which they loll and talk, 'till almost they sleep ; I am sure, till their auditors do. > no method or order ; but what sees he now ? Now a legion of adversities, as shops, smoak coaches, sea-coal ; would not any wise man think this man mad, or tumbled lately out of some chaos ? But his chief regret is for the sea-coal, which he faith : " Comp. 5. That if there be any hell it is in this vulcano on a foggy day. " You may not well question a hell, Monsieut", since in this piece of impiety and unhandsome'- ness, if you had your reward, you might easily perceive you are in the suburbs already. Melhinks this was as strange an adventure, as the knight errants wind-mills, and I suppose as much crazed your body; so that I wonder at your high valour, that dared adventure that eyelet-holed invaded body of yours, to such corroding fumes ; but peradventure you are well sheathed with brimstone- "" and * " It was now a rare thing to find a priest of the Church of England in a parish pulpit, most of which were filled with Independents and Phanatics." Diary, vol. I, p. 257, 1st edit. 153 The Minister uses no habit of distinction, or gravity, but steps up in querpo ; and when he laies by his cloak (as I have observed some of them) he has the action rather of a thrasher than a divine. This they call taking pains, and indeed it is so to those that hear them : but thus they have now encouraged every pert mechanlck to invade, aflfron't, and out-preach them; and having uncancell'd all manner of decency, pros- tituted both their person's and function to usurpation, penury, and derision. You may well imagine, by the manners of the people, and their prodigious opinions, that there is no Catechism nor Sacraments duely administred*: the religion of England is preaching and sitting stll on Sund'aies. How they baptise I know not, because the congregation is dismissed, and they agree in no form ; and for the other Sacraments, no man gives or receives alike ; and it is so selddme done in remem- brance of Christ, that in some parishes, 1 have heard, they can hardly remember when they received it. Generally, I have no where seen goodlier out-sides of churches ; what they are within I cannot so well say ; for their temples are as fast as was that of Janus after the first Punlck-war, unless it be upon Sundaies, when they blow the brazen trumpets of sedition, not the silver ones of the tabernacle. I have dis- cotirsed with some concerning this sealing their churches in the week- dayes : they are ready to retort upon us in France, not considering that our churches are solitary, and In some places many leagues distant from the towns ; that we are under a persecution, and so necessitated to omit the publlque Morning and Evening Sacrifice, which I remember and butter against this infection, and you might have known, or I wonder your Lord informed you not, that the sulphure of our combustibles is a very great enemy to any sacrifice made in favour of Venus, her oblations being burnt upon altars in our suburbs. " Comp. 6. But now if you will hear a loud one, mark his words well ; I have, saith he, been in a spacious church, where I could not discern the minister for smoak. " Ex ungue Leonem, one may judge of the rest of his narrative by this notorious untruth. Did ever any sober man happen upon such an incounter ? Surely this gentleman's opticks were much eclipsed, or some drunken vapours had overclowded his mind, or else he had framed in his smoaky cranium * " Mr. Owen, a sequester'd and learned Minister, preach 'd ,in my parlour, and gave us the blessed Sacrament, now wholly out of use in the parish churches on which the Presbyterians and Fanatics had usurp'd." Diary, vol. I. p. 234. X 154 to have heard severall of our divines deplore the defect of; as of many other decencies, which, here, they can have no pretence against : but such of their churches as I have frequented were dammed up with pues, every three or four of the inhabitants sitting in narrow pounds or pulpits by themselves ; for they are all turn'd preachers now. In short, there is nothing more unlike to our refornded churches in France, and I think, in all Europe beside ; the apprehension of Popery, or fondness to their own imaginations, having carried them so far to the other extream, that they have now lost all moderation and decorum. And Ihave been herein, my Lord, the more industrious to inform myself of each particular; because it seems yet to be the most publlque religion of the State. Some of their own party I have heard deplore this confusion ; but certainly they themselves gave the first occasion to these monstrous liberties, by a rigid and uncharitable disci- pline, primarily (it seems) introduced by the Scots, and so refifled upon by these, as there are few or none that will submit to the tyranny; but every one takes his own course, and has protection for it. Some well natur'd abused men 1 have met withall amongst them ; but if I mistake not, for the greater ingredient, ambitious, ignorant, overween- ing, sower and uncharitable, ne quid asperius, combining with the interest of the times, and who, to render themselves powerfull, have rn compliances with the spiritual pride of the mechanicks and corporations, conniv'd at those many and prodigious schismes and heresies which are now spawn'd under them in such numbers as give terrour to the State. cranium such an imposture; and I wonder. Sir, you make not a recantation for such a grosse insipid irregularity, since if our very boys read but your book, they would hoot at your naticin indeed for your sweet-Iye-composed wonder. " Comp. 7- There is a number of houses where they sell ale (a muddy beverage) where the gentlemen sit and spend much of their time in drinking it. " As for that wholesome, pleasant, restorative, noble drink, the blessed offspring of Ceres ; what impudence dares find fault, or cast a cloud over that gift of nature ? Since that if it could be conveyed, all the earth would court it ; witness the great esteem is had in all parts of this our English liquor ; so that one of your countrymen doctors sailh, that there is no liquor more ih- creaseth the radical moisture, and preserves the natural heat j these two being the pillars of our decaying bodies. Now for any one to speak against the props of life, deserves to die, as his own enemy, under an unlamented death. But I am sure of this, that this tipple, and the grey goose- wing. 155 I omit to tell your Lordship that few take notice of the Lords Prayer ; it is esteemed a kind of weakness to use it, but the Creed and theDecalogue are not once heard of in their congregations : this is milke for babes, and they are all giants. They do frequently solemnize their late nationall deliverances, and some daies of Christian bloodshed with all possible severity ; but they think it gross idolatry to joyn with the whole Christian church of all professions under Heaven, in the anniver- saries of our B. Saviour's Incarnation, Passion, Resurrection, and the descent of the Holy Ghost, spirituall, eternall, and never to be forgotten mercies *. Would your Lordship believe that this madnesse should advance so far as to disturbe the French church there, which, you know, do's in all places observe those signal deliverances and blessings, both by preaching, prayer, sacraments, and exhortations apposite to the occasion ? What think you will be the issue of this goodly Reforma- tion ? I could tell you of the mysterious classis of the Tryers, their ridiculous, insidiary and presumptuous questions; their unheard of ani- mosities against their brethren of the Church of England, suffering themselves to be rather torn in sunder by the Sectaries, Demetrius and the Crafts-men, whilst they contend about trifles and meer shadows. Concerning the Independents, all I can learn is, they are a refined and apostate sort of Presbyters ; or, rather such as renounce all ordina- tion-, as who having preached promiscuously to the people, and cun- ningly ensnared a select number of rich and ignorant proselytes, sepa- rate themselves into conventicles, which they name congregations. wing, had almost torn all the feathers from the back of France ; and certainly this Monsieur had some other reason then he produceth, to inveigh against this liquor j it may be it holds no friendly correspondency with Venus races, or else is not commodious (by reason of its fumes) for a nation half drunk already. " And now he appeals to his Lord (his confident), and as a preludium (knowing my Lord was DO enemy to the French beauties) to the prosecuting on his road of scandals. And now let all the world consider this unheard of impudence against a sex, the whole hoast of heroes court witli caresses due to their charms/ creatures (rather a creation) framed by the indulgent hand of the Deity, as it were, cordials poured down from heaven in compassion to our infirmities : you, even you (great souls) his folly hath not blusht to asperse, with the like success ; pardon the dirty — expres- * 1652. "Christmas day : no sermon any where, no church being permitted to be open, so observ'd it at home." Diary, vol. I. p. 263. 156 There is nothing does more resemble this sect than om- Romish Missiona- ries sent out in partibus infidelium; for they take all other Christians to be Heathens. These are those pretenders to the Spirit, into whose party do's the vilest person living no sooner adscribe himself, but he is, ipso facto, dub'd^a saint, hallow'd and dear to God. These are the confidents ^vho can design the minute, the place, and the means of their conversion ; a schism full of spiritual disdain, incharity, and high imposture, if any such there be on earth. But every alteration of State destroying the interest of the versatile contrivers, they are as ready to transmigrate into the next more thriving fraternity, as the souls of Pythagoras into beasts, and may then, perhaps, assume some other title. This is a sad, but serious truth, and no little menaces the common Christianity, unless timely prevented. But, S"", I will no longer tire your patience w* these monsters (the subject of every con ^ temptuous pamphlet) then with the madness of the Anabaptists, Quakers, Fift Monarchy-men, and a cento of unheard of heresies besides, which, at present, deform the once renowned Church of Eng- land, and approach so little to the pretended Reformation, which we in France have been made to believe, that there is nothing more hea- venly wide. But 1 have dwelt too long on this remarke ; I return to where I digressed ; for I was viewing the buildings, which are as deformed as the minds and confusion of the people ; for if a whole street be fired (an accident not unfrequent in this, wooden city) the magistrate has either no power, or no care to make them build with any uniformity, expression, as the breath of a dunghill doth the sun, wliich still shall shine as glorious as his infa- tuated mind shall be obscured with infamy. " Comp. 8, That our ladies suffer themselves to be treated in a tavern, and drink crowned cups. " This is an horrid impudence indeed : survey the whole universe, as their beauties excel, so, then these fair creatures in general, their lives ; none whose lives are modester without ignominy, and freer without scandals^ then our English ladies, " This gentleman eomes over with our last desultory French visitation, who had received so much virility hiy the posting of our horses in the dayes of travel, that they (being in London) did that thirteenth labour to Hercules twelve, purging a stable of so much filth, that our suburbs shall sing an lo Pean to them hereafter : and truly those poor pieces of mortality bred an excellent French trade of it, enough to keep them till the like opportunity may so seasonably court them. And these are your Madamoseilles, who (ProteuS like) changed their shape (to ingratiate their hire) into ladies, countesses, this beauty, and that beauty, till they had taken excise of your limbs gave 157 which I'endef it, though a large, yet a very ugly town, pestred with hacknfey-coaches and Insolent carre-men, shops and tavefils, noyse, and such a cloud of sea-coal, as If there be a resemblance of hell Upon earth, it is in this vulcano in a foggy day : this pestilent stnoak, which cor- rodes the very yron, and spoils all the moveables, leaving a soot on all things that it lights : and so fatally seizing on the lUngs of the inha- bitants, that the cough and the consuittption spared no man*. I have been in a spacious church where I could not discern the minister for the smoak ; nor hear him for the people's barking. There is within this city, and in all the tov^ris of England (which I havfe passed through) so pirodigtous a number of houses where they sell a certain drink called ale, that 1 think a good halfe of the inhabitants ihay be denominated ale-house-keepers : these are a meaner sort of cabardts; but what is most deplorable, where the gentlemen sit, and spend much of their time, drinking of a muddy kind of beverage, and tobacco, which has tmiversally besotted the nation, and at which (I hear) they have con- sumed many noble estates. As for other taverns, London is compos'd of them, where thdy drink Spanish wines, and other sophistica,ted liquors, to that fury and intemperance as has often amaz'd me to con- sider It : but thus some mean fellow, the drawer, arrives to an estate, some of them having built fair houses, and purchased those gentlemen Out of their possessions, who have ruined therasdves by that base and dishonourable vice of inebriety : and that nothing may be "wanting to the height of luxury and impiety of this abomination, they have trans- gave as good as yoti btought, left you loose in the hilts. These Mons. are your ladies that drink crowned healths ; these are those beauties that are so free ; to such a nation indeed it WQuId be too great impiety for civil ladies to neglect their noble soulS) their proper persons, to court your defor- mities and diseases. " Comp. 9. It is the afternoon business of English Gentlemen only to drink and be drunk. " Sutely such as was your females company, such was your males ; surely you rak'd hell for these deboist unthrifty cadets, for otherwise I never knew this to be a custom amongst civil gen- tlemen. You say, after they have taken their repast with the ladies they withdraw, into- another room ; certainly. Monsieur, this is a handsome separation, for the gentlemen to carrese one with another, having sometimes masculine interests in hand ; whereas you never separate your confused interests, * For a further illustration of this fact, see his " Fumifugium : or the Inconveniencie of the Aer and Smoak of London dissipated;" reprinted in the present volume. 158 lated the organs out of the churches to set them up in taverns, chanting' their dithrambicks, and bestiall bacchanalias to the tune of those instru- ments, which were wont to assist them in the celebration of God's praises, and regulate the voices of the worst singers in the world, which are the English in their churches at present. I cannot but commend the Reformed in Holland, who still retain their organs in the churches, and make use of them at the Psalms, without any opinion of supersti- tion ; and I once remembered to have heard the famous Diodati * wish it might be introduced even at Geneva. A great errour undoubtedly in those who sit at the helme, to permit this scandal; to suffer so many of these taverns and occasions of intemperance, such leeches and vipers ; to gratifie so sordid and base a sort of people with the spoile of honest and well-natur'd men. Your L. will not believe me, that the ladies of greatest quality suffer themselves to be treated in one of these taverns, where a curtesan in other cities would scarcely vouchsafe, to be enter- tained ; but you will be more astonish't when I shall assure you, that they drink their crowned cups roundly, daunce after the fiddle, kiss freely, ^nd tearm it an honourable treat. But all this my experience, particular address, and habitudes with the greatest of that nation has assur'd me, that it is not the pass-time only of the inferiour and mere- tricious sort; since I find it a chief suppletory at all their "entertain- ments, to drink excessively, and that in their own houses, before the ladies and the l^cquaes. It is the afternoon's diversiori ; whether for want of better to employ the time, or affection to the drink, I knoAv interestSj knowing no distinction between male and female civilized interests, but only by the more retired managements of nature; and certainly you would seem to be so fond of your Mopsa's, as not (out of a complement) to give them time to disembogue. As for our drinking healths or pledges, if you knew but the way to our custom, you will find it sprang from a laudable necessity at first, and was in earnest a duty performed really (by) one friend for another. The Danes know. it. But Monsieur, you do but fanatically trifle in all your discourse : as for our cadets that visit the gallows so frequently (as you say), I suppose yours in France are, or ought to be, so seriously imployed, as their proper merit; since your robberies are meerly massacres; such cowards are ve, that ye first shoot before ye dare bid stand ;1.hey never taking purse before it is crimsond, reaking — - hot * Dr. John Diodati, the celebrated Italian Minister, and translator of the Holy Bible into that language, with whom Evelyn became personally acquainted when at Geneva in 1646. See Memoirs, vol. I. pp. 234. 226. 227. 159 not ; but I have found some persons of quality, whom one could not safely visit after dinner vs^ithout resolving to undergo this dt'ink-ofdel, and endure the question *. It is esteem'd a piece of wit to make a man drunk, for which some swilling insipid client or congiarie is a frequent and constant adjutant. Your L. may hence well imagine how heavy, dull, and insignificant the conversation is ; loud, querulous, and imperti- nent. 1 shall relate a story that once happened in my presence at a gentlemans house in the countrey, where there was much company and feasting. I fortun'd to come at dinner-time, and after the cloth was taken away (as the manner is) they fell to their laudable exercise ; but 1, unacquainted then with their custome, was led up into a withdrawing room, where I had the permission (with a noble person who Introduced me) to sit and converse with the ladles who were thither retired;; the gentleman of the house leaving us, in the mean time, to entertain his friends below. But you may imagine how strangely I was astonish'd, to see within an hour after, one of the company that had dined there entering Into the room all bloody and disorder'd, to fetch a sword which lay In one of the windowes, and three or four of his companions, whom the fumes of the wine had Inspirited, pursuing and dragging him by the hair, till in this confusion one of their spurs engaged into a carpet, upon which stood a very fair looking-glass, and two noble pieces of porselain, drew all to the ground, break the glass- and the vasas in pieces; and all this on such an instant, that the gentleman and my self had much ado to rescue the aflFrighted ladies from suffering in the tumult; but at last we hot in bloud ; of such horrible actions none but base cruel-spirited bravoes could be guilty ; this one unmanly trick might enough satyr against all the grandeurs in France. As concerning our Gentry, I shall conclude, they come short of your follies, as much as you come short of their native gallantry. " Comp, 10. The Ladies of England have designs at playinj;at cards. " Pray, Monsieur, what's the end of play but ingenious designs, products of pure fancy, and ready managery ? and if you would dishonour them for thi3» you may as well carp at their inge- nuity : I suppose your ladies will never prove guilty of sheWlhg so much judgment, since for to be dextrous at play cannot possibly be the lot of French l&dies, for they want two necessary virtues to it, silence and patience ; which at what a distance these stand with them, let all the world judge. "Comp. » In France they give a certain torture to malefactors, by pouHhg such a quantity of water into their mouths, which they call giving the Question, and I (by translation) term drink-ordell. 160 prevail'd, and brought them to tearms ; the quarrel concerning an health onely, which one of them would have shifted. I don't remem- ber, mv Lord, ever to have known (or very rarely) a health drank in France, no not the Kings ; and if we say, A vostre santd, Monsieur, it neither expects pledge or ceremony. 'Tis here so the custome to drink to every one at the table, that by the time a gentleman has done his duty to the whole company he is ready to fall asleep, whereas with us, we salute the whole table with a single glass onely. But, my Lord, was not this, imagine you, an admirable scene and very extraordinary ? I con- fess, the lady of the house, being much out of countenance at what had hapned, profered to excuse this disorder, and I was as ready to receive it, till several encounters confirmed me that they were but too frequent, and that there was a sort of perfect debauches, who stile thiemselves Hectors, that in their mad and unheard of revels pierce their veins to quaff their own blood, which some of them have drank to that excess that they died of the intemperance. These are a professed atheistical order of bravos, compos'd for the most part of cadets, who, spending beyond their pensions to supply their extravagancies, practise now and then the high-way, where they sometimes borrow that which they often repay at the gibbet ; an ignominious trade, unheard of amongst our gal- lant nobless, however fortune reduce them. But I know not whether I might not here match these valiant heroes with an avow'd society of ladies, and some of them not the meanest for birth (1 even blush to recount it of that fair sex), who boast of making all advantages at play, " Comp. 11.' That our Gentlemen and Ladies are defective in courtship and addresses. " I confess if he means our ladies want that impudence, which he cals assurance, when it is as incompatible with modesty as the devils are with glorious angels ; or if you mean a forwardness to court the male, to jet and garb it in company, like the Queens quondam petit-dancer, which you call address, I confess we will not vye with you ; or if you mean by charming discourse, a bold unlimited chattering, taking into cognizance ceremonious dissembled impertinencies, both in affront to heaven and earth ; in these our wise ladies come short I confess j but if you mean an address, where modesty keeps its decorum betwixt impudent gallantry and bashful rusticity, thits, this is the address, of, our incomparable beauties, which outshine yours as the greater lights of the firmament do the lesser. As for our gallants the gentlemen of this nation, none I am sure are better able to manage an honourable and serious entertainment with more cordial handsome mag- nificence of address than they, setting aside the mode of the high rope of our Frenchified English apes. 161 and are become so dextrous at it, that seldome they make a sitting with- out design and booty : for there is here, ray Lord, no such thing as courtship after the decent mode of our circles ; for either being mingled in a room, the gentlemen separate from the conversation of the ladies, to drink, as I before related ; or else to whisper with one another, at some corner, or bay-window, abandoning the ladies to gossip by them- selves, which is a custome so strange to a gallant of our nation as no- thing appears more barbarous and unbecoming ; and this in effect must needs be the reason that those beautiful creatures can so little furnish, that they want assurance, address, and the charming discourse of our damoiseles, which are faculties so shining and agreeable in their sex with us in France : and, in truth, even the gentlemen themselves are greatly defective as to this particular, ill courtiers, unplyant, morose, and of vulgar address, generally not so polished, free, and serene, as is universally found even amongst the most inferiour of our nation. I am not ignorant that they impute it to a certain levity in us ; but it is a mistake in them, and that because they so hardly reform it without some ridiculous affectation, as is conspicuous in their several modes and dresses, which they vary ten times for our once, every one affecting something particular, as having no standard .at Court which should give laws and do countenance to the fashion. The women are much affected with gaudry, there being nothing more frequent than to see an ancient ladie wear colours, a thing which neither young nor old of either sex do with us, save in the country and the camp ; but widows at no apes. But when you shall pretend no child legitimate but your ill-faced bastards, and call that gallantry which swims uppermost in a giddy cranium and foisted garb^ a deformed posture against the wise product of nature, a goatish concupiscence, a salacious approach, fit only for satyrs ; if. Monsieur, these be your addresses, the beasts of the earth, the scum of rudeness, the excrements of nature, may discipline you in such wayes of reputed manners. " As for our aping you,, it is confest a few loose young souls, giddy like your selves, are your disciples ; but we may thank our alliance with you by civil contracts, which by your locust>like swarming hath infected us at such a height,, that we shall hardly claw it off without bloud or smart. " Comp. 12. To see th^ bals so disposed by dancing-masters, and their boldness with the ladies. " Monsieur, we intend not bals to make a meal of them, but as a condiment intended C& la volleej as transient actions, only for a divertisemerit ; yet want we not a decorum and a magnifi- Y 162 time. And yet reprove they us for these exorbitances; but I have often disputed the case : either we do ill, or well ; if ill, why then do they ape us ? if well, why do they reproach us ? The truth is, they have no mode- ration, and are neither so lucky nor frugal as our ladies are in these sumptuary expenses ; and whereof the magistrate takes so little "cogni- sance, that it is not an easy matter to distinguish the ladie from the chamber-maid; servants being suflFered in this brave countrey to go clad like their mistresses, a thing neither decent nor permitted in France, where they may wear neither lace nor silke. I may not forget to acquaint your Lordship, that though the ladies and the gentlemen are so shy of one another ; yet when once they grow acquainted, it passes into expressions and compellations extreamly new to our usages and the stile of our country. Do but imagine how it would become our ladies to call Mons. N. Jack N. What more frequent than this ? " Tom P. was here to day :" " I went yesterday to the Cours* with Will. R.; and Harry M. treated me at such a tavern." These are the particular idioms and graciefuU confidences now in use ; introduced, I conceive at first, by some camerades one with another ; but it is mean and rude, and such as our lacquaes would almost disdain in Paris, where I have often observed two chimney-sweepers accost one another in better forms and civlUer addresses. But to be confident and clvill is not a thing so easily understood j and seems a peculiar talent of our nation. However the ladles are not more obliging and familiar than the lords are difficult and Inaccessible ; . for though by reason of my birth and quality, my I'ecommen'datlons and addresses, I found some tolerable reception amongst them ; and yet I observ'd that they kept at such a cency, witness those grand masques in the Kings dayes, which were thought to excel all of this nature in Europe, as much as our playes do all your rhiming fools-babies j but your curtail'd Intelligencer, which hath brought you provision no further then from some petty schools of chil- dren, neither well educated nor well practised. " But, Monsieur, I hope these answers may inform you into a recantation, or else I must leave you scurrilous, and condemne your pamphlet to accommodate for sundry uses and purposes instead of your Weekly Gazets, as new-lye printed and new-lye come forth." * A place neer Paris, like Hide-parke. 163 surly distance with the gentlemen, even of a family, that methought 1 never beheld a ruder conversation ; especially, when comparing their parts and educations, I found them generally so much inferiour, as if a lord were indeed other than a gentleman; or. a gentleman not a fit companion for a king^ But this must needs be the result of an ill and haughty institution, and for that most of these great persons are in their minority, and the age wherein they should be furnished with the noblest impressions, taught only to converse with their servants, some syco- phants, and under the regiment of a pedant, which imprints that scorn- fulness and folly, and fits them with no better form when they should produce themselves, and give testimony to others as well of their supe- riority in vertue as in birth and dignity. But this is, my Lord, a parti- cular which I have heard you often complain of, and which we do fre- quently take notice of at their coming abroad into our countrey ; where for want of address and fit persons to introduce them, they seldome return more refined than^ they came ; else they could not but have observed, that there is nothing which makes the distinction of Nobles in France but the title, and that his Majesty himself do's them the honours, which here they usurpe upon their equalls. But, my Lord, they are sufficiently punished for it in England ; where, to me, they appear so degenerate fpr want of this humility and free conversation, by which, and their other vices, they grow now so' much despised, that the gentlemen need seek no revenge ; for though (as I told you) the gentlemen are most of. them very intemperate, yet the proverb goes, ** As drunk, as a Lord." But, my Lord, as there is no rule so generall but it does admit of exceptions, so should I give my own experience as well as your Lordships the contradiction, to make the censure univer- sal! ; there being even amongst these some few, and in particular my Lord N. and N. &c. whom I esteem to be very noble and accomplished persons, as who have learned (by the good fortune of a better education) how to value the conversations of worthy men, and who, indeed, do suffi- ciently verifie all those attributes which are due to their qualities, and therefore whom this paragraph doth no waies concern. Nor should I be less severe and unjust, totally to exclude even some of the ladies from the advantages of this period, whose perfections and 164 virtues claim an equal right to all that I have here spoken, out of a due resentiment of their merits and excellencies. It was fresquently, during the last winter, that I was carried to their balls, aswhere indeed I hoped to see what should appear the most of gallant and splendid amongst the ladies ; nor really did my expectations deceive me ; for there was a confluence of very great beauties, to which the glis- tring of their jewels (which upon these occasions they want not) could adde nothing save their weight ; the various habits being so particular, as if by some strange inchantment they had encountred and come out of severe nations ; but I was astonished to see, when they were ready to move, that a dancing-master had the boldness to take forth the greatest ladies, and they again the dancing-master, who performed the most part of the ball, whilst the gentlemen that were present were least con- cerned, and stood looking on, so as it appeared to me, more like the farce of a comedy at the Hostel de Bourgoyne*, than a ball of the Noblesse ; and in truth their measures, when any of them were taken out, made me somewhat ashamed to lead a lady, who did me the honor, for fear, though my skill be very vulgar in that exercise, they should have taken me for a dancing- master, as who had haply imploy'd my youth so ill, as to have some advantage of the rest in that faculty. This favour is particular to the dancing- masters in this country ; and reason good, for they ride in their coaches, and have such ample salaries, as maintains both their prodigality and insolence, that were insupportable in France, where these trifling fellows do better know themselves, are worse payed, and less f)resumptuous. Nay, so remiss are the ladies of their respect in this instance, that they not only entertain all this, but permit themselves likewise to be invited, and often honour these imper- tinent fantasticks, by receiving the ball at their petty schools. When this ceremony was ended, some of the gallants fell to other recreations, and as far as I understood, were offering at that innocent, yet salt and pleasant diversion, which in France we call ralliary ; but so far were they from maintaining it within the decencies and laws which both in that and our characters f we observe ; that in a little * The play-house at Paris, as once ours at Blackfryers. f A witty and a civil description of one anothers persons. 165 time, they fell so upon personal abusing one another, that there was much ado to preserve the peace, and, as 1 heard, it was the next day the product of a quarrel and a duell . I did frequently in the spring accompany my Lord N. into a field near the town, which they call Hyde-Parke ; the place not unpleasant, and which they use, as our Course ; but with nothing that order, equi- page, and splendor, being such an assembly of wretched jades and hackney-coaches, as next a regiment of carre-men there is nothing approaches the resemblance. This Parke was (it seemes) used by the late King and Nobility for the freshness of the air, and the goodly prospect : but it is that which now (besides all other excises) they pay for here in England, though it be free in all the world beside ; every coach and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission of the publicane who has pur- chased it, for which the entrance is guarded with porters and long staves. * The manner is, as the company returns, to alight at the Spring Gfarden, so called in order to the Parke, as our Thuilleries is to the Course; the inclosure not disagreeable, for the solemness of the grove, the warbling of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious walks at St. James's : but the company walk in it at such a rate, as you would think all the ladieswere so many Atalantases, contending with their wooers; and, my Lord, there was no appearance that I should prove the Hippomenes, who could with very much ado keep pace with them : but as fast as they run, they stay there so long, as if they wanted not time to finish the race ; for it is usuall here to find some of the young company till midnight ; and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all advantages of gallantry, after they have been refreshed with the collation, which is here seldome omitted, at a certain cabaret in the middle of this paradise, where the forbidden fruites are certain trifling tartes, neates-tongues, salacious meates, and bad Rhenish ; for which the gallants pay sauce, as indeed they do at all * " April 1 1, 1653. I went to take the aire in Hide Park, wiiere every coach was made to pay a shilling, and horse 6<1. by the sordid fellow who had purchas'd it of the state as they were eall'd." Memoirs, vol. 1. p. 264. 166 * jh houses throughout England ; for they think it a piece of frugality leath them, to bargaine or accompt for what they eat in atiy place, wever unreasonably impos'd upon : but thus those mean fellows are 5 I told; your Lordship) inriched ; begger and insult over the gen- men. I am assur'd that this particular host, has purchased, within a few arsi 5000 livres * of annuall rent ; and well he may, at the rates 2se prodigalls pay ; whereas in France, a gentleman esteems it no ninution to mannage even these expences with reason. But my )rd, it is now late, and time to quit this Garden, and to tell you, that think there is not a more illustrious sight in the world, than to meet e divinities of our court marching up the long walk in the Thuille- ;s, where the pace is so stayed and grave, the encounters so regular d decent ; and where those who feed their eyes with their beauties, d their ears with the charming accents of their discourse and voyces, ed not those refreshments of the other senses, finding them all to so taken up with these. I was curious before my return, and when I had conquer'd some diffi- Ities of the language and customeS, to visite their judicatures ; where sides that few of their Gown-men are to be compared to those, of e robe in our Palais •{'for elocution, and the talent of well speaking; neither do they at all exceed them in the forms and colours of their eading ; but (^as before I spake of their ralliary) supply the defects of e cause, with flat, insipide and grossely abusing one another; a thing I trifling and misbecoming the gravity of courts (where the lawyers ke liberty to jeast mens estates away, and yet avow their avarice) that have much admired at the temper of the Judges, and their remisse- ;ss in reforming it; there was a young person, whom- at my being lere, was very much cried up for his abilities, and in whom I did not )serve that usuall intemperance which I but now reproved ; and cer- Inly it springs either for want of those abilities which the municipall wes of this nation (consisting most of them in customes like our ormandy,) whose ancient dialect their books yet retain, are so little * 500i. per ^nnum of our moneys. f Wliere they plead as at Westminster. 167 t to furnish ; or the defect of those advantages, which the more llshed sciences afiford us, without which it is itn possible to be good itors, and to maintaine their discourses, without diversion to that vile pertinency. But what is infinitely agreable in this country, are the bowling- sens, and the races, which are really such pleasures abroad as we ve nothing approaches them in France, and which I was extreamly lighted in ; but the verdure of the country, and delicious downes it is lich renders them this praeheminence, and indeed, it is to be valued, d doth in my esteeme, very much commute for the lesse benignity of it glorious planet which ripens our vineis in France. The horses and the doggs, their incomparable parkes of fallow deer, d lawes of chace, I extreamly approve of: but upon other occasions, Englishmen ride so fast upon the road, that you would swear there !re some enemle in the arlere ; and all the coaches in London seem drive for midwives. But what did much more afflict me is their ceremony at the table, where ery man is obliged to sit till all have done eating, however their petites differ, and to see the formality of the voider, wbich our with- iwing roomes in France are made to prevent, and might so here, if ey knew the use of them to be, that every man may rise when he has I'd without the least indecency, and leave the sewers to their office. I have now but a word to adde, and that is the tediousness of visits, lich they make here so long that it is a very tyranny to sit to so little rpose : if the persons be of ladies that are strangers, it is to look on each other, as if they had never seen any of their own kinde fore ; and here indeed the virtue of their sex is eminent ; for they are silent and fixt as statues ; or if they do talk, it is with censure, and [ficient confidence ; so difficult it is to entertain with a grace, or to serve a mediocrity. ^ In summe, my Lord, I found so many particulars worthy of reproof in those remarks which 1 have been able to make ; that to render you rentable account of England, as it is at present I must pronounce th the poet, — Difficile est satyram non scribere. FINIS. AN APOLOGY FOR THE ROYAL PARTY, WRITTEN IN iTTER TO A PERSON OF THE LATE COUNCEL OF STATE. BY A LOVER OF PEACE AND OF HIS COUNTRY. WITH TOUCH AT THE PRETENDED "PLEA FOR THE ARMY. ANNO DOM. MDCHX. QUARTO. AN APOLOGY FOR THE ROYAL PARTY*. WRITTEN IN A LETTER TO A PERSON OF THE LATE COUNCEL OF STATE. Sir, The many civilities which you are still pleased to continue to me, and my very great desire to answer them in the worthiest testimonies of my zeal for your service, must make my best apology for this manner of addresse ; if out of an extream affection for your noblest interest, I seem transported a little upon your first reflections, and am made to despise the consequence of entertaining you with such truths as are of the greatest danger to my self, but of no less import to your happinesSj and which carry with them the most indelible characters of my friend- ship. For if, as the Apostle affirms, " For a good man some would even dare to die," why should my charity be prejudged, if, hoping to convert you from the errour of your way, I despair not of rendring you the person for whose preservation there will be nothing too dear for me to expose ? I might with reason beleeve that the first election of the party wherein you stood engaged, proceeded from inexperience and the mistake of your zeal; riot to say from your compliances to the passions of others; because 1 both knew your education, and how obsequious you have alway^s shewed your self to those who had then the direction of you : but, when after the example of their conversion, upon discovery of the impostures which perverted them, and the signal indignation of God upon the several periods which your eyes have lately beheld, of the bloudiest tyranies, and most prodigious oppressors that ever any age of the world produced, I see you still persist in your course, and that you * " 7th Nov. 1659, was published my bold Apology for the King in this time of danger, when it was capital to speake or write in favour of him. It was twice printed, so universally it tooke." Evelyn's Memoirs, vol. I. p. 306. 172 have turned about with every revolution which has hapned : when I consider what contradictions you have swallowed, how deeply you have ingaged, how servilely you have flatter'd, and the base and mean sub- missions by which you have dishonour'd your self, and stained your noble family ; not to mention the least refinement of your religion or morality, (besides that you have still preserved a civility for me, who am ready to acknowledge it, and never merited other from you,} I say, when I seriously reflect upon all this, I cannot but suspect the integrity of your procedure, deplore the sadness of your condition, and resolve to attempt the discovery of it to you, by all the instances which an affection perfectly touch't with a zeal for your eternall interest can pro- duce. And who can tell but it may please Almighty God to affect you yet by ^ weak instrument, who have resisted so many powerfull indica- tions of his displeasure at your proceedings, by the event of things ? For, since you are apt to recriminate, and after you have boasted of the prosperity of your cause, and the thriving of your wickedness (an argument farr better becoming a Muhametan then a Christian) let us state the matter a little, and compare particulars together ; let us go back to the sourcCj and search the very principles ; and then see if ever any cause had like success indeed; and whether it be a just reproach to your enemies, that the judgements of God have begun with them, whilst you know not yet where they may determine. First then, be pleased to look northwards upon your brethren the Scots, (who being instigated by that crafty Cardinal [^RichlieuJ to disturb the groth of. the incomparable Church of England, and so con- sequently the tranquility of a nation, whose expedition at the Isle of Ree gave terrour tq the. French,) made reformation their pretence to gratifie their own avarice, introduce themselves and a more than Baby- lonish tyrany, imposing on the Church and State beyond all impudence or, example. , I say, Iqok upon what they have gotten by deceiving their brethren, selling their King, betraying his son, and by all their perfidle ; but a slavery more then Egyptian, and an infamy as unpa- rallel'd, as their treason and ingratitude. Look neerer home on those whom they had ingaged amongst us here, and tell me if there be a person of them left that can shew me 173 his prize, unless it be that of his sacrileidg, which he or his nephews must certainly vomite up again: what is become of this ignorant and furious zeal, this pretence of an universall perfection in the religious and the secular, after all that blood and treasure, rapine and injustice, which has been exhausted, and perpetrated by these sons of thunder ? Where is the King whom they swear to make so glorious, but meant it in his martyrdome? Where is the classis, and the assembly, the Lay- elder; all that geare of Scottish discipline, and the fine new trinkets of reformation ? Were not all these taken out of their hand, while now they were in the height of their pride and triumph ? And their dull Generall made to serve the execution of their Soveraign, and then to be turn'd off himself, as a property no more of use to their designes ? Their riches and their strength, in which they trusted, and the Parlia- ment which they even idoliz'd ; in sum, the prey they had contended for at the expence of so much sin and damnation, seizd upon by those very instruments which they had rais'd to serve their insatiable avarice and prodigious disloyalty. For so it pleased God to chastise their implacable persecution of an excellent Prince, with a slavery under such a tyrant *, as not being contented to butcher even some upon the scaflfold, sold divers of them for slaves, and others he exild into cruell banishment, without pretence of law or the least commiseration; that those who before had no mercy on others, might find none themselves ; till, upon some hope of their repentance and future moderation, it pleased God to put his hook into the nostrills of that proud, Leviathan, and send him to his place, after he had thus mortified the fury of the Presbyterians, - For unlesse God should utter his voice from Heaven, yea, and that a mighty voice, can there any thing in the world be more evident, then his indignation at those wretches and barefac't impostors, who, one after another, usurped upon us, taking them oflF at the very point of aspiring, and prsecipitating the glory and ambition of these men before those that were but now their adorers, and that had pros- tituted their consciences to serve their lusts? To call him the Moses, the Man of God, the Joshua, the Saviour of Israel ; and, after all this, * Oliver Cromwell. 174 to treat the Thing his son with addresses no lesse then blasphemous, whose Father (as themselves confess to be the most infamous hypocrite and proflegate Atheist of all the usurpers that ever any age produc'd) had made them his Vassalls, and would have intaild them so to his posterity for ever ? But behold the scene is again changed, not by the Royal party, the common enemy, or a foreign power ; but by the despicable rumpe of a Parliament, which that mountebanke had formerly serv'd himself of, and had rais'd himself- to that pitch, and investiture : but see, withall, how soon these triflers and puppets of policy are blown away, with all their pack of modells and childish chimaeras, nothing remaining of them but their coffine, guarded by the souldiers at Westminster ; but which is yet lesse empty then the heads of these politicians, which so lately seemed to fill it. For the rest, I despise to blot paper with a recitall of those wretched interludes, farces, and fantasms, which appear'd in the severall inter- valls ; because they were nothing but the effects of an extream gyddi- ness, and unparallel'd levity. Yet these are the various despensations and providences in your journey to that holy land of purchases and profits, to which you have from time to time appeal'd for the justifica- tion of your proceedings, whilst they were indeed no other then the manifest judgements of God upon your rebellion and your ambition : I say nothing of your hypocriticall fasts and pretended humiliations, previous to the succeeding plots and supposititious revelations, that the godly might fall into the hands of your captains, because they were bugbears, and became ridiculous even to the common people. And now Sr. if you please, let us begin to set down the product, and survey the successe of your party ; and, after all these faces and vertigos, tell me ingenuously, if the chastisement which is fallen upon one afflicted man, and his loyall subjects, distressed by the common event of war, want .of treasure, the seizure of his fleet, forcing him from his city, and all the disadvantages that a perfidious people could imagine • but in fine the crowning him with a glorious martyrdome for the Church of God and the liberty of his people (for which his blood doth yet cry aloud for vengeance) be comparable to the confusion which you 175 (that have heen the conquerours) have suffered, and the slavery which you are like to leave to the posterities vvhich will be born but to curse you, and to groan under the pressures which you bequeath to your own flesh and blood? For to what a condition you have already reduced this once florish'ing kingdom, since all has been your own, let tjie intolerable oppressions, taxes, excises, sequestrations, confiscations, plun- ders, customes, decimations, not to mention the plate, even to the very thimbles and the bodkins (for even to these did your avarice descend), and other booties, speak : all this dissipated and squandered away, to gratifie. a few covetous and ambitious wretches, whose appetites are as deep as hell, and as insatiable as the grave ; as if (as the wise-man speaks) " our time here were but a market for gain." Look then -into the churches, and, manners of the people, even amongst your own saints ; and tell me if, since Simon Magus was upon the earth, there was ever heard of so many schismes, and here-, sies, of Jewes and Socinians, Quakers, Fifth- monarchy-men, Arians, Anabaptists, Independants, and a thousand severall sorts of blasphemous and professed Athiests, all of them spawned under your government ; and then tell me what a reformation of religion you have effected ? Was there ever in the whole earth (not to mention Christendom alone) a perjury so prodigious, and yet so avowed as that by which you have taken away the estate of my Lo. Craven *, at which the very Infidels would blush, a Turke or Sythian stand amazd. Under the Sun was it never heard that a man should be condemned for transgressing no law but that which was made after the fact, and abrogated after execution ; that the posterities to come might not be witnesses of your horrid injustice : yet thus you proceeded against my Ij. Strafford +. How many are those gallant persons whom after articles * William Earl of Craven, a firm supporter of King Charles I. whose house at Caversham near Reafling, was destroyed, and " his goodly woods" which Evelyn saw " felling by the Rebells ;" J Diary, vol. I. 8th of June, 1654. See also Whitelock's Memorials, pp. 609, 610, 698. f " 12th May, 1641. I beheld on Tower Hill the fatal stroke which sever'd the wisest head in England from th^ Aoulders of (Thomas Wentyvorth) the Earle of Strafford ; whose crime coming iaoder the cpgnizance of no human law, a new one was made, not to be a precident, but his destrqctiqn i to such exorbitancy were things arived" Memoirs, voL I. p. 10. + His Town Resideace at the end of Wych-street, Drury Lane, shared the same fete. ire of war, you have butchered in cold-blood, violating your promises against the lawes of all nations, civill or barbarous ; and yet you thus dealt in the case of my Lord CapeP, Sr. John StaweP, and others. Is not the whole nation become sullen and proud, ignorant and sus- picious, incharitable, curst, and, in fine, the most depraved and perfidious under heaven ? And whence does all this proceed, but from the effects of your own exaimples, and the impunity of evill doers ? I need not tell you how long justice has been sold by the Com- mittees, and the Chair-men, the Sequestrators, and Symoniacall Fryers, not to mention the late Courtiers, and a swarm of Publicans who have eaten up the people as if they would feat bread. Will you come now to the particular misfortunes, and the evident hand of God upon you for these actions (for- He has not altogether left us with- out some express witnesses of his displeasure at yoiir doings). Behold then your Essex ^ and your Warwick ^, your Manchester ^, Browne ®, ' Arthur Lord Capel, who bravely defended Colchester ; but when the garrison was forced to surrender, he yielded himself a prisoner, and was beheaded 9th March 1648-9, in violation of a promise of quarter given him by General Fairfax. ' Sir John Stawell, Knight of the Bath, a loyalist who steadfastly adhered to the cause of King Charles I. and suffered very much on that account. He was of Queen's College, Oxford; one of the Knights for Somersetshire in the fatal Parliament of 1640, and in several subsequent Parlia- ments ; taking up arms, with three of his sons, he raised and maintained at his own charge three regiments of horse, and one of dragoons, and another of foot, for the service of his injured Sove- reign : and on the reduction of Taunton in 1643, he was made governor. Sir John was engaged with other loyalists in the defence of Exeter, which sustained a blockade and siege from October 28, 1645,'to April 9, 1646, when it surrendered to Sir Thomas Fairfax, upon articles signed by him and the garrison, and confirmed by both Houses of Parliament. However, he was not only debarred of the benefit of composition, but on coming to London, to reap the benefit of the capi- tulation, was sent prisoner to Ely-house in Holborn, and deprived of his estate. He endured tedious imprisonments in the press-yard in Newgate and other gaols, and afterwards in the Tower of London. Though reduced to the greatest want and misery, yet by the subsistence which his aged mother, tlie Lady Elizabeth Griffin, afforded him, he lived to see the happy Restoration, was again elected one of the representatives for Somersetshire, and died Feb. 21, 1661, and was buried in the church of Cotholstone, in that county, leaving a son and heir, Ralph Stawell, esq. created Lord Stawell of Somerton, in consideration of the eminent loyalty and sufferings of his fether. > Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, only son of the unfortunate favourite of Queen Elizabeth and who inherited much of his popularity. He became General of the Parliament arniy, and for a long time was victorious in their cause ; yet obliged, from the result of the memorable battle of Edgehill, where he was routed, to retreat to Warwick Castle : and afterwards in Cornwallj he was Fairfax^, and your Waller^ (whom once your books stiled the Lord of Hosts), casheered, imprisoned, suspected and disgraced after all their services. Hotham ^ and his Son came to the block : Stapleton '" had the compelled to abandon his oyvn army, and proceed to London by sea : for which disasters, the Parlia- ment, who so solemnly swore before to live and die with him, dispensed themselves of that oath, and deprived him of his command. He died 14th Sept. 1646, not without suspicionof poison, if we may credit the author of a curious tract, intituled, " The Traytors Perspective Glass," 4to. 1662. p. 10. ♦ Robert Rich, Earl of Warvvick, Lord High Admiral, died 19th April 16.58. ' Edward Montagu, Earl of JManchester, a nobleman of many good qualities, was a zealous and able patron of liberty, but without enmity to monarchy. He was one of the avowed patriots in the House of Peers, and was the only member of that House who was accused by Charles of high treason, together with the five members of the House of Commons. In the civil war, he raised an army of horse, which he commanded in person : he forced the town of Lynn to submit to the Parliament; defeated the Earl of Newcastle's army at Horncastle; took Lincoln by storm in 1644, and had a principal share in the victory at Marston Moor. After the battle of Newbury, he was suspected of favouring the King's interest ; nayj even accused by Cromwell of neglect of duty, and deprived of his commission. He heartily concuired in the restoration of Charles the Second, who appointed him LordChamberlainof his household, and died May 5, 1671, aged 69. * Major-general Browne, though he was then Sheriff of London, was committed to prison in 1648, with Sir John Clotworthy, Sir William Waller, Major-general Massey, and Commissary- general Copley, " who were the most active Members in the House of the Presbyterian party, and who had all as maliciously advanced the service of the Parliament in their several stations against the King as any men of their rank in the kingdom, and much more than any officer of the present army had then credit to do." Clarendon. ' Thomas Lord Fairfax, at the breaking out of the Rebellion, took a decided part against the King, as his father, Ferdinando Lord Fairfax, also did, under whom he served till he obtained a principal command. He contributed to the victory at Naseby; and next went into the West of England, the whole of which he subdued. He assisted, however, in the Restoration, and retired into Yorkshire, where he died, 1671- " Sir William Waller, knt. was one of the most active of the Parliament Generals, and was for a considerable time victorious, and therefore called " William the Conqueror." He was, however, beaten by Sir Richard Greenville and Sir Nicholas Slanning at the battle of Lansdown, near Bath, July 5, 1643 ; again at Roundway Down, near the Devizes, on the 13th of the same month; and was defeated by the King at Croperdy Bridge, June 29th, 1644. The conqueror's fame sunk conside- rably, but he afterwards beat his former fellow-soldier, the Lord Hopeton, at Alresford. He died September 19, 1669. "A Vindication of his Character, and Explanation of his Conduct, in taking up Arms against King Charles I." written by himself, was published in 1793, in 8vo, from the original MS. 9 " A man," says Granger, " of a timid and irresolute nature, and without any firm principles of attachment to the King or Parliament, was, by the latlter, appointed Governor of Hull, the most considerable magazine of arras and ammunition in the Kingdom. Charles, perceiving to what lengths the Commons were proceeding, was determined to seize this fortress ; but was pe- remptorily refused admittance, when he appeared before it in person, by the Governor, who was 2 A 178 burial! of an asse, and was thrown iqto a totyn ditch, Brooke" and Hamden^^ signally slain in the very apt of rebellion and sacriledg; your Athesiastieall Dorislaw ^^, Ascam *% and the Spdomiticall Ariba ^^, whom instantly proelainied a traitor. Though Hotham was employed, he was not trusted ; his son^ who was much niore devoted to the Parliament, was a constant check and spy upon him. At length, both father and son were prevailed upon to listen tp the overtures of some of the Royalists, and to ,er}ter into a correspondence with them. This quickly brought them to the. block ."->— The son was beheaded on Tower-hill, January 1, 1645, and Sir John the following day. '" Sir Philip Stapleton and John Hamden formed the Committee appointed by Parliament to attend the King in Scotland. — See Clarendon, " Robert Lqrd Brooke, a member of the Long Parliament, and a very obstinate and violent opposer of the King, and persecutor of the Bishops and Clergy. In besieging Lichfield Cathedral, '' being harnessed pap-a-pe," he was shot with a musket in tiie eye by a Prebendary's son from the wall of the Close, whilst he was sitting at his chamber-window, April 1643. " John Hampden was one of the first whO' took up arms against the King, being a Colonel of foot, and was shot in the shoulder with a brace of bullets on the 18th of June 1643, in a skirmish with Prince Rupert, at Chalgrove-field, near Brill, in Oxfordshire; and after suiFering much pain and misery, he died on the 24th of that month, and was buried in the church of Great Hamden. " Isaac Dorislaus, or Dorisjaw, was originally a school-master, and afterwards Doctor of Civil Law, at Leyden, whence coming irtto England, he was entertained by Fulk Lord Brook, and by him appointed to read an History Lecture in Cambridge ; but in his first lecture decrying mo- narchy, was, upon the complaint of Dr. John Cosin, Master of Peterhouse, silenced, and about that time m^u-rying a woman near Maiden in Kssex",. lived there for some time. Afterwards he became Judge Advocate in the King's army, in one of his expeditions against the Scots, then Advo- cate in the army against the King under Robert Earl of Essex, afterwards under Sir Thomas Fair-i fax ; and April 13, 1648, was appointed oneof the Judges of the Court of Admiralty, with Doctors Clerk and Exton; January 10th, 1648-9, he was chosen assistant in drawing up and managing the charge against King Charles,' J. and selected by the Parliament as an Envoy to Holland to prose- cute their designs, He arrived at the Hague in May 1649, King Charles H. heipg then there in exile, which bold act offending certain English royalists attending his Majesty,, about twelve of them in disguise repaired to his lodging, and finding him at supper, stabbed him in several places, and cut his throat, whereupon one of them said; " Thus dies one of the King's Judges." His body was conveyed to England, and buried in the Abbey Church at Westminster, which is thus alluded to by Evelyn ia his Memoirs (vol, L p. 285) : " This night, June 14, 1649, was buried with great pomp Dorislaus, slaine at the Hague : the villain who managed the trial of his Majesty." In Sep. teniber 1661, his remaiAS were taken up, with the bodies of other Cromwellians, and buried in St. Margaret's church-yard adjoining. History of King-killing, Svo. 1719. '* Anthony Aschami memljer of the Long ParliJamen.t, and author of " The Confusions and Revo- lutions in Governments : wherein is examined how far a Man may lawfully conforme to the Powers %nd Commands of those who, with various Successes, hold> Kingdoms divided by Civil or Foreign W&rs." 8vo. 1649, He was an active person against hia Sovereign, was concerned in drawing. up the King's trial,. and, after his execution, was sent by Crpmwell in 1650 Ambassador to the Court oft Madrid, where- he was assassinated at his lodgings by some English loyalists. . .-}f> TheEditor, after much research, cannot find any notice of this wretched character. though they escaped the hand of justiice,(^et vengeance would not suffer to live. What became of Rains burro w'^-^ Ireton''^ perished of the plague^ and Hoyle'« hanged himself; Staplie^^ died mad, add CromwelP" in a fit. of rageing ; and if there Wefe any others wofthy the taking notice of, I should give you a list of their n^mes'dnd of their destinies, but it was not kndwn whenceithey came which succeeded them ; nor had they left any memory behind them, but for their signall wickednesses, as he that set on fire the 'Ephesian Temple to be recorded ajvillain to- posterity. Whereas those noble souls whom your 'inhumanity (n6t your vertue) betrayed gave iproof of their extraction, innocency, reli- gion, and constancy, under- all their tryalls and tormentors ; and those that died by the sword fell in the bed of honour, and did worthily for their countrey ; their loyalty and their yehgion will be renowned in the history of ageSj and precious to their memory when your names will ? Thomas Rainsborough, Colonel in Cromwell's army, and appointed by Fairfax to command the troops before Pontefract Castle. He was shot in his own quarters, an inn in Doncast'er, November 1648j,before the face of some of his soldiers, by a party of cavaliers from Pohtefract, urider a pretence of delivering him a letter from Cromwell. Whitelock's Memorials. " Henry Ireton was a student in the Middle Temple, but when the Rebellion broke out, he joincid the Parliament, and signalized himself at the battle of Naseby. He was concerned with General Lambert in drawing vtp the remonstrance of the Army to the Parliament ; and having Bifirried Si daughter of Oliver Cromwell, he soon rose .to preferment, and became Commissary- general. jHe sat in jtidgment upon the King, ^yhom he had previously betrayed, and in 1650 went as commander of the army in Ireland, where he died at the siege of Limerick 26th November in the following year. .. '* Thomas Hoyle, a merchant and alderman of York, a memberof the Long Parliament; chosen Lord Mayor qf Yqrk, first i» 1632, and again in 1644 : " a bitter enemy against his Prince, for which Croin,well. rewarded him with the place of Treasurer's Remembrancer in the Exchequer; *vho on that day twelve months that fhe King lost his life, made a bonfire for joy he was belieaded; Ijut oil the same day twelve months after,^ miserably hanged himself." Traytors Perspective Glass, 4to. 1662, p. 13. ''s Srithony Stapely, a native of Sussex, Colonel and Governor of Chichester^ tme-of the King'-s judges, and who also signed the warrant for his execution. He died previously to the Restoration. 20 " He was cut oEF by a miserable and tormenting sickness, which caused him two ^ays before his death to roar sp loud, and make such doleful clamours, that his Council, being informed that many persons as they passed by his chsimber window took much notice of his crys, thought fit to have him removed from the place where he then lay to one more private, where with extremity of anguish, and terror of conscience, he finished his fniserable life, for he dyed mad and despairing, September 3, 1658." The Traytors Perspective Glass, by I.T. 4to. 1662. 180 rot with your carcasses, and your remembrance be as dung upon the face of the earth. For there is already no place of Europe where your infamy is not spread, whilst your persecuted brethren rejoyce in their sufferings, can abound, and can want, blush not at their actions, nor are ashamed at their odd addresses, because they have suffered for that which their faith and their birth, their lawes and their liberties have celebrated with the most glorious inscriptions, and everlasting elogies. And if fresher instances of all these particulars be required, cast out your eye a little v^pon the Armies pretended Plea *, which came lately a birding to beat the way before them, charm the ears of the vulgar, and captivate the people ; that after all its pseudo-politicks and irreligious principles, is at last constrained to acknowledg your open and prodigious violations, " Strange and (very) illegal actions, (as in termes it con- " fesses) of taking up armes, raising and forrairig armies against the " King, fighting against his person, imprisoning, impeaching, arraigning, " trying and executing him : banishing his children, abolishing Bishops, "Deans and Chapters; taking away Kingly Government, and the " House of Lords, breaking the crowns, selling the Jewells, plate, goods, " houses, and lands belonging unto the Kings of this nation, erecting " extraordinary High Courts of Justice, and therein impeac^hing, arraign- " ing, condemning, and executing many pretended notorious enemies to " the pubHque peace; when the lawes in being and the ordinary Courts " of Justice could not reach them : by strange and unknown practises in " this nation, and not at all justifiable by any known lawes and statutes +," but by certain diabolicall principles of late distilled into some persons of the army, and which he would intitle to the whole, who (abating some of their commanders that have sucked the sweet of this doctrineY had them never so much as entred into their thoughts, nor could they * A quarto tract of thirty pages, intituled, " The Army's Plea for their present Practice ; ten- dered to the Consideration of all ingenuous and impartial Men. Printed and ])ublished by special Command." 1659: which, according to a manuscript memorandum on the title-page of the copy preserved in the British Museum, was published on the 24th of October, three days before the date of the present answer.— A copy of this pamphlet is likewise in the Library of the London Institution. f The Army's Plea, p. 5. 181 h& so depraved, though they were masters only of the light of nature to direct them. For comnion sense will tell them, that whoever are our lawfull superiours, and invested with the supream authority, either by their own vertue, or the peoples due election, have then a just right to challenge submission to their precepts, and that we acquiesce in their determinations ; since there is in nature no other expedient to preserve us from everlasting confusion : but it is the height of all impertinency to conceive, that those which are a part of themselves, and can in so great a body have no other interests, should fall into such exorbitant contradiction to their own good, as a child of four years old would not be guilty of; and as this Phamphlete wildly suggests, in pp. 6. 11. 2J. &c. did they steer their course by the known lawes of the land, and as obedient subjects should do, who without the King and his Peers, are but the carcass of a Parliament, as destitute of the soul which should informe and give it being. But if so small a handfull of men as ap- peared in the Palace-Yard without consent of a quarter of the English Army, much lesse of the ten thousandth part of the free people that are not clad in red, shall disturb and alter a Government when it thinkes fit to set aside a few imperious officers, who plainly seek themselves, and derive their commissions from a superiour to whom they swear obedience, (I meane not here the Rumpe) who shall ever hope, or live to see any government established In these miserably abused nations ? For I dare report my self to the ingenuity of the very souldiers them- selves if they, who have effected all these changes by your wretched insti- gations, and blind pretences, imagine themselves the people of this Nation, but as a very small portion of them compared to the whole, and who are maintained by them, to recover and protect the Civil! Go- vernment, according to the good old Laws of the Land ; not such as they themselves shall invente from day to day, or as the interests of some few persons may engage them. But if the essential end of Rulers be the common peace, and their Laws obliging as they become relative : restore us then to those under which we lived with so much sweetness and tranquility, as no age in the world, no government under Heaven, could ever pretend the like. And if the people (as you declare) are to be the judges of it, summon 182 them t6gethet in a Free Parliament, according to its legal Constitution J or make a universal balottj ^ndthen let it appear, \f Colonel Laoaberfrf^ and. half a dozen officers, with all their seduced partizans, make-jsa much as a single cypher to the sunjme total. And this shall he enough to answer thpse devious principles set down in the porch of that speoi^ ous edifice ; ^hich being erected upon the sand,> will (like the rest thai has been daiibefd with' untempered inortar) sink also at the next* high vvinde that blowes upon it. But I am glad it is at last avowed, upon what pretexts that late pretended Parliament have pleaded on the behalf of themselves and party, theii' discharge from all the former protesta- tions, engagements, solenEin vows, covenants, with hands (as you say) lift up to the most high God, as also their oaths and allegiance, &c. because I shall not in this discdurse'be charged with slandering of them, and that the whole world may detest the actions of such ,peri fidious infidels, with whom nothing sacred has remained inviolable* : But'thei*e is. yet a piece of artifice behihde, of no sless consequence then the former, .and that is, a seeking to perswade the present armie that they were the men ^Vho first e'ngagedthus solemnly -to ; destroy the Goyerhment unde^ which they were born, arid reduce it to this miserable condition : whereas it is well known by such as daily cori^verse with them, : that there- is hardly one of ten amongst them, who was then in arms, and that it was the zelots under Essex, Manchester.^ Waller, and the succeeding Generals, who were the persons of whpgie perfidiousness he makes so much u.se, and' that the present army, con^ sists of a far more ingenuous spirit; and might in one moment yiiidi^ qate this aspersion, make their conditions with all advantage^ and these nations thje most happy people upon the earth, as it. cannot be despaired but they will one day do, when by the goodness of Almighty God, they shall perfectly discern through the mist which youliave cast upon. * Major-gefteral Lambert, who distinguished himself by his valour and conduct during the civil war, was second to Cromwell iii courage, in prudence, aild capacity, but was equal to him drily in- ambition. He, however, escaped puAishment at the Restoration, and when, brought to his trial, behaved with more submission than the meanest, of his fellow prisoners, and was reprieved at the bar. He was banished to the Isle of Guernsey, where he coutitiued in patient confinement for more than thirty years. 183 their eyes, .lest they should. discover the imposture of these Egyptia sorcerors. And now Sir, if, after all this injustice and impiety on your part you. have prosecuted that with the extreamest madness, which yc deemed criminal in your enemies, viz. To arrogate the supream pow< to a single person, condemn men without law, execfbte aTwd proscrib them with as little : imprest for your service, violate your Parliamen dispenses with your solemn oaths; in summe,, to mingle -Earth an Hmven : by your unarhltrary proceedings :; all which^ not only you p»ireted books, this pretended Plea, but your actions have abundant! declared; have you not justified the Royal party, and ipronounced then the oftly honest men which have appeared upon the stage, in character as plain that he which runs may read, whilst yet you persecute them t( the death ? *.' The'refore, thou art inexcusable, O man, that: perpetrates these things ; for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thy self p so seeing thou that judgest doest the same things. But thinkes thou this, O man, that thus judged them which do such things, anc doest. the same, that thou shalt escape the vengeance of God? ] tell ye nay, -hut, except ye repent, ye shall all likevyise perish." Truly, 3ir, when I compare; these things together, and compare them 'I do very often, consider the purchases which you have made, and the damnation you have certainly adventured ; the despite you haye dorteto the name of, Christ, the laws of common humanity which yoii have violated, the malice and folly of your proceedings ; in fine, the confusion which you have hrought upon (the Church, the. State, and your selves, I adore the just and righteous judgment of God; and ^Wvvsoever -you- may possibly emerge, and recover the present rout) had rather be a sufferer amongst those whom you have thus afflicted, and thus censure, then ^njoy the pleasures of your .sins for that season you are likely to possess them : for if an Angel from Heaven should tell' me you had done your duties, I vi^ould no more believe him then if. he should preach another Gospel then that which has been delivered to us; because -you have blasphemed that holy profession j and done ^oknce- to that gracious Spirit by whose sacred dictates you are taught to live in obedience to your superiours, and in charity to one another ; 184 covering yet all this hydra of Impostures with a mask of piety ! reformation, whilst you breathe nothing , but oppression, and lie wait to deceive." "But, O God ! how long shall the adversary do i dishonour? how long shall the enemy blaspheme thy name, for ev( They gather them together against the soul of the righteous, and c^ demn the innocent blood. Lo ! these are the ungodly, these prospei the world,, and these have riches in possession. : and I said, then h I cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocency. li and I had almost said as they : but lo, then I should have condemi the generation of thy children. Then thought I to understand tl but it was too hard for me, until I went into the sanctuary of G( then understood I the end of these men. Namely, how thou dost them in slippery places, castest them down and destroyest them." O how suddenly do they consume, perish, and come to a fearful end We have seen it, indeed Sir, we have seen it, and we cannot but knowledge it the very, finger of God, mirabile in ocy,lis nostris ; \ is that truly, which even constrains me out of charity to your soul, well as out of a deep sense of your honour, and the friendship whic otherwise bear you, to beseech you to re-enter into your self, to ah don those false principles, to withdraw your self from the seducers, repent of what you have done, and save your self from this untow generation : there is yet a door of repentance open, do not provoke Majestic of the great God any longer, which yet tenders a reconci tion to you. Remember what was once said over the perishing Je salem. " How often would I have gathered you together, as a hen d gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not ? Behold y house is left unto you desolate." For do not think it impossible, t we should become the most abandon'd and barbarous of all the nati under Heaven. You know who has said it: " he turneth a fruitful 1, into a wildernesse, for the iniquity of them that inhabit therein." 1 truly, he that shall seriously consider the sad catastrophe of the EasJ Empire, so flourishing in piety, policy, knowledg, literature, and the excellencies of a happy and blessed people, would almost thin impossible, that in so few years, and amidst so glorious a light of lea ing and religion, so suddain and palpable a darknesse, so strange 185 horrid a barbarity should over spread them, as now we behold in all that goodly tract of the Turkish dominions. And what was the cause of all this, but the giddinesse of a wanton people, the schism, . and the heresies in the Churchj and the prosperous successes of a rebellious impostor, whose steps we have pursued in so many pregnant instances^ giving countenance to those unheard of impieties and delusions, as if God be not infinitely merciful, must needs- involve us under the same disaster ? For, whilst there is no order in the Church, no body of Re- ligion agreed upon, no government established, and that every man is abandon'd to his own deceitful heart : whilst learning is decried, and honesty discountenanc'd, rapine defended, and vertue finds no advo- cate ; what can we in reason expect, but the most direful expression of the wrath of God, a universal desolation, when by the industry of Sathan and his crafty emissaries, some desperate enthusiasme, com- pounded (like that of Mahomet,) of Arian, Socinian, Jew, Anabaptist, and the Impurer Gnostick, something, I say, made up of all these here- sies shall diflFuse it self over the Nation in a universal contagion, and nothing lesse appear then the Christian which we have so ingratefully renounced. "For this plague is already beginning amongst us, and there is none to take the censer and to stand between the living and the dead, that we be not consumed as in a moment; for there is wrath gone out from the Lord. Let us then depart from the tents of those wicked men (who have brought all this upon us) and touch nothing of theirs, lest we be consumed in all their sins." But you will say, the King is not to be trusted : judg not of others by your selves ; did ever any man observe the least inclination of revenge in his breast? has he not, besides the innate propensity of his own nature to gentlenesse, the strict injunctions of a dyfng father and a martyr to forgive even greater offenders than yoU' are ? Yes, I dare pronounce it with confidence, and avouch it with all assurance, that there is not an individual amongst you, whose crimes are the most crimson, whom he will not be most rieady to pardon', and graciously receive upon their re- pentance ; nor any thing that can be desired of him to which he would 2 B 186 not claeiBrfally accomode, for the stopping of that torrent of blood and extream confusion which has hitherto run, and is yet imminent over us. Do but reason a little with your self, and consider sadly whether a young Prince, mortified by so many afflictions, disciplin'd by so much experi- ence, and instructed by the miscarriages of others, be not the most excellently qualified to govern and reduce a people, who have so suc- ceslesly tried so many governments of old, impious, and crafty foxes, that have exercis'd upon us the most intolerable tyranies that were ever heard of. But you object further, that he has lived amongst Papists, is vitiously inclin'd, and has wicked men about him : what can be said more un- justly, what more malitious ? And can you have the foreheads to tell us he has lived amongst Papists to his prejudice, who have proscrib'd him from Protestants, persecuted him from place to place, as a partridg on the mountains ? You may remember who once went to Aichich the King of Gath, and; changed his behaviour before them, and fain'd him self mad in their hands, had many great infirmities, and was yet a man after God's own heart. Whilst the Catholick King was your allie, you had nothing to do with Papists, it was then no crime : God is not mocked — away with this respect of persons. But where is it that you would have him to be ? The Hollander dares not afford him harbour lest you refuse them yours; the French may not give him bread for feare of offending you ; and, unlesse he should go to the Indies, or the Turk (where yet your malice would undoubtedly reach him), where can he be safe from your revenge ? But suppose him in a Papist countrey, constrained thereto by your incharity to his soul as well as body ; would he have condescended to half so much as you have oflFered for a toleration of the Papists, he needed not now to have made use of this apology, or wanted the assistance of one of the most puissant Princes in Chris- tendome to restore him, of whom he has refused such conditions as in prudence he might have yielded to, and the people would gladly have received ; whilst those who know with what persons you have trans- acted, what truck you have made with the Jesuites, what secret Papists there are amongst you, may easily divine why they have been no for- warder to assist him, and how far distant he is from the least wavering 187 5 faith. But since you have now dieclared that you will toUerate all ons, without exception, do not think it a sin in him to gratifie those shall most ohlige him. r his vertues and morality I provoak the most refined family in this n to produce me a relation of more piety and moderation ; shew fraternity more spotlesse in their honour, and freer from the exor- ces of youth then these three brothers, so conspicuous to all the 1 for their temperance, magnanimity, constancy and understanding; nd«hip and humility unparallel'd, and rarely to be found amongst jverest persons, scarcely in a private family. It is the malice of a black soul, and a virulent renegado (^of whom to be commended the utmost infamy^, that has interpreted some compliances to I persons in distress are sometimes engaged with those whom they rse withall, to his Majesties disadvantage ; " whilst these filthy lers defile the flesh themselves, and thinkipg it no sin to despise lion, speak evill of dignities, and of the things which they know But woe unto them, for they have gone in the way of Kain, and reedily after the errour of Balaam for reward, having mens per- n admiration because of advantage." • the rest, I suppose the same was said of holy David, when in his m calamity he was constrain'd to fly from Saul, " For every one ^as in distresse, and every one that was in debt, and every one that iscontented, gathered themselves unto him, and he became Captain hem." And to this retinue have your malice and persecution re- this excellent Prince ; but he that preserv'd him in the wood, elivered David out of all his troubles, shall likewise, in his ap- d time, deliver him also out of these distresses. ive now answered all yOur calumnies, and have but a word to add, may yet incline you to acce|)t your best interest, and prevent that ul ruine which your obstinacy does threaten. Is it not as per- ns as the sun, that it lies in your power to reform his counsell, ace your selves, make what composition you can desire, have all :urity that mortall man can imagine, and the greatest Princes of e to engage in the performance? This were becoming worthy ihd honourable indeed ; this ingenuous self-denyall : and it is no 188 disgrace to reforme a mistake, but to persist in it lyes the shame. The whole nation requires it of you, and the lawes of God command it; you cannot, you must not deferr it. For what can you pretend to that will not then drop into your bosomes ? The humble man will have repose, the aspiring and ambitious, honours. The merchant will be secure ; trades immediately recover ; alliances will be confirmed ; the lawes re-flourish ; tender consciences consider'd ; present purchasers satisfied; the souldier payed, maintained, and provided for; and, what's above all this, Christianity and Charity will revive again amongst us; " Mercy and Truth will meet together ; Righteousness and Peace shall kiss each other." But let us now consider, on the other side, the confusion which must of necessity light upon us, if we persist in our rebellion and obstinacy. We are already impoverisht, and consumed with war and the miseries that attend it ; you have wasted our treasure, and destroyed the woods, spoyled the trade, and shaken our properties ; a universall animosity; is in the very bowels of the nation; the parent against the children, and.the children against the parents, betraying one another to the death ; in summe, if that have any truth which our B. Saviour has himself pronounced, that *' a kingdome divided against itself cannot stand," it is impossible we should subsist in the condition we are reduc'd to. Consider we again, how ridiculous our late proceedings have made us to our neighbours round about us. Their Ministers laugh at our extream giddinesse, and we seem to mock at their addresses ; for no sooner do their credentialls arrive but, behold, the scean is changed, and the Government is fled ; he that now acted King left a fool in his place ; and they stand amazed at our buffoonery and madnesse. What then, may we imagine, will be the product of all these disad- vantages, when the nations that deride and hate us shall be united for our destruction, and that the harvest is ripe for the sickle of their fury ? Shall we not certainly be a prey, to an inevitable ruine, having thus weakned our selves by a brutish civill war, and cut off those glorious heros, the wise and the valiant, whose courage in such an extremity we shall in vain imploar, that would bravely have sacrificed themselves for our delivery ? Let us remember how often we have served a forraign 189 people, and that there is nothing so confident but a provoaked God can overthrow. ■ For my part, I tremble but to consider what may be the issue of these things, when our iniquities are full, and that God shall make inquisition for thebloud that has been spilt; unlesse we suddainly meet him by an unfained repentance, and turn from all the abominations by which we have provoaked him ; and then, it is to be hoped that He who would have compounded with the Father of the Faithful 1, had there been but ten righteous men in Sodom, and that spared Nineveh, that populous and great city, will yet have mercy on us, hearken to the prayers, and have regard to the teares, of so many millions of people, who day and night do interceed with him: the priests and ministers of the Lord weeping between the porch and the altar, and saying, "spare thy people, O Lord, spare thy people, and give not thine inheritance to reproach." And now I have said what was upon my spirit for your sake, when, for the satisfaction of such as (through its effect upon your soule) this addresse of mine may possibly come to, I have religiously declared, that the person who writ it had no unworthy or sinister design of his own to gratifie, much lesse any other party whatever ; as being neither courtier, souldier, or churchman, but a plain country gentleman, engag'd on neither side, who has had leisure (through the goodnfesse of God} can- didly, and without passion, to examine the particulars which he has touched, and expects no other reward in the successe of it then what Christ has promised in the Gospell; the benediction of the peace maker, and which he already feeles in the discharge of his conscience ; being, for his own particular, long since resolv'd with himself to persist in his religion and his loyalty to the death, come what will ; as being fully perswaded, that all the persecutions, losses, and other accidents, which may arrive him for it here, are not worthy to be compared to that eternall weight of glory vi^hich is to be revealed hereafter, and to the inexpressible consolation which it will afford on his death bed, when all these guilded pleasures will disappear, this noise, and empty pompe ; when God shall set all our sins in order before us, and when, it is cer- tain, that the humble and the peaceable, the charitable and the meek, shall not lose their reward, nor change their hopes, for all the crownes 190 and the scepters, the lawrells and the trophies, which ambitious and self-seeking men contend for, with so much tyranie and injustice. Let them, therefore, no longer deceive you, dear Sir, and as the guise of these vile men is, to tell you they are the Godly party, under which, for the present, ihey would pass, and courage themselves in their wickedness, stopping their ears and shutting their eyes against all that has been taught and practised by the best of Christians, and holiest of Saints, these sixteen hundred years : *' you shall know them by their frultes ; do men gather grapes of thornes, or figs of thistles ?" But so, being miserably gall'd with the remembrance of their impieties, and the steps by which they have ascended to those fearfull precepices, they seek to allay the secret pangs of a gnawing worme, by adopting the most prodigious of their crimes into a religion fitted for the purpose, and versatile as their giddy interest, till at last, encourag'd by the number of thriving proselytes and successes, they grow seared and confident, swallowing all with ease, and passing from one heresie to another ; whilst yet they are still pursued, and shall never be at repose; for con- science will at last awake, and then how frightful, how deplorable, yea, how inexpressibly sad, will that day be unto them ! " For these things t^^ave they done, and I held my tongue (saith God), and they thought wickedly that I am altogether such a one as themselves ; but I will re- prove them, and set before them the things that they have done. Q consider this, ye that forget God, least he pluck you away, anid there be none to deliver you." And now. Sir, you see the liberty which I have taken, and how farr I have adventured to testifie a friendship which I have ever professed for you ; I have indeed been very bold, but it v- BiUt when all this shall fail (as God forbid a tittle of it should), I have yet this hope remaining : that when you. have been sufficiently sate4 with this wicked course, wandered from place to place, govern- ment to government, sect. to sect, in so universal a deluge, and find no repose for the sole of your foot (as it is certain you never shall), you will at last, with the peaceful dove, return to the arke from whence you fled, to your first principles and to sober counsels ; or with the re- penting Prodigall in the Gospel, to your Father which is in Heaven, and to the Father of your countrey, for in so doing you shall not only rejoice your servant, and all good men, but the very angels which are in Heaven, and who are never said to rejoice indeed, but at the con- version of a sinner. — JSt tu conversics, convertejratres. This 27 Octob. 1659. PSAL. 37. 10. Yet a little while, and the ungodly shall be clean gone, thou shalt look after his place, and he shall be away. 36. I my self have seen the ungodly in great. power, and flourishing like a green bay-tree. 37- I went by, and, lo ! he was gone ; I sought him, but his place could no where be found. 38. Keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right : for that shall bring a man peace at the last. 192 I request the Reader to take notice^ that when mentioning the Pres- byterians, I have let fall expressions somewhat relishing' of more then usual asperity.; I do. not by any means intend it to the prejudice of many of that judgment who were either men of peaceable spirits from the beginning, or that have late given testimony of the sense of their errour, whilst they were abused by those specious pretences I have re- proved; but I do regard them with as much charity and affection as becomes a sincere Christian and their brother. FINIS. THE LATE NEWS FROM BRUSSELS UNMASKED, AND HIS MAJESTY VINDICATED FBOM THE BASE CALUMNY AND SCANDAL THEREIN FIXED ON HIM. PRINTED IN THE YEAR 1660. 2c This extremely rare Tract, from the pen of Evelyn, requires no apology for its intro- duction in the present Volume. The false and virulent republican invective, to which it is a loyal and bold reply, is also inserted as a note, that the principles and ability of Evelyn may stand yet higher iu public estimation, when viewed in contrast with the coarseness and malignity of his adversary. At the time when this Letter was written, Evelyn was labouring under a severe illness, from 17th Feb. to ]5th April, 166O, attended by three physicians, who were doubtful of his recovery ; however, he says, in his Memoirs, " I writ and printed a Letter in defence of his Majesty, against a wicked forged paper, pretended to be sent from Bruxells, to defame his Majesty's person and vertues, and render him odious, now when every body was in hope and expectation of the General and Parliament recalling him, and establish- ing ye Government on its ancient and right basis." THE LATE NEWS FROM BRUSSELS UNMASKED. The last night came to my view a paper intituled, " News from Brussels, &c*." At the reading whereof I could not but in some measure be astonished, to imagine, that such exquisite malice should still have its continuance and prevalency amongst some people, against that person who should (if they duely considered their duties) be most dear, tender, and sacred to them ; such a vein I perceived there was of forged and fictitious stuff, put into a most malitlous dress of drollery, running through the whole tenor thereof, and snapping and biting all along as it went, in that sence, as might be sure most to fix calumny and slander upon that royal person whom it chiefly intended to wound, that I could not but contemplate thus with my self : Is it not enough that that innocent Piince, ever since his tender years, hath * " l^ems from Brussels. + In a Letter from a veer Attendant on His Majesties Person to a Person of Honour here; which casually became thus publique. Printed in the Year, 166O. 4to. " Honest Jack, Tliine, by T. L. our trae post-pigeon, and (I would I could not say) only expeditious person, was mine- before the morning; and our masters the sanae minute, who took no small delight therein : f This singular tract, having so immediate a reference to the foregoing piece, was one of the last efforts of the expiring Commonwealth interest. It is a sxipposed letter from the exiled Court of Charles to a Cavalier in London, which is calculated to press upon the key most likely to inter- rupt the general disposition in favour of the Restoration. It represents the temper of Charles and his little Court as exasperated by the long injuries they had sustained, and preparing them- selves to avenge them on the present opportunity. It is calculated also to excite the terrors of the Presbyterians, who were at this time anxious to co-operate in the Restoration, by representing the Cavaliers as equally profligate and unforgiving. But the purpose of this stratagem was counteracted by the public declarations of the leading royalists, that they reflected upon their past sufferings as coming from the hand of God, and entertained no thoughts of revenge against the immediate agents, but were satisfied to bury all past injuries in the joy of the happy restoration of the King, Laws, and Constitution. — scott. 196 been hunted like a partridge upon the mountains from place to place, from one nation to another people, robbed and spoyled of his large and ample patrimony and dominions, and forced to live (as it were) upon the alms and charity of his neighbour Princes, but his bright and shin- ing virtues, most manifest and apparent to the whole world, mus]t still be subject to the reproach and scandal of every lascivious, black, and sooty quill ? Wert thou a Christian (base forger), and not a foul fiend rather, clothed with humanity, methinks the consideration of this very particular, should draw tears from thine eyes, or rather blood from thine heart, then such cursed drops of mischievous malice, to issue from thy disloyal and corrupted brain. But if thou call to mind that trandscen- dently barbarous murder of his most glorious and martyred father, such as no age since Adam ever paralell'd ; and the deep stain of that sacred and royall blood (now crying under the altar), which fasten upon thee and thy therein guilty and bespotted soul (for it is more then guessed who thou art) ; what horrour and trembling should justly seize thy joints, and shake the scribling instrument of such thy traitorously invented mischief, out of thy loathed and bloody hands ? After which contemplation, I took a more strict and wary view of the particulars in that scandalous scrole ; and having observed what cunning subtility this forger had shewed, and what tools he had made use of to stamp and mint this false and counterfeit coyn, I resolved to publish it, which I am perswaded will not be ingratefuU to any, unless such who are of the forgers crew ; and of what sort and principles they are, it is well known. therein : for he read it thrice, and is resolved (and swore to boot) thou art the first shall kneel under his sacred sword. Sir C. C. has his heart, and at first view he thought of wafting thiiher, lest he should think his loyalty was slighted : but H. I. and I advised otherwise, and with some adoe diverted that intent, and got him to signifie his Royall pleasure in the inclosed ; which, instantly dispatch by Minyard way : F. H. has alwayes passage ready. Sir M. M. two hours after brought good news from his cold country ; but Calvin smells too rank for us to venture thither: they first betrayed his Royal Father, and after that his sacred self: nor are.our fortunes at that low ebb, to reimbarque our all in that old leaky bottom. Prithee perswade Sam to be silent, tell' him it is our master's pleasure. Thinkest thou none knows as well as he who first con- jured up this divel, and cursed them that would not curse and fight against His Majesty in Meroz name : yes, we can look through our fingers : this rebellion first bubbled up in Presbyterian pulpits, yet it's impoUitick to say so much : we also know tis more for fear of the phanatiques 197 Fii-st, he hath prepared a number of letters, which he would the reader think to intend the persons now about his Majesty, w names relate to them. But see, how in ipso lumine, he bewray own fictitious guilt; for this H. I. which he would have thoug be the L. lermain, this person was known to be elsewhere, far dii from Bruxels, at the time of. the date of that piece of forgery. It next place, it is observable, that before he had wrote five lines, he a notorious lie upon his Majesty, and chargeth him with swareinj thing it is most manifestly known he is so free from, that all his ai dants may be challenged to relate, if they can, whether ever heard a profane oath to come from him, much less used upon su ridiculous idle occasion as this forger mentions ; it being notorious he is, and ever hath been, so reserved in bestowing those ready je . of honour (the only treasure he is or can ,be unrob'd of), that i not any way probable he should squander one away for a letter, and likely that he should publickly say and swear this. Within a, lines after, he talks of his Majesties . resolution to waft over Ireland, for his S. C. C. he would have understood to be meant Charles Coot ; a very probable business as he relates it. Pray, which way should he waft (as you phrase it) ; it is a sign you 1 more skill in forgery than in geography, and the situation of pi and nations: Next he fains news to arrive but of Scotland,. whic the cold country he means ; but his two hours mentioned, smells rank of brass, that it renders it, at first scent, a perfect counter] and what must this news do ? only introduce an occasion to abuse , then for love to us, they are now so loyal : so also it is our, necessity,. not choice,, that naali court them. Hug them you cannot, hang at least until you can. Would Lall. had longer I hate to shew the teeth before we bite : we choak our dogs with crusts as well as pins j no will eat a pin alone : a blue ribbon and a starr we know will unbecome a rebel's shouldei fishes bite at baits; he is an asse that angles and hides not his hooks : how most unhappy : soveraign Lord, that the impatience of his friends should be as perillous to his fortunes i pikes of his enemies ; we never yet well minded our next work ; he's a fooU that thinks whe needle's in, the thread won't follow: set then your helping hand to this, let that alone ; pr( the cause, and 'tis impossible to separate the effect. But he comes in on terms, and is bouni Tush I remember that blessed line I marked in Machiavel ; he's an oafe that thinks an oal any tedder can tame a Prince beyond his pleasure j 2eruiah's sons lived to David's great di but 'twas but till he could kill them more conveniently: and prithee what did Shimei's pard< 198 slander his sacred Majesty, and render him odious to those of the Pres- byterian tenets, which indeed is the whole scope and tenor of this scurrulous doughty epistle, and to make some persons here think, that there is such a stock of rancour and malice, and such deep thoughts of revenge, harboured in the hearts and minds of all persons attending the King, and in his own Royal heart likewise, that whatever pre- tences and shews are at present made to the contrary, to compass their ends, yet the issues and eflFects of this malice and revenge shall in due time so appear and manifest itself, that there is not a man who hath shewed any opposition to him self or his late Royal father, but sooner or later shall feel their sad and direful stroke ; and this impress he hath so Machiavelianly, and with such art and cunning, besprinkled and scattered over the whole paper, and in such several subtle and wiley ways, and such seeming real phrases, proper for such persons, who he would fain to be the writer and receiver, that none but his grand tutor and instructer, the Divel himself (and scarce he neither), could possibly outdo him in some parts of this piece of artificial forgery. Others there be which clearly discover the rat bv his squeaking; but above all, that bold" and impudent lye, in representing that meeke and gentle Prince to have no need of spurs to revenge, but rather a rein to hold him in from it, Is such a piece of open and notoriously known fals- hood, that it is to be wondered at, that he should escape a dart from heaven, into his false and hollow sly heart, whilst he was staining the paper with that most mischievous, malicious expression, it being so known and manifest to all about him, that nothing hath ever been, or for him but planch him up : they can't abide to see his house a Round-head hive ; 'tis true, 'tis much that any can : are you yet to learn to make necessity a vertue ? who doubts but that C. Borgia did his businesse better, by lulling Vitelloz asleep, than to have hazarded all by the incer- tain chance of fortune : 'tis a romance to think revenge can sleep, but like a dog, to wake at will. "ris true, served we a Prince that needed spurs, this humour might be cherished ; but alas, we ra- ther use all the art and arguments we can to rein him in ; hadst thou but seen his passion when M's. Pedigree came over, thou wouldest have said he had steel enough. . . . Seal Rob. lips, I Pray thee, for fear it may disserve him at dinner ; 'twas, and in some degree is, too publique. There need no record for a rival ; yet is it laid (by strict command) next Murrye's manuscript, and will one day be reviewed ; till then Plantaginet's in pickle. But I'le retain our (most absolutely necessaiy) discourse for thy farther satisfaction : canst fancy, that our master can forget he had a father how he liv'd and died, how he lost both crown and life, and who the cause thereof? never. 199 is more frequent with him, in his ordinary converse then to express his firm and constant resolution to adhere close to the advertisement of his Royal martyred Father, who, inter voces extremas (as it were) left a preceptory advice to the contrary. Of such sort likewise, is this Pasquil of the Pedigree he mentions ; false fictions of a son of Belial, which will remain in pickle to arise up against this forger at a tribu- nal, where the oflFspring of a Plantagenet, whose most innocent blood he hath sucked, will bring in a record beyond Murryes manuscript, which will fright his guilty soul down to that place of horrour pre- pared for him and his fellow Regicides, his pin, crust, and dog, dam, and kittlings, and the concealed nuntio and all that sort of senigmatical and ribbald (yet very significant and malitious) drollery; what is it but the filthy foam of a black and hellish mouth, arising from a viperous and venemous heart, industriously and maliciously set upon doing what cursed mischief lies within the sphere of his cashiered power, in such a conjecture of time as this, when the nations hopes are in a full and just expectation of receiving a perfect cure of those bleeding deep wounds, and wastful and consuming miseries, made and continued by him and his fellow plotters, which they have so long lay panting and groaning under? The star and blew ribbon he speaks of, will be every way as fit for the shoulder which hath given him and his party such a shove, and as deservedly as a hempen halter will be for this forgers own neck : and 'tis very possible, and probable too, they may both take their difficult eflfects in due time, though we see what art is used to thrust that monarch yet had a memory halfe su bad : ne'r fear't, there's fire enough in his father's ashes (though yet invisible) to bum up every adversary ; only our clamourous impatience would have all at once : give time, he ascends most safe that does't gradatim; overstraining not onely spends the strength too feist, but does endanger falling more : remember our dread leige Lord (if ever guilty of an error) miscarried here j from what a hope fell he and we, for want of following S, S. advice : all or none's a game not for a Prince to play, but a desperado, whose fortunes rise and set with every sun. The Presbyter will give up the phanatique, a handsome bone to pick at first : I like it better far than all at once ; excess brings surfeits : thus half the beard they shave them- selves, let us alone with t'other : drown first the kittlings, let the dam that litter'd them alone a little longer. They glory they are orthodox ; hear, and hold still thy head, let us alone to find out fresh pbanatiques. We know the sectaries had a sire, and whose spurious brood they are; even as the Puritan was the off-set of the Protestant. Spain's attach, revive as oft as well thou 200 shoulder from its due merit by such the forger subtilties. The romance of his Waldense Dulmano, byting the lip with all the dependent sequel of such a parcel of montebanquery, that it confutes itself in its own relation ; as also other his so openly known falsities, insinuated by bits in a subtle way of seeming drollery, but very saw-tpoth'd in its sense and signification ; and the aim of all is, to catch the common and vulgar apprehensions, and draw them again into, such amaze and delusion, as they may yet once more (if possible) fall under the worry- ing power of him, and such like ravenous beasts of blood, prey, and rapine. Sir, your nets are seen, and your fallacies fail you ; the hooks you mention are laid too visibly ; the fish you would catch are so far from swallowing, they will not bite at all ; you were best therefore go shave your own beard, as you have those in your letter, and your scull too ; and if your brain prove not thence more pregnant, 'twill serve (however) to stufFe your powch instead of what such your angels were intended to have holpen you- to ; and I would wish you also to take this advice from a friend ; give over your angling this way, and appear no more in publick at the side of this pool, lest you be tumbled in overhead and ears, and your self become both the bait and prey of those you thus endeavour to catch and delude by such your drolling subtleties. And now, having done with your forged calumnies, I shall upon this just occasion desire leave to tell you, and those whom they were intended to beguile and work upon, that the Prince and Soveraigne (whom it is so apparent your grand aim by this designe was to wound, though through the fictitious sides of others set up in your own fancy), canst J 'tis a good blindj and propagates our masters interest. Wat came since my last, and will not let our Lord alone, till he sees a lecture up in Court, and Chaplins preach before him, X)rdained by the Presbytery : and one Waldense is come already. O Jesu, Jack ! I want an iron hoop to kfeep my sides from splitting, to see my poor Prince bite his lips for-halfe an hour long, while that Dulmano begs a blessing (as he calls it) as our meech-beggars do their bacon at the farmers doors. G. got behind him yesterday and made mouths, which the puppy by an unhappy turn of his head perceived ; but his Majesty, seeing all, prudently anticipated his complaint, and with Royal gravity, not only rebuked G. but immediantly dismissed him his service. We all made application to the parson to mediate to our master for G. his restoration, which he did : and after much intreaty, his request was granted ; but not for G. his sake, but for his, and but on future good behaviour neither. M. H. and J. were in the presence at night; but I thought we should have split our spleens a laughing : but by these means all was healed : and 201 IS one to whom both- you and they owe a duty and allegiance, by all the laws of God, nature, and the land. And however you for your part have a minde to forget, and are not pleased to own it, it is (however) not the lesse his due : and it is not altogether impossible, but upon better and due consideration of the horrid guilt you lye under, divine grace may hereafter be so infused into you, and you thereby be made so sensible of your crime, that perhaps you may yet cheerfully return to such your bounden duty, and by your future demeanour wash oflF those stains wherewith your guilty soul is now so deeply bespotted : which that you may the more readily do,- 1 shall truly, and as know- ingly as I believe it is possible for any in this nation, give you.thjs just and due character of that most virtuous and excellent Prince, whom (whatever your thoughts are now) it is possible you may one day esteem it your chief honour to style your dear and dread Lord and Soveraigne ; which is truly such, that in the opinion of very many wise and knowing men, it would put the whole Christian world upon some difficulty to find his parallel or equal in all respects. His birth and extraction is known to be so transcendently illustrious, that what Prince is there upon earth that can challenge a greater or more noble and kingly, and for longer continuance, for centuries of years; his person so lovely, amiable and graceful, that it even captivates the eyes of all beholders, and every where generates a noble and generous affection, respect, and clemency, from the ohiefest enemies of his ances- tors, and of our nation and dominions. His parts and endowments such,- that were we free from subjection to him, by all laws, and to make search throughout all nations and people for a complete and well accomplished personage to rule over us, common fame and report could ■henceforward' we are commanded to be plaguy-godly. H. bid me hand his service to thee ; be swears he hath horned 1& cuckolds within these 14 dayes. Mind the miUtiamost, talk not of dis- banding J one pin naturally drives out another. A. B. at parting swore he would see that execra- ble exit raced out ; whom to assist he may not suffer. Let Th. continue his caresses, and bid him not continue such coarse jokes any more. D, F, C, and . . . court upon all occasions. If M, M, and . . . stand right, we ask no more, city, land, and sea is our own : that reformation likes us- rarely well, thougii we wonder he would hazard all upon such a rash adventure. Bid Phil, and's brother both be close, they now may list and none the wiser : we dared not let the Nuntio see the sun. We hope our friends droop still, and curse him whom most they covet.— Let not thy lady, 2d 202 not but send us to him; so meek, gentle, and sweet of behaviour; so firm, constant, and obliging in his friendships ; so milde, modest, and patient in his afflictions and suflferings ; yet upon occasion so full of princely courage and magnanimity, so knowing and discerning in his reason and judgement, and by his retirement so fitted and adapted for moderate government. But above all, so firmly and irremoveably fixed to the profession of the true Protestant religion, testifyed many wayes against the cunning arts and subtle attempts and allurements of the most inveterate enemies thereof, that it is an infamy, never to be washed off from this nation (unless the now general vote and desire thereof be hearkened to and take effect in such manner as may in some sort purge the same), that such a Prince as he, so qualified in all respects, and so innocent likewise as to the first cause of difference, and ever since, also saving his desire, and pursuance of his just and undoubted birth-right; a thing which the meanest of us would be condemned for by all, even by our very selves, should we omit, or be negligent of, were it but for a poor cottage ; I say that such a Prince as he, together with his illustrious, heroick, and high-born brethren, (all of them, even in this their eclipsed obscurity, the renown and glory of our nation,) should (as is hinted before) be chased from such an ample and splendid patrimony, and large dominions, and that by his own native subjects, and liege people, and suffered to wander, nay, by their means hunted from place to place, from one nation (as is premised) to another people, and forced to live upon the almes and charity (as it know our Italian tye, the devil can't track us if we three keep pur tongue within our teeth. Fret not, nor afflict thyself nor friend, for we resolve the rogues that left the Rump shall feel the scourge that loyal hearts lash rebels with, as well as others ; a Roundhead is a Roundhead j black and white devils all alike to us. — Thinkest thou that we can breath in peace, while we see a little finger left alive that hath been dipt in royal blood ? or his adherents ? No ! a thought of mercy more hate- ful is than hell ; but cooks may be conquerors, and a plate perform equal execution with a pistol, and with less report. Be quiet then, let's use all art to make them take the halter tamely, Press the speedy raising of the City reginients.^And out the rogue at stern : what folly is't to think we can safely ferry while the fleet's phanatique ? This done, let our cause miscarry if it can, Maz. met Wat, and gave him sound advice. — Get arms, but buy them not in such suspicious numbers • that if all fails, we may repair to them, and cut our passage to the throne through traitors blood. .— Farwel. Brussels, S. V. March 10, 1659. gas ■were) of those who doubtlesse are not without their grand desigji^ upon him and all hi» dominions, as (it may be feared) iime will sooner or later clearly manifest; besides the subjecting him, and that whole royal race, by this means, to the enticements and allurements, and to the stratagems, nets, and entanglements of those Eomish rooking gamesters, who are ranging in all parts for their prey, and will be sure "to leave no stone unmoved to work their wicked ends, where such a tjuarry of royal game are to be flown at, and with such advantage (as the case stands with them) to be attempted; that the very contempla- tion thereof cannot, me thinks, but draw tears from the eyes, and almost blood from the hearts of all pious, loyal Protestant Christians, who have any sence and feeling, as they ought, of that deep dishonour and reproach, which by these very meanes must need$ redound to the pro- fessors of the true Protestant religion, in all parts and places whatso- ever, and no lesse sport and pastime to the great vicar general at Rome, and his court and conclave ; but as in the ground where gold grows, nothing (it is said) will thrive but gold, so God hath hitherto preserved this virtuous Prince, most firm, sound, and entire, in the true orthodox faith, and no doubt but will so continue him,« and make him not only in title, but really and indeed a most magnanimous de- fender thereof, against all its adversaries. And whereas there is either a real or seeming fear in some sort of guilty people (and thereby the desired settlement much disturbed and retarded), that if the old Government take place againe, and the right Pilot come at the head and stern thereof, that there will be such rankor, malice, and revenge put in practice, by the all along adherers to the Royal interest, against such as any time opposed them ; and thereby such losse, dammage, and suflferings sustained, with divers other vain and empty fears, jealousies, and conjectures. Now, as the true cha- racter of his sacred Majesty himselfe is before very faithfully expressed, so surely it will not seem incongruous and impertinent upon this just occasion likewise, to interpose this sincere and unfeigned protestation, on the behalfe of those adherers to the Royal interest, that as their principles are truly Christian, so they most earnestly desire to pursue 204 the due practice of them accordingly. And whatsoever is forged in that maUcious piece, before at large spoken of that loyal party, espe- cially the main bulk and body of them (who are only considerable in this case, and extravagants and not to be regarded),, are so far from any thoughts of rankor, malice, and revenge in that particular, or any aime of making good their losses by the estates of others (a usual vogue raised by our peace-opposers), that they do as fully and unfainedly for- give them, and all sorts of them, as they desire of Heaven the forgive- nesse of their own transgressions ; and do so far detest the thought of repairing their losses, that way feared, that to see his Majesty restpred, and thereby a firm and lasting peace settled, that so it may be conveyed to posterity, they would not only very cheerfully sit down by all their losses and sufferings, but many thousands of them willingly sacrifice much of their present fortunes, and some of; them their lives too, as a grateful offertory for such a seasonable and all-healing mercy. F U M I F U G I U M : OR THE INCONVENIENCIE OF THE AER AND SMOAK OF LONDON DISSIPATED. TOGETHER WITH SOME REMEDIES HUMBLY PROPOSED By J. E. Esq. TO HIS SACRED MAJESTY, AND TO THE PARLIAMENT NOW ASSEMBLED. PUBLISHED BY HIS MAJESTIES COMMAND. Carbondmque gravis vis, atcjue odor insinuatur Quam facile in cerebrum ! Lucret. 1. 5, LON^DO N: PKINTET) BY W. GODBID, FOR GABRIEL BEDEL AND THOMAS COLLINS, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT THEIR SHOP AT THE MIDDLE TEMPLE GATE, NEBR TEMPLE-BAK. M. DC.LXI. TO THE KINGS MOST SACRED MAJESTY*. Sir, It was one day, as I was walking in your Majesties palace at White- hall (where I have sometimes the honour to refresh my self with the sight of your illustrious presence, which is the joy of your peoples hearts) that a presumptuous smoake issuing from one or two tunnels neer Northumberland-house, and not far from Scotland-yard, did so invade the court, that all the rooms, galleriesj and places about it were fiU'd and infested with it ; and that to such a degree, as men could hardly discern one another for the clowd, and none could support, without manifest inconveniency. It was not this which did first sug- gest to me what I had long since conceived against this pernicious accident, upon frequent observation ; but it was this alone, and the trouble that it must needs procure to your sacred Majesty, as well as hazard to your health, which kindled this indignation of mine against it, and was the occasion of what it has produc'd in these papers. Your Majesty, who is a lover of noble buildings, gardens, pictures, and all royal magnificences, must needs desire to be freed from this * 13th Sept. 1661. " I presented my Fumifugium, dedicated to his Maty, who was pleased I should publish it by his special commands, being much pleas'd with it". — Memoirs, vol. I. p. 326. 1 Oct. 1661. During a sailing match from Greenwich to Gravesend and back, between the two yatchts belonging to the King and the Duke of York, for a wager of lOOZ. 3t which his Ma- jesty was present, attended by Mr. Evelyn and divers noble persons; the King, says he, " was pleas'd to discourse to me about my book, inveighing against the nuisance of the smoke of I^on- don, and proposing expedients how by removing those particulars I mentioned, it might be re- formed : commanding me to prepare a Bill against the next Session of Parliament, being, as he said, resolv'd to have something don in it." — Idem, vol. I. p. 327. 208 prodigious annoyance ; and, which is so great an enemy to their lustre and beauty, that where it once enters there can nothing remain long in its native splendor and perfection : nor must I here forget that illus- trious and divine Princesse, your Majesties only sister, the now Dutchesse of Orleans, who at her highnesse late being in this city, did in my hearing, complaiq, of the effects of this smoake both in her breast and lungs, whilst she was in your Majesties palace. I cannot but greatly apprehend, that your Majesty (who has been so long accustom'd to the excellent aer of other countries) may be as much offended at it, in that regard also ; especially since the evil is so epidemicall ; indangering as well the health of your subjects, as it sullies the glory of this your imperial seat. i Sir, 1 prepare in this short discourse, an expedient how this perni- cious nuisance may be reformed ; and offer at another also, by which the aer may not only be freed from the present inconveniency, but (that remov'd) to render not only your Majesties palace, but the whole city likewise, one of the sweetest and most delicious habitations in the world ; and this, with little or no expence ; but by improving those plantations which your Majesty so laudably affects, in the moyst de- pressed, and marshy grounds about the town, to the culture and pro- duction of such things, as upon every gentle emission through the aer, should so perfume the adjacent places with their breath, as if, by a certain charm, or innocent magick, they were transferred to that part of Arabia, which is therefore styl'd the Happy, because it is amongst the gums and precious spices. Those who take notice of the scent of the orange-flowers from the rivage of Genoa, and St. Pietro dell' Arena; the blossomes of the rosemary from the Coasts of Spain, many leagues off at sea; or the manifest, and odoriferous wafts which flow from Fontenay and Vaugirard, even to Paris in the season of roses, with the contrary effects of those less pleasing smells from other accidents, will easily consent to what I suggest : and, I am able to enumerate a cata- logue of native plants, and such as are familiar to our country and clime, whose redolent and agreeable emissions would even ravish our senses, as well as perfectly improve and meliorate the aer about Lon- don ; and that, without the least prejudice to the owners and proprietors 209 of the land to be employ'd about it. But because I have treated of this more at large in another curious and noble subject *, which I am pre- paring to present to your Majesty, as God shall afford me leasure to finish it, and that I give a touch of it in this discourse, I will enlarge my addresses no farther, then to beg pardon for this presumption of Sir, Your Majesties ever loyal, most obedient Subject, and Servant. J. Evelyn. TO THE READER. I HAVE little here to add to implore thy good opinion and approba- tion, after I have submitted this Essay to his Sacred Majesty : but as it is of universal benefit that I propound it ; so I expect a civil enter- tainment and reception. I have, I confesse, been frequently displeased at the small advance and improvement of Public Works in this nation, wherein it seems to be much inferiour to the countries and kingdomes which are round about it ; especially, during these late years of our sad confusions : but now that God has miraculously restor'd to us our prince, a prince of so magnanimous and publick a spirit, we may promise our selves not only a recovery of our former splender; but also whatever any of our neighbours enjoy of more universal benefit, for health or ornament : in summe, whatever may do honour to a nation so perfectly Capable of all advantages. It is in order to this, that I have presumed to ofier these few propo- sals for the meliorating and refining the Aer of London ; being ex- * Sylva and Terra. 2e 210 tremely amaz'd, that where there is so great an affluence of all thi which may render the people of this vast city the most happy u earthj the sordid and accursed avarice of some few particular pers( should be suffered to prejudice the health and felicity of so many : i any .profit (besides what is of absolute necessity) should render r regardlesse of what chiefly imports them, when it may be purchs upon so easie conditions, and with so great advantages : for it is happiness to possesse gold, but to enjoy the effects of it, and to kr how to live cheerfully and in health, non est vivere, sed valere v That men whose very being is Aer, should not breath it freely wl they may J but (as that tyrant us'd his vassals) condemn themselvei this misery §• fumo prcefacari, is strange stupidity : yet thus we them walk and converse in London, pursu'd and haunted by that fernal smoake, and the funest accidents which accompany it where ever they retire. That this glorious and antient city, which from wood might rendred brick, and (like another Rome) from brick made stone J marble ; which commands the proud ocean to the Indies, and reac to the farthest Antipodes, should wrap her stately head in clowds smoake and sulphur, so full of stink and darknesse, I deplore with j indignation. That the buildings should be compos'd of such a cong tion of mishapen and extravagant houses ; that the streets should be narrow and incommodious in the very center and busiest places of tercourse ; that there should be so ill and uneasie a form of pav under foot, so troublesome and malicious a disposure of the spouts i gutters overhead, are particulars worthy of reproof and reformatic because it is hereby rendred a labyrinth in its principal passages, an continual wet-day after the storm is over. Add to this the deformity so frequent wharfes and magazines of wood, coale, boards, and ot course materials, most of them imploying the places of the nob] aspect for the situation of palaces towards the goodly river, when tl might with far lesse disgrace be removed to the Bank-side, and aft wards disposed with as much facility where the consumption of th commodities lyes; a Key in the mean time so contrived on London-side might render it lesse sensible of the reciprocation of the waters, for i 211 and health infinitely superiour to what it now enjoys. These are the desiderata which this great city labours under, and which we so much deplore. But I see the dawning of a brighter day approach ; we have a prince who is resolv'd to be a father to his country ; and a Parliament whose decrees and resentiments take their impression from his Majesties great genius, which studies only the publick good. It is from them, therefore, that we augure our future happinesse j since there is nothing which will so much perpetuate their memories, or more justly merit it. Medails and inscriptions have heretofore preserv'd the fame of lesse publick benefits, and for the repairing of a dilapidated bridge, a decaid aquaeduct, the paving of a way, or draining a foggy marsh, their elo- gies and reverses have out-lasted the tnarbles, and been transmitted to future ages, after so many thousand revolutions : but this is the least of that which we decree to our august Charles, and which is due to his illustrious senators ; because they will live in our hearts, and in our records, which are more permanent and lasting. 1 May, 1661. Farewell. 212 PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF THIS TRACT, REPRINTED FOR B. WHITE, IN FLEET STREET, 1772. The established reputation of Mr. Evelyn's writings would have prevented the Editor of this very scarce Tract from adding any thing himself, had not time made some alterations that appear worthy of notice. Our Author expresses himself with proper warmth and indignation against the absurd policy of allowing brewers, dyers, soap-boilers, and lime-burners, to intermix their noisome works amongst the dwelling- houses in the city and suburbs : but since his time we have a great in- crease of glass-houses, founderies, and sugar-bakers, to add to the black catalogue,: at the head of which must be placed the fire-engines of the water- works at London Bridge and York Buildings, which (^whilst they are working) leave the astonished spectator at a loss to determine whether they do not tend to poison and destroy more of the inhabitants by their smoke and stench than they supply with their water. Our author also complains that the gardens about London would no longer bear fruit, and gives instances of orchards in Barbican and the Strand that were observed to have a good crop the year in which Newcastle was besieged (^1644), because but a small quantity of coals were brought to London that year : by this we may observe how much the evil is in- creased since the time this treatise was written. It would now puzzle the most skilful gardener to keep fruit trees alive in these places : the complaint at this time would be, not that the trees were without fruit, but that they' would not bear even leaves. Although the proposal of turning all the noxious trades at once out of town may be thought impracticable, as being inconsistent with the general liberty of the subject ; yet certainly some very beneficial regula- tions lie within the power of the present public-spirited and active magis- trates, to whom, with deference, the editor submits the following hints. 213 Till more efiPectual methods can take place, it would be of great ser- vice to oblige all those trades, who make use of large fires, to carry their chimnies much higher into the air than they are at present; this expe- dient would frequently help to convey the smoke away above the build- ings, and in a great measure disperse it into distant parts, without its falling on the houses below. Workmen should be consulted, and encouraged to make experiments, whether a particular construction of the chimnies would not assist in conveying off the smoke, and in sending it higher into the air before it is dispersed. A method of charring sea-coal, so as to divest it of its smoke, and yet leave it serviceable for many purposes, should be made the object of a very strict enquiry ; and premiums should be given to those that were successful in it. Proper indulgences might be made to sucb sugar, glass, brewhouses, &c. as should be built at the desired distance from town : and the building of more within the city and suburbs prevented by law. This method vigorously persisted in, would in time remove them all. The discernment and good sense of the present times are loudly called on to abolish the strange custom of laying the dead to rot amongst the living, by burying in churches and church-yards within the town : this practice has not escaped our author's censure :-and foreigners have often exposed the absurdity of the proceeding. But it seems to be left parti- cularly to the magistracy and citizens of London, to set an example to the rest of this kingdom and to Europe, by removing a nuisance which ignorance and superstition have entailed on us hitherto ; and which, amongst those that are not well acquainted with our religion, brings a disgrace on Christianity itself. It will be a work of little shew or ostentation, but the benefits arising from it will be very extensive and considerable : in both respects it recommends itself in a particular man- ner to an opulent and free people*. * Amongst the remains of old Rome, the grandeur of the Commonwealth shews itself chiefly in works that are either necessary or convenient : on the contrarjr, the magnificence of Rome, under the Emperors, is seen principally in such works as are rather for ostentation or luxury, than, any real usefulness or necessity. — Addison. 214 To confirm what our author has urged against the air of Lond reader is desired to take a view of the Bills of Mortality, and t culations made from them; and he will find that there is a w near ten thousand people, who are drawn every year from the < to supply the room of those that London destroys beyond what ii Indeed the supply that the town furnishes towards keeping up i inhabitants appeared so very small to the ablest calculator and vc tional enquirer (Corbyn Morris) into this subject, that he owns afraid to publish the result. But, without the use of calculations, it is evident to every oi looks on the yearly Bill of Mortality, ' that near half the childn are born and bred in Uondon die under two years of age. Som attributed this amazing destruction to luxury and spirituous Hqu these, no doubt, are powerful assistants : but the constant and mitting poison is communicated by the foul air, which, as the "tov grows larger, has made regular and steady advances in its fa fluence. " The ancient Greeks and Romans, even in their greatest state finement, were reconciled by habit to the custom of exposing ai stroying young children, when parents did not choose to support the same practice is familiar among the Chinese at this day. We der and are shocked at the barbarity of it, but at the same tii accustomed to read with great composure of the deaths of thousa infants suffocated every year by smoke arid stenches, which goi licy might in a great measure remove. Our author, who had been very instrumental in restoring Cha his throne, was unfortunate in recommending a work of such i quence to so negligent and dissipated a patron. The editor is e raged by a more promising appearance of success. He has seei pleasure many improvements of great importance to the eleganc welfare of this city undertaken and completed in a short time, Magistrates of less public spirit and perseverance than our pr would have pronounced them to have been impracticable. London, March 16, 1772. 215 FUMIFUGIUM*: THE INCONVENIENCY OF THE SMOAK OP LONDON DISSIPATED, &C. PART I. It is not without some considerable analogy, that sundry of the philpsophers have nam'd the Aer the vehicle of the soulf, as well as that of the earth, and, this frail vessell of ours which contains it; since we all of us finde the benefit which we derive from it, not onely for the necessity of common respiration and functions of the organs; but likewise for the use of the spirits and primigene humors, which doe most neerly approach that divine particle. But we shall not need to insist, or refine much on this sublime subject ; and, perhaps it miglit scandalize scrupulous persons to pursue to the height it may possibly reach (as Diogenes and Anaximenes were wont to deifie it) after we are past the ^therial, which is a certain aer of Plato's denomi- nation J, as well as that of the lesse pure, more turbulent and dense, which, for the most part we live and breathe in, and which comes here to be examin'd as it relates to the design in hand, the City of London, and the environs about it. It would doubtlesse be esteem'd for a strange and extravagant para^ dox, that one should affirme, that the Aer it selfe is many times a potent and great disposer to rebellion ; and that insulary people^ and indeed, most of the Septentrion Tracts, where this medium is grosse and heavy, are extremely versatile and obnoxious to change both in religious and * The reader is referred to an excellent analysis of this Tract in the Journal of Science, Litera- ture and the Arts. Vol. xii. 1822, pp. 343. t Anima, quasi dve/xos. + In Timaeo. 216 secular affaires : plant the foote of your compasses on the very pole, and extend the other limb to 50 degrees of latitude : bring it about 'till it describe the circle, and then reade the histories of those nations inclusively and make the calculation. It must be confess'd, that the aer of those climates, is not so pure and defecate as those which are neerer the tropicks, where the continent is lesse ragged, and the weather more constant and steady, as well as the inclination and temper of the inhabitants. But it is not here that I pretend to speculate upon these causes, or nicely to examine the discourses of the Stoicks and Peripateticks, whether the aer be in it self generally cold, humid, warm, or exactly temper'd so as best conduces to a materiall principle, of which it is accounted one of the four ; because they are altogether physicall notions, and do not come under our cognizance as a pure and sincere elemeht ; but as it is particularly inquinated, infected, participating of the various accidents, and inform'd by extrinsical causes, which render it noxious to the inhabitants, who derive and make use of it for life. Neverthe- lesse, for distinction sake, we may yet be allow'd to repute some aers pute, comparatively, viz. that which is cleare, open, sweetely ventilated, and put into motion with gentle gales and breezes ; not too sharp, but of a temperate constitution. In a word, that we pronounce for good and pure aer, which heat not to sweat and faintnesse ; nor cooles to rigid- nesse and trembling ; nor dries to wrinkles and hardhesse ; nor moystens to resolution and over much softnesse. The more hot promotes indeede the witt, but is weak and trifling; and therefore Hippocrates* speaks the Asiatique people imbelles and effeminate, though of a more arti- ficial and ingenious spirit. If over cold and keen, it too much abates the heat, but renders the body robust and hardy ; as those who are born under the northern bears, are more fierce and stupid, caused by a certain internal antlperistasis and universal Im pulsion -f-. The drier aer is generally the more salutary and healthy, so it be not too sweltery and infested with heat or fuliginous vapours, which is by no means a * Lib. de Aere, Aqu. et Locis. -j- That is, the heat of their bodies is condensed and exercised by the coldness of the atmosphere that surrounds them. 21f friend to health and longaBvjty, as Avicen notes of the -ffithiops who- seldome arived to any considerable old age. As much to be reproved is the moyst, viz. that which is over mix'd with aquous exhalations, equally pernicious and susciptible of putrefaction; notwithstanding does it oftner produce faire and tender skins, and some last a long while in it ; but commonly not so healthy as in Aer which is more dry. But the impure and uliginous, as that which pi^oceedes from stagnated places, is of all other, the most vile and pestilent. Now, that through all these diversities of Aer, motes hominum Ao corporis temperamentum sequi, is for the greater part so true an obser- vation, that a volume of instances might be produced, if the common notices did not sufiSciently confirme it even to a proverb* The Aer on which we continually prey, perpetually inspiring matter to the animall and vitall spirits, by which they become more or lesse obfuscated, clowded, and rendered obnoxious ; and therefore that prince of phy- sitians Hippocrates, wittily calls a sincere and pure Aer " the internunce and interpreter of prudence *." The celestiall influences being so much retarded or assisted, and improv'd through this omnipresent, and, as it were, universal medium : for, though the Aer in its simple substance cannot be vitiated; yet, in it«> prime qualities it suffers these infinite mutations, both from superiour and inferiour causes, so as its accidentall effects become almost innumerable, . , Let it be farther consider'd, what is most evident, that the, body feedes upon meats commonly but at certain periods and stated times, be it twice a day or oftner ; whereas, upon the Aer, or what accompanies it Cest enim in ipso jlere occultus vitcs cibusj, it is allwaies preying, sleeping or waking; and therefore, doubtlesse the election of this con- stant and assiduous food, should something concefne us, I affirme, more then even the very meat we eat, whereof, so little and indifferent nourishes and satisfies the most temperate and best educated perspns. Besides, Aer that is corrupt insinuates it self into the vital parts imme-p diately; whereas the meats which we take, though never so ill con* dition'd, require time for the concoction, by which its effects are greatly * De Morbo Sacro. 2f 218 mitigated ; whereas the othey, passing so speedily to the lungs, and virtually to the heart it self, is deriv'd and communicated over the whole masse ; in a word, as the lucid and noble Aer, clarifies the hlood^i subtilizes and excites it, cheering the spirits and promoting digestion ; so the dark and grosse (on the contrary) perturbs the body, prohibits rtecessary transpiration for the resolution and dissipation of ill vapours, even to disturbance of the very rational faculties^ which the purer Aer does so far illuminate, as to have rendred some men healthy and wise even to a miracle. And therefore the empoysonjng of Aer was ever esteem'd no lesse fatall then the poysoning.of water or meate it self, and forborn even amongst barbarians; since (as is said) such, infections become more apt to insinuate themselves, and betray the very; spirits, to which they have so neer a cognation. Some Aers we know are held to be alexipharmac, and even deleterious ito poy son it, self, as 'tis re- ported of that of Ireland. In some we finde carcasses will hardly putrifie, in others again rot and fall to pieces immediately. ! From these or the like considerations therefore, it might well proceed j that Vitruvius, and the rest who follow that master Builder*, mention it as a principle, for the accomplishment of their Architect, that being skilfull in the art of Physick, amongst iotherr observations, he sedulously examined the Aer and situation of the places where he designs to -build,: the inclinations of the heavens, and the climats ; Sine his enim ratio- nibus nulla saluhris habitatio fieri potest-f : there is no dwelling can be safe or healthy without it, 'Tis true, he does likewise adde Water also, which is but a kinde of condensed Aer ; though he might have observ'd that element to be seldome bad, where the other is good; omitting ortely some peculiar fountains and mineral waters, which are percolated through mines and metalique earths less frequent, and very rarely to be encounter'd. j,y Now whether those who were the antient founders of our goodly metron polis, had considered these particulars (though long before Vitruvius) I can no waies doubt or make question of; since, having respect to the nobleness of the situation of London, we shall: every way finde it to * Lib. I. cap. 1. f Aeres Locorum. 219 -Jiave been consulted with all imaginable advantages, not onely in rela- tion to profit, but to health and 1 pleasure ;^ and that, if there be any thing which seems to- impeach .the two- last transcendencies, it will be found to be but something extrinsecal and accidental onely, which naturally does not concern the place at all ; hut which may very easily be reformed, without any the least inconvenience, as in due time we shaiU come to demonstrate. ru>:;g,*j|> For first, the City of London is built upon a sweet and most agreer able eminency of ground, at the North-side of a goodly and well-con- dition'd river, towards which it hath an, aspect by a gentle and easie declivity, apt to be improved to all that may render her palaces, build- ings, and avenues usefully gracefull, and: most maignificent : the fumes which exhale from the waters and lower grounds lying South-ward, by which means they are perpetually attracted, C;arried off, or dissipated by the sun, as soon as they are born and ascend. , v Adde to this, that the soil is universally, gravell, pot , onely where the City it self is placed: but for severaU miles about the ■ countreys which environ it : that it is plentifully and richly irrigated, and visited with waters which christalize her fountains in every street, and may, be conducted to them in such farther plenty, as Rome her self might not more abound in this liquid- ornament, for the pleasure and divertise- ment, as well as for the use and refreshment of her. inhabitants. I for- bear to enlarge upon the rest of the conveniencies which this august and opulent City enjoies both by sea and land, to accumulaJte h,er encomi- ums, and render her the most considerable; that the earth has standing upon her ample bosome; because, it belongs to the Orator and, the Poet, and is none of my institution : but I will infer, that if this goodly City justly challenges what is her due, and merits all that can be said to reinforce her praises, and give her title ; she is to be jeliev'd. from that which renders her less healthy, really offends her, and which darkens and eclipses all her other attributes. And what is all tbisi.but that hellish and dismall cloud of Sea-coal? which is not only perpetu- ally imminent over her head, for as the Poet, Conditur in tenebris altum caligine Coelum *, * iEneid. 11. 220 universally mixed with the otherwise wholsome and excellent Aer, her inhabitants breathe nothing but an impure and thick mist, accom- ed with a fuliginous and filthy vapour, which renders them obnoxious thousand inconveniences, corrupting the lungs, and disordering the e habits of their bodies ; so that cathars,. phthisicks, coughs and umptionsrage more in this one'City than in the whole earth besides, shall not here much descant upon the nature of smoaks, and other lations from things burnt, which have obtain'd. their severall letes, according to the quality of the matter consumed, because are generally accounted noxious and unwholsome, and I would have it thought, that I doe here fumos vendere, as the word is, or paper with insignificant remarks : it was yet haply no inept deri- >n of that critick, who took our English, or rather Saxon appella- from the Greek word a-f/.v^u, corrumpo, and exuro, as most agree- to its destructive effects, especially of what we doe here so much um against, since this is certain, that, of all the common and liar materials which emit it, the immoderate use of, and indulgence ea-coale alone in the City of London, exposes it to one of the est inconveniencies and reproches, that can possibly befall so noble, otherwise incomparable City : and that, not from the culinary fires ;h for - being weak, and lesse often fed below, is with such ease ell'd and scatterr'd above, as it is hardly at all discernible, but 1 some few particular tunnells and issues, belonging only to brewers, 3, lime-burners, salt and sope-boylers, and some other private es, one of whose spiracles alone does manifestly infect the Aer e then all the chimnies of London put together besides. And that is not the least hyperbolic, let the best of judges decide it, which ke to be our senses : whilst these are belching It forth their sooty 5, the City of London resembles the, face rather of Mount Etna, the ■t of Vulcan, Stromboli, or the suburbs of Hell, then an assembly itional creatures, and the imperial seat of our incomparable Monarch. when in all other places the Aer is most serene and pure, it is here psed with such a cloud of sulphure,. as the Sun it self, which gives to all the world besides, is hardly able to penetrate and impart it ! ; and the weary Traveller, at many miles distance, sooner smells 221 then sees the City to which he repairs. This is that pernicious smoate which sullyes all her glory, superinducing a sooty crust or furr upon all that it lights, spoyling the moveables, tarnishing the plate, gildings, and furniture, and corroding the very iron bars and hardest stones with those piercing and acrimonious spirits which accompany its sulphure ; and executing more in one year, then expos'd to the pure Aer of the country it could effect in some hundreds. piceaque gravatutn Foedat nu,be diem * ; It is this horrid smoake which obscures our churches, and makes our palaces look old, which fouls our clothes, and corrupts the waters, so as the very rain and refreshing dews which fall in the several seasons precipitate this impure vapour, which, with its black and tenacious quality, spots and contaminates whatsoever is expos'd to it. ' Calidoque involvitur undique fumo -|-. It is this which scatters and strews about those black and smutty atomes upon all things where it comes, Insinuating it self into our very secret cabinets, and most precious repositories : finally, it is this which diffuses and spreads a yellownesse upon our choycest pictures and hang- ings : which does this mischief at home ; Is Avernts J to fowl, and kills our bees and flowers abroad, suffering nothing in our gardens to bud, display themselves, or ripen ; so as ouranemonies, and many other choycest flowers, will by no Industry be made to blow in London, .or the precincts of it, unlesse they be raised on a hot-bed, and govern'd with extraordinary artifice to acceUerate their springing, imparting a bitter and ungrateful tast to those few wretched fruits which, never arriving to their desired maturity, seem, like the apples of Sodome,. to fall even to dust when they are but touched. Not therefore to be for- gotten is that which was by many observ'd, that in the year when ' * Claud.de rap. Pros, 1. 1.- f 0"^' J, A lake in Italy; which formerly emitted such noxious fumes, that birds^ which a,ttempted to fly over it fell in and were suffocated ; but it has lost this bad quality for many ages, and is at present well stocked with fish and fowl. 222 New-castle was besiegM and blocked up in our late wars^ so as throug the great dearth and scarcity of coales, those famous worjks many < them were either left off, or spent but feW coales in cothparlsori t what they now use : divers gardens and orchards planted even" in th very heart of London, (as In particular my lord MarqueSse of Herl fords * In the Strand, ihy Lord Brldgewaters f, and some others abot Barbican,) were observed to bear such plentiful and infinite quiantltie of fruits, as they never produced the like either before or since, t their great astonishment : but it was by the owners rightly Imputed t the penury of coales, and the little smoake which they took notice t infest them that year : for there is a virtue in the Aer, to penetrate alter, nourish, yea and to multiply plants and fruits, without whlcl no vegetable could possibly thrive ; but as the Poet, Aret ager : vitio moriens sitit aeris herba+ : , So as it was not ill said by Paracelsus, that of all things Aer onl could be truly affirm'd to have life, seeing to all things it gave life Argument sufficient to demonstrate how prejudicial it is to the bodle of men ; for that can never be Aer fit for them to breath in, where no fruits nor flowers do ripen, or come to a seasonable perfection. I have strangely wondred, and not without some just indignation when the south-wind has been gently breathing, to have sometime beheld that stately house and igarden belonging to my lord of North * Sit William Seymour, Knt. second son of Edward Earl of Hertford, who succeeded his fathe in his titles and honours in 1618. In 1640, in consideration of his eminent services, he was cfeate Marquess of Hertford, and living to see the restoration of King Charles H. was by a special Ac restored to the title of Duke of Somerset. His second marriage was with Lady Prances, daughte of Robert Earl of Essex. ' After a careful but fruitless research for the house alluded to in the text> it seems probable, frOE the matrimonial alliance above-mentioned, that this nobleman was residing in Essex-house at th time referred to by Evelyn. t The Earls of Bridgewater had a house in the Barbican, called after their title. It was burn down in 1675, and Lord Brackley, eldestsonof the then Earl, and a younger brother, ' with thei: tutor, perished in the flames. The site is now called Bridgewater-square, or garden. Pennant. i Peorg. 7. 223 umberland *, even as far as White-hall and Westminster, wrapped in a horrid cloud of this ^moake, issuing from a brew-house or two con- tiguous to that noble, palaqe : so as coming up the river, that part of the City has ^ppqar'd a sea where no land was within ken ; the same fre(jiJkently happens from a Lime-kelne f on the bank-side neer the Falcon J, which when the windblQwes southern, dilates it self all over that poynt of the Thames, and the opposite part of London, especially about St. Paul's, poysoning the Aer with so d^rk and thick a fog, as I ■ have been, hardly able to pass through it, for the extraordinary stench and halitus It sends forth ; and the like Is neer Fox-hall § at the farther end of Lambeth. Now to what funest and deadly accidents the assiduous invasion of the smoak exposes the numerous inhabitants, I have already touch'd, whatsoever some have fondly pretended, not considering that the con- stant use of the same Aer (be It never so impure) may be consistent with life and a valetudinary state ; especially, if the place be native to us, and that we have never lived for any long time out of it; custome, in this, as In all things else, obtaining another nature, and all putre- faction proceeding from certain changes, It becomes^ as it were, the form and perfection of that vvhich is contain'd In It: for so (to say nothing of such as by assuefaction have made the rankest poysons their * Northumberland-house still graces the Strand as a memento of the splendour of our ancient no- bility, untouched by the devastating hands of mercenary builders, who have driven from the street every vestige of past times. f I doe assent, that both lime and sulphur are in some affections specifics for the lungs ; but then they are to be so prepared, as nothing save the purest parts be received into the body (for so phy- sicians prescribe flore sulph, &c.) and not accompanied with such gross and plainly virulent va- pours as these fires send forth : nor are they (as accurately prepar'd as art can render them) to be perpetually used, but at certain periods, in formes, and with due regimen. % The Falcon Stairs were standing upon that spot from the Bank-side, Southwark, lately oc- cupied by the South-east corner of the Albion Mills, and near them stood a very spacious building of wood and plaster, called the Falcon Inn, which, ft-om its appearance, was probably erected long previous to the reign of Elizabeth., : From its magnitude, and contiguity to the Bank-side Theatre, it was possibly the resort of Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, and other constant visitants of the Globe and Bear-garden. It was in the yard of the Falcon Inn that Sir Christopher Wren erected a house of red bricks, for the constant viewing the progress of St. Paul's and the otlier City Churcliea, which he was employed to re-build, and whieh could be seen from any of its windows. § Now known by the name of Vauxhall. 224 most, familiar diet) we read that IJpimenides continu'd fifty years in a damp cave, the Eremites dwelt in dens, and divers live now in the fens ; some are condemn'd to the mines, and others, that are perpe- tually conversant about the forges, furnaces of iron, and other smoaky works, are little concern'd with these troublesome accidents : but as it is not (I perswade my self) out of choyce that these men affect them ; so nor will any man, I think, commend and celebrate their manner of living. A tabid body might possibly trail out a miserable life of seven or eight years by a sea-coale fire, as 'tis reported the wife of a certain famous Physician did of late by the prescription of her husband ; but it is to be considered also, how much longer and happier she might have survived in a better and more noble Aer ; and that old Par, who lived in health to an hundred and fifty years of age, was not so much concern'd with the change of diet (as some have affirm'd) as with that of the Aer, which plainly wither'd him, and spoyl'd his digestion in a short time after his arrival at London. There is, I confesse, a certain idiosyncrasis* in the composition of some persons, which may fit and dispose them to thrive better in some Aers, then in others. But it is manifest that those who repair to London, no sooner enter into it, but they find a universal alteration in their bo- dies, which are either dryed up or inflam'd, the humours being exas- perated and made apt to putrifie, their sensories and perspiration so ex- ceedingly stopp'd, with the losse of appetite, and a kind of general stu- pefaction, succeeded with such cathars and distillations, as do never, or very rarely, quit them without some further symptomes of dangerous inconveniency so long as they abide in the place ; which yet are imme- diately restored to their former habit, so soon as they are retired to their homes and enjoy the fresh Aer again. And here I may not omit to mention what a most learned Physician -f' and one of the CoUedge as- sur'd me, as I remember of a friend of his, who had so strange an an- tipathy to the Aer of London : that though he were a Merchant, and had frequent businesse in the City, was yet constrained to make his * A peculiar temperament or disposition. t Dr. Whistler, > F. R. S. and Censor of the College of Physici^s, an excellent schplar, and ac- knowledged by Evelyn as " the most facetious man in nature." 225 dwelling some miles without it ; and when he came to the Exchange, within an hour or two grew so extremely indispos'd, that (as if out of his proper element) he was forced to take horse (which us'd therefore constantly to attend him at the entrance), and ride as far for his life, till ^ he came into the fields, and was returning home again, which is an in- stance so extraordinary, as not, it may be, to be parallel'd in any place of Europe, save the Grotto del Carie, nere Naples, the Os Plutonium of Srlvius, or some such subterranean habitation. For diseases proceed not from so long a series of causes, as we are apt to conceive ; but most times from those obvious and diespicable mischiefs, which yet we take lesse notice of because they are familiar. But how frequently do we hear men say (speaking of some deceased neighbour or friend) 'he went up to London, and took a great cold, &c. which he could never after- wards claw oflF again.' I report my self to all those who (during these sad confusions) have been compelled to breath the Aer of other countries for some years ; if they do not now perceive a manifest alteration in their appetite, and elearr ness of their spirits ; especially such as have liv'd long in France, and the city of Paris ; where, to take off that unjust reproch, the plague as seldome domineers as in any part of Europe, which I more impute to the serenity and purity of the Aer about it, then to any other qualities which are frequently assign'd for the cause of it by divers writers. But if it be objected that the purest Aers are soonest infected, it is answered, that they are also the soonest freed again ; and that none would there- fore choose to live in a corrupt Aer, because of this article. . London, 'tis confess'd, is not the only city most obnoxious to the pestilence ; but it is yet never clear of this smoake which is a plague so many other ways, and indeed intolerable ; because it kills not at once, but always, since still to languish is worse than even death it self. For is there under hea- ven such coughing and snuffing to be heard, as in the London churches and assemblies of people, where the barking and spitting is incessant and most importunate. What shall I say ? Hinc hominum pecudumque Lues*. — * Lucan. 2 G 226 And what mgiy be the cause of these troublesome effects, but the in- spiration of this infernal vapour, accompanying the Aer, which first heats and sollicits the aspera arteria, through one of whose conduits, partly car- tilaginous, and partly membranous, it enters by several branches into the very pa7'enchi/ mo, and substance of the lungs, violating, in this passage, the larynx and epiglottis^ together with those multiform and curious muscles, the immediate and proper instruments of the voyce, which be- coming rough and drye, can neither be contracted or dilated for the due modulation of the yoyce ; so as by some of my friends (studious in Musick, whereof one is a Doctor of Physick) it has been constantly observ'd, that coming out of the country into London, they lost three whole notes in the compasse of their voice, which they never recover'd again till their retreat; adeo enim animantes* (to use the Orators words) aspiratione ^eris sustinentur, ipseque Jler nobiscum videt, nobiscum audit, nobiscum sonat. In summe, we perform nothing withobt it. Whether the head and the brain (as some have imagined) take in the ambient Aer, nay the very arteries through the skin universally over the whole body, is greatly controverted ; but if so, of what consequence the goodnesse and purity of the Aer is, will to every one appear: sure we are, how much the respiration is perturb'd, and concern'd, when the lungs are prepossessed with these grosse and dense vapours, brought along in the Aer ; which on the other side being pure and fitly quali- fied, and so conducted to them, is there commixed with the circulating blood, insinuating itself into the left ventricle of the heart by the ar- teria venosa, to rarifie and subtilize that precious vehicle of the spirits and vital , flame. The vena arteriosa, and arteria venosa, disposing themselves into many branches through the pulmonique lobes, for its convoy, the Aer (as we sayd) being first, brought into them out of the bronchia (together with the returning blood) to the very heart it self ; so as we are not at all to wonder at the suddain and prodigious effects of a poysonous or lesse wholesome Aer, when it comes to Invade such noble parts, vessells, spirits, and humours, as it visits and attaques, through those subtile and curious passages. But this is not all. What if there appear to be an arsenical vapour, as well as sulphur, * Cic. de Niit. Deor. 227 breathing sometimes from this intemperate use of sea-cole, in great cities? That there is, what does plainly stupifie, is evident to those who sit long by it; and that which fortun'd to the Dutchmen who winter'd in Nova Zembla, was by all Physicians attributed to such a deleterious quality in the like fuell, as well as to the inspissation of the Aer, which they thought only to have attemper'd, as is by most esteem'd to be the reason of the same dangerous halitus of char-cole, not fully enkendl'd. But to come neerer yet. New Castle cole, as an expert Physician* affirms, causeth consump- tions, phthisicks, and the indisposition of the luiTgs, not only by the suffiDcating abundance of smoake, but also by its virulency : for all subterrany fuel hath a kind of virulent or arsenical vapour rising from it; which, as it speedily destroys those who dig it in the mines, so does it by little and little, those who use it here above them. There- fore those diseases (saith this Doctor) most afflict about London, where the very iron is sooner consum'd by the smoake thereof, then where this fire is not used. And, if indeed there be such a venemous quality latent, and some- times breathing from this fuell, we are lesse to trouble ourselves for the finding out of the cause of those pestilential and epidemical sicknesses (epidemiorum causa enim in ^ere, says Galen) which at divers periods have so terribly infested and wasted us : or, that it should be so suscep- tible of infection, all manner of diseases having so universal a vehicle as is that of the smoake, which perpetually invests this city : but this is also noted by the learned Sir Kenelme Digby, f in confirmation of the doctrine of atomical effluvias and emanations, wafted, mixed and com- municated by the Aer, where he well observes, that from the materials of our London fires, there results a great quantity of volatile salts, which being very sharp and dissipated by the smoakes, doth infect the Aer, and so incorporated with it, that, though the very bodies of those corrosive particles escape our perception, yet we soon find their effects, by the destruction which they induce upon all things that they do but touch ; spoyling and destroying their beautiful colours, with their fuli- * Arnold Boetius a Boot, a Physician well versed in the Latin, Greek, Hebrew^i and Syriac lan- guages, who died in 1653. t In his Discourse of sympathetick powder. 228 ginous qualities : yea, though a chamber be never so closely locked up, men find at their return, all things that are in it even covered with a black thin soot, and all the rest of the furniture as full of it, as if it were in the house of some miller, or a bakers shop, where the flower gets into the cupboards and boxes, though never so close and accu- rately shut. This coale, says Sir K. flies abroad, fowling the clothes that are expos'd drying upon the hedges; and in the spring-time (as but now we mentioned) besoots all the leaves, so as there is nothing free from its universal contamination, and it is for this that the bleachers about Harlaem prohibit by an express law (as I am told) the use of these coles, for some miles about that town ; and how curious the diers and weavers of dammask, and other precious silks are at Florence, of the least ingresse of any smoaky vapour, whilst their Idomes are at work, I shall shew upon some other occasion : but in the mean time being thus incorporated with the very Aer which ministers to the necessary respi- ration of our lungs, the inhabitants of London, and such as frequent it, find it in all their expectorations; the spittle, and other excrements which proceed from them, being for the most part of a blackish and fuliginous colour : besides, this acrimonious soot produces another sad effect, by rendrlng the people obnoxious to inflammations, and comes (in time) to exulcerate the lungs, which is a mischief so incurable, that it carries away multitudes by languishing and deep consumptions, as the Bills of Mortality do weekly inform us. And these are those endemii morhi, vernaculous and proper to London. So corrosive is this smoake about the city, that if one would hang up gammons of bacon, beefe, or other flesh to fume, and prepare it in the chimnies, as the good house- wifes do in the country, where they make use of sweeter fuell, it will so mummifie, drye up, waste and burn it, that it suddainly crumbles away, consumes and comes to nothing. The consequences then of all this is, that (as was said) almost one half of them who perish in London, dye of phthisical and pulmonic dis- tempers ; that the Inhabitants are never free from coughs arid importu- nate rheumatisms, spitting of impostumated and corrupt matter : for remedy whereof, there is none so infallible, as that, in time, the patient 229 change his Aer, and remove into the country : such as repair to Paris (where it is excellent) and other like places, perfectly recovering of their health ; which is a demonstration sufficient to confirm what we have asserted concerning the perniciousnesse of that ahout this City, pro- duced only from this exitial and intolerable accident. But 1 hear it now objected by some, that in publishing this invective against the smoake of London, I hazard the engaging of a whole faculty against me, and particularly, that the Colledge of Physicians esteem it rather a preservation against infections, then otherwise any cause of the sad effects which I have enumerated. But as I have, upon several en- counters, found the most able and learned amongst them, to renounce this opinion, and heartily wish for a universal purgation of the Aer by the expedients I propose ; so I cannot believe that any of that learned so- ciety should think themselves so far concern'd, as to he offended with me for that, which (as well for their sakes, as the rest who derive bene- fit from it) I wish were at farther distance ; since it is certain, that so many of their patients are driven away from the City, upon the least in- disposition which attaques ,them, on this sole consideration ; as esteem- ing it lesse dangerous to put themselves into the hands of some country doctor or empiric, then to abide the Aer of London, with all its other advantages. For the rest, that pretend to that honourable profession ; if any shall find themselves Qgreev'd, and think good to contend, I shall easily allow him as much smoake as he desires, and much good may it do him. But it is to be suspected, and the answer is made (by as many as have ever suggested the objection to me), that there be some whom I must expect to plead for that which makes so much work for the chimney-sweeper : since I am secure of the learned and ingenuous, and whose fortunes are not built on smoake, or raised by a universal cala- mity : such as I esteem to be the nuisances I have here reproved : I do not hence infer, that I shall be any way impatient of a just and civil re'ply, which I shall rather esteem for an honour done me, because I know that a witty and a learned man is able to discourse upon any sub- ject whatsoever ; some of them having with praise, written even of the praise of Diseases themselves ; for so Favorinus of old, and Menapius since, commended a quartan ague ; Pirckhemierus the gout ; Gutherius 230 celebrated blindnesse, Hiensius the louse; and to come nearer our theam^ Majoragius the nasty dirt : not, I suppose, that they affected these plea- sant things, but, as' A. Gellius * has it, exercendi gratia ^ and to shew their wits : for as the Poet, Sunt etiam musis sua ludicra, mista camoenis Otia sunt : But to proceed, I do farther affirm, that it is not the dust and ordure which is daily cast out of their houses, much lesse what is brought in by the feet of men and horses ; or the want of more frequent and better conveyances, which renders the streets of London^dirty even to a pro- verb : but chiefly this continual smoake, which ascending in the day- time, is, by the descending dew and cold, precipitated again at night : and this is manifest, if a peice of clean linnen be spread all night in any court or garden, the least infested as to appearance ; but especially if it happen' to rain, which carries it down in greater portion, not only upon the earth, but upon the water also, where it leaves a thin web, or pelli- cule of dust, dancing upon the surface of it ; as those who go to bathe in the Thames (though at some miles distance from the City) do easily discern and bring home upon their bodies : How it sticks on the hands, faces, and linnen of our fair ladles, and nicer dames, who reside constantly in London (especially during winter), the prodigious wast of almond-pow- der for the one, soap and wearing out of the other, do sufficiently manifest. Let it be considered what a fuliginous crust is yearly contracted, and adheres to the sides of our ordinary chymnies where this grosse fuell is used; and then imagine, if there were a solid tentorium, or canopy over London, what a masse of soote would then stick to it, which now (as was said) comes down every night in the streets, on our houses, the waters, and is taken into our bodies. And may this much suffice concerning the causes and effects of this evill, and to discover to all the world how pernicious this smoake is to our inhabitants of London, to decrie it, and to introduce some happy expedient, whereby they may for the future hope to be freed froni so intolerable an inconvenience, if what I shall be able to produce and offer next may in some measure contribute to it. * De materiis infamibus quas Grsci aJofs; appellant. Noct. Att. L. 17. c. 12. 231 PART II. We know (as the proverb commonly speaks) that, 'as there is no smoake without fire ; so neither is there hardly any fire without smoake/ and that the axxTrm |uAa, materials which burn clear are very few, and but comparatively so tearmed. That to talk of serving this vast City (though Paris as great, be so supplied) with wood*, were madnesse; and yet doubtlesse it were possible, that much larger proportions of wood might be brought to London, and sold at easier rates, if that were diligently observed, which both our Laws enjoyn, as faisible and prac- tised in other places more remote, by planting and preserving of woods and copses, and by what might by sea be brought out of the Northern countries, where it so greatly abounds, and seems inexhaustible. But the remedy which I would propose, has nothing in it of this difficultyj requiring only the removal of such trades, as are manifest nuisances to the City, which I would have placed at farther distances; especially, such as in their works and fournaces use great quantities of sea-colej the sole and only cause of those prodigious clouds of smoake which so uni- versally and so fatally infest the Aer, and would in no city of Europe be permitted, where men had either respect to health or ornament. Such we named to be brewers, diers, sope and salt-boylers, lime-burners, and the like : these I affirm, together with some few others of the same classe removed at competent distance, would produce so considerable (though but partial) a cure, as men would even be found to breath a new life as it were, as well as London appear a new city, delivered from that which alone renders it one of the most pernicious ' and insupport- able abodes in the world, as subjecting her inhabitants to so infamous an Aer, otherwise sweet and very healthful : for, (as we said) the culi- nary fires (and which charking would greatly reform) contribute little or nothing in comparison to these foul mouth'd issues, and curies of smoake, which (as the Poet has it) do ccelum subtexere fumo ■{', and * This project of supplying London with wood fires, was certainly very humane ; but, from the destruction of the woodsy even in Evelyn's days, was as little practicable as it would be at present, t Virgil. 232 draw a sable curtain over heaven. Let any man observe it upon a Sun- day, or such time as these spiracles cease, that the fires are generally extinguished, and he shall sensibly conclude, by the clearnesse of the skie, and universal serenity of the aer about it, that all the chimnies in London do not darken and poyson it so much as one or two of those tunnels of smoake ; and, that, because the most imperceptible transpi- rations which they send forth are ventilated and dispersed with the least breath which is stirring, whereas the columns and clowds of smoake which are belched forth from the sooty throates of those works, are so thick and plentiful, that rushing out with great impetuosity, they are capable even to resist the fiercest winds, and being extremely siir- charg'd with a fuliginous body, fall down upon the City, before they can be dissipated, as the more thin and weak is ; so as two or three of these fumid vortices *, are able to whirle it about the whole City, rendering it in a few moments like the picture of Troy sacked by the Greeks, or the approches of Mount-Hecla. I propose therefore, that by an Act of this present Parliament, this infernal nuisance be reformed ; enjoyning, that all those works be re- moved five or six miles distant from London below, the river of Thames ; I say, five or six miles, or at the least so far as to stand behind that promontory jetting out, and securing Greenwich f from the pestilent Aer of Plumstead-marshes : because, being placed at any lesser interval beneath the City, it would not only prodigiously infect that his Majesties royal seat (^and as Barclay calls it) pervetusta Itegum JBritatinicorum domus ; but during our nine months Etesians (for so we may justly name our tedious Western-winds) utterly darken and confound one of the most princely, and magnificent J prospects that the world has to shew : whereas, being seated behind that mountain, and which seems to have been thus industriously elevated ; no winds, or other accident whatever can force it through that solid obstacle ; and I am perswaded that the heat of these works, mixing with the too cold and uliginous * Pliny. t Or WooUedge. } Meinorabilis amoenitas pene citius animum quam oculos difFudit, aspectu non Britannia tan- tum, sed fortasse tota Europa pulcherrimo, &c. Sed pulcherrimum spectaculum preebet ipsa'urbs inter exiinias Europae celebrata, &c, Jo. Barcl. Euphor. Sat. part. 4. c. 2. 233 vapours which perpetually ascend from these fenny grounds, might be a means of rendring that Aer far more healthy then now it is ; because it seems to stand in need of some powerful drier ; but which London, by reason of its excellent scituation, does not all require. And if it shall be objected that the brakishnesse of the spring-tides, happening hereabout at some periods, may render the waters lesse useful for some purposes : it is an extraordinary accident, which, appearing rarely, is cured again at the reversion of the next tide : or if it only concern the brewer, I know no inconveniency, if even some of them were prescrib'd, as far as any fresh-waters are found dissemboguing into the Thames ; since the commodiousnesse of the passage may bring up their wares with so great ease. He that considers what quantities are transported from Dantzick, Lubeck, Hamborough, and other remote places into Holland, cannot think this an unreasonable proposition : but if their fondnesse to be nearer London, procure indulgence for some of them, thetowne of Bowe, in regard of its scituation from our continual winds, may serve for the expedient, and a partial cure : but the rest of thosfe banish'd to the utmost extreme propounded on the river. At least by this means thousands of able watermen may be employed in bringing commodities into the City, to certain magazines & wharfs, commodiously situated to dispense them by carrs or rather sleds, into the several parts of the town ; all which may be eflfected with much faci- lity, and small expense ; but, with such conveniency and benefit to the inhabitants otherwise, as were altogether inestimable ; and therefore, to be vallu'd beyond all other trifling objections of sordid and avaricious persons whatsoever. Nor, indeed, could there at all the lest detriment ensue upon this reformation, since, the places and houses deserted (which commonly take up a great space of ground) might be converted into tenements, and some of them into noble houses for use and plea- sure, respecting the Thames to their no small advantage. Add to this, that it would be a means to prevent the danger of fireing, those sad calamities, for the most part, proceeding from some accident or other, which takes beginning ' from places^ where such great and exorbitant fires are perpetually kept going. 2 H 234 l^Joi: \vere this a tjiing yet sp extravagant, ao4 witUpiit: »U president of former tinips ; slqpe even ithie siaa^^jse ^xl^ burning of les^e fqetid asn^ noxious fueU prodpc'd ^n inqqnveniepce so vii^iversal in po^e cQuntries of |:his nation : not tq menjtion the complaint which I haye heard ^pme parts even of France itself lying Sou(;h-west of England, did formerly make of being infested with smoakes driven from o«r maritime coasts, which injur'd their vinps jn flower % that ^t was thoughj: expedient an Act of Parliamfipt should be pjiade purposply to reform \t, in the seventh year of the reign of his Majesties grandfather that now is, which, to take oflF all prgudice, X shall here rpcite, as it remains upon record. Anno vii Jacohi liegis. An Act against burning of Ling, and Heath, a,nd other Moar-burning in the Counties of Yorke, Durhaip, Northumberland, Cumberland, "Vl^estmorland, Lancaster, Darbie, Nottingham, and Leicester, at unseasonable times of the y?ar. Whereas, many inconveniencies are observed to happen in divers counties of this realm, by moore-burnings, and by raising of fires in moorish grounds and mountaneous countries, for burning of ling, heath, hather, furres, gorsse, turflfe, fearn, whjnnes, broom, and the like, in the spring time, and summer-times : For as much as thereby happeneth * An elegant French writpr, since our author's time, describes the effects of pur sea-coal thus: Aspicis effosso terris carbone Britanni , QUam malfe dissolvunt fiigus, quam ducitur aegrfe Spiritus ; infesto nisi tabescentibus igne Atpnspeliensis opetn tulerit pulmonibus aer. ***** ^gra salutifero potiatur ut aSre tepuin Gallia, quae foculos uno carhone Britann{ini Mqx strjiet ad ritum, lignp caritura^ gravc§que Hauriet et fumos, et anheli semina morbi ; Ni caveant quibus est nemorum mandata pptestas. Jac. Vanierii Pk^d. Ru«t. 12mo, Par. 17€5, p. 33. 235 yearly a great destruction of the bifood of wild-fowle and moor-gaifitie, and by the multitacfe of grosse va|)ours, and clouds arising from those great fires, the Aer is so distemper'd, and such unseasonable and un- natural storms are ingendred, as that the corn, and the fruites of the earth are thereby in divers places blasted^; and greatly hindered in their due course of ripening- and reaping. As also, for that sometimes it: hath happened, that by the violence of those fires driven with the ' wind, great fields of corn growing, have been consumed, and meadbws- spoyl'd, to the great hurt and dammage: of his Majesties subjects ;• which moor-burnings, neverthelesse, may be used, and practised at some other convenient times, without such, eminent dainger or prejudice. Be it therefore enacted by our Soveraign Lord the. Kings most excellent Miajesty, with the assent of the Lords spiritual and; temporkl, and of the Commons in this Parliament assembled, and by the authoi-> rity of the same ; that from and after the last day of July next ensuing the end of this present Session of Parliament, it shall; not be lawful for any person or persons whatsoever, in the months of April, May, June, July, August, and September, nor in any of. them.^ to raise, kindle, or begin, or to cause or practise to be raised, kindled, or beguni, any fires or moor-burnings in the said counties of York, Durham, Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmorland, Lancaster, Darby, Nottingham, and Leicester, or in any of them, for burning of ling, heath, hather, furs, gorsse, turflFes, fearne, whinnes, broome or the like ; neither to assist, further; nourish or continue the same ; and that all and every person or persons which, from, and after the said last day of July, shall offend contrary to the true intent and meaning of this statute, the same offence being proved by confession of the party, or by the testimonies of two sufficient witnesses upon oath, before one or more Justices of the Peace of the same county, city, or town corporate, where the offence shall be committed ; or the person or persons offending, apprehended, shall be by the said Juistice or Justices of the Peace for every such offence, committed to the common goale of the county, city, or town corporate, where the offence shall be committed, or the person or persons apprehended, there to remain for the space of one month without bail or main-prise. 236 And further, be it enacted, by the authority aforesaid, that £ every person or persons, which shall be so convicted and impris( aforesaid shall not be enlarged from their said imprison mem shall there remain after the said month is expired, without bail oi prise, untill such time as every such offender respectively sha or cause to be paid to the churchwardens, or unto the overseers poor of the parish or place where the same offence shall be comi or the offender or offenders apprehended, or unto some of them, use of the poor of the said parish or place where the same shall be committed, the summe of twenty shillings for ever offence committed or done contrary, to this Act, This Act to cc until the end of the first Session of the next Parliament. So far the Act. And here you see was care taken for the fo the game, as well as for the fruits, corn, and grasse, which were i sally incommoded by these unwholsome vapours, that distempei Aer, * to the very raising of storms and tempests ; upon which a sopher might amply discourse. And if such care was taken country, where the more aereall parts predominate, and comparison free ; how much greater ought there to be for th where are such multitudes of inhabitants concern'd .? and surely it of old, when (to obviate all that can be replied against it) even ] very service of God, the sacrifices were to be burnt without the amongst the Jews ; as (of old) amongst the Romans, hominen tuum in urbe ne sepelito, neve urito. That men should burn c the dead within the city walls, was expresly prohibited by a law XII tables; and truely, I am perswaded, that the frequency of c yards and charnel-houses contaminate the Aer in many parts ( town, as well as the pumps and waters which are any thing nea them, so that those pipes and conveyances which passe through (obnoxious tomany dangerous accidents) ought either to be d some other way, or very carefully to be looked after. We might add to these, chandlers and butchers, because ol horrid stinks, niderous and unwholsome smells which proceed fn * See Hipp, de Flatibus, & Gal. 1. Cib. boni & mail succi> instancing in corn and wj son'd by ill Aer. 237 tallow and corrupted blood : at least should no cattel be kill'd within the city (to this day observ'd in the Spanish great towns of America*) since the flesh and candles might so easily be brought to the shambles and shops from other places lesse remote then th^ former; by which means also might be avoided the driving of cattel through the streets, which is a very great inconvenience and some danger. The same might be affirm'd of fishmongers, so-wittily perstringed by Erasmus f, per sal- samentarios nempe, hiquinari Civitatem, infici terram, jiumina^ aerem ^ ignem, §• si quod aliud est elementum. Then for the butcher ;' that the lex carnaria of the Romans forbad them to kill, or ^lave their slaughter-houses within the walls ; that they had a certain station as- sign'd them without ; we si passim vivant, totam urhem reddani pesti- lentem. So, as were the people to choose, malunt (says he) habere vicinos decern leriones, quam unum lanionem ; they would rather dwell neer ten bawds, then one butcher. But this is insulsus salsa- mentarius, a quibble of the fishmongers. I could yet wish that our nasty prisons and common goales might bear them company ; since I affirm they might all be remov'd to some distant places neer the river, the situation whereof does so invite, and rarely contribute to the effect- ing of it. But if the avarice of the men of this age, be so far deplor- able, that we may not hope for so absolute a cure of all that is offen- sive ; at least let such vi'hose works are upon the margent of the Thames, and which are Indeed the most Intollerable, be banished fur- ther off, and not once dare to approach that silver channel (but at the ' distance prescrlb'd) which glides by her stately palaces, and irrigates her welcome banks. * This is also the custom in Paris, as will be seen in the following extract from Planta's New Picture of Paris, 18'-22 : — " The slaughter-houses, which are considered the nuisance and, disgrace of the English metropolis, are placed in the outskirts of Paris, and under the inspection of the police. The slaughter-house of Montmartre, at the end of Rue Rochechouart, rivals' many of the public buildings in its external appearance. It .is no less than 1,074 feet in length, and 384 in depth, and is watered by sluices from the Ourcq. On entering it, the stranger perceives ho dis- agreeable smell ; he witnesses no disgusting sight j and often he would not suspect the purpose to which the building is devoted. The slaughter-house of Pepincourt, or Menilmontant, Rue dea Amandiers, almost rivals that at Montmartre. The other slaughter-houses are. Abattoir de Cre- nelle, near the Barrifere de Sfevres ; du Roule or de Mouceaux, faubourg du Roule j and de Ville Tuif, or d'lvry, boulevard de I'Hdpital," flx^vo^ayia. 238 What a new spirit would these easie remedies create among' the inhahitants of London ? what another genius infuse in the face of things? and, there is none but observes, and feels: in himself the chaaige which a serene and clear day produces ; how heavy and lesse dispos'd to motion. Yea,, even to good humour and friendly inclinatiojiSj we many times find ourselves when the Heavens are clowded,. and discomposed'?/ when the south winds blow, and the humours are fluid, for whafc we are when the skie is fair, and the aer in good temper? And there is reason,, that we, who are compos'd of the elements;,, should' participate of their qualities : for as the humours have their sourse from, the elements;, so have our passions from the. hamors, and. the soul which is united to this body of ourSj cannot but be affected with itS( inclinations. The very dumb creatures themselves being sensible of the alteration of the Aer,. though not by ratiocination,, yet by many- notorious symptomes. But I forbear to philosophise farther upon thisi subject, capable of very large and noble reflections; having with my promis'd brevity, endea- voured to shew the inconveniencies and the remedies of what does so universally offend, and obscure the glory of this our renowned metro- polis ; and which, I hope, may produce some effects toward* the re- foirming of so-publick a nuisance. At least, let the continual sejourn of our illustrious Charles,, who is the very breath of our nostrils, in whose health all our happinease consists, be precious in our eyes, and make our noble patriots, now assembled in Parliament, consult for the speedy removal of this universal grievajicei It is certainly of far greater concernment (however light and aery it may appear to some) then the drayning of a fen, or beautrfying an aqueduct, for which some have received such publick honours, statues,, and inscriptions ; and will (if ever any thing did) deserve the like acknowledgments both of the present and future ages. You, there- fore, that have houses in the city, you that bring up your wives and families from their sweet habitations in the country; that educate your children here ; that have offices at court ; that study the laws : in fine all that are ofAOKuwoi, 8f ad eundem fumum. degentes, bear a part in this request of mine, which concerns the universal benefit ; and the 239 rather, for that having nerther habitation, office, nor being in the d I 'eannot be suspected to oblige any particular. The elegant ladies j nicer datnes ; all that are in health, and would continue so ; that are firm or convalescent, and would be perfect ; that affect the glory of ( court and city, health or beauty, are concerned in this petition ; anc will become our wise Senators, . and we earnestly expect it, that tl would consult as well the state of the natural, as the politick be of this great nation, so considerable a part whereof are inhabitants this august city ; since, without their mtttual harmony and well-bei there can nothing prosper, or arrive to its desired perfection. PART la AN OFFER AT THE IMPiaOVEMENT AND MELIORATION OF THE A! OF LONDON, BY WAY OF PLANTATIONS, &C. There goes a pleasant tale of a certain S"" Politick, that in the k great plague projected, how by a vessel fraight with peel'd dnioi which should passe along the Thames by the city, when the wind sa in a favourable quarter, to attract the pollution of the aer, and si away with the infection to the sea : transportation of diseases we som times read of amongst the magnetically or rather magical cures ; b never before of this^ way of transfretation : but, however this excelle conceit has often afforded good mirth on the stage, and I now mei tia^i to prevent the application to what I here propound; there is y another expedient, which I have here to offer (were this of the pc sonous and filthy smoak remov'd) by which the city and enviroi about it might be rendered one of the most pleasant and agreeab places in the world. In order to this I propose *, * If the reader, should- find himself disposed to smile when he sees the author gravely proposi to counteract the offensive smells of London by rows of trees, and borders of fragrant shrubs^ a aromatic herbs ; he should remember that this scheme, visionary as it may appear, was the foil of a writer wjiose enthusiasm for planting has proved of singular service to this kingdom j pi ductive of noble plantations, ornamental to the country, and useful to the community. 240 That all low grounds circumjacent to the city, especially east and south-west, be cast and contriv'd into square plots, or fields of twenty^ thirty, and forty akers, or more, separated from each other by fences of douWe palisads, or contr'spaliars, which should enclose a plantation of an hundred and fifty, or more, feet deep, about each field; not much unlike to what His Majesty has already begun by the wall from old Spring Garden to St. James's in that park ; and is somewhat resembled in the new Spring Garden at Lambeth *. That these palisads be ele- gantly planted, diligently kept and supply'd, with such shrubs as yield the most fragrant and odoriferous flowers, and are aptest to tinge the Aer upon every gentle emission at a great distance : such as are (for in- stance amongst many others) the sweet-brier, all the periclymena's and woodbinds ; the common white and yellow jessamine, both the syringa's or pipe trees ; the guelder rose, the musk, and all other roses ; genista hispanica : to these may be added the rubus odoratus, baye's, juniper, lignum-vitae, lavender : but above all, rosemary, the flowers whereof are credibly reported to give ^heir scent above thirty leagues oflFat sea, upon the coasts of Spain : and at some distance towards the meadow side, vines ; yea, hops. — Et arbuta passim, Et glaucas salices, casiamque crocumque rubentem, - . • Et pinguem tiliam, & ferrugineos hyacinthos, &cf. For there is a s^eet smelling sally J, and the blossoms of the tilia * JM. MonconySj in bis " Voyage d'Angleterre,'' made in May 1663, has the following interesting passage concerning these Gardens which he visited. After having seen Westihinster Abbey, he continues — " Au sortir, nous fClraes dans un Bot de I'autre c6t^ de la Tamise voir deux Jardins, oh tout le monde se peut aller promener, & faire collation dans des cabaret qui y font : ou dans les cahinets/ du jardin. On les. nomme Springer Gaerden, c'est a dire, Jardins du Printemps, dont celui qu'on nomme le Nouveau est plus beau de beaucoup que I'autre. J'y admirai la beautd des allies de gazons, et la politesse de celles qui sont sabl&s. 11 est divis6 en une grande quan- tity de quarrez de 20 ou 30 pas en quarr6, clos par des hayes de groselliers, et tous ces quarr^ssont plant^s aussi de framboisiers, de rosiers et d'autres arbrisseaux, comme aussi d'herbages, et de legumes, comme pois, feves, asperges, fraises, &c. Toutes les all&s sont bord^es ou de jonquilles, ou de geroflges, ou de lis." P. 29. Par. 1695. 12mo. t Virgil. + Sallow or willow. 241 or lime-tree *, are incomparably fragrant ; in brief, whatsoever is odori- ferous and refreshing. That the spaces or area between these palisads and fences, be em- ploy'd in beds and bordures of pinks, carnations, cloven stock -gilly- flower, primroses, auriculas, violets, not forgetting the white, which are in flower twice a year, April and August : cowslips, lillies, narcissus,- strawberries, whose very leaves as well as fruit emit a cardiaque, and most refreshing halitus : also parietaria lutea, musk, lemnion, and mas- tick, thyme, spike, cammomile, balm, mint, marjoram, pepapernel, and serpillum, &c. which, upon the least pressure and cutting, breathe out and betray their ravishing odors. That the fields, and crofts within these closures, or invironing gar- dens, be some of them planted with wild thyme, and others reserved for plots of beans, pease (not cabbages, whose rotten and perishing stalks have a very noisom and unhealthy smell, and therefore by Hyp- pocrates utterly condemned near great cities) but such blossom-bearing brain as send forth their virtue at farthest distance, and are all of them marketable at London ; by which. means, the aer and winds perpetually fann'd from so many circling and encompassing hedges, fragrant shrubs, trees and flowers, (the amputation and prunings of whose superfluities may in winter, on some occasions of weather and winds, be burnt, to visit the city with a more benign smoak,} not onely all that did approach the region which is properly design'd to be flowery ; but even the whole City would be sensible of the sweet and ravishing varleiles of the per- fumes, as well as of the most delightful and pleasant pbjects and places of recreation for the inhabitants ; yielding also a prospect of a noble and masculine majesty, by reason of the frequent plantations of trees, and nurseries for ornament, profit, and security. The remainder of the fields Included yielding the same, and better shelter, and pasture for sheep and cattel then now ; that they He bleak, expos'd and abandon'd to the winds, which perpetually invade them. That, to this end, the gardiners (which now cultivate the upper, more drie, and ungrateful soil,) be encouraged to begin plantations In such * Jt has been conjectured that piobably the lime-trees in St. James's Park were planted in con- sequence of this suggestion. 2t 242 places onely : and the farther exorbitant encrease of tenesnaents,,. poor . and nasty cottages near the City, be prohibited, which disgrace and take off from the sweetness and amtEnity of the environs of London^ and are already become a great eye-sore in the grounds opposite to his Majesty's Palace of White-hall j which being converted to this use,: might yield a diversion inferior to none that could be imagined for health, profit, and beauty, which are the three transcendencies that render a place without all exception. And this is what (in short) I had to offer, for the improvement and melioration of the Aer about London, and with which I shall conclude this discourse. SCULPTURA: OR THE HISTORY AND ART OF CHALCOGRAPHY AND ENGRAVING IN COPPER. WITH AN AMPLE ENUMERATION OF THE MOST RENOWNED MASTERS, AND THEIR WORKS. TO WHICH IS ANNEXED A NEW MANNER OF ENGRAVING, OR MEZZO TINTO, COMMUNICATED 5Y HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE RUPERT TO THE AUTHOR OF THIS TREATISE. Implevi eum Spiritu Dei, Sapientia, et Intelligentia, et Scientia in omni Opere, Sic. XXXI. EXOD. XXXV. LONDON: PRINTED BY J. C. FOR G. BEEDLE AND T, COLLINS, AT THE MIDDLE TRMPLE GATE, AND J. CROOK, IN ST. PAULS CHURCH-YARD. 1662. 245 TO THE HONOURABLE AND LEARNED GENTLEMAN, ROBERT BOYLE*, Esa. Sir, Having, upon your reiterated instances ("which are ever commands with me) prepared this treatise concerning the history of Chalcogra- phy, &c. I thought my self engag'd to signifie- to the rest that may possibly receive satisfaction or benefit from it, to whom they are obliged for the publication of it. The truth is, as it respects the pains which I have taken, it bears not the least proportion with my ambition of serving you; but as you are pleased to judge it useful for the encou- ragement of the gentlemen of our nation, who sometimes please them- iselves with these innocent diversions (collections worthy of them .for divers respects) and, especially, that such as are addicted to the more noble Mathematical Sciences, may draw and engrave their schemes with delight and assurance, I have been induc'd to think it more worthy your patronage, and of my small adventure, who professe to have ijothing so much in my desires, and which I more avow the pursuite of, then to employ the whole remainder of the life which God shall assigne me, and that I can redeem from its impertinencies, in con- tributing to that great and august designe, which your illustrious and happy genius do's prompt you to, of cultivating the sciences, and ad- vancing of useful knowledge, emancipated from the strong contentions and little fruit of the former ; envy, and imposture of the latter ages. Sir, this is not in the least to flatter you, nor can I have other aime in it, then that by your great example, I might excite such as (like you) have parts and faculties, to things that are glorious, and worthy of them. Your studies are so mature and universal, your travels so * " Jan. 16, 1661. I went to the Philosophic Club, where was examined the Torricellian expe- riment. I presented my Circle of Mechanical Trades, and had recommended to me ye publishing what I had written of Cateog^ro;)%." — Diary, vol. I. p. 316. " 10th June, 1662. I presented my History of Calcographie (dedicated to Mf. Boyle) to our Hociety."— Diary, vol. I. p. 336, 246 highly improv'd, and your experience so well establish'd, that, after I have celebrated the conversation which results from all these perfections, it is from you alone that I might describe the character of an accom- plish'd genius, great and worthy our emulation. But though your modesty do's not permit me to run through all those transcendencies ; yet the world is sufficiently instructed by what you cannot conceal, that I say nothing of servile, and which will not abide the test ; so as I have been often heard to exult in the felicity of this conjuncture of ours, which (since those prodigies of virtue, the illustrious Ticho, Ba* con, Gilbert, Harvey, Digby, Galileo, Peireske, Des Cartes, Gassendi, Bernier, his disciple now in Persia, and the late incomparable Jacomo Maria Favi, &c.) has produc'd us nothing which will support the comparison with you, when I shall pronounce you (and as Indeed your merits do challenge it) the Phoenix of this latter age. And now that I mention'd Signor Favi, I will not conceal with what extasle and joy I lately found his memory (which I have so much and so often heard mention'd abroad, by such as had the happiness to know him Intimately) consecrated by the eloquent pen of Monsieur Sorbiere, in a discourse of his to Monsieur Vitre, concerning the utility of great travel and forreign voyages ; because it approaches so neer to the idea which I have propos'd, and may serve as an encouragement and example to the gentlemen of our nation, who for the most part wander, and spend their time abroad. In the pursuit of those vain and lower pleasures, fruitless, and altogether intoUerable. But, Sir, I will crowd no more into this Epistle (already too prolixe) which was only deslgn'd to accompany this piece, and some other usefull and more liberal diversions of this nature, which I cannot yet produce. But every thing has Its time ; and when I would redeem it to the best ad- vantage, it is by entertaining It with something that may best declare to all the world how greatly I account the honour of being esteem'd Sir, Your most humble and most obedient Servant, SayeS'Court, J. Evelyn. 5 4pril, 1662. 247 AN ACCOUNT OF SIGNOR GIACOMO FAVI, BY MONSIEUR SORBIERE. GiAcoMo Maria Fayi, of the house of the Marescotti of Boulonia, died above thirty-five years of age, neer fifteen years since, in the city of Paris. It is a history worthy of record, and that all the v^^orld should take notice of this incomparable person, as that great wit and polite philoso- pher Monsieur Sorbiere does describe him : For as much ("saves he) as it seems to be a very great reproch, that neither prince nor state have hitherto had the consideration or the courage to undertake what one particular person alone did resolve upon, for the universal benefit and good of the publick : for it was upon this designe that he engaged himself expressly, making the most exact observations, and collecting the crayons, prints, designes, models and faithful copies of whatsoever could be encountered through the whole circle of the arts and sciences, the laws, and the customs practised, wherever he arrived. .He had already acquired by study a thousand worthy and curious particulars ; he design'd excellently well, understood the mathematicks, had pene- trated into the most curious parts df medicine, and was yet so far from the least pedantry, that he would (when so dispos'd) play the gallant as handsomely as any man, and which indeed he was able to do, enjoy- ing a plentiful revenue of neer three thousand pounds sterling a year, which he ordered to be paid him by Bills of Exchange, wheresoever his curiosity should invite him. But otherwise, truly his equipage was very simple, and his train reduced to only one servant, which he was wont io take in every town where he made any stay. He had already visited Italy, Germany, Poland, Sweden, Denmarke, Holland ?ind England, from whence he came into France, to go into Spain. Finally, he arrived at Paris in Anno 1645, with one Bourdoni, a Sculp- tor, dwelling neer the Thuyleries, where he no sooner appear'd, but he was immediately found out, and known by all the Virtuosi, and as soon 248 inform'd himself of all that were extraordhiary and conspicuous for all sorts of curiosities, whereof he carefully took notice ; but especially he made an intimate acquintance with one Monsieur Petit, a very rare and curious- person, and indeed greatly reserabUng the genius of this noble Gentleman, as being one who for these fifty years past, discover'd a won- derful ardor for the sciences, and a diligence so indefatigable in the re- search of all estimable and worthy inventions, as that it is a thousand pities (and a thing not to be conceived indeed without infinite regret) that this age of ours could never yet approch him. So laudable and worthy of praise has his expenses been upon divers machines and experiments, beyond the forces of a private person, that had he been supported (as at first he was by the French King, and the great Cardinal de Richlieu, under whom he enjoyed divers honourable and handsome employments,, he had perhaps, amongst all the Arts through which he run, found out some abridgements and perfectionv new and altogether stilpendious ; and as indeed he has already done to admiration so far at least, as his discretion and his afikirs would give him leave. But to return to our new Democritus, Signor Favi ; he had made provision of sundry huge volumes, which were no other then the de- signes of all sorts of instruments and machines that he had seen and perused ; besides a world more which he had sent away into Italy : For this curious person neglected nothing, but went on collecting with a most insuperable diligence all that the mechanics had invented for Agriculture, Architecture, and the fabric of all sorts of works, belonging to sports, and to cloathes, for use and for magnificence. There was nothing so small, and to appearance trifling, which he did not cast' his «yes upon, and which he had not some hand in, or improv'd even to the least minutiae ; whether it were a device of some haspe, the latch of a door, a simple lock, the cover or patin of a cup, a dress, &c. even to a very tooth-picker* : so as he shewed no less then two hundred toyes for children to play withall; fourty several wayes of plowing the ground, a world of forges, and mills for various uses. He visited all the * Let not the reader despise this condescention of so great a person, for inest sua gratia ■ parois. 249 excellent workemen and artisans, and took samples, and patterns of all their rare inventions, and something of their making. Then for receits and secFets, hefpossesa'd an infinite number of all kinds the most rare andteKcellent ; some whereof he purchas'd at great prices^ and others he procur'd by exchange. He learned the tongues wherever he came, with extraordinary felicity ; and sometimes would frequent the recreations and exercises of the places where hpecgournedj which he used to performe with a facillity and address so gentile and natural, as if he had yet- been but a very youth: For by ■ this means he found,, that he gained the easier and more free accesse into the best companies, so extreamely noble, diss- intereated and agreable was his fashion and manner of conversation : and though in sundry encounters and courts of princes, he had been frequently regal'd with, very considerable presents, yet would he never receive any from great persons; as chains of gold, and medailles,.diaiinonds and jewels that were offered him, unless happly it were some title of honour and prerogative ; as the permission to bear an eagle or a fleur de lis in his coat of armes, or the like : and when he had thus exhausted a king- dom or a place of all that was curious, and made acquaintance with all the persons of merit in a state, he travell'd presently into another ; so as there was hardly a court to be found, where he had not finished his harvest in three or four months, till he arriv'd at Paris, where indeed he was infinitly supriz'd, and busied among such an innumerable many of able and curious persons of all kinds. He had four lodgings in several parts of Paris, that so he might be neer a retreat in whatsoever quarter he should happen to be in pursuite of curiosities ; for he us'd to go much on foot, and alone, because he would not be troubl'd nor ob- serv'd by impertinent servants : but, in fine, purposing from hence to travell shortly for China by means of the Portugal, he took so much pains about describing and observing the magnificent preparations which were made for the marriage of the Queen of Poland, that he fell sick of a fever and dyed, to the universal regret and sorrow of all that had ever so much as heard of him. And no sooner did this sad accident come to the ears of the king, but he sent diligently to search out all his four lodgings, to see if, by any means, ought of his collection could be 2k' 250 retrlev'd ; but ttiey were all immediately dispers'd, and it was never found what became of them. The Count Marescotti, his kinsman^ then at Paris, recover'd only that single volume wherein was contained, the names, armes, and devises of the hands of all the Princes of Europe, whom he had had the honour to approach : but his intention was, as I have been credibly inform'd by one that did often converse with him (though Monsieur Sorbiere is silent of it) after he had travelled over all the world (for his designe was no lesse ample) at returne into his native country, to compile, and pub- lish a compleat Cycle and History of Trades, with whatsoever else he should judge of use and benefit to mankind :- but this had been a charity and a blessing too great for the world, because It do's not depart from its vices and Impertinences, and cherish such persons, and the virtues which should render it worthy of them; X 251 A TABLE OF THE TITLES OF THE CHAPTERS, AND THEIR SEVERAL CONTENTS. CHAP. I. OF SCULPTURE, HOW DERIV'd, AND DISTINGUISHED, WITH THE STYLES AND INSTRUMENTS BELONGING TO IT. THE CONTENTS. ScoiPTUKA and Ccelatura how they differ 258 ' TomiceB, Desectores what ib. Plaistice, S5S, The Mother of Sculpture 269 Paradigmatice, what 258 Gypsochi, Colaptice, Lithoxoi, Glyphice, what ib. Agogice, what ib. Anaglypkice, 258, its antiquity 269 Diaglyphice, Encolaptice, what 259 Toreutice 258 Encaustic Art, how it occasioned the inven- tion of Brass Prints ib. Proplastic Art, Protypus, Modulus, Diatretice, and Calices diatreti, what 259 Argentum asperum et pttMulatum • ib. Ebur PingUe ib. DimidicB eminentice the same with Basso Re- lievo, and Mezzo Relievo ib. Scalptus, Scaptus, Scalpturatus ib. Scalpo, Sculpo, deriv'd ib. Ccelum Topvos what, and whence deriv'd 260 Tori, ■)(pXKos 260 Ulysses shield, Anceesa Vasa, what ih. Cavatores, what, Grapkatores, whence our English Gravers, Sculpture defin'd 261 Instruments of Graving. Style what. Why sometimes made of bone. Scalprum. Cce' lum, Cceles, Cceltes. Allusions in Job 19 to all kinds of antient Writing and Graving 262 Graphium, y\v^ls, evKoKaTrrrip, vTraytayevs, yXapis, SfiiXri ib. Function, Polisher, Point ib. Graving Instruments sometimes fatal weapons ib. Cassianus martyr'd, and Erixion slain with a Graving Style ' ib. Arare campum cereum, Cerei pugiliares, and stylum vertere, what ib. Taille douce. Burin, Intaglia, Bolino, and the difference 'twixt Graving and Etching ib. BovWa a conjecture of the moderne name of a seal, xnpaoru the same with Charath ib. CHAP. II. OF THE ORIGINAL OP SCULPTURE. THE CONTENTS. Adam the first inventor of Sculpture • 263 Books written by Adam .ib. The fall of Adam did not impair his infused habits 264 Sculpture long before the universal Flood ib. Of the Antediluvian Patriarchs 264 Sculpture in stone and bricic at Joppa ib^ The Celestial Sciences first engraven where, and how'long continuing ib. The books of Seth and Enoch ib. 252 Of Cham 264 Zoroaster, when he flourished, his learning, , curiosity and engraving of the Liberal Arts ib. Picus Mirandula's pretence of the books of Zoroaster, the Magi, &c. 265 Sculpture after the Flood ib. Sculpture propagated by Noah. Sculpture before Moses ib. Objections answered 266. 268 Mercurius Trismegistus engraved in stone many mysterious things 265 Obelisks erected by Misra 400 years before Moses ib. How many transported to Rome 266 The Tables of Stone engraven by the Finger of God. Sculpture honoured by God ib. Sculpture abus'd to Idolatry no rational pre- judice ib. Sculpture elder then Idolatry ib. Teraphimand Penates, what ib. Sculpture. preserv''d the memory of the dead ib. Bezaleel and Aholiab Sculptors ib. The Sacerdotal Pectoral ib. Graving us'd by the ^Egyptians before they invented Letters ib. Hieroglyphics, what ib. By whom interpreted ib. Amongst the Danes 273 And AcadicB 275 HorapoUinis notee 266 ib. ib. ib. Letters, by whom invented, and the contest about it 266 How they were derived to the several Nations 267 Typographical art mistaken by Peter Calaber ib. Sculpture and Letters Coevous ib. Columns erected by Seth Writing with ink in paper a novelty in re- spect of Parchment Sculpture on Marbles, Slates, writing on Bark, Leaves, Tablets of Wood, Paper, linnen. Wax, Ivory and Silk Book, our English name for Liber, whence deriv'd ib. Laws, divine and humane how consign'd of old 268 Hieronicce, and where preserv'd ib. Writings before Homer's not known to the Greeks Tatian, when he flourished A passage cited out of him proving the An- tiquity of recording by Sculpture Hesiod's Poems engraven in Lead Grecians, when they had Sculpture first, and where it was in its highest perfection Achilles and Hercules shields engraven 269 The Chariot of the Sun, and Vehieula Ccelata ib. Enoch's prophecy ib. Rings engraven, their use and dignity ib, Intaglias in Iron, Gold, Stones, &c. ib. Talismans and Constellated Sculptures ib. ib. ib. ib. ib. CHAP. 111. OF THE REPUTATION AND PROGRESS OF SCULPTURE AMONGST THE GREEKS AND ROMANS DOWN TO THE MIDDLE AGES; WITH SOME PRETENTIONS TO THE INVENTION OF COPPER CUTS, AND THEIR IMPRESSIONS. THE CONTENTS. Sculpture where, and when in its ascendent'270, 272 Statues, to what head-reducible 270 Sculptores Marmoris, Metal, in Gypsum, &c. ib. Signa at Rhodes, Athens, and other places in what prodigi(Wis> numbers ib. Statues, almost as many as of men ib. The contest betwixt Art and Nature, in point of fertility jj. Statues, improveable to a politiq, as well as expencefull magnificency ib. A'KO(rpayt&fiaTa 271 253 ib. ib. ib. ib. Pyrgoteles only permitted to engrave the EflSgies of Alexander the Great 27 1 The Pictures of Queen Elizabeth and other Princes, how profan'd and abus'd Augustus would have his figure cut only by Dioscorides, and why Sculpture, in what materials most eminent Dipoenus, Prometheus, Ideoeus, Eucirapus, Lysistratus, Demophilus, Daedalus, Leo- chares, Policarmus, Myrmecides, all fa- mous Sculptors Figulina vasa Ccelata, why broken by Cotys 272 HydricB engraven, and Bread ib. Gold seldom engraven, and why ib. Mentor, his curious works ib. Acragus, his works ib. Boethus's Masterpieces ib. The works of Calamis, Antipater, Stratonicus Tauriscus, Aristeus, Eunicus, Hecates, Praxiteles, Posidonius, Ledus, Zopyrus, Pytheus , ib. Medalists, who most excellent, and in what Emperor's times the best were cut ; when they degenerated 273 Sculpture, when it degenerated in Greece, and Rome ib. And whence its decay proceeded 273 Sculpture, when it arrived at Rome 273 Sculpture and Writing when first among the Danes and Norvegians ib. Runic, Characters ib. Grcef-scBx, what ih. Vice and Avarice, the occasion why Sculp- ture degenerated, and is not since arrived to the perfection of the Ancients 274 By what means it may recover ih. Alexander MagnuSj Augustus, Francis I. Cosimo di Medices, and Charles the V. celebrated for their affection to Arts ih. Time and leisure required to bring a work to perfection ib. Sculpture and Chalcography antient in China, on what materials, and how wrought 275 Letters in Europe first cut in wood ih. The Ink -maker for the press dignified amongst the Chinese with a liberal salary, and priviledges, and not accounted a Me- chanic ib. Sculpture found in Mexico, and other parts of America ib. Typography not found out by the Greeks and Romans to be much wondered at, and why ib. CHAP. IV. OF THE INVENTION AND PROGRESSE OF CHALCOGRAPHY IN PARTICU- LAR ; TOGETHER WITH AN AMPLE ENUMERATION OF THE MOST RENOWNED MASTERS AND THEIR WORKS. THE CONTENTS. Engraving on Plates of Brass for Prints, when first appearing ■ 276 Typography, when first produc'd in Europe ib. Prints, in the infancy of this Art ib. The Devil at Monochrom ib. M. M. G. what they import ib. What Sculptors added the year of our Lord to theit works ib. Who were the first Gravers of Prints ib. Martin Schoen -. TheTodesco | of the first Print-gravers ib. The Italian Gravers and their works 277 Maso Finiguerra, the first Print-graver in Italy ib. Enamelling gave the first hint for the engrav- ing of Prints ib. 254 The- Graving of Prints, from how mean a commencement, arrived to this perfection 277 Baccio Baldini, his works, and countersign ih. Albert Durer, when he flourished, his incom- parable works ; contest with Lucas, and Mark Antonio, and how pretious his works ib. Lucas Van Leyden, his works, emulation of Durer 278 Mark Antonio, when he flourish'd, his works, contestation with Albert, &c. ib. For what vile prints reproved 281 Raphael Urbin, how he honoured the gravings of M. Antonio 279 Martine of Antwerp, his works, how esteem'd by Michael Angelo 277 R. S. what it signifies 280 Mai CO di Ravenna, his works ib. A. V. I. what it imports ib. Giovanni Battista Mantuano, his works 281 I. B. M. whose name it signifies 283 Sebastiano da Reggio's works ib, Georgio Mantuano's works ib. Etching in Aqua Fortis when first produced ib. Damascus Symeters - ib. Ugo da carpi, his new manner of cutting for divers colours, and his works ib. The works of Baldassare Peruzzi, Francisco Parmegiano, Beccafumi, Baptista Vicen- tino, Del Moro, Girolamo Cocu 282. 283 Giacomo del Cavaglio his works both in cop- per and stones 283 Eneas Vico de Parma, his Medails and other Gravings ib. The works of Lamberto Suave, Gio Battista de Cavaglieri ib. The works of Antonio Lanferri, Tomaso Bar- , lacchi, Antonio Labbaco, Titian, Giulio Buonasoni, Battista Franco, Renato, Luca Penni, Francisco Marcolini 283-4 The works of Gabriel Giolito, Christophero Coriolano, Antonio Salamanca, Andrea Mantegna, Propertia de Rossi (a sculp- tress) 984-5 Martin Rota, Jacomo Palma, And: Mantu- ana, Augustino and Annibal Carraeci 285 The works of Francisco Villamena 286 Giovanni Maggi, Leonardo, Isabella and Bernardino Parasol 283 Cutting and Engraving in Wood how difficulty and different from Chalcography ib. The works of Antonio Tempesta, Cherubino Alberti ib. Horatio Borgiani, Raphael Guido, Jovanni Batt. della Marca, Camillo Graffico, Ca- valier Salirabene, Anna Vaiana 288 Steffano della Bella ib. Chart and Map-gravers 309 Medaile Gravers, and Gravers in metal and pretious stones, &c. 289 The Diamond, by whom first engraven 290 Medails, the knowledge of them how noble and profitable, and by what means to at- tain it effectually. Gentleman of note skil- ful Medallists ii^ The German and Flemish Chalcographers, and their works -ib. The v/orks of Albert Durer 277> &c. Aldegrave and his cypher, Hans Sibald Be- ham his mark, 291. Jerom Cock, Francis Floris, Cornelius Cort, 292. Justus, 5o. jEgid, Giles and Raphael Sadelers,"292. Herman Muller, 293. Sim. Frisius, Matr thew Miriam, ib. Hans Holbein, Justus Am- mannus Tigur, 294. Holtzhusen, Hans Brossehaemer, Virgilius Solis, whose eyes . were put out for his lewd gravings ; Hen. Goltzins, Geor. Nouvolstell, Matt, and Fred. Greuter, Saenredamus, Cor. Galle, Count Goudt, Swanevelt, Pandern, Bron- chorst, P. Brill, Mathara, Nieulant, Boeti- us, Londerselius, Van Velde, N. de Bruyn, ^g. Coninxlogensis, 294, 295. Strada- nus, Mallery, Bolswert, P. Pontius, Swan- nenbourg, Nesse, Vosterman, Vorst, 296. Clir. Jegher 297 Van Vorst, Sir Anthony Van Dyie ib. Sir P. P. Rubens celebrated ih. The works of P. de Jode, Collaert in steel'; Suyderhoef, Jo. Baur, Vander Thulden, Abr. and Corn. Blomaert, Natalis, 298. Ferdinand, Uriesse, Verdin, Winegard, W. Hondius, Van Kessell, Caukern, Lucas 255 Eilianus, Cor. Vischerj Yovillemoht, 299. Nolp, Lombart, Hertocks, Rembrandt, WincesU Holiar, 300. Hevelius cele- brated, Anna. Maria h. Schurman cele- brated, Breughel, Ostade, Clock, Que- borne, Gustos, Le Delfe, Dors, Falck,. . Gerard, Moestuer, , Grebber, Geldorp, Hopfer, Gerard, Chein, Ach, tl'Egmont, De Vinghe, Heins, Dltmer, Cronis, Lin- doven, Mirevel, Kager, Coccien, Mau- bease, Venius, Firens, Pierets, Quelinus, Stachade, Schut, Soutman, Vanulch,, Broon, Valdet, Loggan, . Biscop, Druef- ken, P. Van Aelst, Swart Jan Van Groen- nighen, L. Cranach, Jos. Ammanus, Hub. Goltzius 301, 302 The French Chalcographers and their works: when they begaiL to be in reputa- . tion 303 ad 309 Tiie works of P. Bernard, Nic Beatrice, Phil. Thomasinus, Crispinus, . Magdalen, . and Simon de Pas, 303. Claudius Melan, , Mauperch, La Pautre, Morin, N. Chape- ron, Fra. Perrier, Audran, Couvay, Pe- relle, 304. Chauveau, Poilly, Heince, Beg- non, Huret, Bernard, Rognesson, Rousse- let, Bellange, Richet, L'Alman, Quesnel, Soulet, Bunel, Boucher, Briot, Boulange, Bois, Champagne, Charpignon, Corneille, , Caron, CI. de Lorain, Audran, Moutier, Rabel,. Denisot, L'Aune, De la Rame^ Hayes, Herbin, David de Bie, Villemoot, Marot, Toutin, Grand-homrae, Cereau, Trochel, Langot du Loir, L'Enfant, Gaul- tier, .D'Origni,'.Prevost, De Son, Perei, Nacret, Perret, Daret, Scalberge, Vibert, R;agot, Boissart, Terelin, De Leu, Mau- perch, L'Ashe, Huret 3D5 Calligraphers ib. The works of La Hyre,. Goyrand. Colig- non, Cochin, Isr. Sylvester, Rob. Nantg- uil, 306. Jaq. Callot, 307. Abr. Bosse 309 Chart Gravers : Cordier Riviers, Peroni, Bleau, Gomboust ib. The English Chalcographers and their works, viz. Paine, Cecil, Wright, Faithorne, Bar- low, Gaywood, Lightfoot, Glover,- J. Fel- lian, Switzer, 309, 310 Medaile Gravers, and for Intaglias, Simon, Rawlins, Restrick, Johnson 310 Calligraphers, Coker, Gray, Gething, Bil- lingly, &c. ib. , An Invitation to the English Chalcographers to publish his Majesties collection ; the be- nefit and honour of it ib. The Landskips, Views, Palaces, of Eng- land, ' Levantine parts, Indies, &c. toge- ther with the Cities, Isles, Trees, Plants, Flowers, and Animals, to be cut in Cop- per and reformed, were a most accept- able and useful work 31 1 Painters encouraged to set their hands to the Graver ib. The use of this Collection ib. CHAP. V. OF DRAWING, AND DESIGNE PREVIOUS TO THE ART OF CHALCOGRA- PHY; AND OF THE USE OF PICTURES IN ORDER TO THE EDUCA- TION OF CHILDREN. THE CONTENTS. Measure and proportion have Influence on all our Actions 312 A saying of Thomas Earfe of Arundel and Surrey »S- Drawing, of what consequence to the Art of Graving 313 Designe the basis of Sculpture, and of many other free and noble Sciences ib. 256 Original Drawings esteemed, and for what 313 Antiquity, of what effect ih, Designe and Drawing defin'd, and distin^ guish'd, its antiquity, and invention ib. Accident and chance fruitful mothers 314 Drawing with crayon, pen, &c. the method, and how to be performed with successe ib. Hatching, what and how attained by imitat- ing good Masters, and by what method ib. Overmuch exactness and finishing, a fault in Drawing, and why :. Polycletus's Cannon 315 Accurate Designes with the pen not esteem'd, and why, 315. Who yet excelled in them to admiration 316 Vander Douse, Francis and John Cleyn, Francis Carter, &c. celebrated ib. Colours, the production of a middle colour wrought on two extreams ib. Rubens, and Van Dykes first studies in Italy 317 Drawing, how necessary ib. Academies erected for the Virtuosi, by whom ib. For what purpose, and how furnished ib. Greeks, and Romans, how they cherish'd and enobled men of Art ib. Sculptors and Painters chief of the Court and retinue to the Emperour of Japan ib. Courts of great Princes, how formerly com- posed 318 How the antient and most renowned Sculp- tors were some encouraged, and others obscured ib. Painters should sometimes draw with the pen 319 What Painters made use of prints jfi. And caused their works to be published ib. How to express the sensation of the Re- lievo or Extancie of objects, by the Hatches in Graving 330 What shadows are most graceful 323 And what Artists works best to imitate ib. Of Counter-Hatches ib. One colour, the use, and effect of it ib. Zeuxis used but one colour ib. What other Painters were Monochromists, and who introduced the rest of the co- lours . ib. Lights and shades, their stupendous effects 323 Colored, what it means ib. The invention of Chevalier Woolson to Bla- zon bearings in coate-armour by hatches without letters ib. Tonus, what it imports in Graving 324 Of copying after designes and painting ib. What Prints are to be called excellent ib. How to detect the copy of a Print from an Original print ib. Aqua Fortis, for what Gravings most proper 325 His Highness Prince Rupert celebrated, and the Gravings by him published ib. The French King an Engraver ib. Earle of Sandwich dextrous at Graving ib. What Emperours, Philosophers, Poets, and other of the noble Greeks and Romans ex- celled in painting and Graving ib. Never any of the Antients excelled in these Arts, but what were Gentlemen ' 326 A Slave might not be taught to Grave or Paint, and why ib. Graving accounted one of the Liberal Arts by Pliny and Galen ib. Children instructed in the Graphical arts for what Oeconomick consideration ib, Martia, the daughter of Varro, the Princesse Louise, and Anna Schurman celebrated ib. Great scholars of late skilfuU in the art of Graving, &c. ib. How far the art of Drawing conduces to the Sciences Mathematical ib. Dr. Ch. Wren, Blagrave, Hevelius, &c. ce- lebrated 327 An Orator ought to be skilled in these Arts, and why ib. Of what great use and benefit the art of Graving may be to the Education of Child- ren, superiour to all other inventions, 326, and how 339 The Abbot de Marolles, his singular affection to, and prodigious collections of Prints 327 Prints more estimable than Paintings, and why 328 What Gentlemen of quality are the greatest collectors of prints in France H, 257 At how high rates the Prints of the most fa- mous Masters are now sold 328 Collections of Prints recommended to Princes and great persons, and why 329 An Hieroglyphical Grammar ib. By whom Draughts and Prints are celebrat- ed fqr the Institution of Youth ib. LaMartelay taught all the Sciences by cuts alone ib. Commenius his Orbis sensualium pictus cele- brated 330 The Universal Language, how to be most probably accomplished ib. Passions expressible by the art of Designe 331 An useful caution for the Lovers of these Arts 332 CHAP. VI. OF THE NEW WAY OF ENGRAVING, OR MEZZO TINTO, INVENTED AND COMMUNICATED BY HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE RUPERT, &C. THE CONTENTS. An advantageous Commutation for omitting the description of the Mechanical part of the vulgar Graving 333 A paradoxical Graving without Burin, Points or Aqua Fortis ib. The new Mezzo Tinto, invented by his High- ness P. Rupert, aenigmatically described, and why 334 *»* The additions mthin [ ] are taken from the margin of the Author s printed Copy, communicated by Sir John Evelyn, Bart, and were prefixed to the second edition, printed in 1755 • AUTHORS AND BOOKS WHICH HAVE BEEN CONSULTED FOR THIS T&EiATISE.. iElianus. Alberti Leon. Angelus Rocca. Aquinas. Aristotle. S. Augustinus. Ausonius. L.Baptista Alberti. Biblia Saci'a. Bibliander. Bosse A. Caneparius. Cassianug. Cedrenus. Cicero. Comenius. Crinitus. Curtius, Cyprianus. Diodorus. Diomedes. DonatUs. Durer, Alb. Epiphanius. Eusebius. Gaffarell. Galenus. Gorlseus. Guarinus. Greuter. Herodotus. Hesiodus. Homerus. Horatius. Josephus. Junius F. Juvenal is. Kircherus. Laet, Joh. de. Libanius. Licetus. Littleton, Adam. Livius. Lubinus. Lucanus. Luitprandus. Maimonides, Manutius. Marblles. Martialis. Mirandula Picus, Nazianzen Greg. Origines. Ovidius. Pancirollus. Petronius. Philo. Pbilosteatus. Pietro Santo. Plato. 2 L Plinius. Plutarchus. Pois, Ant. le. Pollux, Jul. Pomponius Laetus. Prudentius. Quintilianus. Rhodiginus Csel. Hue, Ch. de la, Sabinus. Salmasius. Scaliger, Jos. Semedo. Seneca. Solinus. Statins. Suetonius. Suidas ' Tacitus. T4tianusi TertuUianUs. Theocritus. Trallianus. Trismegislus. ■Thucydides. Varenius. Varro. Vassari. -Vatablus. Vermander, Car. Verulamius. Virgilius. ~ Vitruviufe. Vopiseus. Vossitts, Worraitis. WottoH, Si* H. 258 SCULPT U R A; OR THE HISTORY AND ART OF CHALCOGRAPHY. BOOK I. CHAPTER I. OF SCULPTURE, HOW DERIv'd, AND DISTINGUISh'd WITH THE STYLES, AND INSTRUMENTS BELONGING TO IT. Those who have most refined and criticiz'd upon Technical notions, seem to distinguish what we commonly name Sculpture into three seveiial arts; and to attribute specifical differences to them all: for there is, besides Sculptura (as it relates to Chalcography) Scalptura (so Diomiedes*) and Ccelatura ; both which, according to Quintilian f , differ from the first ratione materice. For to make but a brief enume- ration only: it was'apply'd to several things; as to working in wood, or ivory, tomice, the artists, desectores : in clay, plastice, plastce : in playster, paradigmatice, the workmen gt/psochii In stone cutting colaptice, the artists lithoxoi; and lastly, in metals glyphice ; which again is two-fold ; for if wax be us'd, agogice ; if the figure be of cast-work, chemice ; anaglyphice, when the image was prominent ; diaglyphice, when hollow, as in scales and intaglias; encolaptice, when lesse deep, as in plates of brasse for lawes and monumental inscrip- tions : then the toreutice X ; and the encaustic for a kind of enamel ; proplastice forming the future work, ex creta, or some such matter, as * Lib. 1. t Lib. 3. c. 51. 9. J Gael. Rodig. Antiq. Lect. 1. 29. c. 34. 259 ihe protypus was of wax for efformation, and the modulus of wood ; not to omit the antient diatretice, which seems to have been a work upon chrystal, and the calices diatreti (of which somewhere the Poet Martial) * whether emboss'd or engraven, as now with the point of a diamond, &c. ; for I can onely name them briefly : the field would be too luxurious to discourse upon them severally ; and as they rather con- cern the statuary art, fusile and plastic head, which would serve better to adorne some designe of architecture, or merit an expresse treatise, then become the present, which does only touch the metalls, and such other materials as had not the figure finished through all its dimen- sions ; though we might yet safely I think admit some of the Greek anaglyptics : argentum asperum et pustulatum, and, as the Latines terme it, ebur pingue : for so the Voet, Ewpositumque alt^ pingue poposcit ebur, 8j-c. f Manutius calls them dimidice eminentice, and the Italians do well interpret by basso and mezzo-relievo; hence the figure is said stare, or exstare : for so Mart, stat caper, and Juvenal, stantem extra pocula caprum. As from the similitude and perfection of the work, vivere, spirare, calere, it seemed to breath, and be living, as Virgil expresses it, Excudent alii spirantia moUius aera. — ^n. vi. 848. And Horace, Et ungues Exprimet, Sc poUes imitabitur sere capillos. — Ars Poet. 32. Ludit Acidalio, sed non manus aspera, nodo Candida n,on tacita respondet imagine Lygdos, — Martial, l. 6. 13. For in this manner they us'd to celebrate those rare pieces of art, distinct from the diagliphice and encolaptice, more properly according with our purpose; and which may happly be as well express'd by cce- laturd,- and from the signification made a derivative dm t5 (rKaTrrnv to dig, or make incision. I think Varro may have scaptus ioT ccelatus; as Cicero scalptus, and Plinie scalpturatus ; yet we rather follow them who derive scalpo, scuVpo, ivova ykojpta and yKxx^ta', because the best origination is to preserve the foundation in the antienter languages, if the mutation of letters be warranted, as here in y^oL^u scriho. The * Lib. xiv, Epig. 94. edit. Schrevelii, L. Bat. 1670. t Mart. Epig. Lib, ix.60. 260 word in the Holy tongue WlD, which imports an opening (because the plate, stone, or whatever else material they vised, aperitur aiiqua sui parte, somewhere opened when any thing is engraven upon it) attests rather to the former etymon and signification, then to any other mate-* rial affinity; besides that 'tis also transferable to those who carve with the chissel, or work in bosse with the puntion, as our statuaries, gold- smiths and repairers do. In the glosse we meet with ccelum ro^vog, &c. which though some admit not so freely in this sence ; yet Martial,* speaking of emboss'd cups, more then once calls them toreumata. Miratus fueris cum prisca toreumata multum. And why may not the tori, brawn, or coUops of fat be expressed by these raised figures, and they torosce, plump, and (as the French has it) en bon point, as well as fusil and fictile ones? some round chissel or lathe perhaps it was; but we dare only conjecture. Others ccelum, a ctBdo, which is to beat, strike, cut or dig; but by what parallel autho- rity of such a derivative we know not : Varro -f" yet e coelo heaven it self, reaching its original from the very stars. XoTKog is another, more consonant and harmonious with the antient vhp halangh, which imports to excavate and make hollow, as it is frequently interpreted, particularly 1 Reg. 6. 32, 35, where, what the vulgar Latine renders sculpsit, Vatablus makes ceelavit, and Junius incidit, best of all cor- responding with our purpose; and so in the famous wrought shield which Ulysses .purchased by his eloquence, Quintilian J applies the word, In ccelatura clypei jdchillis et lites sunt et actiones : for so it seems to have been much used on their harnesse. Livy reports of two famous armies so represented § : or as more allusive yet to our plate, where 'tis said, ccelatura rumpit tenuem lajninam, if the question be not rather, whether these works, like the anccesa vasa, were not rais'd and emboss'd, those expressions of Plinie so much favouring their emi- nency, where he tells us, speaking of this very art, ita exolevit, ut sola Jam vetmtate censeatur, usque adeo attritis ccelaturis, ne Jigura dis- cerni possit, time and age had so greatly defac'd them. But this may suffice for the division and denomination of the art in * Lib. viii. 6. f Varro 1. 4. de Ling. Lat. J Lib. 2. c. 18. § Liv. hist. 1. 9. 261 geoferal; since the title which we have niade choice of is universally applicable : for so loquendi Gonmetudine, in ordinary discourse, Scvdp^ tura and Scalptura import but one and the same thing, as Salmasius has well noted on Solinus ; and therefore those who wrought any of these hollow cut-woriss were by some eall'd Caz7a^ore5 and Gmphatpr^, sayes that learned person, whence doubtless our Gravers may have deriv'd their appellation. By this then it will not be difficult for any to define what the art it self is ; whether consider'd in the most general and comprehensive acceptation ; or, as it concernes that of Chalcography chiefly, and such as have most affinity with it; since (as well as the rest) it may be describ'd to be an art which takes away all that is superfluous of the subject matter, reducing it to that forme or body which was design'd in the idea of the artist: and this, as sufficiently universal; unless in favour of the plastic (which yet does not come under our cognizance) we will rather receive the distinction which Michael Anfi-elo was us'd to observe between them, that this last was made by apposition, which is quite the contrary. But indeed neither the paradigmatic, agogic, or any of the plastic, can genuinely, and in propriety of speech be call'd Sculpture, without a catachresis and some violence ; since, nullum simi- le est idem, whether applied to the matter or the tools. And now we speak of instruments we shall find that there has been little less controversie amongst the grammarians, touching them also, then con- cerning the very art itself : as whether the yXvquov stylus, or scalprum, is to be call'd ccelum, cmles, or ceeltes; noted by the critics from that text in 19 Job. Quis mihi det, ut exarentur in libro stylo ferreo, aut plumbi hmrnm, vel ccelte sculpantur in silice ? (where by the way, 'tis observ'd, that this verse comprehends and alludes to almost all the sorts of ancient writing and engraving : books, plates, stone, and stile,) and from an old inscription out of Aldus and Gruter. Martial, Auso- nius, and the poet Statius use ccelum frequently. — — Laberiferi vivant quae raarmora caelo ' Praxitelis, &c. * But we will be sparing. rXoipij, yXixpuov, yKv^uyov, as Junius : also * Sylv. lib. 4. vi. 26. 262 eyKoXxTTT^o, v'ffayuysug,Xa,^svT'^piov, as much as (ri^^iov XtOov^yw* ', so is yXa^i^ and XeTov in Pollux. Scalprum is KOTrevg, ^ua-T'^p ; with the same Junius grapMum. Lastly, stylus ypaA)Gorlseus, or Fortun. 'L compounds this ink for thie piidsse,- is not accounted amongst the mechanic professors ; but is dig- Eaf;^d with' a liberal salary, and particular priviledges. They also engrave uponi stone, and imprint with it ; but with this difference in the worfcing-off, that the p£^er being black the Sculpture remains white. More admirable is that whiehthey attest was fouiid in Mexico and other places of the new Worldj where they hieroglyphiz'd both their thoughtis, histories, and inventions to posterity,,nbt much unlike to the Egyptians, though in lesse durable and permanent maiterf: the same likewise Jo. Laet afiBrmes of the Sculpture among the Acadise, and those of Nova Firancia ; so natural!(it seems) and useful was this art, everi to the least civilized amongst the Heath^isi. And there is indeed nothing at which * Hist. Chin, part. 1. cap. 7- t Several curious specimens -are engraved in the " Voyage de Humboldt et Bonpland." Folio. Paras, 1810. 276 we more admire, and deplorej then that this facile and obvious inven- tion ; and which would have transmitted to us so many rare and admir- able things, was never hit upon among the Greeks and inventive B.omans, who engrav'd so many inscriptions both in brasse and marble ; impressed and publish'd so many thousands of medails and coynes as are in the hands and collections of the virtuosi, and the bowels of the earth, wherever their conquests extended themselves, or eagles dis- play'd their wings. CHAP. IV. OF THE INVENTION AND PROGRESSE OF CHALCOGRAPHY IN PAR- TICULAR, TOGETHER WITH AN AMPLE ENUMERATION OF THE MOST RENOWNED MASTERS, AND THEIR WORKES. ^ ... The Art of Engraving and working off from plates of copper, which we call Prints, was not yet appearing or born with us till about the year 1490, which was near upon, 50, years after Typography had been found out by John Guittemberg ; or whoever that lucky person were (for 'tis exceedingly controverted)^ that first produc'd the inven- tion. There is a collection of antient Offices adorned with several Sculptures (if so we may terme those wretched Gravings in the infancy of this Art) where the Devil is but one great blot (as indeed he is the foulest of the Creation) and the rest of the figures monochroms as ridiculous and extravagant ; though still as, the invention grew older, refining and improving upon it. One of the antientest Gravings which we have seew, to which any mark is oppos'd, hath M. 3. and M. C. in one of the corners of the plates; and it was long that they used the initial letters of their names only,- and sometimes but one, as in those of Lucas. Albert Durer did frequently add the year of the Lord, and his own age from ten to fourteen, &c. performing such things as might shame most of the best masters, for the true and steady design,' the incomparable proportion, and stroke of his graver. But Israel, Martin Schoen, and the Todesco (who is by some sirnamed the Master of the Qandlestick, because of tlie foulnesse of his ink) were of the very first, as far as we can collect, who published any works of this kind under 277 tfeeir. names, wrought off by the roUing-presse, and whose slender attempts gave encouragement to those who have succeeded. George Vasari, who has been exceedingly curious in this enquiry, attributes the first invention of this art to one Maso Finiguerra, a Flbr-^ entine, about anno 1460, which exceeds our former computation .by thirty years ; but then we are to consider by what progresse and degrees, for it was first only in silver, to fill with a certain encaustic or black enamel, which it seems gave him the first hint how to improve it in plates of brass, which having engraved, he did onely fume, taking off the impression with a moyst paper and a rolling pin. This mean com^ mencement was yet afterwards pursu'd by Baccio Baldini, a Goldsmith, his countryrman, whose works coming to the sight of Andrea Mantegna in Rome, invited that great painter to give him some deslgnes of his own for his encouragement ; and from thence it travell'd into Flanders to one Martine of Antwerp, whose works (as we observ'd} were usually countersign'd with M. the first whereof were the Five wise and Jive foolish VirginSf and a Crucifix, which was so well cut that Gerardo, a Florentine Painter, would needs copy it. After this he published his Four Fvangelists ; our Saviour and the Twelve Apostles ; a Veronica, S. George; Christ before Pilate, a.uA\Assumption of the JB. Virgin, one of the rarest that ever he did ; besides that St. Anthonies Tempr tation, which was so well performed that Michael Angelo (exceed >- ingly ravished with it) would needs wash it over with his own hands. The next that > appeared of note was the formerly , mention'd and renowned Albert Durer, who flourished about the year 1503, and who had performed wonders both in copper and wood, had he once fortun'd upon the least notion of that excellent manner which came afterwards to be in vogue, of giving things their natural distances and agreeable sweetnesse, the defect of which SirH. Wotton does worthily perstringe both in him and some others*. But to proceed ; Albert being very young, set forth Our Lady ; mme designes oi JSorses after the life; the Prodigal i S. Sebastian, in little; & Nymph ravished by a Mon^^ ster ; a Woman on Horseback; Diana chastising a. Nymph whofties * Elements of Architecture. 4to. 1624. 2/8 to a Sutler for protection^ In which he discovered his admirable talent and skill in expressing nudities ; a Countiyman and Woman playing on bagpipes, with Poultry y &^c. about diem ; Venus or the Temptation of the Stove ; his two St. Christophers, rare cuts. After that, he engraved several stamps in wpo^j proof whereof he gave in the decol- lation of St. Jo. Baptist with Herodias ; Pope Sixtus ; St. Stephem; Lazarus ; St. George ; a Passion in great ; the La>st Swpiper ; Christ's apprehension in the Garden ; Descent into Limbo, and Resurrections i with eight ,more prints of this subjject, which are held to be spurious. All th^e he published anno 1510. The year following he set forth the Life of Our Lady, in twenty sheets, rarely conducted ; the ^pocalyps in fifteen sheets, of which the Painters have made sufficient use j Chrisi hem&anvng our sins. Then applying himself to grave in copper again, he published his Mehnc^oMa, three different Mmdonas, with, thirty pieces besides concerning the Passiom;. aijd which being afterwards imitated by that rare Artist Marca Antonio (who had. procuu'd them ai Venice) and published for originals (so exactly it seems they were per- form'd) did so insense Albert, that he made a journey to Venice ex- presly to complain, of the injury to the Senate, and obtain'd at laist, that M. Antonio should no more be permittedi to set his mark or plagia^ which was all he could procure of them. Another emulator of Albert's was Lucas van Leyden, whom at his returne into Germany, he found had well neer overtaken him for the sweetnesse of his burine, though something inferiour of deagn : such were a Christ heamng the Crosse, and another of his Crucificaion ; Sampson; David, on a Hor&e ; Mar- tyrdome of S. Peter,; Saul and David; the Slhughter of Goliah; the Famous- Piper ; Virgil's, and some other heads; all which works did so inflame his antagonist Alberty. that in a laudable re v^ige he ^\ih]ish.'dhiBjirm'd CaViulier, or Dream, in which the brightnesse and lustre of the armour and horse is rarely conducted. Then in the year 1512 he set forth- siss- other small stories of tha Posmon, which Lucas also imitated, though hardly reach'd J Then a. /S. George; Solomon's Idolatry ; ike Baptisme of our Lord; Pyramws andThisMe; Aha<- suerus afnd Hester, ^-e. These again incited Albert- to publish- that Temperantia, whom he elevates above the clouds, S. Eustathius and 279 the Hart, a most incomparable cu*; his Death' » Head in a ScutcheoHi ajftd several German Cmtes full of rare «iau»tli«gs affld invention. Also S, Mi^ram, a Christ and twelve Aposties in small : anno 1523, many heads, as that of Erasmus, Co^rdmed a sculptor of Florence, .who caus'd him to grave his Antonitis and Cleopatra, very rare things, with divers other designs ;- as the Slaughter of the Innocents, divers Nudities, 2ixi^ Clad Figures ; not to omit those excellent and incom- parable drawings and paintings of Andrea del Sarto, after which he graved ; though In the Christo mortuo not altogether succeeding so well as had been vsdshed. But to come again to Marco Antonio, because there is not a paper of his to be lost. After Raphael's death did Julio Romano publish, some of his own deslghes in print. I say after his death, for before, though he were an excellent painter, yet durst he never take the boldness upon him. Such were the Duel of Horses ; a Venus, which he had formerly painted ; the Penance of Mary Magdalen ; the Four Evangelists; and some bassi relievi, with many things that Raphael had design'd for the Corridor of the Vatican, and which were afterwards retouched by Tomaso Barlacchi. We will not contaminate this discourse with those twenty vile designes of Jiillo, cut by M. Antonio, and celebrated with the Im- pure verses of Peter Aretino, by which he so dishonour'd this excellent art, as well as himself, because it deserved a severer animadversion and chastisement then was indicted upon him for it ; though to commute for this extravagancy, he publish'd the Martyrdom of St. Laurence, in which he also reformed those designes of Baccio Bandlnelli to the great reputation of the art of Chalcography. About the same time flourlsh'd GiouannI Battista Mantuano, disciple 2o 282 of Julio Romano, who published a Madona, his armed Mars and Venus ; the Burning of Troy, an extraordinary piece (his prints are usually sign'd LB. M.); also his three sheets of BdttaUs, cut by some other hand, a Physitian applying of Cupping-glasses to a JVoman ; Christ's Journey into JEgypt ; Romulus and Rhefnus; the Stories of Pluto, Jupiter and Neptune; the Miseries of Imprisonment ; Int^r^ view of the Armies of Scipio and Hannibal ; St. John Baptist's Na- tivity, cut by Sebastiano de Reggio, all after Julio Romano. Giorgio Mantuano set forth the Facciata of the Pope's chappel ; M. Angelo's Judgement ; St. Peter's Martyrdome ; the Conversion of St. Paul, &c. ; and some plates were sent abroad about the year 1530, eaten with aqua fortis after Parmesano ; for, as ah cere, deventum ad Tabular ceratas in writing, the use of, the Palimpsestus, table books, plumhce lamellce and the like ; so happened it also in this art of Chal- cography ; and etching with corrosive waters began by some to be attempted with laudable success, as in this recital we shall frequently have occasion to remember: but whether those symeters and blades brought us from Damascus, and out of Syria, and wrought with these strong waters, might giv6 any light to this expeditious and useful in- vention, we are not yet inform'd ; and the effect was suflScientlv ob- vious after that of the burine had been well considered. Ugo da Carpi did things in stamp which appear'd as tender as any drawings, and in a new way of chiaro-scuro, or mezzo-tinto, by the help of two plates, exactly conter-calked, one serving for the shadow, the other for the heightning ; and of this he publish'd a Sybilla after Ra- phael, which succeeded so rarely well, that he improv'd the curiosity to three colours ; as his JEneas and Anchises, Descent from the Cross, story of Symon Magus, a David after the same Urbin, and a Venus, do testifie. This occasioned many others to imitate him, as in particular, Baldassare Peruzzi, who graved the Hercules, Parnassus, and the Muses; and Francisco Parmegiano, who having set out Diogenes in this guise, a very rare print, instructed Antonio di Trento in the art, who published his Peter and Paul in chiaro-obscuro, the Tyburtine Syhill, and a Madona; but none was there who exceeded those of Bee- 283 cafumi, especially his two Apostles in wood, and the Alchemist \n aqua fortis. Fran. Parmegiano (whom we already mentioned) may be esteemed for one of the first that brought the use of aqua-fortis into reputation ; so tender and gracefull were some of his etchings, as appears in that rare Descent of the Cross, Nativity, and several other pieces. Baptista Vicentino and Del Moro set forth many curious landskips, Girolamo Cocu, the Liberal Sciences, &c. Giacomo del Cavaglio cut many things after Rosso Fiorentino, as the Metamorphosis of Saturn into a Horse ; the Rape of Proserpine ; Antcminus and the Swan ; some of the Herculean Labours ; a book of the Gods and their Transformations, whereof part are after Perino del Vaga ; also the Rape of the Sabines, an incomparable print, had it been perfect ; but the city of Rome happening at that time to be in some disorder, the plates were lost. He graved likewise for Parmegiano the Espousals of our Lady, and a rare Nativity after Titian ; not to conceal his admirable talent in cutting of onixes, chrlstals, and other estimable stones. Eneas Vico de Parma engraved the Rape of Helena after old Rosso ; a Vulcan with some Cupids about him ; Leda after Mich. Arigelo ; the Annuntiation designed by Titian ; the story of Judith, the portrait of Cosimo di Medices, &c. ; also the Contest 'twixt Cupid and Apollo before the Gods ; the Conversion of St. Paul in great, a very rare stamp ; the head of Jovanni dij\fedici, Charles the V. and some rare medails whjch are extant in the hands of the curious. He also published St. George ; several Habits of Countries ; the Stemmata, or trees of the JEmperours, and divers other famous pedigrees. Lamberto Suave set forth 13 prints of Christ and his Disciples, far better graved than design'd ; also the Resurrection of Lazarus, and a St. Paul, which are skilfully and very laudably handled. Gio. Battista de Cavaglieri has cut the Descent from, the Cross, a Madona, and many others. Antonio Lanferri and Tomaso Barlacchi graved divers things after Michael Angelo, and procured so many as were almost numberlesse : but what they publish'd of better use were divers grotescos, antiquities. 284 and pieces serving to architecture, taken out of the old buildings an4 ruines yet extant ; which afterwards Sebastiano Serlio refining upon, compos'd the better part of that excellent book of his : and of this nature are the things published by Antonio Labbaco and Barozzo da Vrgnola, The famous Titian himself left some rare things graven with his own hand in wood, besides his Pharo in the great Cartoons, divers Land- sJcips, a Nativity, St. Hiej'om, St. Francis:; and in copper, a Tanta- lus, jddonis ; also in box, the Triumph of Faith, Patriarchs, Sybills, Innocents, j^postles, Marty res, with our Saviour borne up in a Chariot by the four Evomgelists, Doctors, and Confessors ; also the^. Virgin^ a St. Anna, which he first painted in chiaro-oscuro on the sepulcher of Luigi Trivisano, in St. Giovanni e paola at Venice ; Samson and Dallila ; some Shepheards and Animals; three ^erifMccj sitting, and encompassed with serpents like the Ldocoon ; not to mention what were published by Giulio Buonasoni, and those which were cut after Raphael, Giulo Romano, Parmegiano, and several othersi Baptista Franco, a Venetian painter, has shewed both his dexterity in the graver and aqua-fortis also ; by the Nativity, Adoration of the the Magi, Predication of St. Pete?; some Acts of the Apostles, His- tories of the Old Testament, after several excellent masters. Renato did divers rare things after Rosso, as in that of Francis the First his passing to the Temple of Jupiter ; the Salutation of the B^ Virgin ; and a Dance of Ten TVomen, with several others. Luca Penni published his two Satyrs whipping of Bacchus ; a Leda, Susanna, and some things after Primaticcio : also the Judge- ment of Paris; Isaac iipon the Altar ; a Christ ; a Madona espousing of St. Catharine; the Metamorphosis of Calista, Concilium Deorum, Penelope, and some others in wood. Who does not with admiration and even extasie behold the works of Francesco MarcolinI ? especially his Garden of Thoughts; Fate, Envy, Calamity, Ftar, Praise, so incomparably cut in wood. Nor lesse worthy of commendation are the gravingsof Gabrielle Giolito, in the Orlando of Ariosto ; as also those eleven pieces of Anatomic made for Andrea Vessalino, design'd by Calcare the Fleming, an excellent painter, and which Were afterwards engraven in copper by Valverde in little. 285 • Christophero Coriolano graved the heads in Vasari's Lives of the Painters, being after the designes of the same Vasari ; they are in Wood,. and rarely done. Antonio Salamanca did put forth some very good things. Andrea Mantegna, that admirable painter, engraved (from the paint- ings now at Hampton Court) his Triumphs ofi Ccesar with great art ; as likewise Baccanalias, and Sea- Gods ; a Christ tahen from the Cross, his Burial, and Resurrection ; which being done both in brass and wood, were conducted with that skill, as for the softness and tendernesse of the lights, they appeared as if they had been painted in miniature. Nor may we here omit to celebrate, for the glory of the sex, Propertia de Rossi, a Florentine sculptress, who having cut stupendous things in marble, put forth also some rare things in .Stampi to he encountred amongst the collections of the curious. And about this age, or a little after, flourished Martin Rota, famous for his Judgment after Michael Ahgelo in a small volume, much to be pre- ferred to that which is commonly sold at Rome in so many sheets; likewise his St.yjinthfxny, and divers more. Jacomo Palma has, besides his ex-p cellent book of drawing, set forth many rare pieces, very much esteemed. Andrea Mantuana graved both in wood and copper : of his were the Triumph of our Saviour, after Titian, and some things, in chiaro-oscuro after Gio : di Bologna and Domenico Beccafumi, whom but now we mentioned ; also the Roman Triumphs in imitation of Mantegna ; a Christus mortuus after Alexand. Casolini, &c. Finally, towards the. end of this century appeared Augustino and Annibal Carracci, most rare Painters and exquisite Engravers; for, in- deed, when these two arts go together, then it is, and then only, that we may expect to see the utmost efforts and excellency of the JBolino. Amongst the famous pieces communicated to us by these masters, we - may esteem the Monellif JEneas of Barrochio's invention, and St. Hierom. After Tintoret, the large and famous Crucifix of three sheets in S. Rocco's school, which so ravished the painter ; Mercury and the Graces; Sapientia ; Pax ; jibundantia chasing Mars away ; the .£'cce jyomo of Correggio ; St. Francis oi CqmsWqv Vanni; a Venus in littlci, with a Satyr, and some other Nudities, with something a too luxurious 286 ;raver ; S. Glustina's Martyrdom of Paulo Veroneze ; St. Catharine ; nd that renown'd St. Hierom of Corregglo : also in aqua-fortis his rother Annibal etched another Venus ; the Woman of Samaria at the Veil; a Christ in little j and a Madona with the Bambino, and St. ^ohn; the famous St. Roch; and the spiteful Coronation with Thornes; he Christus mortuus bewailed by the devout sex, the original painting i^hereof hangs in the D. of Parma's palace at Caprarvola, and is in the ut one of the tenderest and rarest things that can be imagined, bating the vileness of the plate, which was most unfortunately chosen, hough through that accident rendered inimitable, and never to be ounterfeited. There is likewise his Magdalen, and a Landskip, ouch'd with the graver a little ; likewise a Sylenus, all of them incom- larably design'dj nor, indeed, did any of the fore-celebrated artists xceed the Carracci, especially Annibal, for the noblenesse and freedom f his postures, bodies, and linibs, which he express'd in greatest per- ejction. We may not omit the Purification which he grav'd ; and Vil- amena, made in large; nor the St. Anthony, the original whereof is in he palace of Signior Francisco della Vigna, at Venice ; nor, lastly, the Resurrection, and the two Ccenaculce. In the time of Sixtus Quintus, and since, lived Francisco Villamena, . rare workman, whether consider'd for the equality of his hatches, vhich he conducted with a liberty and agreeableness suitable to the per- ection of his design (as is sufficiently apparent in that famous plate vhich he engrav'd after. Paulo Veroneze, representing Christ in the Temple), or in those things after the Vatican paintings by Raphael, ome whereof being never finished, came into a private hand. The Triumphant Veniison the Sea; Moses; some 'cuts aft^ Frederick Bar- occio in aqua-fortis ; divers Catafalcos of excellent architecture ; Igna- ius Loyola ; the story of Psyche, containing, many sheets ; a Combate f Men casting stones at one another ; and, lastly, that laborious and isefull book, comprehending the Historical Columne of Trajan, de- iign'd by Julio Romano and Girolamo Mutiano, which at my being at iome (then quite out of print) I procur'd of his widow, who was then iving, but would not part with the plates out of her sight. Giovanni Maggi was an excellent painter and etcher, as he has suffi- 1287 ciently discovered in his rare Perspectives] Landskips, and his Roma in the larger Cartoon ; likewise in the Nine priviledg'd and stationary Churches; with the three Jfog-?, who oflfer presents to our >SiamoMr, in allusion to his name. Leonardo, Isabella, and Bernardino Parasol, that we may furnish all the sorts of art in this kind, cut exquisitively in wood, which is a graving much more difficult, because all the work is to be abated and cut hol- low, which is to appear white ; so that (by a seeming paradox) as the matter diminishes the forme increases ; as one wastes, the other grbwes pdiffect. These all flourished about the year 1560, and left us three little histories of the Salutation, Visitation, and St. John Baptist : also Christ's Washing his Disciples Jeet ; and the cuts to Castor Durante's Herbal. Isabella, who was his (Leonardo's) wife, publlsh'd a book of all the sorts of Points, Laces, and Embroderies, with other curious works for the ladies, being all of her own invention (except the frontis- piece only, which is Vilamena's), and the Plants in the Herbal of the Prince Gesi d'Aquasporte, a learned person of that age. Lastly, the son did also put forth some few things of his work ; but was a far better painter in fresco. Antonio Tempesta was a most exact and rare designer, for which his works are much more estimable then for the excellency of his points and needles. He has left us of his essayes in aqiia-fortis, the Histories of the Fathers ; the Twelve Moneths of the Year ; Roma, in a very large volume ; an incomparable book of Horses, another of Hunting, the plates now worn out and retouch'd with the JBolino ; St. Hierom, and a Judgement : the PFars of Charles the Fifth, rarely perform'd ; the Metamorphoses of Ovid; the Bdttails of the Jewes, especially that of the Amalakitesm great; the Crea^zowand Old Testament; Torquato Tasso's Jerusalemma Liberata; the Birds and Falconry in Pietro Gliha's book ; with divers others well known, and much esteemed by the Virtuosi. Cherubino Albert! has celebrated his incomparable graver in that Pre- sentation of our Lord in the Temple; the Adam expulsed out of Para- dise : in the Puti, divers Fasas, and other pieces; which he wrought 288 after Polydoro de Caravagglo and Michael Angelo, commonly sold at Rome, and universally collected. Horatio Borgiani cut the History of the Bible in the Peristyle of Raphael at the Vatican, so often made mention of, and out of- which, as from a school of the noblest science, most of the great painters of the world have since taken forth their lessons. He likewise published some things in chiar-oscuro, which were rarely heightned. Raphael Guido, a Tuscane, engraved many pieces after Cavalier Arpino, as the Flagellation, Romulus, Icarus, the Angelus Custos, Ceres, Bacchus, a Christus mortuuSj, and St. Andrew the Apostle, after Barrocio. Jovanni Baptista della Marca put forth many devices of Shields, Ar- mours, Busts, and Trophies cut in wood. To these we might add those excellent things of Camillo GrafBco, and Cavalier Salimbene, Anna Vaiana, with innumerable more ; but we have yet other fruitful countries to visit, to whose praises we must be just ; only we may not forget the incomparable Stephano Delia Bella, a Florentine painter now or lately living, whose intire collection in aqua-fortis is de- servedly admir'd, and here in particular to be celebrated by mCj in acknowledgement of some obligation I have for his civilities abroad ; iand of this artist's works, flowing and most luxurious for invention, are those things which in imitation of Callot he did in little, being yet veiy young ; as the Scenes a.nd Dances of the Horses at the Marriage of the Duke of Tuscany ; Compartimenti, Cartells, Ornaments and Ca- pricios for carvers and embroiderers; a book of Gobbi, and divers Pasas, Landskips in rounds and others ; a book of Beasts^ done ex- ceedingly to the natural ; the principles of Designe, Heads, and other touches, very rare and full of spirit ; several pieces of our Lady, Christ, St. Joseph, &c. ; Jacob's Descent into Egypt ; the Procession and JExposure of the Sacrament, where there is an altar of curious architec* ture enriched with festival ornaments ; the Cavalcado of the Polonian Embassadour into Borne, with divers other proceedings, pieces of Po- lonians, Persians, and Moores on Horseback, breathing a rich and noble fancy : also Sieges, Engines for war, with Skirmishes, Land 289 andSeaMghtS; the Metamorphdses 6f Ovid; the Sultana and her Son taken hy the Knights of Malta; and, to conclnde (for there is no end of his indwatry), the Prospect of the Pont Neuf at Parisf than which there is not certatnly extant a more Kvely representation of the basie genius of that m-ercuriail natron; nor & piece of greatesr variety, as to all encounters and aeeideuts- which one can imagine may happen amongst so numerotis a people and concourse of mankind. Lastly (for they were likewise some of them gxavers in copjjer and very rare chalcographers), we msust mot omit to make honourable men- tion here of those incomparable sculptors and cuttets of medails, whether in gems or metals; such as were (besides those we touch'd in the foTmejf chapter) Vittor, Gambelloy Giovanni dal Cavino the Fadouan, and a son of his ; Benevento Cellini, Leone Aretino, Jacopo da Tresso, Fred. Bonza;gna ; and, above all, Gio. Jacopo, who have almost exceeded, at least approach'd, the antients. To these may we add Giovanni da Gastel Bolognese, Matteo dal Nasaro, Giovanni dal Cornivole, Dbmsenica Milaneze, Pietro Mairia de Pescia, Marraaita, and Ludovico his son, Valeria Vincentino, who had been in England, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and left a sardonix which he cut |^which Jerome Lennier shewed me, and:, I think, is now in his Majesty's cabinet]-, representing the head of that famous heroine, inferiour to none of the antients. There was Kkewise M^chelino, who, with the afcove-named Ludovico and Vincentino, had so accurately counterfeited the antient medails, that the most knowing antiquaries were often at a loss toi distinguish them. Such were also Luigi Arichini, Alessaimdro Ceesari, caUed the Greek, so much celebrated for that stupendous medalionof Paul the Thitd, and the head of Photius the Athenian, which he cut in an onix, comparable, by the universal suffrages, to any of the antients. We could reckon up the works also of many of the re8t,.but it is not requisite,, after we have given this tasite, and would merit an express treatise. Likewise those of Antonio de Rossij Cosimo da Trezzo, Philip'po; Negaroloi Gaspar and Girolamo Misuroni, Pietro Paulo Galcotto, Pastorino da: Sieniia^ not omitting that famous Pharoddxus of Milan, Fran. Furnius, and Severus of Ravenna, &c. whose works were in ^Id, silver, copper, steel, achates, cornelians, onixes, christal, jasper, heliotrope, lazuli, 2 p 290 amethysts, &c. ; yea, and to shew how much some of those modern masters exceeded the antients, even the diamond, that hitherto insu- perable gemme, was subdu'd by the famous Treccia of Milan, who, with stupendous successe cutting the King of Spain's armes in a noble table, was the first that ever engrav'd or made impression into that obdurate stone. It will become such to be well acquainted with these masters labours, and their manner, who aspire to be knowing, and to improve their judgment in medaills and intaglias, that necessary, orna- mental, and noble piece of learning; and not only to be v;ell skill'd in their way of design, but to be able also to perform something in the art themselves : for such were those ingenious and illustrious spirits, Geo. Battista Sozini of Sienna, and Rosso de Giugni of Florence, gentlemen of note ; and such, with us, is our noble and worthy friend, Elias Ash- mole, Esq.* whose learning and other excellent qualities deserve a more glorious inscription. Finally, that excellent medalist Mounsieur Roti, now entertain'd by his Majesty for the Mint, and a rare workman as well for IntagHas in stone, as metal, is not to be here omitted. We shall speak in the next of those Germans and Flemmings who excell'd in the art of Chalcography, not that they have exceeded some of the French, but, because they were before them, and universally admired; of these, the aniesignani, were the fore-mentlon'd Albert Durer ; that prodigie of science, whose works we have already recount- ed upon occasion of Marco Antonio, and therefore shall here forbear the repetition ; as also those of Lucas ; whose works (consisting in all of about Ixx sheets, and which I have known sold for near an hundred pounds sterling, to one \ that as well understood the value of money, as of that rare collection, he being one of the greatest merchants of books in Europe) are to be taken blind fold as they say; provided the impressions be black, well conserved, of equal force, and not counterfeit, as there are several of them which be discernable only by the curious and accurately skllfull ; for such (amongst others of Durers) are the * Founder of the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, and author of the " Institution, Laws, and Ceremonies of the most Noble Order of the Garter," folio, 1672 ; also " Antiquities of Berkshire," 3 vols. 8vo. 1719. f Master Bleau, of Amsterdam. 291 Jreaiion of Adam ; the Storiji of Lot ; Siisanna ; The Crucifix, which he at in a small round plate of gold for theEmperours sword, and is fixed n the pummel, not before mention'd ; his armed Cavalier and Satyre ; nd, indeed, almost all that ever he or Lucas graved and set forth. The works of Aldegrave, who came verv near Albert, and flourish'd bout the same age, are worthy the collection. His pieces are distin- ;uish'd by the cypher of his initial letters A in imitation of Durer, s likewise the author of the Septem opera misericordice, stories of the 3ook of the Kings, Artemisia^ &c. whose gravings are counter- ign'd with G. P. J. B. publish'd the Four Evangelists, Adam, a 'Country Fellow, a Bishop, a Cardinal, Satyrs, Sfc. M. the Prodigal Son, the Evangelists, &c. some whereof are copies after Albert, and nost of their works done in small plates. Hans Sibald B^me [Beham] hath done wonders in those small Igures, stories, and nakeds, which he publish'd ; it shall not be re- juisite to recite here the catalogue, because his mark H.S.B. (BB) is fixed :o most of his works, though now and then profan'd by the hands of sthers. Jerome Cock, a Flemming, cut a Mioses, 32 sheets of the story of Psyche, design'd by one Michael a painter of the same country, very rarely conducted : also Dalila and Samson ; the J)esti'Uction of the Philistines ; the Creation of Adam, 8fc. ; 27 stories of the Old Testa- ment, nobly. design'd by Martino, and as well graved : also the His- tory of Susanna ; another book of the Old and New Testament ; the Triumph of Patience, a rare cut; the Heart on the anvile, and divers EmMems full of curious figures; many sacred Triumphs; Fraud; Avarice; q. Bacchanalia ; and a Moses, after Bronzini, in emulation whereof Gio. Mantuano publish'd \\\^ Nativity, an incomparable print; after which Jerome graved for the inventor, twelve great sheets of Sorceresses, the Battails of Charles the V. ; and for Uries, a painter, the Perspectives which pass under his name, with 20 leaves of several buildings ; besides the St. Martine in a book full of devils. For Girol. Bos, the Alchemist, the Seven deadly Sins ; the last Judgment; a Carnival; and after Francis Floris, ten pieces of Hercules' Jjabours ; the J)uel of the Horatii and Curatii ; the Comhate of the Pigmies 292 and Hercules ; Cain q,nd Abel ; Ahrahan^, ; the Decision of Solomori between the two Harlots ; and, in summe, all the actions of human life. And now that we mention'd Francis Floris of Antwerp, the rare things which he publish'd in stamp, purchas'd him the name of the Flemroish Michael Angelp. Of the same country was that incomparable Cornelius Cort. We will commence with the Judgment of Michael Angelo which he cut in little : most of his things were after Frederic Zucchero, and some few of Raphael's, besides his landskips and other gravings, after Girolamo Mutiano, which are very excellent : also John the Baptist, St. Ilierom, Stt Francis, Mary Magdalen, St. Eustachius, the Lapida- tion of S. Stephen design'd by Marco Venusto the Mantuan ; a Nati- vity after Thadeo Zucchero, St. Anne, 8fc. ; also a Nativity in great, aft0r Polydore ; the Transjigaration ; the School at Athens ; the Bat- tail of Elephants ; some gravings after Don Julio Clovio, and Titian, which, had they been acqompanled with that tenderness and due obser- vation of the distances that accomplish'd the succeeding gravers, had render'd him immortal, so sweet, even, and bold, was his work and design in all other considerations. We mention'd Titian ; for about 1,570, Cor. Cort did use tq work in that famous painter's house, and graved for him thsi.t Paradise he made for the Emperour ; St. J^azarics's Martyrdom ; Calista and the Nymphs ;. Prometheus ; Andromeda, the for^-nam'd Magdalen in the desart, and St. Hierom, all of them of Titian's invention. We come novv to Justus, John, ^gidius (Giles), and Ralph Sade- lers, who lived in the time of the Emperour Rodulphus, and publish'd their almost numberless labours ; we can therefore instance but in some of the most rare ; such as were that book divided into three parts ; 1. Imago bonitatis -, 2. Boni et mali seientice ; 3. Bonoriim et malorum Consensio, design d by Martin de Vos ; the Vestigia of Rome, ten- derly and finely touch'd, in fifty sheets : the Twelve Roman Emperours ^nd Mmpr^SSfiS stfter Titian, rarely graved by Giles ; a Madona, with our Saviour and Sf. Joseph, after Raphael ; Christus Flagellatus ; and the Head of Rodulphus //. with various capriccios and inventions about 293 it ; as also that of the Emperour Mathim, adorn'd with the chaplet of Medails ; the calling of S. Andrew, by John fand Giles in brotherly emulation ; four books of Eremites admirably (Conducted by Raphael ; a Ceena Domini after Tintoret ; and another Flagellation of Arpino's ; di* vers Landskips ; the Twelve Monet ks ; the great Hall at Prague i the Effigies of Martin de Vos, by ^gidius ; the Emperour and Empress in their robes of State ; an Adoration of the Mdgi after Zucchero ; Adonis and Venus after Titian ; a Crucifix after Jac. Palma ; a HeSUr^ rection in great ; the rich Epulo ; St. Stephens Lapidation, the origi- nal whereof is at Friuli ; a S. Sebastian ; these by Giles. John engrav'd after M, de Vos, a scholar of Tintoret's already mentioned, the Crea^ tion, and many Histories out of Genesis ; Ralph cut also the Life of Christ, and the Cr^edo, by way of embleme. In summe (for their whole collection is not to be crouded into this catalogue) they have all of them published such incomparable gravings, that 'tis the greatest pitty in the world they had not flourished in the time of the great Raphael, and the good masters ; for they were not only accurate and punctual imitators, but gave to their works that softnesse, life, and colore (as artists terme it}, which accomplishes all the rest ; especially John and Raphael, in what they graved after Mich, de VoSj Bassano, and others, whose rusti- cities they set forth : those of ^gidius in great, being a Descent from the Crosse, of Barroccio's invention, the other a Magellation, design'd by Josepho Pin [q. Gioseppino }~\ can never be suflBciently celebrated. After the Sadelers, appeared Herman Muller with a very bbld bulino, and likewise Janus, who graved many things after Sprangers, worse exe- cuted (for the convulsive and even demoniac postures) then ehosen. But the imitations of the graver by Simon Frisius the Hollander, who wrought with the aqua-fortis of the refiners, are altogether admirable and inimitable, the stroke and conduct consider'd, had the design (ex- cepting- those of his birds, which are indeed without reproach,) contri- buted in any proportion to his dexterity. After him came the Swisse Matthew Miriam, who, had he perform'd his heightnings with more tendernesse, and come sweetly off with the extremities of his hatchings, had proved an excellent master ; his works are useful and Innumerable in Towns, Landskips^ Battails (those espe- 294 daily fought by the great Gustavus), &c. The soft vernish and sepa- rating aqua-fortis was the instrument he used. We have seen some few things cut in wood by the incomparable Hans Holbein, but they are rare, and exceedingly difficult to come by ; as his Licentiousnesse of the Friers and Nuns; Erasmus; [Morice enco- mium ; the Trial and Crucifixion of Christ f] the Daunce Macchabree, the Mortis imago, which he painted in great, in the church at Basil, and afterwards graved with no lesse art, and some few others. But there is extant a book of several figures done in the same material by one Jus- tus Ammannus Tigur, mdlxxviii, which are incomparably design'd and cut. In the epistle whereof, one Holtzhusen, a gentleman of Frankfort, is commended for his universal knowledge, and particularly his rare talent in this art, which it is there said he shewed by wonder- ful contrivances at the celebration of Martin Luther's nuptials, and therefore worthy to be taken iiotice of. Hans Brossehaemer, besides several other things, ha;th cut in wood u4 triumph of the Emperour Maximilian into Neuremherge. Virgilius Solis graved also in wood the Story of the Mible, and the Mechanic A7'ts in little ; but for imitating those vile postures of Aretine, had his eyes put out by the sentence of the Magistrate. Henry Goltzius was a Hollander, and wanted only a good and judi- cious choice to have render'd him comparable to the profoundest mas- ters that ever handled the burin, for never did any exceed this rare workman : witnesse those things of his after Gasparo Celio, the Gala- tea of Raphael Santio, and divers other pieces after Polydore da Carra- vaggio, a Hierom ; Nativity ; and what he did of the Acts of the Apos- tles, with Ph. Galle, &c. ; but he was likewise an excellent painter. George Nouvolstell was of Mentz, in Germany, an admirable graver in wood. He publish'd that ^neas in little, and some historical parts of the Bible very well perform'd ; also divers of the Fathers after Tem- pesta, besides the Jerusalemma Liherata of Bernardino Castelli in quarto, with many Cartels of Armes and Harnesses, and some pictures to a Breviary, &c. Matthew Greuter publish'd a curious Book of Letters, the City of Home in an ample forme, and a large Map of Italy ; the Old and 295 New Testament ; the Church of Strasburge ; an Harmony *twixt the Decalogue and the Lords Prayer, very ingeniously represented in pic- ture, with several other things laudably performed. But his son Frederic did infinitely exceed the father, as may be seen by those many curious gravings which he has cut after Pietro Beretin Cortona, and the famous Andrea Sacchi, egregious painters. Saenredamus did publish many excellent cuts, especially those which he copied after Lucas van Leiden, of which we have formerly given a hintj^ for their sakes who are collectors of these curiosities, and may not happly be yet arriv'd to the judgment of being able to discerne them from the originals ; also some things after Goltzius. Cornelius Galle, in his St. Prison's Bapti^mf Papenheim's and other heads after Vandyke, has shew'd what he was able to perform ; not to mention abundance of Frontispieces and other lesse considerable of his workes. But the Count Goudt, a knight of the Palatinate, has publish'd, though very few, yet some stupendous things, especially that of our JB. Saviours flight into JEgypt by night ; the Stoiy of Tobit, and about three or four more worthy of all admiration. Swanevelt's History of St. John, with divers Landships. Pandern's Descent from, the Cross ; Matham's Christ and St. John ; a Venus after Rotenhamer, Pope Innocent X. 8fc. Bronchorst's rare etching^, especially those Huines and Anticalia^ of Rome ; and superiour to all, the incomparable Landskips set forth by Paul Brill (some of which have been etched in aqua-fortis by Nieu- lant) do extreamly well merit to be placed in this our theater : for to be brief, because we can only recite the most remarkable and worthy the collection. Matham is famous for fruits ; Boetius, or Adam Bolswert, for his rusticks after Blomaert ; Londerselius has taken excessive pains in his landskips ; and so has Van Velde in some few ; but above all, Nicholas de Bruyn (after ^gidius Coninxlogensis) is wonderful for Boscage, and the industry of his undertaking works of that large vo- lume which Theodore de Bry (resembling him in name) has been as famous for contracting ; though both of them of a Dutch heavy spirit, and perfectly suiting with the times and places : notwithstanding has ^96 tbU latter perfari«,'cl some, things in little, very laudably. Nor with lease ingratitude, Eimangst others, may we forget the Novareperta of Sir&- danus by Theodore Galle ; who also published the whole Proeesse. of making Silk of the Worm, and Qertain other works in Maimfactwe, 9II of them represented in Sculpture. Mallery, in his Peccati fo.me& after Mic?h. de Vos, has perform'd wonders as to the subtilty and imperceptible duetm of the graver. Bolswert set forth the Sacra Mremus udsceticarum, after Blomart and others ; but above all is he to be celebrated for those rare heads, and other stories grav'd after the paintings of Reubens, and Van Dyke, which, for their sakes who are diligent eolleetors of the renouned persons of the late age, we shall not think amiss to mention. Such were the JJlutchesse of OrUam, A7:eh-J)uke Albert, Justu& JJ^sius, and others after Van Dyke ;, Lessius and 3ellarmine, jesuites, after Diepenbeck. After the same hands did Paulas Pontius grave the head of Sigismund, King of Poland, C@U7it Pimentelo,, Sec; after Reubens, Z>on Phil, de Gusman ; Don Alvarez Buzan, an incomparable cut ; Don Carolus cfer CohmV'O' } Rubens' picture bare-'headed',_ for there is another in. a hat ; Gasp, de Grayer ; Simon d'e Vbs ; Maria, de Medices ; Cassar Aleocand. ScdgUm.; Const. Huygens, the learned father of our most in- genious friend Monsieur Zuylichen, so worthily celebrated for his dis- coveries of the annulus about Saturne, thje" pendule clocks, and universal mathematical genius,; Gasper Garartius^ the lawyer ; Gasp-. Mevestyn ; Gustavus j^dolpjms. King of Sweden ; Jacobus de JBreueh ; the Prin- cesse of JB^ohonson; that rare head of Frederic Hsnmc Prince of Orange, and his own, with; many more after Van Dyke ;. besides the Jesuit Canisius, Ji, Urbin,. painter, and others whom he grav'd after Diepenbeck, ^c. ; and since we mentipn'd Sir Peter Paul Rubens, we may not pretermit those many exeellent things of that great polititian, a learned and extraordinary person, set forth in so many incomparable gravings by the admirable works of Swanenbourg,the above-named Pon* tius and !Polswert, Nesse, Vosterman, Vorst, and other rare masters,in this art; such are (to instance in some only) his Battail of the Amazons, St. S^ch, ourB. Sfiviow composed to Burial, t\ie,Mg.ht of Lions, his great Crucifiifi,^ Conversion of St. Paul, St.. Peter in the Ship^ a 297 Nativity^ the Magi; the hloody, Catastv&phe of Cyrus; Solomon's Jirst Sentence ; St. Catharine's Espousals '; the Tribute demanded of our Lord; Susanna and the Elders ; St. Laurence martyred; the Pa- laces of Genoa, with divers othei's to be encountr'd amongst the mer- chants of prints, who frequently vend the copies for the originals to the lesse wary chapmen. Chr. Jegher has cut the Temptation of our Saviour in wood, very rarely perform'd after this great master. Besides the former mention'd, Lucas Vosterman and Vorst are never to be forgotten so long as the memory of his (Rabens's) scholar, Sir Ant. Van Dyke, is famous, for the heads of the Marquesse Spitiola, Char, de Mattery, Horatius Gentilescus, Jo. Count of Nassau, Van Milder, P. Stevens, and Cor. Sachtleven, which he engrav'd after a new way of etching it first, and then pointing it (as it were) with the burine afterwards, which' renders those latter works of his as tender as miniature ; and such are the heads of Van Dyke himself, Jo. Elevens, Car. Schut, Corn, de Vos, Deodato Delmont, I/ucas Vanuden,- Jo- docus de Momper, Wencesl. Koeherger, painters ; Count de Ossono^ Duke of Bavaria, the Arch-Dutchesse Clara, the last Duke of Or- leans, j^nton. Connebison, P. Stevens, and many others ; together with those other pieces of history, viz. the Sepulture of Christ, and St. George^ after Raphael ;. Magdalene under the Ci'oss ; our B. Saviour in his :Agony, after Carracche ; the Susanna, St. Laurence, and what but now we mention'd after Rubens, divers -heads after Holbein, as that o{Erdsm,us^ the D. of Norfolk, and others of the Arundellan collection. Van Vorst, competitor with Vosterman, has likewise graven a number of heads after Van Dyke. I shall only name the learned Sr.Kenelme Digby in a philosophical habit ; oiir famous architect Inigo Jones, and those two incomparable figures of Charles the Martyr, and his royal consort the Q. Mother, now living : and to shew what honour was done this art by the best of painters, Sr. Ant. Van Dyke did himself etch divers things in aqua-fortis ; especially > a il/atZowcr, Ecce Homo, Titian and his Mistress, Erasmus Moterodamus ; and touched several of the heads before mentioned to have been grav'd by Vosterman. After this great master s paintings, did Peter de Jode grave the eflfigies of Genovefa, widow to Car. Alex. Duke of Croi; Paulus Hel- 2 Q 298 matius; the learned Puteanus; the Bishop of Gendt, the face whereof is thought to be etched by V. Dyke himself : he graved Jo. Snellinx, a painter ; besides a book of designing very rare ; and the many other prints after his master Goltzius (whose disciple he was), which both Peter, and his son of the same name, have engraved for Monsieur Bon Enfant of Paris, &c. CoUaert graved some things rarely in steel. Suyderhoef has engraven the heads of most of the learned Dutch, after several painters, with good success ; as those of Heinsius, Grotius, JBarleus, &c. ; not for- getting that stupendous Lady Anna Maria a Schureman, &c. Jo. Baur has deslgn'd his Battails with a fine spirit, but without care in the etching. Vander Thulden published the whole History of Ulysses, being the work of the famous Primatlcclo, at Fontaln Bleau, etched also in aqua- fortis, and so designed, as few pretenders to this art did ever exceed him : and so, as we but lately mention'd, are the papers of the inimita- ble Suanebourge, which strike a ravishing effect In all that behold them, for the admirable tenderness and rare conduct of the hatches; especially those which he cut after the drawings of Abraham Blomaert and Rubens. But now that we mention Blomaert, whose works we have celebrated in general, because they smell something of a Dutch spirit, though otherwise well engraven, there is at Rome (If we mistake not) a son of his named Cornelius, who in that St. Francis after' Guldo Reni, and those other pieces after the design of those great masters, Monsieur Poussln, Pletro Cortona, &c. to be seen in the books set forth by the Jesuit Ferrarius, his Hesperides, Flora, JFides JBarberini, &cv hath given ample testimony how great his abilities are; for, certainly, he has In some of these stamps arrived to the utmost perfection of the So- lino, though some workmen will hardly allow him this elogle. But those things of the- Incomparable Natalis a Ligeois (and therefore reckoned here amongst the Germans), pass without the least contradic- tion for the utmost eflfort of that instrument. Such are that of St. Ca'- tharines Espousalls after Bourdon, which seems to be a very piece of painting ; the Two Madonas in contest with Poilly ; the Thesis ; and 299 .f the Chapter of the Carthusians, all after the life and his own design, a stupendous work : also the heads of Jacob Catz :' one of the States of Holl, and painted hy Dubordieu ; and some few things more, as the exactness and curiosity of what he undertakes requires, sufficient to discover the admirable perfection of this great artist : for we do not mention several frontispieces which he has likewise engraven, with equal industry. Ferdinand has, besides many others, graved after the same Bourdon, the story of Ulysses and Andromache. Uriesse and Verden are famous for their perspectives. Winegard his Roman Vestigia, Sec. William Hondius, besides those things which adorn his Mapps, which are the largest planispheres, has very rarelv engraven his own head after a painting of Vandyke : nor with less art has Vankessell done that of Charles the Fifth after Titian : Clovet and Car. Scribo- nius the Jesuits. Caukern has graven the story of that Pious Daughter, who gave suck to her imprison'd father ; a Fight of Boores ; with divers others after Rubens and Vandyke, &c. ; besides those which are extant in Mr. Qgilbye's Homer, Bible, my Lord of New Castles Cavalerizzo, 8fd. design'd by Deipenbec, whose rare talent, that Theatre or Temple of the ■Muses, published by that curiously learned and universal collector of prints, the Abbot of Villoin (of whoni we shall have occasion to dis- course in the next chapter), does sufficiently illustrate. Lucas Kilianus has rarely graved the Murther of the Innocents; the Miracles of the Fish ; Annuntiation ; Circumcision ; iand some plates in the Hortus Eystettensis, &c. Vischer, viz. Cornelius (for there is another who has published divers landskips} hath most rarely etched a certain Dutch Kitchen, where there is an old man taking Tobacco, whilst his wife is frying of pan- cakes ; also a Fiddler accompanied with boyes and girles, painted by Ostade ; but above all, admirable is the Descent, or Christus Mortuus, after Tintoret, both graved and etch'd, as indeed I should have said of the rest. Vovillemont has etched our Saviour chasing the sacrilegious Mer- 300 chants out of the> Temple, after the same Tiiitoret ;- which ia vqiy rare, Nolp, the Twelve Moneths, especially the boystrous March, Lomhart, many plates for Mr. Oglebyes Virgil; as likewise that industrious interpreters .picture after our famous Mr. Lilly, in which he has performed laudably : nor must I here forget Mr. flertpcks, who has grav'd the frontispiece for EIKXIN BAS. in fol. and. [for my parallel of Architecture better then] that of this treatise, with many other, . To these we may add the incomparable Reimbrandt, whose etchings and gravings are of a particular spirit ; especially the Old Woman, in thefurr; the Good Samaritane ; the Angels appearing to the, Shep- herds ; divers Landskips- and Heads to the life ; St. Hi^rom, of which there is one very rarely graven with the burine ; but above all his Ecce Homo ; Descent fr-om the Cross in, large ; Philip and the Eunuch, &c. Winceslaus Hollar, a gentleman of Bohemia, comes in the next place, not that he is not before.most of the rest for his choyce and great indus- try (for we rank them very promiscuously both as to time and pre-emi- nence) but to bring up the rear of the Germans with a deserving per- son^ whose indefatigable works in aqua-fortis do infinitely recommend themselves by the excellent choyce which he hath made of the .rare' things furnish'd out of the Arundelian Collection ; and from most of the best hands and designs; for such were those of Leonardo da Vinci, Fr. Parmensis, Titian, Jul. Komano, A. Mantegna, Corregio, Perino del Vago, A. Urbin, Seb. del Piombo, Palma, Alb. Durer, Hans . Hol- bein, Vandike, Rubens., Breughel, Bassan, jElsheinaer, Brower, Artois, and divers other masters of, prime note, whose, drawings and paintings he hath faithfully copied ; besides several bpoks of Landships^ Townes, Solemnities, Histories, Heads, JBeasts, Fouls,. Insects, Pessels, a^d other signal pieces^ not omitting what he hath etched after De Clyne, Mr. Streter, and, Dankert, for Sir Rob. Stapletpn's Juvenal, Mr, Ross his Silius, Polyglotta Biblia, the Monasticon, first and second part, Mr. Dugdales Paules, and Survey of Warwickshire, £Mr. Ashmolefs Garter] with other .innumerable frontispieces, and things by him pub- lished and done aifter.the life ; and to be feo nominej more valued, and Esteemed, then where there has been more curiosity about Chimcertis ind. things which are not in nature; so that of Mr, Hollars works we 301 may justly pronounce, there is not a more useful ,and instructive col- lection to be made. Th© learned Hevellus lias shewed his admirable dexterity in this art, by the several Phases and other Ichonisms which adorn his SelenO'- graphy, and is therefore one of the noblest instances of the extraordi- nary use of this talent, for men of letters, and that would be accurate in the 'Diagramms which they publish in their works. The? no lesse knowing Anna Maria kSchurman is likewise skilled in this art, with innumerable others, even to a prodigy of her sex. For the rest, we shall only call over their names, after we have celebrated the extravagant fancies of both the Breughels ; as those of the Seven deadly Sins; So-tyrical pieces against the Nuns and Friers ; with divers Histories, Drolleries, Landskips, fantastic Grylles and Grotesques of these too rare Rhyparographs ; i not farther to tire our reader with the particulars and several works of Ostade, Cornelius Clock, Queborne, Gustos, [Dominicus Custos, and Wolfangus Kilian, from the paintings of Wiokgram and others, the Effigies of the Duke of Bavaria, with the rest in his jfltrium, Heroicum, for all the famous persons of that century, both of Europe and Asia,] Le Delfe, (who has put forth the portraits of many learned persons) Dors, Falck, Gerard, Bens, Moes- tuer, Grebber, Geldorp,- Hopfer, Gerard, Bens, Chein, Achi d' Egmont, de Vinghe, Heins, Ditmer, Cronis, Lindoven, Mirevel, Kager, Coccien, Maubease, Venius, Firens, Pierets, Quelinus, Stachade, Sehut, Soutman Vanulch, Broon, Valdet, Loggari, whom we expresly omit, because we have introduc'd a sufficient number, and that this chapter is already too prolix. • Only we would not pass Min Here Biscop, a learned advocate now of Holland, who for his story of Joseph and;Benjamin, where the cup is found in his sack, and those other few cuts among the hands of the curious^ must not be passed over in oblivion ; as we had like to have done some of , the old and best masters, by having hitherto omitted.- Druefken his King of the Boors in Hungarimr eaten alive by the Rebels whom he seduced ; with some other cuts in wood, known by his mark, which was commonly a cluster of grapes. 302 Pleter Van Aelst, his Cavalcade of the Grand Signior to Sancta Sophia, and several Turkish Habits, on which subject also Swart Jan Van Groennighen has set forth many remarkable things, Caravanns, Pilgrimages to Mecca, &c. Lucas Cranach, Tiltings, Huntings, German Habits, and the por- traits of all the Dukes of Saxony to his time. Joos Ammanus, of whom we already mention'd, divers of the mecha- nic arts ; not omitting all those excellent wood-cuts of Hans Schinflyn and Adam AUorf, especially this last,' known by the two capital AA of the Gothick forme, including one within the other, as the D is in that of Albert Durers. Hubert Goltzius has cut in wood a book of the Roman Empe- rours in two colours. This name recals to mind an omission of ours in some of those excellent Chalcographers already recorded, and in particular the incomparable imitations of Henry Goltzius after X. ■ S'^s\3^ -"""':'■ ■■'■.'---v.;. •IF Mm. VI ':^5VlJKTl|t-. :.tl k. it^Wi, :'^ aa:i fisepst ^l«i^;n' . .t. platts) . A<>u?u ^ Jiere Ae fe^-M ■.■ Mc, and the most ex|>cdittotis ^ that. o« ui*- :.,ti»ter|, 'ifcv r^rb^- : He Jft this tlif^ most h-horicya^, and ;,et perfem*d x^lth the | .-:;-" •■. ^ r' f 4liat„ wlirit appears to_l>e effected with m little cioto^sjy ^h£, !^ gejia-^ily esteem 'd ifet v*^av t,'.:.ftu:*t: '*^'*» **' ,,--*.. ■,■, .;'-..;4|, »*rt»<*. -|ll«|»rt s-'he^''d I*'; -V^ij •■■,^ tfwat-vsiftt,* .- ,■„ 333 CHAP. VI. OF THE NEW WAY OP ENGRAVING, OR MEZZO TINTO,* INVENTED, AND COMMUNICATED BY HIS HIGHNESSE PRINCE RUPERT, COUNT PALA- TINE OF RHYNE, &C. We have already advertis'd the Reader in one of our prseliminaries, why we did omit what had been by us prepar'd for the accomplishment of the more mechanical part of the Chalcographical art ; but it was not out of the least design to abuse him in the title at the frontispiece &f this History ; since we believed he would most readily commute for the defect of a mystery so vulgar, to be gratified with another altogether rare, extraordinary, universally approv'd of, admired by all which have consider'd the eflFects of it, and, which (as yet) has |by none been ever published; Nor may I without extraordinary ingratitude conceal that illustrious name which did communicate it to me, nor the obligation which the curious have to that heroic person whp was pleas'd to impart it to the world, though by so incompetent and unworthy an instrument. It would appear a paradox to discourse to you of a graving without a graver, burin, point, or aqua-fortis ; and yet is this perform'd without the assistance of either : that what gives our most perite and dextrous artists the greatest trouble, and is longest finishing (for such are the hatches and deepest shadowes in plates), should be here the least con- siderable, and the most expeditious ; that, on the contrary, the lights should be in this the most laboriou?, and yet perform'd with the greatest facility ; that what appears to be effected with so little curiosity should yet so accurately resemble what is generally esteem'd the very greatest; * \3th March, 1661,— This afternoon Prince Rupert shew'd me with his owne hands ye new way of graving, call'd Mexzo Tinto, which afterwards, by his permission, I published in my His- tory of Chalcography, This set so many artists on worlie, that they soone arriv'd at yt perfection it is since come to, emulating the tenderest miniatures.— Memoirs, vol, I, p, 318. 334 viz. that a print should emulate even the best of drawings, chiaro oscuro, or (as the Italians term it) pieces of the Mezzo Tinto, so as nothing either of Vago da Carpi, or any of those other masters who pursu'd his attempt, and whose works we have already celebrated, have exceeded, or indeed approach'd; especially, for that of portraits, figures, tender landskips, and history, &c. to which it seems most appropriate and applicable *. This obligation, then, we have to his Highness Prince Rupert, Count Palatine of Rhine, &c. who has been pleas'd to cause the instruments to be expressly fitted, to shew me with his own hands f how to manage and conduct them on the plate, that it might produce the effects I have so much magnified and am here ready to shew the world, in a piece of his own illustrious touching, which he was pleas'd to honour this work withall, not as a venal addition to the price of the book (though for which alone it is most valuable), but a particular grace, as a specimen of what we have alledged, and to adorn this present Chapter. It is likewise to be acknowledged, that his Highness did indulge me the liberty of publishing the whole manner and address of this new way of engraving with a freedome perfectly generous and obliging; but, when 1 had well consider'd it (so much having been already ex- pressed which may suffice to give the hint to all ingenious persons how it is to be perform'd), I did not think it necessary that an art so curious, and (as yet) so little vulgar (and which indeed does not succeed where the workman is not an accomplished designer, and has competent talent in painting likewise,) was to be prostituted at so cheap a rate as the more naked describing of it here would too soon have expos'd it to. Upon these considerations then it is that we leave it thus senigma- tical ; and yet that this may appear no dissiugenous rodomontade in me, * [This art, since the publishing of this (first) edition, is arrived to the utmost curiosity and accurateness even of the rarest miniatures, in black and white, and takes in all subjects. The only defect is, that the plates last not so long under the roUing-press.] t [MoNiER, a painter of the French King's, has published the History of Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, and Graving, in three books ; which is translated into English, and printed in London 1699. In the last Chapter of the third Book, c. 22, he treats of Taille-iouce, but little which is not already in mine.] 335 or invidious excuse, I profess my self to be alwayes most ready (sub sigillo, and by his Highnesse's permission) to gratifie any curious and worthy person with as full and perfect a demonstration of the entire art as my talent and addresse will reach to if what I am now preparing to be reserv'd in the Archives of the Royal Society concerning it, be not sufficiently instructive. AN ADVERTISEMENT. Theke is a Treatise of Monsieur du Bosse in French, concerning etching in aqua-fortis, construction of the rolling press, &c. which (with some improvement of the method) I did long since interpret and deliver to the Royal Society, in obedience to their commands : it was my intention to have added it to this History of mine, as what would have render'd it a more accomplish'd piece ; but, understanding it to be also the design of Mr. Faithorn, who had (it seems) translated the first part of it, and is himself by profession a Graver, and an excellent Artist ; that I might neither anticipate the world's expectation, nor the workman's pains, to their prejudice, I desisted from printing my copy, and subjoyning it to this discourse. In the mean time it is to be acknowledged, that the Author thereof has discover'd his skill so honestly and intlrely, that there seems nothing more desirable as to that particular ; and I could wish, with all my heart, that more of our workmen would (in imitation of his laudable example) impart to us what they know of their several trades and manufactures with as much candor and integrity as Monsieur Bosse has done. For what could so much conduce to their profit and emolument ? when their several mys- 336 s being subjected to the most accurate inspection and examen of more polite and enquiring spirits, they should return to their Au- s again so greatly refin'd and improved, and when (through this ns also) Philosophy her self might hope to attain so considerable a jress towards her ultimate perfection. THE EPISTLES DEDICATORY PREFIXED TO THE TRANSLATION OF THE PARALLEL, BETWEEN ANTIENT AND MODERN ARCHITECTURE," ORIGINALLY WRITTEN IN FKENCH, BY ROLAND FREART, SIEUR DE CHAMBRAY. First Printed in English in 1664.' Folio. 2 X 339 TO THE MOST SERENE MAJESTY OF CHARLES THE SECOND.* Since the great Augustus vouchsafed to patronize a Work of this nature which was dedicated to him by Vitruvius, I had no reason to apprehend your Majesty would reprove these addresses of mine, if, in presenting you with those Antiquities on which that excellent master fprm'd his studies, I intituled your Majesty to a Work so little inferiour to it, and so worthy to go in pai-agon with it. And indeed to whom could I more aptly inscribe it, a Discourse upon Building; than to so Royal a Builder, whose august attempts have already given so great a splendor to our imperial city, and so illustrious an example to the nation ? It is from this contemplation. Sir, that after I had (by the commands of the Royal Society) endeavour'd the Improvement of Timber and the Planting of Trees, I have advanced to that of Building, as its proper and natural consequent. Not with a presumption to incite or instruct your Majesty, which were a vanity unpardonable ; but by it to take occasion of celebrating your Majesties great example, who use your empire and authority so vi^orthily, as Fortune seems to have consulted hier reason when she poured her favours upon you ; so as I never cast ray eyes on that generous designation in the Epigram,f ■ Ut donem. Pastor, et aedificem. without immediate reflections on your Majesty, who seems only to value those royal advantages you have above others, but that you may oblige. * 26 Oct. 1664. " Being casually in the privy gallery at Whitehall, his Majesty gave me thanks before divers lords and noblemen for my Book of Architecture, and again for my Sylva, saying they were the best design'd and useful for the matter and subject, ye best printed and designed (meaning the taille-douces of the Paralel of Architecture) that he had scene." Memoirs, vol. i. p, 353. t Credis ab hoc me. Pastor, opes fortasse rogare. Propter quod vulgus, crassaque turba rogat ? &c. Est nihil ex istis : superos, ac sidera testor. Ergo quid ? Ut donem. Pastor, et aedificem. Mart. Ep. Lib. 9.— xxiii. 340 and that you may build. And certainly, Sir, your Majesty has con- sulted the noblest way of establishing your greatness, and of perpetuat- ing your memory ; since, whilst stones can preserve inscriptions, your name will be famous to posterity ; and when those materials fail, thie benefits that are engraven on our hearts will outlast those of marble. It would be no paradox, but a truth, to affirm, that your Majesty has already built and repair'd more in three or four years (notwithstanding the difficulties, and the necessi-ty of an extraordinary oeconomy for the publick concernment,) than all your enemies have destroyed in twenty ; nay than all your Majesties predecessors have advanc'd in an hundred, as I can easily make Out, not only by what your Majesty has so magni- ficently designed and carried on at your antient honour of Greenwich, under the conduct of your most industrious and worthy Surveyor, but in those splendid apartments, and other useful reformations for security and delight, about your Majesties Palace at White-Hall; the chargeable covering, first paving, and reformation of Westminster-Hall ; care and preparation for St. Paul's, by the impiety and iniquity of the late confu- sions almost dilapidated ; with what her Majesty the Queen Mother has added to her Palace at Somerset-House, in a structure becoming her royal grandeur, and the due veneration of all your Majesties subjects for the honour she has done both this your native city and the whole nation. Nor may I here omit (what I so much desire to transmit to posterity) those noble and profitable amsenities of your Majesties Plantations, wherein you most resemble the Divine Architect, because your Majesty has proposed in it such a pattern to your subjects as merit their imitation and profoundest acknowledgements, in one of the most worthy and kingly improvements that nature is capable of. I know not what they talk of former ages, and of the now contemporary Princes with your Majesty : these things are visible ; and should 1 here descend to more particulars, which yet were not foreign to the subject of this discourse, I would provoke the whole world to produce me an exampje parallel with your Majesty, for your exact judgment and marvellous ability in all that belongs to the Naval Architecture, both as to its proper terms and more solid use ; in which your Majesty is master of one of the most noble and profitable arts that can be wished in a Prince, to whom God 341 has designed the dominion of the Ocisati, which rendefs your Majesties empire universal ; when by exercising your royal talent and knowledge that wayi you can bring even the Antipodes to ' meet, and the Poles to kiss each other; for so likewise (not in a metaphorical but natural sense) yoar equal and prudent government of this nation has made it good, whilst your Majesty has so prosperously guided this giddy bark thn)ugh such a storm, as no hand save your Majesties could touch the helm, but at the price of their temerity. But to return to that of Archi- tecture again (for it is hard not to slide into the panegyrick when once one begins to speak of your Majesty), I am witness not only how perti- nently you discourse of tbe art, but how judiciously you contrive ; and as in all other princely and magnificent things your notices are extraor- dinary, so I cannot but augure of their effects, and that your Majesty was designed of God for a blessing to this nation in all that can render it happy, if we can have the grace but to discern it, and be thankful for it. This is. Sir, the glorious idea which I have conceiv'd of your Serene Majesty, and which I propose for as emulous an example as any age has hitherto produc'd ; nor can there any thing be added more but that permanency which the rest of your virtues do promise us. If such were those glorious heros of old, who first brought men out of wilder- nesses into walled and well-built cities, that chased barbarity, intro- duced civility, gave laws to Republicks, and to whose rare examples and industry we are accomptable for all that we possess of usefuU in the arts, and that we enjoy of benefit to the Publick : how much cause have we in these nations to rejoyce, that whilst your Majesty pursues these laudable undertakings, that race of demy-gods is not altogether extinct ! And if, after the support of Religion and the establishment of Laws, the perfection of Sciences be the next in order to the well-being of a State, this of Architecture (as one of the most beneficial and useful to mankind) owes her renascency amongst us to your Majesties encou- ragements, and to as many of those illustrious persons as by their large and magnificent structures transcribe your royal example ; in parti- cular, my Lord High Chancellor of England,* my Lord High Trea- ■ * Sir Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon : alluding to his splendid mansion, which he erected on the spot where Albemarle-street is now built, and which was taken down in 16S3. — See Evelyn's Diary, 4to. vol. i. p. 380, 519, *c. 342 surer*, and my Lord the Earl of St. Albansf, whose memories deser this consecration. I have now but one thing more to speak, Sir, and that is for the r putation of the Piece I present to your Serene Majesty. It is indeed translation, but it is withal the marrow and very substance of no le than ten judicious]authors, (viz. Palladio, Scamozzi, Serlio,.Vignola, 1 Barbaro, Catanco, L. B. Alberti, Viola, Bullant, and De Lorme ;) ai of almost twice as many the most noble Antiquities now extant up< the bosom of the earth ; 'twere else a difficult province to conceive ho one should entertain your Majesty without a spirit and a subject wort! your application. There is something yet of addition to it, which is ne\ and of mine own, the defects whereof do supplicate your Majesty's pa don ; to say nothing of the difficulty of rendering a Work of this natu intelligible to the vulgar, and not unworthy the stile of a gentlemai seeing it is not the talent of every one who understands the languag unless he also understand the art. But these may seem to defer to n; own glory, which is conspicuous in nothing so much as in laying it i your Majesty's feet, and the permission of that sacred name to protec Sir, your Majesties ever loyal, most obedient, and faithful subject, . , J. EVELY] Sai/s-Court, 20 Aug. 1664. * Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, who was at this time (1664) building a nob house in Bloomsbury, which was afterwards called Bedford-House, and taken down in 1800. — S Diary, vol. i. p..355. f Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, had a house where Jermyn and St. Albans streets nc stand. St. James's Church is likewise erected on part of the ground belonging to it. 343 SECOND DEDICATION ATTACHED TO THE SAME WORK. TO SIR JOHN DENHAM, KNIGHT OF THE HONOUBABLE OKDER OF THE BATH, SUPERINTENDANT AND SURVEYOR OF HIS MAJESTIES BUILDINGS AND WORKS. Sir, It is now some ten years since, that to gratifie a friend of mine in the country, I began to interpret this " Parallel" (which I think I first brought out of France) ; but other things intervening it was laid £iside, and had so continued without thought of re-assumption, had not the passion of my worthy friend, Mr. Hugh May *, to oblige the publick, and in commiseration of the few assistances which our workmen have of this nature (compared to what are> extant in other countries) found out an expedient, and by procuring a most accurate edition of the plates, encourage me to finish what I had begun ; and to^make a will- ing present of my labour, and of whatever else I was able to contribute to so generous a design. Sir, I am not to instruct you in the merits and use of this excellent" piece ; but it is from your approbation and particular influence, that our workmen ought to esteem it, and believe me too when I aflBrm it, that the ten authors in this assembly, which compose both so many, and (for not being vulgar) unintelligible volume, will neither afford them so full instructions in the art, nor so well inable them to judge and pro- nounce concerning the true rules and maxims of it, as this one little but incomparable collection. You well know, that all the mischiefs and absurdities in the modern structures proceed chiefly from our busie and Gothick .triflings in the composition of the Five Orders ; and that an able workman, who is master of his art, and has a true relish in- deed, carries on all his undertakings with applause and satisfaction : » Architect, and afterwards one of the Commissioners for repairing St. Paul's Church, previously to the great fire. — See Diary, vol. i. p. 371. 344 that there is not, in the whole catalogue of authors who have wril on this subject, a more safe, expedite, and perfect guide than " Parallel ;" where, from the noblest remains of antiquity accura measur'd and perspicuously demonstrated, the rules are laid down ; from a solid, judicious, and mature comparison of modern examp their errours are detected ; so that were but a little more pains ta by our young architects and their subsidiaries, about the easier prii pies of geometry, the rudiments of perspective, and a ready address well designing, we might, by the conversation of this Author al( promise our country, and the age to come, a miraculous improveir of their buildings in a short time. Nor would this be in the leas< the augmentation of their expenses ; since there is nothing costs dea and displeases more, than our undigested contrivances, and those tollerable defects which we have enumerated. It is from the asymi try of our buildings, want of decorum and proportion in our hou that the irregularity of our humours and affections may be shrew discerned : but it is from his Majesties great genius, and the choice has made of such an instrument, that we may hope to see it all form'd ; it being in so worthy an imitation of that magnificent Empe that, touch'd with the like indignation at the encroachments and de mities of the publick edifices and ways, caused a like reformation a] so as we may now affirme of London, as the poet once of Rome, Nunc Roma est, nuper magna taberna fuit * j' * Abstulerat totam. temfirarius iustitor urbem, Inque suo nullum limine limen erat. Jussisti tenues, Germanice, crescere vicos j £t modo quae fuerat semita, facta via est. Nulla catenatis pila est praecincta lagenis ; Nee Praetor medio cogitur ire luto. Stringitur in deusa nee caeca novacula turba: Occupat aut totas nigra popina vias. Tonsor, CaupOj Coquus, Lanius sua limina servant. Nunc Roma est, nuper magna taberna fuit. Mart. lib. vii. epig. 61. The particulars of that reformation in Rome so njuch resemble what his Majesty has manded for the cleansing and enlarging the streets, the demolition of bulks, and other obst that the whole epigram merits the application. 345 that it now begins to have the face of a City indeed. And truly it is an imprbvemient so extraordinary which it has receiv'd since his Ma- jesties gracious influence upon it, that should: I have been silent in his praises, I might justly apprehend mox lapides cldmaturos, that the very stones would cry out and become vocal ; but neither here must I forget what is alone due to you Sir, for the reformation of a thousand defor- mities in the streets, as by your introducing that incomparable form of paving, to an incredible advantage of the publick ; when that which is begun in Holbourn shall become universal, for the saving of wheels and carriages, the cure of noysom gutters, the destruction of encounters, the dispatch of business, the cleanness of the way, the beauty of the object, the ease of the infirm, and the preserving of both the mother and the babe ; so many of the fair-sex and their oif-spring having perished by mischances ("as I am credibly inform'd) from the rugged- ness of the unequal streets, &c *. But I know not. Sir, how these instances may be relished and valu'd amongst the vulgar, nor am I much solicitous ; sure I am, that more has been done for the ornament and benefit of the publick in two years time that your self, with the commissioners who undertook the inspec- tion, have acted, then in five hundred before. They" were not a foolish or impolitick people, who from the very principles of humanity destin'd for the ease of their subjects so many spacious ways, cool fountains, shady walks, refreshing gardens, and places of publick recreation, as well as stately temples, and Giurts of Justice, that religion and the laws might be published with the more pomp and veneration ; and if his Majesty, with your pains and industry, hath contributed to some- thing of all this, it is that for which the whole nation becomes obliged ; as the promoting of such publick and useful works (and especially that of building), a certain indication of a prudent government, of a flourish- ing and happy people : so that if there remain but one thing more to be desired in order to the consummation of its perfect felicity, how in- finitely were it to be wished, that whilst the beauty and benefit of the city increased in one part, the deformity and apparent ruin of it might * These directions were printed two years- before the conflagration. 2y 346 cease on the other ; but this we are to hope for when, to bring this monstrous body into shape, and scatter these ungovernable enormities, either the restraint of building irregularly shall polish the suburbs, or (which I rather could wish) some royal purchase contract and demolish them. But, Sir, I have done, and I know you will pardon this zeal, and accept of this expression of my profound respects from, Sir, Your most humble Servant, J. Evelyn. 347 AMICO OPTIMO ET CHARISSIMO JOHANNI EVELYN O, Armig. E. SOCIET. KEGALI LOND. ETC. JO. BEALE, S.P.D. IN ARCHITECTURAM AB IPSO ANGLICE REDDITAM ET GRAPHICE EXORNATAM. Sic, ubi de Coelo quondam primordia rerum Effulsere, chaos discutiente Deo, Hortus erat primus : tunc tecta, et moenia, et urbes : Tandem et Pyramidum nobile surgit opus. His aliquis molenj subjungit: in aere pendet Hortus ; et unde venit, quaerere jure licet. Nee satis est vitam ducamus in arce beatam Qualem agit aetherea Juppiter ipse domo ; Sed talis superesse juvat post funera longa, (Quamvis hie cineres urnula parva capit) Mausolaea ex in coelos tactura sepulchra Inscriptum Herois nomen ad astra vehunt. Stat quoque, si.favit victoria, grande tropoeura ; A-ttoU^nsque apicem tunc obeliscus ovat. Mox spirare trucem poteris jurare colossum, Sic movet, ut trepidant, et mihi membra labent. Sunt quibus excidium laudi est, et lata ruina ; Atqui exornandi gratia major erit. Parcite mortales, famam prohibete Nepotes j Ni scelus in causa deteriore cadit. Sunt quoque Taenariis quibus est sufFulta columnis Alta et larga nimis, sed minus apta domus : Sumptibus Mc turgent operosa palatia vanis ; Materia exsuperat ; splendor, et ordo deest. Ecce Avibus nidos, Apibus compingere cordi est, Pastor Aristeus quos stupet ipse, favos. 348 Aurea sic textrix subter laquearia Arachne Divini artificis provocat ingenium. Hospitium sibi quxque parant animalcula gratutn ; Solus homo impensis plectitur ipse suis. Machina quid praestet Thuscis tractanda peritis, Angligeriae ut discant, dare Evelyne, facis. Nee tantum debent Volsaeo pristina saecla, Quantum debebunt posterioratibi. Creditur AmphioH; molimina saxea quondam Thebarum in muros concinuisse Lyra : Tu Saxa et Silvas (nam sic decet Qrphea) plectro Aurato in Regnum Tecta coire doces. AN ACCOUNT OF CHITECTS AND ARCHITECTURE; TOGETHER WITH ,N HISTORICAL, ETYMOLOGICAL EXPLANATION OF CERTAIN TERMS, J^acticularl!? affected bp arcijitectsJ. MUCH INLAUGD AND IMPROV D SINCE THE FORMER IMPRESSION. By JOHN EVELYN, Esq. FELLOW OF THE KOYAL SOCIETY. 351 To my most honoured Friend, Sir Christopher Wren, Kt. Surveyor of His Majesties Buildings and Works. Sir, That I take the boldness to adorn this little work with the name c the Master of the Works (whose patronage alone can give it reputa tion) I have no excuse for, but an ambition of publickly declaring th great esteem I have ever had of your virtues and accomplishments, no only in the art of building, but thro' all the learned cycle of the mos usefull knowledge and abstruser sciences, as well as of the most polit and shining, all which is so justly to be allow'd you, that you nee no panegyric or other history to eternize them, than the greatest cit of the universe, which you have rebuilt and beautified, and are stil improving ; witness the Churches, the Royal Courts, Stately Halls Magazines, Palaces, and other public structures; besides what yoi have built of great and magnificent in both the Universities, at Chelsey and in the country; and are now advancing of the Royal Marim Hospital at Greenwich, &c. AH of them so many- trophies of you skill and industry, and conducted with that success, that if the who! art of building were lost, it might be recover'd and found again in St Pauls, the Historical Pillar, and those other monuments of your happ^ talent and extraordinary genius. I have named St. Pauls, and truly not without admiration, as oft a I recall to mind (as frequently I do) the sad and deplorable condition i was in, when (after it had been made a stable of horses and a den o thieves) you, with other gentlemen, and myself, were by the iat< King Charles nam'd Commissioners to survey the dilapidations, and t( make report to his Majesty, in order to a speedy reparation. You wil not I am sure, forget the struggle we had with some who were fo; patching it up any how, (so the Steeple might stand) instead of nev building, which it altogether needed ; when (to put an end to thi contest) five days after, that dreadful conflagration happen'd * out o *See Diary, 27 Aug; and 2 Sept. 1666. 352 whose ashes this Phoenix is risen, and was by providence design'd for you : the circumstance is too remarkable, that I could not pass it over without notice. I will now add do more, but beg your pardon for this confidence of mine ; after I have acquainted you, that the Parallel (to which this was annex'd) being out of print, I was importun'd by the book-seller, to add something to a new impression, but to which I was no way inclin'd, till not long since, going to St. Pauls, to contemplate that august pile and the progress you have made, some of your chief workmen gratefully acknowledging the assistance it had afforded'them ; I took this opportunity of doing myself this honour, who am. Sir, Wotton, 21 Feb. 1696-7. Your most humble Servant, J. JEvELYlf. 353 TO THE READER. The author of the " Parallel of the Ancient Architecture with the Modern" (which many years since I made English) had at the end of his Treatise begun to explain a few of the hard words, technical terms be- longing to the art, the etymologies whereof he thought necessary to interpret ; and, as I said, they are but a few indeed, compared to those which remain, about a dozen at the most ; nor was it necessary he should exceed that number, in a country where workmen are generally more intelligent in the proper expressions of the terms of the arts unto which they addict themselves, than ours for the most part are ; and therefore, if, waving the formal translation of that page (for it exceeds very little more), I have, in lieu thereof, considerably enlarg'd upon this occasion by a more finish'd and compleat enumeration of the several parts and members of the orders, as they gradually succeed orie another in work, illustrated with more full and exact definitions (than by any has yet been attempted for the benefit of our countrymen), I hope my adventure may find both pardon and acceptance. Nor let any man imagine we do at all obscure this design by adorning it with now and then a refin'd and philological research ; since, whilst I seek to gratify the politer students of this magnificent art, I am not in the least dis- dainful of the lowest condescentions to the capacities of the most vulgar understandings ; as far at least as the defects and narrowness of our language will extend, which rather grows and abounds in comple- mental and impertinent phrases, and such froth (as Sir H. Wotton well observes from Gualterus Rivius's incomparable version of Vitruvim in the German tongue, and is now so far out-done by the learned Perrdult), than in the solid improvements of it ; by either preserving or intro- ducing what were truly needful. And really, those who are a little conversant in the Saxon writers clearly discovered, by what they find innovated or now grown obsolete, that we have lost more than we 2z 354 have gain'd; and as to terms of useful arts in particular, forgot- ten and lost a world of most apt and proper expressions which our forefathers made use of, without being oblig'd to other Nations; and what care the French have taken upon this account only, may in part be judged from that pretty though brief Essay des Merveilles de Nature, et des plus Nobles Artifices, 8j-c. ; but especially by the late Dictionaries, wherein the proper terms of the most vulgar as well as more polish'd arts are industriously delivered, whilst (to speak ingenuously) I find very little improvement in the most pretending Lexicons and Nomenclators yet extant, that of Bernardinus Baldus only upon FiVrMmW excepted ; which yet is neither after my method, nor fot our Workmens turn, being a book of price, and written in the most learned tongue. It is a very great deficient indeed, and to be deplor'd, that those industrious compilers did make it no more their business to gratifie" the world with the interpretation of the terms of so many useful arts^I mean the mechanical. Adrianus Junius has deserved well on this occasion, to his great commendation ; and much it were to be wished; that some universal and practical genius would consummate what he has so happily begun, and that not only in the arts illiberal (as they are distinguished) and things artificial, but furnish us likewise with more exact notices of the several and distinct species of natural things ; such as are the true names of birds, fishes, insects, stones, co- lours, &c. in which divers worthy members of the Royal Society * have already made so considerable a progress ; since it is then, and not till then, our Lexicons will have arrived to their desired perfection, and that men will be taught to speak (like orators indeed)- properly on all subjects, and obliged to celebrate their labours. J. Evelyn. * Francis Willughbie, D. D., Merel, Charleton, Waller, Ray, &t. ; and Mr. Harris in his late most useful Lexicon Technicum. 355 AN ACCOUNT ARCHITECTS AND ARCHITECTURE. The knowledge of this sumptuous, magnificent, and useful art, for having been first deriv'd to us from the Greeks, we should not without infinite ingratitude either slight, or innovate those terms which it has pleased them to impose upon the particular members and ornaments belonging to the several orders ; and that as well for the veneration which is due to aivtiquity, as that, by comprehending the signification of them, we may with the, more facility' and address attain to the intel- ligence and genuine meaning of what the masters in this profession have deliverd to us in their several writings and works ; not to insist upon (what is yet not to be despis'd) the decorum of speaking properly in an art which the greatest Princes and Potentates of the earth have vouchsafed to honour by so many signal and illustrious monuments, as do to this day consecrate their memories to posterity. Since the agent does always precede the action, and the person or workman is by natural order before his work, we are by an Architect * to understand, a person skilful in the art of building: the word is 'A|);;j;o our master ; and such a one it seems was that Philo the Athenian ar- ihitect, of whom the orator, Neque eninif siPhihnem ilium Architectum, fui Atheniensibus armamentarium fecit, constat perdiserte populo 'ationem operis sui reddidisse, existimandum est .Architecti potius irtificio disertum, quctm Oratoris, fuisse.* Seeing his knowledge ind ability in this faculty did not at all eclipse and diminish his iloquence and other excellent parts, but rather added to them ; and his I urge to shew that it was no mean thing for a man to arrive to he talents of an accomplished architect, as he that shall take his cha- acter out of Vitruvius will easily conclude ; itaque Architecti (says he) mi sine Uteris contenderunt, ut manibus essent exercitati, non poiuerant fficere ut haberent pro laboribus authoritatem ; as if hands could do ittle in this art for their credit without letters : nay, so universal will his great dictator have him, that in those duodecim necessaria, he ums up no less than twelve rare qualities which he would have him arnish'd withal ; itaque eum et ingeniosum, &c. I will but only 3uch them : 1. He must be docil and ingenious. 2. He must be lite- ite. 3. Skilful in designing and drawing. 4. In geometry. 5, Op- cks. 6. Arithmetick. 7- History. 8. Philosophy. 9. Musick. 10. Me- icine. 11. Nay, in Law; and 12. Astrology; and really, when (as in tie following Chapter) he there assembles his reasons for all this, you ^ill be both satisfied with them, and justify his curiosity. Not that an Lrchitect is obliged to be an accurate Aristarchus in grammar, or an Lristoxenus in musick, an Appelles or a Raphael for designing; in am an exact professor in all these faculties, sed in his non imperitus : iifficient it is he be not totally a stranger to them ; since without let- ;rs he cannot consult with authors ; without geometry and the gra- hical arts, he will never be able to measure out, and cast the area, raw the plot and make the scale ; being ignorant of the opticks he an never well understand the due placing of his lights, distance, lagnitude, and dimensions of ornaments ; by the assistance of arith- * Cicerp de Orat. lib. 1. 357 metick he calculates the proportions of the several orders, sums up his accompts, and makes an estimate of the charge. Being read in history, he comes to discourse of the reasons and original of many particular members and decorations, the height, improvement, and decay of this art; why the Greeks instituted the order of the Caryatides^ and the Per- sian entablatures were supported by slaves ; how the Corinthian capitals came to be adorn'd with foliage, the lonique with a matron-like voluta, &c. By the study of philosophy* he arrives to the knowledge of natural things, and is able to discern the quality of the elements, and the mate- rials which he makes use of. From soihe insight in medicine, he can reason of the temperature and salubrity of the air and situation. Musick will assist him in contriving how in churches, tribunals, and publick theatres, men may with best advantage hear the preachers, magistrates, and actors voices. Without some tincture in the laws, he cannot be se- cure of his title ; and being wholly ignorant of astrology, position, and influences of the celestial bodies, the days, winds, weather, equinoxes* and course of the heavenly orbs (as to bruites) pass over without ob- servations, benefit, or prevention of their effects. To this purpose (though much more at large) Vitruvius. But by this you may see how neces- sary it is that an accomplish'd Master-builder should be furnish'd beyond the vulgar ; and I have been the longer in the repetition, not only that I may advance his reputation, and for endouragement, but to shew that in the proper notion (and as the great Plato has somewhere design'd him) Nullus ArcMtectus utitur manuum operd, sed uteniibus prceest.* An Architect is not to be taken for the commonly illiterate Mechanick (which may bring it into contempt), but for the person who superin- tends, and presides over him with so many advantages. Yet neither is this to the dishonour of those excellent workmen who make use of their hands and tools in the. grosser materials, since God himself, and Nature, the universal builders, are by translation truly styl'd architects, both as to what they have excogitated so wisely, and wrought so artificially. Be this then spoken of the Superintendent in particular, whom, for distinction sake and the character assign'd him, we may name Archi- * Dial, de Regno. See also his Philebus. . 358 t tectus Ingenio : for since to the perfection of an accomplish'd building there were three transcendencies required, 1. strength; 2. utiHty; and 3, beauty, for the apt distribution, decor and fitness, symtnetrie and pro- portion, there was hkewise necessary as many capacities ; and that be- sides the judicious head, there should be a skilful hand ; to which let us add, Architectus Sumptuarius, a full and overflowing purse : since he who bears this mayjustly be also stiled a builder, and that a master one too, as being the person at whose charge and for whose benefit the fa- brick is erected ; and it is indeed the primum inohile which both begins and consummates all designs of this nature; for if that ingre- dient come once to fall short, men build their monuments instead of their houses, and leave marks of dishonour for tables of renown,* Homo iste ccepit cedifi,care, et neqicivit perficere, *■' This man began to build, and was not able to finish." Yet thus I have known some excellent persons abus'd, who, trusting to the computation of either dishonest or unskilful artists, have been forc'd to desist, sit down by the loss, and submit to the reproach. But so it seems would not the Greeks suffer themselves to be over-reach'd, when those great builders of Ephesiansf (^who knew sufficiently what a mischief it was to the publick, as well as private men,) ordain'd it for a law, that if a clerk undertook a work, and spent more than by his calculation it amounted to, he should be obliged to make it good out of his own estate ; whilst they most liberally and honourably rewarded him, if either he came within what was first de- sign'd, or did not much exceed it. And this was esteem'd so reasonable (upon consideration how many noble persons had been undone, and magnificent structures left imperfect), that Vltruvius, J writing to the great Augustus concerning this subject, wishes the same constitution were in force at Rome also. But thus I .have done with our Architecius Sumptuarius. I come to the Manuarius, the third and last, but not the least of our subsidiaries; for in him I comprehend the several artizans and workmen, as masons, stone-cutters, quarry-men, sculptors, plasterers, painters, carpenters, joyners, smiths, glaziers, and as many as are necessary for carrying on * See 31 . Eccles. 8. f Vitr. in Praef. lib. 10. + 2. Reg. 22. 7. 359 of a building till it be arriv-d to the perfection of its first idea. But tho' it is not (as I said) exjpected that these should trouble themselves with much learning, or have any thing to do with the accomplishments of our Master Superintendent, yet, since an exact and irreproachable piece of architecture should be koXo^uv totms Mathesetas, the flower and crown as it were of aU the sciences mathematical, it were infinitely desirable that even every vulgar workman, whose calling is conversant about building, had attain'd to some degree of competent knowledge in the moi'e easy ajid useful principles of those lineary arts, before they were admitted to their freedom, or employed in designs of moment. And truely, if a thorough insight of all these (as undoubtedly they are) be necessary to a good artist, I know no reason but such a person (however it hath pleased our Universities to employ and decree their chaires) might with very just reason be also numbred inter liberalium discipUnarum Pro- fessoreSy and not thrust out as purely mechanical, inter opifices, a conversation hitherto only admitted them ; as if talking, speculation, and theories, were comparable to useful demonstrations and experimental knowledge. In a word, the very name import's an excellency above other sciences ; so as when the orator* would expresis a superiority above them, for its vast extent and comprehension, he mentions Architecture with the first, distinct from the illiberal. Great pity then I say it is, tha:t amOngst the professors of humanity (as they call it) there should not be some lectures and schools endowed and furnished with books, instruments, plots, types and modells of the most excellent fabricks both in- Givil- and Military Architecture, where these most noble and neces- sary arts might be taught in the English and vulgar tongue, retriev'd to their proper and genuine significations ; and it Is to be hoped, that when his Majesty shall perfect his royal Palace of White-Hall according to the design, he will, in emulation of those heroes, Francis the First, Henry the Fourth, Cosimo de Medices, the Dukes of Urbin, Richelieu, and other munificent spirits, destine some apartments for the ease and encouragement of the ablest workmen in this as in all other useful, princely, and sumptuous arts : I mean for Printers, Painters, Sculptors, * Gic. de Offic, 1. 2, 360 Architects, &c. by such liberal honoraries as may dra^w them ;frqm all parts of the world to celebrate his Majesty, by their works, to posterity, and to improve the nation. From such a bounty and provision as this it appears to have been, which made Vitruvius* to leave us those his in- comparable books, that we have now enjoy'd for so many ages ; for so he acknowledges it to the great Augustus, Cum erigo eo benejicifx essem ohligatuSi ut ad exitum vitce non haherem inopice timorem, &c. I might upon this occasion speak something here concerning the matter and form of buildings, which, after the persons who undertake them, are their most solid and internal principles ; but I purposely pass them over at present, because they do not properly belong to this Dis- course, but to some more intire Treatise of the whole art than is yet extant amongst us, and to be delivered by some industrious person who shall oblige the nation with a thorough examination of what has already been written by Vitruvius, 1. 2. c. 3. ad 9. ; Palladio 1. c. 2. ; I^eon Alberti 1. 2. c. 45. 46.; Don Barbaro, 1. 11. SirH. Wotton, in his concise and useful Theorems ; Desgodetz, D'Avilder, Perrault, Blondel, and others ; and in what shall be found most beneficial for our climat. It were, I ^ay, becoming our great needs that some ingenious person did take this in hand, and advance upon the principles already ^establish'd, and not so acquiesce in them as if there were a non ultra engraven upon our cor lumns like those of Hercules, after which there remained no more to be discovered ; at least in the apprehension of our vulgar workmen, who, for want of some more solid directions, faithful and easy rules in this nature, fill as well whole cities as private dwellings with rubbish and a thousand infirmities, as by their want of skill in the profession, with the most shameful incongruities and inconveniences in all they take in hand ; and all this for want of canons to proceed by, and humility to learn, there being hardly a nation under heaven more conceited of their understanding? and abilities, and more impatient of direction, than our ordinary mechanicks : for let one find never so just a fault with a work- man, be the same of what mistery soever, immediately he shall reply, " Sir, I do not come hither to be taught my trade ; I have serv'd'an ap- * Vitruv. in Prsef. ad Lib. 1. 361 prenticeship, and have wrought e're now with gentlemen that have been satisfied virith my work;" and sometimes not without language of re- proach, or casting down his tools, and going away in wrath, for such I have frequently met withal. I do not speak this to diminish in the least from the capacity and apprehension of pur nation who addict themselves to any of the most polite and ingenious professions, but to court them to more civility, and to humble the ignorant ;. for v/e daily find that wh^n once they arrive to a thorough inspection and address in their trade,s, they paragon, if not exceed, even the most exquisite of other countries, as we may see in that late reformation and improvement, of our lock- smiths-work, joyners, cabinet-makers, and the like, who from very^ vul- gar and pitiful artists, are now come to produce works as curious for the filing, and admirable for their dexterity in contriving, as any we meet with abroad ; and in particular to our smiths and joyners, they, excell all other nations whatsoever. But as little supportable are another, so.rt of workmen, who, from a good conceit of. their abilities, and some lucky jobb. (as they call it), do generally ingross all the work they can hear of, while in the mean time they disdain almost to put their own hands to the tool, but fpr the most part employ their apprentices, or some other ignorant journey-men; as if the fame of their masters abilities did any thing contribute to the well performance of work undertaken ; whilst in the interim he hardly appears himself till all the faults be slubber'd over, the remedy either impossible or expensive, and our master ready to receive his money, which such gentlemen mechanicks commonly consume on ease and bravery, being puffed up with an empty, conceit of their own abilities, which (God knows) is very indiflFerent, and the less for want of exer- cise and humility ; a practice contrary to the usage of all other nations, that even such as by their knowledge in this kind have meritoriously attained to the titles of military dignity, have notwithstanding pursued their employments and callings in personal cares and assiduous labours, to their eternal fame so long as one stone shall lie upon another in this -world, as I could abundantly exemplifie in the works of Cavalieri Fon- tane, Bramanti, Sansovino, Baglione, Bernini, Fiamingo, &c. whose egregious labours, both before and since the accumulation of their hq- 3 A 362 nours, do sufficiently justify what I report concerning them. And that all such may know I reproach no man out of spleen or the least animo- sity to their persons (for such as are not guilty will never be offended at my plainness, or take this for a satyr), I cannot but exceedingly regret the want of more acquaintance in these so necessary and becoming arts, even in most of our nobility and gentry, vifho either imagine the study of Architecture to be an absolute non-necessary, or, forsooth, a diminution to the rest of their education, from whence proceeds that miserable loss of so many irrecoverable advantages during their travels in other coun- tries, as appears at their return ; whereas, if they were truly considered, there is nothing which does more properly concern them, as it contri- butes to their external honour, than the effects of this illustrious art. Besides, these being persons of better parts, are most likely to be fur- nished with the best abilities to learn, and so consequently enabl'd to examine, and direct such as they shall set on work, without reproach either to their conveniency or expence when they at any time build, not forgetting the ornament and lustre which by this means rich and opulent structures do add to the commonwealth; there remaining at this day no one particular for which Egypt, Syria, Greece, nay Rome herself, (beheld in all their state, wisdom, and splendor,) have been more admir'd and celebrated, than for the glory, strength, and magnificence of their incom- parable buildings. And even at present, the most noble youth of Italy are generally so well furnish'd with instructions touching this laudable art, that the knowledge of Architecture (and to speak properly in its terms, &c.) is universal, and so cherish'd, even in men of obscure ex- traction, that (as is already instanc'd) Architects (I mean the manuary as well as ingeniary) have been, and are yet often rewarded with knight^ hood, and the art profess'd as a most becoming and necessary accomplish- ment in divers of their academies. Add to this, the examples of so many great and illustrious persons, as (without mentioning those our master has recorded in the Preface to his seventh Book) I might here bring upon this theatre, famous for their skill and encouragement of this sumptuous art : Emperours, Kings, Popes, Cardinals and Princes innu- merable, who have all of them left us the permanent monuments of it in the several places of their dominions, besides the infinite advantage 363 of well managing of great and publick expenees, as well as the most private and oeconomical, an handsom and well-contriv'd house being built at a far less charge than commonly those irregular congestions, rude and brutish inventions, which generally so deform and incommode the several habitations of our gentry both in city and country. But I have done, and I hope all that love and cherish these arts, and particularly that of Architecture, will not be offended at this zeal of mine in bespeaking their esteem of it; since, if I have said any thing in reproof of the errors either of the persons who pretend to it, or of the works which they do to its disgrace, I have only spoken it that both may be re- formed and made the better. But least whilst I thus discourse of the ac- complishments of our artists, and defects of the pretenders, I my self be found Logodsedalus, and as they sayj Architectus verhorum only, I proceed from the person to the thing. Architecture, consider'd as an art, was doubtless (as all others were) very inean and imperfect at first; when from dark caverns, hollow trees, despicable and sorry hovells and cabanes, made with their rude trunks, ^over'd with sods of turf or sedge, to protect themselves from the inju- ries of the weather, and wild beasts (as at present savage people do), men liv'd not much better iaccommodated than beasts themselves, wan- dering from place to place, either to hunt, and in quest of food, or to find pasture ; where like the Nom^des, with little care or labour, they make them huts again, to shelter them selves as before; till coming into some more fertile and fruitful country* and finding no more necessity of straying farther, or removing so often, they then 'tis likely begun to build more substantially and commodiously ; and as plenty, their families, and civi- lity increas'd, began to inlarge, and make their habitations as well less rudely, as more convenient ; proceeding in tract of time to great polite- ness, and to that height of splendor and magnificence, as at last inge- nious men, from long experience still advancing in improvements, began to frame such rules and precepts for building, as should answer to all those perfections desirable in a building namely, solidity, use, and beauty ; and this art was called Architectura,a. term deriv'd from the Greek substantive 'ApxtremovTifAec, and which is by some taken for the art it self, by others for the work, 364 cedificio ipso et opera (hj us for both'), is thus defin'd : scientia pluri* bus disciplinis et variis eruditionibus ornata, cujijls judicio probantur omnia, quce a cceteris artibus perficiuntur, opera. Architecture (says our master Vitruvius) is a science qualified with sundry other arts, and adorn'd with variety of learning, to whose judgment and approbation all other works of art submit themselves. Or rather, in short, and as effectual, citfus prceceptis diriguntur, et judicio probantxi^, ^Ci for so it seems to be more explicite; since in a geometrical problem there are both the construction or direction, operis faciendi, which these Prcecepta define ; and also the demonstration, or probation, ope- ris jam facti, which is specified by the judicium in the Vitruvian defi- nition. I conceive, therefore, the first part to be the more essential and inseparable ; the latter to be but the result of the former, and no more ingredient into the art, than the image of ones face in a glass is consti- tutive of the man. But to forbear any farther gloss, you see what a large dominion it has, and I might go on : Ea nascitur ex fabrica et ratioeinatione, to shexy that she is the daughter of Building and Demonstration. Then (for so I aifect to render it) that building is the result of an assiduous and ma- nual practice or operation upon apt materials, according to the model propounded ; and, lastly, that our ratiocination is an ability of explicating what we have done by an account of the just proportions. In a word, it is the art of building weill, which (taken in the large sense) compre- hends all the sorts and kinds of buildings whatsoever, of which there are more especially three, which, though differing in their application, de- sign, and purpose, are yet of neere relation to one another, and therefore not improperly under the same denomination with their respective ad- juncts of distinction. For instance^ the building of ships, and other vessels for sailing, war, and commerce, &c. is called Naval Architecture ; the art of fortification and defence of places. Military Architecture ; which, tho' under the same rules and general principles whereby to work and proceed (but indeed making use of different terms of art), yet pass they under the same general name of Architecture. Now for as much as there's only one of these which properly concerns the present subject (as bdng indeed the most eminent, and first in order), we are here to 365 understand by Architecture, the art and skill of civil building for dwel- ling-houses; commodious habitations, and more publick edifices. What pretence this part of Architecture has to both the other kinds, namely, the Naval and Military, the foundation and building of cities, walls, towers, magazines, bridges, ports, moles, and havens, abundantly shew ; together with what our great master Vitruvius has taught in the construction of divers machines' and warlike engines, as well for oflFence as defence; and to shew how reconcileable all these diiFerent sorts of buildings are to one another, we have a modern, but an illustrious in- stance, in that surprizingly magnificent piece of art, the Pentagonal Palace erected for Cardinal Alexander Furneze at Gaprarola (within twenty miles of Rome), by that excellent and skilful architect Vignola, one of the first rank and class of artists in the foregoing Parallel. With reason therefore, as well as right, has the Surveyor of his Majes- ties works and buildings, both the Military as well as Civil Architec- ture properly under his intendency and inspection, by a grant (as I have heard) of many hundred years past. But To enlarge on the several heads. of Civil Architecture (of which there are verv many), would be to extend this discourse to a length not so proportionable to that which is designed. Let it then suffice to take no- tice, that it is the ancient Greek and Roman Architecture only which is here intended, as most entirely answering all those perfections required in a faultless and accomplish'd building ; such as for so many ages were so renowned and reputed by the universal suffrages of the civiliz'd world, and would doubtless have still subsisted, and made good their claim, and what is recorded of them, had not the Goths, Vandals, and other barbarous nations, subverted and demolish'd them, together with that glorious empire, where those stately and pompous monuments stood ; introducing in their stead a certain fantastical and licencious manner of building, which we have since call'd Modern (or Gothic rather), cbn- gestions of heavy, dark, melsLncholy, and monkish piles, witl^out any just proportion, use, or beauty, compar'd with the truly Antient. So as when we meet with the greatest industry, and expensive carving, full of fret and lamentable imagery, sparing neither of pains nor cost, a judicious spectator is rather distracted and quite confounded, than tajjch'd with 366 that admiration which results from the true and just symmelrie, regular proportion, union and disposition, great and noble manner, which those august and glorious fabrics of the ancients still produce. It was after the irruption and swarmes of those truculent people from the North, the Moors and Arabs from the South and East, over-running the civiliz'd world, that wherever they fix'd themselves, they soon beg-an to debauch this noble and useful art ; when, instead of those beautiful orders, so majestical and proper for their stations, becoming variety, and other ornamental accessories, they set up those slender and misquine pillars, or rather bundles of staves, and other incongruous props, to sup- port incumbent weights, and pondrous arched roofs, without entabla- ture ; and tho* not without great industry (as M. D' A viler well ob- serves), nor altogether nakedof gaudy sculpture, trite and busy carvings, 'tis such as rather gluts the eye than gratifies and pleases it with any reasonable satisfaction. For proof of this (without travelling far abroad)^ I dare report my self to any man of judgment, and that has the least taste of order and magnificence, if, after he has look'd awhile upon King Henry the Vllth's Chappel at Westminster, gaz'd on its sharp angles, jetties, narrow lights, lame statues, lace and other cut- work, and crinkle crankle, and shall then turn his eyes on the Banqueting-House built at White-Hall by Inigo Jones after the antient manner ; or on what his Majesties present Surveyor, Sir Christopher Wren, has lately advanc'd at St. Paul's, and consider what a glorious object the desigu'd cupola, portico, colonnades, and other (yet unfinish'd) parts, will then present the beholder : or compare the Schools and Library at Oxford with the Theatre there ; or what he has lately tuilt at Trinity College in Cam- bridge, and since all these at Greenwich and other places (by which time our home traveller will begin to have a just idea of the antient and modern Architecture) ; I say, let him well consider, and compare them judiciously, without partiality and prejudice, and then pronounce which of the two manners strikes the understanding as well as the eye with the more majesty and solemn greatness ; tho' in so much a plainer and simple dress, conforme to the respective orders and entablature, and ac- cordingly determine to whom the preference is due. Not, as we said, that there is not something of solid, and odly artificial too, after a sort ; 367 but then the universal and unreasonable thic]kness of the walls, clumsy buttresses, towersj sharp pointed a^rches, doors, and other apertures, ^vithout proportion ; nonsensical insertions of various marbles imperti- nently plac'd, turrets and pinnacles thick set with monkies and chimseras (and abundance of buisy work and other incongruities), dissipate and break the angles of the sight, and so confound it, that one cannot consi- der it with any steadinesSj where to begin or end ; taking off from that noble air and graudure, bold and graceful manner, which the antients had so well and judiciously established. But in this sort have they, and their followers ever since, fill'd not all Europe alone, but Asia and Aft'ica besides, with mountains of stone, vast and gygantic buildings in- deed, but not worthy the name of Architecture. Witness (besides fre- quent erections in these kingdoms, inferior to none for their utmost performances) what are yet standing at Westminster, Canterbury, Salis- bury, Peterborow, Ely, Wells, Beverly, Lincoln, Gloucester, York, Durham, and other cathedrals and minsters ; what at Utrecht, Har- lem, Antwerp, Strasburg, Basil, in the lower and upper Germany ; at Amiens, Paris, Rouen, Tours, Lyons, &c. in France; at Milan, Ve- nice, Florence, nay in Rome herself; in Spain, at Barges, and Seville, with what the Moors have left in Athambrant, Granada, the Santa So-. phia at Constantinople, that of the Temple of the Sepulchre at Jerusalem (at the decadence at least of the art) ; the Zerifs Palace at Morocco, &c. ; besides the innumerable monasteries and gloomy cells, built in all these places by the Christians, Greeks, Latines, Armenians, Moors, and others, since the ruin of the empire ; and compare them (almost numberless as they are) with one St. Peter's at Rome only, which, with the rest of those venerable churches, superb and stately palaces there and ait Naples, Florence, Genoa, Escurial, Paris, Amsterdam, &c. were yet all but soi'ry buildings, till Bramante, Raphael, Mich. Angelo, Palladio, Bernini, and other heroes and masters of our Parallel, recover'd and even raised this art to life again, and restor'd her to her pristine splendor and mag- nificence, after so tedious and dismal a night of ignorance and supersti- tion, in which Architecture had lain buried in rubbish, and sadly de- form'd for so many ages. The same may likewise be affirm'd of all those other arts attendant upon her, Sculpture and Painting especially, and 368 indeed of I«etters, and all good learning too, which had about this time their resuscitation also. In a word, and after all that has been said of Architecture, ancient or modern, 'tis not we see enough to build for strength alone (for so those Gothic piles we find stand their ground^, and the Pyrainids of ^gypt have out-lasted all that art and labour have to shew), or indeed for bare accommodation only, without due proportion, order, and beauty, and those other agreements and genuine characters of a perfect and consummate buildipg ; and therefore an art not so easily attain'd by every pretender, nor in truth at all, without a more than. or- dinary disposition, accompanied withjudgmentj industry, and application, due instruction, and the rales of art subservient to it. Thus accom- plish'd, an Architect is perfectly qualified to answer all the transcenden- cies of this noble art, which is to build handsomly, solidly, and usefully. We have already spoken of workmen, and manuary assistants, in the foregoing paragraphs; without whose more than ordinqj?:y skill and diligence, the learned'st architect mistakes the shadow for substance, umbram non rem consecutus videtur, and may serve to rear a tabernacle, not build a temple, there being as much difference between speculation and practice in this art, as there is between a shadow and a substance. But with what advantages those persons proceed who both know and can apply, I have already demonstrated; and when, we consider that the whole art consists in the most, exact and elegant order imaginable, it is not to be wondered there have been so few able men of the profession. Sir H. Wotton, who reckons those two parts for one, that is, the fixing of the model to a full expression of the first idea, passes (with our master) to the species or kinds of this disposition. Taxis, or, as Architects call it, Ordonance, as defined by our master to be that which gives to every part of a building the just dimension relating to its uses, Mr. Perrault supposes neither so explicit, nor as the thing it self requires, or answerable to the intention, which he takes to consist in the division of the plan or spot of ground on which one intends to build, so to be apportioned and laid out (as to the dimension of the re- spective parts, referring to their use) as consists with the proportion of the whole and intire fabric, which in fewer wor^s, I conceive diflFers little from the determinate measures of what's assigned to compose the several 369 rtments j to ^hich some add, that which givies the utmost perfection 11 the parts and members of the building. But (to proceed with [earned commentator) 'tis the judicious contrivance of the plan or el, which he means by ordonance here : as when, for instance, the t, the hall, lodgings, and other rooms, are neither too large nor too little; that the court afford convenient light to the appartments about it, be large enough for usual access ; that the hall be of fit capacity to ive company ; the bed-chambers for persons of quality, and others ; Ise when these divisions are either too great or too small, with re- it to the place, as a very large court would be to a little house, or a e chamber in a great and noble palace ; whereas diathesis, disposi- , is where all the parts and members of a building are assign'd their and proper places, according to their quality, nature, office, rank, genuine collocation, without regard to the dimension or quantity, ch is another consideratio^i, as parts of Architecture, tho' still with tion to its perfection. Thus the vestibule or porch should precede hall ; the hall the parlor, next the withdrawing-room, which are of smonie, I speak (as with us in England) where the first floore is imonly so composed of; the anti-chambers, bed-chambers, cabinets, leries, and rooms of parade and state in the second stage, suitable to expense and dignity of the owner. I say nothing of the height, and sr dimensions, because there are establish'd rules ; but it is what I e generally observ'd gentlemen (who are many times at considerable rges in otherwise handsome and convenient houses) most of all to in ; not allowing decent pitch to the respective roomes and appart- its, which I find they constantly repent when "tis too late. One uld seldom therefore allow less than fourteen feet to the- first floore, Ive or thirteen to the second, in a dwelling-house of any considerable ility ; to greater fabrics, and such as approach to palaces, 16, 18, 20, with regard to other capacities. Nor let the less benign temper of clime (compared with other countries) be any longer the pretence ; le if the building and finishing be stanch, the floors well lay'd, ap- tures of doors and windows close, that objection is answered. The le rules as to the consequence of rooms and oeconomie is to be ob- red in the distribution of the other oflices, even the most inferior, in 3 B 370 which the curious consult their health above all conveniency, by design- ing their best lodging-chambers towards the sun-rising ; and so libraries, cabinets of curiosities, and galleries, more to the north, affording the less glazing and fittest light of all other to pictures, &c. unless where some unavoidable inconvenience forbid it. Another great mistake, I likewise have observ'd to be the cause of many errors as incurable, namely, a fond, avaritious, or obstinate resolution of many, who, having choice of situations, for the sparing of an old kitchen, out-house, lodge, or vulgar office, nav and sometimes of an antient wall, a fine quick -set hedge, particular tree or two, or tiie like, continue to place the new building upon the old foundation, tho' never so much awry and out of all square, and (as often I have seen) neere some bank of earth which cannot be mov'd ; pleas'd with front or gaudy out-side, whilst all is gloomy and melancholy within, and gives occasion of censure to the judicious, and reproach to others ; in a word, I have very rarely or as seldom found a new building joyn'd with any tolerable decency or advan- tage to an old one, as a young and beautiful virgin to an old, decay'd, and doating husband. I might almost affirm as much concerning re- paires, where there are great dilapidations ; since by that time they have calculated all expences of pulling down and patching up, they might have built intirely new from the ground with the same, and oftentimes with less charge, but with abundance more beauty and conveniency. Frequent instances of like nature might I produce, and of such as have too late repented j but I am to beg pardon for this transcursion, for which I have no other apology than that since another edition of this piece is never likely to come under my hand again, I have taken the liberty of this to speake my thoughts the more freely ; not without hope that some may be edified by it, and have cause to thank me for it. To return therefore whence I diverted, I now proceed to the proper argument and design of this discourse, which concerns the terms of Ar- chitecture, with such improvements as fall in with the subject; not that our politer workmen do not understand them well, but for the benefit and Instruction of the less knowing, or such who, tho' learn'd, and knowing in other arts, may haply not have much consider'd this : and the first is. 371 lehno^aphy, hy which we are to understand the very first design aiKl ordinance of a work or edifice, together with every partition and open- ing drawn by rule and compass upon the area or floor, by artists often call'd the geometrical plan or plat-forme, as in our reddition of the Pa- rallel. The Greeks would name it J^couj •y§ei(f>^, vestigii description or rather vestigium operis, the superficial efl^ormation of the future work, which our ground-plot does fully interpret. This is properly the talent and work of the chief Architect or Surveyor himself (and indeed the most abstruse and difficult), by which he expresses his conception and idea for the judicious collocation, idoneous and apt disposition, right casting and contrivement of the several parts and rooms, according to their distinct offices and uses ; for as ordonation imports the quantity, so does this the quality of the building: but of this already. To this succeeds Orthography, or the erect elevation of the same in face or front, de- scrib'd in measure upon the former idea, where all the horizontal lines are parallels. Some do by this comprehend the sides likewise (but so will not I) to be seen as well within as without the model. It is in truth but the simple representation of that part opposite to the eye of the beholder, and thence by Italian I'^lzato, or VImpiedi Facciata, and frontispiece, without shadows or other deceptions, and the second species of disposition. The last is Scenography, or, as some, Sciography, which is the same object ele- vated upon the same draught and centre in all its optical flexures, dimi- nutions and shadows, together with a fbre-shortning of a third side, so as the whole solid of the edifice becomes visible in perspective, as th^ say, because compos'd of the three principal lines used in that art,^ viz. that of the plan or plot, belonging to the first idea ; that of the horizon or eye-line, which denotes the second ; and the line of distance, which makesthe t bird, with all its adumbrations and shadowings, which dis- tinguishes it from what they call the profile, signified by the edging stroaks, by some call'd out-lines, and contours only, without any of this solid finishing; From all which it appears, that not the bare idea, or species (as the term is in Vitruvius), or as others, the various kinds of disposition is to be understood, but the several designs and representa- 372 tlons of the division. Seeing, in truth, these three draughts upon pa] belong as much to the ordonance as the disposition, shewing and ( scribing the measures and dimensions of the inspeetive parts, order, 2 position. From these three ideas then it is that same Eurythmia, n jestic and Venusta species ^difidi does result, which creates tl agreeable harmony between the several dimensions, so as nothing see disproportionate, too long for this, or too broad for that, but correspoi in a just and regular symmetry and consent of the parts with the who! for symmetry is the parity and equality between the parts opposite, as one be not bigger, higher, longer, sViorter, closer, or wider than 1 other. Suppose a column swelling more at one side than the other, a not a? those who thought it to consist in the proportion of some princi] part or member only, capital^ or cornice, grosser or projecting fartl than the order permits, which seem two different things ; whilst pi portion among Architects consists in such an agreement and' consent we find in every well limb'd and compos'd living animal, of whate^ species or kind soever, where the due make of each member of the bo denominates the compleatness of the figure, be it statue, or the life; a the same in building, and the parts thereof; in a wordj where con^ nience, strength, and beauty meet, and render it accompllsh'd. Lasti Decor, which is not only where the inhabitant and habitation su seeing that is many times accidental, but where a building, and partic larly the ornaments thereof, become the station and occasion, as Viti vius expressly shews in appropriating the several orders to their natu; affections ; so as he would not have set a Corinthian column at the e trance of a prison, nor a Tuscan before the portico of a church, as soi have done amoBg us, with no great regard to the decorum. Here, thesi fore, it is that the judgment of an Architect ought to be consulted ; sir even in the disposition of the offices of our most private houses, we fii no where greater absurdities committed, whilst we many times find t kitchen where the parlour should have been ; and that in the first a best story, which should have been consigned to the lowermost and t worst. Philander seems to, be in some doubt whither the Architect did af all this make a model of his future work, but at last resolves it in t 37S affirmative for many reasons, Ua enim futura deprehenduntur errata^ et minimo impend/iof rmlhque mcommodoi Sec. ; for so (says he) future errors may be timely prevented, with little cost, and virithout atiy trou- ble, before the remedy proves incorrigible. Ndw tho' perhaps an ac-i compUsh'd Architect needs it not, yet as there is nothing eertahily spar'd to less purpose, and more to the detriment of builders than the small expence of making this prototype, so it has been known that some ex- cellent masters have without reproach, caused several to be made of th€ same building, and for the better, and whifch should be fram'd with all its orders and dimensibns, by the assistance of some skilful joyner, or other ingenious artist in some slight material, which may be to remove; uncover, and take in pieces, for the intuition of every contignation, par- tition, passage, and aperture, without other adulteration by painting or gaudy artifice, but in the most simple manner as Sir H. Wotton pru- dently advises, for reasons most material aiid unanswerable ; this is by some supplied with a perpendicular section of the orthographical eleva- tion, which lets the eye into the rOotns in front only ; the model intb the whole ; but from all which we may deduce how absolutely necesaary it is that an Architect have more than a vulvar dexterity in the art of designing and drawing, quee autem confeVant, into, quce sint architectd penitljis necessarid ex artibus, hcec sunt, picturct et mathematica ; in cceteris doctusne sif, non lahoro : so the Patriarch, lib. 9, upon that of our master, lib. 1. c. 1. Peritus Graphi(Jbeatioo, which we mean by the entablature, for both these terms sigoifie but one and the same thing, viz. the archi- trave, freeze, and cornice ; which 1 therefore the more precisely note, because some writers apply it only to the very cover and upmost top of 403 ihe orders; but so does not our country-iflan John Shute, whose book being printed anno 1584,* (and one of the first that was published of -Ai-ehitecture iii the English tongue) keeps rathei" to the antient terms than by mixing them with such barbarous ones as were aftferwai'ds intro- duc'd, indanger the confusion of young students, and siiich as applied themselves to the art. Finally, to reform another riii^tialtfe I think good to note that where we find coronix in otki* authorsj it is- rath«r meant for all that moulding projecting over the dye or square of the pedestal (by some call'd cimd) then this conclusive superior member of the en- tablature which we name the cornicei But I have done, nor needs there more be added for the perfect intfellig&rice of the most minute member, and ornament mentioned in this PctralM', or I ctniceive in any other author whatsoever treating concfertiing this Art, aiid naturally ap- plicable to the order, by which we are all along to- understand certain rules and members agreed on for the proportions and differences of co- lumns, the characters, figures and ornd.aiehts belonging to every part and memjber, whether bigger or lesser, plain or ittrich'd : or as others, a regular arrangement of the principal and constituent parts of a co- lumn, from whence there insults that cortiposition which gives it useful- ness, with grace and beauty. This for cdfisisting then of the Several shapes and measures, obliges us to say soinething rtiorfe of proportion, as being indeed the very foundation of Architecture it self, rising, as We shew, from the representation of natural things ; noi'ife it in thife Art only applicable to the dispositions and kinds of thofee edifices (which we have already spoken of), but to eVefy individual meihbei' of an orffer, which Vitruvius will have t&k^n from the rcgtilar' dimensions arid prd- portions of the parts of the humane body, in relatiott to any one moderate measure of the same body, diflFereiltly multiplied iti several parts : as for instance, the head for an eighth part of the whole ; twice from tliie point of one shoulder to the other extream, &c. ; thiice in the arm, four times from the hip downwards, &c. ; or, as Albert Durer, by multiplyirig; the • In folio, and entitled, " The first and chief Grounds of Architecture vsed in all the auncient and famous Monyments; with a farther and more ample Discourse vpon the same than hitherto hath been set out by any other." 1 563, and reprinted in 1584. 404 face from the. bottom of the chin to the upper part of the forehead, reckons the whole length to be ten, et sic de cceteris ; according to which the diameter of a column shall be ten times in the height of the Corin- thian ; the intercolumniation eustyle, two and a quarter, &c. of which let the curious consult our master learned interpreter^ lib. _ 3. cap. 1. where he discourses of positive and unalterable establishments ; whilst that which we mean by proportion here, is the scale by which all the parts are regujated as to their just measures and projectures, and this has by Artists been call'd the Moduli or as Vitruvius (and some will Have it) ordonation ; ex- plained by modica commoditas, to be taken for the parts or quantities by which the several members of an order are calculated and adjusted in their composition. In the mean time, to avoid all uncertainties and per- plexity of measures differing in most countries, some dividing into more, others into fewer parts, to the great ease of both Architect* and Work^ men, by Modtds* is to be understood the diameter or semi-diameter ofa column of whatever order, taken from the rise of the shaft or superior member of the base, namely, at the thickest and most inferior part of the cylinder ; from whence Monsieur de Chambray (following Palladio and Scamozzi), taking the semi -diameter divided into 30 equal parts or minutes, make it to be the universal scale. Now tho' Architects gene- rally measure by the whole diameter (excepting only in the Doric, which they reckon by the half,) it makes no alteration here, so as the workman may take which he pleases. We proceed next to the orders , thetpse^yes ; nor let it be thought a needless repetition, if having given the learner (for to such I only speak) so minute and full a description of all those parts and members whereof the several orders are compos'd and distinguish'd, I go on to shew how they are put together in work, by what they have in common, or peculiar to denominate the species, and bring the hitherto scattered and dispersed limbs into their respective bodys. We have already shew'd (speaking of capitals) that a column, which is strictly the naked post or cylinder only, does not assume the name * Note, that to distinguish it from Modell/by which is signified the type (or geometrical i'epre- sentation ofa building) this is to be read with the fifth vowel, that by the second. 40S and dignity of any drderj till compleatly qualified with those parts antJ accessaries which give it name, pre-eminence and rank ; but being sd distinguish'd, they are to Architects what the several Modes are in Mixsic^ and carminum genere among the Poets: all buildings whatso- ever coming properly under the regiment of some one or other of them, or at least ought to do, and they are five (according to the vulgar ac- count), namely, Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composita. But since the first and last of these are not admitted by our great niasters, as legitimate orders (to which indeed the antient Greeks claim only title), we might with Vitruvius, and our author of the "Parallel," leave them to bring up the rear; did not custom, as we said, and common use suflB- ciently justify our assigning this place for the Tjisean, Rustic, or by whatever name dignified, or disgrac'd : for being seldom found in the antient fabrics of the Romans themselves, •by which name it is also call'd, it seems yet to challenge some regard from its resemblance to those plain and simple rudiments of those primi- tive buildings, where they laid a beam on the top of two forked posts, newly cut and brought out of the forest, to support that which gave covering and shade to the first Architects, such as they were, and we have descrlb'd; till time and experience, which mature arid perfect all things, brought it into better form and shape ; when the Asiatic, Ly- dians, who are said first to have peopled Italy, brought it into that part of it call'd Tuscany. Nor let it altogether be despis'd because of its native plainness, which rarely admits it into buildings where ornament is ex- pected ; since besides its strength and suflSciency (which might com- mute for its want of other beauty, and give place at the ports and en- trances of great cities, munitions, magazines, amphitheatres, bridges,: prisons, &c. that require strength and solidity), we find It capable also of such illustrious and majestic decorations, as may challenge all the Grecian orders to shew any thing approaching to it, so long as those three famous Columns, those of Trajan and Antoninus's at Rome, and a third of Theodosius's at Constantinople, stand yet triumphant, and braving so many thousands of the other orders, which lie prostrate, bu- ried in their dust and ruins. Nor is this the first example (as some pretend) as appears by that antient Pillar erected to Valerius Maxlmus, 406 sirnam'd Gorvinus, on which was plac'd a raven, in memory of what happen'd in the famous duel between that hero and the gygantic Gaule. Thus whilst the rest of the orders are assisted to support their charge and heavy burdens by their £eIlo\vs, and a conjugation- of entablature not allow'd to this, the Tuscan stands alone like an island, steady and as immoveable as a rock. This column, with its base and capital, is in length seven diameters, taken at the thickest part of the shaft below ; the pedestal one ; the base one module or half diameter, which divided into two equal parts, one shall be the plinth, the other for the torus and cincture, which being but a fourth part of the breadth in this order only, makes a part of the base ("peculiar to it self alone), as in the other it does of the shaft it self. The capital is one module, which divided into three equal parts, one shall be for the abacus, the other the ovolo, the third parted into seven, whereof one is the list, and the remaining six for the column. The lower astragal is double the height of the list under the ovolo* Note, that Vitruvius makes no difference 'twixt the capital of this order' from the Doric, as to proportions, tho' Artists dispute it, who (as was said) allovV it a semi-diameter. Now, tho' they have not granted it any fixt and certain entablature, but chosen what they, thought fit out of other orders, yet they seldom give it less than a fourth part of the height of the shaft, like the DoriCj which commonly, and very properly, supplies the place of the Tuscan, and that with a great deal of more grace, where they stand in'consort, as in.arfihes, and the like. The distance or intercolumniation of this order, sometimes amounting, to four diameters, sometimes requires an architrave of timber; or if of stone, to be plac'd much nearer, unless (^as we said) in vaulting- and underground work, to which some almost wholly con- demn it. The Doric, so nam'd from Dorus King pf Achasis, reported to have been the first who at Argos built and; dedicated a temple to Juno of this order, is esteem'd one of the most noble, as well as the first of the Greeks, for its masculine, and, as Scamozzi calls it, Herculiean aspect, not for its height and stature, but its excellent proportion, which fits it in all respects, and with advantage, for any work wherein the Tuscan is made use of, and renders that column (among the learned) a supernu- merary, as well as the Composita. The Doric, base and capital, challenges eight diameters set alone ; but not so many by one, in porticos and mural woi-k. The capital, ahe module, with its abacus, ovolo, andulets, hypotra- chelium, astragal, and list beneath the capital, making a part of the shaft or column. The entablature being more substantial tlian the rest of the Greek orders, requires a fourth part of the height of the columns ; whereas the others have commonly but a fifth. The architrave one module, compos'd but of a single fascia, as best approved, (tho' the modern sometimes add a Second) with a taenia or band which crowns it. The freeze with its list, which separates it from the cornice, is 1 modi. ^. The cornice holds the same proportion, with this note, that when the column is above 7 diameters, both freeze and architrave have their regu- lated measure, one being of a single module, the other being three quarters, and the remainder being a fourth part of the column is cast into the cornice. This order had of old no pedestal at all, and indeed stands handsomely without it ; but where it is us'd, Palladio allows it two diameters and a third of the column, and is often plac'd upon the attic- base, for antiently it had none. We find it sometimes fluted with a short edge without interstice, as there is in other orders ; but that which is indeed the proper and genuine character of the Doricj is (with very moderate enrichment besides) the triglyph and metop in the freeze, with guttse in the archi- trave beneath ; the due collocation and placing of whieh> often objects our Architects to more difficulty than any other accessary in the other orders ; because of the intercolumniation, which obliges them to leave such a space 'twixt two columns, as may not be less than for one triglyph to five, counting what falls just on the head of the columns ; which if plac'd at the entrance of a, building, the distance must be for three, which to adjust is not very easy, seeing the intercolumniation ought to coiTespond with the distance of the spaces of the triglyphs and metops ; which point 408 of critlcistne is the cause we often find them quite left out in this ordef, which suits so well in the pycnostyle and acrostyle, : The /omc, invented orintroduc'd by. Ion, sent by those of Athens with a colony into that part of Greece bearing his name, (and where he erected a temple to Diana,) consists of proportions between the solid and manly Doric, the delicf^te and more feminine Corinthian, from which it but little differs, save in the matron-like capital ; it contains eighteen modules or nine diaiheters (tho' by one less at first), together with j:he capital and base, which last was added to give.it stature, The entablature is allowed a fifth part of the height of the column of which the base takes one module, (with sometimes a small moulding of twenty minutes,) the. capital very little exceeding a third ; but its dis- tinguishing characteristic is the voluta, concerning which sundry Archi- tects have recommended their peculiar methods for the tracing, and turning that ornament, especially Vignola and Goldman. , The famous Mich. Angelo had one after his own mode, and so others ; but that which has been chiefly folld^ed, is wliat Philibert de Lorme contends to be of his own invention. This column is fluted with four and twenty plaits; the spaces or in- terstices not sharp and edg'd like the Doric (which is allowed but twenty,) tho' of the same depth and hollow to about a third part down- ward, where they are convexly staved, and thence nam'd radiant, by sonae r«c?en^, tho' of old we find them fluted the whole length. Thus as the capital resembled the modest tresses of. a matron, so did the fluting, the folds and plaits of their garments. The pedestal is of two diameters and as many thirds. Several othet^ observations pretend to this order, to render it elegant, which are left to the curious, but these, are the more essential. The Corinthian had her hirth from that luxurious city ; trick'd up and adorn*d like the wanton sex,, and is the pride and top of all. the ord^ris : for the rest it agrees with the proportion of the Ionic, excepting only in the capital ; in a word, it takes with its base nine diameters and three quarters, and sometimes ten. If fluted, with as many as the Ionic, half as deep as, large; the listel or space between the groves, a third of the in imitation doubtless of Xerxes's tying the scarfs and garters of his concubine and misses- among the boughs of the famous platan; whilst one would think we might be content with what the Romans have already set for a pattern on those antient columns of this order ; as I am sure the judicious au- thor of the 'f Parallel" would have been^ who, contrary to the genius of his country-men, had the greatest aversion td the least innovation in this profession ; what (as we said) the Romans have left us being abuur- dantly more graceful, and rather in excess. Wherefore, by another nice distinction, this learned commentator calls that the Composita which keeps to its fix*d rules and stated proportions ; and, that which others every day invent, the de composit, or as his term is, compo-composit, and so sets it up for a sixth order. But to proceed. The Entablature has by some been allow'd a fourth part of the column, but by Palladio only five, as to the Corinthian. The £ase is as the jlttic, or a compound of it and the Ionic. The Pedestal has a third of the height of the shaft : not but that any of these proportions so establish'd (as sometimes, and upon just occa- sion) may be varied according to the quality aqd grandeur of the build- ing, as to the inlarging or diminishing of a member, if the judicious Architect see cause, and to be more graceful, which is a good f ule in all such cases in the other orders, and for which Vitruvius gives excel- lent precepts, as he likewise does to their number and placing in single or double ranks, with their diflFerent application, as whether close to the wall or to the angle and extremes, wh^re, if irisulat and without touching, more thickness is allowable ; since, being surrounded by the air only, it is made to appear so much the slenderer, as that some which have been found but of seven diameters only, have become their stations better than if they had held their intire dimensions. There now remains the Caryatides, of which, and of the Persian, we have an ample account in the "Parallel" out of Vitruvius, introduced as a mark of triumph over the Caryans of Peloponnesus, whom the Greeks, having vanquish'd vnth their confederates, caus'd the images and resemblances of both sexes and nations (as Slaves, Atlantes and Talamones,) to be plat'd and st^nd ^(jl^r massie weight aiul supers^uejlxir^ ii^stead of ccdumiail, thj^ wqmeQ to signifie those of Gary a, whonn they only spared ; and the njenj as captive Persians, which gave denomination to the order, if at least tbey may he caU'd so for distinction sake only ; since they differ in nothing either of height, suhstancq, orsntahlament from the feminine Ionic, and mascujine Doric; but how, oj where they had originally heen employed in any remarkable ^building, is not so perspic»ous from any antient tje^i^^^g-ia ,at present remaining; hut as they seem most pro-r perly to ;be plac'd at entrances, and before arches and porticos, instead ^f pillasters, so doubtless they ,gave occasion to many Gothic absurdi- ties,, and extravagant postures of men, monkeys, satyrs, &c. for the bear' ing up of cornices, in place of mutuls and cartousqg, to that shampfuf impudence as we see them not seldom in our very i(3hi*rche^,. There remain yet of columns divers other sorts, (to mejotion jpply the duilian, rostrad, mural, obsidional, futiehral, astronomial, and other symbolical jnonuments, which may upon some particular occasions have their places,) but no more that can honestly derive a legitimiate pedegree ; for some are wfeath'd, others spiral and the like : hut as w^e meet th^m not In any approved author, or antient fabric, so are they very sparingly to be made use of, if at all. Indeed the famous Archir tect, Gayalier Bernini, has cast a set of these torsed coluimis of a vast Wjght, twisted about again with branches, among whidi are JRuM, little Angels, Pope Urhan's BeeSj, and other embossed Sculptures, all of gilded copper, to sustain the bal(iacchmo, or sacred canopy, over ithe high altar under the cupola at St. Peter's, ti^hich are exceedingly mag- nificent ; blit it does not always succeed so Well where it is praictic'd. 'Tis yet reported that there was an antient wreath'd column found some- wherie, wound about with a serpent, (as painters represent the tree in Paradise) taking nothing away from the straightness of the shaft; for so the antients prefer'd the solid and substantial in all their works, admitting nothing to bear any weight that should seem in the least to plie, yiel4, or shrink under it, as those sorts of columns appear to do : but as the gr^t masters, and such as Mich. Angelo, &c. invented certain new corhells, scrolls, and modilions, which were brought into use, so their foUQwers, animated by their exam,ple (but with much less judgment). 4113 keive ptesuna'd to introcl^ioe siuidry baubles astid trifling or the li^e ornaments, aind these styhbffta were call'd j^^roteria, from mpov summa pars', we may properly name them pin- aeles, for so pmntB. and battlements were mad^ sometimes more sharp, kwwring, or spiry, as pleased the workman. Where they S'tood in ranges, (as not unfrequently), with rail and balausters upon flat buildings, they^ still retain'd. their name, with this only difference, that such as were plkc'd between the angular points were (like ranges of pillars) styl'd the medium or mti^le aerotevia: for the most part a small die withoat any basey in proportioni soraaewhat less than the breadth of the neck of the column (if there stand any directly under it), and equal in height to the' middle of the middle tympane and that at the veryfastigmm may be allow'd an eightk pirt more. They did-^ likewise cover (especially temples, and such magnificextt-. and sacred buildings), with a CMjoofe, which is that dome or hemisphe- rical concave made in^ resemblance of the heavens, and admitting the light at the top centre or navil only, without any lantern, as is to be seen in that incomparable piece of the Pantheon yet extant : this is much in vogue yet in Italy, and of late in France, espefcially at Rome and Florence, but it is commonly 'svith the lantern and other apertures to let in day without exposure to the weather, as appears by that on the summit of Saint Peters ; but it takes- away, in my poor judgment, something from the solemness and; natural resemblance of the other, which yet are happly better to be endur'd in the more eastern countries where the weather Is constant; as we see It practic'd In what the pious Helena erected in the Holy Land, and her son Gonstantine the Great,, or rather, that at present, by the Emperor Justinian-, (one Anthemius of Trales, and Isador the Miletan being the Architects,) upon that magjai- ficent structure of Santa Sophia yet remaining at Constantinople, and to this day imitated by the Turks for the covering qf their Mosques . and that it was an oriental covering and invention, the QaXos of the Gtreeks was doubtless deriv'd from the Hebrew '^HTri MaZaj signify ing t< suspend or hang as it were in the air;; but the Italian name seems tc eome from cuppa a. cvue or great washing-bowl, which it much resem- bles. As to the name dome, whether from the Greek Sufia, a covering, as Du Cange, or as Vossius, domus, I am not concern'd (^but when they call it dome, it ever signifies the cathedral); 'tis commonly erected over the middle of the building where the isles cross, and ought to be in he^ht half the diameter of the church, meaning the cuppa otfly (by some nam'd the pyramis), and not the lantern or flos, by Architects so call'd, from some flower, or like ornament which was placed upon, it In; the mean time, we find some of these coverings in other shapes, and multangular, not exceeding eight ; but they are nothing so graceful as the dome-spheroid : sometimes also they are made to let in greatei light by a sort of lucar windows ; by which are meant those suht'egu- Idrian windows that appear in our roofs above the cornices, of which some are square with pediments,, others round or oval and oxe^yed as they term them, most accommodate to the cupola, and had need have twice and an half the height of breadth, by reason of the distance, with circular frontoons, whilst windows in upright walls ought not to be above a fifth part less wide- than those beneath them, which are ever to be even with the cornices of the ceiling. Antiently, windows were open to the very floor, or only clos'd with a ballustre and raile, much safer, and as commodious- altogether to look into streets,, or enjoy the prospect as our late meniana and balconies are, which jette out,, and rest only upon scrolls and mutules. For reasons already mention'd arched vaults in cellars should have arched apertures and windows. Other accessories and ornaments are also used in buildings which I will onlv touch. Niches, quasi nidi, nests, of old concha, are a kind of Plateus or smaller tribunals (as they are yet called in Italy) wherein statues are placed to protect them from the down right injuries of the weather, as well as for ornament to plain and simple walls : as to their regular sections (tho', as we.have already noted, there be nothing determin'd) one may allow them double, half, or quarter more of their breadth, and half for the cavitie,. whether circular or square ; the rest suitable to the 3 H 418 character of the main buildiug, and proportion of the statue designM, and therefore in placing an Hercules, Commodus, or larger figure, a rustic, or Doric work and ornament would become them better than the Corinthian or Composit delicacy j fitter for the less robust and more effeminate, whether naked as the Greek statues, or clad as were the Roman : and so in respect to situation, if low, or even to the area, or much higher, the statelier and taller figures should be plac'd in the lower niches ; the shorter over those, and their niches thrice the height of the breadth, tho' the figure exceed not that of the imposts. Square niches have a third of their largeness in depth, and twice the height : when there happens a very large peere or square (as sometimes between the windows), they should observe the proportion of the aperture both for height and breadth, with suitable decoration : but between columns or pillasters standing one upon the other, niches are not so proper, because they fill the spaces too much ; and where more than one is plac'd, the interval should be equal to their breadth ; and never to admit them at the coines of a building, as frequently we see them abroad to inshrine some Saint, that the image may be seen in several streets ; in a word, the too thick and frequent niches become no building, and are unsufferable where a cornice is broken to let them into groups and assemblies of more figures, as the action may require. The niche is to be suited, and should begin at the floor or pavement with plinth or pedestal, higher than for a standing figure, which is ever to be allow'd the first ; and if plac'd in a spacious court or garden, the pedestal should be higher, so as the statue may be viewed round about : as to farther decoration, it were absurd to carve a mask, satyr's or lyon's head, as we sometimes see them upon the key-stone, least standers by take the statue for some two headed monster ; nothing more becoming it withinj than the usual esculop, whether wrought in the stone, or plaster : indeed niches shew best without much ornament," columns, or pillasters, unless plac'd at the end of some long gallery, portic, Vestibule of church, exchange, or courts of justice, &c, Oval niches do handsomely for busts and vases, if not set in too deep ; and therefore may be allow'd to stand on a scroll or mutule : lastly, when niches are made very much larger and higher, beginning from the pavement, they were call'd 419 Tribunals, as of old it seems applied to all high and eminent places^ where the Tribunes of the people us'd to sit as judges. We have a no- ble resemblance of this in that magnificent throne described J Reg. 10. 19. built by Solomon, which seems to me to have been such an ample niche, in which a principal person might sit, as it were, half canopied over within the thickness of the wall. In walls likewise did they insert many noble and most exquisite sculp- tures and historical fables, half wrought up, emboss'd, and swelUng, and sometimes more than half, which eminencies they now call in Italy by the name of basse, and mezzo relievo. These were sometimes wrought in marble, as in that famous abacus and stylobata, yet extant, of Trajan's Pillar. Their ordinary placing was in the fronts of edifices, as is yet to be seen in divers palaces at Rome, and especially in their villas and re- tirements of pleasure, which are frequently incrusted with them, but vilely imitated in our exposed fretworks about London, to the reproach of Sculpture, especially where it pretends to figures on the out sides of our citizens houses. I well remember there was in one of the courts of Nonsuch,* several large squares of historical relieue moulded off, or wrought in stucco by no ill artist (I think Italian), which upon the de- molition of that royal fabrick, I hear, have been translated, and most ornamently plac'd by the late most Honourable Earl of Berkeley, at his delicious villa, Durdens in Surry, not far from Nonsuch, which is thus describ'd by Camden, (as lately publish'd by the very learn'd Mr. Gib- son,)-|" where, speaking of that kingly palace, he calls it " magnificent to so high a pitch of ostentation, as one would think the whole art of Ar- chitects were crowded into this simple work :" and then as to the rielieuo (which appears to have stood expos'd there ever since the reign of Henry VIII. who built the house), " so many images to the life, upon the walls thereof; so many wonders of an accomplish'd workmanship, as even vie with the remains of Roman antiquity." Indeed, this sort of decoration * "At the extremity of the town (of Epsom) stands DurcIaTU, formerly belonging to the Earl of Berkeley, and built out of the materials of Nonsuch, a palace erected by King Hen. VIIl. not ferfrom hence, and given by K. Charles II. to the Dutcliess of Cleveland, who pulled it down, and sold these materials. It is built a la Modeme: the front to the downs, and the other to the garden, are very regular and noble."— rAubrey's Nat. Hist, of Surrey, 8vo. vol. ii. p. 218. t Afterwards Bishop of London. 420 has of late been supplied by painting in fcesco, and that by very able hands, especially Signior Verrio, &c. as it is frequently In Italy by the most famous masters; which I wish the inclemency of our severer cli- mate were as favourable to as the work deserves. Ornaments, however gayandfinetheyappear to the eye,andarein many cases very laudable and necessary, there is yet no small judgment required, how and when to place them appositely, so as they do not rather de- tract from the beauty of the work than at all contribute to it. Now by ornament we understand whatsoever of Sculpture and Carving is not of constant use, or absolutely necessary in all members ; such as frutages, festoons, chaplets, wreaths, and other coronary works ; frets, guilloches, modillons, mutuls, chartoches, dentelli, metops, triglyphs, ovola, pine- cones, niches, statues, busts, relievos, urns, &c.:; in a word, all sorts of mouldings. Vitruvius, under the name of ornament, reck'ning the whole entablature, in which the frieze seems to be the'most proper field for decoration, as the most conspicuous place, and where, tho' the Sculptor shew*d his address and invention, the antlents (who spared nothing which might accomplish the publick buildings) were not all so lavish, in over frequent and unnecessary gayities. Their temples, am- phitheatres, circus's, courts of justice, fora, ports and entries of cities, prisons, bridges, basilica, royal palaces and other buildings of state, were grave and solid structures, void of those little membrets, trifling mouldings, and superfluous carvings, which take away from that majestic and grand maniere that most becomes them ; reserving those richer accessories and costly finishings for theatres, triumphal arches, historical columns, and other ostentatious pomps : nor even in these did they use them profusely, but with great judgment, symbolical to the subject and occasion. And therefore those antlent ornaments would not suit so properly with the ages since, and may I conceive lawfully.be chang'd, without presumption or injury to any essential member ; as if (for instance) instead of sphinxes and griffons plac'd before the Pagan Temples (guardians of treasure which was kept in those sacred build- ings), angels should be set before our churches; and In the Doric friezes, instead of ox-sculls, the priests secespita, guttce, acerra, sim- pula, and other sacrificing utensils, we chang'd them in our churches 421 (where that jorder best beseems them) into cherubs, flaming hearts, book? laid open, the patin, chalice, mitre, crosier, &e. The frontons of maga- zines and public munitions had the sculps of antique casks, targets, battle-axes, thunderbolts, the battering-ram, catapults, &c. which we may answer with our modern artillery of cannon, bombs, mortars, drums, trumpets, and other warlike engines; and to their rostra, rudders, anchors, tridents, scalops,&c. the wonder-working nautic-box, with whatever else of useful and conspicuous has improv'd our navigation. The tympan before courts of justice may become her statue, sitting on a cube, with fasces, axes, and other emblems of magistracy. Thermarted heroes, and most illustrious of mortals. But to return to the labour, because there is nothing excellent which to be attained without it. A Gard'nerS work is never at an end ; it rins with the year, and continues to the next : he prepares the >und, and then he sows it ; after that he plants, and then he gathers ; fruits ; but in all the intermedial spaces he is careful to dress it ; so as * Gen. c. ii. 15. 431 Columella, speaking of this continual assiduity, tells us *, " A Gard'ner is not only to reckon upon the loss of bare twelve hours, but of an whole year, unless he perform what is at the present requisite in its due period; and therefore is such a monthly notice of his task as depends upon the signs and seasons highly necessary f." Gard'ners had need each star as well to know, The Kid, the Dragon, and Arcturus too, As seamen, who through dismal storms are wont To pass the oyster-breeding Hellespont X- All which duly weighed, how precious the time is, how precipitous the occasion, how many things to be done in their just season, and how intolerable a confusion will succeed the smallest neglect, after once a ground is in order, we thought we should not attempt an unacceptable work, if here we endeavour to present our Gard'ners with a compleat cycle of what is requisite to be done throughout every month of the year : we say each month, because by dividing it into parts so dis- * Praetermissas duodecim horas, sed annum periisse, nisi sua quaque quod instat effecerit : quare necessaria est menstrui cuj usque o£Scii monitio ea qus pendet ex ratione Syderum Oieli, &c. Columella de Re Rust. 1. ix. f This observation, which may appear like superstition to us who reside in an irregular climate, is. highly necessary to the inhabitants of mor^ settled skies, where the rains generally set in or the sun shines with greater force at stated seasons, which are marked by astronomical observations : " Beneath what star fair flow'rs first shew their heads." The directions which Columella gave to the Romans of his own day, are equally applicable to the Italians of the present age. " Now, when the thirsty Dog-star shall have drank Full draughts of Ocean's streams j and when his orb With equal hours bright Titan shall have pois'd. And Autumn, glutted with all sorts of fruit. Shaking his hoary head^ with apples deck'd. And all his garments wet and stain'd with must. Shall from ripe grapes the foaming liquor squeeze r Then let the lowly ground,- with streng^th of spades Well arm'd with iron, be turned upside down." — Book X. X " tam sunt Arcturi sidera nobis Haedordmque dies servandi, et lucidus Anguis, Quam quibus in patriam ventosa per tequora vectis Pontus, et Ostriferi fauces tentantur Abydi."— Geor. I. 432 tinct, the order in which they shall find each particular to be disposed may not only render the work more facile and delightful, but redeem it from that extreme perplexity, which, for want of a constant and uniform method, we find does so universally district the vulgar sort of them : they know not (for the most part) the seasons when things are to be done * ; and when at any time they come to know, there often falls out so many things to be done on the sudden, that some of them must of necessity be neglected for that whole year, which is the greatest detri- ment to this mystery, and frequently irrecoverable. We are yet far from imposing (by any thing we have here alledged concerning these menstrual periods) those nice and hypercritical punc- tilios which some astrologers, and such as pursue their rules, seem to oblige our Gard'ners to ; as if, forsooth, all were lost, and our pains to no purpose, unless the sowing and the planting, the cutting and the pruning, were performed in such and such an exact minute of the moon : In hac autem ruris disciplina non desideratur ejusmodi scrupu- lositasf. There ai'e indeed some certain seasons, and suspecta tempora, which the prudent Gard'ner ought carefully (as much as in him lies) to prevent : but as to the rest, let it suffice, that he diligently follow the observations which (by great industry) we have collected together, and here present him, as so many Synoptical Tables, calculated for his monthly use, to the end he may pretermit nothing which is under his inspection, and is necessary, or distract his thoughts and employment before the seasons require it. And now, however this may seem but a trifle to some who esteem books by the bulk, not the benefit ; let them forbear yet to despise these few ensuing pages, for never was any thing of this pretence more fully and ingenuously imparted, 1 shall not say to the regret of all our mercenary Gard'ners, because I have much obligation to some above that epithete : Mr. Rose J, Gard'ner to his Majesty, and lately at Essex- * Quia caput est in omni negotio, nosse quid agendum sit, &c. Columella de Re Rust. 1. i. c. 1. f Columella. J Mr. Rose raised the first pine-apple that was grown in England. In ^ picture at Kensington Palace he is represented presenting a pine-apple to King Charles j and the Earl of Waldegrave has a similar picture at Strawberry-hill, Twickenham, which is supposed to have been painted by Daneker. A print in the line manner has recently been engraven from the former picture by Mr. Graves. 433 le to her Grace the Duchess of Somerset ; and Mr. Turner*, formerly i^lmbledon in Surry, who, being certainly amongst the most expert leir profession in England, are no less to be celebrated, for their free munications to the publick, by divers observations of theirs, which '. furnished to this design. And it is from the result of very much ;rience, and an extiaordinary inclination tp cherish so innocent and able a diversion, and! to incite an affection in the Nobles of this an towards it, that I begin to open to them so many of the interior 2tSj. and. most precious rules of this mysterious art, without impos- , or invidious reserve. The very Catalogue of Fruits and Flowers, he Orchard and the Parterre, will gratifte the most innocent of the es, and whoever else shall be. to seek a rare and universal choice for )lantation. ouching the method, it is so obvious, that there needs no farther :tion ; and the consequent will prove so certain, that a work of the est pains is by this, little instrument rendered the most, facile and eable, as by which you shall continually preserve your Garden in that action of beauty and lustre, without confusion or prejudice ; nor ed could we think of a more comprehensive expedient, whereby to it the frail and torpent memory through so multifarious and nume- an employment (the daily subject of a Gard'ners care), than by the lomy and discipline which we have here consigned it to, and which industrious Gard'ner may himself be continually improving from own observations and experience. In the mean time, we have, at instance of very many persons, who have been pleased to acknow- e the effects of a former less perfect impression, thought good to ish an Edition in a smaller volume, that as an Enchiridion it may le more ready and useful ; but the Kalendar might be considerably nented, and recommend itself to more universal use, by taking in ilr. Turner was an apothecary m London, and Herbarist to James the First and Charles the His work, entitled "Paridisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris," was dedicated to Henrietta I, Queen of Charles the First, in the year 1629. In 1640 Parkinson published his "Thea- Botanicum," a valuable work. It appears that Parkinson had the superintendence of the Gardens at Wimbledon, which were broken up and sold by order of the Parliament in 1649. 3 K 434 the monthly employments of all the parts of agriculture, as tl been begun to us in Columella, * Palladius, de Serres, Augustin Vincenzo Tanara, Herrera, our Tusserf, Markham, and others cially if well and judiciously applied to the climate and several c< But it were here besides our institution, nor would the pages them ; what is yet found vacant has been purposely left, that oui ner may supply as he finds cause ; for which reason like' have rang'd both the Fruits and Flowers in prime after some promiscuous order ; and not after the letters of the alphabet, method might be pursued with the least disorder. Lastly, The Fruits and Flowers in prime are to be as well considered tion to their lasting and continuance, as to their maturity and b J. Evi *** The references to the " Discourse on Earth," are only to hefour^ Third Edition folio, printed with" Sylva" and " Pomona" S^c, 1' * Col. de R. R. lib. 11, c. 11. Pall. lib. 1. Tit. 1. t Tusser's " Five Hundred points of good Husbandry," which was first published i: 1557, may still be perused with benefit to the reader, being full of useful hints, as well i an interesting picture of the agricultural progress of those days. 435 THE GARDEN.* To John Evelyn, Esq. I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetuousness as y* one, w^*" I have had always, y* I might bee master at last, of a small Hous and larg Garden, w''^ very moderat conveniences joyned to them, and there dedicat the remainder of my life, onely to the culture of them, & study of Nature, And there, with no design beyond my wall, Whole, and entire to lye, In no unactive Eas, and no unglorious Poverty Or, as Virgil has said, shorter and better for mee that I might there studiis Jiorere ignobilis otti, (though! could wish, meethinks, y* he had rather said, nobilis otiif when hee spoke of his own,) but severall accidents of my ill fortune have disappointed mee hitherto, and still do, of y* fselicitie ; for though I have made the first and hardest step to it, by abandonning all ambitions and hopes in this world, and by retiring from the nois of all busines, and almost company, yet I stick still in the Inne of a hired Hous and Garden, amoung weeds and .rubbish ; and w*''out y* pleasantest work of human industry, y^ improvement of some- thing, w"'' wee call (not very properly, but yet wee call) our own. I am gon out from Sodom, but I am not arrived yet at my little Zoar. Oh let mee escape thither, (is it not a little one .?) and my Soul shall live. I do not look back yet, but I have ben forced to stop and make too many halts. You may wonder. Sir, (for this seems a little too extra- vagant and Pindarical for prose) what I mean by all this preface ; it is to let you know, y* though I have mist, like a chymist, my main end, yet I account my affections and endeavours well rewarded by something w"^ I have gotten by y* by, w"*" is, that they have procured to mee some part in y' kindnes and esteem, and thereby the honour of haveing my name so advantageously recommended to posterity by y^ Epistle you * Carefully corrected by the original manuscript in the hand-writing of Abraham Cowley, now in the possession of W. Upcott, and to whom it was kindly presented by the late Lady Evelyn. 436 are pleased to prefix to the most useful! book y* has ben writtt kind, and w'=^ is to last as long as Months and Years. Cum Lund Tu quoq; semper eris. Amoung many other arts and excellencies w'^'^ you enioy, 1 i to find this favourite of mine the most prsedominant ; that yo this for y' Wife though you have, like Solomon, hundreds of ot for your Concubines. Though you know them, and beget sonn them all Cto w'^*' you are rich enough to allow great legacies) Issue of this seems to bee designed by you to y^ main of the You have taken most pleasure in it, and bestowed most charg its education; and I doubt not to see y* Book, w'^'' you are pie promise to the world, and of w"^ you have given us a larg earne Calendar, as accomplished as any thing can bee expected from ar ordinary Witt, and no ordinary expences, and a long experie know no body y* possesses more private happines then" you y^ Garden, and yet no man who makes his hajppines more publ a free communication of y^ art and knowledg of it to others w'='' I myself am able yet to do, is onely to recommend to n the search of y* faelicity w"^ you instruct them how to find enjoy. . I. Happy art Thou whom God does bless W* ye full choice of thine own happiness ! And happier yet, becaus thou'rt blest W* prudence how to choos the best ! In Books and Gardens thou hast plae'd aright (Things w'='' thou well dost understand, And both dost make w**? thy laborious hand) Thy noble, innocent delight : And in thy virtuous Wife, where thou again dost meet Both pleasures more refin'd arid sweet : The fairest garden in her looks. And in her mind the wisest books. Oh who would change theis soft, yet solid joys. For empty shows and senceless noise, And all w*^^ rank Ambition breeds, W"'' seem such beauteous flowers, and are such poisonous weed 437 II. When God did Man to his own Kkenes make, As much as Clay/though of the purest kind, By the great Potters art refin'd, Could the Divine impression take : Hee thought it fit to place him where A kind of Heav'enrtoo did appear, As far as Earth could such a likenes bear : That man no happines might want, W"*" earth to her first master could afford ; He did a garden for him plant" By y^ quick hand of his omnipotent word. As y* cheif hplp and joy of human life, ee gave him y* first gift, first, even before a Wife. III. For God, the universale Architect, 'T had ben as i^asy to erect A Louvre, or Escuriall, or a Tower That might with Heaven communication hold. As Babel vainly thought to do of old : Hee wanted not the skill or power, In the world's fabrick those were shown. And the materials were all his own. But well hee knew what place would best agree With innocence arid with faslicitie : And wee elsewhere still seek for them in vain, If any part of ether still remain ; If any part of ether'wee expect. This may our judgment in y'' search direct ; God the first garden made, and the first city, Cain. IV. Oh blessed shades ! oh, gentle cool retreat, From all th' immoderat heat In w"*" the frantick world does burn and sweat ! This, does y- Lion-star, Ambitions rage ; This Avarice, the dog-stars thirst assuage ; Every where els their fatall power wee see, They make and rule mans wretched destinie : They nether set, nor disappear. But tyrannize ore all y^ year ; Whil'st wee ne're feel their flame or influence here. 438 The birds y* dance from bough to boagh. And sing above in every tree. Are not from fears and cares more free Then wee who ly, or sit, or walk below. And should by right bee singers too. What princes quire of musick can excel (That w*^^ w'Mn this shade does dwel ? For w"^ wee nothing pay or give. They like all other poets live Without reward or thanks for their obliging pains ; 'Tis well if they become not prey ) : The whistling winds add their less artfuU straines. And a grave base the murmuring fountains play ; Nature does all this harmony bestow, But to our plants, arts, musick too. The pipe, theorbo, and guitarr wee owe ; The lute itself, w'^^ once was green and mute. When Orpheus strook th' inspired lute, The trees danc'd round, and und-erstood By sympathy the voice of wood. V. Theis are the spels w°^ to kind sleep invite. And nothing does within resistance make : W'^^' yet wee moderately take ; Who would not choos to bee awake. While hee's encompasst round with such delight. To th' ear, the nose, the touch, the tast, and sight ? When Venus would her dear Ascanius keep A pris'oner in the downy bands of sleep. She odorous herbs and flowers, about him spred. As the most soft and sweetest bed ; Not her own lap would more have charm'd his head. Who y* has reason, and his smel. Would not amoungst roses and jasmin dwel, Rather then all his spirits choak With exhalations of dirt and smoak ? And all th' uncleannes which does drown In pestilentiall clowds a populous town ? 439 The earth it self breaths better perfumes here, Then all the female men or women there, (Not without cause 'tis thought) about them bear. VI. When Epicurus to the world had taught That pleasure was the chiefest good, (And was perhaps i'th'right, if rightly understood,) His life hee to his doctrine brought, And in a gardens shade y* sovereign pleasure sought. Whoever a true Epicure would be6, May there find cheap and virtuous luxurie. Vitellius his Table, w'^ did hold As many creatures as the Ark of old. That Fiscal Table, to w'^ every day All countries did a constant Tribute pay, • Could nothing more delicious affoord, Then Natures liberality, Helpt by a little art and industry. Allows the meanest gard'ners board. The wanton tast no fish or fowl can choos, For w'^'' the grape or melon shee would loos. Though all th' inhabitants of sea and air Bee listed in the gluttons bill of fare ; Yet still the fruits of earth wee see Plac'd the third story high in all his luxurie. VII. But with no sense the garden does comply ; ; None courts or flatters, as it does the eye : When the greSat Hebrew King did almost strain The wound'rous treasures of his wealth and brain, His royal southern guest to entertain ; Though shee on silver floores did tread, With bright Assyrian carpets on them spred, To hide the metals poverty : Though shee lookt up to roofs of gold, And nought around her could behold But sUk, and rich embrodery, And Babylonian tapestry. 440 And wealthy Hirams princely dye, Though Ophirs starry stones met every where her eye ; Though shee herself, and her gay host were drest In all the shining glories of the east ; When lavish art her costly work had done, The honour and the prize of bravery, Was by y^ garden from y^ palace wonne ; And every rose and lilly there did stand Better attir'd by Natures hand : The case thus judg'd against the king wee see. By one who not bee so rich, though wiser far than hee. VIII. Nor does this happy place onely dispense Such various pleasures to the sense ; Here health it self does live, That salt of life wbich does to all a relish give ; Its standing pleasure, and intrinsick wealth, The bodies virtu, and the souls good fortune, health. The tree of life when it in Eden stood. Did its immortal head to heaven rear ; It lasted a tall cedar till the flood ; Now a small thorny shrub it does appear ; Nor will it thrive too every where : It here is always freshesf seen ; 'Tis only here an ever-green. If through the strong and beauteous fence Of temperance and innocence, And wholesome labours, and a quiet mind, Any diseases passage find, They must not think here to assail A land unarmed or without a guard ; They must fight for it, and dispute it hard. Before they can prevail : Scarce any plant is growing here Which against Death some weapon does not bear. Let cities boast y* they provide For life the ornaments of pride ; But 'tis the Garden and y« Feild, That furnish it with staff and sheild. 441 IX. Where do y^ wisdome and y^ power divine In a more bright and sweet reflextioh shine ? Where do wee finer strokes and colours see Of the Creators real poetrie. Then when wee w**" attention look Upon y^ third days volume of the book ? If wee could open and intend our eye. We all, like Moses, should espy Ev'n in a bush the radiant Deity. But wee despise theis his inferior ways, (Though no less full of miracle and praise) Upon y* flowers of heaven wee gaze ; The stars of earth no wonder in us raise, Though theis perhaps do more then they, The life of mankind sway. Although no part of inighty natuirej bee More stored with beauty, power, and inysterie ; Yet to encourage human Industrie, ^ God has so ordered y* no other part Such space and such dominion leaves for Art. X. Wee no where Art do so triumphant; see. As when it grafts or buds the tree ; In other things wee count it to excell, If it a docile scholar can appear To Nature, and but imitate her well ; It over- rules, and is her master here. It imitates her makers power divine, And changes her sometimes, and sometimes does refine : It does, like grace, the fallen tree restore To iits blest state of Paradise before : Who would not joy to see his conquering hand Oe'r all the vegetable world command ? And the wild gyants of the wood receive What law hee's pleas'd to give ? 3l 442 Hee bids th' ill-natur'4 cfab produce The gentler apples winy juice ; The golden fruit y* worthy is Of Galatea's purple kiss } Hee does the savage hawthorn teach To bear the Medlar and y« Pear ; Hee bids the rustique Plum to rear A nobler trunck, and bee a Peach, Even Daphnes coyness hee does mock, And weds the Cherry to her stock ; Though shee refus'd ApoUos suit ; Ev'n she, the chast and virgin tree, Now wonders at her self, to see That shee's a mother made, and blushes in her fruit. XI. Meethinks I see great, Dioelesian walk In the Salonian gardens noble shade, W"** by his own Imperial hands was made : I see him smile, meethinks, as hee does talk W*^> the Arabassadours who come in vain T'entice him to a throne again : If I, my friends (said hee) should to you show All the contents which in this garden grow, 'Tis likelier much y* you should with mee stay, Then 'tis y* you should carry mee away : And trust mee not, my friends, if every day, I walk not here with more delight. Than ever, after the most happy fight. In triumph to the Capitol I rod, To thank y^ Gods, and to bee thought, my self almost a God. A. Cowley. Chertsea, Jug. l6 1666. KALENDARIUM HORTENSE. ^ JANUARY Hath xxxi days — long, 8h am, gun rises S^ 0™ — sets 4h om. * To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. 'eench the ground, and make it ready for the Spring : prepare also , and use it where you hav,e occasion; for which purpose make itiful provision of neats, horse, and sheeps dung especially, that may have some of two years preparation, by now and then stirring opening it to the air, and lastly, screening it, reserve it for use iome hard-bottom'd shady place, a little excavated, that the rain h not away the vertue of it : suffer no weeds to grow on it ; have e heaps of sweet under-pasture natural mould, and fine loam, to gle with your dung, as occasion requires. [ote, that the dung of pigeons and poultry, mix'd with mould, is illent for the fig-tree (io which I now advise you to lay it), aspara- strawberries, &c. but then it must have pass'd its first heat, lest, y'd before, it burn the plant. [orse-dung, if not exceedingly rotted, will infect the ground with :-grass, the very worst of garden-weeds j and is therefore onlv ler for moist and cold grounds, and to be us'd for the hot-bed. bricots and peaches require rather a natural, rich, and mellow soil, much dung. ress yoiir sweet-herb beds rather with a new moulding everv- id vear, than with over-dunging or rank soil. or the rising and setting of the sun, and length of the days, I compute from the first of nonth, London lat. 444 Mould made of the rotting of weeds, &c. Is apt to produce the same weeds *. Dig borders, &c. Uncover, as yet, roots of trees, where ablaquea- tion Is requisite f. Plant quick-sets, and transplant fruit-trees, if not finish'd : set vines;};, and begin to prune the old; prune the branches of orchard fruit-trees, especially the long planted, and that towards the decrease; but for such as are newly planted, they need not be disbranched till the sap begins to stir, that is, not till March ; that so the wound may be healed, with the scar, and stub, which our frosts do frequently leave : besides, one then best discerns the fruit- buds. In this work cut off all the shoot of August, unless the nakedness of the place incline you to spare it : consult my French Gard'ner, Part I. Sect. 3 §. For this Is a most material address, towards which these short directions may. contribute. Learn first to know and distinguish the bearing and fruit-buds from the leaf-buds : the fruit-buds are always fuller and more .turgid : these you are carefully to spare, and what you prune from the rest cut off slanting above the bud, with a very sharp knife, leaving no rags. In taking off a whole branch, or limb, cut close to the stem, that the bark may cover it the sooner. Those buds which either put forth just between the stem and wjall (in mural-trees only), or opposite to them, are to be rubbed off as soon as they appear, sparing only the collateral branches. Keep^'our wall and palisade-trees from mounting too hastily, that they may form beautiful and spreading branches, shap'd like a ladies fann, and close to the ground. Take the water-boughs quite away, which are those that on standards being shaded, and drip'd upon, remain smooth and naked without buds. Where you desire mural fruit-trees should spread, garnish, and bear, cut smoothly off the next unbearing branch. * Vide "Discourse of Earth," p. 21. \ See the Directions in my Treatise of Earth, p. 24, folio edit. X See Mr. Rose's Vineyard vindicated, c. v. J " Pomona," c. 8. 445 Forbear pruning wall-fruit that is tender, till February. Where branches are so thick and intangl'd that they gall one an- other, or exclude the sun and air, thin the place at discretion. You may now begin to nail and trim your wall-fruit and espaliers. Cleanse trees of moss, &c. the weather moist. Gather cyons for graflPs before the buds sprout; and about the latter end grafF them in the stock, pears, cherries, and plums; and remember this for a special rule, that you always take the cyon from some goodly and plentifully bearing tree : for if it be from a young tree, or one which has not yet born fruit (tho' of never so excellent a kind), it will be a long time e'er your graff produce any fruits considerable. Now also remove your kernel-stocks to more commodious distances in your nursery, cutting off the top root *. Set beans, pease, &c. Sow also (if you please) for early cauly-flowers. Sow chervil f, lettuce, radish, and other (more delicate) salletings, if you will raise in the hot-bed. In over- wet, or hard weather, cleanse, mend, sharpen, and prepare garden-tools ij;. Turn up your bee-hives, and sprinkle them with a little warm and sweet wort ; do it dexterously. Fruits in prime, and yet lasting. Apples. — Kentish pippin, russet pippin, golden pippin, french pippin, kirton pippin, holland pippin, john-apple, winter queening, marigold, harvey-apple, pomewater, pome-roy, golden doucet, apis, reineting, Lones pear-main, winter pear-main, &c. Peaks. — Winter musk (bakes well), winter Norwich (excellently baked), winter bergamot, winter bon-crestlen (both mural), vergoules, the great surrein, &c. * Vide March. f Scandix cerefolium. This plant, so celebrated by the ancients, has nearly disappeai'ed in the English kitchen-garden, nor is it any longer regarded in our salads, or admitted into modei'n practice, although it still holds a considerable rank in all these situations on the Continent. J This is a part of the gardener's duty which has been most lamentably neglected in modern times. 446 To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Set up your traps for vermine ; especially in your nurseries of kernels and stones, and amongst your bulbous roots ; which will now be in dan- ger. A paste made of coarse honey, wherein is mingled green-glass beaten, with copperas, may be laid near their haunts. About the mid- dle of this month, plant now your anemony roots, and ranunculus's, which you will be secure of without covering, or farther trouble. Pre- serve from too great and continuing rains (if they happen), snow, and frost, your choicest anemonies and ranunculus's sow'd in September or October for earlier flowers : also your carnations, and such seeds as are in peril of being wash'd out, or over-chilled and frozen, covering them under shelter, and striking ofiF the snow where it lies too weighty ; for it certainly rots and bursts your early-set anemonies and ranunculus's, &c. unless planted now in the hot-beds ; for now is the season, and they will flower even in London. Towards the end, earth-up with fresh and light mould the roots of those auricula's which the frost may have un- cover'd, filling up the chinks about the sides of the pots where your choicest are set, but they need riot be hous'd : it is a hardy plant. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Winter aconite, some anemonies, winter cyclamen, black hellebor, brumal hyacinth, oriental jacinth, levantine, narcissus, hepatica, prim- roses, laurus-tinus, mezereon, prsecoce tulips, &c. especially if raised in the hot-bed. Note, That both these fruits and flowers are more early or tardy, both as to their prime seasons for eating, and perfection of blowing, according as the soil and situation are qualify'd by nature or accident. Note also, That in this recension of monthly flowers, it is to be understood for the whole period that any flower continues, from its first appearing to its final withering. 447 K FEBRUARY Hath xxviii days — long, ogh 24">. Sun rises 7^ 13'". — Sets 04h 45m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitoty Garden. Prune fruit-trees and vines as yet; for now is your season to bind, plash, nail, and dress, without danger of frost : this to be understood of the most tender and delicate wall-fruit, not finish'd before ; do this be- fore the buds and bearers grow turgid ; and yet in the nectarine and like delicate mural-fruit, the later your pruning the better, whatever has been and still is the contrary custom. And let your gard'ner endeavour to apply the collateral branches of his wall-fruits, as near as possible he can (without violation and unna- tural bending and reverting) to the earth or borders ; so as the fruit (when grown) may almost touch the ground : the rest of the branches following the same order will display the tree like a ladies fan, and repress the common exuberance of the leading and middle shoots, which usually make too hasty an advance. A gard'ner expert in this and the right art of pruning, may call himself a workman sans reproch. Remove graflfs of former years graflBng. Cut and lay quick-sets ; and trim up your palisade hedges and espaliers. Plant vines as yet, other shrubs, hops, &c. Set all sorts of kernels and stony seeds, which field-mice will cer- tainly ruine before they sprout, unless prevented: also sow beans, pease, rounsevaJs, corn-sallet, marigold, anniseeds, radish, parsenips, carrots, onions, garlick, &c. And plant potatoes* in your worst ground. Now is your season for circumposition by tubs or baskets of earth, and * ''The potatoe first became an object of national impoitance in 1662-3^ as appears by the record of the RoyafSociety held March 18th in that year ; when a letter was read from Mr. Buck- land, a Somerset gentleman, recommending the planting of potatoes in all parts of the Kingdom, to prevent famine. This was referred to a Committee, and, in consequence of their report, Mr. Buckland had the thanks of the Society : such members as had lands were entreated to plant them with potatoes ; and Mr. Evelyn was desired to mention the proposals at the close of his Sylva."— Phillips's Hist, of Cultivated Vegetables, vol. H. p. 87. 448 for laying of branches to take root. You may plant forth your cab- bage-plants. Rub moss off your trees after a soaking rain, and scrape and cleanse them of cankers, &c. draining away the wet (if need require) from the too much moistned roots, and earth up those roots of your fruit-trees, if any were uncover'd. Continue to dig and manure, if weather permit. -Cut oflF the webs of caterpillars, &c. from the tops of twigs and trees to .burn. Ga,thei* worms in the evenings after rain. Kitchin-garden herbs may now be planted, as parsly, spinage, onions, leeks, and other hardy pot-herbs. Towards the middle or latter end of this month, till the sap rises briskly, grafFin the cleft, and so continue till the last of March : they will hold apples, pears, cherries, plums, &c. The new moon and the old wood is best. Now also plant out j^our caulyflowers to have early ; and begin to make your hot-beds for the first melons and cucumbers to be sow'd in the full ; but trtist not alto- gether to them. You may all this month, and the former, have early sallets on the hot -bed, and under glass frames and bells. Sow aspa- ragus. . Lastly, Half open your passages for the bees, or a little before (if weather in- vite), hut continue to feed weak stocks, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Kentish, kirton, russet, hoUand pippins; deux-ans, win- ter queening, harvy sometimes, pome-water, pome-roy, golden doucet, reineting, Lones pearmain, winter pearmain, &c. Pears. — Bon-chrestien of winter, winter poppering, little dago- bert, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Continue baits, vermine^traps, &c. Sow alaternus seeds in cases, or open beds ; cover them with thorns, that the poultry scratch them not out. Sow also lark-spurs, &c. Now and then air your hous'd carnations, in warm days especially, and mild showers ; but if like to prove cold, set them in again at night. Furnish (now towards the end) your aviaries with birds before they 449 couple, &c. and hang up materials for them to build their nests with. Note, That such birds as feed not on seeds alone should be separati by a. partition of wyre from those who feed on bruised seeds, paste fleshy or pulpy mixtures ; as the sky-lark, wood-lark, throstle, robii redbreast, &c. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Winter aconite, single atiemonies, and some double, tulips prsecoc hyacinthus, stellatus, vernal crocus, black hellebore, single hepatic persian iris, leucoium bulbosum, dens caninus three leav'd, vernal c^ clamen white and red, mezereon, ornithogal. max. alb. Yellow viole with large leaves, early daffodils, &g. r MARCH Hath xxxi days — long, \V^ 22". -Sunrises 6l> ID" — sets 5l> 41°>. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Yet stercoration is seasonable, and you may plant what trees are ],ef tho' it be something of the latest, unless in very backward or moi places. Now is your chiefest and best time for raising on the hot-bed melon cucumbers, gourds, &c. which about the sixth, eighth, or tenth da; will be ready for the seeds ; and eight days after prick them forth ! distances, according to the Method, &c. If you will have them later, begin again in ten or twelve days aft the first ; and so a third time, to make experiments. Remember i preserve the hot-bed as much as possible from rain ; for cool it yc may easily, if too violent, but not give it a competent heat, if it I spent, without new-making *. Now is the best time for pruning young murals, and, indeed, oth wall-trees. See the reason in January. GraflF all this month, beginning with pears, and ending with apple unless the spring prove extraordinary forwards -j-. * See " Discourse of Earth," &c. f See our " Pomona/', c. 3. 3 M 450 Now also plant peaches and nectarines, but cut not off the top-roots, as you do of other trees ; for it will much prejudice them. Prune last years graflFs, and cut oflFthe heads of your budded stocks. Take off the littier from your kernel-beds (see Octob.), or you may forbear till April. Stir your new-planted ground, as directed in " Disc, of Earth," p. 14, and for the nursery, p. 15. You may as yet cut quick-sets, and cover such tree roots as you laid bare in autumn. It were profitable now also to top your rose-trees (which always bear on the fresh sprouts of the same spring) a little with your knife near a leaf-bud, and to prune off the dead and withered branches, keeping, them lower than the custom is, and to a single stem. Cut away some branches of the monthly rose-tree close, after the first bearing. Slip and set sage, rosemary, lavender, thyme, &c. Note, that rosemary thrives better by cutting off the sprigs, than by ragged slips, which leaves an incurable scar on the old plant. Cut them, therefore at a little distance from the stem, and this so soon as it flowers, which is commonly in this month. Where the soil is clay, or over moist, mingle it plentifully with brick-dust; Sow in the beginning endive, succory, leeks, radish, beets, chard- beet, scorzonera, parsnips, skirrets. Sow skirrets in rich, mellow, fresh earth, and moist, and when about a finger long ; plant but one single root in a hole, at a foot distance. Sow also parsly, sorrel, bugloss, borage, chervil, sampier (to re-plant in May), sellery, smallage, alisanders, &c. Several of which continue many years without renew- ing, and are most of them to be blanch'd by laying them under littier, and earthing up. Sow also lettuce, onions, garlick, orack, purslain, turnips, (to have early) monthly pease, i&c. these annually. Begin to tie up some lettuce. Transplant the beet-chard which you sow'd in August, to have most ample chards. Sow also carrots, cabbages, cresses, nasturtium, fennel, majoran, basil, tobacco, &c. and transplant any sort of medicinal herbs. 451 Whatsoever you now sow or plant of this sort, water not over hastily, nor with too great a stream, for it hardens the ground, without pene- trating; rather endeavour to imitate the natural shower; but spare not water if necessary. Never cast water on things newly planted, nor on flowers, but at convenient distance, so as rather to moisten the ground, without sobbing the leaves of the plant, which ends in scorching. Mid-March dress up (with a little fresh manure) and string your strawberry-beds, clipping away all their runners till they blossom. And note, that you can hardly over-water your strawberry -beds in a dry season ; yet better not water at all than too sparingly. Uncover your asparagus, spreading and loosning the mould about them, for their more easy penetrating ; flourishing the beds thinly with a little fine fresh manure. Also may you now transplant asparagus roots to make new beds *. Uncover also artichoaks cautiously, and by degrees. The like your fig-trees, cutting ofi" the dead wood. By this time your bees sit ; keep them close night and morning, if the weather prove unkind. Turn your fruit in the room where it lies, but open not yet the windows. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Golden ducket [doucet], peplns, reineting, Lones pear- main, winter pearmain, winter bon-cretienne, john-apple, &c. Pears.— Later bon-chrestieni double blossom pear. To be done in the Parterre and Mower Garden. Stake and bind up your weakest plants and flowers against the winds, before they come too fiercely, and in a moment prostrate a whole year's labour. Plant box, &c. in parterres. Sow pinks, sweet-williams, and car- nations, from the middle to the end of this month. Sow pine-kernels, firr-seeds, bays, alaternus, phillyrea, and most perennial greens, &c. ; or you may stay till somewhat later In the month. Sow auricula-seeds, * See " Discourse of Earth," p. 38. 452 in pots or cases, in fine willow earth, a little loamy, and place what you sow'd in September (which is the more proper season) now in the shade, and water it. Plant some anemony-roots, to bear late and successively, especially in and about London, where the smoak is any thing tolerable ; and, if the season be very dry, water them well once in two or three days ; as likewise ranunculus's. Fibrous roots may be transplanted about the middle of this month; such as hepaticas, primroses, auriculas, cam- momile, narcissus, tuberose, matricaria, gentianella, hellebore, and other summer flowers. Set leucoium ; slip the keris, or wall-flower ; and, towards the end, lupines, convolvolus's, Spanish or ordinary jasmine. You may now, a little after the iEquinox, prune pine and fir trees. See September. Towards the middle or latter end of March sow on the hot-beds such plants as are late bearing flowers or fruit in our climate ; as balsamine, and balsamum mas, pomum amoris, datura, ^SEthiopic apples, some choice amaranthus, dactyls, geraniums, hedysarum clypea- tum, humble and sensitive plants, lentiscus, myrtle-berries (steep'd awhile), capsicum indicum, canna indica, flos africanus, mirabile peruian. nasturtium ind. indlan phaseoli, volubilis, myrrh, carrobs, marcoc, sive flos passionis, and the like rare and exotic plants, which are brought us from hot countries. Note, that the nasturtium ind. african marygolds, volubilis, and some others, will come (though not altogether so forwards) in the cold- bed, without art : but the rest require much and constant heat, and therefore several hot-beds, till the common earth be very warm by the advance of the sun, to bring them to a due stature, and perfect their seeds : therefore, your choicest amaranthus being risen pretty high, remove them into another temperate hot-bed ; the same you may do with your African and sensitive plants, especially, which always keep under glasses *. About the expiration, of this month carry into the shade such auri- culas, seedlings, or plants, as are for their choiceness reserved in pots. Transplant also carnation seedlings, giving your layers fresh earth, and setting them in the shade for a week ; then likewise cut off all * See " Discourse of Earth," pp. 4G, 41. 453 the sick and infected leaves, for now you may set your choice ones out of covert, as directed in February. Now do the farewell frosts and easterly winds prejudice your choicest tulips, and spot them; therefore cover such with mats, or canvas, to prevent freckles, and sometimes destruction. The same care have of your most precious anemonies, auriculas, chamae-iris, brumal jacynths, early cyclamen, &e. Wrap your shorn cypress tops with straw wisps, if the Eastern blasts prove Very tedious, and forget not to cover with dry straw, or pease hame, your young exposed evergreens, as yet seedlings, such as firr, pine, phillyrea, bays, cypress. Sec. 'till they have pass'd two or three years in the nursery, and are fit to be trans- planted ; for the sharp Easterly and Northerly winds transpierce and dry them up. Let this also caution you upon all such extremities of the weather during the whole winter ; but be mindful to uncover them in all benign and tolerable seasons and intermissions ; it being these acute winds, and seldom or never the hardests frosts or snows, which do the mischief. About the end, uncover even your choicest plants, but with caution, for the tail of the frosts yet continuing, and sharp winds, with the sudden darting heat of the sun, scorch and destroy them in a moment : and in sUch weather neither sow nor transplant. Sow stock-gillyflower seeds in the full, to produce" double flowers. In the mean time, let gentlemen and ladies who are curious, trust little by mangonisme, insuccations, or medecine, to alter the species, or indeed the forms and shapes of flowers considerably, that is, to render that double which nature produces but single, &c. but by frequent transplanting, removing, &c. inriching the mould, to multiply and double ; and by sterving and hardning the earth, and consequently taking from the roots the freer nourishment, for variation and change- Make much of this document. Now you may set your oranges, lemmons, myrtles, oleanders, lentisci, datesj aloes, amomums, and like tender trees and plants, in the portico, or with the windows and doors of the green-houses and conservatories dpen, for eight or ten days before April, or earHer, if the season invite (that is, if the sharp winds be past), to acquaint them gradually with the air; I say gradually and carefully, for this change is the most 454 critical of the whole year ; trust not, therefore, the nights too confidently, unless the weather be thorowly settled. Now is also your season to raise stocks to bud oranges and lemmons on, by sowing the seeds early this month, in such mould as is mentioned in May. Let the seeds be of the Sevil orange, half a dozen in a pot is enough, plunging it in the hot-bed ; renew'd some time in May. Thus they will have shot near a foot before winter, and at the end of three years be fit for inoculation ; which you may now also bud at the end of this month, placing two buds opposite to each other, within an inch of the earth. Make much of this direction. ' ' '' Some of the hardiest evergreens may now be transplanted, especially if the weather be moist and temperate. Lastly, Bring in materials for the birds in the aviary to build their nests withal. Mowers in prime, and yet lasting. Anemonies, spring cyclamen, winter aconite, crocus, bellis, white and black hellebore, single and double hepatica, leucoion, chamse-iris of all colours, dens caninus, violets, fritillaria, chelidonium (small with double flowers), hermodactyls, tuberous iris, hyacinth zeboin, brumal, oriental, &c. junquills, great chalic'd, dutch mezereon, persian iris, auriculas, narcissus with large tufts, common, double, and single primroses, praecoce tulips, Spanish trumpets or junquils, violets, yellow dutch violets, ornithogalum max. alb. crown imperial, grape flowers, almonds and peach blossoms, rubus odoratus, arbor judae, &c. APRIL Hath XXX days — long, \3>^ 23m. . Sun rises 5^ ISm — sets 6^ 42". To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow sweet marjorum, |jyssop, basil*, thyme, winter savory, scurvy- grass, and all fine and tender seeds that require the hot-bed. > Note, that sweet herbs should be stirr'd up, and new moulded, to make them strike fresh roots. * This excellent herb is but little regarded at present, notwithstanding the introduction of French cookery into this country. 455 Sow also lettuce, purslan, caulyflower, radish, leeks, &c. One may sow radish and carrots together In the same bed, so as the first may be drawn, whilst the other Is ready. Sow radish, lettuce, purslan, sampler, parsnips, carrots, on the same ground, gathering each kind In their seasons, leaving the parsnips to winter : but It were good to change the ground for carrots and parsnips now and then. Remember to weed them when they are about two Inches high, and a little after to thin them with a small haugh. Plant artichoak-slips, &c. Set French-beans, &c. And sow turnips, to have them early. You may yet slip lavendar, thyme, penny-royal, sage, rosemary, &c. and the oftener you clip and cut them the more will they thrive. Sage so dress'd at the spring and autumn will cause It to continue long and fair, without re-planting. To have excellent salleting all the year round, sow turnip-seed, radish, lettuce, purslan, borrage, tarragon, and all other kinds, in very rich ground, and in winter and spring on the hot-bed, cover'd, &c. dirawing them root and all as soon as they open a leaf as broad as a threepenny piece, and so repeat sowing monthly. Geld and prune strawberries. Now also wall-trees, especially the peach, should have a second pruning, shortning the branches just ajbove the knit fruit. -Towards the middle of this month begin to plant forth your melons and cucumbers, and so to the latter end, your rjdges well prepared. Gather up worms and snails after evening showers; continue this after all summer rains. Soot-ashes, refuse sweepings of tobacco-stalks, made Into a fine powder or dust, and strewed half an Inch in thickness at the foot of trees, and now and then renewed, prevents pismires, and other crawling insects, from Invading the fruit, &c. Weed and haugh betimes. (See July.) In such bordures as you plant wall-fruit, or espaliers, (which bordures *should be, at the least, four or five foot in breadth,) plant neither herbs nor flowers, that you may be continually stirring the mould with the spade, and (as need Is;) 456 recreating it with composts. This may be instead (and far better) of hand-weeding ; only you may adorn the outward verge with an edging of pink, limon, thyme, veronica, &c. renewing them when you perceive them to grow sticky and leave gaps ; and you pnay sprinkle the rest of the surface with lettuce, radish, turnip-seeds, for tender salleting,. so you be sure to pull them up root and all by that time they are an inch high, and shew a leaf no broader than a three-pence. Open now your bee- hives, for now they hatch; look carefully to them, and prepare your hives, &c. Fruit in prime, or yet lasting. jApples. — Pippins, deux-ans, west-berry apple, russeting, july- flowers, flat reinet, &c. Pears. — Later bon-crestien, oak-pear, &c. double blossom, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Sow divers annuals to have flowers all summer; as double marigolds, digitalis, delphinium, cyanus of all sorts, candy-tufts, garden pansy, muscipula, scabius, scorpoides medica, holyhocks, columbines, bell- videre, which renew every five or six years, else they will degenerate, &c. Continue new and fresh hot-beds to entertain suxjh exotic plants as arrive not to their perfection without them, till the air and common earth be qualified with sufficient warmth to preserve them abroad. A catalffgue of these you have in the former month. Transplant such fibrous roots as you had not finish'd in March (for this is the better season), as violets, hepatica, primroses, hellebore, matricaria, &c. Place auricula seedlings in the shade. Sow pinks, carnations, which you may continue to trim up, and cleanse from dead and rotten leaves, viz. your old roots. Sow sweet- williams, &c. to flower next year : this after rain. Set lupines, &c. Sow leucoium in full moon, sprinkle it thin, frequently remove them, and replant in moist weather the foUowing spring. Sow also yet pine-kernels, fir-seede, phillyrea, alaternus, and most perennial greens. Vide September. 457 Now take out your Indian tuberoses *, parting the oflF-sets (but with care, lest you break their fangs, for it is from ofF-sets only that you may expect flowers in due time, and not from the mother" bulb), then pot them in natural f (not forc'd) earth ; a layer of rich mould beneath and about this natural earth, to nourish the fibres, but not so as to touch the bulbs : then plunge your pots in a hot -bed temperately warm, and give them no water till they spring, and then set them under a South wall : in dry weather water them freely, and expect an incomparable flower in August. Thus likewise treat the narcissus of japan, or guernsey lilly, mingling the earth with sea sand, for a later flower; although that nice curiosity, set only in a warm corner, expos'd to the South, without any removal at all for many years, has sometimes prospered better. Sea sand mingled with the mould more plentifully towards the surface, exceedingly contributes to the flourishing of this rare exotick. The protuberant fangs of the yuca are to be treated like the tuberoses. Make much of this precious direction. Set out and expose flos cardinalis. Slip and set marums. Water anemonies, ranunculus's especially, and plants in pots and cases once in two or three days, if drought require it. Note, that even anemonies, and flowers of that class, should be dis- creetly prun'd, where they mat too thick j as also gillyflowers and carnations, to produce fair flowers. But carefully protect from violent storms of rain, hail, tails of the frosts, and the too parching darts of the sun, your pennach'd tulips, ranunculus's, anemonies, auriculas, covering them with matrasses sup- ported on cradles of hoops, which have now in readiness. Now is the season for you to bring the choice and tender shrubs, &c. out of the conservatory, such as you durst not adventure forth in March ; let it be in a fair day; only your orange-trees may remain in the house till May (see the caution there), to prevent all danger. Yet if the weather prove benign you may adventure, about the middle of this month, giving a refreshment of water, not too cold : about four gallons of » This beautiful flower has been much neglected of late years. t See May. 3 N 458 heated water to twenty, will render it blood-warm, which is the fittest temper on all occasions throughout the year. Above all things, beware both of cold spring, pump, or stagnant shaded waters; that of the river is best, but of rain incomparable. In heat of summer, let the water stand in the sun till it grow tepid. Cold applications, and all extrearas, are pernicious. Now is the season (about the beginning of this month) to prune and cut off the tops of such trees as have shot above four or five inches. You may now graff these tender shrubs, &c. by approach, viz. oranges, lemmons, pomegranads, jasmines, &c. Now, towards the end of April, you may transplant and remove your tender shrubs, &c. as Spanish jasmines, myrtles, oleanders, young oranges, cyclamen, pomegranads, &c. ; but first let them begin to sprout, placing them a fortnight in the shade. But about Xiondon it may be better to defer this work till mid-August. Vide also May, from whence take directions how to refresh and trim them. Prune now your Spanish jasmine within an inch or two of the stock ; but first see it begin to shoot. Mow carpet-walks, and ply weeding, &c. Be diligent In ridding this work before they run to seed and grow downy, and speedily to rake away what you pull or haugh up, lest they take root and fasten again, and infect the ground. Note, that an half-spit deep stirring and turning up of the earth about your bordures of mural trees, &c. is to be preferred to hand- weeding, and more expeditious. Towards the end (if the cold winds are past), and especially after showets, clip phillyrea, alaternus, cypress, box, myrtles, barba jovis, and other tonsile shrubs, &c. , Here, to take off a reproach which box may lie under, (otherwise a most beautiful and useful shrub, for edgings, knots, and other ornaments of the coronary-garden,) because its scent is not agreeable to many, if immediately upon clipping (when only it is most offensive) you water it, the smell vanishes, and is no more considerable. Flowers in prime, or yel lasting. Anemonies, ranunculus's, arricula ursi, chamae-iris, crown imperial. 459 caprifollum, cyclamen, bell-flower, dens canlhus, fritillaria, gentianella' hypericum frutex, double hepatlca's, jacinth starry, double dasies, florence iris, tufted narcissus, white, double, and common, English double, primrose, cowslips, pulsatilla, ladies smock, tulips medias, ranunculus's of Tripoly, white violets, musk grape-flower, geranium,' radix cava, caltha palustris, parietaria lutea, leucoium, persian lilies^ peonies, double jonquils, muscaria reversed, cochlearia, persian jas- mine, acanthus, lilac, rosemary, cherries, wall-pears, almonds, abricots, peaches, white thorn, arbor Judae * blossoming, &c. n MAY Hath xxxi days —long, 15* 9"". Sun rises at 4» 25" —sets 7* 42''. In the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow sweet marjoran, basil, thyme, hot and aromatick herbs and plants, which are the most tender. Transplant sampler to some very warm exposure, as under a South wall. You cannot provide too much of this excellent ingredient to all crude sallads. Sow purslan, to have young ; lettuce, large-sided cabbage, painted beans, &c. Plant out cabbages and caully-flowers, nasturces, bete- chard, sellery. Look carefully to your melons ; and towards the end of this month forbear to cover them any longer on ridges, either with straw or matrasses, &c. Prune fig-trees. You may now give a third pruning to peach-trees, taking away and pinching oflF unblossoming branches. Break and pull ofi^ all crumpl'd dry'd leaves and wither'd branches of mural trees, and cleanse them from snails, caterpillars, &c. every where. Fig-trees may be graffed by inarching. Ply the laboratory, and .distil plants for waters, spirits, &c. • This early-flowering tree has never become common in this country 460 Continue weeding before they run to seeds ; carefully observing the directions of April and July, as of extraordinary importance both for saving charge, improvement of the fruit, and the neat maintaining of your garden. Now set your bees at full liberty, look out ofteji, and expect swarms, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Pippins, deux-ans, or john-apples, west-berry apples, russettings, gilly-flower apples, the maligar, &c. codling. Pears. — Great kairville, winter bon-chrestien, black pear of Worces- ter Surrein, double-blossom pear, &c. Cherries, &c. — ^The May- cherry*, strawberries, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Now forasmuch as gentlemen are very inquisitive when were the best and securest season for exposing their orange-trees f, and more tender curiosities, I give them this for a rule the most infallible : that they observe the mulberry-tree, when it begins to put forth and open the leaves (be it earlier or later), bring your oranges, &c. boldly out of the conservatory; 'tis your only season to transplant and remove them. Let this be done with care, if the tree be too ponderous to be lifted perpendicularly by the hand alone, by applying a triangle and puUy, and so with a rope, and a broad horse-girth at the end, lapped about the stem- (to prevent galling), draw out the tree, with competent mould adhering to it, having before loosned it from the sides of the case, and so with ease transfer it into another. Let the cases be filled with natural earth (such as is taken the first half spit from * Have we lost an early variety of this fruit, or is our season later ? t Orange-trees virere the principal ornament of the English greenhouse in Evelyn's time, as they still continue to be of those on the Continent. The Queen of Charles the First had an orange-house and orange-garden at Wimbledon, in Surrey, which were sold by order of the Parliament in 1649; when 42 orange- trees were valued at ^420, and one lemon-tree at sg20 j and 18 orange-trees, that had not borne fruit, sold for £90. See Phillips's Pomarium Britannicura. 461 just under the turf of the best pasture-ground *, in a place that has been well fother'd on), mixing it with one part of rotten cow-dung, (some prefer horse-dung,) or very mellow soil, screen'd and prepar'd some time before. If this be too stiff, sift a little lime discreetly with it, or rather sea-coal ashes, or the rotten sticks and stuff found in hollow willows ; and if it want binding, a little loamy earth. Then cutting the too thick and extravagant roots a little, especially at bottom, set your plant, but not too deep ; rather let some of the roots appear. If you see cause to form the heads of your trees, by cutting off any consi- derable branch, cover the wound or amputation with a mixture of bees- wax, rosin, and turpentine ; of the wax and turpentine each one ounce, of rosin two ; some add a little tallow. Lastly, settle it with tem- perately enriched water (such as is impregnated with neat and sheeps dung especially, set and stirr'd in the sun some few days before, but be careful not to drench them too much at first, but giving it by degrees day after day, without wetting the stem or leaves), having before put some rubbish of lime-stones, pebbles, shells, faggot-spray, or the like, at the bottom of the cases, to make the moisture passage, and keep the earth loose, for fear of rotting the fibres. See November. Then set them in the shade for a fortnight, and afterwards expose them to the sun ; vet not where it is too scorching by the reflection of walls, but rather where they may have the gentle shade of distant trees, or a palisade thin hedge or curtain drawn before them, which may now and then be sprinkl'd with water, as seamen do their sails. The morning sun, till about three in the afternoon, is best. Be not yet over-hasty in giving them the full sun ; for in your discreet acqainting them with this change consists their prosperity during all the summer after ■[•. Give now also your hous'd plants (such as you do not think requisite to take out) fresh earth at the surface, in place of some of the old earth (a hand depth or so), and loosning the rest with a fork, without wounding the roots. Let this be of excellent rich soil J, such as is * See " Discourse of Earth," pp. 40, 41. f Ibid, p; 41. J Vide July. 462 throughly consum'd, and will sift, that it may wash in the vertue, and comfort the plant. Brush and cleanse them likewise from the dust contracted during their enclosure. If you do not transplant or remove them about the middle of the month, take off the surface-earth about an inch or two deep, and put cow-dung of the last year's preparation in place of it, covering it over with the same mould. (See July.) But now for a compendium, and to gratifie gentlemen with what is most effec- tual, as well as easie. Let them always be provided with a plentiful stock of old neats'-dung, well air'd and stirr'd for two years. Then with three parts of this, and one of the bottom of the tanner's pit (with some addition of a light under-turf mould), they will be provided with an incomparable composition, not only for their orange-trees, but for all other sorts of verdures. But after all, where there is to be found a natural earth, with an eye of loam in it (such as is proper for most flowers, carnations especially), mixing it with well-consumed horse- dung, and something of a drying nature, such as is the ashes of sea- coal, in due proportion, to keep it loose and from clogging, you need seek for nothing more. Neither shall they need* much to trim the roots (unless they find them exceedingly matted and straggling), or put so much loose trash at the bottom of their cases ; but it were good to change them once in three or four years into larger ones, if they prosper; The least size of cases ought to be of sixteen inches, the middle sort of two foot, and the largest near a yard diameter, supported from the- ground with knobs or feet, four inches. These last directions have till now been kept as considerable secrets amongst our gard'ners. (Vide August and September.) Shade your carnations and gilly-flowers after mid-day about this season. You may likewise sow clove gilly-flowers, new-moon. Sow also your stock -gilly-flowers in beds, full- moon. Continue watering ranunculus's. Transplant forth your amaranthus's where you would have them stand. Sow antirrinum; or you may set it. Gather what anemony-seed you find ripe, and that is worth saving ; preserve it very dry. You may plant single anemonies. Prune jasmine close, within half an inch. 463 Cut likewise the stalks of such bulbous flowers as you find dry. Towards the end take up those tulips which are dry'd in the stalk ; covering what you find to lie bare from the sun and showers. And if you find any to be canker'd, bury them immediately in the ea^th again, before they be dry ; 'tis the best cure. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Late set anemonles and ranunculus omn. gen. anapodophylon, blat- taria, chamse-iris, augustifol. cyanus, cytisus, maranthe, cyclamen, helleborine, columbines, caltha palustris, double cotyledon, digitalis, fraxinella, gladiolus, geranium, hormlnum creticum, yellow hemero- callis, strip'd jacinth, early bulbous iris, asphodel, yellow, lillies, lychnis, jacea, bellis double, white and red, millefolium luteum, phalangium orchis, lilium convallium, span, pinks, deptford pinks, rosa common, cinnamon, guelder, and centifol. &c. oleaster, cherry-bay, trachelium, cowslips, hesperis, antirrhinum, syringas, sedums, tulips serotin,. &c. valerian, veronica double and single, musk violets, ladies slipper, stock- glUy-flowers, spanilh nut, star-flower, chalcedons, ordinary crowfoot, red martagon, bee-flowers, campanellas (white and blue), persian lilly, honey-suckles, buglos, homer's moly, and the white of dioscorides, pansis, prunella, purple thalictrum, sisymbrium (double and simple}, leucoium bulbosum serotinum, peonies, sambucus, rosemary, stsechas, sea-narcissus, barba jovis, laurus, satyrion, oxyacanthus, tamariscus, apple blossoms, &c. s JUNE Hath XXX days —long, le?- 17"". Sun rises S"" SI" — sets 8" 9": 2oL be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow lettuce, chervil, radish, &c; to have young and tender salleting. About the midst of June you may inoculate pea!ches, abricots, cher- ries, plums, apples, pears, &c. On \yhat stocks, see November. You jnay now also (or in May before) cleanse vines of exuberant branches and tendrels, cropping (not cutting) and stopping the second 464 joint, or immediately before the fruit, and some of the under branches which bear no fruit ; especially in young vineyards, when they first begin to bear, and thence forwards, binding up the rest to props. More ample directions for the nursery this month's beginning, see " Discourse of Earth," p. 15. Gather herbs in the full to keep dry. They keep and retain their: vertue and sweet smell, provided you take, the same care as you do in hay, that you expose them not in too thin but competent heaps, which you may turn and move till they be reasonably dry, not brittle, and the sooner it be dispatch'd the better. The gard'ner therefore should attend it himself; for theire is very great difference in the vertue of plants, according as they are dry'd. To preserve the colour of flowers or herbs, they should be dry'd in the shade ; but they will be apt to contract mustiness unless shewed to the sun a little. Now is your season to distill aromatidk plants, &c. Water lately planted trees, and put moist and half-rotten fearn, &c. about the foot of their stems, having first clear'd them of weeds, and a little stirr'd the earth. Now because the excessive scorchings of this and the two following months (and not seldom the winters also), do frequently indanger the untimely falling both of blossom and fruit before their maturity, place a vessel of impregnated water near the stem of the tree, and lap a rea- sonable long piece of flannel, or other woollen or linnen clout about it letting one end thereof hang in the water, by which the moisture ascending will be suck'd thro' the very bark, and consequently nourish and invigorate the tree to re-produce its former verdure. The water is to be supply'd as you find it convenient, and no longer, lest it sob your stem too much. This manner of refreshing is more to be preferr'd than by suffering it to drop only upon the earth (which yet in other occa- sions is profitable) per lingulam; which, if too plentifully, endangers the chilling and rotting of the fibres. Note, that sick trees, as orange,i&c. frequently impair'd by removes, carriage, ill handling, and other accidents, are many times recover'd by a milk diet; that is, diluting it with a portion of water discreetly 465 admlnlster'd, as you find amendment. Sometimes also by plunging them in the hot-bed ; or by letting the tree down into a pit of four or five foot depth, covering the head, and the rest pf the tree above, with a glaz'd frame. Either of these remedies projSt according as the plant is affected, wanting warmth or nourishment. Ply weeding as in the former month. Look to your bees for swarms and casts ; and begin to destroy insects with hoofs, canes, and tempting baits, &c. Gather snails after rain, &c. Fruits in primes or yet lasting. Apples. — Juniting (first ripe), pippins, john-apples, robillard, red Fennouil, &c. French. Pears. — The maudlin (first ripe), madeira, green-royal, St. Lawrence pear, &c. Cherries, &c. — Duke, flanders, heart (black, red, white), luke- ward, early flanders, the common cherry, Spanish black, naples cherries, &c. Rasberries, corinths *, strawberries, melons, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Transplant autumnal cyclamens now, if you would change their place ; otherwise let them stand. Take up iris chalcedon. Gather the ripe seeds of flowers worth the saving, as of choicest oriental jacinth, narcissus (the two lesser, pale, spurious daffodils, of a whitish green, often produces varieties), a^iculas, ranunculus's, &c. and preserve them dry. Shade your carnations from the afternoon sun. You may now begin to lay your gilly-flowersf . Sow some annuals to flower in the later months. * Currants were formerly considered to be a species of the gooseberryj and had no other name until they were called CorinthSj from their similitude to the small Z&Dte grapes (the currants of the grocers), which grew in great abundance about Corinth, and which now bear also the cor- rapted name of currants. f This alludes to the clove gilly-flower, Dianthus Cary&phyllm. The name of gillyflower was common to several plants, as the stock-gillyflower, and the wall-gillyflower. Our great Lexicogra- 3o 466 Take up your rarest anemonies and ranunculus's after rain (if it come seasonable, not before), the stalk wither'd, and dry the roots well. This about the end of the month. In naid-June inoculate jasmine, roses, and some other rare shrubs. Sow now also some anemony seeds. Take up your tulip bulbs, burying such immediately as you find naked upon your beds, or else plant them in some cooler place ; and refresh over-parch'd beds with water. Water your pots of narcissus of Japan (that precious flower), &c. Stop some of your scabious's from running to seed the first year, by now removing them, and next year they will produce excellent flowers. Also you may now take up all such plants and flower-roots as endure not well out of the ground, and replant them again immediately; such as the early cyclamen, jacinth oriental, and other bulbous jacinths, iris, fritillaria, crown imperial, martagon, muscaris, dens caninus, &c. The slips of myrtle set in some cool and moist place, do now frequently take root. Also cytisus lunatus will be multiplied by slips in a damp place, such as are an handful long of that spring, but neither by seeds nor layers. Look now to your aviary ; for now the birds grow sick of their feathers ; therefore assist them with emulsions of the cooler seeds bruised in their water, as melons, cucum- bers, &c. Also give them succory, beets, groundsel, chickweed, fresh gravel, and earth, &c. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus, anemonies single, antirrhinum, asphodel, campanula, convolvolus, cyclamen, clematis panonica, cyannus, blattaria, digitalis, gladiolus, hedysarum, geranium, horminum creticum, hieracium, hes- peris, bulbous iris, and divers others, lychnis var. generum, martagon (white and red), millefolium (white and yellow), nasturtium indicum. pher concludes that the word is corrupted from July flower, because Lord Bacon says, " in July come gillyflowers of all varieties ;" and Mortimer is also quoted, who writes, " Gillyflowers, or rather July flowers, are called from the month they blow in;" or, says Johnson, " from GixoJUe, of the French." It is evidently not derived from July, since Chaucer, who frequently uses French words, spells it gilofre. The learned Dr. Turner, in his History of Plants of 1568, calls it gelouer. Gerard, who succeeded Turijer, and after him" Parkinson, call it gilloflower, and thus it travelled from its original orthography, until it was called July-flower. Flora Historica, vol. II. 467 nigella, aster atticus, hellebore, alb. gentlana, trachelium, ficus indica, fraxinella, shrub nightshade, jasmines, honey-suckles, genista hisp. carnations, pinks, armerius, ornithogalum, pansy, phalangium virgini- anum, larksheel (early), philosella, roses, thlaspi creticum, &c. vero- nica, viola pentaphyl. campions or sultans, mountain lillies (white, red), double poppies, palm christi, stock -gilly-flowers, corn-flag, holly- hock, muscaria, serpillum citratum, phalangium allobrogicum, oranges, rosemary, gelder, and cynomon roses, tuber-rose, lentiscus, pomgranade, the lime-tree, &c. SI JULY Hath xxxi days — long, IS"- 69<°. Sun rises 4'' 0" — sets 8" 1». To he done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Sow lettuce, raddish, &c. to have tender salleting. Sow later pease, to be ripe six weeks after Michaelmas. Water young planted trees, and layers, &c. and re-prune now abri- cots and peaches, saving as many of the young likeliest shoots as are well placed ; for the now bearers commonly perish, the new ones suc- ceeding. Cut close and even, purging your wall-fruit of superfluous leaves, which hinder from the sun, but do it discreetly ; as also vines. It were now fit (and especially when the fruit is either forming or requires filling, and before if. the season be very dry), to give plentiful refreshments to your mural fruit-trees, pouring it leisurely into holes made with a wooden-pointed stake, at competent distance from the stem,' and so as not to touch or wound any of the roots. You may leave the short stakes in the holes for a while, or fill them with mould again. Thus may you feed your vines with blood, sweet, and mingled with water, &c. But this, and all pther summer refreshings, is only to be done early in the morning, or late in the evenings. You may now also begin to inoculate. Let such olitory-herbs run to seed as you would save. 468 Towards the latter end, visit your vineyards* again, &c. and stop the exuberant shoots at the second joint above the fruit (if not finish'd before), but not so as to expose it to the sun, without some umbrage. Remove long-sided cabbages planted in May, to head in autumn ; 'tis the best cabbage in the world. Remember to cut away all rotten and putrify'd leaves from your cabbages, which el^e will infect both earth and air. Now begin to streightfen the entrance of your bees a little, and help them to kill their drones, if you observe too many : setting the new- invented cucurbit-glasses of beer mingled with honey, to entice the wasps, flies, &c. which waste your store. Also hang bottles of the same mixture near your red roman nectarines, and other tempting fruits and flowers, for their destruction ; else they many times invade your best fruit. Set therefore up hoofs of neats'-feet for the earwigs, and remember to cleanse and shake them out at noon, when they con- stantly repair for the shade. They are cursed devourers; nor ought vou to be less diligent to prevent the ants, which above all invade the orange-flower, by casting scalding brine on their hills and other receptacles. Look no'iy also diligently under the leaves of mural-trees for the snails ; they stick commonly somewhat above the fruit. Pull not off" what is bitten, for then they will certainly begin afresh. Have still an eye to the weeding and cleansing part. Begin the work of hau'ghing as soon as ever they begin to peep ; you will rid more in a few hours than afterwards in a whole day ; whereas, neglect- ing it till they are ready to sow themselves, you do but stir and pnepare for a more numerous crop of these garden-sins : I cannot too often inculcate and repeat it. Fruits in primes or yet lasting. ApPLES.-^-Deux-ans, pippins, winter russeting, iandrew apples, cin- namon-apple, red and white juneting, the margaret-apple, &c. * Vineyards were common in England in the time of Evelyn. See " Pomarium Britannicum," .3d edit. p. 185. 469 Pears.— The primat, russet pears, summer pears, green chesil pears, orange pear, cuisse madame, pearl pear, &c. Cherries. — Carnations, morella, great-bearer, morocco cherry, the egriot, bigarreux, &c. Peaches. — Nutmeg, isobella, persian, newington, violet, muscat, rambouillet. PruMs, &c. — Primordial, myrobalan, the red, blue, and amber violets, damasc. denny damasc. pear-plum, damasc. violet, or cheson plum, abricot-plum, cinnamon plum, the king's plum, Spanish, mo- rocco-plum, lady Eliz. plum, tawny, damascene, &c. figgs. Rasberries, gooseberries, corinths, strawberries, melons, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Slip stocks, and other lignous plants and flowers. From henceforth to Michaelmas you may also lay gilly-flowers and carnations for in- crease, leaving not above two or three spindles for flowers, and nipping off superfluous buds, with supports, cradles, canes, or hoofs, to establish them against winds, and destroy earwigs. The layers will (in a month or six weeks) strike root, being planted in a light loamy earth, mixed with excellent rotten soil, and sifted. Plant six or eight in a pot to save room in winter. Keep them well from too much rains ; yet water them in drought, sparing the leaves. If it prove too wet, lay your pots side-long ; but shade those which blow from the afternoon sun, as in the former month- Yet also you may lay myrtles, laurels, and other curious greens. Water young planted shrubs and layers, &c. as orange-trees, myrtles, granades *, amonlum especially, which shrub you can hardly refresh too often, and it requii'es abundant compost ; as do like\vise both the myrtle and granade-trees ; therefore, whenever you trim their roots, or change their earth, apply the richest soil (so it be sweet and well consum'd) you can to them, &c. Clip box, &c. in parterres, knots, and compartiments, if need be, and that it grow out of order : do it after rain. * Note, that the granade flourishes best in earth not over-rich. 470 Graff by approach, inarch, and inoculate jasmines, oranges, and other your choicest shrubs. Take up your early autumnal cyclamen, tulips, and bulbs (if you will remove them, &c.) before mentioned ; transplanting them imme- diately, or a month after, if you please, and then cutting off and trim- ming the fibres, spread them to air in some dry place. But separate not the off-sets of tulips, &c. until the mother bulb be fully dry. Gather tulip-seed, if you please ; but let it lie in the pods. Gather now also your early cyclamen-seed, and sow it presently in, pots. Remove seedling crocus's sow'd in September constantly at this season, placing them at wider intervals till they begin to bear. Likewise you may take up some anemonies, ranunculus's, crocus, crown imperial, persian iris, fritillaria, and colchicums ; but plant the three last as soon as you have taken them up, as you did the.cyclamens ; or you may stay till August or September ere you take them up, and replant colchicums. Remove now dens caninus, &c. Take up your gladiolus now yearly, the blades being dry, or else their off-sets will poison the ground. Latter end of July, treat your orange-trees, &c. as directed in Mav, by refreshing the surface of the cases, to nourish and keep the fruit cool and in vigour. Sift your beds for off-sets of tulips, and all bulbous roots ; also for anemonies ranunculus's, &c. which will prepare for re- planting with such things as you have already in pots, to plunge or set in the naked earth till the next season ; as amaranths, canna ind. mira- bile peruv. capsicum ind. nasturtium ind. &c. that they may not lie empty and disfurnished. You may sow some anemonies, keeping them temperately moist. Continue to cut off the wither'd stalks of your lower flowers, &c. and all others, covering with, earth the bared roots, &c. Now (in the driest season) with lime, brine, pot-ashes (which is the very best of all, because being cast on fine turf it destroys the worms, and improves the grass, which most other applications mortify), and water, or a decoction of tobacco refuse, water your gravel-walks, &c. 471 to destroy both worms and weeds, of which it will cure them for some years. Flowers in primes or yet lasting. Amaranthus, asphodel, antirrhinum, campanula, clematis, cyanus, convolvolus, sultana, veronica purple and odoriferous, digitalis, eryn- gium planum ind. phaseolus, geranium triste, nocte olens, and creti- cum, gladiolus, gentiana, hiesperis, nigella, hedysarum, fraxinella, lychnis chalcedon, jacea (white and double), nasturt. ind. millefolium, musk-rose, flos africanus, thlaspi creticum, veronica mag. et parva, volubilis, balsam-apple, holy-hoc, corn-flower, alkekengi, lupines, scor- pion-grass, caryophyllata omn. gen. stock-gilly-flower, scabiosa, mirab. peru, spartum hispan. monthly rose, jasmine, indian tuberous jacinth, limonium, linaria cretica, pansies, prunella, delphinium, phalanglum, periploca virgin, flos passionis, flos cardinalis, yucca, oranges, amomum plinii, oleanders (red and white), agnus castus, arbutus, olive, ligustrum, tilia, &c. m AUGUST Hath xxxi days — long, 14'' SS". ■: Sun rises, 4"' 43"' — sets 7l» 17m. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Inoculate now early, if before you began not, and gather your bud of that year. Let this work be done before you remove the stocks. Prune off yet also superfluous branches and shoots of this second spring; but be careful not to expose the fruit without leaves sufficient to screen it from the sun, furnishing and nailing up what you will spare to cover the defects of your walls. Continue yet to cleanse your vines from exuberant branches that too much hinder the sun. Do this discreetly, lest the fruit shrivel, being too much expos'd. Pull up the suckers. Clip roses now done bearing. Sow radish, especially the black, to prevent running up to seed, pale tender cabbages, cauly-flowers for winter plants, corn sallet, marigolds, 472 lettuce, carrots, parsnips, turnips, spinage, onions ; also curl'd endive, angelica, scurvy-grass, &c. Strip or tread down onions, and strip the leaves of beets, carrots, parsnips, &c. to improve the roots. Note, that if plants run up to seed over-hastily (as they will be apt to do, being early sown, and the weather hot), pull their roots a little out of the ground, and lay them along in it somewhat slanting, and clap some mould about them. Cauly-flowers over-speeding to pome and head (before they have quite perfected their heads) should be quite eradicated, and may be buried in a cellar, or some cool place, both root and stalk up to the very head, and so they will furnish goodly heads, without sun or exposure abroad. Likewise now pull up ripe onions and garlick, &c. Towards the end sow purslan, chard-beet, chervil, &c. Transplant such lettuce as you will have abide all winter. Gather your olitory-seeds, and clip and cut all such herbs and plants within one handful of the ground before the full. Lastly, Unbind and release the buds you inoculated, if taken, &c. ; likewise stop and prune them. Pluck up strawberry runners, extirpate the tall stalks, and purge the old tufts and leaves. Now vindeniiate, and take your bees towards the expiration of this month, uidess you see cause (by reason of the weather or season) to defer it till mid-September ; but, if your stocks be very light and weajs, begin the earlier. Make your summer perry and cider. See " Discourse of Cider," at the end of our "Pomona." Fruits in prime, and yet lasting. Apples. — The ladies longing, the kirkham apple, johji-^pple, the seaming apple, cushion apple, spicing, may-flower, sheeps snout. Pears. — Windsor, sovereign, orange, bergamot, slipper pear, red Catherine, king Catherine, denny pear, prussia pear, summer peppering, sugar pear, lording pear, &c. 473 Peaches and Abricots. — Roman peach, man peach, quince peach, rambouillet, musk peach, grand carnation, portugal peach, crown peach, bourdeaux peach, lavar peach, maudlen, minion peach, the peach des pot, savoy malacoton, which lasts till Michaelmas. Nectarines. — ^The muroy nectarine, tawny, red roman, little green nectarine, cluster nectarine, yellow nectarine. Plums.— Imperial, blue, white dates, yellow pear-plum, black pear- plum, white nutmeg, late pear-plum, great anthony, turkey-plum, the jane- plum. Other Fruit.— Cluster-grape, muscadine, corinths, cornelians *, mulberries, figs, filberts, melons, &c. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Now (and not till now, if you expect success) is the just season for the budding of the orange-tree. Inoculate, therefore, at the commence- ment of this month, upon seedling stocks of four years growth. And to have excellent buds, cut off the head of some very old orange-tree of a good kind, which making large shoots, will furnish the best. Now likewise take up your bulbous iris ; or you may sow their seeds, as also those of larks-^heel, candy-tufts, columbines, iron-colour'd fox- gloves, holly-hocks, and such plants as endure winter, and the approach- ing seasons. Plant some anemony roots to have flowers all winter, if the roots escape, and take up your seedlings of last year, which now transplant for bearing. Also plant dens caninus, autumnal crocus, and colchicums. Note, that English saflPron may be suflfered to stand for increase to the third or fourth year without removing. You may now sow narcissus and oriental jacinths, and re-plant such * This fruit is no longer seen in our orchards or at our tables. Phillips says, in his " Sylva Florifera," "The cornelian cherry, carnvs mascula, is now removed from the orchard to the shrubbery; but in this latter situation it is at present so seldom seen, that many persons do not even know that this beautifully-transparent fruit exists, which flourished in the earliest English gatdens, graced the desserts of our forefathers, and furnished their dames with fruit for tarts, rob, and marmalade." Vol. I. p. 185. 3 p 474. as will not do well out of the earth ; as fritlUaria, hyacinths, martagon, dens caninus, lillies. GlUy-flowers may yet be slipp'd. Continue your taking up of bulbs, dry them, and lay them up; lillies, &c. of which before. Gather from day to day your alaternus seed as it grows black and ripe, and spread it to sweat and dry before you put it up ; therefore move it sometimes with a broom or whisk, that the seeds clog not together, unless you will separate It from the mucilage ; for then you must a little bruise it wet : wash and dry them in a cloth. Water well your balsamine fcem. Most other seeds may now likewise be gather'd from shrubs, as you find them ripen. About mid-August transplant auriculas, dividing old and lusty roots ; also prick out your seedlings. They best Jike a loamy sand, or light moist earth, yet, rich and shaded. You may likewise sow auricula. Now, towards the latter end, you may sow anemony seeds, ranun- culus's, &c. lightly cover'd with fit mould in cases, shaded, and fre- quently refreshed. Also cyclamen, jacinths, iris, hepatica, primroses, fritillaria, martagon, fraxinella, tulips, &c. but with patience, for some of them, because they flower not till three, four, five, six, and seven years after, especially the tulips, unless you sow the seeds so shallow that they cannot penetrate or sink above an inch or two ; which is a secret. Therefore disturb not their beds (but hand-weed them), and let them be under some warm place, shaded yet, till the heats are past, lest the seeds dry; only the hepaticas and primroses may be sow'd in some less expos'd beds. Now, about Bartholomew-tide, is the only, secure season for removing and laying your perennial, greens, oranges, lemons, myrtles, phillyreas, oleanders, jasmines, arbutus, and other rare shrubs, as pomegranads, monthly roses, and whatever is most obnoxious to frosts ; taking the shoots and branches of the past spring, and pegging them down in very rich earth, and soil perfectly consum'd, watering them upon all occasions during the summer ; and by this time twelventionth they will be ready to remove, transplanted In fit earth, set in the shade, and kept 475 moderately moist, not over- wet, lest the young fibres rot': after three weeks set them in some more airy place, but not in the sun till fifteen days more. Vide our observations in April and May, for the rest of these choice directions. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus, anagallis, lusitanica, aster atticus, blattaria, Spanish bells, belvedere, carnations, campanula, clematis, cyclamen verhum, datura turcica, eliochryson, eryngium planum et amethystinum, gera- nium creticum, and triste. Yellow stocks, hieracion minus alpestre, tuberose hyacinth, limonium, linaria cretica, lychnis, mirabile peruvian, yellow millefolium, nastur. ind. yellow mountain hearts-ease, maracoc, africanus flos, convolvolus's, scabious, asphodils, delphinium, lupines, colchicum, leucoion, autumnal hyacinth, holly-hock, starwort, heliotrop, french marigold, daisies, geranium nocte olens, common pansies, larks- heels of all colours, nigella, helleborus, balsamin. fcem. Lobels catch- fly, thlaspi creticum, rosemary, musk rose, monthly rose, oleanders, Spanish jasmine, yellow Indian jasmine, myrtles, oranges, pomegranads (double and single flowers), shrub spiraea, agn us castus, the virginian martagon, malva arborescens, &c. ^ SEPTEMBER Hath XXX days — long, 12li 37™. Sun rises 5li 4ini — sets 6^ 19™. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Gather now (if ripe) your winter-fruits, as apples, pears, plums, &c. to prevent their falling by the great winds. Also gather your wind- falls from day to day. Do this work in dry weather. Release inoculated buds, or sooner, if they pinch. You may yet inoculate peaches. Sow lettuce, radish, splnage, chervil, parsnips, skirrets, &c. cauly- flowers, cabbages, onions, &c. scurvy-grass, anniseeds, &c. And fill your vacant beds with sallading, this month and the next. 476 Now you may transplant most sorts of esculent or physical plants, &c. Also artichoaks and asparagus -roots *. Sow also winter herbs and roots, and plant strawberries out of the woods. Set them a foot or more asunder. Bind up and blanch sellery, chardon, &c. but tie not up in wet weather. Towards the end, earth up your winter-plants and sallet-herbs, and plant forth your caulyflowers and nursery-cabbages under shelter, for winter store, which were sown in August. Prepare compost (see January) ; and for trenching and preparing the earth, see " Discourse of Earth," p. 14. No longer now defer the taking of your bees, streightening the entrances of such hives as you leave to a small passage, and continue still your hostility against wasps, and other robbing insects. Cider-making continues. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — ^The belle-bonne, the william, summer pear-main, lording- apple, pear-apple, quince-apple, red-greening ribb'd, bloody pippin, harvy, violet-apple, &c. Pears. — Hamden's bergamot (first ripe), summer bon-chrestien, norwich, black Worcester (baking), greenfield, orange, bergamot, the queen hedge-pear, lewis-pear (to dry excellent), frith-pear, arundel pear (also to bake), brunswick-pear, butter-pear, winter poppering, bing's-pear, bishop's pear (baking), diego, eraperor's-pear, cluster- pear, messire jean, rowling-pear, balsam-pear, bezy d'hery, pear Evelyn, &c. Peaches, &c. — ^Violet peach, admirable, purple peach, malacoton, and some others, if the year prove backwards. Almonds, &c. Quinces. Figs perfectly ripe. * See " Discourse of Earth," p. 38. 477 Litde blue grape, nmacadine-grape, frontiniac, p^rsly, great blue grape, the verjuice grape, excellent for sauce, &c. Barberries, &c. Melons as yet. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Plant some of all the sorts of anemonies in good, rich, natural earth, especially the latifol. after the first rains, if you will have flowers very forward ; but it is surer to attend till October, or the month aft^r, lest the over moisture of the autumnal seasons give you cause to repent. Now is the most proper season to sow auricula-seeds, setting the cases in the sun till April. (See April.) Begin now also to plant some tulips, unless you will stay till the latter end of October, to prevent all hazard of rotting the bulbs. Plant daffodils and colohicum. All fibrous plants, such as hepatica, hellebore, camomile, &c. also the capillaries, matricaria, violets, primroses, &c. may now be trans- planted : as likewise iris chalcedon, cyclamen, &c. Now you may also continue to sow alaternus, phillyrea (or you may forbear till the spring), irig, crown imperial, martagon, tulips, del- phinium, nigella, candy-tufts, poppy; and generally all the annuals which are not impaired by the frosts. Sow primroses likewise. Remove seedling digitalis, and plant the slips of lychnis at the beginning. Your tuberoses will not endure the wet of this season, therefore set the pots (having laid them side-long to drain) into your conserve, and keep them very dry. It is best to take them out pf the pots about the beginning of this month, and either to preserve them in dry sand, or wrap them up in papers, and so put them in a box near the chimney. Bind now up your autumnal flowers and plants to stakes, to prevent sudden gusts, which will else prostrate all you have so industriously raised. Now you may take off gilly-flower-layers with earth and all, and plant them in pots or borders shaded. Crocus will now be rais'd of seeds. 478 You may yet transplant evergreens, and other rare shrubs of the last month. Prune pines and firs a little after this Equinox, if you omitted it in March (much the better season). Vide March. About Michaelmas, sooner or later, as the season directs, the weather fair, and by no means foggy, retire your choice greens and rarest plants (being dry), as oranges, lemons, indian and Spanish jas- mine, oleanders, barba jovis, amomum plin. cytisus lunatus, chamelsea tricoccos, cistus ledon clusii. dates, aloes, sedums, &c.* into your con- servatory ; ordering them with fresh mould, as you were taught in May and July, viz. taking away some of the upmost exhausted earth, and stirring up the rest, fill the cases with rich and well-consumed soil, to wash in and nourish the roots during winter ; but as yet leaving the doors and windows open, and giving them free air, so the winds be not sharp and high, nor weather foggy ; do thus till the cold *being more intense, advertise you to inclose them altogether. Myrtles will endure abroad near a month longei". The cold now advancing, set such plants as will not endure the house into the earth ; the pots two or three inches lower that the surface of some bed under a Southern exposure. Then cover them with glasses, having cloathed them first with sweet and dry moss; but upon all warm and benign emissions of the sun, and sweet showers, give them air, by taking off all that covers them. Thus you shall pre- serve your costly and precious marum syriacum, cistus's, geranium nocte olens, flos cardinalis, marcocs, seedling arbutus's (a very hardy plant when greater), choicest ranunculus's and anemonies, acacia, aegypt, &c. Thus governing them till April. Secrets not till now divulged. Note, that cats will eat and destroy your marum syriacum, if they can come at it ; therefore guard it with a furse or holly-branch. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus tricolor (and others), anagallis of portugal, antirrhi- * This contains a catalogue of nearly all the green-house plants of the day in which the Author lived. 479 nam, afrlcan flo. amomum pllnii, aster atticus, belvedere, bellis, cam- panula's, colchlcum, autumnal cyclamen, clematis, chrysanthemum angustlfol. eupatorium of Canada, sun-flower, stock gll. flower, geranium creticum and nocte olens, gentianella annual,. hieracion minus alpestre, tuberous indian jacinth ,( linaria cretica, lychnis, constant, (single and double), limonium, indian lilly, narciss. pomum aureum, amoris, et spinosum ind. marvel of peru, millefolium (yellow), moly monspeliens. nasturtium indicum, persian autumnal narcissus, Virginian phalangium, indian phaseolus, scarlet , beans, convolvolus divers, gen. candy-tufts, veronica, purple volubilis, asphodil, crocus, or english safiron, garnsey lilly, or narcissus of japan, poppy of all colours, single and double, malvse arborescens, indian pinks, aethiopick apples, capsicum ind. gilly- flowers, passion flower, datura (double and single), portugal ranuncu- lus's, Spanish jasmine, rhododendron (white and red), oranges, myrtles, balaustia, musk rose, and monthly rose, &c. iri OCTOBER Hath xxxi day — long, 10'' 47°!. — Sun rises 6^ 38™ — sets 5'' 22™. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Trench grounds for orcharding and the kitchen -garden, to lie for a winter mellowing *. Finish what you begun the last month. Plant dry trees: 1. Fruit of all sorts, standard, mural, or shrubs which lose their leaf, and that so soon as it falls; but be sure you chuse no trees for the wall of above two years grafting at the most, sound and smooth -j". Now is the time for ablaqueation, and laying bare the roots of old, unthriving, and over-hastily blooming trees; stirring up new planted grounds, as directed in March. Moon now decreasing, gather winter-fruit that remains, weather dry ; take heed of bruising ; lay them up clean, lest they taint. Cut and prune roses yearly, reducing them to a standard not over tall. * See "Discourse of Earth," p. 13. t Ibid, p. 39; and "Pomona," cap. 6. 480 To prevent bruising by windfalls and gusts, now usually hapning, lay some sweet straw under your fruit-trees. Plant and plash quick-sets. Remove graffs after the second year, unless dwarfs, which you may let stand till the third. Save and sow all stotty and hard kernels and seeds, such as black cherry, morellos, black heart, all good ; pear-plum, peaches, almond- stones, &c. Also nuts, haws, ashen, sycamore, and maple keys ; acorns, beech-mast, apple, pear, and crab kernels, for stocks ; or you may defer it till the next month, towards the latter end, keeping them drv and free from mustiness, remembering to cover the beds with littler. See Directions in our " Sylva for Forest Trees," and " Pomofrta," c. 1. You may yet sow genoa lettuce, which will last all the winter*, radish, &c. Make winter cider and perry. Towards the latter end plant abricots, cherries, plums, vines, winter pears, &c. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — Belle -et-bonne, william, costard, lording, parsley-apples, pearmain, pear-apple, honey-meal, apis, &c. Pears. — The caw-pear (baking), green-butter-pear, thorn-pear, clove-pear, roussel-pear, winter bon-chrestien, town -pear, lombart-pear, russet-pear, saffron- pear, and some of the former month, violet-pear, petworth-pear, otherwise called the winter-windsor, lansac, bearn- pear, admirable, violet peach, rambouUet, paves, &c. BuUis, and divers of the September plums, the chasselas, and other grapes, pines, arbutus-f, &c. To he done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Now your narcissus tuberose, not enduring the wet, must be set into the house, and preserved very dry till April. (See September.) * Especially under glass bells, or frames, with a little straw over them, when the hard frosts come ; but then touch them not till they thaw, lest you break the glasses. t The arbutus, or strawberry-tree, was rare in Evelyn's time. This fruit has never been held in estimation in England, although it frequently ripens well in this country. It is common in the markets of Constantinople. 481 Continue sowing, what you did in September, if you please. Like wise cypress may be sown, but take heed of the frost; thetrefore forbea much clipping. (Vide March.) Also, You may plant some anemonies *, :eispecially the tenuifolias, -am ranunculus's in fresh sandish earth, taken from under the turf, but la richer movild at the bottom of the bed, which the fibres may reach, bu not to" touch the main roots, which are to be cover'd with the natura earth two inches deep ; and so soon as they appear secure them wit] mats or dry straw from the winds and frosts, giving them air in al benign intervals, if possible once a day. Plant also ranunculus's of Tripoly, vernal crocus's, &c. Remov seedling hollyhocks, or others. Plant now. your choice tulips, &c. which you fear'd to interr at th beginning of .September ; they will be more securfej and forward enough but plant them in natural earth somewhat impoverish'd with ver fine sand, else they will soon loose their variegations i some more ricl earth may lie at the bottom, within reach of the fibres (as above). No\ have a care your carnations catch not too mudi wet ; therefore retir thena to covert, where they may be keptirom the rain, not the air, o lay them on their sides, trimming them wiith fresh mould. AH sorts of bulbous roots may now alsfr be safely btaried; likewis iris's, &c. . You may yet sow alatemus and phillyrea seeds. It will now b good to beat, roll, and mow carpet walks and camomile ; for now th grQundbkisiupple, and it will even all inequalities. Finish your las weeding, &c. Sweep and cleanse your walks, and all Other places, from autumna leaves fallen, lest the worms draw them into their holes, and foul you gai^ens, &c. t^lowefs in prime, or yet lasting. Amaranthus tricolor, &cv; aster attieuSj amomums, antirrhinum * The observations on planting anemonies, ranunculuses, and tulips, have not been improve upon since the Author's time; and were they more generally attended to, we should see thes flowers in greater beauty than the generality of modern gardens present them. 3q 482 colchicum, saiFron, cyclamen, clematis, heliotrops, stock -gilly-flowqr, geranium triste, ind. tuberose, jacinth, limonium, lychnis (white and double), pomum amorls and "aethiop. marvel of peru, miilefol. luteam, autumnal narciss. pansies, aleppo narciss. sphserical narciss. nasturt. persicum, gillyfl. virgin phalangium, pilosella, violets, veronica, arbu- tus, span, jasmine, and yellow ind. jasmine, monthly rose, oranges, myrtks, balaustor, pomegranade. f NOVEMBER Hath XXX days — long, 8h S?". Sun rises 7^ 34m — sets 4h Sem, To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Carry compost out of your melon-ground, or turn and mingle it with the earth, and lay it in ridges ready for the spring. Also trench, and fit grounds for artichoaks, &c. * The hot-bed must now supply for sallets, young lettuce, cresses, chervil, &c. and trust not to the accidental -mildness of the weather, so as to neglect timely cover to your tender olitorles. Shelter fig-trees^ Plant also gooseberries, raspis, corinths, and other shrub fruit. Note, that the leaves fallen in the. woods may supply for long-dung, laid about artichoaks and other things, even to the end of March. ' Continue your setting and transplanting of trees ; lose, no time, hard frosts come on apace. Yet you may lay bare old roots ^. Remember in all transplantings to observe the former aspects and quarter of the compass, as of much importance, whatever some fancy. Nor set any deeper than it stood, establishing it against winds. You cannot plant too early in autumn, wind South or West. To sow moderately dry, plant inoist, a general rule ; but cover not too thick with earth what you sow, for nature covers nothing. You cannot sow too shallow, so you preserve the seeds from, birds. Plant.young trees, standards, or mural J. * See " Discourse of Eartli," p. 38. f Ibid. p. 39. + Ibid. p. 39. 483 Furnish your nursery with stocks to grafF on the following year. Prepare now stocks for all sorts of fruit. The proper ones are, the €rab-stock for standards. For dwarfs, stocks of the paradise or sweet apple-kernel, which are likewise to be had from layers and suckers. Pears, on the pear-kernel stock or sucker. Dwarfs, on the suckers of the Portugal quince. Cherry standards, on the black cherry-stone stock. Dwarfs for walls or palisades, on the morello stock, black heart, or small, bitter, early cherry-stock. Peaches, inoculate on the peach or plum-stock. If you bud upon the almond, let it be on a stock which has never been removed, and so continue. But the best way to prepare these stocks, see in M. de la Quintinye's Gompleat Gard'ner, vol. ii. part vi. p. I72, too long here to be inserted. Nectarines, on peach, or pear-plum stock. Abricots, oq the white pear-plum stocks. Plums, on plum-stocks. The white and black pear-plum stock are best, and from the stones of damsons, and may all be gotten also from . their suckers. Graff the medlar on the white-thorn or quince stock, near the ground, it vi^ill bear the second year. Figs and mulberries will be propagated by their suckers, cuttings, and layers; of all which see our Treatise of Earth, for their culture in the nursery. Sow and set early beans and pease till Shrovetide ; and now lay up in your cellars for spending, and for seed, to be transplanted at spring, carrots, parsnips, turnips, cabbages, caulyflowers, &c. Cut off the tops and stalks of asparagus, and cover it with long dung, or make beds to plant in spring, &c. Now, in a dry day, gather your last orchard-fruits. Take up your potatoes for winter spending ; there will enough remain for stock, tho' never so exactly gathered *. Ablaqueation now profitable, and to visit the roots of old trees, purge * This shows how little the eultivation of this excellent root was understood. 484 the sickly, and apply fresh mould. Cover also your most delicate stone-fruit and murals, skreening them with straw-hurdles, as long as the East and Northern winds continue, even to the end of March, to be sure of fruit. Stand therefore not so much u-pon, the beauty, as for its preservation and production. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples. — ^The belle -bonne,, the william, summer pearmain, lording- apple, pear-apple, cardinal, winter chestnut, calvil, shortstart, &c, and some other of the former two last months. Pears. — Messire jean, lord-pear, long bergamot, warden (to bake)*, burnt-cat, sugar-pear, lady-pear, amadot, ambret, ice-pear, dove-pear, virgoule, deadman's pear, winter bergamot, bell-pear, &c. Arbutus, bullis, medlars, services. « To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. Sow auricula seeds thus : prepare very rich earth, more than half dung ; upon that sift some very light sandy mould, and the earth gotten out of old hollow willow trees, and then sow. Set your cases or pans in the sun till March or April. Cover your peeping ranunculus's, &g. And see the advice in March for evergreen seedlings, especially if . long snows and bitter winds be feared: prepare, therefore, store of coverings. Now is your best season (the weather open) to, plant your fairest tulips in places of shelter, and under espaliers; but let not your earth be too rich. (Vide October.) Transplant ordinary jasmine, &c. About the middle of this month (or sooner if weather require) quite enclose your tender , plants, and perennial greens, shrubs, &c> in your conservatory, secluding all entrance of cold, and especially sharp winds ; and if the plants become exceeding dry, and that it do not actually freeze, refresh them sparingly (see April) with qualified water mingled with a little sheep's or cow-dung. If the season prove exceeding * The fifteenth Plate of P. Tempest's "Cryes of the City of London, drawne after the Life,"^ and publfahed in the seventeenth century, represents a female carrying a covered vessel on her head, with these words subjoined, " flb« 6aO Wardens Aqa." 485 piercing,, (whieh yoa may know by tfeie freezing of a dish of water or moistned cloth, set foe that purpose in your greenhouse,) kindle some charcoals, and when they have done smoaking, put them in a hole s«nk a little into the floor, about the, middle of it;; unless your green- house have a subterranean! stove*,, which moderately and withjudgment temper'd, is much to be preferr'd. In the mean, time, I could wish, that some curious person would make trial of what we have described at the end of this Kalendar. At all other times,; when it does not actually freeze, or the weather not raiay or misty,, and that the air is warm'd by' the beams of a fine day,, (and the sun darts full upon the house, vwthout the least wind stirring, shew them the light through the glass windows, (for light is half their nourishment, philosophically consider'd,) but inclose them again before the sun be gone ofl', if it be inclin'd to frost, otherwise keep open housejall ni^tlong. Note, that when, thro' continuance of hard and sharp weather, housed trees grow tainted with mustiness, make fire in your stove, and open all the windows from ten in the morning till three in; the afternoon. Then closing the double-shuts, (or chasses rather^) continue a gentle heat, renewing the fire at night t)nly.. Note, that you must never give your aloes or sedums one drop of water during the whole winter; and indeed you, can hardly be too sparing of water to your hous'd plants (orange- trees especially).; the not observing of this^ destroys more plants than all the rudenesses of the season. To know when they want refreshing, consider the leaves : if they shrivel and fold up, give them drink; if pale and whitish, they have already too much, and the defect is at the roots, which are in peril ©f rotting, and require larger cases. Take also^ this; for a rule, that you are not much to regard the surface mould alone, which will oftentimes be dust, when the earth about the roots is sufficiently * The heating of greenhouses by means of stoves was not understood at this period, but in the year 1685 this method is noticed by Evelyn, who writes thus in his Diary, 7th AugfiSt of that date : "I wentttjsee Mr. Wats, keeper of the i^ottoecariBs" Gatxlen of Simples, at Chelsea, where.there is a coUection of innumerable rarities of that sort particularly, besides. many rare annuals, the tree bearing Jesuits bark, which had don such wonders in quartan agues. What was very ingenious, was the subterranean heate conveyed by a stove under the conservatory, all vaulted with brick, so as he has the doores and windowes open in the hardest frosts, secluding only the snow." 486 moist ; search it, therefore, by thrusting down your hand, and as you find it, govern the watering, for in this secret of seasonably refreshing, consists the health, and even life, of all your hous'd curiosities. Note, that water made over-rich with dung, and too frequently us'd, is apt to infect the orange-leaves, and those of other rare plants, with a black smut, which must be wip'd off. If your aloes grow manifestly too dry, expose them a while to the air, when clear, 'twill immediately recover them ; but give them not a drop of water, how dry soever their pots be. House your choicest carnations, or rather set them under a penthouse against a South wall, so as a covering being thrown over them to pre- serve them in extremity of weather, they may yet enjoy the freer air at all other times. Prepare also matrasses, boxes, cases, pots, &c. for shelter to your tender plants and seedlings newly sown, if the weather prove very bitter. Plant roses, althea frutex, lalac, syringas, cytisus, pseonies, &c. Plant also fibrous roots specified in the precedent month. Sow also stony seeds mentioned in October. Plant all forest-trees for walks, avenues, and groves. Note, that you may transplant not only any fruit trees, but remove almost any of the foresters, even in the midst of summer, if taking the trees up with some mould about the roots, you immediately plunge them into earth made into a pap like mortar, keeping it fresh and under shade, and not suffering the ground quite to dry up and harden till rain comes down. Sweep and cleanse your garden walks, and all other places, from autumnal leaves, the last time. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Anemonies, meadow saffron, antirrhinum, stock -gilly-flowers, bellis clematis, pansies, some carnations, double violets, veronica, Spanish and indian jasmine, myrtles, musk rose, &c. 487 H DECEMBER Hath xxxi days —long, 7^ 40m. Sun rises 8n lom— sets 3I1 SO™. To be done in the Orchard and Olitory Garden. Prune and nail wall-fruit (which yet you may better defer a month or two longer), and standard trees that are hardy. You may now plant vines, &c. * Also stocks for graffing, &c. Sow, as yet, pomace of cideT-pressings to raise nurseries; and set all sorts of kernels, stones, &c. Sow for early beans and pease, but take heed of the frosts ; therefore surest to defer it till after Christmas, unless the winter promise very moderate. Expect no fresh sallet but from your hot-bed f. All this month you may continue to trench ground, and dung it, to be ready for borders, or the planting of fruit-trees, &c (See the note , in January.) Either late in this month or in January, prune and cut ofF all your vine shoots to the very root, save one or two of the stoutest, to be left with three or four eyes of yOung wood. This for the vineyard. Now feed your weak stocks. Turn and refresh your autumnal fruit, lest It taint, and open the windows where it lies, in a clear and serene day. Fruits in prime, or yet lasting. Apples.^ — Roiisseting, pippins, leather-coat, winter reed, chestnut apple, apis, fennel apple, great-belly, the go-no-further, or catshead, with some of the precedent month. Peahs. — -The squib pear, spindle pear, doyonere^ virgin, gascogne bergomot, scarlet pear, stopple pear, vergbules, portail, white, red, and french wardens (to bake or roast), the dead-man's, pear, excellent, &c. * See " Discourse of Earth/' pp. 14, 26. ' t See how to majke it, and to force asparagus, in M. de la Quintinye, vol. ii. part vi. pp. 169, 181. 488. To be done in the Parterre and Flower Garden. As in January, continue your hostility against vermine. Preserve from too much rain and frost your choicest anemonles, ranunculus's, carnations, &c. Be careful now to keep the doors, and windows of your conservatories well matted and guarded from th« piercing air; f^f your oranges, &c. are now put to the test. Temper the eoJd with a few charcoal, governed as direetefd in November ; but never accustom your plants to it, unless the utmost severity of the season require; therefore, if the pjlace be exquisitely close, they wiU even then ihardly require it. :Set bayberries, &c. dropping lipe. Look to your fountain-pipes, and cover them with fresh and warm littier out of the stable, a good thickness, lest the frosts crack them : remember it in time, and the advice m\\\ save you both itrouble and charge *. Flowers in prime, or yet lasting. Anemonies'(some), ipersiau and common wihiter cyclamen, antirrhi- num, black hellebore, laurus-tinus, single primroses, stock-giUy-flo. iris clusii, snow;flawers or drops,. yucca, &c. sFoKiby such a Kalendar it is that a Royal Garden or Plantation may be contrived according to my Lord Verulam's design, pro singulis anni mensihus, for every month of the year. But, because it is in this cold season that our gard'ner is chiefly diiigenfc'jabfiatt pr^erving his more tender, rare, exotic, and costly shrubs, plants, and; flowers, w^ have thought fit to add the Catalogue as it is (^much after this sort) collected to our hands, by tbejearned and industrious J>Qctor jSbajriiods. (thaa' with some refonnation and improve- meat) of all such as^ according to. their different natupes, do require more or 'ies;s indulgence. And: these we have distributed likewise into the ihrea foUowin^ classes. * This was one of the expensive and principal ornaments of the- pleasure-gardefls of Evelyn's dap, and we cannot but regret that it has so nearly disappeared in this country, since it might fre- quently be introduced so as to add to the charms of the grove, and to the benefit of the parterre. 489 » I. CliASSE. Beirtg hast patient of cold, and therefore to be first set into the , Conservatory, or other ways defended. Acacia aegyptiaca, aloe american. amaranthus tricolor, aspalathus cret. balsamum, helichryson, chamelsea tricoccos, nasturtium indicum, indian narcissus, ornithogalum arab. ind. phaseol. capsicum ind, pomum aethiop. aureum spinosum, summer sweet ibajoran, the two marums syriac, &c. dactyls, pistacio's, the great indian fig, lilac flo. alb. lavendula multif. clus. cistus ragusaeus flo. alb. colutea odorata, cretica, narcissus tuberosus, styrax arbor, &c. II. CLASSE. Enduring the second degree of Cold, and accordingly to he secured in the Conservatory. Amomum plinii, carob. chamela alpestris, cistus ledon. clus. citron, vernal cyclamen, summer purple cyclamen, digitalis, hispan. geranium triste, hedysarum clypeatum, aspalathus creticus, Spanish jasmine, virgin, jasmine, suza iris, jacobsea marina, alexandrian laurel, oleanders, limo- nium elegans, myrtles, oranges, lentiscus, levantine tufted narcissus, -gill. flo. and choicest carnations, phalangium creticum, asiatic double and single ranunculus's, narcissus of japan, cytisus rub. canna indica, thymus capitatus, verbena nodi flo. cretica, &c. III. CLASSE. TVhich, not perishing hut in excessive Colds, are therefore to he last set in, or rather protected under mattrasses, and slighter coverings, ahroad in the earth, cases, boxes, or pots, §"Themouths 2. The fire-hearth. J of both to be fitted with doors or plugs, for regulating of the heat. 3. The extremities of certain pipes, passing thorow the brickwork and furnace, and projecting both without and within the house. 4. The funnel or shaft applied to the wall without, which carries up both the smoke pf the fuel and ex- hausted air of the green-house, tho- row the air-pipe, &c. 5. The air ground-pipe, laid, the whole length of the green-house, in the middle of the floor, a little under the ground or pavement thereof, and 'reaching from end to end. 6. The hole, or opening at the end of the ground pipe, opposite to the stove end; which hole is to be left open, or govern'd with its register, to attemper the air, which entring by the furnace-pipes, circulates thro' this to the grate of the stove, and blowing the fire, issues out of the funnel. 7- The thermometer hanging over the nose of the ground-pipe, by which to govern the heat. F. Represents the whole stove, or furnace. a. The ash-hole. b. The fire-grate. c c c. The projection of the air-pipes which pass thorow the furnace and green-house end wall into the house. 494 d d. The air-pipes to be seen as tbey pass thro' the furnace, e. The funnel, or shaft. ff. Part of the end wall of the green-house, thorow which the air- pipes pass, and project their noses. ^i9^- Fig. 2. — E. Represents the furnace air-pipes, and how they are plac'd to pass thro' the fire and brickwork, with '^^the projecture of their noses, to take fresh air from with- out, and carry it into the house. a. The frame, or square of brickwork, on which they lie horizon- tally to receive the heat of the fire. b b b. The air-pipes. c c c. The noses of the pipes projecting beyond the brickwork both without and within. j^4 jTjQ 4 — Q Represents the ash. 1^^^ hearth. a. The ash-hole. b b. One of the ends of the floor- pipe, turning up, and inserted into the ash hearth, within a little of the grate. c c cc. The ground, or floor pipe, communicating with the inserted pipe b b. d d. The fire-grate. e. The register at the other end of the ground-pipe. Thus the fresh air entring perpetually thorow the heated earthen pipes into the conservatory, and as constantly circulating thorow the orifice of the floor pipe, will give continual supply of qualified air and nutrition to the plants, as far as concerns that element j and as they are placed nearer or farther from the noses of the stove-pipes, enjoy the several climates and 'degrees of warmth which shall be found most natural and agreeable to them. The best pipes, and only proper for this purpose, are such as are made of the best crucible-earth ; for should they be of the best cast iron, a too intense heat of seacoal or charcoal fire would indanger their melting. Let, therefore, the fire be rather constant than vehement. mm^^ 495 I doubt not but one single- pipe of competent bore would be as effectual as three or four, which should not be of above inch and half bore. Note, that any sort of fuel whatsoever may be used safely in this stove. I conclude all with a Catalogue of such excellent Fruit-trees, as may direct gentlemen to the choice of that which is good, and store sufficient for a moderate plantation. Species and curiosities being otherwise boundless, and without end. [^Note, that (M) signifies mural, or wall fruit ; (S) standard ; (D) dwarf.] Apples. — Kentish, russet, holland, golden (S), and golden russet pippin, pearmain, Loane's permain, hervy-apple, reinet flat (S_), deux- ans, or John, passe-pome, pome apis, cour pendue, calvile of all sorts golden mundi (excellent), July -flower, queen, marigold, winter queening, leather-coat, chesnut, kirkham, cats-head, juniting (red and white, first ripe), codling (Kentish, &c.) red strakes and genet moyle (cider). Peaks.— Bonne Chrestienne (M) summer and winter, bergamot (ordinary), bergamot de .busy, vergoleuse (excellent), poire a double fleure, windsor sovraigne, green-field, boeurie du roy, ambret, chessom, espine d'yever, petit muscat, petit blanquet, blanquet musque (S), orange bergamot, petit rouslet (excellent), cuisse madame, boudin mpsque, mouille en bouehe, brute e bonne, king pear^ lewes, bezy d'hery, rouslet de rhemes, vert longue, cussolet, rousslet carapagne, petit topin, messire jean, amadot, french king, jargonelle, st. andrew (D), ambrosia, vermilian, lunsac, elias rose, calliot rosat, swans egg, musque robin, golden de xaintonge, poire sans pepin, popering, rolling pear of lewes, madera, hampdens bergamot (S), norwich, Worcester, arundel, lewes warden (best without compare), dove, squib, stopple, deadmans (S), winter musque, chesil, Catherine (red, king), sugar, lording; red squash, bosbery, and watford (for perry). Quinces. — Portugal, brunswick, barbery. Peaches and Nectarins.— rAdmirable (M), alberge. Sir H. Capels, alberge (small yellow), almond violet, bourdin, belle cheuv- reuse, elrage nectarin (excellent), maudlin, mignon, inorella, musque 496 ' violet, murry nectarin, red roman nectarin, nutmeg (white, red), man peach, newington (excellent), persique, rambuUion, syoii (excellent), Orleans, savoy mala cotton, &c. Abricots.— Musk abricot, bishop of london, fulham (excellent) (M), orange, great bearer, or ordinary. PliUMS. — Perdrigon (white, blue), primordial, reine claud (S), and mirabel, white nutmeg (M), pear-plum (white, black), peasecod, prune de I'isle vert, damasq. violet date, Catharine, date (S) white, damazeene, damson (white, black), muscle, chessom, imperial, jane, saint Julian, queen-mother, morocco, bullas (white, black). Figs. — Scio (M) white and purple, blue (D), yellow, dwarf. Cherries. — Carnation (D), Hartlib, duke flander (S), and kentish, black cherry of Sir William Temple (M), black heart (true),' black Orleans, great bearer, duke, luke ward, morocco, prince royal, petworth amber, croone, bleeding heart, may cherry, begareux, egriot, guynnes, cluster, cologne, Darking wild cherry for wine, excellent. . ViNES.-r—Ambpise, frontinac (grizlin excellent, white excellent,. blue), burgundian grape, early blue, muscatell (black, white excellent), morillon, chasS^ela, cluster grape, parsley, raisin, bursarobe, burlet, corinth, large verjuice (excellent for sauces and salleting). Gooseberries. — Crystal, amber great, early red, englisb and great yellow. CoRiNTHS. — White and red (English, Dutch), black (medicinal). Raspis. — White and red (large), black (wild). MuLiBERRiES. — Black or red, white Virginia, for the silkworm. Berberries. — Great berberry, berberry, without stones. Strawberries. — Common wood, englisb garden, american or Vir- ginian, polonian, white coped, long red, the green strawberry, scar- let, &c. Medlars. — The great dutch, neapolitan, and one without stones. Services*. — Wild, pear sorb, azerole. * This fruit, which is a native of England, is now as little known, and as rare in the London market, as the fruits of the most distant parts of the world ; and the service-berry tree is now so thinly scattered over the country, that many farmers do not even know its existence. 497- Walnuts. — The early, great double, tender scull and hard, bird-nut. Filberts. — White and red avelans, large hasel, long, thin, and great round nuts. CoRNELiONS. — White, red, &c. Most of which, and innumerable more, dispers'd (for most part) after the several months in the foregoing Kalendar, were here recited for such as will be contented with a confin'd and choice furniture for their plantations. And such as would not be impos'd upon, will find the best ware and dealing at Brampton Park near Chelsey, cultivated by Mr. Wise, and the joint direction of that excellent gard'ner Mr. London, worthy of his royal title. ^ Letter from Sir Dudley Cullum * to John Evelyn, Esq. con- cerning the lately invented Stove for the Preservation of tender Plants and Trees in the Green-house during Winter ; formerly published in the Phil. Trans. Vol. xviii. No. 212. p. 191. Sir, I cannot but think my self oblig'd in gratitude to give you an account how well your lately invented Stove for a Green-house succeeds (by the experiment I have had of it), which certainly has more perfec- tion than ever yet art was before master of. Sir, I have pursu'd your directions in laying my pipes (made of crucible earth), not too near the * Eldest son of Sir Thomas Cullum, Bart, of Hawsted, co. Suffolk. He was educated at Bury school, from whence he removed to St. John's College, Cambridge in 1675. On the death of his father, he resided chiefly at his family seat, being remarkably fond of his garden, into which he introduced most of the curious exotics then known in England ; and speaks in particular, in 1694, of his orange-trees, which were then much less common here than at present, as thriving in the most luxuriant manner. His gi-een-house was 58 feet long, 14 feet wide, and 10 feet high. He corresponded with the philosophic gardener and planter, Mr. Evelyn, who directed his botani- cal pursuits, and whose stove for the preservation of green-house plants he adopted. He died without issue in 1720. See the Rev. Sir John CuUum's Hist, and Antiq. of Hawsted and Hardwick," 4to. 1813. 3s 498 fire-grate, which Is nigh lipon or better than sixteen Inches ; and by making a trench the whole length of my house, under the paving (for the air to Issue out and blow the fire), of a convenient breadth and depth (that Is, eighteen Inches both ways, cover'd with an arch of bricks), and at the other end of the trench, having a square Iron plate answerable to that of my paving (which is eighteen Inches), to take off and put on, with a round hole at the corner, of about three Inches diameter, with a lid to slide open and shut, upon every end of them, as you may have seen upon some porridge-pot covers; so that by opening any of these holes, or all of them, more or less, or taking off the whole plate, I can release such a quantity of air out of the house to blow the fire, so, as to Increase or diminish thp blasts; and, as you were pleas'd by letter to inform me concerning dlstrlbiitlng the air at its admission more equally thro' the houSe, I have Inserted my pipes Into a channel all along the wall, at the end of the house, with those several overtures you mention'd. All which. Sir, I assure you, prove most admirably well ; and by which free and generous communication of yours, you have most highly oblig'd all the lovers of this hortulan curiosity and recreation, as well as, Sir, Your most faithful and humble Servant, D. CXJLLUM, 499 DEDICATORY EPISTLE TO THE MYSTERY OF JESUITISM. The following dedicatory Epistle is attached to a presentation copy of the " Mysterion tou Anomias, or another Part of the Mystery" of Jesuitism," Lo'nd. 1664, 12mo. preserved in the British Museum, and to which the following manuscript note is prefixed on a fly-leaf, bv which Evelyn's connection with the work is suflBciently identified: " For my most honor'd friend the hon^|^ S-^ Hen. Herbert, from his most humble servant, J. Euelyn." To my most honour' d Friend from whom I received the Copy. Sir, — I transmit you here the French Copy which you were pleased to consign to me, and with it the best effects of your injunction that my weak talent was able to reach to ; but with a zeal so much the more propense, as I judged the publication might concern the world of those miserably- abused persons who resign themselves to the conduct of those bold impos- tors, and who may indeed be said to be what the Athenians mistook St. Paul for, Sivtav AatiJioviuv KuTuyyEXeTg, Setters forth 6f strange Gods*, as well as of strange and unheard-of doctrines, whilst they take upon them thus to attribute as much to Dominus Deus Papaf, their Lord God the Pope, as to God Almighty himself. I stand amaz'd that a Church which pre- tends so much to puritie, and that is so furious against the least dissenters to her novelties amongst Protestants, should suffer such swarms of impure insects amongst themselves ; lest these cancerous members (in- stead of edifying the Church and conducting consciences) eat out, in fine, the very heart and vitals of the common Christianity. For my part, after I have seen what Mr. White has lately publish'd J concern- ing the method of the Roman Court in her decrees, and of her rare * 17 Acts xviii, t Gloss, in Extr. Jo. c. 22. de verborum signif. J Extasis sive Tho. Albii Purgatio. / 500 ability to discern as he there afFords us the prospect, I have no great reason to hope for any redress of these enormities : and then to what a monstrous growth this head is like to arrive, let all the world com- pute by the strange pretences of these audacious sycophants. Nor let any man wonder how those other errors are crept into their religion, who in a day of so universal light permit such pernicious doctrines to be publickly asserted, to the dishonour of our B. Lord, the scandal of his beloved Spouse, and the hinderance of that glorious Unity, which none do more earnestly breathe after then he who subscribes himself, Sir, your most humblfe and most obedient Servant. 21 Sept. 1664. 1665. 2d Jan. This day was publish'd that part of "The Mysterie of Jesuitism*" translated and collected by me, tho' without my name, containing the imaginarie heresy, with 4 Letters, and other pieces. 25th Jan* This night being at Whitehall, his Ma*y came to me standing in the withdrawing roome, and gave me thanks for publishing "the Mysterie of Jesuitism," which he said he had carried two days in his pocket, read it, and encouraged me, at which I did not a little, wonder : 1 suppose Sir Robert Morray had given it to him. Sfee Memoirs, vol. I. pp. 354^ 355 ; and vol. II. p. 100. Also, 1 March, 1666, we find the following notice : Gave his Ma*y my book, intitl'd, "The pernicious Consequences of the new Heresy of the Jesuits against Kings and States." * In the library at Wotton there are three volumes, in duodecimo, upon this subject, uni- formly bound in morocco, viz. 1. "LesProvinciales, or the Mystery of Jesuitisme, discovered in certain Letters vfrritten upon occasion of the present difference at Sorbonne between the Jansenists and the Molinists, displaying the pernicious maxims of the late Casuists." Second Edition, 1658. 2. The volume to which the foregoing Dedication is affixed is entitled, " Mtirrnfiov tjj; 'Avo^jiaf that is. Another Part of the Mystery of Jesuitism, or the new Heresie of the Jesuites, publickly maintained at Paris, in the College of Clermont, the xii of December, 1661, declared to all the Bishops of France, 1664." In a Letter to Lord Cornbury, dated 9th Feb. 1664, Mr. Evelyn states ihat he undertook the translation of this second part, by command of his Lordship and his father, the Chancellor (Clarendon). 3. " The Mqral Practice of the Jesuites, demonstrated by many remarkable Histories of their Actions in all Parts of the World : collected either from books of the greatest authority, or most certain and unquestionable records and memorials.'" This volume was translated by Dr. Tongue for Mr. Evelyn, and was printed in 1670. PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT, AND AN ACTIVE LIFE, WITH ALL ITS APPANAGES, M>\icii ai $amt, CommatiD, ^ititt^, €on1aec^atitin, $c. PREFER' D TO SOLITUDE; IN REPLY TO A LATE INGENIOUS ESSAY OF A CONTRARY TITLE. By J. E. Esq. S.R.S. "AvBpiiinos S&ov voXiTixdv' Arist. 1. PoLIT. Excute istos, qui quae cupiere deplofant, et de earum rerum loqnuntur lagi quibus carere non possunt : videbis voluatariam esse illis in eo moram, quod segrfe ferre ipsos et tniser^ loquuntur. Sen, £p. xxii. LONDON: pniNTED BY J. M. FOR 11. HERRINGMAN, AT THE SIGN OF THE BLEW ANCHOR, IN THE LOWER WALK OF THE NEW EXCHANGE. 1667. The volume to which the following reprint is an answer, was the production of Sir. George Mackenzie, of Rosehaugh, King's Advocate for Scotland, whose numerous works were published with his life at Edinburgh in 1716 — 1722, in two volumes folio, and was entitled " a Moral Essay upon Solitude, preferring it to Publick Employment and all its Appendages, such as Fame, Command, Riches, Pleasures, Conversation, &c." Edinb. 1665, 8vo. reprinted in London 1685 and 1693, 12mo. 503 Notwithstanding the . asperity which is usually supposed to be attached to literary and philosophical disputes ; and although the ensuing Tract is not deficient of good-humoured and gentlemanly satire, yet the annexed Letters, now first printed from the originals in the Editor's possession, which passed between Sir George Mackenzie and his amiable opponent, shew how little of the spirit of angry dispu- tation was to be found within the breast of either. Sir George Mackenzie to John Evelyn. Sir, 5 Mart. I667. IflF yee had not bryb'd mee with too much compliment (wherby I am becom incapable to be a judge of these your abilities, which wer for- merlie too great to be subject to my censure), I had assur'd you that your book is rarely weel writ, and yet yee have shew'd more kyndnesse to morall philosophie, In Introducing this civill way of replying, then I have in pleading for these recesses to which philosophie is so oblidg'd. It is strange for ane opposit to shew no passion bot that of kyndnesse, and yee compliment mee to such ane excesse beyond my merit, that I begin to be jealouse that yee magnifie mee only to shew how easilie yee canne vanquish such as deserve praise, and that yee thus attire mee in these titles as the Romans did ther prisoners with riche robbes, that therby they might adorne so much the more these ther triumphs, to which they were destinat as trophees. But, Sir, without enquyring too superstitluslie into your designs, I shall resolve to returne you no other answer besyds this ; and to evidence how much I am prbselited by your booke, I resolve to continue in employment, but I hope not so longe as I shall in the resolution of bearing the name and inclinations of Deare Sir, Your most humble Servant, Geo. Mackenzie. For my honoured friend Master Eveline. Thus endorsed by J. Evelyn : " S' Geo. Mackenzie, 5 Mar. I667, Edenburg, vpon my reply to his booke." 504 J. Evelyn's Anstver. I had often repented me of the faults you have forgiuen, that is, of my whole booke, 'til this most ciuil lett', which I now receiu'd from you by the favour of S' R. Muray : because I find, but for that attempt, I had not receiv'd the honour you have don me, by the notice you are pleased to take of y' servant, nor ben so fully assur'd that my hand did not erre, when to describe y"" character it assembled all those perfections which make up a consum'ate vertue. S% upon y"^ acc'pt, I do justifie a victory, and a triumph too, w* no vulgar ambition : but it is to see the acc|uisition I have made, and to assure you that I will use it with all the modesty and deference which becomes me to a person so infinitely obliging as you are to, S% Y-,&c, , ' ' . Land. 15 Mar. ^ ^v^ly^. 7. 505 TO THE HON. SIR RICHARD BROWNE, Kt. and Bart. LATE RESIDENT AT "THE COURT OF FRANCE FOR THEIR MAJESTIES OF GREAT BRITAIN, CHARLES I. AND II., GENTLEMAN OF THE PRIVY-CHAMBER, AND ONE OF THE CLERKS OF HIS MAJESTIES MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY-COUNCIL, MY MOST HONOURED FATHER-IN-LAW. Sir, I AM bold to present this liberal discourse with the greater confidence to you, becausej you alone being witness with how little application I have been able to frame it (importuned as I was by several avocations'), it may with the better grace presume upon your indulgence ; there is this only which I have infinite cause to regret, that the tenuity of the oblation bears so little proportion to the duty, and the service which I owe you ; but, though I might happily have oppressed you with a larger volume, I could not with a more illustrious and becoming argu- ment ; nor indeed, made choice of a fitter arbiter than yourself to deter- mine- between us, who have passed so much of your time in the public service of your Prince and Country, and in a period when a less steady virtue must have succumbed under your temptations. With what fide- lity and success you discharged that Ministry, and how honourably you supported the change during the nineteen years space of your honour- able character abroad, I leave others to report, and to the great and most illustrious persons of this nation, whose loyalties mingle their glori- ous misfortunes with yours : I say nothing of your hospitality, and of the civility of your house, which cannot but be gratefully recounted by as many as have made any stay at Paris, and that shall consider the circumstances of those lessning times : and your modesty since your Royal Master's most signal Restauration, has made it appear, that you served him without designe, as esteeming your whole fortune a sacrifice too cheap, to preserve the dignity of a charge in which his Majesties 3t 506 reputation was concerned. I might here mention the constant asylum whiqh the persecuted Clergy found within your walls upon all occasions, because I have seen the instances, and have heard them frequently ac- knowledged both to yourself, and to your most excellent lady, when your Chappel was the Church of England in her most glorious estate, at least in the account of Heaven ; for she was then the most perse- cuted Church in the world ; but this is already recorded by better * pens. Shall I descend to your other noble and more personal qualifications ? That amidst your busie employments for the concern of States, and the interest of Kingdomes, you still held correspondence with the Muses, and conversation w"" letters; so as what others know but at a great distance, and by reflection only, you derive from the fountaines them- selves, and have beheld what has pass'd in thfe world from the very summit of Olympus: thus Xenophon, Thycidides, Bolybius, Caesar, and Taci- tus, conceal nothing from you who are a critic both in the Greek and the Latine tongues, as well as in all the modern languages : to these I might add the sweetness and comity f of your disposition, the te(iiper of your customes, the sedatenesse of your mind, your infinite contempt of vanity and gilded appearances ; and, in short, all those perfections which are the result of a consunimate experience, a prudent and just estimation of th^ vicissitude of things : but I am first to beg' pardon for this attempt on your modesty, or rather indeed for this imperfect description of your virtues: but, Sir, I pretend not to oblige you by your character, but the * Sir, the benediction the Doctor gives to you and yours, in allusion to that which issued from the Ark to Obed. Edoms house, I have a particular obligation to sufFrage in, &c. ' The publick exercise of our Liturgy, is the antitype we reflect upon, which, by God's singular indulgence to you, hath, when chaced out of the Temple took refuge in your house j so that we have been forced many times to argue from your oratory for a visibility of our Church ; your easie admission of me to oiliciate in it for some moneths, and your endeavours to have such an esta- blishment for me, as whereby, in the most difficult of times, I might have had a comfortable sub- sistence, and a safe protection under your sacred roof, beside the other graces and civilities I had from you, exact this open retribution of my thanks, &c. to you, whose name and memory must be ever venerable to the English Clergy, as your person hath been most obliging to many pf us, &c. See.Richard Watson, in his Epist. Dedicat. before Dr. Basiers Treatise of the Antient Liberty of the Britannick Church, and exemption thereof from the Roman Patriarchate, &c. Printed Lend. 1661. ■ t Courtesy, civility, good breeding, from the Latin comi