Volume 1816
Georges Dodds'
The Ape-Man: his Kith and Kin
A collection of texts which prepared the advent of Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs
Presents
http://www.erbzine.com/mag18/critick.htm
In part a retelling of Hayy Ibn Yaqzan by Ibn Tufail (mostly the first Crisis), but mainly a contrast of primitive life and civilisation. Feral infant on island. Thought to be an inspiration for Defoe's Robinson Crusoe
| The Epistle dedicatory | |
| The translator to the reader | |
| The First Crisis. | Critilo being shipwrecked, meets with Andrenio, who renders a strange account of himself. |
| The Second Crisis. | The Grand Theatre of the Universe. |
| The Third Crisis. | Nature's Comeliness. |
| The Fourth Crisis. | The Destroyer of Life. |
| The Fifth Crisis. | The Entrance into this World |
| The Sixth Crisis. | The Estate and Condition of this Age |
| The Seventh Crisis. | The Origin of Errors, and Deceit |
| The Eighth Crisis. | The Miracles of Artemia |
| The Ninth Crisis. | The Moral Anatomy of Man |
| The Tenth Crisis. | The Dangerous Passage for Robberies |
| The Eleventh Crisis. | The Dangerous Gulf of the Court |
| The Twelfth Crisis. | The Charms of False Sirens |
| The Thirteenth Crisis. | General Fair of the World |
| The Conclusion. | Being the Universal Reformation |
The Critick
The Epistle dedicatory
May it please your most To the KING.
excellent majesty,This little treatise, which was written in my youth, was the first fruits of my travels, and ought to have been offered in the years of my minority, when perhaps it had looked much more like myself than it does at present: but because the words only are mine, and the sense and scope the thoughts and contrivance of a serious don; the subject will be liable to no other incongruity, than that which is now common in the world, where we see men of years and gravity dressed in the hair and fashion of the youthful. But be the attire what it will, I am sure the subject, which is morality, giving rules for a virtuous and prudent life, is seasonable in all ages; and much more conducing to the common good of your majesties' kingdoms, than the swarms of libels, and seditious pamphlets, which fill the press; and are the entertainments of men who are wanton and at ease. It is want of true morality which makes men censurers of others actions, neglecting in the meantime to pry into their own: It makes them proud, high-minded, and boasters, and gives them confidence to arraign princes, and their cabinet counsels of government; whilst in the mean time they are so far from ruling their own little world within them, that they are not able to subdue a passion, or moderate that little, or untowardly member of their tongue. But our CRITICK, which suggests better things, does with that humility which he teaches, appear before your majesty, being conducted to your royal presence by the interpreter, who having received encouragement by the gracious eye, your majesty has been pleased to bestow on his other writings, does with greater boldness, and yet with due reverence, tender this at your royal feet, praying always for the long life of your sacred majesty, in which the peace, prosperity, and welfare of your people is bound up; and that God Almighty may ever bless your majesty with increase of honour, triumph, and greater exaltation of glory, are the unfeigned, and fervent prayers of,
most dread sovereign,
your MAJESTY'S
most dutiful subject, and
most humble servant,
PAUL RYCAUT.
When I was about the age of twenty, of which I had spent five in the University of Cambridge, my good father, who was desirous to bestow on me a liberal education (though the youngest of his ten sons) and to improve me in all the languages which are common to Europe, thought fit to send me to the Court of Spain in company with my eldest brother, whose principal business there was to recover a debt of one hundred thousand pieces of eight, which his Catholic majesty owed unto my father: The demand was unquestionable, for the account was liquid, and clearly stated by the Council of the exchequer, and the King upon their report, was pleased to give his own royal firm for confirmation of it, and to make several decrees for the payment; but as the proceedings in Spain are always dilatory, and the King's revenue most commonly anticipated, so our private pretensions were forced to give place to the more importunate necessities of the public, and after a year and half's solicitation, we were dispatched thance with a poor Auyda de costas, or something under the name of a largess, to bear our expenses, paid in vellion, or the base copper money of Spain. Since which the interest has increased without either payment of it, or of the principal, though our King of Great Britain (whom God preserve) has been graciously pleased often to recommend our case to his ambassadors sent to Madrid, and to make it one particular in their Instructions: but all this being without effect, gave me often cause to conclude, that it was much better, and of more Security to have a mortgage on good Farms and Tenements in England, than of honour to be a creditor of the most mighty and Potent monarch of both the Indies. The
TRANSLATOR
TO THE
Reader.But I, who in the gaiety of my youth, little regarded the interest of wealth, leaving that care to the incumbence of my pious parents, attended wholly to the improvements of my mind; and to that end, not to lose time, I studied awhile at Alcala de Henares, called in Latin, Collegium Complusense, where I had the honour to be esteemed more for my skill in the Latin tongue, and my faculty in poetry, than ever I had a reputation for in my own university; I there applied myself especially to learn the Spanish tongue, in gaining of which I had something more than an ordinary advantage, by having no conversation with English; and than this book of the Critick being newly published and recommended to me for being wrote by one of the best wits and pens of Spain; I was easily persuaded to read it over; the style being smooth and pleasant in the beginning, gave me an easy introduction to it; but the remainder being more harsh, and crabbed, I forced myself with some difficulty to understand the sense and humour of the author, fancying in the mean time, that I was entered into those steep and thorny ways of virtue, which Critilo teaches, and from which no difficulties ought to divert, or discourage a wise and a resolved person. When I had once read it, I was so pleased with the subject, that I was willing to try how it would run in English; which being finished, I was infinitely pleased with the work, both for the argument, which is virtue, & morality, and for my own improvement by the translation; for it had almost made me a master of the Spanish tongue. Howsoever, as our greatest enjoyments, and things which please our minds most at first, grow dull, and disrelishing with time; so these beloved papers were neglected, and thrown by me whilst I had occasion to travel the world; for I was afterwards in Italy, and there I embarked on the fleet under command of General Blake, and was present at the burning of nine Turkish ships, and battering the castles at Porta Farina, near Tunis; I also spent about two years in the Low Countries, when his majesty resided at Brussels; after which having the employment of Secretary to the Earl of Winchilsea at Constantinople for seven years, and subsequent to that of consul at Smyrna, for the space of eleven more, I was so taken up with the thoughts and business of that country, that I had no leisure to remember, or reflect upon my little Critick. But now, being by God's providence returned to a more quiet, and reposed life in my own country, and tumbling one day over my old memoirs, these papers casually offered themselves to my hands, torn and worm-eaten with bad ink, and in every manner ill- treated. When I saw them, I presently knew and owned them, recalling them to my mind and acquaintance, and with much eagerness and delight I read them over, because they lively represented to my memory and fancy the verdures of my youth, which I found to be over affectionate to words, and romantic expressions; howsoever I observed, that I kept close to the sense, and that I was as faithful even in those years to the author whom I translated, as I was to the charge, and interest which I afterwards undertook. And though in my late perusal of this book, I have suffered it to pass with little alteration, that so it might appear more like to a product of my youth; yet having now ruminated with more serious, and mature reflections, on the subject of its discourse, than I was capable to do formerly, my judgment tells me that this treatise is neither misbecoming my present years, nor unseasonable to the present times. It begins like a Spanish novel, placing the scene of discourse in the ocean, and in the Isle of St. Helen, where a man is strangely figured to have been enclosed in the darkness of a cave, and fed by beasts, until he arrived to some maturity of age; which is purposely designed to introduce the notions, which a man may by the mere light of his immaterial soul, without sight, or conversation, conceive of a deity, and of his own being. Than he fancies, a whirl-wind or hurricane to break open the cavern of this natural man, and all on a sudden to represent a new scene to him of Heaven, and Earth, and sea; and than he strives to express the ecstasies of his soul, and the strange conceptions he must entertain upon the view of such different objects: Thance he descends from the natural to the moral world, drawing a scheme of the follies and vanities of it, in order to a true regulation of life, built on the foundation of morality, and virtue. I am of opinion, that the author of this book might originally have deduced his fancy from the History of Hai Ebn Yokdhan, wrote in Arabic by Ebn Tophail, and translated into Latin by Dr. Pocock; and though there is much difference in the relation of one, and the other, yet the design of both is almost the same, being only to show how far the spiritual and immortal soul of man, is able in its natural capacity, and by its own reflex acts to consider its proper being, and the existence of something above it; and by degrees, and steps of exterior objects to proceed unto rules for conservation of its own well-being, and that of others. The subject of this fancy being much affected and enlarged by Arabians, it is probable that from them it was derived to the moors, who have the same language with little diversity of dialect, and accent common together: and the Spaniards, who for the space of 600 years had the same country and manners with moors, easily received their fashions, learning, proverbs, and every thing but their religion: So that as their customs and way of living are different to other nations of Europe, and most resemble that of the eastern countries; so their way of writing in dialogues and novels is much after that manner, and is as well pleasant and diverting in itself, as it is curious to us, who follow another form, and manner in all our books, and treatises of philosophy. And thus, reader, having given thee some intimation concerning the substance of this book; the occasion on which it was translated; and the reasons, why after so many years, it came to be published. I leave thee to a perusal of it, which I beseech thee to do, with the same candour, which is to be allowed to the works of youthful fancies. Farewell.
The Spanish Critick:
The Spring of Childhood, and the
Summer of Youth.
The First Crisis
Now both worlds had kissed the feet of Catholic Philip their universal monarch: and the circle of his royal crown, the greatest stage the sun runs both in the one and the other hemisphere: within whose crystalline centre lies enamelled a small isle, or pearl of the sea, or emerald of the land: to which the august empress gave it her own name, that it might be queen of all other isles, and crown of the ocean. This isle of St. Helena (for so it is called) in the passage from one world to the other, yields refreshment to the grand cargason of Europe, and has always been a free-port, preserved by divine providence between those immense gulfs to afford entertainment for the Eastern Catholic Fleet.
To this place a shipwrecked person endeavoured to make his port, who striving with the waves, and contending with the winds, but more with his own sad disasters, a monster of Nature, and of fortune, a swan in his hoariness, and voice, sinking on his plank, between the fatal medium of life, and death, thus complained.
"O Life! thou shouldst never have begun, but since thou hast, thou shouldst never end: there is nothing more desired, nor yet nothing more frail, than thou art, and he, who once looseth thee, too late seeks to recover thee; for ever after I esteem thee for lost: Nature has showed herself a step-mother to man, denying him a sense to rejoice at his birth, and yet to fill him with sad apprehensions at his death: to make him insensible of the good he receives at his beginning, and yet to affright and torment him with a combination of mischiefs at his end. O tyrant! a thousand times more cruel than humane Nature is capable to be, who first through a scandalous temerity trusted his life to this inconstant element on no better support than a frail vessel; They say his breast was covered with steel, but I think it was doubled with iron. In vain has the supreme providence separated nations with seas and mountains, since human boldness has found a bridge to transport its malice. Whatsoever humane industry has invented, has been unfortunately retorted to its own destruction. Gun- powder, that horrible devourer of lives, has been an instrument of greatest ruin; and what other is a ship, but a coffin to anticipate the solemnities of death. The land seemed too narrow a theatre to act the tragedies of death, until man found ways to triumph on the seas, and find a passage to his fatal destiny through both elements. By what other means needs unfortunate man seek to perish, than in the hull of his own ship, which like a scaffold seems erected for punishment of his boldness: With Reason did Cato esteem amongst the three Follies of his Life, his embarking to have been the greatest. O fate! O heavens! O fortune! though I would persuade myself that I were something, yet so dost thou pursue me, that when thou beginnest, thou knowest no end but mine. O! that now it were possible for me to be nothing, that I might disclaim that being, which is confined with eternity."
In this manner he beat the air with sighs, whilst his arms rowed the waters, accompanying his art with industry, he seemed to rise above the reach of danger; for perils do both fear and respect great persons, whom death itself is sometimes ambitious to spare, and fortune seeks occasions to advantage. Thus the serpents spared Alcides, the tempests Caesar, the sword great Alexander, and bullets had no commission for Charles the Fifth. But alas! how misfortunes are enwreathed, one is but the introduction, or but the parent to another; for when he thought to reach the secure bosom of our common mothers, he than began to apprehend new fears, lest the enraged waves should dash him against the rocks, which were as hard, as his fortune was cruel; the earth too caught at by his hands, crumbled between them, and tantalized his hopes, when his life seemed almost secured; there being neither water in the seas, nor earth on the land, to assist the miserable. Thus floated he between both elements, in the medium between life, and death, made a sacrifice of his own fortune: when a sprightly youth, an angel in his appearance, but much more in his actions, stretched forth his arms to enclose him, attracting him as the secret virtue of the loadstone does the iron, and securing his happiness together with his life: and being now in safety on the shore, he first kissed the earth, and casting his eyes up to heaven, he gave thanks for his deliverance; and than returning to the restorer of his life, with open arms, endeavoured to gratify him with embraces, and acknowledgments; but he, that had thus obliged him by deeds, could not answer him with words, but only gave demonstrations of the grand satisfaction he received at this accident, and of an astonished admiration, to see one so like himself. The grateful naufrague repeated the expressions of his thanks, and seconded his embraces, asking him of his health and fortune; to all which the astonished islander was silent; wherefore he varied his idioms, and tried him with some other languages, with which he was acquainted; but in vain, since he was a person void of speech; so that turning all into signs and actions, he ceased not to behold, and admire him, mixing the extremes of wonder with contentment. One might reasonably have believed him to have been some incult product of those woods, but that this island being uninhabited by mankind, could not be the native soil of human race; besides the fairness and length of his hair, and the equal proportion of his mouth, was an argument that he was an European; the fashion of his clothes, or garments, could yield no light to any conjectures, being no other than nakedness the livery of innocence. The intelligent naufrague reasoned with himself, whether he was destitute of those two servants of the soul, hearing, and speech; but his experience soon revolved him in that, for he listened to the least noise, and by his ready attention could so aptly imitate the voices of beasts, and chirping of birds, with such natural propriety, that he seemed better to understand brutes than men, so prevalent is the force of custom, and education. From these sensitive actions the vivacity of his spirit darted forth certain rays, as through the twilight of reason, the soul labouring to show, that where education is wanting, Nature of itself is wholly rude and unpolished.
The desire of knowing each others fortunes, and lives, increased equally in both; but the want of a common idiom, was that which envied them this enjoyment; for speech is the grand effect of rationality, and he that cannot discourse, cannot converse. "Speak," saith the Philosopher, "that I may know you;" for the soul does in a noble manner communicate itself, by producing the images of what it conceives in the mind of him that hears, which is properly to converse: there is no presence where there is not discourse, nor can they be termed absent, who communicate by writing. Those wise sages live still, though dead, and discourse with us daily by their immortal volumes, and illuminate posterity with a continued source, and spring of knowledge. Speech is both necessary, and pleasant, which two, wise Nature always conjoined in the functions of life: conversation is ever attended with pleasure, and thance is immediately derived the important affair of knowing, which speech only can administer. Wise men by speaking beget others like themselves, and by converse knowledge is gently instilled into the soul. Hence it is, that men cannot live happily without some common language, both in respect of their necessity, and of their pleasure. For should two infants be cast purposely into an island, they would invent a language to communicate, and converse with each other; so that noble conversation is the daughter of discourse, the mother of wisdom, the ease of the soul, the commerce of hearts, the bond of amity, the food of contentment, and the employment of humanity.
The experienced naufrague being well assured of the truth hereof, began immediately to teach this ignorant youth to exercise speech, who being both desirous and docible, was very apt to improve the flexibility of his tongue: He began by the names of them both, calling himself Critilo, and the other Andrenio, which fitted the ripe judgment of the one, and of the other, in his natural principles. The desire of bringing those conceptions unto light, which had so long inwardly been suppressed, and the curiosity of knowing the truth of what lay clouded, and confused: in his understanding, were strong incitements to the docility of Andrenio: so that now he began to pronounce, than to ask, than to answer, and endeavouring at length to discourse, accompanied his words with action, that sometimes where his words began, his gestures supplied the want of other expressions in the conclusion. The account he gave of his life, was in short and abrupt speeches, so much the more strange, by how much the less understood; and oftentimes, where the improbability of the matter could not gain belief with Critilo, there he pretended to want a true conception of what he related; but when he had learned to continue his discourse, and the number of his words were equal to the greatness of his thoughts, at the earnest desires of Critilo, who afforded him also somewhat of his assistance, began to satisfy him in this manner.
"I," saith he, "neither know who I am, nor who has given me this being, nor to what end he has given it me: which question I often, without words proposed to myself, being as ignorant, as curious; but since queries are caused by ignorance, I had little means to resolve myself: yet so would I prove myself with argument, that I might, if possible, exceed myself; for as yet no affectation to any particular good had so possessed me, but that withdrawing my soul out of ignorance, I might reach the limits of my desires. Thou, Critilo askest who I am, and I desire to know that of thee; for thou art the first man that until this day I have seen, in whom I find myself more perfectly delineated, than in the silent crystals of a fountain, which oftimes my curiosity carried me unto, and my ignorance applauded; but if you would be informed of the most material success of my life, I shall relate that to you, which is more strange than long, or tedious."
"The first time that I could take knowledge of myself, and form conceptions of my being, I found myself immured within the bowels of that mountain, which though it hangs out beyond the rest, yet its height asserts its honour and eminency above the other rocks. There it was that I received my first nourishment from one of those which you call brutes, but I call mother, believing myself to have been born from her, and that she had given me the being I am endued with."
"It is very agreeable," replied Critilo, "to natural ignorance to style men fathers, and women mothers, from whom we receive beneficence, in which manner, until now, you esteemed a beast for such; so the world in its infancy called every creature which was profitable, and beneficial, by the name of father, and at length improved that to the title of God."
"So I," proceeded Andrenio, "believed that beast to be my mother, which nourished me at her breasts, and bred me up amongst her young ones, which I esteemed for my brethren, and as a brute amongst the brutes, we played and slept together. She often gave me milk from her own teats, shared me part of her fruits, and prey which she brought for them. At first I was not so sensible of that tedious imprisonment, whilst the interior darkness of my mind accorded with the exterior of my body; and the want of knowledge alleviated the deprivation of light, though some confused glimmerings appeared, which Heaven dispensed at times, through the top of that unhappy cavern."
"But at length arriving at a certain term of growth and life, I was on a sudden surprised with such an extraordinary force of knowledge, with so bright a radiancy of light, and advertency, that I began to make several reflexions upon my own proper being. 'What is this,' said I? 'am I, or am I not? for since I live, and know, and observe, I must have a being: but if I am, who am I? and who has given me this being? And to what end has he given it me? If it be to remain here, it were a high infelicity! Am I a brute like these? No, for I observe most apparent differences between us; for they are covered with hair, but I, as less favoured of him, who gave me this being, am naked, and unclothed; besides, I observed my whole body otherwise proportioned than theirs; I laugh, and weep, they howl, and cry. I walk strait, raising my face upwards, when they move bending with their heads towards the earth.' These were palpable differences, and which observation administered to my understanding. my desire to come out from hence increased daily, and the endeavours to see, and know, as they are natural to every one, so they were in me more than ordinarily violent, and impatient; but that which troubled me most, was to see the brutes my companions, with a strange nimbleness to trip over the indigested heaps, entering out, and returning in at their own pleasure; which I not being able to do, was soon sensible, that that privilege and liberty was denied only unto me."
"I assayed often times to follow those beasts, and crawl over the rocks after them, which I appayed with the blood, that started from my fingers; and I would have helped myself likewise with my teeth, but all in vain, and to my prejudice; for I commonly tumbled to the next bottom, which I left wetted with my blood, and tears: at my voice and cries the compassionate beasts came running to my succour, and dividing me a share of their fruits, and prey, moderated my grief, and in part eased me of my discontent. The want of my outward speech was supplied by my inward thoughts, and soliloquies, and the doubts, and difficulties my observation and curiosity encountered, not being capable of being resolved by my judgment, ended in wonder and admiration; but the confused noise of these seas, was a subject of my continued trouble, whose waves beat more violently against my breast, than these rocks; but what should I think of those affrighting claps of thunder, those encounters in the air, whose clouds dissolved into rain, as my eyes into tears? But that which reduced me from a perplexity of mind, and pangs of soul even to the very agonies of death, were certain voices which I heard from without, somewhat like yours, which at a distance seemed more confused, but afterwards came by little and little more distinct and articulate, which so naturally affected me, that they left me not without strong impressions in my mind. I well observed the difference of them from those of beasts, and from the usual sounds with which I was formerly acquainted, which begot in me a vehement passion, to see, and know from whence they proceeded; but being not able to attain thereunto, I languished in the extremes of despair, and death; and though there were but few things into which I could dive with my thoughts, yet I have neither wanted of them discourse, nor meditation: one thing I can assure you, that I have often, and a thousand times entertained thoughts of the manner and disposition, situation, variety, and composure of these things according to the meanness of my capacity, yet never could attain to the least apprehension of the manner, and order of this various composition, which we now see, and admire."
"This is not much," answered Critilo, for if the wits of all those men, which have been, or shall be hereafter, should unite in one, to trace the artifice of this world's composure, and to consider of its government, their consultations would come short of that providence, which is required in its direction. But why do I instance in the universe? since their art reaches not to the formation of the least flower, or fly; only that supreme creator has found a way, and order to make a harmony in beauty and changeable Variety."
"But tell me, that which I so greatly desire to know, and hear from you, in what manner you came forth from that tedious prison, that untimely grave of your habitation, but especially (if it be possible for you to express) what thoughts, and notions, your admirable spirit conceived, at your first entrance into light, when you discovered, saw and admired the applauded theatre of the universe."
"Hold," said Andrenio, "I had here need to take breath to prosecute a relation so strange and pleasant.
The Second Crisis
They say, that as soon as the supreme artificer had accomplished the composure of the worlds fabric; his next work was to dispose unto every one his order, and apart all kinds in their several and most natural stations. So he summoned all creatures from the elephant to the fly, and showing them the several distinct regions, and elements, left the choice of all to their free and voluntary election. The elephant answered, that he would content himself with a wood, the horse with a meadow, the eagle with one of the regions of the air, the whale in the ocean, the swan in a fishpond, the barbel in the river, and the frog in a pool. The last of all came man, though the first in dignity, who to the question propounded, answered, that he could not content himself with less than all, and that too seemed but little for his enlarged desires. This exorbitant ambition struck no small wonder to those present, though it was soon applauded by a flattering sycophant, as a demand agreeable to the greatness of his mind; though by one with better judgment termed the defect of his depraved corporeal composition. The superficies of this globe seemed too narrow a confinement for his enlarged desires, until in quest of gold, and silver, he found a way to undermine, and rip up the bowels of the Earth. His pride makes him climb to possess the air by the lofty pinnacles of his edifices, lest his ambition should be suffocated, and stifled in the lower region. He compasses the seas, sounds the ocean, dives for pearls, amber, and coral to nourish his folly, and swell his vanity. He taxes each element according to its quality to pay him tribute, the air her birds, the sea her fish, the Earth her beasts, the fire its heat, to entertain, not to satisfy his luxury. And yet, as if all this were insufficient, nothing can appease his complaints of a penurious portion. O monstrous covetousness of man! The supreme creator took him by the hand, "See," said he, "and know, that I have formed man by my own hands, for my servant, and your lord, and like a king, as he is, pretends to govern all. But understand, O man, that this is to be with your mind, and not with your belly, as a man, not as a beast. You ought to be lord of all creatures, and not a slave to them, they ought to follow you, and not you attracted by them. You ought to possess all with knowledge, and acknowledgement, that is contemplating in all these created mirrors the divine perfections, making a step of the creature to pass unto the creator." This relation of prodigies, though a lesson amongst us common to the meanest and most vulgar capacities, was yet strange, and unheard of to Andrenio, who recovering himself from his deep contemplations thereon, and passionate aspirations towards the divine essence, began to proceed in this manner.
"my sleep," said he, prosecuting his former discourse, "was the ordinary pastime of my hours, and the chiefest ease of my melancholy, and solitariness: to that I inclined as a remedy of my discontent, when one night (for all to me were such) a more than ordinary deadness of sleep possessed me, an infallible presager of evil; and so it was, for startling from my slumber, awakened by the vehemency of a gust, burst from the deepest caverns of yonder mountain, which shook the whole fabric, and firm pillars which support it; and whistling through the breach it made, diffused itself into a general tempest with so much rage and violence, as to shake the foundation of the neighbouring rocks, as if its force had been sufficient to have shattered this grand machine into their first nothing."
"Hold," said Critilo, "the mountains themselves are not exempted from change, but exposed to earthquakes, and thunder, their power of resistance being the cause of their subversion."
"But if these Rocks shook," said Andrenio, "what should I? All the joints of my body seemed to be loosed, and dissolved, my heart ready to break with throbs, my senses failed me, that I found myself half dead, and almost buried between the rocks and my own fears; whilst this eclipse of my soul remained, the parenthesis of my life, neither can I know, nor can any other inform me concerning it, at length, I know not how, nor when, I returned by little and little to recover myself from this total dereliction of my spirits; I unclosed my eyes to the dawnings of the day, a day clear, great, and happiest that ever my life has seen, a day which I have noted on the stones and engraved on the rocks. I instantly perceived the doors of my tedious prison broke open, a comfort so transporting me, that I delayed no time to unbury myself, and as one new-born in the world, to leap into it, through that gap, in which appeared the rays, and light of the cheerful heaven: at first, not fully satisfied of the reality, I went round the rock, still suppressing with what power I could the strong rebulliency of my passions: but at length, well assured, I returned to the confused balcony of my life, and prospect, diffusing my eyes in a general view over this grand theatre of heaven and Earth: the whole vigour of my soul applying itself to the windows of my eyes with that contentment, and curiosity, that it disabled the rest of my senses to perform their function, that for a whole day I remained immoveable, insensible, and dead, being overwhelmed by over-powering of too strong a life. I would here express, but it is impossible, the intense violence of my affections, the extravagant raptures of my soul; I can only tell you, that there still remain impressions thereof upon me; and the wonder, and amazement I than conceived, are not so clearly forgotten, but that the sense thereof, do strongly affect me."
"I believe," said Critilo, "that when the eyes see what they never espied, the heart feels, what it was never sensible of."
"I beheld," proceeded Andrenio, "the sea, the land, the heaven, and each severally, and altogether, and in the view of each I transported myself without thoughts of ever ending, admiring, enjoying, and contemplating a fruition which could never satiate me."
"O! How much I envy thee," said Critilo, this unknown happiness of thine, the only privilege of the first man, and you, the faculty of seeing all at once, and that with observation, the greatness, beauty, harmony, stability, and variety of this created fabric. Familiarity in us takes off admiration, and novelty affects little those, who have neither knowledge, nor advertency to enjoy it. For we enter into the world with the eyes of our understanding shut, and when we open them unto knowledge the custom of seeing has rendered the greatest wonders, neither strange, nor admired at the judgment's disclosure. Therefore the wise worthies have repaired much of this defect by reflections, looking back again as it were to a new birth, making everything, by a search and examination into its nature, a new subject of astonishment; admiring, and criticizing on their perfections. Like those, who walk in a delicious garden, diverted solely with their own thoughts, not observing at first the artificial adornments, and variety of flowers; yet afterwards return back to view each plant, and flower with great curiosity: So we enter into this garden of the universe walking from our birth, until our death, without the least glance on the beauty, and perfection of it: unless some wiser heads chance to turn back, and renew their pleasure by a review, and contemplation."
This Andrenio considered to be his greatest happiness, in that he arrived to that height of perfection, which he had so long expected and desired.
"Your happiness," said Critilo, "was your restraint, since afterwards you knocked off your bolts, and arrived at a full fruition both of your own desire, and them; for things that are worth our wishes, and obtained, are twice enjoyed: the greatest wonders, if familiar, and common, soon loose their repute, and an easy access, and a free use makes but a toy of the greatest prodigy; The sun has done us a courtesy in absenting himself at night, that his return may be the more grateful in the morning. What a conjunction of affections must you needs feel? What over-flowings of your senses? How must your soul have been ravished, and employed in its attention on those objects? 'Twas much, you were not over- bourn with a contemplation so violent, and admirable."
"I believe," answered Andrenio, "that whilst my attention was busied in seeing, and observing, it was so fixed on the present object, that it found no force nor power to communicate unto another. But those cheerful emanations of the grand-monarch of light, which you call the sun, crowned with his own beams, and encircled with rays, stroke an awfulness to eyes to render him the reverence, and admiration: at the glory of his throne, at the sovereignty and silence of his majesty, which triumphs in the crystalline waves, and fills all creatures with his bright presence; I was wholly swallowed up in amazement, envying the eagle should be more intent, than myself."
At his naming the sun, Critilo could contain no longer, but instantly cried out, and applauded the comfort, the bliss, the happiness enjoyed in that immortal and glorious light the sun.
"my admiration still increased," said Andrenio, "until my attention grew dim, and amazed, because I desired him at a distance, to whom I feared to approach near, my reason telling me, what I observed that no other light but his could dim my eyes, and that no nearer access could be to him, but only by contemplation."
"The sun," said Critilo, "is that creature, which is the most lively effigies, and abstract of the creator's majesty and greatness. He is called, Sol, because he solely runs the compass of the heavens, his presence outshining the glory of the other luminaries: his situation is in the midst of the celestial orbs, as the centre and heart of Light, the perpetual fountain of rays, a constant and an unchangeable essence, whose virtue assisted us to see other things, and yet covers and hides his own beauty with the veil of his brightness: his influence concurs with more immediate causes to the production of all creatures: nor can man deny him to be the author, and parent of his life. His light is most effectual in being communicated; for diffusing itself into all parts, and piercing the very bowels of the Earth, does with an admirable virtue, strengthan, foment, rejoice, and nourish: his influence is not partial, but common, all having need of him, and he of none. In fine, he is a creature of the greatest pomp and glory, the most resplendent beam of the divine majesty."
"A whole day," said Andrenio, "I was employed in beholding him, sometimes in himself, and sometimes his reflections in the waters being forgetful of my time and self."
At this Critilo remembered what the Philosopher said, that he was born to behold the sun; which was well said, though ill understood; for his meaning was, that in this material sun, he did contemplate the divine glory, for if but an emission, and shadow of him be so bright, what must be the true light of that infinite, and uncreated beauty?
"But alas," said Andrenio, "how soon, like the inconstancy of this world, was the height of my comfort changed into displeasure, the joy of my birth into the horror of my death, the throne of the morning into the grave of the night, the Sun being descended through the waters into another world, left me drowned in a sea of my own tears; but whilst the apprehensions of never seeing him again, did grievously affect me, behold on a sudden a new wonder diverted my thoughts, the appearance of a heaven adorned with stars, changed the scene, and renewed my contentment. This prospect was no less welcome than the other, the variety, and strangeness of the objects affording me an entertainment to busy my attention."
"O that immense wisdom of God!" said Critilo, "which has found a means to make the night no less beautiful and admirable than the day. Absurdly has vulgar ignorance imposed the epithets of drowsy, dark, and uncomely upon the twinklings, and serenity of the night: those descriptions of being the repose of labour, the refreshments and diversion of cares, are but reproaches of its sluggishness and melancholy: but better is it expressed by a person of wisdom, who calls it the time of contemplation and thoughts: and for that reason, was the owl at Athans celebrated as the hieroglyphic of knowledge. The night is not so proper for the ignorant to sleep, as for the wise and studious to watch, the night being to prepare that which the day must execute. In this entertainment my thoughts were soon engaged in a labyrinth of numbering the stars, some whereof only twinkled, others shined clearly, observing their various magnitudes, degrees, motions, and colours, whilst some appeared, others withdrew: all resembling," said Critilo, "human fortune, which is no sooner up, but inclines to his setting."
"But what I much considered," said Andrenio, with small satisfaction, "was that disorderly, and yet admirable disposition of them; for seeing the superior artificer had adorned, and sealed the convexity of the heavens with stars, why he did not dispose them with order and method, interweaving them with pretty knots, and flowery circles: I know not how to declare or express myself."
"I already understand you," said Critilo, "your meaning is, that the stars should have been disposed in order, and rank, like some rich embroidery, or the flowers of some delicious garden, or studded like rows of diamonds, that the lustre of one, might with an artificial correspondency have set off the beauty of another."
"Yes," said he, "for besides that the disposition of this resplendent artifice, would have been a prospect more delicious to the sight, so it would have cleared that fond imagination of some, who suppose chance to have been framer of this universe, and by a foolish profaneness hoodwink the providence of the almighty."
"Your query," said Critilo, "is not from the purpose, for you must know that the divine wisdom directing, and disposing of them in this manner, had more sublime reason, than is easily conceivable, placing their harmony, and rule not so much in their situation, as the conveniency of their motion, and temperature: for there is not a star in heaven, which has not his different nature, and influence; as herbs and plants of the Earth have their distinct virtues, some predominate in heat, others in cold, some are dry, others moist; so that their extreme qualities being equally mixed, produce a just and moderate temperature in all. That artificial order that you speak of, is but an idle toy, and fond invention of art affected, and procured only to entertain the vanity of human folly. In this manner, every night represents us a new scene of heaven, nor is our sight, nor our humour though inconstant, ever wearied to behold it. Every person according to his fancy, entertains a distinct conception, and idea of their proportions, the variety and well ordered confusion make the vulgar to imagine them innumerable, and the appearance of disorder is to them a riddle of providence, though wise men have the knowledge to search out, and discover their order and government."
"I was much pleased," said Andrenio, "with the diversity, and variety of their colours, some were pale, others ruddy, some of a gold, others of a silver colour, there only, methoughts, wanted green, that acceptable and grateful object of the sight."
"That," said Critilo, "partakes too much of an earthly quality, greenness being a symptom, or badge of hope, is more agreeable to the future wishes, and growing expectation of the Earth, than to that sublimer region, which is swallowed up wholly in a happy possession. This colour also is contrary to the nature of the celestial luminaries, and is a sign of humidity, and corruption. Did you never observe that star which makes a point in the globe of heaven, the object to the which the load- stone tends, and the blank to which it darts all its emissions? To that the compass of our attention fixes one point, and thereby measures other circles, which running round encompasses our lives."
"I must confess," said Andrenio, "with no less curiosity was my attention taken up in admiring that beautiful queen of the stars the governess of the night, the sun's substitute, and little inferior to him in dignity, that which you call the moon; though at this light I found not those refreshments, nor alacrity, as at the other; yet the varieties of its increasing, and decreasing was no less subject of my admiration."
"It is the second president of time," said Critilo, "an equal colleague with the Sun in government, if one governs the day, the other rules the night, if one is the almanac of the year, the other is of the months, if the Sun heats and dries the Earth by day, the moon refreshes, and bedews it at night; if the Sun cherishes, and ripens the fruitful fields, the moon swells, and overflows the fountains, so that both perform their several functions, and are the two scales and balances of the times and seasons. But that which is best worth your observation is, that as the Sun is a clear mirror, and emblem to represent unto us the perfection of the divine attributes; so the moon is the glass wherein to discover the uncertainty of humane frailty; for her condition, like the inconstancy of his, is never settled, or permanent, but is sometimes in the increase, than in the decrease; sometimes in the first point of its appearance, anon in the last term of its decrease; sometimes at the full, anon in an unperceivable nothing: whose light being totally communicated by the Sun, is eclipsed of her glory by an interposition of the Earth; when she is brightest, she discovers most of her spots; she is the lowest of all the planets in situation, and dignity; her power is more predominant on Earth, than in heaven: so that all those epithets of changeable, defective, spotted, inferior, poor, sad, and the like, are all derived from her too near vicinity with the Earth."
"All this night," said Andrenio, "and many more I spent in this pleasant entertainment, making myself as many eyes, as the heaven had stars, and all too little to view this prospect. But by this time the notes of the birds were alarms of the mornings approach tuning their Salve to his second entrance, giving notice to the stars to retire, and to the flowers to awake. The Sun began again to arise, and I to revive with his sight, whom I cheerfully saluted, but methoughts, with something more cool affections.
"The Sun," said Critilo, "at the second view does not amaze, nor at the third strike admiration. my curiosity began by this time to abate, as my stomach became more sharp; so after I had repeated some applauses, and praises in his honour, I descended lower by the direction of his light (which I perceived was a creature, and an instrument to serve my use) for the strengthaning of the mind is subject to the necessities of the body, and sublime contemplations cannot be continued but by new supplies made to the decays of nature. So that, I say, I descended by that dangerous ladder which those confused ruins had rudely and casually digested, which yet I acknowledge to the providence of heaven; for otherwise there had been no means for my safe descent. But before I tread the least step on the bottom, I must tell you, that both my voice and words fail me; and therefore I must entreat the supply of your expressions to recount the number of my thoughts, and so the second time I invite you to new wonders, though terrene.
The Third Crisis
The variety of Nature is one part of its comely adornment, and affords us matter to busy our heads in contemplation, and our tongues in praises: our souls are naturally propense to observe the effects of Nature: The wisest man called it the worst employment, and indeed so it is, when our considerations arrest themselves in satisfaction of our own vanity, not proceeding to such sublime raptures as may serve to raise in us the returns gratitude and glory to the supreme creator. Though admiration be the daughter of ignorance, yet it is the mother of content; to admire in small things is folly, and to stand unstruck at more miraculous prodigies, is inadvertency. Admiration is the highest expression of praise, we can attribute to any object, and especially if it proceeds like expressions of flattery, which pretend those excesses of perfection that are better evidenced by silence, than words. But it is a vulgar saying, that not the greatness of a wonder, but the novelty affects us; for we are not studious to behold those superior wonders, because they are known but because they are strange; by which means we beg for trifling novelties to entertain our inconstant humour, and pacify our curious solicitude with extravagancies. So much has novelty bewitched us, that the staleness of ancient wonders, is oppressive, and tedious to our inconstancy, which our brains are forced to remedy by the arts and toys of new inventions. That which yesterday struck admiration to the beholders, is to day slighted, and undervalued, not that it has lost its perfection, but our estimation; therefore the wiser sages excuse this former clownery by the civility of new addresses, reflecting on those ancient perfections with delight and admiration. If therefore a pearl brought from another world affects us more, than our own diamond, because extraordinary, what advantage must it than be to Andrenio to see on a sudden the heaven, the stars, the moon, the Sun, the Earth decked with Flowers, and the sky enamelled with stars? Let him relate this himself, and with that he prosecuted his discourse.
"In this conjunction of beautiful rarities, which I never before apprehended, I found the motion of my soul more active, and vigorous than my body, moving my eyes more than my feet, every object retarded my progress, and found me matter to admire and applaud. Whilst yesterday I admired the heaven, I had only opportunity to exercise my sight, but in this nearer approach, had I had a hundred eyes, and as many hands, all would have been too feeble, and exhausted in the diffusion they made of themselves through all the variety of these objects. I unweariedly beheld the multitude of creatures, their different proprieties their essences, forms, colours, affections, and motions: with one hand I gathered a rose, considering the beauty of it, and smelt its fragrant odour, with the other I plucked some fruit to please my taste, and satisfy my appetite: That in a short time I found myself so embarked in such a diversity of prodigies, that I was forced to leave one, to consider the other, still filled with delight, and admiration. But that which with most delight I considered, was, that amongst the multitude of creatures, there should be so great diversity, and difference, that not one leaf of a plant, nor of a sparrow, should have a resemblance of another species."
"In this," said Critilo, "the wise creator determined not only to supply the mere necessities, and wants of man, for whose sake all was created, but bountifully to extend his hand in a various plenty, that so he, who had been thus liberal in his gifts, might well expect man should nor be sparing or niggardly in his returns of service."
"I soon knew," proceeded Andrenio, "some sorts of those fruits, which the courtesy of the beasts had brought unto my enclosure: but especially I observed the manner of their growing, the extension of their boughs, the twining of their roots, which as they were of no small delight to me to behold, so the reason, and nature thereof was too high for my young and unpolished understanding to comprehend: the crudity of the unripe fruits, which I gathered, offended my teeth and taste, not knowing as yet how to distinguish their times and seasons."
"This is another rule," said Critilo, "and disposition of divine providence, to prolong the ripening of some fruits, till the necessity of animals require them. Some not only budded, but ripened in the spring, are first fruits and sacrifices more devoted to our taste, than nourishment, and would rather be early than seasonable: the cool refreshments of others are fitted to temper the summer's heat, and others of a more dry, and durable quality are heaped up for the winter's store, both for provision of the barren season, and by their innate heat to fortify men's stomachs against the winter's cold. The cool herbs of summer abate, and attemper July's heat, and hot plants revive our benumbed coldness in December's frosts: so that one fruit being gone, another comes in, observing their appointed times, and seasons, so as to supply our wants with abundance, and convenience. O that provident bounty of the creator! who appears so expressly manifest, that none can in words deny him, but his inward thoughts and conscience will immediately check, and accuse him."
"I was involved," proceeded Andrenio, "in so delightful a labyrinth of natures twining, that I committed myself to the mercy of my own insatiable curiosity, and to the astonishment, and confusion, which every new object had power to inculcate. I gathered this and t'other flower, feasted with its fragrancy, flattered its beauty; nor was I ever wearied with its smell, or sight; I plucked each leaf particularly, making a prolix lecture thereon, anatomatizing its artificial composure, deducing conclusions from thance of the general comeliness of the whole universe. For thus I reasoned, if one flower be so beautiful, what must be the whole garden? if one star, so bright, and glorious, what must be that transparent clearness of the whole heavens? Who does not admire this glory, and celebrate the praises of so comely, and profitable a fabric?"
"I commend your fancy," said Critilo, "but take care, that the intentness of your outward sense obstruct not the operations of your inward thoughts; that you walk not like those in this garden of the world, whose eyes are fixed downwards, and decline with souls no more elevated than their animal senses: but do you raise your contemplation to that infinite perfection of the creator; other things being but a ray, and glimpse of him: and thus argue, if the shadow be such, what must be the cause and the reality which it follows; if such be the dead, what must be the living? if such be the image, what is the original? For as a cunning artist, designing to build a palace, intends not only to make it strong and convenient, but stately also, and excellent in its symmetrical proportions, which may please the sight, which is one of the most noble of our senses. Even to the divine architect of this palace of the world, has not only fixed the foundation, and pillars of it firm, and stable, but adorned it with the excellency of proportion: so that trees do not yield their fruit before they are first decked with blossoms, making beauty subservient unto profit. From the flagrant flowers the bees collect both substance for their combs, and honey; and from the thin leaves are distilled sweet, and medicinal waters, to revive our spirits, and please our senses."
"But alas," replied Andrenio, "as at first the beauty and odour of those flowers delighted my fancy, so was I no less troubled to see that flourishing estate so soon changed, and faded."
"This," said Critilo, "is a lively emblem of humane frailty, for beauty begins in ostentation, the year smiles amongst the flowers of a cheerful spring, and the day dawns with beams of a blushing Aurora, and man begins to live with the smiles of infancy, and wantonness of youth; but all ends in sadness, and corruption, when the apprehension of being laid in the dust, and paying the tribute of Nature, affrights us with horror; whilst the uncertain time of destiny in general serves to elude men's expectation thereof in particular."
"After I had in this pastime entertained my sight," said Andrenio, "there wanted not the harmony, and musical notes of birds to content my ears: their tuned throats ravished my senses, their quavers, stops, and sweet airs kept time with the woods, and valleys which were instruments of their louder sounds, and by echo bore part with them in the same music; the shrubs also, and twigs dancing at the noise, seemed to salute the Sun at his first arise. I observed here, and that with no small admiration, that nature had bestowed the gift of melody in voice, which is the recreation of our lives, on birds only; beasts with an ungrateful voice offended my ears, and the sound they made was more of horror, than harmony."
"The reason is," said Critilo, "because birds as inhabitants of the air are of more refined spirits in that subtle region, and therefore have the advantage of other creatures, and only can imitate the words of men, through the purity of that place they live in, and abiding in a region of nearer vicinity unto Heaven, have need of sweeter voices to resound continually divine praises. Another thing I would have you to observe, that amongst all the diversity of birds, none is affected with a venomous quality, like those animals, who crawling on the earth, suck in noxious qualities, which should admonish man to avoid the dangers of this region, and retire from the filth of this infection."
"I was much taken," said Andrenio, "to see them so neat, and so pretty in their variety of colours." "But here observe," said Critilo, "that the male has more variety in his colours, than the female, resembling the like in man, whom Nature itself has so sufficiently decked, that he needs no other foils to set him off; but women being subtle in their inventions, know ways to deceive with the snare of their dresses, and to cover their defects with counterfeited feathers."
"That which I much observed," said Andrenio, "was that admirable correspondence, and rule by which the distinct multitudes of creatures were distinguished, and disposed, without one being troublesome unto the other, but rather every one in their several natures, like a well- ordered commonwealth, helpful and assistant amongst themselves."
"This is another effect," said Critilo, "of divine wisdom, the balance of all things in weight number, and measure; for every creature has its centre, his natural place of residence, his duration in time, his proper end both in being, and operation: by this you may see the link and chain of creatures, their orderly situation, and the due degree of their perfection. Of the elements the meanest servants of nature are composed mixed bodies, and the inferiors are subordinate to the superiors: herbs, and plants, which are in the lowest order and degree, of life, are vegetables, moving and increasing until they arrive at the full point, and period of their perfection. In the second order of life are sensitives, the animals of the Earth, which prey on the vegetables, making them food, and nourishment for their own sustenance; and these are the beasts of the field, the fishes of the sea, and the birds of the air; these feed on the grass, people the trees, peck the buds, build in the branches, and make the leaves their defence, and security: but both these, one, and the other are bound to obey a third sort of Nature, viz. the vegetable, and the sensitive are made servants to a higher master, reason, and understanding, which is man, and he subordinated to a greater sovereign which is God, whom he ought to know, love, and serve. In this wonderful order, and harmony, all things are disposed, one creature being made helpful to assist the wants and necessities of another. The water has need of the earth to support it, the earth of the water to bedew it; the water in rarefaction becomes air, and the air food to nourish, and foment the fire: every part being ordained mutually to maintain the other, all generally concur to the preservation of the whole. Besides, it is worth observation to consider those ways, and means the divine providence has invented for the preservation of that being, which he has given to every creature, especially to the sensitive, as the most considerable, which is a natural instinct to know the good, and avoid the bad: whence we may better admire, than relate, the apt ability some have to deceive, and that others have to escape and fly the danger."
"Though all this diversity of prodigies," said Andrenio, "was but as one continued series of novelty: yet my wonder was still dilated with the sight and survey of that immense ocean. The sea seemed as envious of the earth to form tongues in the water to chide my sluggishness, and by the noise of its waves to invite my curiosity to a new admiration. Thus wearied with my walks, but not with my thoughts, I sat me down, on one of yonder cliffs, oppressed with as many fits of astonishment, as the sea has waves. I contemplated much on those slight bounds that imprison the sea, and the obedience of that furious monster to the gentle curb of the unstable sand. Is it possible," said I, "there should be no stronger wall, than that of dust, to limit the violence of this furious enemy?"
"Hold," said Critilo, "divine Providence has with much lenity circumscribed the rage of two boundless enemies, which being let loose, would have destroyed the world, and its inhabitants. The sea he has terminated with the limits of the sands, and the fire he has imprisoned in the hard entrails of the flint, which being called by two strokes only comes forth, and serves our occasions: when we have no farther need of it, it retires or is extinguished; if this were not, two days could not pass, before the Earth were consumed by the fire, or drowned with the waters."
"I could not satiate myself," said Andrenio, "in beholding the transparent clearness of the waters, and my eyes were hydropically thirsty to view the constant motion of those liquid crystals."
"They say," answered Critilo, "that the eyes being composed of those two humours waterish, and crystalline, are so much pleased with beholding waters, that they are never wearied in beholding them.
"Above all," said Andrenio, "when I saw so many fishes within the bowels of the sea, so differently formed from birds, and beasts, it was here, that I can properly say, my admiration was at a stand, and being wholly exhausted was reduced to a ne plus ultra. Upon this rock being set alone, without other admonition than my own weak meditations, I began to consider the rare harmony of the universe, which being composed of contraries, one would think in so near a conjunction should like irreconcilable enemies, as they are, combat both to their own, and the world's destruction: This held me for some time in contemplation; for who would think a league could be made to compose things so contrary, and opposite?"
"It is true," answered Critilo, "the world is compounded of contraries, and agreement of discords; as the philosopher saith, 'there is nothing, but has an enemy with whom to combat,' either with victory, or subjection, all is with action, and passion, none assaults, but his blows are returned by his enemy. The elements command the vanguard, by whose example the mixed compositions are encouraged to battle, one destroying the other, evils waiting to entrap our goods, and malice to ruin, and overthrow our fortunes. Sometimes even the stars have their dissentions, and quarrels, and though there is no weapons, or power in fight capable to hurt those invulnerable bodies; yet the damage of the war, like that of sovereign princes, redounds to the affliction of their sublunary vassals, and their natural discords are converted to moral oppositions: so that none on Earth, is so peaceable and quiet, but finds some whom he may hate, or emulate, for corrupt nature is pregnant with the innate seeds of dissention. Thus in age the old are opposers of the young, in complexion the phlegmatic are averse to the choleric, in estate the rich unsociable with the poor, in climate the Spaniard unpleasing to the French: thus in all forts of qualities, and conditions, some are contrary, or in opposition unto others. But what if I should tell you, that within the very gates of man himself, within the small compass of that earthly cottage, the fire of dissention should be kindled, and he as an enemy oppose himself? For he as a little world is compounded of all contraries: the humours begin the quarrel, the moisture resists the radical heat, still endeavouring to abate, and quench it; the inferior parts are always offensive to the superior, contradicting their designs, and intentions, and the appetite subdues, and tramples on reason. The soul, that immortal spirit, is not free from this calamity, the passions quarrel amongst themselves; Fear endeavours to abate valour, melancholy mirth; sometimes we desire, and than we abhor, sometimes vices triumph, and anon virtues, all consists of arms and war, and the life of man on Earth is nothing but a continued warfare. But O! that wonderful and infinite wisdom of the creator, who has so moderated, and attempered the contrarieties of creatures, as to make their discords their stay, support, and conservation, and thereby to unite, and sustain the whole fabric of the universe."
"This," said Andrenio, "was none of my meanest contemplations, observing so much change in so much permanency, all things seemed to move in a continual progress to their natural end, and yet the world as the stage of the tragedy to remain the same constant, and immutable."
"The supreme artificer," said Critilo, "has so ordained, that nothing should end, but another should begin, that from the ashes, or ruin of the one should arise another, that the corruption of one should be the generation of another: when all things seem to be at an end, a new offspring begins, Nature peoples again the world, and older ages cast their bill, and grow young with a new generation, in all which is to be admired, and adored the wisdom of divine providence."
"But here," said Andrenio, "did not my thoughts, and observation rest, but still proceeded to consider the variety of times, and seasons, the exchange of day with night, of summer with winter, by the moderate and gradual intervention of the temperate spring; Nature proceeding by degrees never makes so long a step as from one extreme to another."
"In this again," said Critilo, "appears the divine government, not only in appointing unto all creatures, their orders and situation, but in accommodating fit times and opportunities agreeable to all occasions. The day serves for labour, and the silence of the night for quietness and repose: the frosts of winter fix and extend the roots of plants, and the spring with a reviving warmth causes the branches to blossom, and the summer appears in plentiful hopes, and the autumn crowns our labours with the fruits we reap, and gather into our barns. But what do you think of the strange miracle of the rains?"
"This too I admired very much," said Andrenio, to see those sweet dews distil on the earth with gentleness, and divided streams, for a common refreshment."
"And so seasonable," added Critilo, "in the two months of October and April, which are productive of fruit, and serve the plow, and seed, with a kindly moisture. The changes also of the moon contribute unto plenty, and favour by a wholesome influence the health of creatures; for some months are cold, others hot, some moist, and blustering, others dry, and serene, according to the different seasons: the waters cleanse, and fructify, the winds purge, and animate; the Earth immovably supports the descending gravity of bodies, the air is pliable not to hinder their motion, and diaphanous not to obstruct and cloud the sight. Whence we may see, that it is, that divine omnipotence, that eternal providence, and that only immense bounty, which alone knows how to erect this vast fabric, which we can never sufficiently admire, contemplate and applaud."
"These are certain truths," said Andrenio, "which I have often observed, and yet ill conceived in my rude understanding. It was no unpleasant entertainment to me, to traverse all the day from one place unto another, from one prospect to another, continuing to admire, and view the heaven, the earth, the seas, the fields, and all with an insatiable fruition. But that point, on which I much insisted, was that admirable art of the divine wisdom, which with so much facility has performed a labour so difficult, and in the first invention proceeded to the very height and top of all perfection, and accomplishment: How much art was there in fixing the Earth firmly on its basis to be a secure foundation for the following superstructure? Nor less admirable are those perennal streams of fountains, which swell with an inexhaustible increase, whose continued inundation is no more than a necessary plenty. How much power is there in forming the tempests, and those still whisperings of wind, which steal from unknown places, and as much unknown the stages to which they tend? How much power was there in digesting those useful heaps of mountains, the ribs of this composure, the bay and harbour for the Earth to shroud itself under? These, as they are additions to the beauty of the world's variety, so are they the treasuries of the snows the mines from which metals are extracted, are the dissolvers, or breakers of the clouds, the head and original of fountains, and the dens of beasts; from them fall the lofty pines to build our ships, and houses; in them we have refuge from the over- flowings of waters, in them we remain secure, as in towers, or bull-works from the sudden assaults, or surprizal of our enemies: all which miracles, and wonders, what but an infinite wisdom could storm, and dispose with reason, therefore must we confess that were all the best heads, and judgments of the world united in one, and all their reasons, and discourses, squeezed, and distilled to the purest quintessence of rationality, it were not capable to amend the least circumstance, or make an addition to the least atom of Nature's perfection. And if that king, for only knowing four stars, was so highly commended by one of his parasites (so much is wisdom esteemed in a prince) and with that extravagant applause, saying, that if he had been counsellor to the divine workman, at that time when he created, and ordered these things, that his human wisdom would have outdone the divine, and better contrived the composure of his fabric. But this saying proceeded not from an effect of reason, but from a defect of judgment, incident to the nature of the Spanish nation; which in the swellings of their boasting humour cannot moderate their ostentation though with God himself."
"Hear me," said Andrenio, "this last truth the greatest, and most sublime of any, that I have yet declared. I confess, that though I have admired four strange prodigies in this universe, The multitude and variety of creatures, the harmony and agreement in contraries, their beauty and ornament mixed with profit, and convenience, and their mutations with permanency. Yet above all, I remained confused in the knowledge of the creator, who is so manifest in his creatures, and yet hid in himself; whose attributes are imprinted on every step, and action of his work, as his omnipotence in the execution, his providence in the government, his beauty in the perfection, his bounty in the communication; and so the rest of his attributes; of which as none were unemployed at the beginning, so in succeeding ages are maintained, and conserved by the existence and operation of his power. And notwithstanding this great God is hid, though known, not seen, though manifest, far distant, though near; this is that riddle which has confused my understanding, and left me in an ecstasy of love, and adoration."
"man," said Critilo, "is naturally inclined to love his maker, as the beginning, and end he tends unto. Nor is there any nation so barbarously ignorant, in whom the light of Nature has not infused the awe, and reverence of a deity, sufficient to curb the most audacious profaneness, and convince them of the divine essence, omnipresence. Nature having made nothing but to some end, the inclinations and propensities of every creature are useful in their several operations. If the loadstone turns unto the North, it denotes a sympathy between them, and its trembling till it returns unto its point, shows that a violence is offered to its nature, whilst it remains in the state of separation. If the plant turns with the Sun, the fish to the water, the stone to the centre, and man to God, there must be a God, who is his attracting North, his centre, and Sun, to which his head bends, and with whose vigour, and heat the deadness of his soul receives vigour to revive. From this great sire do all creatures acknowledge to have received their being: he only is from himself, and therefore is infinite in all kind of perfection, whose being none is able to circumscribe with place, or time. Though he is not seen, yet he is known, and like a sovereign prince keeps a distance agreeable to his majestic greatness, not admitting, unless rarely, his vassals to a familiar audience, and yet is familiarly present with all by the representation of his creatures. So that a philosopher defines this world to be the grand looking-glass of God. Philon Ebreus terms it 'the invitation of the soul, and the only nourishment which feeds minds.' Pythagoras calls it 'a tuned-harp, whose measure, and harmony wraps up our contemplations, and thoughts with uncontainable ravishments.' Tertullian names it 'the pomp of increated majesty.' And Trismegistus 'the musical consonancy of the divine attributes.'"
"These are," and so concluded Andrenio, "the first rudiments of my life, better conceived than related; for where the thoughts are screwed beyond their natural power, there must consequently want words to utter them. That which I must now desire of you is, that you would satisfy my longing expectation to know what you are, and from whence you came, and how you passed the rolling waves of this ocean, tell me if there be more worlds, or more people than this, to all which my curiosity will render me as attentive as you can desire."
To which relation Critilo willingly consented, being the great tragedy of his life declared in the following Crisis.
The Fourth Crisis
Critilo Relates the misfortunes of his Love in the time of his Youth; and the occasion of his Shipwreck.
They say that Cupid complained of the injuries he had received from fortune, in that she had slighted and undervalued the power of his mother, by not appealing, as she was want, to her arbitrement and judicature.
"What want you blind boy?" said Fortune, and he again, replied, "this is agreeable to those reproaches and scorn, which envy and dissention have cast upon me."
Fort. With whom have you this enmity?
Cupid. With all the world.
Fortune. I am sorry you should contend with so powerful an enemy, and that the justice of your cause should invite none to defend it.
Cupid. Had I but only you on my side, I should be sufficiently defended, and this my mother daily tells me, and often preaches to me, that I should get you to my friendship and party.
Fort. But do you not revenge yourself?
Cupid. Yes, both of young and old.
Fort. Well, but what is the occasion, and reason for your anger?
Cupid. The cause is as great, as just.
Fort. Perhaps those ordinary reproaches of having been born in the family of a mechanic, or your education to be no other than amidst the anvil, and hammers of a smooty forge.
Cupid. No, not these, for never was I so disingenuous as to deny truth.
Fort. Nor should it trouble you to be called the son of your mother.
Cupid. This less; for I triumph and glory rather to proceed from the race of so divine a progeny; neither can I be without her, nor she without me; neither Venus without Cupid, nor Cupid without Venus.
Fort. Now I know your distaste, you are vexed to be thought the heir of your grandfathers defects, or to imitate the sea, that troubled and inconstant element.
Cupid. No, for these are but fables.
Fort. If these be fables, what are truths?
Cupid. That which unquiets me is, that they impose upon me false aspersions, unseemly epithets, and slanders.
Fort. I understand you now; without doubt it is, that they say, you have changed your bow with death, and are not called amor from amare, but from mori, as if love, and death were both one, your profession being to destroy life, to unrip the heart, and lodge it in another; rather where it loves, than where it animates.
Cupid. This is all true.
Fort. If this be true, what other reproach can you complain of, as false, or injurious?
Cupid. Are those true, that speak me blind, and whose malice would pluck out my eyes? If I am blind, let those well-shot arrows declare, or those marks hit, be mended by the shafts of a more quick- sighted shooter. They paint me also with a fillet bound about my eyes; not only Apelles, whose fancy guides his pencil, nor the poets, whose obligation is to feign, and their trade to invent fabulous fancies; but also the wise and understanding philosophers; These are they which move my patience, and make me angry to think their better judgments should style me such, and like the rest be seduced with a vulgar error. Prithee tell me, Fortune, what passion is there, that does not blind? Is not the angry blinded with his own choler? The covetous with his interest? The desperate with his confidence? The idle with his sleep? Is not the vain a mole in his gallantry, and the hypocrite blinded with the beams of his eyes? And do not the proud, gluttonous, and drunkards group in the darkness of their own passions? Why than do they impose this ignominy on me only, and so deprive me of my sight, that by a metonymy of blindness they describe me? which is the more strange, because this deprivation is contrary to my nature; and sight gives me the first being. By seeing I begin, and thereby my passion is nourished and formed, and like an eagle at the Sun, am never wearied with beholding beauty. This is the quarrel, and injury I complain of; what think you, have not I reason?"
"The same," said Fortune, "is my grievance; and since we both lie under the same abuse, let our equal misfortune comfort, and content us both; but that which has chiefly imposed this name upon you, is the too raised conceit of your own sight, as if only enamoured spirits knew how to delight their eyes; and that others had only light to serve their necessity, and not their curiosity, which causes you to accuse them of blind ignorance, and upbraid your defects in return of their affronts: He that will see this philosophy compared with experience, let him attend to this following discourse of Critilo, which he dedicates to the years of flourishing youth."
"Your demand," said he, "renews my ancient grief, which my mind already better feels, than my tongue relates: as your discourse was pleasant and delightful, so the troubles, and misfortunes of my life convert our former content into extremes of melancholy: happy art thou who wast born among the beasts, and unhappy I who was born and educated amongst men, whose cruelty exceeds that of ravenous wolves; for every one is to the other such, and to be a man is to be more inhumane than they. You have given me an account how you came into the world, and I shall tell you, how I came out of it; the sense of which has so altered, and changed my humour, and condition, that I know not so well to tell you who I am, as who I was. They say I was born at sea, and indeed the inconstancy of my fortune persuades me the same."
The word, sea, was no sooner out of his mouth, but turning his eyes towards it, on a sudden started up, and distrusting his sight at first, stood a while in suspense, but at length calling to Andrenio, and pointing with his Finger, "dost thou not see," said he, "yonder afar off?"
"What is it you see?"
"I see," said he, "some wandering mountains, or winged sea- monsters, or else some clouds."
"No," said Critilo, "they are ships, though you have said aptly in calling them clouds; for they rain gold into Spain."
Andrenio was much pleased to see them come in with such full swelled Sails; for he admired a sight so unusual, being naturally desirous to enter into human society; but Critilo began to sigh, and lament the trouble and inconvenience of the present occasion.
"What is the matter," said Andrenio, "is not this the desired fleet of which you told me?"
"Yes."
"Are not those men that come?"
"Yes."
"Why than are you so sad?"
"For this only reason," said Critilo, "for know, Andrenio, that we are already lodged within the power of our enemies; now we must be circumspect over all our actions, be provident in seeing, cautious in hearing, but especially speaking; we must bridle our tongues, and before we begin our speech, we must premeditate what inconvenience may ensue. The professions you make may to credulous ears insinuate affection and friendship, but be so provident as to arm against the assaults of enemies."
This new lecture seemed strange to Andrenio, whose Judgment not being improved by experience, made him to reprove Critilo, wondering that he did not rather advise him of the dangers of the woods, and cruelty of beasts, than with so much inveterate hatred to inveigh against man.
"Was not our danger greater," said he, "whilst our want of habitation drove us to the dens of tigers, nor did you fear them, much less should your courage abate with the sight of men."
"Yes," sighing, answered Critilo, "for if men be not beasts, it is because their inhumanity exceeds theirs, whose irrational soul is not capable to invent such extravagant iniquities. Never was our danger greater than with the approach of these; which truth is confirmed by the example of a king, who to protect his favourite from the violent hands of his own courtiers, enclosed him within the den of his lions, esteeming him more secure there, than within the reach, or power of his malevolent prosecutors."
"I shall refer that to your own confession, after that your better experience has acquainted you with the same."
"Hold," said Andrenio, "are they not all like you?"
"Yes, and yet are not, for every one is the son of his mother, wedded to his own humour, and opinion, and affected with a diversity both of fancy and gesture. There are some who but pigmies in growth, have yet their souls elevated to the skies, and others, giants in bodies, have yet their thoughts levelled with the earth: you shall meet others of a revengeful, and malicious spirit, whose rage dies not with time, and whose rancour infects others; as poisonous as the scorpion's tail, having its venom sublimated by age, and long durance. You shall hear, but let it be your care to avoid the impertinent discourses of the talkative, which are often vain, and idle, and neither profitable to him that speaks, or hears them. You will please yourself with the conceits of some, whose quicker genius comments on the actions of others, imitating in a jesting scorn their words, their manners, and behaviour; but these men reflect not on the looseness of their own lives, nor how obnoxious they are to the censures of a scrutinous judge; others there are foolishly inquisitive, whose impertinent questions may puzzle the answers of a good resolver. You shall see others, whose long discourses conclude in nothing, in all things aggravating and enlarging; for though they be men more short in stature than one of Navarre, and corpulent also, are yet without substance. In fine, you shall find few men that are so, brutes they may be, and monsters of the world, having no substance but their own flesh and skin, and the rest but a mere shadow or apparition of mankind."
"But tell me, how is man capable of doing so much mischief, since Nature as seemingly negligent of him, has denied him those weapons with which, she has armed, and defended beasts? He has no claws like the lion, or tiger, no trunk like the elephant, no horns like the bull, no tusks like the boar, no teeth like the dog, nor mouth like the wolf, how than is that unarmed malice able to wage such continual war?"
"For this very reason," said Critilo, "has provident Nature not delivered weapons into the hands of an enemy dangerous to himself, and the rest of her Product; whose hate knows no bounds, for being let loose, would destroy even Nature herself, notwithstanding all which, his malice has found means to convert those parts which Nature has given him for necessary uses into more bloody and cruel weapons than those of beasts, his tongue is more sharp than the lions claws, by which he shatters the reputation of others, and wounds them in their name, and honour. His bad intentions are more perverse, and crooked than the bulls horns, hurt at random, and hit those it never aimed at: his bowels are more poisonous than the vipers, his breath blasts more than the dragons, his eyes are more envious, and dart more deadly emissions, than the basilisks, his teeth are more sharp than the fangs of the boar, and his nose like the elephants trunk, wrings and turns itself into a thousand forms, and shapes of derision; so that all those offensive arms which are sparingly delivered to other creatures, are not given to, but usurped by man, and in him found as the store and magazine of them all. And that you may understand this the better, know that lions, and tigers are capable of no other damage, than what touches their bodies; but man is liable to what misery, fraud, deceit, treason, theft, homicide, adultery, envy, injuries, detractions, and falsities can throw on his honour, and cast on his peace, estate, content, happiness, conscience, nay and to a malice, which would proceed to the very ruin, and destruction of his soul. Believe me, there is no wolf, nor lion, nor tiger so inhumane, as man; which is sufficiently verified, if true, what is reported. That a malefactor being condemned to die upon a legal trial, was by sentence of justice to be cast into a deep cave to be there devoured by ravenous beasts: it fortuned that a stranger passing by, and hearing the sighs, and groans of the condemned person, and yet ignorant of the punishment, was moved by compassion to relieve him out of misery; to which end opening the cave suddenly, with extraordinary nimbleness leaped out the tiger, which contrary to its nature, and the expectation of the traveller, by way of salute and gratefulness, kindly kissed and licked his hands; next followed the snake, which twined about his legs, not to wound, but to embrace them; in like manner did all the rest most gratefully join to give him thanks not only for saving their lives, but for rescuing them from a death accompanied with the loathsome society of a wicked man; in recompense of which they seemed to advise him to fly and be gone, least when that miscreant came forth, he should endanger his own life, by saving his the passenger, though much amazed, yet desired to see him whom he had so much obliged, expecting some acknowledgements for so great a benefit, instead of which the malefactor coming forth, and supposing that the traveller carried some wealth and riches with him, killed him, and despoiled him of all, a kind return of his charity and compassion. And now judge, which are most cruel, men, or beasts."
"I am more astonished, and amazed," said Andrenio, to hear this, than the day I beheld the world."
"You cannot fully conceive their malice," said Critilo, "and yet women are worse, and more dangerous."
"If they be worse, what must they be than?"
"In short they are devils, hereafter I will tell you more of them: but above all I conjure you, that by no means you tell, who we are, nor how I came hither, nor how you proceeded to light, for by that means you may loose your liberty, and I my life. And though I distrust not your faithfulness, and secrecy, yet I am glad, that I have not finished the relation of my misfortunes, which in this only are fortunate, that being as yet untold, are not subject to that discourse which may sometimes inconsiderately fall from you. Here therefore we will double down the leaf, until the next occasion, which cannot want in so long a voyage."
By this time the near approach of the fleet made their voices more distinct and audible, which they raised with greater acclamations with the joy conceived at their arrival: men always grow more wanton, when their success promises fairest, and their enterprises have the face of a happy issue; being come into the road, they furled their sails, and cast their anchors, and the passengers began to land on the desired shore: The meeting was as strange to the new-come guests, as to the two inhabitants; who in the relation they gave of themselves, declared, that having been asleep, or negligent at the departure of the last fleet, they were left behind on that island, which account reconciled both their pity, and their courtesy. Having thus for some days entertained themselves in hunting, and furnished their vessels with fresh water, and wood, they set to sea, directing their course to desired Spain. Critilo and Andrenio embarked together on the same galleon, which sort of vessel is a terror to its enemies, the opposer of the winds, and a yoke of subjection to the ocean. The voyage was as dangerous as long, but the relation which Critilo made of the many tragedies his life had passed, was a good entertainment for tedious hours, which he prosecuted in this manner.
"I was born, (as I have already told you) amidst of this immense gulf, and of the dangers and continual motions of this turbulent element. The reason was, that my parents being spaniards, by consent, and favour of Philip the Great, the most universal and mighty monarch, embarked for the Indies with no small wealth to improve their fortunes. my mother at that time suspecting herself with child, carried me in her womb; and before the tedious voyage was ended, brought me forth, whose untimely birth was hastened by the terrors of that tempest, in which I came to light, that so the raging of the seas, might add pains to the pangs of her travail: my being born amidst this confusion, was a bad omen of my future infelicities, so early began fortune to play with my life, hurrying me from one part of the world to the other. At last we arrived at that rich and famous city of Goa, which is the court of the Catholic empire in the east, the imperial and august seat of its vice-kings, and universal emporium of the Indies, and its richness. At this place lived my father, whose stock, which he brought with him, directed with prudence, and industry, advanced suddenly both his fame, and fortune. But I, being educated amidst the happiness of a plentiful condition, and being the only son of my parents, was tenderly nurtured with too much care, and indulgence, whose fondness to me in my childhood, produced the fruits of an exorbitant youth. For being now entered into the green champions of springing years, made wanton with delights, loose and uncurbed by the reigns of reason, I fell into gaming, impairing my estate, and abusing the industry of my parents, whose cares obtained that with trouble, which my folly squandered in pastime. From this vice I passed to the vain toys of gallantry, and fashions, dressing my body with borrowed feathers, whilst I neglected the true adornments and virtues of the soul. This vanity of mine was incited forward, by the evil conversation of some pretended friends, flatterers, and braves, the vile moths of an estate, honour, and conscience. The wisdom of my father prognosticated the ruin of me his unfortunate son, and family, from whose rigour I appealed to the indulgent tenderness of my mother, whose protection defended me not, but destroyed me."
"But at that time my father gave an end unto his days, seeing but little hopes to recover me from my desperate condition, especially as than being blindly entangled within the labyrinth of love, For I had cast my affections upon a lady, though noble, beauteous, and as perfect as Nature could make her, yet wanting the endowments of fortune, she shined not in that lustre to the world as to be adored, and courted for them: only I alone idolized her person, and my devotion grew more zealous by the correspondence of her favours: and though her parents desired to admit me into their family, yet mine refused to admit her into theirs, endeavouring by all means to wean my affections, which they stilled my ruin, and by proposing another match more fitted to their convenience, than my content, thought to distract, or divert my love, which was so firm, and blindly constant, that nothing could overcome: I thought, I spake, I dreamed of nothing but Felisinda (for so she was called) esteeming no small portion of my happiness to consist in the repetition of her name. This, and many other discontents were heavy troubles of my aged father (the ordinary punishment of paternal indulgence) which sat so heavily on him, as to deprive him of his life, and me of my protection; but yet the ignorance of my youth knew not how to make that estimate of my loss as the importance of so great damage ought to have affected me. my tender natured mother bewailed, and performed the obsequies of the dead with tears sufficient for us both; but with that excess, that her own life lasted not long after, leaving me more free, and less sad. The undoubted hopes of obtaining my mistress, were now by the removal of those obstacles, some remedy of my grief, and recompense of my loss; but those filial respects I owed to the memory of my dead parents, and my desires to comply with the censures of the world, made me for some days to retard my intentions, which seemed years, and ages to my longing hopes. In which interim my inconstant fortune so changed the condition of these present affairs, that the death of my parents, which at first seemed to facilitate my desires, was that at last which put the obstacle. and reduced them to an estate of almost impossible. For it fortuned, that in a short time the brother of my mistress died, a gentleman well accomplished, and noble, the sole heir of the family, leaving my Felisinda inheritrix of all, and phoenix in all ornaments, whose beauty now joined with riches, made her glory to shine in the highest magnitude; her fame was greatly spread in one day, being become a person that suited with the most aspiring ambition of that court. This unexpected accident intervening, things had a strange change, and the face of my affairs looked different, to what they formerly promised; only the constancy of Felisinda was stable, and changed in nothing but in greater kindness; her friends and parents aspiring now unto higher mmatches, were the first who by cold entertainments discountenanced my pretensions, which they had formerly invited: this neglect proceeded afterwards to affronts, and endeavours to move in her a hatred of my person; but she advised me of all that might disadvantage me, made me of a lover to become her councillor. many other rivals as powerful as numerous declared themselves; but lovers who were wounded more by those arrows which were shot from the quiver of her portion, than from the bow of love; yet of all I was timorous and suspicious, love being naturally jealous, and like an effeminate passion apt to be foiled with the least disappointment, but that which gave me the greatest blow, was the pretensions of a new rival, who, besides that he was comely, rich, and youthful, he was kinsman of the vice-king, which is there as much as to be allied to a deity, or to be a branch of divinity, whose will is his law, and whose intentions are as soon executed, as conceived; he, I say, began to declare himself a pretender to my mistress, being as confident, as powerful; we both stood at open defiance, he encouraged by the strength of his authority, and I enabled with the passion of love: but his own, and the reason of others assured him, that this long rooted affection of mine, completed with time, and conversation, was not easily eradicated, unless diverted; to which effect, he promised his best assistance, and favour to the industry, and malice of my enemies; whose plot was by law to pretend upon my estate, and thereby either to scare me out of the fits of love, or at least to affright the parents of Felisinda from matching her with me, over whom hanged an apparent ruin. I soon perceived myself entangled within two dangerous toils, of interest, and love; but love being that which most prevailed, the fear of loosing my estate was not strong enough to contend with the valour of my affection, which like the palm grew more under the heavy pressure. But what this plot wanted to avail with me, it worked in the parents of my mistress, who considering most the conveniences of interest, and honour, contrived - I know not how to proceed, it will be better to leave off..." - but Andrenio, still pressing him to proceed - "Well," said he, "in fine, they resolved to kill me, and to deliver that life to my adversary which was already consecrated, and devoted to my mistress; but she acquainted me with the design that night from her balcony, and according to her custom consulted with me concerning the remedy; with which she let fall such a flood of tears, as kindled in my breast a sire, and hell of despair, and fury, so that the next day, not considering the inconveniencies, nor dangers of honour or life, but guided by the blindness of my passion, armed with my sword, or rather thunderbolt, pierced through the quiver of love, and whetted with anger and jealousy, I went in pursuit of my enemy; and now remitting disputes to works, and our tongues to our hands, we unsheathed our swords without remorse, and having made some few passes each at the other, I soon pierced his heart, depriving him both of love, and life; so that now I lay exposed to the sentence of justice; whose ministers, desirous to content the vice- king, and covetous to engross my estate, were ready at hand to execute their office. I was presently sentenced to imprisonment in a dark dungeon, laden with bolts, and irons, the natural fruit of my foolish rashness. The sad news soon came to the ears of my rival's parents, who melted in their sighs and tears, and resolving to revenge the injury, continually thundered out threats against me. The vice-king also moved with the death of his kinsman, designed to prosecute justice to the utmost extremity. The report of our combat was soon bruited abroad, and as men's affections led them, they either condemned, or defended me; but all were generally sorry, that our reason guided us not better than so unfortunately to ruin each other. Only my mistress was she alone, that triumphed in my valour, and celebrated the faithfulness of my affection, and constancy. The charge was strongly prosecuted against me, of which being convicted, my estate became their prey, and my riches a sacrifice to their revenge, venting their malice thereupon, as the angry bull does on the cloak of his escaped enemy. The sole support which remained unto me, were some jewels, which providently I had entrusted within the sacred walls of a monastery, the only relic of my shipwrecked fortune. The violence of this storm stopped not at the ruin of my estate, but proceeded to a condemnation of my life; and having lost my goods, I lost also my friends, which are companions inseparable each from the other; but all this had not yet abated my courage, had not something more unhappy augmented my misfortunes: For the parents of Felisinda discontented at the accidents and disgraces lately past, resolved to leave the Indies, and seek more quietness, and preferment in Spain, which they hoped to procure by the favour, and recommendations of the vice-king. So that having converted their estate into money, they embarked on the first fleet, leaving me -"
With that his sighs interrupted his speech, and his tears gave a full stop unto his discourse: "at last," said he, "they carried with them two pledges of my soul, which doubled my grief, and made it more fatal; one was Felisinda herself, and the other was, the burden which she bore in her womb, miserable only for being mine. They being in this manner set to sea, had their wind increased by the storms of my breast, whom whilst I leave engulfed in the ocean, I was drowned in the sea of my tears, remaining eternally condemned to darkness, and a dungeon, poor and forsaken, forgotten of all, but the malice, and hatred of my enemies."
"As he who falling from a mountain, scatters his spoils on every stone, here his hat, there his cloak, there his eyes, and hands, till at last he looses his life, and bursts in pieces at the bottom. Even so, I sliding from the dangerous cliffs of this ivory rock, more to be feared, because delightful, rolled myself from one misfortune to another, left on every stone testimonies of my ruin, in goods, honour, health, parents, friends, and liberty, till I arrived at this grave, and prison, the abyss and pit of my miseries. Yet I may truly say, that though wealth corrupted my happiness, and raised enemies to throw troubles on me; yet poverty restored me to a better condition; for here I found wisdom, unto which, till now, the extravagance of youth had made me a stranger; here I undeceived myself, and gained experience and health both of body and soul: and being abandoned of all living society, I conversed with the dead, and by reading I began to understand, and to become rational, having only before led the sensitive life; so that having extracted some knowledge, my understanding was enlightened, and my will was obedient to the dictates of it, one being replete with wisdom, and the other with virtue: and so I opened my eyes when there was nothing to see, and so it happens often. I studied the noble arts, and sublime sciences, devoting myself with great affection to moral philosophy, which is the food of the judgment, the centre of reason, and the life of discretion. I reformed myself from the vain society of my companions; instead of a wanton youth, I chose a severe Cato, in place of a shallow wit, a wise Seneca; sometimes I perused Socrates, anon divine Plato, easing in this manner my tedious hours, and recreating myself in that grave of the living, and labyrinth of liberty. Years passed, and vice-kings, but still continued the rigour of my adversaries; for they prolonged the hearing of my cause, and since they could arrive no higher, they resolved to linger out my days in prison, and convert my dungeon into my grave. But at the end of some years miseries, came an order from Spain, obtained by the secret negotiation of my mistress, that my cause and person should be remitted thither. The new vice-king being less my enemy, and more favourable, put it in execution, and dispatched me away in the first fleet, committing me a prisoner to the charge of the captain of the ship. Thus parted I from the Indies, the first from that place, poor, and necessitous, to whom the dangers of the seas seemed entertainments and pleasures. my affable disposition soon gained me friends, and those, that were delighted with truth, were attentive auditors of my lectures of morality; but above all, the captain of the admiralship made me his confident, a favour which I much esteemed, and verified the truth of that common saying, that fortune often changes with the place; and that our designs can never be prosperous, whilst we live under the influence of a malevolent star. But here sit, and admire a prodigy of humane fraud, an extremity of malice, the spite, and quarrel of a contrary fortune, and the full point and period to which the preamble of my miseries tended; for this captain being a gentleman obliged in all points of honour to treat me civilly and fairly, yet puffed with ambition, and infected with the same rancour, and malice which the former vice-king my enemy, and his kinsman bore me, or rather incited with a covetous desire to inherit the small remainder of my estate, which I had saved from the storms of my late shipwreck, was induced to put in execution the lowest, and most inhumane of all unworthiness; for standing together with him one day, on the quarter-deck, entertaining each other with discourse, and with the prospect of the seas, he surprised me unawares, and threw me into the sea: and that he might cover this treachery, he called out too late for assistance to save my life; at his call came his mariners, and my friends, who desirous to help me, threw out their cables and ropes, but all in vain; for my slow arms not being able to follow the swift sails of the flying ship, I was left striving with the waves, and death: but one of those planks which they threw out, as the last hopes, and means to preserve me, was my sacred anchor, and support, which the compassionate waves presented to my innocence, the desperate, yet welcome refuge of my lost hopes, the which I kissing, said, 'On thee will I lay myself, the coffin of this body.' Having thus small hopes to reach the ship, I suffered myself to be carried by the waves, and my own fortune; which not contented to reduce me unto this point of extremity, but venting the rest of her tyranny, called all the elements to conspire against me in such a tempest, as if her intent was not only to destroy me, but first to exercise on me all the train, and solemnity of miseries. The waves sometimes tossed me so high, that I feared to be dashed against the points of the moon, or bruised against the heavens; anon I descended to the centre of the Earth, and again raised to that height, that I feared more to be burned with the heat of heaven, than drowned in the waters of the sea. But as these rigours, of which I have so much complained, have graciously been converted into favours, so the blustering storms have sometimes broke up in a mild calm: for miseries often times have so exceeded, and so over-acted, and strained their part, that misfortunes themselves have passed into blessings. I tell you this because the fury of the tempest, and current of the waters so violently carried me, that in a few hours I came to the sight of this little isle, for otherwise it had been impossible for me, before I had perished with cold, and hunger to have steered my vessel without oars or sails, or rudder, unto this place, which is your country, and my heaven: but in the bad consisted the good, my courage helping me more than my strength, I sheltered myself in the port of your arms, in which I desire a thousand times more to be embraced, and to confirm our friendship to all eternity."
In this manner Critilo gave an end to his relation, and embracing each other, they renewed their first enjoyment, finding within themselves a mutual sympathy of love, and contentment. They passed the rest of their voyage in profitable exercises, and besides, their pleasing discourses, which were all but a continued lecture of Iinstructions, he taught him some knowledge of the world, and the rudiments of those arts which inspire and enrich the soul; as history, cosmography, the sphere, and chiefly that which most becomes a man, namely moral philosophy; but that to which Andrenio was most intent, and studious in, was to learn the tongues, as Latin, that eternal treasury of wisdom, Spanish, as universal as its empire; the courtly French, and eloquent Italian, which he made use of as keys to open that treasure which is enclosed in them; and sometimes for his convenience, and use, to pass over the various countries of the world. The curiosity Andrenio had, was as great as his docility; so that he was always conferring, and asking concerning the provinces, republics, monarchies, and cities, and of their kings, and governors, still improved himself with as much delight, as novelty, desiring to arrive at the highest point of wisdom, and understanding. In this pleasant employment they contentedly passed the tediousness of this voyage, who at their usual time arrived in this part of the world. Whose various successes, and events are related in the following crisis.
The Fifth Crisis
Nature has dealt subtly, if not fraudulently with man, by decoying him into the world in a condition of ignorance: for he enters in obscurity, and blindness, and begins to live before he is sensible of his life, or knows, what it is to live; his fond childishness is hushed with every trifle, and lulled asleep with a toy. She makes him believe, that she has led him into a kingdom of felicities, which prove but miseries to enslave him, which when the eyes of man's judgment discovers, he finds himself defrauded, and engaged without remedy, placed in that dirt out of which he was formed, and can now only trample on it, and endeavour on the best conditions to escape. I am persuaded were it not for this universal policy, none would upon such hard conditions adventure to tread this deceitful world, were they forewarned of those difficulties they were to undergo. For who being first acquainted with these infallible inconveniencies, would rashly precipitate himself into this feigned kingdom, and true prison, wherein to suffer both multitudes, and varieties of punishments, as in the body, hunger, thirst, cold, heat, nakedness, grief, infirmities; in the mind, deceits, persecutions, envies, contempts, dishonours, melancholy, fear, anger, desperation; and at the end of all to escape out by the passage of a miserable death, with the loss of our goods, houses, honours, friends, parents, nay of life itself, which than flies from us, when we most pursue it. Nature knew well what she proffered, and what evil man accepted. For he who were aware of this condition, would rather than pass these miseries, step at once from his cradle to his urn, or from his marriage-bed into his grave. The tears which he drops at his birth, are common presages of his succeeding miseries. The happiest that are born to great Inheritance, enter but on a sad possession, and the music which welcomes this king man into the world, is composed of his own cries, and tears, which fore-run his troubles, and denote the future unhappiness of his kingdom. For what can that life be to which the groans of his mother give a being, and the weepings of the child, which receives it; though he has no knowledge to conceive his misfortunes, has yet a prophetic spirit to divine them.
"We are now," said the wise Critilo, to the inexperienced Andrenio, "arrived in the world," when they first disembarked and stepped on the sands of Spain; "I am sorry that your understanding so ripe enters into this country, for thereby you must needs be most sensible of the dissatisfaction, and emptiness of things; whatsoever the supreme artist has undertaken to perform, has been completed in the greatest height, and measure of perfection; but the invention of man has begun what he can never be capable to perfect. What God has orderly disposed, the unquietness of man to the farthest extent of his power has strained itself to trouble, and confound, and what through his inability he could not reach, his working fancy has endeavoured to disorder. You have seen hitherto the works of nature, admired and contemplated on them; now observe those of art, the artificial skill of men, and comparing those of men, and God together, your own reason will distinguish one from the other. Oh what a vast distance and difference you will find between the civil, and the natural world, between the human, and the divine; this I thought fit to advise you, that you may not admire whatsoever it is, you see, nor be discouraged by any accidents that befall you."
Thus being entered upon their journey, they reasoned themselves into a path plain and beaten, the first they met with, wherein Andrenio observed that in all the ways and paths of men, the footsteps seemed to bend forward, and none backwards, a sign that those who followed them, never returned. Not far had they passed before there offered a strange encounter, yet very pleasing and diverting, namely, a disordered band of childish infantry, a squadron of children made up of different conditions and nations, a Babylonish confusion both of fashions, and languages: the governess, and protectress of these was a woman, of a courteous aspect, cheerful countenance, kind words, pious care, who diligently over-eyed, and watched her charge, with the greatest caresses and love, that could be expressed from a most indulgent mother. The servants which she had procured to be assistant to her, were of the same good disposition, and nature like her, who still attended to this helpless board; those that could not go, they carried in their arms, and such as could walk they led by the hand. It was wonderful to observe the tender bowels of this common mother, whose sole thoughts and desires were to pacify their unreasonable complaints, which she hushed with a thousand toys, and baubles, which she had provided for them, together with comfits, and sweetmeats, with which no sooner any cried, than immediately she applied herself to pacify it; but a more special care she took of some of greater finery and bravery than the rest, which seemed the sons, and offspring of more noble families, which she so indulgently contented, as in nothing to restrain their desires, such was the care, and embraces of this pious mother, that the natural parents would resign their trust into her arms, in whose they esteemed them more secure, than in their own. Andrenio was much pleased to see the marches of this tender infantry, admiring, and contemplating on the childish age of man, and taking one into his arms, wrapped in his mantles, said to Critilo, "is it possible this should be a man? who would believe it? is it likely this almost senseless creature, this unprofitable member of the world should with time put on the gravity of Cato, and his babbling tongue persuade with the eloquence of a Seneca, or of a Count monterrey?"
"Now you may see," said Critilo, "what it costs to become a man: for to be so, is not the work of a moments space; brutes soon attain their perfection, and with agility and strength of body live, and move; but man's accomplishments are of a higher value than naturally to grow upon him, or to surprise him at unawares."
"I did much admire," said Andrenio, "this fond affection of this rare woman, and the unnatural bowels of mothers in comparison of hers: So that I who was born within the hard bowels of the rocks, and nurtured among beasts, began to envy this felicity, and to wish a recall of my years, only to deliver my helpless age to the protection of her arms; for I have been exposed to hunger, cold, nakedness, and all has seemed to stop their ears unto my cries, nothing endeavouring to pacify my tender peevishness, or to comply with the weak simplicity of my humour."
"Do not envy," said Critilo, "that which as yet you know not, nor style that a happiness whose end and event is uncertain; for there are many things in the world which bear a different face to what really they are, as you will find by experience; being now come into the world to live, see, and observe: this youthful crowd travelled, without stay, or refreshment, traversing the country, but still descending downward; it was wonderful to see this pigmy band march so stoutly, and that for all the weary steps they fetched, none tired, nor desired repose: they always gave them meat, which for being all the day, may be called but once."
At length, after they had traversed much ground, they found themselves in a deep valley, fortified about with high mountains, the highest of this universal road; by this time it was night, and than the deep profundity of the place made the darkness more horrible: this deceitful woman, the greatest impostor of humane kind, and traitoress to this tender nursery, made her sign; upon which rushed out from the wood, and dismal dens, an army of lions, tigers, bears, wolves, serpents, and dragons, which mercilessly set on this unresisting force, and disarmed bands of innocents, who in a horrible massacre burst themselves, with draughts of their blood, for some they dragged, others they tore in pieces; the blood of some they sucked; and when their ravenous stomachs were satiated, they sported themselves with the plenty of their feast; there was one monster that swallowed down two at once, and not sufficiently filled with these, extended his paws to enclose others: another beast chewed one in his teeth, whilst his claws were preparing another for his palate; and the rest ran furiously about this tragic theatre, drivelling out the overflowing blood, and laden with two of three apiece, the relics of their plenteous fare, they carried to feed their savage-whelps; great was the confusion, and sad, and cruel was the spectacle of these innocents. And yet such was the fond simplicity, and humour of the infants, that they esteemed this destruction and ruin to be a pastime, and a delight, or sport to be devoured, with nods to invite their cruelty, and with open arms to meet half way the approach of death.
Andrenio was much astonished at the horrid treason of such an unexpected cruelty, and being by the diligence of Critilo retired to a secure place, thus sighed, and said, "O traitorous, barbarous, and sacrilegious woman, more cruel and inhumane than the beasts themselves! is this the fruit of so much care, and were these toils, and indulgencies for no intent, or end but this? O innocent lambs! how soon were you made a victim, and sacrifice of your misfortunes? how soon were you betrayed to an untimely ruin? O deceitful world, is this the fruit you bear, and do you protect those who dare to attempt such horrid cruelties? my own hands shall revenge this sin;" with that he furiously arose to destroy the tyrant-mother, whose known guilt hastened her flight, and with the rest of her assistants, went in pursuit of more, which she had already sold to the cruelty of those destroyers, so that she still supplied the hunger of these beasts, whose stomachs continually craved; whilst Andrenio lamented this irreparable damage.
Amidst of this horrid confusion, and cruel massacre appeared on the other side of the valley, over the top of the highest mountain, with the dawning of the day, another woman of a different nature, who encompassed with light, and attended with a train of servants, which winged flew to the speedy delivery of these perishing infants, her countenance was cheerful, though majestic, and being dressed with rows of pearls, and diamonds, sent forth such emissions and rays of light, that she might well stand in competition with, or supply the place, and absence of Aurora: she was beautiful above measure, and with her more glorious light outshone the beauty of her attending ministers. O fortunate accident! for at the same instant that these murdering beasts perceived her approach, they left their prey, and betaking themselves to their legs, with yells and cries retired to their dens; than she began with singular diligence to collect the scattered relics, which were few, and those gored, and lanced with gaping wounds. The rest of her attendants, with the like care searched their obscure dens; and wresting some from the very jaws and mouths of monsters, saved and protected those in whom they saw the least breath, or pantings of life; but Andrenio observed, that these were those of the meanest rank and condition, and most neglected by that cursed mother, which the beasts esteemed of a more coarse diet, having already made their feast of the more delicious dish of her pampered care; when she had collected them altogether, she made no stop, nor delay to clear them from danger; nor did she stay, till she had conducted them to the top of the mountain, as being most secure. From thance she placed them in the view, and by the rays of light she had infused into them, making them sensible of their rescued condition, and of that danger, to which their ignorance had betrayed them. They being thus secured, she presented to every one those precious stones, which were oreservatives against any danger, and which darted forth such rays of light, that they made the night, day, and were the more estimable, because they were not obnoxious to corruption, or decay. She recommended them to the tuition of wise governors, who should direct, and lead them still upwards, till they arrived to the grand city and metropolis of the world; at the same instant they were again alarmed by the cries of more perishing Infants, in the same fatal, and dismal valley; which this valiant and pious queen no sooner heard, but with the rest of her Amazons she marched to defend and succour. Andrenio was greatly astonished at this sight, and wondered to see the variety of fortune, and the successive exchanges of happiness and miseries of this life?
"What two women are these," said he, "and what strange visions are these of different apparitions. Tell me Critilo, who was the first, that I may hate, and abhor her, and who is the second, that I may honour and adore her."
"What do you think, said Critilo, of this entrance into the world, is it not agreeable to those many admonitions and relations I have already