<p>I should have too fair a game should I consider man in his common way of
living and in gross; yet I might do it by his own rule, who judges truth
not by weight, but by the number of votes. Let us set the people aside,</p>
<p>Qui vigilans stertit,....<br/>
Mortua cui vita est prope jam vivo atque videnti;<br/>
<br/>
"Half of his life by lazy sleep's possess'd,<br/>
And when awake his soul but nods at best;"<br/></p>
<p>who neither feel nor judge, and let most of their natural faculties lie
idle; I will take man in his highest ground. Let us consider him in that
little number of men, excellent and culled out from the rest, who, having
been endowed with a remarkable and particular natural force, have moreover
hardened and whetted it by care, study, and art, and raised it to the
highest pitch of wisdom to which it can possibly arrive. They have
adjusted their souls to all ways and all biases; have propped and
supported them with all foreign helps proper for them, and enriched and
adorned them with all they could borrow for their advantage, both within
and without the world; 'tis in these is placed the utmost and most supreme
height to which human nature can attain. They have regulated the world
with policies and laws. They have instructed it with arts and sciences,
and by the example of their admirable manners. I shall make account of
none but such men as these, their testimony and experience. Let us examine
how far they have proceeded, and where they stopped. The errors and
defects that we shall find amongst these men the world may boldly avow as
their own.</p>
<p>Whoever goes in search of any thing must come to this, either to say that
he has found it, or that it is not to be found, or that he is yet upon the
search. All philosophy is divided into these three kinds; her design is to
seek out truth, knowledge, and certainty. The Peripatetics, Epicureans,
Stoics, and others, have thought they have found it. These established the
sciences we have, and have treated of them as of certain knowledge.
Clitomachus, Carneades, and the Academics, have despaired in their search,
and concluded that truth could not be conceived by our understandings. The
result of these is weakness and human ignorance. This sect has had the
most and the most noble followers. Pyrrho, and other skeptics or
epechists, whose dogmas are held by many of the ancients to be taken from
Homer, the seven sages, and from Archilochus and Euripides, and to whose
number these are added, Zeno, Democritus, and Xenophanes, say that they
are yet upon the inquiry after truth. These conclude that the others, who
think they have found it out, are infinitely deceived; and that it is too
daring a vanity in the second sort to determine that human reason is not
able to attain unto it; for this establishing a standard of our power, to
know and judge the difficulty of things, is a great and extreme knowledge,
of which they doubt whether man is capable:—</p>
<p>Nil sciri quisquis putat, id quoque nescit,<br/>
An sciri possit; quam se nil scire fatetur.<br/>
<br/>
"He that says nothing can be known, o'erthrows<br/>
His own opinion, for he nothing knows,<br/>
So knows not that."<br/></p>
<p>The ignorance that knows itself, judges and condemns itself, is not an
absolute ignorance; to be such, it must be ignorant of itself; so that the
profession of the Pyrrhonians is to waver, doubt, and inquire, not to make
themselves sure of, or responsible to themselves for any thing. Of the
three actions of the soul, imaginative, appetitive, and consentive, they
receive the two first; the last they kept ambiguous, without inclination
or approbation, either of one thing or another, so light as it is. Zeno
represented the motion of his imagination upon these divisions of the
faculties of the soul thus: "An open and expanded hand signified
appearance; a hand half shut, and the fingers a little bending, consent; a
clenched fist, comprehension; when with the left he yet thrust the right
fist closer, knowledge." Now this situation of their judgment upright and
inflexible, receiving all objects without application or consent, leads
them to their ataraxy, which is a peaceable condition of life, temperate,
and exempt from the agitations we receive by the impression of opinion and
knowledge that we think we have of things; whence spring fear, avarice,
envy, immoderate desires, ambition, pride, superstition, love of novelty,
rebellion, disobedience, obstinacy, and the greatest part of bodily ills;
nay, and by that they are exempt from the jealousy of their discipline;
for they debate after a very gentle manner; they fear no requital in their
disputes; when they affirm that heavy things descend they would be sorry
to be believed, and love tobe contradicted, to engender doubt and suspense
of judgment, which is their end. They only put forward their propositions
to contend with those they think we have in our belief. If you take their
arguments, they will as readily maintain the contrary; 'tis all one to
them, they have no choice. If you maintain that snow is black, they will
argue on the contrary that it is white; if you say it is neither the one
nor the other, they will maintain that it is both. If you hold, of certain
judgment, that you know nothing, they will maintain that you do. Yea, and
if by an affirmative axiom you assure them that you doubt, they will argue
against you that you doubt not; or that you cannot judge and determine
that you doubt. And by this extremity of doubt, which jostles itself, they
separate and divide themselves from many opinions, even of those they have
several ways maintained, both concerning doubt and ignorance. "Why shall
not they be allowed to doubt," say they, "as well as the dogmatists, one
of whom says green, another yellow? Can any thing be proposed to us to
grant, or deny, which it shall not be permitted to consider as ambiguous?"
And where others are carried away, either by the custom of their country,
or by the instruction of parents, or by accident, as by a tempest, without
judgment and without choice, nay, and for the most part before the age of
discretion, to such and such an opinion, to the sect whether Stoic or
Epicurean, with which they are prepossessed, enslaved, and fast bound, as
to a thing they cannot forsake: <i>Ad quamcumque disciplinant, velut
tempestate, delati, ad earn, tanquam ad saxum, adhorescunt;</i> "every one
cleaves to the doctrine he has happened upon, as to a rock against which
he has been thrown by tempest;" why shall not these likewise be permitted
to maintain their liberty, and consider things without obligation or
slavery? <i>hoc liberiores et solutiores, quod integra illis est judicandi
potestas</i>: "in this more unconstrained and free, because they have the
greater power of judging." Is it not of some advantage to be disengaged
from the necessity that curbs others? Is it not better to remain in
suspense than to entangle one's self in the innumerable errors that human
fancy has produced? Is it not much better to suspend one's persuasion than
to intermeddle with these wrangling and seditious divisions: "What shall I
choose?" "What you please, provided you will choose." A very foolish
answer; but such a one, nevertheless, as all dogmatism seems to point at,
and by which we are not permitted to be ignorant of what we are ignorant
of.</p>
<p>Take the most eminent side, that of the greatest reputation; it will never
be so sure that you shall not be forced to attack and contend with a
hundred and a hundred adversaries to defend it. Is it not better to keep
out of this hurly-burly? You are permitted to embrace Aristotle's opinions
of the immortality of the soul with as much zeal as your honour and life,
and to give the lie to Plato thereupon, and shall they be interdicted to
doubt him? If it be lawful for Pantius to maintain his opinion about
augury, dreams, oracles, vaticinations, of which the Stoics made no doubt
at all; why may not a wise man dare to do the same in all things that he
dared to do in those he had learned of his masters, established by the
common consent of the school, whereof he is a professor and a member? If
it be a child that judges, he knows not what it is; if a wise man, he is
prepossessed. They have reserved for themselves a marvellous advantage in
battle, having eased themselves of the care of defence. If you strike
them, they care not, provided they strike too, and they turn every thing
to their own use. If they overcome, your argument is lame; if you, theirs;
if they fall short, they verify ignorance; if you fall short, you do it;
if they prove that nothing is known, 'tis well; if they cannot prove it,
'tis also well: <i>Ut quurn in eadem re paria contrariis in partibus
momenta inveniuntur, facilius ab utraque parte assertio sustineatur:</i>
"That when like sentiments happen <i>pro</i> and <i>con</i> in the same
thing, the assent may on both sides be more easily suspended." And they
make account to find out, with much greater facility, why a thing is
false, than why 'tis true; that which is not, than that which is; and what
they do not believe, than what they do. Their way of speaking is: "I
assert nothing; it is no more so than so, or than neither one nor t'other;
I understand it not. Appearances are everywhere equal; the law of
speaking, <i>pro</i> or <i>con</i>, is the same. Nothing seems true, that
may not seem false." Their sacramental word is that is to say, "I hold, I
stir not." This is the burden of their song, and others of like stuff. The
effect of which is a pure, entire, perfect, and absolute suspension of
judgment. They make use of their reason to inquire and debate, but not to
fix and determine. Whoever shall imagine a perpetual confession of
ignorance, a judgment without bias, propension, or inclination, upon any
occasion whatever, conceives a true idea of Pyrrhonism. I express this
fancy as well as I can, by reason that many find it hard to conceive, and
the authors themselves represent it a little variously and obscurely.</p>
<p>As to what concerns the actions of life, they are in this of the common
fashion. They yield and give up themselves to their natural inclinations,
to the power and impulse of passions, to the constitution of laws and
customs, and to the tradition of arts; <i>Non enim nos Deus ista scire,
sed tantummodo uti, voluit.</i> "For God would not have us know, but only
use those things." They suffer their ordinary actions to be guided by
those things, without any dispute or judgment. For which reason I cannot
consent to what is said of Pyrrho, by those who represent him heavy and
immovable, leading a kind of savage and unsociable life, standing the
jostle of carts, going upon the edge of precipices, and refusing to
accommodate himself to the laws. This is to enhance upon his discipline;
he would never make himself a stock or a stone, he would show himself a
living man, discoursing, reasoning, enjoying all reasonable conveniences
and pleasures, employing and making use of all his corporal and spiritual
faculties in rule and reason. The fantastic, imaginary, and false
privileges that man had usurped of lording it, ordaining, and
establishing, he has utterly quitted and renounced. Yet there is no sect
but is constrained to permit her sage to follow several things not
comprehended, perceived, or consented to, if he means to live. And if he
goes to sea, he follows that design, not knowing whether his voyage shall
be successful or no; and only insists upon the tightness of the vessel,
the experience of the pilot, and the convenience of the season, and such
probable circumstances; after which he is bound to go, and suffer himself
to be governed by appearances, provided there be no express and manifest
contrariety in them. He has a body, he has a soul; the senses push them,
the mind spurs them on. And although he does not find in himself this
proper and singular sign of judging, and that he perceives that he ought
not to engage his consent, considering that there may be some false, equal
to these true appearances, yet does he not, for all that, fail of carrying
on the offices of his life with great liberty and convenience. How many
arts are there that profess to consist more in conjecture than knowledge;
that decide not on true and false, and only follow that which seems so!
There are, say they, true and false, and we have in us wherewith to seek
it; but not to make it stay when we touch it. We are much more prudent, in
letting ourselves be regulated by the order of the world, without inquiry.
A soul clear from prejudice has a marvellous advance towards tranquillity
and repose. Men that judge and control their judges, do never duly submit
to them.</p>
<p>How much more docile and easy to be governed, both by the laws of religion
and civil polity, are simple and incurious minds, than those over-vigilant
wits, that will still be prating of divine and human causes! There is
nothing in human invention that carries so great a show of likelihood and
utility as this; this presents man, naked and empty, confessing his
natural weakness, fit to receive some foreign force from above,
unfurnished of human, and therefore more apt to receive into him the
divine knowledge, making nought of his own judgment, to give more room to
faith; neither disbelieving nor establishing any dogma against common
observances; humble, obedient, disciplinable, and studious; a sworn enemy
of heresy; and consequently freeing himself from vain and irreligious
opinions, introduced by false sects. 'Tis a blank paper prepared to
receive such forms from the finger of God as he shall please to write upon
it. The more we resign and commit ourselves to God, and the more we
renounce ourselves, of the greater value we are. "Take in good part," says
Ecclesiastes, "the things that present themselves to thee, as they seem
and taste from hand to mouth; the rest is out of thy knowledge." <i>Dominus
novit cogitationes hominum, quoniam van sunt</i>: "The Lord knoweth the
hearts of men, that they are but vanity."</p>
<p>Thus we see that of the three general sects of philosophy, two make open
profession of doubt and ignorance; and in that of the Dogmatists, which is
the third, it is easy to discover that the greatest part of them only
assume this face of confidence and assurance that</p>
<p>they may produce the better effect; they have not so much thought to
establish any certainty for us, as to show us how far they have proceeded
in their search of truth: <i>Quam docti jingunt magis quam nrunt</i>:
"Which the learned rather feign than know." Timus, being to instruct
Socrates in what he knew of the gods, the world, and men, proposes to
speak to him as a man to a man; and that it is sufficient, if his reasons
are probable as those of another; for that exact reasons were neither in
his nor any other mortal hand; which one of his followers has thus
imitated: <i>Ut potero, explicabo: nec tamen, ut Pythius Apollo, certa ut
sint et fixa qu dixero; sed, ut homunculus, probabilia conjectur
sequens:</i> "I will, as well as I am able, explain; affirming, yet not as
the Pythian oracle, that what I say is fixed and certain, but like a mere
man, that follows probabilities by conjecture." And this, upon the natural
and common subject of the contempt of death; he has elsewhere translated
from the very words of Plato: <i>Si forte, de Deorum natur ortuque mundi
disserentes, minus id quod habemiis in animo consequi-mur, haud erit
mirum; oquum est enim meminisse, et me, qui disseram, hominem esse, et
vos, qui judicetis, ut, si probabilia dicentur, nihil ultra requiratis?</i>
"If perchance, when we discourse of the nature of God, and the world's
original, we cannot do it as we desire, it will be no great wonder. For it
is just you should remember that both I who speak and you who are to
judge, are men; so that if probable things are delivered, you shall
require and expect no more." Aristotle ordinarily heaps up a great number
of other men's opinions and beliefs, to compare them with his own, and to
let us see how much he has gone beyond them, and how much nearer he
approaches to the likelihood of truth; for truth is not to be judged by
the authority and testimony of others; which made Epicurus religiously
avoid quoting them in his writings. This is the prince of all dogmatists,
and yet we are told by him that the more we know the more we have room for
doubt. In earnest, we sometimes see him shroud and muffle up himself in so
thick and so inextricable an obscurity that we know not what to make of
his advice; it is, in effect, a Pyrrhonism under a resolutive form. Hear
Cicero's protestation, who expounds to us another's fancy by his own: <i>Qui
requirunt quid de quque re ipsi sentiamus, curiosius id faciunt quam
necesse est,... Hoc in philosophi ratio, contra omnia disserendi,
nuttamque rem aperte judicandi, profecta a Socrate, repetita ab Arcesila,
conjirmata a Gameade, usqu ad nostram viget cetatem..........Hi sumus,
qui omnibus veris falsa quodam adjuncta esse dicamus, tanta similitudine,
ut in iis nulla insit certe judicandi et assentiendi nota.</i> "They who
desire to know what we think of every thing are therein more inquisitive
than is necessary. This practice in philosophy of disputing against every
thing, and of absolutely concluding nothing, begun by Socrates, repeated
by Arcesilaus, and confirmed by Cameades, has continued in use even to our
own times. We are they who declare that there is so great a mixture of
things false amongst all that are true, and they so resemble one another,
that there can be in them no certain mark to direct us either to judge or
assent." Why hath not Aristotle only, but most of the philosophers,
affected difficulty, if not to set a greater value upon the vanity of the
subject, and amuse the curiosity of our minds by giving them this hollow
and fleshless bone to pick? Clitomachus affirmed "That he could never
discover by Carneades's writings what opinion he was of." This was it that
made Epicurus affect to be abstruse, and that procured Heraclitus the
epithet of [—Greek—] Difficulty is a coin the learned make use
of, like jugglers, to conceal the vanity of their art, and which human
sottishness easily takes for current pay.</p>
<p>Claras, ob obscuram linguam, magis inter manes...<br/>
Omnia enim stolidi magis admirantur amantque<br/>
Inversis qu sub verbis latitantia cemunt.<br/>
<br/>
"Bombast and riddle best do puppies please,<br/>
For fools admire and love such things as these;<br/>
And a dull quibble, wrapt in dubious phrase,<br/>
Up to the height doth their wise wonder raise."<br/></p>
<p>Cicero reprehends some of his friends for giving more of their time to the
study of astrology, logic, and geometry, than they were really worth;
saying that they were by these diverted from the duties of life, and more
profitable and proper studies. The Cyrenaick philosophers, in like manner,
despised physics and logic. Zeno, in the very beginning of the books of
the commonwealth, declared all the liberal arts of no use. Chrysippus said
"That what Plato and Aristotle had writ, concerning logic, they had only
done in sport, and by way of exercise;" and could not believe that they
spoke in earnest of so vain a thing. Plutarch says the same of
metaphysics. And Epicurus would have said as much of rhetoric, grammar,
poetry, mathematics, and, natural philosophy excepted, of all the
sciences; and Socrates of them all, excepting that which treats of manners
and of life. Whatever any one required to be instructed in, by him, he
would ever, in the first place, demand an account of the conditions of his
life present and past, which he examined and judged, esteeming all other
learning subsequent to that and supernumerary: <i>Parum mihi placeant e
littero quo ad virtutem doctoribus nihil pro-fuerunt.</i> "That learning
is in small repute with me which nothing profited the teachers themselves
to virtue." Most of the arts have been in like manner decried by the same
knowledge; but they did not consider that it was from the purpose to
exercise their wits in those very matters wherein there was no solid
advantage.</p>
<p>As to the rest, some have looked upon Plato as a dogmatist, others as a
doubter, others in some things the one, and in other things the other.
Socrates, the conductor of his dialogues, is eternally upon questions and
stirring up disputes, never determining, never satisfying, and professes
to have no other science but that of opposing himself. Homer, their
author, has equally laid the foundations of all the sects of philosophy,
to show how indifferent it was which way we should choose. 'Tis said that
ten several sects sprung from Plato; yet, in my opinion, never did any
instruction halt and stumble, if his does not.</p>
<p>Socrates said that midwives, in taking upon them the trade of helping
others to bring forth, left the trade of bringing forth themselves; and
that by the title of a wise man or sage, which the gods had conferred upon
him, he was disabled, in his virile and mental love, of the faculty of
bringing forth, contenting himself to help and assist those that could; to
open their nature, anoint the passes, and facilitate their birth; to judge
of the infant, baptize, nourish, fortify, swath, and circumcise it,
exercising and employing his understanding in the perils and fortunes of
others.</p>
<p>It is so with the most part of this third sort of authors, as the ancients
have observed in the writings of Anaxagoras, Democritus, Parmenides,
Xenophanes, and others. They have a way of writing, doubtful in substance
and design, rather inquiring than teaching, though they mix their style
with some dogmatical periods. Is not the same thing seen in Seneca and
Plutarch? How many contradictions are there to be found if a man pry
narrowly into them! So many that the reconciling lawyers ought first to
reconcile them every one to themselves. Plato seems to have affected this
method of philosophizing in dialogues; to the end that he might with
greater decency, from several mouths, deliver the diversity and variety of
his own fancies. It is as well to treat variously of things as to treat of
them conformably, and better, that is to say, more copiously and with
greater profit. Let us take example from ourselves: judgments are the
utmost point of all dogmatical and determinative speaking; and yet those
<i>arrets</i> that our parliaments give the people, the most exemplary of
them, and those most proper to nourish in them the reverence due to that
dignity, principally through the sufficiency of the persons acting, derive
their beauty not so much from the conclusion, which with them is quotidian
and common to every judge, as from the dispute and heat of divers and
contrary arguments that the matter of law and equity will permit And the
largest field for reprehension that some philosophers have against others
is drawn from the diversities and contradictions wherein every one of them
finds himself perplexed, either on purpose to show the vacillation of the
human mind concerning every thing, or ignorantly compelled by the
volubility and incomprehensibility of all matter; which is the meaning of
the maxim—"In a slippery and sliding place let us suspend our
belief;" for, as Euripides says,—</p>
<p>"God's various works perplex the thoughts of men."<br/></p>
<p>Like that which Empedocles, as if transported with a divine fury, and
compelled by truth, often strewed here and there in his writings: "No, no,
we feel nothing, we see nothing; all things are concealed from us; there
is not one thing of which we can positively say what it is;" according to
the divine saying: <i>Cogitationes mortalium timid, et incert
adinventiones nostro et providentice.</i> "For the thoughts of mortal men
are doubtful; and our devices are but uncertain." It is not to be thought
strange if men, despairing to overtake what they hunt after, have not
however lost the pleasure of the chase; study being of itself so pleasant
an employment; and so pleasant that amongst the pleasures, the Stoics
forbid that also which proceeds from the exercise of the mind, will have
it curbed, and find a kind of intemperance in too much knowledge.</p>
<p>Democritus having eaten figs at his table that tasted of honey, fell
presently to considering with himself whence they should derive this
unusual sweetness; and to be satisfied in it, was about to rise from the
table to see the place whence the figs had been gathered; which his maid
observing, and having understood the cause, smilingly told him that "he
need not trouble himself about that, for she had put them into a vessel in
which there had been honey." He was vexed at this discovery, and that she
had deprived him of the occasion of this inquiry, and robbed his curiosity
of matter to work upon: "Go thy way," said he, "thou hast done me an
injury; but, for all that, I will seek out the cause as if it were
natural;" and would willingly have found out some true reason for a false
and imaginary effect. This story of a famous and great philosopher very
clearly represents to us that studious passion that puts us upon the
pursuit of things, of the acquisition of which we despair. Plutarch gives
a like example of some one who would not be satisfied in that whereof he
was in doubt, that he might not lose the pleasure of inquiring into it;
like the other who would not that his physician should allay the thirst of
his fever, that he might not lose the pleasure of quenching it by
drinking. <i>Satius est supervacua discere, quam nihil.</i> "'Tis better
to learn more than necessary than nothing at all." As in all sorts of
feeding, the pleasure of eating is very often single and alone, and that
what we take, which is acceptable to the palate, is not always nourishing
or wholesome; so that which our minds extract from science does not cease
to be pleasant, though there be nothing in it either nutritive or
healthful. Thus they say: "The consideration of nature is a diet proper
for our minds, it raises and elevates us, makes us disdain low and
terrestrial things, by comparing them with those that are celestial and
high. The mere inquisition into great and occult things is very pleasant,
even to those who acquire no other benefit than the reverence and fear of
judging it." This is what they profess. The vain image of this sickly
curiosity is yet more manifest in this other example which they so often
urge. "Eudoxus wished and begged of the gods that he might once see the
sun near at hand, to comprehend the form, greatness, and beauty of it;
even though he should thereby be immediately burned." He would at the
price of his life purchase a knowledge, of which the use and possession
should at the same time be taken from him; and for this sudden and
vanishing knowledge lose all the other knowledge he had in present, or
might afterwards have acquired.</p>
<p>I cannot easily persuade myself that Epicurus, Plato, and Pytagoras, have
given us their atom, idea and numbers, for current pay. They were too wise
to establish their articles of faith upon things so disputable and
uncertain. But in that obscurity and ignorance in which the world then
was, every one of these great men endeavoured to present some kind of
image or reflection of light, and worked their brains for inventions that
might have a pleasant and subtle appearance; provided that, though false,
they might make good their ground against those that would oppose them. <i>Unicuique
ista pro ingenio finguntur, non ex scienti vi.</i> "These things every
one fancies according to his wit, and not by any power of knowledge."</p>
<p>One of the ancients, who was reproached, "That he professed philosophy, of
which he nevertheless in his own judgment made no great account," made
answer, "That this was truly to philosophize."</p>
<p>They wished to consider all, to balance every thing, and found that an
employment well suited to our natural curiosity. Some things they wrote
for the benefit of public society, as their religions; and for that
consideration it was but reasonable that they should not examine public
opinions to the quick, that they might not disturb the common obedience to
the laws and customs of their country.</p>
<p>Plato treats of this mystery with a raillery manifest enough; for where he
writes according to his own method he gives no certain rule. When he plays
the legislator he borrows a magisterial and positive style, and boldly
there foists in his most fantastic inventions, as fit to persuade the
vulgar, as impossible to be believed by himself; knowing very well how fit
we are to receive all sorts of impressions, especially the most immoderate
and preposterous; and yet, in his <i>Laws</i>, he takes singular care that
nothing be sung in public but poetry, of which the fiction and fabulous
relations tend to some advantageous end; it being so easy to imprint all
sorts of phantasms in human minds, that it were injustice not to feed them
rather with profitable untruths than with untruths that are unprofitable
and hurtful. He says very roundly, in his <i>Republic,</i> "That it is
often necessary, for the benefit of men, to deceive them." It is very easy
to distinguish that some of the sects have more followed truth, and the
others utility, by which the last have gained their reputation. 'Tis the
misery of our condition that often that which presents itself to our
imagination for the truest does not appear the most useful to life. The
boldest sects, as the Epicurean, Pyrrhonian, and the new Academic, are yet
constrained to submit to the civil law at the end of the account.</p>
<p>There are other subjects that they have tumbled and tossed about, some to
the right and others to the left, every one endeavouring, right or wrong,
to give them some kind of colour; for, having found nothing so abstruse
that they would not venture to speak of, they are very often forced to
forge weak and ridiculous conjectures; not that they themselves looked
upon them as any foundation, or establishing any certain truth, but merely
for exercise. <i>Non tam id sensisse quod dicerent, quam exercere ingnia
materio difficultate videntur voluisse.</i> "They seem not so much
themselves to have believed what they said, as to have had a mind to
exercise their wits in the difficulty of the matter." And if we did not
take it thus, how should we palliate so great inconstancy, variety, and
vanity of opinions, as we see have been produced by those excellent and
admirable men? As, for example, what can be more vain than to imagine, to
guess at God, by our analogies and conjectures? To direct and govern him
and the world by our capacities and our laws? And to serve ourselves, at
the expense of the divinity, with what small portion of capacity he has
been pleased to impart to our natural condition; and because we cannot
extend our sight to his glorious throne, to have brought him down to our
corruption and our miseries?</p>
<p>Of all human and ancient opinions concerning religion, that seems to me
the most likely and most excusable, that acknowledged God as an
incomprehensible power, the original and preserver of all things, all
goodness, all perfection, receiving and taking in good part the honour and
reverence that man paid him, under what method, name, or ceremonies soever—</p>
<p>Jupiter omnipotens, rerum, regumque, demque,<br/>
Progenitor, genitrixque.<br/>
<br/>
"Jove, the almighty, author of all things,<br/>
The father, mother, of both gods and kings."<br/></p>
<p>This zeal has universally been looked upon from heaven with a gracious
eye. All governments have reaped fruit from their devotion; impious men
and actions have everywhere had suitable events. Pagan histories
acknowledge dignity, order, justice, prodigies, and oracles, employed for
their profit and instruction in their fabulous religions; God, through his
mercy, vouchsafing, by these temporal benefits, to cherish the tender
principles of a kind of brutish knowledge that natural reason gave them of
him, through the deceiving images of their dreams. Not only deceiving and
false, but impious also and injurious, are those that man has forged from
his own invention: and of all the religions that St. Paul found in repute
at Athens, that which they had dedicated "to the unknown God" seemed to
him the most to be excused.</p>
<p>Pythagoras shadowed the truth a little more closely, judging that the
knowledge of this first cause and being of beings ought to be indefinite,
without limitation, without declaration; that it was nothing else than the
extreme effort of our imagination towards perfection, every one amplifying
the idea according to the talent of his capacity. But if Numa attempted to
conform the devotion of his people to this project; to attach them to a
religion purely mental, without any prefixed object and material mixture,
he undertook a thing of no use; the human mind could never support itself
floating in such an infinity of inform thoughts; there is required some
certain image to be presented according to its own model. The divine
majesty has thus, in some sort, suffered himself to be circumscribed in
corporal limits for our advantage. His supernatural and celestial
sacraments have signs of our earthly condition; his adoration is by
sensible offices and words; for 'tis man that believes and prays. I shall
omit the other arguments upon this subject; but a man would have much ado
to make me believe that the sight of our crucifixes, that the picture of
our Saviour's passion, that the ornaments and ceremonious motions of our
churches, that the voices accommodated to the devotion of our thoughts,
and that emotion of the senses, do not warm the souls of the people with a
religious passion of very advantageous effect.</p>
<p>Of those to whom they have given a body, as necessity required in that
universal blindness, I should, I fancy, most incline to those who adored
the sun:—</p>
<p>La Lumire commune,<br/>
L'oil du monde; et si Dieu au chef porte des yeux,<br/>
Les rayons du soleil sont ses yeulx radieux,<br/>
Qui donnent vie touts, nous maintiennent et gardent,<br/>
Et les faictsdes humains en ce monde regardent:<br/>
Ce beau, ce grand soleil qui nous faict les saisons,<br/>
Selon qu'il entre ou sort de ses douze maisons;<br/>
Qui remplit l'univers de ses vertus cognues;<br/>
Qui d'un traict de ses yeulx nous dissipe les nues;<br/>
L'esprit, l'ame du monde, ardent et flamboyant,<br/>
En la course d'un jour tout le Ciel tournoyant;<br/>
Plein d'immense grandeur, rond, vagabond, et ferme;<br/>
Lequel tient dessoubs luy tout le monde pour terme:<br/>
En repos, sans repos; oysif, et sans sjour;<br/>
Fils aisn de nature, et le pre du jour:<br/>
<br/>
"The common light that equal shines on all,<br/>
Diffused around the whole terrestrial ball;<br/>
And, if the almighty Ruler of the skies<br/>
Has eyes, the sunbeams are his radiant eyes,<br/>
That life and safety give to young and old,<br/>
And all men's actions upon earth behold.<br/>
This great, this beautiful, the glorious sun,<br/>
Who makes their course the varied seasons run;<br/>
That with his virtues fills the universe,<br/>
And with one glance can sullen clouds disperse;<br/>
Earth's life and soul, that, flaming in his sphere,<br/>
Surrounds the heavens in one day's career;<br/>
Immensely great, moving yet firm and round,<br/>
Who the whole world below has made his bound;<br/>
At rest, without rest, idle without stay,<br/>
Nature's first son, and father of the day:"<br/></p>
<p>forasmuch as, beside this grandeur and beauty of his, 'tis the only piece
of this machine that we discover at the remotest distance from us; and by
that means so little known that they were pardonable for entering into so
great admiration and reverence of it.</p>
<p>Thales, who first inquired into this sort of matter, believed God to be a
Spirit that made all things of water; Anaximander, that the gods were
always dying and entering into life again; and that there were an infinite
number of worlds; Anaximines, that the air was God, that he was procreate
and immense, always moving. Anaxagoras the first, was of opinion that the
description and manner of all things were conducted by the power and
reason of an infinite spirit. Alcmon gave divinity to the sun, moon, and
stars, and to the soul. Pythagoras made God a spirit, spread over the
nature of all things, whence our souls are extracted; Parmenides, a circle
surrounding the heaven, and supporting the world by the ardour of light.
Empedocles pronounced the four elements, of which all things are composed,
to be gods; Protagoras had nothing to say, whether they were or were not,
or what they were; Democritus was one while of opinion that the images and
their circuitions were gods; another while, the nature that darts out
those images; and then, our science and intelligence. Plato divides his
belief into several opinions; he says, in his <i>Timus</i>, that the
Father of the World cannot be named; in his Laws, that men are not to
inquire into his being; and elsewhere, in the very same books, he makes
the world, the heavens, the stars, the earth, and our souls, gods;
admitting, moreover, those which have been received by ancient institution
in every republic.</p>
<p>Xenophon reports a like perplexity in Socrates's doctrine; one while that
men are not to inquire into the form of God, and presently makes him
maintain that the sun is God, and the soul God; that there is but one God,
and then that there are many. Speusippus, the nephew of Plato, makes God a
certain power governing all things, and that he has a soul. Aristotle one
while says it is the spirit, and another the world; one while he gives the
world another master, and another while makes God the heat of heaven.
Zenocrates makes eight, five named amongst the planets; the sixth composed
of all the fixed stars, as of so many members; the seventh and eighth, the
sun and moon. Heraclides Ponticus does nothing but float in his opinion,
and finally deprives God of sense, and makes him shift from one form to
another, and at last says that it is heaven and earth. Theophrastus
wanders in the same irresolution amongst his fancies, attributing the
superintendency of the world one while to the understanding, another while
to heaven, and then to the stars. Strato says that 'tis nature, she having
the power of generation, augmentation, and diminution, without form and
sentiment Zeno says 'tis the law of nature, commanding good and
prohibiting evil; which law is an animal; and takes away the accustomed
gods, Jupiter, Juno, and Vesta. Diogenes Apolloniates, that 'tis air.
Zenophanes makes God round, seeing and hearing, not breathing, and having
nothing in common with human nature. Aristo thinks the form of God to be
incomprehensible, deprives him of sense, and knows not whether he be an
animal or something else; Cleanthes, one while supposes it to be reason,
another while the world, another the soul of nature, and then the supreme
heat rolling about, and environing all. Perseus, Zeno's disciple, was of
opinion that men have given the title of gods to such as have been useful,
and have added any notable advantage to human life, and even to profitable
things themselves. Chrysippus made a confused heap of all the preceding
theories, and reckons, amongst a thousand forms of gods that he makes, the
men also that have been deified. Diagoras and Theodoras flatly denied that
there were any gods at all. Epicurus makes the gods shining, transparent,
and perflable, lodged as betwixt two forts, betwixt two worlds, secure
from blows, clothed in a human figure, and with such members as we have;
which members are to them of no use:—</p>
<p>Ego Deum genus esse semper duxi, et dicam colitum;<br/>
Sed eos non curare opinor quid agat humanum genus.<br/>
<br/>
"I ever thought that gods above there were,<br/>
But do not think they care what men do here."<br/></p>
<p>Trust to your philosophy, my masters; and brag that you have found the
bean in the cake when you see what a rattle is here with so many
philosophical heads! The perplexity of so many worldly forms has gained
this over me, that manners and opinions contrary to mine do not so much
displease as instruct me; nor so much make me proud as they humble me, in
comparing them. And all other choice than what comes from the express and
immediate hand of God seems to me a choice of very little privilege. The
policies of the world are no less opposite upon this subject than the
schools, by which we may understand that fortune itself is not more
variable and inconstant, nor more blind and inconsiderate, than our
reason. The things that are most unknown are most proper to be deified;
wherefore to make gods of ourselves, as the ancients did, exceeds the
extremest weakness of understanding. I would much rather have gone along
with those who adored the serpent, the dog, or the ox; forasmuch as their
nature and being is less known to us, and that we have more room to
imagine what we please of those beasts, and to attribute to them
extraordinary faculties. But to have made gods of our own condition, of
whom we ought to know the imperfections; and to have attributed to them
desire, anger, revenge, marriages, generation, alliances, love, jealousy,
our members and bones, our fevers and pleasures, our death and obsequies;
this must needs have proceeded from a marvellous inebriety of the human
understanding;</p>
<p>Qu procul usque adeo divino ab numine distant,<br/>
Inque Dem numro qu sint indigna videri;<br/>
<br/>
"From divine natures these so distant are,<br/>
They are unworthy of that character."<br/></p>
<p><i>Formo, otates, vestitus, omatus noti sunt; genera, conjugia,
cognationes, omniaque traducta ad similitudinem imbellitar tis humano: nam
et perturbatis animis inducuntur; accipimus enim deorurn cupiditates,
cegritudines, iracundias</i>; "Their forms, ages, clothes, and ornaments
are known: their descents, marriages, and kindred, and all adapted to the
similitude of human weakness; for they are represented to us with anxious
minds, and we read of the lusts, sickness, and anger of the gods;" as
having attributed divinity not only to faith, virtue, honour, concord,
liberty, victory, and piety; but also to voluptuousness, fraud, death,
envy, old age, misery; to fear, fever, ill fortune, and other injuries of
our frail and transitory life:—</p>
<p>Quid juvat hoc, templis nostros inducere mores?<br/>
O curv in terris anim et colestium inanes!<br/>
<br/>
"O earth-born souls! by earth-born passions led,<br/>
To every spark of heav'nly influence dead!<br/>
Think ye that what man values will inspire<br/>
In minds celestial the same base desire?"<br/></p>
<p>The Egyptians, with an impudent prudence, interdicted, upon pain of
hanging, that any one should say that their gods, Serapis and Isis, had
formerly been men; and yet no one was ignorant that they had been such;
and their effigies, represented with the finger upon the mouth, signified,
says Varro, that mysterious decree to their priests, to conceal their
mortal original, as it must by necessary consequence cancel all the
veneration paid to them. Seeing that man so much desired to equal himself
to God, he had done better, says Cicero, to have attracted those divine
conditions to himself, and drawn them down hither below, than to send his
corruption and misery up on high; but, to take it right, he has several
ways done both the one and the other, with like vanity of opinion.</p>
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