slowly, and is without transportation, and often hindered, and never hasty, and is full of mercy: prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of our thoughts, the evenness of recollection, the seat of meditation, the rest of our cares, and the calm of our tempest: prayer is the issue of a quiet mind, of untroubled thoughts; it is the daughter of charity, and the sister of meekness; and he that prays to God with an angry, that is, with a troubled and discomposed spirit, is like him that retires into a battle to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out-quarters of an army, and chooses a frontier garrison to be wise in. Anger is a perfect alienation of the mind from prayer, and therefore is contrary to that attention which presents our prayers in a right line to God. For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds; but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings, till the little creature was forced to sit down, and pant, and stay till the storm was over; and then it made a prosperous flight, and did rise and sing, as if it had learned music and motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the air, about his ministries here below. So is the prayer of a good man: when his affairs have required business, and his business was matter of discipline, and his discipline was to pass upon a sinning person, or had a design of charity, his duty met with the infirmities of a man, and anger was its instrument; and the instrument became stronger than the prime agent, and raised a tempest, and overruled the man; and then his prayer was broken, and his thoughts were troubled, and his words went up towards a cloud; and his thoughts pulled them back again, and made them without intention; and the good man sighs for his infirmity, but must be content to lose that prayer, and he must recover it when his anger is removed, and his spirit is becalmed, made even as the brow of Jesus, and smooth like the heart of God; and then it ascends to heaven upon the wings of the holy dove, and dwells with God, till it returns, like the useful bee, loaden with a blessing and the dew of heaven. SIR THOMAS BROWNE. He was educated at Win- Sir Thomas Browne was born in London, October 19, 1605. chester School, and afterwards at Pembroke College, Oxford. elled on the continent, studied medicine at Montpellier and Padua, and took his degree of doctor of physic at Leyden, in Holland. Many events of his life are in obscurity; and conjecture must be relied upon in many important matters. His first work, Religio Medici, - the Religion of a Physician, - is supposed to have been written in 1634; it was read extensively in manuscript, and was printed (probably without the author's consent) in 1642. In 1646 appeared his famous treatise, Enquiries into Vulgar Errors. The discovery of Roman urns in Norfolk was the occasion of his writing a learned essay on Urn Burial, in 1658. He wrote also a treatise on Christian Morals, and several posthumous papers. He was a zealous royalist, and received the honor of knighthood from Charles II. He was happily married; but of his numerous children, only four survived him. He died October 19, 1682. The male line in descent from him was soon extinct; but in the female line he had distinguished inheritors of his blood, among whom was the famous Lord Erskine. He had a clear and powerful intellect, scholarly tastes, and a singularly well-balanced judgment. But it is a noticeable fact that the assailant of Vulgar Errors should have lent the weight of his great professional reputation as an expert against two miserable women, tried and convicted before Sir Matthew Hale for witchcraft - the last victims of that superstition in England. It is a further check to the pride of scientific men that he was among the upholders of the Ptolemaic system of astronomy. In fact, an edition of his exposure of Vulgar Errors would require more notes than the text itself to make it conform to the present state of knowledge. His style is Latinized to a painful degree. If a word is wanted, he coins one; and few, except accomplished Latin scholars, can read the simplest of his productions without a lexicon at hand. But his reading was so extensive, his illustrations so ready and apt, his thought so clear, and his moral tone so high, that, with all the errors of fact, and the frequent obscurity of expression, his works are still cherished by scholars, and his name is fairly inscribed among the classic authors of England. When the characteristics of the author and of his learned style are considered, it will appear quite appropriate that his life should have been written, and his works annotated by the antithetic and pedantic Dr. Johnson. Behind every formally-poised sentence the reader can hear the elephantine tread of the great lexicographer. [From Christian Morals.] BE substantially great in thyself, and more than thou appearest unto others; and let the world be deceived in thee, as they are in the lights of heaven. Hang early plummets upon the heels of pride, and let ambition have but an epicycle and narrow circuit in thee. Measure not thyself by thy morning shadow, but by the extent of thy grave: and reckon thyself above the earth, by the line thou must be contented with under it. Spread not into boundless expansions either of designs or desires. Think not that mankind liveth but for 1 An epicycle is a small revolution made by one planet in the wider orbit of another planet. The meaning is, "Let not ambition form thy circle of action, but move upon other principles; and let ambition only operate as something extrinsic and adventitious." - Dr. J. a few; and that the rest are born but to serve those ambitions, which make but flies of men, and wildernesses of whole nations. Swell not into vehement actions which imbroil and confound the earth; but be one of those violent ones which force the kingdom of heaven. If thou must needs rule, be Zeno's king, and enjoy that empire which every man gives himself. He who is thus his own monarch contentedly sways the sceptre of himself, not envying the glory of crowned heads and elohims of the earth. Could the world unite in the practice of that despised train of virtues which the divine ethics of our Saviour hath so inculcated upon us, the furious face of things must disappear: Eden would be yet to be found, and the angels might look down, not with pity, but joy upon us. If thy vessel be but small in the ocean of this world, if meanness of possessions be thy allotment upon earth, forget not those virtues which the great Disposer of all bids thee to entertain from thy quality and condition; that is, submission, humility, content of mind, and industry. Content may dwell in all stations. To be low, but above contempt, may be high enough to be happy. But many of low degree may be higher than computed, and some cubits above the common commensuration; for in all states, virtue gives qualifications and allowances, which make out defects. Rough diamonds are sometimes mistaken for pebbles; and meanness may be rich in accomplishments, which riches in vain desire. If our merits be above our stations, if our intrinsical value be greater than what we go for, or our value than our valuation, and if we stand higher in God's than in the censor's book, it may make some equitable balance in the inequalities of this world, and there may be no such vast chasm or gulf between disparities as common measures determine. The divine eye looks upon high and low differently from that of man. They who seem to stand upon Olympus, and high mounted unto our eyes, may be but in the valleys and low ground unto his; for he looks upon those as highest who nearest approach his divinity, and upon those as lowest who are farthest from it. Value the judicious, and let not mere acquests in minor parts of learning gain thy pre-existimation. 'Tis an unjust way of compute, to magnify a weak head for some Latin abilities; and to undervalue 1 That is, "the king of the Stoics," whose founder was Zeno, and who held that the wise man alone had power and royalty. - Dr. J. 2 An error in form, since elohim is plural, like cherubim. It is from the Hebrew, and signifies "the lords," or "the gods." 3 The book in which the census, or account of every man's estate, was registered among the Romans. - Dr. J. a solid judgment, because he knows not the genealogy of Hector. When that notable king of France would have his son to know but one sentence in Latin, had it been a good one, perhaps it had been enough. Natural parts and good judgments rule the world. States are not governed by ergotisms. Many have ruled well, who could not, perhaps, define a commonwealth; and they who understand not the globe of the earth, command a great part of it. Where natural logic prevails not, artificial too often faileth. Where nature fills the sails, the vessel goes smoothly on; and when judgment is the pilot, the insurance need not be high. When industry builds upon nature, we may expect pyramids: where that foundation is wanting, the structure must be low. They do most by books, who could do much without them; and he that chiefly owes himself unto himself, is the substantial man. [From Religio Medici.] THUS there are two books from whence I collect my divinity. Besides that written one of God, another of his servant, nature, that universal and public manuscript, that lies expansed unto the eyes of all. Those that never saw him in the one have discovered him in the other: this was the scripture and theology of the heathens; the natural motion of the sun made them more admire him than its supernatural station did the children of Israel. The ordinary effects of nature wrought more admiration in them than, in the other, all his miracles. Surely the heathens knew better how to join and read these mystical letters than we Christians, who cast a more careless eye on these common hieroglyphics, and disdain to suck divinity from the flowers of nature. Nor do I so forget God as to adore the name of nature; which I define not, with the schools, to be the principle of motion and rest, but that straight and regular line, that settled and constant course the wisdom of God hath ordained the actions of his creatures, according to their several kinds. To make a revolution every day is the nature of the sun, because of that necessary course which God hath ordained it, from which it cannot swerve but by a faculty from that voice which first did give it motion. Now this course of nature God seldom alters or perverts; but, like an excellent artist, hath so contrived his work, that, with the selfsame instrument, without a new creation, he may effect his obscurest 1 Louis XI. "Qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare" Who knows not how to feign knows not how to reign. 2 Conclusions deduced according to the forms of logic; from ergo, therefore. - Dr. J. designs. Thus he sweeteneth the water with a wood, preserveth the creatures in the ark which the blast of his mouth might have as easily created; - for God is like a skilful geometrician, who, when more easily, and with one stroke of his compass, he might describe or divide a right line, had yet rather do this in a circle or longer way, according to the constituted and forelaid principles of his art: yet this rule of his he doth sometimes pervert, to acquaint the world with his prerogative, lest the arrogancy of our reason should ques-. tion his power, and conclude he could not. And thus I call the effects of nature the works of God, whose hand and instrument she only is; and therefore, to ascribe his actions unto her is to devolve the honor of the principal agent upon the instrument; which if with reason we may do, then let our hammers rise up and boast they have built our houses, and our pens receive the honor of our writings. I hold there is a general beauty in the works of God, and therefore no deformity in any kind of species or creature whatsoever. I cannot tell by what logic we call a toad, a bear, or an elephant ugly; they being created in those outward shapes and figures which best express the actions of their inward forms; and having passed that general visitation of God, who saw that all that he had made was good, that is, conformable to his will, which abhors deformity, and is the rule of order and beauty. There is no deformity but in monstrosity; wherein, notwithstanding, there is a kind of beauty; nature so ingeniously contriving the irregular parts, as they become sometimes more remarkable than the principal fabric. To speak yet more narrowly, there was never anything ugly or misshapen, but the chaos; wherein, notwithstanding, to speak strictly, there was no deformity, because no form; nor was it yet impregnate by the voice of God. Now, nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they being both the servants of his providence. Art is the perfection of nature. Were the world now as it was the sixth day, there were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one world, and art another. In brief, all things are artificial; for nature is the art of God. 1 See Exod. xv. 25. |