in heaven. The various cosmography of that part hath already varied the names of contrived constellations; Nimrod is lost in Orion, and Osiris in the dogstar. While we look for incorruption in the heavens, we find they are but like the earth; durable in their main bodies, alterable in their parts: whereof beside comets and new stars, perspectives begin to tell tales. And the spots that wander about the sun, with Phaeton's favor, would make clear conviction. There is nothing strictly immortal, but immortality; whatever hath no beginning, may be confident of no end-which is the peculiar of that necessary essence that cannot destroy itself; and the highest strain of omnipotency, to be so powerfully constituted as not to suffer even from the power of itself: all others have a dependent being, and within the reach of destruction. But the sufficiency of christian immortality frustrates all earthly glory, and the quality of either state after death, makes a folly of posthumous memory. God who can only destroy our souls, and hath assured our resurrection, either of our bodies or names hath directly promised no duration. Wherein there is so much of chance, that the boldest expectants have found unhappy frustration; and to hold long subsistence, seems but a scape in oblivion. But man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave, solemnizing nativi. ties and deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting cere monies of bravery in the infamy of his nature. Life is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible sun within us. A small fire sufficeth for life, great flames seemed too little after death, while men vainly affected precious pyres, and to burn like Sardanapalus, but the 'wisdom of funeral laws found the folly of prodigal blazes, and reduced undoing fires unto the rule of sober obsequies, wherein few could be so mean as not to provide wood, pitch, a mourner, and an urn.1 Five languages secured not the epitaph of Gordianus.2 The man of God lives longer without a tomb than any by one, invisibly interred by angels, and adjudged to obscurity, though not without some marks directing human discovery. Enoch and Elias, without either tomb or burial, in an anomalous state of being, are the great examples of perpetuity, in their long and living memory, in strict account being still on this side death, and having a late part yet to act upon this stage of earth. If in the decretory term of the world we shall not all die but be changed, according to received translation; the last day will make but few graves; at least quick resurrections will anticipate lasting sepultures; some graves will be opened before they be quite closed, and Lazarus be no wonder. When many that feared to die, shall groan that they can die but once, the dismal state is the second and living death, when life puts despair on the damned; when men shall wish the coverings of mountains, not of monuments, and annihilations shall be courted. While some have studied monuments, others have studiously declined them: and some have been so vainly boisterous, that they durst not acknowledge their graves; wherein Alaricus3 seems most subtle, who had a river turned to hide his bones at the bottom. Even Sylla, that thought himself safe in his urn, could not 1 According to the epitaph of Rufus and Beronica, in Gruterus. nec ex Eorum bonis plus inventum est, quam ? In Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Egyptian, Arabic; defaced by Licinius the emperor. 3 Jornandes de rebus Geticis. prevent revenging tongues, and stones thrown at his monument. Happy are they whom privacy makes innocent, who deal so with men in this world, that they are not afraid to meet them in the next, who when they die, make no commotion among the dead, and are not touched with that poetical taunt of Isaiah.1 Pyramids, arches, obelisks, were but the irregularities of vain-glory, and wild enormities of ancient magnanimity. But the most magnanimous resolution rests in the Christian religion, which trampleth upon pride, and sits on the neck of ambition, humbly pursuing that infallible perpetuity, unto which all others must diminish their diameters, and be poorly seen in angles of contingency.2 Pious spirits who passed their days in raptures of futurity, made little more of this world, than the world that was before it, while they lay obscure in the chaos of pre-ordination, and night of their fore-beings. And if any have been so happy as truly to understand Christian annihilation, extasis, exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss of the Spouse, gustation of God, and ingression into the divine shadow, they have already had an handsome anticipation of heaven; the glory of the world is surely over, and the earth in ashes unto them. To subsist in lasting monuments, to live in their productions, to exist in their names and predicament of chimeras, was large satisfaction unto old expectations, and made one part of their Elysiums. But all this is nothing in the metaphysics of true belief. To live indeed is to be again ourselves, which being not only an hope but an evidence in noble believers; 'tis 1 Isa. xiv. 2 Angulus contingentiæ, the least of angles. all one to lie in St. Innocent's1 churchyard, as in the sands of Egypt: ready to be anything, in the ecstasy of being ever, and as content with six foot as the Moles of Adrianus.2 Tabesne cadavera solvat An rogus haud refert.-LUCAN.3 [AGAINST AFFECTATION IN THE DISDAIN OF WORLDLY GOODS] (From Christian Morals, Part I, Section 26) THOUGH a contented mind enlargeth the dimension of little things, and unto some 'tis wealth enough not to be poor, and others are well content if they be but rich enough to be honest, and to give every man his due; yet fall not into that obsolete affectation of bravery to throw away thy money, and to reject all honors or honorable stations in this courtly and splendid world. Old generosity is superannuated, and such contempt of the world out of date. No man is now likely to refuse the favor of great ones, or be content to say unto princes, Stand out of my sun. And if any there be of such antiquated resolutions, they are not likely to be tempted out of them by great ones; and 'tis fair if they escape the name of hypochondriacs from the genius of latter times, unto whom contempt of the world is the most contemptible opinion, and to be able, like Bias, to carry all they have about them were to be I the eighth wise-man. However, the old tetric philosophers looked always with indignation upon such a face of things, and observing the unnatural current of 1 In Paris, where bodies soon consume. A stately Mausoleum or sepulchral pyle, built by Adrianus in Rome, where now standeth the Castle of St. Angelo. $ [VII, 810] riches, power, and honor in the world, and withal the imperfection and demerit of persons often advanced unto them, were tempted unto angry opinions, that affairs were ordered more by stars than reason, and that things went on rather by lottery than election. [THE HEROIC TEMPER] (From Christian Morals, Part I, Section 36) THE heroical vein of mankind runs much in the soldiery and courageous part of the world; and in that form we oftenest find men above men. History is full of the gallantry of that tribe; and when we read their notable acts, we easily find what a difference there is between a Life in Plutarch and in Laertius. Where true fortitude dwells, loyalty, bounty, friendship, and fidelity may be found. A man may confide in persons constituted for noble ends, who dare do and suffer, and who have a hand to burn for their country and their friend. Small and creeping things are the product of petty souls. He is like to be mistaken, who makes choice of a covetous man for a friend, or relieth upon the reed of narrow and poltron friendship. Pitiful things are only to be found in the cottages of such breasts; but bright thoughts, clear deeds, constancy, fidelity, bounty, and generous honesty are the gems of noble minds; wherein, to derogate from none, the true heroic English gentleman hath no peer. [DOGMATISM] (From Christian Morals, Part II, Section 3) LET well weighed considerations, not stiff and peremptory assumptions, guide thy discourses, pen, and actions. To begin or continue our works like Trisme |