pleas'd, to have his Tomb adorn'd with Leaves and Flowers. When I was in _Lombardy_, I saw a Cloyster of the _Carthusians_, not far from _Pavia_; the Chapel is built from Top to Bottom, within and without, of white Marble, and almost all that is in it, as Altars, Pillars, and Tombs, are all Marble. To what Purpose was it to be at such a vast Expence upon a Marble Temple, for a few solitary Monks to sing in? And 'tis more Burthen to them than Use too, for they are perpetually troubled with Strangers, that come thither, only out of mere Curiosity, to see the Marble Temple. And that, which is yet more ridiculous, I was told there, that there is an Endowment of three thousand Ducats a Year for keeping the Monastery in Repair. And there are some that think that it is Sacrilege, to convert a Penny of that Money to any other pious Uses, contrary to the Intention of the Testator; they had rather pull down, that they may rebuild, than not go on with building. I thought meet to mention these, being something more remarkable than ordinary; tho' we have a World of Instances of this Kind up and down in our Churches.
This, in my Opinion, is rather Ambition than Charity. Rich Men now-a-Days will have their Monuments in Churches, whereas in Times past they could hardly get Room for the Saints there: They must have their Images there, and their Pictures, forsooth, with their Names at length, their Titles, and the Inscription of their Donation; and this takes up a considerable Part of the Church; and I believe in Time they'll be for having their Corpse laid even in the very Altars themselves. But perhaps, some will say, would you have their Munificence be discourag'd?
I say no, by no Means, provided what they offer to the Temple of God be worthy of it. But if I were a Priest or a Bishop, I would put it into the Heads of those thick-scull'd Courtiers or Merchants, that if they would atone for their Sins to Almighty God, they should privately bestow their Liberality upon the Relief of the Poor. But they reckon all as lost, that goes out so by Piece-meal, and is privily distributed toward the Succour of the Needy, that the next Age shall have no Memorial of the Bounty. But I think no Money can be better bestow'd, than that which Christ himself would have put to his Account, and makes himself Debtor for.
_Ti._ Don't you take that Bounty to be well plac'd that is bestow'd upon Monasteries?
_Eu._ Yes, and I would be a Benefactor myself, if I had an Estate that would allow it; but it should be such a Provision for Necessaries, as should not reach to Luxury. And I would give something too, wheresoever I found a religious Man that wanted it.
_Ti._ Many are of Opinion, that what is given to common Beggars, is not well bestowed.
_Eu._ I would do something that Way too; but with Discretion: But in my Opinion, it were better if every City were to maintain their own Poor; and Vagabonds and sturdy Beggars were not suffer'd to strole about, who want Work more than Money.
_Ti._ To whom then would you in an especial Manner give? How much? And to what Purposes?
_Eu._ It is a hard Matter for me to answer to all these Points exactly: First of all, there should be an Inclination to be helpful to all, and after that, the Proportion must be according to my Ability, as Opportunity should offer; and especially to those whom I know to be poor and honest; and when my own Purse fail'd me, I would exhort others to Charity.
_Ti._ But will you give us Leave now to discourse freely in your Dominions?
_Eu._ As freely as if you were at Home at your own Houses.
_Ti._ You don't love vast Expences upon Churches, you say, and this House might have been built for less than it was.
_Eu._ Indeed, I think this House of mine to be within the Compass of cleanly and convenient, far from Luxury, or I am mistaken. Some that live by begging, have built with more State; and yet, these Gardens of Mine, such as they are, pay a Tribute to the Poor; and I daily lessen my Expence, and am the more frugal in Expence upon myself and Family, that I may contribute the more plentifully to them.
_Ti._ If all Men were of your Mind, it would be better than it is with a good many People who deserve better, that are now in extreme Want; and on the other Hand, many of those pamper'd Carcases would be brought down, who deserve to be taught Sobriety and Modesty by Penury.
_Eu._ It may be so: but shall I mend your mean Entertainment now, with the best Bit at last?
_Ti._ We have had more than enough of Delicacies already.
_Eu._ That which I am now about to give you, let your Bellies be never so full, won't over-charge your Stomachs.
_Ti._ What is it?
_Eu._ The Book of the four Evangelists, that I may treat you with the best at last. Read, Boy, from the Place where you left off last.
_Boy. No Man can serve two Masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to the one and despise the other: You cannot serve God and Mammon. Therefore, I say unto you, take no thought for your Life, what you shall eat, or what you shall drink: Nor yet for your Body, what you shall put on. Is not the Life more than Meat, and the Body than Raiment?_ _Eu._ Give me the Book. In this Place _Jesus Christ_ seems to me, to have said the same Thing twice: For instead of what he had said in the first Place, _i.e._ _he will hate_; he says immediately, _he will despise_. And for what he had said before, _he will love_, he by and by turns it, _he will hold to_. The Sense is the same, tho' the Persons are chang'd.
_Ti._ I do not very well apprehend what you mean.
_Eu._ Let me, if you please, demonstrate it mathematically. In the first Part, put _A_ for the one, and _B_ for the other. In the latter Part, put _B_ for one, and _A_ for the other, inverting the Order; for either _A_ will hate, and _B_ will love, or _B_ will hold to, and _A_ will despise. Is it not plain now, that _A_ is twice hated, and _B_ twice beloved?
_Ti._ 'Tis very clear.
_Eu._ This Conjunction, _or_, especially repeated, has the Emphasis of a contrary, or at least, a different Meaning. Would it not be otherwise absurd to say, _Either_ Peter _shall overcome me, and I'll yield; or _Ti._ A pretty Sophism, as I'm an honest Man.
_Eu._ I shall think it so when you have made it out, not before.
_The._ I have something runs in my Mind, and I'm with Child to have it out: I can't tell what to make on't, but let it be what it will, you shall have it if you please; if it be a Dream, you shall be the Interpreters, or midwife it into the World.
_Eu._ Although it is looked upon to be unlucky to talk of Dreams at Table, and it is immodest to bring forth before so many Men; but this Dream, or this Conception of thy Mind, be it what it will, let us have it.
_The._ In my Judgment it is rather the Thing than the Person that is chang'd in this Text. And the Words _one_ and _one_ do not refer to _A_ and _B_; but either Part of them, to which of the other you please; so that chuse which you will, it must be opposed to that, which is signified by the other; as if you should say, you _shall either exclude_ Thing chang'd, and the Person the same: And it is so spoken of _A_, that it is the same Case, if you should say the same Thing of _B_; as thus, either you shall exclude _B_ or admit _A_, or admit _B_ or exclude _A_.
_Eu._ In Truth, you have very artificially solv'd this Problem: No Mathematician could have demonstrated it better upon a Slate.
_Soph._ That which is the greatest Difficulty to me is this; that we are forbidden to take Thought for to Morrow; when yet, _Paul_ himself wrought with his own Hands for Bread, and sharply rebukes lazy People, and those that live upon other Men's Labour, exhorting them to take Pains, and get their Living by their Fingers Ends, that they may have wherewith to relieve others in their Necessities. Are not they holy and warrantable Labours, by which a poor Husband provides for his dear Wife and Children?
_Ti._ This is a Question, which, in my Opinion, may be resolv'd several Ways. First of all, This Text had a particular Respect to those Times.
The Apostles being dispers'd far and wide for the Preaching of the Gospel, all sollicitous Care for a Maintenance was to be thrown aside, it being to be supply'd otherwise, having not Leisure to get their Living by their Labour; and especially, they having no Way of getting it, but by Fishing. But now the World is come to another Pass, and we all love to live at Ease, and shun Painstaking. Another Way of expounding it may be this; Christ had not forbid Industry, but Anxiety of Thought, and this Anxiety of Thought is to be understood according to the Temper of Men in common, who are anxious for nothing more than getting a Livelihood; that setting all other Things aside, this is the only Thing they mind. And our Saviour does in a Manner intimate the same himself, when he says, that one Man cannot serve two Masters. For he that wholly gives himself up to any Thing, is a Servant to it. Now he would have the Propagation of the Gospel be our chief, but yet, not our only Care. For he says, _Seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven, and these Things shall be added unto you_. He does not say, seek only; but seek first. And besides, I take the Word to Morrow, to be hyperbolical, and in that, signifies a Time to come, a great While hence, it being the Custom of the Misers of this World, to be anxiously scraping together, and laying up for Posterity.
_Eu._ We allow of your Interpretation; but what does he mean, when he says, _Be not sollicitous for your Life, what you shall eat_? The Body is cloth'd, but the Soul does not eat.
_Ti._ By _Anima_, is meant Life, which can't subsist without Meat (or is in Danger, if you take away its Food): But it is not so, if you take away the Garment, which is more for Modesty than Necessity. If a Person is forc'd to go naked, he does not die presently; but Want of Food is certain Death.
_Eu._ I do not well understand how this Sentence agrees with that which follows; _Is not the Life more than Meat, and the Body than Raiment_?
For if Life be so precious, we ought to take the more Care of it.
_Ti._ This Argument does rather increase our Sollicitousness than lessen it.
_Eu._ But this is none of our Saviour's Meaning; who, by this Argument, creates in us a stronger Confidence in the Father: For if a bountiful Father hath given us _gratis_ that which is the more valuable, he will also bestow upon us what is less valuable: He that has given us Life, will not deny us Food: And he that has given us Bodies, will by some Means or other give us Cloaths too: Therefore, relying upon his Bounty, we have no Reason to disquiet ourselves with Anxiety of Thought, for Things of smaller Moment. What remains then, but using this World, as though we used it not, we transfer our whole Study and Application to the Love of heavenly Things, and rejecting the World and the Devil universally, with all his crafty Delusions, we chearfully serve God alone, who will never forsake his Children? But all this While, here's no Body touches the Fruits. Certainly you may eat this with Joy, for this is the Product of my own Farm, and did not cost much Care to provide it.
_Ti._ We have very plentifully satisfied our Bodies.
_Eu._ I should be glad if you had satisfied your Minds too.
_Ti._ Our Minds have been satisfy'd more plentifully than our Bodies.
_Eu._ Boy, take away, and bring some Water; now, my Friends, let us wash, that if we have in eating contracted any Guilt, being cleansed, we may conclude with a Hymn: If you please, I'll conclude with what I begun out of St. _Chrysostom_.
_Ti._ We entreat you that you would do it.
_Eu. Glory to thee, O Lord; Glory to thee, O holy One; Glory to thee, O King; as thou hast given us Meat for our Bodies, so replenish our Souls with Joy and Gladness in thy holy Spirit, that we may be found acceptable in thy Sight, and may not be made asham'd, when thou shalt render to every one according to his Works_.
Boy. _Amen_.
_Ti._ In Truth, it is a pious and elegant Hymn.
_Eu._ Of St. _Chrysostom_'s Translation too.
_Ti._ Where is it to be found?
_Eu._ In his 56th Homily on St. _Matthew_.
_Ti._ I'll be sure to read it to Day: But I have a Mind to be informed of one Thing, why we thrice wish Glory to Christ under these three Denominations, of _Lord, Holy, and King_.
_Eu._ Because all Honour is due to him, and especially in these three Respects. We call him Lord, because he hath redeem'd us by his holy Blood from the Tyranny of the Devil, and hath taken us to himself.
Secondly, We stile him Holy, because he being the Sanctifier of all Men, not being content alone to have freely pardoned us all our Sins _gratis_ by his holy Spirit, hath bestow'd upon us his Righteousness, that we might follow Holiness. Lastly, We call him King, because we hope for the Reward of a heavenly Kingdom, from him who sits at the Right-Hand of God the Father. And all this Felicity we owe to his gratuitous Bounty, that we have _Jesus Christ_ for our Lord, rather than the Devil to be a Tyrant over us; that we have Innocence and Sanctity, instead of the Filth and Uncleanness of our Sins; and instead of the Torments of Hell, the Joys of Life everlasting.
_Ti._ Indeed it is a very pious Sentence.
_Eu._ This is your first Visit, Gentlemen, and I must not dismiss you without Presents; but plain ones, such as your Entertainment has been.
Boy, bring out the Presents: It is all one to me, whether you will draw Lots, or every one chuse for himself, they are all of a Price; that is to say, of no Value. You will not find _Heliogabatus_'s Lottery, a hundred Horses for one, and as many Flies for another. Here are four little Books, two Dials, a Lamp, and a Pen-Case: These I suppose will be more agreeable to you than Balsams, Dentrifices, or Looking-Glasses.
_Ti._ They are all so good, that it is a hard Matter to chuse; but do you distribute them according to your own Mind, and they'll come the welcomer where they fall.
_Eu._ This little Book contains _Solomon_'s Proverbs in Parchment, it teaches Wisdom, and it is gilded, because Gold is a Symbol of Wisdom.
This shall be given to our grey-headed _Timothy_; that according to the Doctrine of the Gospel, to him that has Wisdom, Wisdom shall be given and abound.
_Ti._ I will be sure to make it my Study, to stand in less Need of it.
_Eu. Sophronius_, this Dial will suit you very well, whom I know to be so good a Husband of your Time, that you won't let a Moment of that precious Thing be lost. It came out of the furthest Part of _Dalmatia_, and that's all the Commendation I shall give it.
_Sophr._ You indeed admonish a Sluggard to be diligent.
_Eu._ You have in this little Book the Gospel written on Vellum; it deserv'd to be set with Diamonds, except that the Heart of a Man were a fitter Repository for it. Lay it up there, _Theophilus_, that you may be more and more like to your Name.
_The._ I will do my Endeavour, that you may not think your Present ill bestow'd.
_Eu._ There are St. _Paul_'s Epistles; your constant Companions, _Eulalius_, are in this Book; you use to have _Paul_ constantly in your Mouth, and he would not be there, if he were not in your Heart too: And now for the Time to come, you may more conveniently have him in your Hand, and in your Eye. This is a Gift with good Counsel into the Bargain. And there is no Present more precious than good Counsel.
_Eu._ This Lamp is very fit for _Chrysoglottus_, who is an insatiable Reader; and as M. _Tully_ says, a Glutton of Books.
_Ch._ I give you double Thanks; first, for so choice a Present, and in the next Place, for admonishing a drowsy Person of Vigilance.
_Eu. Theodidactus_ must have this Pen-Case, who writes much, and to excellent Purposes; and I dare pronounce these Pens to be happy, by which the Honour of our Lord _Jesus Christ_ shall be celebrated, and that by such an Artist.
_The._ I would you could as well have supply'd me with Abilities, as you have with Instruments.
_Eu._ This contains some of the choicest of _Plutarch's_ Books of Morals, and very fairly written by one very well skill'd in the _Greek_; I find in them so much Purity of Thought, that it is my Amazement, how such evangelical Notions should come into the Heart of a Heathen. This I will present to young _Uranius_, that is a Lover of the _Greek_ Language. Here is one Dial left, and that falls to our _Nephalius_, as a thrifty Dispenser of his Time.
_Neph._ We give you Thanks, not only for your Presents, but your Compliments too. For this is not so much a making of Presents, as Panegyricks.
_Eu._ I give you double Thanks, Gentlemen: First for taking these small Matters in so good Part; and secondly, for the Comfort I have receiv'd by your learned and pious Discourses. What Effect my Entertainment may have upon you I know not; but this I am sure of, you'll leave me wiser and better for it. I know you take no Pleasure in Fiddles or Fools, and much less in Dice: Wherefore, if you please, we will pass away an Hour in seeing the rest of the Curiosities of my little Palace.
_Ti._ That's the very Thing we were about to desire of you.
_Eu._ There is no Need of entreating a Man of his Word. I believe you have seen enough of this Summer Hall. It looks three Ways, you see; and which Way soever you turn your Eye, you have a most delicate Green before you. If we please, we can keep out the Air or Rain, by putting down the Sashes, if either of them be troublesome; and if the Sun is incommodious, we have thick folding Shutters on the out-Side, and thin ones within, to prevent that. When I dine here, I seem to dine in my Garden, not in my House, for the very Walls have their Greens and their Flowers intermix'd; and 'tis no ill Painting neither. Here's our Saviour celebrating his last Supper with his elect Disciples. Here's _Herod_ a keeping his Birth-Day with a bloody Banquet. Here's _Dives_, mention'd in the Gospel, in the Height of his Luxury, by and by sinking into Hell.
And here is _Lazarus_, driven away from his Doors, by and by to be receiv'd into _Abraham's_ Bosom.
_Ti._ We don't very well know this Story.
_Eu._ It is _Cleopatra_ contending with _Anthony_, which should be most luxurious; she has drunk down the first Pearl, and now reaches forth her Hand for the other. Here is the Battel of the _Centaurs_; and here _Alexander_ the Great thrusts his Launce through the Body of _Clytus_.
These Examples preach Sobriety to us at Table, and deter a Man from Gluttony and Excess. Now let us go into my Library, it is not furnish'd with very many Books, but those I have, are very good ones.
_Ti._ This Place carries a Sort of Divinity in it, every Thing is so shining.
_Eu._ You have now before you my chiefest Treasure: You see nothing at the Table but Glass and Tin, and I have in my whole House but one Piece of Plate, and that is a gilt Cup, which I preserve very carefully for the Sake of him that gave it me. This hanging Globe gives you a Prospect of the whole World. And here upon the Wall, are the several Regions of it describ'd more at large. Upon those other Walls, you have the Pictures of the most eminent Authors: There would be no End of Painting them all. In the first Place, here is _Christ_ sitting on the Mount, and stretching forth his Hand over his Head; the Father sends a Voice, saying, _Hear ye him_: the Holy Ghost, with outstretch'd Wings, and in a Glory, embracing him.
_Ti._ As God shall bless me, a Piece of Work worthy of _Apelles_.
_Eu._ Adjoining to the Library, there is a little Study, but a very neat one; and 'tis but removing a Picture, and there is a Chimney behind it, if the Cold be troublesome. In Summer-Time it passes for solid Wall.
_Ti._ Every Thing here looks like Jewels; and here's a wonderful pretty Scent.
_Eu._ Above all Things, I love to have my House neat and sweet, and both these may be with little Cost. My Library has a little Gallery that looks into the Garden, and there is a Chapel adjoining to it.
_Ti._ The Place itself deserves a Deity.
_Eu._ Let us go now to those three Walks above the other that you have seen, that look into the Kitchen Garden. These upper Walks have a Prospect into both Gardens; but only by Windows with Shutters; especially, in the Walls that have no Prospect into the inner Garden, and that's for the Safety of the House. Here upon the Left-Hand, because there is more Light, and fewer Windows, is painted the whole Life of _Jesus_, out of the History of the four Evangelists, as far as to the Mission of the Holy Ghost, and the first Preaching of the Apostles out of the Acts; and there are Notes upon the Places, that the Spectator may see near what Lake, or upon what Mountain such or such a Thing was done.
There are also Titles to every Story, with an Abstract of the Contents, as that of our Saviour, _I will, Be thou clean_. Over against it you have the Types and Prophecies of the Old Testament; especially, out of the Prophets and Psalms, which are little else but the Life of Christ and Apostles related another Way. Here I sometimes walk, discoursing with myself, and meditating upon the unspeakable Counsel of God, in giving his Son for the Redemption of Mankind. Sometimes my Wife bears me Company, or sometimes a Friend that takes Delight in pious Things.
_Ti._ Who could be tired with this House?
_Eu._ No Body that has learn'd to live by himself. Upon the upper Border (as though not fit to be among the rest) are all the Popes Heads with their Titles, and over against them the Heads of the _Cæsars_, for the better taking in the Order of History. At each Corner, there is a Lodging Room, where I can repose myself, and have a Prospect of my Orchard, and my little Birds. Here, in the farthest Nook of the Meadow, is a little Banquetting House; there I sup sometimes in Summer, and I make Use of it, as an Infirmary, if any of my Family be taken ill, with any infectious Disease.
_Ti._ Some People are of Opinion, that those Diseases are not to be avoided.
_Eu._ Why then do Men shun a Pit or Poison? Or do they fear this the less, because they don't see it? No more is the Poison seen, that a Basilisk darts from his Eyes. When Necessity calls for it, I would not stick to venture my Life: But to do it without any Necessity, is Rashness. There are some other Things worth your seeing; but my Wife shall shew you them: Stay here this three Days if you please, and make my House your Home; entertain your Eyes and your Minds, I have a little Business abroad: I must ride out to some of the Neighbouring Towns.
_Ti._ What, a Money Business?
_Eu._ I would not leave such Friends for the Sake of receiving a little Money.
_Ti._ Perhaps you have appointed a hunting Match.
_Eu._ It is a Kind of Hunting indeed, but it is something else I hunt, than either Boars or Stags.
_Ti._ What is it then?
_Eu._ I'll tell you: I have a Friend in one Town lies dangerously ill; the Physician fears his Life, but I am afraid of his Soul: For I don't think he's so well prepar'd for his End as a Christian should be: I'll go and give him some pious Admonitions that he may be the better for, whether he lives or dies. In another Town there are two Men bitterly at odds, they are no ill Men neither, but Men of a very obstinate Temper.
If the Matter should rise to a greater Height, I am afraid it would be of ill Consequence to more than themselves: I will do all I can in the World, to reconcile them; they are both my Kinsmen. This is my hunting Match, and if I shall have good Success in it, we'll drink their Healths.
_Ti._ A very pious Hunting, indeed; we pray heartily, that not _Delia_ but _Christ_ would give you good Success.
_Eu._ I had rather obtain this Prey, than have two thousand Ducats left me for a Legacy.
_Ti._ Will you come back quickly?
_Eu._ Not till I have try'd every Thing; therefore, I can't set a Time.
In the mean Time, be as free with any Thing of mine, as though it were your own, and enjoy yourselves.
_Ti._ God be with you, forward and backward.
_The APOTHEOSIS of CAPNIO._ The ARGUMENT.
_Canonizing, or entring the incomparable Man_, John Reuclin, _into the Number of the Saints, teaches how much Honour is due to famous Men, who have by their Industry improv'd the liberal Sciences_.
None that has liv'd Well, dies Ill.
POMPILIUS, BRASSICANUS.
_Po._ Where have you been, with your Spatter-Lashes?
_Br._ At _Tubinga_.
_Po._ Is there no News there?
_Br._ I can't but admire, that the World should run so strangely a gadding after News. I heard a _Camel_ preach at _Lovain_, that we should have nothing to do with any Thing that is new.
_Po._ Indeed, it is a Conceit fit for a Camel. That Man, (if he be a Man,) ought never to change his old Shoes, or his Shirt, and always to feed upon stale Eggs, and drink nothing but sour Wine.
_Br._ But for all this, you must know, the good Man does not love old Things so well, but that he had rather have his Porridge fresh than stale.
_Po._ No more of the Camel; but prithee tell me, what News have you?
_Br._ Nay, I have News in my Budget too; but News which he says is naught.
_Po._ But that which is new, will be old in Time. Now if all old Things be good, and all new Things be bad, then it follows of Consequence, that that which is good at present, has been bad heretofore, and that which is now bad, will in Time come to be good.
_Br._ According to the Doctrine of the Camel, it must be so; and therefore, hence it follows, that he that was a young wicked Fool in Time past, because he was new, will come to be a good One, because he is grown old.
Po. But prithee, let's have the News, be it what it will.
_Br._ The famous triple-tongu'd Phoenix of Learning, _John Reuclin_, is departed this Life.
_Po._ For certain?
_Br._ Nay, it is too certain.
_Po._ Why, pray, what Harm is that, for a Man to leave an immortal Memory of a good Name and Reputation behind him, and to pass out of this miserable World, into the Society of the Blessed?
_Br._ How do you know that to be the Case?
_Po._ It is plain, for he can't die otherwise, who has liv'd as he did.
_Br._ You would say so, indeed, if you knew what I know.
_Br._ No, no, I must not tell you.
_Po._ Why so?
_Br._ Because he that entrusted me with the Secret, made me promise Silence.
_Po._ Do you entrust me with it upon the same Condition, and, upon my honest Word, I'll keep Counsel.
_Br._ That honest Word has often deceived me; but however, I'll venture; especially, it being a Matter of that Kind, that it is fit all honest Men should know it. There is at _Tubinge_, a certain _Franciscan_, a Man accounted of singular Holiness in every Bodies Opinion but his own.
_Po._ That you mention, is the greatest Argument in the World of true Piety.
_Br._ If I should tell you his Name, you'd say as much, for you know the Man.
_Po._ What if I shall guess at him?
_Br._ Do, if you will.
_Po._ Hold your Ear then.
_Br._ What needs that, when here's no Body within Hearing?
_Po._ But however, for Fashion Sake.
_Br._ 'Tis the very same.
_Po._ He is a Man of undoubted Credit. If he says a Thing, it is to me, as true as the Gospel.
_Br._ Mind me then, and I'll give you the naked Truth of the Story. My Friend _Reuclin_ was sick, indeed very dangerously; but yet, there was some Hopes of his Recovery; he was a Man worthy never to grow old, be sick, or die. One Morning I went to visit my Franciscan, that he might ease my Mind of my Trouble by his Discourse. For when my Friend was sick, I was sick too, for I lov'd him as my own Father.
_Po._ Phoo! There's no Body but lov'd him, except he were a very bad Man indeed.
_Br._ My Franciscan says to me, _Brassicanus_, leave off grieving, our _Reuclin_ is well. What, said I, Is he well all on a sudden then? For but two Days ago, the Doctors gave but little Hopes of him. Then, says he, he is so well recover'd, that he will never be sick again. Don't weep, says he, (for he saw the Tears standing in my Eyes) before you have heard the Matter out. I have not indeed seen the Man this six Days, but I pray for him constantly every Day that goes over my Head. This Morning after Mattins, I laid myself upon my Couch, and fell into a gentle pleasant Slumber.
_Po._ My Mind presages some joyful Thing.
_Br._ You have no bad Guess with you. Methought, says he, I was standing by a little Bridge, that leads into a wonderful pleasant Meadow; the emerald Verdure of the Grass and Leaves affording such a charming Prospect; the infinite Beauty, and Variety of the Flowers, like little Stars, were so delightful, and every Thing so fragrant, that all the Fields on this Side the River, by which that blessed Field was divided from the rest, seem'd neither to grow, nor to be green; but look'd dead, blasted, and withered. And in the Interim, while I was wholly taken up with the Prospect, _Reuclin_, as good Luck would have it, came by; and as he past by, gave me his Blessing in _Hebrew_. He was gotten half Way over the Bridge before I perceived him, and as I was about to run to him, he look'd back, and bid me keep off. You must not come yet, says he, but five Years hence, you shall follow me. In the mean Time, do you stand by a Spectator, and a Witness of what is done. Here I put in a Word, says I, was _Reuclin_ naked, or had he Cloaths on; was he alone, or had he Company? He had, says he, but one Garment, and that was a very white one; you would have said, it had been a Damask, of a wonderful shining White, and a very pretty Boy with Wings followed him, which I took to be his good Genius.
_Po._ But had he no evil Genius with him?
_Br._ Yes, the Franciscan told me he thought he had. For there followed him a great Way off, some Birds, that were all over Black, except, that when they spread their Wings, they seem'd to have Feathers, of a Mixture of White and Carnation. He said, that by their Colour and Cry, one might have taken them for Magpies, but that they were sixteen Times as big; about the size of Vultures, having Combs upon their Heads, with crooked Beaks and Gorbellies. If there had been but three of them, one would have taken them for Harpyes.
_Po._ And what did these Devils attempt to do?
_Br._ They kept at a Distance, chattering and squalling at the Hero _Reuclin_, and were ready to set upon him, if they durst.
_Po._ What hindred them?
_Br._ Turning upon them, and making the Sign of the Cross with his Hand at them, he said, _Be gone, ye cursed Fiends to a Place that's fitter for you. You have Work enough to do among Mortals, your Madness has no Power over me, that am now lifted in the Roll of Immortality._ The Words were no sooner out of his Mouth, says the Franciscan, but these filthy Birds took their Flight, but left such a Stink behind them, that a House of Office would have seem'd Oyl of sweet Marjoram, or Ointment of Spikenard to it. He swore, he had rather go to Hell, than snuff up such a Perfume again.
_Po._ A Curse upon these Pests.
_Br._ But, hear what the Franciscan told me besides: While I was intent upon these Things, says he, St. _Jerome_ was come close to the Bridge, and saluted _Reuclin_ in these Words, _God save thee, my most holy Companion, I am ordered to conduct thee to the Mansions of the blessed Souls above, which the divine Bounty has appointed thee as a Reward for thy most pious Labours._ With that he took out a Garment, and put it upon _Reuclin_. Then, said I, tell me in what Habit or Form St. _Jerome_ appear'd, was he so old as they paint him? Did he wear a Cowl or a Hat, or the Garb of a Cardinal? Or had he a Lion by his Side? Nothing of all these, said he; but his Person was comely, which made his Age appear such as carried in it much Comeliness, but no Deformity. What Need had he to have a Lion by his Side, as he is commonly painted? His Gown came down to his Heels, as transparent as Crystal, and of the same Fashion of that he gave to _Reuclin_. It was all over painted with Tongues of three several Colours; some imitated Rubies, some Emeralds, and others Sapphires; and beside the Clearness of it, the Order set it off very much.
_Po._ An Intimation, I suppose, of the three Tongues that he profess'd.
_Br._ Without doubt: For he said, that upon the very Borders of the Garments were the Characters of these three Languages inscrib'd in their different Colours.
_Po._ Had _Jerome_ no Company with him?
_Br._ No Company, do you say? The whole Field swarm'd with Myriads of Angels, that fill'd the Air as thick, as those little Corpuscles they call Atoms, fly in the Sun Beams; pardon the Meanness of the Comparison.
If they had not been as transparent as Glass, there would have been no Heaven nor Earth to have been seen.
_Po._ O brave, I am glad with all my Heart, for _Reuclin_'s, Sake; but what follow'd?
_Br. Jerome_, (says he) for Honour's Sake, giving _Reuclin_ the Right-Hand, and embracing him, conducts him into the Meadow, and up a Hill that was in the middle of it, where they kiss'd and embrac'd one another again: In the mean Time, the Heavens open'd over their Heads to a prodigious Wideness, and there appear'd a Glory so unutterable, as made every Thing else, that pass'd for wonderful before, to look mean and sordid.
_Po._ Can't you give us some Representation of it?
Br. No, how should I, that did not see it? He who did see it, says, that he was not able to express the very Dream of it. He said, he would die a thousand Deaths to see it over again, if it were but for one Moment.
_Po._ How then?
_Br._ Out of this Overture of the Heavens, there was let down a great Pillar of Fire that was transparent, and of a very pleasant Form: By this the two holy Souls were carried into Heaven, in one anothers Embraces; a Choir of Angels all the While accompanying them, with so charming a Melody, that the Franciscan says, he is never able to think of the Delight of it without weeping. And after this there follow'd a wonderful fragrant Smell. When he waked out of his Dream, if you will call it a Dream, he was just like a mad Man. He would not believe he was in his Cell; he called for his Bridge and his Meadow; he could not speak or think of any Thing else but them. The Seniors of the Convent, when they found the Story to be no Fable, for it is certain that _Reuclin_ dy'd at the very Instant that the holy Man had this Vision, they unanimously gave Thanks to God, that abundantly rewards good Men for their good Deeds.
_Po._ What have we to do, but to set down this holy Man's Name in the Calendar of Saints?
_Br._ I should have done that if the Franciscan had seen nothing at all of this, and in Gold Letters too, I'll assure you, next to St. _Jerome_ himself.
_Po._ And let me die if I don't put him down in my Book so too.
_Br._ And besides that, I'll set him in Gold in my little Chapel, among the choicest of my Saints.