OF THE VIRTUES COMMONLY CALLED INTELLECTUAL; AND THEIR CONTRARY DEFECTS.
[Sidenote: Intellectual virtue defined.]
VIRTUE generally, in all sorts of subjects, is somewhat that is valued for eminence; and consisteth in comparison. For if all things were equal in all men, nothing would be prized. And by _virtues intellectual_, are always understood such abilities of the mind, as men praise, value, and desire should be in themselves; and go commonly under the name of a _good wit_; though the same word _wit_, be used also, to distinguish one certain ability from the rest.
[Sidenote: Wit, natural, or acquired.]
These _virtues_ are of two sorts; _natural_, and _acquired_. By natural, I mean not, that which a man hath from his birth: for that is nothing else but sense; wherein men differ so little one from another, and from brute beasts, as it is not to be reckoned amongst virtues. [Sidenote: Natural wit.] But I mean, that _wit_, which is gotten by use only, and experience; without method, culture, or instruction. This NATURAL WIT, consisteth principally in two things; _celerity of imagining_, that is, swift succession of one thought to another; and _steady direction_ to some approved end. On the contrary a slow imagination, maketh that defect, or fault of the mind, which is commonly called DULLNESS, _stupidity_, and sometimes by other names that signify slowness of motion, or difficulty to be moved.
[Sidenote: Good wit, or fancy.]
And this difference of quickness, is caused by the difference of men’s passions; that love and dislike, some one thing, some another: and therefore some men’s thoughts run one way, some another; and are held to, and observe differently the things that pass through their imagination. And whereas in this succession of men’s thoughts, there is nothing to observe in the things they think on, but either in what they be _like one another_, or in what they be _unlike_, or _what they serve for_, or _how they serve to such a purpose_; those that observe their similitudes, in case they be such as are but rarely observed by others, are said to have a _good wit_; by which, in this occasion, is meant a _good fancy_. But they that observe their differences, and dissimilitudes; which is called _distinguishing_, and _discerning_, [Sidenote: Good judgment.] and _judging_ between thing and thing; in case, such discerning be not easy, are said to have a _good judgment_: and particularly in matter of conversation and business; wherein, times, places, and persons are to be discerned, [Sidenote: Discretion.] this virtue is called DISCRETION. The former, that is, fancy, without the help of judgment, is not commended as a virtue: but the latter which is judgment, and discretion, is commended for itself, without the help of fancy. Besides the discretion of times, places, and persons, necessary to a good fancy, there is required also an often application of his thoughts to their end; that is to say, to some use to be made of them.
This done; he that hath this virtue, will be easily fitted with similitudes, that will please, not only by illustrations of his discourse, and adorning it with new and apt metaphors; but also, by the rarity of their invention. But without steadiness, and direction to some end, a great fancy is one kind of madness; such as they have, that entering into any discourse, are snatched from their purpose, by every thing that comes in their thought, into so many, and so long digressions, and parentheses, that they utterly lose themselves: which kind of folly, I know no particular name for: but the cause of it is, sometimes want of experience; whereby that seemeth to a man new and rare, which doth not so to others: sometimes pusillanimity; by which that seems great to him, which other men think a trifle: and whatsoever is new, or great, and therefore thought fit to be told, withdraws a man by degrees from the intended way of his discourse.
In a good poem, whether it be _epic_, or _dramatic_; as also in _sonnets_, _epigrams_, and other pieces, both judgment and fancy are required: but the fancy must be more eminent; because they please for the extravagancy; but ought not to displease by indiscretion.
In a good history, the judgment must be eminent; because the goodness consisteth, in the method, in the truth, and in the choice of the actions that are most profitable to be known. Fancy has no place, but only in adorning the style.
In orations of praise, and in invectives, the fancy is predominant; because the design is not truth, but to honour or dishonour; which is done by noble, or by vile comparisons. The judgment does but suggest what circumstances make an action laudable, or culpable.
In hortatives, and pleadings, as truth, or disguise serveth best to the design in hand; so is the judgment, or the fancy most required.
[Sidenote: Discretion.]
In demonstration, in counsel, and all rigorous search of truth, judgment does all, except sometimes the understanding have need to be opened by some apt similitude; and then there is so much use of fancy. But for metaphors, they are in this case utterly excluded. For seeing they openly profess deceit; to admit them into counsel, or reasoning, were manifest folly.
And in any discourse whatsoever, if the defect of discretion be apparent, how extravagant soever the fancy be, the whole discourse will be taken for a sign of want of wit; and so will it never when the discretion is manifest, though the fancy be never so ordinary.
The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, profane, clean, obscene, grave, and light, without shame, or blame; which verbal discourse cannot do, farther than the judgment shall approve of the time, place, and persons. An anatomist, or a physician may speak, or write his judgment of unclean things; because it is not to please, but profit: but for another man to write his extravagant, and pleasant fancies of the same, is as if a man, from being tumbled into the dirt, should come and present himself before good company. And it is the want of discretion that makes the difference. Again, in professed remissness of mind, and familiar company, a man may play with the sounds, and equivocal significations of words; and that many times with encounters of extraordinary fancy: but in a sermon, or in public, or before persons unknown, or whom we ought to reverence; there is no gingling of words that will not be accounted folly: and the difference is only in the want of discretion. So that where wit is wanting, it is not fancy that is wanting, but discretion. Judgment therefore without fancy is wit, but fancy without judgment, not.
[Sidenote: Prudence.]
When the thoughts of a man, that has a design in hand, running over a multitude of things, observes how they conduce to that design; or what design they may conduce unto; if his observations be such as are not easy, or usual, this wit of his is called PRUDENCE; and depends on much experience, and memory of the like things, and their consequences heretofore. In which there is not so much difference of men; as there is in their fancies and judgment; because the experience of men equal in age, is not much unequal, as to the quantity; but lies in different occasions; every one having his private designs. To govern well a family, and a kingdom, are not different degrees of prudence; but different sorts of business; no more than to draw a picture in little, or as great, or greater than the life, are different degrees of art. A plain husbandman is more prudent in affairs of his own house, than a privy-councillor in the affairs of another man.
[Sidenote: Craft.]
To prudence, if you add the use of unjust, or dishonest means, such as usually are prompted to men by fear, or want; you have that crooked wisdom, which is called CRAFT; which is a sign of pusillanimity. For magnanimity is contempt of unjust, or dishonest helps. And that which the Latins call _versutia_, translated into English, _shifting_, and is a putting off of a present danger or incommodity, by engaging into a greater, as when a man robs one to pay another, is but a shorter-sighted craft, called _versutia_, from _versura_, which signifies taking money at usury for the present payment of interest.
[Sidenote: Acquired wit.]
As for _acquired wit_, I mean acquired by method and instruction, there is none but reason; which is grounded on the right use of speech, and produceth the sciences. But of reason and science I have already spoken, in the fifth and sixth chapters.
The causes of this difference of wits, are in the passions; and the difference of passions proceedeth, partly from the different constitution of the body, and partly from different education. For if the difference proceeded from the temper of the brain, and the organs of sense, either exterior or interior, there would be no less difference of men in their sight, hearing, or other senses, than in their fancies and discretions. It proceeds therefore from the passions; which are different, not only from the difference of mens’ complexions; but also from their difference of customs, and education.
The passions that most of all cause the difference of wit, are principally, the more or less desire of power, of riches, of knowledge, and of honour. All which may be reduced to the first, that is, desire of power. For riches, knowledge, and honour, are but several sorts of power.
And therefore, a man who has no great passion for any of these things; but is, as men term it, indifferent; though he may be so far a good man, as to be free from giving offence; yet he cannot possibly have either a great fancy, or much judgment. For the thoughts are to the desires, as scouts, and spies, to range abroad, and find the way to the things desired: all steadiness of the mind’s motion, and all quickness of the same, proceeding from thence: for as to have no desire, is to be dead: [Sidenote: Giddiness.] so to have weak passions, is dullness; and to have passions indifferently for everything, GIDDINESS, and _distraction_; [Sidenote: Madness.] and to have stronger and more vehement passions for anything, than is ordinarily seen in others, is that which men call MADNESS.
Whereof there be almost as many kinds, as of the passions themselves.
Sometimes the extraordinary and extravagant passion, proceedeth from the evil constitution of the organs of the body, or harm done them; and sometimes the hurt, and indisposition of the organs, is caused by the vehemence, or long continuance of the passion. But in both cases the madness is of one and the same nature.
The passion, whose violence, or continuance, maketh madness, is either great _vain-glory_; which is commonly called _pride_, and _self-conceit_; or great _dejection_ of mind.
[Sidenote: Rage.]
Pride, subjecteth a man to anger, the excess whereof, is the madness called RAGE and FURY. And thus it comes to pass that excessive desire of revenge, when it becomes habitual, hurteth the organs, and becomes rage: that excessive love, with jealousy, becomes also rage: excessive opinion of a man’s own self, for divine inspiration, for wisdom, learning, form and the like, becomes distraction and giddiness: the same, joined with envy, rage: vehement opinion of the truth of anything, contradicted by others, rage.
[Sidenote: Melancholy.]
Dejection subjects a man to causeless fears; which is a madness, commonly called MELANCHOLY; apparent also in divers manners as in haunting of solitudes and graves; in superstitious behaviour; and in fearing, some one, some another particular thing. In sum, all passions that produce strange and unusual behaviour, are called by the general name of madness. But of the several kinds of madness, he that would take the pains, might enrol a legion. [Sidenote: Madness.] And if the excesses be madness, there is no doubt but the passions themselves, when they tend to evil, are degrees of the same.
For example, though the effect of folly, in them that are possessed of an opinion of being inspired, be not visible always in one man, by any very extravagant action, that proceedeth from such passion; yet, when many of them conspire together, the rage of the whole multitude is visible enough. For what argument of madness can there be greater, than to clamour, strike, and throw stones at our best friends? Yet this is somewhat less than such a multitude will do. For they will clamour, fight against, and destroy those, by whom all their lifetime before, they have been protected, and secured from injury. And if this be madness in the multitude, it is the same in every particular man. For as in the midst of the sea, though a man perceive no sound of that part of the water next him, yet he is well assured, that part contributes as much to the roaring of the sea, as any other part of the same quantity; so also, though we perceive no great unquietness in one or two men, yet we may be well assured, that their singular passions, are parts of the seditious roaring of a troubled nation. And if there were nothing else that bewrayed their madness; yet that very arrogating such inspiration to themselves, is argument enough. If some man in Bedlam should entertain you with sober discourse; and you desire in taking leave, to know what he were, that you might another time requite his civility; and he should tell you, he were God the Father; I think you need expect no extravagant action for argument of his madness.
This opinion of inspiration, called commonly, private spirit, begins very often, from some lucky finding of an error generally held by others; and not knowing, or not remembering, by what conduct of reason, they came to so singular a truth, (as they think it, though it be many times an untruth they light on) they presently admire themselves, as being in the special grace of God Almighty, who hath revealed the same to them supernaturally, by his Spirit.
Again, that madness is nothing else, but too much appearing passion, may be gathered out of the effects of wine, which are the same with those of the evil disposition of the organs. For the variety of behaviour in men that have drunk too much, is the same with that of madmen: some of them raging, others loving, others laughing, all extravagantly, but according to their several domineering passions: for the effect of the wine, does but remove dissimulation, and take from them the sight of the deformity of their passions. For, I believe, the most sober men, when they walk alone without care and employment of the mind, would be unwilling the vanity and extravagance of their thoughts at that time should be publicly seen; which is a confession, that passions unguided, are for the most part mere madness.
The opinions of the world, both in ancient and later ages, concerning the cause of madness, have been two. Some deriving them from the passions; some, from demons, or spirits, either good or bad, which they thought might enter into a man, possess him, and move his organs in such strange and uncouth manner, as madmen use to do. The former sort therefore, called such men, madmen: but the latter, called them sometimes _demoniacs_, that is, possessed with spirits; sometimes _enurgumeni_, that is, agitated or moved with spirits; and now in Italy they are called, not only _pazzi_, madmen; but also _spiritati_, men possessed.
There was once a great conflux of people in Abdera, a city of the Greeks, at the acting of the tragedy of _Andromeda_, upon an extreme hot day; whereupon, a great many of the spectators falling into fevers, had this accident from the heat, and from the tragedy together, that they did nothing but pronounce iambics, with the names of Perseus and Andromeda; which, together with the fever, was cured by the coming on of winter; and this madness was thought to proceed from the passion imprinted by the tragedy. Likewise there reigned a fit of madness in another Grecian city, which seized only the young maidens; and caused many of them to hang themselves. This was by most then thought an act of the Devil. But one that suspected, that contempt of life in them, might proceed from some passion of the mind, and supposing that they did not contemn also their honour, gave counsel to the magistrates, to strip such as so hanged themselves, and let them hang out naked. This, the story says, cured that madness. But on the other side, the same Grecians, did often ascribe madness to the operation of Eumenides, or Furies; and sometimes of Ceres, Phœbus, and other gods; so much did men attribute to phantasms, as to think them aëreal living bodies; and generally to call them spirits. And as the Romans in this, held the same opinion with the Greeks, so also did the Jews; for they called madmen prophets, or, according as they thought the spirits good or bad, demoniacs: and some of them called both prophets and demoniacs, madmen; and some called the same man both demoniac, and madman. But for the Gentiles it is no wonder, because diseases and health, vices and virtues, and many natural accidents, were with them termed, and worshipped as demons. So that a man was to understand by demon, as well, sometimes an ague, as a devil. But for the Jews to have such opinion, is somewhat strange. For neither Moses nor Abraham pretended to prophecy by possession of a spirit; but from the voice of God; or by a vision or dream: nor is there anything in his law, moral or ceremonial, by which they were taught, there was any such enthusiasm, or any possession. When God is said, (_Numb._ xi. 25) to take from the spirit that was in Moses, and give to the seventy elders, the Spirit of God (taking it for the substance of God) is not divided. The Scriptures, by the Spirit of God in man, mean a man’s spirit, inclined to godliness. And where it is said, (_Exod._ xxiii. 8) “whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom to make garments for Aaron,” is not meant a spirit put into them, that can make garments, but the wisdom of their own spirits in that kind of work. In the like sense, the spirit of man, when it produceth unclean actions, is ordinarily called an unclean spirit, and so other spirits, though not always, yet as often as the virtue or vice so styled, is extraordinary, and eminent. Neither did the other prophets of the old Testament pretend enthusiasm; or, that God spake in them; but to them, by voice, vision, or dream; and the _burthen of the Lord_ was not possession, but command. How then could the Jews fall into this opinion of possession? I can imagine no reason, but that which is common to all men; namely, the want of curiosity to search natural causes: and their placing felicity in the acquisition of the gross pleasures of the senses, and the things that most immediately conduce thereto. For they that see any strange, and unusual ability, or defect, in a man’s mind; unless they see withal, from what cause it may probably proceed, can hardly think it natural; and if not natural, they must needs think it supernatural; and then what can it be, but that either God or the Devil is in him? And hence it came to pass, when our Saviour (_Mark_ iii. 21) was compassed about with the multitude, those of the house doubted he was mad, and went out to hold him: but the Scribes said he had Beelzebub, and that was it, by which he cast out devils; as if the greater madman had awed the lesser: and that (_John_ x. 20) some said, _he hath a devil, and is mad_; whereas others holding him for a prophet, said, _these are not the words of one that hath a devil_. So in the old Testament he that came to anoint Jehu, (_2 Kings_ ix. 11) was a prophet; but some of the company asked Jehu, _what came that madman for?_ So that in sum, it is manifest, that whosoever behaved himself in extraordinary manner, was thought by the Jews to be possessed either with a good, or evil spirit; except by the Sadducees, who erred so far on the other hand, as not to believe there were at all any spirits, which is very near to direct atheism; and thereby perhaps the more provoked others, to term such men demoniacs, rather than madmen.
But why then does our Saviour proceed in the curing of them, as if they were possessed; and not as if they were mad? To which I can give no other kind of answer, but that which is given to those that urge the Scripture in like manner against the opinion of the motion of the earth.
The Scripture was written to shew unto men the kingdom of God, and to prepare their minds to become his obedient subjects; leaving the world, and the philosophy thereof, to the disputation of men, for the exercising of their natural reason. Whether the earth’s, or sun’s motion make the day, and night; or whether the exorbitant actions of men, proceed from passion, or from the devil, so we worship him not, it is all one, as to our obedience, and subjection to God Almighty; which is the thing for which the Scripture was written. As for that our Saviour speaketh to the disease, as to a person; it is the usual phrase of all that cure by words only, as Christ did, and enchanters pretend to do, whether they speak to a devil or not. For is not Christ also said (_Matt._ viii. 26) to have rebuked the winds? Is not he said also (_Luke_ iv. 39) to rebuke a fever? Yet this does not argue that a fever is a devil. And whereas many of the devils are said to confess Christ; it is not necessary to interpret those places otherwise, than that those madmen confessed him. And whereas our Saviour (_Matt._ xii. 43) speaketh of an unclean spirit, that having gone out of a man, wandereth through dry places, seeking rest, and finding none, and returning into the same man, with seven other spirits worse than himself; it is manifestly a parable, alluding to a man, that after a little endeavour to quit his lusts, is vanquished by the strength of them; and becomes seven times worse than he was. So that I see nothing at all in the Scripture, that requireth a belief, that demoniacs were any other thing but madmen.
[Sidenote: Insignificant speech.]
There is yet another fault in the discourses of some men; which may also be numbered amongst the sorts of madness; namely, that abuse of words, whereof I have spoken before in the fifth chapter, by the name of absurdity. And that is, when men speak such words, as put together, have in them no signification at all; but are fallen upon by some, through misunderstanding of the words they have received, and repeat by rote; by others from intention to deceive by obscurity. And this is incident to none but those, that converse in questions of matters incomprehensible, as the School-men; or in questions of abstruse philosophy. The common sort of men seldom speak insignificantly, and are therefore, by those other egregious persons counted idiots. But to be assured their words are without any thing correspondent to them in the mind, there would need some examples; which if any man require, let him take a School-man in his hands and see if he can translate any one chapter concerning any difficult point, as the Trinity; the Deity; the nature of Christ; transubstantiation; free-will, &c. into any of the modern tongues, so as to make the same intelligible; or into any tolerable Latin, such as they were acquainted withal, that lived when the Latin tongue was vulgar.
What is the meaning of these words, _The first cause does not necessarily inflow any thing into the second, by force of the essential subordination of the second causes, by which it may help it to work_?
They are the translation of the title of the sixth chapter of _Suarez’_ first book, _Of the concourse, motion, and help of God_. When men write whole volumes of such stuff, are they not mad, or intend to make others so? And particularly, in the question of transubstantiation; where after certain words spoken; they that say, the white_ness_, round_ness_, magni_tude_, quali_ty_, corruptibili_ty_, all which are incorporeal, &c.
go out of the wafer, into the body of our blessed Saviour, do they not make those _nesses_, _tudes_, and _ties_, to be so many spirits possessing his body? For by spirits, they mean always things, that being incorporeal, are nevertheless moveable from one place to another. So that this kind of absurdity, may rightly be numbered amongst the many sorts of madness; and all the time that guided by clear thoughts of their worldly lust, they forbear disputing, or writing thus, but lucid intervals. And thus much of the virtues and defects intellectual.
------- CHAPTER IX.
OF THE SEVERAL SUBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE.
[Sidenote: Knowledge.]
There are of KNOWLEDGE two kinds; whereof one is _knowledge of fact_: the other _knowledge of the consequence of one affirmation to another_.
The former is nothing else, but sense and memory, and is _absolute knowledge_; as when we see a fact doing, or remember it done: and this is the knowledge required in a witness. The latter is called _science_; and is _conditional_; as when we know, that, _if the figure shown be a circle, then any straight line through the centre shall divide it into two equal parts_. And this is the knowledge required in a philosopher; that is to say, of him that pretends to reasoning.
The register of _knowledge of fact_ is called _history_. Whereof there be two sorts: one called _natural history_; which is the history of such facts, or effects of nature, as have no dependence on man’s _will_; such as are the histories of _metals_, _plants_, _animals_, _regions_, and the like. The other, is _civil history_; which is the history of the voluntary actions of men in commonwealths.
The registers of science, are such _books_ as contain the _demonstrations_ of consequences of one affirmation, to another; and are commonly called _books of philosophy_; whereof the sorts are many, according to the diversity of the matter; and may be divided in such manner as I have divided them in the following table.
{ Consequences from the accidents { common to all bodies natural; { which are _quantity_, and _motion_.
{ Consequences { { from the { 1. Of consequences from the _institution_ { accidents of { of COMMONWEALTHS, to the _rights_, and { which is { { called { { POLITICS, { 2. Of consequences from the same, to the { and CIVIL { _duty_ and _right_ of the _subjects_.
{ PHILOSOPHY. { Consequences from quantity, and motion _indeterminate_; { PHILOSOPHIA which being the principles or first foundation of { PRIMA.
philosophy, is called _Philosophia Prima_. { { Consequences { By Figure. } { GEOMETRY.
Consequences { determined. { By Number. } { ARITHMETIC.
from motion { and quantity { { Consequences } { from the { motion and } { motion, and { quantity of } { ASTRONOMY.
{ bodies in { parts of the } { GEOGRAPHY.
{ body. } METEOROLOGY.
{ Consequences from the _light_ of the stars. Out of } SCIOGRAPHY.
{ this, and the motion of the sun, is made the science of } { { Consequences from the _influences_ of the stars } ASTROLOGY.
{ Consequences { Consequences from the qualities of { parts of the { { earth, that { { are _without { { sense_. { Consequences from the qualities of { { _vegetables_.
{ { from the { Consequences from _sounds_ MUSIC.
{ { qualities of { { { _animals { Consequences from the rest { from the { { qualities of { { Consequences from the { ETHICS.
{ qualities of { from { In _reasoning_, LOGIC.
special_. { of JUST and { UNJUST.
------- CHAPTER X.
OF POWER, WORTH, DIGNITY, HONOUR, AND WORTHINESS.
[Sidenote: Power.]
The POWER _of a man_, to take it universally, is his present means; to obtain some future apparent good; and is either _original_ or _instrumental_.
_Natural power_, is the eminence of the faculties of body, or mind: as extraordinary strength, form, prudence, arts, eloquence, liberality, nobility. _Instrumental_ are those powers, which acquired by these, or by fortune, are means and instruments to acquire more: as riches, reputation, friends, and the secret working of God, which men call good luck. For the nature of power, is in this point, like to fame, increasing as it proceeds; or like the motion of heavy bodies, which the further they go, make still the more haste.
The greatest of human powers, is that which is compounded of the powers of most men, united by consent, in one person, natural, or civil, that has the use of all their powers depending on his will; such as is the power of a common-wealth: or depending on the wills of each particular; such as is the power of a faction or of divers factions leagued.
Therefore to have servants, is power; to have friends, is power: for they are strengths united.
Also riches joined with liberality, is power; because it procureth friends, and servants: without liberality, not so; because in this case they defend not; but expose men to envy, as a prey.
Reputation of power, is power; because it draweth with it the adherence of those that need protection.
So is reputation of love of a man’s country, called popularity, for the same reason.
Also, what quality soever maketh a man beloved, or feared of many; or the reputation of such quality, is power; because it is a means to have the assistance, and service of many.
Good success is power; because it maketh reputation of wisdom, or good fortune; which makes men either fear him, or rely on him.
Affability of men already in power, is increase of power; because it gaineth love.
Reputation of prudence in the conduct of peace or war, is power; because to prudent men, we commit the government of ourselves, more willingly than to others.
Nobility is power, not in all places, but only in those commonwealths, where it has privileges: for in such privileges, consisteth their power.
Eloquence is power, because it is seeming prudence.
Form is power; because being a promise of good, it recommendeth men to the favour of women and strangers.
The sciences, are small power; because not eminent; and therefore, not acknowledged in any man; nor are at all, but in a few, and in them, but of a few things. For science is of that nature, as none can understand it to be, but such as in a good measure have attained it.
Arts of public use, as fortification, making of engines, and other instruments of war; because they confer to defence, and victory, are power: and though the true mother of them, be science, namely the mathematics; yet, because they are brought into the light, by the hand of the artificer, they be esteemed, the midwife passing with the vulgar for the mother, as his issue.
[Sidenote: Worth.]