A wise tongue should not be licentious, and wand- Lingua ring; but mov'd, and (as it were) govern'd with sapientis. certaine raines from the heart, and bottome of the brest: and it was excellently said of that Philosopher; that there was a Wall, or Parapet of teeth set in our mouth, to restraine the petulancy of our words: that the rashnesse of talking should not only bee retarded by the guard, and watch of our heart; but be fenced in, and defended by certaine strengths, placed in the mouth it selfe, and within the lips. But you shall see some, so abound with words without any seasoning or taste of matter, in so profound a security, as while they are speaking, for the most part, they confesse to speake they know not what. Of the two (if either were to bee wisht) I would Potius rather have a plaine downe-right wisdome, then a quàm lot quents:/C foolish and affected eloquence. For what is so furious, and Bet'lem like, as a vaine sound of chosen and excellent words, without any subject of sentence, or science mix'd? Whom the disease of talking still once possesseth, Optanda. hee can never hold his peace. Nay, rather then hee will not discourse, hee will hire men to heare him. And so heard, not hearkn'd unto, hee comes off most times like a Mountebanke, that when hee hath prais'd his medicines, finds none will take them, or trust Thersites him. Hee is like Homers Thersites. (92) Α'μετροεπής Ακριτόμοθος : speaking without judge- Salust. ment, Loquax magis, quàm fœcundus. Homeri. Hesiodus. Homeri Vlysses. Pindar: Epaminond. De Γλώσσης τοι θησαυρὸς ἐν ἀνθρώποιον ἄριστος Vlysses in Homer, is made a long thinking man, before hee speaks; and Epaminondas is celebrated by Pindar, to be a man, that though he knew much, yet hee spoke but little. Demacatus, when on the Bench he was long silent, and said nothing; one Vid. asking him, if it were folly in him, or want of Zeuxidis language? hee answer'd: A foole could never hold his pict. serm. ad Mega- peace. For too much talking is ever the Indice of a foole. macatus Plutarchi. bizum Plutarch. Argute dictum. Dum tacet indoctus, poterit cordatus haberi ; Is morbos animi namá, tacendo tegit. Nor is that worthy speech of Zeno, the Philosopher to be past over, without the note of ignorance: who being invited to a feast in Athens, where a great Princes Ambassadours were entertain'd, and was the onely person had said nothing at the table; one of them with courtesie asked him; What shall we returne from thee, Zeno, to the Prince our Master, if hee aske us of thee? Nothing, he replyed, more, but that you found an old man in Athens, that knew to be silent amongst his cups. It was nere a Miracle, to see an old man silent; since talking is the disease of Age: but amongst cups makes it fully a wonder. It was wittily said upon one, that was taken for a great, and grave man, so long as hee held his peace: This man might have beene a Counsellor of State till he spoke: But having spoken, not the Beadle of Ари the Ward. E'xeuvola, Pythag. quàm laudabilis! Vide γλωσσῆς πρὸ τῶν ἄλλων κράτει, θεοὶς ἐπόμενος teium. Linguam cohibe, præ aliis omnibus, ad Deorum *Iuvenal. exemplum, *Digito com pesce labellum. Acutiùs cernuntur vitia, Trin. Act. 2. Scan. 6. There is almost no man, but hee sees clearlier, and sharper, the vices in a speaker, then the vertues. And quàm there are many, that with more ease, will find fault virtutes. with what is spoken foolishly, then that can give allowance to, wherein you are wise silently. The treasure of a foole is alwayes in his tongue (said the Plautus. witty comick Poet) and it appeares not in any thing more, then in that nation; whereof one when hee had got the inheritance of an unlucky old Grange, would'needs sell it; and to draw buyers, proclaim'd, the vertues of it. Nothing ever thriv'd on it (saith he.) No owner of it, ever dyed in his bed; some hung, some drown'd themselves; some were banisht, some starv'd; the trees were all blasted, the Swyne dyed of the Measils, the Cattell of the Murren; the Sheepe of the Rot; they that stood were ragg'd, bare, and bald, as your hand; nothing was ever rear'd there; not a Duckling, or a Goose. Hospitium fuerat calamitatis. Was not this man like to sell it? Expectation of the Vulgar is more drawne, and held with newnesse, then goodnesse; wee see it in Fencers, in Players, in Poets, in Preachers, in all, where Fame promiseth any thing; so it be now, though never so naught, and depraved, they run to it, and are taken. Which shewes, that the only decay, or hurt of the best mens reputation with the people, is, their wits (93) have out-liv'd the peoples Sim. Mart. lib. 1. ep. 85. Vulgi expec tatio. palats. They have beene too much, or too long a feast. Greatnesse of name in the Father, oft times helpes not forth, but o'rewhelmes the Sonne: they stand too neere one another. The shadow kils the growth; so much, that wee see the Grand-child come more, and oftner to be the heire of the first, then doth the second: He dies betweene; the Possession is the thirds. Eloquence is a great, and diverse thing: Nor did she yet ever favour any man so much, as to become wholly his. Hee is happy, that can arrive to any degree of her grace. Yet there are, who prove themselves Masters of her, and absolute Lords: but I beleeve, they may mistake their evidence: For it is one thing to be eloquent in the Schooles, or in the Hall; another at the Barre, or in the Pulpit. There is a difference betweene Mooting, and Pleading; betweene Fencing, and Fighting. To make Arguments in my Study, and confute them is easie; where I answer my selfe, not an Adversary. So, I can see whole volumes dispatch'd by the vmbraticall Doctors on all sides: But draw these forth into the just lists; let them appeare sub dio, and they are chang'd with the place, like bodies bred i' the shade; they cannot suffer the Sunne, or a Showre; nor beare the open Ayre: they scarce can find themselves, that they were wont to domineere so among their Auditors: but indeed I would no more chuse a Rhetorician, for reigning in a Schoole; then I would a Pilot, for rowing in a Pond. Love, that is ignorant, and Hatred have almost the same ends: many foolish Lovers wish the same to their friends, which their enemies would: As to wish a friend banish't, that they might accompany him in exile: or some great want, that they might relieve him: or a disease, that they might sit by him. They make a Cawsway to their countrey by Injury; as if it were not honester to do nothing, then to seeke a way to doe good, by a Mischefe. Injuries doe not extinguish courtesies: they only Injuria. suffer them not to appeare faire. For a man that doth me an injury after a courtesie, takes not away the courtesie, but defaces it: As he that writes other verses upon my verses, takes not away the first Letters, but hides them. Nothing is a courtesie, unlesse it be meant us; and Beneficia. that friendly, and lovingly. Wee owe no thankes to Rivers, that they carry our boats; or Winds, that they be favouring, and fill our sayles; or meats, that they be nourishing. For these are, what they are necessarily. Horses carry us, Trees shade us; but they know it not. It is true, some man may receive a Courtesie, and not know it; but never any man received it from him, that knew it not. Many men have beene cur'd of diseases by Accidents; but they were not Remedies. I my selfe have knowne one help'd of an Ague, by falling into a water; another whip'd out of a Fever: but no man would ever use these for med'cines. It is the mind, and not the event, that distinguisheth the courtesie from wrong. My Adversary may offend the Judge with his pride, and impertinences, and I win my cause: but he |