Paradoxes Problems Essays Characters, Part 1
PARADOXES.
I. A Defence of Womens Inconstancy.
THat Women are Inconstant, I with any man confess, but that Inconstancy is a bad quality, I against any man will maintain: For every thing as it is one better than another, so is it fuller of change; The Heavens themselves continually turn, the Stars move, the Moon changeth; Fire whirleth, Aire flyeth, Water ebbs and flowes, the face of the Earth altereth her looks, time staies not; the Colour that is most light, will take most dyes: so in Men, they that have the most reason are the most inalterable in their designes, and the darkest or most ignorant, do seldomest change; therfore Women changing more than Men, have also more Reason. They cannot be immutable like stocks, like stones, like the Earths dull Center; Gold that lyeth still, rusteth; Water, corrupteth; Aire that moveth not, poysoneth; then why should that which is the perfection of other things, be imputed to Women as greatest imperfection? Because thereby they deceive Men. Are not your wits pleased with those jests, which cozen your expectation? You can cal it pleasure to be beguil'd in troubles, and in the most excellent toy in the world, you call it Treachery: I would you had your Mistresses so constant, that they would never change, no not so much as their smocks, then should you see what sluttish vertue, Constancy were. Inconstancy is a most commendable and cleanly quality, and Women in this quality are far more absolute than the Heavens, than the Stars, Moon, or any thing beneath it; for long observation hath pickt certainty out of their mutability. The Learned are so well acquainted with the Stars, Signes and Planets, that they make them but Characters, to read the meaning of the Heaven in his own forehead. Every simple fellow can bespeak the change of the Moon a great while beforehand: but I would fain have the learnedst man so skilfull, as to tell when the simplest Woman meaneth to vary. Learning affords no rules to know, much less knowledge to rule the minde of a Woman. For as Philosophy teacheth us, that Light things do always tend upwards, and heavy things decline downward; Experience teacheth us otherwise, that the disposition of a Light Woman, is to fall down, the nature of women being contrary to all Art and Nature. Women are like Flies, which feed among us at our Table, or Fleas sucking our very blood, who leave not our most retired places free from their familiarity, yet for all their fellowship will they never be tamed nor commanded by us. Women are like the Sun, which is violently carried one way, yet hath a proper course contrary: so though they, by the mastery of some over-ruling churlish husbands, are forced to his Byas, yet have they a motion of their own, which their husbands never know of: It is the nature of nice and fastidious mindes to know things only to be wary of them: Women by their slye changeableness, and pleasing doubleness, prevent even the mislike of those, for they can never be so well known, but that there is still more unknown. Every woman is a Science; for he that plods upon a woman all his life long, shall at length finde himself short of the knowledge of her: they are born to take down the pride of wit, and ambition of wisdom, making fools wise in the adventuring to win them, wisemen fools in conceit of losing their labours; witty men stark mad, being confounded with their uncertainties. Philosophers write against them for spight, not desert, that having attained to some knowledge in all other things, in them only they know nothing, but are meerly ignorant: Active and Experienced men rail against them, because they love in their liveless and decrepit age, when all goodness leaves them. These envious Libellers ballad against them, because having nothing in themselvs able to deserve their love, they maliciously discommend all they cannot obtain, thinking to make men believe they know much, because they are able to dispraise much, and rage against Inconstancy, when they were never admitted into so much favour as to be forsaken. In mine opinion such men are happie that women are Inconstant, for so may they chance to be beloved of some excellent woman when it comes to their turn out of their Inconstancy and mutability, though not out of their own desert. And what reason is there to clog any woman with one man, be he never so singular? Women had rather, and it is far better and more Judicial to enjoy all the vertues in several men, than but some of them in one, for otherwise they lose their taste, like divers sorts of meat minced together in one dish: and to have all excellencies in one man (if it were possible) is Confusion and Diversity. Now who can deny, but such as are obstinately bent to undervalue their worth, are those that have not soul enough to comprehend their excellency, women being the most excellent Creatures, in that man is able to subject all things else, and to grow wise in every thing, but still persists a fool in woman? The greatest Scholler, if he once take a wife, is found so unlearned, that he must begin his Horn-book, and all is by Inconstancy. To conclude therefore; this name of Inconstancy, which hath so much been poysoned with slanders, ought to be changed into variety, for the which the world is so delightfull, and a woman for that the most delightfull thing in this world.
II. That Women ought to Paint.
FOulness is Lothsome: can that be so which helps it? who forbids his beloved to gird in her waste? to mend by shooing her uneven lameness? to burnish her teeth? or to perfume her breath? yet that the Face be more precisely regarded, it concerns more: For as open confessing sinners are always punished, but the wary and concealing offenders without witness, do it also without punishment; so the secret parts needs the less respect; but of the Face, discovered to all Examinations and surveys, there is not too nice a Jealousie. Nor doth it only draw the busie Eyes, but it is subject to the divinest touch of all, to kissing, the strange and mystical union of souls. If she should prostitute her self to a more unworthy man than thy self, how earnestly and justly wouldst thou exclaim? that for want of this easier and ready way of repairing, tobetray her body to ruine and deformity (the tyrannous Ravishers, and sodain Deflourers of all women) what a hainous adultery is it? What thou lovest in her face is colour, and painting gives that, but thou hatest it, not because it is, but because thou knowest it. Fool, whom ignorance makes happy, the Stars, the Sun, the Skye whom thou admirest, alas, have no colour, but are fair, because they seem to be coloured: If this seeming will not satisfie thee in her, thou hast good assurance of her colour, when thou seest her lay it on. If her face be painted on a Board or Wall, thou wilt love it, and the Board, and the Wall: Canst thou loath it then when it speaks, smiles, and kisses, because it is painted? Are we not more delighted with seeing Birds, Fruits, and Beasts painted then we are with Naturals? And do we not with pleasure behold the painted shape of Monsters and Devils, whom true, we durst not regard? We repair the ruines of our houses, but first cold tempests warns us of it, and bites us through it; we mend the wrack and stains of our apparel, but first our eyes, and other bodies are offended; but by this providence of Women, this is prevented. If in Kissing or breathing upon her, the painting fall off, thou art angry, wilt thou be so, if it stick on? Thou didst love her, if thou beginnest to hate her, then 'tis because she is not painted. If thou wilt say now, thou didst hate her before, thou didst hate her and love her together, be constant in something, and love her who shews her great love to thee, in taking this pains to seem lovely to thee.
III. That by Discord things increase.
Nullos esse Deos, inane Coelum Affirmat Coelius, probat que quod se Factum vidit, dum negat haec, beatum.
SO I assevere this the more boldly, because while I maintain it, and feel the Contrary repugnancies and adverse fightings of the Elements in my Body, my Body increaseth; and whilst I differ from common opinions by this Discord, the number of my Paradoxes increaseth. All the rich benefits we can frame to our selves in Concord, is but an Even conservation of things; in which Evenness vve can expect no change, no motion; therefore no increase or augmentation, which is a member of motion. And if this unity and peace can give increase to things, how mightily is discord and war to that purpose, which are indeed the only ordinary Parents of Peace. Discord is never so barren that it affords no fruit; for the fall of one estate is at the worst the increaser of another, because it is as impossible to finde a discommodity without advantage, as to finde Corruption without Generation: But it is the Nature and Office of Concord to preserve onelyonly, which property when it leaves, it differs from it self, which is the greatest discord of all. All Victories and Emperies gained by war, and all Iudiciall decidings of doubts in peace, I do claim children of Discord. And who can deny but Controversies in Religion are grown greater by Discord, and not the Controversie, but Religion it self: For in a troubled misery men are always more Religious then in a secure peace. The number of good men, the only charitable nourishers of Concord, we see is thin, and daily melts and wains; but of bad discording it is infinite, and growes hourly. We are ascertained of all Disputable doubts, only by arguing and differing in Opinion, and if formal disputation (which is but a painted, counterfeit, and dissembled discord) can work us this benefit, what shall not a full and main discord accomplish? Truely me thinks I owe a devotion, yea a sacrifice to discord, for casting that Ball upon Ida, and for all that business of Troy, whom ruin'd I admire more then Babylon, Rome, or Quinzay, removed Corners, not only fulfilled with her fame, but with Cities and Thrones planted by her Fugitives. Lastly, between Cowardice and despair, Valour is gendred; and so the Discord of Extreams begets all vertues, but of the like things there is no issue without a miracle:
Vxor pessima, pessimus maritus
Miror tam malè convenire.
He wonders that between two so like, there could be any discord, yet perchance for all this discord there was ne're the less increase.
IV. That Good is more common then Evil.
I Have not been so pittifully tired with any vanity, as with silly Old Mens exclaiming against these times, and extolling their own: Alas! they betray themselves, for if the times be changed, their manners have changed them. But their senses are to pleasures, as sick mens tastes are to Liquors; for indeed no new thing is done in the world, all things are what, and as they were, and Good is as ever it was, more plenteous, and must of necessity be more common then Evil, because it hath this for nature and perfection to be common. It makes Love to all Natures, all, all affect it. So that in the worlds early Infancy, there was a time when nothing was evil, but if this world shall suffer dotage in the extreamest crookedness thereof, there shall be no time when nothing shall be good. It dares appear and spread, and glister in the world, but evil buries it self in night and darkness, and is chastised and suppressed when good is cherished and rewarded And as Imbroderers, Lapidaries, and other Artisans, can by all things adorn their works; for by adding better things, the better they shew in Lush and in eminency; so good doth not only prostrate her amiableness to all, but refuses no end, no not of her utter contrary evil, that she may be the more common to us. For evil manners are parents of good Laws; and in every evil there is an excellency, which (in common speech) we call good. For the fashions of habits, for our moving in gestures, for phrases in our speech, we say they were good as long as they were used, that is as long as they were common; and we eat, we walk, only when it is, or seems good to do so. All fair, all profitable, all vertuous, is, good, and these three things I think imbrace all things, but their utter contraries; of which also fair may be rich and vertuous; poor may be vertuous and fair; vitious may be fair and rich; so that good hath this good means to be common, that some subjects she can possess intirely; and in subjects poysoned with evil, she can humbly stoop to accompany the evil. And of indifferent things many things are become perfectly good by being common, as customs by use are made binding Laws. But I remember nothing that is therefore ill, because it is common, but women, of whom also; They that are most common, are the best of that Occupation they profess.
V. That all things kill themselves.
TO affect, yea to effect their own death all living things are importuned, not by Nature only which perfects them, but by Art and Education, which perfects her. Plants quickened and inhabited by the most unworthy soul, which therefore neither will nor work, affect an end, a perfection, a death; this they spend their spirits to attain, this attained, they languish and wither. And by how much more they are by mans Industry warmed, cherished and pampered; so much the more early they climb to this perfection, this death. And if amongst men not to defend be to kill, what a hainous self, murther is it, not to defend it self. This defence because Beasts neglect, they kill themselves, because they exceed us in number, strength, and a lawless liberty: yea, of Horses and other beasts, they that inherit most courage by being bred of gallantest parents, and by Artificial nursing are bettered, will run to their own deaths, neither sollicited by spurs which they need not, nor by honour which they apprehend not. If then the valiant kill himself, who can excuse the Coward? Or how shall man be free from this, since the first man taught us this, except we cannot kill our selves, because he kill'd us all. Yet least something should repair this common ruine, we daily kill our bodies with surfeits, and our minds with anguishes. Of our powers, remembring kils our memory: Of affections, Lusting our lust; Of vertues, Giving kils liberality. And if these kil themselves, they do it in their best and supream perfection: for after perfection immediately follows excess, which changeth the natures and the names, and makes them not the same things. If then the best things kill themselves soonest, (for no affection endures, and all things labour to this perfection) all travel to their own death, yea the frame of the whole world, if it were possible for God to be idle, yet because it began, must die. Then in this idleness imagined in God, what could kill the world but it self, since out of it, nothing is?
VI. That it is possible to finde some vertue in some Women.
I Am not of that seard Impudence that I dare defend Women, or pronounce them good, yet we see Physitians allow some vertue in every poyson. Alas! why should we except Women? since cerrtainly they are good for Physick at least, so as some wine is good for a feaver. And though they be the Occasioners of many sins, they are also the Punishers and Revengers of the same sins: For I have seldom seen one which consumes his substance and body upon them, escape diseases, or beggery; and this is their Justice. And if suum cuique dare, be the fulfilling of all Civil Iustice, they are most just; for they deny that which is theirs to no man,
Tanquam non liceat nulla puella negat.
And who may doubt of great wisdome in them, that doth but observe with how much labour and cunning our Iusticers and other dispensers of the Laws studie to imbrace them: and how zealously our Preachers dehort men from them, only by urging their subtilties and policies, and wisdom, which are in them? Or who can deny them a good measure of Fortitude, if he consider how valiant men they have overthrown, and being themselvs overthrown, how much and how patiently they bear? And though they be most intemperate, I care not, for I undertook to furnish them with some vertue, not with all. Necessity, which makes even bad things good, prevails also for them, for we must say of them, as of some sharp pinching Laws; If men were free from infirmities, they were needless. These or none must serve for reasons, and it is my great happiness that Examples prove not Rules, for to confirm this Opinion, the World yeilds not one Example.
VII. That Old men are more Fantastick then Young.
WHo reads this Paradox but thinks me more fantastick now, than I was yesterday, when I did not think thus: And if one day make this sensible change in men, what will the burthen of many years? To be fantastick in young men is conceitfull distemperature, and a witty madness; but in old men, whose senses are withered, it becomes natural, therfore more full and perfect. For as when we sleep our fancy is most strong; so it is in age, which is a slumber of the deep sleep of death. They tax us of Inconstancy, which in themselves young they allowed; so that reproving that which they did approve, their Inconstancy exceedeth ours, because they have changed once more then we. Yea, they are more idlely busied in conceited apparel than we; for we, when we are melancholy, wear black; when lusty, green; when forsaken, tawny; pleasing our own inward affections, leaving them to others indifferent; but they prescribe laws, and constrain the Noble, the Scholler, the Merchant, and all Estates to a certain habit. The old men of our time have changed with patience their own bodies, much of their laws, much of their languages; yea their Religion, yet they accuse us. To be Amorous is proper and natural in a young man, but in an old man most fantastick. And that ridling humour of Iealousie, which seeks and would not finde, which requires and repents his knowledg, is in them most common, yet most fantastike. Yea, that which falls never in young men, is in them most fantastike and naturall, that is, Covetousnesse; even at their journeys end to make great provision. Is any habit of young men so fantastike, as in the hottest seasons to be double-gowned or hooded like our Elders? Or seemes it so ridiculous to weare long haire, as to weare none. Truely, as among the Philosophers, the Skeptike, which doubts all, was more contentious, then either the Dogmatick which affirmes, or Academike which denies all; so are these uncertain Elders, which both cals them fantastick which follow others inventions, and them also which are led by their own humorous suggestion, more fantastick then other.
VIII. That Nature is our Worst Guid.
SHall she be guide to all Creatures, which is her self one? Or if she also have a guide, shall any Creature have a better guide then we? The affections of lust and anger, yea even to err is natural, shall we follow these? Can she be a good guide to us, which hath corrupted not us only but her self? was not the first Man, by the desire of knowledge, corrupted even in the whitest integrity of Nature? And did not Nature, (if Nature did any thing) infuse into him this desire of knowledge, and so this corruption in him, into us? If by Nature we shall understand our essence, our definition or reason, nobleness, then this being alike common to all (the Idiot and the Wizard being equally reasonable) why should not all men having equally all one nature, follow one course? Or if we shall understand our incli nations: alas! how unable a guide is that which follows the temperature of our slimie bodies? for we cannot say that we derive our inclinations, our minds, or souls from our Parents by any way: to say that it is all from all, is error in reason, for then with the first nothing remains, or is a part from all, is error in experience, for then this part equally imparted to many children, would like Gavel-kind lands, in few generations become nothing: or to say it by communication, is error in Divinity, for to communicate the ability of communicating whole essence with any but God, is utter blasphemy. And if thou hit thy Fathers nature and inclination, he also had his Fathers, and so climbing up, all comes of one man, and have one nature, all shall imbrace one course; but that cannot be, therefore our complexions and whole bodies, we inherit from Parents; our inclinations and minds follow that: For our minde is heavy in our bodies afflictions, and rejoyceth in our bodies pleasure: how then shall this nature governe us that is governed by the worst part of us? Nature though oft chased away, it will return; 'tis true, but those good motions and inspirations which be our guides must be wooed, courted, and welcomed, or else they abandon us. And that old Axiome, nihil invita, &c. must not be said thou shalt, but thou wilt doe nothing against Nature; so unwilling he notes us to curbe our naturall appetites. Wee call our bastards alwayes our naturall issue and we define a Foole by nothing so ordinary, as by the name of naturall. And that poore knowledg whereby we conceive what rain is, what wind, what thunder, we call Metaphysicke, supernaturall; such small things, such no things do we allow to our pliant Natures apprehension. Lastly, by following her we lose the pleasant, and lawfull commodities of this life, for we shall drinke water and eate rootes, and those not sweet and delicate, as now by Mans art and industry they are made: we shall lose all the necessities of societies, lawes, arts, and sciences, which are all the workemanship of Man: yea we shall lack the last best refuge of misery, death, because no death is naturall: for if yee will not dare to call all death violent (though I see not why sicknesses be not violences) yet causes of all deaths proceed of the defect of that which nature made perfect, and would preserve; and therefore all against nature.
IX. That only Cowards dare die.
EXtreames are equally removed from the meane; so that headlong desperatenesse asmuch offends true valour, as backward Cowardice: of which sort I reckon justly all un-inforced deaths. When will your valiant man die of necessity? so Cowards suffer what cannot be avoided: and to run into death unimportun'd is to run into the first condemned de sperateness. Will he die when he is rich and happie? then by living he may do more good: and in afflictions and miseries, death is the chosen refuge of Cowards.
Fortiter ille facit qui miser esse potest.
But it is taught and practised among our Gallants, that rather than our reputations suffer any maim, or we any misery, we shall offer our breasts to the Cannons mouth, yea to our swords points: And this seems a very brave and a very climbing (which is a Cowardly, earthly, and indeed a very groveling) spirit. vvhy do they chain these slaves to the Gallies, but that they thrust their deaths, and would at every loose leap into the Sea? vvhy do they take weapons from condemned men, but to barr them of that ease which Cowards affect, a speedy death. Truely this life is a tempest, and a warfare, and he which dares die, to escape the anguish of it, seems to me, but so valiant, as he which dares hang himself, least he be prest to the wars. I have seen one in that extremity of Melancholy, which was then become madness, to make his own breath an Instrument to stay his breath, and labour to choak himself; but alas! he was mad. And we knew another that languished under the oppression of a poor disgrace, so much, that he took more pains to die, then would have served to have nourished life and spirit enough to have out-liv'd his disgrace. vvhat Fool will call this Cowardlyness, Valour? or this Baseness, Humility? And lastly, of these men which die the Allegoricall death of entring into Religion, how few are found fit for any shew of valiancy? but onelyonly a soft and supple metal, made only for Cowardly solitariness.
X. That a Wise Man is known by much laughing.
RIdi, si sapis, ô puella ride; If thou beest wise, laugh: for since the powers of discourse, reason, and laughter, be equally proper unto Man only, why shall not he be only most wise, which hath most use of laughing, as well as he which hath most of reasoning and discoursing? I always did, and shall understand that Adage;
Per risum multum possis cognoscere stultum,
That by much laughing thou maist know there is a fool, not, that the laughers are fools, but that among them there is some fool, at whom wise men laugh: which moved Erasmus to put this as his first Argument in the mouth of his Folly, that she made Beholders laugh: for fools are the most laughed at, and laugh the least themselves of any. And Nature saw this faculty to be so necessary in man, that she hath been content that by more causes we should be importuned to laugh, than to the exercise of any other power; for things in themselves utterly contrary, beget this effect; for we laugh both at witty and absurd things: At both which sorts I have seen men laugh so long, and so earnestly, that at last they have wept that they could laugh no more. And therefore the Poet having described the quietness of a wise retired man, saith in one, what we have said before in many lines; Quid facit Canius tuus? ridet. We have received that even the extremity of laughing, yea of weeping also, hath been accounted wisdom: and that Democritus and Heraclitus, the lovers of these Extreams, have been called lovers of Wisdom. Now among our wise men I doubt not but many would be found, who would laugh at Heraclitus weeping, none which weep at Democritus laughing. At the hearing of Comedies or other witty reports, I have noted some, which not understanding jests; &c. have yet chosen this as the best means to seem wise and understanding, to laugh when their Companions laugh; and I have presumed them ignorant, whom I have seen unmoved. A fool if he come into a Princes Court, and see a gay man leaning at the wall, so glistring, and so painted in many colours that he is hardly discerned from one of the Pictures in the Arras, hanging his body like an Iron-bound chest, girt in and thick rib'd with broad gold laces, may (and commonly doth) envy him. But alas! shall a wise man, which may not only not envy, but not pitty this Monster, do nothing? Yes, let him laugh. And if one of these hot cholerick firebrands, which nourish themselves by quarrelling, and kindling others, spit upon a fool one sparke of disgrace, he, like a thatcht house quickly burning, may be angry; but the wise man, as cold as the Salamander, may not only not be angry with him, but not be sorry for him; therefore let him laugh: so he shall be known a Man, because he can laugh, a wise Man that he knows at what to laugh, and a valiant Man that he dares laugh: for he that laughs is justly reputed more wise, then at whom it is laughed. And hence I think proceeds that which in these later formal times I have much noted; that now when our superstitious civilitie of manners is become a mutuall tickling flattery of one another, almost every man affecteth an humour of jesting, and is content to be deject, and to deform himself, yea become fool to no other end that I can spie, but to give his wise Companion occasion to laugh; and to shew themselves in promptness of laughing is so great in wise men, that I think all wise men, if any wise man do read this Paradox, will laugh both at it and me.
XI. That the Gifts of the Body are better then those of the Minde.
I Say again, that the body makes the minde, not that it created it a minde, but forms it a good or a bad minde; and this minde may be confounded with soul without any violence or injustice to Reason or Philosophy: then the soul it seems is enabled by our Body, not this by it. My Body licenseth my soul to see the worlds beauties through mine eyes: to hear pleasant things through mine ears; and affords it apt Organs for the convenience of all perceivable delight. But alas! my soul cannot make any part, that is not of it self disposed to see or hear, though without doubt she be as able and as willing to see behinde as before. Now if my soul would say, that she enables any part to taste these pleasures, but is her selfe only delighted with those rich sweetnesses which her inward eyes and senses apprehend, shee should dissemble; for I see her often solaced with beauties, which shee sees through mine eyes, and with musicke which through mine eares she heares. This perfection then my body hath, that it can impart to my minde all his pleasures; and my mind hath still many, that she can neither teach my indisposed part her faculties, nor to the best espoused parts shew it beauty of Angels, of Musicke, of Spheres, whereof she boasts the contemplation. Are chastity, temperance, and fortitude gifts of the minde? I appeale to Physitians whether the cause of these be not in the body; health is the gift of the body, and patience in sicknesse the gift of the minde: then who will say that patience is as good a happinesse, as health, when wee must be extremely miserable to purchase this happinesse. And for nourishing of civill societies and mutuall love amongst men, which is our chief end while we are men; I say, this beauty, presence, and proportion of the body, hath a more masculine force in begetting this love, then the vertues of the minde: for it strikes us suddenly, and possesseth us immoderately; when to know those vertues require some Iudgement in him which shall discerne, a long time and conversation between them. And even at last how much of our faith and beleefe shal we be driven to bestow, to assure our selves that these vertues are not counterfeited: for it is the same to be, and seem vertuous, because that he that hath no vertue can dissemble none, but he which hath a little, may gild and enamell, yea and transforme much vice into vertue: For allow a man to be discreet and flexible to complaints, which are great vertuous gifts of the minde, this discretion will be to him the soule and Elixir of all vertues, so that touched with this even pride shall be made humility; and Cowardice, honourable and wise valour. But in things seen there is not this danger, for the body which thou lovest and esteemest faire, is faire: certainly if it be not faire in perfection, yet it is faire in the same degree that thy Iudgment is good. And in a faire body, I do seldom suspect a disproportioned minde, and as seldome hope for a good in a deformed. When I see a goodly house, I assure my selfe of a worthy possessour, from a ruinous weather-beaten building I turn away, because it seems either stuffed with varlots as a Prison, or handled by an unworthy and negligent tenant, that so suffers the wast therof. And truly the gifts of Fortune, which are riches, are only handmaids, yea Pandars of the bodies pleasure; with their service we nourish health, and preserve dainty, and wee buy delights so that vertue which must be loved for it selfe, and respects no further end, is indeed nothing: And riches, whose end is the good of the body, cannot be so perfectly good, as the end whereto it levels.