An Introduction to the Teutonic Philosophy, Dedication – Poem 2
To the Right Worthy, the Vice-Chancellour, and the Honourable Univerſity of Cambridge.
Be health and happineſſe.
THat I have made bold to take up again, and revive with your honourable Patronage this ſmall work, by this time well nigh dead and buried, expoſing it to publique view; we hope, will by you be eſteemed neither unbeſeeming your honour, nor beneath our duty.
Your noble favor and patience, whoſe ſweet company carried me on with pleaſure through the burdens of that office you were once pleaſed to honor me with, and which cheared the delivery of theſe rugged Notions, ſets me in the debt of infinite obligations; which till I can diſcharge, be pleas'd to accept this ſcroll of paper as a Bond.
And truly, while I was thus meditateing thankfulneſſe; the report, that theſe eſſayes, and my ſelf were by ſome adjudged both hereticall, added vigour to my firſt reſolution; ſeeing I muſt needs eſteem their opinion, onelyonly a defect of memory and advertency, whom that I might fully ſatisfie with all well-meaning men, I have ſet Pen to Paper, and publiſhed them in the ſame dreſſe my memory did then ſuggeſt them to my tongue.
Now, of the matter let the learned judge: For what concernes my ſelfe, I wonder thoſe good men did not perceive, Firſt, That I ſet before them anothers Philoſophy, not mine owne; Secondly, That my ſelfe likewiſe ſtood aloofe from peremptory aſſent to ſome of thoſe things that were delivered; Thirdly, wellknowing in what uneven way I travelled, nor ſufficiently confiding in the ſupport of mine owne judgement, I begged, and I hope obtained pardon of all mine errours; which leſt I ſhould faile of in the publication, I have adjoyned the Epilogue then uſed, which I doubt not but will be ſucceſſefull to both.
And certainly if pardon belong to any, it is to the ſilent, ſolemn Sceptick, whoſe opinions are not brought forth as the onelyonly heires-male to all humane aſſent, invading the worlds freedom with fire, faggot, and thunder.
And may I be in the bed-route of thoſe Seekers, that diſtruſting the known and experienced deceits of their owne reaſon, walk unfetterr'd in the queſt of truth, with an eaſie ſuſpitious gate, not hunting thoſe poore ſoules with Dogge and Speare, whoſe dimme ſight hath led them into deſert and unbeaten paths.
Certainly, more ſoules have crept to the throne of Wiſdome; with the thin-ſpun clew of Right-opinion, then ere have drawne her downe with the ſtiffe cart-rope of irreſragable Syllogiſmes.
This ſuppoſed certain ſcience of what is good and right, believe me, (O you noble Athenians) is the true ignis fatuus, whoſe ſmal glimmering expires in palpable darkneſſe.
Would you ſaile in the Philoſophers Ocean; know that two Ilands there are of exceeding danger, yet built upon and inhabited, and defended, as part of the main continent of Truth: The firſt is called, I believe as the Church believeth. Happy men, whom ſo eaſie labour hath ſet on the ſhore of wiſdome! And happy that narrow point, that hath devoured ſo large a circumference! The other is called, Whatſoever the Church believes, that will not I believe. And here they think they are ſafe: Theſe, if all the old Hereſies were tranſlated into the Churches Canon; they would leave them, and embrace our relinquiſh' t faith, crying it up as their great Diana.
Both theſe rocks I have alwayes ſtudiouſly avoided: The Decrees of the Church, that is, (if I may ſpeak freely) the prevailing part of the preſent Age, were never my Hercules his pillars, that I thought it unlawfull to look beyond them. I have often read and ſmil'd, and ſmiled and read Mirandula, Gaſſendus, and other famous wits of the latter Age, delivering their choice notions diametrically oppoſite to the decrees of that Age, with this civil complement, Of ſubmiſſion to the Church of Rome, (which it ſeems) diſproves not a reputed Hereſie, ſo ſhe wait upon her in the garb of an handmaid.
Notwithſtanding, though I doe not adore the unanimous conſent of good and pious men; yet I receive it with much reverence, eſpecially in a ſacred matters 'tis neither my fetter, nor my ſcandal.
I profeſſe, I am not of thoſe that think the myſteries of Religion may be rudely unraveled, or its publique Profeſſors beſpatter'd with every Parrots tongue; for mine own particular, the ſtudies of the divineſt Philoſophy have ſuckt me in from my childe-hood; and for ſuch an one, I never eſteem'd it unlawfull, or diſapproved by any ſober man, modeſtly to to diſpute, and diſcuſſe even the higheſt matters, eſpecially in a learned Auditory.
As for theſe notions with which you are preſented, you have them not from me as Sibilline Oracles, ſuch as I either know or fully believe to be true, nor perhaps ever ſhall, till convinced with the ſame light that illuminated the Divine Author: however let them ſit among Probables, till He come that ſhall come.
I deny not but that much may be objected againſt them, and that not eaſily anſwered; but 'twill befit him that undertakes this taske, likewiſe to ſet forth another ſcheme of the infinite Eternity, and delineation of the Ʋniverſe, in which is no contradictory inconſonancy, and neerlier agreeing with the ancienteſt Philoſophy and ſacred Scripture.
I ſpeake plainly what I at this preſent thinke.
Whatſoever the Thrice-great Hermes deliver'd as Oracles from his Propheticall Tripos, or Pythagoras ſpake by authority, or Socrates debated, or Ariſtotle affirmed; yea, whatever divine Plato propheſied, or Plotinus proved; this, and all this, or a far higher and profounder Philoſophy is (I think) contained in the Teutonicks writings. And if there be any friendly medium which can poſſibly reconcile thoſe ancient differences between the Nobler Wiſdom which hath fixt her Palace in Holy writ, and her ſtubborn hand-maid, Naturall Reaſon; this happy marriage of the Spirit and the Soul, this wonderfull concent of diſcords in one harmony, we owe in great meaſure to Teutonicus his skill.
OnelyOnly let not the non or miſunderſtanding even of the moſt rationall Reader (if not a little ſublim'd above the ſphere of common reaſon) be imputed as a fault to this elevated Philoſopher, no more then 'twas to the divine Plotine, whoſe higheſt notions many even of his owne School, after much ſtudy, were not able to reach.
And with this proviſo, I doubt not but the height of what I here promiſe, will be abundantly performed by the Authors Book of the Three Principles, which as I am informed is now at Schoole, and will in few moneths be taught our language.aThis Book was publiſhed Ann. 1648. In the mean time may your noble favour accept my poor pains in taking off the dark ſtyle of the Authors magick language from theſe abſtruſe Notions, attiring them in a garbe as ſutable to the common eye, as their ſtrange proportion would be are.
And you the renowned Youth of both the Schools, the darlings of your times, whoſe learning, modeſty, and piety, miraculouſly unproportioned to your Age, will be an enſample to future generations; it was for your cauſe chiefly, that for one night or two, I bade ſweet ſleep and eaſe adieu (both at other times very acceptable) that under the protection of the ſilent Moon, I might lead you into the inmoſt receſſes of the more ſacred Philoſophy: To you my deareſt fellow-ſtudents (your high merit challenging no leſſe) is this Enchiridion principally dedicated.
Had I found your minds and manners diſingenuous, and uncivil, I had ſufficient proviſion of Entelechia's and Haecceities proportionable to ſuch ruſtick diſpoſitions; but the ſweet unſpotted humane Genius which I have experienced to be in you, made me, as for my choiſeſt Friends, broach this my beſt veſſel of Divine Nectar; which
Enjoy, and Farewell.
The Queſtions then propounded by the ſeverall Diſputants, were theſe.
The Soule brings no Species with it into the Body.
The Worlds Creation may be known by the light of Nature.
The Will diſobeying an erroneous Ʋnderſtanding, ſins.
The laſt Queſtion was by one of the PROCTORS then Reſpondent, thus freely ſtated.
The two Opinions; the firſt affirming the Soules traduction from the Parent; the later, That 'tis created by GOD out of nothing; are either of them probable.
The MODERATOR, having given the Diſputants their Quietus eſt, determined as followeth.
To his moſt entire and highly … ſteem'd Friend: The Authors anſwer, concerning the obſcurity of the Teutonick Phlioſophy.
MYy candid More! ſurceaſe thy ſou… affright:
Shades here are none, but that Majeſtic light
Vaile of high myſteries, Heavens canopy,
Which Gods pure Viſage hides from mortal e…
Thus Sol enthron'd on high, with threatni… flames,
The Heaven-outfacing man's preſumption tam…
But Gods bright Image in his works we view:
And Phoebus face the chryſtall waters ſhew;
And this my watry Mirror ſhall convay
To weaker eyes the great Teutonicks ray.
But to thy diſtant Vortex, richly deckt
With beams of thine own radiant Intellect,
Our Phoebus diſappears, and fame will ſay,
Hee's ſome yet unſeen Star i'th' Milky way.
ERRATA.
Preface. page 2. for honoured, read humour'd. …ſtle pag. 5. read diſapproves. pag. 7. dele this ….
In the Determination, Pag. 12. read, and that it jointly ſignifieth the …. pag. 40. read cals. pag. 67. read fragrant. …oft, hand.
To his worthily honoured and deare friend Maſter Charles Hotham, upon the obſcureneſſe of the Teutonick Philoſophy deſcribed by him.
IKen no Teutonick, good Charles! Then vent
Thy ſelf, and thine own Ingenie depeint.
Write Hothamick, & thine own ſenſe explain;
So ſhall thy learned page with force detaine
My raviſh'd mind. For what-ſo Piety,
Deep-brooding Silence, Alternations ſly
Of changing thoughts: What-ſo inſpired Love,
That with his golden wings doth gently move,
Thy heart-blood fanning to an heavenly flame:
What any, or all theſe together claime,
Will be the due of thoſe adorned Lines
Wherein thine own Soules image cleerly ſhines.
But now through unknown paths and darkſome places
Thou lead'ſt us, with wrinch'd feet, and limping paces:
In mids of thoſe broke-windings, Cold invades
My ſtoniſht mind, and Horrour in the ſhades.
Yet while I look upon thy Candour bright,
To ſudden day ſtraight turns this hideous night
While I thy Morals and well-meaning Will
Conſider, in this night I feare no ill:
Yea more, well weighing thy far-ſearching wit then ſuſpect ſome good lies hid in it.
H. More.