it useth to be, are all very much tinged with this yellow substance; and if at any time they chance to lie unwashed, or not thrown away, they send out so ungrateful a scent, that a man had rather smell to a carnation, rose, violet, or a pomander, than be within the wind of so unwelcome a smell, it being the greatest policy to get the weathergage in this encounter. The same thing I have experienced in vessels at home, where, after it had stood some time, in a common infusion of warm water, I have the same reverence for that as pictures, and do aver it to be true, E longinquo reverentia major.

One thing more is to be noted before I leave this particular, that, although so much of this yellow matter is continually bred, with which the neighbouring ground is sufficiently replenished, as I have found by digging in some places not far distant, yet nothing of that colour is discovered in the contents; a probable argument it either evaporates, to which I am more inclined, in regard I find it much more copious where the steam of the bath meets with any resistance; or else perhaps, which is less probable, turns colour by the fire in evaporation that way; less probable, I say, because, for further satisfaction, I have decocted the ochre more than once, and find it rather gets than loses in its colour.

The greenish colour ariseth from another cause.

The eating out of the iron, I conceive, must proceed from something corrosive, and, till any one can assure me it is something else, I shall judge it to be vitriol; and that it may appear not to be caused by the bare steam, as rust is bred upon pot-hooks and cotterels (as some imagine) besides the difficulty to conceive how the steam should operate under water, as in the case of the gad beforementioned, 1 made a lixivium of the contents of the water, and in it infused iron, but a very small time, and found it to do the same as in the bath itself, considering the time of infusion; and the very knives, and spatules, I put in to stir some residence in the bottom, were, almost as soon as dry, crusted over and defended with a rusty coat.

I have other arguments, I suppose, will contribute something more to the confirmation of this opinion; as, that, with the help of the sand of the bath with water, and galls, I make good writing ink, which, in a short time, comes to be very legible; but the infusion of the contents in common water, or the lixivium thereof, with an addition of an inconsiderable proportion of the decoction of galls, makes it tolerably legible, on the first commixture, only the first, viz. that made with sand, casting an eye of decayed red from a mixture of ochre contained in the same. Neither is it altogether to be slighted, that the water itself hath been heretofore used by the best writing-masters for the making ink, who, observing by their experience, that ink made with Bathwater, and the other usual ingredients, had a better colour, and was more lasting than any other, preferred this water before any other for this use, as I have been informed by some credible persons. Also having not long since occasion to pour warm water on the contents of the bath, in order to the making a lixivium, some of the water happened, by an accident, to fall upon a Bazil-skin I sometimes use, and immediately turned the red into black, more than the breadth of an ordi

nary hand, with as much facility as any curriers liquors; allum I know will do the like, but I find no necessity to assert, that, had it any thing to do here, must make the water much tougher, whiter, and sourer, than I find it to be. To which I may add, that many judicious persons, my patients, and some intelligent and eminent physicians also have assured me, that they have perfectly discerned by the taste a mixture of vitriol, and that I need not doubt but that was one principal ingredient. It is also not very inconsiderable, that the Bath-water alone will coagulate milk, though not after the usual way of making a posset; for, after the milk and water are put together, it must boil may likewise subjoin pretty smartly, else the curd will not rise. I as a further probability, that, on the relenting of the salt extracted into an oil per deliquium, there is a very sharp stiptick and vitrioline taste perceived in the gross deliquium, as also in the clear oil, and the salt itself; not to mention its shooting into glebes, of which I have some small assurances by some trials I have made, not yet sufficiently satisfactory; and therefore I dismiss this part for the present, with the greatest probability, till a farther inquiry shall make me positive.

But, as to nitre, there can be no question made about that I suppose; for besides the quick acrimonious cooling, and the nauseous taste, most apparently discoverable both in the infused contents, the salt and the oil (the latter of which, viz. the nauseous taste, I take more particular notice of, in regard it is most predominant, and assigned by Fallopius to nitre, and the waters impregnated with it, which, he says, sometimes do subvertere stomachum, & facere nauseam, de Therm. Aq- & Met. cap. 9. besides, I say, these probable conjectures) what will set it beyond all contradiction, is that it hath the true characteristick of nitre, and shoots its needles, as long and firm, to the quantity I have, as any I have seen in the shops, of which I have now lately shot above twenty stiria, some near an inch in length, which I keep in a glass ready by me, to give any one satisfaction that desires to see it, besides what I have parted with to some friends abroad.

I the rather mention this, in regard it hath been my good hap to bring this to perfection and autoptical demonstration, which hath been in vain attempted by some industrious persons; not that I am in the least willing to arrogate to myself, or derogate from them, more than what is fitting, but to confirm this truth, that there are some mollia tempora fandi; some opportunities, when nature will give willing audience, without much ceremony or ado, confessing more by fair persuasions, than racks and torments, and greater importunity. And that we ought to be very cautious how to affirm a thing not to be, upon the failure of a single, or some repeated experiments.

In fine, lest I should too much exceed the bounds of a letter, what concerns the cause of the heat of the waters, I say little of here, only tell you that when I shall come to discourse of that subject, of which I intend, God willing, a large disquisition in another language, I believe I shall find myself obliged not so much to depend on a subter

Many more experiments I have made upon the sand, scum, and mud of the bath, with some observations drawn from the natura loci, or ground hereabouts; but, I fear, I have been too tedious already, and therefore, without further ceremony, shall release you out of this purgatory, with the subscription of,

Sir, your most faithful and much obliged servant

THO. GUIDOTT.

For Lord Falkland's History of Edward II. See Vol. I. p. 90.

CONSIDERATIONS

TOUCHING A WAR WITH SPAIN,

Written by

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, FRANCIS, LORD VERULAM,

VISCOUNT OF ST. ALBANS.

Imprinted 1629. Quarto, containing forty eight pages.

YOUR

OUR Majesty hath an imperial name: It was a Charles that brought the empire first into France; a Charles that brought it first into Spain: Why should not Great-Britain have its turn? But to lay aside all that might seem to have a shew of fumes and fancies, and to speak solids: A war with Spain, if the King shall enter into it, is a mighty work; it requireth strong materials and active motions; he, that saith not so, is zealous, but not according to knowledge: But, nevertheless, Spain is no such giant; and he that thinketh Spain to be some great over-match for this estate, assisted as it is and may be, is no good mint-man, but takes greatness of kingdoms, according to their bulk and currency, and not after their intrinsick value.

Although therefore I had wholly sequestered my thoughts from civil affairs, yet, because it is a new case, and concerneth my country infinitely, I obtained of myself to set down, out of long continued experience in business of state, and much conversation in books of policy and history, what I thought pertinent to this business, and, in all humbleness, to present it to your Majesty; hoping, that at least you will discern the strength of my affection, through the weakness of my abilities: For the Spaniards have a good proverb, Desnariosi empre con la calentura. There is no heat of affection, but is joined with some idleness of brain.

To war are required a just quarrel, sufficient forces and provisions, and a prudent choice of the designs. So then I will, First, justify the quarrel. Secondly, balance the forces. And, Lastly, propound variety of designs for choice: For that were not fit for a writing of this nature, neither is it a subject within the level of my judgment, I being in effect, a stranger to the present occurrents.

Wars, I speak not of ambitious predatory wars, are suits of appeals to the tribunal of God's justice, when there are no superiors on earth to determine the cause, and they are as civil pleas, either plaints or defences.

There are therefore three just grounds of war with Spain; one upon plaint, two upon defence; Solomon saith, A cord of three is not easily broken, but especially when every one of the lines will hold by itself: They are these: The recovery of the Palatinate, and a just fear of the subversion of our church and religion: For, in the handling of these two last grounds of war, I shall make it plain, that wars preventive, upon just fears, are true defensives, as well as upon actual invasions. And again, that wars defensive for religion, I speak not of rebellions, are most just, though offensive wars for religion are seldom to be approved or never, except they have some mixture of civil titles. But all that I shall say, in this whole argument, will be but like bottoms of thread close wound up, which, with a good needle, perhaps may be flourished into large works.

For the asserting of the justice of the quarrel, for the recovery of the Palatinate, I shall not go so high as to discuss the right of the war of Bohemia, which, if it be freed from doubt on our part, then there is no colour nor shadow why the Palatinate should be retained, the, ravishing whereof was a mere excursion of the first wrong, and a superinjustice. But I do not take myself to be so perfect in the customs, records, transactions, and privileges of that kingdom of Bohemia, as to be fit to handle that part; and I will not offer at that I cannot master. Yet this I will say in passage positively and resolutely, That it is impossible and repugnant in itself, that an elective monarchy should be so free and absolute as an hereditary, no more than it is possible for a father to have so full power and interest in an adoptive son, as in a natural, Quia naturalis obligatio fortior civili.' And again, that received maxim is almost unshaken and infallible, Nil magis naturæ consentaneum est quam ut eisdem modis res dissolvantur quibus constituuntur: So that, if part of the people or estate be somewhat in the election, you cannot make them nulloes or cyphers in the prorivation or translation; and, if it be said, that this is a dangerous opinion for the Pope, Emperor, and all elective kings; it is true, it is a dangerous opinion, and ought to be a dangerous opinion to such personal popes, emperors, or elective kings, as shall transcend their limits, and become tyrannical.

But it is a safe and sound opinion for their sees, empires, and kingdoms, and for themselves also, if they be wise: Plenitudo potestatis est plenitudo tempestatis;' but the chief cause why I do not search into this point, is, because I need it not. And, in handling the right of a war, I am not willing to intermix matters doubtful, with that which is

out of doubt: For as, in capital causes, wherein but one man's life is in question, in favorem vitæ, the evidence ought to be clear, so much more in the judgment of a war, which is capital to thousands. I suppose therefore the worst, that the offensive war upon Bohemia hath been unjust, and then make the case, which is no sooner made than resolved; if it be made, not enwrapped, but plainly and perspicuously, it is this in these: An offensive war is made, which is unjust to the aggressor; the prosecution and race of the war carrieth the defendant to assail and invade the ancient and indubitate patrimony of the first aggressor, which is now turned defendant. Shall he sit down, and not put himself in defence, or, if he be disposed, shall he not make a war for the recovery? No man is so poor of judgment, as will affirm it. The castle of Cadmus was taken, and the city of Thebes itself invested by Plebidas, the Lacedemonian, insidiously and in violation of league: The process of this action drew on a resurprise of the castle by the The beans, a recovery of the town, and a current of the war, even unto the walls of Sparta: I demand, Was the defence of the city of Sparta, and the expulsion of the Thebeans, out of the ancient Laconian territories, unjust? The starving of that part of the duchy of Milan, which lieth upon the river of Adda, by the Venetians, upon contract with the French, was an ambitious and unjust purchase. This wheel, set on going, did pour a war upon the Venetians, with such a tempest, as Padua and Trivigi were taken from them, and all their dominions upon the continent of Italy abandoned, and they confined within the salt waters: Will any man say, that the memorable recovery and defence of Padua, when the gentlemen of Venice, unused to the wars, out of the love of their country, became brave and martial the first day; and so likewise the redemption of Trivigi, and the rest of their dominions, was matter of scruple, whether just or no, because it had force from a quarrel ill begun. The wars of the Duke of Urbine, nephew to Pope Julius the Second, when he made himself head of the Spanish mutineers, was as unjust as unjust might be, a support of desperate rebels, and invasion of St. Peter's patrimony, and what you will. The race of this war fell upon the loss of Urbine itself, which was the Duke's undoubted right, yet in this case not penitentiary, though he had enjoined him never so strait penance to expiate his first offence, and would have counselled him to have given over the pursuit of his right for Urbine; which after he obtained prosperously, and hath-transmitted to his family, yet until this day.

Nothing more unjust than the invasion of the Spanish Armada in eighty-eight upon our seas, for our land was holy land to them, they might not touch it; shall I say therefore, that the defence of Lisbon or Cales afterwards was unjust? There be thousands of examples, Utor in re non dubia exemplis non necessariis.' The reasons are plain, wars are vindict, revenges reparations; but revenges are not infinite, but according to the measure of the first wrong or damage. And therefore, when a voluntary offensive war, by the design or fortune of the war, is turned into a necessary defensive, the scene of the tragedy is changed, and it is a new act to begin: For, though the particular actions of wars are complicate in fact, yet they are separate and