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nours.

And a little after, My conceit of his Person was never increased toward him, by his place or ho

But I have and do reverence him for the greatness that was only proper to himself, in that he seem'd to me ever by his work, one of the greatest men, and most worthy of admiration, that had been in many ages. In his Adversity I cver prayed, that God would give him Arength, for greatness he could not want. Neither could I condole in a word or syllable for him ; as knowing no Accident could do harm to Vertue,

but rather help to make it manifeft. A. Cowley, in his Poem to the Royal Society, after soine reflections upon the State of Philofo

phy aforetime, goes on, SO Ome fem exalted Spirits this latter

Age has somon, That labour'd to assert the Liberty From Guardians, who were now Usúrpers growon Of this Old Minor still, Captiv'd Philosophy ;

But 'twas Rebellion callà to fight

For such a long oppreffed Right. BACON at last, a mighty Man, arose,

Whom a wise King and Nature chose

Lord Chancellor of both their Laws,
And boldly undertook the injsir'd Pupils cause.

III
Authority, which did a Body boast,
Though 'twas but Air condens’d, and stalk'd about,
Like Some old Giants more Gigantic Ghost ;

To terrifie the Learned Rout
With the plain Magick of true Reasons Light,
He chac'd out of our fight,

Nor

By the vain Madovos of the Dead: (filed; ToGraves from whence it rose the conquer'd Phantome

He broke that Monstrous God which stood
In midst of th’Orchard, and the whole did claim,

Which with a useless Sith of Wood,
And something else not worth a name,
( Both vast før shem, yet neither fit
Or to Defend, or to Beget ;

Ridiculous and senceless Terrors !) made
Children and superstitious Men afraid.

The Orchard's open now, and free; BACON has broke that Scare-crow Deity;

Come, enter, all that will,
Behold the riponed Fruit, come gather now your fil.

Tet still, methinks, we fain would be
Catching at the Forbidden Tree,

We would be like the Deitie,
When Truth and Falshood, Good and Evil, we
Without the Sences aid within our selves would see;

For 'tis God only who can find
All Nature in his Mind.

IV.
From Words, which are but Pictures of the Tbought,
(Though we our Thoughts from them perverfly dremo)
To Things, the Minds right Object, be it brought,
Like foolish Birds to painted Grapes we flew;
He fought and gather'd for our use the Irue ;
And when on heaps the chosen Bunches lay,
He prest them wisely the Mechanic way,
Till all their juyce did in one Vellel joyn,
Ferment into a Nourishment Divine,

The thirsty Souls refreshing Wine. Who

Who to the life an exa&i Piece would make,
Must not from others Work a Copy take;

No, not from Rubens or Vandike;
Much less content himself to make it like
Ib' Idæas and the Images vobich ly
In his own Fancy, or bis Memory.

No, he before his fight must place
The Natural and Living Face;

The real Object must command
Each Judgment of his Eye, and Motion of his Hand.

A.

From these long Errors of the way,
In which our wandring Predecesors went,
And like th' old Hebrews many years did stray

In Defarts but of small extent,
BACON, like Mofes, led us forth at last,

The barren Wilderness be past,
Did on the very Border stand

Of the blest promis'd Land,
And

from the Mountains Top of his Exalted Wit,

Saw it himself, and Mepo'd as it.
But Life did never to one Man allow
Time to Discover Worlds, and Conquer too ;
Nor can so sort a Line sufficient be
To fathoin the vast depths of Natures Sea:

The work be did we ought t'admire,
And were unjust if we should

more require
From his few years, divided’tmixt thExcess
Of low Affliction, and high Happiness:
For who on things remote can fix his fight,
That's always in a Triumph, or a Fight?

A. Cowley
ESSAYS.

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HAT is Truth said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be, that delight in giddiness, and count it a Bondage to fix a Belief; affecting free-will

in thinking, as well as in acting. And though the Sects of Philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain dilcourfing Wits, which are of the same Veins, though there be not so much Blood in them, as was in those of the Antients. But it is not only the difficulty and labour, which men take in finding out of Truth; nor again, that when it is found, it imposeth upon mens thoughts, that doth bring Lies in favour; but a natural, though corrupt Love, of the Lie it felf. One of the later Schools of the Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a stand, to think what should bc in it, that Men should love Lies; where neither they make for pleasure, as with Poets, nor

B

for S.

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