why should I think you (whom I knew in three several Countries of a gentle and pleasant temper, and of an inoffensive carriage) to be now become savage, barbarous, and an enemy of Mankinde? for such some say you are, and that by the Air of a Countrey which indureth no venome: They say that
—Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros.[3]
I am sure you had learned many such civillizing Arts, wherefore your memory has been very leaky, if you have so unlearned them again, as to be turned bruitish. I say, I cannot yet think you unworthy of my care; wherefore I conjure you, to let mee know the nature of your Accusation, and of those troubles which I hear one
Sankey (
I judge the same that I knew a Foot-ball-Player in
Cambridge)
hath engaged you in, that so I may reckon my own happiness in casting up yours.
I have hitherto esteemed you of such integrity, as hath made mee cry out with the Poet,
Musa mihi causas memora quo milite Læso
Insignem probitate virum tot adire labores.[4]
And pray let mee know what you have gotten by all those Frauds and Rapines for which you are esteemed a Beast of Prey, and for which your Adversaries avow the denying you of Law, the knocking you on the head, coming behinde you, or taking you asleep, to be all very fair? Who thought that when you and I studied Metamorphoses and the several species of Madness, that your self should become the Example of a Lycanthropia? and that you should be transformed from a Man into such a Wolf, which not only a whole Parish or Hundred, but a whole Nation and Army make their business to destroy; insomuch as that men should shut up their Shops till they had dispatch't you, as the Londoners did till Glocester was relieved? What sowre humor hath made you so ravenous? that whole Countries will not now feed you, whom I have seen sumptuously treated with a piece of Pain de la Reine, a Bunch of Grapes and a Draught of St. Geniveuse's Well: You once cryed up Mathematicks, and Bread for rich Cheer, and you were frugal in your Food to be prodigal in your expence upon Projects. I reminde you perhaps too freely of these old Transactions: if your Land-Lordship be offended with it, I shall begin to suspect you of Pride; whereof, if you be considerably guilty, I shall the lesse wonder, that you take injurious courses to foment and uphold it: if things be so,
—Quantum mutaris ab illo?[5]
I say, if you are grown so uncivil and savage, so covetous and proud, as some say you are, I think that the venome which in other Countries is disposed of by nature into the Bodies of the viler Animals, and so put out of the way of doing harm, is in
Ireland
let loose and disperst into the Mindes of Men only; and that your Soul being more porous and susceptible of spirituous impregnations then other mens, is corrupted with more then an ordinary share of the Infection; I shall hope the best till I hear from you. For as when a Wheel moves very swiftly, it seems not to move at all: (swift motion and absolute rest being herein alike) so when men are transcendently just, they will appear equally injurious; according to that saying,
Summum jus est summa injuria.
[6]
Those who are very wise, or learned, appear very mad, and irregular; for of such madness was St.
Paul
taxed: Those who scorning and loathing the expensive Sensualities of the world, (though Liberal enough, as to those best Ends, which the Vulgar understand not) may be deemed covetous: Those who out of modesty are not importunate in their visits and solicitations, may
seem uncivil or to scorn all friendship and assistance: (as thinking themselves above the help of others) Those who are very innocent, may by too much neglecting to satisfie mistakes or mis-informations, incurr an evil Fame, how clear soever their consciences be. These may be the reasons of your Sufferings, and till I know further, I shall esteem them such.
Moreover, as great and massy Fabricks may be ruined by their own weight; for
Suis & ipsa Roma viribus ruit.[7]
So you also may be by the too much scrupulous impartiality, and not sufficient respect of persons you have used; or perhaps the brightness of your too much vertue and merit (for there is a certain too-muchness, which made the Prudent Monk say, Praesto Officium taliter qualiter) may have dazled your Spectators blinde, so as to see none of it: Your clearness from Crimes, may make the guilty Vulgus hate you for a Monster, because much unlike themselves; For when the Rabble see or hear of any wonderfull piece of Art, or other Excellency, they say it was by the help of the Divel. And Christ himself was to be killed, because hee did the works that no man did; I say I will have a Charity for you as long as I can. Nevertheless, if some have turned all gray-haired in a night, and, (if as wee have seen) sudden, often, and great Changes have been made in a State, why not in you? And if Angels fell from Heaven, why may not you warp from that most desirable frame and temper wherein you were once known by?
Your very affectionate
Servant and old Friend
M. H.
SIR,
I Have received your letter, which shewes to mee, like a Starr in a dark stormy night; viz. not only a Sign of fairer weather, but a mark of direction in the soul: Wherefore, as I have received it gladly, so I shall also answer it largely, and perhaps with a more ample account of my Condition than you expected or desire.
I hope you will not require from mee much method or politeness; for if oppression make a wise man mad, you may well pardon both confusion and rudeness in mee, whose Brain as it is naturally not of the firmest fabrick, so it hath been accidentally shaken into an incapacity of such performance.
The perclose of your desires (to speak like a Land Measurer) and prayer of your Petition (to talk like the Clerk of the Councel) is to know the causes and manner of my Tribulation, the occasion of the Aspersions cast upon mee, with the root of that envy and seeds of that malice which afflict mee, &c. Unto all which I will return you a particular accompt, having first dispatcht a point or two of your Letter, independent (as I think) from any of your other Enquiries.
You wish I had never wandered out of the study of Medicine, with those other Mathematical, Mechanical, and Natural Exercises, in which I was once a Busie-body; because you think that all I have done since I first began so to ramble, will neither so well commend my name to posterity, nor render me so pleasant a Companion to your self at our next meeting, nor yield so much benefit to the Common-wealth, or (as you paradoxically insinuate) so much pecuniary profit to myself,
