The workes of that famous chirurgion Ambrose Parey translated out of Latine and compared with the French. by Th: Johnson

THE SECOND BOOKE OF LIVING CREATVRES, AND OF THE EXCELLENCY Of Man. (Book 2)

BEfore I come to speake of the Anatomie of mans body; * 1.1 I have thought fit to say a little of the nature of brute Beasts. There is betweene beasts a great deale of difference by na∣ture; for of these, some are hardy and bold, others fearefull; some wilde and savage, others tame; some walking in heards, others wandring alone; some covered and defended with shels and scales, as the Crocodile, the Tortois and many kinds of fish, others have stings and prickles.

The Horse hath his hard and strong hoofes, his crest (as being a generous beast) beset with a thicke and harsh mane, The defence of the magnanimous Lion, are his teeth, his crooked pawes and taile; Bulls are formidable by their hornes; the Beare by his tuskes standing out, as it were naturall hunting speares. The Hare being a ti∣merous creature, is naked and unarmed, but in recompence thereof nature hath made her nimble and swift of foot. For what the more noble and couragious beasts have in armes, is supplied in the fearefull by nimblenesse and celerity. Infinite are the other endowments of brute beasts, and such as can hardly be imagined, or described. For if wee diligently search into their nature, wee shall observe the impressions and * 1.2 shadowes of many vertues, as of magnanimitie, prudence, fortitude, clemency, and docillitie: for they entirely love one another, follow those things that are good, shunne those that are hurtfull, and gather and lay up in store those things that are ne∣cessary for life and food. Lastly, they give undoubted presages of the weather, and Aire. They have taught men many things, and are of a most exquisite and quicke sence; of rare▪ Art in vocall musicke, prdent and carefull for their young, and faithfull lovers of their native soile. They are religiously observant of the rights of friendship and chastitie. They have their weapons whereby they are prepared, both to invade, and to defend themselves being invaded; they submit themselves to the discipline of man, practise and imitate his speech, and mutually prattle and chant one to another. They have a kind of weale-puklicke amongst themselves, and

know how to preserve their present welfare, and to depell the contrary, being in this their owne Counsellors, and not tutored by man. Yea man is beholden to them for the knowledge of many wholesome things. The consideration of which bred so great a doubt amongst the ancient Philosophers, that it was a question amongst them, whether beasts had use of reason, or no? Therefore also the wise Salomon sends us for examples of parsimonie and diligence unto the Ant or Pismire; and Esaias in expro∣bration of the people of Israel for their ingratitude and rebellion against God, sends them to the Oxe and Asse; for they doe not onely know, but reverence their Maisters.

But from whence is the knowledge of these medicines, wherewith the Art of * 1.3 Physicke is so richly adorned, but from brute beasts, as Pliny affirmeth. The infalli∣ble vertue of the herbe Dictamnus, in drawing darts out of the flesh, was taught usby the Hart, who wounded with the Huntsmans darts or arrowes, by meanes hereof drawes out the weapons which remaines sticking in her. Which is likewise practi∣sed by the Goates of Candie, as Aristotle writeth. The wonderfull effect which Celan∣dine hath upon the sight, was learnt by the practise of Swallowes, who have bin obser∣ved with it to have besmeared, and so strengthened the eyes of their young. Serpents rubbe their eyelids with fennell, and are thought by that meanes to quicken and re∣store the decaying sight of their eyes. The Tortois doth defend & strengthen her selfe against the biting of Vipers, by eating of savorie. Beares by eating of Pismires, ex∣pell that poison that they have contracted by their use of Mandrakes. And for cor∣rection of that drowzinesse and sloth which growes upon them by their long sleepe in their dens, they eate the herbe Aron (i) Cuckopint. But the Art they use in the * 1.4 entising and catching of Pismires is very pretty; They goe softly to the holes or hilles of the Pismires, and there lay themselves all their length upon the ground, as if they were dead, hanging out their tongue wet with their foame, which they draw not a∣gaine into their mouth, before they feele them full of Pismires, which are intised by the sweetnesse of the foame: And having taken this as a purging medicine, they expell by the guts, those ill humors wherewith they were offended. Wee see that Dogges give themselves a vomit, by eating of a kinde of grasse, which is from thence called Dogge-grasse. Swine, when they finde themselves sicke, will hunt after smalt or river lobsters. Stockdoves, Blackbirds, and Partridges, purge themselves by bay leaves. Pigeons, Turtels, and all sort of Pullen, disburden themselves of grosse hu∣mors, by taking of Pellitory of the wall. The bird Ibis (being not much unlike the Storke) taught us the use of Clisters. For when he finds himselfe oppressed with a * 1.5 burden of hurtfull humors, he fills his bill with saltwater, and so purgeth himselfe by that part, by which the belly is best discharged. The invention of the way of remo∣ving the Cataract of the eye, wee must yeeld unto the Goate, who by striking by * 1.6 chance against the thorny bushes, pulls off the Cataract which hinders the sight, and covers the ball of the eye, and so recovers his sight. The benefit of Phlebotomie, we * 1.7 owe unto the Hippotamus or River-horse, being a kinde of Horse, and the inhabi∣tant of the river Nilus; who being a great devourer, when hee finds himselfe sur∣charged with a great deale of bloud, doth by rubbing his thigh against the sharpe sands on the bankeside, open a veine, whereby the superfluous bloud is discharged, which he stoppeth likewise when it is fit, by rowling himselfe in the thicke mudde. The Tortois having chanced to eate any of the flesh of a Serpent, doth make origa∣num and marjerom her Antidote. The ancients found helpe from brute beasts, even against the dreadfull and none-sparing force of lightning; for they were of opinion * 1.8 that the wings of an Eagle were never strucke with lightning, and therefore they put about their heads little wreathes of these feathers. They were perswaded the same thing of the Seale, or Sea-calfe, and therefore were wont to encompasse their bodies with his skinne, as a most certaine safegard against lightning. It were a thing too long, and laborious, to speake of all those other muniments of life and health (observed here and there by Aristotle and Plinie) which we have learnt of brute beasts. I will there∣fore end this Chapter, after that I have first added this; That we are beholding to beasts not onely for the skill of curing diseases, and of preservation of health, but for our foode, our raiment, and the ornament and beautifying the bodies.

Of the Faculty of brute Beasts in Presaging.

THe first knowledge and skill of Prognostication, and observation of weather by the Aire, was first delivered unto us from beasts of the land and water, and from fowle. For we see in daily observation, that it is a signe of change of weather, when * 1.9 Lambes and Rammes doe butt at one another with their hornes, and playing wan∣tonly doe kicke, and keepe up their heeles. The same is thought to bee presaged when the Oxe lickes himselfe against the haire, and on the sodaine fills the Aire with his lowing, and smells to the ground, and when he feedes more greedily than he used to doe. But if the Pismires in great multitudes fetch their prey so hastily, that they * 1.10 runne and tumble one upon another in their narrow pathes, it is thought a signe of raine; As is also the busie working of Moales, and the Cats rubbing and stroaking of her head and necke, and above her eares, with the bottome of her feete. Also when Fishes play and leape a little above the water, it is taken for a signe of raine. But if the Dolphins doe the same in the sea, and in great companies, it is thought to pre∣sage * 1.11 a sodaine storme and tempest. Whereby the Marriners forewarned, use all care possible for the safetie of themselves and their shippes, and if they can, cast Anchor. And it is sufficiently knowne what the louder croaking of Frogges than ordinary portends.

But the facultie of birds in this kinde of presaging is wonderfull. If Cranes flie through the aire without noise, it is a signe of faire weather, and of the contrary, if they make a great noise and flie stragglingly. As also if Sea-fowle flie farre from the sea, and light on the land. The crie or scritching of Owles portends a change of the present weather, whether foule or faire. Plutarch saith, that the loude cawing of the Crow betokens windes and showres, as also when he flappes his side with his wings. Geese, and Duckes, when they dive much, and order, and prune, and picke their feathers with their beakes, and crie to one another, foretell raine; and in like manner Swallowes when they flie so low about the water, that they wet themselves, and their winges. And the Wren, when he is observed to sing more sweetly than usuall, and to hop up and downe. And the Cocke when he chants, or rather crowes presently after the setting of the Sunne. And Gnats, and Fleas, when they bite more than ordinary. If the Herne soare aloft into the aire, it betokeneth faire weather, if on the contrary he flie close by the water, raine. If Pidgeons come late home to the Dove-house, it is a signe of raine. If Bats flie in the evening, they foreshew wet weather. And lastly, the Crocodile layes his egges in that place, which must be the * 1.12 bounds of the overflowing of the river Nilus; And therefore he that first meetes with these egges, tels the rest of the countrie people, and shewes them how high the floud will rise, and what inundation it will make upon their grounds. A thing most worthy of admiration, that in this monster, there should be that strong facultie of presaging.

Of the Industry of Fishes.

MAny sea-Fishes, when they feele a tempest comming, doe gravell or balast * 1.13 themselves, to the end they may not be tossed up and downe at the pleasure of the waves. Others when the fury of the sea is at the hight, hide themselves in the holes of rockes. But in that they swim against the streame, they doe it, for this cause and reason, that the force of the streame, and the floud may not take from them, * 1.14 and strike off their scales, and that their gills may not fill with water which would hinder their swimming, and intercept their respiration. As by the same advise Cranes flie against the winde, whereas if they should flie downe the winde, their feathers would be displaced and broken, and they would not be able to flie.

Of the industry of Birds in the building of their neasts.

THe industrie of Birds in the building of their neasts, is such, that it doth farre * 1.15 exceede the art and skill of all Masons, and Architects. From whence it is be∣come a Proverbe, That men know, and can doe all things but make Birds neasts. They are built within with wooll, and feathers, and such kinde of soft things, which are as a kinde of a pallet for the young ones. Swallowes build their neasts in a round forme, * 1.16 that they may be the more firme, and lesse subject to be hurt by any thing that shall strike against them, and likewise more capacious. They chuse their matter out of dirt and chaffe (interlacing it with many strawes) as it were their plaster, or lime. Those that build in trees, doe make choise of the soundest boughes, as if they meant to have them as a sure foundation for the building which they should erect thereon. The Cocke and the Henne doe by turnes sit over their egges, and likewise fetch * 1.17 their meate, interchanging each others labour, neither doe they ever forsake their young, before they are able to get their owne living. I had at my house a great num∣ber of Sparrowes neasts in earthen pots, And when the young ones begun to waxe pretty bigge, and to be covered with feathers, I made the whole neast be taken down, and set upon the ground, that I and my friends might delight our selves in beholding the care of the old ones in the feeding of their young; for they feede them every one in order, skipping none, neither will they (to the wrong of the rest) give one two parts, although he gape, and be importunate for it.; dividing most justly to every one his owne share, according to the exact rule of distribution. And often times for experiment, I would make triall with a strange Sparrow of the same age, laid neere, or put among the rest of the young ones, whether the old ones would feede the stran∣ger, as if it were legitimate. But this as a stranger and a bastard they would suffer to starve, skipping it when it gaped after the meate. And in like manner Lambes and young Kiddes doe in the fields, in the midst of a great flocke, runne every one to his owne damme, who being most certainely able to distinguish betweene the legitimate and a bastard, will not suffer her selfe to be suckt but by her owne young.

Of the industry of Spiders.

THe Spider spinnes her web with wonderfull artifice, hanging and fastening it to * 1.18 every tacke or stay that is nigh, drawing of his thread, and running upwards, and downewards, and every way. And although the diligence of the chamber maid beates downe, and marres this pendulous and new begunne worke, yet her seate and her hold, the Spider keepes still, neither is she, or will she desist from the worke shee hath begunne, but in a very short time, weaves a great deale more unto the ruines of her former worke, than can bee unweaved againe with much labour. So that from hence all cloth and linnen Weavers, all imbroiderers, and workers with the needle, (you will easily thinke) have learnt their Arts, if either you observe the exactnesse of the weaving, the finenesse of the thred, or the continuation and indissoluble knitting together of the whole web; for being abrupt and troubled with no ends of threds at all, it resembles a thinne membrane, annointed with a kinde of glew, wherewith * 1.19 when the prey is entangled, the Spider runnes presently in, and as it were drawesher nets, and infolds, and takes the captive after the manner of huntsmen. If this were not daily seene with our eyes, it would be thought fabulous.

Of Bees.

I cannot passe in silence the great industry of Bees. For having established a kinde of Weale-publique, they make election of a King, who is such a one, as in proceri∣•…•… * 1.20 of body, and excellencie of feature, exceedeth all the rest. He is remakeable by his short wings, his straight legges, his grave gate, and in stead of a Diadem or regall Crowne, either he hath no sting, or else doth not use it, which is the Artillery of the rest. He never goeth unattended out of the hive, but alwaies invironed with a princely

retinue, the rest of his traine following after, neither goes he at any time abroad, but upon urgent affaires which concernes the whole state. His progresse is forewar∣ned by the voice and sound of trumpets, and as it were with singing, and they all draw nigh. Every one gets as neere to his person as he can, and when he is weary with flying, they all beare him up with thir owne bodies.

On what place soever he alighteth, there they forthwith pitch their tents. If hee * 1.21 chance to die, they goe not abroad to feede, but stand all mourning round about the corps; then carrie him out of the hive, and (as it were) follow his hearse and bury * 1.22 him; and lastly, having with solemnity performed all the funerall rites and obsequies, they chuse themselves another King, for without a King they cannot live. He then taketh care of all things, having his eye every where, whilest that the rest intend the performance of the worke. And supervising all, giveth them incouragement, and chastiseth negligence. For their time of going forth for foode, they chuse a cleare and faire day; for they have a naturall facultie of presaging of the weather. They are * 1.23 such observers of iustice and equitie, that never, either with their sting, or by any other way, doe they molest any creature, neither doe they exercise and pre∣pare their speares against any, but for the safegard of themselves and their hives.

Of the care of Bees.

THey manage and order their affaires in this manner, in the day time they ap∣point before their gates a station of watchmen, and guarders. In the night, they * 1.24 rest from their labours, so long, till that one (who is appointed to this charge) by one or two hummes, as by a sound of a Trumpet, rowseth all the rest. Then * 1.25 come they together to observe what is the state of the weather, which if they foresee will bee faire, then abroad goe they into the fields, and pastures. Some therefore bring into the hive little fascicles of flowers on their thighes, others wa∣ter in their mouth, and others a dewey moisture gathered on their bodies. These are met by others, who receive their burdens, which they dispose in their due and proper places. Those that are sent out into the fields for foode, are the youngest and the smallest. And therefore if the winde chance to rise any thing high, they expect untill it cease, and that the force and violence thereof bee over. But if it continue violent, then doe they ballast themselves with a little stone flying close by the ground, to prevent their being driven too and fro by the force of the winde. They are exceeding diligent in all their businesse, and doe punish the sloth of the lazie oftentimes with death. Some of them are the buil∣ders, others polish the building, and the rest bring in their materials.

The building in their arched hives is with wonderfull artifice, being made with two doores, one to come in, and the other to goe out at. They have all things alike, least that the inequalitie, either of their food or labour, should give occasion of dissention. Their care is, that their houses may shew both state and handsomenesse, Idle droanes, borne for nothing but to eate, and consume the fruits of their labours, * 1.26 they chase from their hives. Those that chance to lose their stings, are utterly disa∣bled, and in a short time their guts come out that way, and they die. They bring to their owners wonderfull increase of wax and honey.

Aristomachus the Philosopher doth boast, that for fiftie eight yeares together, hee * 1.27 had with great care beene a nourisher of Bees, onely that he might the better attaine to the knowledge of their state and condition.

Of Pismires, and Ants.

NEither truly is the industry, diligence, and experience of the Pismire lesse worthy of admiration, than that of the Bees. Insomuch as that Salomon bids the sluggard to take an example of diligence from the Pismire. Truly if experience did not witnesse it, it would seeme incredible, that so small a creature should be able to store up such aboundance of corne, to dispose and manage her affaires in that good

order that we see she doth. Plinie saith, that they have among them the forme of a well * 1.28 governed and well ordered common weale. For how pretty a sight it is to see them, when they seize upon a graine which they have a minde to carrie away, how they set to it, and lift it with head and shoulders. And how least the corne which they carrie * 1.29 to their store-house, should put forth and grow, they bite it at one end. If it be so bigge that they cannot carry it into their little hole, they divide it in the middle. If it be dampish, they lay it out to drie in the Sunne and open aire. When the Moone is at the full, they follow their worke in the night, when shee doth not shine, they take their rest, whereby they shew themselves to have some knowledge of heavenly things. Plinie affirmeth that they have their set Faires and Markets, whither they come in great companies, and where they use to establish leagues of amitie and friendship one with another. And when one markes them well, would hee not thinke that they were in conference one with another, and that they did discourse among themselves of their businesse? Doe wee not see that the often trampling of their little feete doth weare a path even upon hard flint stones?

From whence wee may note, what in all kinde of things is the effect of assidui∣tie. * 1.30 They say also that they performe the rites of buriall one unto another, after the manner of men. What words shall I use (saith Plutarch) to expresse sufficiently the diligence and industry of the Pismires. There is not among all the great things in nature, a sight of greater wonder than these. For in the Pismires are seene the markes of all vertue. Their great meetings argue that they maintaine a kinde of friendship.

Their alacritie in the undergoing of their laboures, seemes to shew their forti∣tude * 1.31 and magnanimity; and lastly, they are eminent examples of temperance, pro∣vidence, and justice. Their mutuall charitie appeareth in this, that if one of them that is not loaden meets another (in one of their narrow paths) that is, hee will give him the way, that hee may the better goe on in his intended journey. They say that the first entrance into their hole, is not straight, but full of many diverticles and crooked paths, which all end, which will bring you to three lit∣tle cells; in one of which they have their conventicles, in the other they lay up their provisions, and in the third they bury the carkasses of their dead. This doth Plutarch speake concerning Pismires.

Of Silke-Wormes.

WIth the industry of these creatures, I shall not unfitly joyne that of the Silkewormes, of whose paines and care, both in the making of their neasts, and the spinning of their threed and bottomes (wherewith Kings are so magni∣ficently adorned) Philosophers have written very strange things.

And who can chuse but wonder at those great endowments of skill and know∣ledge, and that exceeding industry, (the mother of so much wealth) in the little * 1.32 body of so small a creature? The providence therefore of God, doth not onely appeare in this, that hee hath adorned each creature with a peculiar and proper endowment, but in this especially, that on the least creatures of all, hee hath be∣stowed the greater portion of skill, industry, and ingenuity to supply their defect of bodily strength.

Of the love of Beasts one towards another and to their young.

PLutarch writeth; That all kinde of creatures beare a singular love, and have a kinde of care of those thatt are generated of them, and the industry of the * 1.33 Partridges, this way is much commended; for during the time that their young ones are weake and unable to flie, they teach them to lie upon their backes, and to hide themselves among the cloddes on the ground, that so being almost of the same colour, they may not be discerned by the Faulkoner. But if notwithstanding, they see

any body, comming, and that hee is neere them, they doe with a hundred dodges and stoopings of themselves, as if they were wearie with flying, entise him away from their young to follow after them, and when they have their purpose, they then, as if they had recovered some fresh strength, fly quite away; who can but wonder at this both affection and subtilty?

Neither are those things lesse wonderfull that are reported of Hares, for when * 1.34 they would goe to their seate, they sever their young, and commit them to the trust of divers places, it may be two acres asunder one from another, least peradventure, a Huntsman, a dogge, or any man should chance to come that way, and they might be in danger to be lost at once. And then after they have traced up and downe, hi∣ther and thither, and every way that the dogges may not trace them, nor the Hunts∣man pricke them, they take a leape or two, and leape into their formes.

Nor inferior to this is the craft of the Hedghogge, for when the Foxe pursueth him, and is now at his heeles, hee rowles himselfe up in his prickles like a chesnut in the outward shell, so that every part being rounded and encompassed with these sharpe and dangerous prickes, hee cannot be hurt. And so saves himselfe by this tricke; for his young he provides in this manner.

In the time of Vintage he goes to the vines, and there with his feete hee strikes off the boughs and the grapes, and then rowling his body makes them sticke upon his * 1.35 prickles, and so doth as it were take his burthen upon his backe, and then returnes to his hole; you would thinke that the grapes did move of themselves; the prey hee de∣vides betweene himselfe and his young.

In Florida part of the West Indies they have a beast, which for the variety and de∣formitie of it I cannot passe over in silence; The natives call it Succarath, the Cani∣bals, Su. It keepes for the most part about the rivers, and the sea-shore, and lives by

[illustration]

prey. When hee perceiveth that hee is pursued by the Huntsman, hee gets his young * 1.36 ones upon his backe, and with his taile, which is very long and broad, he covereth them, and so flying, provideth both for his owne, and their safetie; neither can he be taken by any other way but by pits, which those Savage men use to digge in the pla∣ces neere which he is to runne, into which at unawares hee tumbles headlong. This Picture of him here, I drew out of Thevets Cosmographie.

Of the affection of Birds, and of Dogges, towards their Masters.

THe young Storke provides for the old which is disabled by age, and if any one * 1.37 of their equalls come to any mischance, that hee is not able to flie, they will give him their assistance, and beare him on their backes and wings. And there∣fore

this affection and piety towards the old ones, and as it were brotherly love towards their equalls, is commended in the Storke.

The Henne in any kinde of danger gathers her chickins under her wings, and as it were with that guard, defends them as well as shee can. For their sake shee exposeth her selfe to the crueltie of the fiercest beasts, and will flie in the eyes of a dogge, a Wolfe or a Beare, that by chance offers to meddle with her chickins.

But who is there that doth not admire the fidelitie and love of dogges towards their Masters, whereby they recompence them for their keeping? A dogge will * 1.38 never forsake his Master, no, if he be never so hardly used. For there is no man can finde a sticke hard enough to drive that dogge cleane away from him which hath once taken a love to him. There is no kinde of creature that doth more certaine∣ly and readily remember his master, hee will know the voice of all the house∣hold, and of those which frequent the house. There cannot bee a trustier keeper (as Cicero himselfe saith) than a Dogge is; I speake not of their faculty of smel∣ling, whereby they follow their Masters by the foote, and finde them, neither doe I speake of those infinite examples of the fidelity of Dogges, which were too long to rehearse.

Pidgeons, as well the Cocke as the Henne, although they are all very venereous, * 1.39 yet they know no adultery, yea and the Henne will beare with the frowardnesse of the Cocke, neither will she ever leave him, but reconciling him unto her by her officious diligence, bring him to his wonted dalliance and kisses, neither is the love of either of them lesse towards their young.

There is the like mutuallbond of love betweene Turtles, for if one of them die, the surviver never solicites Hymen more, neither will he ever chuse other seate than * 1.40 a dry withered bough.

Of the strength, piety, docilitie, clemency, chastity, and gratitude of Elephants.

AMong the beasts of the field there is none more vaste, more strong, or more to bee feared, than the Elephant. His strength is sufficiently showne by those towered Castles of armed men, which hee carries, and fiercely rusheth with into the battell. The Romane souldiers being otherwise of undaunted spi∣rit, yet in that battell which they fought against Antiochus being terrified with the vastnesse and immanity of these bodies which they had never before seene, presently turned their backes and fled, which notwithstanding, it is a wonderfull thing what stories naturall Philosophers tell of the vertues of the Elephant.

Plinie writeth, that an Elephant commeth very neere to the understanding that * 1.41 men have, and that hee hath a rude kinde of knowledge of language; that his faci∣litie and obsequiousnesse is wonderfull, that his memory in the performance of his wonted duties, is no lesse wonderfull. And for Religion (Plutarch saith) that * 1.42 they pray unto the gods, and sprinckle and purge themselves with salt water, and that with great reverence, they worship the Sunne at his rising, lifting their trunkes up towards heaven, for want of hands. Plinie addeth, that they doe with the like reve∣rence worship the Moone and the Starres. For it is related in the Histories of the Arabians, that at a new Moone the Elephants goe by troupes downe unto the rivers, and there wash themselves with water, and being thus purged, kneele downe and worship the Moone, and then returne to the woodes, the eldest going first, and the other following after according to their age.

Plutarch reporteth, that it happened once, that among the Elephants which were taught at Rome against the Panegyricke shewes, there was one that was something dull, and not so docile as the rest, which made him be despised by his fellowes, and often beaten by his master. But that this Elephant, that he might supply by diligence what he wanted in wit, was oftentimes observed in the night, by the light of the Moone, to be practising and conning what he had learnt of his Maister in the day * 1.43 time. For they were wont to bee taught to make letters, and also to present

garlands to the spectators; and other such like trickes. But they can never bee brought to goe aboord a shippe, to bee carried over the sea into any strange land, unlesse their Master give them his word to assure them that they shall

[illustration]

returne againe to their owne native soile. They never hurt any one that doth not first provoke them. They never gender but in private out of sight, an argument of their modestie.

Of the Lamprey.

LEast that the heat of affection may seeme to lie quenched under the waters, let us by one example, (it were an infinite thing to speake of all) see in what kinde of mutuall love the creatures of the water come short of those of the land. The Lamprey of all the creatures of this kinde doth worthily beare the praise for its pietie towards those of whom it was generated, its affection to∣wards those that are generated of her; for first she breeds egges within her, which in a short time after are spauned. But shee doth not as soone as her young ones are formed and procreated, bring them straight way forth into the light after the man∣ner of other fishes, that bring forth their young alive, but nourisheth two within her, as if shee brought forth twice, and had a second broode. These she doth not put forth before they are of some bignesse, then she teacheth them to swimme and to play in the water, but suffers them not to goe farre from her, and anon gapes and re∣ceives them by her mouth into her bowells againe, suffering them to inhabite there, and to feede in her belly so long as shee thinkes fit.

That Savage, or brute beasts may bee made tame.

THevet reporteth, that the Emperour of the Turkes hath at Caire (it was once cal∣led * 1.44 Memphis) and at Constantinople, many savage beasts kept for his delight, as Lions, Tigers, Leopards, Antilopes, Camels, Elephants, Porcupines, and many other of this kinde. These they use to leade about the citie to shew. The masters of them are girt with a girdle, hung about with little bells, that by noise of these bells the people may be forewarned to keepe themselves from being hurt by these beasts. But in hope of reward and of gifts, they shew them to Embassadours of strange nati∣ons, before whom they make these beasts doe a thousand very delightfull trickes, and in the interim, they play their countrey tunes and musicke upon their pipes, and other instruments, and make many sports in hope of gaine.

That Fishes also may be tamed.

BVt it is far more wonderfull, that the creatures of the water should be made tame, and be taught by the Art of man. Among which, the chiefest are held to be the Eele. The same things also are reported of the Lamprey. For wee have it recorded, that Marcus Crassus had a Lamprey in his Fish-poole, that was so tame, and so well taught, that he could command her at his pleasure. Therefore as a domesticall and tame beast he gave her a name, by which when he called her, she would come. And when this Lamprey died, hee mourned for her in blacke, as if shee had beene his daughter. Which when his Collegue, Cnaeus Domitius objected to him, by way of reproach, he replying, told him, that he had buried three wives, and had mourned for none of all them three.

That men were taught by beasts to polish, and to whet their weapons, and to lie in ambush.

SOuldiers are carefull to keepe their weapons from rust, and therefore they carrie them to the Armorers tobe polished. But in ths care, many beasts are nothing in∣ferior unto them; for Boares whet their tuskes against they fight. And the Elephant knowing that one of his teeth is doubled with digging at the rootes of trees to get meate, keepeth the other sharpe, and touches nothing with it, preserving it for

his combate with the Rihnocerot his enemy; but the craft of the Rhinocerot is very remarkeable, that being in continuall enmity with the Elephant, at the time

[illustration]

when hee prepares for the battell, he whets his horne against a rocke, as if it were * 1.45 with a whetstone; nor (if he can chuse) will he strike any other part of the Elephant but the belly, because he knowes that part of the Elephant is so tender, that it may be easily pierced. This beast is in length equall to the Elephant, but i•• height hee is inferior unto him, by reason of the shortnesse of his feete; he is of a palish yellow co∣lour, and full of many sports.

Of the Lion, the Ichneumon, and those other beasts which are not easily terrified.

THe Lion when hee goes, hath his clawes alwayes clutched, and as it were put up in their sheathes, not onely because hee would leave no marke of his feete, * 1.46 whereby hee may bee traced and so taken, but because by continuall walking, hee should weare off, and blunt the points of his clawes. Bulls when they fight charge one another with their hornes, and like valiant souldiers, provoke, and animate one another to the battell.

The Ichneumon seemes to imitate the most valiant souldier in his preparation, and accesse to battell, for hee bedawbes himselfe with mudde, and doth as it were buckle and make tite his armour; especially when hee is to encounter with the Cro∣codile; who although hee be a vaste beast, is put to flight by this little creature. And this truly hath beene observed to bee by the singular providence of na∣ture, * 1.47 that the most vaste creatures are terrified by the least things, and such from whence there can arise no danger; so they say the Elephant doth startle at the grunting of an hogge, and the Lion, at the crowing of a Cocke; although it be reported of the Lion that no feare can make him turne his face. These kinde of feares, terrors, and affrightments, arising upon light, and most ridiculous oc∣casions, wee finde as well in the ancient as moderne Histories of our times, to have dispersed and put to flight mightie legions of souldiers, and most potent armies.

Of Cockes.

COckes are kingly birds, and therefore nature hath adorned them with a combe, * 1.48 as with a princely Diadem, and wheresoever they come, their magnanimity and courage makes them Kings. They fight with their beakes and their spurres; and with their martiall voice they fright the Lion who is otherwise the King of beasts.

Of Conies.

COnies have taught us the Art of undermining the earth, whereby the most loftie Cities, and structures reaching the very skies, are by taking away their * 1.49 foundation levelled with the ground.

Marcus Varro writes, that in Spaine there was a towne, and that no meane one, which standing on a sandy ground was so undermined by a company of Conies, that all the houses tumbling and falling downe to the ground, the inhabitants were faine to depart and seeke new dwellings.

Of Wolfes.

MEn have learnt the arts of waging warre from the Woulfes, for they * 1.50 come out by troupes, and lie in ambush neere the townes which they have appointed, and then one of them runnes unto the towne and provokes the dogges. And making as if hee runne away incites the dogges to follow him, untill he hath gotten them unto the place where their ambush lieth, which on a sodaine ap∣peareth, and rusheth out upon them. And so they kill and eate all, or as many of the dogges as they are able to catch.

Of the Fox.

IN subtilty and craft the Fox exceedeth all other beasts; when in the chase the * 1.51 Doggs are at his heeles, he berayes and bepisses his taile, and swings it in the face and eyes of the Dogges that follow him, and so blinding them, in the meane time getts ground of them. To fetch the Hens downe from their pearch he hath this devise, hee shakes and swings his taile upwards and downewards, as if hee meant to throw it at them; which they fearing tumble down, & he takes up one of them for his prey. His warinesse when he passeth over a River that is frozen is wonderfull, for he goes softly to the banck, and layes his eare to listen, if he can heare the noyse of the water running under the ice. For if he can, back he goes, and will not venter to passe over. The knowledge of which thing he could never meerely by his subtilty and * 1.52 craft attaine unto, but that of necessity hee must have some faculty of reasoning. ioyned with it, which by discourse and by proving one thing by another arrives at this Conclusion: Whatsoever is liquid and maketh a noyse is in motion, whatso∣ever liquid is in motion is not concrete and frozen, that which is not concrete and * 1.53 frozen is liquid, whatsoever is liquid will not beare a heavier body, whatsoever will not beare a heavier body, cannot with safety be adventured on; And therefore backe againe must I goe, and not passe over this River.

Of Swine.

SWine, if in the woods, they heare any one of the same Heard with them crying out, they straight make a stand, and marshalling their forces haste all, as if they had beene warned by the sound of a martiall trumpet, to the assistance of their fellowes.

Of the fishes Scarus and Anthia.

PLutarch reports of the Scari, that when one of them chances to swallow a hooke and be taken, the rest of the same kind come in to his reskue, and shearing the * 1.54 Line with their teeth set him at liberty. But the readines of the Anthiae to the mutuall assistance of one another, is yet more manifest, for by casting the Line upon which the hooke hangeth, on their backe, with the sharpnesse of their fins they cut it asunder, and so set free themselves and their captived fellowes.

Of the Pilot Fish.

THere is great kindnesse betweene the Pilot Fish and the Whale. For although in bulke of body the Whale so farr exceed him, yet he leades the Whale and goes alwayes before him as his Pilot, to keepe him from running himselfe into any straight or muddy place, whence he might not easily get out. And therefore the Whale al∣wayes followes him, and very willingly suffers himselfe to be led by him, it being for his owne good. And in like manner he getts into the Whales mouth, and there * 1.55 lodging himselfe sleepes when he sleepes, and leaves him not either by day, or night.

Of Cranes.

CRanes when they are to take a long journey into some Countrey crosse the seas, put their company in so good order, that no Captaine can put his soldiers in * 1.56 better. For before they stir out of any place, they have as it were their trumpets to call them together, and encourage them to fly. They come together and then fly up on high, that they may see a far off, choosing a Captaine whom they are to follow. They have their Serjants to take care of their rankes, and keepe their nightly watches by turnes. Plutarch tells us that the Crane, which is appointed to stand * 1.57 Sentinell for all the rest, holds a stone in her foote, to the end that if she chance to

give way to nature and sleepe, she may be waked by the noise of the falling stone. The leader lifting up his head, and stretching out his long necke, lookes about him farre and wide, and gives warning to the rest, of any danger, that may befall them. The strongest leade the way, that they may the better with the flapping of their wings breake the force of the aire, and this they doe by turnes. And that they may the easilier prevaile against the force and opposition of the winds, they dispose their company into a wedge in the forme of the Greeke letter Δ or a triangle; and being skilfull in the starres they foresee when tempests are comming, and fly downe to the ground to keepe themselves from the injury of the approaching storme.

Of Geese.

THe Geese of Sicilie doe with great warinesse take care that by their ceeking and their noyse, they doe not expose themselves to the rapacity of Birds of prey: (for Plutarch sayth) that when they are to fly over the hill Taurus, for feare of the Eagles that are there, they hold stones in their mouthes to keepe themselves from * 1.58 gaggling, untill that they come unto a place where they may be secure.

Of Dragons.

NEither are the Dragons lesse crafty; for thus doe they overcome those vaste and otherwise invincible beasts the Elephants. They lye in ambush and suddainly * 1.59 set upon the Elephants where they feare no such matter, and involve their leggs with the twines of their taile, in such sort, that they are not able to goe forward; and stop their nosthrils with their heads so that they cannot fetch their breath, they pull out their eyes, and wheresoever they find the skin most tender, there they bite and sucke the blood untill they make them fall downe dead. Pliny sayth, that there are Dragons found in Aethiopia of ten Cubits long, but that in India there are Dragons of an * 1.60 100. foot long, that fly so high, that they fetch Birds and take their prey even from the midst of the cloudes.

Of the Fish called, the Fisherman.

THis Fish is called the Fisherman, because he hunts and takes other Fishes, which * 1.61 he doth almost by the same cunning which the Cuttell uses; for he hath hanging at his throat a certaine bagge like the Wattells of a Turckycocke. This when hee listeth he casteth out, and layeth before the little fishes for a baite, and then by litle and litle drawes it up againe untill he catch for food the litle fishes seazing upon it as a prey.

Of the Cuttell Fish.

VVOnderfull is the craft of the Cuttell Fishes, for they carry a bladder at their * 1.62 necke full of a blacke juice or Inke, which they poure forth as soone as they feele themselves taken; that so they may blinde the eyes of the Fishermen, as Plutarch saith; and as Aristotle witnesseth, they with their long fangs doe not onely * 1.63 hunt and take little Fishes, but oftentimes also Mullets.

Of the Armes or weapons of brute beasts.

BRute beasts are naturally so furnished with armes, that they have no neede to get, make or borrow in any other place.

And some of them neverthelesse are so furnished with such armes that they capti∣vate those which hold them prisoners; an example of this is the Torpedo, which doth not onely hurt by touch, but also by the net being betweene, he breathes such a qua∣lity from him, as stupifies the hands of the Fishermen, so that they are forced to let goe their nets, and so let him goe; moreover if it touch a ship it makes it stay. Thevet writes, that the Persian bay towards Arabia nourishes a Fish equall in length and * 1.64

thicknesse to a Carpe, on every side encompassed with sharpe and strong pricks, like our Porcupine, with which hee fights against all kinds of fish. If a man chance but to be lightly hurt either with these or his teeth, he will dye within 24. houres.

Of the fish Vtelif.

HEe saith moreover, that as he was carryed by force of tempest through the Atlanticke Ocean, he saw this fish having as it were a Saw in his forehead of three foot long, and foure fingers broad, armed on each side with sharpe spikes; They call it Vtelif in their Country speech.

Of the fish Caspilly.

THere is another fish to be seene in the Arabian Gulfe, which the Arabians call Caspilly, its two foot long and as many broad, it hath a skin not much unlike a Dogfish, but armed with spikes, one whereof he carryes in his forehead a foot and halfe broad, in sharpenesse and force of cutting not much short of a graver or chissell: with this weapon when she is opprest with hunger she assailes the first fish shee meets, neither doth she give over before she carry her as a prey, * 1.65 whither she please, as Thevet saith he hath seene.

Of Crabs.

CRabs and Lobsters though in the quantity of their body they be but small, yet they use their forked clawes before, not onely in feeding but also in defending themselves and assailing others.

Of the Docility of Beasts, and first of the Dog.

BEasts are apt to learne those things which men desire, whereby they shew them∣selves not wholy void of reason. For Dogges, Apes and Horses learne to creepe thorough the Iuglers hoopes, and rise on their hinder feet as though they would dance. Plutarch tells, that a Iugler had a Dog which would represent many things * 1.66 upon the stage befitting the occasion and argument of the play; amongst the rest, hee exceeded all admiration in that, that taking a soporificke medicine, hee excellently feigned himselfe dead; for first as taken with a giddinesse in his head he begun to tremble, then presently fell down, and lying on the ground, as it were contracted his dying members, and lastly as if truely dead he waxt stiffe; and moreover suffered himselfe diversly to be fitted according to divers parts of the Theater, the fable so requiring. But when he, by those things that were said and done, * 1.67 knew it was time to rise, he first begun to move his legs by litle and litle, as if hee had been wakened from a sound sleepe; then presently with his head a litle lifted up, hee looked this way and that way to the great admiration of all the beholders, and finally rise up and went familiarly and cheerfully to him he should; the which sight the Em∣perour Vespatian (who was then present in Marcellus his Theater) never saw any which more delighted him.

Of the Ape.

AN Ape is a ridiculous Creature, and which makes men much sport, in imitating * 1.68 their actions. There hath beene seen an Ape which would pipe and sing, and be∣sides dance and write, and endeavour to performe many other things proper to men. I remember I saw in the Duke of Somes house a great and curst Ape, who because he much troubled many, had his hands cut off, who suffering himself to be cured, when the wound was cicatrized, he grew more mild and docile. Wherefore cloathed in a greene coate, and girt over his loines with a girdle, he carried hanging therat a case of specta∣cles, a paire of knives & a childs handkercheife. He was commited to the charge of the Master Cooke to teach, because he had taken up his lodging in the Chimney corner,

hee was taught many pretty tricks and feates. If at any time hee swarved from his doctrine and precepts, in a trice the whip was upon his back & loines, and much was abated of his daily allowance, for as Persius saith, The belly is the master of Arts and sharpener of wit. By these means be profited so, in a short time, that he much exceeded all the Apes of his time in the glory of his wit; & there was none counted more skilfull in leaping and dancing to the pipe, running up a pole and nimbly leaping through his Masters legs. To conclude; he performed all the actions of a strong Ape, and very re∣verently carried up dishes with the waiters & servingmen, and made cleane the dishes and platters by licking, and did much other drudgery, so that he was commonly called Master Iohn Do-all. At dinner and supper sitting in a chaire he said grace, and cast his eyes up towards heaven, and rouled them this way and that way, and smote his breast with the stumpes of his hands with much lamentation, and imitated prayer by the gnashing, or beating together of his teeth. He would turne up his taile to any that of∣fended him (for his coate scarse covered halfe his buttocks lest he should have filed it) he made much other pastime, alwayes going upright by reason of the cutting away of his hands, unlesse at any time through wearinesse he were forced to sit on his buttocks.

Of Ravenous birds.

BVt let us take a view of Faulconers teaching ravenous birds, how with swift wings * 1.69 carried aloft into the Aire, they may seaze upon other Birds and cast them downe dead to the ground; in performance whereof, they often too freely soare up to the clouds so that they carry themselves out of the Faulconers sight, with a desire to sun themselves, neglecting in the meane time their designed prey.

The Herne when she sees her selfe kept under and below the Falcon carried up by * 1.70 his strong wings with a merveilous swiftnesse, with her beake, which is long & sharpe, hid under her wings and turned upwards, she receives the Falcon blinded with the heat of fight and desire of prey, carelesly flying downe and rushing upon him; so that he often strikes him through the gorge, so that oft times they both fall downe dead to the ground. But if the Falcon without harme escape the deceits by Arte & the happy turning of his body, and the Herne be not cast downe, the Faulconer calling her backe with never so loud a voyce, yet by setting up her Feathers she dares her to the pre∣tended fight.

Of the Camels.

THe Camell is a very domesticall and gentle beast, and which is easily tamed * 1.71 and taught all kind of obedience and service; although some of them are cruell wilde and troublesome by biting and striking such as they meet, no lesse than vnta∣med horses. There is no neede to house them in the night, for they may be left in the plaine fields in the open and free aire, feeding upon the grasse and trees and cropping the tops of the thistles, neither in the morning doe they any whit the worse under∣goe or carry their burdens. They are not put to carry burdens before they be foure yeare old. The Arabians geld them young, that they may enjoy their labour the * 1.72 longer, neither being gelt doe they rage for love or desire of venery. At the put∣ting in of the Spring they endure hunger and thirst for eight dayes; they are so dutifull, that at the becke of the Turkish slaves, or but touched on the necke with a twigge, they presently kneele on the ground to take up their burden, neither doe they lift themselves up before that they finde they have a sufficient load layd upon them. Those which have but one bunch on their backe are of Africke; but such * 1.73 as have two bunches are of Asia, or Scythia. Those kinde of Camels that are the bigger are used to carry packes, but the lesser are used to ride upon, as our horses are. They love nothing so well as beanes, and yet they live content with foure * 1.74 handfulls of beanes for a day. The greatest wealth of the Arabians consists in Camels, and so they estimate their riches, not by the quantity of silver, or gold, but by the number of Camels. The Turkish Emperour (Thevet being the reporter) made a Captaine over the heards of his Camels, giving him a great troope, of African and Christian slaves, that they might be the better looked unto. I have heard it reported (saith Thevet) by certaine Arabian, African and Iewish Merchants who were present, at that time when Sultan Selim the first of that name,

beseiged Caire in Aegypt (which in former times was called 〈◊〉〈◊〉) that there, * 1.75

[illustration]

was then in that Emperours army sixtie thousand Cammels, besides a mighty company of Mules.

That Birds have taught us musicall tunes.

THe Nightingales are sweet and excellent singers, tuning rheir notes with infinite * 1.76 quaverings, and diversities of sounds, so pretily and sweetly, that humane in∣dustry can scarse equall the sweetnesse thereof, by so many musicall instruments; so that wee say hee sings like a Nightingale, who varies his voice with much varietie. In which thing Birds much excell men, because they have that admirall sweetnesse of singing from nature it selfe without any labour of learning; which men can scarse attaine to in any schoole of musicke, by having their eares a thousand times pluckt by the hand of a curst master.

That Beasts know one anothers voice.

BEasts know one another by their voice, so that they may seeme to talke and * 1.77 to laugh together, whilest flattering with their eares, they plucke in their noses, with a pleasant aspect of their eyes; and as speech is given to men, so Birds have their naturall voice which is of the same use to them, as speech is to us. For all birds of the same species, as men of the same countrey, chant and chirpe to one ano∣ther, when men understand not the speech of other men, unlesse of the same nation. Wherefore the Scythian tongue is no more profitable to one living in Egypt, than if * 1.78 hee were dumbe; nor the Egyptians understand it no more than if they were deafe: Wherefore an Egyptian is dumbe and deafe to a Scythian. This those which travell well understand how many dangers, how many troubles they undergoe, because they cannot expresse their mindes, and require things necessary for life. Wherefore to the assistance of this unprofitable tongue, we are compelled to call the rest of the members, and to abuse the gestures of the head, eyes, hands, and feete. Truly the condition of brute beasts is not so miserable, seeing that all of the same kinde where∣soever they bee, may answer each other with a knowne voice. Truly if any should heare a Germane, Briton, Spaniard, Englishman, Polonian, and Greeke, speaking a∣mongst themselves in their native tongues, not understanding any of them, he could scarce discerne, and certainely judge, whether hee heard the voice of men or of beasts.

That Birds may counterfeit Mans voice.

LInets, Larkes, Pies, Rookes, Dawes, Crowes, Stares, and other such like Birds, speake, sing, whistle, and imitate the voices of men, and other creatures. In this * 1.79 Parrots excell all other, being wondrous skilfull imitaters of mens voices, and very merry, but specially when they have drunke a little wine.

Plutarke reports that there was a Barber at Rome, who kept a Pie in his shop, which spoke exceeding well, and that of her owne accord, none teaching her, when * 1.80 she first heard men talking together; shee imitated the voice or crie of all beasts shee heard, as also the sound of Drums, and the noise of Pipes, and Trumpets; to con∣clude, there was nothing which shee did not endevour to imitate. There have beene Crowes that have spoken and articulately sung songs, and Psalmes, and that of some length. To which purpose the Historie of Macrobius is notable; for hee tels that * 1.81 there was one amongst those, who went forth for lucke sake to meete with Augustus Casar, returning from the warre against Antonius, who carried a Crow, which hee had taught plainely to pronounce this saluation; Salve Caesar Imperator augustissime, that is, God save thee, O most sacred Emperor Caesar. Caesar taken with the noveltie of this spectacle, bought this obsequious Bird with a thousand peeces of silver. Pliny and Valerius have reckoned up amongst prodigies, Oxen and Asses that have spoken. I omit infinite. other things recorded by the ancients, Plato, Aristotle Pliny, Plutarch, and other Philosophers of great credite, of the docilitie of beasts, and their

admirable felicity of understanding. Which things, if untrue, these learned men would never have recorded in writing, lest so they might brand with vanity, (then which nothing is more base,) the rest of their writings to posterity in all ensuing ages.

Of the Sympathy and Antipathy of Living creatures amongst themselves.

HAving briefly described the understanding of brute beasts, it seemes not im∣pertinent to set downe some things more worthy of knowledge, happe∣ning unto them by reason of Sympathy and antipathy; that is, mutuall agree∣ment and disagreement, which happens not onely to them living, but also dead, by a certaine secret and hidden propertie, through occasion whereof some desire, o∣ther shun, and others prosequute one another even to death. In testimony wher∣of; * 1.82 The Lyon the king of beasts excelling all other in courage and magnanimitie, feares the Cocke, for he is not onely terrified by his presence, but also by his crowing being absent. So an Elephant feares a Hogge; but hee is so affraid of Mice and Ratts, that he will not touch the meat that is given him, if hee smell that it hath beene defiled with such creatures. There is deadly hatred betweene the Elephant and Rhinocerot; yet when the Elephant is furious and angry, hee becoms quiet and calme at the sight of a Ram. A horse is so afraid of a Camel, that he cannot endure * 1.83 his sight. The Dog hates the Wolfe, the Hart flyes the Dogge. The Snake flyes from and feares a naked man, and followes him being clothed. There is deadly hatred between the Aspis and Ichneumon, for he when he hath rowled himselfe in the clay, dryes himselfe in the Sunne, and so being covered over (by doing thus diverse times) as it were with shells, or armour, he enters into Combat, stretching out his taile and presenting his backe, untill he get opportunity to choake his adversary, by leaping and fastening on her jawes, by which stratageme he also kills the Crocodile. The green Lizard is a capitall enemy to the Serpent, but most friendly to man, as Erasmus witnesseth by many historyes concerning that matter, in his dialogue of Sympathy and Antipathy. There is a great deale of hatred betweene a man and a Wolfe, which is most manifest by this, that if the Wolues first see a man, his voyce is taken away, and his intended cry hindred. If the Weasell intend to set upon the Aspis that most venemous Serpent, shee armes her selfe by eating Rue, as a most cer∣taine Antidote. The Ape feares the Torpedo, as Erasmus manifests by a plea∣sant history in the fore mentioned Dialogue; where also he pretily shews the dead∣ly * 1.84 hatred betweene the Serpent called Areus and the Toad. The like hate is between the Owle and Crowes, so that the Owle dares not go out, fly abroad, or seeke her food unlesse by night. The water or River fowle are afraid of the Falcon; that if they but heare her bells, they had rather be killd with staves and stones, than take wing to fly into the aire. So the Larke yeelds her selfe to be taken by a man, least she fall into the tallents of the Hobby. The Castrill, or Merlin is naturally a terrour to Haukes, so that they both shun his voyce and presence.

The Kites are all at perpetuall enmity with the Crowes, wherefore the Crow al∣wayes * 1.85 gets away the Kites provision. All kind of Pullen feare the Foxe. The Chicken feares neither a Horse, nor an Elephant, but scarse hatched, it presently runs away at the voyce or sight of a Kite, and hides it selfe under the hens wings. The Lambe and Kid flye from the Wolfe when they first see him, nether doth * 1.86 death give an end to that hatred, but it superviues their funerall. An Experiment whereof (they say) is, that if one drum be headed with Wolves skinnes and another with Sheepes, and beaten up together, you shall scarse heare the sound of the Drum covered with sheepes skins. And besides, if you string one Harpe with strings made of sheepes gutts, and another with strings of Wolues gutts, you cannot bring it to passe, by any Arte, to make them agree and goe in one tune. It is reported from the experiments of many men, that if a Wolues head be hanged up on high in the place where Sheepe are, that they will not touch the grasse how good and fresh soever it be, nor rest quiet in any place, but tumultnously runne up and downe, untill all such kinde of terrour be taken away; The hate

betwixt Mice and Weasells appeares by this, that if you mixe never so little of the * 1.87 braines of a Weasell in the rennet, with which you crudle you Cheese, the Mice will never gnaw or touch that cheese. The Linnet doth so hate the bird Florus, that both their bloods put into one vessell cannot be mixed together. A Wolues head hung up in a dovehouse, drives away Poll. Cats and Weasells. The Panther and Hyaena burne with so great hatred, that if both their skins be laid one against the other, the Pan∣thers will shed the haire, the haires of the Hyaena remaining entire and not moved, which thing, they say, happens to the feathers of other birds if any one chance to tye them up in a bundle with the Eagles. Let these suffise for some few examples of many, of the Antipathy amongst beasts. But of the Sympathy, and consent of beasts amongst themselves, I thinke needlesse to write any thing, being it is sufficiently knowne to all, that one Iay associates another, and the cruell Beares agree amongst themselves; and beasts of the same species doe wonderfully consent one with another.

That Man excells all beasts.

I Now thinke it fit to assay to write of that excellency of man over beasts, which I have so long intended. Neither would I that Epicures and other too much naturall and materiate Philosophers, so take those things I haue written of the endowments of beasts, as though we should thinke, there were no difference be∣tweene man and beast. I had no such meaning, no such intention; but onely that man should not become too stately, or too ingrate in lesse acknowledging God to be the Author of so many benefits with which he abounds. For whatsoever we have largely spoken of beasts, yet there is no comparison betweene beasts and man, for there is too great a difference betweene them. For mans minde is adorned with reli∣gion, justice, prudence, magnanimitie, faith, piety, modesty, clemency, fortitude and other vertues as lights, which shine much more bright in man than in beasts. For they are sometimes all in some one man, each whereof are thought great in beasts. For seeing that man is made to the Image of God, it cannot be, how much soever he * 1.88 defile himselfe with the pollution of vices, that he can so obscure that inbred light, but that alwayes some beame of the divine wisedome will be inherent and shine in him. But although by collation to some beasts, hee may seeme a defective and weake Creature; yet no fortitude nor strength of beasts can be so great as to equall the fortitude of man. For God hath engraven in man the character of his divine virtue, by the assistance whereof, he might have all beasts under and obedient to him. And though by that we have formerly said, beasts may seeme to have a certaine shadow of reason, yet that small light is not fit for many and diverse uses, but there is onely given them so much providence, as should be sufficient for them and the preservation of their bodyes. But men have reason given them to crop or gather the fruits of eternall life, (as Lactantius saith) whereby it comes to passe, that man onely, a∣mongst so many creatures, hath sense and understanding of divine things. Which Cicero thought to be knowne by that, because man onely had a certaine knowledge of God in his mind. Wherfore he was enriched by God with reason, speech and hands as helps for the performance of all his actions; moreover by his singular and almost di∣vine wit he easily excells all brute beasts. For first, reason being his guide, he invented * 1.89 things necessary for life, firly imposed names on the things invented befitting their natures, framed letters and Characters, invented all liberall Arte and handy-crafts, and found meanes to measure the Land and Sea. Hee hath observed and drawne into an Arte the spaces of the Celestiall Globe, the distinctions of the Starres, the changes and orders of dayes and nights, of times and seasons, the risings and settings of Starres, and their power and effects over these lower bodyes. Lastly, he records in writing to perpetuall memory that which concernes his owne nature, or the nature of other things, the precepts and ordinances of life and manners, by which singular gift, we can now conferre with Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and other Philosophers of ancient times, as if they were living.

What benefit man hath by reason of his native nakednesse and ignorance.

BVt as Mans body is by nature naked and unarmed, so is his minde like a smoth * 1.90 table in which nothing is painted, nothing graven; but for helpe of his nakednesse he hath hands, and for supply of his ignorance, reason and speech. And by these three being as it were the ministers of infinite varietie of things, he clothes and defends his body with all things needful: & inriches his minde with the knowledge of Arts & scien∣ces. Now if he had certaine weapons borne with him, he should use them only; if he should be borne skilfull in any Arte, he would meddle with none else. Therefore be∣cause it was more expedient to use all sorts of weapons with the hand, and be skilfull in all Arts; therefore he must be borne wanting and ignorant of all. Aristotle very wit∣tily * 1.91 called the hand the instrument of instruments: in imitation of which speech, one may rightly affirme, That Reason is the Arte of Arts: for as the hand in worth exceeds the other instruments, because it can make, handle and fit them for use; so reason and speech, though names of no Arte, yet comprehend and encrease all Arts. Therefore man seeing he hath his minde instructed by Arte, that is, by reason; it is fit he should have his body defended with a weapon, or instrument, that is, the hand, which in agil∣lity and excellency should excell all other instruments. For so Man hath his hands in stead of all weapons, which he may use in warre and peace as the instruments of all Arts; he wants not the Bulls hornes, the Boares tuskes, the horses hoves, nor to con∣clude, any armes of any other beast. For by the benefit of his hands he can handle other armes farre more profitable and safe, as a Lance, Sword, Speare, halberd; but man also can use at some distance the bow, sling and handgun, when the horne and the hoose cannot be used but neer at hand. But some may say; A Lion exceeds a man in swiftnes of foot; what then? is man therefore inferiour to him? no for by the meanes of his hands and the guidance of his reason he bridling and riding upon a horse, out runs the Lyon, and being victor followes him to and againe as he himselfe pleases, or vanqui∣shed flyes away, and from the horses backe as from a tower wounds the Lyon with what weapons he pleases. To conclude, man is aboundantly provided with meanes, to defend himselfe from the violence of all other beasts. For this purpose he doth not onely harnesse himselfe as with brasen walles, but also makes ditches and Bulwarkes; he makes by the ministery of his hands all kind of weapons, weaves himself graments, casts into the water and drawes forth nets to catch fish; and to conclude, he performes all things to his owne contentment, and having that priuiledge granted him by God, * 1.92 he rules over all the earth; all things which lye hid in the bowells of the earth, which goe, or creepe upon the earth, which swim in the sea, and fly through the aire, or are any where shut up in the compasse of the skie, are in mans dominion.

How wonderfull God hath shewed himselfe in making man.

GOds Deity and providence hath principally shewed it self in the creation of man; * 1.93 neither his so admired light hath so shone in the production of other creatures, seeing that God would have them to live and have theit being, onely for mans sake, that they might serve him. Therefore man is, if we diligently consider all his endow∣ments, a certaine patterne and rule of the divine majesty & (if If I may so say) Artifice. For being made to Gods image, he is as it were his coine, exceeding the capacity of all * 1.94 humane understanding. Which seemed a just reason to the ancient Philosophers, that he should be called Microcosmos, or a litle world, because the particles of all things con∣teined in the compasse of heaven and earth, are contained in his minde and body, that in the meane time I may in silence passe over his soule more great and noble than the whole world.

Why Nature hath not given Man the facultie of persaging.

THis seemes the reason, that men by the instinct of nature doe not foresee the future seasons and dispositions of the heaven and aire; because, seeing they have * 1.95 received certaine sparks of prudence from God, by whose care and guidance they are led to the knowledge of things by no deceiptfull but certaine judgment, being not obnoxious to the conditions and changes of times and seasons, as beasts are. Where∣fore knowing all these airy changes to be placed under them, that is to say their minds, according as occasion serves, and their minds desire, they give themselves to mirth when the Aire is wet, stormy and darke, and on the contrary in a cleare and faire sea∣son to a sincere and grave meditation of things sublime & full of doubt. But beasts ac∣commodating themselves to that disposition of the aire which is present & at hand, are lively, or sad, not from any judgment as men, but according to the temper and cō∣plexion of their bodies following the inclinations of the aire, and of the humors one while diffused, another while contracted. Neither ought we to blame man, because he can imitate the voyce of beasts, but rather much commend him, that he can infinite∣ly * 1.96 wrest and vary one thing, that is his voyce; for men can barke like Foxes and doggs, grunt like hogs; whet and grinde their teeth like boares; roare like Lyons; bellow like Bulls; neigh like horses; knacke their teeth like Apes; houle like Wolues; bray like Asses; bleate like Goats and Sheepe; mourne like Beares, Pigeons and Turtles; Keeke and gaggle like geese; hisse like Serpents; cry like Storkes, caw like a Crow, and crow like a Cocke, clocke like Hennes; chatter as Swallowes and Pyes; sing like Nightingales; croake like Frogs; imitate the singing of Waspes and Hum∣ming of Bees; Mew like Catts: The singing of Birds scarse seemes to merit the name of Musicall, compared to the harmony of men fitted and tuned with * 1.97 infinite variety of voyces. For with this they possesse the eares of Kings and Princes; provoke and temper their wrath, and carry mens minds beyond themselves, and trans∣forme them into what habits they please. But if those cruell beasts have any hu∣manitie, they owe it all to man. For he tames Lyons, Elephants, Beares, Tigers, Leapards, Panthers and such other like.

Of the Crocodile.

PLutarch reports of the Crocodile (whose figure is here deliniated) that being tamed, and taught by man, hee doth not onely heare mans voyce, and an∣sweres * 1.98 to his call, but suffers himselfe to be handled, and opening his throate, lets his teeth be scratched and wiped with a towell. How small a part of Phy∣sicke is that, which beasts are taught by nature? Certainely nothing in com∣parison of man, who by the study and practise of a few yeares can learne at his fingers endes all the parts of Physicke: and practise them not onely for his owne, but also for the common good of all men. But why cannot beasts attaine unto the knowledge of Physicke so well as men? I thinke, because so great an Arte as Physicke is, cannot be attained unto by the dull capacities of Beasts.

But for that I have written of the Religion of Elephants, if I must speake according to the truth of the matter, wee cannot say they worship God, or * 1.99 have any sense of the divine Majesty. For how can they have any knowledge of sublime things or of God, seeing they wholy following their foode, know not how to meditate on celestiall things? Now for that they behold and turne them∣selves to the Moone by night, and to the Sunne in the morning, they doe not that as worshipping, or for that they conceive any excellency or divinitie in the Sunne; but because nature so requiring and leading them, they feele their bodyes to rejoyce in that light, and their entralls and humors to move and stirre

them to it. Therefore when we attributed religion to Elephants, we said it rather popularly, than truely, and more that we might exhort men to the worship of God,

[illustration]

than that we thought Elephants had any knowledge of divine worship implanted in their mindes.

That man may attaine unto the knowledge of all voyces and tongues.

THe docility of mans wit is so great, and the facillity of the body obeying that divine gift of wit such, that he is not onely able to learne to understand and speak

the tongues of diverse nations differing in so many peculiar languages; and not only to imitate and counterfeit the voyces of all beasts though so much different from * 1.100 man, which many flattering and jugling companions, followers of other mens tables, will doe; but also may be able to know and understand both what they pretend and signifie. In confirmation of which thing they cite the Philosopher Apollonius most famous in this kind of study and knowledge. He walking on a time amongst a company of his friends thorough the field, and seeing a Sparrow come flying and chirping much to diverse other Sparrowes sitting upon a tree, is reported, to have said to those which were with him: That bird, which came flying hither, told the other in her language; that an Asse laided with corne was fallen downe at the City gate, and had shed the wheat upon the ground. Wherefore Apollonius and all his friends which were with him went thither to see whether it were so, and found that it was so, as he had told them, and observed that the Sparrowes moved thereto by the comming of the other, were eating up the graines of Corne shed on the ground.

But for Crowes and Pyes artificially taught to counterfeit mens voyces, it is too small a thing, that for that cause they should contend with men. For they have quickly babled all they have learnt with longer cost and labour, tediously singing still the same song, and whatsoever they prate they doe it without sense, understanding or any reason for what they say. But man alwaies contemplating somewhat more high, still thinkes of greater things than these present, and never rests. But burning with an * 1.101 infinite and endlesse desire of knowledge, hee doth not onely covet to know these things which appertaine to food and clothing, but by casting up his eyes towards heaven, and by the light of his minde, he learnes and understands things divine. Which is so certaine an argument of the celestiall originall of our soule, that hee which con∣siders those things can no wayes doubt, but that we have our minds seasoned, by the universall divine understanding. But now it is time for us to set upon the description of the body, the habitation and fit instrument of all the functions of that divine minde.

The ende of the second Booke.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The diffe∣rence of brute beasts.
• * 1.2

  Some shadow of vertue in beasts.
• * 1.3

  Lib. 8. cap. 27.
• * 1.4

  The crafti∣nesse of Beares.
• * 1.5

  The bird Ibis the first inven∣ter, or shewer of Clysters.
• * 1.6

  The invention of removing a Cataract.
• * 1.7

  The invention of Phleboto∣mie.
• * 1.8

  A preservative against thun∣der.
• * 1.9

  What the but∣ting of Rams signifies.
• * 1.10

  Presages of raine.
• * 1.11

  The signe at sea of a storme at hand.
• * 1.12

  The Croco∣dile by laying her egges, shewes the b••••…••••…s of the increase of the river Ni∣lus.
• * 1.13

  How Fishes provide for their safetie against a storme.
• * 1.14

  How they swimme a∣gainst the streame.
• * 1.15

  Of what things birds build their neasts.
• * 1.16

  In what shape.
• * 1.17

  With what care Spar∣rowes breed their young.
• * 1.18

  How the Spiders weave
• * 1.19

  How they catch their prey.
• * 1.20

  Bees chuse themselves a King
• * 1.21

  Their pitch∣ing their tents.
• * 1.22

  Their obse∣quies for their dead King.
• * 1.23

  Their justice.
• * 1.24

  Their watch.
• * 1.25

  Their divers imployments.
• * 1.26

  They punish sloth with ba∣nishment.
• * 1.27

  Aristomachus a diligent ob∣server of Bees.
• * 1.28

  Lib. 11. &. 30
• * 1.29

  Wonderfull care.
• * 1.30

  There is no∣thing but may be attained by diligence.
• * 1.31

  The formes of all vertues ex∣prest in Pis∣mi••••s.
• * 1.32

  Diligence the mother of wealth.
• * 1.33

  The industry of Partridge in preserving their young.
• * 1.34

  How Hares provide for themselues and their young, for feare of hun∣ters.
• * 1.35

  The care of the Hedg-hogge to pro∣vide for her young.
• * 1.36

  Tom. 2. lib. 23 cap. 1.
• * 1.37

  The pietie of Storkes.
• * 1.38

  The fidelity of Dogg••.
• * 1.39

  Doves free from adultery
• * 1.40

  Turtles never couple twise.
• * 1.41

  Lib. 8. cap. 1.
• * 1.42

  The religion of the Ele∣phant.
• * 1.43

  Pliny lib. 8. cap. 5.
• * 1.44

  Cosmograph. Tom. 2. lib. 19. cap 7.
• * 1.45

  Tke craft of the Rhinocerot about to fight with the Ele∣phant:
• * 1.46

  The provi∣dence of the Lion in his going.
• * 1.47

  The greatest are terrified by the least.
• * 1.48

  Cockes are Kingly and martiall birds.
• * 1.49

  Conies have taught us un∣dermining.
• * 1.50

  The deceits and ambushes of Wolfes.
• * 1.51

  The craft of the Foxe.
• * 1.52

  The Foxe seemes to rea∣son with him∣selfe.
• * 1.53

  His Sorit••••
• * 1.54

  The love of Fishes one to another.
• * 1.55

  The Whales pilot or g••••d.
• * 1.56

  Cranes order themselves in rankes.
• * 1.57

  The sentinell Crane.
• * 1.58

  The care of the Geese, that their gagling, doe them no harme.
• * 1.59

  The craft of Dragons fighting a∣gainst the Ele∣phant.
• * 1.60

  Lib. 8. cap. 11. and 12.
• * 1.61

  The craft of the Fisher∣man-fish in taking her prey.
• * 1.62

  The craft of the Cuttell to save her selfe.
• * 1.63

  Lib. 9. de Hist. animal. Cap. 37.
• * 1.64

  Cosmog. Tom. 1. lib. 10. cap. 10.
• * 1.65

  Tom. 1. lib. 5. cap 2.
• * 1.66

  The wonder∣full docillity of Dogs.
• * 1.67

  A spectacle full of admira∣tion and mirth
• * 1.68

  Gal. lib. 1. de us•• partium.
• * 1.69

  The diligence of Faulconers in training up their Hawkes.
• * 1.70

  The fight of the Herne and Faulcon,
• * 1.71

  Camel both tame and wilde.
• * 1.72

  The easie and not chargeable keeping of Camels.
• * 1.73

  Camels know when they have a suffici∣ent loade.
• * 1.74

  Camels both ••o carry bur∣dens and to ride upon.
• * 1.75

  Mighty troop of Camels.
• * 1.76

  To sing like a Nightingale
• * 1.77

  The voice to beasts is of the same use, as speech is to men.
• * 1.78

  We are as ill as deafe, when we heare an unknowne language.
• * 1.79

  Parrots are wonderfull imitaters of mans voice.
• * 1.80

  A talking Pie.
• * 1.81

  Lib. 2. Saturn. cap. 4.
• * 1.82

  The Lion feares a cocke,
• * 1.83

  A horse feares a Camell
• * 1.84

  Water foule feare the Fal∣con.
• * 1.85

  The enmity betweene the Kites and Crowes.
• * 1.86

  The discord between the Lambe and Wolfe is not ended by deal.
• * 1.87

  How to make theese that Mice will not gnaw.
• * 1.88

  Man beares Gods image:
• * 1.89

  Man hath gi∣ven names to things.
• * 1.90

  Gal. cap. 4. lib. 1. de usu part••∣um.
• * 1.91

  As the hand is the instrument of instruments so Reason is the Arte of Arts.
• * 1.92

  Man under God is the king and Em∣perour of the world.
• * 1.93

  Men is the end of all mundans things.
• * 1.94

  Man a litle world, yea al∣most a great world.
• * 1.95

  Man is not obnoxious to the Aire and stars.
• * 1.96

  One man will counterfeit the voyces of infinite varie∣tyes of beasts.
• * 1.97

  The power of Musicke.
• * 1.98

  A ••ame Cro∣codile.
• * 1.99

  In what sense we said Ele∣phants had religion.
• * 1.100

  Man not one∣ly the imitater, but the inter∣preter of the voices of beasts and birds.
• * 1.101

  The unquen∣chable desire of learning in ••an.