Hydriotaphia, urne-buriall, or, a discourse of the sepulchrall urnes lately found in Norfolk. Together with the garden of Cyrus, or the quincunciall, lozenge, or net-work plantations of the ancients, artificially, naturally, mystically considered. With sundry observations. / By Thomas Browne D. of Physick.

CHAP. V.

NOw since these dead bones have already out-lasted the living ones of Methuselah, and in a yard under ground, and thin walls of clay, out-worn all the strong and specious buildings above it; and quietly rested under the drums and tramplings of three conquests; What Prince can promise such diuturnity un∣to his Reliques, or might not glad∣ly say,

Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim.

Time which antiquates Antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all things, hath yet spared these minor Monuments. In vain we hope to be known by o∣pen and visible conservatories, when to be unknown was the means of their con∣tinuation and obscurity their protection: If they dyed by violent hands, and were thrust into their Urnes, these bone•• be∣come considerable, and some old Phi∣losophers would honour a them, whose

souls they conceived most pure, which were thus snatched from their bodies; and to retain a stranger propension unto them: whereas they weariedly left a languishing corps, and with faint de∣sires of re-union. If they fell by long and aged decay, yet wrapt up in the bundle of time, they fall into indistincti∣on, and make but one blot with Infants. If we begin to die when we live, and long life be but a prolongation of death; our life is a sad composition; We live with death, and die not in a moment. How many pulses made up the life of Methuselah, were work for Archimedes: Common Counters summe up the life of Moses his man b. Our dayes become considerable like petty sums by minute accumulations; where numerous fracti∣ons make up but small round numbers; and our dayes of a span long make not one little finger c.

If the nearnesse of our last necessity, brought a nearer conformity unto it, there were a happinesse in hoary hairs, and no calamity in half senses. But the long habit of living indisposeth us for

dying; When Avarice makes us the sport of death; When even David grew politickly cruell; and Solomon could hardly be said to be the wisest of men. But many are too early old, and before the date of age. Adversity stretcheth our dayes, misery makes Alcmenas nights, and time hath no wings unto it. But the most tedious being is that which can unwish it self, content to be nothing, or never to have been, which was be∣yond the male-content of J••b, who cur∣sed not the day of his life, but his Na∣tivity: Content to have so farre been, as to have a Title to future being; Although he had lived here but in an hidden state of life, and as it were an abortion.

What Song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzling Questions are not beyond all conjecture. What time the persons of these Ossua∣ries entred the famous Nations of the dead, and slept with Princes and Coun∣sellours, might admit a wide solution. But who were the proprietaries of these bones, or what bodies these ashes made

up, were a question above Antiquarism. Not to be resolved by man, nor easily perhaps by spirits, except we consult the Provinciall Guardians, or tutellary Observators. Had they made as good provision for their names, as they have done for their Reliques, they had not so grosly erred in the art of perpetuati∣on. But to subsist in bones, and be but Pyramidally extant, is a fallacy in du∣ration. Vain ashes, which in the obli∣vion of names, persons, times, and sex∣es, have found unto themselves, a fruit∣lesse continuation, and only arise unto late posterity, as Emblemes of mortall vanities; Antidotes against pride, vain-glory, and madding vices. Pagan vain-glories which thought the world might last for ever, had encouragement for ambition, and finding no Atropos unto the immortality of their Names, were never dampt with the necessity of oblivi∣on. Even old ambitions had the advan∣tage of ours, in the attempts of their vain-glories, who acting early, and be∣fore the probable Meridian of time, have by this time found great accom∣plishment

of their ddsignes, whereby the ancient Heroes have already out-last∣ed their Monuments, and Mechanicall preservations. But in this latter Scene of time we cannot expect such Mum∣mies unto our memories, when ambiti∣on may fear the Prophecy of Elias e, and Charles the fifth can never hope to live within two Methusela's of Hector f.

And therefore restlesse inquietude for the diuturnity of our memories unto pre∣sent considerations, seems a vanity almost out of date, and superanuated peece of folly. We cannot hope to live so long in our names, as some have done in their persons, one face of Janus holds no pro∣portion unto the other. 'Tis too late to be ambitious. The great mutations of the world are acted, or time may be too short for our designes. To extend our memories by Monuments, whose death we dayly pray for, and whose duration we cannot hope, without injury to our expectations, in the advent of the last day, were a contradiction to our be∣liefs. We whose generations are or∣dained in this setting part of time, are

providentially taken off from such i∣maginations. bAnd eing necessitated to eye the remaining particle of futurity, are naturally constituted unto thoughts of the next world, and cannot excusa∣bly decline the consideration of that du∣ration, which maketh Pyramids pil∣lars of snow, and all that's past a mo∣ment.

Circles and right lines limit and close all bodies, and the mortall right-lined circle g, must conclude and shut up all. There is no antidote against the Opium of time, which temporally considereth all things; Our Fathers finde their graves in our short memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in our Survi∣vors. Grave-stones tell truth scarce fourty years h: Generations passe while some trees stand, and old Families last not three Oaks. To be read by bare Inscriptions like many in Gruter i, to hope for Eternity by Aenigmaticall E∣pithetes, or first letters of our names, to be studied by Antiquaries, who we were, and have new Names given us like many of the Mummies, are cold

consolations unto the Students of per∣petuity, even by everlasting Lan∣guages.

To be content that times to come should only know there was such a man, not caring whether they knew more of him, was a frigid ambition in Cardan k: disparaging his horoscopal inclination and judgement of himself, who cares to subsist like Hippocrates Patients, or Achilles horses in Homer, under na∣ked nominations, without deserts and noble acts, which are the balsame of our memories, the Entelechia and soul of our subsistences. To be namelesse in worthy deeds exceeds an infamous hi∣story. The Canaanitish woman lives more happily without a name, then He∣rodias with one. And who had not ra∣ther have been the good theef, then Pi∣late?

But the iniquity of oblivion blindely scattereth her poppy, and deals with the memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity, Who can but pity the founder of the Pyramids? Herostra∣tus lives that burnt the Temple of Dia∣na,

he is almost lost that built it; Time hath spared the Epitaph of Adrians horse, confounded that of himself. In vain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names, since bad have equall durations; and Thersites is like to live as long as Agamemnon, without ••he favour of the everlasting Register: Who knows whether the best of men be known? or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot, then any that stand remembred in the known ac∣count of time? the first man had been as unknown as the last, and Methuselahs long life had been his only Chronicle.

Oblivion is not to be hired: The greater part must be content to be as though they had not been, to be found in the Register of God, not in the record of man. Twenty seven Names make up the first story, and the recorded names ever since contain not one living Century. The number of the dead long exceedeth all that shall live. The night of time far surpasseth the day, and who knows when was the Aequi••ox? Euery houre addes unto that current Arithmetique, which scarce stands one moment. And

since death must be the Lucina of lise, and even Pagans could doubt whether thus to live, were to dye. Since our longest Sunne sets at right descensions, and makes but winter arches, and there∣fore it cannot be long before we lie down in darknesse, and have our light in ashes. Since the brother of death daily haunts us with dying memento's, and time that grows old it self, bids us hope no long duration: Diuturnity is a drean and fol∣ly of expectation.

Darknesse and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with me∣mory, a great part even of our living beings; we slightly remember our feli∣cities, and the smartest stroaks of affli∣ction leave but short smart upon us. Sense endureth no extremities, and sor∣rows destroy us or themselves. To weep into stones are fables. Afflictions induce callosities, miseries are slippery, or fall like snow upon us, which notwithstand∣ing is no unhappy stupidity. To be ig∣norant of evils to come, and forgetfull of evils past, is a mercifull provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture

of our few and evil dayes, and our de∣livered senses not relapsing into cutting remembrances, our sorrows are not kept raw by the edge of repetitions. A great part of Antiquity contented their hopes of subsistency with a transmigra∣tion of their souls. A good way to con∣tinue their memories, while having the advantage of plurall successions, they could not but act something remarkable in such variety of beings, and enjoying the fame of their passed selves, make accumulation of glory unto their last du∣rations. Others rather then be lost in the uncomfortable night of nothing, were content to recede into the common being, and make one particle of the pub∣lick soul of all things, which was no more then to return into their unknown and divine Originall again. Aegyptian inge∣nuity was more unsatisfied, contriving their bodies in sweet consistences, to at∣tend the return of their souls. But all was vanity, feeding the winde, and fol∣ly. The Aegyptian Mummies, which Cambyses or time hath spared, avarice now consumeth. Mummie is become

Merchandise, Mizraim cures wounds, and Pharaoh is sold for balsoms.

In vain do individuals hope for Im∣mortality, or any patent from oblivion, in preservations below the Moon: Men have been deceived even in their flatteries above the Sun, and studied conceits to perpetuate their names in heaven. The various Cosmography of that part hath already varied the names of contrived constellations; Nimrod is lost in Orion, and Osyris in the Dogge-starre. While we look for incorruption in the heavens, we finde they are but like the Earth; Durable in their main bodies, alterable in their parts: whereof beside Comets and new Stars, perspectives begin to tell tales. And the spots that wander about the Sun, with Phaetons favour, would make clear conviction.

There is nothing strictly immortall, but immortality; whatever hath no be∣ginning may be confident of no end. All others have a dependent being, and within the reach of destruction, which is the peculiar of that necessary essence that cannot destroy it self; And the

highest strain of omnipotency to be so powerfully constituted, as not to suffer even from the power of it self. But the sufficiency of Christian Immortality fru∣strates all earthly glory, and the quality of either state after death, makes a folly of posthumous memory. God who can only destroy our souls, and hath assured our resurrection, either of our bodies or names hath directly promised no duration. Wherein there is so much of chance that the boldest Expectants have found unhappy frustration; and to hold long subsistence, seems but a scape in oblivion. But man is a Noble Ani∣mal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave, solemnizing Nativities and Deaths with equall lustre, nor omitting Ceremonies of bravery, in the infamy of his nature.

Life is a pure flame, and we live by an invisible Sun within us. A small fire sufficeth for life, great flames seemed too little after death, while men vainly affected precious pyres, and to burn like Sardanapalus, but the wisedom of fune∣rall Laws found the folly of prodigall

blazes, and reduced undoing fires, unto the rule of sober obsequies, wherein few could be so mean as not to provide wood, pitch, a mourner, and an Urne.

Five Languages secured not the Epi∣taph of Gordianus; The man of God lives longer without a Tomb then any by one, invisibly interred by Angels, and adjudged to obscurity, though not without some marks directing humane discovery. Enoch and Elias without either tomb or buriall, in an anoma∣lous state of being, are the great Ex∣amples of perpetuity, in their long and living memory, in strict account being still on this side death, and having a late part yet to act upon this staye of earth. If in the decretory term of the world we shall not all dye but be changed, according to received translation; the last day will make but few graves; at least quick Resurre∣ctions will anticipate lasting Sepultures; Some Graves will be opened before they be quite closed, and Lazarus be no wonder. When many that feared to dye shall groane that they can dye

but once, the dismall state is the second and living death, when life puts despair on the damned; when men shall wish the coverings of Mountaines, not of Monuments, and annihilation shall be courted.

While some have studied Monuments, others have studiously declined them: and some have been so vainly boiste∣rous, that they durst not acknowledge their Graves; wherein Alaricus seems most subtle, who had a River turned to hide his bones at the bottome. E∣ven Sylla that thought himself safe in his Urne, could not prevent revenging tongues, and stones thrown at his Mo∣nument. Happy are they whom pri∣vacy makes innocent, who deal so with men in this world, that they are not a∣fraid to meet them in the next, who when they dye, make no commotion among the dead, and are not toucht with that po∣eticall taunt of Isaiah c.

Pyramids, Arches, Obelisks, were but the irregularities of vain-glory, and wilde enormities of ancient magnanimity. But the most magnanimous resolution rests

in the Christian Religion, which tram∣pleth upon pride, and sets on the neck of ambition, humbly pursuing that infalli∣ble perpetuity, unto which all others must diminish their diameters, and be poorly seen in Angles of contingency d.

Pious spirits who passed their dayes in raptures of futurity, made little more of this world, then the world that was be∣fore it, while they lay obscure in the Chaos of pre-ordination, and night of their fore-beings. And if any have been so happy as truly to understand Christi∣an annihilation, extasis, exolution, lique∣faction, transformation, the kisse of the Spouse, gustation of God, and ingression into the divine shadow, they have alrea∣dy had an handsome anticipation of hea∣ven; the glory of the world is surely o∣ver, and the earth in ashes unto them.

To subsist in lasting Monuments, to live in their productions, to exist in their names, and praedicament of Chymera's, was large satisfaction unto old expectati∣ons, and made one part of their Elyzi∣ums. But all this is nothing in the Meta∣physicks of true belief. To live indeed

is to be again our selves, which being not only an hope but an evidence in noble beleevers; 'Tis all one to lye in S^t Inno∣cents e Church-yard, as in the Sands of Aegypt: Ready to be any thing, in the extasie of being ever, and as content with six foot as the Moles of Adri∣anus f.

Lucan

—Tabesne cadaverasolvats An rogus hand refert.—

Notes

• Tibul∣lus.
• a

  Oracula Chaldaica cum scholiis Pselii & ••h••••honis. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Vi corpus reli••quen∣tium animae purissimae.
• b

  In the Psalme of Moses.
• c

  Accord∣ing to the ancient A∣rithmetick of the hand wherein the little finger of the right hand con∣tracted, sig∣nified an hundred. Pierius in Hieroglyph.
• One night as long as three.
• The puz∣ling questi∣ons of Ti∣berius unto Gramma∣rians. Mar∣cel. Donatus in Suet. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Hom. Job.
• e

  That the world may last but fix thousand years.
• f

  Hectors fame last∣ing above two lives of Methuselah, before that famous Prince was extant.
• g

  ▪ The character of death.
• h

  Old ones being ta∣ken up, and other bo∣dies laid under them
• i

  Gruteri In∣scriptiones Antiquae.
• k

  Cuperem notum esse quod sim, non opto ut sciatur qua∣lis fim. Card. in vita propria.
• Omnia va∣nitas & pa∣stio venti, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ut olim Aquila & Symmachus. V. Drus. Eccles.
• Jornandes de rebus Ge∣ticis.
• c

  Isa. 14.
• d

  Angulus contingen∣tiae, the least of Angles.
• e

  In Paris where bo∣dies soon consume.
• f

  A stately Mausoleum or sepul∣chral pyle built by A∣drianus in Rome, where now standeth the Castle of S^t Angelo