Chapter: CHAPTER VIII. OF THE VERTUES COMMONLY CALLED INTELLECTUAL; AND THEIR CONTRARY DEFECTS






Intellectuall Vertue Defined

Vertue generally, in all sorts of subjects, is somewhat that is valued
for eminence; and consisteth in comparison. For if all things
were equally in all men, nothing would be prized. And by Vertues
INTELLECTUALL, are always understood such abilityes of the mind, as men
praise, value, and desire should be in themselves; and go commonly under
the name of a Good Witte; though the same word Witte, be used also, to
distinguish one certain ability from the rest.




Wit, Naturall, Or Acquired

These Vertues are of two sorts; Naturall, and Acquired. By Naturall, I
mean not, that which a man hath from his Birth: for that is nothing else
but Sense; wherein men differ so little one from another, and from brute
Beasts, as it is not to be reckoned amongst Vertues. But I mean, that
Witte, which is gotten by Use onely, and Experience; without Method,
Culture, or Instruction. This NATURALL WITTE, consisteth principally
in two things; Celerity Of Imagining, (that is, swift succession of one
thought to another;) and Steddy Direction to some approved end. On the
Contrary a slow Imagination, maketh that Defect, or fault of the mind,
which is commonly called DULNESSE, Stupidity, and sometimes by other
names that signifie slownesse of motion, or difficulty to be moved.




Good Wit, Or Fancy; Good Judgement; Discretion

And this difference of quicknesse, is caused by the difference of mens
passions; that love and dislike, some one thing, some another: and
therefore some mens thoughts run one way, some another: and are held to,
and observe differently the things that passe through their imagination.
And whereas in his succession of mens thoughts, there is nothing to
observe in the things they think on, but either in what they be Like One
Another, or in what they be Unlike, or What They Serve For, or How They
Serve To Such A Purpose; Those that observe their similitudes, in case
they be such as are but rarely observed by others, are sayd to have a
Good Wit; by which, in this occasion, is meant a Good Fancy. But they
that observe their differences, and dissimilitudes; which is called
Distinguishing, and Discerning, and Judging between thing and thing; in
case, such discerning be not easie, are said to have a Good Judgement:
and particularly in matter of conversation and businesse; wherein,
times, places, and persons are to be discerned, this Vertue is called
DISCRETION. The former, that is, Fancy, without the help of Judgement,
is not commended as a Vertue: but the later which is Judgement, and
Discretion, is commended for it selfe, without the help of Fancy.
Besides the Discretion of times, places, and persons, necessary to a
good Fancy, there is required also an often application of his thoughts
to their End; that is to say, to some use to be made of them. This done;
he that hath this Vertue, will be easily fitted with similitudes, that
will please, not onely by illustration of his discourse, and adorning it
with new and apt metaphors; but also, by the rarity or their invention.
But without Steddinesse, and Direction to some End, a great Fancy is one
kind of Madnesse; such as they have, that entring into any discourse,
are snatched from their purpose, by every thing that comes in their
thought, into so many, and so long digressions, and parentheses, that
they utterly lose themselves: Which kind of folly, I know no particular
name for: but the cause of it is, sometimes want of experience; whereby
that seemeth to a man new and rare, which doth not so to others:
sometimes Pusillanimity; by which that seems great to him, which other
men think a trifle: and whatsoever is new, or great, and therefore
thought fit to be told, withdrawes a man by degrees from the intended
way of his discourse.

In a good Poem, whether it be Epique, or Dramatique; as also in Sonnets,
Epigrams, and other Pieces, both Judgement and Fancy are required:
But the Fancy must be more eminent; because they please for the
Extravagancy; but ought not to displease by Indiscretion.

In a good History, the Judgement must be eminent; because the goodnesse
consisteth, in the Method, in the Truth, and in the Choyse of the
actions that are most profitable to be known. Fancy has no place, but
onely in adorning the stile.

In Orations of Prayse, and in Invectives, the Fancy is praedominant;
because the designe is not truth, but to Honour or Dishonour; which is
done by noble, or by vile comparisons. The Judgement does but suggest
what circumstances make an action laudable, or culpable.

In Hortatives, and Pleadings, as Truth, or Disguise serveth best to the
Designe in hand; so is the Judgement, or the Fancy most required.

In Demonstration, in Councell, and all rigourous search of Truth,
Judgement does all; except sometimes the understanding have need to be
opened by some apt similitude; and then there is so much use of Fancy.
But for Metaphors, they are in this case utterly excluded. For seeing
they openly professe deceipt; to admit them into Councell, or Reasoning,
were manifest folly.

And in any Discourse whatsoever, if the defect of Discretion be
apparent, how extravagant soever the Fancy be, the whole discourse
will be taken for a signe of want of wit; and so will it never when the
Discretion is manifest, though the Fancy be never so ordinary.

The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, prophane,
clean, obscene, grave, and light, without shame, or blame; which verball
discourse cannot do, farther than the Judgement shall approve of the
Time, Place, and Persons. An Anatomist, or a Physitian may speak, or
write his judgement of unclean things; because it is not to please,
but profit: but for another man to write his extravagant, and pleasant
fancies of the same, is as if a man, from being tumbled into the dirt,
should come and present himselfe before good company. And 'tis the want
of Discretion that makes the difference. Again, in profest remissnesse
of mind, and familiar company, a man may play with the sounds, and
aequivocal significations of words; and that many times with encounters
of extraordinary Fancy: but in a Sermon, or in publique, or before
persons unknown, or whom we ought to reverence, there is no Gingling of
words that will not be accounted folly: and the difference is onely in
the want of Discretion. So that where Wit is wanting, it is not Fancy
that is wanting, but Discretion. Judgement therefore without Fancy is
Wit, but Fancy without Judgement not.




Prudence

When the thoughts of a man, that has a designe in hand, running over a
multitude of things, observes how they conduce to that designe; or what
designe they may conduce into; if his observations be such as are not
easie, or usuall, This wit of his is called PRUDENCE; and dependeth on
much Experience, and Memory of the like things, and their consequences
heretofore. In which there is not so much difference of Men, as there is
in their Fancies and Judgements; Because the Experience of men equall
in age, is not much unequall, as to the quantity; but lyes in different
occasions; every one having his private designes. To govern well a
family, and a kingdome, are not different degrees of Prudence; but
different sorts of businesse; no more then to draw a picture in little,
or as great, or greater then the life, are different degrees of Art. A
plain husband-man is more Prudent in affaires of his own house, then a
Privy Counseller in the affaires of another man.




Craft

To Prudence, if you adde the use of unjust, or dishonest means, such
as usually are prompted to men by Feare, or Want; you have that Crooked
Wisdome, which is called CRAFT; which is a signe of Pusillanimity. For
Magnanimity is contempt of unjust, or dishonest helps. And that which
the Latines Call Versutia, (translated into English, Shifting,) and is
a putting off of a present danger or incommodity, by engaging into
a greater, as when a man robbs one to pay another, is but a shorter
sighted Craft, called Versutia, from Versura, which signifies taking
mony at usurie, for the present payment of interest.




Acquired Wit

As for Acquired Wit, (I mean acquired by method and instruction,) there
is none but Reason; which is grounded on the right use of Speech; and
produceth the Sciences. But of Reason and Science, I have already spoken
in the fifth and sixth Chapters.

The causes of this difference of Witts, are in the Passions: and
the difference of Passions, proceedeth partly from the different
Constitution of the body, and partly from different Education. For if
the difference proceeded from the temper of the brain, and the organs of
Sense, either exterior or interior, there would be no lesse difference
of men in their Sight, Hearing, or other Senses, than in their Fancies,
and Discretions. It proceeds therefore from the Passions; which are
different, not onely from the difference of mens complexions; but also
from their difference of customes, and education.

The Passions that most of all cause the differences of Wit, are
principally, the more or lesse Desire of Power, of Riches, of Knowledge,
and of Honour. All which may be reduced to the first, that is Desire of
Power. For Riches, Knowledge and Honour are but severall sorts of Power.




Giddinesse Madnesse

And therefore, a man who has no great Passion for any of these things;
but is as men terme it indifferent; though he may be so farre a good
man, as to be free from giving offence; yet he cannot possibly have
either a great Fancy, or much Judgement. For the Thoughts, are to the
Desires, as Scouts, and Spies, to range abroad, and find the way to the
things Desired: All Stedinesse of the minds motion, and all quicknesse
of the same, proceeding from thence. For as to have no Desire, is to
be Dead: so to have weak Passions, is Dulnesse; and to have Passions
indifferently for every thing, GIDDINESSE, and Distraction; and to have
stronger, and more vehement Passions for any thing, than is ordinarily
seen in others, is that which men call MADNESSE.

Whereof there be almost as many kinds, as of the Passions themselves.
Sometimes the extraordinary and extravagant Passion, proceedeth from the
evill constitution of the organs of the Body, or harme done them; and
sometimes the hurt, and indisposition of the Organs, is caused by the
vehemence, or long continuance of the Passion. But in both cases the
Madnesse is of one and the same nature.

The Passion, whose violence, or continuance maketh Madnesse, is either
great Vaine-Glory; which is commonly called Pride, and Selfe-Conceipt;
or great Dejection of mind.




Rage

Pride, subjecteth a man to Anger, the excesse whereof, is the Madnesse
called RAGE, and FURY. And thus it comes to passe that excessive desire
of Revenge, when it becomes habituall, hurteth the organs, and becomes
Rage: That excessive love, with jealousie, becomes also Rage: Excessive
opinion of a mans own selfe, for divine inspiration, for wisdome,
learning, forme, and the like, becomes Distraction, and Giddinesse:
the same, joyned with Envy, Rage: Vehement opinion of the truth of any
thing, contradicted by others, Rage.




Melancholy

Dejection, subjects a man to causelesse fears; which is a Madnesse
commonly called MELANCHOLY, apparent also in divers manners; as in
haunting of solitudes, and graves; in superstitious behaviour; and in
fearing some one, some another particular thing. In summe, all Passions
that produce strange and unusuall behaviour, are called by the generall
name of Madnesse. But of the severall kinds of Madnesse, he that
would take the paines, might enrowle a legion. And if the Excesses be
madnesse, there is no doubt but the Passions themselves, when they tend
to Evill, are degrees of the same.

(For example,) Though the effect of folly, in them that are possessed of
an opinion of being inspired, be not visible alwayes in one man, by any
very extravagant action, that proceedeth from such Passion; yet when
many of them conspire together, the Rage of the whole multitude is
visible enough. For what argument of Madnesse can there be greater, than
to clamour, strike, and throw stones at our best friends? Yet this is
somewhat lesse than such a multitude will do. For they will clamour,
fight against, and destroy those, by whom all their lifetime before,
they have been protected, and secured from injury. And if this be
Madnesse in the multitude, it is the same in every particular man. For
as in the middest of the sea, though a man perceive no sound of
that part of the water next him; yet he is well assured, that part
contributes as much, to the Roaring of the Sea, as any other part, of
the same quantity: so also, thought wee perceive no great unquietnesse,
in one, or two men; yet we may be well assured, that their singular
Passions, are parts of the Seditious roaring of a troubled Nation. And
if there were nothing else that bewrayed their madnesse; yet that very
arrogating such inspiration to themselves, is argument enough. If some
man in Bedlam should entertaine you with sober discourse; and you desire
in taking leave, to know what he were, that you might another time
requite his civility; and he should tell you, he were God the Father;
I think you need expect no extravagant action for argument of his
Madnesse.

This opinion of Inspiration, called commonly, Private Spirit, begins
very often, from some lucky finding of an Errour generally held by
others; and not knowing, or not remembring, by what conduct of reason,
they came to so singular a truth, (as they think it, though it be many
times an untruth they light on,) they presently admire themselves; as
being in the speciall grace of God Almighty, who hath revealed the same
to them supernaturally, by his Spirit.

Again, that Madnesse is nothing else, but too much appearing Passion,
may be gathered out of the effects of Wine, which are the same with
those of the evill disposition of the organs. For the variety of
behaviour in men that have drunk too much, is the same with that of
Mad-men: some of them Raging, others Loving, others laughing, all
extravagantly, but according to their severall domineering Passions:
For the effect of the wine, does but remove Dissimulation; and take from
them the sight of the deformity of their Passions. For, (I believe) the
most sober men, when they walk alone without care and employment of the
mind, would be unwilling the vanity and Extravagance of their thoughts
at that time should be publiquely seen: which is a confession, that
Passions unguided, are for the most part meere Madnesse.

The opinions of the world, both in antient and later ages, concerning
the cause of madnesse, have been two. Some, deriving them from the
Passions; some, from Daemons, or Spirits, either good, or bad, which
they thought might enter into a man, possesse him, and move his organs
is such strange, and uncouth manner, as mad-men use to do. The former
sort therefore, called such men, Mad-men: but the Later, called them
sometimes Daemoniacks, (that is, possessed with spirits;) sometimes
Energumeni, (that is agitated, or moved with spirits;) and now in
Italy they are called not onely Pazzi, Mad-men; but also Spiritati, men
possest.

There was once a great conflux of people in Abdera, a City of the
Greeks, at the acting of the Tragedy of Andromeda, upon an extream hot
day: whereupon, a great many of the spectators falling into Fevers, had
this accident from the heat, and from The Tragedy together, that they
did nothing but pronounce Iambiques, with the names of Perseus and
Andromeda; which together with the Fever, was cured, by the comming on
of Winter: And this madnesse was thought to proceed from the Passion
imprinted by the Tragedy. Likewise there raigned a fit of madnesse in
another Graecian city, which seized onely the young Maidens; and caused
many of them to hang themselves. This was by most then thought an act of
the Divel. But one that suspected, that contempt of life in them,
might proceed from some Passion of the mind, and supposing they did not
contemne also their honour, gave counsell to the Magistrates, to strip
such as so hang'd themselves, and let them hang out naked. This the
story sayes cured that madnesse. But on the other side, the same
Graecians, did often ascribe madnesse, to the operation of the
Eumenides, or Furyes; and sometimes of Ceres, Phoebus, and other Gods:
so much did men attribute to Phantasmes, as to think them aereal living
bodies; and generally to call them Spirits. And as the Romans in this,
held the same opinion with the Greeks: so also did the Jewes; For they
calle mad-men Prophets, or (according as they thought the spirits
good or bad) Daemoniacks; and some of them called both Prophets, and
Daemoniacks, mad-men; and some called the same man both Daemoniack, and
mad-man. But for the Gentiles, 'tis no wonder; because Diseases, and
Health; Vices, and Vertues; and many naturall accidents, were with them
termed, and worshipped as Daemons. So that a man was to understand by
Daemon, as well (sometimes) an Ague, as a Divell. But for the Jewes to
have such opinion, is somewhat strange. For neither Moses, nor Abraham
pretended to Prophecy by possession of a Spirit; but from the voyce of
God; or by a Vision or Dream: Nor is there any thing in his Law,
Morall, or Ceremoniall, by which they were taught, there was any such
Enthusiasme; or any Possession. When God is sayd, (Numb. 11. 25.) to
take from the Spirit that was in Moses, and give it to the 70. Elders,
the Spirit of God (taking it for the substance of God) is not divided.
The Scriptures by the Spirit of God in man, mean a mans spirit, enclined
to Godlinesse. And where it is said (Exod. 28. 3.) "Whom I have filled
with the Spirit of wisdome to make garments for Aaron," is not meant a
spirit put into them, that can make garments; but the wisdome of their
own spirits in that kind of work. In the like sense, the spirit of
man, when it produceth unclean actions, is ordinarily called an unclean
spirit; and so other spirits, though not alwayes, yet as often as the
vertue or vice so stiled, is extraordinary, and Eminent. Neither did the
other Prophets of the old Testament pretend Enthusiasme; or, that God
spake in them; but to them by Voyce, Vision, or Dream; and the Burthen
Of The Lord was not Possession, but Command. How then could the Jewes
fall into this opinion of possession? I can imagine no reason, but that
which is common to all men; namely, the want of curiosity to search
naturall causes; and their placing Felicity, in the acquisition of the
grosse pleasures of the Senses, and the things that most immediately
conduce thereto. For they that see any strange, and unusuall ability, or
defect in a mans mind; unlesse they see withall, from what cause it may
probably proceed, can hardly think it naturall; and if not naturall,
they must needs thinke it supernaturall; and then what can it be, but
that either God, or the Divell is in him? And hence it came to passe,
when our Saviour (Mark 3.21.) was compassed about with the multitude,
those of the house doubted he was mad, and went out to hold him: but
the Scribes said he had Belzebub, and that was it, by which he cast out
divels; as if the greater mad-man had awed the lesser. And that (John
10. 20.) some said, "He hath a Divell, and is mad;" whereas others
holding him for a Prophet, sayd, "These are not the words of one that
hath a Divell." So in the old Testament he that came to anoynt Jehu, (2
Kings 9.11.) was a Prophet; but some of the company asked Jehu, "What
came that mad-man for?" So that in summe, it is manifest, that whosoever
behaved himselfe in extraordinary manner, was thought by the Jewes to be
possessed either with a good, or evill spirit; except by the Sadduces,
who erred so farre on the other hand, as not to believe there were at
all any spirits, (which is very neere to direct Atheisme;) and thereby
perhaps the more provoked others, to terme such men Daemoniacks, rather
than mad-men.

But why then does our Saviour proceed in the curing of them, as if they
were possest; and not as if they were mad. To which I can give no other
kind of answer, but that which is given to those that urge the Scripture
in like manner against the opinion of the motion of the Earth. The
Scripture was written to shew unto men the kingdome of God; and to
prepare their mindes to become his obedient subjects; leaving the
world, and the Philosophy thereof, to the disputation of men, for the
exercising of their naturall Reason. Whether the Earths, or Suns motion
make the day, and night; or whether the Exorbitant actions of men,
proceed from Passion, or from the Divell, (so we worship him not) it is
all one, as to our obedience, and subjection to God Almighty; which is
the thing for which the Scripture was written. As for that our Saviour
speaketh to the disease, as to a person; it is the usuall phrase of all
that cure by words onely, as Christ did, (and Inchanters pretend to
do, whether they speak to a Divel or not.) For is not Christ also said
(Math. 8.26.) to have rebuked the winds? Is not he said also (Luk. 4.
39.) to rebuke a Fever? Yet this does not argue that a Fever is a Divel.
And whereas many of these Divels are said to confesse Christ; it is not
necessary to interpret those places otherwise, than that those mad-men
confessed him. And whereas our Saviour (Math. 12. 43.) speaketh of an
unclean Spirit, that having gone out of a man, wandreth through dry
places, seeking rest, and finding none; and returning into the same
man, with seven other spirits worse than himselfe; It is manifestly a
Parable, alluding to a man, that after a little endeavour to quit his
lusts, is vanquished by the strength of them; and becomes seven times
worse than he was. So that I see nothing at all in the Scripture, that
requireth a beliefe, that Daemoniacks were any other thing but Mad-men.




Insignificant Speech

There is yet another fault in the Discourses of some men; which may also
be numbred amongst the sorts of Madnesse; namely, that abuse of words,
whereof I have spoken before in the fifth chapter, by the Name of
Absurdity. And that is, when men speak such words, as put together, have
in them no signification at all; but are fallen upon by some, through
misunderstanding of the words they have received, and repeat by rote; by
others, from intention to deceive by obscurity. And this is incident to
none but those, that converse in questions of matters incomprehensible,
as the Schoole-men; or in questions of abstruse Philosophy. The common
sort of men seldome speak Insignificantly, and are therefore, by those
other Egregious persons counted Idiots. But to be assured their words
are without any thing correspondent to them in the mind, there would
need some Examples; which if any man require, let him take a Schoole-man
into his hands, and see if he can translate any one chapter concerning
any difficult point; as the Trinity; the Deity; the nature of Christ;
Transubstantiation; Free-will. &c. into any of the moderne tongues, so
as to make the same intelligible; or into any tolerable Latine, such
as they were acquainted withall, that lived when the Latine tongue was
Vulgar. What is the meaning of these words. "The first cause does not
necessarily inflow any thing into the second, by force of the Essential
subordination of the second causes, by which it may help it to worke?"
They are the Translation of the Title of the sixth chapter of Suarez
first Booke, Of The Concourse, Motion, And Help Of God. When men write
whole volumes of such stuffe, are they not Mad, or intend to make others
so? And particularly, in the question of Transubstantiation; where
after certain words spoken, they that say, the White-nesse, Round-nesse,
Magni-tude, Quali-ty, Corruptibili-ty, all which are incorporeall, &c.
go out of the Wafer, into the Body of our blessed Saviour, do they not
make those Nesses, Tudes and Ties, to be so many spirits possessing his
body? For by Spirits, they mean alwayes things, that being incorporeall,
are neverthelesse moveable from one place to another. So that this kind
of Absurdity, may rightly be numbred amongst the many sorts of Madnesse;
and all the time that guided by clear Thoughts of their worldly lust,
they forbear disputing, or writing thus, but Lucide Intervals. And thus
much of the Vertues and Defects Intellectuall.

 Deryn is adrift in the storm, and she knows the flickers of lightning in the distance are no good--because the Huxley breathes hydrogen, which holds it aloft, it can go up in flames like that. As Deryn drifts over London, she distracts herself by thinking of what London was like before Darwin discovered how to create fabricated beasts. Deryn realizes that she has no idea how to get down in a Huxley, which is supposed to be attached to ground lines all the time. She recalls how much she loved ballooning with her Da before his death two years before. As they drift toward the English Channel, Deryn and the Huxley both notice a thrumming sound. Then Deryn catches her first glimpse of a massive airbeast: a whaleesque that looks somewhat like a zeppelin--and when Deryn sees Leviathan written along the side of the gondola suspended from the whaleesque, she realizes it's the famous airship. Deryn sees many other creatures swarming about the whale and recalls that huge hydrogen breathers like the Leviathan are designed to be entire ecosystems, much like those South American islands where Darwin did much of his work. The Leviathan lets down a rope, which Deryn eventually manages to catch. A message lizard climbs to her along the rope to tell her they're there to rescue her. Deryn sends a reply back with the lizard--coolest walkie-talkies ever--and the Leviathan manages to bring her in. The officer who greets Deryn compliments her work with the Huxley and tells her the British Air Service will need all the good men it can get what with the trouble on the Continent over an Austrian duke and duchess. He tells her that she'll be staying aboard for a few days since they're on high alert. Nothing could make Deryn happier than a little bit longer in the air, so everything's turning up roses for now.

