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The Grecians knew this, when they judg'd the body
Of Ajax, who had flain himself, unworthy

The common rites of burial. Careful nature
Has fenc'd our hearts about with certain bones,
Fashion'd like fwords; and shall we break the guard ?
No, rather let us wait the will of th'heav'ns,
And when we hence are warn’d by their ord'hance,
Let us depart with glad and joyful hearts;
And think ourselves deliver'd from a gaol,
Eased of gyves and fetters; that we may
Remove unto our own eternal dwelling:
For, without doubt, that pow'r that gave us being,
Did not beget and foster us for this ;
That having suffer'd on this stage of life,
Thousand a Mictions, infinite calamities,
Quotidian toils, and all in virtue's cause ;
We should for guerdon, fall into the gulph
Of an eternal death, and non-subsistence :
Yea, rather let us cherish this belief,
That there's another heaven provided for us ;
A blessed refuge for our longing souls.
Arm'd with a settled confidence of this ;
Like Socrates, I will out-face my death,
And with the same fix'd spirit resign my breath.

Marcus Tullius Cicero.
- I cannot leave thee to
The danger of such cruel thoughts: Take heed
How you do threaten heav'n, by menacing
Yourself ; as we have no authority
To take away the being of another, whom
Our pride contemns ; so we have less, t'annihilate
Our own, when it is falln in our dislike.

Sir W. Davenant's Distresés. Self-murder, that infernal crime, Which all the gods level their thunder at ! Why, 'tis an act che gods admire, and envy, Because they cannot do't : And where's the wrong ? May I not mow my grass, reap my own corn,


Cut my own woods, lay down this load of life,
Without injustice or to gods, or men ?
Self-preservation, nature's highest law,
Is belt obey'd, when our sublimer part,
Tir'd out with troubles, and chain'd up with griefs,
Strives to shake off her fleshly manacles,
And fly to nobler dwellings.
Fine quirk to falve the conscience, to let others kill me!
Well, 'tis all one, as if I kill'd myself :
And that's no harm, since I'm no more myself:
The magistrate in me destroys the malefactor ;
And this form pleases best, a comelier shape
Of death.

Fane's Sacrifice.


N A T U R E.
ACH thing by nature tendeth to the fame

Whereof it came; and is dispos’d alike :
Down finks the mold; up mounts the fiery flame ;

With horn the hart, with hoof the horse doth strike ;

The wolf doth spoil, the fubtle fox doth pike ; And to conclude, no filh, flesh, fowl, or plant, Of their true dame, the property doth want.

Phaer in the Mirror for Magiftrates.

Oh noble strain! worthiness of nature, breed of greatness ! Cowards father cowards, and base things fire the base : Nature hath meal and bran ; contempt and grace.


Cymbeline. For nature, crescent, does not grow alone In thews and bulk; but, as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal.

Shakespear's Hamlet


Nature is motion's mother,
The spring whence order flows ; that all directs,
And knits the causes with th'effects.

Fobnson's Masques.

-What nature lent Is still in hers, and not our government,

Lord Brooke's Alaham. For it follows well, That nature, fince herself decay doth hate ; Should favour those that strengthen their estate.

Tourneur's Atheist's Tragedy Nature hath made nothing so base, but can Read some instruction to the wiseft man.

Aleyn's Crescey: Nature is impartial, And in her work of man, prefers not names Of ancestors ; she sometimes forms a piece For admiration from the baseft earth, That holds a foul ; and to a beggar's issue Gives those perfections inake a beauty up; When purer moulds, polith'd and glofs'à with titles, Honours and wealth, bestow upon

their bloods Deform'd impressions ; objects only fit For sport or pity.

Nabbs's Tottenham-Court, Nor let us say some things 'gainst nature be, Because fuch things as those we seldom see: We know not what is natural; but call Those acts, which God does often, natural ; Where, if we weigh'd with a religious eye The pow'r of doing, not the frequency ; All things alike in itrangeness to our thought Would be, which he in the creation wrought: But in those rare and wond'rous things, may we The freedom of that great creator see ; When he at first the course of things ordain'd, And nature within certain bounds restrain'd, That laws of seeds and seasons may be known, He did not then at all confine his own

Almighty pow'r ; but whensoe'er he will,
Works 'gainst the common course of nature still ;
Those works may we view with a wond'ring eye,
And take delight in that variety.

May's Henry II.
There nature wanton was, and the high way
Did seem inclosed, though it open lay

Baron. Heav'n study more in nature, than in schools ; Let nature's image never by thee pass Like unmark'd time ; but those unthinking fools Despise, who spy not Godhead through her glass.

Sir W. Davenant's

Gondibert. 'Tis the first sanction nature gave to man, Each other to affist in what they can ; Just or unjust, this law for ever stands ; All things are good by law, which she commands.

Dinham, Nature is so kind As to exceed man's use, though not his mind.

Prologue to Sir R. Howard's Indian Queen. Nature's an occan endlesly profound, Where line could never yet discover ground : We only see what on the surface swim, And what we often see, we ne'er esteem : If one by chance a monfter brings to fhore ; The monster we admire, the fisher more. Crown's Second Part of the Defruction of Jerufalem.

N A V IGATION. Wise nature from this face of ground,

Into the deep taught man to find the way ; That in the floods her treasure might be found,

To make him search for evhat she there did lay :
And that her secrets he might throughly sound,

She gave him courage, as her only key;
That of all creatures, as the worthiest he,
Her glory there, and wond'rous works should see.

Drayton's Barons Wars.


By armies, stow'd in fleets, exhaufted Spain
Leaves half her land unplough'd, to plough the main ;
And still would more of the old world subdue,
As if unsatisfy'd with aļl the new.

Sir W. Davenant's Siege of Rhodes. For this effectual day, his art reveald

What has so oft made nature's spies to pine, The loadstone's mystick use, so long conceald

In close alliance with the coarfer mine. And this, in sleepy vision, he was bid

To register in characters unknown ; Which heav'n will have from navigators hid,

Till Saturn's walk be twenty circuits grown. For as religion, in the warm east bred,

And arts, which next to it most needful were, From vices sprung from their corruption fled ;

And thence vouchsaf'd a cold piantation here : So when they here again corrupted be,

For man can ev'n his antidotes infect, Heav'n's reserv'd world they in the west shall see ;

To which this stone's hid virtue will direct. Religion then, whose age this world upbraids,

As scorn'd deformity, will thither iteer ; Serv'd at fit distance by the arts, her maids;

Which grow too bold, when they attend too near. And some, whom traffick thither tempts, shall thence

In her exchange, though they did grudge her shrines, And poorly baniih'd her to save expence,

Bring home the idol, gold, from new-found mines. Till then, fad pilots must be often loft,

Whilst from the ocean's-dreaded face they shrink; And seeking safety near the coz’ning coatt,

With winds surpriz’d, by rocky ambulh fink.



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