to receive for betraying Christ; but as soon as those saints were gulled and cheated of all, and that the covenant began to be no better than a beggarly ceremony, his eyes were presently opened, and all his scruples vanished in a moment. He did his endeavour to keep out the king as long as he could possibly; but when there was no hopes left to prevail any longer, he made a virtue of necessity, and appeared among the foremost of those that were most earnest to bring him in; and, like Lipsius's dog, resolved to have his share in that which he was able to defend no longer. What he gained by serving against the king he laid out to purchase profitable employments in his service; for he is one that will neither obey nor rebel against him for nothing; and though he inclines naturally to the latter, yet he has so much of a saint left as to deny himself when he cannot have his will, and denounce against self-seeking until he is sure to find what he looks for. He pretends to be the only man in the world that brought in the king, which is in one sense very true; for if he had not driven him out first, it had been impossible ever to have brought him in. He endures his preferment patiently, (though he esteems it no better than a relapse,) merely for the profit he receives by it; and prevails with himself to be satisfied with that and the hopes of seeing better times, and then resolves to appear himself again, and let the world see he is no changeling: and therefore he rejoices in his heart at any miscarriages of state affairs, and endeavours to improve them to the uttermost, partly to vindicate his own former actions, and partly in hope to see the times come about again to him, as he did to them.

L

A MODERN STATESMAN

Owns his election from free grace, in opposition to merits or any foresight of good works; for he is chosen, not for his abilities or fitness for his employment, but, like a tales in a jury, for happening to be near in court. If there were any other consideration in it, (which is a hard question to the wise,) it was only because he was held able enough to be a counsellor extraordinary for the indifference and negligence of his understanding, and consequent probability of doing no hurt, if no good; for why should not such prove the safest physicians to the body politic, as well as they do to the natural? Or else some near friend, or friend's friend, helped him to the place, that engaged for his honesty and good behaviour in it. Howsoever, he is able to sit still, and look wise according to his best skill and cunning; and, though he understand no reason, serve for one that does; and be most steadfastly of that opinion that is most like to prevail. If he be a great person, he is chosen, as aldermen are in the city, for being rich enough, and fines to be taken in, as those do to be left out; and money being the measure of all things, it is sufficient to justify all his other talents, and render them, like itself, good and current. As for wisdom and judgment with those other out-of-fashioned qualifications, which have been so highly esteemed heretofore, they have not been found to be so useful in this age, since it has invented scantlings for politics, that will move with the strength of a child, and yet carry matters of very great weight; and that raillery and fooling is proved by frequent experiments to be the more easy and certain way. For as the Germans heretofore were observed to be wisest when they were drunk, and knew not how to dissemble; so are

our modern statesmen when they are mad, and use no reserved cunning in their consultations. And as the Church of Rome and that of the Turks esteem ignorant persons the most devout, there is no reason why this age, that seems to incline to the opinions of them both, should not as well believe them to be the most prudent and judicious; for heavenly wisdom does by the confession of men far exceed all the subtlety and prudence of this world. The heathen priests of old never delivered oracles but when they were drunk, and mad or distracted, and who knows why our modern oracles may not as well use the same method in all their proceedings. Howsoever, he is as ably qualified to govern as that sort of opinion that is said to govern all the world, and is perpetually false and foolish; and if his opinions are always so, they have the fairer title to their pretensions. He is sworn to advise no further than his skill and cunning will enable him, and the less he has of either, the sooner he despatches his business; and despatch is no mean virtue in a statesman.

THE SEDITIOUS MAN

Is a civil mutineer, and as all mutinies for the most part are for pay, if it were not for that he would never trouble himself with it. His business is to kindle and blow up discontents against the government, that when they are inflamed, he may have the fairer opportunity to rob and plunder, while those that are concerned are employed in quenching it. He endeavours to raise tumults, and, if he can, civil war, a remedy which no man that means well to his country can endure to think on, though the disease were never so desperate. He is a state mountebank, whose business is to

persuade the people that they are not well in health, that he may get their money to make them worse. If he be a preacher, he has the advantage of all others of his tribe, for he has a way to vent sedition by wholesale; and as the foulest purposes have most need of the fairest pretences, so when sedition is masked under the veil of piety, religion, conscience, and holy duty, it propagates wonderfully among the rabble, and he vents more in an hour from the pulpit than others by news and politics can do in a week. Next him writers and libellers are most pernicious; for though the contagion they disperse spreads slower and with less force than preaching, yet it lasts longer, and in time extends to more, and with less danger to the author, who is not easily discovered, if he use any care to conceal himself. And therefore as we see stinging flies vex and provoke cattle most immediately before storms, so multitudes of those kinds of vermin do always appear to stir up the people before the beginning of all troublesome times; and nobody knows who they are, or from whence they came, but only that they were printed the present year, that they may not lose the advantage of being known to be new. Some do it only out of humour and envy, or desire to see those that are above them pulled down, and others raised in their places; as if they held it a kind of freedom to change their governors, though they continue in the same. condition themselves still, only they are little better pleased with it, in observing the dangers greatness is exposed to. He delights in nothing so much as civil commotions, and, like a porpoise, always plays before a storm. Paper and tinder are both made of the same material—rags, but he converts them both into the same again, and makes his paper tinder.

A FACTIOUS MEMBER

Is sent out laden with the wisdom and politics of the place he serves for, and has his own freight and custom free. He is trusted, like a factor, to trade for a society, but endeavours to turn all the public to his own private advantages. He has no instructions but his pleasure, and therefore strives to have his privileges as large. He is very wise in his politic capacity, as having a full share in the house, and an implicit right to every man's reason, though he has none of his own, which makes him appear so simple out of it. He believes all reason of state consists in faction, as all wisdom in haranguing, of which he is so fond that he had rather the nation should perish than continue ignorant of his great abilities that way; though he that observes his gestures, words, and delivery, will find them so perfectly agreeable to the rules of the house, that he cannot but conclude he learnt his oratory the very same way that jackdaws and parrots practise by. For he coughs, and spits, and blows his nose with that discreet and prudent caution, that you would think he had buried his talent in a handkerchief, and were now pulling it out to dispose of it to a better advantage. He stands and presumes so much upon "the privileges of the house," as if every member were a tribune of the people, and had as absolute power as they had in Rome, according to the lately established fundamental custom and practice of their quartered predecessors of unhappy memory. He endeavours to shew his wisdom in nothing more than in appearing very much unsatisfied with the present management of state affairs, although he knows nothing of the reasons, so much the better; for the thing is the more difficult, and argues his judgment and insight the greater; for