thereupon the man whom I before described stood up, and with a loud voice in Spanish, asked, "Are ye Christians?" We answered, “We were"; fearing the less, because of the cross we had seen in the superscription. At which answer the said person lifted up his right hand towards heaven, and drew it softly to his mouth (which is the gesture they use when they thank God), and then said: "If ye will swear (all of you) by the merits of the Saviour that ye are no pirates, nor have shed blood lawfully nor unlawfully within forty days past, you may have licence to come on land." We said, "We were all ready to take that oath." Whereupon one of those that were with him, being (as it seemed) a notary, made an entry of this act. Which done, another of the attendants of the great person, which was with him in the same boat, after his lord had spoken a little to him, said aloud; “My lord would have you know, that it is not of pride or greatness that he cometh not aboard your ship; but for that in your answer you declare that you have many sick amongst you, he was warned by the Conservator of Health of the city that he should keep a distance." We bowed ourselves towards him, and answered, "We were his humble servants; and accounted for great honour and singular humanity towards us that which was already done; but hoped well that the nature of the sickness of our men was not infectious." So he returned; and a while after came the notary to us aboard our ship; holding in his hand a fruit of that country, like an orange, but of colour between orange-tawney and scarlet, which cast a most excellent odour. He used it (as it seemeth) for a preservative against infection. He gave us our oath; "By the name of Jesus and his merits ;" and after told us that the next day by six of the clock in the morning we should be sent to, and brought to the Strangers' House (so he called it), where we should be accommodated of things both for our whole and for our sick. So he left us; and when we offered him some pistolets, he smiling said, not be twice paid for one labour;" meaning (as I take it) that he had salary sufficient of the state for his service. For (as I after learned) they call an officer that taketh rewards, twice paid. (From the New Atlantis.)

"He must

ON THE TRANSMISSION OF IMMATERIATE

VIRTUES

IT is mentioned in some stories that where children have been exposed, or taken away young from their parents, and that afterwards they have approached to their parents' presence, the parents (although they have not known them) have had a secret joy or other alteration thereupon.

There was an Egyptian soothsayer, that made Antonius believe that his genius (which otherwise was brave and confident) was, in the presence of Octavianus Cæsar, poor and cowardly: and therefore he advised him to absent himself as much as he could, and remove far from him. This soothsayer was thought to be suborned by Cleopatra to make him live in Egypt, and other remote places from Rome. Howsoever the conceit of a predominant or mastering spirit of one man over another is ancient, and received still, even in vulgar opinion.

There are conceits that some men, that are of an ill and melancholy nature, do incline the company into which they come to be sad and ill-disposed; and contrariwise, that others, that are of a jovial nature, do dispose the company to be merry and cheerful. And again, that some men are lucky to be kept company with and employed; and others unlucky. Certainly it is agreeable to reason, that there are at the least some light effluxions from spirit to spirit, when men are in presence one with another, as well as from body to body.

It hath been observed that old men who have loved young company and been conversant continually with them, have been of long life; their spirits (as it seemeth) being recreated by such company. Such were the ancient sophists and rhetoricians; which ever had young auditors and disciples; as Gorgias, Protagoras, Isocrates, etc., who lived till they were an hundred years old. And so likewise did many of the grammarians and schoolmasters; such as was Orbilius, etc.

Audacity and confidence doth, in civil business, so great effects, as a man may reasonably doubt that, besides the very daring and earnestness and persisting and importunity, there should be some secret binding and stooping of other men's spirits to such persons.

The affections (no doubt) do make the spirits more powerful and active; and especially those affections which draw the spirits

into the eyes which are two love, and envy, which is called oculus malus. As for love, the Platonists (some of them) go so far as to hold that the spirit of the lover doth pass into the spirits of the person loved; which causeth the desire of return into the body whence it was emitted: whereupon followeth that appetite of contact and conjunction which is in lovers. And this is observed likewise, that the aspects that procure love, are not gazings, but sudden glances and dartings of the eye. As for envy, that emitteth some malign and poisonous spirit, which taketh hold of the spirit of another; and is likewise of greatest force when the cast of the eye is oblique. It hath been noted also that it is most dangerous when an envious eye is cast upon persons in glory and triumph and joy: the reason whereof is, for that at such times the spirits come forth most into the outward parts, and so meet the percussion of the envious eye more at hand; and therefore it hath been noted, that after great triumphs, men have been ill-disposed for some days following. We see the opinion of fascination is ancient, for both effects of procuring love, and sickness caused by envy and fascination is ever by the eye. But yet if there be any such infection from spirit to spirit, there is no doubt but that it worketh by presence, and not by the eye alone; yet most forcibly by the eye.

Fear and shame are likewise infective; for we see that the starting of one will make another ready to start: and when one man is out of countenance in a company, others do likewise blush in his behalf.

Now we will speak of the force of imagination upon other bodies, and of the means to exalt and strengthen it. Imagination in this place I understand to be the representation of an individual thought. Imagination is of three kinds: the first joined with belief of that which is to come: the second joined with memory of that which is past and the third is of things present, or as if they were present: for I comprehend in this, imaginations feigned and at pleasure; as if one should imagine such a man to be in the vestments of a pope, or to have wings. I single out, for this time, that which is with faith or belief of that which is to come. The inquisition of this subject in our way (which is by induction) is wonderful hard: for the things that are reported are full of fables; and new experiments can hardly be made but with extreme caution, for the reason which we will hereafter declare.

The power of imagination is in three kinds: the first upon the

body of the imaginant, including likewise the child in the mother's womb; the second is, the power of it upon dead bodies, as plants, wood, stone, metal, etc.; the third is, the power of it upon the spirits of men and living creatures: and with this last we will only meddle.

The problem therefore is, whether a man constantly and strongly believing that such a thing shall be (as that such an one will love him, or that such an one will grant him his request, or that such an one shall recover a sickness, or the like), it doth help any thing to the effecting of the thing itself. And here again we must warily distinguish; for it is not meant (as hath been partly said before) that it should help by making a man more stout, or more industrious (in which kind constant belief doth much); but merely by a secret operation, or binding, or changing the spirit of another and in this it is hard (as we began to say) to make any new experiment; for I cannot command myself to believe what I will, and so no trial can be made. Nay, it is worse; for whatsoever a man imagineth doubtingly, or with fear, must needs do hurt, if imagination have any power at all; for a man representeth that oftener that he feareth, than the contrary.

The help therefore is, for a man to work by another in whom he may create belief, and not by himself until himself have found by experience, that imagination doth prevail; for then experience worketh in himself belief; if the belief that such a thing shall be, be joined with a belief that his imagination may procure it.

(From the Sylva Sylvarum.)

HAYWARD

[John Hayward (1564-1627) was born at Felixstowe and educated at Pembroke College, Cambridge. In 1599 he wrote a History of the First Year of Henry IV., and, through the fulsome flattery which he addressed to Essex in the dedication, he brought himself, as it would appear, unintentionally, under the displeasure of Queen Elizabeth, and was imprisoned on suspicion of sympathy with the designs of Essex. After the accession of James I. he was patronised by the court, practised with profit as a lawyer, and was knighted in 1619. He wrote on the Succession to the Crown, as a defender of divine right, and was involved in a controversy thereon with Parsons the Jesuit, who wrote under the name of R. Dolman. Encouraged by Prince Henry he wrote lives of William I., William II., and Henry I.; and his works comprise a History of the Reign of Edward VI., and one of the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth, which was not printed till 1840. He also wrote many forgotten works on religious topics.]

ALTHOUGH Hayward holds no high place even amongst the historians of his own age, there is much that is characteristic about him, and he marks a distinct phase of literary style. Anthony Wood thought his historical work good, but too "dramatic”—that is to say, in modern language, too much coloured for the sake of effect, and written with too little regard to strict historical accuracy. A certain interest attaches to him as the colleague of Camden in Chelsea College, founded by James I. ; but there is no such permanent value in his work as there is in that of his colleague. Hayward makes much show of learning. He adduces proofs and illustrations from a very wide range of subjects, but he has no idea whatever of historical proportion; he drags in his authorities with no thought of their appositeness, and he has no conception whatever of criticism. But in spite of this his history marks a distinct step forward in the historical style. He sets before himself clearly the aim of rising out of the track of the older annalists, and of giving some literary finish to history. He has recounted a conversation between himself and Prince