EXTRACTS FROM AN ESSAY ON AGRICULTURE, BY A. COWLEY. There is no other sort of life that affords so many branches of praise to a panegyrist the utility of it to a man's self: the usefulness or rather necessity of it to all the rest of mankind: the innocence, the pleasure, the antiquity, the dignity. The utility (I mean plainly the lucre of it) is not so great now in our nation as arises from merchandise and the trading of the city, from whence many of the best estates and chief honors of the kingdom are derived: we have no men now fetched from the plow to be made lords, as they were in Rome to be made consuls and dictators, the reason of which I conceive to be from an evil custom, now grown as strong among us as if it were a law, which is, that no men put their children to be bred up apprentices in agriculture, as in other trades, but such who are so poor, that when they come to be men, they have not wherewithal to set up in it, and so can only farm some small parcel of ground, the rent of which devours all but the bare subsistence of the tenant: whilst they who are proprietors of the land, are either too proud, or for want of that kind of education, too ignorant to improve their estates, though the means of doing it be as easy and certain in this as in any other track of commerce. If there were always two or three thousand youths for seven or eight years bound to this profession, that they might learn the whole art of it, and afterwards be enabled to be masters in it, by a moderate stock, I can not doubt but that we should see as many aldermen's estates made in the country, as now we do out of all kind of merchandising in the city. There are as many ways to be rich, and which is better, there is no possibility to be poor, without such negligence as can neither have excuse nor pity; for a little ground will without question feed a little family, and the superfluities of life (which are now in some cases by custom made almost necessary) must be supplied out of the superabundance of art and industry, or contemned by as great a degree of philosophy. As for the necessity of this art, it is evident enough, since this can live without all others, and no one other without this. This is like speech, without which the society of men can not be preserved: the others like figures and tropes of speech which serve only to adorn it. Many nations have lived, and some do still, without any art but this; not so elegantly, I confess, but still they live, and almost all the other arts which are here practiced, are beholding to this for most of their materials.

The innocence of this life is the next thing for which I commend it, and if husbandmen preserve not that, they are much to blame, for no men are so free from the temptations of iniquity. They live by what they can get by industry from the earth, and others by what they can catch by craft from men. They live upon an estate given them by their mother, and others upon an estate cheated from their brethren. They live like sheep and kine by the allowances of nature, and others like wolves and foxes by the acquisitions of rapine. And, I hope, I may affrm (without any offense to the great) that sheep and kine are very useful, and that wolves and foxes are pernicious creatures. They are, without dispute, of all men the most quiet and least apt to be inflamed to the disturbance of the commonwealth: their manner of life inclines them, and interest binds them to love peace. In our late mad and miserable civil wars, all other trades, even to the meanest, set forth whole troops, and raised up some great commanders, who became famous and mighty for the mischiefs they

had done; but I do not remember the name of any one husbandman who had so considerable a share in the twenty years' ruin of his country, as to deserve the curses of his countrymen; and if great delights be joined with so much innocence, I think it is ill done of men not to take them here where they are so tame and ready at hand, rather than hunt for them in courts and cities where they are so wild, and the chase so troublesome and dangerous.

We are here among the vast and noble scenes of nature; we are there among the pitiful shifts of policy: we walk here in the light and open ways of the divine bounty; we grope there in the dark and confused labyrinths of human malice: our senses are here feasted with the clear and genuine taste of their objects; which are all sophisticated there, and for the most part overwhelmed with their contraries. Here pleasure looks (methinks) like a beautiful, constant, and modest wife; it is there an impudent, fickle, and painted harlot. Here is harmless and cheap plenty, there guilty and expenseful luxury.

I shall only instance in one delight more, the most natural and best natured of all others, a perpetual companion of the husbandman, and that is the satisfaction of looking round about him, and seeing nothing but the effects and improvements of his own art and diligence, to be always gathering of some fruits of it, and at the same time to behold others ripening, and others budding: to see all his fields and gardens covered with the beauteous creatures of his own industry; and to see, like God, that all his works are good.

-Hinc atque hinc glomer antur Orcades; ipsi

Agricole tacitum pertentant gaudia pect us.

On his heart-string a secret joy does strike.

The antiquity of his art is certainly not to be contested by any other. The three first men in the world were a gardener, a ploughman, and a grazier; and if any man object that the second of these was a murtherer, I desire he would consider, that as soon as he was so, he quitted our profession and turned builder. It is for this reason, I suppose, that Ecclesiasticus forbids us to hate husbandry; because (says he) the Most High has created it. We were all born to this art, and taught by nature to nourish our bodies by the same earth out of which they were made, and to which they must return, and pay at last for their sustenance.

Behold the original and primitive nobility of all those great persons, who are too proud now, not only to till the ground, but almost to tread upon it. We may talk what we please of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles in fields d'or, or d'argent; but if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms.

All these considerations make me fall into the wonder and complaint of Colu mella. How it should come to pass that all arts or sciences, (for the dispute, which is an art, and which a science, does not belong to the curiosity of us husbandmen,) metaphysics, physic, morality, mathematics, logic, rhetoric, &c., which are all, I grant, good and useful faculties, (except only metaphysics, which I do not know whether it be any thing or no,) but even vaulting, fencing, dancing, attiring, cookery, carving, and such like vanities, should all have public schools and masters, and yet that we should never see or hear of any man who took upon him the profession of teaching this so pleasant, so virtuous, so profitable, so honorable, so necessary, art.

A man would think, when he's in serious humor, that it were but a vain,

irrational and ridiculous thing, for a great company of men and women to run up and down in a room together, in a hundred several postures and figures to no purpose, and with no design; and therefore dancing was invented first, and practiced anciently in the ceremonies of the heathen religion, which consisted all in mummery and madness; the latter being the chief glory of the worship, and accounted divine inspiration. This, I say, a severe man would think, though I dare not determine so far against so customary a part now of good breeding. And yet, who is there among our gentry, that does not entertain a dancing-master for his children as soon as they are able to walk? But did ever any father provide a tutor for his son, to instruct him betimes in the nature and improvements of that land which he intended to leave him? That is at least a superfluity, and this a defect in our manner of education; and therefore I could wish (but can not in these times much hope to see it) that one College in each University were erected and appropriated to this study, as well as there are to medicine and the civil law. There would be no need of making a body of scholars and fellows, with certain endowments, as in other colleges; it would suffice, if after the manner of halls in Oxford, there were only four professors constituted, (for it would be too much work for only one master, or principal, as they call him there) to teach these four parts of it. First, aration, and all things relating to it. Secondly, pasturage. Thirdly, gardens, orchards, vineyards, and woods. Fourthly, all parts of rural economy, which would contain the government of bees, swine, poultry, decoys, ponds, &c., and all that which Varro calls Villaticas Pastiones, together with the sports of the field (which ought to be looked upon not only as pleasures, but as parts of housekeeping) and the domestical conservation and uses of all that is brought in by industry abroad. The business of these professors should not be, as is commonly practiced in other arts, only to read pompous and superficial lectures out of Virgil's Georgics, Pliny, Varro, or Columella, but to instruct their pupils in the whole method and course of this study, which might be run through perhaps with diligence in a year or two; and the continual succession of scholars, upon a moderate taxation for their diet, lodging and learning, would be a sufficient constant revenue for maintenance of the house and the professors, who should be men not chosen for the ostentation of critical literature, but for solid and experimental knowledge of the things they teach such men; so industrious and public-spirited as I conceive Mr. Hartlib to be, if the gentleman be yet alive; but it is needless to speak farther of my thoughts of this design, unless the present disposition of the age allowed more probability of bringing it into execution.

SIR MATTHEW HALE.

PLAN OF EDUCATION FOR HIS GRANDCHILDREN.

Written in 1678.

IN a "Letter of Advice to his Grandchildren," written when he was "threescore and four years," and published after his death, Sir Matthew Hale-one of the most resplendent names in the annals of jurisprudence, for mental ability, general learning, purity of life, and impartiality as judge-gives the following plan for their education, in which he differs " upon great reason and observation " "from the ordinary method of tutors," not only in his day, but for two centuries afterwards in England:

PLAN OF EDUCATION FOR BOYS BETWEEN THE AGES OF EIGHT AND TWENTY

As to you, my grandsons, you must know, that till you come to be about eighteen or twenty years old, you are but in preparation to a settled estate of life; as there is no certain conjecture to be made before that age what you will be fit for, so till that age you are under the hammer and the file, to fit, dispose, and prepare you for your future condition of life, if God be pleased to lend it you; and about that time it will probably appear, both what you will be fit for, and whether you are like to make a prosperous voyage in the world or not.

1. Until you come to eight years old, I expect no more of you than to be good English scholars, to read perfectly and distinctly any part of the Bible, or any other English book, and to carry yourselves respectfully and dutifully to those that are set over you.

2. About eight years old, you are to be put or sent to a grammar school, where I expect you should make a good progress in the Latin tongue, in oratory and poetry; but above all to be good proficients in the Latin tongue, that you may be able to read, understand and construe any Latin author, and to make true and handsome Latin; and though I would have you learn somewhat of Greek, yet the Latin tongue is that which I most value, because almost all learning is now under that language. And the time for your abode at the grammar school is till you are about sixteen years old.

3. After that age, I shall either remove you to some university, or to some tutor that may instruct you in university learning, thus to be educated till you are about twenty years old; and herein I shall alter the ordinary method of tutors, upon great reason and observation.

I therefore will have you employed from sixteen to seventeen in reading some Latin authors to keep your Latin tongue; but principally and chiefly in arithmetic and geometry, and geodesy or measuring of heights, distances, and superficies and solids, for this will habituate and enlarge your understanding,

and will furnish you with a knowledge which will be both delightful and useful all the days of your life; and will give you a pleasant and innocent diversion and entertainment when you are weary and tired with any other business. From seventeen years old till nineteen or twenty, you may principally intend logic, natural philosophy, and metaphysics, according to the ordinary discipline of the university; but after you have read some systems or late topical or philosophical tracts that may give you some taste of the nature of those sciences, I shall advise your tutor to exercise you in Aristotle, for there is more sound learning of this kind to be found in him, touching these sciences, than in a cartload of modern authors; only tutors scarce take the pains to understand him themselves, much less to instruct their scholars and pupils in them, insomuch, that there are few that have read his books.

And under the title of philosophy, I do not only intend his eight books of physics, but his books de Natura et Generatione Animalium, his books de Incestu Animalium, de Anima, de Meteoriis, de Somno et Vigilia, de Morte, de Plantis, de Mundo, and his Mechanics, if you join thereunto Archimedes'.

These are part of real philosophy, and excellently handled by him, and have more of use and improvement of the mind than other notional speculations in logic or philosophy delivered by others; and the rather, because bare speculations and notions have little experience and external observation to confirm them, and they rarely fix the minds, especially of young men. But that part of philosophy that is real, may be improved and confirmed by daily observation; and is more stable, and yet more certain and delightful, and goes along with a man all his life, whatever employment or profession he undertakes.

4. When you come to above twenty years old, you are come to the critical age of your life; you are in that state of choice that the ancients tell us was offered to Hercules; on the left hand, a way of pleasure, of luxury, of idleness, intemperance, wantonness, which though it first be tempting and flattering, yet it ends in dishonor, in shame, in infamy, in poverty; such a way as the wise man spoke of, "There is a way that is pleasant and delightful, but the end of that way is death;" and that which the same wise man speaks of, (Eccles. xi. 9,) "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart. But know for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment." Again, on the right hand, there is a way of honesty and sobriety, of piety and the fear of God, of virtue and industry; and though this way may seem at first painful and rugged, yet it ends in peace and favor with God, and commonly in honor and reputation, in wealth and contentation even in this life. For although Almighty God hath reserved greater rewards for virtue and goodness than this life affords, yet he loves and delights to behold good and comely order among the children of men; and therefore a wise father will draw on his children to goodness, and learning, and obedience to him, with handsome rewards and encouragements, suitable to the age and disposition of his children. So the great Master and Father of the children of men, and of the great family of heaven and earth, doth commonly invite and draw men to ways of piety, virtue and goodness, by the encouragements of reputation, honor, esteem, wealth and other outward advantages, and thereby in great measure governs the children of men, and maintains that order that is necessary and convenient for the world of mankind.

And although this is neither the only nor chief reward of goodness and virtue yet till men are grown to that ripeness of understanding to look after re