imus
ditiores_, we shall be richer than all the Arabic or Indian princes; of
such [3336]esteem they were with him, incomparable worth and value. Seneca
prefers Zeno and Chrysippus, two doting stoics (he was so much enamoured of
their works), before any prince or general of an army; and Orontius, the
mathematician, so far admires Archimedes, that he calls him _Divinum et
homine majorem_, a petty god, more than a man; and well he might, for aught
I see, if you respect fame or worth. Pindarus, of Thebes, is as much
renowned for his poems, as Epaminondas, Pelopidas, Hercules or Bacchus, his
fellow citizens, for their warlike actions; _et si famam respicias, non
pauciores Aristotelis quam Alexandri meminerunt_ (as Cardan notes),
Aristotle is more known than Alexander; for we have a bare relation of
Alexander's deeds, but Aristotle, _totus vivit in monumentis_, is whole in
his works: yet I stand not upon this; the delight is it, which I aim at, so
great pleasure, such sweet content there is in study. [3337]King James,
1605, when he came to see our University of Oxford, and amongst other
edifices now went to view that famous library, renewed by Sir Thomas
Bodley, in imitation of Alexander, at his departure brake out into that
noble speech, If I were not a king, I would be a university man: [3338]
"and if it were so that I must be a prisoner, if I might have my wish, I
would desire to have no other prison than that library, and to be chained
together with so many good authors _et mortuis magistris_." So sweet is the
delight of study, the more learning they have (as he that hath a dropsy,
the more he drinks the thirstier he is) the more they covet to learn, and
the last day is _prioris discipulus_; harsh at first learning is, _radices
amarcae_, but _fractus dulces_, according to that of Isocrates, pleasant at
last; the longer they live, the more they are enamoured with the Muses.
Heinsius, the keeper of the library at Leyden in Holland, was mewed up in
it all the year long: and that which to thy thinking should have bred a
loathing, caused in him a greater liking. [3339]"I no sooner" (saith he)
"come into the library, but I bolt the door to me, excluding lust,
ambition, avarice, and all such vices, whose nurse is idleness, the mother
of ignorance, and melancholy herself, and in the very lap of eternity,
amongst so many divine souls, I take my seat, with so lofty a spirit and
sweet content, that I pity all our great ones, and rich m