OF THE NATURAL LOVE OR KINDNESS OF PARENTS TO THEIR CHILDREN
THE SUMMARY
[Wisely said one (whosoever it was), That to banish amity and friendship from among men were as great hurt to the society of mankind as to deprive them of the light and heat of the sun: which being verified and found true in the whole course of this life, and in the maintenance of all estates; not without great cause nature hath cast and sprinkled the seed thereof in the generation and nourishment of a race and lineage, whereof she giveth evident testimonies in brute beasts, the better to move and incite us to our duty. That we may see, therefore, this precious seed and grain of amity, how it doth flower and fructify in the world, we must begin at the love and natural kindness of fathers and mothers to their children: for if this be well kept and maintained, there proceed from it an infinite number of contentments which do much assuage and ease the inconveniences and discommodities of our life. And Plutarch, entering into this matter, sheweth first in generality: That men learn (as it were) in the school of brute beasts, with what affection they should beget, nourish, and bring up their children; afterward he doth particulcirise thereof, and enrich the same argument by divers examples. But for that he would not have us think that he extolled dumb beasts above man and woman, he observeth and setteth down very well the difference that is of amities, discoursing in good and modest terms as touching the generation and nouriture of children, and briefly by the way representeth unto us the miserable entrance of man into this race upon earth, where he is to run his course. Which done, he proveth that the nourishing of infants hath no other cause and reason but the love of fathers and mothers; he discovereth the source of this affection; and for a conclusion, sheweth that what defect and fault soever may come between and be meddled among, yet it cannot altogether abolish the same.]
That which moved the Greeks at first to put over the decision of their controversies to foreign judges, and to bring into their country strangers to be their umpires, was the distrust and diffidence that they had one in another, as if they confessed thereby that justice was indeed a thing necessary for man's life, but it grew not among them: And is not the case even so as touching certain questions disputable in philosophy? for the determining whereof philosophers (by reason of the sundry and divers opinions which are among them) have appealed to the nature of brute beasts, as it were into a strange city, and remitted the deciding thereof to their properties and affections, according to kind, as being neither subject to partial favour, nor yet corrupt, depraved, and polluted. Now surely a common reproach this must needs be to man's naughty nature and lewd behaviour; That when we are in doubtful question concerning the greatest and most necessary points pertaining to this present life of ours, we should go and search into the nature of horses, dogs, and birds for resolution; namely, how we ought to make our marriages, how to get children, and how to rear and nourish them after they be born, and as if there were no sign (in manner) or token of nature imprinted in ourselves, we must be fain to allege the passions, properties, and affections of brute beasts, and to produce them for witnesses, to argue and prove how much in our life we transgress and go aside from the rule of nature, when at our first beginning and entrance into this world, we find such trouble, disorder, and confusion; for in those dumb beasts beforesaid, nature doth retain and keep that which is her own and proper, simple, entire, without corruption or alteration by any strange mixture; whereas contrariwise, it seemeth that the nature of man, by discourse of their reason and custom together, is mingled and confused with so many extravagant opinions and judgments, set from all parts abroad (much like unto oil that cometh into perfumers' hands), that thereby it is become manifold variable, and in every one several and particular, and doth not retain that which the own indeed, proper and peculiar to itself; neither ought we to think it a strange matter and a wonderful that brute beasts, void of reason, should come nearer unto nature, and follow her steps better, than men endued with the gift of reason: for surely the very senseless plants herein surpass those beasts beforesaid, and observe better the instinct of nature; for considering that they neither conceive anything by imagination, nor have any motion, affection or inclination at all, so verily their appetite (such as it is) varieth not nor stirreth to and fro out of the compass of lature, by means whereof they continue and abide as if they vere kept in and bound within close prison, holding on still in one and the same course, and not stepping once out of that way vherein nature doth lead and conduct them: as for beasts, they lave not any such great portion of reason to temper and mollify heir natural properties, neither any great subtlety of sense and conceit, nor much desire of liberty; but having many instincts, inclinations, and appetites, not ruled by reason, they break out by the means thereof otherwhiles, wandering astray, and running up and down, to and fro, howbeit, for the most part, not very far out of order, but they take sure hold of nature; much like a ship which lieth in the road at anchor, well may she dance and be rocked up and down, but she is not carried away into the deep at the pleasure of winds and waves; or much after the manner of an ass or hackney, travelling with bit and bridle, which go not out of the right and straight way, wherein the master or rider guideth them; whereas in man, even reason herself, the mistress that ruleth and commandeth all, findeth out new cuts (as it were) and by-ways, making many starts and excursions at her pleasure to and fro, now here, now there; whereupon it is that she leaveth no plain and apparent print of nature's tracks and footing.
Consider, I pray you, in the first place the marriages (if I may so term them) of dumb beasts and reasonless creatures; and namely how therein they follow precisely the rule and direction of nature. To begin withal; they stand not upon those laws that provide against such as marry not, but lead a single life; neither make they reckoning of the acts which lay a penalty upon those that be late ere they enter into wedlock, like as the citizens under Lycurgus and Solon, who stood in awe of the said statutes; they fear not to incur the infamy which followed those persons that were barren and never had children; neither do they regard and seek after the honours and prerogatives which they attained who were fathers of three children, like as many of the Romans do at this day, who enter into the state of matrimony, wed wives and beget children, not to the end that they might have heirs to inherit their lands and goods, but that they might themselves be inheritors and capable of dignities and immunities. But to proceed unto more particulars, the male afterwards doth deal with the female in the act of generation not at all times; for that the end of their conjunction and going together is not gross pleasure so much as the engendering of young and the propagation of their kind: and therefore at a certain season of the year, to wit, the very prime of the spring, when as the pleasant winds so apt for generation do gently blow, and the temperature of the air is friendly unto breeders, cometh the female full lovingly and kindly toward her fellow the male, even of her own accord and motion (as it were), trained by the hand of that secret instinct and desire in nature; and for her own part, she doth what she can to woo and solicit him to regard her, as well by the sweet scent of her flesh as also by a special and peculiar ornament and beauty of her body, shewing herself fresh and cheerful, full of dew and verdure of green herbs, pure and neat, I warrant you; in this manner doth she present herself unto the male and courteth him: now when she perceives once that she is sped and hath conceived by him, she leaveth him and retireth apart in good sort full decently; and then her whole care is to provide for that which she goeth withal, forecasting how to be delivered of it in due time, and bethinking how to save, preserve and rear it when it is fallen and brought forth. And certes, it is not possible to express sufficiently and worthily the particulars that are done by these dumb creatures (but only this, that everything proceedeth from the tender love and affection which they have to their young ones) in providence, in patience, in abstinence.
We all acknowledge the bee to be wise, we call her so, we celebrate her name for producing and working so diligently that yellow honey, yea, and we flatter in praising her, feeling as we do the sweetness of the said honey, how it tickleth and contenteth our tongue and taste; and all this while what one is there of us that maketh any account of the wisdom, wit, and artificial subtlety that other creatures shew, as well in the bringing forth their young as the fostering and nouriture of them? for first and foremost do but consider the sea-bird called alcyon, no sooner doth she perceive herself to be knit with egg but she falleth presently to build her nest, she gathereth together the chine-bones of a certain sea-fish which the Greeks all βελόνη, that is to say, the sea-needle; these she coucheth, plaiteth, windeth and interlaceth one within another, so artificially working the same and weaving them close together n a round and large form, after the manner of a fisher's leap or veel net; and when she hath knit and fortified the same exactly with many courses of the said bones driven and united jointly together in good order, she exposeth it full against inundation and dashing of the sea waves, to the end that the superficial outside of the work, beaten upon gently and by little and little with. the water, being thickened and felted thereby, might be more solid and firm, and so it proveth indeed; for so hard it groweth by this means that scarcely any stone can crush it, or edged instrument of iron cleave it; but that which is yet more wonderful, the mouth and entry of the said nest is composed and wrought proportionably just to the measure and bigness of the bird alcyon aforesaid, so as no creature bigger or less than herself, no nor the very sea (as men say) nor the least thing in the world can get into it. And will you see, moreover, what kindness and natural affection the sea-weesils or sea-dogs do shew unto their little ones? They breed their young whelps or kitlings alive within their bellies, and when they list, let them forth and suffer them to run abroad for relief and to get their food, and afterwards receive them into their bodies again, enclosing them whiles they be asleep themselves, cherishing them couched in their bowels and womb. The she-bear, a most fell, savage and cruel beast, bringeth forth her young whelps without form or fashion, unknit and unjointed, having no distinct limbs or members to be seen; howbeit with her tongue, as it were with a tool and instrument for the purpose, she keepeth such a licking of them, she formeth and fashioneth those membranes wherein they were lapped in her womb, in such sort that she seemeth not only to have brought forth her young, but also to have wrought them afterwards workman-like to their shape and proportion. As for that lion which Homer describeth in this wise:
Who leading forth his tender whelps
To seek abroad for prey
In forest wild; no sooner meets
With hunters in the way,
But looking stern with bended brows
Which cover both his eyes,
He makes a stand, and them affronts
In fierce and threat'ning wise:
think you not by this description that he resembleth one who is bent to capitulate and stand upon terms of composition with the hunters for to save the life of his httle ones? To speak in a word, this tender love and affection of beasts toward their young maketh them that otherwise be timorous, hardy and bold; those that be slow and idle by nature, laborious and painful; and such as of themselves are greedy and ravenous, to be spare and temperate in their feeding, like as the bird whereof the same Homer speaketh:
Which brings in mouth unto her nest,
Such food as she abroad
Could get to feed her naked young,
And doth herself defraud.
For content she is even with her own hunger to nourish her little ones, and the same food or bait that she hath for them, being so near as it is unto her own craw and gesier, she holdeth close and fast in her bill, for fear lest she might swallow it down the throat ere she were aware:
Or like the bitch running about
Her young whelps, at the sight
Of strangers, bays and barks apace,
And ready is to fight.
No doubt the fear which she hath lest her little one should take harm redoubleth her courage, and maketh her more hardy and angry than before: as for the partridges, when they be laid for by the fowler, together with their covey of young birds, they suffer them to fly away as well as they can, and make shift to save themselves, but the old rowens full subtilly seem to wait the coming of the said hunters, abiding until they approach near unto them, and by keeping about their feet, train them still away after them, ready ever as it were to be caught; now when the fowler shall seem to reach unto them with his hand, they will run a little or take a short flight from him, and then they stay again, putting him in new hope of his prey and booty, which every foot he thinketh to take with his hand: thus they play mock-holiday with the fowlers, and yet with some danger to themselves for the safety of their young, until they have trained them a great way off, who sought for their lives. Our hens which we keep about our houses so ordinarily, and have daily in our eyes, how carefully do they look unto their young chickens whiles they receive some under their wings, which they spread and hold open for the nonce that they may creep in, others they suffer to mount upon their backs, gently giving them leave to climb and get up on every side, and this they do not without great joy and contentment, which they testify by a kind of clocking and special noise that they make at such a time; if when they be alone without their chickens, and have no fear but for themselves, a dog or a serpent come in their way, they fly from them; let their brood be about them when such a danger is presented, it is wonderful how ready they will be to defend the same, yea, and to fight for them, even above their power.
Do we think now that nature hath imprinted such affections and passions in these living creatures, for the great care that she hath to maintain the race and posterity (as it were) of hens, dogs, or bears; or do we not rather make this construction of it, that she shameth, pricketh, and woundeth men thereby when we reason and discourse thus within ourselves, that these things be good examples for as many as follow them, and the reproaches of those that have no sense or feeling of natural affection; by which no doubt they do blame and accuse the nature of man only, as if she alone were not affectionate without some hire and reward, nor could skill of love but for gain and profit? for admired he was in the theatres that thus spake first:
For hope of gain one man will love another,
Take it away, what one will love his brother?
This is the reason (according to the opinion and doctrine of Epicurus) that the father affecteth his son, the mother is tender over her child, and children likewise are kind unto their parents: but set case that brute beasts could both speak and understand language, in some open theatre, and that one called to meet together a sufficient assembly of beeves, horses, dogs and fowls, certes, if their voices were demanded upon this point now in question, he would set down in writing and openly pronounce, that neither bitches loved their whelps, nor mares their foals, hens their chickens, and other fowls their little birds in respect of any reward, but freely and by the instinct of nature: and this would be found a true verdict of his, justified and verified by all those passions and affections which are observed in them: and what a shame and infamy unto mankind is this to grant and avouch, that the act of generation in brute beasts, their conception, their breeding, their painful delivery of their young, and the careful feeding and cherishing of them, be nature's works merely, and duties of gratuity; and contrariwise that in men they be pawns given them for security of interest, hires, gages, and earnest pennies respective to some profit and gain which they draw after them? But surely as this project is not true, so it is not worth the hearing, for nature verily as in savage plants and trees, to wit, wild vines, wild fig-trees, and wild olives, she doth ingenerate certain raw and unperfect rudiments (such as they be) of good and kind fruits; so she hath created in brute beasts a natural love and affection to their young, though the same be not absolute nor fully answerable to the rule of justice, nor yet able to pass farther than the bonds and limits of necessity.
As for man, a living creature, endued and adorned with reason, created and made for a civil society, whom she hath brought into the world for to observe laws and justice, to serve, honour and worship the gods, to found cities and govern commonwealths, and therein to exercise and perform all offices of bounty: him she hath bestowed upon noble, generous, fair and fruitful seeds of all these things, to wit, a kind love and tender affection toward his children; and these she followeth still, and persisteth therein, which she infused together with the first principles and elements that went to the frame of his body and soul: for nature being every way perfect and exquisite, and namely in this inbred love toward infants, wherein there wanteth nothing that is necessary, neither from it is ought to be taken away as superfluous; It hath nothing (as Erasistratus was wont to say) vain, frivolous, and unprofitable, nothing inconstant, and shaking to and fro, inclining now one way, and then another. For in the first place, as touching the generation of man, who is able to express her prudence sufficiently? neither haply may it stand with the rule of decent modesty to be over-curious and exquisite in delivering the proper names and terms thereto belonging: for those natural parts serving in that act of generation and conception, secret as they be and hidden, so they neither can well nor would willingly be named, but the composition and framing thereof, so aptly made for the purpose, the disposition and situation likewise so convenient, we ought rather to conceive in our mind than utter in speech.
Leaving therefore those privy members to our private thoughts, pass we to the confection, disposition and distribution of the milk, which is sufficient to shew most evidently her providence, industry, and diligence; for the superfluous portion of blood which remaineth in a woman's body, over and above that which serveth for the use whereunto it is ordained, floating up and down within her afterwards, for defect or feebleness of spirits wandereth (as it were) to and fro, and is a burden to her body; but at certain set times and days, to wit, in every monthly revolution, nature is careful and diligent to open certain sluices and conducts, by which the said superfluous blood doth void and pass away, whereupon she doth not only purge and lighten all the body besides, but also cleanseth the matrice, and maketh it like a piece of ground brought in order and temper, apt to receive the plough, and desirous of the seed after it in due season: now when it hath once conceived and retained the said seed, so as the same take root and be knit, presently it draweth itself straight and close together round, and holdeth the conception within it; for the navel (as Democritus saith) being the first thing framed within the matrice, and serving instead of an anchor against the waving and wandering of it to and fro, holdeth sure the fruit conceived, which both now groweth and hereafter is to be delivered (as it were) by a sure cable and strong bough, then also it stoppeth and shutteth up the said riverets and passages of those monthly purgations; and taking the foresaid blood, which otherwise would run and void by those pipes and conducts, it maketh use thereof for to nourish, and (as it were) to water the infant, which beginneth by this time to take some consistence and receive shape and form, so long, until a certain number of days which are necessary for the full growth thereof within be expired; at which time it had need to remove from thence for a kind of nutriment elsewhere in another place; and then diverting the said course of blood with all dexterity and a skilful hand (no gardener nor fountainer in drawing of his trenches and channels with all his cunning so artificial), and employing it from one use to another, she hath certain cisterns (as it were) or fountainheads prepared of purpose from a running source most ready to receive that liquor of blood quickly, and not without some sense of pleasure and contentment; but withal, when it is received, they have a power and faculty, by a mild heat of the natural spirits within them, and with a delicate and feminine tenderness, to concoct, digest, change and convert it into another nature and quality, for that the paps have within them naturally the like temperature and disposition answerable unto it: now these teats which spout out milk from the cocks of a conduct, are so framed and disposed that it fioweth not forth all at once, neither do they send it away suddenly: but nature hath so placed the dug, that as it endeth one way in a spongeous kind of flesh full of small pipes, and made of purpose to transmit the milk, and let it distil gently by many little pores and secret passages, so it yieldeth a nipple in manner of a faucet, very fit and ready for the little babe's mouth, about which to nuzzle and nudgel with its pretty lips it taketh pleasure, and loveth to be tugging and lugging of it; but to no purpose and without any fruit or profit at all had nature provided such tools and instruments for to engender and bring forth a child; to no end (I say) had she taken so good order, used so great industry, diligence and forecast, if withal she had not imprinted in the heart of mothers a wonderful love and affection, yea, and an extraordinary care over the fruit of their womb, when it is born into the world: for
Of creatures all which breathe and walk
Upon the earth in sight,
None is there wretched more than man
New born into this light.
And whosoever saith thus of a young infant newly coming forth of the mother's womb, maketh no lie at all, but speaketh truth; for nothing is there so imperfect, so indigent and poor, so naked. so deformed, so foul and impure, than is man to see to presently upon his birth, considering that to him (in manner alone) nature hath not given so much as a clean passage and way into this light; so furred he is all over and polluted with blood, so full of filth and ordure, when he entereth into the world, resembling rather a creature fresh killed and slain than newly bom; that nobody is willing to touch, to take up, to handle, dandle, kiss and clip it, but such as by nature are led to love it: and therefore, whereas in all other living creatures nature hath provided that their udders and paps should be set beneath under their bellies, in a woman only she hath seated them aloft in her breasts, as a very proper and convenient place, where she may more readily kiss, embrace, coll and huggle her babe while it sucketh; willing thereby to let us understand that the end of breeding, bearing and rearing children is not gain and profit, but pure love and mere affection. Now, if you would see this more plainly proved unto you, propose (if you please) and call to remembrance the women and men both in the old world whose hap was either first to bear children, or to see an infant newly born; there was no law then to command and compel them to nourish and bring up their young babes, no hope at all of reciprocal pleasure or thanks at their hands that induced them; no expectance of reward and recompense another day to be paid from them, as due debt for their care, pains, and cost about them: nay, if you go to that, I might say rather: That mothers had some reason to deal hardly with their young infants, and to bear in mind the injuries that they have done them, in that they endured such dangers and so great pains for them:
As namely, when the painful throes
As sharp as any dart,
In travail pinch a woman near,
And pierce her to the heart:
Which midwives, Jimo's daughters then.
Do put her to, poor wretch.
With many a pang, when with their hand
They make her body stretch.
But our women say; It was never Homerus (surely) who wrote this, but Homeris rather: that is to say, some poetess or woman of his poetical vein, who had been herself at such a business, and felt the dolorous pangs of childbirth, or else was even then in labour, and upon the point to be delivered, feeling a mixture of bitter and sharp throes in her back, belly and flanks, when she poured out these verses: but yet, for all the sorrow and dear bargain that a mother hath of it, this kind and natural love doth still so bend, incline and lead her, that notwithstanding she be in a heat still upon her travail, full of pains and after-throes, panting, trembling, and shaking for very anguish, yet she neglecteth not her sweet babe, nor windeth or shrinketh away from it; but she turneth toward it, she maketh to it, she smileth and laugheth upon it, she taketh it into her arms, she huggleth it in her bosom, and kisseth it full kindly: neither all this whiles gathereth she any fruits of pleasure or profit, but painfully (God wot) and carefully
She laps it then in rags full soft,
With swaddling bands she wraps it oft.
By turns she cools and keeps it warm,
Loth is she that it should take harm:
And thus as well by night as day,
Pains after pains she taketh ay.
Now tell me (I pray you) what reward, recompense, and profit do women reap for all this trouble and painful hand about their little ones? None at all (surely) for the present, and as little in future expectance another day, considering their hopes are so far off, and the same so uncertain. The husbandman that diggeth and laboureth about his vine at the equinox in the spring, presseth grapes out of it and maketh his vintage at the equinox of the autumn. He that soweth his corn when the stars called Pleiades do couch and go down, reapeth and hath his harvest afterwards when they rise and appear again; kine calve, mares foal, hens hatch, and soon after there cometh profit of their calves, their colts and their chickens: but the rearing and education of a man is laborious, his growth is very slow and late; and whereas long it is ere he cometh to prove and make any shew of virtue, commonly most fathers die before that day. Neocles lived not to see the noble victory before Salanus that Themistocles his son achieved: neither saw Miltiades the happy day wherein Simon his son won the field at the famous battle near the river Eurynidon: Xantippus was not so happy as to hear Pericles his son out of the pulpit preaching and making orations to the people; neither was it the good fortune of Ariston to be at any of his son Plato's lectures and disputations in philosophy: the fathers of Euripides and Sophocles, two renowned poets, never knew of the victories which they obtained for pronouncing and rehearsing their tragedies in open theatre, they might hear them peradventure when they were little ones to stammer, to lisp, to spell and put syllables together, or to speak broken Greek, and that was all. But ordinary it is that men live to see, hear, and know when their children fall to gaming, revelling, masking, and banqueting, to drunkenness, wanton love, whoring, and such-like misdemeanours. So as in these regards this one mot of Euenus in an epigram of his, deserveth to be praised and remembered:
See how great pains all fathers undergo,
What daily griefs their children put them to.
And yet for all this, fathers cease not still to nourish and bring up children, and such most of all who stand least in need of their children another day; for a mere mockery it were and a ridiculous thing, if a man should suppose that rich and wealthy men do sacrifice unto the gods, and make great joy at the nativity and birth of their children, because that one day they shall feed and sustain them in their old age, and inter them after they be dead; unless perhaps it may be said, they rejoice thus and be so glad to have and bring up children, for that otherwise they should leave none heirs behind them; as who would say, it were so hard a matter to find out and meet with those that would be willing to inherit the lands and goods of strangers. Certes, the sands of the sea, the little motes in the sun raised of dust, the feathers of birds together with their variable notes, be not so many in number as there be men that gape after heritages, and be ready to succeed others in their livings. Danaus (who, as they say, was the father of fifty daughters), if his fortune had been to be childless, I doubt not but he should have had more heirs than so to have parted his goods and state among them, and those verily after another sort than the heirs of his own body. For children yield their parents no thanks at all for being their inheritors, neither in regard thereof do they any service, duty or honour unto them; for why? they expect and look for the inheritance as a thing due and of right belonging unto them: but contrariwise you hear how those strangers that hang and hunt about a man who hath no children, much like to those in the comedies, singing this song:
O sir, no wight shall do you any harm,
I will revenge your wrongs and quarrels ay:
Hold here, three halfpence good to keep you warm.
Purse it, drink it, sing woe and care away.
As for that which Euripides saith:
These worldly goods procure men friends to chuse,
And credit most, who then will them refuse,
it is not simply and generally true, unless it be to those as have no children; for such indeed are sure to be invited and feasted by the rich; lords and rulers will make court and be serviceable to such; for them great orators and advocates will plead at the bar without fee, and give their counsel gratis:
How mighty is a rich man with each one.
So long as his next heir is known to none!
whereas you shall see many in the world, who beforetime having a number of friends and honour enough, and no sooner had a little child born unto them, but they lost all their friends, credit, and reputation at once, so that by this reckoning the having of children maketh nothing at all to the authority of their parents, so that in regard thereof it is not that they do so love their children; but surely the cause of this their kindness and affection proceedeth altogether from nature, and appeareth no less in mankind than in wild beasts: Howbeit otherwhiles this natural love, as well as many other good qualities in men, are blemished and obscured by occasion of vice that buddeth up afterwards; like as we see wild briars, bushes and brambles to spring up and grow among good and kind seeds, for otherwise we might as well collect and say that men love not themselves because many cut their own throats, or wilfully fall down head-long from steep rocks and high places. For Œdipus
With bloody hand his own eyelids did force.
And plucked out his eyes upon remorse.
Hegesias, disputing and discoursing upon a time of abstinence, caused many of his auditors and scholars to pine themselves to death:
Such accidents of many sorts there be.
Permitted by the gods we daily see.
But all of them, like as those other passions and maladies of the mind before named, transport a man out of his own nature, and put him beside himself, so as they testify against themselves that this is true, and that they do amiss herein; for if a sow having farrowed a little pig, devour it when she hath done, or a bitch chance to tear in pieces a puppy or whelp of her own litter, presently men are amazed at the sight thereof, and wonderfully affrighted, whereupon they sacrifice unto the gods certain expiatory sacrifices, for to divert the sinister presages thereof, as taking it to be a prodigious wonder, and confessing thereby that it is a property given to all living creatures, even by the instinct and institution of nature, to love, foster and
cherish the fruit of their own bodies: so far is it from them to destroy the same. And yet, notwithstanding her corruption and depravation in this behalf: Like as in mines, the gold (although it be mixed with much clay, and furred all over with earth) shineth and glittereth through the same, and is to be seen afar off; even so nature, amid the most depravate manners and corrupt passions that we have, sheweth a certain love and tender affection to little ones. To conclude, whereas the poor many times make no care at all to nourish and rear up their children, it is for nothing else but because they fear lest having not so good bringing up nor so civil education as they ought, they should prove servile in behaviour, untaught, unmannerly, rude, and void of all good parts; and judging (as they do) poverty to be the extremity of all miseries that can befall to man, their heart will not serve them to leave unto their children this hereditary calamity, as a most grievous and dangerous disease.