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THE ESSAYS 
 
 OR COUNSELS CIVIL AND MORAL 
 
 AND WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS 
 
 OF FRANCIS LORD VERULAM 
 
 EDITED BY B. MONTAGU ESQ. 
 
 ALDI 
 
 LONDON 
 
 WILLIAM PICKERING 
 1836 
 

 an a Toaq^ifi ta3jto nrr*/ t ?i ai/irijov sjttli arm 
 <>t aaaisioaKi .8^.i'/raHij| 10 smis toshi a htiw 
 
 WOG *I 10 I a A.J ^J:]/H.1^77 ?HT 
 l3ATftOM 1 18 AH 
 
 C. WHITTLYGHAM, TOOK8 COURT, 
 CIIANCF.KY LANE. 
 

 THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS, WITH GREAT RESPECT AND 
 WITH A DEEP SENSE OF KINDNESS, INSCRIBED TO 
 THE VENERABLE EARL OF ELDON, 
 
 BY 
 BASIL MONTAGU. 
 
 l M TO". <'AOOT ,1/:AH37.ITTTH7/- 'j 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 Ix the early part of the year 1597 Lord Bacon's 
 first publication appeared. It is a small 12mo. 
 volume, entitled Essay es, Religious Meditations, 
 Places of Perswasion and Disswasion. It is dedi- 
 cated 
 
 'To M. Anthony Bacon, his deare Brother. 
 
 Lcuing and beloued Brother, I doe nowe like some 
 that have an orcharde ill neighbored, that gather 
 their fruit before it is ripe, to preuent stealing. 
 These fragments of my conceites were going to 
 print, To labour the staie of them had bin trou- 
 blesome, and subiect to interpretation ; to let 
 them passe had beene to aduenture the wrong they 
 mought receiue by vntrue coppies, or by some 
 garnishment, which it mought please any that 
 should set them forth to bestow vpon them. There- 
 fore I helde it best as they passed long agoe from 
 my pen, without any further disgrace, then the 
 weaknesse of the Author. And as I did euer 
 hold, there mought be as great a vanitie in retiring 
 and withdrawing mens conceites (except they bee 
 of some nature) from the world, as in obtruding 
 them : So in these particulars I haue played my- 
 self the Inquisitor, and find nothing to my vnder- 
 standing in them contrarie or infectious to the 
 b 
 
11 PREFACE. 
 
 state of Religion, or manners, but rather (as I 
 suppose) medecinable. Only I disliked now to put 
 them out because they will be like the late new 
 halfe-pence, which, though the siluer were good, 
 yet the peeces were small. But since they would not 
 stay with their Master, but would needes trauaile 
 abroade, I haue preferred them to you that are 
 next my selfe, Dedicating them, such as they are, 
 to our loue, in the depth whereof (I assure you) I 
 sometimes wish your infirmities translated vppon 
 my selfe, that her Maiestie mought haue the ser- 
 uice of so actiue and able a mind, and I mought be 
 with excuse confined to these contemplations and 
 studies for which I am fittest, so commend I you 
 to the preseruation of the diuine maiestie : From 
 my Chamber at Graies Inne, this 30 of Januarie, 
 1597. Your entire Louing Brother, Fran, Bacon/ 
 The Essays, which are ten in number, abound 
 with condensed thought and practical wisdom, 
 neatly, pressly and weightily stated, and, like all 
 his early works, are simple without imagery. 
 They are written in his favourite style of apho- 
 risms, although each Essay is apparently a conti- 
 nued work, and without that love of antithesis 
 and false glitter to which truth and justness of 
 thought are frequently sacrificed by the writers of 
 maxims. 
 
 c ,.i, s^ccm^gdition, with a translation of the Me- 
 ditat^es e ^rce y v^i^bYished in the next year; 
 and another edition enlarged in 1612, when he 
 
PREFACE. iii 
 
 was Solicitor-general, containing thirty-eight Es- 
 says ; and one still more enlarged in 1625, con- 
 taining fifty-eight Essays, the year before his 
 death. 
 
 The Essays in the subsequent editions are much 
 augmented, according to his own words, "I 
 always alter when I add, so that nothing is 
 finished till all is finished," and they are adorned 
 by happy and familiar illustration, as in the Essay 
 of'" Wisdom for a Man's self," which concludes 
 in the edition of 1625, with the following extract, 
 not to be found in the previous edition : — " Wis- 
 dom for a man's self is in many branches thereof 
 a depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that 
 will be sure to leave a house somewhat before it 
 fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out 
 the badger who digged and made room for him. 
 It is the wisdom of crocodiles that shed tears 
 when they would devour. But that which is spe- 
 cially to be noted is, that those which, as Cicero 
 says of Pompey, are sui amantes sine rivali, are 
 many times unfortunate. And whereas they have 
 all their time sacrificed to themselves, they be- 
 come in the end themselves sacrifices to the in- 
 constancy of fortune, whose wings they thought 
 by their self-wisdom to have pinioned." 
 
 So in the Essay upon Adversity, on which he 
 had deeply reflected, before the edition of rko, 
 when k first appeared, he says : u The virtue of 
 prosperity is temperance, the virtue of adversity 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 is fortitude, which in morals is the more heroica! 
 virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old 
 Testament, Adversity is the blessing of the New, 
 which carrieth the great benediction, and the 
 clearer revelation of God's favour. Yet even in 
 the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, 
 you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as carols ; 
 and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured 
 more in describing the afflictions of Job than the 
 felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without 
 many fears and distastes ; and adversity is not 
 without comforts and hopes. We see in needle- 
 works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to 
 have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, 
 than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a 
 lightsome ground : judge, therefore, of the plea- 
 sure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. 
 Certainly virtue is like precious odours, most 
 fragrant when they are incensed or crushed : for 
 prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity 
 doth best discover virtue. 
 
 The Essays were immediately translated into 
 French and Italian, and into Latin by some of his 
 friends, amongst whom were Hacket, Bishop of 
 Lichfield, and his constant affectionate friend, 
 
 _ i ! 2IGi D9IUJ3Y J9DflJj 3 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 oi v n99u sjsfi &snij,jfi9'i 
 
 His own estimate of the value of this work is 
 
 thus stated in his letter to the Bishop of Win- 
 chester : "As for my Essays, and some other 
 particulars of that nature, I count them but as the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 recreations of my other studies, and in that man- 
 
 ner purpose to continue them ; though 1 am not 
 
 ignorant that these kind of writings would, with 
 
 less pains and assiduity, perhaps yield more lustre 
 
 and reputation to my name than the others I have 
 . , i ,, > 'Ox) to no! nxftb 
 
 m hand. 
 
 Although it was not likely that such lustre and 
 reputation would dazzle him, the admirer of 
 Phocion, who, when applauded, turned to one of 
 his friends and asked, "What have I said amiss ?" 
 although. popular judgment was not likely to mis- 
 lead him who concludes his observations upon 
 the objections to learning and the advantages of 
 knowledge, by saying, "Nevertheless I do not 
 pretend, and I know it will be impossible for me, 
 by any pleading of mine, to reverse the judgment 
 either of iEsop's cock that preferred the barley- 
 corn before the gem; or of Midas, that being chosen 
 judge between Apollo, president of the Muses, and 
 Pan, god of the flocks, judged for plenty ; or of 
 Paris, that judged for beauty and love against 
 wisdom and power. For these things continue as 
 they have been ; but so will that also continue 
 whereupon learning hath ever relied and which 
 faileth not, ' Justificata est sapientia a filiis suis :'." 
 yet he seems to have undervalued this little work , 
 
 which, for two centuries, has been favourably re- 
 ceived by every lover of knowledge and of beauty, 
 
 and is now so well appreciated that a celebrated 
 _ . „ i r . ■ tfH 
 
 Professor ot our own times truiv savs.: "The 
 
 i Jsflrto «n 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 small volume to which he has given the title of 
 ' Essays,' the best known and the most popular 
 of all his works, is one of those where the supe- 
 riority of his genius appears to the greatest ad- 
 vantage, the novelty and depth of his reflections 
 often receiving a strong relief from the triteness 
 of the subject. It may be read from beginning to 
 end in a few hours, and yet after the twentieth 
 perusal one seldom fails to remark in it something 
 overlooked before. This, indeed, is a character- 
 istic of all: Bacon s writings, and is only to be 
 accounted for by the inexhaustible aliment they 
 furnish to our own thoughts and the sympathetic 
 activity they impart to our torpid faculties." 
 
 During his life six or more editions, which seem 
 to have been pirated, were published ; and after 
 his death, two spurious Essays " Of Death/' and 
 b Of a King," the only: authentic Posthumous 
 Essay being the Fragment of an Essay on Fame, 
 which was published by his friend and chaplain 
 Dr. Rawley. 
 
 This edition is a transcript of the edition of 1625, 
 with, the Posthumous Essays. In the Life of 
 Bacori*r there is a minute account of the different 
 editions of the Essays and of their contents. 
 They may shortly be stated as follows : 
 First edition, 1597, genuine. 
 There are two copies of this edition in the Urn- 
 *mna — H — 
 
 * By ; B. Motitagu. ■ Apperidi*, note 3 I. 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 versity Library at Cambridge: and there is Arch- 
 bishop SancrofVs copy in Emanuel Library : there 
 is a copy in the Bodleian, and I have a copy. 
 
 Second edition, 1598, genuine. 
 
 Third edition, 1606, pirated^ 
 
 Fourth edition, entitled, " The Essaies of Sir 
 Francis Bacon, Knight, the Kings Sollicker Ge- 
 nerall. Imprinted at London by Iohn Beale, 1612," 
 genuine. It was the intention of Sir Francis to 
 have dedicated this edition to Henry Prince of 
 Wales, but he was prevented by the death of the 
 Prince on the 6th of November in that year. This 
 appears by the following letter : * 
 
 To the most high and excellent Prince, Henry, 
 Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Earl 
 of Chester. 
 
 It may please your Highness, — Having divided 
 my life into the contemplative and active part, I 
 am desirous -to give his Majesty and your High- 
 ness of the fruits of both, simple though they be. 
 To write just treatises, require th leisure in the 
 writer and leisure in the reader, and therefore 
 are not so fit, neither in regard of your Highness's 
 princely affairs nor in regard of my continual 
 service; which is the cause that hath made me 
 choose to write certain brief notes, set down rattier 
 significantly than curiously, which I have called 
 Essays. The word is late but the thing is ancient ; 
 for Seneca's Epistles to Lucilius, if you mark 
 
V1H PREFACE. 
 
 them well, are but essays, that is, dispersed medi- 
 tations though conveyed in the form of epistles. 
 These labours of mine, I know, cannot be worthy 
 of your Highness, for what can be worthy of you ? 
 But my hope is, they may be as grains of salt, 
 that will rather give you an appetite than offend 
 you with satiety. And although they handle those 
 things wherein both men's lives and their persons 
 are most conversant ; yet what I have attained I 
 know not ; but I have endeavoured to make them 
 not vulgar, but of a nature whereof a man shall 
 find much in experience and little in books ; so 
 as they are neither repetitions nor fancies. Bat, 
 however, I shall most humbly desire your Highness 
 to accept them in gracious part and to conceive, 
 that if I cannot rest but must shew my dutiful 
 and devoted affection to your Highness in these 
 things which proceed from myself, I shall be 
 much more ready to do it in performance of any 
 of your princely commandments. And so wishing 
 your Highness all princely felicity, T rest vour 
 Highness most humble servant, 
 
 1612. " d In ° J Fk. Bacon. 
 
 sH bioJ 
 It was dedicated as follows : 
 
 To my loving Brother, Sir John Constable, Knt. 
 h 
 My last Essaies I dedicated to my deare bro- 
 ther Master Anthony Bacon, who is with God. 
 Looking amongst my papers tliis vacation, I found 
 others of the same nature : which if I myselte 
 shall not suffer to be lost, it seemeth the world 
 
I' RE* ACE. IX 
 
 will not; by the often printing- of, the former. 
 Missing my brother, I found you next ;. in respect 
 of bond both of neare alliance, and of straight 
 friendship and societie and particularly of com- 
 munication in studies. Wherein I must acknow- 
 ledge my selfe beholding to you. For as my 
 businesse found rest in my contemplations ; so my 
 contemplations ever found rest in your loving con- 
 ference and judgment. So wishing you all good, 
 I remaine your louing brother and friend, 
 
 Fra. Bacon. 
 
 Fifth edition, 1612, pirated. Sixth edition, 
 1613, pirated. Seventh edition, 1624, pirated. 
 Eighth edition, 1624, pirated. Ninth edition, 
 entitled, " The Essayes or Covnsels, Civiil and 
 Morall, of Francis Lo. Vervlam, Viscovnt St. 
 Alban. Newly enlarged. London, Printed by 
 Iohn Haviland for Hanna Barret and Richard 
 Whitaker, and are to be sold at the signe of the 
 King's head in Paul's Churchyard. 1625," genuine. 
 
 This edition is a small quarto of 340 pages ; it 
 clearly was published by Lord Bacon, and in the 
 next year, 1626, Lord Bacon died. The dedica- 
 tion is as follows, to the Duke of Buckingham : 
 
 To the Right Honorable my very good Lo. the 
 Duke of Buckingham his Grace, Lo.HighAd- 
 mirall of England. 
 
 Excellent Lo. — Salomon saies, A good name is 
 as a precious oyntment ; and I assure myselfe,, 
 
x mmmm 
 
 such wil your Grace's name bee, with posteritie. 
 For your fortune and merit i both, haue beene 
 eminent. And you haue planted tilings that are 
 like to last. I, doe itiom publish my Essayed-; 
 which, of all my other workes, have beene most 
 currant : for that, as it seemes^they come home 
 to mens businesse and bosomes. 3 Ihaue enlarged 
 them both in number and weight, so that they 
 are indeed a new work,,, I thought it therefore 
 agreeable to my affection, and obligation to your 
 Grace, to prefix your, name before them, both in 
 English and in OLatine^ij Fori doe conceiue, that 
 the Latine volume of them (being in the vniuersal 
 language) may last as Jsong as bookes last,: My 
 Instauration I dedicated to the king : my Historie 
 of Henry the Seventh, (which I haue now also 
 translated into Latine) and my portions of Naturall 
 History, to the Prince: and these I dedicate to 
 your Grace : being of the test fruits, that by the 
 good encrease which God gives to my pen and 
 labours, I could' yeeld. *< God leade your Grace bf 
 the .hand. Your Graces most obliged and ■ -faith* 
 full seruant, Fr. St. Alba^. 
 
 Of this edition Lord Bacon sent a copy to the 
 Marquis Fiat, with the following* letter «* 
 
 O uo I 
 
 ^JVlpnsie^ ji^ptaig^gjrj | mon Filz,— Voyant 
 
 qjf^yostre Excellence faict et traite manages, non 
 
 a rrH ' livrD hew UnoT/ fn^fii 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 seukment entre les Princes d'Angleterre et de 
 France, mais aussi entre les langues (puis que 
 faictes traduire mon liure de l'Advancement des 
 Sciences en Francois) i'ai bien voulu vous envoyer 
 mon liure dernierement imprime que i'avois pour- 
 veu pour vous, mais i'estois en doubte, de le vous 
 envoyer, pour ce qu'il estoit escrit en Anglois. 
 Mais a' cest'heure pour la raison susdicte ie le 
 vous eavoye. C'est un recompilement de mes 
 Essays Morales et Giviles ; mais tellement en- 
 larges et enrichies, tant de nombre que de poix, 
 que c'est de fait un oenvre nouveau. Ie vous 
 baise les mains, et reste ; vostre tres afYectionee 
 ami, et tres humble serviteur, 
 
 lne same m English. 
 ? 
 
 My Lord Ambassador, my Son,— Seeing that 
 your Excellency makes and treats of marriages^ 
 not only betwixt the Princes of France and Eng- 
 land, but also betwixt their languages (for -you 
 have caused my book of the Advancement of 
 Learning to be. translated into French), I was 
 much inclined to: make you a present of the last 
 book which I published, and which ih ha4i in rea- 
 diness for you. I was sometimes in dou&t ^hetta: 
 I ought to have sent it to you, because it was 
 written in the English tongue. But now, fbr [ fhat 
 tffity'.feason, I send it to you. It is a recompile- 
 ment of my Essays, Moral and Civil ; but in such 
 manner enlarged |nd enriched both in number and 
 
XII PREFACE. 
 
 weight, that it is in effect a new work. 1 kiss 
 your hands, and remain your most affectionate 
 friend and most humble servant, &c. luim , 
 
 Of the translation of the Essays into Latin, 
 Bacon speaks in the following: letter : — 
 
 M L «yu da , T . ■ ■ 
 
 " To Mr. Tobie Mathew.-It is true my labours 
 are now most set to have those works which I had 
 formerly published, as that of Advancement of 
 Learning, that of Henry VII., that of the Essays, 
 being retractate and made more perfect, well trans- 
 lated into Latin by the help of some good pens 
 which forsake me not. For these modern lan- 
 guages will, at one time or other, play the bank- 
 rupt with books ; and since I have lost much time 
 with this age, I would be glad, as God shall give 
 me leave, to recover it with posterity. For the 
 Essay of Frie^ r1 :-hip, while I took your speech of 
 it for a curse -quest, I took my promise for a 
 compliment. But since you call for it, I shall 
 perform it." 
 
 In his letter to Father Fulgentio, giving some 
 account of his writings, he says, " The Novum 
 Organum should immediately follow, but my 
 Moral and Political writings step in between as 
 being more finished. These are the History of 
 King 1 Henrv VII., and the small book, which in 
 your language you have called Saggi Morali, but 
 I give it a graver title, that of Sermones Fideles, 
 or Interiora Rerum, and these Essays will not 
 
PREFACE. Xltl 
 
 only be enlarged in number, but still more in 
 substance." 
 
 The nature of the Latin edition and of the Es- 
 says in general is thus stated by Archbishop Ten- 
 ison : 
 
 " The Essays, or Counsels Civil and Moral, 
 though a by-work also, do yet make up a book of 
 greater weight by far than the apothegms : and 
 coming home to men's business and bosoms, his 
 lordship entertained this persuasion concerning 
 them, that the Latin volume might last as long as 
 books should last. His Lordship wrote them in 
 the English tongue, and enlarged them as occasion 
 served, and at last added to them the Colours of 
 Good and Evil, which are likewise found in his 
 book De Augmentis. The Latin translation of 
 them was a work performed by divers hands ; by 
 those of Dr. Hacket (late Bishop of Lichfield), 
 Mr. Benjamin Jonson (the learned and judicious 
 poet), and some others, whose names I once heard 
 from Dr. Rawley, but I cannot now recall them, 
 To this Latin edition, he gave the title of Senno- 
 nes Fideles, after the manner of the Jews, who 
 called the words Adages or Observations of the 
 Wise, Faithful Sayings; that is, credible propo- 
 sitions worthy of firm assent and ready acceptance. 
 And (as I think) he alluded mere particularly, in 
 this title, to a passage in Ecclesiastes, where the 
 Preacher saith that he scught to find out Verba 
 Delectabilia (as Tremeh" ih the Hebrew), 
 
XIV PREFACE. 
 
 pleasant words (that is, perhaps, his Book of 
 Canticles ;) and Verba Fidelia (as the sarrie Tre- 
 mellius), Faithful Sayings; meaning, it maybe, 
 his Collection of Proverbs. In the next verse, 
 he calls them words of the wise, and so many 
 goads and nails given ' Ab eodem pastore/ from 
 the same shepherd [of the flock of Israel.]" 
 
 In the year 1638, Rawley published in folio a 
 volume containing amongst other works, " Ser- 
 mones Fideles, ab ipso Honoratissimo Auctore, 
 prseterquam in paueis, Latinitate donati." In his 
 address to the reader he says : " Accedunt, quas 
 prius Delibationes Civiles et Morales inscripserat : 
 quas etiam in linguas plurimas modernas translatas 
 esse novit ; sed eas postea, et numero et pondere, 
 auxit ; in tantum, u't veluti opus novum videri pos- 
 sint ; quas mutato titulo, Sermones Fideles, sive In- 
 tercom Rerum, inscribi placuit. Addi etiam vomit." 
 The title-page and dedication are annexed : ' " Ser- 
 mones Fideles sive Interiora Rerum. Per Fran- 
 ciscum Baconum Baronem de Vervlamio, Vice- 
 Comitem Sancti Albani. Londini Excusum typis 
 Edwardi Griffin. Prostant ad Insignia Regia in 
 Coemeterio D. Pauli, apud Richardum Whita- 
 kenim, 1638." 
 
 Ill\is£ri etExcellenti Domino Georgio Duci Buck- 
 inghamiae, summo Angliee Admirallio. 
 Honoratissime Domine, — Salomon inquit, No- 
 men bonum est instar vnguenti fragrantis et 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 pretiosi; neque dubito, quin tale futurum sitipo- 
 men tuum apud posteros/ Etenim, et fortune,! jet 
 merita tua, prsecelluerunt. Et videos ea plantasse, 
 quee sint duratura. In lucem jamnedere mihi visum 
 est Delibationes meas, quoe ex, omnibus meis 
 operibus fuerunt acceptissimee : quia forsitan vi- 
 dentur, prse ceteris, hominum negotia stringere, 
 et in sinus fluere. Eas autem auxi, et numero, et 
 pondere : in tantum, ut plane opus novum sint. 
 Consentaneum igitur duxi, affectui, et obligation! 
 rnese, erga illustrissirnam dominationem tuam,^ 
 nomen tuum illis prsofigam, tarn in editione ,^fc 
 glica, quam Latina. Etenim, in J)Qna spe sum, 
 volumen earum in Latinam, (Imguam scilicet 
 universalem) versum, posse durare, quamdiu libri 
 et literee durent. Instaurationeni meam regi dj- 
 cavi : Historiam Regni Henrici Septimi, (quam 
 etiam in Latinum verti) et portiones meas Natu- 
 ralis Historise Principi : has autem delibationes 
 illustrissimee dominationi tuoe dico ; cum sint, ex 
 fructibus optimis quos gratia divina calami mei 
 laboribus indulgente, exhibere potui. Deus illus- 
 trissirnam dominationem tuammanu ducat. Illus- 
 trissimee Dcminationis tuse servus devinctissimus 
 et fldelis, Fr. S. Alba^t. 
 
 In thenar 1618, Tte^'Bsf ^spfo^ether with the 
 Wisdom : of the 1 Ancients, was translated into Ita- 
 lian, and dedicated to Cosmo de Medici, by Tobie 
 Mathew; and in the following year the Essays were 
 
XVI PREFACE. 
 
 translated into French by Sir Arthur Gorges, and 
 printed in London. 
 
 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 In the year 1609, as a relaxation from abstruse 
 speculations, he published in Latin his interesting 
 little work, " De Sapientia Veterum. ,, 
 
 This tract seems, in former times, to have been 
 much valued. The fables, abounding with a 
 union of deep thought and poetic beauty, are 
 thirty-one in number, of which a part of " The 
 Sirens, or Pleasures, " may be selected as a spe- 
 cimen. 
 
 In this fable he explains the common but erro- 
 neous supposition, that knowledge and the con- 
 formity of the will, knowing and acting, are con- 
 vertible terms. — Of this error he, in his Essay of 
 " Custom and Education," admonishes his readers, 
 by saying, " Men's thoughts are much according 
 to their inclination ; their discourse and speeches 
 according to their learning and infused opinions, 
 but their deeds are after as they have been ac- 
 customed ; iEsop's damsel, transformed from a cat 
 to a woman, sat very demurely at the board-end 
 till a mouse ran before her." — In the fable of the 
 Sirens he exhibits the same truth, saying, " The 
 habitation of the Sirens was in certain pleasant 
 islands, from whence, as soon as out of their 
 watch-tower they discovered any ships approach- 
 ing, with their sweet tunes they would first entice 
 
PREFACE. XVII 
 
 and stay them, and, having them in their power, 
 would destroy them; and, so great were the mis- 
 chiefs they did, that these isles of the syrens, 
 even as far off as man can ken them, appeared all 
 over white with the bones of unburied carcasses : 
 by which it is signified that albeit the examples of 
 afflictions be manifest and eminent, yet they do 
 not sufficiently deter us from the wicked entice- 
 ments of pleasure." 
 
 The following is the account of the different 
 editions of this work : — The first was published in 
 1609. In February 27, 1610, Lord Bacon wrote to 
 Mr. Mathew, upon sending his book De Sapientia 
 Veterum : 
 
 " Mr. Mathew, — I do very heartily thank you 
 for your letter of the 24th of August from Sala- 
 manca ; and in recompence therefore I send you 
 a little work of mine that hath begun to pass the 
 world. They tell me my Latin is turned into 
 silver, and become current: had you been here, 
 you should have been my inquisitor before it came 
 forth; but, I think, the greatest inquisitor in 
 Spain will allow it. But one thing you must 
 pardon me if I make no haste to believe, that the 
 world should be grown to such an ecstasy as to re- 
 ject truth in philosophy, because the author dis- 
 senteth in religion ; no more than they do by 
 Aristotle or Averroes. My great work goeth for- 
 ward ; and after my manner, I alter even when I 
 add. So that nothing is finished till all be finished. 
 
XVlll PREFACE. 
 
 This I have written in the midst of a term and 
 parliament; thinking no time so possessed, but 
 that I should talk of these matters with so good 
 and dear a friend. And so with my wonted wishes 
 I leave you to God's goodness. 
 
 " From Gray's Inn, Feb. 27, 1610." 
 
 And in his letter to Father Fulgentio, giving 
 some account of his writings, he says, " My Es- 
 says will not only be enlarged in number, but 
 still more in substance. Along with them goes 
 the little piece ' De Sapientia Veterum.' " 
 
 In the " Advancement of Learning" he says, 
 " There remaineth yet another use of poesy para- 
 bolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned : 
 for that tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that 
 which is taught or delivered, and this other to re- 
 tire and obscure it : that is, when the secrets and 
 mysteries of religion, policy, or philosophy, are 
 involved in fables or parables. Of this in divine 
 poesy we see the use is authorized. In heathen 
 poesy we see the exposition of fables doth fall out 
 sometimes with great felicity ; as in the fable that 
 the giants being overthrown in their war against 
 the gods, the Earth, their mother, in revenge 
 thereof brought forth Fame : 
 
 ' Illam Terra parens, ira irritata deorum, 
 Extremam, ut perhibent, Coeo Enceladoque sororem 
 Progenuit,' 
 
 expounded, that when princes and monarchs have 
 .suppressed actual and open rebels, then the ma- 1 
 
PREFACE. XIX 
 
 lignity of the people, which is the mother "of re- 
 bellion, doth bring forth libels and slanders, and 
 taxations of the state, which is of the same kind 
 with rebellion, but more feminine. So in the 
 fable, that the rest of the gods having conspired 
 to bind Jupiter, Pallas called Briareus with his 
 hundred hands to his aid, expounded, that mo- 
 narchies need not fear any curbing of their abso- 
 luteness by mighty subjects, as long as by wisdom 
 they keep the hearts of the people, who will be 
 sure to come in on their side. So in the fable, 
 that Achilles was brought up under Chiron the 
 centaur, who was part a man and part a beast, ex- 
 pounded ingeniously, but corruptly by Machiavel, 
 that it belongeth to the education and discipline 
 of princes to know as well how to play the part of 
 the lion in violence, and the fox in guile, as of 
 the man in virtue and justice. Nevertheless, in 
 many the like encounters, I do rather think that 
 the fable was first, and the exposition then de- 
 vised, than that the moral was first, and thereupon 
 the fable framed. For I find it was an ancient 
 vanity in Chrysippus, that troubled himself with 
 great contention to fasten the assertions of the 
 Stoics upon the fictions of the ancient poets ; but 
 yet that all the fables and fictions of the poets 
 were but pleasure and not figure, I interpose no 
 opinion. Surely of those poets w T hich are now 
 extant, even Homer himself, (notwithstanding he 
 was made a kind of Scripture by the latter schools 
 
XX PREFACE. 
 
 of the Grecians,) yet I should without any diffi- 
 culty pronounce that his fables had no such in- 
 wardness in his own meaning; but what they 
 might have upon a more original tradition, is not 
 easy to affirm; for he was not the inventor of 
 many of them/ ' 
 
 In the treatise " De Augmentis," the same 
 sentiments will be found with a slight alteration 
 in the expressions. He says, " there is another 
 use of parabolical poesy opposite to the former, 
 which tendeth to the folding up of those things, 
 the dignity whereof deserves to be retired and dis- 
 tinguished, as with a drawn curtain: that is, 
 when the secrets and mysteries of religion, policy, 
 and philosophy are veiled and invested with fables 
 and parables. But whether there be any mystical 
 sense couched under the ancient fables of the 
 poets, may admit some doubt : and indeed for our 
 part we incline to this opinion, as to think that 
 there was an infused mystery in. many of the an- 
 cient fables of the poets. Neither doth it move 
 us that these matters are left commonly to school- 
 boys and grammarians, and so are embased, that 
 we should therefore make a slight judgment upon 
 them : but contrariwise because it is clear that 
 the writings which recite those fables, of all the 
 writings of men, next to sacred writ, are the most 
 ancient : and that the fables themselves are far 
 more ancient than they (being they are alleged by 
 those writers, not as excogitated by them, but 
 
PREFACE. XXI 
 
 as credited and recepted before) seem to be, like 
 a thin rarefied air, which from the traditions of 
 more ancient nations, fell into the flutes of the 
 Grecians." 
 
 Of this tract, Archbishop Tenison in his Baco- 
 niana, says, " In the seventh place, I may reckon 
 his book De Sapientia Veterum, written by him in 
 Latin, and set forth a second time with enlarge- 
 ment ; and translated into English by Sir Arthur 
 Gorges : a book in which the sages of former 
 times are rendered more wise than it may be they 
 were, by so dextrous an interpreter of their fa- 
 bles. It is this book which Mr. Sandys means, 
 in those words which he hath put before his notes, 
 on the Metamorphosis of Ovid. ' Of modern 
 writers, I have received the greatest light from 
 Geraldus, Pontanus, Ficinus, Vives, Comes, Sca- 
 liger, Sabinus, Pierius, and the crown of the latter, 
 the Viscount of St. Albans/ 
 
 "It is true, the design of this book was in- 
 struction in natural and civil matters, either 
 couched by the ancients under those fictions, or 
 rather made to seem to be so by his lordship's 
 wit, in the opening and applying of them. But 
 because the first ground of it is poetical story, 
 therefore let it have this place, till a fitter be 
 found for it." 
 
 The author of Bacon's Life, in the Biographia 
 Britannica, says, " That he might relieve himself a 
 little from the severity of these studies, and as it 
 
%Ml PREFACE. 
 
 were amuse himself with erecting a magnificent 
 pavilion, while his great palace of philosophy was 
 building : he composed and sent abroad in 1610, 
 his celebrated treatise Of the Wisdom of the 
 Ancients, in which he showed that none had stu- 
 died them more closely, was better acquainted 
 with their beauties, or had pierced deeper into 
 their meaning. There have been very few books 
 published, either in this or in any other nation, 
 which either deserved or met with more general 
 applause than this, and scarce any that are like 
 to retain it longer, for in this performance Sir 
 Francis Bacon gave a singular proof of his ca- 
 pacity to please all parties in literature, as in his 
 political conduct he stood fair with all the parties 
 in the nation. The admirers of antiquity were 
 charmed with this discourse, which seems ex- 
 pressly calculated to justify their admiration ; and, 
 on the other hand, their opposites were no less 
 pleased with a piece, from which they thought 
 they could demonstrate that the sagacity of a 
 modern genius had found out much better mean- 
 ings for the ancients than ever were meant by 
 them." 
 
 And Mallet, in his life of Bacon, says, " In 
 1610 he published another treatise, entitled Of 
 the Wisdom of the Ancients. This work bears 
 the same stamp of an original and inventive ge- 
 nius with his other performances. Resolving not 
 to tread in the steps of those who had gone be- 
 
 i 
 
PREFACE. XX1H 
 
 fore him, men, according to his own expression, 
 not learned beyond .certain common places, he 
 strikes out a new tract for himself, and enters 
 into the most secret recesses of this wild and 
 shadowy region, so as to appear new on a known 
 and beaten subject. Upon the whole, if we can- 
 not bring ourselves readily to believe that there 
 is all the physical, moral, and political meaning 
 veiled under those fables of antiquity, which he 
 has discovered in them, we must own that it re- 
 quired no common penetration to be mistaken 
 with so great an appearance of probability on his 
 side. Though it still remains doubtful whether 
 the ancients were so knowing as he attempts to 
 shew they were, the variety and depth of his own 
 knowledge are, in that very attempt unques- 
 tionable. " 
 
 In the year 1619, this tract was translated by 
 Sir Arthur Gorges. Prefixed to the work are two 
 letters ; the one to the Earl of Salisbury, the other 
 to the University of Cambridge, which Gorges 
 omits, and dedicates his translation to the high, 
 and illustrious Princess the Lady Elizabeth of 
 Great Britain, Duchess of Baviare, Countess 
 Palatine of Rheine, and Chief Electress of the 
 Empire. 
 
 This translation, it should be noted, was pub- 
 lished during the life of Lord Bacon by a great 
 admirer of his works. 
 
xxiv 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The editions of this work with which I am ac- 
 quainted are : 
 
 Year. 
 
 Language. 
 
 Printer. 
 
 Place* 
 
 Size. 
 
 1609 
 
 Latin 
 
 R. Barker 
 
 London 
 
 12mo 
 
 1617 
 
 Ditto 
 
 J. Bill 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1618 
 
 Italian 
 
 G. Bill 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1619 
 
 English 
 
 J. Bill 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1620 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1633 
 
 Latin 
 
 F. Maire 
 
 Lug. Bat. 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1634 
 
 Ditto 
 
 F. Kingston 
 
 London 
 
 Ditto. 
 
 1638 
 
 Ditto 
 
 E. Griffin 
 
 Ditto 
 
 Folio. 
 
 1691 
 
 Ditto 
 
 H. Wetstein 
 
 Amsterdam 
 
 12mo. 
 
 1804 
 
 French 
 
 H. Frantin 
 
 Dijon 
 
 8vo. 
 
 For the translation of this little volume I am 
 indebted to the learned Mr. Herman Merivale, the 
 son of my esteemed and kind friend and fellow - 
 labourer in the resistance of innovation and the 
 encouragement of Reform, Mr. Merivale, one of 
 the Commissioners of the Court of Bankruptcy. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 Page 
 
 1. Truth 1 
 
 2. Death 4 
 
 3. Unity in Religion > 7 
 
 4. Revenge 13 
 
 v 5. Adversity 15 
 
 6. Simulation and Dissimulation 16 
 
 7. Parents and Children 21 
 
 8. Marriage and Single Life 23 
 
 9. Envy 25 
 
 -10. Love 32 
 
 11. Great Place 34 
 
 12. Boldness 39 
 
 13. Goodness and Goodness of Nature 41 
 
 14. Nobility 44 
 
 15. Seditions and Troubles 46 
 
 |16. Atheism 56 
 
 17. Superstition 59 
 
 '18. Travel 62 
 
 19. Empire 65 
 
 20. Counsel 71 
 
 21. Delays 78 
 
 22. Cunning 79 
 
 23. Wisdom for a Man's self 84 
 
 24. Innovations 86 
 
 25. Dispatch 88 
 
 26. Seeming wise 90 
 
XXVI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 1 27. Friendship .. 92 
 
 28. Expence. 102 
 
 29. The true Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates 104 
 
 30. Regimen of Health 116 
 
 31. Suspicion 119 
 
 32. Discourse , 120 
 
 33. Plantations 123 
 
 34. Riches 127 
 
 35. Prophecies 132 
 
 36. Ambition 136 
 
 37. Masques and Triumphs 139 
 
 38. Nature in Men.. 141 
 
 39. Custom and Education 143 
 
 40.. Fortune 146 
 
 41. Usury 148 
 
 42. YouthandAge 153 
 
 43. Beauty . 156 
 
 44. Deformity 157 
 
 45. Building.. *.. 159 
 
 ,.,46. Gardens 165 
 
 47. Negotiating. 174 
 
 48. Followers and Friends 176 
 
 49. Suitors 178 
 
 50. Studies 181 
 
 51. Faction., 183 
 
 52. Ceremonies and Respects 185 
 
 53. Praise 187 
 
 54. Vain Glory 190 
 
 55. Honour and Reputation 192 
 
 56. Judicature 195 
 
 57. Anger 200 
 
 58. Vicissitude of Things 208 
 
 APPENDIX TO ESSAYS. 
 
 1. Fragment of an Essay of Fame 211 
 
 2. A King. 213 
 
 3. Essay on Death 217 
 
 
xxvn 
 
 ALPHABETICAL CONTENTS 
 
 OF THE ESSAYS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Adversity 15 
 
 Ambition 136 
 
 Anger ..,. 200 
 
 Atheism 56 
 
 Beauty 156 
 
 Boldness .... , ,39 
 
 Building ....,...,. ,.„ 159 
 
 Ceremonies and Respects...... * 185 
 
 Counsel 71 
 
 Cunning 79 
 
 Custom and Education ................... 143 
 
 Death 4 
 
 Deformity ....... ,... 157 
 
 Delays 78 
 
 Discourse ..... ......... 120 
 
 Dispatch 88 
 
 Empire 65 
 
 Envy .... ................. 25 
 
 Expence ...,,. .....*. A . 102 
 
 Faction .... 183 
 
 Followers and Friends 176 
 
 Fortune 346 
 
 Friendship 92 
 
 Gardens.. 165 
 
 Goodness, and Goodness of Nature 41 
 
 Great Place i 34 
 
 Honour and Reputation. . .. 192 
 
 Innovations 86 
 
 Judicature..... 195 
 
 Love ?..:.r.. Si- 
 
XXV111 ALPHABETICAL CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Marriage and Single Life « 23 
 
 Masques and Triumphs 139 
 
 Nature in Men 141 
 
 Nobility 44 
 
 Negociating 174 
 
 Parents and Children 21 
 
 Plantations 123 
 
 Praise 187 
 
 Prophecies. 132 
 
 Regimen of Health 116 
 
 Revenge 13 
 
 Riches 127 
 
 Seditions and Troubles 46 
 
 Seeming wise 90 
 
 Simulation and Dissimulation 16 
 
 Studies 181 
 
 Suitors 178 
 
 Superstition 59 
 
 Suspicion 119 
 
 Travel 62 
 
 True Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates 104 
 
 Truth 1 
 
 Unity in Religion 7 
 
 Usury. 148 
 
 Vain glory 190 
 
 Vicissitude of Things 203 
 
 Wisdom for a Man's self 84 
 
 Youth and Age 153 
 
 APPENDIX TO ESSAYS. 
 
 A Fragment of an Essay of Fame 211 
 
 An Essay on Death 217 
 
 Of a King 213 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Dedication — To the University of Cambridge 227 
 
 Preface 229 
 
 1. Cassandra, or Freespokenness 237 
 
 2. Typhon, or the Rebel 239 
 
 3. Cyclopes, or Ministers of Terror 242 
 
 4. Narcissus, or Self-Love 243 
 
 5. Styx, or Treaties 245 
 
 6. Pan, or Nature 248 
 
 7. Perseus, or War 259 
 
 8. Endymion, or the Favourite 264 
 
 9. Sister of the Giants, or Fame 266 
 
 10. Actaeon and Pentheus, or the Curious Man 267 
 
 11. Orpheus, or Philosophy 269 
 
 12. Heaven, or Origins 273 
 
 13. Proteus, or Matter 276 
 
 14. Memnon, or the Premature 279 
 
 15. Tythonus, or Satiety 280 
 
 16. Suitor of Juno, or Disgrace 281 
 
 17. Cupid, or Atom 282 
 
 18. Diomed, or Jealousy 287 
 
 19. Daedalus, or the Mechanic 290 
 
 .20. Erichthonius, or Imposture 293 
 
 21. Deucalion, or Restitution 295 
 
 22. Nemesis, or the Mutability of Things 296 
 
 23. Achelous, or Battle 299 
 
 24. Bacchus, or Passion 300 
 
 25. Atalanta, or Gain 305 
 
 26. Prometheus, or the state of Man 307 
 
 27. Scylla and Icarus, or the Middle Way 322 
 
 28. Sphinx, or Science 324 
 
 29. Proserpine, or Spirit 329 
 
 30. Metis, or Counsel 334 
 
 31. The Sirens, or Pleasure 335 
 
ALPHABETICAL CONTENTS OF THE 
 
 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Achelous, or Battle 299 
 
 Actaeon and Pentheus, or the Curious Man 267 
 
 Atalanta, or Gain 305 
 
 Bacchus, or Passion 300 
 
 Cassandra, or Freespokenness 237 
 
 Cupid, or Atom 282 
 
 Cyclopes, or Ministers of Terror 242 
 
 Daedalus, or the Mechanic 290 
 
 Deucalion, on Restitution 295 
 
 Diomed, or Jealousy 287 
 
 Endymion, or the Favourite 264 
 
 Erichthonius, or Imposture 293 
 
 Heaven, or Origins 273 
 
 Metis, or Counsel 334 
 
 Memnon, or the Premature 279 
 
 Narcissus, or Self-love 243 
 
 Nemesis, or the Mutability of Things 296 
 
 Orpheus, or Philosophy 269 
 
 Pan, or Nature 248 
 
 Perseus, or War 259 
 
 Proserpine, or Spirit 329 
 
 Prometheus, or the State of Man 307 
 
 Proteus, or Matter 276 
 
 Scylla and Icarus, or the Middle Way 322 
 
 Sister of the Giants, or Fame 266 
 
 Sirens, or Pleasure 335 
 
 Sphynx, or Science 324 
 
 Styx, or Treaties 245 
 
 Suitor of Juno, or Disgrace 281 
 
 Typhon, or the Rebel 239 
 
 Tythonus, or Satiety 280 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
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 j9i oJ : aoite* 
 
 smog yd 10 : ^iqq< 
 terfj 
 
 r nreriJ ,ioqv wcxteod o.t iitnoi 
 
 bib i ai 
 cjtrrnt' 
 
 * 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 I. OF TRUTH. 
 
 WHAT is truth ? said jesting Pilate ; and 
 would not stay for an answer. Certainly 
 there be that delight in giddiness ; and count it 
 a bondage to fix a belief; affecting free-will in 
 thinking, as well as in acting. And though the 
 sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet 
 there remain certain discoursing wits, which are 
 of the same veins, though there be not so much 
 blood in them as was in those of the ancients. 
 But it is not only the difficulty and labour which 
 men take in finding out of truth ; nor again, that 
 when it is found, it imposeth upon men's thoughts, 
 that doth bring lies in favour; but a natural though 
 corrupt love of the lie itself. One of the later 
 school of the Grecians examineth the matter, and 
 is at a stand to think what should be in it, that 
 men should love lies ; where neither they make 
 for pleasure, as with poets ; nor for advantage, as 
 with the merchant, but for the lie's sake. But I 
 cannot tell : this same truth is a naked and open 
 day-light, that doth not shew the masks, and 
 
 B 
 
Z ESSAYS. 
 
 mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so 
 stately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may 
 perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that sheweth 
 best by day, but it will not rise to the price of a 
 diamond or carbuncle, that sheweth best in varied 
 lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. 
 Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out 
 of men's minds, vain opinions, flattering hopes, 
 false valuations, imaginations as one would, and 
 the like, but it would leave the minds of a number 
 of men, poor shrunken things, full of melancholy 
 and indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves ? 
 One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy, 
 M vinum daemonum," because it filleth the imagi- 
 nation, and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. 
 But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, 
 but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth in it, that 
 doth the hurt, such as we spake of before. But 
 howsoever these things are thus in men's depraved 
 judgments and affections, yet truth, which only 
 doth judge itself, teacheth, that the inquiry of 
 truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it, 
 the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of 
 it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying 
 of it, is the sovereign good of human nature. The 
 first creature of God, in the works of the days, 
 w r as the light of the sense : the last was the light 
 of reason; and his sabbath work ever since, is 
 the illumination of his Spirit. First, he breathed 
 light upon the face of the matter, or chaos ; then 
 
OF TRUTH. 6 
 
 he breathed light into the face of man ; and still 
 he breatheth and inspireth light into the face of 
 his chosen. The poet that beautified the sect, that 
 was otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excel- 
 lently well: ^ It is a pleasure to stand upon the 
 shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea: a 
 pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and 
 to see a battle, and the adventures thereof below : 
 but no pleasure is comparable to the standing 
 upon the vantage ground of truth, (a hill not to be 
 commanded, and where the air is always clear and 
 serene), and to see the errors, and wanderings, 
 and mists, and tempests, in the vale below :" so 
 always that this prospect be with pity, and not 
 with swelling or pride. Certainly, it is heaven 
 upon earth, to have a man's mind move in charity, 
 rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of 
 truth. 
 
 To pass from theological and philosophical truth, 
 to the truth of civil business ; it will be acknow- 
 leged even by those that practise it not, that clear 
 and round dealing is the honour of man's nature, 
 and that mixture of falsehood is like alloy in coin 
 of gold and silver, which may make the metal 
 work the better, but it embaseth it. For these 
 winding and crooked courses are the goings of 
 the serpent ; which goeth basely upon the belly, 
 and not upon the feet. There is no vice that doth 
 so cover a man with shame as to be found false 
 and perfidious; and therefore Montaigne saith 
 
4 ESSAYS. 
 
 prettily, when he inquired the reason, why the 
 word of the lie should be such a disgrace, and 
 such an odious charge, saith he, " If it be well 
 weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much as to 
 say, that he is brave towards God, and a coward 
 towards men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks 
 from man." Surely the wickedness of falsehood, 
 and breach of faith cannot possibly be so highly ex- 
 pressed, as in that it shall be the last peal to call 
 the judgments of God upon the generations of men : 
 it being foretold, that when " Christ cometh," he 
 shall not " find faith upon the earth." 
 
 II. OF DEATH. 
 
 MEN fear death, as children fear to go in 
 the dark ; and as that natural fear in chil- 
 dren is increased with tales, so is the other. Cer- 
 tainly, the contemplation of death, as the wages 
 ] of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and 
 \ religious ; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto 
 | nature, is weak* Yet in religious meditations, 
 I there is sometimes mixture of vanity and of super- 
 1 stition. You shall read in some of the friars' books 
 
 of mortification, that a man should think with him- 
 ... 
 I self, what the pain is, if he have but his finger's 
 
 |end pressed or tortured; and thereby imagine what 
 
 the pains of death are, when the whole body is 
 
OF DEATH. O 
 
 corrupted and dissolved ; when many times death 
 passeth with less pain than the torture of a limb : 
 for the most vital parts are not the quickest of 
 sense. And by him that spake only as a philoso- 
 pher, and natural man, it was well said, " Pompa 
 mortis magis terret, quam mors ipsa." Groans 
 and convulsions, and a discoloured face, and friends 
 weeping, and blacks and obsequies, and the like, 
 show death terrible. It is worthy the observing", 
 that there is no passion in the mind of man so 
 weak, but it mates and masters the fear of death ; 
 and therefore death is no such terrible enemy 
 when a man hath so many attendants about him that 
 can win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs 
 over death ; love slights it ; honour aspireth to it ; 
 grief flieth to it ; fear pre-occupateth it : nay, we 
 read, after Otho the emperor had slain himself, 
 pity (which is the tenderest of affections) provoked 
 many to die out of mere compassion to their sove- 
 reign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, 
 Seneca adds, niceness and satiety : " Cogita quam 
 diu eadem feceris ; mori velle, non tantum fortis, 
 aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest." A man 
 would die, though he were neither valiant nor 
 miserable, only upon a weariness to do the same 
 thing so oft over and over. It is no less worthy 
 to observe, how little alteration in good spirits 
 the approaches of death make : for they appear to 
 be the same men till the last instant. Augustus 
 Caesar died in a compliment ; " Livia, conjugii 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 nostri memor, vive et vale." Tiberius in dissimu- 
 lation, as Tacitus saith of him, " Jam Tiberium 
 vires et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant :" 
 Vespasian in a jest, sitting upon the stool, " Ut 
 puto Deus fio:" Galba with a sentence, " Feri, si 
 ex re sit populi Romani," holding forth his neck ; 
 Septimius Severus in dispatch, " Adeste, si quid 
 mihi restat agendum, " and the like. Certainly 
 the Stoics bestowed too much cost upon death, and 
 by their great preparations made it appear more 
 fearful. Better, saith he, " qui finem vitse extre- 
 mum inter munera ponat naturae." It is as natural 
 to die as to be born ; and to a little infant, per- 
 haps, the one is as painful as the other. He that 
 dies in an earnest pursuit, is like one that is 
 wounded in hot blood ; who, for the time, scarce 
 feels the hurt ; and therefore a mind fixed and 
 bent upon somewhat that is good, doth avert the 
 dolours of death ; but, above all, believe it, the 
 sweetest canticle is, " Nunc dimittis" when a 
 man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. 
 Death hath this also, that it openeth the gate to 
 good fame, and extinguisheth envy: " Extinctus 
 • amabitur idem." 
 
III. OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 
 
 RELIGION being the chief band of human 
 society, it is a happy thing when itself is well 
 contained within the true band of unity. The 
 quarrels and divisions about religion w r ere evils 
 unknown to the heathen. The reason was, be- 
 cause the religion of the heathen consisted rather 
 in rites and ceremonies, than in any constant 
 belief: for you may imagine what kind of faith 
 theirs was, when the chief doctors and fathers of 
 their church were the poets. But the true God 
 hath this attribute, that he is a jealous God ; and 
 therefore his worship and religion will endure no 
 mixture nor partner. We shall therefore speak 
 a few w T ords concerning the unity of the church ; 
 what are the fruits thereof; what the bounds ; and 
 what the means. 
 
 The fruits of unity (next unto the well pleasing 
 of God, which is all in all) are two ; the one to- 
 wards those that are without the church, the other 
 towards those that are within. For the former, 
 it is certain, that heresies and schisms are of all 
 others the greatest scandals ; yea, more than cor- 
 ruption of manners : for as in the natural body 
 a wound or solution of continuity is w r orse than 
 a corrupt humour, so in the spiritual : so that 
 
b ESSAYS. 
 
 nothing doth so much keep men out of the church, 
 and drive men out of the church, as breach of 
 unity; and, therefore, whensoever it cometh to 
 that pass that one saith, " ecce in deserto," another 
 saith, " ecce in penetralibus ;" that is, when some 
 men seek Christ in the conventicles of heretics, 
 and others in an outward face of a church, that 
 voice had need continually to sound in men's ears, 
 " nolite exire," — " go not out." The doctor of 
 the Gentiles (the propriety of whose vocation drew 
 him to have a special care of those without) saith, 
 " If a heathen come in, and hear you speak with 
 several tongues, will he not say that you are 
 mad?" and, certainly, it is little better: when 
 atheists and profane persons do hear of so many 
 discordant and contrary opinions in religion, it 
 doth avert them from the church, and maketh 
 them " to sit down in the chair of the scorners." 
 It is but a light thing to be vouched in so serious 
 a matter, but yet it expresseth well the deformity. 
 There is a master of scoffing that in his catalogue 
 of books of a feigned library, sets down this title 
 of a book, " The Morris- Dance of Heretics :" for, 
 indeed, every sect of them hath a diverse posture, 
 or cringe, by themselves, which cannot but move 
 derision in worldlings and depraved politics, who 
 are apt to contemn holy things. 
 
 As for the fruit towards those that are within, 
 it is peace, which containeth infinite blessings ; 
 it established faith ; it kindleth charity ; the out- 
 
OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 9 
 
 ward peace of the church distilleth into peace of 
 conscience, and it turneth the labours of writing 
 and reading of controversies into treatises of mor- 
 tification and devotion. 
 
 Concerning the bounds of unity, the true placing 
 of them importeth exceedingly. There appear to 
 fee two extremes : for to certain zealots all speech 
 of pacification is odious. " Is it peace, Jehu ?" — 
 " What hast thou to do with peace ? turn thee 
 behind me." Peace is not the matter, but fol- 
 lowing, and party. Contrariwise, certain Laodi- 
 ceans and lukewarm persons think they may ac- 
 commodate points of religion by middle ways, and 
 taking part of both, and witty reconcilements, as 
 if they would make an arbitrement between God 
 and man. Both these extremes are to be avoided; 
 which will be done if the league of Christians, 
 penned by our Saviour himself, were in the two 
 cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly expoun- 
 ded: " He that is not with us is against us;" 
 and again, " He that is not against us is with 
 us;" that is, if the points fundamental, and of sub- 
 stance in religion, were truly discerned and dis- 
 tinguished from points not merely of faith, but of 
 opinion, order, or good intention. This is a thing 
 may seem to many a matter trivial, and done 
 already ; but if it were done less partially, it would 
 be embraced more generally. 
 
 Of this I may give only this advice, according 
 to my small model. Men ought to take heed of 
 
10 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 rending* God's church by two kinds of controver- 
 sies ; the one is, when the matter of the point con- 
 troverted is too small and light, not worth the heat 
 and strife about it, kindled only by contradiction ; 
 for, as it is noted by one of the fathers, Christ's 
 coat indeed had no seam, but the church's vesture 
 was of divers colours; whereupon he saith, " in 
 veste varietas sit, scissura non sit," they be two 
 things, unity and uniformity; the other is, when 
 the matter of the point controverted is great, but 
 it is driven to an over great subtilty and obscurity, 
 so that it becometh a thing rather ingenious than 
 substantial. A marl that is of judgment and un- 
 derstanding shall sometimes hear ignorant men 
 differ, and know well within himself, that those 
 which so differ mean one thing, and yet they them- 
 selves would never agree : and if it come so to 
 pass in that distance of judgment, which is be- 
 tween man and man, shall we not think that God 
 above, that knows the heart, doth not discern that 
 frail men, in some of their contradictions, intend 
 the same thing and accepteth of both ? The nature 
 of such controversies is excellently expressed by 
 St. Paul, in the warning and precept that he 
 giveth concerning the same, " devita profanas vo- 
 cum novitates, et oppositiones falsi nominis scien- 
 tiae." Men create oppositions which are not, and 
 put them into new terms so fixed, as whereas the 
 meaning ought to govern the term, the term in 
 effect governeth the meaning. There be also two 
 
OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 1 1 
 
 false peaces, or unities: the one, when the peace 
 is grounded but upon an implicit ignorance ; for 
 all colours will agree in the dark: the other, when 
 it is pieced up upon a direct admission of contra- 
 ries in fundamental points : for truth and false- 
 hood, in such things, are like the iron and clay in 
 the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image ; they may 
 cleave, but they will not incorporate. 
 
 Concerning the means of procuring unity, men 
 must beware, that, in the procuring or muniting 
 of religious unity, they do not dissolve and deface 
 the laws of charity and of human society. There 
 be two swords amongst Christians, the spiritual 
 and temporal ; and both have their due office and 
 place in the maintenance of religion : but we may 
 not take up the third sword, which is Mahomet's 
 sword, or like unto it : that is, to propagate reli- 
 gion by wars, or by sanguinary persecutions to 
 force consciences ; except it be in cases of overt 
 scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of practice 
 against the state ; much less to nourish seditions ; 
 to authorize conspiracies and rebellions ; to put 
 the sword into the people's hands, and the like, 
 tending to the subversion of all government, which 
 is the ordinance of God ; for this is but to dash 
 the first table against the second ; and so to con- 
 sider men as Christians, as we forget that they 
 are men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the 
 act of Agamemnon, that could endure the sacri- 
 ficing of his own daughter, exclaimed : 
 
12 ESSAYS. 
 
 u Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum. ,, 
 What would he have said, if he had known of 
 the massacre in France, or the powder treason of 
 England ? He would have been seven times more 
 epicure and atheist than he was ; for as the tem- 
 poral sword is to be drawn with great circumspec- 
 tion in cases of religion, so it is a thing monstrous 
 to put into the hands of the common people ; let 
 that be left unto the anabaptists, and other furies. 
 It was great blasphemy, when the devil said, " I 
 will ascend and be like the Highest;" but it is 
 greater blasphemy to personate God, and bring 
 him in saying, " I will descend, and be like the 
 prince of darkness :" and what is it better, to 
 make the cause of religion to descend to the cruel 
 and execrable actions of murdering princes, but- 
 chery of people, and subversion of states and go- 
 vernments? Surely this is to bring down the 
 Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove, in 
 the shape of a vulture or raven ; and to set out of 
 the bark of a Christian church a flag of a bark of 
 pirates and assassins ; therefore it is most neces- 
 sary that the church by doctrine and decree, 
 princes by their sword, and all learnings, both 
 Christian and moral, as by their Mercury rod do 
 damn, and send to hell for ever, those facts and 
 opinions tending to the support of the same, as 
 hath been already in good part done. Surely in 
 councils concerning religion, that council of the 
 apostle would be prefixed, " Ira hominis non im- 
 
OF UNITY IN RELIGION. 13 
 
 plet justitiam Dei:" and it was a notable obser- 
 vation of a wise father, and no less ingenuously 
 confessed, that those w T hich held and persuaded 
 pressure of consciences, were commonly interested 
 therein themselves for their own ends. 
 
 IV. OF REVENGE. 
 
 REVENGE is a kind of wild justice, which 
 the more man's nature runs to, the more 
 ought law to weed it out: for as for the first 
 wrong, it doth but offend the law, but the revenge 
 of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Cer- 
 tainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even with 
 his enemy ; but in passing it over, he is superior ; 
 for it is a prince's part to pardon : and Solomon, 
 I am sure, saith, "It is the glory of a man to 
 pass by an offence." That which is past is gone 
 and irrevocable, and wise men have enough to do 
 with things present and to come ; therefore they 
 do but trifle with themselves, that labour in past 
 matters. There is no man doth a wrong for the 
 wrong's sake, but thereby to purchase himself 
 profit, or pleasure, or honour, or the like ; there- 
 fore why should I be angry with a man for loving 
 himself better than me ? And if any man should 
 do wrong, merely out of ill-nature, why, yet it is 
 but like the thorn or brier, which prick and scratch, 
 
14 ESSAYS. 
 
 because they can do no other. The most tolerable 
 Sort of revenge is for those wrongs which there is 
 no law to remedy ; but then, let a man take heed 
 the revenge be such as there is no law to punish, 
 else a man's enemy is still before hand, and it is 
 two for one. Some, when they take revenge, are 
 desirous the party should know whence it cometh : 
 this is the more generous ; for the delight seemeth 
 to be not so much in doing the hurt as in making 
 the party repent : but base and crafty cowards are 
 like the arrow that flieth in the dark. Cosmus, 
 duke of Florence, had a desperate saying against 
 perfidious or neglecting friends, as if those wrongs 
 were unpardonable. " You shall read," saith he, 
 u that we are commanded to forgive our enemies, 
 but you never read that we are commanded to for- 
 give our friends. " But yet the spirit of Job was 
 in a better tune ; " Shall we/' saith he, " take 
 good at God's hands, and not be content to take 
 evil also T* and so of friends in a proportion. 
 This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge, 
 keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise 
 would heal and do well. Public revenges are for 
 the most part fortunate ; as that for the death of 
 Caesar : for the death of Pertinax ; for the death 
 of Henry the Third of France ; and many more. 
 But in private revenges it is not so ; nay, rather 
 vindictive persons live the life of witches : who, as 
 they are mischievous, so end they unfortunate. 
 
15 
 
 V. OF ADVERSITY. 
 
 IT was a high speech of Seneca (after the man- 
 ner of the Stoics), that the good things which 
 belong to prosperity are to be wished, but the good 
 things that belong to adversity are to be admired : 
 " Bona rerum secundarum optabilia, adversarum 
 mirabilia." Certainly, if miracles be the command 
 over nature, they appear most in adversity. It is 
 yet a higher speech of his than the other (much 
 too high for a heathen), " It is true greatness to 
 have in one the frailty of a man, and the security 
 of a God:" — " Vere magnum habere fragilitatem 
 hominis, securitatem Dei." This would have done 
 better in poesy, where transcendencies are more 
 allowed; and the poets, indeed, have been busy 
 with it ; for it is in effect the thing which is figured 
 in that strange fiction of the ancient poets, which 
 seemeth not to be without mystery; nay, and to 
 have some approach to the state of a Christian, 
 " that Hercules, when he went to unbind Prome- 
 theus (by whom human nature is represented), 
 sailed the length of the great ocean in an earthen 
 pot or pitcher, lively describing Christian reso- 
 lution, that saileth in the frail bark of the flesh 
 through the waves of the world." But to speak 
 in a mean, the virtue of prosperity is temperance, 
 the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which in morals 
 
16 ESSAYS. 
 
 is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the 
 blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the 
 blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater 
 benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's 
 favour. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you 
 listen to David's harp, you shall hear as many 
 hearse-like airs as carols ; and the pencil of the 
 Holy Ghost hath laboured more in describing the 
 afflictions of Job than the felicities of Solomon. 
 Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes ; 
 and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. 
 We see in needle works and embroideries, it is 
 more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad 
 and solemn ground, than to have a dark and me- 
 lancholy work upon a lightsome ground: judge, 
 therefore, of the pleasure of the heart by the plea- 
 sure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like precious 
 odours, most fragrant when they are incensed, or 
 crushed: for prosperity doth best discover vice, 
 but adversity doth best discover virtue. 
 
 VI. OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 
 
 DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of po- 
 licy, or wisdom ; for it asketh a strong wit 
 and a strong heart to know when to tell truth, and 
 to do it : therefore it is the weaker sort of politi- 
 cians that are the greatest dissemblers. 
 
OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION. 17 
 
 Tacitus saith, " Livia sorted well with the arts 
 of her husband, and dissimulation of her son ; at- 
 tributing arts or policy to Augustus, and dissimu- 
 lation to Tiberius :" and again, when Mucianus 
 encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Vitel- 
 lius, he saith, " We rise not against the piercing- 
 judgment of Augustus, nor the extreme caution or 
 closeness of Tiberius :" these properties of arts or 
 policy, and dissimulation or closeness, are indeed 
 habits and faculties several, and to be distinguished ; 
 for if a man have that penetration of judgment as 
 he can discern What things are to be laid open, and 
 what to be secreted, and what to be shewed at half 
 lights, and to whom and when, (which indeed are 
 arts of state, and arts of life, as Tacitus well calleth 
 them,) to him a habit of dissimulation is a hinder- 
 ance and a poorness. But if a man cannot attain 
 to that judgment, then it is left to him generally 
 to be close, and a dissembler : for where a man 
 cannot choose or vary in particulars, there it is 
 good to take the safest and wariest way in general, 
 like the going softly, by one that cannot well see. 
 Certainly, the ablest men that ever were, have had 
 all an openness and frankness of dealing, and a 
 name of certainty and veracity : but then they were 
 like horses well managed, for they could tell pas- 
 sing well when to stop or turn ; and at such times 
 when they thought the case indeed required dis- 
 simulation, if then they used it, it came to pass 
 that the former opinion spread abroad, of their 
 c 
 
18 ESSAYS. 
 
 good faith and clearness of dealing, made them 
 almost invisible. 
 
 There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling 
 of a man's self; the first, closeness, reservation, 
 and secrecy, when a man leaveth himself without 
 observation, or without hold to be taken, what he 
 is ; the second dissimulation in the negative, when 
 a man lets fall signs and arguments, that he is not 
 that he is ; and the third simulation in the affirma- 
 tive, when a man industriously and expressly feigns 
 and pretends to be that he is not. 
 
 For the first of these, secrecy, it is indeed the 
 virtue of a confessor ; and assuredly the secret man 
 heareth many confessions, for who will open him- 
 self to a blab or babbler ? But if a man be thought 
 secret, it inviteth discovery, as the more close air 
 sucketh in the more open ; and, as in confession, 
 the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the 
 ease of a man's heart, so secret men come to the 
 knowledge of many things in that kind ; while 
 men rather discharge their minds than impart their 
 minds. In few words, mysteries are due to se- 
 crecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is un- 
 comely, as well in mind as body ; and it addeth no 
 small reverence to men's manners and actions, if 
 they be not altogether open. As for talkers, and I 
 futile persons, they are commonly vain and credu- 
 lous withal: for he that talketh what he knoweth, 
 will also talk what he knoweth not ; therefore set 
 it down, that a habit of secrecy is both politic and 
 
OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION. 19 
 
 moral : and in this part it is good, that a mans 
 face give his tongue leave to speak ; for the dis- 
 covery of a man's self, by the tracts of his counte- 
 nance, is a great weakness and betraying, by how 
 much it is many times more marked and believed 
 than a man's words. 
 
 For the second, which is dissimulation, it fol- 
 loweth many times upon secrecy by a necessity ; 
 so that he that will be secret must be a dissembler 
 in some degree ; for men are too cunning to suffer 
 a man to keep an indifferent carriage between both, 
 and to be secret, without swaying the balance on 
 either side. They will so beset a man with ques- 
 tions, and draw him on, and pick it out of him, 
 that, without an absurd silence, he must shew an 
 inclination one way ; or if he do not, they will 
 gather as much by his silence as by his speech. 
 As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they 
 cannot hold out long : so that no man can be se- 
 cret, except he give himself a little scope of dis- 
 simulation, which is, as it were, but the skirts, or 
 train of secrecy. 
 
 But for the third degree, which is simulation 
 and false profession, that I hold more culpable, and 
 less politic, except it be in great and rare matters : 
 and, therefore, a general custom of simulation 
 (which is this last degree,) is a vice rising either 
 of a natural falseness, or fearfulness, or of a mind 
 that hath some main faults ; which because a man 
 must needs disguise, it maketh him practise simu- 
 
20 ESSAYS. 
 
 lation in other things, lest his hand should be out 
 of ure. 
 
 The advantages of simulation and dissimulation 
 are three : first, to lay asleep opposition, and to 
 surprise ; for where a man's intentions are published, 
 it is an alarum to call up all that are against them : 
 the second is, to reserve to a man's self a fair re- 
 treat ; for if a man engage himself by a manifest 
 declaration, he must go through, or take a fall : the 
 third is, the better to discover the mind of another ; 
 for to him that opens himself men will hardly 
 shew themselves averse ; but w r ill fain let him go 
 on, and turn their freedom of speech to freedom of 
 thought; and therefore it is a good shrewd proverb 
 of the Spaniard, "Tell a lie and find a troth;" as 
 if there were no way of discovery but by simulation. 
 There be also three disadvantages to set it even ; the 
 first, that simulation and dissimulation commonly 
 carry with them a shew of fearfulness, which, in any 
 business doth spoil the feathers of round flying up 
 to the mark ; the second, that it puzzleth and per- 
 plexeth the conceits of many, that, perhaps, would 
 otherwise co-operate with him, and makes a man 
 walk almost alone to his own ends ; the third, and 
 greatest, is, that it depriveth a man of one of tbe 
 most principal instruments for action, which is 
 trust and belief. The best composition and tem- 
 perature is, to have openness in fame and opinion ; 
 secrecy in habit ; dissimulation in seasonable use ; 
 and a power to feign if there be no remedy. 
 
21 
 
 VII. OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 
 
 I^HE joys of parents are secret, and so are their 
 griefs and fears ; they cannot utter the one, 
 nor they will not utter the other. Children sweeten 
 labours, but they make misfortunes more bitter : 
 they increase the cares of life, but they mitigate 
 the remembrance of death. The perpetuity by 
 generation is common to beasts ; but memory, 
 merit, and noble works, are proper to men : and , 
 surely a man shall see the noblest works and foun- 
 dations have proceeded from childless men, which 
 have sought to express the images of their minds, 
 where those of their bodies have failed; so the care 
 of posterity is most in them that have no posterity. 
 They that are the first raisers of their houses are 
 most indulgent towards their children, beholding 
 them as the continuance, not only of their kind, but 
 of their work ; and so both children and creatures. 
 
 The difference in affection of parents towards 
 their several children, is many times unequal, and 
 sometimes unworthy, especially in the mother ; as 
 Solomon saith, " A wise son rejoiceth the father, 
 but an ungracious son shames the mother." A man 
 shall see, where there is a house full of children, 
 one or two of the eldest respected, and the youngest 
 made wantons ; but in the midst some that are as 
 it were forgotten, who, many times, nevertheless, 
 
22 ESSAYS. 
 
 prove the best. The illiberality of parents, in al- 
 lowance towards their children, is a harmful error, 
 makes them base ; acquaints them with shifts ; 
 makes them sort with mean company ; and makes 
 them surfeit more when they come to plenty : and 
 therefore the proof is best when men keep their 
 authority towards their children, but not their purse. 
 Men have a foolish manner (both parents, and 
 schoolmasters, and servants,) in creating and breed- 
 ing* an emulation between brothers during child- 
 hood, which many times sorteth to discord when 
 they are men, and disturbeth families. The Italians 
 make little difference between children and ne- 
 phews, or near kinsfolks ; but so they be of the 
 lump, they care not, though they pass not through 
 their own body; and, to say truth, in nature it is 
 much a like matter ; insomuch that we see a ne- 
 phew sometimes resembleth an uncle, or a kinsman, 
 more -than his own parents, as the blood happens. 
 Let parents choose betimes the vocations and courses 
 they mean their children should take, for then they 
 are most flexible ; and let them not too much apply 
 themselves to the disposition of their children, as 
 thinking they will take best to that which they 
 have most mind to. It is true, that if the affection, 
 or aptness of the children be extraordinary, then it 
 is good not to cross it ; but generally the precept 
 is good, " optimum elige, suave et facile illud faciet 
 consuetudo." — Younger brothers are commonly for- 
 tunate, but seldom or never where the elder are dis- 
 inherited. 
 
23 
 
 
 VIII. OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE, 
 
 HE that hath wife and children hath given 
 hostages to fortune ; for they are impedi- 
 ments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mis- 
 chief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest 
 merit for the public, have proceeded from the un- 
 married or childless men ; which, both in affection 
 and means, have married and endowed the public. 
 Yet it were great reason that those that have chil- 
 dren should have greatest care of future times, unto 
 which they know they must transmit their dearest 
 pledges. Some there are, who, though they lead 
 a single life, yet their thoughts do end with them- 
 selves, and account future times impertinences; 
 nay, there are some other that account wife and 
 children but as bills of charges ; nay more, there 
 are some foolish rich covetous men, that take a pride 
 in having no children, because they may be thought 
 so much the richer ; for, perhaps, they have heard 
 some talk, " Such an one is a great rich man," and 
 another except to it, " Yea, but he hath a great 
 charge of children; " as if it were an abatement to 
 his riches : but the most ordinary cause of a single 
 life is liberty, especially in certain self- pleasing and 
 humorous minds, which are so sensible of every 
 restraint, as they will go near to think their girdles 
 
24 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 and garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried 
 men are best friends, best masters, best servants ; 
 but not always best subjects; for they are light 
 to run away ; and almost all fugitives are of that 
 condition. A single life doth well with churchmen, 
 for charity will hardly water the ground where it 
 must first fill a pool. It is indifferent for judges 
 and magistrates ; for if they be facile and corrupt, 
 you shall have a servant five times worse than a 
 wife. For soldiers, I find the generals commonly, 
 in their hortatives, put men in mind of their wives 
 and children ; and I think the despising of marriage 
 among the Turks maketh the vulgar soldier more 
 base. Certainly wife and children are a kind of 
 discipline of humanity; and single men, though 
 they may be many times more charitable, because 
 their means are less exhaust, yet, on the other side, 
 they are more cruel and hardhearted (good to make 
 severe inquisitors,) because their tenderness is not 
 so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, 
 and therefore constant, are commonly loving hus- 
 bands, as was said of Ulysses, " vetulam suam prce- 
 tulit immortalitati." Chaste women are often proud 
 and froward as presuming upon the merit of their 
 chastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of chas- 
 tity and obedience, in the wife, if she think her 
 husband wise ; which she will never do if she find 
 him jealous. Wives are young men's mistresses, 
 companions for middle age, and old men's nurses; 
 so as a man may have a quarrel to marry when he 
 
OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE. 25 
 
 will : but yet he was reputed one of the wise men, 
 that made answer to the question when a man should 
 marry : — "A young" man not yet, an elder man not 
 at all." It is often seen, that bad husbands have 
 very good wives ; whether it be that it raiseth the 
 price of their husband's kindness when it comes, or 
 that the wives take a pride in their patience ; but 
 this never fails, if the bad husbands were of their 
 own choosing, against their friends' consent, for 
 then they will be sure to make good their own folly. 
 
 IX. OF ENVY. 
 
 THERE be none of the affections which have 
 been noted to fascinate, or bewitch, but love 
 and envy : they both have vehement wishes ; they 
 frame themselves readily into imaginations and 
 suggestions ; and they come easily into the eye, 
 especially upon the presence of the objects, which 
 are the points that conduce to fascination, if any 
 such thing there be. We see, likewise, the scrip- 
 ture calleth envy an evil eye ; and the astrologers 
 call the evil influences of the stars evil aspects ; so 
 that still there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the 
 act of envy, an ejaculation, or irradiation of the 
 eye : nay, some have been so curious as to note, 
 that the times, when the stroke or percussion of 
 an envious eye doth most hurt, are, when the party 
 
26 ESSAYS. 
 
 envied is beheld in glory or triumph ; for that sets 
 an edge upon envy : and besides, at such times, 
 the spirits of the person envied do come forth most 
 into the outward parts, and so meet the blow. 
 
 But leaving these curiosities (though not un- 
 worthy to be thought on in fit place), we will handle 
 what persons are apt to envy others ; what per- 
 sons are most subject to be envied themselves : and 
 what is the difference between public and private 
 envy. 
 
 A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever en- 
 vieth virtue in others ; for men's minds will either 
 feed upon their own good, or upon others' evil ; 
 and who wanteth the one will prey upon the other ; 
 and whoso is out of hope to attain to another's vir- 
 tue, will seek to come at even hand, by depressing 
 another's fortune. 
 
 A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly 
 envious ; for to know much of other men's matters 
 cannot be, because all that ado may concern his 
 own estate ; therefore it must needs be that he 
 taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking upon the 
 fortunes of others : neither can he that mindeth 
 but his own business find much matter for envy ; 
 for envy is a gadding passion, and walketh the 
 streets, and doth not keep home : " Non est cu- 
 riosus, quin idem sit malevolus." 
 
 Men of noble birth are noted to be envious to- 
 wards new men when they rise ; for the distance 
 is altered ; and it is like a deceit of the eye, that 
 
OF ENVY. 27 
 
 when others come on they think themselves go 
 back. 
 
 Deformed persons and eunuchs, and old men and 
 bastards, are envious : for he that cannot possibly 
 mend his own case, will do what he can to impair 
 another's ; except these defects light upon a very 
 brave and heroical nature, which thinketh to make 
 his natural wants part of his honour; in that it 
 should be said, "That an eunuch, or a lame man, 
 did such great matters ;" affecting the honour of 
 a miracle : as it was in Narses the eunuch, and 
 Agesilaus and Tamerlane, that w T ere lame men. 
 
 The same is the case of men who rise after cala- 
 mities and misfortunes ; for they are as men fallen 
 out with the times, and think other men's harms 
 a redemption of their own sufferings. 
 
 They that desire to excel in too many matters, 
 out of levity and vain glory, are ever envious, for 
 they cannot want work : it being impossible, but 
 many, in some one of those things, should surpass 
 them ; which was the character of Adrian the em- 
 peror, that mortally envied poets and painters, and 
 artificers in works, wherein he had a vein to excel. 
 
 Lastly, near kinsfolks and fellows in office, and 
 those that have been bred together, are more apt 
 to envy their equals when they are raised ; for it 
 doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes, and 
 pointeth at them, and cometh oftener into their re- 
 membrance, and incurreth likewise more into the 
 note of others ; and envy ever redoubleth from 
 
28 ESSAYS. 
 
 speech and fame. Cain's envy was the more vile 
 and malignant towards his brother Abel, because 
 when his sacrifice was better accepted, there was 
 no body to look on. Thus much for those that are 
 apt to envy. 
 
 Concerning those that are more or less subject 
 to envy. First, persons of eminent virtue, when 
 they are advanced, are less envied; for their fortune 
 seemeth but due unto them ; and no man envieth 
 the payment of a debt, but rewards and liberality 
 rather. Again, envy is ever joined with the com- 
 paring of a man's self; and where there is no 
 comparison, no envy ; and therefore kings are not 
 envied but by kings. Nevertheless, it is to be 
 noted, that unworthy persons are most envied at 
 their first coming in, and afterwards overcome it 
 better; whereas, contrariwise, persons of worth and 
 merit are most envied when their fortune continueth 
 long; for by that time, though their virtue be the 
 same, yet it hath not the same lustre, for fresh men 
 grow up that darken it. 
 
 Persons of noble blood are less envied in their 
 rising; for it seemeth but right done to their birth : 
 besides, there seemeth not much added to their for- 
 tune; and envy is as the sunbeams, that beat hotter 
 upon a bank, or steep rising ground, than upon a 
 flat; and, for the same reason, those that are ad- 
 vanced by degrees are less envied than those that 
 are advanced suddenly, and " per saltum." 
 
 Those that have joined with their honour great 
 
OF ENVY. 29 
 
 travels, cares, or perils, are less subject to envy; 
 for men think that they earn their honours hardly, 
 and pity them sometimes ; and pity ever healeth 
 envy : wherefore you shall observe, that the more 
 deep and sober sort of politic persons, in their great- 
 ness, are ever bemoaning* themselves what a life 
 they lead, chanting a " quanta patimur ;" not that 
 they feel it so, but only to abate the edge of envy: 
 but this is to be understood of business that is laid 
 upon men, and not such as they call unto them- 
 selves ; for nothing increaseth envy more than an 
 unnecessary and ambitious engrossing of business ; 
 and nothing doth extinguish envy more than for a 
 great person to preserve all other inferior officers 
 in their full rights and pre-eminences of their 
 places ; for, by that means, there be so many 
 screens between him and envy. 
 
 Above all, those are most subject to envy, which 
 carry the greatness of their fortunes in an insolent 
 and proud manner : being never well but while they 
 are showing* how great they are, either by outward 
 pomp, or by triumphing over all opposition or com- 
 petition : whereas wise men will rather do sacrifice 
 to envy, in suffering themselves, sometimes of pur- 
 pose, to be crossed and overborne in things that do 
 not much concern them. Notwithstanding so much 
 is true, that the carriage of greatness in a plain and 
 open manner (so it be without arrogancy and vain 
 glory), doth draw less envy than if it be in a more 
 crafty and cunning fashion ; for in that course a 
 man doth but disavow fortune, and seemeth to be 
 
30 ESSAYS. 
 
 conscious of his own want in worth, and doth but 
 teach others to envy him. 
 
 Lastly, to conclude this part, as we said in the 
 beginning that the act of envy had somewhat in it of 
 witchcraft, so there is no other cure of envy but the 
 cure of witchcraft ; and that is, to remove the lot 
 (as they call it), and to lay it upon another; for 
 which purpose, the wiser sort of great persons bring 
 in ever upon the stage somebody upon whom to 
 derive the envy that would come upon themselves ; 
 sometimes upon ministers and servants, sometimes 
 upon colleagues and associates, and the like ; and, 
 for that turn, there are never wanting some persons 
 of violent and undertaking natures, who, so they 
 may have power and business, will take it at any 
 cost. 
 
 Now, to speak of public envy : there is yet some 
 good in public envy, whereas in private there is 
 none; for public envy is as an ostracism, that 
 eclipseth men when they grow too great : and 
 therefore it is a bridle also to great ones to keep 
 them within bounds. 
 
 This envy, being in the Latin word " invidia," 
 goeth in the modern languages by the name of dis 
 contentment ; of which we shall speak in handling 
 sedition. It is a disease in a state like to infection 
 for as infection spreadeth upon that which is sound, 
 and tainteth it ; so, when envy is gotten once into 
 a state, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, 
 and turneth them into an ill odour ; and therefore 
 there is little won by intermingling of plausible 
 
OF ENVY. 31 
 
 actions ; for that doth argue but a weakness and fear 
 of envy, which hurteth so much the more, as it is 
 likewise usual in infections, which, if you fear 
 them, you call them upon you. 
 
 This public envy seemeth to beat chiefly upon 
 principal officers or ministers, rather than upon kings 
 and estates themselves. But this is a sure rule, 
 that if the envy upon the minister be great, when 
 the cause of it in him is small ; or if. the envy 
 be general in a manner upon all the ministers of 
 an estate, then the envy (though hidden) is truly 
 upon the state itself. And so much of public envy 
 or discontentment, and the difference thereof from 
 private envy, which was handled in the first place. 
 
 We will add this in general, touching the affec- 
 tion of envy, that of all other affections it is the 
 most importune and continual ; for of other affec- 
 tions there is occasion given but now and then ; 
 and therefore it was well said, " Invidia festos dies 
 non agit :" for it is ever working upon some or 
 other. And it is also noted, that love and envy do 
 make a man pine, which other affections do not, 
 because they are not so continual. It is also the 
 vilest affection, and the most depraved ; for which 
 cause it is the proper attribute of the devil r who 
 is called " The envious man, that soweth tares 
 amongst the wheat by night ;" as it always cometh 
 to pass/that envy worketh subtilly, and in the dark, 
 and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the 
 wheat. 
 
32 ESSAYS. 
 
 X. OF LOVE. 
 
 THE stage is more beholding to love, than the 
 life of man ; for as to the stage, love is ever 
 matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies ; 
 but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like 
 a siren, sometimes like a fury. You may observe, 
 that amongst all the great and worthy persons 
 (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or 
 recent,) there is not one that hath been transported 
 to the mad degree of love, which shews, that great 
 spirits and great business do keep out this weak 
 passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus 
 Antonius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, 
 and Appius Claudius, the decemvir and lawgiver ; 
 whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, 
 and inordinate ; but the latter was an austere and 
 wise man : and therefore it seems (though rarely,) 
 that love can find entrance, not only into an open 
 heart, but also into a heart well fortified, if watch 
 be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epicurus, 
 " Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus ;" as 
 if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and 
 all noble objects, should do nothing but kneel 
 before a little idol, and make himself a subject, 
 though not of the mouth (as beasts are,) yet of the 
 eye, which was given him for higher purposes. It 
 is a strange thing to note the excess of this passion, 
 
OF LOVE. J J 
 
 and how it braves the nature and value of things 
 by this, that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole, 
 is comely in nothing but in love : neither is it merely 
 in the phrase ; for whereas it hath been well said, 
 "That the arch flatterer, with whom all the petty 
 flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self;" cer- 
 tainly the lover is more ; for there was never proud 
 man thought so absurdly well of himself as the lover 
 doth of the person loved ; and therefore it was well 
 said, " That it is impossible to love and to be wise." 
 Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, 
 and not to the party loved, but to the loved most of 
 all, except the love be reciprocal ; for it is a true 
 rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the re- 
 ciprocal, or with an inward, and secret contempt ; 
 by how much the more men ought to beware of 
 this passion, which loseth not only other things, 
 but itself. As for the other losses the poet's relation 
 doth well figure them: "That he that preferred 
 Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas ; for 
 whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection, 
 quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion 
 hath his floods in the very times of weakness, which 
 are, great prosperity and great adversity, though 
 this latter hath been less observed ; both which 
 times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and 
 therefore shew it to be the child of folly. They do 
 best, w T ho, if they cannot but admit love, yet make it 
 keep quarter, and sever it wholly from their serious 
 affairs and actions of life : for if it check once with 
 p 
 
34 ESSAYS. 
 
 business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh 
 men that they can no ways be true to their own 
 ends. I know not how, but martial men are given 
 to love : I think it is, but as they are given to 
 wine ; for perils commonly ask to be paid in plea- 
 sures. There is in man's nature a secret inclination 
 and motion towards love of others, which, if it be 
 not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally 
 spread itself towards many, and maketh men be- 
 come humane and charitable, as it is seen some- 
 times in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind ; 
 friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love cor- 
 rupteth and embaseth it. 
 
 XI. OF GREAT PLACE. 
 
 MEN in great place are thrice servants; ser- 
 vants of the sovereign or state, servants of 
 fame, and servants of business ; so as they have 
 no freedom, neither in their persons, nor in their 
 actions, nor in their times. It is a strange desire 
 to seek power and to lose liberty ; or to seek power 
 over others, and to lose power over a man's self. 
 The rising unto place is laborious, and by pains 
 men come to greater pains ; and it is sometimes 
 base, and by indignities men come to dignities. 
 The standing is slippery, and the regress is either 
 a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a me- 
 
OF GREAT PLACE. 35 
 
 lancholy thing : " Cum non sis qui fueris, non esse 
 cur velis vivere." Nay, retire men cannot when 
 they would, neither will they when it were reason; 
 but are impatient of privateness even in age and 
 sickness, which require the shadow; like old towns- 
 men, that will be still sitting at their street door, 
 though thereby they offer age to scorn. Certainly 
 great persons had need to borrow other men's opi- 
 nions to think themselves happy ; for if they judge 
 by their own feeling, they cannot find it: but if 
 they think with themselves what other men think 
 of them, and that other men would fain be as they 
 are, then they are happy as it were by report, when, 
 perhaps, they find the contrary within : for they 
 are the first that find their own griefs, though they 
 be the last that find their own faults. Certainly 
 men in great fortunes are strangers to themselves, 
 and while they are in the puzzle of business they 
 have no time to tend their health either of body or 
 mind : " Illi mors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis 
 omnibus, ignotus moritur sibi." In place there is 
 license to do good and evil ; whereof the latter is 
 a curse : for in evil the best condition is not to 
 will ; the second not to can. But power to do 
 good is the true and lawful end of aspiring ; for 
 good thoughts (though God accept them), yet to- 
 wards men are little better than good dreams, except 
 they be put in act; and that cannot be without 
 power and place, as the vantage and commanding 
 ground. Merit and good works is the end of man's 
 

 discharge of thy place set before thee the ht 
 
 _.- f=: :.- ir=: --- - ' - ' ---- '-'--- 
 of those that hare carried tlwieliei ill in the 
 aae place ; not to se t off thyself by taxing their 
 Memory, but to direct thyself what to avoid. — 
 ~ -: :_ " .T.-ri.. - -.:/.:.: :\~^— ;: ^mii. ::' 
 Sail times and persons ; bat yet se t it down to 
 :o create good jm.ndf.ifi is to fol- 
 Rednee things to the first institution, ami 
 herein and how they hare degenerated; 
 bat yet ask counsel of both times; of the ancient 
 
 -_:_, -: ; := : ^ :i _ ::' -;.. '. .".: ::i: -:_:- :i 
 fittest. Seek to make thy coarse regnlar, that men 
 may know beforehand what they may expect ; bat 
 he not too positive ami peremptory; ami express 
 thys t kem thoa di^io s tsi from thy rale. 
 
 ?.:.-: t - : : _ - ■ - - \ - - • --.: i:* 1:^5- 
 - 1, : _->L:.:::r. : iz.: r.-:_-: .-_r_r v." :._•:_: ; 
 in silence, ami " de facto," than raare it with claims I 
 
 .T„j-r ?r™ — - ^-- _-- -:z :-.:.•-:: .-- 
 
OF GREAT PLACE. 37 
 
 in chief than to be busy in all. Embrace and in- 
 vite helps and advices touching- the execution of 
 thy place ; and do not drive away such as bring 
 thee information as meddlers, but accept of them 
 in good part. The vices of authority are chiefly 
 four; delays, corruption, roughness, and facility. 
 For delays give easy access ; keep times appointed ; 
 go through with that which is in hand, and inter- 
 lace not business but of necessity. For corruption. 
 do not only bind thine own hands or thy servant's 
 hands from taking, but bind the hands of suitors 
 also from offering; for integrity used doth the one; 
 but integrity professed, and with a manifest detes- 
 tation of bribery, doth the other ; and avoid not 
 only the fault, but the suspicion. Whosoever is 
 found variable, and changeth manifestly without 
 manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption : 
 therefore, always when thou changest thine opi- 
 nion or course, profess it plainly, and declare it. 
 together with the reasons that move thee to change, 
 and do not think to steal it. A servant or a fa- 
 vourite, if he be inward, and no other apparent 
 cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by- 
 way to close corruption. For roughness, it is a 
 needless cause of discontent : severity breedeth 
 fear, but roughness breedeth hate. Even reproofs 
 from authority ought to be grave, and not taunting. 
 As for facility, it is worse than bribery; for bribe- 
 come but now and then ; but if importunity or idle 
 respects lead a man, he shall never be without ; as 
 
38 ESSAYS. 
 
 Solomon saith, "To respect persons is not good, 
 for such a man will transgress for a piece of bread." 
 It is most true that was anciently spoken. "A 
 place sheweth the man ; and it sheweth some to 
 the better and some to the worse :" " omnium con- 
 sensu capax imperii, nisi imperasset," saith Taci- 
 tus of Galba; but of Vespasian he saith, " solus 
 imperantium, Vespasianus mutatus in melius ;" 
 though the one was meant of sufficiency, the other 
 of manners and affection. It is an assured sign 
 of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honour 
 amends ; for honour is, or should be, the place of 
 virtue ; and as in nature things move violently to 
 their place, and calmly in their place, so virtue in 
 ambition is violent, in authority settled and calm. 
 All rising to great place is by a winding stair ; 
 and if there be factions, it is good to side a man's 
 self whilst he is in the rising, and to balance him- 
 self when he is placed. Use the memory of thy 
 predecessor fairly and tenderly ; for if thou dost 
 not, it is a debt will sure be paid when thou art 
 gone. If thou have colleagues, respect them; 
 and rather call them when they look not for it, 
 than exclude them when they hare reason to look 
 to be called. Be not too sensible or too remem- 
 bering of thy place in conversation and private 
 answers to suitors ; but let it rather be said, 
 " When he sits in place he is another man." 
 
39 
 
 XII. OF BOLDNESS. 
 
 IT is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy 
 a wise man's consideration. Question was asked 
 of Demosthenes what was the chief part of an ora- 
 tor ? he answered, action : what next ? action: what 
 next again ? action. He said it that knew it best 
 and had by nature himself no advantage in that he 
 commended. A strange thing, that that part of an 
 orator which is but superficial, and rather the virtue 
 of a player, should be placed so high above those 
 other noble parts of invention, elocution, and the 
 rest; nay almost alone, as if it were all in all. But 
 the reason is plain. There is in human nature gene- 
 rally more of the fool than of the wise ; and there- 
 fore those faculties by which the foolish part of 
 men's minds is taken, are most potent. Wonderful 
 like is the case of boldness in civil business ; what 
 first ? boldness : what second and third ? boldness : 
 And yet boldness is a child of ignorance and base- 
 ness, far inferior to other parts : but nevertheless, 
 it doth fascinate, and bind hand and foot those that 
 are either shallow in judgment or weak in courage, 
 which are the greatest part : yea, and prevaileth 
 with wise men at weak times : therefore we see it 
 hath done wonders in popular states, but with se- 
 nates and princes less ; and more, ever upon the 
 
40 ESSAYS. 
 
 first entrance of bold persons into action than soon 
 after; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise. 
 Surely as there are mountebanks for the natural body, 
 so are there mountebanks for the politic body ; men 
 that undertake great cures', and perhaps have been 
 lucky in two or three experiments, but want the 
 grounds of science, and therefore cannot hold out: 
 nay, you shall see a bold fellow many times do 
 Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the people 
 believe that he would call a hill to him, and from 
 the top of it offer up his prayers for the observers 
 of his law. The people assembled: Mahomet called 
 the hill to come to him again and again; and when 
 the hill stood still, he was never a whit abashed, 
 but said, " If the hill will not come to Mahomet, 
 Mahomet will go to the hill." So these men, when 
 they have promised great matters and failed most 
 shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of 
 boldness) they will but slight it over, and make a 
 turn, and no more ado. Certainly to men of great 
 judgment, bold persons are a sport to behold; nay, 
 and to the vulgar also boldness hath somewhat of 
 the ridiculous ; for if absurdity be the subject of 
 laughter, doubt you not but great boldness is seldom 
 without some absurdity ; especially it is a sport to 
 see when a bold fellow is out of countenance, for 
 that puts his face into a most shrunken and wooden 
 posture as needs it must; for in bashfulness the 
 spirits do a little go and come ; but with bold men, 
 upon like occasion, they stand at a stay ; like a stale 
 
OF BOLDNESS. 41 
 
 at chess, where it is no mate, but yet the game can- 
 not stir : but this last were fitter for a satire than 
 for a serious observation. This is well to be weighed, 
 that boldness is ever blind; for it seeth not dangers 
 and inconveniences : therefore it is ill in counsel, 
 good in execution ; so that the right use of bold 
 persons is, that they never command in chief, but 
 be seconds and under the direction of others ; for 
 in counsel it is good to see dangers, and in execu- 
 tion not to see them except they be very great. 
 
 XIII. OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS 
 OF NATURE. 
 
 I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of 
 the weal of men, which is that the Grecians 
 call Philanthropia ; and the word humanity (as it 
 is used), is a little too light to express it. Good- 
 ness I call the habit, and goodness of nature the 
 inclination. This of all virtues and dignities of the 
 mind, is the greatest, being the character of the 
 Deity : and without it man is a busy, mischievous, 
 wretched thing, no better than a kind of vermin. 
 Goodness answers to the theological virtue charity, 
 and admits no excess but error. The desire of 
 power in excess caused the angels to fall ; the de- 
 sire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall : but 
 in charity there is no excess, neither can angel or 
 
42 ESSAYS. 
 
 man come in danger by it. The inclination to 
 goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature of man ; 
 insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it will 
 take unto other living creatures ; as it is seen in 
 the Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are kind 
 to beasts, and give alms to dogs and birds ; inso- 
 much, as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in 
 Constantinople had like to have been stoned for 
 gagging in a waggishness a long-billed fowl. Er- 
 rors indeed, in this virtue, of goodness or charity, 
 may be committed. The Italians have an ungra- 
 cious proverb, "Tanto buon che val niente;" " So 
 good, that he is good for nothing: " and one of the 
 doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, had the con- 
 fidence to put in writing, almost in plain terms, 
 " That the Christian faith had given up good men 
 in prey to those that are tyrannical and unjust ; " 
 which he spake, because, indeed, there was never 
 law or sect or opinion did so much magnify good- 
 ness as the Christian religion doth : therefore, to 
 avoid the scandal and the danger both, it is good 
 to take knowledge of the errors of a habit so ex- 
 cellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not 
 in bondage to their faces or fancies ; for that is but 
 facility or softness, which taketh an honest mind 
 prisoner. Neither give thou JEsop's cock a gem, 
 who would be better pleased and happier if he had 
 had a barley-corn. The example of God teacheth 
 the lesson truly ; " He sendeth his rain, and maketh 
 his sun to shine upon the just and the unjust ;" 
 
 I 
 
OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OE NATURE. 43 
 
 but he doth not rain wealth, nor shine honour and 
 virtues upon men equally : common benefits are to 
 be communicate with all, but peculiar benefits with 
 choice. And beware how in making the portraiture 
 thou breakest the pattern : for divinity maketh the 
 love of ourselves the pattern: the love of our neigh- 
 bours but the portraiture : " Sell all thou hast and 
 give it to the poor, and follow me:" but sell not 
 all thou hast except thou come and follow me ; that 
 is, except thou have a vocation wherein thou mayest 
 do as much good with little means as with great ; 
 for otherwise, in feeding the streams, thou driest 
 the fountain. Neither is there only a habit of good- 
 ness directed by right reason ; but there is in some 
 men, even in nature, a disposition towards it; as, 
 on the other side, there is a natural malignity : for 
 there be that in their nature do not affect the good 
 of others. The lighter sort of malignity turneth 
 but to a crossness, or frowardness, or aptness to 
 oppose, or difficileness, or the like ; but the deeper 
 sort to envy, and mere mischief. Such men in 
 other men's calamities, are, as it were, in season, 
 and are ever on the loading part : not so good as 
 the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, but like flies 
 that are still buzzing upon any thing that is raw ; 
 misanthropi, that make it their practice to bring 
 men to the bough, and yet have never a tree for 
 the purpose in their gardens, as Timon had : such 
 dispositions are the very errors of human nature, 
 and yet they are the fittest timber to make great 
 
44 ESSAYS. 
 
 politics of; like to knee timber, that is good for 
 ships that are ordained to be tossed, but not for 
 building houses that shall stand firm. The parts 
 and signs of goodness are many. If a man be gra- 
 cious and courteous to strangers, it shows he is a 
 citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island 
 cut off from other lands, but a continent that joins 
 to them: if he be compassionate towards the afflic- 
 tions of others, it shows that his heart is like the 
 noble tree that is wounded itself when it gives the 
 balm : if he easily pardons and remits offences, it 
 shows that his mind is planted above injuries, so 
 that he cannot be shot : if he be thankful for small 
 benefits, it shows that he weighs men's minds, and 
 not their trash : but, above all, if he have St. Paul's 
 perfection, that he w T ould wish to be an anathema 
 from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it 
 shows much of a divine nature, and a kind of con 
 formity with Christ himself. 
 
 XIV. OF NOBILITY. 
 
 WE will speak of nobility first as a portion of 
 an estate, then as a condition of particular 
 persons. A monarchy, where there is no nobility 
 at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny, as that 
 of the Turks ; for nobility attempers sovereignty, 
 and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside 
 
OF NOBILITY. 45 
 
 from the line royal : but for democracies they need 
 it not ; and they are commonly more quiet and less 
 subject to sedition, than where there are stirps of 
 nobles ; for men's eyes are upon the business, and 
 not upon the persons ; or if upon the persons,. it is 
 for the business sake, as fittest, and not for flags 
 and pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, not- 
 withstanding their diversity of religion and of can- 
 tons ; for utility is their bond, and not respects. 
 The united provinces of the Low Countries in their 
 government excel ; for where there is an equality 
 the consultations are more indifferent, and the pay- 
 ments and tributes more cheerful. A great and 
 potent nobility addeth majesty to a monarch, but 
 diminisheth power, and putteth life and spirit into 
 the people, but presseth their fortune. It is well 
 when nobles are not too great for sovereignty nor 
 for justice ; and yet maintained in that height, as 
 the insolency of inferiors may be broken upon them 
 before it come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. 
 A numerous nobility causeth poverty and inconve- 
 nience in a state, for it is a surcharge of expense ; 
 and besides, iC being of necessity that many of 
 the nobility fall in time to be weak in fortune, it 
 maketh a kind of disproportion between honour and 
 means. 
 
 As for nobility in particular persons, it is a re- 
 verend thing to see an ancient castle or building 
 not in decay, or to see a fair timber tree sound and 
 perfect ; how much more to behold an ancient no- 
 
46 ESSAYS. 
 
 ble family, which hath stood against the waves and j 
 weathers of time ? for new nobility is but the act 
 of power, but ancient nobility is the act of time. \ 
 Those that are first raised to nobility are commonly i 
 more virtuous, but less innocent, than their de- 
 scendants ; for there is rarely any rising but by a 
 commixture of good and evil arts ; but it is reason 
 the memory of their virtues remain to their poste- ; 
 rity, and their faults die with themselves. Nobility i* 
 of birth commonly abateth industry ; and he that 
 is not industrious, envieth him that is ; besides, no- 
 ble persons cannot go much higher ; and he that j 
 standeth at a stay when others rise, can hardly 
 avoid motions of envy. On the other side, nobility 
 extinguisheth the passive envy from others towards 
 them, because they are in possession of honour. 
 Certainly, kings that have able men of their no- 
 bility shall find ease in employing them, and a bet- 
 ter slide into their business ; for people naturally 
 bend to them as born in some sort to command. 
 
 XV. OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 
 
 SHEPHERDS of people had need know the 
 calendars of tempests in state, which are com- 
 monly greatest when things grow to equality ; as 
 natural tempests are greatest about the equinoctia ; 
 and as there are certain hollow blasts of wind and 
 
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 47 
 
 secret swellings of seas before a tempest, so are 
 there in states : 
 
 — " Ille etiam cascos instare tumultus 
 
 Saepe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella." 
 
 Libels and licentious discourses against the state, 
 when they are frequent and open ; and in like sort 
 false news often running up and down, to the dis- 
 advantage of the state, and hastily embraced, are 
 amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the 
 pedigree of Fame, saith she was sister to the giants : 
 
 " 111am Terra parens, ira irritata Deorum, 
 Extremam (ut perhibent) Cceo Enceladoque sororem 
 Progenuit." 
 
 As if fames were the relics of seditions past ; but 
 they are no less indeed the preludes of seditions to 
 come. Howsoever he noteth it right, that sedi- 
 tious tumults and seditious fames differ no more 
 but as brother and sister, masculine and feminine ; 
 especially if it come to that, that the best actions 
 of a state, and the most plausible, and which ought 
 to give greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, 
 and traduced : for that shews the envy great, as 
 Tacitus saith, " conflata, magna invidia, seu bene, 
 seu male, gesta premunt." Neither doth it follow, 
 that because these fames are a sign of troubles, 
 that the suppressing of them with too much severity 
 should be a remedy of troubles; for the despising 
 of them many times checks them best, and the 
 i; going about to stop them doth but make a wonder 
 A long lived. Also that kind of obedience, which 
 
48 ESSAYS. 
 
 Tacitus speaketh of, is to be held suspected : " Erant 
 in officio, sed tamen qui mallent mandata imperan- 
 tium interpretari, quam exequi;" disputing ex- 
 cusing, cavilling upon mandates and directions, is 
 a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay of dis- 
 obedience ; especially if in those disputings they 
 which are for the direction speak fearfully and ten- 
 derly, and those that are against it audaciously. 
 
 Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, 
 that ought to be common parents, make themselves 
 as a party, and lean to a side ; it is, as a boat that 
 is overthrown by uneven weight on the one side : 
 as was well seen in the time of Henry the Third 
 of France ; for first himself entered league for the 
 extirpation of the Protestants, and presently after 
 the same league was turned upon himself: for 
 when the authority of princes is made but an ac- 
 cessary to a cause, and that there be other bands 
 that tie faster than the band of sovereignty, kings 
 begin to be put almost out of possession. 
 
 Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions, 
 are carried openly and audaciously, it is a sign the 
 reverence of government is lost ; for the motions 
 of the greatest persons in a government ought to 
 be as the motions of the planets under " primum 
 mobile," (according to the old opinion,) which is, 
 that every of them is carried swiftly by the highest 
 motion, and softly in their own motion ; and, there- 
 fore, when great ones in their own particular mo- 
 tion move violently, and as Tacitus expresseth it 
 
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 49 
 
 well, " Liberius quam ut imperantium meminis- 
 sent," it is a sign the orbs are out of frame : for 
 reverence is that wherewith princes are girt from 
 God, who threateneth the dissolving thereof; 
 " solvam cingula regum." 
 
 So when any of the four pillars of government 
 are mainly shaken or weakened (which are reli- 
 gion, justice, counsel, and treasure), men had need 
 to pray for fair weather. But let us pass from this 
 part of predictions (concerning which, neverthe- 
 less, more light may be taken from that which 
 followeth), and let us speak first of the materials of 
 seditions, then of the motives of them, and thirdly 
 of the remedies. 
 
 Concerning the materials of seditions, it is a 
 thing well to be considered ; for the surest way to 
 prevent seditions (if the times do bear it), is to take 
 away the matter of them ; for if there be fuel 
 prepared, it is hard to tell whence the spark shall 
 come that shall set it on fire. The matter of sedi- 
 tions is of two kinds, much poverty and much dis- 
 contentment. It is certain, so many overthrown 
 estates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan noteth 
 well the state of Rome before the civil war, 
 
 " Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore fcenus, 
 Hinc concussa fides, et nrultis utile bellum." 
 
 This same " multis utile bellum, " is an assured 
 and infallible sign of a state disposed to seditions 
 and troubles ; and if this poverty and broken estate 
 
 E 
 
50 ESSAYS. 
 
 in the better sort be joined with a want and neces- 
 sity in the mean people, the danger is imminent 
 and great : for the rebellions of the belly are the 
 worst. As for discontentments, they are in the 
 politic body like to humours in the natural, which 
 are apt to gather a preternatural heat and to in- 
 flame ; and let no prince measure the danger of 
 them by this, whether they be just or unjust : for 
 that were to imagine people to be too reasonable, who 
 do often spurn at their own good ; nor yet by this, 
 whether the griefs whereupon they rise be in fact 
 great or small ; for they are the most dangerous 
 discontentments where the fear is greater than the 
 feeling : " Dolendi modus, timendi non item :" be- 
 sides, in great oppressions, the same things that 
 provoke the patience, do withal mate the courage ; 
 but in fears it is not so ; neither let any prince, or 
 state, be secure concerning discontentments be- 
 cause they have been often, or have been long, 
 and yet no peril hath ensued: for as it is true that 
 every vapour, or fame, doth not turn into a storm, 
 so it is nevertheless true, that storms, though they 
 blow over divers times, yet may fall at last ; and, 
 as the Spanish proverb noteth well, " The cord 
 breaketh at the last by the weakest pull." 
 
 The causes and motives of seditions are, inno- 
 vation in religion, taxes, alteration of laws and 
 customs, breaking of privileges, general oppres- 
 sion, advancement of unworthy persons, strangers, 
 dearths, disbanded soldiers, factions grown despe- 
 
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 51 
 
 rate ; and whatsoever in offending people joineth 
 and knitteth them in a common cause. 
 
 For the remedies, there may be some general 
 preservatives, whereof we will speak : as for the 
 just cure it must answer to the particular disease ; 
 and so be left to counsel rather than rule. 
 
 The first remedy, or prevention, is to remove, 
 by all means possible, that material cause of sedi- 
 tion whereof we spake, which is, want and poverty 
 in the estate ; to which purpose serveth the open- 
 ing and well-balancing of trade ; the cherishing of 
 manufactures ; the banishing of idleness ; the re- 
 pressing of waste and excess, by sumptuary laws ; 
 the improvement and husbanding of the soil ; the 
 regulating of prices of things vendible ; the mo- 
 derating of taxes and tributes, and the like. Gene- 
 rally, it is to be foreseen that the population of a 
 kingdom (especially if it be not mown down by 
 wars,) do not exceed the stock of the kingdom which 
 should maintain them : neither is the population 
 to be reckoned only by number ; for a smaller 
 number that spend more and earn less, do wear 
 out an estate sooner than a greater number that 
 live lower and gather more : therefore the multi- 
 plying of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in 
 an over proportion to the common people, doth 
 speedily bring a state to necessity : and so doth 
 likewise an overgrown clergy, for they bring no- 
 thing to the stock ; and, in like manner, when more 
 are bred scholars than preferments can take off. 
 
52 ESSAYS. 
 
 It is likewise to be remembered, that, forasmuch 
 as the increase of any estate must be upon the 
 foreigner (for whatsoever is somewhere gotten, is 
 somewhere lost,) there be but three things which 
 one nation selleth unto another; the commodity, 
 as nature yieldeth it ; the manufacture ; and the 
 vecture, or carriage ; so that, if these three wheels 
 go, wealth w T ill flow as in a spring tide. And it 
 cometh many times to pass, that " materiam su- 
 perabit opus," that the work and carriage is more 
 worth than the material, and enricheth a state 
 more : as is notably seen in the Low Countrymen, 
 who have the best mines above ground in the 
 world. 
 
 Above all things, good policy is to be used, that 
 the treasure and monies in a state be not gathered 
 into few hands ; for, otherwise, a state may have 
 a great stock, and yet starve : and money is like 
 muck, not good except it be spread. This is done 
 chiefly by suppressing, or, at the least, keeping a 
 strait hand upon the devouring trades of usury, 
 engrossing, great pasturages, and the like. 
 
 For removing discontentments, or, at least, the 
 danger of them, there is in every state (as we 
 know) two portions of subjects, the nobles and the 
 commonality. When one of these is discontent, 
 the danger is not great ; for common people are of 
 slow motion, if they be not excited by the greater 
 sort; and the greater sort are of small strength, 
 except the multitude be apt and ready to move of 
 
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 53 
 
 themselves : then is the danger, when the greater 
 sort do but wait for the troubling of the waters 
 amongst the meaner, that then they may declare 
 themselves. The poets feign that the rest of the 
 gods would have bound Jupiter, which he hearing 
 of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, with 
 his hundred hands, to come in to his aid : an em- 
 blem, no doubt, to show how safe it is for monarchs 
 to make sure of the good- will of common people. 
 
 To give moderate liberty for griefs and discon- 
 tentments to evaporate (so it be without too great 
 insolency or bravery,) is a safe way : for he that 
 turneth the humours back, and maketh the wound 
 bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers and per- 
 nicious imposthumations. 
 
 The part of Epimetheus might well become Pro- 
 metheus, in the case of discontentments, for there 
 is not a better provision against them. Epime- 
 theus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, at last shut 
 the lid, and kept hope in the bottom of the vessel. 
 Certainly, the politic and artificial nourishing and 
 entertaining of hopes, and carrying men from 
 hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotes against 
 the poison of discontentments : and it is a certain 
 sign of a wise government and proceeding, when 
 it can hold men's hearts by hopes, when it cannot 
 by satisfaction ; and when it can handle things in 
 such manner as no evil shall appear so peremp- 
 tory but that it hath some outlet of hope : which 
 is the less hard to do ; because both particular per- 
 
54 ESSAYS. 
 
 sons and factions are apt enough to flatter them- 
 selves, or at least to brave that, they believe not. 
 
 Also the foresight and prevention, that there be 
 no likely or fit head whereunto discontented per- 
 sons may resort, and under whom they may join, 
 is a known, but an excellent point of caution. I 
 understand a fit head to be one that hath greatness 
 and reputation, that hath confidence with the dis- 
 contented party, and upon whom they turn their 
 eyes, and that is thought discontented in his own 
 particular : which kind of persons are either to be 
 won and reconciled to the state, and that in a fast 
 and true manner ; or to be fronted with some other 
 of the same party that may oppose them, and so 
 divide the reputation. Generally the dividing and 
 breaking of all factions and combinations that are 
 adverse to the state, and setting them at distance, 
 or, at least, distrust amongst themselves, is not 
 one of the worst remedies ; for it is a desperate 
 case, if those that hold with the proceeding of the 
 state be full of discord and faction, and those that 
 are against it be entire and united. 
 
 I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, 
 which have fallen from princes, have given fire to 
 seditions. Caesar did himself infinite hurt in that 
 speech, " Sylla nescivit literas, non potuit dictare;" 
 for it did utterly cut off that hope which men had 
 entertained, that he would at one time or other 
 give over his dictatorship. Galba undid himself 
 by that speech, " legi a se militem, non emi ;" for 
 
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES. 55 
 
 it put the soldiers out of hope of the donative. 
 Probus, likewise, by that speech, " si vixero non 
 opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus ;" a 
 speech of great despair for the soldiers, and many 
 the like. Surely princes had need in tender mat- 
 ters and ticklish times, to beware what they say, 
 especially in these short speeches, which fly abroad 
 like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their 
 secret intentions ; for as for large discourses, they 
 are flat things, and not so much noted. 
 
 Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be 
 without some great person, one or rather more, of 
 military valour, near unto them, for the repressing 
 of seditions in their beginnings ; for without that, 
 there useth to be more trepidation in court upon 
 the first breaking out of troubles, than were fit ; 
 and the state runneth the danger of that which 
 Tacitus saith, " Atque is habitus animorum fuit, ut 
 pessimum facinus auderent pauci, plures vellent, 
 omnes paterentur :" but let such military persons 
 be assured, and well reputed of, rather than fac- 
 tious and popular ; holding also good correspon- 
 dence with the other great men in the state, or 
 else the remedy is worse than the disease. 
 
56 ESSAYS. 
 
 XVI. OF ATHEISM. 
 
 I HAD rather believe all the fables in the legend, 
 and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that 
 this universal frame is without a mind ; and, there- 
 fore, God never wrought miracle to convince athe- 
 ism, because his ordinary works convince it. It is 
 true, that a little philosophy inclineth man's mind 
 to atheism, but depth in philosophy bringeth men's 
 minds about to religion ; for while the mind of man 
 looketh upon second causes scattered, it may some- 
 times rest in them, and go no further ; but when it 
 beholdeth the chain of them confederate, and linked 
 together, it must needs fly to Providence and Deity : 
 nay, even that school which is most accused of 
 atheism doth most demonstrate religion : that is 
 the school of Leucippus, and Democritus, and Epi- 
 curus : for it is a thousand times more credible that 
 four mutable elements, and one immutable fifth 
 essence, duly and eternally placed, need no God, 
 than that an army of infinite small portions, or 
 seeds unplaced, should have produced this order 
 and beauty without a divine marshal. The scrip- 
 ture saith, "The fool hath said in his heart, there 
 is no God ;" it is not said, "The fool hath thought 
 in his heart ;" so as he rather saith it by rote to 
 himself, as that he would have, than that he can 
 
OF ATHEISM. 57 
 
 thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it ; for 
 none deny there is a God, but those for whom it 
 maketh that there were no God. It appeareth in 
 nothing more, that atheism is rather in the lip than 
 in the heart of man, than by this, that atheists will 
 ever be talking- of that their opinion, as if they 
 fainted in it within themselves, and would be glad 
 to be strengthened by the consent of others ; nay 
 more, you shall have atheists strive to get disciples, 
 as it fareth with other sects ; and, which is most of 
 all, you shall have of them that will suffer for atheism, 
 and not recant; whereas, if they did truly think 
 that there were no such thing as God, why should 
 they trouble themselves? Epicurus is charged, 
 that he did but dissemble for his credit's sake, when 
 he affirmed there were blessed natures, but such as 
 enjoyed themselves without having respect to the 
 government of the world ; wherein they say he did 
 temporize, though in secret he thought there was 
 no God : but certainly he is traduced, for his words 
 are noble and divine : " Non Deos vulgi negare pro- 
 fanum ; sed vulgi opiniones Diis applicare profa- 
 num." Plato could have said no more ; and, al- 
 though he had the confidence to deny the adminis- 
 tration, he had not the power to deny the nature. 
 The Indians of the west have names for their par- 
 ticular gods, though they have no name for God : 
 as if the heathens should have had the names Ju- 
 piter, Apollo, Mars, &c. but not the word Deus, 
 which shows that even those barbarous people have 
 
58 ESSAYS. 
 
 the notion, though they have not the latitude and 
 extent of it ; so that against atheists the very sa- 
 vages take part with the very subtlest philosophers. 
 The contemplative atheist is rare, a Diagoras, a 
 Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some others; and yet 
 they seem to be more than they are ; for that all 
 that impugn a received religion, or superstition, 
 are, by the adverse part, branded with the name of 
 atheists : but the great atheists indeed are hypo- 
 crites, which are ever handling holy things but 
 without feeling ; so as they must needs be cau- 
 terized in the end. The causes of atheism are, di- 
 visions in religion, if they be many; for any one 
 main division addeth zeal to both sides, but many 
 divisions introduce atheism : another is, scandal of 
 priests, when it is come to that which St. Bernard 
 saith, "Non est jam dicere, ut populus, sic sacer- 
 dos ; quia nee sic populus, ut sacerdos : " a third is, 
 custom of profane scoffing in holy matters, which 
 doth by little and little deface the reverence of re- 
 ligion ; and, lastly, learned times, specially with 
 peace and prosperity ; for troubles and adversities 
 do more bow men's minds to religion. They that 
 deny a God destroy man's nobility ; for certainly 
 man is of kin to the beast by his body ; and, if he 
 be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and 
 ignoble creature. It destroys likewise magnani- 
 mity, and the raising of human nature ; for take 
 an example of a dog, and mark what a generosity 
 and courage he will put on when he finds himself 
 
OF ATHEISM. 59 
 
 maintained by a man, who to him is instead of a 
 God, or " melior natura; " which courage is mani- 
 festly such as that creature, without that confidence 
 of a better nature than his own, could never attain. 
 So man, when he resteth and assureth himself upon 
 divine protection and favour, gathereth a force and 
 faith, which human nature in itself could not ob- 
 tain ; therefore, as atheism is in all respects hate- 
 ful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature of 
 the means to exalt itself above human frailty. As 
 it is in particular persons, so it is in nations : never 
 was there such a state for magnanimity as Rome ; 
 of this state hear what Cicero saith, " Quam volu- 
 mus, licet, Patres conscripti, nos amemus, tamen 
 nee numero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, nee calli- 
 ditate Pcenos, nee artibusGraecos, nee denique hoc 
 ipso hujus gentis et terrse domestico nativoque sensu 
 Italos ipsos et Latinos ; sed pietate, ac religione, 
 atque ac una sapientia, quod Deorum immortalium 
 numine omnia regi, gubernarique perspeximus om- 
 nes, gentes nationesque superavimus." 
 
 XVII. OF SUPERSTITION. 
 
 IT were better to have no opinion of God at ahV 
 than such an opinion as is unworthy of him ;) 
 for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely : and 
 certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity. 
 
60 ESSAYS. 
 
 Plutarch saith well to that purpose : " Surely," 
 saith he, " I had rather a great deal men should 
 say there was no such man at all as Plutarch, than 
 that they should say that there was one Plutarch, 
 that would 'eat his children as soon as they were 
 born;" as the poets speak of Saturn: and, as the 
 contumely is greater towards God, so the danger 
 is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a man to 
 sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to 
 reputation : all which may be guides to an outward 
 moral virtue, though religion were not; but super- 
 stition dismounts all these, and erecteth an abso- 
 lute monarchy in the minds of men : therefore 
 atheism did never perturb states ; for it makes men 
 wary of themselves, as looking no further, and we 
 see the times inclined to atheism (as the time of 
 Augustus Caesar) were civil times; but superstition 
 hath been the confusion of many states, and bring- 
 eth in a new "primum mobile, " that ravish eth all 
 the spheres of government. The master of super- 
 stition is the people, and in all superstition wise 
 men follow fools : and arguments are fitted to prac- 
 tice in a reversed order. It was gravely said, by 
 some of the prelates in the council of Trent, where 
 the doctrine of the schoolmen bare great sway, that 
 the schoolmen were like astronomers, which did 
 feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines 
 of orbs to save the phenomena, though they knew 
 there were no such things ; and, in like manner, 
 that the schoolmen had framed a number of subtle 
 
OF SUPERSTITION. 61 
 
 and intricate axioms and theorems, to save the 
 practice of the church. The causes of superstition 
 are, pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies; ex- 
 cess of outward and pharisaical holiness ; over great 
 reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the 
 church ; the stratagems of prelates for their own 
 ambition and lucre ; the favouring too much of 
 good intentions, which openeth the gate to con- 
 ceits and novelties ; the taking an aim at divine 
 matters by human, which cannot but breed mix- 
 ture of imaginations : and, lastly, barbarous times, 
 especially joined with calamities and disasters. 
 Superstition, without a veil, is a deformed thing; 
 for as it addeth deformity to an ape to be so like a 
 man, so the similitude of superstition to religion 
 makes it the more deformed : and, as wholesome 
 meat corrupteth to little worms, so good forms and 
 orders corrupt into a number of petty observances. 
 There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, 
 when men think to do best if they go furthest from 
 the superstition formerly received ; therefore care 
 would be had that (as it fareth in ill purgings) the 
 good be not taken away with the bad which com- 
 monly is done when the people is the reformer. 
 
62 ESSAYS. 
 
 XVIII. OF TRAVEL. 
 
 TRAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of 
 education ; in the elder, a part of experience. 
 He that travelleth into a country, before he hath 
 some entrance into the language, goeth to school, 
 and not to travel. That young men travel under 
 some tutor, or grave servant, I allow well ; so that 
 he be such a one that hath the language, and 
 hath been in the country before ; whereby he may 
 be able to tell them what things are worthy to be 
 seen in the country where they go, what acquaint- 
 ances they are to seek, what exercises or discipline 
 the place yieldeth ; for else young men shall go 
 hooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange 
 thing that, in sea voyages, where there is nothing 
 to be seen but sky and sea, men should make 
 diaries ; but in land travel, wherein so much is to 
 be observed, for the most part they omit it ; as if 
 chance were fitter to be registered than observa- 
 tion : let diaries, therefore, be brought in use. 
 The things to be seen and observed are, the courts 
 of princes, especially when they give audience to 
 ambassadors; the courts of justice, while they sit 
 and hear causes ; and so of consistories ecclesias- 
 tic ; the churches and monasteries, with the mo- 
 numents which are therein extant ; the walls and 
 
OF TRAVEL. 63 
 
 fortifications of cities and towns ; and so the havens 
 and harbours, antiquities and ruins, libraries, col- 
 leges, disputations, and lectures, where any are ; 
 shipping and navies ; houses and gardens of state 
 and pleasure, near great cities ; armories, arsenals, 
 magazines, exchanges, burses, warehouses, exer- 
 cises of horsemanship, fencing, training of soldiers, 
 and the like : comedies, such whereunto the better 
 sort of persons do resort ; treasuries of jewels and 
 robes; cabinets and rarities; and, to conclude, 
 whatsoever, is memorable in the places where they 
 go : after all which the tutors or servants ought 
 to make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, masks; 
 feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, and 
 such shows, men need not to be put in mind of them : 
 yet are they not to be neglected. If you will have 
 a young man to put his travel into a little room, 
 and in short time to gather much, this you must 
 do : first, as was said, he must have some entrance 
 into the language before he goeth ; then he must 
 have such a servant, or tutor, as knoweth the 
 country, as was likewise said : let him carry with 
 him also some card, or book, describing the coun- 
 try where he travelleth, which will be a good key 
 to his inquiry ; let him keep also a diary ; let him 
 not stay long in one city or town, more or less as 
 the place deserveth, but not long; nay, when he 
 stayeth in one city or town, let him change his 
 lodging from one end and part of the town to ano- 
 ther, which is a great adamant of acquaintance ; 
 
64 ESSAYS. 
 
 let him sequester himself from the company of his 
 countrymen, and diet in such places where there 
 is good company of the nation where he travelleth : 
 let him, upon his removes from one place to ano- 
 ther, procure recommendation to some person of 
 quality residing in the place whither he remove th, 
 that he may use his favour in those things he de- 
 sireth to see or know : thus he may abridge his 
 travel with much profit. As for the acquaintance 
 which is to be sought in travel, that which is most 
 of all profitable, is acquaintance with the secre- 
 taries and employed men of ambassadors ; for so 
 in travelling in one country he shall suck the ex- 
 perience of many : let him also see and visit emi- 
 nent persons in all kinds, which are of great name 
 abroad, that he may be able to tell how the life 
 agreeth with the fame ; For quarrels, they are 
 with care and discretion to be avoided ; they are 
 commonly for mistresses, healths, place, and words ; 
 and let a man beware how he keepeth company 
 with choleric and quarrelsome persons, for they 
 will engage him into their own quarrels. When 
 a traveller returneth home, let him not leave the 
 countries where he hath travelled altogether be- 
 hind him ; but maintain a correspondence by let- 
 ters with those of his acquaintance which are of 
 most worth ; and let his travel appear rather in 
 his discourse than in his apparel or gesture ; and 
 in his discourse let him be rather advised in his 
 answers, than forward to tell stories : and let it 
 
OF TRAVEL. 65 
 
 appear that he doth not change his country man- 
 ners for those of foreign parts ; but only prick in 
 some flowers of that he hath learned abroad into 
 the customs of his own country. 
 
 XIX. OF EMPIRE. 
 
 IT is a miserable state of mind to have few things 
 to desire, and many thiugs to fear ; and yet 
 that commonly is the case of kings, who being at 
 the highest, want matter of desire, which makes 
 their minds more languishing ; and have many re- 
 presentations of perils and shadows, which makes 
 their minds the less clear : and this is one reason 
 also of that effect which the scripture speaketh of, 
 " That the king's heart is inscrutable :" for mul- 
 titude of jealousies, and lack of some predominant 
 desire, that should marshal and put in order all 
 the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find 
 or sound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes 
 many times make themselves desires, and set their 
 hearts upon toys ; sometimes upon a building ; 
 sometimes upon erecting of an order ; sometimes 
 upon the advancing of a person ; sometimes upon 
 obtaining excellency in some art, or feat of the 
 hand : as Nero for playing on the harp ; Domi- 
 tian for certainty of the hand with the arrow ; 
 Commodus for playing at fence ; Caracalla for 
 
 F 
 
66 ESSAYS. 
 
 driving chariots, and the like. This seemeth in- 
 credible unto those that know not the principle, 
 that the mind of man is more cheered and refreshed 
 by profiting in small things, than by standing at a 
 stay in great. We see also that kings that have 
 been fortunate conquerors in their first years, it 
 being not possible for them to go forward infinitely, 
 but that they must have some check or arrest in 
 their fortunes, turn in their latter years to be su- 
 perstitious and melancholy; as did Alexander the 
 Great, Dioclesian, and in our memory Charles the 
 Fifth, and others : for he that is used to go for- 
 ward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his own 
 favour, and is not the thing he was. 
 
 To speak now of the true temper of empire, it is 
 a thing rare and hard to keep; for both temper 
 and distemper consist of contraries : but it is one 
 thing to mingle contraries, another to interchange 
 them. The answer of Apollonius to Vespasian is 
 full of excellent instruction. Vespasian asked him, 
 what was Nero's overthrow ? he answered, Nero 
 could touch and tune the harp well, but in govern- 
 ment sometimes he used to wind the pins too high, 
 sometimes to let them down too low ; and certain 
 it is, that nothing destroyeth authority so much as 
 the unequal and untimely interchange of power 
 pressed too far, and relaxed too much. 
 
 This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter 
 times in princes' affairs, is rather fine deliveries, 
 and shiftings of dangers and mischiefs, when they 
 
OF EMPIRE. 67 
 
 are near, than solid and grounded courses to keep 
 them aloof: but this is but to try masteries with 
 fortune; and let men beware how they neglect and 
 suffer matter of trouble to be prepared ; for no 
 man can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may 
 come. The difficulties in princes' business are 
 many and great ; but the greatest difficulty is often 
 in their own mind ; for it is common with princes 
 (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories ; " Sunt 
 plerumque regum voluntates vehementes, et inter 
 se contrarise ; " for it is the solecism of power to 
 think to command the end, and yet not to endure 
 the mean. 
 
 Kings have to deal with their neighbours, their 
 wives, their children, their prelates or clergy, their 
 nobles, their second nobles or gentlemen, their 
 merchants, their commons, and their men of war ; 
 and from all these arise dangers, if care and cir- 
 cumspection be not used. 
 
 First, for their neighbours, there can no general 
 rule be given (the occasions are so variable,) save 
 one which ever holdeth ; which is, that princes do 
 keep due sentinel, that none of their neighbours do 
 overgrow so, (by increase of territory, by embracing 
 of trade, by approaches, or the like,) as they be- 
 come more able to annoy them than they were ; and 
 this is generally the work of standing counsels to 
 foresee and to hinder it. During that triumvirate 
 of kings, king Henry the Eighth of England, 
 Francis the First, king of France, and Charles the 
 
68 ESSAYS. 
 
 Fifth emperor, there was such a watch kept that 
 none of the three could win a palm of ground, but 
 the other two would straightways balance it, either 
 by confederation, or, if need were, by a war ; and 
 would not in any wise take up peace at interest : 
 and the like was done by that league (which Guic- 
 ciardini saith was the security of Italy,) made be- 
 tween Ferdinando, king of Naples, Lorenzius Me- 
 dicis, and Ludovicus Sforsa, potentates, the one of 
 Florence, the other of Milan. Neither is the opi- 
 nion of some of the schoolmen to be received, that 
 a war cannot justly be made, but upon a precedent 
 injury or provocation ; for there is no question, but 
 a just fear of an imminent danger though there be 
 no blow given, is a lawful cause of a war. 
 
 For their wives, there are cruel examples of them. 
 Livia is infamed for the poisoning of her husband ; 
 Roxalana, Soly man's wife, was the destruction of 
 that renowned prince, Sultan Mustapha, and other- 
 wise troubled his house and succession ; Edward 
 the Second of England's queen had the principal 
 hand in the deposing and murder of her husband. 
 This kind of danger is then to be feared chiefly 
 when the wives have plots for the raising of their 
 own children, or else that they be advoutresses. 
 
 For their children, the tragedies likewise of dan- 
 gers from them have been many ; and generally 
 the entering of fathers into suspicion of their chil- 
 dren hath been ever unfortunate. The destruction 
 
OF EMPIRE. 69 
 
 of Mustapha (that we named before) was so fatal 
 to Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turks 
 from Solyman until this day is suspected to be un- 
 true, and of strange blood ; for that Selymus the 
 Second was thought to be supposititious. The de- 
 struction of Crispus, a young prince of rare to- 
 wardness, by Constantinus the Great, his father, 
 was in like manner fatal to his house, for both 
 Constantinus and Constance, his sons, died violent 
 deaths ; and Constantius, his other son, did little 
 better, who died indeed of sickness, but after that 
 Julianus had taken arms against him. The de- 
 struction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second 
 of Macedon, turned upon the father, who died of 
 repentance : and many like examples there are, 
 but few or none where the fathers had good by 
 such distrust, except it were where the sons were 
 up in open arms against them ; as was Selymus 
 the First against Bajazet, and the three sons of 
 Henry the Second, king of England. 
 
 For their prelates, when they are proud and 
 great, there is also danger from them ; as it was 
 in^the times of Anselmus and Thomas Becket, 
 archbishops of Canterbury, who with their crosiers 
 did almost try it with the king's sword ; and yet 
 they had to deal with stout and haughty kings, 
 William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the 
 Second. The danger is not from that state, but 
 where it hath a dependence of foreign authority ; 
 
70 ESSAYS. 
 
 or where the churchmen come in and are elected, 
 not by the collation of the king, or particular pa- 
 trons, but by the people. 
 
 For their nobles, to keep them at a distance it is 
 not amiss ; but to depress them may make a king 1 
 more absolute, but less safe, and less able to per- 
 form any thing that he desires. I have noted it in 
 my History of king Henry the Seventh of England, 
 who depressed his nobility, whereupon it came to 
 pass that his times were full of difficulties and 
 troubles ; for the nobility, though they continued 
 loyal unto him, yet did they not co-operate with 
 him in his business ; so that in effect he was fain 
 to do all things himself. 
 
 For their second nobles, there is not much dan- 
 ger from them, being a body dispersed : they may 
 sometimes discourse high, but that doth little hurt: 
 besides, they are a counterpoise to the higher no- 
 bility, that they grow not too potent; and, lastly, 
 being the most immediate in authority with the 
 common people, they do best temper popular com- 
 motions. 
 
 For their merchants, they are " vena porta ;" 
 and if they flourish not, a kingdom may have good 
 limbs, but will have empty veins, and nourish little. 
 Taxes and imposts upon them do seldom good to 
 the king's revenue, for that which he wins in the 
 hundred, he loseth in the shire ; the particular 
 rates being increased, but the total bulk of trading 
 rather decreased. 
 
OF EMPIRE. 71 
 
 For their commons, there is little danger from 
 them, except it be where they have great and po- 
 tent heads ; or where you meddle with the point 
 of religion, or their customs, or means of life. 
 
 For their men of war, it is a dangerous state 
 where they live and remain in a body, and are 
 used to donatives, whereof we see examples in the 
 janizaries and pretorian bands of Rome; but train- 
 ings of men, and arming them in several places, 
 and under several commanders, and without dona- 
 tives, are things of defence, and no danger. 
 
 Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause 
 good or evil times ; and which have much venera- 
 tion, but no rest. All precepts concerning kings 
 are in effect comprehended in these two remem- 
 brances, " memento quod es homo ;" and " memen- 
 to quod es Deus," or " vice Dei;" the one bridleth 
 their power, and the other their will. 
 
 XX. OF COUNSEL. 
 
 THE greatest trust between man and man is [ 
 the trust of giving counsel ; for in other con- 
 fidences men commit the parts of life, their lands, 
 their goods, their children, their credit, some par- 
 ticular affair; but to such as they make their coun- 
 sellors they commit the whole : by how much the 
 more they are obliged to all faith and integrity. 
 
72 ESSAYS. 
 
 The wisest princes need not think it any diminution 
 to their greatness, or derogation to their sufficiency, 
 to rely upon counsel. God himself is not without, 
 but hath made it one of the great names of his 
 blessed Son, "The Counsellor." Solomon hath 
 pronounced that, " in counsel is stability." Things 
 will have^heir first or second agitation : if they be 
 not tossed upon the arguments of counsel, they will 
 be tossed upon the waves of fortune ; and be full 
 of inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling 
 of a drunken man. Solomon's son found the force 
 of counsel, as his father saw the necessity of it : 
 for the beloved kingdom of God was first rent and 
 broken by ill counsel ; upon which counsel there 
 are set for our instruction the two marks whereby 
 bad counsel is for ever best discerned, that it was 
 young counsel for the persons, and violent counsel 
 for the matter. 
 
 The ancient times do set forth in figure both 
 the incorporation and inseparable conjunction of 
 counsel with kings, and the wise and politic use 
 of counsel by kings : the one, in that they say 
 Jupiter did marry Metis, which signifieth counsel ; 
 whereby they intend that sovereignty is married 
 to counsel ; the other in that which folio we th, 
 which was thus : they say, after Jupiter was mar- 
 ried to Metis, she conceived by him and was with 
 child, but Jupiter suffered her not to stay till she 
 brought forth, but eat her up; whereby he be- 
 
OF COUNSEL. 73 
 
 came himself with child, and was delivered of 
 Pallas Armed, out of his head. Which monstrous 
 fable containeth a secret of empire, how kings 
 are to make use of their counsel of state : that 
 first, they ought to refer matters unto them, which 
 is the first begetting or impregnation ; but when 
 they are elaborate, moulded, and shaped in the 
 womb of their council, and grow ripe and ready 
 to be brought forth, that then they suffer not their 
 council to go through with the resolution and 
 direction, as if it' depended on them; but take 
 the matter back into their own hands, and make 
 it appear to the world, that the decrees and 
 final directions (which, because they come forth 
 with prudence and power, are resembled to Pallas 
 Armed,) proceeded from themselves ; and not only 
 from their authority, but (the more to add reputa- 
 tion to themselves) from their head and device. 
 
 Let us now speak of the inconveniences of coun- 
 sel, and of the remedies. The inconveniences that 
 have been noted in calling and using counsel, are 
 three : first, the revealing of affairs, whereby they 
 become less secret; secondly, the weakening of 
 the authority of princes, as if they were less of 
 themselves ; thirdly, the danger of being unfaith- 
 fully counselled, and more for the good of them 
 that counsel, than of him that is counselled ; for 
 which inconveniences, the doctrine of Italy, and 
 practice of France, in some kings' times, hath in- 
 
74 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 troduced cabinet councils ; a remedy worse than 
 the disease. 
 
 As to secrecy, princes are not bound to com- 
 municate all matters with all counsellors, but may 
 extract and select ; neither is it necessary, that 
 he that consulteth what he should do, should de- 
 clare what he will do ; but let princes beware 
 that the unsecreting of their affairs comes not 
 from themselves : and, as for cabinet councils, it 
 may be their motto, " plenus rimarum sum :" one 
 futile person, that maketh it his glory to tell, will 
 do more hurt than many, that know it their duty 
 to conceal. It is true there be some affairs which 
 require extreme secrecy, which will hardly go be- 
 yond one or two persons besides the king : neither 
 are those counsels unprosperous ; for, besides the 
 secrecy, they commonly go on constantly in one 
 spirit of direction without distraction : but then it 
 must be a prudent king, such as is able to grind 
 with a hand-mill; and those inward counsellors 
 had need also be wise men, and especially true 
 and trusty to the king's ends ; as it was with 
 king Henry the Seventh of England, who in his 
 greatest business imparted himself to none, except 
 it were to Morton and Fox. 
 
 For weakening of authority the fable showeth 
 the remedy : nay, the majesty of kings is rather 
 exalted than diminished when they are in the chair 
 of council ; neither was there ever prince bereaved 
 of his dependencies by his council, except where 
 
OF COUNSEL. /5 
 
 there hath been either an over-greatness in one 
 counsellor, or an over-strict combination in divers, 
 which are things soon found and holpen. 
 
 For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel 
 with an eye to themselves ; certainly, " non inve- 
 niet fidem super terrain," is meant of the nature 
 of times, and not of all particular persons. There 
 be that are in nature faithful and sincere, and plain 
 and direct, not crafty and involved : let princes, 
 above all, draw to themselves such natures. Be- 
 sides, counsellors are not commonly so united, but 
 that one counsellor keepeth sentinel over another; 
 so that if any do counsel out of faction or private 
 ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear : but 
 the best remedy is, if princes know their counsellors, 
 as well as their counsellors know them : 
 
 " Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos." 
 
 And on the other side, counsellors should not be 
 too speculative into their sovereign's person. The 
 true composition of a counsellor is, rather to be 
 skilful in their master's business than in his nature ; 
 for then he is like to advise him, and not to feed 
 his humour. It is of singular use to princes if they 
 take the opinions of their council both separately 
 and together; for private opinion is more free, but 
 opinion before others is more reverend. In private, 
 men are more bold in their own humours ; and in 
 consort, men are more obnoxious to others' humours, 
 therefore it is good to take both ; and of the infe- 
 
76 ESSAYS. 
 
 rior sort rather in private, to preserve freedom ; of 
 the greater, rather in consort, to preserve respect. 
 It is in vain for princes to take counsel concerning 
 matters, if they take no counsel likewise concern- 
 ing persons ; for all matters are as dead images ; 
 and the life of the execution of affairs resteth in 
 the good choice of persons : neither is it enough to 
 consult concerning persons, " secundum genera, " 
 as in an idea or mathematical description, what the 
 kind and character of the person should be ; for 
 the greatest errors are committed, and the most 
 judgment is shown, in the choice of individuals. 
 It was truly said, " Optimi consiliarii mortui: " 
 " books will speak plain when counsellors blanch ; " 
 therefore it is good to be conversant in them, spe- 
 cially the books of such as themselves have been 
 actors upon the stage. 
 
 The councils at this day in most places are but 
 familiar meetings, where matters are rather talked 
 on than debated ; and they run too swift to the 
 order or act of council. It were better that in 
 causes of weight the matter were propounded one 
 day and not spoken to till the next day; " in nocte 
 consilium : " so was it done in the commission of 
 union between England and Scotland, which was 
 a grave and orderly assembly. I commend set days 
 for petitions ; for both it gives the suitors more 
 certainty for their attendance, and it frees the 
 meetings for matters of estate, that they may " hoc 
 agere." In choice of committees for ripening bu- 
 
OF COUNSEL. ' 77 
 
 siness for the council, it is better to choose indif- 
 ferent persons, than to make an indifferency by 
 putting in those that are strong on both sides. I 
 commend, also, standing commissions ; as for trade, 
 for treasure, for war, for suits, for some provinces ; 
 for where there be divers particular councils, and 
 but one council of estate, (as it is in Spain) they 
 are, in effect, no more than standing commissions, 
 save that they have greater authority. Let such 
 as are to inform councils out of their particular 
 professions, (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, and the 
 like,) be first heard before committees ; and then, 
 as occasion serves, before the council; and let them 
 not come in multitudes, or in a tribunitious man- 
 ner ; for that is to clamour councils, not to inform 
 them. A long table and a square table, or seats 
 about the walls, seem things of form, but are things 
 of substance ; for at a long table a few at the up- 
 per end, in effect, sway all the business; but in the 
 other form there is more use of the counsellors' 
 opinions that sit lower. A king, when he presides 
 in council, let him beware how he opens his own 
 inclination too much in that which he propoundeth ; 
 for else counsellors will but take the wind of him, 
 and instead of giving free counsel, will sing him a 
 song of " placebo. " 
 
78 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 XXI. OF DELAYS. 
 
 FORTUNE is like the market, where many 
 times, if you can stay a little, the price will 
 fall ; and again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's offer, 
 which at first offereth the commodity at full, then 
 consumeth part and part, and still holdeth up the 
 price ; for occasion (as it is in the common verse) 
 turneth a bald noddle after she hath presented her 
 locks in front, and no hold taken; or, at least, 
 turneth the handle of the bottle first to be received, 
 and after the belly, which is hard to clasp. There 
 is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the 
 beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers are no 
 more light, if they once seem light ; and more dan- 
 gers have deceived men than forced them: nay, it 
 were better to meet some dangers half way, though 
 they come nothing near, than to keep too long a 
 watch upon their approaches ; for if a man watch 
 too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. On the 
 other side, to be deceived with too long shadows, 
 (as some have been when the moon was low and 
 shone on their enemies' back) and so to shoot off 
 before the time ; or to teach dangers to come on 
 by over early buckling towards them, is another 
 extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the occa- 
 sion, (as we said) must ever be well weighed; and 
 
OF DELAYS. 79 
 
 generally it is good to commit the beginnings of 
 all great actions to Argus with his hundred eyes, 
 and the ends to Briareus with his hundred hands ; 
 first to watch, and then to speed ; for the helmet 
 of Pluto, which maketh the politic man go invisi- 
 ble, is secrecy in the council, and celerity in the 
 execution ; for when things are once come to the 
 execution, there is no secrecy comparable to cele- 
 rity ; like the motion of a bullet in the air, which 
 ilieth so swift as it outruns the eye. 
 
 XXII. OF CUNNING. 
 
 WE take cunning for a sinister, or crooked 
 wisdom; and certainly there is great dif- 
 ference between a cunning man and wise man, 
 not only in point of honesty, but in point of ability. 
 There be that can pack the cards, and yet cannot 
 play well ; so there are some that are good in can- 
 vasses and factions, that are otherwise weak men. 
 Again, it is one thing to understand persons, and 
 another thing to understand matters ; for many are 
 perfect in men's humours, that are not greatly 
 capable of the real part of business, which is the 
 constitution of one that hath studied men more than 
 books. Such men are fitter for practice than for 
 counsel, and they are good but in their own alley : 
 turn them to new men, and they have lost their 
 
80 ESSAYS. 
 
 aim ; so as the old rule, to know a fool from a wise 
 man, " Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, et videbis," 
 doth scarce hold for them; and, because these cun- 
 ning men are like haberdashers of small wares, it 
 is not amiss to set forth their shop. 
 
 It is a point of cunning to wait upon him with 
 whom you speak with your eye, as the Jesuits give 
 it in precept; for there be many wise men that 
 have secret hearts and transparent countenances : 
 yet this would be done with a demure abasing of 
 your eye sometimes, as the Jesuits also do use. 
 
 Another is, that when you have any thing to ob- 
 tain of present dispatch, you entertain and amuse 
 the party with whom you deal with some other dis- 
 course, that he be not too much awake to make 
 objections. I knew a counsellor and secretary, 
 that never came to queen Elizabeth of England 
 with bills to sign, but he would always first put her 
 into some discourse of estate, that she might the 
 less mind the bills. 
 
 The like surprise may be made by moving things 
 when the party is in haste, and cannot stay to con- 
 sider advisedly of that is moved. 
 
 If a man would cross a business that he doubts 
 some other would handsomely and effectually move, 
 let him pretend to wish it well, and move it him- 
 self, in such sort as may foil it. 
 
 The breaking off in the midst of that, one was 
 about to say, as if he took himself up, breeds a 
 
OF CUNNING. 81 
 
 greater appetite in him, with whom you confer, to 
 know more. 
 
 And because it works better when any thing 
 seemeth to be gotten from you by question, than if 
 you offer it of yourself, you may lay a bait for a 
 question, by showing another visage and counte- 
 nance than you are wont ; to the end, to give oc- 
 casion for the party to ask what the matter is of 
 the change, as Nehemiah did, " And I had not be- 
 fore that time been sad before the king." 
 
 In things that are tender and unpleasing-, it is 
 good to break the ice by some whose words are of 
 less weight, and to reserve the more weighty voice 
 to come in as by chance, so that he may be asked 
 the question upon the other's speech ; as Narcissus 
 did, in relating to Claudius the marriage of Messa- 
 lina and Silius. 
 
 In things that a man would not be seen in him- 
 self, it is a point of cunning to borrow the name 
 of the world; as to say, "The world says/' or 
 " There is a speech abroad." 
 
 I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, he would 
 put that which was most material in the postscript, 
 as if it had been a bye matter. 
 
 I knew another that, when he came to have 
 speech, he would pass over that that he intended 
 most : and go forth and come back again, and speak 
 of it as of a thing that he had almost forgot. 
 
 Some procure themselves to be surprised at such 
 
 G 
 
82 ESSAYS. 
 
 times as it is like the party that they work upon, 
 will suddenly come upon them, and to be found 
 with a letter in their hand, or doing somewhat which 
 they are not accustomed, to the end they may be 
 apposed of those things which of themselves they 
 are desirous to utter. 
 
 It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words 
 in a man's own name which he would have another 
 man learn and use, and thereupon take advantage. 
 I knew two that were competitors for the secretary's 
 place, in queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good 
 quarter between themselves, and would confer one 
 with another upon the business ; and the one of 
 them said, that to be a secretary in the declination 
 of a monarchy was a ticklish thing, and that he did 
 not affect it : the other straight caught up those 
 w r ords, and discoursed with divers of his friends, 
 that he had no reason to desire to be secretary in 
 the declination of a monarchy. The first man took 
 hold of it, and found means it was told the queen ; 
 who hearing of a declination of a monarchy, took 
 it so ill, as she would never after hear of the other's 
 suit. 
 
 There is a cunning, which we in England call 
 " The turning of the cat in the pan;" which is, 
 when that which a man says to another, he lays it 
 as if another had said it to him; and, to say truth, 
 it is not easy, when such a matter passed between 
 two, to make it appear from which of them it first 
 moved and began. 
 
OF CUNNING. 83 
 
 It is a way that some men have, to glance and 
 dart at others by justifying* themselves by nega- 
 tives; as to say, "This I do not;" as Tigellinus 
 did towards Burrhus, " Se non diversas spes, sed 
 incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciter spectare." 
 
 Some have in readiness so many tales and sto- 
 ries, as there is nothing they would insinuate, but 
 they can wrap it into a tale ; which serveth both to 
 keep themselves more in guard, and to make others 
 carry it with more pleasure. 
 
 It is a good point of cunning for a man to shape 
 the answer he would have in his own words and 
 propositions ; for it makes the other party stick the 
 less. 
 
 It is strange how long some men will lie in wait 
 to speak somewhat they desire to say ; and how 
 far about they will fetch, and how many other mat- 
 ters they will beat over to come near it : it is a 
 thing of great patience, but yet of much use. 
 
 A sudden, bold, and unexpected question doth 
 many times surprise a man, and lay him open. 
 Like to him, that, having changed his name, and 
 walking in Paul's, another suddenly came behind 
 him and called him by his true name, whereat 
 straightway s he looked back. 
 
 But these small wares and petty points of cun- 
 ning are infinite, and it were a good deed to make 
 a list of them ; for that nothing doth more hurt in 
 a state than that cunning men pass for wise. 
 
 But certainly some there are that know the re- 
 
84 ESSAYS. 
 
 sorts and falls of business, that cannot sink into 
 the main of it ; like a house that hath convenient 
 stairs and entries, but never a fair room : there- 
 fore you shall see them find out pretty looses in the 
 conclusion, but are noways able to examine or de- 
 bate matters : and yet commonly they take advan- 
 tage of their inability, and would be thought wits 
 of direction. Some build rather upon the abusing* 
 of others, and (as we now say) putting tricks upon 
 them, than upon soundness of their own proceed- 
 ings : but Solomon saith, " Prudens advertit ad 
 sressus suos : stultus divertit ad dolos." 
 
 XXIII. OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF. 
 
 AN ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a 
 shrewd thing in an orchard or garden ; and 
 certainly men that are great lovers of themselves 
 waste the public. Divide with reason between self- 
 love and society ; and be so true to thyself, as thou 
 be not false to others, especially to thy king and 
 country. It is a poor centre of a man's actions, 
 himself. It is right earth ; for that only stands 
 fast upon his own centre ; whereas all things that 
 have affinity with the heavens, move upon the cen- 
 tre of another, which they benefit. The referring 
 of all to a man's self, is more tolerable in a sove- 
 reign prince, because themselves are not only them- 
 
OF WISDOM FOR A Man's SELF. 85 
 
 selves, but their good and evil is at the peril of the 
 public fortune : but it is a desperate evil in a ser- 
 vant to a prince, or a citizen in a republic ; for 
 whatsoever affairs pass such a man's hands, he 
 crooketh them to his own ends, which must needs 
 be often eccentric, to the ends of his master or 
 state: therefore let princes, or states, choose such 
 servants as have not this mark ; except they mean 
 their service should be made but the accessary. 
 That which maketh the effect more pernicious is, 
 that all proportion is lost; it were disproportion 
 enough for the servant's good to be preferred be- 
 fore the master's ; but yet it is a greater extreme, 
 when a little good of the servant shall cany things 
 against a great good of the master's : and yet that 
 is the case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, 
 generals, and other false and corrupt servants ; 
 which set a bias upon their bowl, of their own 
 petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their 
 master's great and important affairs : and, for the 
 most part, the good such servants receive is after 
 the model of their own fortune ; but the hurt they 
 sell for that good is after the model of their mas- 
 ter's fortune : and certainly it is the nature of ex- 
 treme self-lovers, as they will set a house on fire, 
 and it were but to roast their eggs ; and yet these 
 men many times hold credit with their masters, be- 
 cause their study is but to please them, and profit 
 themselves; and for either respect they will aban- 
 don the orood of their affairs. 
 
86 ESSAYS. 
 
 Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches 
 thereof, a depraved thing: it is the wisdom of rats, 
 that will be sure to leave a house somewhat before 
 it fall : it is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out 
 the badger, who digged and made room for him : 
 it is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed tears when 
 they would devour. But that which is specially to 
 be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says of 
 Pompey) are, "sui amantes, sine rivali," are many 
 times unfortunate ; and whereas they have all their 
 times sacrificed to themselves, they become in the 
 end themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of for- 
 tune, whose wings they thought by their self- wis- 
 dom to have pinioned. 
 
 XXIV. OF INNOVATIONS. 
 
 AS the births of living creatures at first are 
 ill-shapen, so are all innovations, which are 
 the births of time ; yet notwithstanding, as those 
 that first bring honour into their family are com- 
 monly more worthy than most that succeed, so the 
 first precedent (if it be good) is seldom attained by 
 imitation ; for ill to man's nature as it stands per- 
 verted, hath a natural motion strongest in continu- 
 ance ; but good, as a forced motion, strongest at 
 first. Surely every medicine is an innovation, and 
 he that will not apply new remedies must expect 
 
OF INNOVATIONS. 87 
 
 new evils ; for time is the greatest innovator ; and 
 if time of course alter things to the worse, and 
 wisdom and counsel shall not aiter them to the 
 better, what shall be the end ? It is true, that what 
 is settled by custom, though it be not good, yet at 
 least it is fit ; and those things which have long 
 gone together, are, as it were, confederate within 
 themselves ; whereas new things piece not so well ; 
 but, though they help by their utility, yet they 
 trouble by their inconformity : besides, they are 
 like strangers, more admired, and less favoured. 
 All this is true, if time stood still; which, contra- 
 riwise, moveth so round, that a froward retention 
 of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation ; 
 and they that reverence too much old times, are 
 but a scorn to the new. It were good, therefore, 
 that men in their innovations would follow the 
 example of time itself, which indeed innovateth 
 greatly, but quietly, and by degrees scarce to be 
 perceived ; for otherwise, whatsoever is new is 
 unlooked for ; and ever it mends some, and pairs 
 other ; and he that is holpen takes it for a fortune, 
 and thanks the time ; and he that is hurt for a 
 wrong, and imputeth it to the author. It is good 
 also not to try experiments in states, except the 
 necessity be urgent, or the utility evident ; and well 
 to beware that it be the reformation that draweth 
 on the change, and not the desire of change that 
 pretendeth the reformation; and lastly, that the 
 novelty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a 
 
88 ESSAYS. 
 
 suspect; and, as the Scripture saith, " That we 
 make a stand upon the ancient way, and then look 
 about us, and discover what is the straight and 
 right way, and so to walk in it." 
 
 XXV. OF DISPATCH. 
 
 AFFECTED dispatch is one of the most dan- 
 gerous things to business that can be : It is 
 like that which the physicians call predigestion, or. 
 hasty digestion ; which is sure to fill the body full 
 of crudities, and secret seeds of diseases : therefore 
 measure not dispatch by the times of sitting, but 
 by the advancement of the business : and as, in 
 races, it is not the large stride, or high lift, that 
 makes the speed ; so, in business, the keeping close 
 to the matter, and not taking of it too much at 
 once, procureth dispatch. It is the care of some 
 only to come off speedily for the time, or to con- 
 trive some false periods of business, because they 
 may seem men of dispatch : but it is one thing to 
 abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off; 
 and business so handled at several sittings, or meet- 
 ings, goeth commonly backward and forward in an 
 unsteady manner. I knew a wise man, that had 
 it for a by-word, when he saw men hasten to a 
 conclusion, " Stay a little, that we may make an 
 end the sooner." 
 
OF DISPATCH. 89 
 
 On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing; 
 for time is the measure of business, as money is of 
 wares ; and business is bought at a dear hand where 
 there is small dispatch. The Spartans and Spaniards 
 have been noted to be of small dispatch: "Mi 
 venga la muerte de Spagna;" — "Let my death 
 come from Spain," for then it will be sure to be 
 long in coming. 
 
 Give good hearing to those that give the first 
 information in business, and rather direct them in 
 the beginning, than interrupt them in the con- 
 tinuance of their speeches ; for he that is put out 
 of his own order will go forward and backward, 
 and be more tedious while he waits upon his me- 
 mory, than he could have been if he had gone 
 on in his own course; but sometimes it is seen 
 that the moderator is more troublesome than the 
 actor. 
 
 Iterations are commonly loss of time ; but there 
 is no such gain of time as to iterate often the state 
 of the question ; for it chaseth away many a fri- 
 volous speech as it is coming forth. Long and 
 curious speeches are as fit for dispatch, as a robe, 
 or mantle, with a long train, is for race. Prefaces, 
 and passages, and excusations, and other speeches 
 of reference to the person, are great wastes of time ; 
 and though they seem to proceed of modesty, they 
 are bravery. Yet beware of being too material 
 when there is any impediment, or obstruction in 
 men's wills ; for pre-occupation of mind ever re- 
 
90 ESSAYS. 
 
 quireth preface of speech, like a fomentation to 
 make the unguent enter. 
 
 Above all things, order, and distribution, and 
 singling out of parts, is the life of dispatch ; so as 
 the distribution be not too subtile : for he that doth 
 not divide will never enter well into business ; and 
 he that divideth too much will never come out of 
 it clearly. To choose time is to save time ; and an 
 unseasonable motion is but beating the air. There 
 be three parts of business, the preparation; the 
 debate, or examination ; and the perfection; where- 
 of, if you look for dispatch, let the middle only be 
 the work of many, and the first and last the work 
 of few. The proceeding upon somewhat conceived 
 in writing doth for the most part facilitate dis- 
 patch : for though it should be wholly rejected, 
 yet that negative is more pregnant of direction 
 than an indefinite, as ashes are more generative 
 than dust. 
 
 XXVI. OF SEEMING WISE. 
 
 IT hath been an opinion, that the French are 
 wiser than they seem, and the Spaniards seem 
 wiser than they are ; but howsoever it be between 
 nations, certainly it is so between man and man ; 
 for as the apostle saith of godliness, " Having a 
 shew of godliness, but denying the power thereof; " 
 
OF SEEMING WISE. 91 
 
 so certainly there are in point of wisdom and suf- 
 ficiency, that do nothing* or little' very solemnly : 
 4 * magno conatu nugas." It is a ridiculous thing, 
 and fit for a satire to persons of judgment, to see 
 what shifts these formalists have, and what pros- 
 pectives to make superfices to seem body that hath 
 depth and bulk. Some are so close and reserved, 
 as they will not show their wares but by a dark 
 light, and seem always to keep back somewhat ; 
 and when they know within themselves they speak 
 of that they do not well know, would nevertheless 
 seem to others to know of that which they may 
 not well speak. Some help themselves with coun- 
 tenance and gesture, and are wise by signs ; as 
 Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered him 
 he fetched one of his brows up to his forehead, and 
 bent the other down to his chin ; " Respondes, al- 
 tero ad frontem sublato, altero ad mentum depresso 
 supercilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere." Some 
 think to bear it by speaking a great word, and be- 
 ing 1 peremptory ; and go on, and take by admittance 
 that which they cannot make good. Some, what- 
 soever is beyond their reach, will seem to despise, 
 or make light of it as impertinent or curious : and 
 so would have their ignorance seem judgment. 
 Some are never without a difference, and commonly 
 by amusing men with a subtilty, blanch the matter; 
 of whom A. Gellius saith, " Hominem delirum, qui 
 verborum, minutiis rerum frangit pondera." Of 
 which kind also Plato, in his Protagoras, bringeth 
 
92 ESSAYS. 
 
 in Prodicus in scorn, and maketb him make a speech 
 that consisteth of distinctions from the beginning 
 to the end. Generally such men, in all delibera- 
 tions, find ease to be of the negative side, and affect 
 a credit to object and foretell difficulties ; for when 
 propositions are denied, there is an end of them ; 
 but if they be allowed, it require th a new work ; 
 which false point of wisdom is the bane of business. 
 To conclude, there is no decaying merchant, or in- 
 ward beggar, hath so many tricks to uphold the cre- 
 dit of their wealth, as these empty persons have to 
 maintain the credit of their sufficiency. Seeming 
 wise men may make shift to get opinion ; but let 
 no man choose them for employment ; for certainly, 
 you were better take for business a man somewhat 
 absurd than over- formal. 
 
 XXVII. OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 IT had been hard for him that spake it to have 
 put more truth and untruth together in few 
 words than in that speech, " Whosoever is delighted 
 in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god : " for it 
 is most true, that a natural and secret hatred and 
 aversation towards society in any man, hath some- 
 what of the savage beast ; but it is most untrue, 
 that it should have any character at all of the di- 
 vine nature, except it proceed, not out of a pleasure 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 93 
 
 in solitude, but out of a love and desire to sequester 
 a man's self for a higher conversation : such as is 
 found to have been falsely and feignedly in some 
 of the heathen; as Epimenides, theCandian; Nu- 
 ma, the Roman; Empedocles, the Sicilian; and 
 Apollonius of Tyana ; and truly and really in divers 
 of the ancient hermi ts and holy fathers of the church . 
 But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how 
 far it extendeth; for a crowd is not company, and 
 faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a 
 tinkling cymbal where there is no love. The Latin 
 adage meeteth with it a little : " Magna civitas, 
 magna solitudo ; " because in a great town friends 
 are scattered, so that there is not that fellowship, 
 for the most part, which is in less neighbourhoods : 
 but we may go farther, and affirm most truly, that 
 it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true 
 friends, without which the world is but a wilder- 
 ness ; and even in this sense also of solitude, who- 
 soever in the frame of his nature and affections is 
 unfit for friendship, he taketh it of the beast, and 
 not from humanity. 
 
 A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and 
 discharge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, 
 which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. 
 We know diseases of stoppings and suffocations 
 are the most dangerous in the body ; and it is not 
 much otherwise in the mind ; you may take sarza 
 to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flower 
 of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain ; 
 
94 ESSAYS. 
 
 but no receipt openeth the heart but a true friend, 
 to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, 
 suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the 
 heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or con- 
 fession. 
 
 It is a strange thing to observe how high a rate 
 great kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of 
 friendship whereof we speak : so great, as they 
 purchase it many times at the hazard of their own 
 safety and greatness : for princes, in regard of the 
 distance of their fortune from that of their subjects 
 and servants, cannot gather this fruit, except (to 
 make themselves capable thereof) they raise some 
 persons to be as it were companions, and almost 
 equals to themselves, which many times sorteth to 
 inconvenience. The modern languages give unto 
 such persons the name of favourites, or privadoes, 
 as if it were matter of grace, or conversation ; but 
 the Roman name attaineth the true use and cause 
 thereof, naming them " participes curarum ; " for 
 it is that which tieth the knot : and we see plainly 
 that this hath been done, not by weak and pas- 
 sionate princes only, but by the wisest and most 
 politic that ever reigned, who have oftentimes joined 
 to themselves some of their servants, whom both 
 themselves have called friends, and allowed others 
 likewise to call them in the same manner, using 
 the word which is received between private men. 
 
 L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised 
 Pompey (after surnamed the Great) to that height, 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 95 
 
 that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's over- 
 match ; for when he had carried the consulship for 
 a friend of his, against the pursuit of Sylla, and 
 that Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began 
 to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, 
 and in effect bade him be quiet; for that more men 
 adored the sun rising than the sun setting. With 
 Julius Csesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that 
 interest, as he set him down in his testament for 
 heir in remainder after his nephew ; and this was 
 the man that had power with him to draw him 
 forth to his death : for when Csesar would have 
 discharged the senate, in regard of some ill pre- 
 sages, and specially a dream of Calpurnia, this 
 man lifted him gently by the arm out of his chair, 
 telling him he hoped he would not dismiss the se- 
 nate till his wife had dreamed a better dream ; and 
 it seemeth his favour was so great, as Antonius in 
 a letter which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's 
 Philippics, calleth him "veneflca," — "witch;" as 
 if he had enchanted Csesar. Augustus raised 
 Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as, 
 when he consulted with Meecenas about the mar- 
 riage of his daughter Julia, Meecenas took the 
 liberty to tell him, that he must either marry his 
 daughter to Agrippa, or take away his life : there 
 was no third way, he had made him so great. With 
 Tiberius Csesar, Sejanus had ascended to that height 
 as they two were termed and reckoned as a pair of 
 friends. Tiberius, in a letter to him, saith, " Hasc 
 
96 ESSAYS. 
 
 pro amicitia nostra non occultavi ; " and the whole 
 senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to a god- 
 dess, in respect of the great dearness of friendship 
 between them two. The like, or more, was between,. 
 Septimius Severus and Plantianus ; for he forced 
 his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plantianus, 
 and would often maintain Plantianus in doing af- 
 fronts to his son ; and did write also, in a letter to 
 the senate, by these words: " I love the man so 
 well, as I wish he may over-live me." Now, if 
 these princes had been as a Trajan, or a Marcus 
 Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had 
 proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature ; but 
 being men so wise, of such strength and severity 
 of mind, and so extreme lovers of themselves, as 
 all these were, it proveth most plainly, that they 
 found their own felicity (though as great as ever 
 happened to mortal men) but as an half piece, ex- 
 cept they might have a friend to make it entire ; 
 and yet, which is more, they were princes that had 
 wives, sons, nephews; and yet all these could not 
 supply the comfort of friendship. 
 
 It is not to be forgotten what Comineus observ- 
 eth of his first master, duke Charles the Hardy, 
 namely, that he would communicate his secrets with 
 none ; and least of all, those secrets which troubled 
 him most. Whereupon he goeth on, and saith that 
 towards his latter time that closeness did impair and 
 a little perish his understanding. Surely Comineus 
 might have made the same judgment also, if it had 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 97 
 
 pleased him, of his second master, Lewis the Ele- 
 venth, whose closeness was indeed his tormentor. 
 The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true, "Cor 
 ne edito," — " eat not the heart." Certainly, if a 
 man would give it a hard phrase, those that want 
 friends to open themselves unto are cannibals of 
 their own hearts : but one thing is most admirable 
 (wherewith I will conclude this first fruit of friend- 
 ship), which is, that this communicating of a man's 
 self to his friend works two contrary effects, for it 
 redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in halves ; for 
 there is no man that imparteth his joys to his friend, 
 but he joyeth the more : and no man that imparteth 
 his griefs to his friend, but he grieve th the less. 
 So that it is, in truth, of operation upon a man's 
 mind of like virtue as the alchymists use to attri- 
 bute to their stone for man's body, that it worketh 
 all contrary effects, but still to the good and benefit 
 of nature : but yet, without praying in aid of al- 
 chymists, there is a manifest image of this in the 
 ordinary course of nature ; for, in bodies,- union 
 strengthened and cherisheth any natural action ; 
 and, on the other side, weakeneth and dulleth any 
 violent impression ; and even so it is of minds. 
 
 The second fruit of friendship is healthful and 
 sovereign for the understanding, as the first is for 
 the affections ; for friendship maketh indeed a fair 
 day in the affections from storm and tempests, but 
 it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of 
 darkness and confusion of thoughts : neither is this 
 
98 ESSAYS. 
 
 to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a 
 man receiveth from his friend ; but before you come 
 to that, certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind 
 fraught with many thoughts, his wits and under- 
 standing do clarify and break up, in the commu- 
 nicating and discoursing with another ; he tosseth 
 his thoughts more easily ; he marshalleth them more 
 orderly ; he seeth how they look when they are 
 turned into words : finally, he waxeth wiser than 
 himself; and that more by an hour's discourse than 
 by a day's meditation. It w r as well said by Themis- 
 tocles to the king of Persia, "That speech was 
 like cloth of Arras, opened and put abroad ; where- 
 by the imagery doth appear in figure ; whereas in 
 thoughts they lie but as in packs." Neither is this 
 second fruit of friendship, in opening the under- 
 standing, restrained only to such friends as are able 
 to give a man counsel, (they indeed are best,) but 
 even without that a man learneth of himself, and 
 bringeth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth 
 his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. 
 In a word, a man were better relate himself to a 
 statue or picture, than to suffer his thoughts to pass 
 in smother. 
 
 Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship 
 complete, that other point which lieth more open, 
 and falleth within vulgar observation : which is 
 faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith 
 well in one of his enigmas, " Dry light is ever the 
 best:" and certain it is, that the light that a man 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 99 
 
 receiveth by counsel from another, is drier and 
 purer than that which cometh from his own under- 
 standing and judgment; which is ever infused and 
 drenched in his affections and customs. So as there 
 is as much difference between the counsel that a 
 friend giveth, and that a man giveth himself, as 
 there is between the counsel of a friend and of a 
 flatterer ; for there is no such flatterer as is a man's 
 self, and there is no such remedy against flattery 
 of a man's self as the liberty of a friend. Counsel 
 is of two sorts ; the one concerning manners, the 
 other concerning business : for the first, the best 
 preservative to keep the mind in health is the faith- 
 ful admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's 
 self to a strict account is a medicine sometimes too 
 piercing and corrosive ; reading good books of mo- 
 rality is a little flat and dead ; observing our faults 
 in others is sometimes improper for our case ; but 
 the best receipt (best I say to work and best to take) 
 is the admonition of a friend. It is a strange thing 
 to behold what gross errors and extreme absurdities 
 many (especially of the greater sort) do commit for 
 want of a friend to tell them of them, to the great 
 damage both of their fame and fortune : for, as St. 
 James saith, they are as men " that look sometimes 
 into a glass, and presently forget their own shape 
 and favour: " as for business, a man may think, if 
 he will, that two eyes see no more than one ; or, 
 that a gamester seeth always more than a looker- 
 on ; or, that a man in anger is as wise as he that 
 
100 ESSAYS. 
 
 hath said over the four and twenty letters ; or, that 
 a musket may be shot off as well upon the arm as 
 upon a rest ; and such other fond and high imagi- 
 nations, to think himself all in all: but when all is 
 done, the help of good counsel is that which setteth 
 business straight ; and if any man think that he 
 will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces; asking 
 counsel in one business of one man, and in another 
 business of another man ; it is well, (that is to say, 
 better, perhaps, than if he asked none at all,) but 
 he runneth two dangers ; one, that he shall not be 
 faithfully counselled ; for it is a rare thing, except 
 it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have 
 counsel given, but such as shall be bowed and 
 crooked to some ends which he hath that giveth it : 
 the other that he shall have counsel given, hurtful 
 and unsafe, (though with good meaning,) and mixed 
 partly of mischief, and partly of remedy; even 
 as if you would call a physician, that is thought 
 good for the cure of the disease you complain of, 
 but is unacquainted with your body; and, there- 
 fore, may put you in a way for a present cure, but 
 overthroweth your health in some other kind, and 
 so cure the disease, and kill the patient: but a 
 friend, that is wholly acquainted with a man's 
 estate, will beware, by furthering any present bu- 
 siness, how he dasheth upon other inconvenience ; 
 and, therefore, rest not upon scattered counsels ; 
 they will rather distract and mislead, than settle 
 and direct. 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. 101 
 
 After these two noble fruits of friendship, (peace 
 in the affections, and support of the judgment), 
 followeth the last fruit, which is, like the pomegra- 
 nate, full of many kernels ; I mean, aid and bear- 
 ing a part in all actions and occasions. Here the 
 best way to represent to life the manifold use of 
 friendship, is to cast and see how many things there 
 are which a man cannot do himself; and tf.ien it 
 will appear that it was a sparing speech of the an- 
 cients, to say, " that a friend is another himself; 
 for that a friend is far more than himself." Men 
 have their time, and die many times in desire of 
 some things which they principally take to heart ; 
 the bestowing of a child, the finishing of a work, 
 or the like. If a man have a true friend, he may 
 rest almost secure that the care of those things will 
 continue after him; so that a man hath, as it were, 
 two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and 
 that body is confined to a place : but where friend- 
 ship is, all offices of life are, as it were, granted 
 to him and his deputy ; for he may exercise them 
 by his friend. How many things are there, which 
 a man cannot, with any face, or comeliness, say or 
 do himself? A man can scarce allege his own me- 
 rits with modesty, much less extol them : a man 
 cannot sometimes brook to supplicate, or beg, and 
 a number of the like : but all these things are o'race- 
 ful in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in a 
 man's own. So again, a man's person hath many 
 proper relations which he cannot put off. A man 
 
102 ESSAYS. 
 
 cannot speak to his son but as a father ; to his wife 
 but as a husband ; to his enemy but upon terms : 
 whereas a friend may speak as the case requires, 
 and not as it sorteth with the person : but to enu- 
 merate these things were endless ; I have given the 
 rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part, 
 if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage. 
 
 XXVIII. OF EXPENCE. 
 
 RICHES are forspending, and spending forho- 
 nour and good actions ; therefore extraordinary 
 expence must be limited by the worth of the occasion ; 
 for voluntary undoing may be as well for a man's 
 country as for the kingdom of heaven ; but ordi- 
 nary expence ought to be limited by a man's estate, 
 and governed with such regard, as it be within his 
 compass ; and not subject to deceit and abuse of 
 servants; and ordered to the best shew, that the 
 bills may be less than the estimation abroad. Cer- 
 tainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his or- 
 dinary expences ought to be but to the half of his 
 receipts ; and if he think to wax rich, but to the 
 third part. It is no baseness for the greatest to 
 descend and look into their own estate. Some for- 
 bear it, not upon negligence alone, but doubting to 
 bring themselves into melancholy, in respect they 
 shall find it broken : but wounds cannot be cured 
 
ON' EX PENCE. 103 
 
 without searching. He that cannot look into his 
 own estate at all, had need both choose well those 
 whom he employeth, and change them often ; for 
 new are more timorous and less subtle. He that 
 can look into his estate but seldom, it behoveth him 
 to turn all to certainties. A man had need , if he be 
 plentiful in some kind of expence, to be as saving 
 again in some other : as if he be plentiful in diet, 
 to be saving in apparel : if he be plentiful in the 
 hall, to be saving in the stable, and the like ; for he 
 that is plentiful in expences of all kinds will hardly 
 be preserved from decay. In clearing of a man's 
 estate, he may as well hurt himself in being too 
 sudden, as in letting it run on too long ; for hasty 
 selling is commonly as disadvantageable as interest. 
 Besides, he that clears at once will relapse ; for find- 
 ing himself out of straits, he will revert to his cus- 
 toms : but he that cleareth by degrees induceth a 
 habit of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his 
 mind as upon his estate. Certainly, who hath a 
 state to repair, may not despise small things; and, 
 commonly, it is less dishonourable to abridge petty 
 charges than to stoop to petty gettings. A man 
 ought warily to begin charges, which once begun 
 will continue : but in matters that return not, he 
 may be more magnificent. 
 
104 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 XXIX. OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KING- 
 DOMS AND ESTATES. 
 
 THE speech of Themis tocles, the Athenian, 
 which was haughty and arrogant, in taking so 
 much to himself, had been a grave and wise obser- 
 vation and censure, applied at large to others. — 
 Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said, u He 
 could not fiddle, but yet he could make a small 
 town a great city." These words (holpen a little 
 with a metaphor) may express two differing abi- 
 lities in those that deal in business of estate ; for, 
 if a true survey be taken of counsellors and states- 
 men, there may be found, (though rarely) those 
 which can make a small state great, and yet can- 
 not fiddle : as, on the other side, there will be found 
 a great many that can fiddle very cunningly, but 
 yet are so far from being able to make a small state 
 great, as their gift lieth the other way ; to bring 
 a great and flourishing estate to ruin and decay ; 
 and, certainly, those degenerate arts and shifts, 
 whereby many counsellors and governors gain both 
 favour with their masters, and estimation with the 
 vulgar, deserve no better name than fiddling ; being 
 things rather pleasing for the time, and graceful to 
 themselves only, than tending to the weal and ad- 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 105 
 
 vancement of the state which they serve. There 
 are also (no doubt) counsellors and governors which 
 may be held sufficient, " negotiis pares," able to 
 manage affairs, and to keep them from precipices 
 and manifest inconveniences ; which, nevertheless, 
 are far from the ability to raise and amplify an 
 estate in power, means, and fortune: but be the 
 workmen what they may be, let us speak of the 
 work ; that is, the true greatness of kingdoms and 
 estates, and the means thereof. An argument fit 
 for great and mighty princes to have in their hand ; 
 to the end, that neither by over-measuring their 
 forces, they lose themselves in vain enterprises : 
 nor, on the other side, by undervaluing them, they 
 descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels. 
 
 The greatness of an estate, in bulk and terri- 
 tory, doth fall under measure ; and the greatness 
 of finances and revenue doth fall under computa- 
 tion. The population may appear by musters ; and 
 the number and greatness of cities and towns by 
 cards and maps ; but yet there is not any thing, 
 amongst civil affairs, more subject to error than the 
 right valuation and true judgment concerning the 
 power and forces of an estate. The kingdom of 
 heaven is compared, not to any great kernel, or 
 nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed ; which is one 
 of the least grains, but hath in it a property and 
 spirit hastily to get up and spread. So are there 
 states great in territory, and yet not apt to enlarge 
 
106 ESSAYS. 
 
 or command : and some that have but a small di- 
 mension of stem, and yet apt to be the foundations 
 of great monarchies. 
 
 Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, 
 goodly races of horse, chariots of war, elephants, 
 ordnance, artillery, and the like ; all this is but a 
 sheep in a lion's skin, except the breed and dispo- 
 sition of the people be stout and warlike. Nay, 
 number (itself) in armies importeth not much, 
 where the people is of weak courage ; for, as Vir- 
 gil saith, " It never troubles a wolf how many the 
 sheep be." The army of the Persians in the plains 
 of Arbela was such a vast sea of people, as it did 
 somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander's 
 army, who came to him, therefore, and wished him 
 to set upon them by night; but he answered, " He 
 would not pilfer the victory ; " and the defeat was 
 easy. When Tigranes, the Arminian, being en- 
 camped upon a hill with four hundred thousand 
 men, discovered the army of the Romans, being 
 not above fourteen thousand, marching towards 
 him, he made himself merry with it, and said, 
 " Yonder men are too many for an ambassage, and 
 too few for a fight ;" but before the sun set, he 
 found them enow to give him the chase with infi- 
 nite slaughter. Many are the examples of the great 
 odds between number and courage : so that a man 
 may truly make a judgment, that the principal point 
 of greatness, in any state, is to have a race of mi- 
 litary men. Neither is money the sinews of war 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 107 
 
 (as it is trivially said), where the sinews of men's 
 arms in base and effeminate people are failing ; for 
 Solon said well to Croesus (when in ostentation he 
 shewed him his gold), " Sir, if any other come that 
 hath better iron than you, he will be master of all 
 this gold." Therefore, let any prince, or state, 
 think soberly of his forces, except his militia of 
 natives be of good and valiant soldiers ; and let 
 princes, on the other side, that have subjects of 
 martial disposition, know their own strength, un- 
 less they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. 
 As for mercenary forces (which is the help in this 
 case,) all examples show that, whatsoever estate, 
 or prince, doth rest upon them, he may spread his 
 feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon after. 
 The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never 
 meet ; that the same people, or nation, should be 
 both the lion's whelp and the ass between burdens ; 
 neither will it be, that a people overlaid with taxes 
 should ever become valiant and martial. It is true, 
 that taxes, levied by consent of the estate, do abate 
 men's courage less ; as it hath been seen notably 
 in the excises of the Low Countries; and, in some 
 degree, in the subsidies of England; for, you must 
 note, that we speak now of the heart, and not of 
 the purse ; so that, although the same tribute and 
 tax laid by consent or by imposing, be all one to 
 the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage. 
 So that you may conclude, that no people over- 
 charged with tribute is fit for empire. 
 
108 ESSAYS. 
 
 Let states, that aim at greatness, take heed how 
 their nobility and gentlemen do multiply too fast ; 
 for that maketh the common subject grow to be a 
 peasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and, 
 in effect but the gentleman's labourer. Even as 
 you may see in coppice woods ; if you leave your 
 staddles too thick, you shall never have clean un- 
 derwood, but shrubs and bushes. So in countries, 
 if the gentlemen be too many, the commons will be 
 base ; and you will bring it to that, that not the 
 hundredth poll will be fit for a helmet; especially 
 as to the infantry, which is the nerve of an army ; 
 and so there will he great population and little 
 strength. This which I speak of hath been no 
 where better seen than by comparing of England 
 and France ; whereof England, though far less in 
 territory and population, hath been (nevertheless) 
 an overmatch ; in regard the middle people of Eng- 
 land make good soldiers, which the peasants of 
 France do not: and herein the device of king- 
 Henry the Seventh (whereof I have spoken largely 
 in the history of his life) was profound and admir- 
 able ; in making farms and houses of husbandry 
 of a standard ; that is, maintained with such a pro- 
 portion of land unto them as may breed a subject 
 to live in convenient plenty, and no servile condi- 
 tion ; and to keep the plough in the hands of the 
 owners, and not mere hirelings ; and thus indeed 
 you shall attain to Virgil's character, which he 
 gives to ancient Italy : 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 109 
 
 " Terra potens armis atque ubere glebab." 
 Neither is that state (which, for any thing" I 
 know, is almost peculiar to England, and hardly 
 to he found any where else, except it be, perhaps, 
 in Poland) to be passed over ; I mean the state of 
 free servants and attendants upon noblemen and 
 gentlemen, which are no ways inferior unto the 
 yeomanry for arms; and, therefore, out of all ques- 
 tion, the splendour and magnificence, and great 
 retinues, and hospitality of noblemen and gentle- 
 men received into custom, do much conduce unto 
 martial greatness ; whereas, contrariwise, the close 
 and reserved living of noblemen and gentlemen 
 causeth a penury of military forces. 
 
 By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk 
 of Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy be great 
 enough to bear the branches and the boughs ; that 
 i is, that the natural subjects of the crown, or state, 
 bear a sufficient proportion to the stranger subjects 
 that they govern ; therefore all states that are liberal 
 of naturalization towards strangers are fit for em- 
 pire : for to think that a handful of people can, 
 with the greatest courage and policy in the world, 
 embrace too large extent of dominion, it may hold 
 for a time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans 
 were a nice people in point of naturalization ; 
 whereby, while they kept their compass, they stood 
 firm ; but when they did spread, and their boughs 
 were become too great for their stem, they became 
 a windfall upon the sudden. Never any state was, 
 
110 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 in this point, so open to receive strangers into their 
 body as were the Romans ; therefore it sorted with 
 them accordingly, for they grew to the greatest 
 monarchy. Their manner was to grant naturaliza- 
 tion (which they called "jus civitatis"),and to grant 
 it in the highest degree, that is, not only "jus com- 
 mercii, jus connubii, jus hsereditatis ; " but also, 
 "jus suffragii, ,, and "jus honorum;" and this not 
 to singular persons alone, but likewise to w T hole 
 families ; yea, to cities, and sometimes to nations. 
 Add to this their custom of plantation of colonies, 
 whereby the Roman plant was removed into the 
 soil of other nations, and, putting both constitutions 
 together, you will say, that it was not the Romans 
 that spread upon the world, but it was the world 
 that spread upon the Romans ; and that was the 
 sure way of greatness. I have marvelled sometimes 
 at Spain, how they clasp and contain so large do- 
 minions with so few natural Spaniards ; but sure 
 the whole compass of Spain is a very great body of 
 a tree, far above Rome and Sparta at the first; and, 
 besides, though they have not had that usage to 
 naturalize liberally, yet they have that which is 
 next to it; that is, to employ, almost indifferently, 
 all nations in their militia of ordinary soldiers ; yea, 
 and sometimes in their highest commands ; nay, it 
 seemeth, at this instant, they are sensible of this 
 want of natives ; as by the pragmatical sanction, 
 now published, appeareth. 
 
 It is certain, that sedentary and within-door arts, 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. Ill 
 
 and delicate manufactures (that require rather the 
 finger than the arm), have in their nature a contra- 
 riety to a military disposition ; and generally all 
 warlike people are a little idle, and love danger 
 better than travail ; neither must they be too much 
 broken of it, if they shall be preserved in vigour : 
 therefore it was great advantage in the ancient 
 states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that 
 they had the use of slaves, which commonly did rid 
 those manufactures ; but that is abolished, in great- 
 est part, by the Christian law. That which cometh 
 nearest to it is, to leave those arts chiefly to stran- 
 gers (which, for that purpose, are the more easily 
 to be received), and to contain the principal bulk 
 of the vulgar natives within those three kinds, til- 
 lers of the ground, free servants, and handicrafts- 
 men of strong and manly arts; as smiths, masons, 
 carpenters, &c. not reckoning professed soldiers. 
 
 But, above all, for empire and greatness, it im- 
 porteth most, that a nation do profess arms as their 
 principal honour, study, and occupation ; for the 
 things which we formerly have spoken of are but 
 habilitations towards arms ; and what is habilitation 
 without intention and act ? Romulus, after his 
 death, (as they report or feign), sent a present to 
 the Romans, that above all they should intend arms, 
 and then they should prove the greatest empire of 
 the world. The fabric of the state of Sparta was 
 wholly (though not wisely) framed and composed 
 to that scope and end ; the Persians and Macedo- 
 
1 ] 2 ESSAYS. 
 
 nians had it for a flash ; the Gauls , Germans, Goths, I 
 Saxons, Normans, and others, had it for a time : 
 the Turks have it at this day, though in great de- 
 clination. Of Christian Europe, they that have it 
 are, in effect, only the Spaniards : but it is so plain, . 
 that every man profiteth in that he mostintendeth, 
 that it needeth not to be stood upon : it is enough 
 to point at it ; that no nation which doth not directly 
 profess arms, may look to have greatness fall into 
 their mouths ; and, on the other side, it is a most 
 certain oracle of time, that those states that conti- 
 nue long in that profession (as the Romans and 
 Turks principally have done) do wonders ; and those 
 that have professed arms but for an age have, not- 
 withstanding, commonly attained that greatness in 
 that age which maintained them long after, when 
 their profession and exercise of arms had grown to 
 decay. 
 
 Incident to this point, is for a state to have those 
 laws or customs which may reach forth unto them 
 just occasions (as may be pretended) of war ; for 
 there is that justice imprinted in the nature of men, 
 that they enter not upon wars (whereof so many 
 calamities do ensue), but upon some, at the least 
 specious grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at 
 hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law 
 or sect, a quarrel that he^may always command. 
 The Romans, though they esteemed the extending 
 the limits of their empire to be great honour to 
 their generals when it was done, yet they never 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 113 
 
 rested upon that alone to begin a war : first, there- 
 fore, let nations that pretend to greatness have this, 
 that they be sensible of wrongs, either upon bor- 
 derers, merchants, or politic ministers ; and that 
 they sit not too long upon a provocation : secondly, 
 let them be pressed and ready to give aids and suc- 
 cours to their confederates ; as it ever was with the 
 Romans ; insomuch, as if the confederates had 
 leagues defensive with divers other states, and, 
 upon invasion offered, did implore their aids seve- 
 rally, yet the Romans would ever be the foremost, 
 and leave it to none other to have the honour. As 
 for the wars, which were anciently made on the 
 behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of 
 estate, I do not see how they may be well justified : 
 as when the Romans made a war for the liberty of 
 Grsecia : or, when the Lacedaemonians and Athe- 
 nians made wars to set up or pull down democra- 
 cies and oligarchies : or when wars were made by 
 foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protec- 
 tion, to deliver the subjects of others from tyranny 
 and oppression, and the like. Let it suffice, that 
 no estate expect to be great, that is not awake, upon 
 any just occasion of arming. 
 
 Nobody can be healthful without exercise, nei- 
 ther natural body nor politic ; and, certainly, to a 
 kingdom, or estate, a just and honourable war is 
 the true exercise. A civil war, indeed, is like the 
 heat of a fever ; but a foreign war is like the heat 
 of exercise, andserveth to keep the body in health ; 
 I 
 
114 ESSAYS. 
 
 for, in a slothful peace, both courages will effemi- 
 nate and manners corrupt ; but howsoever it be for 
 happiness, without all question for greatness, it 
 maketh to be still for the most part in arms ; and 
 the strength of a veteran army (though it be a 
 chargeable business), always on foot, is that which 
 commonly giveth the law ; or, at least, the reputa- 
 tion amongst all neighbour states, as may well be 
 seen in Spain, which hath had, in one part or other, 
 a veteran army almost continually, now by the space 
 of six score years. 
 
 To be master of the sea is an abridgment of a 
 monarchy. Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompey's 
 preparation against Caesar, saith, " Consilium Pom- 
 peii plane Themistocleum est; putat enim, qui 
 mari potitur, eum rerum potiri ;" and, without 
 doubt, Pompey had tired out Caesar, if upon vain 
 confidence he had not left that way. We see the 
 great effects of battles by sea : the battle of Actium 
 decided the empire of the world ; the battle of Le- 
 panto arrested the greatness of the Turk. There 
 be many examples where sea fights have been final 
 to the war: but this is when princes, or states, have 
 set up their rest upon the battles ; but thus much 
 is certain, that he that commands the sea is at great 
 liberty, and may take as much and as little of the 
 war as he will ; whereas those that be strongest by 
 land are many times, nevertheless, in great straits. 
 Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, the vantage 
 of strength at sea (which is one of the principal 
 
GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 115 
 
 dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) is great ; 
 both because most of the kingdoms of Europe are 
 not merely inland, but girt with the sea most part 
 of their compass ; and because the wealth of both 
 Indies seems, in great part, but an accessary to the 
 command of the seas. 
 
 The wars of later ages seem to be made in the 
 dark, in respect to the glory and honour which re- 
 flected upon men from the wars in ancient time. 
 There be now, for martial encouragement, some 
 degrees and orders of chivalry, which nevertheless, 
 are conferred promiscuously upon soldiers and no 
 soldiers, and some remembrance perhaps upon the 
 escutcheon, and some hospitals for maimed soldiers, 
 and such like things ; but in ancient times, the tro- 
 phies erected upon the place of the victory ; the 
 funeral laudatives and monuments for those that 
 died in the wars ; the crowns and garlands perso- 
 nal ; the style of emperor, which the great kings of 
 the world after borrowed; the triumphs of the ge- 
 nerals upon their return ; the great donatives and 
 largesses upon the disbanding of the armies, were 
 things able to inflame all men's courages ; but 
 above all, that of the triumph amongst the Romans 
 was not pageants, orgaudery, but one of the wisest 
 and noblest institutions that ever was ; for it con- 
 tained three things, honour to the general, riches 
 to the treasury out of the spoils, and donatives to 
 the army : but that honour, perhaps, were not fit 
 for monarchies, except it be in the person of the 
 
116 ESSAYS. 
 
 monarch himself, or his sons ; as it came to pass in 
 the times of the Roman emperors, who did impro- 
 priate the actual triumphs to themselves and their 
 sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person, 
 and left only for wars achieved by subjects, some 
 triumphal garments and ensigns to the general. 
 
 To conclude : no man can by care taking (as the 
 Scripture saith), " add a cubit to his stature," in 
 this little model of a man's body ; but in the great 
 fame of kingdoms and commonwealths, it is in the 
 power of princes, or estates, to add amplitude and 
 greatness to their kingdoms ; for by introducing 
 such ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as 
 we have now touched, they may sow greatness to 
 their posterity and succession : but these things are 
 commonly not observed, but left to take, their 
 chance. 
 
 XXX. OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 
 
 THERE is a wisdom in this beyond the rules 
 of physic : a man's own observation, what he 
 finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is the best 
 physic to preserve health ; but it is a safer conclu- 
 sion to say, " This agreeth not well with me, there- 
 fore I will not continue it;" than this, " I find no 
 offence of this, therefore I may use it:" for strength 
 of nature in youth passeth over many excesses 
 
OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH. 117 
 
 which are owing a man till his age. Discern of 
 the coming on of years, and think not to do the same 
 things still; for age will not be defied. Beware 
 of sudden change in any great point of diet, and ? 
 if necessity enforce it, fit the rest to it ; for it is a 
 secret both in nature and state, that it is safer to 
 change many things than one. Examine thy cus- 
 toms of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like ; 
 and try, in any thing thou shalt judge hurtful, 
 to discontinue it by little and little ; but so, as if 
 thou dost find any inconvenience by the change, 
 thou come back to it again : for it is hard to dis- 
 tinguish that which is generally held good and 
 wholesome, from that which is good particularly, 
 and fit for thine own body. To be free-minded 
 and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of 
 sleep, and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of 
 long lasting. As for the passions and studies of the 
 mind, avoid envy, anxious fears, anger, fretting in- 
 wards, subtle and knotty inquisitions, joys, and ex- 
 hilarations in excess, sadness not communicated. 
 Entertain hopes, mirth rather than joy, variety of 
 delights, rather than surfeit of them; wonder and 
 admiration, and therefore novelties ; studies that 
 fill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, 
 as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature. 
 If you fly physic in health altogether, it will be too 
 strange for your body when you shall need it ; if you 
 make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary 
 effect when sickness cometh. I commend rather 
 
118 ESSAYS. 
 
 some diet, for certain seasons, than frequent use of 
 physic, except it be grown into a custom ; for those 
 diets alter the body more, and trouble it less. Des- 
 pise no new accident in your body, but ask opinion 
 of it. In sickness, respect health principally; and 
 in health, action : for those that put their bodies to 
 endure in health, may, in most sicknesses which 
 are not very sharp, be cured only with diet and 
 tendering. Celsus could never have spoken it as 
 a physician, had he not been a wise man withal, 
 when he giveth it for one of the great precepts of 
 health and lasting, that a man do vary and inter- 
 change contraries, but with an inclination to the 
 more benign extreme : use fasting and full eating, 
 but rather full eating ; watching and sleep, but ra- 
 ther sleep ; sitting and exercise, but rather exer- 
 cise, and the like : so shall nature be cherished, 
 and yet taught masteries. Physicians are some of 
 them so pleasing and conformable to the humour 
 of the patient, as they press not the true cure of 
 the disease ; and some other are so regular in pro- 
 ceeding according to art for the disease, as they 
 respect not sufficiently the condition of the patient. 
 Take one of a middle temper ; or, if it may not be 
 found in one man, combine two of either sort ; and 
 forget not to call as well the best acquainted with 
 your body, as the best reputed of for his faculty. 
 
119 
 
 XXXI. OF SUSPICION. 
 
 SUSPICIONS among thoughts are like bats 
 among birds, they ever fly by twilight : cer- 
 tainly they are to be repressed, or at the least well 
 guarded ; for they cloud the mind, they lose friends, 
 and they check with business, whereby business 
 cannot go on currently and constantly : they dispose 
 kings to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men 
 to irresolution and melancholy : they are defects, 
 not in the heart, but in the brain ; for they take 
 place in the stoutest natures, as in the example of 
 Henry the Seventh of England ; there was not a 
 more suspicious man nor a more stout: and in such 
 a composition they do small hurt; for commonly 
 they are not admitted, but with examination, whe- 
 ther they be likely or no ? but in fearful natures 
 they gain ground too fast. There is nothing makes a 
 man suspect much, more than to know little; and, 
 therefore, men should remedy suspicion by procur- 
 ing to know more, and not to keep their suspicions 
 in smother. What would men have ? do they think 
 those they employ and deal with are saints ? do they 
 not think they will have their own ends, and be 
 truer to themselves than to them? therefore there 
 is no better way to moderate suspicions, than to ac- 
 count upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle 
 
120 ESSAYS. 
 
 them as false : for so far a man ought to make use 
 of suspicions, as to provide, as if that should be 
 true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt. 
 Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers are but 
 buzzes ; but suspicions that are artificially nou- 
 rished, and put into men's heads by the tales and 
 whisperings of others, have stings. Certainly, the 
 best mean, to clear the way in this same wood of 
 suspicions, is frankly to communicate them with 
 the party that he suspects ; for thereby he shall 
 be sure to know more of the truth of them than 
 he did before ; and withal shall make that party 
 more circumspect, not to give further cause of 
 suspicion ; but this would not be done to men of 
 base natures ; for they, if they find themselves 
 once suspected, will never be true. The Italian 
 says, " Sospetto licentia fede ;" as if suspicion did 
 give a passport to faith; but it ought rather to 
 kindle it to discharge itself. 
 
 XXXII. OF DISCOURSE. 
 
 SOME in their discourse desire rather commen- 
 dation of wit, in being able to hold all argu- 
 ments, than of judgment, in discerning what is 
 true; as if it were a praise to know what might ll 
 be said, and not what should be thought. Some 
 have certain common places and themes, wherein 
 
OF DISCOURSE. 121 
 
 they are good, and want variety ; which kind of 
 poverty is for the most part tedious, and, when it 
 is once perceived, ridiculous. The honourablest 
 part of talk is to give the occasion ; and again to 
 moderate and pass to somewhat else, for then a 
 man leads the dance. It is good in discourse, and 
 speech of conversation, to vary and intermingle 
 speech of the present occasion with arguments, 
 tales with reasons, asking of questions with telling 
 of opinions, and jest with earnest ; for it is a dull 
 thing to tire, and as we say now, to jade any thing 
 too far. As for jest, there be certain things which 
 ought to be privileged from it ; namely, religion, 
 matters of state, great persons, any man's present 
 business of importance, and any case that de- 
 serveth pity; yet there be some thfit think their 
 wits have been asleep, except they dart out some- 
 what that is piquant, and to the quick ; that is a 
 vein which would be bridled ; 
 
 " Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris." 
 
 And, generally, men ought to find the difference 
 between saltness and bitterness. Certainly, he that 
 hath a satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid of 
 his wit, so he had need be afraid of others' memory* 
 He that questioneth much, shall learn much, and 
 content much ; but especially if he apply his ques- 
 tions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh ; 
 for he shall give them occasion to please them- 
 selves in speaking, and himself shall continually 
 
122 ESSAYS. 
 
 gather knowledge ; but let his questions not be 
 troublesome, for that is fit for a poser ; and let 
 him be sure to leave other men their turns to 
 speak : nay, if there be any that would reign and 
 take up all the time, let him find means to take 
 them off, and to bring others on, as musicians use 
 to do with those that dance too long galliards. If 
 you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of that 
 you are thought to know, you shall be thought, 
 another time, to know that you know not. Speech 
 of a man's self ought to be seldom, and well 
 chosen. I knew one was wont to say in scorn, 
 " He must needs be a wise man, he speaks so 
 much of himself :" and there is but one case 
 wherein a man may commend himself with good 
 grace, and that is in commending virtue in another, 
 especially if it be such a virtue whereunto himself 
 pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others should 
 be sparingly used ; for discourse ought to be as a 
 field, without coming home to any man. I knew 
 two noblemen, of the west part of England, whereof 
 the one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal 
 cheer in his house ; the other would ask of those 
 that had been at the other's table, " Tell truly, 
 was there never a flout or dry blow given ?" To 
 which the guest would answer, " Such and such 
 a thing passed." The lord would say, " I thought 
 he would mar a good dinner." Discretion of 
 speech is more than eloquence ; and to speak 
 agreeable to him with whom we deal, is more than 
 
OF DISCOURSE. 123 
 
 to speak in good words, or in good order. A good 
 continued speech, without a good speech of inter- 
 locution, shews slowness; and a good reply, or 
 second speech, without a good settled speech, 
 sheweth shallowness and weakness. As we see in 
 beasts, that those that are weakest in the course, 
 are yet nimblest in the turn ; as it is betwixt the 
 greyhound and the hare. To use too many cir- 
 cumstances, ere one come to the matter, is weari- 
 some : to use none at all is blunt. 
 
 XXXIII. OF PLANTATIONS. 
 
 PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primi- 
 tive, and heroical works. When the world 
 was young it begat more children ; but now it is 
 old it begets fewer : for I may justly account new 
 plantations to be the children of former king- 
 doms. I like a plantation in a pure soil ; that is, 
 where people are not displanted to the end to plant 
 in others ; for else it is rather an extirpation than 
 a plantation. Planting of countries is like plant- 
 ing of woods ; for you must make account to lose 
 almost twenty years profit, and expect your re- 
 compense in the end : for the principal thing that 
 hath been the destruction of most plantations, hath 
 been the base and hasty drawing of profit in the 
 first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be 
 
124 ESSAYS. 
 
 neglected, as far as may stand with the good of 
 the plantation, but no further. It is a shameful 
 and unblessed thing to take the scum of people 
 and wicked condemned men, to be the people with 
 whom you plant ; and not only so, but it spoileth 
 the plantation ; for they will ever live like rogues, 
 and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, 
 and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and 
 then certify over to their country to the discredit 
 of the plantation. The people wherewith you 
 plant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, labourers, 
 smiths, carpenters, joiners, fishermen, fowlers, 
 with some few apothecaries, surgeons, cooks, and 
 bakers. In a country of plantation, first look 
 about what kind of victual the country yields of 
 itself to hand : as chestnuts, walnuts, pine-apples, 
 olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the 
 like, and make use of them. Then consider what 
 victual, or esculent things there are, which grow 
 speedily, and within the year ; as parsnips, carrots, 
 turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Jerusalem, 
 maize, and the like : for wheat, barley, and oats, 
 they ask too much labour ; but with pease and 
 beans you may begin, both because they ask less 
 labour, and because they serve for meat as well as 
 for bread; and of rice likewise cometh a great 
 increase, and it is a kind of meat. Above all, 
 there ought to be brought store of biscuit, oat- 
 meal, flour, meal, and the like, in the beginning, 
 till bread may be had. For beasts, or birds, take 
 
OF PLANTATIONS. 125 
 
 chiefly such as are least subject to diseases, and 
 multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, 
 turkeys, geese, house-doves, and the like. The 
 victual in plantations ought to be expended almost 
 as in a besieged town ; that is, with certain allow- 
 ance : and let the main part of the ground em- 
 ployed to gardens or corn, be to a common stock ; 
 and to be laid in, and stored up, and then delivered 
 out in proportion ; besides some spots of ground 
 that any particular person will manure for his own 
 private use. Consider, likewise, what commodi- 
 ties the soil where the plantation is doth naturally 
 yield, that they may some way help to defray the 
 charge of the plantation ; so it be not, as was said, 
 to the untimely prejudice of the main business, as 
 it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood 
 commonly aboundeth but too much ; and therefore 
 timber is fit to be one. If there be iron ore, and 
 streams whereupon to set the mills, iron is a brave 
 commodity where wood aboundeth. Making of 
 bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would be 
 put in experience : growing silk, likewise, if any 
 be, is a likely commodity : pitch and tar, where 
 store of firs and pines are, will not fail ; so drugs 
 and sweet woods, where they are, cannot but yield 
 great profit : soap-ashes likewise, and other things 
 that may be thought of; but moil not too much 
 under ground, for the hope of mines is very un- 
 certain, and useth to make the planters lazy in 
 other things. For government, let it be in the 
 
126 ESSAYS. 
 
 hands of one, assisted with some counsel ; and let 
 them have commission to exercise martial laws, 
 with some limitation ; and above all, let men make 
 that profit of being in the wilderness,' as they have 
 God always, and his service before their eyes : 
 let not the government of the plantation depend 
 upon too many counsellors and undertakers in the 
 country that planteth, but upon a temperate num- 
 ber ; and let those be rather noblemen and gentle- 
 men, than merchants; for they look ever to the 
 present gain : let there be freedoms from custom, 
 till the plantations be of strength; and not only 
 freedom from custom, but freedom to carry their 
 commodities where they may make their best of 
 them, except there be some special cause of cau- 
 tion. Cram not in people, by sending too fast, 
 company after company ; but rather hearken how 
 they waste, and send supplies proportionably ; but 
 so as the number may live well in the plantation, 
 and not by surcharge be in penury. It hath been 
 a great endangering to the health of some planta- 
 tions, that they have built along the sea and rivers, 
 in marish and unwholesome grounds: therefore, 
 though you begin there, to avoid carriage and 
 other like discommodities, yet build still rather 
 upwards from the stream, than along. It con- 
 cerneth likewise the health of the plantation that 
 they have good store of salt with them, that they 
 may use it in their victuals when it shall be ne- 
 cessary. If you plant where savages are, do not 
 
OF PLANTATIONS. 127 
 
 only entertain them with trifles and gingles, but use 
 them justly and graciously, with sufficient guard 
 nevertheless ; and do not win their favour by help- 
 ing them to invade their enemies, but for their de- 
 fence it is not amiss ; and send oft of them over to 
 the country that plants, that they may see a better 
 condition than their own, and commend it when 
 they return. When the plantation grows to strength, 
 then it is time to plant with women as well as with 
 men ; that the plantation may spread into genera- 
 tions, and not be ever pieced from without. It is 
 the sinfullest thing in the world to forsake or des- 
 titute a plantation once in forwardness ; for, be- 
 sides the dishonour, it is the guiltiness of blood of 
 many commiserable persons. 
 
 XXXIV. OF RICHES. 
 
 I CAN NOT call riches better than the baggage 
 of virtue; the Roman word is better, "impedi- 
 menta;" for as the baggage is to an army, so is 
 riches to virtue ; it cannot be spared nor left be- 
 hind, but it hindereth the march ; yea, and the care 
 of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory; of 
 great riches there is no real use, except it be in the 
 distribution ; the rest is but conceit ; so saith So- 
 lomon, " Where much is, there are many to con- 
 sume it ; and what hath the owner but the sight of 
 
128 ESSAYS. 
 
 it with his eyes ? " The personal fruition in any 
 man cannot reach to feel great riches : there is a 
 custody of them ; or a power of dole and donative 
 of them ; or a fame of them ; but no solid use to 
 the owner. Do you not see what feigned prices 
 are set upon little stones and rarities? and what 
 works of ostentation are undertaken, because there 
 might seem to be some use of great riches ? But 
 then you will say, they may be of use to buy men out 
 of dangers or troubles; as Solomon saith, " Riches 
 are as a strong hold in the imagination of the rich 
 man;" but this is excellently expressed, that it is 
 in imagination, and not always in fact : for, cer- 
 tainly, great riches have sold more men than they 
 have bought out. Seek not proud riches, but such 
 as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute 
 cheerfully, and leave contentedly ; yet have no ab- 
 stract or friarly contempt of them ; but distinguish, 
 as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Posthumus, " In 
 studio rei amplificandee apparebat, non avaritise prae- 
 dam, sed instrumentum bonitati quseri." Hearken 
 also to Solomon, and beware of hasty gathering of 
 riches; "Qui festinat ad divitias, non erit insons.' , 
 The poets feign, that when Plutus (which is riches) 
 is sent from Jupiter, he limps, and goes slowly ; 
 but when he is sent from Pluto, he runs, and is 
 swift of foot ; meaning, that riches gotten by good 
 means and just labour pace slowly ; but when they 
 come by the death of others (as by the course of 
 inheritance, testaments, and the like), they come 
 
OF RICHES. 129 
 
 tumbling upon a man : but it might be applied like- 
 wise to Pluto, taking him for the devil : for when 
 riches come from the devil (as by fraud and oppres- 
 sion, and unjust means), they come upon speed. 
 The ways to enrich are many, and most of them 
 foul : parsimony is one of the best, and yet is not 
 innocent ; for it withholdeth men from works of 
 liberality and charity. The improvement of the 
 ground is the most natural obtaining of riches ; for 
 it is our great mother's blessing, the earth's ; but 
 it is slow ; and yet, where men of great wealth do 
 stoop to husbandry, it multiplieth riches exceed- 
 ingly. 1 knew a nobleman in England that had 
 the greatest audits of any man in my time, a great 
 grazier, a great sheep master, a great timber man, 
 a great collier, a great corn master, a great lead 
 man, and so of iron, and a number of the like 
 points of husbandry ; so as the earth seemed a sea 
 to him in respect of the perpetual importation. It 
 was truly observed by one, " That himself came 
 very hardly to a little riches, and very easily to 
 great riches ; " for when a man's stock is come to 
 that, that he can expect the prime of markets, and 
 overcome those bargains, which for their greatness 
 are few men's money, and be partner in the in- 
 dustries of younger men, he cannot but increase 
 mainly. The gains of ordinary trades and vocations 
 are honest, and furthered by two things, chiefly, 
 by diligence, and by a good name for good and 
 fair dealing ; but the gains of bargains are of a 
 
 K 
 
130 ESSAYS. 
 
 more doubtful nature, when men shall wait upon 
 others' necessity : broke by servants and instruments 
 to draw them on; put off others cunningly that 
 would be better chapmen, and the like practices, 
 which are crafty and naughty ; as for the chopping 
 of bargains, when a man buys not to hold, but to 
 sell over again, that commonly grindeth double, 
 both upon the seller and upon the buyer. Sharings 
 do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that 
 are trusted. Usury is the certainest means of gain, 
 though one of the worst, as that whereby a man 
 doth eat his bread, "in sudore vultiis alieni;" and 
 besides, doth plough upon Sundays: but yet cer- 
 tain though it be, it hath flaws ; for that the scri- 
 veners and brokers do value unsound men to serve 
 their own turn. The fortune, in being the first in 
 an invention, or in a privilege, doth cause some- 
 times a wonderful overgrowth in riches, as it was 
 with the first sugar man in the Canaries : there- 
 fore, if a man can play the true logician, to have 
 as well judgment as invention, he may do great 
 matters, especially if the times be fit: he that rest- 
 eth upon gains certain, shall hardly grow to great 
 riches ; and he that puts all upon adventures, doth 
 oftentimes break and come to poverty : it is good, 
 therefore, to guard adventures with certainties that 
 may uphold losses. Monopolies, and coemption of 
 wares for re-sale, where they are not restrained, 
 are great means to enrich ; especially if the party 
 have intelligence what things are like to come into 
 
OF RICHES. 
 
 request, and so store himself beforehand. Riches 
 gotten by service, though it be of the best rise, yet 
 when they are gotten by flattery, feeding humours, 
 and other servile conditions, they may be placed 
 amongst the worst. As for fishing for testaments 
 and executorships (as Tacitus saith of Seneca, " Tes- 
 tamenta et orbos tamquam indagine capi,") it is yet 
 •worse, by how much men submit themselves to 
 meaner persons than in service. Believe not much 
 them, that seem to despise riches, for they despise 
 them that despair of them ; and none worse when 
 they come to them. Be not penny-wise ; riches 
 have wings, and sometimes they fly away of them- 
 selves, sometimes they must be set flying to bring 
 in more. Men leave their riches either to their 
 kindred, or to the public ; and moderate portions 
 prosper best in both. A great state left to an heir, 
 is as a lure to all the birds of prey round about to 
 seize on him, if he be not the better established in 
 years and judgment: likewise, glorious gifts and 
 foundations are like sacrifices without salt; and but 
 the painted sepulchres of alms, which soon will 
 putrefy and corrupt inwardly : therefore measure 
 not thine advancements by quantity, but frame them 
 by measure : and defer not charities till death ; for, 
 certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth 
 so is rather liberal of another man's than of his 
 
 own. 
 
] 32 ESSAYS. 
 
 XXXV. OF PROPHECIES. 
 
 I ME AN not to speak of divine prophecies, nor 
 of heathen oracles, nor of natural predictions ; 
 but only of prophecies that have been of certain 
 memory, and from hidden causes. Saith the Py- 
 thonissa to Saul, " To-morrow thou and thy son 
 shall be with me." Virgil hath these verses from 
 Homer : 
 
 " Hie domus iEneae cunctis dominabitur oris, 
 Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis. " 
 
 A prophecy as it seems of the Roman empire. Se- 
 neca the tragedian hath these verses : 
 
 " Venient annis 
 
 Saecula seris, quibus Oceanus 
 Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
 Pateat Tellus, Tiphysque novos 
 Detegat orbes ; nee sit terris 
 Ultima Thule:" 
 
 a prophecy of the discovery of America. The 
 daughter of Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed 
 her father, and Apollo anointed him ; and it came 
 to pass that he was crucified in an open place, where 
 the sun made his body run with sweat, and the rain 
 washed it. Philip of Macedon dreamed he sealed 
 up his wife's belly; whereby he did expound it, that 
 his wife should be barren ; but Aristander the sooth- 
 
OF PROPHECIES. 133 
 
 sayer told him his wife was with child, because men 
 do not use to seal vessels that are empty. A phan- 
 tasm that appeared to M. Brutus in his tent, said 
 to him, " Philippis iterum me videbis." Tiberius 
 said to Galba, "Tu quoque, Galba, degustabis im- 
 perium.' , In Vespasian's time there went a pro- 
 phecy in the East, that those that should come forth 
 of Judea, should reign over the world ; which though 
 it may be was meant of our Saviour, yet Tacitus 
 expounds it of Vespasian. Domitian dreamed, the 
 night before he was slain, that a golden head was 
 growing out of the nape of his neck ; and indeed 
 the succession that followed him, for many years, 
 made golden times. Henry the Sixth of England 
 said of Henry the Seventh, when he was a lad, and 
 gave him water, " This is the lad that shall enjoy 
 the crown for which we strive." When I was in 
 France, I heard from one Dr. Pena, that the queen 
 mother, who was given to curious arts, caused the 
 king her husband's nativity to be calculated under 
 a false name ; and the astrologer gave a judgment, 
 that he should be killed in a duel ; at which the 
 queen laughed, thinking her husband to be above 
 challenges and duels : but he was slain upon a course 
 at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery 
 going in at his beaver. The trivial prophecy which 
 I heard when I was a child, and queen Elizabeth 
 was in the flower of her years, was, 
 
 " When hempe is sponne 
 England's done :" 
 
134 ESSAYS. 
 
 whereby it was generally conceived, that after the 
 princes had reigned which had the principal letters 
 of that word hempe (which were Henry, Edward, 
 Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth), England should come 
 to utter confusion ; which, thanks be to God, is ve- 
 rified only in the change of the name ; for that the 
 king's style is now no more of England but of Bri- 
 tain. There was also another prophecy before the 
 year of eighty-eight, which I do not well under- 
 stand. 
 
 " There shall be seen upon a day, 
 Between the Baugh and the May, 
 The black fleet of Norway. 
 When that that is come and gone, 
 England build houses of lime and stone, 
 For after wars shall you have none." 
 
 It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spa- 
 nish fleet that came in eighty-eight : for that the 
 king of Spain's surname, as they say, is Norway. 
 The prediction of Regiomontanus, 
 
 " Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus," 
 was thought likewise accomplished in the sending 
 of that great fleet, being the greatest in strength, 
 though not in number of all that ever swam upon 
 the sea. As for Cleon's dream, I think it was a 
 jest ; it was, that he was devoured of a long dra- 
 gon ; and it was expounded of a maker of sausages, 
 that troubled him exceedingly. There are num- 
 bers of the like kind; especially if you include 
 dreams, and predictions of astrology ; but I have 
 
OF PROPHECIES. 135 
 
 set down these few only of certain credit, for ex- 
 ample. My judgment is, that they ought all to be 
 despised, and ought to serve but for winter talk by 
 the fireside : though when I say despised, 1 mean 
 it as for belief; for otherwise, the spreading or 
 publishing of them is in no sort to be despised, for 
 they have done much mischief; and I see many 
 severe laws made to suppress them. That that 
 hath given them grace, and some credit, consisteth 
 in three things. First, that men mark when they 
 hit, and never mark when they miss ; as they do, 
 generally, also of dreams. The second 'is, that 
 probable conjectures, or obscure traditions, many 
 times turn themselves into prophecies ; while the 
 nature of man, which coveteth divination, thinks it 
 no peril to foretell that which indeed they do but 
 collect : as that of Seneca's verse ; for so much was 
 then subject to demonstration, that the globe of the 
 earth had great parts beyond the Atlantic, which 
 might be probably conceived not to be all sea : and 
 adding thereto the tradition in Plato's Timaeus, and 
 his Atlanticus, it might encourage one to turn it 
 to a prediction. The third and last (which is the 
 great one), is, that almost all of them, being infinite 
 in number, have been impostures, and by idle and 
 crafty brains, merely contrived and feigned, after 
 the event past. 
 
1 36 ESSAYS. 
 
 XXXVI. OF AMBITION. 
 
 AMBITION is like choler, which is a humour 
 that maketh men active, earnest, full of ala- 
 crity, and stirring, if it be not stopped : but if it 
 be stopped, and cannot have its way, it becometh 
 adust, and thereby malign and venomous : so am- 
 bitious men, if they find the way open for their 
 rising, and still get forward, they are rather busy 
 than dangerous ; but if they be checked in their 
 desires, they become secretly discontent, and look 
 upon men and matters with an evil eye, and are 
 best pleased when things go backward ; which is the 
 worst property in a servant of a prince or state : 
 therefore it is good for princes, if they use ambiti- 
 ous men, to handle it so, as they be still progressive, 
 and not retrograde, which, because it cannot be 
 without inconvenience, it is good not to use such 
 natures at all ; for if they rise not with their ser- 
 vice, they will take order to make their service fall 
 with them. But since we have said, it were good 
 not to use men of ambitious natures, except it be 
 upon necessity, it is fit we speak in what cases they 
 are of necessity. Good commanders in the wars 
 must be taken, be they never so ambitious ; for the 
 use of their service dispenseth with the rest ; and 
 to take a soldier without ambition, is to pull off his 
 
OF AMBITION. 137 
 
 spurs. There is also great use of ambitious men 
 in being screens to princes in matters of danger and 
 envy ; for no man will take thjat part except he be 
 like a seeled dove, that mounts and mounts, because 
 he cannot see about him. There is use also of am- 
 bitious men in pulling" down the greatness of any- 
 subject that overtops ; as Tiberius used Macro in 
 the pulling down of Sejanus. Since, therefore, 
 they must be used in such cases, there resteth to 
 speak how they are to be bridled, that they may be 
 less dangerous : there is less danger of them if they 
 be of mean birth, than if they be noble; and if they 
 be rather harsh of nature, than gracious and popu- 
 lar : and if they be rather new raised, than grown 
 cunning and fortified in their greatness. It is 
 counted by some a weakness in princes to have 
 favourites ; but it is, of all others, the best remedy 
 against ambitious great ones ; for when the way of 
 pleasuring and displeasuring lieth by the favourite, 
 it is impossible any other should be over great. 
 Another means to curb them is, to balance them by 
 others as proud as they : but then there must be 
 some middle counsellors, to keep things steady ; for 
 without that ballast the ship will roll too much. At 
 the least, a prince may animate and inure some 
 meaner persons to be, as it were, scourges to ambi- 
 tious men. As for the having of them obnoxious 
 to ruin, if they be of fearful natures, it may do well ; 
 but if they be stout and daring, it may precipitate 
 their designs, and prove dangerous. As for the 
 
138 ESSAYS. 
 
 pulling of them down, if the affairs require it, and 
 that it may not be done with safety suddenly, the 
 only way is, the interchange continually of favours 
 and disgraces, whereby they may not know what 
 to expect, and be, as it were, in a wood. Of am- 
 bitions, it is less harmful the ambition to prevail in 
 great things, than that other to appear in every 
 thing; for that breeds confusion, and mars business : 
 but yet, it is less danger to have an ambitious man 
 stirring in business, than great in dependences. He 
 that seeketh to be eminent amongst able men, hath a 
 great task ; but that is ever good for the public : but 
 he that plots to be the only figure amongst ciphers, 
 is the decay of a whole age. Honour hath three 
 things in it ; the vantage ground to do good ; the 
 approach to kings and principal persons ; and the 
 raising of a man's own fortunes. He that hath the 
 best of these intentions, when he aspire th, is an ho- 
 nest man : and that prince that can discern of these 
 intentions in another that aspire th, is a wise prince. 
 Generally, let princes and states choose such mi- 
 nisters as are more sensible of duty than of rising, 
 and such as love business rather upon conscience 
 than upon bravery; and let them discern a busy 
 nature, from a willing mind. 
 
139 
 
 XXXVII. OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS. 
 
 THESE things are but toys to come amongst 
 such serious observations; but yet, since 
 princes will have such things, it is better they 
 should be graced with elegancy, than daubed with 
 cost. Dancing to song*, is a thing* of great state 
 and pleasure. I understand it that the song be 
 in quire, placed aloft, and accompanied with some 
 broken music ; and the ditty fitted to the device. 
 Acting* in song*, especially in dialogues, hath an 
 extreme good grace ; I say acting, not dancing 
 (for that is a mean and vulgar thing) ; and the 
 voices of the dialogue would be strong and manly, 
 (a base and a tenor, no treble,) and the ditty 
 high and tragical, not nice or dainty. Several 
 quires placed one over against another, and taking 
 the voice by catches anthem-wise, give great 
 pleasure. Turning dances into figure is a childish 
 curiosity ; and generally let it be noted, that those 
 things which I here set down are such as do natu- 
 rally take the sense, and not respect petty wonder- 
 ments. It is true, the alterations of scenes, so it 
 be quietly and without noise, are things of great 
 beauty and pleasure ; for they feed and relieve the 
 eye before it be full of the same object. Let the 
 scenes abound with light, especially coloured and 
 
140 ESSAYS. 
 
 varied ; and let the masquers, or any other that 
 are to come down from the scene, have some mo- 
 tions upon the scene itself before their coming 
 down ; for it draws the eye strangely, and makes 
 it with great pleasure to desire to see that, it can- 
 not perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud and 
 cheerful, and not chirpings or pulings : let the 
 music likewise be sharp and loud, and well placed. 
 The colours that shew best by candle-light, are 
 white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water green ; 
 and ouches, or spangs, as they are of no great 
 cost, so they are of most glory. As for rich em- 
 broidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the suits 
 of the masquers be graceful, and such as become 
 the person when the vizards are off; not after 
 examples of known attires ; Turks, soldiers, ma- 
 riners, and the like. Let anti-masques not be 
 long; they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, 
 baboons, wild men, antics, beasts, spirits, witches, 
 Ethiopes, pigmies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, Cu- 
 pids, statues moving, and the like. As for angels, 
 it is not comical enough to put them in anti- 
 masques : and any thing that is hideous, as devils, 
 giants, is, on the other side, as unfit ; but chiefly, 
 let the music of them be recreative, and with 
 some strange changes. Some sweet odours sud- 
 denly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, 
 in such a company as there is steam and heat, 
 things of great pleasure and refreshment. Double 
 masques, one of men, another of ladies, addeth 
 
OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS. 141 
 
 state and variety; but all is nothing, except the 
 room be kept clean and neat. 
 
 For justs, and tourneys, and barriers, the glories 
 of them are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the 
 challengers make their entry ; especially if they 
 be drawn with strange beasts : as lions, bears, 
 camels, and the like; or in the devices of their 
 entrance, or in bravery of their liveries, or in the 
 goodly furniture of their horses and armour. But 
 enough of these toys. 
 
 XXXVIII. OF NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 NATURE is often hidden, sometimes over- 
 come, seldom extinguished. Force maketh 
 nature more violent in the return; doctrine and 
 discourse maketh nature less importune ; but cus- 
 tom, only, doth alter and subdue nature. He that 
 seeketh victory over his nature, let him not set 
 himself too great nor too small tasks ; for the first 
 will make him dejected by often failing, and the 
 second will make him a small proceeder, though 
 by often prevailing : and at the first, let him prac- 
 tise with helps, as swimmers do with bladders, or 
 rushes ; but, after a time, let him practise with 
 disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes ; 
 for it breeds great perfection, if the practice be 
 harder than the use. Where nature is mighty, 
 
J 42 ESSA13, 
 
 and therefore the victory hard, the degrees had 
 need be, first to stay and arrest nature in time ; 
 like to him that would say over the four and twenty 
 letters when he was angry; then to go less in 
 quantity: as if one should, in forbearing wine, 
 come from drinking healths to a draught at a 
 meal ; and lastly, to discontinue altogether : but 
 if a man have the fortitude and resolution to en- 
 franchise himself at once that is the best : 
 
 " Optimus ille animi vindex laedentia pectus 
 Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel." 
 
 Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature 
 as a wand to a contrary extreme, whereby to set 
 it right ; understanding it where the contrary ex- 
 treme is no vice. Let not a man force a habit 
 upon himself with a perpetual continuance, but 
 with some intermission : for both the pause rein- 
 forceth the new onset ; and, if a man that is not 
 perfect be ever in practice he shall as well practise 
 his errors as his abilities, and induce one habit of 
 both ; and there is no means to help this but by 
 seasonable intermissions ; but let not a man trust 
 his victory over his nature too far ; for nature will 
 lie buried a great time, and yet revive upon the 
 occasion, or temptation ; like as it was with iEsop's 
 damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat 
 very demurely at the board's end till a mouse ran 
 before her : therefore, let a man either avoid the 
 occasion altogether, or put himself often to it, 
 
OF NATURE IN MEN. 143 
 
 that be may be little moved with it. A man's 
 nature is best perceived in privateness ; for there 
 is no affectation in passion ; for that putteth a man 
 out of his precepts, and in a new case or experi- 
 ment, for there custom leaveth him. They are 
 happy men whose natures sort with their voca- 
 tions ; otherwise they may say, " multum incola 
 fuit anima mea," when they converse in those 
 things they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever 
 a man commandeth upon himself, let him set hours 
 for it; but whatsoever is agreeable to his nature, 
 let him take no care for any set times ; for his 
 thoughts will fly to it of themselves, so as the 
 spaces of other business or studies will suffice. A 
 man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds ; there- 
 fore let him seasonably water the one, and destroy 
 the other. 
 
 XXXIX. OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 
 
 MEN'S thoughts are much according to their 
 inclination ; their discourse and speeches 
 according to their learning and infused opinions ; 
 but their deeds are after as they have been accus- 
 tomed : and, therefore, as Machiavel well noteth, 
 (though in an evil-favoured instance,) there is no 
 trusting to the force of nature, nor to the bravery 
 of words, except it be corroborate by custom. His 
 instance is, that for the achieving of a desperate 
 
144 ESfAYS. 
 
 conspiracy, a man should not rest upon the fierce- 
 ness of any man's n? „ure, or his resolute under- 
 takings; but take sjch a one as hath had his 
 hands formerly in b T ood ; but Machiavel knew not 
 of a friar Clement, vior a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, 
 nor a Baltazar Gerard ; yet his rule holdeth still, 
 that nature, nor the engagement of words, are not 
 so forcible as custom. Only superstition is now 
 so well advanced, that men of the first blood are 
 as firm as butchers by occupation ; and votary re- 
 solution is made equipollent to custom even in 
 matter of blood. In other things, the predomi- 
 nancy of custom is every where visible, insomuch 
 as a man would wonder to hear men profess, pro- 
 test, engage, give great words, and then do just 
 as they have done before, as if they were dead 
 images and engines, moved only by the wheels of 
 custom. We see also the reign or tyranny of 
 custom, what it is. The Indians, (I mean the 
 sect of their wise men,) lay themselves quietly 
 upon a stack of wood, and so sacrifice themselves 
 by fire : nay, the wives strive to be burned with 
 the corpse of their husbands. The lads of Sparta, 
 of ancient time, were wont to be scourged upon 
 the altar of Diana, without so much as squeaking. 
 I remember, in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's 
 time of England, an Irish rebel condemned, put 
 up a petition to the deputy that he might be 
 hanged in a wyth, and not in a halter, because it 
 had been so used with former rebels. There be 
 
OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 145 
 
 monks in Russia for penance, that will sit a whole 
 night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged 
 with hard ice. Many examples may be put of the 
 force of custom, both upon mind and body : there- 
 fore i since custom is the principal magistrate of 
 man's life, let men by all means endeavour to 
 obtain good customs. Certainly, custom is most 
 perfect when it beginneth in young years : this 
 we call education, which is, in effect, but an early 
 custom. So we see, in languages the tongue is 
 more pliant to all expressions and sounds, the 
 joints are more supple to all feats of activity and 
 motions in youth, than afterwards ; for it is true, 
 that late learners cannot so well take the ply, 
 except it be in some minds that have not suffered 
 themselves to fix, but have kept themselves open 
 and prepared to receive continual amendment, 
 which is exceeding rare : but if the force of cus- 
 tom, simple and separate, be great, the force of 
 custom, copulate and conjoined and collegiate, is 
 far greater ; for their example teacheth, company 
 comforteth, emulation quickeneth, glory raise th ; 
 so as in such places the force of custom is in his 
 exaltation. Certainly, the great multiplication of 
 virtues upon human nature resteth upon societies 
 well ordained and disciplined ; for commonwealths 
 and good governments do nourish virtue grown, 
 but do not much mend the seeds ; but the misery 
 is, that the most effectual means are now applied 
 to the ends least to be desired. 
 L 
 
146 ESSAYS. 
 
 XL. OF FORTUNE. 
 
 IT cannot be denied but outward accidents con- 
 duce much to fortune ; favour, opportunity, 
 death of others, occasion fitting virtue : but chiefly, 
 the mould of a man's fortune is in his own hands : 
 " Faber quisque fortunae suas," saith the poet; 
 and the most frequent of external causes is, that 
 the folly of one man is the fortune of another ; for 
 no man prospers so suddenly as by others' errors. 
 " Serpens nisi serpentem comederit non fit draco." 
 Overt and apparent virtues bring forth praise ; but 
 there be secret and hidden virtues that bring forth 
 fortune ; certain deliveries of a man's self, which 
 have no name. The Spanish name, " disembol- 
 tura," partly expresseth them, when there be not 
 stonds nor restiveness in a man's nature, but that 
 the wheels of his mind keep way with the wheels 
 of his fortune ; for so Livy (after he had described 
 Cato Major in these words, " In illo viro, tantum 
 robur corporis et animi fuit, ut quocunque loco 
 natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur,") 
 falleth upon that that he had " versatile inge- 
 nium :" therefore, if a man look sharply and atten- 
 tively, he shall see Fortune ; for though she be 
 blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of fortune 
 is like the milky way in the sky ; which is a 
 
OF FORTUNE. 147 
 
 meeting, or knot, of a number of small stars, not 
 seen asunder, but giving light together: so are 
 there a number of little and scarce discerned vir- 
 tues, or rather faculties and customs, that make 
 men fortunate : the Italians note some of them, 
 such as a man would little think. When they 
 speak of one that cannot do amiss, they will throw 
 in into his other conditions, that he hath " Poco 
 di matto ;" and, certainly, there be not two more 
 fortunate properties, than to have a little of the 
 fool, and not too much of the honest : therefore 
 extreme lovers of their country, or masters, were 
 never fortunate : neither can they be ; for when 
 a man placeth his thoughts without himself, he 
 goeth not his own way. A hasty fortune maketh 
 an enterpriser and remover ; (the French hath it 
 better, " entreprenant," or "remuant;") but the 
 exercised fortune maketh the able man. Fortune 
 is to be honoured and respected, and it be but for 
 her daughters, Confidence and Reputation; for 
 those two Felicity breedeth ; the first within a 
 man's self, the latter in others towards him. All 
 wise men, to decline the envy of their own vir- 
 tues, use to ascribe them to Providence and For- 
 tune ; for so they may the better assume them : 
 and, besides, it is greatness in a man to be the 
 care of the higher powers. So Caesar said to the 
 pilot in the tempest, M Caesarem portas, et fortunam 
 ejus." So Sylla chose the name of " Felix," and 
 not of " Magnus :" and it hath been noted, that 
 
148 ESSAYS. 
 
 those who ascribe openly too much to their own 
 wisdom and policy, end infortunate. It is written, 
 that Timotheus, the Athenian, after he had, in the 
 account he gave to the state of his government, 
 often interlaced this speech, "and in this Fortune 
 had no part," never prospered in anything he un- 
 dertook afterwards. Certainly there be, whose for- 
 tunes are like Homer's verses, that have a slide and 
 easiness more than the verses of other poets ; as 
 Plutarch saith of Timoleon's fortune in respect of 
 that of Agesilaus or Epaminondas : and that this 
 should be, no doubt it is much in a man's self. 
 
 XLI. OF USURY. 
 
 MANY have made witty invectives against 
 usury. They say that it is pity the devil 
 should have God's part, which is the tithe ; that 
 the usurer is the greatest sabbath-breaker, because 
 his plough goeth every Sunday ; that the usurer is 
 the drone that Virgil speaketh of; 
 
 " Ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent;" 
 
 that the usurer breaketh the first law that was made 
 for mankind after the fall, which was, " in sudore 
 vultus tui comedes panem tuum;" not, "in sudore 
 vultus alieni;" that usurers should have orange 
 tawny bonnets, because they do judaize ; that it is 
 
OF USURY. 149 
 
 against nature for money to beget money, and the 
 like. I say this only, that usury is a "concessum 
 propter duritiem cordis: " for since there must be 
 borrowing and lending, and men are so hard of 
 heart as they will not lend freely, usury must be 
 permitted. Some others have made suspicious and 
 cunning propositions of banks, discovery of men's 
 estates, and other inventions ; but few have spoken 
 of usury usefully. It is good to set before us the 
 incommodities and commodities of usury, that the 
 good may be either weighed out, or culled out ; and 
 warily to provide, that, while we make forth to that 
 which is better, we meet not with that which is 
 worse. 
 
 The discommodities of usury are, first, that it 
 makes fewer merchants ; for were it not for this 
 lazy trade of usury, money would not lie still, but 
 would in great part be employed upon merchandiz- 
 ing, w T hich is the " vena porta" of wealth in a state : 
 the second, that it makes poor merchants ; for as 
 a farmer cannot husband his ground so well if he 
 sit at a great rent, so the merchant cannot drive his 
 trade so well, if he sit at great usury: the third is 
 incident to the other two ; and that is, the decay 
 of customs of kings, or states, which ebb or flow 
 with merchandizing : the fourth, that it bringeth 
 the treasure of a realm or state into a few hands ; 
 for the usurer being at certainties, and others at 
 uncertainties, at the end of the game most of the 
 money will be in the box ; and ever a state flourish- 
 
150 ESSAYS. 
 
 eth when wealth is more equally spread: the fifth, 
 that it beats down the price of land ; for the em- 
 ployment of money is chiefly either merchandizing, 
 or purchasing, and usury waylays both: the .sixth, 
 that it doth dull and damp all industries, improve- 
 ments, and new inventions, wherein money would 
 be stirring, if it were not for this slug : the last, 
 that it is the canker and ruin of many men's estates, 
 which in process of time breeds a public poverty. 
 On the other side the commodities of usury are, 
 first, that howsoever usury in some respect hinder- 
 eth merchandizing, yet in some other it advanceth 
 it ; for it is certain that the greatest part of trade 
 is driven by young merchants upon borrowing at 
 interest; so as if the usurer either call in, or keep 
 back his money, there will ensue presently a great 
 stand of trade: the second is, that, were it not for 
 this easy borrowing upon interest, men's necessities 
 would draw upon them a most sudden undoing, in 
 that they would be forced to sell their means, (be 
 it lands or goods), far under foot, and so, whereas 
 usury doth but gnaw upon them, bad markets would 
 swallow them quite up. As for mortgaging or pawn- 
 ing, it will little mend the matter: for either men 
 will not take pawns without use, or if they do, they 
 will look precisely for the forfeiture. I remember 
 a cruel monied man in the country, that would say, 
 " The devil take this usury, it keeps us from for- 
 feitures of mortgages and bonds." The third and 
 last is, that it is a vanity to conceive that there 
 
OF USURY. 151 
 
 would be ordinary borrowing without profit; and 
 it is impossible to conceive the number of inconve- 
 niences that will ensue, if borrowing* be cramped: 
 therefore to speak of the abolishing of usury is idle ; 
 all states have ever had it in one kind or. rate or 
 other: so as that opinion must be sent to Utopia. 
 
 To speak now of the reformation and reglement 
 of usury, how the discommodities of it may be best 
 avoided, and the commodities retained. It appears, 
 by the balance of commodities and discommodities 
 of usury, two things are to be reconciled; the one 
 that the tooth of usury be grinded, that it bite not 
 too much ; the other that there be left open a means 
 to invite monied men to lend to the merchants, for 
 the continuing and quickening of trade. This can- 
 not be done, except you introduce two several sorts 
 of usury, a less and a greater ; for if you reduce 
 usury to one, low rate, it will ease the common bor- 
 rower, but the merchant will be to seek for money : 
 and it is to be noted, that the trade of merchandize 
 being the most lucrative, may bear usury at a good 
 rate : other contracts not so. 
 
 To serve both intentions, the way would be 
 briefly thus; that there be two rates of usury; the 
 one free and general for all ; the other under license 
 only to certain persons, and in certain places of 
 merchandizing. First, therefore, let usury in ge- 
 neral be reduced to five in the hundred, and let that 
 rate be proclaimed to be free and current ; and let 
 the state shut itself out to take any penalty for the 
 
152 ESSAYS. 
 
 same ; this will preserve borrowing from any gene- I 
 ral stop or dryness ; this will ease infinite borrowers I 
 in the country ; this will, in good part, raise the } 
 price of land, because land purchased at sixteen 
 years' purchase will yield six in the hundred, and 
 somewhat more, whereas this rate of interest yields 
 but five : this by like reason will encourage and 
 edge industrious and profitable improvements, be- 
 cause many will rather venture in that kind, than 
 take five in the hundred, especially having been 
 used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be cer- 
 tain persons licensed to lend to known merchants 
 upon usury, at a higher rate, and let it be with the 
 cautions following : let the rate be, even with the 
 merchant himself, somewhat more easy than that 
 he used formerly to pay; for by that means all 
 borrowers shall have some ease by this reformation, 
 be he merchant, or whosoever; let it be no bank, 
 or common stock, but every man be master of his 
 own money ; not that I altogether dislike banks, 
 but they will hardly be brooked, in regard of cer- 
 tain suspicions. Let the state be answered, some 
 small matter for the license, and the rest left to the 
 lender ; for if the abatement be but small, it will 
 no whit discourage the lender; for he, for example, 
 that took before, ten or nine in the hundred, will 
 sooner descend to eight in the hundred, than give 
 over his trade of usury, and go from certain gains 
 to gains of hazard. Let these licensed lenders be 
 in number indefinite, bat restrained to certain prin- 
 
OF USURY. 153 
 
 cipal cities and towns of merchandizing ; for then 
 they will be hardly able to colour other men's mo- 
 nies in the country : so as the license of nine will 
 not suck away the current rate of five ; for no man 
 will lend his monies far off, nor put them into un- 
 known hands. 
 
 If it be objected that this doth in a sort authorize 
 usury, which before was in some places but per- 
 missive ; the answer is, that it is better to mitigate 
 usury by declaration, than to suffer it to rage by 
 connivance. 
 
 XLII. OF YOUTH AND AGE, 
 
 A MAN that is young in years may be old in 
 hours, if he have lost no time; but that hap- 
 peneth rarely. Generally, youth is like the first 
 cogitations, not so wise as the second : for there 
 is a youth in thoughts, as well as in ages ; and yet 
 the invention of young men is more lively than 
 that of old, and imaginations stream into their minds 
 better, and, as it were, more divinely. Natures that 
 have much heat, and great and violent desires and 
 perturbations, are not ripe for action till they have 
 passed the meridian of their years : as it was with 
 Julius Cassar and Septimius Severus ; of the latter 
 of whom it is said, " Juventutem egit, erroribus, 
 imo furoribus plenam ; " and yet he was the ablest 
 
154 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 emperor, almost, of all the list : but reposed na- 
 tures may do well in youth, as it is seen in Augustus 
 Caesar, Cosmus, duke of Florence, Gaston de Foix, 
 and others. On the other side, heat and vivacity 
 in age is an excellent composition for business. 
 Young men are fitter to invent than to judge ; fitter 
 for execution than for counsel ; and fitter for new 
 projects than for settled business ; for the experi- 
 ence of age, in things that fall within the compass 
 of it, directeth them : but in new things abuseth 
 them. The errors of young men are the ruin of 
 business ; but the errors of aged men amount but 
 to this, that more might have been done, or sooner. 
 Young men, in the conduct and manage of actions, 
 embrace more than they can hold ; stir more than 
 they can quiet ; fly to the end without considera- 
 tion of the means and degrees ; pursue some few 
 principles which they have chanced upon absurdly ; 
 care not to innovate, which draws unknown incon- 
 veniences ; use extreme remedies at first; and that, 
 which doubleth all errors, will not acknowledge or 
 retract them, like an unready horse, that will neither 
 stop nor turn. Men of age object too much, con- 
 sult too long, adventure too little, repent too soon, 
 and seldom drive business home to the full period, 
 but content themselves with a mediocrity of suc- 
 cess. Certainly it is good to compound employ- 
 ments of both ; for that will be good for the present^ 
 because the virtues of either age may correct the 
 defects of both ; and good for succession, that young 
 
OF YOUTH AND AGE. 155 
 
 men may be learners, while men in age are actors; 
 and, lastly, good for external accidents, because 
 authority followeth old men, and favour and popu- 
 larity youth : but, for the moral part, perhaps, youth 
 will have the pre-eminence, as age hath for the po- 
 litic. A certain rabbin upon the text, " Your young 
 men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream 
 dreams, " inferreth that young men are admitted 
 nearer to God than old, because vision is a clearer 
 revelation than a dream : and, certainly, the more 
 a man drinketh of the world, the more it intoxi- 
 cateth : and age doth profit rather in the powers of 
 understanding, than in the virtues of the will and 
 affections. There be some have an over-early ripe- 
 ness in their years, which fadeth betimes : these are, 
 first, such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof is 
 soon turned : such as was Hermogenes the rhe- 
 torician, whose books are exceeding subtle, who 
 afterwards waxed stupid : a second sort is of those 
 that have some natural dispositions, which have 
 better grace in youth than in age ; such as is a 
 fluent and luxuriant speech ; which becomes youth 
 well, but not age: so Tully saith of Hortensius, 
 r Idem manebat, neque idem decebat;" the third 
 is of such as take too high a strain at the first, and 
 are magnanimous more than tract of years can up- 
 hold ; as with Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy saith 
 in effect, " Ultima primis cedebant." 
 
156 ESSAYS. 
 
 XLIII. OF BEAUTY. 
 
 VIRTUE is like a rich stone, best plain set ; 
 and surely virtue is best in a body that is 
 comely, though not of delicate features ; and that 
 hath rather dignity of presence, than beauty of 
 aspect; neither is it almost seen, that very beau- 
 tiful persons are otherwise of great virtue ; as if 
 nature were rather busy not to err, than in labour 
 to produce excellency ; and therefore they prove 
 accomplished, but not of great spirit ; and study 
 rather behaviour, than virtue. But this holds not 
 always : for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, 
 Philip le Belle of France, Edward the Fourth of 
 England, Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael, the sophy 
 of Persia, were all high and great spirits, and yet 
 the most beautiful men of their times. In beauty, 
 that of favour, is more than that of colour ; and 
 that of decent and gracious motion, more than that 
 of favour. That is the best part of beauty, which 
 a picture cannot express; no, nor the first sight of 
 the life. There is no excellent beauty that hath 
 not some strangeness in the proportion. A man 
 cannot tell whether Apelles or Albert Durer were 
 the more trifler; whereof the one would make a 
 personage by geometrical proportions : the other, 
 by taking the best parts out of divers faces to make 
 
OF BEAUTY. 157 
 
 one excellent. Such personages, I think, would 
 please nobody but the painter that made them : not 
 but I think a painter may make a better face than 
 ever was ; but he must do it by a kind of felicity, 
 (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in mu- 
 sic) and not by rule. A man shall see faces, that, 
 if you examine them part by part, you shall find 
 never a good ; and yet altogether do well. If it 
 be true that the principal part of beauty is in de- 
 cent motion, certainly it is no marvel, though per- 
 sons in years seem many times more amiable ; 
 " pulchrorum autumnus pulcher ;" for no youth can 
 be comely but by pardon, and considering the youth 
 as to make up the comeliness. Beauty is as sum- 
 mer fruits, which are easy to corrupt and cannot 
 last ; and, for the most part, it makes a dissolute 
 youth, and an age a little out of countenance ; but 
 yet certainly again, if it light well, it maketh vir- 
 tues shine, and vices blush. 
 
 XLIV. OF DEFORMITY. 
 
 DEFORMED persons are commonly even with 
 nature ; for as nature hath done ill by them, 
 so do they by nature, being for the most part, (as 
 the Scripture saith) " void of natural affection;" and 
 so they have their revenge of nature. Certainly 
 there is a consent between the body and the mind, 
 
158 ESSAYS. 
 
 and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth 
 in the other: " Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in 
 altero :" but because there is in man an election, 
 touching the frame of his mind, and a necessity in 
 the frame of his body, the stars of natural inclina- 
 tion, are sometimes obscured by the sun of discipline 
 and virtue ; therefore it is good to consider of de- 
 formity, not as a sign which is more deceivable, 
 but as a cause which seldom faileth of the effect. 
 Whosoever hath any thing fixed in his person that 
 doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in 
 himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn ; 
 therefore, all deformed persons are extreme bold ; 
 first, as in their own defence, as being exposed to 
 scorn, but in process of time by a general habit. 
 Also it stirreth in them industry, and especially 
 of this kind, to watch and observe the weakness 
 of others, that they may have somewhat to repay. 
 Again, in their superiors, it quencheth jealousy 
 towards them, as persons that they think they may 
 at pleasure despise : and it layeth their competitors 
 and emulators asleep, as never believing they should 
 be in possibility of advancement till they see them in 
 possession : so that upon the matter, in a great wit, 
 deformity is an advantage to rising. Kings, in an- 
 cient times, (and at this present in some countries) 
 were wont to put great trust in eunuchs, because 
 they that are envious towards all are more obnox- 
 ious and officious towards one ; but yet their trust 
 towards them hath rather been as to good spials, 
 
OF DEFORMITY. 159 
 
 and good whisperers, than good magistrates and 
 officers : and much like is the reason of deformed 
 persons. Still the ground is, they will, if they be 
 of spirit, seek to free themselves from scorn ; 
 which must be either by virtue or malice ; and, 
 therefore, let it not be marvelled, if sometimes they 
 prove excellent persons ; as was Agesilaus, Zanger 
 the son of Solyman, iEsop, Gasca, president of 
 Peru ; and Socrates may go likewise amongst 
 them, with others. 
 
 XLV. OF BUILDING. 
 
 HOUSES are built to live in, and not to look 
 on ; therefore let use be preferred before 
 uniformity, except where both may be had. Leave 
 the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty only, to 
 the enchanted palaces of the poets, who build them 
 with small cost. He that builds a fair house upon 
 an ill seat, committeth himself to prison ; neither 
 do I reckon it an ill seat only where the air is un- 
 wholesome, but likewise where the air is unequal ; 
 as you shall see many fine seats set upon a knap of 
 ground, environed with higher hills round about it, 
 whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and the 
 wind gathereth as in troughs ; so as you shall have, 
 and that suddenly, as great diversity of heat and 
 cold as if you dwelt in several places. Neither is 
 
160 ESSAYS. 
 
 it ill air only that maketh an ill seat ; but ill ways, 
 ill markets ; and, if you will consult with Momus, 
 ill neighbours. I speak not of many more ; want 
 of water, want of wood, shade, and shelter, want 
 of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several 
 natures; want of prospect, want of level grounds, 
 want of places at some near distance for sports of 
 hunting, hawking, and races ; too near the sea, 
 too remote; having the commodity of navigable 
 rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing ; 
 too far off from great cities, which may hinder 
 business; or too near them, which lurcheth all 
 provisions, and maketh every thing dear; where 
 a man hath a great living laid together ; and where 
 he is scanted ; all which, as it is impossible per- 
 haps to find together, so it is good to know them, 
 and think of them, that a man may take as many 
 as he can ; and, if he have several dwellings, that 
 he sort them so, that what he wanteth in the one 
 he may find in the other. Lucullus answered 
 Pompey well, who, when he saw his stately gal- 
 leries and rooms so large and lightsome, in one of 
 his houses, said, " Surely an excellent place for 
 summer, but how do you in winter V 9 Lucullus 
 answered, " Why do you not think me as wise as 
 some fowls are, that ever change their abode to- 
 wards the winter VI 
 
 To pass from the seat to the house itself, we 
 will do as Cicero doth in the orator's art, who 
 writes books de Oratore, and a book he entitles 
 
OF BUILDING. 151 
 
 Orator ; whereof the former delivers the precepts 
 of the art, and the latter the perfection. We will 
 therefore describe a princely palace, making a 
 brief model thereof; for it is strange to see, now 
 in Europe, such huge buildings as the Vatican 
 and Escurial, and some others be, and yet scarce 
 a very fair room in them. 
 
 First, therefore, I say, you cannot have a per- 
 fect palace, except you have two several sides ; a 
 side for the banquet, as is spoken of in the book 
 of Esther, and a side for the household ; the one 
 for feasts and triumphs, and the other for dwelling, 
 I understand both these sides to be not only re- 
 turns, but parts of the front; and to be uniform 
 without, though severally partitioned within ; and 
 to be on both sides of a great and stately tower in 
 the midst of the front, that, as it were, joineth 
 them together on either hand. I would have, on 
 the side of the banquet in front, one only goodly 
 room above stairs, of some forty foot high; and 
 under it a room for a dressing or preparing place, 
 at times of triumphs. On the other side, which 
 is the household side, I wish it divided at the first 
 into a hall and a chapel, (with a partition between,) 
 both of good state and bigness ; and those not to 
 go all the length, but to have at the further end a 
 winter and a summer parlour, both fair ; and under 
 these rooms a fair and large cellar sunk under 
 ground; and likewise some privy kitchens, with 
 butteries and pantries, and the like. As for the 
 
 M 
 
162 ESSAYS. 
 
 tower, I would have it two stories, of eighteen 
 foot high a piece above the two wings ; and a 
 goodly leads upon the top, railed with statues in- 
 terposed; and the same tower to be divided into 
 rooms, as shall be thought fit. The stairs like- 
 wise to the upper rooms, let them be upon a fair 
 open newel, and finely railed in with images of 
 wood cast into a brass colour; and a very fair 
 landing-place at the top. But this to be, if you 
 do not point any of the lower rooms for a dining 
 place of servants ; for, otherwise, you shall have 
 the servants' dinner after your own : for the steam 
 of it will come up as in a tunnel ; and so much 
 for the front : only I understand the height of the 
 first stairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height 
 of the lower room. 
 
 Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, 
 but three sides of it of a far lower building than 
 the front ; and in all the four corners of that court 
 fair stair-cases, cast into turrets on the outside, 
 and not within the row of buildings themselves : 
 but those towers are not to be of the height of 
 the front, but rather proportionable to the lower 
 building. Let the court not be paved, for that 
 striketh up a great heat in summer, and much 
 cold in winter : but only some side alleys with a 
 cross, and the quarters to graze, being kept shorn, 
 but not too near shorn. The row of return on the 
 banquet side, let it be all stately galleries : in 
 which galleries let there be three or five fine 
 
OF BUILDING. 163 
 
 cupolas in the length of it, placed at equal dis- 
 tance, and fine coloured windows of several works : 
 on the household side, chambers of presence and 
 ordinary entertainments, with some bed-chambers : 
 and let all three sides be a double house, without 
 thorough lights on the sides, that you may have 
 rooms from the sun, both for forenoon and after- 
 noon. Cast it also, that you may have rooms 
 both for summer and winter; shady for summer, 
 and warm for winter. You shall have sometimes 
 fair houses so full of glass, that one cannot tell 
 where to become to be out of the sun or cold. For 
 inbowed windows, I hold them of good use ; (in 
 cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of the 
 uniformity towards the street;) for they be pretty 
 retiring places for conference ; and besides, they 
 keep both the wind and sun off; for that which 
 would strike almost thorough the room doth scarce 
 pass the window : but let them be but few, four 
 in the court, on the sides only. 
 
 Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, 
 of the same square and height, which is to be 
 environed with the garden on all sides ; and in 
 the inside, cloistered on all sides upon decent and 
 beautiful arches, as high as the first story : on the 
 under story, towards the garden, let it be turned 
 to a grotto, or place of shade, or estivation; and 
 only have opening and windows towards the gar- 
 den, and be level upon the floor, no whit sunken 
 under ground, to avoid all dampishness : and let 
 
1 64 ESSAYS. 
 
 there be a fountain, or some fair work of statues 
 in the midst of this court, and to be paved as the 
 other court was. These buildings to be for privy 
 lodgings on both sides, and the end for. privy gal- 
 leries ; whereof you must foresee that one of them 
 be for an infirmary, if the prince or any special 
 person should be sick, with chambers, bed-chamber, 
 " antecamera," and " recamera," joining to it; 
 this upon the second story. Upon the ground 
 story, a fair gallery, open, upon pillars ; and upon 
 the third story, likewise an open gallery upon pil- 
 lars, to take the prospect and freshness of the 
 garden. At both corners of the further side, by 
 way of return, let there be two delicate or rich 
 cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged, glazed 
 with crystalline glass, and a rich cupola in the 
 midst ; and all other elegancy that may be thought 
 upon. In the upper gallery, too, I wish that 
 there may be, if the place will yield it, some foun- 
 tains running in divers places from the wall, with 
 some fine avoidances. And thus much for the 
 model of the palace; save that you must have, 
 before you come to the front, three courts ; a 
 green court plain, with a wall about it ; a second 
 court of the same, but more garnished with little 
 turrets, or rather embellishments, upon the wall ; 
 and a third court, to make a square with the front, 
 but not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a naked 
 wall, but enclosed with terraces leaded aloft, and 
 fairly garnished on the three sides ; and cloistered 
 
OF BUILDING. 165 
 
 on the inside with pillars, and not with arches 
 below. As for offices, let them stand at distance, 
 with some low galleries to pass from them to the 
 palace itself. 
 
 XLVI. OF GARDENS. 
 
 GOD Almighty first planted a garden ; and, 
 indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures ; 
 it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of 
 man ; without which buildings and palaces are but 
 gross handy- works : and a man shall ever see, 
 that, when ages grow to civility and elegancy, 
 men come to build stately, sooner than to garden 
 finely ; as if gardening were the greater perfection. 
 I do hold it in the royal ordering of gardens, there 
 ought to be gardens for all the months in the 
 year, in which, severally, things of beauty may 
 be then in season. For December, and January, 
 and the latter part of November, you must take 
 such things as are green all winter : holly, ivy, 
 bays, juniper, cypress-trees, yew, pine-apple-trees; 
 fir-trees, rosemary, lavender ; periwinkle, the 
 white, the purple, and the blue ; germander, flag, 
 orange-trees, lemon-trees, and myrtles, if they be 
 stoved ; and sweet marjoram, warm set. There 
 followeth, for the latter part of January and Fe- 
 bruary, the mezereon-tree, which then blossoms ; 
 
166 ESSAYS. 
 
 crocus vermis, both the yellow and the grey; 
 primroses, anemones, the early tulip, the hyacin- 
 thus orientalis, chamairis fritellaria. For March, 
 there come violets, especially the single blue, which 
 are the earliest; the yellow daffodil, the daisy, the 
 almond-tree in blossom, the peach-tree in blossom, 
 the cornelian-tree in blossom, sweet-brier. In 
 April follow the double white violet, the wall- 
 flower, the stock-gilliflower, the cowslip, flower- 
 de-luces, and lilies of all natures ; rosemary- 
 flowers, the tulip, the double peony, the pale daf- 
 fodil, the French honeysuckle, the cherry-tree in 
 blossom, the damascene and plum-trees in blossom, 
 the white thorn in leaf, the lilac-tree. In May 
 and June come pinks of all sorts, especially the 
 blush-pink ; roses of all kinds, except the musk, 
 which comes later; honey-suckles, strawberries, 
 bug-loss, columbine, the French marigold, flos Afri- 
 canus, cherry-tree in fruit, ribes, figs in fruit, 
 rasps, vine-flowers, lavender in flowers, the sweet 
 satyrian, with the white flower ; herba muscaria, 
 lilium convallium, the apple-tree in blossom. In 
 July come gilliflowers of all varieties, musk-roses, 
 the lime-tree in blossom, early pears, and plums, 
 in fruit, genitings, codlins. In August come plums, 
 of all sorts in fruit, pears, apricots, barberries, 
 filberts, musk-melons, monks-hoods, of all colours. 
 In September come grapes, apples, poppies of all 
 colours, peaches, melocotones, nectarines, corne- 
 lians, wardens, quinces. In October and the be- 
 
OF GARDENS. 167 
 
 ginning of November come services, medlars, bul- 
 laces, roses cut or removed to come late, hollyoaks, 
 and such like. These particulars are for the cli- 
 mate of London; but my meaning is perceived, that 
 you may have "ver perpetuum," as the place af- 
 fords. 
 
 And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter 
 in the air, (where it comes and goes, like the warb- 
 ling of music,) than in the hand, therefore nothing 
 is more fit for that delight, than to know what be 
 the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air. 
 Roses, damask and red, are fast flowers of their 
 smells ; so that you may walk by a whole row of 
 them, and find nothing of their sweetness; yea, 
 though it be in a morning's dew. Bays, likewise, 
 yield no smell as they grow, rosemary little, nor 
 sweet marjoram ; that which, above all others, yields 
 the sweetest smell in the air, is the violet, espe- 
 cially the white double violet, which comes twice 
 a year, about the middle of April, and about Bar- 
 tholomew-tide. Next to that is the musk-rose ; 
 then the strawberry-leaves dying, with a most ex- 
 cellent cordial smell; then the flower of the vines, 
 it is a little dust like the dust of a bent, which grows 
 upon the cluster in the first coming forth; then 
 sweet-brier, then wall-flowers, which are very de- 
 lightful to be set under a parlour or lower cham- 
 ber window ; then pinks and gilliflowers, especially 
 the matted pink and clove gilliflower; then the 
 flowers of the lime-tree ; then the honeysuckles, 
 
168 ESSAYS. 
 
 so they be somewhat afar off. Of bean-flowers I 1 J 
 speak not, because they are field flowers ; but those | ( 
 which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed ^ 2 
 by as the rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, I i 
 are three, that is, burnet, wild thyme, and water- i s 
 mints ; therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, , 
 to have the pleasure when you walk or tread. 
 
 For gardens (speaking of those which are, in- | 
 deed, prince-like, as we have done of buildings), 
 the contents ought not well to be under thirty acres 
 of ground, and to be divided into three parts ; a j 
 green in the entrance, a heath, or desert, in the 
 going forth, and the main garden in the midst, be- | 
 sides alleys on both sides; and I like well, that four \ 
 acres of ground be assigned to the green, six to the j 
 heath, four and four to either side, and twelve to the 
 main garden. The green hath two pleasures : the | 
 one, because nothing is more pleasant to the eye j 
 than green grass kept finely shorn; the other, be- | 
 cause it will give you a fair alley in the midst, by 
 which you may go in front upon a stately hedge, I 
 which is to enclose the garden : but because the 
 alley will be long, and, in great heat of the year, 
 or day, you ought not to buy the shade in the gar- 
 den by going in the sun through the green ; there- 
 fore you are, of either side the green, to plant a 
 covert alley, upon carpenter's work, about twelve 
 foot in height, by which you may go in shade into 
 the garden. As for the making of knots, or figures, 
 with divers coloured earths, that they may lie un- 
 
OF GARDENS. 169 
 
 der the windows of the house on that side which 
 the garden stands, they be but toys ; you may see 
 as good sights many times in tarts. The garden 
 is best to be square, encompassed on all the four 
 sides with a stately arched hedge ; the arches to be 
 upon pillars of carpenter's work, of some ten foot 
 high, and six foot broad, and the spaces between 
 of the same dimension with the breadth of the arch. 
 Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of 
 some four foot high, framed also upon carpenter's 
 work ; and upon the upper hedge, over every arch, a 
 little turret, with a belly enough to receive a cage of 
 birds : and over every space between the arches some 
 other little figure, with broad plates of round co- 
 loured glass gilt, for the sun to play upon : but this 
 hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, 
 but gently slope, of some six foot, set all with 
 flowers. Also I understand, that this square of the 
 garden should not be the whole breadth of the 
 ground, but to leave on either side ground enough 
 for diversity of side alleys, unto which the two 
 covert alleys of the green may deliver you ; but 
 there must be no alleys with hedges at either end 
 of this great enclosure ; not at the hither end, for 
 letting your prospect upon this fair edge from the 
 green ; nor at the further end, for letting your 
 prospect from the hedge through the arches upon 
 the heath. 
 
 For the ordering of the ground within the great 
 hedge, I leave it to variety of device ; advising, 
 
170 ESSAYS. 
 
 nevertheless, that whatsoever form you cast it into 
 first, it be not too busy, or full of work ; wherein 
 I, for my part, do not like images cut out in juni- 
 per or other garden stuff; they be for children. 
 Little low hedges, round like welts, with some 
 pretty pyramids, I like well ; and in some places 
 fair columns, upon frames of carpenter's work. I 
 would also have the alleys spacious and fair. You 
 may have closer alleys upon the side grounds, but 
 none in the main garden. I wish also, in the very 
 middle, a fair mount, with three ascents and alleys, 
 enough for four to walk abreast ; which I would 
 have to be perfect circles, without any bulwarks or 
 embossments ; and the whole mount to be thirty 
 foot high, and some fine banquetting-house with 
 some chimneys neatly cast, and without too much 
 glass. 
 
 For fountains, they are a great beauty and re- 
 freshment; but pools mar all, and make the garden 
 unwholesome, and full of flies and frogs. Foun- 
 tains I intend to be of two natures ; the one that 
 sprinkleth or spouteth water : the other a fair re- 
 ceipt of water, of some thirty or forty foot square, 
 but without fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, 
 the ornaments of images, gilt or of marble, which 
 are in use, do well : but the main matter is so to 
 convey the water, as it never stay, either in the 
 bowls or in the cistern : that the water be never 
 by rest discoloured, green or red, or the like, or 
 gather any mossiness or putrefaction; besides that, 
 
OF GARDENS. 171 
 
 it is to be cleansed every day by the hand : also 
 some steps up to it, and some fine pavement about 
 it doth well. As for the other kind of fountain, 
 which we may call a bathing pool, it may admit 
 much curiosity and beauty, wherewith we will not 
 trouble ourselves : as, that the bottom be finely 
 paved, and with images ; the sides likewise ; and 
 withal embellished with coloured glass, and such 
 things of lustre ; encompassed also with fine rails 
 of low statues : but the main point is the same 
 which we mentioned in the former kind of foun- 
 tain ; which is, that the water be in perpetual mo- 
 tion, fed by a water higher than the pool, and de- 
 livered into it by fair spouts, and then discharged 
 away under ground, by some equality of bores, 
 that it stay little ; and for fine devices, of arching 
 water without spilling, and making it rise in several 
 forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and 
 the like), they be pretty things to look on, but no- 
 thing to health and sweetness. 
 
 For the heath, which was the third part of our 
 plot, I wished it to be framed as much as may be 
 to a natural wildness. Trees I would have none 
 in it, but some thickets made only of sweet-brier 
 and honeysuckle, and some wild vine amongst; and 
 the ground set with violets, strawberries, and prim- 
 roses ; for these are sweet, and prosper in the shade ; 
 and these to be in the heath here and there, not in 
 any order. I like also little heaps, in the nature 
 of mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), to be set, 
 
172 ESSAYS. 
 
 some with wild thyme, some with pinks, some with 
 germander, that gives a good flower to the eye ; 
 some with periwinkle, some with violets, some with 
 strawberries, some with cowslips, some with daisies, 
 some with red roses, some with lilium convallium, 
 some with sweet-williams red, some with bear's-foot, 
 and the like low flowers, being withal sweet and 
 sightly ; part of which heaps to be with standards 
 of little bushes pricked upon their top, and part 
 without : the standards to be roses, juniper, holly, 
 barberries (but here and there, because of the smell 
 of their blossom,) red currants, gooseberries, rose- 
 mary, bays, sweet-brier, and such-like : but these 
 standards to be kept with cutting, that they grow 
 not out of course. 
 
 For the side grounds, you are to fill them with 
 variety of alleys, private, to give a full shade ; some 
 of them, wheresoever the sun be. You are to frame 
 some of them likewise for shelter, that when the 
 wind blows sharp, you may walk as in a gallery : 
 and those alleys must be likewise hedged at both 
 ends, to keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys 
 must be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, because 
 of going wet. In many of these alleys, likewise, 
 you are to set fruit-trees of all sorts, as well upon 
 the walls as in ranges ; and this should be generally 
 observed, that the borders wherein you plant your 
 fruit-trees be fair, and large, and low, and not steep ; 
 and set with fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, 
 lest they deceive the trees. At the end of both the 
 
OF GARDENS. 173 
 
 side grounds I would have a mount of some pretty 
 height, leaving the wall of the enclosure breast high, 
 to look abroad into the fields. 
 
 For the main garden I do not deny but there 
 should be some fair alleys ranged on both sides, 
 with fruit-trees, and some pretty tufts of fruit-trees 
 and arbours with seats, set in some decent order ; 
 but these to be by no means set too thick, but to 
 leave the main garden so as it be not close, but the 
 air open and free. For as for shade, I would have 
 you rest upon the alleys of the side grounds, there 
 to walk, if you be disposed, in the heat of the year 
 or day ; but to make account that the main garden 
 is for the more temperate parts of the year, and, in 
 the heat of summer, for the morning and the even- 
 ing, or overcast days. 
 
 For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of 
 that largeness as they may be turfed, and have living 
 plants and bushes set in them ; that the birds may 
 have more scope and natural nestling, and that no 
 foulness appear in the floor of the aviary. So I 
 have made a platform of a princely garden, partly 
 by precept, partly by drawing ; not a model, but 
 some general lines of it ; and in this I have spared 
 for no cost : but it is nothing for great princes, that, 
 for the most part, taking advice with workmen, with 
 no less cost set their things together, and sometimes 
 add statues, and such things, for state and magni- 
 ficence, but nothing to the true pleasure of a garden. 
 
174 ESSAYS. 
 
 XLVII. OF NEGOCIATING. 
 
 IT is generally better to deal by speech than by 
 letter ; and by the mediation of a third than by 
 a man's self. Letters are good, when a man would 
 draw an answer by letter back again ; or w T hen it 
 may serve for a man's justification afterwards to 
 produce his own letter ; or where it may be dan- 
 ger to be interrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal 
 in person is good, when a man's face breedeth re- 
 gard, as commonly with inferiors ; or in tender 
 cases, where a man's eye upon the countenance of 
 him with whom he speaketh, may give him a direc- 
 tion how far to go ; and generally, where a man 
 will reserve to himself liberty, either to disavow or 
 to expound. In choice of instruments, it is better 
 to choose men of a plainer sort, that are like to do 
 that, that is committed to them, and to report back 
 again faithfully the success, than those that are 
 cunning to contrive out of other men's business 
 somewhat to grace themselves, and will help the 
 matter in report, for satisfaction sake. Use also 
 such persons as affect the business wherein they 
 are employed, for that quickenethmuch; and such 
 as are fit for the matter, as bold men for expostu- 
 lation, fair spoken men for persuasion, crafty men 
 for inquiry and observation, froward and absurd 
 men for business that doth not well bear out itself. 
 
OF NEGOCIATING. 175 
 
 Use also such as have been lucky and prevailed 
 before in things wherein you have employed them ; 
 for that breeds confidence, and they will strive to 
 maintain their prescription. It is better to sound 
 a person with whom one deals afar off, than to fall 
 upon the point at first, except you mean to surprise 
 him by some short question. It is better dealing 
 with men in appetite, than with those that are where 
 they would be. If a man deal with another upon 
 conditions, the start of first performance is all : 
 which a man cannot reasonably demand, except 
 either the nature of the thing be such, which must 
 go before : or else a man can persuade the other 
 party, that he shall still need him in some other 
 thing; or else that he be counted the hones ter man. 
 All practice is to discover, or to work. Men dis- 
 cover themselves in trust, in passion, at unawares ; 
 and of necessity, when they would have somewhat 
 done, and cannot find an apt pretext. If you would 
 work any man, you must either know his nature 
 and fashions, and so lead him ; or his ends, and so 
 persuade him; or his weakness and disadvantages, 
 and so awe him ; or those that have interest in him, 
 and so govern him. In dealing with cunning per- 
 sons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret 
 their speeches; and it is good to say little to them, 
 and that which they least look for. In all negoci- 
 ations of difficulty, a man may not look to sow 
 and reap at once ; but must prepare business, and 
 so ripen it by degrees. 
 
176 ESSAYS. 
 
 XLVIII. OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 
 
 COSTLY followers are not to be liked; lest 
 while a man maketh his train longer, he make 
 his wings shorter. I reckon to be costly, not them 
 alone which charge the purse, but which are wea- 
 risome and importune in suits. Ordinary followers 
 ought to challenge no higher conditions than coun- 
 tenance, recommendation, and protection from 
 w r rongs. Factious followers are worse to be liked, 
 which follow not upon affection to him with whom 
 they range themselves, but upon discontentment 
 conceived against some other; whereupon com- 
 monly ensueth that ill intelligence, that we many 
 times see between great personages. Likewise glo- 
 rious followers, who make themselves as trumpets 
 of the commendation of those they follow, are full 
 of inconvenience, for they taint business through 
 want of secrecy ; and they export honour from a 
 man, and make him a return in envy. There is a 
 kind of followers, likewise, which are dangerous, 
 being indeed espials; which inquire the secrets of 
 the house, and bear tales of them to others ; yet 
 such men, many times, are in great favour ; for 
 they are officious, and commonly exchange tales. 
 The following by certain estates of men, answer- 
 able to that which a great person himself professeth, 
 
OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 177 
 
 (as of soldiers to him that hath been employed in 
 the wars, and the like), hath ever been a thing civil, 
 and well taken even in monarchies, so it be with- 
 out too much pomp or popularity : but the most 
 honourable kind of following, is to be followed as 
 one that apprehendeth to advance virtue and desert 
 in all sorts of persons ; and yet, where there is ho 
 eminent odds in sufficiency, it is better to take with 
 the more passable, than with the more able; and 
 besides, to speak truth in base times, active men 
 are of more use than virtuous. It is true, that in 
 government, it is good to use men of one rank 
 equally : for to countenance some extraordinarily, 
 is to make them insolent, and the rest discontent ; 
 because they may claim a due : but contrariwise 
 in favour, to use men with much difference and 
 election is good ; for it maketh the persons pre- 
 ferred more thankful, and the rest more officious : 
 because all is of favour. It is good discretion not 
 to make too much of any man at the first ; because 
 one cannot hold out that proportion. To be go- 
 verned (as we call it), by one, is not safe ; for it 
 shews softness, and gives a freedom to scandal and 
 disreputation ; for those that would not censure, 
 or speak ill of a man immediately, will talk more 
 boldly of those that are so great with them, and 
 thereby wound their honour ; yet to be distracted 
 with many, is worse ; for it makes men to be of 
 the last impression, and full of change. To take 
 advice of some few friends is ever honourable ; 
 
 NT 
 
178 ESSAYS. 
 
 for lookers-on many times see more than game- 
 sters ; and the vale best discovereth the hill. 
 There is little friendship in the world, and least 
 of all between equals, which was wont to be mag- 
 nified. That that is, is between superior and infe- 
 rior, whose fortunes may comprehend the one the 
 other. 
 
 XLIX. OF SUITORS. 
 
 MANY ill matters and projects are under- 
 taken; and private suits do putrefy the 
 public good. Many good matters are undertaken 
 with bad minds ; I mean not only corrupt minds, 
 but crafty minds ; that intend not performance. 
 Some embrace suits, which never mean to deal 
 effectually in them ; but if they see there may be 
 life in the matter, by some other mean, they will 
 be content to win a thank, or take a second re- 
 ward, or at least, to make use in the mean time of 
 the suitor's hopes. Some take hold of suits only 
 for an occasion to cross some other, or to make 
 an information, whereof they could not otherwise 
 have apt pretext, without care what become of 
 the suit when that turn is served ; or, generally, 
 to make other men's business a kind of entertain- 
 ment to bring in their own : nay, some undertake 
 suits with a full purpose to let them fall ; to the 
 
OF SUITORS. 1 79 
 
 end to gratify the adverse party, or competitor. 
 Surely there is in some sort a right in every suit ; 
 either a right of equity, if it be a suit of contro- 
 versy, or a right of desert if it be a suit of petition. 
 If affection lead a man to favour the wrong side 
 in justice, let him rather use his countenance to 
 compound the matter than to carry it. If affection 
 lead a man to favour the less worthy in desert, let 
 him do it without depraving or disabling the better 
 deserver. In suits which a man doth not well 
 understand, it is good to refer them to some friend 
 of trust and judgment, that may report whether 
 he may deal in them with honour : but let him 
 choose well his referendaries, for else he may be 
 led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with 
 delays and abuses, that plain dealing in denying 
 to deal in suits at first, and reporting the success 
 barely, and in challenging no more thanks than 
 one hath deserved, is grown not only honourable 
 but also gracious. In suits of favour, the first 
 coming ought to take little place ; so far forth 
 consideration may be had of his trust, that if in- 
 telligence of the matter could not otherwise have 
 been had but by him, advantage be not taken of 
 the note, but the party left to his other means ; 
 and in some sort recompensed for his discovery. 
 To be ignorant of the value of a suit, is simplicity; 
 as well as to be ignorant of the right thereof, is 
 want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a great 
 mean of obtaining ; for voicing them to be in for- 
 
180 ESSAYS. 
 
 wardness may discourage some kind of suitors ; 
 but doth quicken and awake others : but timing of 
 the suit is the principal ; timing I say, not only 
 in respect of the person that should grant it, but 
 in respect of those which are like to cross it. Let 
 a man, in the choice of his mean, rather choose 
 the fittest mean, than the greatest mean ; and 
 rather them that deal in certain things, than those 
 that are general. The reparation of a denial is 
 sometimes equal to the first grant, if a man shew 
 himself neither dejected nor discontented. " Ini- 
 quum petas, ut sequum feras," is a good rule, 
 where a man hath strength of favour : but other- 
 wise a man were better rise in his suit ; for he 
 that would have ventured at first to have lost the 
 suitor, will not, in the conclusion, lose both the 
 suitor and his own former favour. Nothing is 
 thought so easy a request to a great person, as 
 his letter; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, 
 it is so much out of his reputation. There are no 
 worse instruments than these general contrivers of 
 suits ; for they are but a kind of poison and infec- 
 tion to public proceedings. 
 
181 
 
 L. OF STUDIES. 
 
 STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and 
 for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in 
 privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in dis- 
 course ; and for ability, is in the judgment and 
 disposition of business ; for expert men can exe- 
 cute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by 
 one: but the general counsels, and the plots and 
 marshalling of affairs come best from those that 
 are learned. To spend too much time in studies, 
 is sloth ; to use them too much for ornament, is 
 affectation; to make judgment wholly by their 
 rules, is the humour of a scholar : they perfect 
 nature, and are perfected by experience : for na- 
 tural abilities are like natural plants, that need 
 pruning by study ; and studies themselves do give 
 forth directions too much at large, except they be 
 bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn 
 studies, simple men admire them, and wise men 
 use them ; for they teach not their own use ; but 
 that is a wisdom without them, and above them, 
 won by observation. Read not to contradict and 
 confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor 
 to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and con- 
 sider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be 
 swallowed, and some few to be chewed and di- 
 
182 ESSAYS. 
 
 gested ; that is, some books are to be read only in 
 parts ; others to be read, but not curiously ; and 
 some few to be read wholly, and with diligence 
 and attention. Some books also may be read by 
 deputy, and extracts made of them by others ; but 
 that would be only in the less important argu- 
 ments and the meaner sort of books ; else distilled 
 books are, like common distilled waters, flashy 
 things. Reading maketh a full man ; conference 
 a ready man ; and writing an exact man ; and, 
 therefore, if a man write little, he had need have 
 a great memory ; if he confer little, he had need 
 have a present wit ; and if he read little, he had 
 need have much cunning, to seem to know that 
 he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets, 
 witty ; the mathematics, subtile ; natural philo- 
 sophy, deep ; moral, grave ; logic and rhetoric, 
 able to contend ; " Abeunt studia in mores ;" nay, 
 there is no stond or impediment in the wit, but 
 may be wrought out by fit studies : like as dis- 
 eases of the body may have appropriate exercises ; 
 bowling is good for the stone and reins, shooting 
 for the lungs and breast, gentle walking for the 
 stomach, riding for the head and the like ; so if a 
 man's wit be wandering, let him study the mathe- 
 matics ; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called 
 away never so little, he must begin again ; if his 
 wit be not apt to distinguish or find differences, 
 let him study the schoolmen, for they are " Cymini 
 
OF STUDIES. 183 
 
 • 
 
 sectores ;" if he be not apt to beat over matters, 
 and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate 
 another, let him study the lawyers' cases : so every 
 defect of the mind may have a special receipt. 
 
 LI. OF FACTION. 
 
 MANY have an opinion not wise, that for a 
 prince to govern his estate, or for a great 
 person to govern his proceedings, according to the 
 respect to factions, is a principal part of policy; 
 whereas, contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom is, either 
 in ordering those things which are general, and 
 wherein men of several factions do nevertheless 
 agree, or in dealing with correspondence to parti- 
 cular persons, one by one : but I say not, that the 
 consideration of factions is to be neglected. Mean 
 men, in their rising must adhere ; but great men, 
 that have strength in themselves, were better to 
 maintain themselves indifferent and neutral : yet 
 even in beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he 
 be a man of the one faction, which is most passable 
 with the other, commonly giveth best way. The 
 lower and weaker faction is the firmer in conjunc- 
 tion; and it is often seen, that a few that are 
 stiff, do tire out a great number that are more 
 moderate. When one of the factions is ex tin- 
 
184 ESSAYS. 
 
 guished, the remaining subdivideth ; as the faction 
 between Lucullus and the rest of the nobles of the 
 senate (which they called " optimates") held out 
 awhile against the faction of Pompey and Caesar ; 
 but when the senate's authority was pulled down, 
 Caesar and Pompey soon after brake. The faction 
 or party of Antonius and Octavianus Caesar, against 
 Brutus and Cassius, held out likewise for a time, 
 but when Brutus and Cassius were overthrown, 
 then soon after Antonius and Octavianus brake 
 and subdivided. These examples are of wars, but 
 the same holdeth in private factions : and, there- 
 fore, those that are seconds in factions, do many 
 times, when the faction subdivideth, prove prin- 
 cipals; but many times also they prove cyphers 
 and cashiered; for many a man's strength is in 
 opposition ; and when that faileth, he groweth out 
 of use. It is commonly seen that men once placed, 
 take in with the contrary faction to that by which 
 they enter: thinking, belike, that they have the 
 first sure, and now are ready for a new purchase. 
 The traitor in faction lightly goeth away with it, 
 for w T hen matters have stuck long in balancing, 
 the winning of some one man casteth them, and he 
 getteth all the thanks. The even carriage between 
 two factions proceedeth not always of moderation, 
 but of a trueness to a man's self, with end to make 
 use of both. Certainly, in Italy, they hold it a 
 little suspect in popes, when they have often in 
 their mouth " Padre commune :" and take it to be 
 
OF FACTION. 185 
 
 a sign of one that meaneth to refer all to the great- 
 ness of his own house. Kings had need beware 
 how they side themselves, and make themselves 
 as of a faction or party; for leagues within the 
 state are ever pernicious to monarchies ; for they 
 raise an obligation paramount to obligation of 
 sovereignty, and make the king " tanquam unus 
 ex nobis;" as was to be seen in the league of 
 France. When factions are carried too high and 
 too violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes, 
 and much to the prejudice both of their authority 
 and business. The motions of factions under kings, 
 ought to be like the motions (as the astronomers 
 speak,) of the inferior orbs, which may have their 
 proper motions, but yet still are quietly carried by 
 the higher motion of " primum mobile." 
 
 LII. OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 
 HE that is only real, had need have exceeding 
 great parts of virtue ; as the stone had need 
 to be rich that is set without foil ; but if a man 
 mark it well, it is in praise and commendation of 
 men, as it is in gettings and gains : for the pro- 
 verb is true " That light gains make heavy purses ;" 
 for light gains come thick, whereas great come 
 but now and then : so it is true, that small mat- 
 ters win great* commendation, because they are 
 
186 ESSAYS. 
 
 continually in use and in note : whereas the occa- 
 sion of any great virtue cometh but on festivals ; 
 therefore it doth much add to a man's reputation, 
 and is, (as queen Isabella said), like perpetual let- 
 ters commendatory, to have good forms ; to attain 
 them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them ; for 
 so shall a man observe them in others ; and let 
 him trust himself with the rest ; for if he labour 
 too much to express them, he shall lose their 
 grace; which is to be natural and unaffected. 
 Some men's behaviour is like a verse, wherein 
 every syllable is measured ; how can a man com- 
 prehend great matters, that breaketh his mind too 
 much to small observations? Not to use cere- 
 monies at all, is to teach others not to use them 
 again ; and so diminisheth respect to himself; 
 especially they be not to be omitted to strangers 
 and formal natures ; but the dwelling upon them, 
 and exalting them above the moon, is not only 
 tedious, but doth diminish the faith and credit of 
 him that speaks; and, certainly, there is a kind 
 of conveying of effectual and imprinting passages 
 amongst compliments, which is of singular use, if 
 a man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers, 
 a man shall be sure of familiarity ; and therefore 
 it is good a little to keep state ; amongst a man's 
 inferiors, one shall be sure of reverence ; and there- 
 fore it is good a little to be familiar. He that is 
 too much in any thing, so that he giveth another 
 occasion of society, maketh himself cheap. To 
 
 
OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 187 
 
 apply one's self to others, is good ; so it be with 
 demonstration, that a man doth it upon regard, 
 and not upon facility. It is a good precept, gene- 
 rally in seconding another, yet to add somewhat 
 of one's own : as if you will grant his opinion, let 
 it be with some distinction ; if you will follow his 
 motion, let it be with condition ; if you allow his 
 counsel, let it be with alleging further reason. 
 Men had need beware how they be too perfect in 
 compliments ; for be they never so sufficient other- 
 wise, their enviers will be sure to give them that 
 attribute, to the disadvantage of their greater vir- 
 tues. It is loss also in business to be too fall of 
 respects, or to be too curious in observing times 
 and opportunities. Solomon saith, " He that con- 
 sidered the wind shall not sow, and he that looketh 
 to the clouds shall not reap." A wise man will 
 make more opportunities than he finds. Men's 
 behaviour should be like their apparel, not too 
 strait or point device, but free for exercise or 
 motion. 
 
 LIII. OF PRAISE. 
 
 PRAISE is the reflection of virtue, but it is as 
 the glass, or body, which giveth the reflec- 
 tion; if it be from the common people, it is com- 
 monly false and nought, and rather followeth vain 
 
188 ESSAYS. 
 
 persons than virtuous : for the common people 
 understand not many excellent virtues : the lowest 
 virtues draw praise from them, the middle virtues 
 work in them astonishment or admiration ; but of 
 the highest virtues they have no sense or per- 
 ceiving at all ; but shews and " species virtutibus 
 similes," serve best with them. Certainly, fame 
 is like a river, that beareth up things light and 
 swollen, and drowns things weighty and solid ; 
 but if persons of quality and judgment concur, 
 then it is (as the Scripture saith), " Nomen bo- 
 num instar unguenti fragrantis ; " it filleth all 
 round about, and will not easily away; for the 
 odours of ointments are more durable than those 
 of flowers. There be so many false points of 
 praise, that a man may justly hold it a suspect. 
 Some praises proceed merely of flattery ; and if 
 he be an ordinary flatterer, he will have certain 
 common attributes, which may serve every man ; 
 if he be a cunning flatterer, he will follow the 
 arch-flatterer, which is a man's self, and wherein 
 a man thinketh best of himself, therein the flat- 
 terer will uphold him most : but if he be an impu- 
 dent flatterer, look wherein a man is conscious to 
 himself that he is most defective, and is most out 
 of countenance in himself, that will the flatterer 
 entitle him to, perforce, " spreta conscientia." 
 Some praises come of good wishes and respects, 
 which is a form due in civility to kings and great 
 persons, " laudando prsecipere;" when by telling 
 
I 
 
 OF PRAISE. 189 
 
 men what they are, they represent to them what 
 they should be : some men are praised maliciously 
 to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy 
 towards them; " Pessimum genus inimicorum lau- 
 dantium ; " insomuch as it was a proverb amongst 
 the Grecians, that, " he that was praised to his 
 hurt, should have a push rise upon his nose ; " 
 as we say, that a blister will rise upon one's tongue 
 that tells a lie ; certainly, moderate praise, used 
 with opportunity, and not vulgar, is that which 
 doth the good. Solomon saith, " He that praiseth 
 his friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no 
 better than a curse. " Too much magnifying of 
 man or matter doth irritate contradiction, and pro- 
 cure envy and scorn. To praise a man's self 
 cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases ; but 
 to praise a man's office or profession, he may do it 
 with good grace, and with a kind of magnanimity. 
 The cardinals of Rome, which are theologues, and 
 friars, and schoolmen, have a phrase of notable 
 contempt and scorn towards civil business, for they 
 call all temporal business of wars, embassages, ju« 
 dicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which 
 is under-sherinries, as if they were but matters 
 for under-sheriffs and catch-poles ; though many 
 times those under-sheriffries do more good than 
 their high speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts 
 of himself, he doth oft interlace, " I speak like a 
 fool ; " but speaking of his calling, he saith, 
 " Magnificabo apostolatum meum." 
 
190 ESSAYS. 
 
 LIV. OF VAIN GLORY. 
 
 IT was prettily devised of iEsop, the fly sat upon 
 the axle-tree of the chariot- wheel, and said, 
 " What a dust do I raise!" So are there some 
 vain persons, that, whatsoever goeth alone, or mo- 
 ve th upon greater means, if they have never so little 
 hand in it, they think it is they that carry it. They 
 that are glorious must needs be factious ; for all 
 bravery stands upon comparisons. They must 
 needs be violent to make good their own vaunts ; 
 neither can they be secret, and therefore not 
 effectual ; but according to the French proverb, 
 " beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit;" " much bruit, 
 little fruit." Yet, certainly, there is use of this 
 quality in civil affairs : where there is an opinion 
 and fame to be created, either of virtue or great- 
 ness, these men are good trumpeters. Again, as 
 Titus Livius noteth, in the case of Antiochus and 
 the iEtolians, there are sometimes great effects of 
 cross lies ; as if a man that negociates between two 
 princes, to draw them to join in a war against the 
 third, doth extol the forces of either of them above 
 measure, the one to the other : and sometimes he 
 that deals between man and man, raiseth his own 
 credit with both, by pretending greater interest than 
 he hath in either : and in these, and the like kinds, 
 
OF VAIN GLORY. 191 
 
 it often falls out, that somewhat is produced of no- 
 thing* ; for lies are sufficient to breed opinion, and 
 opinion brings on substance. In military com- 
 manders and soldiers, vain glory is an essential 
 point ; for as iron sharpens iron, so by glory, one 
 courage sharpeneth another. In cases of great 
 enterprise upon charge and adventure, a composi- 
 tion of glorious natures doth put life into business ; 
 and those that are of solid and sober natures, have 
 more of the ballast than of the sail. In fame of 
 learning the flight will be. slow without some fea- 
 thers of ostentation : " Qui de contemnenda gloria 
 libros scribunt, nomen >uum inscribunt." Socra- 
 tes, Aristotle, Galen, were men full of ostentation : 
 certainly, vain glory helpeth to perpetuate a man's 
 memory ; and virtue was never so beholden to hu- 
 man nature, as it received its due at the second 
 hand. Neither had the fame of Cicero, Seneca, 
 Plinius Secundus, borne her age so well if it had 
 not been joined with some vanity in themselves ; 
 like unto varnish, that makes ceilings not only 
 shine, but last. But all this while, when I speak 
 of vain glory, I mean not of that property that Ta- 
 citus doth attribute to Mucianus, " Omnium, quae 
 dixerat feceratque, arte quadam ostentator :" for 
 that proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magna- 
 nimity and discretion ; and, in some persons, is 
 not only comely, but gracious : for excusations, 
 cessions, modesty itself, well governed, are but arts 
 of ostentation; and amongst those arts there is 
 
192 ESSAYS. 
 
 none better than that which Plinius Secundus 
 speaketh of, which is to be liberal of praise and 
 commendation to others, in that wherein a man's 
 self hath any perfection : for, saith Pliny, very 
 wittily, " In commending another you do yourself 
 right ;" for he that you commend is either superior 
 to you in that you commend, or inferior ; if he be 
 inferior, if he be to be commended, you much more ; 
 if he be superior, if he be not to be commended, 
 you much less. Glorious men are the scorn of 
 wise men, the admiration of fools, the idols of pa- 
 rasites, and the slaves of their own vaunts. 
 
 LV. OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 THE winning of honour is but the revealing of 
 a man's virtue and worth without disadvan- 
 tage ; for some in their actions do woo and affect 
 honour and reputation ; which sort of men are 
 commonly much talked of, but inwardly little ad- 
 mired : and some, contrariwise, darken their virtue 
 in the shew of it ; so as they be undervalued in 
 opinion. If a man perform that which hath not 
 been attempted before, or attempted and given over, 
 or hath been achieved, but not with so good circum- 
 stance, he shall purchase more honour than by af- 
 fecting a matter of greater difficulty, or virtue, 
 wherein he is but a follower. If a man so temper 
 
HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 193 
 
 his actions, as in some one of them, he doth con- 
 tent every faction or combination of people, the 
 music will be the fuller. A man is an ill husband 
 of his honour that entereth into any action, the 
 failing wherein may disgrace him more than the 
 carrying of it through, can honour him. Honour 
 that is gained and broken upon another hath the 
 quickest reflection, like diamonds cut with facets ; 
 and, therefore, let a man contend to excel any com- 
 petitors of his in honour, in outshooting them, if 
 he can, in their own bow. Discreet followers and 
 servants help much to reputation: " Omnis fama 
 a domesticis emanat." Envy, which is the canker 
 of honour, is best extinguished by declaring a 
 man's self in his ends, rather to seek merit than 
 fame : and by attributing a man's successes ra- 
 ther to divine Providence and felicity, than to 
 his own virtue or policy. The true marshalling 
 of the degrees of sovereign honour are these : 
 in the first place are " conditores imperiorum," 
 founders of states and commonwealths ; such as 
 were Romulus, Cyrus, Csesar, Ottoman, Ismael : 
 in the second place are " legislatores," lawgivers ; 
 which are also called second founders, or " per- 
 petui principes," because they govern by their 
 ordinances after they are gone ; such were Lycur- 
 gus, Solon, Justinian, Edgar, Alphonsus of Cas- 
 tile, the wise, that made the " Siete partidas :" 
 in the third place are " liberatores," or " salva- 
 tores," such as compound the long miseries of civil 
 o 
 
194 ESSAYS. 
 
 wars, or deliver their countries from servitude of 
 strangers or tyrants ; as Augustus Caesar, Vespa- 
 sianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King 1 Henry the 
 Seventh of England, King Henry the Fourth of 
 France: in the fourth place are " propagatores," 
 or " propugnatores imperii," such as in honour- 
 able wars enlarge their territories, or make noble 
 defence against invaders : and, in the last place, 
 are " patres patriae/' which reign justly and make 
 the times good wherein they live ; both which last 
 kinds need no examples, they are in such number. 
 Degrees of honour in subjects are, first, " partici- 
 pes curarum," those upon whom princes do dis- 
 charge the greatest weight of their affairs ; their 
 right hands, as we call them: the next are " duces 
 belli/' great leaders; such as are princes' lieute- 
 nants, and do them notable services in the wars : 
 the third are " gratiosi," favourites ; such as ex- 
 ceed not this scantling, to be solace to the sove- 
 reign, and harmless to the people : and the fourth, 
 " negotiis pares;" such as have great places under 
 princes, and execute their places with sufficiency. 
 There is an honour, likewise, which may be ranked 
 amongst the greatest, which happeneth rarely ; 
 that is, of such as sacrifice themselves to death or 
 clanger for the good of their country; as was M. 
 Regulus, and the two Decii. 
 
195 
 
 LVI. OF JUDICATURE. 
 
 JUDGES ought to remember that their office is 
 "jus dicere," and not "jus dare;" to interpret 
 law, and not to make law, or give law; else will it 
 be like the authority claimed by the church of Rome, 
 which under pretext of exposition of scripture, doth 
 not stick to add and alter, and to pronounce that, 
 which they do not find, and by show of antiquity to 
 introduce novelty. Judges ought to be more learned 
 than witty, more reverend than plausible, and more 
 advised than confident. Above all things, integrity 
 is their portion and proper virtue. " Cursed (saith 
 the law) is he that remove th the landmark.'' The 
 mislayer of a mere stone is to blame ; but it is the 
 unjust judge that is the capital remover of land- 
 marks, when he defineth amiss of lands and property. 
 One foul sentence doth more hurt than many foul 
 examples ; for these do but corrupt the stream, the 
 other corrupteth the fountain : so saith Solomon, 
 " Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta est Justus cadens 
 in causa sua coram adversario." The office of judges 
 may have reference unto the parties that sue, unto 
 the advocates that plead, unto the clerks and minis- 
 ters of justice underneath them, and to the sovereign 
 or state above them. 
 
 First, for the causes or parties that sue. " There 
 
196 ESSAYS. 
 
 be (saith the Scripture) that turn judgment into 
 wormwood;" and surely there be, also, that turn 
 it into vinegar; for injustice maketh it bitter, and 
 delays make it sour. The principal duty of a judge 
 is, to suppress force and fraud; whereof force is the 
 more pernicious when it is open, and fraud when it 
 is close and disguised. Add thereto contentious 
 suits, which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeit 
 of courts. A judge ought to prepare his way to a 
 just sentence, as God useth to prepare his way, by 
 raising valleys and taking down hills : so when 
 there appeareth on either side a high hand, vio- 
 lent prosecution, cunning advantages taken, com- 
 bination, power, great counsel, then is the virtue 
 of a judge seen to make inequality equal ; that he 
 may plant his judgment as upon an even ground. 
 " Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sanguinem;" and 
 where the wine-press is hard wrought, it yields a 
 harsh wine, that tastes of the grape-stone. Judges 
 must beware of hard constructions, and strained 
 inferences ; for there is no worse torture thanjhe 
 torture of laws : especially in case of laws penal, 
 they ought to have care that that which was meant 
 for terror be not turned into rigour ; and that they 
 bring not upon the people that shower whereof the 
 Scripture speaketh, " Pluet super eos laqueos;" 
 for penal laws pressed, are a shower of snares upon 
 the people : therefore let penal laws, if they have 
 been sleepers of long, or if they be grown unfit for 
 the present time, be by wise judges confined in the 
 
OF JUDICATURE. 197 
 
 execution : " Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tem- 
 pora rerum," &c. In causes of life and death judges 
 ought, (as far as the law permitteth) in justice to 
 remember mercy, and to cast a severe eye upon the 
 example, but a merciful eye upon the person. 
 
 Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that 
 plead. Patience and gravity of hearing is an es- 
 sentiajLparjfcofjustice ; and an overspeaking judge 
 is no well-tuned cymbal. It is no grace to a judge 
 first to find that which he might have heard in due 
 time from the bar ; or to show quickness of conceit 
 in cutting off evidence or counsel too short, or to 
 prevent information by questions, though pertinent. 
 The parts of a judge in hearing are four : to direct 
 the evidence ; to moderate length, repetition, or 
 impertinency of speech; to recapitulate, select, and 
 collate the material points of that which hath been 
 said, and to give the rule, or sentence. Whatsoever 
 is above these is too much, and proceedeth either 
 of glory and willingness to speak, or of impatience 
 to hear, or of shortness of memory, or of want of 
 a staid and equal attention. It is a strange thing 
 to see that the boldness of advocates should prevail 
 with judges; whereas they should imitate God, in 
 whose seat they sit, who represseth the presump- 
 tuous, and giveth grace to the modest: but it is 
 more strange, that judges should have noted fa- 
 vourites, which cannot but cause multiplication of 
 fees, and suspicion of by-ways. There is due from 
 the judge to the advocate some commendation and 
 
198 ESSAYS. 
 
 gracing, where causes are well handled and fair 
 pleaded, especially towards the side which obtaineth 
 not ; for that upholds in the client the reputation 
 of his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit 
 of his cause. There is likewise due to the public 
 a civil reprehension of advocates, where there ap- 
 peareth cunning counsel, gross neglect, slight in- 
 formation, indiscreet pressing, or an over-bold de- 
 fence ; and let not the counsel at the bar chop with 
 the judge, nor wind himself into the handling of 
 the cause anew after the judge hath declared his 
 sentence ; but, on the other side, let not the judge 
 meet the cause half way, nor give occasion to the 
 party to say, his counsel or proofs were not heard. 
 
 Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and minis- 
 ters. The place of justice is a hallowed place ; 
 and therefore not only the bench but the foot-pace 
 and precincts, and purprise thereof ought to be pre- 
 served without scandal and corruption ; for, cer- 
 tainly, "Grapes, (as the Scripture saith,) will not 
 be gathered of thorns or thistles ; " neither can jus- 
 tice yield her fruit with sweetness amongst the 
 briers and brambles of catching and polling clerks 
 and ministers. The attendance of courts is subject 
 to four bad instruments : first, certain persons that 
 are sowers of suits, which make the court swell, 
 and the country pine : the second sort is of those 
 that engage courts in quarrels of jurisdiction, and 
 are not truly "amici curiae," but "parasiti curiae," 
 in puffing a court up beyond her bounds for their 
 
OF JUDICATURE. 199 
 
 own scraps and advantage : the third sort is of those 
 that may be accounted the left hands of courts : 
 persons that are full of nimble and sinister tricks 
 and shifts, whereby they pervert the plain and di- 
 rect courses of courts, and bring justice into oblique 
 lines and labyrinths : and the fourth is the poller 
 and exacter of fees : which justifies the common 
 resemblance of the courts of justice to the bush, 
 whereunto, while the sheep flies for defence in 
 weather, he is sure to lose part of his fleece. On 
 the other side, an ancient clerk, skilful in prece- 
 dents, wary in proceeding, and understanding in 
 the business of the court, is an excellent finger of 
 a court, and doth many times point the way to the 
 judge himself. 
 
 Fourthly, for that which may concern the sove- 
 reign and estate. Judges ought, above all, to 
 remember the conclusion of the Roman twelve 
 tables, " Salus populi suprema lex ; " and to know 
 that laws, except they be in order to that end, are 
 but things captious, and oracles not well inspired : 
 therefore it is a happy thing in a state, when 
 kings and states do often consult with judges ; 
 and again, when judges do often consult with the 
 king and state : the one, when there is matter 
 of law intervenient in business of state ; the other, 
 when there is some consideration of state interve- 
 nient in matter of law ; for many times the things 
 deduced tojudgmentmaybe "meum"and " tuum," 
 when the reason and consequence thereof may 
 
200 ESSAYS. 
 
 trench to point of estate : I call matter of estate, 
 not only the parts of sovereignty, but whatso- 
 ever introduceth any great alteration, or dangerous 
 precedent; or concerneth manifestly any great 
 portion of people : and let no man weakly conceive 
 that just laws, and true policy, have any anti- 
 pathy ; for they are like the spirits and sinews, 
 that one moves with the other. Let judges also 
 remember, that Solomon's throne was supported 
 by lions on both sides : let them be lions, but yet 
 lions under the throne : being circumspect, that 
 they do not check or oppose any points of sove- 
 reignty. Let not judges also be so ignorant of 
 their own right, as to think there is not left to 
 them, as a principal part of their office, a wise use 
 and application of laws ; for they may remember 
 what the apostle saith of a greater law than theirs : 
 " Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modo quis ea 
 utatur legitime. " 
 
 LVII. OF ANGER. 
 
 TO seek to extinguish anger utterly is but a 
 bravery of the Stoics. We have better 
 oracles : " Be angry, but sin not : let not the sun 
 go down upon your anger." Anger must be 
 limited and confined both in race and in time. 
 We will first speak how the natural inclination 
 
OF ANGER. 201 
 
 and habit, " to be angry/' may be attempred and 
 calmed ; secondly, how the particular motions of 
 anger may be repressed, or, at least, refrained from 
 doing mischief; thirdly, how to raise anger, or ap- 
 pease anger in another. 
 
 For the first, there is no other way but to medi- 
 tate and ruminate well upon the effects of anger, 
 how it troubles man's life : and the best time to 
 do this, is to look back upon anger when the fit is 
 thoroughly over. Seneca saith well, " That anger 
 is like ruin, which breaks itself upon that it falls." 
 The Scripture exhorteth us " To possess our souls 
 in patience ; " whosoever is out of patience, is out 
 of possession of his soul. Men must not turn 
 bees ; 
 
 " animasque in vulnere ponunt." 
 
 Anger is certainly a kind of baseness ; as it appears 
 well in the weakness of those subjects in whom 
 it reigns, children, women, old folks, sick folks. 
 Only men must beware that they carry their anger 
 rather with scorn than with fear; so that they 
 may seem rather to be above the injury than be- 
 low it; which is a thing easily done, if a man 
 will give law to himself in it. 
 
 For the second point, the causes and motives of 
 anger are chiefly three : first, to be too sensible 
 of hurt ; for no man is angry that feels not him- 
 self hurt; and, therefore, tender and delicate per- 
 sons must needs be oft angry, they have so many 
 
202 ESSAYS. 
 
 things to trouble them, which more robust natures 
 have little sense of: the next is, the apprehension 
 and construction of the injury offered, to be, in 
 the circumstances thereof, full of contempt : for 
 contempt is that which putteth an edge upon anger, 
 as much, or more, than the hurt itself; and, there- 
 fore, when men are ingenious in picking out cir- 
 cumstances of contempt, they do kindle their anger 
 much : lastly, opinion of the touch of a man's 
 reputation doth multiply and sharpen anger ; 
 wherein the remedy is, that a man should have, 
 as Consalvo was wont to say, " telam honoris cras- 
 siorem." But in all refrainings of anger, it is 
 the best remedy to win time, and to make a man's 
 self believe that the opportunity of his revenge is 
 not yet come ; but that he foresees a time for it, 
 and so to still himself in the mean time, and re- 
 serve it. 
 
 To contain anger from mischief, though it take 
 hold of a man, there be two things whereof you 
 must have special caution : the one, of extreme 
 bitterness of words, especially if they be aculeate 
 and proper ; for " communia maledicta " are no- 
 thing so much ; and again, that in anger a man 
 reveal no secrets ; for that makes him not fit for 
 society : the other, that you do not peremptorily 
 break off in any business in a fit of anger ; but 
 howsoever you shew bitterness, do not act any 
 thing that is not revocable. 
 
 For raising and appeasing anger in another, it 
 
OF ANGER. 203 
 
 is done chiefly by choosing of times, when men 
 are frowardest and worst disposed to incense them ; 
 again, by gathering (as was touched before) all 
 that you can find out to aggravate the contempt : 
 and the two remedies are by the contraries : the 
 former to take good times, when first to relate to 
 a man an angry business, for the first impression 
 is much ; and the other is, to sever, as much as 
 may be, the construction of the injury from the 
 point of contempt ; imputing it to misunderstand- 
 ing, fear, passion, or what you will. 
 
 LVIII. OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 
 
 SOLOMON saith, " There is no new thing 
 upon the earth ; " so that as Plato had an 
 imagination that all knowledge was but remem- 
 brance; so Solomon giveth his sentence, " That 
 all novelty is but oblivion ; " whereby you may 
 see, that the river of Lethe runneth as well above 
 ground as below. There is an abstruse astrologer 
 that saith, if it were not for two things that are 
 constant, (the one is, that the fixed stars ever 
 stand at like distance one from another, and never 
 come nearer together, nor go further asunder; 
 the other, that the diurnal motion perpetually 
 keepeth time,) no individual would last one mo- 
 ment : certain it is, that the matter is in a per- 
 
204 XSSAYS. 
 
 petual flux, and never at a stay. The great wind- 
 ing-sheets that bury all things in oblivion are 
 two ; deluges and earthquakes. As for confla- 
 grations and great droughts, they do not merely 
 dispeople, but destroy. Phaeton's car went but a 
 day ; and the three years' drought in the time of 
 Elias, was but particular, and left people alive. 
 As for the great burnings by lightnings, which 
 are often in the West Indies, they are but narrow ; 
 but in the other two destructions, by deluge and 
 earthquake, it is further to be noted, that the 
 remnant of people which happen to be reserved, 
 are commonly ignorant and mountainous people, 
 that can give no account of the time past; so 
 that the oblivion is all one as if none had been 
 left. If you consider well of the people of the 
 West Indies, it is very probable that they are a 
 newer, or a younger people than the people of the 
 old world; and it is much more likely that the 
 destruction that hath heretofore been there, was 
 not by earthquakes (as the ^Egyptian priest told 
 Solon, concerning the island of Atlantis, that it 
 was swallowed by an earthquake), but rather, that, 
 it was desolated by a particular deluge : for earth- 
 quakes are seldom in those parts : but on the 
 other side, they have such pouring rivers, as the 
 rivers of Asia, and Africa, and Europe, are but 
 brooks to them. Their Andes likewise, or moun- 
 tains, are far higher than those with us ; whereby 
 it seems, that the remnants of generations of men 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 205 
 
 were in such a particular deluge saved. As for 
 the observation that Machiavel hath, that the jea- 
 lousy of sects doth much extinguish the memory 
 of things ; traducing Gregory the Great, that he 
 did what in him lay to extinguish all heathen 
 antiquities ; I do not find that those zeals do any 
 great effects, nor last long ; as it appeared in the 
 succession of Sabinian, who did revive the former 
 antiquities. 
 
 The vicissitude, or mutations, in the superior 
 globe, are no fit matter for this present argument. 
 It may be, Plato's great year, if the world should 
 last so long, would have some effect, not in renew- 
 ing the state of like individuals, (for that is the 
 fume of those that conceive the celestial bodies 
 have more accurate influences upon these things 
 below, than indeed they have) but in gross. Co- 
 mets, out of question, have likewise power and 
 effect over the gross and mass of things ; but they 
 are rather gazed upon, and waited upon in their 
 journey, than wisely observed in their effects ; 
 especially in their respective effects ; that is, what 
 kind of comet for magnitude, colour, version of 
 the beams, placing in the region of heaven, or 
 lasting, produceth what kind of effects. 
 
 There is a toy, which I have heard, and I would 
 not have it given over, but waited upon a little. 
 They say it is observed in the Low Countries, (I 
 know not in what part) that every five and thirty 
 years the same kind and suit of years and weathers 
 
206 ESSAYS. 
 
 comes about again ; as great frosts, great wet, 
 great droughts, warm winters, summers with little 
 heat, and the like, and they call it the prime : it 
 is a thing I do the rather mention, because, com- 
 puting backwards, I have found some concur- 
 rence. 
 
 But to leave these points of nature, and to come 
 to men. The greatest vicissitude of things amongst 
 men, is the vicissitude of sects and religions ; for 
 those orbs rule in men's minds most. The true 
 religion is built upon the rock ; the rest are tossed 
 upon the waves of time. To speak, therefore, of 
 the causes of new sects, and to give some counsel 
 concerning them, as far as the weakness of human 
 judgment can give stay to so great revolutions. 
 
 When the religion formerly received is rent by 
 discords, and when the holiness of the professors 
 of religion is decayed and full of scandal, and 
 withal the times be stupid, ignorant, and barba- 
 rous, you may doubt the springing up of a new 
 sect : if then also there should arise any extrava- 
 gant and strange spirit to make himself author 
 thereof; all which points held when Mahomet 
 published his law. If a new sect have not two 
 properties, fear it not, for it will not spread : the 
 one is the supplanting, or the opposing of autho- 
 rity established ; for nothing is more popular than 
 that; the other is the giving license to pleasures 
 and a voluptuous life : for as for speculative here- 
 sies, (such as were in ancient times the Arians, 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 207 
 
 and now the Arminians) though they work mightily 
 upon men's wits, yet they do not produce any 
 great alterations in states ; except it be by the 
 help of civil occasions. There be three manner 
 of plantations of new sects ; by the power of signs 
 and miracles ; by the eloquence and wisdom of 
 speech and persuasion ; and by the sword. For 
 martyrdoms, I reckon them amongst miracles, be- 
 cause they seem to exceed the strength of human 
 nature : and I may do the like of superlative and 
 admirable holiness of life. Surely there is no 
 better way to stop the rising of new sects and 
 schisms, than to reform abuses ; to compound the 
 smaller differences ; to proceed mildly, and not 
 with sanguinary persecutions ; and rather to take 
 off the principal authors, by winning and ad- 
 vancing them, than to enrage them by violence 
 and bitterness. 
 
 The changes and vicissitude in wars are many, 
 but chiefly in three things ; in the seats, or stages 
 of the war, in the weapons, and in the manner of 
 the conduct. Wars, in ancient time, seemed more 
 to move from east to west; for the Persians, As- 
 syrians, Arabians, Tartars, (which were the inva- 
 ders,) were all eastern people. It is true, the 
 Gauls were western ; but we read but of two in- 
 cursions of theirs : the one to Gallo-Graecia, the 
 other to Rome : but east and west have no certain 
 points of heaven ; and no more have the wars, 
 either from the east or west, any certainty of 
 
208 ESSAYS. 
 
 observation: but north and south are fixed; and 
 it hath seldom or never been seen that the far 
 southern people have invaded the northern, but 
 contrariwise ; whereby it is manifest that the 
 northern tract of the world is in nature the more 
 martial region: be it in respect of the stars of 
 that hemisphere, or of the great continents that 
 are upon the north ; whereas the south part, for 
 aught that is known, is almost all sea ; or, (which 
 is most apparent) of the cold of the northern parts, 
 which is that, which, without aid of discipline, 
 doth make the bodies hardest, and the courage 
 warmest. 
 
 Upon the breaking and shivering of a great 
 state and empire, you may be sure to have wars ; 
 for great empires, while they stand, do enervate 
 and destroy the forces of the natives which they 
 have subdued, resting upon their own protecting 
 forces ; and then, when they fail also, all goes to 
 ruin, and they become a prey; so was it in the 
 decay of the Roman empire, and likewise in the 
 empire of Almaigne, after Charles the Great, 
 every bird taking a feather; and were not unlike 
 to befall to Spain, if it should break. The great 
 accessions and unions of kingdoms do likewise 
 stir up wars : for when a state grows to an over- 
 power, it is like a great flood, that will be sure to 
 overflow ; as it hath been seen in the states of 
 Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others. Look when 
 the world hath fewest barbarous people, but such 
 
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 209 
 
 as commonly will not many, or generate, except 
 they known means to live, (as it is almost every 
 where at this day, except Tartary,) there is no 
 danger of inundations of people : but when there 
 be great shoals of people, which go on to popu- 
 late, without foreseeing means of life and sus- 
 tentation, it is of necessity that once in an age or 
 two they discharge a portion of their people upon 
 other nations, which the ancient northern people 
 were wont to do by lot ; casting lots what part 
 should stay at home, and what should seek their 
 fortunes. When a warlike state grows soft and 
 effeminate, they may be sure of a war : for com- 
 monly such states are grown rich in the time of 
 their degenerating : and so the prey inviteth, and 
 their decay in valour encourageth a war. 
 
 As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule 
 and observation : yet we see even they have returns 
 and vicissitudes ; for certain it is, that ordnance 
 was known in the city of the Oxidrakes, in India ; 
 and was that which the Macedonians called thun- 
 der and lightning, and magic ; and it is well known 
 that the use of ordnance hath been in China above 
 two thousand years. The conditions of weapons, 
 and their improvements, are, first, the fetching 
 afar off ; for that outruns the danger, as it is seen 
 in ordnance and muskets ; secondly, the strength 
 of the percussion ; wherein likewise ordnance do 
 exceed all arietations, and ancient inventions : the 
 third is, the commodious use of them ; as that they 
 p 
 
210 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 may serve in all weathers, that the carriage may 
 be light and manageable, and the like. 
 
 For the conduct of the war : at the first, men 
 rested extremely upon number ; they did put the 
 wars likewise upon main force and valour, pointing 
 days for pitched fields, and so trying it out upon 
 an even match ; and they were more ignorant in 
 ranging and arraying their battles. After they 
 grew to rest upon number, rather competent than 
 vast; they grew to advantages of place, cunning 
 diversions, and the like ; and they grew more 
 skilful in the ordering of their battles. 
 
 In the youth of a state, arms do flourish ; in the 
 middle age of a state, learning ; and then both of 
 them together for a time ; in the declining age of 
 a state, mechanical arts and merchandize. Learn- 
 ing hath its infancy when it is but beginning, and 
 almost childish ; then its youth, when it is luxuriant 
 and juvenile ; then its strength of years, when it is 
 solid and reduced; and, lastly, its old age, when 
 it waxeth dry and exhaust ; but it is not good to 
 look too long upon these turning wheels of vicissi- 
 tude, lest we become giddy : as for the philology 
 of them, that is but a circle of tales, and therefore 
 not frt for this writing. 
 
APPENDIX TO ESSAYS. 
 
 I. A FRAGMENT OF AN ESSAY OF FAME.* 
 
 THE poets make Fame a monster : they de- 
 scribe her in part finely and elegantly, and in 
 part gravely and sententiously : they say, look how 
 many feathers she hath, so many eyes she hath 
 underneath, so many tongues, so many voices, she 
 pricks up so many ears. 
 
 This is a flourish ; there follow excellent para- 
 bles ; as that she gathereth strength in going ; that 
 she goeth upon the ground, and yet hideth her 
 head in the clouds ; that in the day-time she sitteth 
 in a watch-tower, and flyeth most by night ; that 
 she mingleth things done with things not done ; 
 and that she is a terror to great cities ; but that 
 which passeth all the rest is, they do recount that 
 the Earth, mother of the giants that made war 
 against Jupiter, and were by him destroyed, there- 
 upon in anger brought forth Fame ; for certain it 
 is, that rebels, figured by the giants and seditious 
 fames and libels, are but brothers and sisters, mas- 
 
 * Published by Dr. Rawley in his Resuscitatio. 
 
212 ESSAYS. 
 
 culine and feminine : but now if a man can tame 
 this monster, and bring her to feed at the hand and 
 govern her, and with her fly other ravening fowl, 
 and kill them, it is somewhat worth : but we are 
 infected with the style of the poets. To speak now 
 in a sad and serious manner, there is not in all the 
 politics a place less handled, and more worthy to 
 be handled, than this of fame ; we will therefore 
 speak of these points : what are false fames ; and 
 what are true fames ; and how they may be best 
 discerned ; how fames may be sown and raised ; 
 how they may be spread and multiplied ; and how 
 they may be checked and laid dead ; and other things 
 concerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that 
 force, as there is scarcely any great action wherein 
 it hath not a great part, especially in the war. 
 Mucianus undid Vitellius by a fame that he scat- 
 tered, that Vitellius had in purpose to remove the 
 legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of 
 Germany into Syria ; whereupon the legions of 
 Syria were infinitely inflamed. Julius Caesar took 
 Pompey unprovided, and laid asleep his industry 
 and preparations by a fame that he cunningly gave 
 out, how Caesar's own soldiers loved him not ; and 
 being wearied with the wars, and laden with the 
 spoils of Gaul, would forsake him as soon as he 
 came into Italy. Livia settled all things for the 
 succession of her son Tiberius, by continual giving 
 out that her husband Augustus was upon recovery 
 and amendment ; and it is an usual thing with the 
 
OF FAME. 213 
 
 bashaws, to conceal the death of the Great Turk 
 from the janizaries and men of war, to save the 
 sacking of Constantinople, and other towns, as 
 their manner is. Themistocles made Xerxes, king 
 of Persia, post apace out of Grsecia, by giving out 
 that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge 
 of ships which he had made athwart Hellespont. 
 There be a thousand such like examples, and the 
 more they are, the less they need to be repeated, 
 because a man meeteth with them every where : 
 therefore let all wise governors have as great a 
 watch and care over fames, as they have of the 
 actions and designs themselves. 
 
 [the rest was xot finished.] 
 
 II. OF A KIXG. 
 
 1. A KING is a mortal god on earth, unto 
 jlSl. whom the living God hath lent his own 
 name as a great honour ; but withal told him, he 
 should die like a man, lest he should be proud and 
 natter himself, that God hath with his name im- 
 parted unto him his nature also. 
 
 2. Of all kind of men, God is the least beholden 
 unto them; for he doth most for them, and they 
 do ordinarily least for him. 
 
 3. A king that would not feel his crown too 
 heavy for him, must wear it every day; but if he 
 
214 ESSAYS. 
 
 think it too light, he knoweth not of what metal 
 it is made. 
 
 4. He must make religion the rule of govern- 
 ment, and not to balance the scale ; for he that 
 caste th in religion only to make the scales even, 
 his own w r eight is contained in those characters, 
 " Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin, He is found too 
 light, his kingdom shall be taken from him.' , 
 
 5. And that king that holds not religion the 
 best reason cf state, is void of all piety and justice, 
 the supporters of a king. 
 
 6. He must be able to give counsel himself, 
 but not rely thereupon ; for though happy events 
 justify their counsels, yet it is better that the evil 
 event of good advice be rather imputed to a subject 
 than a sovereign. 
 
 7. He is the fountain of honour, which should 
 not run with a waste pipe, lest the courtiers sell 
 the water, and then, as papists say of their holy 
 wells, it loses the virtue. 
 
 8. He is the life of the law, not only as he is 
 " lex loquens" himself, but because he animateth 
 the dead letter, making it active towards all his 
 subjects " prsemio et poena." 
 
 9. A wise king must do less in altering* his laws 
 than he may; for new government is ever dan- 
 gerous. It being true in the body politic, as in 
 the corporal, that " omnis subita immutatio est 
 periculosa ;" and though it be for the better, yet 
 it is not without a fearful apprehension; for he 
 
OF A KING. 215 
 
 that changeth the fundamental laws of a kingdom, 
 thinketh there is no good title to a crown, but by 
 conquest. 
 
 10. A king that setteth to sale seats of justice, 
 oppresseth the people ; for he teacheth his judges 
 to sell justice ; and " pretio parata pretio venditor 
 justitia." 
 
 1 1 . Bounty and magnificence are virtues very 
 regal, but a prodigal king is nearer a tyrant than 
 a parsimonious ; for store at home draweth not his 
 contemplations abroad : but want supplieth itself 
 of what is next, and many times the next way : a 
 king herein must be wise, and know what he may 
 justly do. 
 
 12. That king which is not feared, is not loved ; 
 and he that is well seen in his craft, must as well 
 study to be feared as loved ; yet not loved for fear, 
 but feared for love. 
 
 13. Therefore, as he must always resemble Him 
 whose great name he beareth, and that as in mani- 
 festing the sweet influence of his mercy on the 
 severe stroke of his justice sometimes, so in this 
 not to suffer a man of death to live ; for besides 
 that the land doth mourn, the restraint of justice 
 towards sin doth more retard the affection of love, 
 than the extent of mercy doth inflame it : and 
 sure where love is [ill] bestowed, fear is quite lost. 
 
 14. His greatest enemies are his flatterers ; for 
 though they ever speak on his side, yet their words 
 still make against him. 
 
216 ESSAYS. 
 
 15. The love which a king oweth to a weal 
 public, should not be overstrained to any one par- 
 ticular ; yet that his more special favour do reflect 
 upon some worthy ones is somewhat necessary, 
 because there are few of that capacity. 
 
 16. He must have a special care of five things, 
 if he would not have his crown to be but to him 
 " infelix felicitas." 
 
 First, that " simulata Sanctis'' be not in the 
 church; for that is " duplex iniquitas. ,, 
 
 Secondly, that " inutilis sequitas" sit not in the 
 chancery; for that is " inepta misericordia." 
 
 Thirdly, that " utilis iniquitas" keep not the 
 exchequer: for that is " crudele latrocinium." 
 
 Fourthly, that " fidelis temeritas" be not his 
 general ; for that will bring but " seram pceni- 
 tentiam. ,, 
 
 Fifthly, that " infidelis prudentia" be not his 
 secretary ; for that is " anguis sub viridi herba." 
 
 To conclude : as he is of the greatest power, so 
 he is subject to the greatest cares, made the ser- 
 vant of his people, or else he were without a calling 
 at all. 
 
 He then that honoureth him not is next an 
 atheist, wanting the fear of God in his heart. 
 
21'; 
 
 III. AN ESSAY ON DEATH. 
 
 I HAVE often thought upon death, and I find it 
 the least of all evils. All that which is past is 
 as a dream ; and he that hopes or depends upon 
 time coming, dreams waking. So much of our life 
 as we have discovered is already dead ; and all 
 those hours which we share, even from the breasts 
 of our mother, until we return to our grand-mother, 
 the earth, are part of our dying days; whereof even 
 this is one, and those that succeed are of the same 
 nature, for we die daily ; and as others have given 
 place to us, so we must in the end give way to others. 
 Physicians, in the name of death include all sorrow, 
 anguish, disease, calamity, or whatsoever can fall 
 in the life of man, either grievous or unwelcome : 
 but these things are familiar unto us, and we suf- 
 fer them every hour ; therefore we die daily, and I 
 am older since I affirmed it. I know many wise 
 men that fear to die, for the change is bitter, and 
 flesh would refuse to prove it : besides the expec- 
 tation brings terror, and that exceeds the evil. But 
 I do not believe, that any man fears to be dead, but 
 only the stroke of death : and such are my hopes, 
 that if heaven be pleased, and nature renew but my 
 lease for twenty-one years more, without asking 
 longer days, I shall be strong enough to acknow- 
 
218 ESSAYS. 
 
 ledge without mourning- that I was begotten mortal. 
 Virtue walks not in the highway, though she go 
 per alta; this is strength and the blood to virtue, 
 to contemn things that be desired, and to neglect 
 that which is feared. 
 
 4. Why should man be in love with his fetters, 
 though of gold ? Art thou drowned in security ? 
 Then I say thou art perfectly dead. For though 
 thou movest, yet thy soul is buried within thee, and 
 thy good angel either forsakes his guard or sleeps. 
 There is nothing under heaven, saving a true friend, 
 who cannot be counted within the number of move- 
 ables, unto which my heart doth lean. And this 
 dear freedom hath begotten me this peace, that I 
 mourn not for that end which must be, nor spend 
 one wish to have one minute added to the incertain 
 date of my years. It was no mean apprehension 
 of Lucian, who says of Menippus, that in his tra- 
 vels through hell he knew not the kings of the earth 
 from other men, but only by their louder cryings 
 and tears : which was fostered in them through the 
 remorseful memory of the good days they had seen, 
 and the fruitful havings which they so unwillingly 
 left behind them : he that was well seated, looked 
 back at his portion, and was loth to forsake his farm ; 
 and others either minding marriages, pleasures, 
 profit, or preferment, desired to be excused from 
 death's banquet : they had made an appointment 
 with earth, looking at the blessings, not the hand 
 that enlarged them, forgetting how unclothedly they 
 
ON DEATH. 219 
 
 came hither, or with what naked ornaments they 
 were arrayed. 
 
 5. But were we servants of the precept given, 
 and observers of the heathens rule " memento mo- 
 ri," and not become benighted with this seeming 
 felicity, we should enjoy it as men prepared to lose 
 and not wind up our thoughts upon so perishing a 
 fortune : he that is not slackly strong, as the ser- 
 vants of pleasure, how can he be found unready to 
 quit the veil and false visage of his perfection ? The 
 soul having shaken off her flesh, doth then set up 
 for herself, and contemning things that are under, 
 shews what finger hath enforced her ; for the souls 
 of idiots are of the same piece with those of states- 
 men, but now and then nature is at a fault, and this 
 good guest of ours takes soil in an imperfect body, 
 and so is slackened from shewing her wonders ; 
 like an excellent musician, which cannot utter him- 
 self upon a defective instrument. 
 
 6. But see how I am swerved, and lose my 
 course, touching at the soul, that doth least hold 
 action with death, who hath the surest property in 
 this frail act; his stile is the end of all flesh, and 
 the beginning of incorruption. 
 
 This ruler of monuments leads men for the most 
 part out of this world with their heels forward ; in 
 token that he is contrary to life ; which being ob- 
 tained, sends men headlong into this wretched 
 theatre, where being arrived, their first language 
 is that of mourning. Nor in my own thoughts, 
 
220 ESSAYS. 
 
 can I compare men more fitly to any thing, than 
 to the Indian fig-tree, which being ripened to his 
 fall height, is said to decline his branches down to 
 the earth ; whereof she conceives again, and they 
 become roots in their own stock. 
 
 So man having derived his being from the earth, 
 first lives the life of a tree, drawing his nourishment 
 as a plant, and made ripe for death he tends down- 
 wards, and is sowed again in his mother the earth, 
 where he perisheth not, but expects a quickening. 
 
 7. So we see death exempts not a man from 
 being, but only presents an alteration ; yet there 
 are some men, I think, that stand otherwise per- 
 suaded. Death finds not a worse friend than an 
 alderman, to whose door I never knew him wel- 
 come ; but he is an importunate guest, and will 
 not be said nay. 
 
 And though they themselves shall affirm, that 
 they are not within, yet the answer will not be 
 taken ; and that which heightens their fear is, that 
 they know they are in danger to forfeit their flesh, 
 but are not wise of the payment day: which sickly 
 uncertainty is the occasion that, for the most part, 
 they step out of this world unfurnished for their 
 general account, and being all unprovided, desire 
 yet to hold their gravity, preparing their souls to 
 answer in scarlet. 
 
 Thus I gather, that death is unagreeable to most 
 citizens, because they commonly die intestate : this 
 being a rule, that when their will is made, they* 
 
ON DEATH. 221 
 
 think themselves nearer a grave than before : now 
 they out of the wisdom of thousands, think to scare 
 destiny from which there is no appeal, by not 
 making" a will, or to live longer by protestation of 
 their unwillingness to die. They are for the most 
 part well made in this world, accounting their trea- 
 sure by legions, as men do devils, their fortune 
 looks toward them, and they are willing to anchor 
 at it, and desire, if it be possible, to put the evil 
 day far off from them, and to adjourn their un- 
 grateful and killing period. 
 
 No, these are not the men which have bespoken 
 death, or whose looks are assured to entertain a 
 thought of him. 
 
 8. Death arrives gracious only to such as sit in 
 darkness, or lie heavy burned with grief and irons; 
 to the poor Christian, that sits bound in the galley; 
 to despairful widows, pensive prisoners, and de- 
 posed kings : to them whose fortune runs back, and 
 whose spirits mutiny ; unto such death is a re- 
 deemer, and the grave a place for retiredness and 
 rest. 
 
 These wait upon the shore of death, and waft 
 unto him to draw near, wishing above all others to 
 see his star, that they might be led to his place, 
 wooing the remorseless sisters to wind down the 
 watch of their life, and to break them off before the 
 hour. 
 
 9. But death is a doleful messenger to an usurer, 
 and fate ultimately cuts their thread : for it is never 
 
222 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 mentioned by him, but when rumours of war and 
 civil tumults put him in mind thereof. 
 
 And when many hands are armed, and the 
 peace of a city in disorder, and the foot of the 
 common soldiers sounds an alarm on his stairs, then 
 perhaps such a one, broken in thoughts of his mo- 
 nies abroad, and cursing the monuments of coin 
 which are in his house, can be content to think of 
 death, and, being hasty of perdition, will perhaps 
 hang himself lest his throat should be cut; pro- 
 vided that he may do it in his study, surrounded 
 with wealth, to which his eye sends a faint and 
 languishing salute, even upon the turning off; re- 
 membering always, that he have time and liberty 
 by writing, to depute himself as his own heir. 
 
 For that is a great peace to his end, and recon- 
 ciles him wonderfully upon the point. 
 
 10. Herein we all dally with ourselves, and are 
 without proof of necessity. I am not of those that 
 dare promise to pine away myself in vain glory, and 
 I hold such to be but feat boldness, and them that 
 dare commit it to be vain. Yet for my part, I think 
 nature should do me great wrong, if I should be so 
 long in dying, as I was in being born. 
 
 To speak truth, no man knows the lists of his 
 own patience ; nor can divine how able he shall be 
 in his sufferings, till the storm come ; the perfectest 
 virtue being tried in action : but I would out of a 
 care to do the best business well, ever keep a guard, 
 and stand upon keeping faith and a good conscience. 
 
ON DEATH. 223 
 
 11. And if wishes might find place, I would die 
 together, and not my mind often, and my body 
 once ; that is, I would prepare for the messengers 
 of death, sickness and affliction, and not wait long, 
 or be attempted by the violence of pain. 
 
 Herein I do not profess myself a Stoic, to hold 
 grief no evil, but opinion, and a thing indifferent. 
 
 But I consent with Caesar, that the suddenest 
 passage is easiest, and there is nothing more awakens 
 our resolve and readiness to die, than the quieted 
 conscience, strengthened with opinion that we shall 
 be well spoken of upon earth by those that are just 
 . and of the family of virtue ; the opposite whereof 
 I is a fury to man, and makes even life unsweet. 
 
 Therefore, what is more heavy than evil fame de- 
 . served? Or, likewise, who can see worse days, 
 than he that yet living doth follow at the funerals 
 of his own reputation ? 
 
 I have laid up many hopes, that I am privileged 
 from that kind of mourning, and could wish the like 
 peace to all those with whom I wage love. 
 
 12. I might say much of the commodities that 
 death can sell a man : but briefly, death is a friend 
 of ours, and he that is not ready to entertain him, 
 is not at home. Whilst I am, my ambition is not 
 to foreflow the tide ; I have but so to make my in- 
 terest of it, as I may account for it ; I would wish 
 nothing but what might better my days, nor desire 
 any greater place than the front of good opinion. 
 1 make not love to the continuance of days, but 
 
224 ESSAYS. 
 
 to the goodness of them ; nor wish to die, but refer 
 myself to my hour, which the great Dispenser of 
 all things hath appointed me ; yet as I am frail, 
 and suffered for the first fault, were it given me to 
 choose, I should not be earnest to see the evening 
 of my age ; that extremity of itself being a disease 
 and a mere return into infancy ; so that if perpe- 
 tuity of life might be given [me, I should think 
 w r hat the Greek poet said, Such an age is a mortal 
 evil. And since I must needs be dead, I require 
 it may not be done before mine enemies, that I be 
 not stript before I be cold ; but before my friends. 
 The night was even now ; but that name is lost ; 
 it is not now late, but early. Mine eyes begin to 
 discharge their watch, and compound with this 
 fleshly weakness for a time of perpetual rest; and 
 I shall presently be as happy for a few hours, as I 
 had died the first hour I was born. 
 
THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS 
 
 WRITTEN IN LATIN BY LORD BACON AND 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY 
 
 HERMAN MERIVALE 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 SEEING that without philosophy life itself would 
 be no pleasure to me, I cannot but hold you in 
 the highest honour, from whom this safeguard and 
 solace of my existence has been derived. There- 
 fore, under this name, I profess that I owe to you 
 myself and all that I have : whence it may appear 
 less strange that I should desire to remunerate you 
 with gifts of your own, that by natural movement 
 they may return thither, whence they first drew 
 their origin. And yet, I know not wherefore, there 
 appear but few Vestigia vos retrorsum spectantia, 
 while innumerable ones proceed from you. Nor, 
 as I think, shall I take too much on myself, if I 
 hope, that on account of the slight use of things 
 which our manner of life and institutions neces- 
 sarily produce, some small accession may have been 
 made to the discoveries of learned men by these 
 works of ours. Such, indeed, is my opinion, that 
 contemplations, when transferred to active life, 
 acquire no small addition of beauty and vigour: and 
 
228 DEDICATION. 
 
 that, more copious matter being* afforded them, thej 
 do perhaps take deeper root, and most certainly 
 arise more lofty and productive. Nor do you (as 
 I think) yourselves know of what wide extent youi 
 benefits are, and to how many things they apply. 
 Nevertheless it is just that all should be attributed 
 to you, since every addition is in great part to be 
 attributed to the first elements. Nor will you re- 
 quire from a man full of occupations anything- ol 
 deep research, or the wondrous effects and preroga- 
 tives of leisure ; but will attribute it to my greai 
 love towards you and yours, that among the thorns 
 of civil affairs these essays have not altogethei 
 perished, but are preserved for yourselves as youi 
 own property. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE antiquities of the first ages (except that 
 part of them which is contained in the sacred 
 writings) are involved in forgetfulness and silence. 
 The silence of early history is followed by the fa- 
 bles of the poets, and to these fables succeed the 
 authentic records which remain to us ; so that the 
 mysteries and recesses of antiquity are separated 
 and divided by a veil, as it were, of fables, from 
 the clear and manifest traditions of the following 
 ages — a veil which has interposed itself so as to 
 occupy the middle space between things perished 
 and things extant. I do indeed expect that most 
 men will be disposed to believe that I am engaged 
 in mere trifles of the imagination ; and that I as- 
 sume to myself almost as much license in reducing 
 to allegory these fables, as the original poets allowed 
 themselves in constructing them ; which I might 
 lawfully do if I listed, and thereby intermix with 
 more lofty meditations these things, which might 
 conduce to my own pleasure in reflecting, or to that 
 of others in reading. Nor do I forget how tract- 
 able the substance of a fable is, so that we may wrest, 
 or even naturally draw, it into any form; and how 
 much power, readiness of wit, and power of dis- 
 
230 PREFACE. 
 
 course may have, so that interpretations never 
 thought of by the author may be elegantly adapted 
 to his work. I cannot but consider also, how the 
 method which I now propose to myself has been 
 long ago perverted by others. For many writers, 
 wishing to attach the veneration of antiquity to 
 their own inventions and fancies, have attempted 
 to turn the fables of the poets to their own object. 
 A folly which is of old standing and frequent use ; 
 not lately invented, or seldom fallen into. For 
 Chrysippus of old, among others, like an inter- 
 preter of dreams, used to ascribe stoical opinions to 
 the earliest poets. And the chymists, with still 
 less ingenuity, transferred the fanciful tales of the 
 poets, in their transformations of bodies, to the ex- 
 periments of the furnace. All these things, I re- 
 peat, I have sedulously examined and weighed ; 
 I have noted and considered the levity and laxity 
 of men's minds in the admission of allegories ; and 
 do not on that account absolutely resign my inten- 
 tion. For, in the first place, never may it happen 
 that the weakness and licentiousness of some writers 
 should detract from the credit of parables in general : 
 for this would savour of profanity and audacity, 
 seeing that religion so much delights in these ob- 
 scure and shadowy representations, that he who 
 would reject them, almost dissolves the communion 
 between things divine and human. But let us re- 
 turn to human wisdom. I freely and willingly 
 confess that I am inclined to the opinion, that not 
 
PREFACE. 231 
 
 a few of the fables of the ancient poets contained 
 from their very origin a hidden mystery and alle- 
 gory : whether it be that I am led astray by my 
 admiration of that early age, or becar.se I find in 
 some of the fables so great a conformity with the 
 interpretation, so apt and manifest both in the tex- 
 ture of the fable itself, and in the signification of 
 the names with which the characters or actors of 
 the fable are designed and entitled : that no one 
 could consistently deny that such meaning was 
 from the beginning proposed and imagined in- 
 tentionally by the author, and shadowed forth. 
 For who can be so obstinately blind to evidence, 
 that, when he hears that after the extermination 
 of the giants, Fame was brought forth as a post- 
 humous sister to them, he does not immediately 
 apply the story to those party murmurs and sedi- 
 tious rumours which are wont to spread them- 
 selves among a people for awhile after the suppres- 
 sion of rebellions. Or when he hears that the giant 
 Typhon cut away and carried off the sinews of Ju- 
 piter, and that they were stolen from him, and 
 restored to Jupiter by Mercury : how can he but 
 perceive immediately, that this is to be referred to 
 powerful rebellions, by which the sinews of kings, 
 their revenue and authority, are cut out ; yet not 
 so but that by mildness of address and wisdom of 
 edicts, as it were by stolen means, the minds of 
 subjects w r ithin a short time are reconciled, and the 
 power of kings restored to them. Or when he hears 
 
232 PREFACE. 
 
 that in that memorable expedition of the gods against 
 the giants, the ass of Silenus became by his bray- 
 ing an instrument of great value in dispersing these 
 giants ; must he not clearly see that this was ima- 
 gined of those vast projects of rebels, which are 
 mostly dissipated by light rumours and vain con- 
 sternation ? And who is there to whom the indi- 
 cations afforded by the adaptation of names can be 
 otherwise than manifest : as firing, the consort of 
 Jupiter, implies counsel ; rvtywv, tumidness ; 7ray, 
 the universe ; vtfiecrig, revenge, and so forth. Nor 
 should it be an obstacle to any one that he may 
 sometimes find some foundation in history, or some 
 ornamental parts, added for the sake of entertain- 
 ment ; or some circumstances of one fable trans- 
 ferred to another, and made subservient to a dif- 
 ferent allegory. For this must necessarily have 
 taken place, these fables being the invention of men 
 of various ages and different customs, some of whom 
 were ancient, others more modern ; some proposed 
 to themselves the illustration of nature, others that 
 of civil society. There is also another not unim- 
 portant indication of the existence of a hidden and 
 involved sense ; namely, that some of the fables 
 are so absurd and senseless in their outward narra- 
 tion, that they seem to show their nature at first 
 sight, and cry for exposition by means of a parable. 
 A fable which is probable of itself, may be invented 
 merely for pleasure, and for an imitation of history ; 
 but that which it could have entered into no man's 
 
PREFACE. 233 
 
 head to imagine, or relate, on its own account, must 
 have been intended for other purposes. We may 
 instance such a fiction as the following: That Ju- 
 piter took Metis to wife, and as soon as he found 
 her with child, devoured her, became himself with 
 child, and brought forth the armed Pallas by way 
 of his head ? I cannot suppose that even a dream 
 so monstrous, and so out of all course of thought, 
 could have occurred to any man whatever. Above 
 all, one consideration has been of great weight and 
 importance with me : that most of the fables of 
 mythology appear by no means to have been in- 
 vented by those who relate them, such as Homer, 
 Hesiod, and the rest : for were it clearly made 
 manifest to us that they proceeded from that age, 
 and those authors by whom they are celebrated, 
 and thence transmitted to us, we should surely, I 
 conjecture, not have been induced to expect any 
 thing great or lofty from an origin such as this. 
 But he who considers the subject more attentively 
 will discover that they are related to posterity as 
 things already received and believed, not then for 
 the first time imagined and offered to mankind. 
 Moreover, from their being differently related by 
 writers nearly contemporary, it is easy to distin- 
 guish between what is common to all, and borrowed 
 from ancient tradition, and what is variously re- 
 lated, and added for the sake of ornament by the 
 several writers. And this it is which has increased 
 their estimation in my eyes, as being neither dis- 
 
234 PREFACE. 
 
 covered by the poets themselves, nor belonging to 
 their age, but a kind of sacred relics, the light 
 airs of better ages, which, passing through the 
 traditions of earlier nations, have been breathed 
 into the trumpets and pipes of the Grecians. If 
 any one continues obstinately to maintain that the 
 allegory in a fable is always a subordinate and 
 subsequently introduced part of it, and in no case 
 original and genuine, we will not press hard upon 
 him, but will forgive him that severity of judgment 
 which he affects, though of dull and leaden nature ; 
 and will address ourselves to him, if he be worthy 
 of our attention, after another fashion, and on a 
 new score. Two distinct uses of parables have been 
 invented and generally employed among mankind ; 
 and, which is more singular, uses contrary to each 
 other. Parables are applied by way of envelop- 
 ment and obscurity ; they are applied also by way 
 of exposition and illustration. And having set aside 
 the former use (in order not to undertake a dispute 
 upon it), and having admitted that our ancient fa- 
 bles are trifles, composed simply for amusement, 
 the second use still remains unquestioned, nor will 
 any subtilty of wit violently wrest us, nor any 
 authority whatsoever, that is but of middling ac- 
 count, prevent us from receiving it without hesita- 
 tion, as a serious and important study, not only of 
 first-rate utility, but of absolute necessity to sci- 
 ence ; this method, namely, of seeking an easier 
 and kindlier access to the human intellect, by means 
 
PREFACE. 23) 
 
 of these fables, in cases of new inventions, and ab- 
 struse doctrines, which are far removed from the 
 opinions received among the vulgar. Therefore in 
 ancient times, when the discoveries of human rea- 
 son, and philosophical conclusions, even such as 
 are now trite and universally known, were yet new 
 and unaccustomed, all sciences were full of fables, 
 enigmas, parables, and similitudes, which were 
 employed for a method of teaching knowledge not 
 artificially, involving it in obscurity : the minds of 
 men being at that time untrained, and impatient of 
 all subtleties which passed the perception of their 
 senses, and almost incapable of receiving them. 
 For as hieroglyphics preceded letters, so did para- 
 bles philosophical reasoning. And even in this 
 day, if one wish to throw a new light into the minds 
 of men on any subject, and that without harshness 
 and difficulty, he must follow nearly the same road, 
 and betake himself to the assistance of similitudes. 
 Therefore, to put a conclusion to what we have 
 already said : the wisdom of the first ages was 
 either great, or peculiarly fortunate. Great, if the 
 metaphor or analogy was purposely laboured out : 
 fortunate, if men who had their views on other 
 subjects have afforded matter and opportunity to 
 such lofty contemplations. Our own labour, if 
 any part of it chance to have useful results, we 
 shall think not ill laid out on either supposition. 
 Either we shall throw light on antiquity, or on the 
 subjects themselves. Nor can I but be aware that 
 
236 PREFACE. 
 
 the same thing has been endeavoured by others ; 
 yet, if I may express what I feel, and that with 
 freedom, and not with fastidious criticism, the 
 beauty and value of the study has been almost to- 
 tally effaced in works like these, although great 
 and laborious in execution ; men unskilled in human 
 affairs, and with no learning beyond certain com- 
 mon-places of science, having applied the signifi- 
 cation of these parables to some popular and general 
 topics, without ever reaching their true force, their 
 original adaptation, or the more recondite exami- 
 nation of them. We, on the other hand, shall be 
 (unless I deceive myself) new on common subjects, 
 and leaving behind us all that is clear and open to 
 the view, shall address ourselves to higher and richer 
 fields of interpretation. 
 
THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 I. CASSANDRA, OR FREESPOKENNESS. 
 
 THEY relate that Cassandra was beloved by 
 Apollo ; and that she eluded his desires by 
 various artifices, still continuing- to nourish his 
 hopes, until she had extorted from him the gift of 
 divination : and that when once she had acquired 
 that which had from the beginning* been the object 
 of her dissimulation, she openly rejected his ad- 
 dresses. He, being by necessity unable to recall 
 the benefit which he had rashly conferred, and de- 
 termined not to abide the insult of a crafty woman, 
 added this penalty to his present : that she should 
 continue to predict infallible truth, but that no one 
 should give credit to her words. Thus her pro- 
 phecies retained their veracity, but lost all belief 
 among men ; as she perpetually experienced even 
 in the ruin of her country, of which she had fre- 
 quently given warning, unattended to, and believed 
 by no man. 
 
 The fable appears to be invented with relation to 
 inopportune and useless freedom in giving counsel. 
 For those who are of a rough and pertinacious spi- 
 rit, and refuse to submit themselves to Apollo, that 
 
238 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 is, to the god of harmony, and so to learn the times 
 and measure of thing's; the various tones, acute and 
 grave, as it were, of words ; the discrepancies be- 
 tween the more subtle and less distinguishing case ; 
 and, finally, the proper seasons for speaking and 
 for being silent : although they be wise and liberal 
 men, and authors of wholesome and good counsels, 
 yet scarcely ever profit anything by their impetuo- 
 sity and violence of persuasion, and are of little use 
 in the conduct of affairs : but rather hurry on the 
 destruction of those among* whom they fix them- 
 selves, and are celebrated not until after the event, 
 as prophets and men gifted with foresight. There 
 is an eminent example of this in the life of Marcus 
 Cato Uticensis, who saw long beforehand, as if 
 standing on an elevated point, the future ruin of 
 his country, first from conspiracy, then from the 
 contentions which followed between Csesar and 
 Pompey, and did most oracularly predict it; but 
 advantaged the state in nothing in the mean time, 
 or rather was in its way, and accelerated its down- 
 fall. This was wisely observed and elegantly de- 
 scribed by Cicero, who wrote thus to his friend : 
 " Cato holds excellent opinions, but does sometimes 
 mischief to the republic ; for he speaks as though 
 he were in the republic of Plato, not among the 
 dregs of Romulus." 
 
239 
 
 II. TYPHON, OR THE REBEL. 
 
 THE poets narrate that Juno, indignant that 
 Jupiter had brought forth Pallas of himself, 
 without her, wearied all the gods and goddesses 
 with praying that she too might produce a child 
 without Jupiter. That when they had at length 
 consented, through the violence of her importuni 
 ties, she caused an earthquake ; from which dis- 
 turbance Typhon arose, a vast and hideous mon- 
 ster. He was given to a serpent for nurse, that 
 he might receive nourishment from it; and he had 
 no sooner attained the age of manhood than he 
 excited a war against Jupiter. In this tumult Ju- 
 piter fell into the hands of the giant, who carried 
 him on his shoulders into a distant and shadowy 
 region, where he cut out the sinews of his hands 
 and feet, and, carrying them off with him, left the 
 god lame and mutilated. Mercury, however, stole 
 back the sinews from Typhon, and brought them 
 to Jupiter ; who, being restored to strength, at- 
 tacked the monster, and first wounded him with a 
 thunderbolt, from the blood of which first ser- 
 pents were born. Finally, in his flight and confu- 
 sion, Jupiter hurled iEtna at him, and pressed him 
 down with the mass of the mountain. 
 
 The fable is invented of the varying fortune of 
 
240 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 kings, and the rebellions which are wont to arise 
 from time to time in monarchies. For kings are 
 rightly understood to be united to their kingdoms, 
 as Jupiter to Juno by the yoke of matrimony : but 
 it sometimes happens that through the depravation 
 incident on long habit of reigning, they incline to 
 tyranny, and in contempt of the assistance of the 
 orders and the senate, bring forth of themselves : 
 that is, administer empire by their own will and ab- 
 solute power. This the people bear ill, and exert 
 themselves to create some head of affairs from 
 their body, and raise it to preeminence. This is 
 effected at first by secret solicitation of the nobles 
 and chieftains, after whose connivance a rising of 
 the people is at length excited ; from which a tumid 
 state of things., (signified by the infancy of Typhon) 
 takes place. This condition of the kingdom is nou- 
 rished by the natural depravity and malignity of 
 the people (that serpent which is most hostile to 
 kings). Sedition being now increased in strength, 
 the troubles break out at length into open rebellion : 
 which inflicts infinite evils on kings and people, and 
 is therefore represented under that hideous image 
 of Typhon, in which the hundred heads represent 
 the divided powers ; the burning countenance, the 
 devastations by fire ; the belt of snakes, the pesti- 
 lential diseases (which particularly ensue on sieges) ; 
 the iron hands, the massacres ; the eagle's talons, 
 the plundering; the body covered with feathers, the 
 variable rumours, reports, fears, and so forth. And 
 
TYPHON, OR THE REBEL. 241 
 
 sometimes these rebellions acquire so great force, 
 that the kings are forcibly carried away, as it were, 
 by the rebels, compelled to leave their seat of em- 
 pire and chief cities, contract their force, and with- 
 draw themselves into some obscure province of their 
 realm, the sinews of their revenue and majesty being 
 cut away : yet, bearing with wisdom their evil for- 
 tune, they soon recover their sinews through the 
 fidelity and prudence of Mercury ; that is, become 
 mild and temperate, and using prudent edicts and 
 lenient addresses, effect a reconciliation with the 
 spirits and good will of their subjects, and excite 
 their alacrity in contributing towards the expenses 
 of 4he monarch and the increased vigour of his go- 
 vernment. Nevertheless the kings, become cau- 
 tious and experienced, refuse for the most part to 
 try the chance of fortune, and abstain from battle, 
 studying in the meanwhile how to overthrow the 
 reputation of the rebels by some notable action. 
 If this succeeds to their wish, the rebels, conscious 
 of the wound they have received, and trembling for 
 their power, first issue vain and broken threats, like 
 the hisses of serpents, then, despairing of success, 
 betake themselves to flight. And then, at last, 
 when their ruin is begun, it is safe and seasonable 
 for kings, armed with all their forces, and all the 
 mass of their kingdom, as with the weight of Mount 
 iEtna, to pursue and overwhelm them. 
 
242 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 III. THE CYCLOPES, OR MINISTERS^ OF 
 TERROR. 
 
 THE Cyclopes are said to have been first thrust 
 down into Tartarus for their cruelty and fe- 
 rocity, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment 
 by Jupiter : but that afterwards Tellus (the Earth) 
 persuaded him, that he might find it not unprofit- 
 able to free them from their chains, and make use 
 of their powers for the fabrication of his thunder- 
 bolts. Which being done, they set about forging 
 the thunderbolts, and other instruments of terror, 
 with zeal and industry, in constant labour and in- 
 cessant noise. In the course of time it came to 
 pass that Jupiter became wroth with iEsculapius, 
 the son of Apollo, for resuscitating a dead man by 
 art of medicine : but concealing his anger (as there 
 was little just cause of indignation in an act so 
 notable and benevolent), he secretly instigated the 
 Cyclopes to attack him ; and they without delay 
 slew him with their thunderbolt. In revenge of 
 which action, Apollo, without being opposed of Ju- 
 piter, put them to death with his arrows. 
 
 The fable is to be interpreted of the actions of 
 princes. These are wont at first to remove from 
 authority fierce and sanguinary officers, and op- 
 pression, and inflict punishments on them. After- 
 
THE CYCLOPES, OR MINISTERS OF TERROR. 243 
 
 wards, counselled by Earth, (that is, by ignoble and 
 dishonourable counsel) the hope of advantage pre- 
 vailing, they again employ them where they have 
 need of severe executions or oppressive extortions. 
 Fierce as they are by nature, and still exasperated 
 by their former treatment, and w r ell knowing what 
 is expected of them, they shew wonderful diligence 
 in affairs of this kind ; but being incautious, and 
 too precipitately bent upon seeking and obtaining 
 favour, they, at length, are incited by secret hints 
 and obscure mandates of their princes to perform 
 some unpopular act of severity. The princes avoid- 
 ing the odium of the crime, and being well aware 
 that there will never be a scarcity of such instru- 
 ments, desert their adherents, and turn them over 
 to the relations and friends of those w^ho have suf- 
 fered, leaving them to their insults and hate, and 
 the vengeance of the people : until with the ap- 
 plause of all, and among the wishes and acclama- 
 tions of the populace for their sovereign, they pe- 
 rish by a fate rather late than undeserved. 
 
 IV. NARCISSUS, OR SELF-LOVE. 
 
 NARCISSUS is said to have possessed ad- 
 mirable beauty of countenance and figure, 
 but coupled with great pride and intolerable affec- 
 tation. Being pleased only w r ith himself and con- 
 
244 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 temning others, he led a solitary life among woods 
 and in the chace, at the head of a few companions, 
 to whom he was himself everything. He was fol- 
 lowed too everywhere by the nymph Echo. Living 
 in this manner, his fate one day led him to arrive 
 at a limpid fountain, and to lay down to rest by the 
 side of it in the heat of mid-day. But as soon as 
 he had beheld his own image in the water, first 
 indulging in the vision, and at length entirely ab- 
 sorbed and rapt in admiration of himself, he could 
 by no means whatever be dragged from this spec- 
 tacle ; but languished in fixed contemplation, and 
 was <at length changed into a flower bearing his 
 own name, which appears early in the spring, and 
 is sacred to the infernal gods, Pluto. Proserpine, 
 and the Furies. 
 
 The fable seems to represent the character and 
 fortune of those, w T ho, whether on account of their 
 personal beauty, or of other possessions, with which 
 nature alone, unaided by their proper industry, has 
 decked and signalized them, fall desperately in 
 love with themselves, and as it were languish 
 away in self-love. For such a state of mind is 
 usually found united with a reluctance to mix with 
 the public, or to be engaged in business, because, 
 by so occupying themselves, they must necessarily 
 subject themselves to slights and disesteem among 
 men, which would deject and disturb the tranquil- 
 lity of their minds. Thus they generally lead a 
 solitary, private, and obscure life, with a small 
 
NARCISSUS, OR SELF-LOVE. 245 
 
 company of friends, composed of such as appear 
 peculiarly to honour and admire them, and assent 
 to all their remarks with the voice of echo ; and 
 pay them all manner of homage in their words. 
 Depraved and inflated by continuance in this con- 
 dition, and at length stupified by constant admira- 
 tion of themselves, they fall so entirely under the 
 influence of a strange indolence and listlessness, 
 that they fall into utter torpor, and become de- 
 prived of all vigour and alacrity of mind. The 
 spring flower is an elegant emblem of such spirits 
 as these, spirits which flourish and are admired in 
 their early season, but disappoint and frustrate the 
 hopes conceived of them, when they arrive at full 
 age. With the same meaning, it is said that this 
 flower is sacred to the infernal gods, because men 
 of this stamp are entirely useless for every pur- 
 pose. Moreover, whatever produces no fruit of 
 itself, but passes and vanishes away like the path 
 of a ship on the ocean, was by the ancients usually 
 consecrated to the shades and infernal o:ods. 
 
 V. STYX, OR TREATIES. 
 
 THIS is a very common history, which is in- 
 troduced into many fables, concerning that 
 one oath by which the infernal gods were wont to 
 bind themselves, when they wished to have no 
 
246 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 room whatever left for repentance. This oath in- 
 voked and called to witness no celestial majesty, 
 no attribute of the divinity, but Styx, a certain 
 river of the infernal regions, which was said to 
 surround the palace of Dis, with many intricate 
 winding's. This form of oath alone and no other 
 (besides it) was held to be sacred and inviolable : 
 for the punishment imposed on the violators of it 
 was one chiefly dreaded by the gods, namely, that 
 he who had failed in his oath should not approach 
 the banquets of the gods for a certain interval of 
 years. 
 
 This fable appears to have been invented of the 
 treaties and compacts of princes; among" whom it 
 is far too true, that treaties, by whatever solemnity 
 and sacred observance they may be fortified, are 
 of little durability, even so as to be generally en- 
 tered into merely for the sake of reputation and 
 fair appearances, and for ceremony rather than for 
 truth and effective security. Even if the ties of 
 relationship happen to be added, those sanctions 
 as it were of nature, yet among most it is found 
 that everything is postponed to ambition, and the 
 hope of advantage, and the license of supreme do- 
 minion : so much the more so, because it is easy 
 for princes to disguise and defend by various and 
 specious pretexts, their cupidity and insincerity, 
 there being no controller above them, to whom 
 account must be rendered. Therefore there is only 
 one received, true, and real security for good faith, 
 
STYX, OR TREATIES. 247 
 
 and that no celestial divinity : this is necessity, a 
 great god among' the powerful, and public danger, 
 and community of advantage. Necessity is ele- 
 gantly represented by Styx, that fatal and irreme- 
 able river. This was the godhead invoked by Iphi- 
 crates, whose sentiments, since he was bold enough 
 openly to say what most resolve silently in their 
 minds, it may not be amiss to relate in his own 
 words. He, observing that the Lacedaemonians 
 were imagining to propose various cautions and 
 sanctions, and securities and bonds of treaty, in- 
 terrupting them, said, " There can be one only 
 sanction and ground of security between us and 
 you, O Lacedaemonians ; namely, your plainly de- 
 monstrating to us, that you have made such con- 
 cessions, and given such securities, that your power 
 would not suffice to injure us if your will were ever 
 so great towards it." Thus, if the power of doing- 
 injury be taken away, or if, upon violation of the 
 treaty, danger of dissolution, or diminution, or of 
 loss to the revenue ensues to the violator, then only 
 are treaties to be accounted sacred, and confirmed 
 by an oath similar to that of Styx : the fear being 
 at hand of that interdict and suspension from the 
 banquets of the gods : under which name the rights 
 and prerogatives of dominion, and riches, and feli- 
 city, were expressed by the ancients. 
 
248 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 VI. PAN, OR NATURE. 
 
 THE ancients were industrious to describe the 
 universal nature under the person of Pan. 
 His origin they left douhtful. Some assert that 
 he was sprung from Mercury; others give him an 
 entirely different- birth, for they affirm that all the. 
 suitors of Penelope were connected with her, and 
 that from this promiscuous connexion Pan, their 
 common son, was born. And in this late invented 
 relation, without doubt, some of the more modern 
 authors introduced the name of Penelope into an 
 ancient fable, as they frequently do when they 
 transfer older histories to later names and charac- 
 ters, and that sometimes in an absurd and inele- 
 gant manner, as may be seen in this instance, since . 
 Pan was one of the most ancient deities, and far 
 earlier than the time of Ulysses, and Penelope was 
 peculiarly venerated by antiquity for her matronly 
 chastity. Nor must we pass over the third explana- 
 tion of his origin:. for some have published thathe 
 was the son of Jupiter and Hybris, that is, insolence. 
 But however he was born, the Fates are said to have 
 been his sisters. The image of Pan is thus des- 
 cribed by the ancients : he is horned, with his horns 
 pointed even up to Heaven, rough and hairy over 
 his whole body, and with a long flowing beard : 
 
PAN, OR NATURE. 249 
 
 his figure is double, human in the upper part, but 
 half bestial, and ending in the feet of a goat. He 
 bore the ensigns of power, in his left hand the pipe 
 composed of seven reeds ; in his right the crook, 
 or piece of wood curved and bent in at the top, and 
 was clothed in a cloak of leopard's skin. The fol- 
 lowing powers and offices are attributed to him : 
 he is the god of huntsmen, shepherds, and coun- 
 trymen in general ; the presiding genius of moun- 
 tains, and, next to Mercury, the messenger of the 
 gods. He was also held to be the leader and com- 
 mander of the nymphs, who were wont perpetually 
 to form their dances and revels around him, accom- 
 panied by trie Satyrs, and the older Sileni. He 
 had also the power of inflicting terrors, especially 
 empty and superstitious ones, which' are called from 
 him panic. The actions recounted of him are not 
 many ; the chief, that he challenged Cupid in wrest- 
 ling, jand was by him overthrown in the contest. 
 He also caught and held down the giant Typhon 
 in a net; and it is said, moreover, that when Ceres 
 had hid herself through grief and indignation for 
 the loss of Proserpine, and all the gods had dili- 
 gently applied themselves to the search of her, and 
 separated themselves Various ways, Pan alone had, 
 by accident; the fortune to find her in hunting, and 
 indicate her to the rest. He dared also to contend 
 with Apollo for the prize of music, and was pre- 
 ferred above him by the judge Midas : for which 
 judgment Midas bore asses' ears, but kept them 
 
250 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 secret and under cover. There are no amours of 
 Pan related, or at least very few, which seems a 
 very singular circumstance, among" a crowd of gods 
 so profusely amorous. It is only said of him, that 
 he loved the nymph Echo, who was also held as 
 his wife : and was inflamed also for a nymph by 
 name Syringa, to whose love he was impelled by 
 the anger and revenge of Cupid, whom he had 
 challenged to wrestle. Nor did he beget any off- 
 spring (which is equally singular, since the gods, 
 and especially the male ones, had abundance of 
 children) except that a certain maid woman, called 
 Iambe, is given him for a daughter, who was wont 
 to entertain her guests with ludicrous stories ; and 
 is thought by some to have been his child by his 
 wife Echo. This is a noble fable, if any of them 
 be so; weighty and as it were distended with the 
 arcana and mysteries of nature. 
 
 Pan (as his very name already intimates) repre- 
 sents and expresses the universe of nature. Of 
 his origin there are two totally different opinions ; 
 and so it may be : either he comes from Mercury, 
 that is, the divine Word, (w T hich not only the sa- 
 cred Scriptures place beyond all controversy, but 
 w r hich was also the opinion of those philosophers 
 who were held most divine) or from the confused 
 seeds of things. For those who have maintained a 
 sing*le principle of things, either have referred it to 
 God, or if they have upheld a material princi- 
 ple, have represented it as possessing a divided 
 
PAX, OR NATURE. 251 
 
 power : so that all controversy of this nature may 
 be referred to this division, that the universe is 
 sprung- either from Mercury or from all the suitors. 
 
 Namque canebat, uti magnum per inane coacta 
 Semina terrarumque animaeque marisque fuissent, 
 Et liquidi simul ignis ; et his exordia primis 
 Omnia, et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis. 
 
 The third origin of Pan is of such a nature that 
 the Greeks must be thought to have imbibed some- 
 whatof the mysteries of the Hebrews, either through 
 the Egyptians, or by some other passage ; for it re- 
 lates to the state of the world, not in its mere birth, 
 but in its condition after the fall of Adam, when 
 become subject and exposed to death and corrup- 
 tion. For that state was and is the offspring of 
 God and sin. Thus all these three relations of the 
 generation of Pan may be considered true, if they 
 be rightly distinguished in matter and according 
 to time : for this Pan, who is before our eyes, 
 and whom we worship far more than we ought to. 
 do, hath his origin from the word of God, through 
 the medium of confused matter, and subsequently 
 influenced by depravation and corruption. To the 
 nature of things the fates of things are with justice 
 accounted and denominated sisters ; since the chains 
 of natural causes draw with them the birth of things, 
 their duration, their death, their depressions, 
 their elevations, their labours, their fortunes, and 
 all the fates which can influence things. The 
 world is provided with horns, because horns of this 
 
252 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 kind are broad at bottom and taper to the top. For 
 the entire nature of things is taper like a pyramid. 
 The individuals are infinite : these are collected into 
 species, which are multiplex and numerous. The 
 species again rise into genera, and these by a fur- 
 ther ascent are contracted into still higher genera, 
 so that nature seems to meet as into one point. 
 No wonder that the horns of Pan should strike 
 heaven ; seeing that the summits of nature, or 
 universal ideas, reach in a certain manner even to 
 heaven. For the transit is easy and short from 
 metaphysics to natural theology. Moreover, the 
 body of nature is with great elegance and truth 
 depicted hairy, on account of the rays of things : 
 for the rays are as it were the hairs or bristles of 
 nature ; and almost all things do, more or less, 
 emit rays, as is most evident from the faculty of 
 sight, and not less so from every influence and 
 operation which creates effects at a distance, for 
 everything which operates at a distance may be 
 rightly said to emit rays ; but the beard of Pan is 
 prominent beyond all, because the rays of celestial 
 bodies operate and penetrate from the greatest 
 distance. And the sun, too, at such time as a 
 cloud conceals his upper part, while the rays break 
 out from below, appears to the sight bearded. 
 Also, the body of nature is most rightly described 
 as biform, on account of the difference of superior 
 and inferior bodies. The former on account of 
 their beauty, the equability, and constancy of their 
 
PAN, OR NATURE. 253 
 
 motion, as well as for their dominion over the earth 
 and things of the earth, deserve to be represented 
 under the human form : the latter for their irre- 
 gularities and unharmonious motions, and because 
 they are governed by the celestial, may be content 
 with the figure of a brute animal. The same de- 
 scription of his body relates also to the participa- 
 tion of species. For no nature can be considered 
 simple, but as it were a composition partaking of 
 two principles. Thus the man has something of 
 the brute, the brute of the plant, the plant of the 
 inanimate (unorganized) body, and all things are 
 in fact biform, and composed of an inferior and 
 superior species. The allegory of the feet of the 
 goat is a most acute one, on account of the ascend- 
 ing motion of terrestrial bodies towards the regions 
 of the air and heavens : for the goat is a climbing 
 animal, and loves to hang from rocks and haunt 
 among the precipices, as substances although des- 
 tined for the inferior globe do in a strange manner, 
 as is most evident in clouds and meteors. The 
 insignia in the hands of Pan are two-fold, the one 
 of harmony, the other of empire. The pipe of 
 seven reeds evidently shews the concert and har- 
 mony of things, or that concord mixed with dis- 
 cord which is effected by the motion of the seven 
 wandering stars. The crook is a noble metaphor, 
 by reason of the ways of nature, which are partly 
 straight and partly oblique. Especially, the stick 
 or rod is crooked in its upper part, because the 
 
254 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 works of Divine Providence in the world are for 
 the most part carried on by inflexions and am- 
 bages ; so that one thing appears to be doing-, while 
 another is, in fact, done ; as the selling of Joseph 
 into Egypt, and such like events. Moreover, in 
 every well conducted human government those who 
 sit at the helm more happily bring to pass and in- 
 sinuate the measures of popular convenience which 
 they wish to carry into effect by means of assigned 
 reasons, and oblique ways, than by direct introduc- 
 tion, so that every rod or sceptre of empire is, in 
 fact, crooked at the top. The vest or cloak of Pan 
 is very ingeniously represented to have been of 
 leopard's skin, on account of the spots which are 
 scattered over it : for the heaven is studded with 
 stars, the seas with islands, the earth with flowers, 
 and even individual objects are for the most part 
 varied on the superfices, which is, as it were, the 
 vest of things. The office of Pan could not be so 
 lively represented and explained by any other means, 
 as by naming him the god of huntsmen; since 
 every natural action, motion, and progress is no- 
 thing more than a chase. Thus the sciences and 
 arts hunt after their objects, the counsels of men 
 after their ends, and all natural things hunt either 
 after their nourishment for prey or their pleasures 
 for indulgence, and that with cunning and sagacity. 
 
 Torva leaena lupum sequitur; lupus ipse capellam ; 
 Florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella. 
 
 Pan is also the god of countrymen in general, 
 
PAN, OR NATURE. 255 
 
 because such men live more according to Nature, 
 which is corrupted by excess of civilization in cities 
 and palaces, to that point that the love verse of the 
 poet becomes true : 
 
 Pars minima est ipsa puella sui. 
 
 Pan is especially the presider over mountains, 
 because in mountains and lofty places the nature 
 of things is expanded and more effectually subjected 
 to the vision and imagination. That Pan is the 
 second messenger of the gods after Mercury, is 
 plainly a divine allegory; since, next to the word 
 of God, the image of the universe itself is the 
 masterpiece of divine wisdom. As the celestial 
 poet hath sung, The heavens declare the glory of 
 God, and the firmament sheweth his handiwork. 
 — Pan delights himself in the nymphs ; that is 
 in souls, for the souls of the living are the beauty 
 of the world : and he is with justice called their 
 governor, as they follow each its own nature as a 
 guide, and dance and lead their revels around it 
 with unceasing motion, infinite variety, each as it 
 were after the manner of its own country. Toge- 
 ther with them the Satyrs and Sileni perpetually 
 accompany him ; age, namely, and youth : for to 
 all things there is one age, as it were, cheerful and 
 active ; another, slow and gluttonous : and the 
 studies equally of both ages, to one who truly con- 
 templates them with the spirit of Democritus, will 
 appear ridiculous and deformed, like a Satyr or 
 
256 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Silenus. In panic terrors, a most wise doctrine is 
 expounded. For fear and dread is instilled by the 
 nature of the universe into all living things, as a 
 preservation power to preserve their life and exist- 
 ence, and to avoid and drive off coming evils : but 
 this same nature preserves no just measures, but 
 ever mixes with salutary fears, vain and empty ones, 
 so that all things, could we but see their internal 
 reality, are full of panic terrors; especially human 
 things, which labour under the infinite weight of 
 superstition (which is, in truth, nothing but a panic 
 terror), especially in difficult times of adversity. 
 What is narrated of the boldness of Pan, and his 
 battle by challenge with Cupid, relates to this : 
 that matter is not destitute of a certain propensity 
 and appetite towards the dissolving of the universe 
 and its falling back into the ancient chaos, were 
 it not that by the overpowering concord of things, 
 (signified by Love or Cupid) its malice and violence 
 are restrained and compelled to order ; therefore 
 it is by a happy destiny of man and of things, that 
 Pan finds the issue of the contest adverse and de- 
 parts conquered. To this too belongs the story of 
 the catching Typhon in a net ; because by various 
 means there occur diverse swellings of things (as 
 is signified by the name Typhon), whether of the 
 seas or clouds, or other things, but Nature with an 
 irresistible net implicates and subdues these exu- 
 berances and perversities of matter, and binds it as 
 with adamantine fetters. That the discovery of 
 
PAN, OR NATURE. 257 
 
 Ceres is attributed to this god, and that in hunting*, 
 and is refused to the other gods, although seeking 
 her earnestly, and employed on that very pursuit, 
 contains a true and prudent admonition, that the 
 invention of things useful for life and cultivation 
 is not to be sought for from abstract philosophers 
 as it were from the Di Majores, although they em- 
 ploy all their faculties upon it; but only from Pan, 
 that is, from sagacious experience and universal 
 knowledge of the things of the world, which usu- 
 ally hits upon such inventions by chance, and, as 
 it were, when employed in hunting. But the con- 
 test of music, and its decision, shew a useful doc- 
 trine, and one which may serve to throw fetters on 
 the pride and insolence of human judgment and 
 reason. For there appeareth to be a double har- 
 mony, or music ; the one of Divine Providence, the 
 other of human reason. To human judgment, and, 
 as it were, to the ears of men, the administration of 
 the world and its events have a harsh and some- 
 what dissonant sound ; an ignorance which is aptly 
 designed by asses' ears, which are nevertheless 
 borne in private and not openly. For the absur- 
 dity of such judgment is not beheld or remarked 
 by the vulgar. Lastly, it is not to be wondered 
 that no love save that of Echo is attributed to Pan : 
 for the universe enjoys itself, and in itself every- 
 thing, and he who loves wishes to enjoy, nor is 
 there room for desire in the midst of abundance. 
 Therefore there can be no loves of the universe, nor 
 s 
 
258 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 desire of enjoyment, since itself sufficeth itself, ex- 
 cept perhaps of words ; these are the nymph Echo, 
 or, if more accurate, Syringa. Among words or 
 languages, Echo alone is elegantly taien for the 
 marriage of the universe ; for that alone is true 
 philosophy which repeats the words of the universe 
 itself with the utmost fidelity, and is written, as it 
 were, by dictation of the universe, nor is anything 
 else but its image and reflection, nor adds anything 
 of its own, but repeats and iterates only. It is 
 essential also to the self-sufficiency and perfection 
 of the universe, that it hath no offspring. For it 
 does mutually generate in its parts ; but how can 
 it generate in the whole, since without it there is 
 no body ? For concerning his supposed daughter, 
 the handmaiden, that is truly a wise addition to 
 the fable; for by her are represented those vain 
 and wordy doctrines concerning the nature of things 
 which are everywhere scattered at all times, which 
 in reality are fruitless, in kind changelings, but by 
 their variety sometimes pleasant, at other times 
 troublesome and unseasonable. 
 
259 
 
 VII. PERSEUS, OR WAR. 
 
 PERSEUS is said to have been sent by Pallas 
 to slay Medusa, who caused great calamity to 
 many nations of the west in the extremities of Hi- 
 beria. For this monster was so dreadful and ter- 
 rific that by its mere aspect it turned men into 
 stone. This Medusa was the only mortal among 
 the Gorgons ; the others, who were passive, were 
 not so. Perseus, accoutring himself for so noble 
 an adventure, received accordingly arms and gifts 
 from three gods : the wings, called talares, from 
 Mercury; from Pluto, a helmet; from Pallas -a 
 shield and a mirror. However, although armed 
 with such an equipment, he did not direct himself 
 straightway to Medusa, but first turned off to the 
 Grsese. These were sisters to the Gorgons by the 
 mother's side. These Grseae were hoary and an- 
 cient in appearance from their birth. They pos- 
 sessed in common between them only one eye and 
 tooth, which each as it happened to her to go from 
 home, carried out with her, and restored again on 
 her return. This eye and tooth they lent to Per- 
 seus. Then, at length, thinking himself fully 
 equipped to perform his destined task, he hastened 
 with rapid flight to Medusa. Her he attacked 
 sleeping ; for he did not dare to hazard the expo- 
 
260 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 sure of himself to her countenance, in case she 
 should wake, but turning back his head, guided 
 his stroke by the reflection from the mirror of Pal- 
 las, he cut off her head. From the pouring forth 
 of the blood of Medusa, a winged Pegasus imme- 
 diately sprung forth. Her severed head was in- 
 serted by Perseus into the shield given him by 
 Pallas, its virtue still adhering to -it; so that all 
 men, as if thunder- or planet-struck, stiffened into 
 stone at its aspect. 
 
 This fable appears to have been invented of the 
 science and policy of war. And it proposes at the 
 first deliberation concerning the undertaking of 
 war, and the manner of carrying it on which is to 
 be chosen, three wholesome and weighty precepts, 
 worthy as it were of the counsel of Pallas. First, 
 that no one should exert himself too strenuously 
 for the subjugation of neighbouring nations. For 
 the same rule does not apply to the increasing of 
 patrimony and that of dominion. For in private 
 possessions contiguity of estates is esteemed; but 
 in the extension of empire, opportunity, and like- 
 lihood of success in war, and profit resulting there- 
 from, should stand in the place of contiguity. Thus 
 the Romans, at a time when they had scarcely 
 penetrated further than Liguria into the west, had 
 embraced in their conquests and empire the pro- 
 vinces of the east even to Mount Taurus. Thus 
 Perseus, although an inhabitant of the east, did 
 not refuse to undertake a distant expedition even 
 
PERSEUS, OR WAR. 261 
 
 to the extremity of the west. In the second, care 
 should be taken that there be just and honourable 
 cause of war. For this adds zeal both to the sol- 
 diers and to the people, who bear the weight of the 
 expense ; opens and conciliates alliances, and has 
 many other conveniences. Nor can there be any 
 more righteous cause of war than the overthrow of 
 a tyrant, under whom his people lies prostrate 
 and oppressed without spirit or vigour, as under 
 the aspect of Medusa. Thirdly, it is wisely added, 
 that, although there were three Gorgons (which 
 represent wars), Perseus prudently chose the mor- 
 tal one ; that is, a war of such a nature as might 
 be carried through and brought to a certain end ; 
 and did not follow after vague and indefinite hopes 
 of conquest. The equipment of Perseus is that 
 which alone prepares for war, and by which for- 
 tune is almost compelled. He received swiftness 
 from Mercury, secrecy of counsel from Arcus, and 
 foresight from Pallas. Nor is it without an alle- 
 gory, and that a most prudent one, that those wings 
 of swiftness were attached to the heels and not to 
 the shoulders ; because swiftness is not so much 
 required in the first undertakings of war, as in those 
 which follow and support them. For there is no 
 error more frequently committed in warfare than 
 that of not following up, and reinforcing the means 
 of war with the vigour with which it was first en- 
 tered into. The division of foresight also (for the 
 allegory of the helmet of Pluto, which rendered 
 
262 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 men invisible, is a manifest one) into a shield and 
 mirror is ingeniously contrived : for it is not only 
 that foresight which guards like a shield, but the 
 other part of it, which consists in watching the 
 forces, motions, and counsels of the adversary (re- 
 presented by the mirror of Pallas) which is to be 
 employed. 
 
 But when Perseus is thus prepared to the fullest 
 extent with forces and arms, there is one point 
 remaining, of the first importance, before he com- 
 mence his operations, namely to resort to the Graeae. 
 The Graeae represent intrigues. These are the 
 sisters of wars, not of the same blood, but, as it 
 were, of inferior nobility. For war is honourable, 
 intrigue base and infamous. The description of 
 them is elegant ; that they are hoary and of an- 
 cient appearance from their youth upwards, on ac- 
 count of the perpetual cares and fears of traitors. 
 And their force (before they burst out into open 
 insurrection) lies either in the eye or in the tooth. 
 For every faction or party becomes adverse to the 
 government in any state, both spies and bites or 
 corrodes. And this eye and tooth are, as it were, 
 common to all. For what they discover and have 
 intelligence of is transmitted through the hands of 
 partizans from one member to another. And for 
 the tooth, they bite with the same mouth, and sing 
 the same tune > so that to hear one is to hear all. 
 Thus these Graeae are to be conciliated by Perseus, 
 that they may lend him their tooth and eye : the 
 
PERSEUS, OR WAR. 263 
 
 eye to acquire information, the tooth to disperse 
 sedition and disaffection, and corrupt the minds of 
 men. After these dispositions and preparations, 
 follow actual hostilities. Here he finds Medusa 
 sleeping : for the prudent undertaker of war makes 
 a point of attacking an enemy when unprepared 
 and in the most negligent security. And at 
 this juncture the mirror of Pallas becomes need- 
 ful ; for most men, before actual danger, can ex- 
 amine the affairs of their enemies acutely and 
 attentively ; but in the very article of danger the 
 use of the mirror is most effective, that the manner 
 of the danger may be seen, its terrors not be en- 
 countered (which is signified by the averting of the 
 head to look on the mirror). On the accomplish- 
 ment of the war two effects follow: first, the pro- 
 duction and awaking of Pegasus, who clearly de- 
 notes fame, which flies to all quarters and pro- 
 claims the victory. Secondly, the bearing Medusa's 
 head on the shield ; since no kind of defence can 
 be compared to this for its excellence. For one 
 remarkable and memorable action happily carried 
 on and effected checks all the movements of ene- 
 mies, and renders stupid malevolence itself. 
 
264 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 VIII. ENDYMION, OR THE FAVOURITE. 
 
 THE shepherd Endymion is said to have been 
 beloved by Luna, and the manner of their 
 meetings was singular and extraordinary : for he 
 was wont to sleep in a grotto near his native 
 place, under the Latmian rocks; and Luna is said 
 to have descended frequently from heaven, sought 
 the embraces of her sleeping companion, and so 
 returned again to heaven. Yet his indolence and 
 sleep was no detriment to his fortunes : but Luna 
 in the meanwhile took care that his herds should 
 fatten and increase as prosperously as possible, so 
 that no shepherd had more well-conditioned or 
 more numerous flocks. This fable appears to re- 
 late to the character and habitudes of princes. Be- 
 ing full of cares and inclined to suspicion, they will 
 not readily admit to their private familiarity men 
 who are intelligent, curious, and of vigilant dispo- 
 sition ; but rather men of a quiet and yielding nature, 
 who submit to the will of their masters and enquire 
 no farther, exposing themselves as men unconcern- 
 ed, unsearching, insensible, and, as it were, asleep ; 
 paying rather simple obedience than cunning ob- 
 servance to their masters. With such men as 
 these princes are accustomed to descend from their 
 majesty, as the moon from her orbit, to lay aside 
 
ENDYMION, OR THE FAVOURITE. 265 
 
 their mask (the perpetual wearing of which becomes 
 a sort of burden) and amuse themselves familiarly 
 with them ; imagining that they may do this in 
 safety. This was particularly remarked in Tibe- 
 rius Caesar, a prince of all others most difficult of 
 access ; with whom those only were favourites who 
 did, in fact, make observation of his character, but 
 preserved a perpetual simulation of stupidity. Such 
 was also the custom of Lewis XI. King of France, 
 a most crafty and prudent monarch. Nor is it 
 without elegance that the fable introduces the cave 
 of Endymion, because it is usually the custom with 
 those who enjoy such favour with princes to have 
 some pleasant retirements, to which they may in- 
 vite them for the sake of leisure and relaxation, 
 unencumbered by the weight of their dignity. 
 Those who become in this manner favourites, are 
 usually prosperous in their fortunes ; for the princes, 
 although perhaps they do not raise them to honours, 
 yet, since they love them with sincere affection, 
 and not with a view to make use of them, are wont 
 to enrich them with their munificence. 
 
266 wisdom or the ancients. 
 
 IX. THE SISTER OF THE GIANTS, OR FAME. 
 
 THE poets relate that the giants, sprung- from 
 the Earth, engaged in war against Jupiter and 
 the gods, and were overthrown and subdued by- 
 thunderbolts ; and that Earth, indignant against 
 the gods, for the sake of revenge for her sons, 
 brought forth Fame, the last sister of the giants. 
 
 Illam Terra parens, ira irritata Deorum, 
 
 Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororem, 
 
 Progenuit. 
 
 The following appears to be the meaning of this 
 fable : by Earth the nature of the common people 
 is understood ; perpetually swelling up and rebel- 
 lious against potentates, and constantly producing 
 revolutions. This nature, when occasion offers, 
 brings forth rebels and seditious men, who endea- 
 vour with impious daring to disturb and overthrow 
 princes. When these are overthrown, the same 
 nature of the populace, favourable to the worst 
 characters, and impatient of tranquillity, produces 
 rumours, malignant whispers, and seditious com- 
 plaints, declamatory libels, and such like, to excite 
 hatred against those who are at the head of go- 
 vernment : so that rebellious actions and seditious 
 rumours differ in no respect from each other in race 
 and family, but as it were only in sex, the latter 
 appearing feminine, the former masculine. 
 
267 
 
 X. ACTION AND PENTHEUS, OR THE 
 CURIOUS MAN. 
 
 THE curiosity of men in hunting out secrets, 
 and the ill directed appetite which induces 
 them to desire and seek after the knowledge of 
 them, is reproved by the ancients in two fables; 
 the one of Acteeon, the other of Pentheus. Actaeon 
 having seen Diana undressed, by chance, through 
 his imprudence, was turned into a stag, and torn 
 by the dogs which he nourished. Pentheus, who 
 had ascended a tree, with intent to behold the se- 
 cret sacrifices of Bacchus, was struck with mad- 
 ness. This madness of Pentheus was of such a 
 nature, that he imagined things to have become 
 double, and that two Suns and two Thebes ap- 
 peared before his eyes : so that as soon as he 
 hastened towards Thebes, he was immediately re- 
 called by the opposite vision of the city. And in 
 this manner he was led up and down in perpetual 
 inquietude. 
 
 Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus, 
 Et Solem geminum, et duplices se ostendere Thebas. 
 
 The first of these fables seems to relate to the 
 secrets of princes ; the second, to divine secrets. 
 For those who, without being admitted to the pri- 
 vacy of princes, and, against their will, become 
 possessed of their secrets, raise most certain hatred 
 
268 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 against themselves. Therefore, knowing that they 
 are objects of suspicion, and occasions of ruining 
 them sought after, they lead a timid and suspicious 
 life, like that of deer. Moreover, it frequently 
 happens that they are accused and ruined by their 
 servants and domestics, for the sake of the prince's 
 favour. For where the ill-will of a prince becomes 
 apparent, there are to be found usually as many 
 traitors as servants: and the fate of Actaeon awaits 
 them. The calamity of Pentheus is of a different 
 nature. For those who rashly dare to aspire, for- 
 getful of their mortality, to celestial mysteries by 
 the lofty summits of nature and philosophy (as by 
 the ascent of a tree), the punishment declared 
 against them is perpetual inconstancy of opinion, 
 and a vacillating and perplexed judgment. And 
 since there are two lights to them, that of Nature 
 and that of religion ; hence it becomes to them as 
 though they saw two suns. And since the actions 
 of life, and decrees of the will depend upon the 
 understanding*, they necessarily hesitate as much 
 in will as in opinion, and never remain consistent 
 to themselves. Thus, in like manner, they see a 
 double Thebes : for under the name of Thebes are 
 described the ends of actions (the house and refuge 
 of Pentheus being at Thebes). Hence they re- 
 main uncertain which way to turn themselves, and 
 are doubtful and hesitating in momentous affairs, 
 as if guided in each of them by sudden impulses of 
 the mind. 
 
269 
 
 XI. ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 THE fable of Orpheus, which, although com- 
 monly known, has not obtained in all its parts 
 a faithful expositor, appears to designate the cha- 
 racter of universal philosophy. The person of 
 Orpheus, a most admirable and divine character, 
 skilled in every mode of harmony, and able to con- 
 quer and attract all things by his sweet numbers, 
 may be applied by an easy transition to suit the 
 description of philosophy. Thus the labours of 
 Orpheus excel in dignity and magnitude the la- 
 bours of Hercules, as the works of wisdom do the 
 works of fortitude. Orpheus, led by his love for 
 his consort, snatched from him by premature death, 
 trusting to his lyre, conceived the enterprise of 
 descending to the infernal regions, to recover her 
 by entreaty from the shades. Nor did he fail in 
 his hopes ; for, having appeased the manes by the 
 charms of his verse and the delights of his melody, 
 he so far prevailed as to obtain the power of lead- 
 ing her back with him: yet, under the condition 
 that she must follow him from behind, and that he 
 must not look back until he has reached the con- 
 fines of day. Nevertheless, urged by impatience 
 of his love and anxiety, he broke the law almost in 
 the very moment of safety, and his wife was pre- 
 
270 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 cipitously hurried back into the infernal regions. 
 From that time Orpheus become a melancholy 
 woman hater, betook himself to solitude, where by 
 the same sweetness of his song and instrument he 
 first drew round him all manner of wild beasts, 
 and forced them to put off their very nature, for- 
 get their passions, their ferocity, and the madden- 
 ing stimulus of their lust, or desire for prey, until 
 they stood round him like the spectators of a thea- 
 tre, become calm and tame among themselves, 
 and seeming to lend their ears to the harmony of 
 his lyre. Nor was this all, for so great was the 
 power and influence of music, that the very woods 
 and stones were moved to relinquish their habita- 
 tions, and take their seats around him in decent 
 order and manner. Thus far he had proceeded 
 successfully, with great admiration from all. At 
 length the Thracian women, roused by the influ- 
 ence of Bacchus, first blew a loud and hoarse blast 
 from their horns, so that from the violence of the 
 noise the sound of the Muses could no longer be 
 heard : then only the spell which had been the 
 uniting link of this orderly society being dissolved, 
 tumult began ; all the beasts returned to their pris- 
 tine natures, and attacked each other as formerly : 
 nor did the stones and woods remain in their places, 
 while Orpheus himself was finally torn to pieces 
 by the raging women, and his relics scattered over 
 the fields : through grief for whose death, Helicon, 
 the river sacred to the Muses, hid his streams in 
 
ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY. 271 
 
 indignation under the earth, and again raised his 
 fountains in another' spot. The following seems 
 to be the sense of the fable. 
 
 The song of Orpheus is two-fold. First, that 
 which appeases the shades ; second, that which 
 draws round him the beasts and trees. The first 
 is most aptly referred to natural, the second 
 to moral and civil, philosophy. For by far the 
 most noble object of natural philosophy, is the res- 
 toration and reinvigoration of corruptible natures ; 
 and (as lesser steps to serve for this purpose) the 
 preservation of matter in its existing state, and 
 the delaying of dissolution and decomposition. If 
 this may ever be effected at all, it will certainly 
 not be otherwise done than by exact and curiously 
 sought refinements of nature, and accurate mea- 
 sures, even like the harmony of a lyre. But this 
 act, of all the most difficult, usually fails in its ef- 
 fect ; and that probably not more from any other 
 cause than from curious and unseasonable anxiety 
 and impatience. Therefore philosophy, being 
 scarcely competent to such an undertaking, betakes 
 itself to human affairs, and, gradually instilling 
 into the minds of men the love of virtue, justice, 
 and peace, by its persuasive eloquence, it causes 
 societies and nations to unite together, to receive 
 the yoke of law, and submit themselves to its 
 guidance, and become forgetful of their untame- 
 able passions while they listen to precept and dis- 
 cipline; from whence they afterwards proceed- to 
 
272 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 construct edifices, to lay the foundations of towns, 
 to plant fields and gardens with trees : so that stones 
 and woods are not unreasonably said to be called 
 together and moved from their place. And this 
 attention to the affairs of society is rightly placed 
 in its due order, after the sedulous endeavour and 
 late failure in the restoration of a mortal body ; 
 because the clearer demonstration of the inevitable 
 necessity of death encourages men to seek eter- 
 nity by way of achievements and renown. It is 
 also ingeniously added in the fable that Orpheus 
 was averse to women and marriage, because the 
 attractions of marriage and domestic charities do 
 mostly hold men back from meriting great and ex- 
 cellent things of their country, while they are con- 
 tented in acquiring immortality through their off- 
 spring, instead of through their actions. Never- 
 theless, the works of wisdom herself, although 
 they be most excellent among those of man, are 
 yet subject to perish in a certain space of time. 
 Thus it has happened that when kingdoms and 
 commonwealths have flourished up to their hour, 
 at length tumults, seditions, and wars arise ; among 
 the disturbances of which first the laws fall silent, 
 and men return to the original vice of their na- 
 ture : and desolation is also seen in the cultivated 
 lands and cities. And, in no short space of time, 
 if this madness lasts, letters and philosophy her- 
 self are sure to be torn in pieces, so that nothing 
 but a few fragments of her are found in distant 
 
HEAVEN, OR ORIGINS. 273 
 
 places, like the timbers of a shipwreck. Times of 
 barbarism succeed, the waters of Helicon sink un- 
 der the earth, until in the necessary mutations of 
 things they burst out again, and flow forth, not 
 perhaps, in the same places, but among other 
 nations. 
 
 XII. HEAVEN, OR ORIGINS. 
 
 THE poets feign that Ccelus (Heaven) was the 
 most ancient of the deities : that his parts of 
 generation were cut off with a scythe by his son 
 Saturn: that Saturn begat a numerous offspring 
 but always devoured his sons : that Jupiter at last 
 escaped from destruction, and that as soon as he 
 grew up he thrust his father, Saturn, into Tartarus, 
 and seized on his kingdom, having moreover cut off 
 his genitals with the same scythe which Saturn 
 had used against Ccelus, and cast them into the 
 sea; from which Venus was born. After this, two 
 memorable wars threatened the scarcely established 
 kingdom of Jupiter. The first from the Titans, 
 towards the reducing of whom, the assistance of 
 Sol (who alone of the Titans embraced the cause 
 of Jupiter) is said to have been very conducive. 
 The second from the giants, who were routed by 
 the thunderbolt and arms of Jupiter ; after whose 
 conquest Jupiter reigned secure. The fable ap- 
 T 
 
274 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 pears to be an enigma concerning the original of 
 things, not far different from the philosophy af- 
 terwards adopted by Democritus, who most openly 
 of all asserted the eternal nature of matter, and 
 denied the eternity of the universe : in which he 
 approached somewhat near to the truth expressed 
 in the scriptures, in the history of which matter is 
 said to have existed in an unformed state before 
 the work of the six days. The meaning of the 
 fable is as follows : heaven is that concave cir- 
 cumference which incloses matter. Saturn him- 
 self is matter, which deprives its parent of all pro- 
 ductive power. The quantity of matter is always 
 the same, nor does the sum of nature ever increase 
 or diminish. The agitations and motions of matter 
 first produced the imperfect and incoherent rudi- 
 ments and elements of things, and essays as it 
 were of worlds : at length, in the progress of time, 
 a fabric grew, which had power to guard and pre- 
 serve its own form. The first division, therefore, 
 of time is signified by the kingdom of Saturn, who 
 is said to be the devourer of his children, to re- 
 present the frequent dissolutions and short dura- 
 tion of forms of matter during its passage. The 
 second by the kingdom of Jupiter, who thrust down 
 these perpetually changing and transitory exist- 
 ences into Tartarus, which signifies agitation. This 
 place appears to be the middle space between the 
 recesses of heaven and the interior of the earth ; 
 in which interval change and frailty and mortality, 
 
HEAVEN, OR ORIGINS. 275 
 
 or corruptibility, do chiefly inhabit. Under the 
 former ages of the production of things which 
 lasted through the reign of Saturn, Venus is said 
 not to have existed. For while, through the uni- 
 versal extent of matter, discord was stronger and 
 more powerful than concord, an entire change in 
 the fabric itself was necessarily taking place ; and 
 thus the generations of matter continued, until the 
 mutilation of Saturn. When this mode of gene- 
 ration ceased, a new one immediately succeeded, 
 which is effected by means of Venus,— the adult 
 and powerful concord of things : so that change 
 takes place only in parts, the main fabric remains 
 entire and undisturbed. Saturn they relate to have 
 been merely dethroned and exiled, not slain and 
 annihilated; because it was the opinion of Demo- 
 critus that the universe might relapse into its an- 
 cient chaos and state of anarchy ; the accomplish- 
 ment of which in his time Lucretius deprecated : 
 
 Quod procul a nobis, flectat fortuna gubernans 
 Et ratio potius, quam res persuadeat ipsa. 
 
 When, however, the world was established on 
 its own basis, and stayed by its own strength, still 
 there was no rest at first. In the first place, mighty 
 movements took place in the celestial regions, which 
 by the virtue of the sun predominating among the 
 celestial bodies were so made to cease, that the 
 state of the universe still subsisted. Afterwards, 
 like things happened in the inferior regions, by 
 
276 WISDOM OF THE ANCIEXTS. 
 
 inundations, tempests, winds, and yet more by uni- 
 versal earthquakes : by the subduing and suppres- 
 sion of which the harmony and tranquillity of things 
 grew more peaceful and durable. But of this fable 
 both may be affirmed that the fable contains philo- 
 sophy, and again the philosophy contains fable. For 
 by faith we know that all this is no more than the 
 long ago silent and failing oracles of sense ; since 
 the matter and formation of the world are most 
 truly referred to the Creator of all. 
 
 XIII. PROTEUS, OR MATTER. 
 
 THE poets relate that Proteus was shepherd to 
 Neptune ; that he was aged, and a prophet : 
 a prophet the most excellent and thrice greatest of 
 all. For he knew not only the future, but the past 
 and present also, so that besides his divination he 
 was also the relator and expounder of all secrets 
 and of all history. His habitation was under a vast 
 cavern. There he was accustomed at noon to count 
 his flock of Phocae, and then betake himself to 
 sleep. Whoever was desirous to obtain his assist- 
 ance for any undertaking, could prevail upon him 
 by no means except by handcuffing and binding 
 him with fetters. On the other hand, he, in order 
 to free himself, would change himself into all man- 
 ner of forms and prodigies, fire, water, shapes of 
 
PROTEUS, OR MATTER. 277 
 
 beasts ; until at last he returned to his original 
 figure. The interpretation of this fable appears to 
 refer it to the secrets of nature and the laws of 
 matter. Under the form of Proteus matter is 
 signified, the most ancient of all things after God. 
 Matter inhabits under the concave vault of heaven, 
 like a cave. It is the slave of Neptune, because 
 the operation and distribution of matter principally 
 takes place in metals. The cattle, or flock, of 
 Proteus appears to be no other than the ordinary 
 race of animals, plants, and metals, in which mat- 
 ter appears to divide and as it were consume itself: 
 so that when it has formed and perfected these 
 species, then, as having finished its task, it appears 
 to lie in a quiescent state, and cease to essay, ima- 
 gine, or form any further species. Such is the 
 counting of the flock of Proteus, and his sheep. 
 This is said to take place at noon, not in the morn- 
 ing or evening : that is, when the time has come 
 which is fully ripe, and as it were appointed by 
 law for the perfection and cessation in further pro- 
 duction of species out of predisposed and prepared 
 matter, which is the middle time between their 
 elements and their declension ; which we know 
 sufficiently from holy writ to have been at the very 
 time of the creation. Then, by virtue of the di- 
 vine word "produce," matter collected together 
 under the command of the creator, instantly, and 
 not through its natural transformations, and im- 
 mediately brought its work to completion and pro- 
 
278 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 duced species. Thus far the fable completes the 
 relation of Proteus while he remains free and un- 
 bound, together with his flock. For the universe, 
 with its ordinary forms and structures of species, 
 is the form of matter not bound or chained, and of 
 the flock of material things. Nevertheless, if a 
 skilful handler of nature apply force to matter, and 
 torment and press it, as if with intent and deter- 
 mination to reduce it to nothing, matter on the 
 contrary (since its utter annihilation and destruc- 
 tion can never take place except by the omnipotent 
 will of God), being placed in these straits, twists 
 and changes itself into a wonderful variety of shapes 
 and transformations ; until it has gone through a 
 circle of mutations, fulfilled its revolutions, and 
 finally restores itself to its former shape, if the 
 force be constantly applied to it. The addition of 
 the fable, that Proteus was a prophet, and knew 
 all the three forms of time, well consents with the 
 nature of matter. For it is necessary that whoso- 
 ever knows the accidents and processes of matter, 
 must also know the sum of all things done, doing*, 
 and to be done, although his knowledge may not 
 extend to particulars and individuals. 
 
279 
 
 XIV. MEMNON, OR THE PREMATURE. 
 
 ACCORDING to the poets, Memnon was the 
 son of Aurora. Brilliant in the beauty of 
 his arms, and rich in popular favour, he came to 
 the Trojan war, and, ardently hastening with rash 
 daring to reach the highest prize, engaged in single 
 combat with Achilles, the bravest of the Greeks, 
 and fell by his hand. Jupiter, commiserating his 
 fate, sent birds to attend his funeral, and pay ho- 
 nour to his remains with a perpetual doleful and 
 solemn strain ; and it is said that his statue when 
 first touched by the rising sun was wont to emit a 
 mournful sound. This fable appears to relate to 
 the calamitous ends of young men of great promise . 
 They are like the sons of the morning; and em- 
 boldened by the brilliancy of empty and superficial 
 appearances, they are impelled to darings beyond 
 their strength, challenge the greatest heroes, pro- 
 voke them to the field, and fail and perish in the 
 unequal conflict. Their death is usually followed 
 by infinite commiseration; for nothing among the 
 accidents of the human race is so lamentable and 
 so powerful to excite pity, as the bloom of courage 
 cut down by a premature destruction. For the 
 early age of the sufferers has not reached far enough, 
 to excite indifference, or envy, which might tern- 
 
280 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 per the sorrow conceived for their fate, or diminish 
 the pity felt towards them. Moreover, these la- 
 mentations and sorrows do not merely flit like those 
 funeral birds around their tomb, but this pity js 
 lasting and protracted ; most of all, when oppor- 
 tunities arise for changes and mighty enterprises, 
 as at the rays of the rising sun, regret for their loss 
 is again awaking. 
 
 XV. TYTHONUS, OR SATIETY. 
 
 AN elegant fable is related concerning Tytho- 
 nus : that he was beloved by Aurora, who being 
 anxious for the perpetual enjoyment of his com- 
 pany, asked of Jupiter, that Tythonus might never 
 die ; but through feminine negligence she forgot 
 to insert in her petition the condition, that he should 
 never grow old. Thus the destiny of death was 
 taken away from him, and a strange and pitiable 
 old age was left him; such as might naturally 
 come on one to whom death is denied, while the 
 burden of age grows daily heavier; so that Jupiter, 
 in pity for his lot, at length changed him to a 
 grasshopper. This fable appears to be an ingeni- 
 ous sketch, and allegorical representation of plea- 
 sure ; which, in the beginning, (as in the time 
 peculiar to Aurora) is so grateful to men, that they 
 make vows to heaven that these joys may be theirs 
 
TYTHONUS, OR SATIETY. 281 
 
 for ever, forgetting that satiety and weariness of 
 them, as of old age, will come on them unawares; 
 so that at last, when the act of pleasure is no longer 
 possible to men, while their desires and affections 
 remain, it usually happens that men receive plea- 
 sure from the stories and relations of those things 
 of which the reality delighted them in the vigour 
 of their age. This we particularly observe in le- 
 chers and soldiers ; the former of whom tell obscene 
 tales, the latter recount their own exploits, like 
 grasshoppers, whose vigour is in their voice alone. 
 
 XVI. THE SUITOR OF JUNO, OR DISGRACE. 
 
 THE poets relate that Jupiter, who had assumed 
 many and various forms to obtain the accom- 
 plishment of his passions, as of a bull, an eagle, a 
 golden shower : when he courted Juno, changed 
 himself into the most ignoble figure, the most con- 
 temptible and ridiculous shape which he could as- 
 sume ; namely, that of a wretched cuckoo, wet 
 through with rain and sleet, drooping, trembling, 
 and half dead. This fable is most ingeniously de- 
 rived from the most deep seated characteristics of 
 men. The meaning of it is, that men should not 
 too highly esteem themselves, imagining that the 
 effects of their virtuous character will acquire fa- 
 vour and reputation for them among all classes of 
 
282 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 men ; for that such success depends upon the na- 
 ture and character of those whom they address and 
 cultivate. If these are men of no parts or orna- 
 ments, but simply of a proud and spiteful nature, 
 (which^is represented by the figure of Juno) then 
 they should be ready immediately to cease to act a 
 part which bears the smallest appearance of dignity 
 or grace : they must know that to persevere by any 
 other means, is mere folly ; and that it will not be 
 enough to endure the disgrace which necessarily 
 attends flattery, unless they also put on a charac- 
 ter entirely abject and dishonourable. 
 
 XVII. CUPID, OR ATOM. 
 
 THE various relations which are made of Cupid, 
 or Love, by the poets, cannot properly be made 
 to agree in one agent ; yet they differ in such a 
 manner that the confusion of persons may be re- 
 jected, their similitude retained. Thus they write 
 that Love was the most ancient of all the gods, and 
 consequently of all things, except chaos, which is 
 represented coeval with him; but chaos, among the 
 early writers, has never divine honours or the name 
 of deity attributed to it. This Love is brought for- 
 ward without any parents being mentioned, ex- 
 cept that some relate that he was an egg produced by 
 Night. He from chaos produced the gods, and the 
 
CUPID, OR ATOM. 283 
 
 universe of things. He has four peculiar attributes : 
 he is in a state of perpetual childhood, blind, naked, 
 and an archer. There was indeed another Love, the 
 youngest of the gods, the son of Venus ; who has 
 also the attributes of the elder love transferred to 
 him : and the two characters in some manner agree. 
 This fable refers to the rudiments of nature, and 
 deeply investigates them. This Love is the appe- 
 tite or stimulus of first created matter : or to speak 
 more plainly, the natural movement of the atom. 
 This that most ancient and single force, which 
 frames and constitutes every thing out of matter. 
 It is entirely destitute of parents : that is, un- 
 caused : for the cause is, as it were, the parent of 
 the effect : and of this first influence there can be 
 no cause in Nature (excepting God always), for 
 nothing can be before it in time : no efficient, no 
 natural thing of a more general and known nature ; 
 therefore no genus, or form : so that whatsoever 
 this first agent be, it is positive and unorganized 
 matter. And if its essence and process could be 
 known, it could never be known through its cause ; 
 because under God it is the cause of all causes, 
 and itself causeless. Nor, perhaps, is its essence 
 possible to be fixed and comprehended by human 
 examination : so that it is with reason said to be 
 an egg hatched by Night. Such certainly the, 
 sacred philosopher pronounces it to be: "He hath 
 made everything beautiful in their seasons, also he 
 hath set the world in their meditations, yet man 
 
284 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 cannot find the work that God hath wrought, from 
 the beginning even to the end : " for the ori- 
 ginal law of Nature, or virtue of this Cupid, im- 
 pressed upon the first particles of things by the 
 Creator to produce coition, from the repetition and 
 multiplication of which all the variety of Nature 
 emerges and is composed, can possibly excite the 
 meditations of man, but can never be the subject 
 of his comprehension. The philosophy of the Greeks 
 is found to have been more acute and laborious in 
 investigating the principles of materially formed 
 things; more negligent and unsatisfactory with 
 regard to the laws of motion, in which all the vigour 
 of generation consists : and on this point on which 
 we treat it appears altogether blind and trifling. 
 For the opinion of the peripatetics of the privative 
 stimulus of nature scarcely goes beyond mere words, 
 and rather represents than explains the case. Those 
 who refer all to God, do well, indeed, but ascend 
 by a leap, and not step by step. For no doubt 
 there is a primary and single law in which nature 
 agrees, subordinate to God: that very one, namely, 
 which in the above text is pointed out in the sen- 
 tence, "The work that God hath wrought from 
 the beginning even unto the end." But Demo- 
 critus, who considered this matter more deeply, 
 having imagined an atom possessing neither di- 
 mension nor figure, attributed to it one simple 
 motion, namely, the cupido, or primary movement, 
 and another relative motion. For he conceived all 
 
CUPID, OR ATOM. 285 
 
 things to be borne by nature towards the centre of 
 the universe ; while that which had more matter, 
 being hurried more rapidly to the centre, struck 
 off and repelled backwards that which had less. 
 Yet this theory was too narrow, and comprehended 
 less than it should have done. For neither the 
 circular revolutions of the celestial bodies, nor the 
 contraction and expansion of things can be reduced 
 or accommodated to this principle. Again, the 
 opinion of Epicurus, of the declension of the atom, 
 and its agitation by the operation of chance, re- 
 lapses into trifling and ignorance. Thus it appears 
 far clearer than we might wish, that this Cupid is 
 involved as yet in darkness. Let us now consider 
 his attributes : Cupid is elegantly represented as a 
 little child in perpetual infancy. For composed 
 bodies are larger, and subject to the effects of time : 
 but the first seeds of things, or atoms, are diminu- 
 tive, and remain in perpetual childhood. It is also 
 said with great truth, that he is naked ; since all 
 composed bodies, to one who thinks justly, appear 
 concrete and clothed with Reason ; and nothing is 
 properly naked except the first particles of things. 
 The allegorical blindness of Cupid is also a wise 
 invention : for this Cupid, whoever he is, appears 
 to have very little foresight ; but to direct his steps 
 and motions according to whatever he feels nearest 
 to him, as the blind find their way by the touch ; 
 by which so much the more admirable is the su- 
 preme providence of God, which produces, by a 
 
286 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 certain and immutable law, out of things most blind, 
 most destitute and void of foresight, the existing 
 order and beauty of things. The last attribute 
 given him is that of being an archer, that is, that 
 his influence is such as to operate by nature at a 
 distance : for that which operates at a distance, 
 acts as if by sending forth an arrow ; and whoever 
 supposes an atom, or a vacuum, necessarily in- 
 troduces the distant influence of an atom ; for if 
 this be taken from it, no motion could be excited 
 by reason of the interposition of the vacuum, and 
 all would rest torpid and immovable. As to the 
 younger Cupid, he is rightly represented as the 
 youngest of the gods, since he could not flourish 
 before the constitution of species. In the descrip- 
 tion of him the allegory is bent and brought round 
 to the character of man. Yet he has a certain 
 conformity with the more ancient Cupid. Venus 
 excites the general appetite of union and procrea- 
 tion : Cupid, her son, directs this affection to an 
 individual object. The general disposition is the 
 work of Venus, the more exact sympathy that of 
 Cupid : the former depends upon more superficial 
 causes ; the latter on higher and more important 
 principles, and, as it were, descends from the an- 
 cient Cupid, on w T hom all exquisite sympathy de- 
 pends. 
 
287 
 
 XVIII. DIOMED, OR JEALOUSY. 
 
 DIOMED being honoured with great and de- 
 served glory, and the favourite of Minerva, 
 was excited by her advice (and that more easily 
 than he should have been) to refuse to spare Venus 
 in case he should meet her in battle : which he 
 boldly performed by wounding her in the right 
 hand. For this daring action he remained at the 
 time unpunished, and returned to his country fa- 
 mous and illustrious in his exploits : where having 
 suffered under domestic evils, he fled abroad into 
 Italy. Here also he had a very fortunate begin- 
 ning, and was honoured and enriched by the hos- 
 pitality and munificence of king Daunus, and had 
 many statues erected to him in that country. But 
 upon the first calamity which befell the people 
 among whom he abode, king Daunus immediately 
 bethought himself that he had brought under his 
 roof an impious man, an enemy and opponent of 
 the gods ; who had attacked with weapons and 
 wounded a goddess whom even to touch was for- 
 bidden. Therefore, in order to free his country 
 by the offering of a lustral sacrifice, without re- 
 verencing the laws of hospitality, which appeared 
 to him less ancient than the right of religion, he 
 instantly slew Diomed; and commanded his statues 
 
288 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 to be thrown down, and his honours to be revoked. 
 Nor was it allowed even to lament so heavy a mis- 
 fortune with impunity : for his very companions, 
 who were mourning* for the fate of their leader, and 
 filling all places with their lamentations, were 
 changed into certain birds resembling swans, which 
 at the time of their death chaunt a sweet and me- 
 lancholy strain. 
 
 This fable has a rare and singular subject: for 
 we have no relation of any other hero in fable, ex- 
 cept Diomed only, who was said to have violated 
 any of the gods with his arms. And in his cha- 
 racter the fable appears to represent the image and 
 fortunes of a man who professedly proposes and 
 sets before himself this object for his endeavours, 
 namely, to attack and overcome by arms and vio- 
 lence any form of worship, or religious sect, even 
 a vain and unreasonable one. For although the 
 bloody wars of religion were unknown to the an- 
 cients, (since the Heathen deities were not affected 
 with that jealousy which is the attribute of the true 
 God) yet such and so extensive seems to have been 
 the wisdom of the early ages, that they were able 
 to comprehend by meditation, and express in alle- 
 gory what they could not know by experience. 
 Those, then, who attempt not to correct and con- 
 vince by force of reason and doctrine, sanctity of 
 life, and weight of authorities and examples, any 
 religious sect, although a vain, corrupt, and infa- 
 mous one (which is signified in the person of Ve- 
 
!i 
 
 DIOMED, OR JEALOUSY. 289 
 
 nus), but strive to root out and exterminate it by 
 sword and fire and cruel punishments; are perhaps 
 inflamed to this degree by Pallas, that is, by a cer- 
 tain cold prudence and severity of judgment, by the 
 force and efficacy of which they clearly see through 
 the fallacies and absurdities of these errors ; added 
 to hatred of wickedness and just zeal. And it may 
 happen that at the time they acquire much glory, 
 and among the people, to whom moderate measures 
 are never grateful, are celebrated and almost 
 adored as the only true champions of truth and re- 
 ligion ; all others appearing lukewarm and timid. 
 But this glory and felicity rarely abide to the end : 
 and almost all violence w r hich does not escape by 
 a speedy death the vicissitudes of fortune, fails in 
 prosperity at last. If it should happen that a change 
 take place in affairs, and the oppressed and perse- 
 cuted sect acquires strength and rises again, then 
 the contentious zeal of such men is condemned, 
 their very name is an object of hatred, and all their 
 honours end in ignominy. The slaughter of Diomed 
 by his host signifies that difference of religion 
 excites hatred and treason even between the dear- 
 est friends : and that the grief and lamentations of 
 his comrades were not endured, but punished, is 
 intended to admonish men, that in almost every 
 crime there is room left for pity; so that those 
 who detest the act, yet commiserate the persons 
 and sufferings of the guilty, through humanity : 
 and that it is the last of evils, to interdict the com- 
 u 
 
290 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 munication of pity. Yet in cases of irreligion and 
 impiety, even the commiseration of men is marked 
 and becomes suspicious. On the other hand, the 
 complaints and lamentations of the companions of 
 Diomed, that is, of men who embrace the same 
 sect and opinion, are usually very shrill and har- 
 monious, as those of swans or the birds of Diomed : 
 in which respect also that last part of the allegory 
 is excellent and admirable : that the voices of those 
 who suffer for the sake of religion, at the time of 
 their death, like the songs of swans, soften the 
 minds of men in a wonderful manner, and remain 
 long infixed in their memory and feelings. 
 
 XIX. DAEDALUS, OR THE MECHANIC. 
 
 MECHANICAL science and industry, and the 
 unlawful artifices which are employed by a 
 bad use of them, are shadowed out by the ancients 
 under the character of Daedalus, a most ingenious, 
 but execrably bad character. This man was ban- 
 ished for the murder of a rival and fellow student, 
 but became in his exile a friend to kings and cities. 
 And he had indeed built and framed many exqui- 
 site edifices, both for the honour of the gods, and 
 the magnificence and adornment of cities ; but his 
 name is principally famous for his illicit workman- 
 ship. He built a fabric to minister to the lust of 
 
D&DALUS, OR THE MECHANIC. 291 
 
 Pasiphae, that she might be united there with a bull ; 
 so that from the wicked industiy and mischievous 
 ingenuity of this man, the monster Minotaur, 
 which devoured the free youth of Athens, drew his 
 ill-fated and infamous origin. To conceal evil by 
 accumulating evil upon it, for the security of this 
 pest, he imagined and constructed the labyrinth : 
 a work wicked in its intent and destination, won- 
 derful and renowned for its excellence of art. 
 Lastly, that he might not become known merely 
 for his evil stratagems, and that remedies, as well as 
 instruments of wickedness, might be in his gift, he 
 was the inventor of the ingenious artifice of the clue 
 of thread by which the windings of the labyrinth 
 might be retraced. This Daedalus Minos pursued 
 with great severity and diligence of inquisition : 
 but he always found means of escape and places of 
 refuge. At length, when he had taught his son 
 Icarus the art of flying, the novice, ostentatious 
 of his powers, fell from the air into the sea. 
 
 The allegory appears to be of the following na- 
 ture : in its very opening, the envy which watches 
 the acts of excellent workmen, and possesses won- 
 derful influence, is marked out ; for no kind of 
 men suffers so much under envy, and that of the 
 most bitter and unrelenting nature. A hint is 
 added of the impolitic and improvident nature of 
 the punishment of Daedalus, namely, by banish- 
 ment. For it is the peculiar excellence of good 
 artificers, that they are most acceptable to every 
 
292 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 people ; so that banishment can hardly be inflicted 
 as a punishment on a skilful mechanic. For other 
 conditions and kinds of life cannot easily be en- 
 joyed out of our country. But the admiration of 
 artificers is propagated and increased among foreign 
 people, since it is natural to man to undervalue the 
 talents of his own fellow citizens in mechanical 
 arts. What follows concerning the use of these 
 arts, is manifest; for human life owes much to 
 them, since from their treasures much is brought 
 for the celebration of religion, much for public 
 magnificence, and for general civilization. Never- 
 theless, from the same source are brought instru- 
 ments of lust and cruelty. For we well know (to 
 omit the wiles of procurers) how far our exquisite 
 poisons, our military artillery, and such destroying 
 engines, surpass the Minotaur himself in cruelty 
 and destructiveness. The allegory of the labyrinth 
 is also a very beautiful one, in which general na- 
 ture is sketched out in relation to mechanics. For 
 all mechanic inventions which are ingenious and 
 exquisite may be regarded as a labyrinth ; for their 
 subtlety and various involutions, and apparent si- 
 militude in things, the difference between which 
 can hardly be traced or discriminated by any 
 acuteness of judgment, but only by the clue of ex- 
 perience. Nor is it less fitly added, that the same 
 person who invented the windings of the labyrinth 
 also shewed the application of the clue : for the 
 mechanic arts are as it were of twofold use, and 
 
DiEDALTJS, OR THE MECHANIC. 293 
 
 serve both for mischief and remedy, and their vir- 
 tue does for the most part dissolve and unravel its 
 own secrets. Minos is said frequently to prosecute 
 these illicit artifices, and therefore the arts also ; 
 that is, the laws, which condemn them and inter- 
 dict the use of them to the people. Nevertheless, 
 they are concealed and retained, and have every- 
 where both their hiding places and refuge, which 
 was also well remarked in a subject of much the 
 same nature in his time by Tacitus, speaking of the 
 judicial astrologers and Genethliacs : a race of men, 
 he says, who will be ever maintained and ever pro- 
 hibited in our city. And yet illicit and curious 
 arts of any kind fall in length of time from their 
 reputation (as Icarus from heaven), are reduced to 
 contempt, and perish by too great ostentation of 
 themselves, being generally unable to perform what 
 they have promised. And certainly, if the whole 
 truth is to be said, they are not so successfully put 
 down by restraints of law, as refuted by their 
 own want of success. 
 
 XX. ERICTHONIUS, OR IMPOSTURE. 
 
 THE poets fable that Vulcan made an attempt 
 on the chastity of Minerva, and with inflamed 
 desires offered her violence, and that in the strug- 
 gle his seed fell on the ground, from which Eric- 
 
294 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 thonius was born, who in his upper parts was comely 
 and well knit, but his thighs and legs ended in the 
 resemblance of an eel, small and deformed. Of 
 this deformity being himself conscious, he was the 
 first who invented the use of chariots, by which 
 means he might shew what was well made of his 
 form, and conceal at the same time his disgrace. 
 Of this strange and monstrous fable the following 
 appears to be the signification. Art (which is re- 
 presented under the person of Vulcan, on account 
 of the numerous uses of fire) as often as, by vari- 
 ous mutation of corporeal substances, it attempts 
 to do violence to Nature, and conquer and subdue 
 her (Nature being shadowed out under the charac- 
 ter of Minerva,, for the variety of her works), rarely 
 attains the destined object of its wish : yet in its 
 great machinations and strivings, (as in a struggle) 
 certain imperfect productions and mutilated works 
 are brought forth, specious in appearance, in use 
 weak and halting, which nevertheless impostors use 
 to shew about with much deceitful ostentation, and 
 carry, as it were, in triumph. Such we may fre- 
 quently observe among chemical productions and 
 among mechanical tricks and novelties ; especially 
 when men, more pressing on to their object than 
 retracing their steps from error, rather struggle 
 with nature than seek its embraces with just obe- 
 dience and observance. 
 
295 
 
 XXI. DEUCALION, OR RESTITUTION. 
 
 THE poets relate that when the whole of the 
 inhabitants of the ancient world were en- 
 tirely extinguished by a universal deluge, and 
 Deucalion and Pyrrha alone remained, who were 
 inflamed with a glorious and pious desire of re- 
 storing the human race, they received an oracle 
 of the following purport, that they should obtain 
 their wish if they would take up the bones of their 
 mother, and cast them behind them, which at first 
 filled their minds with sadness and despair ; since 
 the face of the earth having been completely al- 
 tered by the deluge, to seek her tomb would be 
 an entirely fruitless attempt; but at length they 
 discovered that the stones of the earth (since the 
 earth is called the common mother of all) were 
 signified by the oracle. This fable appears to be 
 a key to the secrets of nature, and intended to 
 correct an error deeply fixed in the mind of man, 
 for the ignorance of man imagines that the re- 
 newals or restorations of things can be effected 
 from their remnants in a state of decomposition, 
 as the Phoenix is raised from its own ashes, which 
 is not at all convenient to nature, since matter of 
 this description has already performed its office, 
 and is utterly insufficient for the generation of 
 things. Thus we must recur to more common 
 principles. 
 
296 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 XXII. NEMESIS, OR THE MUTABILITY 
 OF THINGS. 
 
 NEMESIS is said to be a goddess to be ve- 
 nerated by all men, and to be feared also 
 by the rich and powerful. She is called the daugh- 
 ter of Night and Ocean ; her figure is described 
 after the following manner : — She was winged, and 
 wore a crown ; she bore in her right hand an 
 ashen spear, in her left a phial in which iEthiops 
 were confined, and was mounted on a deer. The 
 allegory seems to be thus explained : The name 
 Nemesis signifies manifestly enough, Vengeance 
 or Retribution, for the office and ministry of this 
 goddess consisted in this, that she should inter- 
 pose her veto, like a tribune of the people, against 
 the constant and unvarying prosperity of the for- 
 tunate ; and not only chastise insolence, but pay 
 off prosperity, even though moderate and inno- 
 cently acquired, with alternate seasons of adver- 
 sity, as if it were a custom that no one under the 
 laws of humanity could be admitted to the feasts 
 of the gods, except to be made mock of. And I 
 indeed, when I read that chapter in C. Pliny, in 
 which he collects the ill accidents and misfortunes 
 of Augustus Csesar, him whom I was wont to look 
 upon as the most fortunate of all men, who had 
 also a peculiar art of enjoying his good fortune, 
 in whose mind there was no vain exaltation, no 
 
NEMESIS, OR THE MUTABILITY OF THINGS. 297 
 
 levity, no effeminacy, no indecision, no melancholy 
 to be remarked, (even so that he had determined 
 to put an end at some time to his own life) did 
 truly judge that Goddess to be a most mighty and 
 powerful one, to whose altar such a victim as this 
 was to be dragged. The parents of this Goddess 
 were Ocean and Night, that is, the Vicissitudes of 
 Things, and the obscure and secret counsel of 
 God ; for the changes of things are aptly repre- 
 sented by the Ocean in his everlasting flux and 
 reflux, and occult Providence is well designated by 
 Night. For among the Gentiles also that noctur- 
 nal Nemesis, who appeared wherever the judg- 
 ment of God seemed to differ from that of man, 
 was matter of observation. 
 
 cadit et Ripheus, justissimus unus 
 
 Qui fuit in Teucris, et servantissimus aequi, 
 Diis aliter visum- 
 
 Nemesis is represented winged, from the sud- 
 denness and unexpectedness of the changes of 
 things ; for throughout the memory of man it is 
 mostly wont to happen, that great and prudent 
 men have perished under those trials which they 
 most especially contemned. Certainly, when M. 
 Cicero was admonished by Decius Brutus of the 
 insincerity and concealed malice of Octavius 
 Coesar, he merely answered, " You my Brutus I 
 love as I should, for having chosen that I should 
 be informed even of these trifles, whatsoever they 
 
298 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 are." Nemesis is distinguished also by a crown, 
 on account of the envious and malicious nature of 
 the populace, for when the fortunate and power- 
 ful fall, then the populace exults, and honours 
 Nemesis with a crown. The spear in her right 
 hand refers to those whom she strikes and trans- 
 fixes with it ; and to those whom she does not visit 
 w r ith calamity and misfortune, she nevertheless 
 shews that ill omened and dark vision which she 
 holds in her left hand : for beyond a doubt, to 
 those who are placed even at the summit of feli- 
 city, the thoughts do frequently occur of death and 
 disease, and misfortune, and the faithlessness of 
 friends, and the evil counsel of enemies, and simi- 
 lar evils ; as the iEthiops in the phial. Certainly 
 Virgil, in describing the battle of Actium, elegantly 
 adds concerning Cleopatra : 
 
 Regina in mediis ; patrio vocat agmina sistro, 
 Nee dum etiam geminos a tergo respicit angues. 
 
 But within a very short time, whichever way 
 she turned herself, whole armies of iEthiops ap- 
 peared before her. At the end it is wisely added, 
 that Nemesis sits on a stag ; since the stag is a 
 particularly vivacious animal, and it may perhaps 
 happen, that he who is snatched away by fate 
 young, overtakes and escapes from Nemesis ; but 
 he who obtains a lasting prosperity and power, 
 must doubtless at last be subjected to, and as it 
 were mounted by the goddess. 
 
299 
 
 XXIII. ACHELOUS, OR BATTLE. 
 
 THE ancients write, that when Hercules and 
 Achelous were contending for the hand of 
 Dejanira, their rivalry ended in a conflict, Ache- 
 lous, after trying his chance under various and 
 constantly changing forms, (for this he had power 
 to do) at length engaged with Hercules under the 
 form of a fierce and roaring bull, and prepared 
 himself for battle ; but Hercules, retaining his 
 wonted human figure, rushed upon him. After a 
 close fight, the end was, that Hercules broke off 
 one of the horns of the bull, who, hurt and terri- 
 fied to a great degree, in order to redeem his horn, 
 made over to Hercules by way of ransom the horn 
 of Amalthea, or of plenty. This fable pertains to 
 warlike expeditions. The preparations to war by 
 the defensive party (which is represented by 
 Achelous), are various and multiform ; for there 
 is one simple plan, and one only, for the invader's 
 force, which consists entirely of army or fleet, as 
 the case may be ; while the realm which expects 
 the enemy on her own soil, makes infinite efforts, 
 fortifies and dismantles her towns, collects her po- 
 pulation from the fields and villages into her cities 
 and forts, breaks down and pulls to pieces bridges, 
 prepares magazines and supplies, distributes them, 
 
300 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 busies herself in her rivers, harbours, ravines, 
 woods, and innumerable circumstances, so as to 
 put on every day a new face ; and when at last 
 she is abundantly fortified and prepared, she re- 
 presents to the life the figure and terrors of a pug- 
 nacious bull. He, on the other hand, who invades, 
 seeks occasions of battle, and presses for it as 
 much as possible, fearing want of supplies in a 
 foreign land ; if it should happen that he comes 
 off victor in battle, and breaks as it were the horn 
 of his enemy, he obtains this advantage : that the 
 enemy, oppressed with terror and diminished in 
 reputation, in order to put himself in order and 
 repair his forces, retires within his fortifications, 
 and leaves cities and provinces to be depopulated 
 and ravaged by the victor, which may be truly 
 welcomed equal in importance to that horn of 
 Amalthea. 
 
 XXIV. BACCHUS, OR PASSION. 
 
 THEY relate that Semele, the mistress of Jupi- 
 ter, having bound him by an inviolable oath 
 to grant her any boon that she might require, 
 asked that he would come to her embraces in such 
 form as he was wont to seek those of Juno. Thus 
 she perished in his lightnings. But the infant 
 whom she bore in her womb was taken up by his 
 
BACCHUS, OR PASSION. 301 
 
 father, and sewn into his thigh until the months 
 of gestation were completed, a burden which 
 caused Jupiter to limp not a little, on which ac- 
 count the boy, from having caused oppression and 
 pain to Jupiter while borne in his thigh, received 
 the name of Dionysus (Bacchus.) As soon as he 
 was brought forth he was committed to the charge 
 of Proserpine for some years ; but when grown up 
 he was seen to have an extremely feminine coun- 
 tenance, so that his sex seemed doubtful from his 
 appearance ; he also died and was buried for some 
 time, and revived within a short space. In his 
 earliest youth he discovered the cultivation of the 
 vine, and thence first taught the composition of 
 wine ; become by this means celebrated and re- 
 nowned, he conquered the whole world, and ex- 
 tended his victories as far as the extreme bounds 
 of India. He was borne in a car drawn by tigers ; 
 around him danced a troop of deformed dsemons, 
 called Cobali (Kobolds), Acratus, and by other 
 names. The Muses also added themselves to his 
 procession. He took for his wife Ariadne, who had 
 been deserted and left by Theseus. His sacred 
 tree was the ivy. He was also held to be the in- 
 ventor and constitutor of sacred rites and ceremo- 
 nies, but all of a fanatical nature, and full of per- 
 versions, and moreover of cruelty. He had also 
 the power of inflicting madness. In his orgies 
 celebrated by women agitated by frenzy, two illus- 
 trious men, Pentheus and Orpheus, are reported 
 
302 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 to have been torn to pieces, the one when he had 
 ascended a tree to become spectator of the rites 
 which were carried on, the other while he struck 
 his lyre ; and the actions of this god are frequently 
 confounded with those of Jupiter. 
 
 The fable appears to belong to ethical science, 
 and it is one than which nothing better can be 
 found in moral philosophy. Under the person of 
 Bacchus, the nature of Passion or Desire, and the 
 agitation caused by it is represented. Now the 
 mother of all Passion, even the most mischievous, 
 is no other than the appetite and desire of an ap- 
 parent good. Passion is always conceived in an 
 illicit wish, already rashly yielded to before it is 
 examined and understood. When once the desire 
 has begun to kindle, its mother (the Nature of 
 Good) is destroyed, and perishes in the conflagra- 
 tion; and while passion is immature, it is both 
 brought up and concealed in the human soul, 
 (which is its producer, and is represented by Ju- 
 piter), especially in the inferior portion of the 
 soul (as in the thigh), where it pricks, agitates, 
 and oppresses the soul, so that its steps and actions 
 become halt and impotent. Even when it hath 
 been confirmed by consent and habit, and breaks 
 forth into action, it is nevertheless educated until 
 its time by Proserpine, that is, it seeks hiding 
 places, and exists clandestinely, and as it were 
 under the earth, until, throwing off the reins of 
 shame and fear, and endowed with full grown vio- 
 
BACCHUS, OR PASSION. 303 
 
 lence, it either assumes the pretext of some virtue, 
 or despises all infamy. It is also very true, that 
 every vehement passion is as it were of doubtful 
 sex, for it has the violence of man combined with 
 the impotence of woman. It is also excellently 
 added, that Bacchus is revived after death, for 
 our passions appear sometimes to be set to sleep 
 and extinguished ; but we must not trust them 
 even when buried, since when matter and occasion 
 are afforded they rise again. The invention of the 
 vine is a wise allegory, for every passion is inge- 
 nious and sagacious in seeking out for objects to 
 inflame it, and above all things discovered by 
 man, wine is the most powerful and efficacious to 
 inflame and excite perturbations of every descrip- 
 tion, and acts as a common provocation to all of 
 them. Passion is also elegantly described as a 
 conqueror of provinces, and engages in endless 
 enterprises, for it is never content with what it 
 has acquired, but presses onwards with infinite and 
 insatiable appetite, and aims at new conquests. 
 Tigers too are nourished by the passions, and 
 yoked to their car ; for when once a passion has 
 become a rider instead of a pedestrian, and ap- 
 peared the conqueror and triumphant adversary of 
 reason, it is savage, indomitable, and unmerciful 
 against every thing w T hich opposes or checks it. 
 It is wittily said, that those comic dsemons dance 
 around this car ; for every passion cause th inde- 
 corous, unmeasured, ridiculous, and disgraceful 
 
304 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 motions in the eyes, countenance, and action. 
 Thus he who, under the influence of any passion, 
 as Love or Pride, appears to himself grand and 
 magnificent, is to others deformed and ridiculous. 
 The muses also are beheld among the company of 
 passion, for there is scarcely any passion to be 
 found to which some science does not make itself 
 subservient ; for in this the license of men's wits 
 diminishes the majesty of the muses ; in that they 
 who should be the guides of life, become the fol- 
 lowers of passion. It is also a very noble alle- 
 gory, that Bacchus pours forth his love on her 
 who has been deserted by another, for it is most 
 certain that passion desires and covets that which 
 experience has repudiated ; and let all know, who, 
 indulging and meanly serving their own appetites, 
 raise to unmeasured honours the object they wish 
 to enjoy, be it honour, or fortune, or love, or glory, 
 or wisdom, or what else they will, that they are 
 seeking after cast off things, a leaving of those 
 who through all ages have been satiated and dis- 
 gusted with them after full experiment. The de- 
 dication of the ivy to Bacchus is also not without 
 a mystery. For this agrees in two senses ; first, 
 because the ivy is green in winter, second, because 
 it creeps, twines, and raises itself round so many 
 objects, trees, walls, and buildings. For the first, 
 every passion flourishes and acquires vigour by 
 resistance and impediment, as the ivy in the frosts 
 of winter. For the second, the predominant pas- 
 
BACCHUS, OR PASSION. 305 
 
 sion, like ivy, twines itself around all human ac- 
 tions and human decisions, adds, unites, and mixes 
 itself with them. Nor is it wonderful that super- 
 stitious rites are attributed to Bacchus, since al- 
 most every bad passion luxuriates in depraved 
 superstitions : or that madness is said to be caused 
 by him, since every passion is not only itself a 
 short madness, but if it besieges and presses its 
 possessor with its utmost vehemence, terminates in 
 insanity. The story of the fate of Pentheus and 
 Orpheus has an evident signification : namely, 
 that passion when too powerful is a bitter enemy 
 both to meddling curiosity, and to free and whole- 
 some admonition. Finally, the confusion of the 
 persons of Bacchus and Jove may be rightly drawn 
 to an allegory ; since noble and renowned actions, 
 and illustrious and glorious deserts, although 
 equally honoured with fame and praise, may some- 
 times proceed from virtue and reason, sometimes 
 from hidden passion and secret appetite, so that it 
 is not easy to distinguish the actions of Bacchus 
 from the actions of Jupiter. 
 
 XXV. ATALANTA, OR GAIN. • 
 
 ATALANTA, excelling in swiftness, chal- 
 lenged Hippomenes to a trial of the course. 
 The conditions of the contest were, that Hippo- 
 menes, if victor, should wed Atalanta, if conquered, 
 x 
 
306 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 should die. And no doubt appeared as to the victory, 
 since the insuperable excellence of Atalanta in the 
 course had been rendered illustrious by the death 
 of many. Hippomenes, therefore, had recourse to 
 stratagem. He prepared three golden apples, and 
 kept them about him. The contest began : Ata- 
 lanta passed him ; he, seeing himself left behind, 
 not unmindful of his art, threw down one of his 
 golden apples before the sight of Atalanta, not in 
 the straight way, but on one side, so that it might 
 both delay her and lead her out of the path. She, 
 incited by female cupidity, or by the beauty of the 
 apple, leaving the course, ran after the apple, and 
 bent to pick it up : Hippomenes, in the mean- 
 while, passed over no small space of the course, 
 and left her behind him ; yet she, by her natural 
 swiftness, recovered her loss of time, and again 
 overtook him : but when Hippomenes had the 
 second and third time caused her the same delay, 
 he came off conqueror at length, by cunning and 
 not by excellence. 
 
 This Fable appears to contain a notable allegory 
 of the contest between art and nature. For art, 
 represented by Atalanta, if there be no obstacle or 
 impediment, is far more acute than nature, and, as 
 it were, swifter in the course, and reaches sooner 
 its goal. For this appears in almost all its effects : 
 we see that fruit rises slowly from the kernel, 
 quickly from planting : we see that earth hardens 
 slowly in petrifaction, quickly in brickmaking. 
 
ATALANTA, OR GAIN. 307 
 
 Even in moral science, length of time, as it were 
 by the favour of nature, brings slowly on forge t- 
 fulness and comfort in evils : while Philosophy, 
 which is the art of living, does not wait the course 
 of time, but overtakes it, and acts in its place. 
 But this prerogative and excellence of art, to the 
 infinite detriment of human affairs, is counteracted 
 by the golden apples : nor do we find a single art 
 or science which carries on its true and legitimate 
 course without ceasing till it reach its object, 
 which is as the goal of its labours ; but all the arts 
 leave off what they have begun, and desert their 
 course, and turn aside, like Atalanta, to gain and 
 utility. 
 
 Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit. 
 Therefore, we must not wonder if art does not 
 attain to the conquest of nature, and to her over- 
 throw and destruction, according to the compact 
 and law of the contest : but the opposite takes 
 place, and art is under the power of nature, and 
 obeys it as a married woman her husband. 
 
 XXVI. PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE 
 OF MAN. 
 
 THE ancient tradition is, that man was the crea- 
 tion of Prometheus, and made of earth, ex- 
 cept inasmuch as Prometheus mixed with the mass 
 certain particles from different animals. He, wish- 
 
308 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 ing to maintain his own work by his own benefits, 
 and to appear not only as the founder of the human 
 race, but as its exalter, ascended clandestinely to 
 Heaven, bearing* combustibles with him on a rod, 
 which he lit by applying them to the chariot of 
 the sun, and thus brought down fire to earth, and 
 communicated it to man. For this great favour 
 of Prometheus, men appear to have been little 
 grateful ; on the contrary, they conspired against 
 him, and accused him and his invention at the tri- 
 bunal of Jupiter. This complaint appears not to 
 have been received as justice required ; for the 
 accusation was too pleasing to Jupiter and the 
 gods themselves. Therefore, for the pleasure they 
 received, they not only allowed the use of fire to 
 mortals, but conferred on them also a new gift, 
 the most acceptable and delightful of any, namely, 
 perpetual youth. In their pride and folly, men 
 placed the gift of the gods on an ass. The ass on 
 his return was labouring under great and vehement 
 thirst: and when he reached the brink of a foun- 
 tain, a serpent, who was placed as the guardian of 
 the spring, refused to let him drink, unless on con- 
 dition of receiving whatever the animal carried on 
 its back. The wretched ass accepted the condi- 
 tions, and in this manner the power of perpetually 
 renewing youth, for the price of a little draught of 
 water, passed from men to serpents. But Pro- 
 metheus, not relinquishing his craft, and being 
 reconciliated with men after their loss of this gift, 
 
PHOMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAX. 309 
 
 but retaining* an exasperated passion against Jupi- 
 ter, dared to employ his cunning even in a sacri- 
 fice. He is said to have immolated two bulls to 
 Jupiter, in such fashion, that the flesh and fat of 
 both were inserted into the hide of one, and the 
 skin of the other stuffed out only with the bones 
 and then, like a religious and well-intentioned 
 man, gave Jupiter his choice between them. — 
 Jupiter, detesting his cunning and bad faith, but 
 looking for occasion to revenge himself on him, 
 chose the counterfeit bull ; and, being inflamed 
 with the desire of vengeance, conceiving* that he 
 could not repress the insolence of Prometheus, ex- 
 cept by afflicting the race of man (by whose crea- 
 tion Prometheus was made proud and amazingly 
 elated), he commanded Vulcan to form a beautiful 
 lovely woman, on whom also each of the gods con- 
 ferred a peculiar gift, on which account she was 
 called Pandora. In the hands of this woman they 
 placed an elegant box, in which they had inclosed 
 all kinds of evils and troubles ; but hope remained 
 lying at the bottom of the box. She, with her 
 charge, first betook herself to Prometheus, tempt- 
 ing him, to induce him to receive and open it? 
 which he was cautious and crafty enough to reject. 
 Repulsed from him, she turned to Epimetheus, 
 brother to Prometheus, but of a very different dis- 
 position. He, without delay, opened rashly the 
 box ; and when he saw all those innumerable evils 
 flying from it, too late made sensible of his error, 
 
310 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 he hurried and pressed to place the cover upon the 
 box again, but with difficulty preserved hope, the 
 last and lowest of its contents. Finally, Jupiter 
 laying to Prometheus' charge many and heavy 
 grievances, that he had formerly stolen fire from 
 Heaven ; that he had mocked the majesty of Jupi- 
 ter in his counterfeit sacrifice ; and that he had 
 despised his gift; adding, also, a new accusation, 
 that he had attempted to ravish Pallas ; threw him 
 into chains, and condemned him to perpetual tor- 
 ments. By the command of Jupiter, he was brought 
 to Mount Caucasus, and there bound to a column, 
 so that he could in no wise move himself : an eagle 
 was set by him, which in the day tore and devoured 
 his liver with his beak, while in the night as much 
 as had been eaten grew again, so that there never 
 was wanting matter for the torture. They say, 
 however, that these sufferings were at last termi- 
 nated ; for Hercules, in the cup which he had re- 
 ceived from the Sun, having sailed over the ocean, 
 arrived at Caucasus, and freed Prometheus, by 
 piercing the eagle with his arrows. There were 
 instituted among certain nations races of lamp- 
 bearers, in honour of Prometheus, in which the 
 runners carried lighted torches ; if those chanced 
 to be extinguished, they yielded the victory to 
 those who followed them, and retired from the 
 course : and he at last received the palm who was 
 the first to bring his torch lighted as far as the 
 goal. 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR- THE STATE OF MAN. 311 
 
 This fable both presents and conceals many true 
 and weighty contemplations ; some of them have 
 been already rightly treated of, others remain en- 
 tirely untouched. By Prometheus, Providence is 
 clearly and manifestly indicated. And among all 
 the contents of the universe, the constitution and 
 fabric of man has been chosen and related by the 
 ancients, to be attributed to Providence as its pro- 
 per work. Of this, not only appears to be cause of 
 the opinion which man by nature conceives, that 
 mind and intellect appear to be the seat of Provi- 
 dence, and that it seems difficult and incredible to 
 deduce and produce reason and mind from brute 
 and irrational principles ; so that it is concluded of 
 necessity, that Providence (or foresight) could not 
 be implanted in the human soul without some ideal 
 pattern and some act of the will, and authority 
 of a higher Providence. The following also is 
 plainly proposed : that man is as it were the centre 
 of the universe, with relation to final causes, so 
 that if man be removed from nature, all other 
 things appear to fluctuate in endless error, and to 
 be as it is called deprived of their tendency, and 
 left without a scope to seek. For all things are 
 subservient to man, and he draws forth and enjoys 
 use and pleasure from each of them. The revolu- 
 tions and periods of the stars apply both to the 
 division of time and to the distribution of climates. 
 Celestial appearances are employed for prognos- 
 tics of weather, winds for navigation, for mills and 
 
312 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 machines, plants and animals of every descrip- 
 tion, either for the houses and shelters of men, or 
 for their garments, or their food, or their medi- 
 cine, or to lighten their labours, or to delight and 
 solace them, so that every thing appears not to 
 act for its own utility, but for that of man. Nor 
 is it without meaning added, that in that mass and 
 composition, particles were taken from divers 
 animals, and tempered and mixed with the earth ; 
 since it is most true that of all things which the 
 universe contains, man is the most complex and 
 compound, so that he w T as not without reason 
 called by the ancients a lesser world. For although 
 the chymists have too absurdly and literally taken, 
 and perverted, the elegance of the word Micro- 
 cosm, where they suppose that in man there is 
 found every mineral, every vegetable, and all things 
 else, or something answering to them, ; neverthe- 
 less, what we have said remains sound and true, 
 that the human body is of all creatures the most 
 compound and the most organized, whence it pos- 
 sesses and acquires wonderful virtues and facul- 
 ties ; for the powers of simple bodies are few, 
 although sure and quick in action, because least 
 impeded, diminished, and balanced by mixture ; 
 but quantity and excellence of virtue most exists 
 in mixture and composition. And nevertheless 
 man appears in his original to be an unarmed and 
 helpless creature, slow to aid itself, and in want 
 of almost every thing. Therefore Prometheus 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 313 
 
 made haste to invent fire, which supplies and ad- 
 ministers ease and assistance to almost all the 
 necessities and actions of man ; so that if the soul 
 be the form of forms, the hand the instrument of 
 instruments, fire deserves to be called the aid of 
 aids and the help of helps. For now this all in- 
 dustry, all mechanical art, all science itself re- 
 ceives assistance in innumerable ways. The 
 manner of the theft of fire is aptly described, and 
 according to the nature of the reality. It is said 
 to have been accomplished by a rod communicat- 
 ing with a tube, applied to the car of the sun. 
 For the rod used for striking and giving blows, is 
 clearly added in order to represent with elegance, 
 that the generation of fire takes place by violent 
 percussion and collision of bodies, by which the 
 matter is attenuated and put in motion, and pre- 
 pared for the reception of celestial heat : thus 
 they draw down and snatch secretly, and as it 
 were furtively, fire as from the car of the sun. 
 What follows is a striking part of the parable. 
 Men, instead of returning thanks and gratitude 
 for the action, turned to indignation and com- 
 plaint, and brought accusation both against Pro- 
 metheus and against fire, a conduct which was 
 very acceptable to Jupiter, so that in return for it 
 he increased the blessings of man with added 
 munificence. Whence arose this approbation and 
 reward of the accusation brought by an ungrateful 
 spirit (which embraces almost every vice) against 
 
314 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 its author? The story appears to have another 
 meaning. This is the intention of the allegory : 
 that the accusations brought by man against both 
 his nature and his accomplishments proceed from 
 an excellent state of mind, and produce good ef- 
 fects, the contrary is unacceptable to the gods and 
 unprosperous. For those who immeasurably extol 
 the nature of man and the arts which he has re- 
 ceived, and in their profuse admiration of such 
 things as they have and possess, and in such 
 sciences as they profess or cultivate, think they 
 should be deemed to have reached perfection ; 
 these are, first, irreverent towards the Divine 
 Nature, to the perfection of which they pretend 
 to equalize their own possessions ; and they are 
 also barren of utility to men, since they think that 
 they have already reached the summit of all things, 
 and, as having done every thing possible, seek to 
 go no further. On the other hand, those who 
 depart from and accuse nature and art, and are 
 full of complaints, then in truth both possess a 
 more modest turn of mind, and are perpetually 
 incited to new industry and new discoveries. 
 Whence I am more inclined to admire the igno- 
 rance and evil genius of men, who, domineered 
 over like slaves by the arrogance of a few, hold in 
 such veneration that philosophy of the Peripate- 
 tics, a part only and no great one of the wisdom 
 of the Greeks, that they have rendered all incul- 
 pation of it not only useless, but suspected and 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 315 
 
 dangerous to the author. And Empedocles, who 
 complains like a madman, and Democritus, who 
 complains with great modesty, that every thing is 
 a mystery, that we know nothing, that we see no- 
 thing, that truth is sunk in deep wells, that false- 
 hood is wondrously intermingled and entwined 
 with truth ; both (for the later Academy went en- 
 tirely beyond bounds in this matter) are more to 
 be approved of than the confident and dogmatical 
 school of Aristotle. Therefore men are to be ad- 
 monished, that such informations against nature 
 and art are agreeable to the gods, and elicit new 
 alms and new gifts from the Divine goodness ; and 
 that the accusation of Prometheus, although their 
 creator and master, and that vehemently and 
 eagerly urged, is more wholesome and useful than 
 profuse gratitude ; and in fine, that opinion of 
 wealth must be reckoned among the chiefest 
 causes of poverty. With regard to the nature of 
 the gift which men are said to have received as a 
 reward for their accusation, (namely, the preser- 
 vation of youth from decay) we should be led to 
 imagine from it, that the ancients did not despair 
 of discovering methods and medicines for the de- 
 laying of old age and prolongation of life ; but 
 that they rather accounted them to be of those 
 things, which, although once received by man, 
 have been since lost by his carelessness and neg- 
 ligence, or made of no account than of such as 
 have been entirely denied and never granted to 
 
316 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 him. For they signify and hint that, by the right 
 use of fire, and by zealous and strenuous accusa- 
 tion and conviction of the errors of art, the divine 
 munificence did not desert men in granting them 
 this favour, but that they deserted themselves 
 when they placed this gift of the gods on a slow 
 and sluggish ass ; since experience appears to be a 
 tardy and stupid guide, from the slow and tortoise- 
 like step of which arose that ancient complaint of 
 the shortness of life and length of art. And cer- 
 tainly it is our opinion that those two faculties, 
 the dogmatical and empirical (science of generals 
 and particulars) have not yet been well united and 
 conjoined ; but that the recently received gift of 
 the gods was entrusted either to abstract philoso- 
 phers, like giddy birds, or to slow and tardy ex- 
 perience, figured by the ass. Yet we may augur 
 well of that ass, unless the accident of thirst on 
 the road intervenes. For we suppose, that if any 
 man does constantly fight under the banners of 
 experience, as by certain rule and method, and 
 does not on his way thirst for experiments which 
 apply only to profit or to ostentation : so that to 
 try these he lays down and throws aside his bur- 
 den ; such a man would be no improper convey- 
 ance for the new and added munificence of Heaven. 
 That the gift passed to serpents appears to be an 
 addition to the fable for the sake of ornament, 
 unless it be perhaps inserted that men may be 
 ashamed, that they, with their fire and their nu- 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 317 
 
 merous arts, cannot transfer those powers to them- 
 selves which nature has freely afforded to nume- 
 rous other animals. 
 
 The sudden reconciliation also of men with Pro- 
 metheus, after they had failed in their hopes, con- 
 tains a useful and sage admonition. It marks the 
 levity and rashness of mankind in attempting* new 
 experiments : for, if these do not immediately suc- 
 ceed, and answer their wishes, men desert their 
 undertakings with hurried celerity, and recur with 
 precipitation to their old ways, and are reconciliated 
 to them. Having described the state of man with 
 reference to arts and intellect, the parable passes 
 over to religion : for the cultivation of divine things 
 has accompanied that of the arts, and has been 
 immediately perverted and abased by hypocrisy. 
 Therefore, under that double sacrifice, the persons 
 of the truly religious man and the hypocrite are 
 elegantly represented. In the one is the fat, the 
 portion of God, on account of its inflammability 
 and odour, by which affection and burning zeal for 
 the glory of God, which aspires after the highest, 
 is signified ; in it are the bowels of charity, and 
 the wholesome and useful flesh. In the other no- 
 thing is found but dry and naked bones, which, 
 nevertheless, stuff out the skin, and counterfeit a 
 beautiful and magnificent victim; by which are 
 rightly designated external and empty rites and 
 vain sacrifices, with which men load and swell the 
 worship of God, things rather composed for osten- 
 
318 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 tation than tending to piety. Nor are men con- 
 tented with offering this sort of mockery to God, 
 unless they impose them upon him and impute 
 them to him, as if he had himself chosen and pre- 
 scribed them. The prophet,, under the person of 
 God, expostulates against this sort of option : " Is 
 this that fast which I have chosen, that man 
 should afflict his soul for one day, and bend down 
 his head like a bulrush ?" After the state of reli- 
 gion, the parable turns to morals, and to the lot of 
 human life. It is the common interpretation, and 
 yet the true one, that by Pandora are signified 
 pleasure and desires, which, after the arts, and 
 cultivation, and luxury of civilized life (as after 
 the gift of fire),. also existed. Thus the fabrication 
 of pleasure is deputed to Vulcan, who, in the same 
 way, signifies fire. From pleasure infinite evils, 
 together with late repentance, have flowed into the 
 minds, bodies, and fortunes of men, and not only 
 into the conditions of individuals, but into king- 
 doms and commonwealths also. For from the 
 same fountain, wars, and tumults, and tyrannies, 
 have drawn their source. It is also worth while 
 to remark, how beautifully and elegantly the fable 
 has depicted the two conditions of human life, as 
 in pictures or models, under the persons of Pro- 
 metheus and Epimetheus. For those who follow the 
 sect of Epimetheus, being improvident, and never 
 consulting for distant futurity, consider as first 
 those things which are at the time pleasant, and 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 319 
 
 are on this account oppressed with many straits, 
 difficulties, and calamities, and hold perpetual con- 
 flict with them ; yet sometimes they appease their 
 genius, and, moreover, from their inexperience of 
 life, revolve many empty hopes in their mind, with 
 which, as with pleasant dreams, they delight them- 
 selves, and season the miseries of their life. But 
 the school of Prometheus, composed of men pru- 
 dent and provident of the future, cautiously remove 
 and reject many evils and misfortunes : but at the 
 same time they deprive themselves of many plea- 
 sures and various delights, arising from circum- 
 stances, and defraud their genius ; and, which is 
 much worse, torment and destroy themselves with 
 cares and anxieties, and internal fears. Bound to 
 the column of necessity, they are harassed with 
 innumerable thoughts, which, from their swiftness, 
 are designated by the eagle, and those piercing 
 ones, and consuming the liver ; unless at intervals, 
 and as it were by night, they find some little re- 
 mission and quiet for their soul, although that new 
 anxieties and new fears are constantly returning. 
 Therefore, to very few of either description does 
 the happiness accrue, of retaining the benefits of 
 providence, and at the same time freeing them- 
 selves from anxieties and painful perturbations : 
 nor can any one attain this except by means of 
 Hercules, that is of fortitude and constancy, which, 
 prepared for every event, and equally ready for 
 every lot, looks forward without fear, enjoys with- 
 
320 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 out satiety, and endures without impatience. And 
 this is well worthy of remark, that this virtue was 
 not innate in Prometheus, but adventitious, and 
 procured by foreign assistance : for no in-born 
 and natural fortitude is sufficient for such achieve- 
 ments. But this virtue was received and brought 
 from the furthest ocean, and from the sun : for it 
 springs from wisdom, as from the sun, and from 
 meditation on the inconstancy and fluctuation of 
 human life, as from navigation of the ocean : 
 which two are well united by Virgil : 
 
 Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas ; 
 Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum, 
 Subjecit pedibus, strep itumque Acherontis avari. 
 
 It is added, with great elegance, to console and 
 strengthen the minds of men, that this mighty 
 hero sailed in a cup or urceus, in order that they 
 may not too much fear and allege the narrowness 
 of their nature and its frailty: as if it were not 
 capable of such fortitude and constancy ; of which 
 very thing Seneca argued well, when he said, 
 " It is a great thing to have at the same time the 
 frailty of a man and the security of a God." But 
 we must now return to that which we purposely 
 passed over, not to break the connexion of events, 
 that is, the latest accusation against Prometheus, 
 that he had attempted the chastity of Minerva. 
 For it was for this most heinous and heavy crime, 
 also, that he suffered the punishment of the lace- 
 ration of his entrails. This appears to signify 
 
PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. 321 
 
 nothing else, than that men, inflated with their 
 powers, and the extent of their science, too fre- 
 quently attempt to subject divine wisdom also to 
 their senses and reason; whence most certainly 
 follows laceration of the mind, and perpetual and 
 unquiet excitement. Thus with sober and submis- 
 sive mind, we must distinguish between human 
 and divine things, and the oracles of sense, and 
 those of faith, unless perchance both an heretical 
 religion, and a falsified philosophy, are after the 
 hearts of men. The last which remains is, to con- 
 sider the games ascribed to Prometheus, performed 
 with burning torches. This again refers to arts 
 and sciences, as does that fire to the memory and 
 celebration of which these games were instituted, 
 and contains an advice, and that a most prudent 
 one : That the perfection of science is to be ex- 
 pected from succession, not from the quickness 
 or powers of any individual. For those w r ho are 
 swiftest and strongest in the race and contest, are, 
 perhaps, the very men least able to keep their 
 torches lighted, since the danger of its extinction 
 equally attends on rapid course and on a too slow 
 one. But these races and contests of torch-bearers 
 appear to have long ceased, and to have flourished 
 most with certain authors of science, with Aristotle, 
 Galen, Euclid, Ptolemy; and succession has effected 
 nothing great, and scarcely even attempted it. 
 And it were to be wished that these games, in 
 honour of Prometheus or human nature, were re- 
 Y 
 
322 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 stored, and that the interests of science were pro- 
 moted by competition and emulation, and happy 
 fortune, and did not hang on the flickering" and 
 unsteady torch of any one man. Thus men are to 
 be admonished to awake themselves, and dare to 
 try their powers and their fortunes also, and not 
 place everything in the souls and brains of a few 
 men. These are the notions which appear to us 
 to be shadowed out in this well known and hack- 
 neyed fable : yet we will not deny, that there may 
 be certain foundations to it, which hint at the mys- 
 teries of the Christian religion with wonderful 
 analogy ; above all, the navigation of Hercules in 
 the urceus to liberate Prometheus, appears to pre- 
 sent an image of the Word of God hastening to 
 the redemption of mankind in the flesh, as in some 
 frail vessel. But we spontaneously interdict our- 
 selves from all license in this line, lest, perchance, 
 we use strange fire at the altar of the Lord. 
 
 XXVII. SCYLLA AND ICARUS, OR THE 
 MIDDLE WAY. 
 
 MEDIOCRITY, or the middle way, is in 
 morals the most praiseworthy, in intellec- 
 tuals less celebrated, but not less useful and good ; 
 in politics only doubtful, and to be applied with 
 judgment. Mediocrity in morals is noted by the 
 ancients, by the way prescribed to Icarus ; in in- 
 
SCYLLA AND ICARUS. 323 
 
 tellectuals, by that between Scylla and Charybdis, 
 celebrated for its difficulties and dangers. Icarus 
 was admonished by his father, on undertaking to fly 
 over the sea, to guard against a too high or too low 
 track : for, as his wings were glued with wax, if 
 he let himself be borne too high, there was danger 
 lest the wax should melt by the heat of the sun ; 
 if he let himself down too near the vapour rising 
 from the sea, lest the wax should become less solid 
 by the humidity. He, however, with youthful 
 daring, strove to reach higher, and fell down head- 
 long. This parable is simple and well known. For 
 the path of virtue lies open straight between excess 
 and defect. Nor is it to be wondered at, that 
 Icarus perished by excess. For excess is usually 
 the vice of youth, defect that of old age : yet, of 
 two bad and dangerous paths he chose the better : 
 for the defects are reckoned the most depraved ; 
 since in excess there is some magnanimity shewn, 
 and some affinity to heaven, as in a bird : defect 
 crawls on the ground like a reptile. Therefore, 
 Heraclitus well said, "A dry light is the best soul." 
 For if the soul contracts humidity from the earth, 
 it entirely degenerates ; while, on the other hand 
 measure must be kept, that its light become more 
 subtle by that praiseworthy dryness, and that it be 
 not caught in conflagration. These things are 
 known to almost all. But the road between Scylla 
 and Charybdis doth certainly require both skill and 
 good fortune in sailing. For if the ships fall on 
 
324 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, 
 
 Scylla, they are dashed to pieces on the rocks ; if 
 on Charybdis, they are swallowed up. Of which 
 parable this appears to be the force (which we will 
 briefly touch on, although it draws after it endless 
 contemplation), that in all doctrine and science, 
 and in their rules and axioms, measure must be 
 preserved between the rocks of Distinction and 
 the whirlpools of Universals. For these two are 
 infamous for the destruction of wit and science. 
 
 XXVIII. SPHINX, OR SCIENCE. 
 
 THE Sphinx is reported to have been a mon- 
 ster of a compounded form, with the face and 
 voice of a virgin, the wings of a bird, the talons 
 of a gryphon. She occupied the declivity of a hill 
 in the Theban country, and obstructed the way. 
 Her custom was to attack travellers from ambush 
 and seize on them, and having reduced them un- 
 der her power, she proposed to them certain ob- 
 scure and perplexed enigmas, which were believed 
 to have been given her and received from the 
 muses. These if the wretched captives could not 
 unriddle or interpret, in the midst of their hesita- 
 tion and confusion she tore them to pieces with 
 great ferocity. As this plague was reaching a 
 great height, a reward was proposed by the The- 
 bans (the monarchy of Thebes itself) to tbe man 
 
SPHINX, OR SCIENCE. 325 
 
 who should be able to explain the enigmas of the 
 Sphinx ; for there was no other way to overcome 
 her. GEdipus, a man of talent and prudence, but 
 with lame and perforated feet, stimulated by such 
 a prize, accepted the condition, and resolved to 
 attempt the adventure. Then, confident and full 
 of heart, he presented himself before the Sphinx. 
 She demanded of him, what was that animal, 
 which, born at first with four feet, afterwards be- 
 came two-footed, then three-footed, and finally 
 four-footed again. He with great presence of 
 mind answered, that the riddle related to man, 
 who at first birth and in infancy rolls like a quad- 
 ruped, and scarcely tries to crawl ; in no long 
 time walks erect and with two feet, in old age 
 leans on a stick, when a decrepit old man his 
 nerves failing him, lies down on four feet, and is 
 fastened to his bed. Thus having obtained victory 
 by a true answer, he killed the Sphinx, whose 
 body he placed on an ass, and led it about as in 
 triumph, and was himself created King of the 
 Thebans according to compact. This fable is 
 elegant, and not less prudent, and appears to have 
 been framed of science, and especially of that 
 united with practice. Since science may be called 
 a monster not absurdly, since to the ignorant and 
 unskilful it is an object of wonder. It is com- 
 pounded in figure and appearance, on account of 
 the immense variety of the subjects with which 
 science is conversant ; its voice and countenance 
 
326 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 are represented as those of a woman, on account 
 of its beauty and eloquence; wings are added, 
 because the sciences and their inventions are 
 spread and fly in a moment, the communication 
 of science being" as that of light from light, which 
 is kindled in an instant. With great elegance 
 sharp and crooked talons are attributed to it, be- 
 cause the axioms and arguments of science pene- 
 trate the mind, and seize and hold it, so that it 
 cannot move and glide away. Which the sacred 
 philosopher also has noted: The words of the wise 
 (he says) are like goads, and nails driven deep. 
 All science, again, appears placed on the lofty 
 and steep parts of mountains. For it is deservedly 
 esteemed a sublime and lofty thing, and looks 
 down on ignorance as from an elevated spot, and 
 moreover, hath a wide prospect on every side, as 
 is usual on the tops of mountains. Science is 
 also feigned to obstruct the mountain roads, be- 
 cause in that journey or travel of human life, 
 matter and opportunity of contemplation presses 
 itself on us, and every where meets us. The 
 Sphinx proposed various and difficult questions 
 to mortals, which it has learnt from the muses. 
 These, as long as they remain with the muses, 
 are perhaps void of severity. For while there is 
 no other end of meditation and disquisition than 
 simple knowledge, the intellect is not oppressed 
 and cramped, but spreads itself and wanders, and 
 at that very doubt and variety feels no small plea- 
 
SPHINX, OR SCIENCE. 327 
 
 sure and delight; but as soon as these enigmas 
 are transmitted by the muses to the Sphinx, that 
 is, to practice, when action and choice and will 
 press on and compel us, then they begin to be 
 grievous and irksome, and unless they are solved 
 and ended, they wonderfully torment and vex the 
 human mind, and distract it every way, and may 
 be said to tear it. Therefore in the enigmas of 
 the Sphinx there is always a double condition pro- 
 posed : to the unsuccessful torment of mind, to 
 the successful empire. For he who is master of 
 his subject obtains his end, and every artificer 
 rules his own workmanship. There are two ge- 
 neral kinds of the enigmas of the Sphinx, riddles 
 on the nature of things, and riddles on the nature 
 of man, and in the same manner two kinds of em- 
 pire reward the solution, empire over nature and 
 empire over man. But the natural and proper 
 ultimate end of true philosophy is, empire over 
 natural things, over bodies, medicines, mechani- 
 cal powers, and other infinite things ; although 
 the school, content with what is offered it, and 
 swelling with mere words, neglects and almost 
 casts aside things and experiments. Now the 
 enigma which was proposed to GEdipus, by which 
 he obtained the government of Thebes, related to 
 the nature of man ; for whoever has thoroughly 
 examined the nature of man, he may be in a man- 
 ner the artificer of his own fortune, and is born for 
 
328 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 empire. As was well written of the arts of the 
 Romans : 
 
 Tu regere imperio populos, Romane , memento ; 
 Hae tibi erunt artes. 
 
 Therefore it is a remarkable coincidence, that 
 Augustus Caesar used the emhlem of the Sphinx, 
 whether intentionally or gratuitously. For he, if 
 ever any man did, most surely excelled in the art 
 of government, and in the course of his life 
 solved happily many new enigmas of the nature of 
 man, which if he had not been dexterous and 
 ready in solving, he would many times have been 
 not far from imminent perdition and ruin. It is 
 added also in the fable, that the body of the con- 
 quered Sphinx was placed on an ass ; and with 
 great elegance, since nothing is so acute and ab- 
 struse but that when once it is fully understood 
 and made public, it may be trusted even to a slug- 
 gish one. Nor must we pass over that the Sphinx 
 was subdued by a lame man, for men are wont to 
 hurry to the enigmas of the Sphinx with too swift 
 and rapid a pace ; whence it arises, that the Sphinx 
 being too strong for them, they rather tear their 
 minds and faculties by disputation, than govern 
 by acts and effect. 
 
329 
 
 XXIX. PROSERPINE, OR SPIRIT. 
 
 THEY relate that Pluto, after having received 
 the government of the infernal regions by 
 that memorable partition, despaired of obtaining 
 in marriage any of the divinities, should he try to 
 win them by address and pleasant manners, so 
 that it was necessary for him to direct his thoughts 
 to ravishment. Therefore, having watched his 
 opportunity, with a sudden assault he carried off 
 Proserpine, the daughter of Ceres, a most beauti- 
 ful virgin, while she was collecting the flowers of 
 narcissus in the fields of Sicily, and hore her 
 with him to the infernal regions in his car, where 
 great reverence was paid her, so that she was 
 called Queen of Dis. But Ceres her mother, when 
 her only beloved daughter was nowhere to be 
 found, sorrowful and anxious above measure, at 
 length, bearing in her hand a lighted torch, tra- 
 versed the whole circumference of the earth, to 
 search for and recover her daughter. When this 
 was all in vain, having received by chance infor- 
 mation that she had been carried into the infernal 
 regions, she wearied Jove with constant tears and 
 lamentations, that she might be restored to her. 
 And at length she obtained, that if Proserpine had 
 not tasted any thing which was found in the in- 
 
330 wisdom or the ancients. 
 
 femal regions, she should be allowed to bring her 
 away. This condition was adverse to the wishes of 
 the mother ; for Proserpine was discovered to have 
 tasted three grains of a pomegranate. Nor did 
 Ceres cease upon this to resume her prayers and 
 lamentations. At length therefore it was allowed 
 her, that Proserpine at different seasons and by 
 turns, should remain six months with her husband, 
 the other six with her mother. This Proserpine, 
 Theseus and Pirithous afterwards with singular 
 daring attempted to tear away from the couch of 
 Pluto ; but having sat down, wearied in their 
 journey, on a stone in the infernal regions, they 
 had not the power to rise, but was left sitting for 
 ever. Proserpine, therefore, remained Queen of 
 the infernal regions, to whose honour also a great 
 privilege was added : that, although it was impos- 
 sible for those who had descended to those regions 
 to return again, a single exception was added to 
 this law, that if any one should bring to Proserpine 
 for a gift the golden bough, he might for this 
 purpose go and return. That single bough was 
 in a great and thick grove, and was not a tree, 
 but grew like a graft on another stick, and when 
 torn away, another did not fail to follow. 
 
 This fable appears to relate to nature, and to 
 that rich and fruitful power and quality in the 
 subterraneous parts, by which our productions are 
 made to grow, and into which they again are re- 
 solved and return. By Proserpine the ancients 
 
PROSERPINE, OR SPIRIT. 331 
 
 signified that ethereal spirit which is torn from the 
 surface of the globe, and shut up and confined 
 under the earth (represented by Pluto), which the 
 poet has not ill expressed : 
 
 Sive recens tellus, seductaque nuper ab alto 
 ^Ethere, cognati retinebat semina coeli. 
 
 That spirit is said to be ravished by the Earth, 
 because it is impossible to constrain it, where time 
 and space are given it to break out, but it is com- 
 pressed and fixed down by a sudden violence ; as, 
 x f any one attempts to mix air and water, he can 
 by no means do it, except by a quick and rapid 
 agitation ; for in this manner we see those bodies 
 united in foam, where the air is as it were ravished 
 by the water. Nor is it without elegance added, 
 that Proserpine was ravished while collecting flowers 
 of narcissus in the valleys ; because the narcissus 
 receives its name from sleep or stupor ; and the 
 spirit is then most in a state to be ravished by the 
 terrestrial matter, when it begins to coagulate, and 
 as it were to collect torpor. Honour is also rightly 
 paid to Proserpine, beyond the consort of any other 
 god, as being Queen of Dis, because that spirit 
 administers all things in those regions ; Pluto re- 
 maining stupid and, as it were, ignorant. This 
 spirit the air and power of the celestial parts (re- 
 presented by Ceres), attempts with infinite watch- 
 fulness to draw out and restore to itself; and that 
 ethereal torch or burning lio*ht in the hand of 
 
332 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Ceres, without doubt denotes the Sun, which per- 
 forms the office of light round the circumference 
 of the Earth, and would be most influential of all 
 in the recovery of Proserpine, if that could by any 
 means be effected. But she remains fixed, after a 
 law accurately and excellently laid down in that 
 compact of Jupiter and Ceres ; for, in the first 
 place, it is most certain that there are two ways of 
 confining spirit in solid and terrestrial matter : the 
 one by constrainment and obstruction, which is 
 mere violent incarceration ; the other by the admi- 
 nistration of proportionable nourishment, which is 
 done voluntarily. For when the inclosed spirit 
 begins to feed and nourish itself, it does not hasten 
 to fly away, but is fixed as it were in its own 
 earth : and this is the tasting of the pomegranate 
 by Proserpine; for, had not this taken place, she 
 would long ago have been carried away by Ceres, 
 who is wandering over the Earth with her torch. 
 For the spirit which is contained in metals and 
 minerals, is, perhaps, principally confined by the 
 solidity of. the mass ; but that which is in plants 
 and animals inhabits in a porous body, and has 
 open means of escaping, were it not detained of its 
 own accord by that mode of nourishment. The 
 second agreement, of the division of six months, is 
 nothing but an ep# gan£ ^description of the division 
 of the year, sinco tfeatj spirit perfused the Earth, 
 as far as relates to vegetables, inhabits above during 
 the months of summer, and in the months of win- 
 
PROSERPINE, OR SPIRIT. 333 
 
 ter returns to subterraneous regions. As to the 
 adventure of Theseus and Pirithous to carry off 
 Proserpine, it relates to an effort which frequently 
 takes place, when the more subtle spirits w r hich 
 descend to the Earth in many bodies, by no means 
 succeed in sucking up, uniting with themselves, 
 and carrying off the subterranean spirit; but, on 
 the other hand, are themselves coagulated, and 
 never rise again ; so that Proserpine is by their 
 means increased in inhabitants and subjects. But 
 with regard to the golden bough, it seems scarcely 
 possible for us to resist the attack of the chemists, 
 if they rush on us from this side ; seeing that they 
 promise, by means of their single stone, both moun- 
 tains of gold, and the restitution of natural bodies, 
 as it were, from the gates of the infernal regions. 
 Yet, as to chemistry and the perpetual wooers of 
 that stone, we know to a certainty that their theory 
 is without foundation, and we suspect that their 
 practice also has no certain reward. Therefore, 
 passing over this, the following is our opinion of 
 this last part of the parable. We certainly have 
 found, from many figures of the ancients, that they 
 did not hold it a thing utterly to be despaired 
 of, to preserve and restore natural bodies up to a 
 certain point, but rather as a thing abstruse and 
 difficult of discovery. And this they appear to 
 mean in this place also, where they have situated 
 this golden twig among the innumerable boughs of 
 a vast and thick wood. They make it golden, 
 
334 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 because gold is the symbol of duration : grafted, 
 because the effect is to be hoped for from some 
 similar act, not by any medicine, or simple and 
 natural method. 
 
 XXX. METIS, OR COUNSEL. 
 
 ANCIENT poets write that Jupiter took to 
 wife Metis (whose name without obscurity 
 signifies counsel), and that she became big with 
 child from him. As soon as he observed this, he 
 did not wait for her delivery, but immediately de- 
 voured her, whence he became himself pregnant. 
 That a wondrous delivery followed, for he brought 
 forth Pallas, armed from his head or brain. The 
 sense of this monstrous and, at first sight, most 
 silly fable, appears to contain some secrets of go- 
 vernment, the arts, namely, which kings are wont 
 to use in their behaviour to their councils, so that 
 their own authority and majesty may not only be 
 preserved untouched, but may even be exalted and 
 increased among the people. For kings rightly 
 judge, that to be united and, as it were, joined in 
 marriage with their councils, and to deliberate with 
 them on affairs of the first importance, is no dimi- 
 nution of their majesty : but when it becomes time 
 for decision (which answers to delivery), they do 
 not allow the part of the council to reach any 
 farther, lest their actions should appear to depend 
 
METIS, OR COUNSEL. 335 
 
 on the will of the council : but then at length (un- 
 less the affair in hand be of such a nature as may 
 excite them to wish to turn the unpopularity con- 
 sequent on it into other channels, are wont to 
 transfer to themselves whatever has been wrought 
 out, and, as it were, formed in the womb by their 
 council, so that the decision and execution (which, 
 because it comes forth with power and reduces to 
 necessity, is elegantly typified under the figure of 
 an armed Pallas), may appear to emanate from 
 themselves. Nor is it enough that the authority 
 of kings, and their will, free, unfettered, and not 
 invidious, should be impressed on these decisions ; 
 unless they also assume this to themselves, that 
 these decrees may seem to spring from their head, 
 that is, from their proper judgment and prudence. 
 
 XXXI. THE SIRENS, OR PLEASURE. 
 
 THE fable of the Sirens, by a very common 
 interpretation, and a right one, is transferred 
 to the pernicious allurements of pleasure. To us, 
 however, The Wisdom of the Ancients appears to 
 be as ill-pressed grapes, from which, although 
 somewhat be expressed, yet all the more precious 
 parts remain within, and are neglected. The 
 Sirens are represented to have been the daughters 
 of Achelous and the muse Terpsichore. At first 
 
336 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 they were possessed of wings, but having rashly 
 entered into a contest with the Muses, were 
 punished by a deprivation of them. From their 
 wings thus torn away, the Muses made to them- 
 selves chaplets ; so that from that time the Muses 
 possessed wings to their heads, except only the 
 mother of the Sirens. The habitation of the Si- 
 rens was in certain pleasant islands. Whenever 
 they beheld from an eminence ships approaching, 
 they by their songs first detained navigators, then 
 drew them towards them, and when caught slew 
 them. Nor was their song of one nature only, 
 but they allured each man with such strains as 
 were most agreeable to his nature. So great was 
 the evil, that the isles of Sirens, even when seen 
 afar off, were white with the bones of unburied 
 carcases. To this evil, two remedies of different 
 natures and application, were discovered : one by 
 Ulysses, the other by Orpheus. Ulysses, ordered 
 that the ears of all his companions should be 
 stopped with wax : yet, wishing to make experi- 
 ment of the wonder, and at the same time ward 
 off the danger, would have himself bound to his 
 mast, with orders that no one should loose him, 
 even were he to ask it. Orpheus, without using 
 any such chains, loudly singing the praises of the 
 gods to his lyre, drowned the voices of the Sirens, 
 and kept out of danger. 
 
 This fable relates to moral science, and appears, 
 indeed, a parable clear of interpretation, but not 
 
SIRENS, OR PLEASURE. 337 
 
 the less elegant. Pleasures proceed from abun- 
 dance and affluence, and from mirth or hilarity of 
 spirit. Formerly they used to hurry away men 
 with their first allurements suddenly, and, as it 
 were, with wings. But science and erudition have 
 effected at least thus much, that the mind of man 
 does in some measure restrain itself, and weighs 
 in itself the consequences of action. Thus they 
 have deprived the pleasures of their wings. This 
 became great honour and glory to the Muses ; for, 
 as soon as it became evident by the example of 
 some, that philosophy was able to induce contempt 
 of pleasures, it appeared immediately a sublime 
 thing, able to raise and lift up the soul, as it were, 
 fixed on earth, and to make the thoughts of men 
 (which pass in the head) winged and ethereal. The 
 mother of the Sirens only remained without wings, 
 and bound to the earth. This Muse, beyond doubt, 
 is nothing else than those light sciences which 
 have been invented for the sake of pleasure ; such 
 as appear to have been esteemed by that Petronius, 
 who, when he was under sentence of death, sought 
 for pleasure at the very gates of death;, and, wish- 
 ing to enjoy the solace of letters also, \ he read 
 nothing (says Tacitus) written to arm men with 
 constancy ; but light verses, such as are the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus, 
 Rumoresque senium sasviorum 
 Omnes unius sestimemus assis. 
 
338 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 And 
 
 Jura senes norint, et quid sit fasque nefasque, 
 Inquirant tristes, legumque examina servent. 
 
 For such doctrines as these appear to wish 
 again to take off the wings from the crown of the 
 Muses, and restore them to the Sirens. These 
 Sirens are said to inhabit islands, because they 
 generally seek retreats from men, and frequently 
 avoid their haunts. The song of the Sirens has 
 been celebrated so as to be well-known to all, 
 and its destructiveness, and the variety of its arti- 
 fices, so that this part needs no interpreter. There 
 is something more far fetched in the bones appear- 
 ing like white hills from a distance, which signi- 
 fies, that the most evident and conspicuous examples 
 of calamity are of little avail against the corrup- 
 tion of pleasure. There remains a parable, in the 
 remedies employed, not abstruse, but nevertheless 
 sagacious and noble. Three remedies are proposed 
 for this insinuating, and, at the same time, violent 
 evil : two by philosophy, the third by religion. 
 The first method of escape is, to resist the begin- 
 ning of pleasure, and sedulously to avoid all occa- 
 sions which may tempt and influence the soul, 
 which is denoted by the stopping of the ears. And 
 this remedy is necessarily to be applied to vulgar 
 and plebeian spirits, such as the companions of 
 Ulysses. But loftier souls may even sojourn in 
 the midst of pleasures, if they fortify themselves 
 with determination ; and do ever by this means 
 
 I 
 
SIRENS, OR PLEASURE. 339 
 
 rejoice in trying a more serious experiment on their 
 virtue ; they learn also the folly and madness of 
 the pleasures, by contemplating them without 
 yielding to them ; which Solomon professed of 
 himself, when he finishes the enumeration of the 
 pleasures with which he abounded, with the fol- 
 lowing sentence, " Wisdom also continued with 
 me," Thus such heroes can shew themselves un- 
 moved amidst the greatest allurements of pleasure, 
 and keep upright on its headlong descent; only, 
 after the example of Ulysses, forbidding the per- 
 nicious counsels and obsequiousness of their attend- 
 ance, which have power above all things to corrupt 
 and sap the foundations of the mind. But the 
 most excellent in every way is the remedy of Or- 
 pheus, who, by singing and shouting the praises 
 of the gods, drowned and dissipated the voices of 
 the Sirens. For the meditation of divine things 
 surpasses sensual pleasure, not only in power but 
 in sweetness also. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Achelous, warlike expeditions, fabled by, 299 ; or battle, 
 299 
 
 Actaeon, 267 
 
 Acting in song, 139 
 
 Adrian, an envious man, 27 
 
 Adversity, 15 
 
 Age t 153 ; how to be treated, 117 ; not to be defied, 117 
 
 Aged men, their faults, 154 
 
 Agesilaus, envious, 27 
 
 Albert Durer, 156 
 
 Allegory of the contest between arts and nature, 306 
 
 Ambition, 136 
 
 Anger, 200; how it may be calmed and tempered, 201 ; 
 causes and motives of, 201 ; how to raise or appease in an- 
 other, 202 j in bitterness of words, or revealing of secrets, 
 to be especially avoided, 202 ; remedies against, 203 
 
 Apelles, 156 
 
 Appendix to Essays, 211 
 
 Ardent natures not early ripe for action, 153 
 
 Argus, 79 
 
 Arms, flourish in the youth of a state, 210 ; to be most 
 studied for national greatness, 111 
 
 Art and nature and allegory of contest between, 306 
 
 Art of conversation, 122-3 
 
 Atalanta, or gain, 305 
 
 Atheism, 56 ; evils of, 58 ; talking of, 56 
 
 Atheist, contemplative rare, 58 
 
 Augustus Caesar's emblem of the sphynx, 328 
 
 Authority, vices of, four, 37 
 
 Aviaries, 173 
 
 Bacchus, his car, 301 ; or passion, 300 
 
 Bachelors, or childless, are best public men, 23 ; from par- 
 simony, 23 ; from a desire to be rich, 23 ; from disregard 
 of future times, 23 ; are best friends, 24 ; are best servants, 
 24 ; best masters, 24 ; best churchmen, 24; are worst sub- 
 jects, 24 
 
342 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Battle, 299 
 
 Beauty, best part of, a picture cannot express, 156 
 
 Boldness, advantages of, 39 ; child of ignorance and base- 
 ness, 39 ; succeeds in states, 39 ; is blind, 40 ; good in 
 soldiers and servants, 41 ; ill keeper of promises, 40 ; of 
 Mahomet, 41 
 
 Books, speak plain, when courtiers fear, 76 
 
 Briareus, 53, 79 
 
 Building, 159 
 
 Cambridge University, dedication to, 227 
 
 Cassandra, or free speaking, 237 
 
 Cato, injudicious free speaking, 238 
 
 Catches, 139 
 
 Celsus, 118 
 
 Cheerfulness at meals, 117 
 
 Children, pinched in allowance, are made base and full of 
 shifts, 22 ; and parents, 21 ; and wife, discipline of hu- 
 manity, 24 
 
 Cicero, his saying of Posthumus, 128 ; remarks on Cato, 238 ; 
 saying of, 91 
 
 Clergy, overgrown e.vils of, 51 
 
 Colours for candlelight, 140 
 
 Comets, 205 
 
 Commissions, standing, commended, 77 
 
 Committees, best composed of indifferent persons, 77 
 
 Contemplative atheist rare, 58 
 
 Conversation, art of, 122 
 
 Cosmus, duke of Florence, 14 
 
 Counsel, inconveniences of, 73 ; revealing affairs, 73 ; weak- 
 ening authority, 73 ; unfaithful or unwise, 73 ; cabinet, 
 when and why introduced, 74; the highest confidence, 71 ; 
 safety in, 72 ; Solomon's sayings of, 72 
 
 Counsellor of kings, skilful in his business, not in his nature, 75 
 
 Council, petition of, 76 
 
 Courage, strength of a state, 106 
 
 Crowd, not company, 93 
 
 Cupid, allegorical blindness of, 285 ; his four attributes, 283; 
 or atom, 282 
 
 Cunning, crooked wisdom, 79; precepts of, 80; practised 
 by diversion, by surprise, by haste, 80 
 
 Custom, 143 ; force of, 145 ; stronger than nature or bonds, 
 144; tyranny of, 144 
 
 Cyclops, or ministers of terror, 242 
 
INDEX. 343 
 
 Daedalus, or the mechanic, 290 
 
 Dancing to music, 139 
 
 Dangers best met half way, 78 
 
 David's harp, 16 
 
 Death, early, of men of genius, 280 ; essay on, 217 ; a small 
 evil, 217 ; fear of, 4 ; gracious to the miserable, 221 
 
 Decay of an empire may bring wars, 208 
 
 Dedication of Wisdom of the Ancients, 227 
 
 Deformed men envious, 27 ; persons bold, 158 ; without 
 natural affection, 157 
 
 Deformity, 157 
 
 Delays, 78 
 
 Deluge and earthquake, 204 
 
 Democritus, 315; his opinion, 284, 275 
 
 Demosthenes' opinion of an orator, 39 
 
 Deucalion, or restitution, 295 
 
 Diet and physic, 118 
 
 Diomed, fable of, explained, 288 ; or jealousy, 287 
 
 Discipline of humanity, wife and children, 24 
 
 Discontent, cause of sedition, 49 ; prevention of, 54; politi- 
 cal enlargement of, 50 ; when dangerous, 52 
 
 Discourse, its faults and merits, 121 
 
 Discovery of a man's self, 19 
 
 Disgrace, or suitor of Juno, 281 
 
 Dispatch affected, 88 
 
 Dissimulation and simulation, 16 
 
 Divine nature of goodness, 44 
 
 Domitian, dream of, 132 
 
 Earth, or the common people, 266 
 
 Education, 143 ; but early custom, 145 
 
 Elizabeth, prophecy concerning, 133 
 
 Empire, 65 
 
 Empedocles, 315 
 
 Endymion, or the favourite, 264 
 
 JEnvy, an evil eye, 25 ; quality of the vicious, 26 ; of the 
 Inquisition, 26 ; of lame men, 27 ; of mechanics fabled by 
 Daedalus, 291 ; public, restrains overgrown greatness, 30 ; 
 proper attribute of the Devil, 30 
 
 Epicurus' opinion of atoms, 285 
 
 Epimetheus, 53 
 
 Ericthonius, or imposture, 293 
 
 Esop's cock, 42 ; fable of cat, 142 
 
 Examples of fortunate kings, 68 ; of friendship, 96 
 
 Expence, 102 ; ordinary, 102 ; extraordinary, 102 
 
 Experiment, rashness of, 317 
 
344 INDEX. 
 
 Fable of Atalanta, 305 ; of Prometheus, 307; of Proteus, 
 interpretation of, 278 ; reduced to allegory, 227 
 
 Fame, fragment of Essay on, 211 ; pedigree of, 47 ; the sister 
 of the giants, 266 
 
 Favourites, how bridled, 137 ; less dangerous if mean than 
 noble, 137 ; or Endymion beloved by Luna, 264 ; of 
 kings simple rather than wise or cunning, 265 
 
 Fear of death, 4 
 
 Fiction, love of, 1 
 
 Flowers and trees for each month, 165 
 
 Followers, 176; costly, not to be liked, nor factious, nor 
 spies, 177 
 
 Forgiveness, glory of, 13 
 
 Fortune, 146 ; in a man's own power, 146 ; blind not invi- 
 sible, 146 ; Italian proverb concerning, 147 
 
 Fountains of two sorts, 170 
 
 Frankness, quality of the ablest men, 17 
 
 Free speaking, or Cassandra, 237 
 
 Friend, use of, 101 
 
 Friends, 176 
 
 Friendship denoteth joys, 97 ; lessens sorrow, 97 ; healthful 
 for the understanding, 97 ; for counsel by, 99 ; noble 
 fruits of, 101 ; its fruits, 93 ; sought for by kings, 94 ; 
 altar raised to, 96 ; examples of, 96 
 
 Games of Prometheus, 321 
 
 Garden, description of, 168; for each month, 165; divided 
 
 in three parts, 168 
 Gardening, the purest of pleasures, 165 
 Gellius, saying of, 91 
 Glory of forgiveness, 13 
 Goodness imprinted in man's nature, 42; or philanthropia, 
 
 41 ; parts of, 44 
 Government, 49; of colonies, 126; pillars of, religion, 
 
 justice, counsel, treasure, 49 
 <}reat place, 34 
 Graeae, or intrigue, 262 
 Greek philosophy investigates first principles, 284 
 
 Habits best overcome at once, 142 
 
 Harp of David, 16 
 
 Heath, 172 
 
 Heaven, or origins, 273 
 
 Helen, preferred to Juno and Pallas, riches and wisdom, 33 
 
 Helicon, waters of, lost in seditious tumults, 273 
 
INDEX. 345 
 
 Henry VII. only two counsellors, 74 ; suspicious, 119 
 
 Herbs for plantations, 124 
 
 Hippomene's challenge to Atalanta, 305 
 
 Honour three things, 138 
 
 Hope, importance of, in government, 53 ; to be entertained 
 
 by the aged, 117 
 Houses, comfort preferred to uniformity in, 159 ; choice of 
 
 ground for building, 159 ; for summer and winter, 160 
 
 Icarus, 291 
 
 Illicit arts, 293 
 
 Imposture, or Ericthonius, 293 
 
 Indians, custom of, 144 
 
 Injudicious free-speakers, 238 
 
 Innovation, 86 
 
 Insolent success exposed to envy, 29 
 
 Iphicrates, his address to the Lacedemonians, 247 
 
 Irish rebel, 144 
 
 Jealousy, or Diomed, 287 
 
 Jests, things privileged from, 121 
 
 Judges, office of, with reference to the suitors, 195 ; with 
 reference to the advocates, 197 ; to the inferior officers of 
 the court, 198 ; to the king, 199 ; their office to interpret, 
 not make law; their qualities, 195 
 
 Judicature, 195 
 
 Jupiter lamed bv Typhon, 239 ; married Metes, or coun- 
 sel, 72 
 
 Justice, pillar of government, 49 
 
 Just fears, cause for war, 68 
 
 Kings endangered by kindred and prelates, 68, 69 ; hearts 
 inimitable, 65 ; fond of toys and trifling acts, 65 ; have sad 
 ends, 65 ; examples of, 65 ; in counsel should be silent to 
 get at truth, 77 ; nature of, 213 ; maxims for, 214 ; qua- 
 lities of, 214-15 ; precepts, concerning, 71 ; sharp speeches 
 by, dangerous, 54 ; will, contradictions, 67 
 
 Kingdoms, their true greatness, 104 
 
 Knee timber, 44 
 
 Letters, when good, 174 
 
 Libels, 47 ; open and audacious, sign of bad government, 48 
 Licensed money-lenders, 152 
 
 Love, martial men given to, 34 ; wanton, corrupteth, 34 ; 
 flood time in adversity and prosperity, 33 ; useful to the 
 
346 ITSiDEX. 
 
 drama, 32 ; rejected in excess by great minds, 32 ; 
 Epicurus' saying of, 32 ; foolish idolatry, 32 ; ruined Mark 
 Antony and Claudius, 32 ; which loseth all things, loseth 
 itself, 33 ; the most ancient of the gods, 282 
 
 Lewis XI. of France, his favourites, 265 
 
 Low countries, recurrence of weather in, 206 
 
 Lucian's saying of Menippus, 218 
 
 Machiavel, 205 
 
 Machiavel, of custom, 143; in the Christian faith, 42; opi- 
 nion of Henry III. of France, 48 
 
 Mahomet's boldness, 40 
 
 Man, state of, 307; the centre of the universe, 311 
 
 Manner of planting new sects, threefold, 20 
 
 Manufactures, fit for plantations, 125 
 
 Marriage and single life, 23 
 
 Married men, best subjects, 24; best soldiers, 24 ; men give 
 hostage to fortune, 23 
 
 Masques and triumphs, 139 
 
 Massacre in France, 12 
 
 Matter, force may change but cannot annihilate, 278 
 
 Meals, cheerfulness at, 117 
 
 Mediocrity in morals, 322 
 
 Memnon, or the premature, 279 ; fable of, explained, 279 
 
 Mercenaries, not to be depended upon, 107 
 
 Merchants, vena porta, 70 ; wealth of a state, 70 ; impolicy 
 of taxing heavily, 70 
 
 Metis, or counsel, 334 ; relating to governments, 334 
 
 Microcosm, 312 
 
 Military men, importance of, 55 
 
 Ministers, choice of, 138 
 
 Minos, 293 
 
 Misanthropi worse than Timon, 43 
 
 Monarchy, tree of, 109 
 
 Monks in Russia, 145 
 
 Monopoly, evils of, 52 
 
 Montaigne, 3 
 
 Moral and civil philosophy, fabled by the songs of Or- 
 pheus, 271 
 
 Mountebanks of the body politic, 40 
 
 Mutability, 296 
 
 Narcissus, or self-love, 243 
 
 National greatness best promoted by arms, 111 
 
 Nations, wealth of, 52 
 
INDEX. 347 
 
 Nature, 141 
 
 Nature and art, allegory of contest between, 306 ; not to be 
 
 overtasked, 141 ; or Pan, 248 
 Necessity, the ruler of princes, 247 
 Negociation, better by speech than letter, 174 
 Negociator, how to choose, 174 
 Nemesis, or mutability, 296 ; vengeance or retribution, 297 \ 
 
 daughter of ocean and night, 297 
 Nero Comrnodus, character of, 66 
 New sects in religion, when dangerous, 206 
 Nobility, monarchy without it a tyranny, 41 ; numerous, make 
 
 a state poor, 44 ; of birth, abates industry, extinguishes 
 
 envy, 44 ; when depressed, dangerous, 70 
 Noblemen, too many bad for a state, 109 
 Nobles and people, discontent of, 52 
 
 Odours, 140 
 
 (Edipus, 325 
 
 Old men envious, 26 
 
 Order, life of dispatch, 90 
 
 Ordnance, use of, in China 2000 years since, 209 
 
 Orpheus, or philosophy, 269 ; songs of, indicate moral and 
 
 civil philosophy, 271 ; and Sirens, 336 
 Otho, 5 
 Over early ripeness in youth, 155 
 
 Painting, imagination better than reality in, 157 
 
 Palace, description of, 161 
 
 Pallas, 53 
 
 Pan, or nature, 247 ; god of huntsmen and shepherds, 249 ; 
 how clothed, 249; accompanied by Silenus and Satyrs, 
 249 ; contended with Apollo, 249 ; represents the uni- 
 verse, 250 
 
 Pandora's box, 309 
 
 Parables, preceded philosophical reasoning, 235 
 
 Parents and children, 21 
 
 Parents, their joys, 21; their sorrows, 21; their partiality, 21; 
 their covetousness, 22 ; should keep close authority, not a 
 close purse, 22 ; should avoid emulations, 22 ; should be 
 liberal, 22 
 
 Passions to be avoided in age, 117 
 
 Patience essential to justice, 196 
 
 Pentheus, or perplexed judgment, 268 
 
 People, fit for colonies, 124; overtaxed not fit for empire, 
 107 
 
348 INDEX. 
 
 Perseus, or war, 259 ; slays Medusa, 260 ; receives swiftness, 
 secrecy, and foresight, 261 ; resorts to the Graeae, or in- 
 trigues, 262 
 
 Persians in Arbela, 106 
 
 Personal negotiation, when good, 174 
 
 Philanthropia, 41 
 
 Philosophy destroyed by seditious tumult, 272 ; or Orpheus, 
 269 ; true end of, 327 
 
 Physicians, how to choose, 181 
 
 Physic and diet, 118 
 
 Pillars of government, 49 
 
 Pilate, 1 
 
 Place, sheweth the man, 38 ; rising into, laborious, 34 ; stand- 
 ing slippery, 34 ; often base, 34 
 
 Placemen, thrice servants, to the king, the state, and to fame, 
 35 ; as to their colleagues, 38 
 
 Plantations, 123 
 
 Plants yielding the most perfume, 167 
 
 Plato, saying of, 92 
 
 Pleasure, allegorical representation of, 280 ; in recurring to 
 youthful days, 281 
 
 Pluto's helmet, 79 
 
 Political discontent, how estimated, 60 
 
 Powder plot, 12 
 
 Power to do good, lawful end of aspiring, 35 
 
 Poverty, cause of sedition, 49 
 
 Preface to Wisdom of the Ancients, 229 
 
 Prelates, when powerful, dangerous subjects, 69 
 
 Pride, flattered by abjectness in the suitor, 281 
 
 Princes, bound only by necessity, 247 ; compared to hea- 
 venly bodies, 71 
 
 Private revenge, 14 
 
 Privation of discontents, 54 
 
 Prolongation of life, 315 
 
 Prometheus, 53 ; tradition of, 307 ; inventor of fire, 313 
 
 Prophecies, 132 
 
 Prophecy, Spanish fleet, 134 
 
 Prosperity, 16 
 
 Proserpine, or spirit, 328 ; fable of, relating to nature, 330 
 
 Proteus, a prophet, 277 ; or matter, 277 
 
 Providence, nature of, illustrated by fable of Prometheus, 311 
 
 Public envy hath some good, 30 ; revenge, 14 
 
 Pyrrha and Deucalion, 295 
 
 Quarrels, wisdom of avoiding, 64 
 
INDEX. 349 
 
 Rebellions, or the fable of Typhon, 240 
 
 Recurrence of weather in a cycle, 206 
 
 Regimen of health, 116 
 
 Religion, pillar of government, 49 : unity of, 7 ; Lucre- 
 tius, 11 
 
 Religious differences dissolve friendships, 289 ; errors should 
 be opposed with mildness by the reformation of abuses, 
 and the compounding of small differences, 207 ; warfare 
 unknown to the ancients, 288 
 
 Remedies of sedition, 51 
 
 Restitution, 295 
 
 Revenge, public, 14 ; private, 14 ; wild justice, 13 
 
 Riches, baggage of virtue, 127 ; impediment to virtue, 127 ; 
 lasting only when earned, 128 
 
 Romans and Turks prospered by arms alone, 111 
 
 Rooms for summer and winter, 163 
 
 SAFETY-valve for sedition, 53 
 
 Satire salt, not bitter, 121 
 
 Saturn fabled as matter, 274 
 
 Savages in colonies, how to be treated, 126 
 
 Schoolmen, 60 
 
 Science of generals and particulars, 316 
 
 Scylla and Icarus, 322 
 
 Secrecy, virtue of, a confession, 18 
 
 Sedition, 49 ; materials of, 49 ; matter of poverty and dis- 
 content, 49 ; causes of, 50 ; innovation of, 50 ; alteration 
 of laws, 50 ; advancement of, 50 ; of unworthy persons, 50 ; 
 safety-valve of, 53 ; and troubles, 46 
 
 Seditious tumult destructive of philosophy, 272 
 
 Seeming wise, 90 
 
 Self-love, instances of, 85, 86 ; or Narcissus, 243 
 
 Seneca, 5, 15 ; prophecy of, 132 ; on anger, 201 
 
 Shepherds of the people should calendar tempests, 46 
 
 Simulation, 19 ; advantages of, 19 ; disadvantages of, 20 ; 
 and dissimulation, 17 
 
 Single life and marriage, 23 
 
 Sirens, the, or pleasure, 335 ; their habitation, 336 
 
 Slaves, Spartan, 110; abolished by Christian law, 110 
 
 Soldiers dangerous to the state in large bodies, 71 
 
 Solitude, saying of, 92 
 
 Solomon, his sayings of riches, 128 
 
 Soul, shaken off mortality, 219 
 
 Spanish proverb of dispatch, 89 ; state, 110 
 
 Spartan state, 109 ; firm, while small, 109 ; ruined by ex- 
 tension, 109 
 
350 INDEX. 
 
 Speeches, sharp, by kings, danger of, 54 
 
 Sphynx, or science, riddle of, 324 
 
 State of man, 307 ; what constitutes, 106 ; strength of, not 
 
 numbers or money, 106 
 Study, set hours for, 143 
 Styx, or necessity, 247 ; or treaties, 245 
 Suitor of Juno, or disgrace, 281 
 Superstition, causes of, 61 ; evils of, 59 
 Suspicions, 119; of suspicion, 119 
 Switzers, last long as a people, 45 
 Sybilla's offer, 78 
 Sylla's friendship for Pompey, 95 
 
 Tacitus, upon fame, 47 
 
 Talking of atheism, 56 
 
 Tamerlane envious, 27 
 
 Tempests, greatest about the equinox, 47 
 
 Terror, ministers of, or Cyclops, 242 
 
 Thieves, not fit for plantations, 124 
 
 Themistocles, sayings of, 104 
 
 Things, but two constant, 203 
 
 Tiberius, his favourites, 265 
 
 Tigellinus, sayings of, 83 
 
 Time, the greatest innovator, 87 
 
 Timotheus, the Athenian, 148 
 
 Travel, 62 ; desire of travelling, 62 ; scenes at sea and on 
 shore, 62 ; observations to be made in travelling, 62 ; ac- 
 quaintance to be sought in travelling, 64 
 
 Treatises, or Styx, 245 
 
 Tree of monarchy, 109 
 
 Troubles and seditions, 46 
 
 True dispatch, 89 ; religion unchangeable, 206 
 
 Truth, 1 ; best obtained in counsel, when kings are silent, 77 
 
 Turks and Romans prescribed as nations by arms, 112 ; un- 
 married, make base soldiers, 24 
 
 Typhon, or the rebel, 239 
 
 Tythonus, or satiety, 280 
 
 University of Cambridge, dedication to, 227 
 
 Unity of religion, 7 
 
 Ulysses and Sirens, 336 
 
 Usurers. 148 
 
 Usury, 148 ; must be permitted, 149 ; discommodities of, 149 ; 
 
 commodities of, 150; in all countries, 151; reformation 
 
 and regulation of, 151 ; two rates of, 151 
 
INDEX. 351 
 
 Vespasian, prophecy of, 133 
 
 Vespasian's saying of Nero, 66 
 
 Vices of authority, four, 37 
 
 Vicissitudes in war, 207 ; chiefly in three things, 207 ; of sects 
 
 and religions, 206 ; of things, 203 
 Virgil's character of Italy, 109 
 Virgil, Battle of Actium, 298 
 
 Virtue, best plain set, 156 ; walks not in the highway, 218 
 Vulcan, 294 
 
 War, its sinews not money, 106 ; war, or Perseus, 259 ; 
 war, true exercise to bodies politic, 113 ; foreign, healthy 
 for a people, 114 ; battles by sea, 114 
 Wars, of modern times, 115; usual on the decay of an em- 
 pire, 208 
 Wealth of nations, 52 ; pillar of government, 49 
 Wife and children, discipline of humanity, 24 
 Wisdom of the Ancients, 226 ; for a man's self, 84 
 Wives, good, with bad husbands, from pride of patience, 25 
 
 Young men, their faults, 154 
 
 Youth, 153 ; fitter for education than counsel, 154 ; pre- 
 served from decay, 315 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ION don : 
 
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