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Sir Francis Bacon. 
 
. TME ESSAYS 
 
 sX OR 
 
 Counsels Civil and A\oral 
 or 
 
 FRANCIS BACON 
 
 \ \ 
 
 FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1597, AND AS HE 
 
 LEFT THEM NEWLY WRITTEN 
 
 AND PUBLISHED IN 1625 
 
 INCLUDING ALSO HIS 
 
 APOPHTHEGMS, ELEGANT 
 SENTENCES AND W1SDOA q 
 OE THE ANCIENTS 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 Henry A\orley. LL. D. i 
 
 CHICAGO 
 W. B. CONKEY COMPANY 
 
42877 
 
 l_ibw*r y of Congress 
 
 y wu Copies Recemed 
 SEP 4 1900 
 
 Of yrigfit entry 
 
 SECOND COPY.' 
 
 Odivend to 
 0«0£fi DIVISION, 
 
 SEP 5 1900 
 
 
 
 V x „o 
 
 
 Copyright, 1900, by W. B. Conkey Company. 
 
 74140 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Essays— The Last Edition, 1625. 
 
 CHAPTEE. PAGE. 
 
 I. Of Truth 16 
 
 II. ^Of Death 19 
 
 III. Of Unity in Religion 21 
 
 IV. ^Oi Revenge 27 
 
 V. "Of Adversity 29 
 
 VI. , Of Simulation and Dissimulation 30 
 
 VII. Of Parents and Children 34 
 
 VIII. ' Of Marriage and Single Life 36 
 
 IX. Of Envy 38 
 
 X. i Of Love 45 
 
 XI. Of Great Place 47 
 
 XII. Of Boldness 52 
 
 XIII. Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature 54 
 
 XIV. Of Nobility 57 
 
 XV. Of Seditions and Troubles 59 
 
 XVI. Of Atheism 68 
 
 XVII. Of Superstition 71 
 
 XVIII. Of Travel 73 
 
 XIX. Of Empire 76 
 
 XX. Of Counsel 82 
 
 XXI. Of Delays 88 
 
 XXII. Of Cunning 89 
 
 XXIII. Of Wisdom for a Man's Self 94 
 
 XXIV. Of Innovations 96 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. ' 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 XL. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 L. 
 
 LI. 
 
 LII. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 LV. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Of Dispatch 98 
 
 Of Seeming Wise 100 
 
 Of Friendship 102 ^ 
 
 Of Expense Ill 
 
 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms 
 
 and Estates 113 
 
 Of Regimen of Health 125 
 
 Of Suspicion 127 
 
 Of Discourse 129 
 
 Of Plantations 131 
 
 Of Riches 135 
 
 Of Prophecies 139 
 
 Of Ambition 143 
 
 Of Masques and Triumphs 14G 
 
 Of Nature in Men 148 
 
 Of Custom and Education 150 
 
 Of Fortune 152 
 
 Of Usury 154 
 
 Of Youth and Age 159 
 
 Of Beauty 162 
 
 Of Deformity 163 
 
 Of Building 165 
 
 Of Gardens 170 
 
 Of Negotiating. , 240 
 
 Of Followers and Friends. . . 181 
 
 Of Suitors 183 
 
 Of Studies 185 
 
 Of Faction 1S7 
 
 Of Ceremonies and Respects 189 
 
 Of Praise 191 
 
 Of Vain Glory 193 
 
 Of Honor and Reputation 195 
 
 Of Judicature 198 
 
CONTENTS. 5 
 
 CHAPTEB. /^ PAGE. 
 
 LVII. Of Anger 203 
 
 LVIII. Of Vicissitude of Things 206 
 
 A Fragment of an Essay of Fame 213 
 
 An Essay of a King 215 
 
 On Death 218 
 
 Essays—The First Edition, 1597. 
 
 I. ^Of Studies 229 
 
 II. Of Discourse 230 
 
 III. Of Ceremonies and Respects 231 
 
 IV. Of Followers and Friends 232 
 
 V. Of Suitors 234 
 
 VI. Of Expense 235 
 
 VII. Of Regimen of Health 236 
 
 VIII. Of Honor and Reputation 237 
 
 IX. Of Faction 239 
 
 X. Of Negotiating 240 
 
 The Wisdom of the Ancients— A Series of Mythological 
 
 Fables. 
 
 Preface 245 
 
 I. Cassandra, or Divination 251 
 
 II. Typhon, or a Rebel 252 
 
 III. The Cyclops, or the Ministers of Terror 255 
 
 I Vc Narcissus, or Self- Love 257 
 
 V. The River Styx, or Leagues 258 
 
 VIo Pan, or Nature 260 
 
 VII. Perseus, or War 270 
 
 VIIIc Endymion, or a Favorite 274 
 
 IX. The Sister of the Giants, or Fame 276 
 
 X. Acteon and Pantheus, or a Curious Man 277 
 
 XL Orpheus, or Philosophy 278 
 
 XIIo Ccelum, or Beginnings 282 
 
 XIII. Proteus, or Matter 285 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Francis Bacon was born three years before 
 Shakespeare, on the 2 2d of January, 1561, and 
 died ten years after Shakespeare, on the 9th of 
 April, 1626. Shakespeare's age when he died 
 was fifty-two, and Bacon's sixty-five. The 
 two men were the greatest births of their own 
 time. One glanced "from heaven to earth, 
 from earth to heaven" as a poet. The other 
 taught men to look abroad into God's world, 
 and by patient experiment to find their way 
 from outward signs to knowledge of the inner 
 working of those laws of Nature which are 
 fixed energies appointed by the wisdom of the 
 Creator as sources of all that we see and use. 
 As the working of each law is discovered, 
 Bacon would have the searcher next look for 
 its applications to the well-being of man. 
 
 Sir William Cecil, afterward Lord Burleigh, 
 and Sir Nicholas Bacon, Queen Elizabeth's 
 Lord Keeper, married two daughters of Sir 
 Anthony Cooke. Anne Cooke was the second 
 wife of Sir Nicholas, who had six children by 
 a former marriage. His second wife had two 
 sons, Anthony and Francis. Francis was thus 
 the youngest in a family of eight, living some- 
 times in London, at York House, and some- 
 
 7 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 times at Gorhambury, near St. Albans. In 
 April, 1573, Francis Bacon, twelve years old, 
 entered with his elder brother Anthony, as 
 fellow-commoner, at Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge. He left Cambridge after about four 
 years' study there. 
 
 At Cambridge he felt the fruitlessness of 
 those teachings in philosophy which bade him 
 get clear understanding by beating the bounds 
 of his own brain. This was a philosophy, he 
 used to say, only strong for disputations and 
 contentions, but barren of the production of 
 works for the benefit of the life of man. The 
 desire to turn philosophic thought into a more 
 useful course became strong in him even then. 
 
 He was to be trained for the service of the 
 State, and after leaving Cambridge, at sixteen, 
 went in the suite of an ambassador to Paris. 
 But while he was in France his father died, 
 before he had made the provision he designed 
 for his sons by the second marriage. Bacon 
 then, at the age of eighteen, came to London 
 to prepare for earning by the practice of the 
 law. He became a barrister in June, 1582. 
 He entered the House of Commons in Novem- 
 ber, 1584, as member for Melcombe Regis, in 
 Dorsetshire. He sat for Taunton in the Par- 
 liament that met in October, 1586, and was 
 among those who petitioned for the execution 
 of Mary Queen of Scots. He sat next for 
 Liverpool, and in October, 1589, obtained by 
 his Court interest the reversion to the office of 
 Clerk of the Council in the Star Chamber, 
 which was of great money value ; but it did 
 
INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 not become vacant for him until 1608. He 
 was member for Middlesex in the Parliament 
 that met in 1593, and piqued the Queen by- 
 raising constitutional objections to her manner 
 of asking a subsidy to meet the cost of provid- 
 ing against dangers from the Catholic Powers. 
 Anthony and Francis Bacon were then both 
 looking for patronage to the young Earl of 
 Essex, who was six years younger than Fran- 
 cis, impetuous, generous, and in favor with the 
 Queen. Bacon, thirty-three years old, sought 
 advance in his profession to the office of 
 Attorney-General. The Queen gave it to Sir 
 Edward Coke, who was already Solicitor- 
 General, was nine years older than Bacon, and 
 could not fairly have been set aside for one 
 who was so much his junior at the bar. Suit 
 was then made on Bacon's behalf for the office 
 of Solicitor-General, but after months of delay 
 it was given, in November, 1595, to another 
 man. Bacon felt that the Queen was still 
 offended by his action in the matter of the 
 subsidy. Essex said that the refusal of his 
 client was meant by the Queen as an insult to 
 himself, and that Bacon must accept from him 
 a piece of land as amends for the disappoint- 
 ment. So Bacon took the piece of land, since 
 known as Twickenham Park; he sold it after- 
 ward for eighteen hundred pounds. It was 
 worth, therefore, about twelve thousand in 
 modern value. In taking it, he said afterward 
 that he explicitly guarded himself against 
 owing on account of it any service to his pat- 
 ron that might traverse his dut}^ to his Oueen. 
 
 2 Bacon "" 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Essex entered into correspondence with James 
 VI. of Scotland by cipher, through the agency 
 of Anthony Bacon, in the matter of the succes- 
 sion to the throne; and Francis Bacon could 
 not have been ignorant of this. 
 
 In 1597, Bacon, wanting money, sought to 
 marry the rich young widow of Sir William 
 Hat ton. She was married in November, 1598, 
 to Sir Edward Coke. It was at this time, in 
 1597 — in the thirty- seventh year of his life — 
 that Bacon published the first edition of his 
 44 Essays. " It was a little book, containing only 
 the ten Essays which will be found in the first 
 section of the present volume. They deal only 
 with man's relation to this world, but the vol- 
 ume did not exclude the religious side of life, 
 for that was added in twelve more essays, 
 44 Religious Meditations," written in Latin, on 
 such subjects as 44 The Works of God and 
 Man," 44 The Miracles of Our Savior," 
 44 Earthly Hope," "The Exaltation of Char- 
 ity," 44 Atheism," t4 Heresies," 44 The Church 
 of the Scriptures." The ten English Essays, 
 it will be observed, have a significant order. 
 They begin with man alone, using his mind — 
 44 Of Study;" then comes relation to the minds 
 and lives of others — 44 Of Discourse," 44 0f Cer- 
 emonies and Respects," 44 Of Followers and 
 Friends;" 44 Of Suitors;" then personal re- 
 lation to the means of living — 44 Of Expense," 
 44 Of Regimen of Health;" and then relation to 
 the world at large and to affairs of State — 44 Of 
 Honor and Reputation," 44 Of Faction," 44 Of 
 Negotiating." That is all. Upon each theme 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Bacon's conception of an essay was in accord- 
 ance with the original meaning of the word, 
 which makes it equivalent with 4< assay. " 
 The same analytical method that, in deal- 
 ing with outward Nature, would seek to re- 
 solve knowledge of all things into knowl- 
 edge of their elements, for study of the 
 principles upon which they can be recombined 
 for the advancement of the general well- 
 being, was in the Essays applied to observed 
 conditions of the inner life of man. Bacon's 
 philosophical writings and his Essays are two 
 parts of the same whole ; one dealing with the 
 world outside us, and the other with the world 
 within. Bacon was at this time warning the 
 Earl of Essex of a danger before him, and 
 applying counsels, civil and moral, to the par- 
 ticular case of his patron as remedy for 4i a cold 
 and malignant humor growing upon Her 
 Majesty toward your lordship." There was a 
 very shrewd analytical letter written to Essex 
 in October, 1596. One recommendation was 
 44 that your lordship should never be without 
 some particulars afoot, which you should seem 
 to pursue with earnestness and affection, and 
 then let them fall, upon taking knowledge of 
 Her Majesty's opposition and dislike." 
 Among minor devices of this kind he suggested 
 4 'the pretence of some journeys, which, at Her 
 Majesty's request, your lordship might relin- 
 quish ; as if you would pretend a journey to 
 see your living and estate toward Wales, or 
 the like ; for as for great foreign journeys of 
 employment and service, it standeth not with 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 your gravity to play or stratagem with them. 
 And the lightest sort of particulars, which yet 
 are not to be neglected, are in your habits, 
 apparel, wearings, gestures, and the like. " In 
 March, 1599, Essex left London as Lord Dep- 
 uty of Ireland, meaning great things; and 
 again he had received lessons of life in a letter 
 from Bacon. In September he accepted an 
 armistice and entertained conditions of peace 
 from Tyrone, that might have been dictated 
 by a conqueror. The Queen was displeased. 
 Essex hurried back to her, Tyrone rebelled 
 again, and Essex was replaced by a more 
 vigorous Lord Deputy. In February, 1601, 
 tlie rash counsels of Essex led him to an overt 
 act of rebellion. He was then lodged in the 
 Tower, and on trial for his life. Bacon, then 
 Queen's Counsel, though engaged in the prose- 
 cution, was not officially called upon to speak, 
 when twice, during the trial, he rose to show 
 his zeal for the Crown by violence against the 
 traitor. Once in that way he coupled Essex 
 with Cain; another time he rose and said, 
 "I have never yet seen in any case such favor 
 shown to any prisoner; so many digressions, 
 such delivering of evidence by fractions, and 
 so silly a defense of such great and notorious 
 treasons." On the 25th of February, 1601, 
 Essex was beheaded within the Tower; and it 
 was the keen intellect of Bacon that was em- 
 ployed afterward by the Government in draw- 
 ing up "A Declaration of the Practices and 
 Treasons attempted and committed by 
 Robert, late Earl of Essex, and his Complices. " 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 Bacon had, thus experimented, prudently and 
 honestly, as he believed, toward the full 
 recovery of the Queen's favor. The Queen 
 died on the 24th of March, 1603, but if she had 
 lived, Bacon's experiment would hardly have 
 succeeded. 
 
 Bacon's Essays disclose to us counsels of 
 life by a man of the rarest intellect, with 
 weight of thought in every sentence. But in 
 his own life Bacon proved himself wanting, 
 just where he is found wanting in his Essays. 
 Life is directed best by those who allow due 
 influence to each of its elements in man — the 
 will, the intellect, and the emotions; and 
 Bacon's failures both as actor in life and as 
 interpreter of action may depend chiefly, as 
 Dr. Kuno Fischer has suggested, upon undue 
 predominance of the intellectual over the 
 emotional part of a man's nature. Its imper- 
 fection in himself made it also less easy for him 
 to understand its operation in the minds of 
 others. Bacon was not, what no being upon 
 earth can be, as Pope called him, "the wisest, 
 brightest, meanest of mankind;" he never 
 consciously said to himself, "evil, be thou my 
 good." Emotion being out of place in philo- 
 sophical researches into Nature, Bacon's 
 inductive philosophy went straight to its aim 
 when he endeavored to guide men's minds 
 into the one way of profitable research. But 
 the modifications of man's speech and actions 
 that are due to the just influence of feeling are 
 so far essential to the right conduct of life that 
 whoever wants or avoids the prompting to 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 them cannot live long without blundering 
 very gravely more than once, as Bacon did. 
 He was well read in Machiavelli, whose keen 
 intellect he appreciated; indeed, from the fifth 
 chapter of the second book of Machiavelli 's 
 4 'Discourses upon Livy" Bacon took suggestion 
 of his essay of "Vicissitudes of Things." 
 There is a touch of Machiavelli often in Ba- 
 con's counsels of life; they are all wise, but 
 they are not the whole abstract of worldly 
 wisdom, and sometimes, not often, they sink 
 where they should rise. 
 
 Bacon kept his first little book of Essays by 
 him, adding, altering, and writing more as 
 inclination or occasion prompted. Under 
 James I. he prospered rapidly. The books in 
 which he developed his method of research 
 into Nature — his philosophy — appeared from 
 time to time. He rose to the head of his pro- 
 fession. In the year of Shakespeare's death, 
 Bacon was made a Privy Councilor. In 
 March, 1617, he became Lord-Keeper. In 
 January, 16 18, he became Lord-Chancelor; in 
 July he became Baron Verulam ; in October, 
 1620, he produced what we have of the chief 
 work in his philosophical series, the "Novum 
 Organum;" on the 27th of January, 162 1, he 
 was made Viscount St. Albans, and touched 
 the highest point of all his greatness. On the 
 3d of May in the same year he was sentenced, 
 upon twenty-three specified charges of cor- 
 ruption, admitted by himself, to a fine of forty 
 thousand pounds, which the King remitted; to 
 be committed to the Tower during the King's 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 pleasure, and he was released next day; 
 thenceforth to be incapable of holding any 
 office in the State, or sitting in Parliament. It 
 was decided by majority of two that he should 
 not be stripped of his titles. There remained 
 to him five years of life, and in these he with- 
 drew from all strife of the world, closing his 
 life in peace. During all these years he had 
 been embodying his counsels of life in his 
 "Essays." They had increased in number 
 from ten to thirty-eight when he produced an 
 edition of them in 1612 ; and in his last edition 
 of them, that was issued as "newly written "in 
 the year before his death, the number had 
 risen to fifty-eight. That is their final form, 
 as given in the second section of the present 
 volume. 
 
 Real literature has for one of its qualities 
 that it deals with the essentials of life. It is, 
 therefore, not addressed to a select company 
 of critics, but to all who live. Every true 
 book that has really a place in literature speaks 
 to every mind that has been awakened to a 
 consciousness of interests beyond those of the 
 flesh. If it be said that Bacon's Essays are 
 mere literature and caviare to the general, 
 let it be replied that, being absolutely litera- 
 ture, they are absolutely life — life, that is the 
 dearest interest of each of us, as one of the 
 acutest of men sought to interpret it ; and have 
 we not our own experience of life to measure 
 with it as we read? 
 
 HENRY MORLEY. 
 
 November, 1883. 
 
BACON'S 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 bond- 
 age to fix a belief; affecting free-will in think- 
 ing, 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 labor which 
 men take in finding out of truth ; nor again, 
 that when it is found, it imposeth upon men's 
 thoughts, that doth bring lives in favor; but a 
 natural though corrupt love of the lie itself. 
 One of the later schools of the Grecians exam- 
 ineth 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 mer- 
 chant, but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell : 
 this same truth is a naked and open daylight, 
 that doth not show the masks, and mummer- 
 ies, and triumphs of the world, half so stately 
 and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may per- 
 
 16 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 17 
 
 haps come to the price of a pearl, that showeth 
 best by day, but it will not rise to the price of 
 a diamond or carbuncle, that showeth best in 
 varied light. 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 "vinum daemonum," because it filleth 
 the imagination and yet it is but with the shad- 
 ow 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 enjoy- 
 ing of it, is the sovereign good of human 
 nature. The first creature of God, in the works 
 of the days, was 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 he breathed light 
 into the face of man; and still he breathed and 
 inspired light into the face of his chosen. The 
 poet that beautified the sect, that was other- 
 
 2 Bacon's 
 
18 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 wise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently 
 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 temp- 
 ests, 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 
 acknowledged even by those that practice it 
 not, that clear and round dealing is the honor 
 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 per- 
 fidious; and therefore Montaigne saith pret- 
 tily, 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 toward God and a 
 coward toward men. For a lie faces God, and 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 19 
 
 shrinks from man;" surely the wickedness of 
 falsehood and breach of faith cannot possibly 
 be so highly expressed, 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 children 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 there is sometimes mixture of 
 vanity and of superstition. You shall read in 
 some of the friars' books of mortification, that 
 a man should think with himself, 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 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 phi- 
 losopher, and natural man, it was well said, 
 "Pompa mortis magis terret quam mors ipsa." 
 Groans and convulsions, and a discolored 
 face, and friends weeping, and blacks and 
 obsequies, and the like, show death terrible. 
 It is worthy the observing, that there is no 
 
20 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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; honor 
 aspire th to it ; grief flieth to it ; fear pre-occu- 
 pateth it; nay, we read, after Otho the emperor 
 has slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest 
 of affections) provoked many to die out of 
 mere compassion to their sovereign, and as the 
 truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds, 
 niceness and satiety: "Cogita quamdiu 
 eadem feceris; mori velle, non tantum fortis, 
 aut miser, sed etiam f astidiosus 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 ; "Li via, 
 conjugii nostri memor, vive et vale. " Tiber- 
 ius in dissimulation, as Tacitus saith of him, 
 "Jam Tiberium vires et corpus, non-dissimu- 
 latio, 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: Septimus 
 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 21 
 
 vitss extremum inter munera ponit naturae. " 
 It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a 
 little infant, perhaps, 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 there- 
 fore a mind fixed and bent upon somewhat that 
 is good, doth avert* the dolors 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 were evils 
 unknown to the heathen. The reason was, 
 because the religion of the heathen consisted 
 rather in rites and ceremonies, than in any con- 
 stant 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 words concern- 
 ing 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- 
 
22 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 pleasing of God, which is all in all) are two ; 
 the one toward those that are without the 
 church, the other toward that are within. 
 For the former, it is certain, that heresies and 
 schisms are of all others the greatest scandals ; 
 yea, more than corruption of manners: for as 
 in the natural body a wound or solution of 
 continuity is worse than a corrupt humor, so 
 in the spiritual ; so that 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, M — "go not 
 out. " The doctor of the Gentiles (the propri- 
 ety of whose vocation drew him to have a 
 special care of those without) saith, "If a 
 heathen come in, and hear you speak with sev- 
 eral 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 alight thing to be 
 vouched in so serious 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, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 23 
 
 indeed, every sect of them hath a diverse 
 posture, or cringe, by themselves, which can- 
 not but move derision in worldlings and 
 depraved politicians, who are apt to contemn 
 holy things. 
 
 As for the fruit toward those that are with- 
 in, it is peace, which containeth infinite bless- 
 ings; it establisheth faith; it kindleth charity; 
 the outward peace of the church distilleth into 
 peace of conscience, and it turneth the labors 
 of writing and reading of controversies into 
 treatises of mortification and devotion. 
 
 Concerning the bounds of unity, the true 
 placing of them importeth exceedingly. 
 There appear to be two extremes: for to cer- 
 tain zealots all speech of pacification is odious. 
 44 Is it peace, Jehu?"— " What hast thou to do 
 with peace? turn thee behind me." Peace is 
 not the matter, but following and party. Con- 
 trariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm 
 persons think they may accommodate points 
 of religion by middle ways, and taking part of 
 both, and witty reconcilements, as if they 
 would make an arbitrament between God and 
 man. Both these extremes are to be avoided; 
 which will be done if the league of Christians, 
 penned by our Savior himself, were in the 
 two cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly 
 expounded: "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 substance in religion, were truly dis- 
 cerned and distinguished from points not 
 merely of faith, but of opinion, order, or good 
 
24 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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, accord- 
 ing to my small model. Men ought to take 
 heed of rending God's church by two kinds of 
 controversies; the one is, when the matter of 
 the point controverted 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 
 colors;" whereupon he saith, "In veste vari- 
 etas 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 man that is of 
 judgment and understanding shall sometimes 
 hear ignorant men differ, and know well within 
 himself, that those which so differ mean one 
 thing, and yet they themselves would never 
 agree ; and if it come so to pass in that dis- 
 tance of judgment, which is between 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 pre- 
 cept that he giveth concerning the same; 
 "Devita profanas vocum novitates, et opposi- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 25 
 
 tiones falsi nominis scientiae " 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 
 false peaces, or unities; the one, when the 
 peace is grounded but upon an implicit ignor- 
 ance : for all colors will' agree in the dark : the 
 other, when it is pieced up upon a direct 
 admission of contraries in fundamental points : 
 for truth and falsehood, in such things, are 
 like the iron and clay in the toes of Nebuchad- 
 nezzar'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 dis- 
 solve 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 religion 
 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 sedi- 
 tions; to authorize conspiracies and rebellions; 
 to put the sword into the people's hands, and 
 the like, tending to the subversion of all gov- 
 ernment, which is the ordinance of God; for 
 this is but to dash the first table against the 
 second ; and so to consider men as Christians. 
 
26 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 as we forget that they are men. Lucretius 
 the poet, when he beheld the act of Agamem- 
 non, that could endure the sacrificing of his 
 own daughter, exclaimed: 
 
 "Tan turn religio potuit sua dere malonim." 
 
 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 temporal sword is to be drawn with great 
 circumspection in cases of religion, so it is a 
 thing monstrous to put it 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, lw 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, butch- 
 ery of people, and subversion of states and 
 governments? 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 ; there- 
 fore it is most necessary 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 forever those facts and opinions tending to 
 the support of the same ; as hath been already 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 27 
 
 in good part done. Surely in councils concern- 
 ing religion, that counsel of the apostle would 
 be prefixed, "Ira hominis non implet justitiam 
 Dei:" and it was a notable observation of a 
 wise father, and no less ingenuously confessed, 
 that those which 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 offense. " 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 them- 
 selves that labor in past matters. There is no 
 man doth a wrong for the w T rong's sake, but 
 thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, 
 or honor, or the like ; therefore 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 briar, which prick and scratch, 
 because they can do no other. The most tol- 
 erable sort of revenge is for those wrongs 
 
28 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 
 beforehand, and it is two for one. Some, when 
 they take revenge, are desirous the party should 
 know whence it cometh : this is the more gen- 
 erous; 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, "that we are commanded to 
 forgive our enemies ; but you never read that 
 we are commanded to forgive 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?" 
 and so of friends in a proportion. This is cer- 
 tain, 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 unfor- 
 tunate. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 29 
 
 V.— OF ADVERSITY. 
 
 It was a high speech of Seneca (after the 
 manner 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 secund- 
 arum optabilia, adversarum mirabilia. ") Cer- 
 tainly, 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 secur- 
 ity of a god. " ("Vere magnum habere fragil- 
 itatem hominis, securitatem Dei.") This 
 would have done better in poesy, where trans- 
 cendencies 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 Her- 
 cules, when he went to unbind Prometheus 
 (by whom human nature is represented), sailed 
 the length of the great ocean in an earthen pot 
 or pitcher,* ' lively describing Christian resolu- 
 tion, 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 temper- 
 ance, the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which 
 in morals is the more heroical virtue. Pros- 
 perity is the blessing of the Old Testament, 
 adversity is the blessing of the New, which 
 carrieth the greater benediction, and the clearer 
 
30 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 revelation of God's favor. 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 labored 
 more in describing the afflictions of Job than 
 the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not 
 without many fears and distastes; and advers- 
 ity 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 mel- 
 ancholy work upon a lightsome ground: judge 
 therefore, of the pleasure of the heart by the 
 pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue is like 
 precious odors, most fragrant when they are 
 incensed, or crushed : for prosperity doth best 
 discover vice, but adversity doth best discover 
 virtue. 
 
 VI.— OF SIMULATION AND DISSIM- 
 ULATION. 
 
 Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy, 
 of 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 
 politicians that are the great dissemblers. 
 
 Tacitus saith, "Li via sorted well with the 
 arts of her husband, and dissimulation of her 
 son ; attributing arts or policy to Augustus, and 
 dissimulation to Tiberius:" and again, when 
 Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms 
 against Vitellius, he saith, "We rise not 
 against the piercing judgment of Augustus, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 31 
 
 nor the extreme caution or closeness of Ti- 
 berius. " 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 showed 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 hindrance 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 can- 
 not 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 deal- 
 ing, and a name of certainty and veracity: but 
 then they were like horses well managed, for 
 they could tell passing well when to stop or 
 turn ; and at such times when they thought the 
 case indeed required dissimulation, if then they 
 used it, it came to pass that the former opinion 
 spread abroad, of their 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, dissimula- 
 tion in the negative; when a man lets fall signs 
 and arguments, that he is not that he is: and 
 
32 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 the third, simulation in the affirmative; 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 himself to a blab or a 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 
 hings in that kind; while men rather dis- 
 charge their minds than impart their minds. 
 In few words, mysteries are due to secrecy. 
 Besides (to say truth), nakedness is uncomely, 
 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 futile persons, they are commonly vain and 
 credulous 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 moral: and in this part it is 
 good that a man's face give his tongue leave to 
 speak; for the discovery of a man's self, by the 
 tracts of his countenance, is a great weakness 
 and betraying, by how much it is many times 
 more marked and believed than a man's word. 
 
 For the second, which is dissimulation, it J "ol- 
 io weth many times upon secrecy by a neces- 
 sity; 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 3o 
 
 carriage between both, and to be secret, with- 
 out swaying the balance on either side. They 
 will so beset a man with questions, and draw 
 him on, and pick it out of him, that without an 
 absurd silence, he must show an inclination 
 oneway; or if he do not, they will gather as 
 much by his silence as by his speech. As for 
 equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they can- 
 not hold out long: so that no man can be 
 secret, except he give himself a little scope c £ 
 dissimulation, which is, as it were, but th 
 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 fearful- 
 ness, or of a mind that hath some main faults; 
 which, because a man must needs disguise, it 
 maketh him practice simulation in other things, 
 lest his hand should be out of use. 
 
 The advantages of simulation and dissimula- 
 tion are three: first, to lay asleep opposition, 
 and to surprise; for where a man's intentions 
 are published, it is an alarm to call up all that 
 are against them: the second is, to reserve to 
 a man's self a fair retreat; 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 show them- 
 selves adverse ; but will (fair) let him go on, 
 and turn their freedom of speech to freedom of 
 
 3 Bacon 
 
34 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 thought; and therefore it is a good shrewd 
 proverb of the Spaniards, "Tell a lie and find 
 a troth;" as if there were no way of discovery 
 by simulation. There be also three disadvant- 
 ages to set it even ; the first, that simulation 
 and dissimulation commonly carry with them a 
 show of fearfulness, which, in any business 
 doth spoil the feathers of round flying up to 
 the mark; the second, that it puzzleth and 
 perplexeth 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 the most principal 
 instruments for action, which is trust and 
 belief. The best composition and tempera- 
 ture 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. 
 
 VII.— OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 
 
 The joys of parents are secret and so are 
 their griefs and fears; they cannot utter the 
 one, nor they will not utter the other. Chil- 
 dren sweeten labors, but they make misfor- 
 tunes more bitter; they increase the cares of 
 life, but they mitigate the remembrance of 
 death. The perpetuity by generation is com- 
 mon to beasts ; but memory, merit, and noble 
 works, are proper to men : and surely a man 
 shall see the noblest works and foundations 
 have proceeded from childless men, which have 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 35 
 
 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 toward 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 toward 
 their several children is many times un- 
 equal, and sometimes unworthy, especially in 
 the mother; as Solomon saith, "A wise son 
 rejoiceth the father, but an ungracious son 
 shames the mother. M 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, neverthe- 
 less, prove the^ best. The illiberality of 
 parents, in allowance toward 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 toward 
 their children, but not their purse. Men have 
 a foolish manner (both parents, and school- 
 masters, and servants), in creating and breed- 
 ing an emulation between brothers during 
 childhood, which many times sorteth to discord 
 when they are men, and disturbeth families. 
 The Italians make little difference between 
 children and nephews, or near kinsfolk; but 
 so they be of the lump, they care not, though 
 
36 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 they pass not through their own body; and, to 
 say truth, in nature it is much a like matter; 
 insomuch that we see a nephew sometimes re- 
 sembleth an uncle or a kinsman, more than 
 his own parent, 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 disposi- 
 tion 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 
 consuetude 1 " Younger brothers are commonly 
 fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder 
 are disinherited. 
 
 VIII.— OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE 
 LIFE. 
 
 He that hath wife and children hath given 
 hostages to fortune; for they are impediments 
 to great enterprises, either of virtue or mis- 
 chief. Certainly the best works, and of great- 
 est merit for the public, have proceeded from 
 the unmarried or childless men, which both in 
 affection and means have married and endowed 
 the public. Yet it were great reason that those 
 that have children should have greatest care 
 of future times, tinto which they know they 
 must transmit their dearest pledges. Some 
 there are who, though they lead a single life, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 3? 
 
 yet their thoughts do end with themselves, 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-pleas- 
 ing and humorous minds, which are so sen- 
 sible of every restraint, as they will go near to 
 think there girdles 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 
 judged 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 w r ives and children; and I 
 think the despising of marriage amongst the 
 Turks maketh the vulgar soldier more base. 
 Certainly wife and children are a kind of dis- 
 cipline of humanity; and single men, though 
 they be many times more charitable, because 
 their means are less exhaust, yet, on the other 
 
38 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 side, they are more cruel and hard-hearted 
 (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 husbands, as 
 was said of Ulysses, "Vetulam suam praetulit 
 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 chastity 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 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 eld- 
 er 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 neve^r 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 imagina- 
 tions and suggestions, and they come easily 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 39 
 
 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 Scripture calleth envy an 
 evil eye; and the astrologers call the evil influ- 
 ences 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 per- 
 cussion of an envious eye doth most hurt, are, 
 when the party 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 persons 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 
 envieth virtue in others; for men's minds will 
 either feed upon their own good, or upon oth- 
 ers' evil ; and who wanteth the one will prey 
 upon the other; and whoso is out of hope to 
 attain to another's virtue, will seek to come at 
 even hand, by depressing another's fortune. 
 
 A man that is busy and inquisitive is com- 
 monly 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 
 
40 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 street, and does not 
 keep home: ''Non est curiosus, quin idem sit 
 malevolus. " 
 
 Men of noble birth are noted to be envious 
 toward new men when they rise ; for the dis- 
 tance is altered : and it is like the deceit of the 
 eye, that when others come on they think 
 themselves go back. 
 
 Deformed persons and eunuchs, and the 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 heroic 
 nature, which thinketh to make his natural 
 wants part of his honor; in that it should be 
 said, "That a eunuch, or a lame man, did 
 such great matters," affecting the honor of a 
 miracle : As it was in Narses the eunuch, and 
 Agesilaus and Tamerlane, that were lame 
 men. 
 
 The same is the case of men that rise after 
 calamities and misfortunes; for they are as 
 men fallen out with the times, and think other 
 men's harms a redemption of their own suffer- 
 ings. 
 
 They that desire to excel in too many mat- 
 ters, out of levity and vain-glory, are ever en- 
 vious, for they cannot want work : it being im- 
 possible, but many, in some of those things, 
 should surpass them ; which was the character 
 of Adrian the emperor, that mortally envied 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 41 
 
 poets and painters, and artificers in works, 
 wherein he had a vein to excel. 
 
 Lastly, near kinsfolk 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 often into their remembrance, and in- 
 curreth likewise more into the note of others; 
 and envy ever redoubleth from speech and 
 fame. Cain's envy was the more vile and 
 malignant toward his brother Abel, because 
 when his sacrifice was better accepted, there 
 was nobody to look on. Thus much for those 
 that are apt to envy. Concerning those that 
 are more or less subject to envy: First, per- 
 sons of eminent virtue, when they are ad- 
 vanced, 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 comparing 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 afterward 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 luster; for fresh men men grow 
 up that darken it. 
 
 Persons of noble blood are less envied in 
 
 4 Bacon 
 
42 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 their rising; for it seemeth but right done to 
 their birth; besides, there seemeth not so 
 much added to their fortune ; 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 advanced 
 by degrees are less envied than those that are 
 advanced suddenly and "per saltum. " 
 
 Those that have joined with their honor 
 great travels, cares, or perils, are less subject 
 to envy; for men think that they earn their 
 honors 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 greatness, are ever 
 bemoaning themselves what a life they lead, 
 chanting a "quanta patimur; M 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 
 themselves; for nothing increaseth envy more 
 than an unnecessary and ambitious engross- 
 ing 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 competition : 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 43 
 
 whereas wise men will rather do sacrifice to 
 envy, in suffering themselves, sometimes of 
 purpose, to be crossed and overborne in things 
 that do not much concern them. Notwith- 
 standing 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 con- 
 scious 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 some- 
 what 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 
 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; some- 
 times 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 ostra- 
 cism, that eclipseth men when they get too 
 great ; and therefore it is a bridle also to great 
 ones, to keep them within bounds. 
 
 This envy, being in the Latin word "invi- 
 
44 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 dia, M goeth in the modern languages by the 
 name of discontentment; 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 taint- 
 eth is, so, when envy is gotten once into a state, 
 it traduceth even the best actions thereof, and 
 turneth them into an ill odor; and therefore 
 there is little won by intermingling of plaus- 
 ible actions ; for that doth argue but a weak- 
 ness and a 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 discon- 
 tentment, and the difference thereof from pri- 
 vate envy, which was handled in the first place. 
 
 We will add this in general, touching the 
 affection of envy, that of all other affections 
 it is the most importune and continual; for 
 of other affections 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 45 
 
 not so continual. It is also the vilest affec- 
 tion, and the most depraved; for which cause 
 it is the proper attribute of the devil, who is 
 called "The envious man, that soweth tares 
 amongst the wheat by night;" as it always 
 cometh to pass that envy worketh subtilely, 
 and in the dark, and to the prejudice of good 
 things, such as-is the wheat. 
 
 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 shows that great spirits 
 and great business do keep out this weak pas- 
 sion. 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 there- 
 fore 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 
 
46 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 and all noble objects, should do nothing but 
 kneel before a little idol, and make himself 
 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, 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, 
 44 That the arch flatterer, with whom all the 
 petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's 
 self;" certainly 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 im- 
 possible 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, ex- 
 cept the love be reciprocal; for it is a true rule, 
 that love is ever rewarded, either with recipro- 
 cal, 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 47 
 
 fervent, and therefore show it to be the child 
 of folly. They do best who, 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 bus- 
 iness, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh 
 men that they can nowise 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 pleasures. There is in man's nature a 
 secret inclination and motion toward love of 
 others, which, if it be not spent upon some one 
 or a few, doth naturally spread itself toward 
 many, and maketh men become humane 
 and charitable, as it is seen sometimes in 
 friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind, friendly 
 love perfecteth it, but wanton love corrupteth 
 and embaseth it. 
 
 XL— OF GREAT PLACE. 
 
 Men in great place are thrice servants — 
 servants 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 liber- 
 ty; 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 
 
48 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a 
 melancholy 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 townsmen, 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 
 opinions 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 toward 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 49 
 
 man's motion; and conscience of the same is 
 the accomplishment of man's rest: for if a 
 man can be partaker of God's theater, he shall 
 likewise be partaker of God's rest. "Etcon- 
 versus Deus, ut aspiceret opera, quae fecerunt 
 manus suae, vidit quod omnia essent bona 
 nimis;" and then the Sabbath. 
 
 In the discharge of thy place set before thee 
 the best examples ; for imitation is a globe of 
 precepts; and after a time set before thee 
 thine own example; and examine thyself 
 strictly whether thou didst not best at first. 
 Neglect not also the examples of those that 
 have carried themselves ill in the same place; 
 not to set off thyself by taxing their memory, 
 but to direct thyself what to avoid. Reform, 
 therefore, without bravery or scandal of former 
 times and persons; but j^et set it down to 
 thyself, as well to create good precedents as to 
 follow them. Reduce things to the first 
 institution, and observe wherein and how they 
 have degenerated; but yet ask counsel of both 
 times — of the ancient time what is best, and 
 of the latter time what is fittest. Seek to 
 make thy course regular, that men may know 
 beforehand what they may expect; but be not 
 too positive and peremptory; and express thy- 
 self well when thou digressest from thy rule. 
 Preserve the right of thy place, but stir not 
 questions of jurisdiction: and rather assume 
 thy right in silence, and "de facto," than 
 voice it with claims and challenges. Preserve 
 likewise the rights of inferior places; and 
 think it more honor to direct in chief than to 
 
 L 4 Bacon 
 
50 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 be busy in all. Embrace and invite 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 interlace 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 
 detestation 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 sus- 
 picion of corruption: therefore, always when 
 thou changest thine opinion 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 favorite, if 
 he be inward, and no other apparent cause of 
 esteem, is commonly thought but a byway to 
 close corruption. For roughness, it is a need- 
 less 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 bribes come but now and then; 
 but if importunity or idle respects lead a man, 
 he shall never be without; as Solomon saith, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 51 
 
 "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 showeth the man; and it showeth 
 some to the better and some to the worse." 
 "Omnium concensu capax imperii, nisi im- 
 perasset, " saith Tacitus of Galba; but of 
 Vespasian he saith, "Solus imperantium, Ves- 
 pasianus 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 honor 
 amends; for honor is, or should be, the place 
 of virtue ; and as in nature things move vio- 
 lently 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 himself 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 have reason to look 
 to be called. Be not too sensible or too 
 remembering 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." 
 
52 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 orator? 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 arts 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 generally more of the fool 
 than of the wise ; and, therefore, those facul- 
 ties 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 ignor- 
 ance and baseness, 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 sen- 
 ates and princes less ; and more, ever upon the 
 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 53 
 
 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 assem- 
 bled; 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 somew T hat of the ridiculous; for if absurd- 
 ity 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 at chess, where it is no 
 mate, but yet the game cannot 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 
 
54 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 and inconveniences: therefore, it is ill in coun- 
 sel, 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 dan- 
 gers, and in execution 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. 
 Goodness 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 
 desire of knowledge in excess caused man to 
 fall; but in charity there is no excess, neither 
 can angel or man come in danger by it. The 
 inclination to goodness is imprinted deeply in 
 the nature of man; insomuch, that if it issue 
 not toward 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; insomuch as 
 Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in Con- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 55 
 
 stantinople had like to have been stoned for 
 gagging in a waggishness a long-billed fowl. 
 Errors, indeed, in this virtue, of goodness or 
 charity, may be committed. The Italians 
 have an ungracious 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 confidence 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 goodness 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 excellent. 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 prison- 
 er. Neither give thou -^Esop'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;" but he doth not rain 
 wealth, nor shine honor and virtue upon men 
 equally: common benefits are to be communi- 
 cate 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 neighbors but the portraiture : "Sell all 
 thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow 
 
56 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 me:" but sell not all thou hast except thou 
 come and follow me; that is, except thou have 
 a vocation wherein thou may est do as much 
 good with little means as with great; the 
 otherwise, in feeding the streams, thou driest 
 for fountain. Neither is there only a habit of 
 goodness directed by right reason ; but there 
 is in some men, even in nature, a disposition 
 toward 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 forwardness, 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 sea- 
 son, 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 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 
 gracious 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 con- 
 tinent that joins to them; if he be compassion- 
 ate toward the afflictions of others, it shows 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 57 
 
 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 would wish to be 
 an anathema from Christ for the salvation of 
 his brethren, it shows much of a divine nature, 
 and a kind of conformity 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 no- 
 bility at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyran- 
 ny, as that of the Turks ; for nobility attempers 
 sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people 
 somewhat aside from the line royal: but for 
 democracies they need it not ; and they are 
 commonly more quiet and less subject to sedi- 
 tion 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, 
 notwithstanding their diversity of religion and 
 of cantons; 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 payments and 
 
58 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 sover- 
 eignty 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 inconvenience in 
 a state, for it is a surcharge of expense ; and 
 besides, it being of necessity that many of the 
 nobility fall in time to be weak in fortune, it 
 maketh a kind of disproportion between honor 
 and means. 
 
 As for nobility in particular persons, it is a 
 reverend 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 noble family, which hath 
 stood against the waves and 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 more 
 virtuous, but less innocent, than their descend- 
 ants; 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 posterity, and their faults die with them- 
 selves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth 
 industry; and he that is not industrious, en- 
 vieth he that is; besides, noble persons can 
 not go much higher; and he that standeth at 
 a stay when others rise, can hardly avoid 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 59 
 
 motions of envy. On the other side, nobility 
 extinguished the passive envy from others 
 toward them, because they are in possession 
 of honor. Certainly, kings that have able men 
 of their nobility shall find ease in employing 
 them, and a better 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 cal- 
 endars 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 secret swellings of seas 
 before a tempest, so are there in states : 
 
 "Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus 
 
 Saepe monet, f raudesque 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 disadvantage 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: 
 
 •'Illam 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 
 
60 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 seditions to come. Howsoever he noteth it 
 right, that seditious 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 great- 
 est contentment, are taken in ill sense, 
 and traduced : for that shows the envy great, 
 as Tacitus saith: "Conflata magna invidia, 
 seu bene, seu male, gest apremunt. " 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 going about to 
 stop them doth but make a wonder long-lived. 
 Also that kind of obedience, which Tacitus 
 speaketh of, is to be held suspected: "Erant 
 in officio, ced tamen qui mallent imperantium 
 mandata interpretari, quam exsequi;" disput- 
 ing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates and 
 directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, 
 and assay of disobedience; especially if in 
 those disputings they which are for the direc- 
 tion speak fearfully and tenderly, 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 extir- 
 pation of the Protestants, and presently after 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 61 
 
 the same league was turned upon himself: for 
 when the authority of princes is made but an 
 accessory to a cause, and that there be other 
 bands that tie faster than the band of sover- 
 eignty, kings begin to be put almost out of 
 possession. 
 
 Also, when discords, and quarrels, and fac- 
 tions, 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 one of 
 them is carried swiftly by the highest motion, 
 and softly in their own motion; and therefore, 
 when great ones in their own particular motion 
 move violently, and as Tacitus expresseth it 
 well, "liberius quam ut imperantium mem- 
 inissent, " 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 govern- 
 ment are mainly shaken or weakened (which 
 are religion, justice, counsel, and treasure), 
 men had need to pray for fair weather. But 
 let us pass from this part of predictions (con- 
 cerning which, nevertheless, 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 
 
62 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 seditions is of two kinds; much 
 poverty and much discontentment. It is cer- 
 tain, so many overthrown estates so many 
 votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the 
 state of Rome before the civil war: 
 
 "Hincusura vorax, rapid um que in tempore fcenus, 
 Hinc concussa fides, et multis 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 in the better sort be joined 
 with a want and necessity 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 humors in the natural, which are apt 
 to gather a preternatural heat and to inflame ; 
 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 reason- 
 able, 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:" besides, 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 63 
 
 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 vapor or fume 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, 
 innovation in religion, taxes, alteration of 
 laws and customs, breaking of privileges, gen- 
 eral oppression, advancement of unworthy per- 
 sons, strangers, dearths, disbanded soldiers, 
 factions grown desperate ; and whatsoever in 
 offending people joineth and knitteth them in 
 a common cause. 
 
 For the remedies, there may be some gen- 
 eral preservatives, whereof we will speak: as 
 for the just cure, it must answer to the partic- 
 ular 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 
 sedition whereof we spake, which is, want and 
 poverty in the estate: to which purpose 
 serveth the opening and well-balancing of 
 trade; the cherishing of manufactures; the 
 banishing of idleness; the repressing of waste 
 and excess, by sumptuary laws; the improve- 
 ment and husbanding of the soil; the regulat- 
 ing of prices of things vendible; the moderat- 
 ing of taxes and tributes, and the like. Gen- 
 erally, it is to be foreseen that the population 
 
64 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 of a kingdom (especially it 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 multiplying 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 nothing to the stock; and, in like man- 
 ner, when more are bred scholars than pre- 
 ferments can take off. 
 
 It is likewise to be remembered, that, for- 
 asmuch as the increase of any estate must be 
 upon the foreigner (for whatsoever is some- 
 where 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 will 
 flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh many 
 times to pass, that, "materiam superabit 
 opus," that the work and carriage is more 
 worth than the material, and enricheth a state 
 more: as is notably seen in the Low Country- 
 men, 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; 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 65 
 
 and money is like muck, not good except to be 
 spread. This is done chiefly by suppressing, 
 or, at least, keeping a straight 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 commonalty. When one of these is dis- 
 content, the danger is not great ; for common 
 people are of slow motion, if they be not ex- 
 cited by the greater sort; and the greater sort 
 are of small strength except the multitude be 
 apt and ready to move of themselves ; then is 
 the danger, when the greater sort do but wait 
 for the troubling of the waters among the 
 meaner, that then they may declare them- 
 selves. 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 emblem, 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 dis- 
 contentments to evaporate (so it be without 
 too great insolency or bravery), is a safe way: 
 for he that turneth the humors back, and 
 maketh the wound bleed inward, endangereth 
 malign ulcers and pernicious imposthumations. 
 
 The part of Epimetheus might well become 
 Prometheus, in the case of discontentments, 
 for there is not a better provision against 
 them. Epimetheus, when griefs and evils 
 
 5 Bacon 
 
66 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 flow abroad, at last shut the lid, and kept hope 
 in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly, the 
 politic and artificial nourishing and entertain- 
 ing of hopes, and carrying men from hopes to 
 hopes, is one of 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 peremptory but that it hath some 
 outlet of hope ; which is the less hard to do, 
 because both particular persons and factions 
 are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least 
 to brave that which they believe not. 
 
 Also the foresight and prevention, that there 
 be no likely or fit head whereunto discon- 
 tented persons 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 discontented 
 party, and upon whom they turn their eyes, 
 and that is thought discontented in his own par- 
 ticular: 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 67 
 
 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 him- 
 self infinite hurt in that speech — "Syllanescivit 
 literas, non potuit dictare;" for it did utterly 
 cut off that hope which men had entertained, 
 that he would as one time or other give over 
 his dictatorship. Galb undid himself by that 
 speech, "Legi a se militem, non emi;" for it 
 put the soldiers out of hope of the donative. 
 Probus, likewise, by that speech 44 Si vixero, 
 non opus erit amplius Romano imperio multi- 
 bus;" a speech of great despair for the sol- 
 diers, and many the like. Surely princes had 
 need in tender matters 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 inten- 
 tions ; 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 valor, near unto them, for 
 the repressing of seditions in their beginnings; 
 for without that, there useth to be more trep- 
 idation 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 
 
68 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 assured, and well reputed of, rather than 
 factious and popular; holding also good corres- 
 pondence with the other great men in the state, 
 or else the remedy is worse than the disease. 
 
 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, therefore, God never wrought 
 miracle to convince atheism, because his ordi- 
 nary 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 
 sometimes rest in them, and go no further; 
 but when it beholdeth the chain of them con- 
 federate, 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 Epicurus, 
 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 pro- 
 duced this order and beauty without a divine 
 marshal. The Scripture 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 69 
 
 himself, as that he would have, than that he 
 can 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 dis- 
 ciples, as it f areth 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 them- 
 selves? Epicurus is charged, that he did but dis- 
 semble for his credit's sake, when he affirmed 
 there were blessed natures, but such as enjoyed 
 themselves without having respect to the gov- 
 ernment 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 profanum; sed vulgi opiniones 
 Diis applicare profanum." Plato could have 
 said no more; and although he had the confi- 
 dence to deny the administration, he had not 
 the power to deny the nature. The Indians 
 of the west have names for their particular 
 gods, though they have no name for God ; as if 
 the heathens should have had the names Jup- 
 iter, Apollo, Mars, etc., but not the word 
 Deus, which shows that even those barbarous 
 
70 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 people have the notion, though they have not 
 the latitude and extent of it; so that against 
 atheists the very savages 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 hypocrites, which are ever handling holy 
 things but without feeling; so as they must 
 needs be cauterized in the end. The causes 
 of atheism are, divisions 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, 
 <4 Non est jam dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos; 
 quia nee sic populus, ut sacerdos:" a third is, 
 custom of profane scoffing in holy matters, 
 which doth by little and little deface the rev- 
 erence of religion; 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 a 
 man's nobility; for certainly man is of kin to 
 the beasts 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 magnanimity, 
 and the raising of human nature; for take 
 an example of a dog, and mark what a gener- 
 osity and courage he will put on when he finds 
 himself maintained by a man, who to him is 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 71 
 
 instead of a God, "or melior natura;" which 
 courage is manifestly 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 favor, gathereth a force 
 and faith, which human nature in itself could 
 not obtain; therefore, as atheism is in all 
 respects hateful, 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 
 volumus, licet, Patres conscripti, nos amemus, 
 tamen nee numero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, 
 nee calliditate Poenos, nee artibus Graecos, nee 
 denique hoc ipso hujus gentis et terrae domes- 
 tico nativoque sensu Italosipsos et Latinos ; sed 
 pietate, ac religione, atque hac una sapientia, 
 quod Deorum immortalium numine omnia regi, 
 gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes, 
 nationesque superavimus. " 
 
 XVII.— OF SUPERSTITION. 
 
 It were better to have no opinion of God at 
 all 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. 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 
 
72 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 there was one Plutarch that would eat his chil- 
 dren as soon as they were born;" as the poet 
 speaks of Saturn: and, as the contumely is 
 greater toward God, so the danger is greater 
 toward men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, 
 to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to 
 reputation : all which may be guides to an out- 
 ward moral virtue, though religion were not ; 
 but superstition dismounts all these, and 
 erecteth an absolute 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 in- 
 clined to atheism (as the time of Augustus 
 Caesar) were civil times; but superstition hath 
 been the confusion of many states, and bring- 
 eth in anew "primum mobile, " that ravisheth 
 all the spheres of government. The master of 
 superstition is the people, and in all supersti- 
 tion wise men follow fools: and arguments are 
 fitted to practice 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 eccen- 
 trics and epicycles, and such engines of orbs 
 to save the phenomena, though they knew 
 there was no such things; and, in like manner, 
 that the schoolmen had framed a number of 
 subtle and intricate axioms and theorems, to 
 save the practice of the Church. The causes 
 of superstition are, pleasing and sensual rites 
 and ceremonies; excess of outward and Phari- 
 saical holiness; overgreat reverence of tradi- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 73 
 
 tions, which cannot but load the Church ; the 
 stratagems of prelates for their own ambition 
 and lucre ; the favoring too much of good in- 
 tentions, which openeth the gate to conceits 
 and novelties ; the taking an aim at divine mat- 
 ters 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 de- 
 formed : 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 purg- 
 ings) the good be not taken away with the 
 bad, which commonly is done when the people 
 is the reformer. 
 
 XVIII.— OF TRAVEL. 
 
 Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of edu- 
 cation ; in the elder, a part of experience. He 
 that traveleth 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 
 
 I) Bacon 
 
74 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 what things are worthy to be seen in the 
 country where they go, what acquaintances 
 they are to seek, what exercises or discipline 
 the place yielded; 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 observation: 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 ambas- 
 sadors; the courts of justice, while they sit and 
 hear causes; and so of consistories ecclesiastic; 
 the churches and monasteries, with the monu- 
 ments which are therein extant; the walls and 
 fortifications of cities and towns; and so the 
 havens and harbors, antiquities and ruins, 
 libraries, colleges, disputations, and lectures, 
 where any are; shipping and navies; houses 
 and gardens of state and pleasure, near great 
 cities; armories, arsenals, magazines, ex- 
 changes, burses, warehouses, exercises 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 in- 
 quiry. As for triumphs, masks, feasts, wed- 
 dings, funerals, capital executions, and such 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 75 
 
 shows, men need not 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 like- 
 wise said : let him carry with him also some 
 card, or book, describing the country where 
 he traveleth, 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 another, which is a great adamant of 
 acquaintance ; 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 traveleth: let him, upon his 
 removes from one place to another, procure 
 recommendation to some person of quality 
 residing in the place whither he removeth, that 
 he may use his favor in those things he de- 
 sireth to see or know; thus he may abridge his 
 travels with much profit. As for the acquaint- 
 ance which is to be sought in travel, that which 
 is most of all profitable, is acquaintance with 
 the secretaries and employed men of ambas- 
 sadors; for so in traveling in one country he 
 shall suck the experience of many: let him also 
 see and visit eminent persons in all kinds, 
 which are of great name abroad, that he may 
 
76 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 be able to tell how the life agreeth with the 
 fame; for quarrels, they are with care and dis- 
 cretion 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 traveler returneth home, let him not leave 
 the countries where he hath traveled alto- 
 gether behind him, but maintain a correspond- 
 ence by letters 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 appear that he doth 
 not change his country manners for those of 
 foreign parts; but only prick in some flowers 
 of that he hath learned abroad into the cus- 
 toms of his own country. 
 
 XIX.— OF EMPIRE. 
 
 It is a miserable state of mind to have few 
 things to desire, and many things to fear; and 
 yet that commonly in the case of kings, who 
 being at the highest, want matter of desire, 
 which makes their minds more languishing; 
 and have many representations 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 multitude of 
 jealousies, and lack of some predominant de- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 77 
 
 sire, 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; Domitian for certainty of 
 the hand with the arrow ; Commodus for play- 
 ing at fence; Caracalla for driving chariots, 
 and the like. This seemeth incredible 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 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 superstitious and melancholy; as did Alex- 
 ander the Great, Dioclesian, and in our mem- 
 ory, Charles the Fifth, and others ; for he that 
 is used to go forward, and findeth a stop, fall- 
 eth out of his own favor, 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 over- 
 
78 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 throw?" he answered. "Nero could touch and 
 tune the harp well; but in government some- 
 times he used to wind the pins too high, some- 
 times 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 lat- 
 ter times in princes' affairs is rather fine deliv- 
 eries, and shiftings of dangers and mischiefs, 
 when they are near, than solid and grounded 
 courses to keep them aloof: but this is but to 
 try masteries with fortune; and let men be- 
 ware 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 vehe- 
 mentes, et inter se contrariae;" 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 neighbors, 
 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 circumspection be not 
 used. 
 
 First, for their neighbors, there can no gen- 
 eral rule be given (the occasions are so vari- 
 able), save one which ever holdeth; which is, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 79 
 
 that princes do keep due sentinel that none of 
 their neighbors do overgrow so (by increase of 
 territory, by embracing of trade, by approaches, 
 or the like), as they become 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 
 Fifth, Emperor, there was such a watch kept 
 that none of the three could win a palm of 
 ground, but the other two would straightway 
 balance it, either by confederation, or, if need 
 were, by a war; and would not in anywise take 
 up peace at interest ; and the like was done by 
 that league (which Guicciardini saith was the 
 security of Italy), made between Ferdinando, 
 King of Naples, Lorenzius Medicis, and Ludo- 
 vicus Sforza, potentates, the one of Florence, 
 the other of Milan. Neither is the opinion of 
 some of the schoolmen to be received, that a 
 war cannot justly be made, but upon a prece- 
 dent injury or provocation ; for there is no ques- 
 tion, 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; Roxolana, Solyman's wife, was 
 the destruction of that renowned prince, Sultan 
 Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his house 
 and succession; Edward the Second of Eng- 
 land's Queen had the principal hand in the dis- 
 posing and murder of her husband. 
 
80 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 This kind of danger is then to be feared 
 chiefly when the wives have plots for the rising 
 of their own children, or else that they be ad- 
 vou tresses. 
 
 For their children, the tragedies likewise of 
 dangers from them have been many; and gen- 
 erally the entering of fathers into suspicion of 
 their children hath been ever unfortunate. 
 
 The destruction of Mustapha's (that we 
 named before) was so fatal to Solyman's line, 
 as the succession of the Turks from Solyman's 
 until this day is suspected to be untrue, and of 
 strange blood; for that Selymus the Second 
 was thought to be suppositious. The destruc- 
 tion of Crispus, a young prince of rare toward- 
 ness, 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 Constantinus, his other 
 son, did little better, who died indeed of sick- 
 ness, but after that Julianus had taken arms 
 against him. The destruction 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 81 
 
 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 de- 
 pendence of foreign authority; or where the 
 churchmen come in and are elected, not by the 
 collation of the king or particular patrons, but 
 by the people. 
 
 For their nobles, to keep them at a distance 
 is not amiss; but to depress them may make a 
 king more absolute, but less safe, and less able 
 to perform anything he desires. It 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 continue 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 
 danger from them, being a body dispersed: 
 they may sometimes discourse high, but that 
 doth little hurt : besides, they are a counterpoise 
 to the higher nobility, that they grow not too 
 potent; and, lastly, being the most immediate 
 in authority with the common people, they do 
 best temper popular commotions. 
 
 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 
 
 6 Bacon 
 
82 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 which he wins in the hundred, he loseth in the 
 shire ; the particular rates being increased, but 
 the total bulk of trading rather decreased. 
 
 For their commons, there is little danger 
 from them, except it be where they have great 
 and potent heads, or where you meddle with 
 the ooint of religion, or their customs or means 
 of life. 
 
 For the 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 Praetorian bands of Rome; 
 but training of men, and arming them in sev- 
 eral places, and under several commanders, 
 and without donatives, are things of defense, 
 and no danger. 
 
 Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which 
 cause good or evil times; and which have 
 much veneration, but no rest. All precepts 
 concerning kings are in effect comprehended 
 in those two remembrances, "Memento quod 
 es homo;" and "Memento quod es Deus," or 
 "vice Dei." 
 
 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 particular affair; but to such as they 
 make their counselors they commit the whole; 
 by how much the more they are obliged to all 
 faith and integrity. The wisest princes need 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 83 
 
 not think it any diminution to their greatness 
 or derogation to their sufficiency to rely upon 
 counsel. God himselt is not without, but hath 
 made it one of the great names of his blessed 
 Son, "The Counselor.*' Solomon hath pro- 
 nounced that, "In counsel is stability. " 
 Things will have their first or second agita- 
 tion: if they be not tossed upon the arguments 
 of counsel, they will be tossed upon 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 forever 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 
 followeth, which was thus: they say, after 
 Jupiter was married 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 became himself, with 
 child; and was delivered of Pallas armed, out 
 of his head. Which monstrous fable contain- 
 eth a secret of empire, how kings are to make 
 
84 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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, molded 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 reputation to themselves) from 
 their head and device. 
 
 Let us now speak of the inconveniences of 
 counsel, and of the remedies. The inconven- 
 iences that have been noted in calling and 
 using counsel, are three: first, the revealing of 
 affairs, whereby they become less secret; sec- 
 ondly, the weakening of the authority of 
 princes, as if they were less of themselves; 
 thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully coun- 
 seled, and more for the good of them that 
 counsel than of him that is counseled ; for which 
 inconveniences, the doctrine of Italy, and 
 practice of France, in some kings* times, hath 
 introduced cabinet councils; a remedy worse 
 than the disease. 
 
 As to secrecy, princes are not bound to com- 
 municate all matters with all counselors, but 
 may extract and select; neither is it necessary, 
 that he that consulteth what he should do, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 85 
 
 should declare 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 rim- 
 arum 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 beyond 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 
 counselors 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 Eng- 
 land, who, in his greatest business imparted 
 himself to none, except it were to Morton and 
 Fox. 
 
 For weakening of authority, the fable show- 
 eth 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 there hath been either 
 an over-greatness in one counselor, 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, 
 tv non inveniet fidem super terram," is meant 
 of the nature of times, and not of all particular 
 
86 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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. Besides, counselors 
 are not commonly so united, but that one coun- 
 selor 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 counsel- 
 ors, as well as their counselors know them : 
 
 ''Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos." 
 
 And on the other side, counselors should not 
 be too speculative into their sovereign's per- 
 son. The true composition of a counselor 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 humor. It is of singu- 
 lar 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 reserved. In private, 
 men are more bold in their own humors ; and 
 in consort, men are more obnoxious to others' 
 humors; therefore it is good to take both; and 
 of the inferior sort rather in private, to pre- 
 serve 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 concerning 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 87 
 
 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 con- 
 siliarii mortui:" "books will speak plain when 
 counselors blanch ;" therefore it is good to be 
 conversant in them, specially 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 com- 
 mittees for ripening business for the council, 
 it is better to choose indifferent 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 com- 
 missions, save that they have greater authority. 
 
88 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 tribumtious manner; for 
 that is to clamor 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 
 upper end, in effect, sway all the business; 
 but in the other form there is more use of the 
 counselors' 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 counsel- 
 ors will but take the wind of him, and instead of 
 giving free council, will sing him a song of 
 4 ' placebo. ' 
 
 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 nobble 
 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 
 
M First put her into some discourse of estate. 
 
 Bacon' a Ess .ys. 
 
 Page 90. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 89 
 
 the beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers 
 are no more light, if they once seem light; 
 and more dangers have deceived men than 
 forced them: nay, it is better to meet some 
 dangers half-way, though they come nothing 
 near, than to keep too long a watch upon 
 approaches; for if a man watch too long, it is 
 odds that 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 
 shown on their enemies' back), and so to 
 shoot off before the time ; or to teach dangers 
 to come on by over early buckling toward 
 them, is another extreme. The ripeness or 
 unripeness of the occasion (as we said) must 
 b : very well weighed , and 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 invis- 
 ible, is secrecy in the council, and celerity in 
 the execution ; for when things are once come 
 to the execution, there is no secrecy compar- 
 able to celerity; like the motion of a bullet 
 in the air, which flieth so swift as it outruns 
 the eye. 
 
 XXII.— OF CUNNING. 
 
 We take cunning for a sinister or crooked 
 wisdom; and certainly there is great differ- 
 ence between a cunning man and a wise man, 
 not only in point of honesty, but in point of 
 
90 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 ability. There be that can pack the cards, 
 and yet cannot play well ; so there are some 
 that are good in canvasses 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 humors that are not capable 
 of the real part of business, which is the con- 
 stitution 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 aim; so as the old rule, to know 
 a fool from a wise man "Mitte ambos nudos 
 ad ignotos, et yidebis," doth scarce hold for 
 them; and, because these cunning 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 gave it in precept ; for there be many 
 wise men that have secret hearts and trans- 
 parent countenances : yet this would be done 
 with a demure debasing of your eye some- 
 times, as the Jesuits also do use. 
 
 Another is, when you have anything to 
 obtain of present dispatch, you entertain and 
 amuse the party with whom you deal with 
 some other discourse, that he be not too much 
 awake to make objections. I knew a counsel- 
 or and secretary that never came to Queen 
 Elizabeth of England with bills to sign, but 
 would always first put her into some discourse 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 91 
 
 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 consider 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 himself, 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 greater appetite in him with whom 
 you confer to know more. 
 
 And because it works better when anything 
 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 countenance than you are wont; to the 
 end, to give occasion for the party to ask what 
 the matter is of the change, as Nehemiah did, 
 4 'And I had not before 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 Marcissus did, in relating to Claudius the 
 marriage of Messalina and Silius. 
 
 In things that a man would not be seen in 
 himself, 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." 
 
92 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 by-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 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 accus- 
 tomed, to the end they may be opposed 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 there- 
 upon take advantage. I know 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 words, and discoursed 
 with divers of his friends, that he had no 
 reason to desire to be secretary in the declina- 
 tion 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, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 93 
 
 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 mat- 
 ter passed between two, to make it appear 
 from which of them it first moved and began. 
 
 It is a way that some men have, to glance 
 and dart at others by justifying themselves by 
 negatives; as to say, "This I do not;" as 
 Tigellinus did toward Burrhus, "Se non 
 diversas spessed incolumitatem imperatoris 
 simpliciter spectare. " 
 
 Some have in readiness so many tales and 
 stories, as there is nothing they would insinu- 
 ate, 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 matters 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 
 both many times surprise a man, and lay him 
 open. Like to him, that, having changed his 
 name, and walking in Paul's another suddenly 
 
94 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 came behind him and called him by his true 
 name, whereat straightway he looked back. 
 
 But these small wares and petty points of 
 cunning 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 
 resorts and falls of business that cannot sink 
 into the main of it; like a house that hath con- 
 venient stairs and entries, but never a fair 
 room ; therefore you shall see them find out 
 pretty losses in the conclusion, but are noways 
 able to examine or debate matters; and yet 
 commonly they take advantage of their inabil- 
 ity, 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 proceedings: 
 but Solomon saith, "Prudens advertit ad 
 gressus 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 them- 
 selves waste the public. Divide with reason 
 between self-love and society; and be so true 
 to thyself as thou be not false to others, espe- 
 cially to thy king and country. It is a poor 
 center of a man's actions, himself. It is right 
 earth ; for that only stands fast upon his own 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 95 
 
 center; whereas all things that have affinity 
 with the heavens, move upon the center of 
 another, which they benefit. The referring of 
 all to a man's self, is more tolerable in a sov- 
 ereign prince, because themselves are not only 
 themselves, but their good and evil is at the 
 peril of the public fortune; but it is a desper- 
 ate evil in a servant 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 the accessory. That which 
 maketh the effect more pernicious is, that 
 all proportion is lost ; it were disproportionate 
 enough for the servant's good to be preferred 
 before the master's; but yet it is a greater 
 extreme, when a little good of the servant 
 shall carry 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 master's fortune; and certainly 
 it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as they 
 will set a house on fire, and it were but to roast 
 their eggs; and yet these men many times 
 
96 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 hold credit with their masters because their 
 study is but to please them, and profit them- 
 selves, and for either respect they will abandon 
 the good of their affairs. 
 
 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 wis- 
 dom 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 speci- 
 ally to be noted, is, that those which (as Cicero 
 says of Pompey) are "sui amantes, sinerivali," 
 are any times unfortunate; and whereas they 
 have all their times sacrificed to themselves, 
 they become in the end themselves sacrifices 
 to the inconstancy of fortune, whose wings 
 they thought by their self-wisdom 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 honor into their family 
 are commonly 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 perverted, hath a natural 
 motion strongest in continuance; but good, 
 as a forced motion, strongest at first. Surely, 
 every medicine is an innovation, and he that 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 97 
 
 will not apply new remedies must expect new 
 evils; for time is the greatest innovator; and 
 if time of course alter things to the worse, and 
 wisdom and counsel shall not alter 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 in- 
 conformity: besides, they are like strangers, 
 more admired and less favored. All this is 
 true, if time stood still: which, contrariwise, 
 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 other- 
 wise, 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 
 
 7 Bacon 
 
98 BACON'S 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 danger- 
 ous 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 busi- 
 ness: and, as in races, it is not the large stride, 
 or high lift, that makes the speed; so in busi- 
 ness, the keeping close to the matter, and not 
 taking of it too much at once, procure th dis- 
 patch. It is the care of some, only to come off 
 speedily for the time, or to contrive some false 
 periods of business, because they may seem 
 men of dispatch : but it is one thing to abbrevi- 
 ate by contracting, another by cutting off; 
 and business so handled at several sittings, or 
 meetings, goeth commonly backward and for- 
 ward 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." 
 
 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 99 
 
 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 continuance 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 memory, than he could have been if 
 he had gone on in his own course; but some- 
 times 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 frivolous speech as it is coming forth. 
 Long and curious speeches are as fit for dis- 
 patch as a robe, or mantle, with a long train, 
 is for a 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 
 requireth 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 
 
 Lore, 
 
100 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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. Whereof, 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 con- 
 ceived in writing, doth for the most part facil- 
 itate dispatch; 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 be- 
 tween nations, certainly, it is so between man 
 and man; for as the apostle saith of godliness, 
 " Having a show of godliness, but denying the 
 power thereof;" so certainly there are, in 
 points of wisdom and sufficiency, that do noth- 
 ing, or little very solemnly; 4i 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 them- 
 selves they speak of that they do not well 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 101 
 
 know, would nevertheless seem to others to 
 know of that which they may not well speak. 
 Some help themselves with countenance 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, altero 
 ad frontem sublato, altero ad mentum depresso 
 supercilio; crudelitatem tibi non placere. " 
 Some think to bear it by speaking a great 
 word, and being peremptory; and go on, and 
 take by admittance that which they cannot 
 make good. Some, whatsoever 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 in Prodicus in scorn, and 
 maketh him make a speech that consisteth of 
 distinctions from the beginning to the end. 
 Generally such men, in all deliberations, 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 requireth a 
 new work: which false point of wisdom is the 
 bane of business. To conclude, there is no 
 decaying merchant, or inward beggar, hath so 
 many tricks to uphold the credit of wealth as 
 these empty persons have to maintain the 
 
102 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 some- 
 what 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 aversion toward society in 
 any man hath somewhat of the savage beast; 
 but it is most untrue that it should have any 
 character at all of the divine nature, except it 
 proceed, not out of a desire 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, the Candian ; Numa, 
 the Roman; Empedocles, the Sicilian; and 
 Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really in 
 divers of the ancient hermits 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 103 
 
 neighborhoods; but we may go further, and 
 aitirm most truly, that it is a mere and miser- 
 able solitude to want true friends, without 
 which the world is but a wilderness ; and even 
 in this sense also of solitude, whosoever 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; 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 confession. 
 
 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 in- 
 convenience. The modern languages give 
 
104 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 unto such persons the name of favorites, or 
 privadoes, as if it were matter of grace, or con- 
 versation ; 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 passionate 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 man- 
 ner, using the word which is received between 
 private men. 
 
 L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised 
 Pompey (after surnamed the Great) to that 
 height that Pompey vaunted himself for 
 Sylla's overmatch; 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, Pom- 
 pey 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 
 Caesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that in- 
 terest, 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 Caesar would 
 have discharged the senate, in regard of some 
 ill presages, and specially a dream of Calphur- 
 nia, this man lifted him gently by the arm out 
 of his chair, telling him he hoped he would not 
 dismiss the senate till his wife had dreamt a 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 105 
 
 better dream; and it seemeth his favor was so 
 great, as Antonius, in a letter which is recited 
 verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, calleth 
 him "venefica," — "witch;" as if he had en- 
 chanted Caesar. Augustus raised Agrippa 
 (though of mean birth) to that height, as, when 
 he consulted with Maecenas about the marriage 
 of his daughter Julia, Maecenas 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 Caesar, 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, "Haec pro 
 amicitia nostra non occultavi/' and the whole 
 senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to 
 a goddess, in respect of the great dearness of 
 friendship between them two. The like, or 
 more, was between Septimius Severus and 
 Plautianus; for he forced his eldest son to 
 marry the daughter of Plautianus, and would 
 often maintain Plautianus in doing affronts 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 good- 
 ness 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 prov- 
 eth most plainly that they found their own 
 felicity (though as great as ever happened to 
 
 8 Bacon 
 
106 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 mortal men) but as an half-piece, except 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 
 observeth 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 toward his latter 
 time that closeness did impair and a little per- 
 ish his understanding. Surely, Comineus 
 might have made the same judgment also, if it 
 had pleased him, of his second master, Louis 
 the Eleventh, 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 
 (w T herewith I will conclude this first fruit of 
 friendship), 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 im- 
 parteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the 
 more; and no man that imparteth his griefs to 
 his friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it 
 is, in truth, of operation upon a man's mind of 
 like virtue as the alchymists used to attribute 
 to their stone for man's body, that it worketh 
 all contrary effects, but still to the good and 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 107 
 
 benefit of nature: but yet, without praying in 
 aid of alchymists, there is a manifest image of 
 this in the ordinary course of nature ; for, in 
 bodies, union strengtheneth and cherisheth any 
 natural action : and, on the other side, weak- 
 eneth and dulleth any violent impression; and 
 even so is it 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 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 
 understanding do clarify and break up in the 
 communicating and discoursing with another; 
 he tosseth his thoughts more easily; he mar- 
 shaleth 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 medita- 
 tion. It was well said by Themistocles to the 
 king of Persia, "That speech was like cloth of 
 Arras, opened and put abroad; whereby 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 
 understanding, restrained only to such friends 
 as are able to give a man counsel (they indeed 
 are best), but even without that a man learn- 
 
108 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 eth 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 friend- 
 ship complete, that other point which lieth 
 more open, and falleth within vulgar observa* 
 tion : 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 receiveth by counsel 
 from another, is drier and purer than that 
 which cometh from his own understanding 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 faithful 
 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 morality is a little flat and dead; observing 
 our faults in others is sometimes improper for 
 our case ; but the best recipe (best I say to 
 work and best to take) is the admonition of a 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 109 
 
 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 for- 
 get their own shape and favor. " As for bus- 
 iness, a man may think, if he will, that two 
 eyes see no more than one ; or, that a game- 
 ster seeth always more than a looker-on ; or, 
 that a man in anger is as wise as he that 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 
 imaginations, 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 bus- 
 iness 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 counseled; for it is a rare thing, ex- 
 cept 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 
 physican, that is thought good for the cure of 
 the disease you complain of, but is unac- 
 
110 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 quainted with your body ; and, therefore, may 
 put you in a way for a present cure, but over- 
 throweth 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 
 business, how he dasheth upon other incon- 
 venience, and therefore, rest not upon scattered 
 counsels; they will rather distract and mis- 
 lead, than settle and direct. 
 
 After these two noble fruits of friendship 
 (peace in the affections, and support of the 
 judgment), followeth the last fruit, which is 
 like the pomegranate, full of many kernels; I 
 mean aid, and bearing 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 then it will appear 
 that it was a sparing speech of the ancients 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 friendship 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 can- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. Ill 
 
 not, with any face or comeliness, say or do 
 himself? A man can scarce allege his own 
 merits 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 graceful 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 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 
 enumerate 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 EXPENSE. 
 
 Riches are for spending, and spending for 
 honor and good actions; therefore extraordi- 
 nary expense must be limited by the worth of 
 the occasion ; for voluntary undoing may be as 
 well for a man's country as for kingdom of 
 heaven ; but ordinary expense ought to be lim- 
 ited 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 show, that the bills may be 
 less than the estimation abroad. Certainly, if 
 a man will keep but of even hand, his ordi- 
 nary expenses ought to be but to the half of his 
 receipts; and if he think to wax rich, but to 
 
112 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 the third part. It is no baseness for the great- 
 est to descend and look into their own estate. 
 Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, 
 but doubting to bring themselves into melan- 
 choly, in respect they shall find it broken : but 
 wounds cannot be cured 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 now 
 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 ex- 
 pense, 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 expense of all kinds will hardly 
 be preseived 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 disad- 
 vantageable as interest. Besides, he that clears 
 at once will relapse; for finding himself out of 
 straits, he will revert to his customs : but he 
 that cleareth by degrees induceth a habit of 
 frugality, andgaineth 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 dishonorable 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. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 113 
 
 XXIX. —OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OP 
 KINGDOMS AND ESTATES. 
 
 The speech of Themistocles, the Athenian, 
 which was haughty and arrogant, in taking so 
 much to himself, had been a grave and wise 
 observation and censure, applied at large to 
 others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he 
 said, "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 different abilities in those that deal 
 in business of estate ; for if a true survey be 
 taken of counselors and statesmen, there may 
 be found (though rarely) those which can make 
 a small state great, and yet cannot 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 counselors and gov- 
 ernors gain both favor with their masters and 
 estimation with the vulgar, deserve no better , 
 name than fiddling; being things rather pleas- 
 ing for the time, and graceful to themselves 
 only, than tending to the weal and advance- 
 ment of the state which they serve. There 
 are also (no doubt) counselors and governors 
 which many be held sufficient, "negotiis 
 pares," able to manage affairs, and to keep 
 them from precipices and manifest inconven- 
 iences; which, nevertheless, are far from the 
 
 8 Bacon 
 
114 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 ability to raise and amplify an estate in power, 
 means, and fortune: but he 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-measur- 
 ing their forces, they lose themselves in vain 
 enterprises: nor, on the other side, by under- 
 valuing them, they descend to fearful and 
 pusillanimous counsels. 
 
 The greatness of an estate, in bulk and terri- 
 tory, doth fall under measure ; and the great- 
 ness of finances and revenues doth fall under- 
 computation. The population may appear by 
 musters; and the number and greatness of 
 cities and towns by cards and maps; but yet 
 there is not anything 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 or command; and some that 
 have but a small dimension 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, ele- 
 phants, ordnance, artillery, and the like; all 
 this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the 
 breed and disposition of the people be stout 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 115 
 
 and warlike. Nay, number itself in armies 
 importeth not much, where the people is of 
 weak courage; for, as, Virgil 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 some- ■ 
 what astonish the commanders in Alexander's 
 army, who came to him, therefore, and wished 
 him to set upon them by night; but he an- 
 swered, "He will not pilfer the victory:" and 
 the defeat was easy. When Tigranes, the 
 Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with 
 four hundred thousand men, discovered the 
 army of the Romans, being not above fourteen 
 thousand, marching toward 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 infinite 
 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 military men. 
 
 Neither is money the sinews of war (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 showed him his gold), "Sir, if any other, 
 come that hath better iron than you, he wily\ 
 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 
 
116 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 other side, that have subjects of martial dispo- 
 sition, know their own strength, unless 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 be- 
 tween burdens; neither will it be, that a 
 people overlaid with taxes should ever become 
 valiant and martial. It is true that taxes, lev- 
 ied 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 impos- 
 ing, be all one to the purse, yet it works 
 diversely upon the courage. So that you may 
 conclude, that no people overcharged with trib- 
 ute is fit for empire. 
 
 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 
 laborer. Even as you may see in coppice 
 woods ; if you leave your staddles too thick, 
 you shall never have clean underwood, but 
 shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 117 
 
 gentlemen be too many, the commons will be 
 base ; and you will bring it to that, that not 
 the hundred poll will be fit for a helmet: espe- 
 cially as to the infantry, which is the nerve of 
 an army ; and so there will be great popula- 
 tion and little strength. This which I speak 
 of hath been nowhere better seen than by com- 
 paring of England and France ; whereof Eng- 
 land, though far less in territory and popula- 
 tion, hath been (nevertheless) an overmatch ; 
 in regard the middle people of England 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 husban- 
 dry of a standard ; that is, maintained with such 
 a proportion of land unto them as may breed 
 a subject to live in convenient plenty, and no 
 servile condition ; 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 : 
 
 "Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae. M 
 
 Neither is that state (which, for anything I 
 know, is almost peculiar to England, and 
 hardly to be found anywhere 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 way 
 inferior unto the yeomanry of arms; and, 
 therefore, out of all question, the splendor and 
 magnificence, and great retinues, and hospi- 
 
118 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 tality of noblemen and gentlemen received into 
 custom, do much conduce unto martial great- 
 ness; whereas, contrariwise, the close and re- 
 served 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 is, that the natural subjects of the 
 crown, or state, bear a sufficient proportion to 
 the stronger subjects that they govern; there- 
 fore all states that are liberal of naturalization 
 toward strangers are fit for empire; for to 
 think that a handful of people can, with the 
 greatest courage and policy in the world, em- 
 brace 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 natu- 
 ralization; whereby, while they kept their 
 compass, they stood firm ; but when they did 
 spread, and their boughs were becoming too 
 great for their stem, they became a windfall 
 upon the sudden. Never any state was, 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 naturalization (which they called "jus 
 civitatis"), and to grant it in the highest de- 
 gree, that is, not only "jus commercii, jus 
 connubii, jus haereditatis;" but also, "jus 
 suffragii," and "jus honorum;" and this not to 
 singular persons alone, but likewise to whole 
 families; yea, to cities, and sometimes to 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 119 
 
 nations. Add to this their custom of planta- 
 tion 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 marveled 
 sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and con- 
 tain so large dominions 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 natu- 
 ralize liberally, yet they have that which is 
 next to it; that is, to employ, almost indiffer- 
 ently, 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, appear- 
 eth. 
 
 It is certain, that sedentary and within-door 
 arts, and delicate manufacturers (that require 
 rather the figure than the arm), have in their 
 nature a contrariety 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 vigor; 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 manufacturers; but that is abolished, in 
 
120 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 greatest part, by the Christian law. That 
 which cometh nearest to it is, to leave those 
 arts chiefly to strangers (which, for that pur- 
 pose, are the more easily to be received), and 
 to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar 
 natives within those three kinds, tillers of the 
 ground, free servants, and handicraftsmen of 
 strong and manly arts; as smiths, masons, 
 carpenters, etc. , not reckoning professed sol- 
 diers. 
 
 But, above all, for empire and greatness, it 
 importeth most, that a nation do profess arms 
 as their principal honor, study, and occupa- 
 tion ; for the things which we formerly have 
 spoken of are but habilitations toward 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 com- 
 posed to that scope and end; the Persians and 
 Macedonians had it for a flash; the Gauls, 
 Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others, 
 had it for a time : the Turks have it at this 
 day, though in great declination. Of Chris- 
 tian Europe, they that have it are in effect only 
 the Spaniards : but it is so plain, that every 
 man profiteth in that he most intendeth, 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 great- 
 ness fall into their mouths; and, on the other 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 121 
 
 side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that 
 those states that continue long in that profes- 
 sion (as the Romans and Turks principally 
 have done) do wonders; and those that have 
 professed arms but for an age have, notwith- 
 standing, 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 pre- 
 tended) of war; for there is that justice im- 
 printed 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 honor to their generals when it was 
 done, yet they never rested upon that alone to 
 begin a war: first, therefore, let nations that 
 pretend to greatness have this, that they be 
 sensible of wrongs, either upon borderers, 
 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 succors to their confederates ; as it ever 
 was with the Romans; insomuch, as if the 
 confederate had leagues defensive with divers 
 other states, and, upon invasion offered, did 
 implore their aids severally, yet the Romans 
 
122 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 would ever be the foremost, and leave it to 
 none other to have the honor. As for the wars, 
 which were anciently made on the behalf of a 
 kind of party of tacit conformity of estate, I 
 do not see how they may be well justified: as 
 when the Romans made a war for the libertv 
 of Graecia: or, when the Lacedaemonians and 
 Athenians made wars to set up or pull down 
 democracies and oligarchies: or when wars 
 were made by foreigners, under the pretense 
 of justice or protection, 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. 
 
 No body can be healthful without exercise, 
 neither natural body nor politic ; and, certainly, 
 to a kingdom or estate, a just and honorable 
 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, and serveth to 
 keep the body in health ; for in a slothful 
 peace, both courages will effeminate and man- 
 ners corrupt: but howsoever it be for happi- 
 ness, 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 reputation amongst all neighbor 
 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. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 123 
 
 To be master of the sea is an abridgment of 
 a monarchy. Cicero, writing 'to Atticus, of 
 Pompey's preparation against Caesar, saith, 
 "Consilium Pompeii 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 de- 
 cided the empire of the world; the battle of 
 Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk. 
 There may 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 
 battles. But this 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 doweries of this kingdom of 
 Great Britain) is great; both because most of 
 the kingdoms of Europe are not merely in- 
 land, but girt with the sea most part of their 
 compass; and because the wealth of both 
 Indies seems, in great part, but an accessory 
 to the command of the seas. 
 
 The wars of latter ages seem to be made 
 in the dark, in respect of the glory and honor 
 which reflected upon men from the wars in 
 ancient time. There be now, for martial 
 encouragement, some degrees and orders of 
 chivalry, which, nevertheless, are conferred 
 
124 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 trophies erected upon the place of 
 the victory; the funeral laudatives and monu- 
 ments for those that died in the wars ; the 
 crowns and garlands personal; the style of 
 emperor with the great kings of the world 
 after borrowed; the triumphs of the generals 
 upon their return; the great donatives and 
 largesses upon the disbanding of the armies, 
 were things able to inflame all men's cour- 
 ages; but above all, that of the triumph 
 amongst the Romans was not pageants, or 
 gaudery, but one of the wisest and noblest 
 institutions that ever was: for it contained 
 three things ; honor to the general, riches to 
 the treasury out of the spoils, and donatives to 
 the army : but that honor, perhaps were not 
 fit for monarchies, except it be in the person 
 of the monarch himself, or his sons; as it came 
 to pass in the times of the Roman emperors, 
 who did impropriate 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 con- 
 clude: no man can by care taking (as the 
 Scripture saith), tc add a cubit to his stature,' ' 
 in this little model of a man's body; but in 
 the great frame of kingdoms and common- 
 wealths, it is in the power of princes, or 
 estates, to add amplitude and greatness to 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 125 
 
 their kingdoms for by introducing such ordi- 
 nances, 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 conclusion to say, "This agreeth not well 
 with me, therefore I will not continue it;" 
 than this, 4t I find no offense of this, therefore 
 I may use it:" for strength of nature in youth 
 passeth over many excesses 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 force 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. Ex- 
 amine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise, 
 apparel, and the like; and try, in anything 
 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 distinguish 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 
 
126 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 cheerfully disposed at hours of meat, and of 
 sleep and' of exercise, is one of the best pre- 
 cepts of long lasting. As for the passions and 
 studies of the mind, avoid envy, anxious fears, 
 anger fretting inwards, subtle and knotty in- 
 quisitions, joys and exhilarations in excess* 
 sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes, 
 mirth rather than joy, variety of delights, 
 rather than surfeit of them ; wonder and admir- 
 ation, 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 command rather 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. 
 Despise no new accident in your body, but ask 
 opinion of it. In sickness, respect health prin- 
 cipally; 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 
 interchange contraries, but with an inclina- 
 tion to the more benign extreme: use fasting 
 and full eating, but rather full eating; watch- 
 ing and sleep, but rather sleep; sitting and 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 127 
 
 exercise, but rather exercise, and the like: so 
 shall nature be cherished, and yet taught mas- 
 teries. Physicians are some of them so pleas- 
 ing and comfortable to the humor of the 
 patient, as they press not the true cure of the 
 disease: and some others are so regular in 
 proceeding according to art not 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, com- 
 bine 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. 
 
 XXXI.— OF SUSPICION. 
 
 Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats 
 amongst 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 VII. of England; there was not a more 
 suspicious man nor a more stout: and in such 
 a composition they do small hurt; for com- 
 monly they are not admitted, but with exam- 
 ination, whether they be likely or no; but in 
 fearful natures they gain ground too fast. 
 There is nothing makes a man suspect much 
 
128 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 more than to know little ; and therefore men 
 should remedy suspicion by procuring 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 account 
 upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle 
 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 nourished, 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 suspic- 
 ions, 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 dis- 
 charge itself. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 129 
 
 XXXII.— OF DISCOURSE. 
 
 Some in their discourse desire rather com- 
 mendation of wit, in being able to hold all 
 arguments, than of judgment, in discerning 
 what is true; as if it were a praise to know 
 what might be said, and not what should be 
 thought. Some have certain commonplaces 
 and themes, wherein they are good, and want 
 variety; which kind of poverty is for the most 
 part tedious, and, when it is once perceived, 
 ridiculous. The honorablest part of talk it 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 argu- 
 ments, 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 anything 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 
 deserveth pity ; yet there be some that think 
 their wits have been asleep, except they dart 
 out somewhat that is piquant, and to the 
 quick; that is a vein which would be bridled; 
 
 "Parce, puer, stimulis et fortuis utere loris." 
 
 And generally, men ought to find the differ- 
 ence between saltness and bitterness. Cer- 
 tainly he that hath a satirical vein, as he 
 
 9 Bacon 
 
130 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had 
 need be afraid of others' memory. He that 
 questioneth much, shall learn much, and con- 
 tent 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 themselves in speaking, and himself 
 shall continually 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 turn 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 used 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 
 at 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 him- 
 self with good grace and that is in commend- 
 ing virtue in another, especially if it be such 
 a virtue whereunto himself pretendeth. 
 Speech of touch toward others should be spar- 
 ingly 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 one would 
 ask of those who had been at the other's table, 
 4 'Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 131 
 
 blow given? To which the guest would 
 answer, "Such and such a thing passed." 
 The lord would say, 4t I thought he would mar 
 a good dinner. M Discretion of speech is more 
 than eloquence; and to speak agreeably to 
 him with whom we deal, is more than to speak 
 in good words, or in good order. A good 
 continued speech without a good speech of 
 interlocution, shows slowness, and a good 
 reply, or second speech, without a good settled 
 speech, showeth 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 circumstances, ere one come to 
 the matter, is wearisome; to use none at all 
 is blunt. 
 
 XXXIIL— OF PLANTATIONS. 
 
 Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, 
 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 
 kingdoms. 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 planting of woods; for you 
 must make account to lose almost twenty years 
 profit, and expect your recompense in the end : 
 for the principal thing that hath been the 
 destruction of most plantations, has been the 
 
132 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 base and hasty drawing of profit in the first 
 years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be 
 neglected, as far as may stand with the good 
 of the plantation, but no farther. 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, laborers, smiths, car- 
 peters, 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 con- 
 sider 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 
 labor; but with peas and beans you may 
 begin, both because they ask less labor, 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, 
 oatmeal, flour, meal, and the like, in the begin- 
 ning, till bread may be had. For beasts, or 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 133 
 
 birds, take 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 plantation ought to be 
 expended almost as in a besieged .town ; that is 
 with certain allowance: and let the main part 
 of the ground employed to gardens or corn, be 
 to a common stock; and to be laid in and 
 stored up, and then delivered out in propor- 
 tion; besides some spots of ground that any 
 particular person will manure for his own 
 private use. Consider, likewise, what com- 
 modities 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 abound- 
 eth 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 uncer- 
 tain, and useth to make the planters lazy in 
 other things. For government, let it be in the 
 hands of one, assisted with some counsel ; and 
 
134 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 let them have commission to exercise martial 
 laws, with some limitation; and above all, let 
 men make that profit of being in the wilder- 
 ness, as they have God always and his service 
 before their eyes: let not the government of 
 the plantation depend upon too many counsel- 
 ors and undertakers in the country that plant- 
 eth, but upon a temperate number: and let 
 those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than 
 merchants; for they look ever to the present 
 gain. Let there be freedoms from custom, till 
 the plantation be of strength: and not only 
 freedom from custom, but freedom to carry 
 their commodities where they make their best 
 of them except there be some special cause of 
 caution. 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 endanger- 
 ing to the health of some plantations, 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 built still rather 
 upward from the streams, than along. It 
 concerneth likewise the health of the planta- 
 tion, that they have good store of salt with 
 them, that they may use it in their victuals 
 when it shall be necessary. If you plant where 
 savages are, do not only entertain them with 
 trifles and gingles, but use them justly and 
 graciously, with sufficient guard nevertheless; 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 135 
 
 and do not win their favor by helping them to 
 invade their enemies, but for their defense 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 planta- 
 tion may spread into generations, and not be 
 every pieced from without. It is the sinful- 
 est thing in the world to forsake or destitute a 
 plantation once in forwardness; for, besides 
 the dishonor, it is the guiltiness of blood of 
 many commiserable persons. 
 
 XXXIV.— RICHES. 
 
 I cannot 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 
 behind, 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 Solomon, "Where 
 much is, there are many to consume it; and 
 what hath the owner but the sight of 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 dona- 
 tive 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? 
 
136 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 
 stronghold 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 abstract nor friarly contempt of 
 them; but distinguished, as Cicero saith well 
 of Rabirius Posthumus, "In studio rei ampli- 
 ficandae apparebat, non avaritiae praedam, sed 
 instrumentum bonitati quaeri. ' ' 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 
 labor pace slowly; but when they come by the 
 death of others (as by the course of inheritance, 
 testaments, and the like), they come tumbling 
 upon a man : but it might be applied likewise 
 to Pluto, taking him for the devil: for when 
 riches come from the devil (as by fraud and 
 oppression, 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 137 
 
 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 hus- 
 bandry, it multiplieth riches exceedingly. I 
 knew a nobleman in England that had the 
 greatest audits of any man in my time, a great 
 grazer, 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, 
 44 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 indus- 
 tries 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 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 naught; as for the chop- 
 ping 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 
 
 10 Bacon 
 
138 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 vultus alieni;" and besides, 
 doth plough upon Sundays: but yet certain 
 though it be, it hath flaws; for that the scriv- 
 eners 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 sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in 
 riches, as it was with the first sugarman in the 
 Canaries: therefore if a man can play the true 
 logician, to have as well judgment as inven- 
 tion, he may do great matters, especially if the 
 times be fit : he that resteth upon gains cer- 
 tain, shall hardly grow to great riches; and he 
 that puts all upon adventures, doth oftentimes 
 break and come to poverty : it is good, there- 
 fore, to guard adventures with certainties that 
 may uphold losses. Monopolies, and co-emp- 
 tion of wares for resale, where they are not 
 restrained, are great means to enrich; espe- 
 cially if the party have intelligence what things 
 are like to come into 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 humors, and 
 other servile conditions, they may be placed 
 amongst the worst. As for fishing for testa- 
 ments and executorships (as Tacitus saith of 
 Seneca, "testamentaet orbostanquam indagine 
 capi"), it is yet worse, by how much men sub- 
 mit themselves to meaner persons than in serv- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 139 
 
 ice. Believe not much them that seem to de- 
 spise 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 themselves, 
 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 advance- 
 ments by quantity, but frame them by meas- 
 ure: 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. 
 
 XXXV.— OF PROPHECIES. 
 
 I mean not to speak of divine prophecies, 
 nor of heathen oracles, nor of natural predic- 
 tions; but only of prophecies that have been 
 of certain memory, and from hidden causes. 
 Saith the Pythonissa to Saul, "To-morrow thou 
 and thy sons 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. 
 
140 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 Seneca 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- 
 sayer told him his wife was with child, because 
 men do not use to seal vessels that are empty. 
 A phantasum that appeared to M. Brutus in 
 his tent, said to him, "Philippis iterum me 
 videbis. " Tiberius said to Galba, "Tuquoque, 
 Galba, degustabis imperium. " In Vespasian's 
 time there went a prophecy 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 Savior, yet Tacitus ex- 
 pounds 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 Sev- 
 enth, when he was a lad, and gave him water, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 141 
 
 1 ' 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 hus- 
 band 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 spunne 
 England's done:" 
 
 whereby it was generally conceived, that after 
 the princes had reigned which had the princi- 
 pal letters of the word hempe (which were 
 Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth), 
 England should come to utter confusion ; which 
 thanks be to God, is verified only in the change 
 of the name; for that the king's style is now 
 no more of England, but of Britain. There 
 was also another prophecy before the year of 
 eighty-eight, which I do not w r ell understand. 
 
 "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 built houses of lime and stone, 
 For after wars shall you have none. ' ' 
 
 It was generally conceived to be meant of the 
 
142 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 Spanish 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 dragon : and it was 
 expounded of a maker of sausages, that troubled 
 him exceedingly. There are numbers of the 
 like kind; especially if you include dreams, 
 and predictions of astrology: but I have set 
 down these few only of certain credit, for 
 example. My judgment is that they ought all 
 to be despised, and ought to serve but for win- 
 ter talk by the fireside: though when I say 
 despised, I mean it as for belief; for other- 
 wise, 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; 
 w r hile the nature of man, which coveteth divin- 
 ation, thinks it no peril to foretell that which 
 indeed they do but collect; as that of Sen- 
 eca's verse; for so much was then subject to 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 143 
 
 demonstration, that the globe of the earth had 
 great parts beyond the Atlantic, which might 
 be probably conceived not to be all sea: and 
 added thereto the tradition in Plato's Timse- 
 mus, 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. 
 
 XX.XVL— OF AMBITION. 
 
 Ambition is like choler, which is a humor 
 that maketh men active, earnest, full of alac- 
 rity, and stirring, if it be not stopped : but if it 
 be stopped, and can not have its way, it 
 becometh a dust, and thereby malign and 
 venomous: so ambitious 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 
 ambitious 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 service, they will take 
 order to make their service fall with them. 
 But since we have said, it were good not to use 
 
144 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 am- 
 bitious; for the use of their service dispenseth 
 with the rest: and to take a soldier without 
 ambition, is to pull off his 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 that part except he 
 be like a seeled dove, that mounts and mounts, 
 because he cannot see about him. There is 
 use also of ambitious 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 dan- 
 gerous. 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 popular; 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 favorites; but it is, of all 
 others, the best remedy against ambitious 
 great ones; for when the way of pleasuring 
 and displeasuring lieth by the favorite, 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 counselors, to keep 
 things steady ; for without that ballast the ship 
 will roll too much. At the least, a prince may 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 145 
 
 animate and inure some meaner persons to be, 
 as it were, scourges to ambitious 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 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 favors and disgraces, whereby 
 they may not know what to expect, and be as 
 it were, in a wood. Of ambitions, it is less 
 harmful the ambition to prevail in great things, 
 than that other to appear in everything; for 
 that breeds confusion, and mars business: but 
 yet, it is less danger to have an ambitious man 
 stirring in business than great in dependencies. 
 He that seeketh to be eminent among stable 
 men, hath a great task ; but that is ever good 
 for the public ; but he that plots to be the only 
 figure among ciphers, is the decay of a whole 
 age. Honor hath three things in it; the van- 
 tage 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 aspireth, is an honest 
 man; and that prince that can discern of these 
 intentions in another that aspireth, is a wise 
 prince. Generally, let princes and states 
 choose such ministers 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. 
 
 10 Bacon 
 
146 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 XXXVII.— OF MASQUES AND TRI- 
 UMPHS. 
 
 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 aloof, 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 curios- 
 ity; and, generally, let it be noted, that those 
 things which I here set down are such as do 
 naturally take the sense, and not respect petty 
 wonderments.' 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 colored and varied; and let 
 the masques, or any other that are to come 
 down from the scene, have some motions upon 
 the scenes itself before their coming down ; for 
 it draws the eye strangely, and makes it with 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 147 
 
 great pleasure to desire to see that, it cannot 
 perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud and 
 cheerful, and not chirpings or pullings: let 
 the music likewise be sharp and loud, and well 
 placed. The colors that show 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 embroidery, it is lost, and not dis- 
 cerned. Let the suits of the masquers be 
 graceful, and such as become the person when 
 the vizors are off; not after examples of known 
 attires; Turks, soldiers, mariners, and the like. 
 Let anti-masques not be long; they have been 
 commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild men, 
 antics, beasts, sprites, witches, Ethiopes, pig- 
 mies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, Cupids, 
 statues, moving, and the like. As for angels, 
 it is not comical enough to put them in anti- 
 masques: and anything 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 
 odors suddenly 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 state and variety: 
 but all is nothing, except the room be kept 
 clear 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 
 
148 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 beasts: as lions, bears, camels, and the like; 
 or in the devices of their entrance, or in the 
 bravery of their liveries, or in the goodly- 
 furniture of their horses and armor. But 
 enough of these toys. 
 
 XXXVIIL— OF NATURE IN MEN. 
 
 Nature is often hidden, sometimes overcome, 
 seldom extinguished. Force maketh nature 
 more violent in the return ; doctrine and dis- 
 course 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 
 failings, and the second will make him a small 
 proceeder, though by often prevailings; and 
 at the first, let him practice with helps, as 
 swimmers do with bladders, or rushes, but, 
 after a time, let him practice with disadvan- 
 tage, as dancers do with thick shoes; for it 
 breeds great perfection, if the practice be 
 harder than the use. Where nature is mighty, 
 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 for- 
 bearing 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 enfranchise himself at once, 
 that is the best : 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 149 
 
 "Optimus ille attimi vindex lsedentia 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 extreme is no vice. Let 
 not a man force a habit upon himself with a 
 perpetual continuance, but with some inter- 
 mission: for both the pause reinforceth the 
 new onset; and if a man that is not perfect, be 
 ever in practice, he shall as well practice his 
 errors as his abilities, and induce one habit of 
 both; and there is no means to help this but 
 by seasonable intermission; 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 ^Esop's damsel, turned from a 
 cat to a woman, who sat very demurely at the 
 board's end till a mouse ran before her: there- 
 fore, let a man either avoid the occasion alto- 
 gether, or put himself often to it, that he 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 ex- 
 periment, for there custom leaveth him. They 
 are happy men whose natures sort with their 
 vocations; 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 
 
150 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 for any set times; for his thoughts will fly to 
 it of themselves, so as the spaces of other busi- 
 ness or studies will suffice. A man's nature 
 runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore, let 
 him seasonably water the one, and destroy the 
 other. 
 
 XXXIX.— OF CUSTOM AND EDUCA- 
 TION. 
 
 Men's thoughts are much according to their 
 inclination: their discourse and speeches ac- 
 cording to their learning and infused opinions; 
 but their deeds are after as they have been 
 accustomed : and, therefore, as Machiavel well 
 noteth (though in an evil-favored instance), 
 there is no trusting to the force of nature, nor 
 to the bravery of words, except it be corrobor- 
 ate by custom. His instance is, that for the 
 achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man 
 should not rest upon the fierceness of any man's 
 nature, or his resolute undertakings; but take 
 such a one as hath had his hands formerly in 
 blood; but Machiavel knew not of a Friar 
 Clement, nor 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 resolution is made equipollent to 
 custom even in matter of blood. In other 
 things, the predominancy of custom is every- 
 where visible, insomuch as a man would won- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 151 
 
 der to hear men profess, protest, 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 of 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 corpses of their husbands. The lads of 
 Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to be 
 scourged upon the altar of Diana, without so 
 much as quecking. I remember, in the begin- 
 ning 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 withe, 
 and not in a halter, because it had been so 
 used with former rebels. There be 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: 
 therefore, since custom is the principal magis- 
 trate of man's life, let men by all means en- 
 deavor 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 afterward; for it is true, that late 
 learners cannot so well take the ply, except it 
 be in some minds that have not suffered them- 
 
152 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 selves to fix, but have kept themselves open 
 and prepared to receive continual amendment, 
 which is exceeding rare: but if the force of 
 custom, 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 raiseth ; so as in such places 
 the force of custom is in his exultation. Cer- 
 tainly, the great multiplication of virtues upon 
 human nature resteth upon societies well or- 
 dained and disciplined; for commonwealths 
 and good governments do nourish virtue grown, 
 but do not much mend the seeds: but the mis- 
 ery is, that the most effectual means are now 
 applied to the ends least to be desired. 
 
 XL.— OF FORTUNE. 
 
 It cannot be denied, but outward accidents 
 conduce much to fortune ; favor, opportunity, 
 death of others, occasion fitting virtue: but 
 chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is in his 
 own hands: "Faber quisque fortunse suae," 
 saith the poet ; and the most frequent of exter- 
 nal 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 Span- 
 ish name, "disemboltura," partly expresseth 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 153 
 
 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 quocungue loco natus 
 esset, fortunam sibi facturus viderotur"), fall- 
 eth upon that that he had "versatile ingen- 
 ium:" therefore, if a man look sharply and 
 attentively, 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 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 virtues, or rather facul- 
 ties 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 ; there- 
 fore, extreme lovers of their country, or mas- 
 ters, were never fortunate ; neither can they 
 be ; for when a man placeth his thoughts with- 
 out himself, he goeth not his own way. A 
 hasty fortune maketh an enterpriser and 
 remover (the French hath it better, "entrepre- 
 nant," or "remuant") ; but the exercised 
 fortune maketh the able man. Fortune is to 
 be honored and respected, and it be but for her 
 daughters, Confidence and Reputation; for 
 
154 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 those two Felicity breedeth ; the first within a 
 man's self, the latter in others toward him. 
 All wise men, to decline the envy of their own 
 virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence and 
 Fortune; for so they may the better assume 
 them : and, besides, it is greatness in a man to 
 be the care of the higlier powers. So Caesar 
 said to the pilot in the tempest, "Csesarem 
 portas et fortunam ejus." So Sylla chose the 
 name of " Felix," and not of " Magnus:" and 
 it hath been noted, that those who ascribe 
 openly too much to their own wisdom and pol- 
 icy, end unfortunate. It is written, that Timo- 
 theus, 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 undertook afterward. Certainly 
 there be, whose fortunes are like Homer's 
 verses, that have a slide and easiness more 
 than the verses of other poets; as Plutarch 
 saith of Timol eon'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. 
 
 XLL— OF USURY. 
 
 Many have made witty invectives against 
 usury. They say that it is a 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 Sun- 
 day, that the usurer is the drone that Virgil 
 speaketh of: 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 155 
 
 "Ignavum fucos pectis 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-taw r ny bonnets, 
 because they do Judaize; that it is against 
 nature for money to beget money, and the 
 like. I say this only, that usury is a "con- 
 cessum 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 proposi- 
 tions 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 merchandising, which is the "vena 
 porta' ' of wealth in a state: the second, that it 
 makes poor merchants; for as 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 
 
156 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 decay of customs of kings, or states, which 
 ebb or flow with merchandising: the fourth, 
 that it bringeth the treasure of the 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 flourisheth 
 when wealth is more equally spread: the fifth, 
 that it beats down the price of land ; for the 
 employment of money is chiefly either mer- 
 chandising, or purchasing, and usury waylays 
 both: the sixth, that it doth dull and damp all 
 industries, improvements, 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 pro- 
 cess of time breeds a public poverty. 
 
 On the other side, the commodities of usury 
 are, first, that howsoever usury in some 
 respect hindereth merchandising, 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 sud- 
 den undoing, in that they would be forced to 
 sell their means (be it lands or goods), far un- 
 der foot, and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw 
 upon them, bad markets would swallow them 
 quite up. As for mortgaging or pawning, it 
 will little mend the matter: for either men 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 157 
 
 will not take pawns without use, or if they do, 
 they will look precisely for the forfeiture. I 
 remember a cruel moneyed man in the coun- 
 try, that would say, "The devil take this usury, 
 it keeps us from forfeitures of mortgages and 
 bonds. " The third and last is, that it is a 
 vanity to conceive that there would be ordinary 
 borrowing without profit; and it is impossible 
 to conceive the number of inconveniences that 
 will ensue, if borrowing be cramped: there- 
 fore 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 regle- 
 ment of usury, how the discommodities of it 
 may be best avoided, and the commodities re- 
 tained. It appears, by the balance of com- 
 modities 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 moneyed men to lend to the 
 merchants, for the continuing and quickening 
 of trade. This cannot 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 borrower, 
 but the merchant will be to seek for money; 
 and it is to be noted, that the trade of mer- 
 chandise 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; 
 
158 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 the one free and general for all ; the other 
 under license only to certain persons, and in 
 certain places of merchandising. First, there- 
 fore, let usury in general 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 same ; 
 this will preserve borrowing from any general 
 stop or dryness; this will ease infinite bor- 
 rowers in the country; this will, in good part, 
 raise the price of land, because land pur- 
 chased 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 industries and 
 profitable improvements, because many will 
 rather venture in that kind, than take five in 
 the hundred, especially having been used to 
 greater profit. Secondly, let there be certain 
 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 whatsoever; let it be no bank or common 
 stock, but every man be master of his own 
 money; not that I altogether mislike banks, 
 but they will hardly be brooked, in regard of 
 certain 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; 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 159 
 
 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, but restrained to certain 
 principal cities and towns of merchandising; 
 for then they will be hardly able to color other 
 men's moneys in the country; so as the license 
 of nine will not suck away the current rate of 
 five; for no. man will send his moneys far off, 
 nor put them into unknown hands. 
 
 If it be objected that this doth in a sort 
 authorize usury, which before was in some 
 places but permissive ; the answer is, that it is 
 better to mitigate usury by declaration, than 
 to suffer it to rage by connivance. 
 
 XLIL— 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 perturba- 
 tions, are not ripe for action till they have 
 passed the meridian of their years : as it was 
 with Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus; of 
 the latter of whom it is said, "Juventutem 
 
160 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 egit erroribus, imo furoribus plenam;" and 
 yet he was the ablest emperor, almost, of all 
 the list; but reposed natures may do well in 
 youth, as it is seen in Augustus Caesar, Cos- 
 mos Duke of Florence, Gaston de Foix, and 
 others. On the other side, heat and vivacit}^ 
 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 busi- 
 ness ; for the experience 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, with- 
 out consideration of the means and degrees; 
 pursue some few principles which they have 
 chanced upon absurdly; care not to innovate, 
 which draws unknown inconveniences; 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, consult too long, adventure too little, 
 repent too soon, and seldom drive business 
 home to the full period, but content them- 
 selves with a mediocrity of success. Certainly 
 it is good to compound employments of both; 
 for that will be good for the present, because 
 the virtues of either age may correct the 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 161 
 
 defects of both ; and good for succession, that 
 young men may be learners, while men in age 
 are actors; and, lastly, good for extreme acci- 
 dents, because authority followeth old men, 
 and favor and popularity youth : but for the 
 moral part, perhaps, youth will have the pre- 
 eminence, as age hath for the politic. A cer- 
 tain 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 intoxicateth : and age 
 doth profit rather in the powers of understand- 
 ing, than in the virtues of the will and affec- 
 tions. There be some have an over-early 
 ripeness in their years, which fadeth betimes: 
 there are, first, such as have brittle wits, the 
 edge whereof is soon turned: such as was 
 Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books are 
 exceeding subtle, who afterward waxed stupid: 
 a second sort is of those that have some natural 
 disposition, 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, "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 
 uphold; as was Scipio Africanus, of whom 
 Livy saith, in effect, "Ultima primis cede- 
 bant." 
 
 11 Bacon 
 
162 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 XLIIL— OP 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 beautiful persons are otherwise of 
 great virtue; as if nature were rather busy not 
 to err, than in labor to produce excellency ; 
 and therefore they prove accomplished, but 
 not of great spirit; and study rather behavior, 
 than virtue. But this holds not always ; for 
 Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, Philip le 
 Bel of France, Edward the Fourth of England, 
 Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the Ephy of 
 Persia, were all high and great spirits, and yet 
 the most beautiful men of their times. In 
 beauty, that of favor, is more than that of 
 color ; and that of decent and gracious motion, 
 more than that of favor. 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 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 163 
 
 that maketh an excellent air in music), 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 
 decent motion, certainly it is no marvel, 
 though persons in years seem many times 
 more amiable; "Pulchrorum autumnus pul- 
 cher ;" for no youth can be comely but by par- 
 don, and considering the youth as to make up 
 the comeliness. Beauty is as summer 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 mak- 
 eth virtues shine, and vices blush. 
 
 XLIV.— OF DEFORMITY. 
 
 Deformed persons are commonly even with 
 nature ; for as nature has done ill by them so 
 do they by nature, being for the most part (as 
 the Scripture saith), "voidof natural affection;" 
 and so they have their revenge of nature. 
 Certainly there is a consent between the body 
 and the mind, and where nature erreth in the 
 one, she venture th 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 necessity in the frame of his 
 body, the stars of natural inclination are some- 
 times obscured by the sun of discipline and 
 virtue; therefore it is good to consider of 
 deformity, not as a sign which is more deceiv- 
 
164 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 able, but as a cause which seldom faileth of 
 the effect. Whosoever hath anything fixed 
 in his person that doth not induce contempt, 
 hath also a perpetual spur in himself to secure 
 and deliver himself from scorn ; therefore, all 
 deformed persons are extreme bold; first, as 
 in their own defense, 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 toward 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 ancient times (and at this present in 
 some countries) were wont to put great trust 
 in eunuchs, because they that are envious 
 toward all are more obnoxious and officious 
 toward one ; but yet their trust toward them 
 hath rather been as to good spials, and good 
 whisperers, than good magistrates and offi- 
 cers: 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 marveled, 
 if sometimes they prove excellent persons; as 
 was Agesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 165 
 
 yEsop, 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 unwholesome, 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 diver- 
 sity of heat and cold as if you dwelt in several 
 places. Neither is it ill air only that maketh 
 an ill seat; but ill ways, ill markets, and, if 
 you will consult with Momus, ill neighbors. I 
 speak not of many more; want of water, want 
 of wood, shade, and shelter, want of fruit- 
 fulness, 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 discom- 
 modity of their overflowing ; too far off from 
 the great cities, which may hinder business; 
 
266 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 or too near them, which lurcheth all provision 
 and maketh everything dear; where a man 
 hath a great living laid together; and where 
 he is scanted; all which, as it is impossible 
 perhaps 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 galleries and rooms so large and 
 lightsome, in one of his houses, said: " Surely 
 an excellent place for summer, but how do 
 you in winter?" Lucullus answered, "Why, 
 do you not think me as wise as some fowls are, 
 that ever change their abode toward the 
 winter?" 
 
 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 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 
 perfect 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 returns, but parts of 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 167 
 
 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 parlor, 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 tower, I would have it two stories, of 
 eighteen foot high apiece above the two wings; 
 and a goodly leads upon the top, railed with 
 statues interposed ; and the same tower to be 
 divided into rooms, as shall be thought fit. 
 The stairs likewise to the upper rooms, let 
 them be upon a fair open newel, and finely 
 railed in with images of wood cast into a brass 
 color; 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 
 
168 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 staircases, cast into turrets on 
 the outside, and not within the row of build- 
 ings themselves : but those towers are not to 
 be of the height of the front, but rather pro- 
 portionable to the lower building. Let the 
 court not be paved, for that striketh up a 
 great heat in summer, and much cold in win- 
 ter: 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 gal- 
 leries: in which galleries let there be three or 
 five fine cupolas in the length of it, placed at 
 equal distance, and fine colored 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 afternoon. Cast it 
 also, that you may have rooms both for sum- 
 mer 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 toward the street) ; 
 for they be pretty retiring places for confer- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 169 
 
 ence; and besides, they keep both the wind 
 and sun off ; for that which would strike almost 
 through the room doth scarce pass the win- 
 dow: 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 toward the garden, 
 let it be turned to grotto, or place of shade, or 
 estivation: and only have opening and win- 
 dows toward the garden, and be level upon the 
 floor, no whit sunk under ground, to avoid all 
 dampishness: and let 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 galleries ; 
 whereof you must foresee that one of them be 
 for an infirmary, if the prince or any special 
 persons should be sick, with chambers, bed- 
 chamber, "anticamera, " and "recamera, " join- 
 ing to it ; thus upon the second story. Upon 
 the ground story, a fair gallery, open, upon 
 pillars; and upon the third story, likewise an 
 open gallery upon pillars, 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 can be thought ur>on. In 
 
 12 Bacon 
 
170 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 the tipper gallery, too, I wish that there may 
 be, if the place will yield it, some fountains 
 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 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. 
 
 « 
 
 XLVL— 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 handiworks; and a man shall ever 
 see, that, when ages grow to civility and ele- 
 gancy, 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 171 
 
 the latter part of November, you must take 
 such things as are green all winter: holly, ivy, 
 bays, juniper, cypress-tree, yew, pineapple- 
 trees; fir-trees, rosemary, lavender; periwin- 
 kle, the white, the purple, and the blue; ger- 
 mander, flags, orange-trees, lemon-trees, and 
 myrtles, if they be stoved; and sweet majoram, 
 warm set. There followeth, for the latter 
 part of January and February, the mezereon- 
 tree which then blossoms: crocus vernus, both 
 the yellow and the gray; primroses, anemo- 
 nes, the early tulip, the hyacinthus orientalis, 
 chamairis fritellaria. For March, there comes 
 violets, especially the single blue, which are 
 the earliest ; the yellow daffodil, the daisy, the 
 almond-tree in blossom, the peach-tree in blos- 
 som, the cornelian-tree in blossom, sweet-briar. 
 In April follow the double white violet, the 
 wall-flower, the stock-gilliflower, the cowslip, 
 flower-de-luces, and lilies of all natures; rose- 
 mary-flowers, the tulip, the double peony, the 
 pale daffodil, 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, specially the blush-pink; 
 roses of all kinds, except the musk, which 
 comes later; honeysuckles, strawberries, bu- 
 gloss, columbine, the French marigold, flos 
 Africanns, cherry-tree in fruit, ribes, figs in 
 fruit, rasp, 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 
 
172 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 all varieties, musk-rcses, the lime-tree in blos- 
 som, 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 colors. In 
 September come grapes, apples, poppies of all 
 colors, jpeaches, melocotones, nectarines, cor- 
 nelians, wardens, quinces. In October, and 
 the beginning of November come services, 
 medlars, bullaces, roses cut or removed to 
 come late, holly-oaks, and such like. These 
 particulars are for the climate of London ; but 
 my meaning is perceived, that you may have 
 "Ver perpetuum, " as the place affords. 
 
 And because the breath of flowers is far 
 sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes, 
 like the warbling 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, like- 
 wise, yield no smell as they grow, rosemary 
 little, nor sweet majoram; that which, above 
 all others, yields the sweetest smell in the air, 
 is the violet, especially the white double vio- 
 let, which comes twice a year, about the mid- 
 dle of April, and about Bartholomew tide. 
 Next to that is the musk-rose; then the straw- 
 berry leaves dying, with a most excellent cor- 
 dial smell ; then the flowers of the vines, it is 
 a little dust like the dust of a bent, which 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 173 
 
 grows upon the cluster in the first coming 
 forth; then sweet-briar, then wall-flowers, 
 which are very delightful to be set upon a par- 
 lor or lower chamber window ; then pinks and 
 gilliflowers, especially the matted pink and 
 clove gilliflower ; then the flowers of the lime- 
 tree ; then the honeysuckles, so they be some- 
 what afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak not, 
 because they are field flowers; but those which 
 perfume the air most delightfully, not passed 
 by as the rest, but being trodden upon and 
 crushed, are there; that is, burnet, wild thyme, 
 and water- 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 green in the entrance, a heath, or 
 desert, in the going forth, and the main gar- 
 den in the midst, besides alleys on both sides ; 
 and I like well that four acres of ground be 
 assigned to the green, six to the 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 than green grass kept finely shorn ; the 
 other, because it will give you a fair alley in 
 the midst, by which you may go in front upon 
 a stately hedge, 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 garden by going in the 
 
174 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 sun through the green, therefore 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 fig- 
 ures, with divers colored earths, that they may 
 lie under 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 carpen- 
 ter'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 carpen- 
 ter'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 fig- 
 ure, with broad plates of round colored 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 hedge from the green; nor at the 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 175 
 
 further end, for letting your prospect from 
 the hedge through the arches upon heath. 
 
 For the ordering of the ground within the 
 great hedge, I leave it to variety of device ; 
 advising, nevertheless, that whatsoever form 
 you cast it into first, it be not too bushy, or 
 full of work: wherein I, for my part, do not 
 like images cut out in juniper or other garden 
 stuff; they be for children. Little low hedges, 
 round like wells, 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 cir- 
 cles, without any bulwarks or embossments; 
 and the whole mount to be thirty foot high, 
 and some fine banqueting-house with some 
 chimneys neatly cast, and without too much 
 glass. 
 
 For fountains, they are a great beauty 
 and refreshment; but pools mar all, and 
 make the garden unwholesome and full of 
 flies and frogs. Fountains I intend to be of 
 two natures: the one that sprinkleth or 
 spouteth water: the other a fair receipt 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 mat- 
 ter is so to convey the water, as it never stay, 
 
176 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 either in the bowls or in the cistern: that the 
 water be never by rest discolored green, or 
 red, or the like, or gather any mossiness or pu- 
 trefaction; besides that, it is to be cleaned 
 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 w r ith images: the sides, likewise; 
 and withal embellished with colored glass, and 
 such things of lustre ; encompassed also with 
 fine rails of low statures: but the main point 
 is the same which we mentioned in the former 
 kind of fountain ; which is, that the water be 
 in perpetual motion, fed by a water higher 
 than the pool, and delivered 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 waters without 
 spilling, and making it rise in several forms 
 (of feathers, drinking-glasses, canopies, and 
 the like) ; they be pretty things to look upon, 
 but nothing to health and sweetness. 
 
 For the heath, which was the third part of 
 our plot, I wish 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-briar and honeysuckle, and some wild 
 vine amongst; and the ground set with violets, 
 strawberries, and primroses; for these are 
 sweet, and prosper in the shade; and these to 
 be in the heath here and there, not in any or- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 177 
 
 der. I like also little heaps, in the nature of 
 mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), to be 
 set, some with wild thyme, some with pinks, 
 some with germander, that gives a good flow- 
 er 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 blos- 
 soms), red currants, gooseberries, rosemary, 
 bays, sweet-briar, 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 graveled, 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 flow- 
 
 12 Bacon 
 
178 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 ers, but thin and sparingly lest they deceive 
 the trees. At the end of both the 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 arbors 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 gar- 
 den is for the more temperate parts of the 
 year, and, in the heat of summer for the morn- 
 ing and the evening or overcast days. 
 
 For aviaries, I like them not, except they 
 be of that largeness as they may be turfted, 
 and have living plants and bushes set in them; 
 that the birds may have more scope and natu- 
 ral nesting, and that no foulness appear in the 
 floor of the aviary. So I have made a plat- 
 form of a princely garden, partly by precept, 
 partly by drawing; not a model, but some gen- 
 eral 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 work- 
 men with no less cost set their things together, 
 and sometimes add statues and such things, 
 for state and magnificence, but nothing to the 
 true pleasure of a garden. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 179 
 
 XLVIL— OF NEGOTIATING. 
 
 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 when it may serve for a man's justi- 
 fication afterward to produce his own letter; 
 or where it may be danger to be interrupted, 
 or heard by pieces. To deal in person is good, 
 when a man's face breedeth regard, as com- 
 monly with inferiors; or in tender cases when 
 a man's eye upon the countenance of him with 
 whom, he speaketh, may give him a direction 
 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 satisfac- 
 tion sake. Use also such persons as affect the 
 business wherein they are employed, for that 
 quickeneth much ; and such as are fit for the 
 matter, as bold men for expostulation, fair- 
 spoken men for persuasion, crafty men for in- 
 quiry and observation, froward and absurd men 
 for business that doth not well bear out itself. 
 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 
 
180 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 better to sound a person with whom one deals 
 afar off than to fall upon the point at first, ex- 
 cept 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 honester man. All practice is to discover, 
 or to work. Men discover 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 disadvan- 
 tages, and so awe him, or those that have 
 interest in him, and so govern him. In deal- 
 ing with cunning persons, we must ever con- 
 sider their ends, to interpret their speeches ; 
 and it is good to say little to them, and that 
 which they least look for. In all negotiations 
 of difficulty, a man may not look to sow and 
 reap at once ; but must prepare business, and 
 so ripen it by degrees. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 181 
 
 XLVIIL— 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 wearisome and importune in suits. 
 Ordinary followers ought to challenge no 
 higher conditions than countenance, recom- 
 mendation, and protection from wrongs. Fac- 
 tious followers are worse to be liked, which 
 follow not upon affection to him with whom 
 they range themselves, but upon discontent- 
 ment conceived against some other; where- 
 upon commonly ensueth that ill intelligence, 
 that we many times see between great person- 
 ages. Likewise glorious followers, who make 
 themselves as trumpets of the commendation 
 of those they follow, are full of inconveniences, 
 for they taint business through want of secrecy ; 
 and they export honor from a man and make 
 him a return in envy. There is a kind of fol- 
 lowers, 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 favor; for 
 they are officious, and commonly exchange 
 tales. The following by certain estates of 
 men answerable to that which a great person 
 himself prof esse th (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 without too much 
 
182 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 pomp or popularity, but the most honorable 
 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 no 
 eminent odds in sufficiency it is better to take 
 with the more passable, than w r ith 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 extraordinary, is to make them insolent 
 and the rest discontent; because they may 
 claim a due : but contrariwise in favor, to use 
 men with much difference and election is good ; 
 for it maketh the persons preferred more 
 thankful, and the rest more officious : because 
 all is of favor. It is good discretion not to 
 make too much of any man at the first ; because 
 one cannot hold out that proportion. To be 
 governed (as we call it) by one, is not safe ; 
 for it shows 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 honor; 
 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 over honorable; for lookers-on many 
 times see more than gamesters: 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 magnified. 
 That that is, is between superior and inferior 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 183 
 
 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 per- 
 formance. 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 means they will be content to win a 
 thank, or take a second reward, or at least, to 
 make use in the meantime 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, gen- 
 erally to make other men's business a kind of 
 entertainment to bring in their own: nay, 
 some undertake suits with a full purpose to let 
 them fall ; to the 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 controversy, or a right 
 of desert, if it be a suit of petition. If affec- 
 tion lead a man to favor the wrong side in just- 
 ice, let him rather use his countenance to com- 
 pound the matter than to carry it. If affection 
 lead a man to favor the less worthy in desert, 
 let him do it without depraving or disabling 
 
184 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 w r hether he may deal in them 
 with honor: but let him choose well his refer- 
 endaries, 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 honorable but also 
 gracious. In suits of favor, the first coming 
 out to take little place ; so far forth considera- 
 tion may be had of his trust, that if intelligence 
 of the matters 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 sim- 
 plicity; 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 forwardness 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 
 show himself neither dejected nor discontented. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 185 
 
 "Iniquum petas, ut aequum feras, M is a good 
 rule, where a man hath strength of favor; but 
 otherwise 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 favor. 
 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 infection to public proceed- 
 ings. 
 
 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 
 discourse ; and for ability, is in the judgment 
 and disposition of business; for expert men 
 can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, 
 one by one : but the general counsels, and the 
 plots and marshaling of affairs come best from 
 those that are learned. To spend too much 
 time in stories is sloth: to use them too much 
 for ornament, is affectation; to make judg- 
 ment wholly by their rules, is the humor of a 
 scholar: they perfect nature, and are perfected 
 by experience: for natural 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 
 
186 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 them ; for they teach not their own use ; but 
 that is a wisdom; without them and above 
 them, won by observation. Read not to con- 
 tradict and confute, nor to believe and take for 
 granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to 
 weigh and consider. Some books are to be 
 tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few 
 to be chewed and digested ; 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 arguments 
 and the meaner sort of books; else distilled 
 books are, like common distilled waters, flashy 
 things. Reading maketh a full man ; confer- 
 ence 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 need have much cunning, to seem to 
 know that he doth not. Histories make men 
 wise; poets, witty; the mathematics, subtile; 
 natural philosophy, deep ; moral, grave ; logic 
 and rhetoric, able to contend : " Abeunt studia 
 in mores," nay, there is no stand or impedi- 
 ment in the wit, but may be wrought out by 
 fit studies: like as diseases 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- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 187 
 
 matics; for in demonstrations, his wit be 
 called away never so little, he must begin 
 again ; if his wit be not apt to distinguish or 
 find difference, let him study the schoolmen ; 
 for they are "Cymini 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 per- 
 son to govern his proceedings, according to the 
 respect of factions, is a principal part of policy ; 
 whereas, contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom is 
 either, in ordering those things which are gen- 
 eral, and wherein men of several factions do 
 nevertheless agree, or in dealing with corres- 
 pondence to particular 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 them- 
 selves indifferent and neutral: yet even in 
 beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be 
 a man of the one faction, which is most pas- 
 sable with the other, commonly giveth best 
 way. The lower and weaker faction is the 
 firmer in conjunction; 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 extinguished, the remaining subdi- 
 
188 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 videth; as the faction between Lucullus and 
 the rest of the nobles of the senate (which 
 they called "opti mates ) held out a while 
 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 Cas- 
 sius were overthrown, then soon after Antonius 
 and Octavianus brake and subdivided. These 
 examples are of wars, but the same holdeth 
 in private factions: and therefore, those that 
 are seconds in factions, do many times, when 
 the faction subdivideth, prove principals; but 
 many times also they prove ciphers and cash- 
 iered; for many a man's strength is in opposi- 
 tion; 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 fac- 
 tion lightly goeth away with it, for when mat- 
 ters 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 modera- 
 tion, 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 comune:" 
 and take it to be a sign of one that meaneth to 
 refer all to the greatness of his own house. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 189 
 
 Kings had need beware how they side them- 
 selves and made 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 sov- 
 ereignty, 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 mo- 
 tions (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. " 
 
 LIL— OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 
 He that is only real, had need have exceed- 
 ing 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 commen- 
 dation of men, as it is in gettings and gains: 
 for the proverb is true, " That light gains make 
 heavy purses ; M for light gains come thick, 
 whereas great come but now and then: so it is 
 true, that small matters win great commenda- 
 tion, because they are continually in use and 
 in note: whereas the occasion 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 letters com- 
 mendatory, to have good forms; to attain 
 
190 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 labor too much to express them, he shall 
 lose their grace ; which is to be natural and 
 unaffected. Some men's behavior is like a 
 verse, wherein every syllable is measured; 
 how can a man comprehend great matters, 
 that breaketh his mind too much to small 
 observations? Not to use ceremonies 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 therefore it is 
 good a little to be familiar. He that is too 
 much in anything, so that he giveth another 
 occasion of satiety, maketh himself cheap. To 
 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, 
 generally 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 con- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 191 
 
 dition ; if you allow his counsel, let it be with 
 alleging further reason. Men had need beware 
 how they be too perfect in compliments ; for 
 they be never so sufficient otherwise, their 
 enviers will be sure to give them that attribuie, 
 to the disadvantage of their greater virtues. 
 It is loss also in business to be too full of 
 respects, or to be too curious in observing times 
 and opportunities. Solomon saith, "He that 
 considereth 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 behavior should be like their 
 apparel, not too straight or point device, but 
 free for exercise or motion. 
 
 LIII.— OF PRAISE. 
 
 Praise is the reflection of virtue ; but it is 
 glass, or body, which giveth the reflection. If 
 it be from the common people, it is commonly 
 false and naught, and rather followeth vain 
 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 perceiving at all; but shows 
 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 per- 
 sons of quality and judgment concur, then it 
 is (as the Scripture saith), "Nomen bonum 
 
192 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 instar unguenti fragrantis:" it filleth all round 
 about, and will not easily away ; for the odors 
 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 cer- 
 tain common attributes, which may serve every 
 man ; if he be a cunning flatterer, he will fol- 
 low the arch-flatterer, which is a man's self, 
 and wherein a man thinketh best of himself, 
 therein the flatterer will uphold him most: 
 but if he be an impudent 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 praecipere;" when by telling men 
 what they are they represent to them what 
 they should be; some men are praised malic- 
 iously to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and 
 jealously toward them; "Pessimum genus 
 inimicorum laudantium; ,, 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; cer- 
 tainly, 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 
 

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BACON'S ESSAYS. 193 
 
 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 praise of notable contempt and scorn 
 toward civil business; for they call all tem- 
 poral business of wars, embassages, judica- 
 ture, and other employments, sbirrerie, which 
 is tmder-sheriffries, as if they were but mat- 
 ters for under-sheriffs and catchpoles ; though 
 many times those under-sheriffries do more 
 good than their high speculations. St. Paul, 
 when he boasts of himself, he doth oft inter- 
 lace, "I speak like a fool;" but speaking of his 
 calling, he saith, "Magnificabo apostolatum 
 meum. ' ' 
 
 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 moveth 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, 4i Beaticoup 
 
 13 Bacon 
 
194 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 de bruit, peu de fruit;" — "much bruit, little 
 fruit." Yet, certainly, there is use of this 
 quality in civil affairs : where there is an opin- 
 ion and fame to be created, either of virtue or 
 greatness, these men are good trumpeters. 
 Again, as Titus Livius noteth, in the case of 
 Antiochus and the JEtolians, there are some- 
 times great effects of cross lies ; as if a man 
 that negotiates between two princes, to draw 
 them to join in a war against the third, doth 
 extol the forces of either of them above meas- 
 ure, 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, it often falls out, that some- 
 what is produced of nothing; for lies are. suf- 
 ficient to breed opinion, and opinion brings on 
 substance. In military commanders and sol- 
 diers, vain-glory is an essential point ; for as 
 iron sharpens iron, so by glory, one courage 
 sharpeneth another. In cases of great enter- 
 prise upon charge and adventure, a composi- 
 tion of glorious natures doth put life into busi- 
 ness ; and those that are of solid and sober na- 
 tures, have more of the ballast than of the sail. 
 In fame of learning, the flight will be slow 
 without some feathers of ostentation: "Qui 
 de contemnenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen 
 suum inscribunt. ' ' Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, 
 were men full of ostentation : certainly, vain- 
 glory helpeth to perpetuate a man's memory; 
 and virtue was never so beholden to human 
 nature, as it received its due at the second 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 195 
 
 hand. Neither had the fame of Cicero, Sen- 
 eca, Plinius Secundus, borne her age so well if 
 it had not been joined with some vanity in 
 themselves; like unto varnish, that makes ceil- 
 ings not only shine, but last. But all this 
 while, when I speak of vain-glory, I mean not 
 of that property that Tacitus doth attribute to 
 Mucianus, "Omnium, quae dixenat feceratque, 
 arte quadam ostentator:" for that proceeds not 
 of vanity, but of natural magnanimity 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 
 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, 4< In commending another, 
 you do yourself right; for he that you com- 
 mend is either superior to you in that you com- 
 mend, 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 
 parasites, and the slaves of their own vaunts. 
 
 LV.— OF HONOR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 The winning of honor is but the revealing of 
 a man's virtue and worth without disadvan- 
 tage ; for some in their actions do woo and 
 affect honor and reputation; which sort of 
 men are commonly much talked of, but in- 
 
196 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 wardly little admired: and some, contrariwise, 
 darken their virtue in the show of it; so as 
 they be undervalued in opinion. If a man per- 
 form 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 honor than by 
 affecting a matter of greater difficulty or vir- 
 tue, wherein he is but a follower. If a man so 
 temper his actions, as in some one of them he 
 doth content every faction or combination of 
 people, the music will be the fuller. A man 
 is an ill husband of his honor that entereth 
 into any action, the failing wherein may dis- 
 grace him more than the carrying of it through 
 can honor him. Honor that is gained and 
 broken upon another hath the quickest reflec- 
 tion, like diamonds cut with facets; and, there- 
 fore, let a man contend to excel any competi- 
 tors of his in honor, 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 honor, 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 rather to Divine providence 
 and felicity, than to his own virtue or policy. 
 The true marshaling of the degrees of sover- 
 eign honor are these: in the first place are 
 "conditores imperiorum," founders of states 
 and commonwealths; such as were Romulus, 
 Cyrus, Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael: in the second 
 place are "legislatores," lawgivers, which are 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 197 
 
 also called second founders, or "perpetui prin- 
 cipes, " because they govern by their ordi- 
 nances after they are gone ; such were Lycur- 
 gus, Solon, Justinian, Edgar, Alphonsus of 
 Castile the Wise, that made the 4i Siete Parti- 
 das:'/ in the third place are 44 liberatores, " or 
 44 salvatores," such as compound the long 
 miseries of civil wars, or deliver their countries 
 from servitude of strangers or tyrants; as 
 Augustus Caesar, Vespasianus, Aurelianus, 
 Theodoricus, King Henry the Seventh of Eng- 
 land, King Henry the Fourth of France: in 
 the fourth place are 44 propagatores, " or "pro- 
 pugnatores imperii/' such as in honorable wars 
 enlarged their territories, or make noble 
 defense against invaders; and, in the last 
 place, are 44 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 honor in sub- 
 jects are, first, 44 participes curarum," those 
 upon whom princes do discharge the greatest 
 weight of their affairs; their right hands, as 
 we call them ; the next are 44 duces belli/' great 
 leaders; such as are princes' lieutenants, and 
 do them notable services in the wars; the third 
 are 44 gratiosi," favorites; such as exceed not 
 this scantling, to be solace to the sovereign, 
 and harmless to the people: and the fourth, 
 44 negotiis pares:" such as have great places 
 under princes, and execute their places with 
 sufficiency. There is an honor, likewise, 
 which may be ranked amongst the greatest, 
 which happeneth rarely; that is, of such as 
 
<*.: 
 
 198 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 sacrifice themselves to death or danger for the 
 good of their country ; as was M. Regulus, and 
 the two Decii. 
 
 LVL— 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 intro- 
 duce 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 (with the law) is he 
 that removeth the landmark. M The mislayer 
 of a mere stone is to blame; but it is the un- 
 just 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 at 
 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 
 ministers of justice underneath them, and to 
 the sovereign or state above them. 
 
 First, for the causes or parties that sue. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 199 
 
 44 There 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 conten- 
 tious suits, which ought to be spewed out, as 
 the surfeit of courts. A judge ought to pre- 
 pare his way to a just sentence, as God useth 
 lo prepare his way, by raising valleys and 
 taking down hills: so when there appeareth 
 on either side a high hand, violent prosecution, 
 cunning advantages taken, combination, 
 power, great counsel, then is the virtue of a 
 judge seen to make inequality equal; that he 
 may paint his judgment as upon an even 
 ground. "Qui fortiter emungit, elicit san- 
 guinem," 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 than the 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 rigor : 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 execu- 
 
200 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 tion: "Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tempora 
 rerum," etc. 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 
 essential part of justice; and an overspeaking 
 judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is no grace 
 to 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 evi- 
 dence ; to moderate length, repetition, or im- 
 pertinency of speech; to recapitulate, select, 
 and collate the material points of that which 
 hath been said ; and to give the rule, or sen- 
 tence. Whatsoever is above these is too much, 
 and proceedeth either of glory, and willingness 
 to speak, or of impatience to hear, or of short- 
 ness 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 
 presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest: 
 but it is more strange, that judges should have 
 noted favorites, which cannot but cause multi- 
 plication of fees, and suspicion of by-ways. 
 There is due from the judge to the advocates 
 some commendation and gracing, where causes 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 201 
 
 are well handled and fair pleaded, especially 
 toward 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 
 appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglect, 
 slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an 
 over-bold defense; 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 
 ministers. The place of justice is a hallowed 
 place; and, therefore, not only the bench, but 
 the foot-pace and precincts, and purprise there- 
 of ought to be preserved without scandal and 
 corruption; for, certainly, M Grapes (as the 
 Scripture saith) will not be. gathered of thorns 
 or thistles;" neither can justice yield her fruit 
 with sweetness amongst the briars and bram- 
 bles of catching and polling clerks and minis- 
 ters. The attendance of courts is subject to 
 four bad instruments: first, certain persons 
 that are sower of suits, which make the court 
 swell, and the country pine : the second sort is 
 of both those that engage courts in quarrels or 
 jurisdiction, and are not truly "amici curiae," 
 but "parasiti curiae," in puffing a court up 
 beyond her bounds for their own scraps and 
 advantage : the third sort is of those that may 
 
 14 Brecon 
 
202 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 be accounted the left hands of courts: persons 
 that are full of nimble and sinister tricks and 
 shifts, whereby they pervert the plain and 
 direct 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 jus- 
 tice to the bush, whereunto while the sheep 
 flies for defense in weather, he is sure to lose 
 part of his fleece. On the other side, an 
 ancient clerk, skilful in precedents, 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 
 sovereign 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 ora- 
 cles 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 interven- 
 ient in business of state; the other, when there 
 is some consideration of state intervenient in 
 matter of law; for many times the things de- 
 duced to judgment may be "meum" and 
 "tuum" when the reason and consequence 
 thereof may trench to point of estate : I call 
 matter of estate, not only the parts of sover- 
 eignty, but whatsoever introduceth any great 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 203 
 
 alteration, or dangerous precedent; or con- 
 cerneth manifestly any great portion of people : 
 and let no man weakly conceive that just laws 
 and true policy have any antipathy ; 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 sover- 
 eignty. 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." 
 
 LVIL— 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 lim- 
 ited and confined both in race and in time. 
 We will speak first how the natural inclination 
 and habit, "to be angry," may be tempered 
 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 appease anger in another. 
 
 For the first, there is no other way but to 
 meditate and ruminate well upon the effects 
 of anger, how it troubles man's life: and the 
 
204 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 best time to do this, is to look back upon 
 anger when the fit is thoroughly over. Seneca 
 saith well, "that anger is iike a 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 posses- 
 sion 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 below 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 sen- 
 sible of hurt; for no man is angry that feels 
 not himself hurt; and therefore tender and 
 delicate persons must needs be oft angry, they 
 have so many 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 circum- 
 stances thereof, full of contempt : for contempt 
 is that which putteth an edge upon anger, as 
 much, or more, than the hurt itself; and, 
 therefore, when men are ingenious in picking 
 out circumstances of contempt, they do kindle 
 their anger much : lastly, opinion of the touch 
 of a man's reputation doth multiply and 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 205 
 
 sharpen anger; wherein the remedy is, that a 
 man should have, as Gonsalvo was wont to 
 say, "Telam honoris crassiorem." But in all 
 retrainings 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 meantime, 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 nothing so much; and again 
 that in anger a man reveals no secrets; for 
 that it 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 
 show bitterness, do not act anything that is 
 not revocable. 
 
 For raising and appeasing anger in another, 
 it is done chiefly by choosing of times, when 
 men are frowardest and worst disposed to in- 
 cense them; again, by gathering (as we 
 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 misunderstanding, 
 fear, passion, or what you will. 
 
236 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 LVIIL— OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 
 
 Solomon saith, "There is no new thing upon 
 the earth ;" so that as Plato had imagination 
 that all knowledge was but remembrance ; so 
 Solomon giveth his sentence, "That all nov- 
 elty is but oblivion;'' whereby you may see, 
 that the river of Lethe runneth as well above 
 ground as below. There is an abstruse astrol- 
 oger 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 an- 
 other, and never come nearer together, nor go 
 further asunder; the other, that the diurnal 
 motion perpetually keepeth time), no indi- 
 vidual would last one moment: certain it is, 
 that the matter is in a perpetual flux, and 
 never at a stay. The great winding-sheets that 
 bury all things in oblivion are two; deluges 
 and earthquakes. As for conflagrations 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 nar- 
 row; but in the other two destructions, by del- 
 uge and earthquake, it is further to be noted, 
 that the remnant of people which happen to be 
 reserved, are commonly ignorant and moun- 
 tainous 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 207 
 
 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 earth- 
 quakes (as the Egyptian priest told Solon, con- 
 cerning the island of Atlantis, that it was swal- 
 lowed 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 mountains, are far higher than those with 
 us; whereby it seems, that the remnants of 
 generation of men were in such a particular 
 deluge saved. As for the observation that 
 Machiavel hath, that the jealousy of sects doth 
 much extinguish the memory of things; tra- 
 ducing 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 for- 
 mer antiquities. 
 
 The vicissitude, or mutations, in the supe- 
 rior 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 renewing the state of life indi- 
 viduals (for that is the fume of those that con- 
 ceive the celestial bodies have more accurate 
 influences upon these things below, than in- 
 deed they have), but in gross. Comets, out of 
 question, have likewise power and effect over 
 
208 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 the gross and mass of things; but they are 
 rather gazed, and waited upon in their jour- 
 ney, than wisely observed in their effects; 
 especially in their respective effects; that is, 
 what kind of comet for magnitude, color, ver- 
 sion 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 weather comes about again; as great 
 frosts, great wet, great droughts, warm win- 
 ters, summers with little heat, and the like; 
 and they call it the prime ; it is a thing I do 
 the rather mention, because, computing back- 
 ward, I have found some concurrence. 
 
 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 concern- 
 ing 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 pro- 
 fessors of religion is decayed and full of scan- 
 dal, and withal the times be stupid, ignorant, 
 and barbarous, you may doubt the springing 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 209 
 
 up of a new sect ; if then also there should 
 arise any extravagant 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 supplant- 
 ing or the opposition of authority established ; 
 for nothing is more popular than that; the 
 other is the giving license to pleasures and a 
 voluptuous life: for as for speculative heresies 
 (such as were in ancient times the Arians, 
 and now the Arminians), though they work 
 mightily upon men's wits, yet they do not pro- 
 duce 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 elo- 
 quence and wisdom of speech and persuasion ; 
 and by the sword. For martyrdoms, I reckon 
 them amongst miracles, because 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 
 advancing them, than to enrage them by vio- 
 lence 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 
 
 14 Bacon 
 
210 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 times, seemed more to move from east to 
 west; for the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, 
 Tartars (which were the invaders), were all 
 eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were 
 western ; but we read but of two incursions 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 
 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 211 
 
 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 w r orld hath 
 fewest barbarous people, but such as com- 
 monly will not marry, or generate, except 
 they know 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 
 populate, without foreseeing means of life and 
 sustentation, 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 ; cast- 
 ing lots what part should stay at home, and 
 what should seek their fortunes. When a war- 
 like state grows soft and effeminate, they may 
 be sure of a war : for commonly such states 
 are grown rich in the time of their degenerat- 
 ing: and so the prey invite th, and their decay 
 in valor 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 Oxi- 
 draces, in India; and was that which the Mace- 
 donians called thunder and lightning, and 
 magic; and it is well known that the use of 
 ordnance hath been in China above two thou- 
 sand years. The conditions of weapons, and 
 their improvements are, first, the fetching afar 
 off; for that outruns the danger, as it is seen 
 
212 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 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 
 valor, 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 diver- 
 sions, 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 de- 
 clining age of a state, mechanical arts and 
 merchandise. Learning 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 vicissitude, 
 lest we become giddy; as for the philology of 
 them, that is but a circle of tales, and there- 
 fore not fit for this writing. 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 213 
 
 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 
 parables; 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 
 flieth 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; forcer- 
 tain it is, that rebels, figured by the giants, and 
 seditious fames and libels are but brothers and 
 sisters, masculine 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 
 
214 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 and raised; how they may be spread and mul- 
 tiplied; 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. Muci- 
 anus undid Vitellius by a fame that he scat- 
 tered, that Vitellius had in purpose to remove 
 the legions of Syria into Germany, and the le- 
 gions 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 continu- 
 ally giving out that her husband Augustus was 
 upon recovery and amendment; and it is a 
 usual thing with the bashaws to conceal the 
 death of the Grand Turk from the janisaries 
 and men of war, to save the sacking of Con- 
 stantinople, and other towns, as their manner 
 is. Themistocles made Xerxes, king of 
 Persia, post apace out of Graecia, by giving out 
 that the Grecians had a purpose to break his 
 bridge of ships which he had made athwart 
 Hessespont. 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 everywhere : therefore let all wise 
 governors have as great a watch and care over 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 215 
 
 fames, as they have of the actions and designs 
 themselves. 
 
 OF A KING. 
 
 i. A king is a mortal God on earth, unto 
 whom the living God hath lent his own name 
 as a great honor; but withal told him, he 
 should die like a man, lest he should be proud 
 and flatter himself, that God hath, with his 
 name, imparted 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 think it too light, he knoweth not of 
 what metal it is made. 
 
 4. He must make religion the rule of gov- 
 ernment, and not to balance the scale; for he 
 that casteth in religion only to make the 
 scales even, his own weight is contained in 
 those characters: "Mene, mene, tekel, uphar- 
 sin: He is found too light, his kingdom shall 
 be taken from him. M 
 
 5. And that king that holds not religion the 
 best reason of 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 honor, which 
 should not run with a waste-pipe, lest the 
 
216 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 Lexloquens himself, but because he animateth 
 the dead letter, making it active toward all his 
 subjects proemio et poena. 
 
 9. A wise king must do less in altering his 
 laws than he may; for new government is ever 
 dangerous. It being true in the body politic, 
 as in the corporal, that om?iis subita immutatio est 
 pericidosa; and though it be for the better, 
 yet it is not without a fearful apprehension ; 
 for he 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 jus- 
 tice, oppresseth the people ; for he teacheth his 
 judges to sell justice, and pretio porata pretio 
 venditor justitia. 
 
 11. 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 therein 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 manifesting the sweet influence of his 
 mercy on the severe stroke of his justice some- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 217 
 
 times, so in this not to suffer a man of death 
 to live, for besides that the land doth mourn, 
 the restraint of justice toward 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. 
 
 15. The love which a king oweth to a weal 
 public should not be overstrained to any one 
 particular; yet that his more especial favor 
 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 infclix felicitas. 
 
 First, that simulate! sanctitas be not in the 
 church ; for that is dupex iuiqiritas. 
 
 Secondly, that imttilis ccquiias set not in the 
 chancery ; for that is inepia misericordia. 
 
 Thirdly, that utilis irdquitas keep not the 
 exchequer ; for that is crudele latrochrium. 
 
 Fourthly, that fidelis temeritas be not his 
 general, for that would bring but scram poen- 
 itentiam. 
 
 Fifthly, that i?ifi delis pnidentia be not his 
 secretary; for that is angids sub viridi herba. 
 
 To conclude: as he is of the greatest power, 
 so he is subject to the greatest cares, made the 
 servant of his people, or else he were without 
 a calling at all. 
 
 He, then, that honoreth him not is next an 
 
218 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 atheist, wanting the fear of God in his 
 heart. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 i. 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 de- 
 pends 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 mothers, 
 until we return to our grandmother 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. 
 
 2. Physicians in the name of death include 
 all sorrow, anguish, disease, calamity, or what- 
 soever can fall in the life of man, either griev- 
 ous or unwelcome. But these things are 
 familiar unto us, and we suffer them every 
 hour; therefore we die daily, and I am older 
 since I affirmed it. 
 
 3. I know many wise men that fear to die; 
 for the change is bitter, and flesh would refuse 
 to prove it: besides, the expectation 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 acknowledge without mourn- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 219 
 
 ing, that I was begotten mortal. Virtue 
 walks not in the highway, though she go per 
 alta; this is strength and the blood of 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 for- 
 sakes his guard or sleeps. There is nothing 
 under heaven, saving a true friend (who can- 
 not be counted within the number of mova- 
 bles), 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 uncertain date of my 
 years. It was no mean apprehension of 
 Lucian, who says of Menippus, that in his 
 travels through hell, he knew not the kings of 
 the earth from the other men but only by 
 their louder cryings and tears, which were 
 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 loath 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 
 
220 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 they came hither, or with what naked orna- 
 ments they were arrayed. 
 
 5. But were we servants of the precept 
 given, and observers of the heathens' rule, 
 memento mori, 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 servants of pleas- 
 ure), 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, shows what finger hath enforced 
 her; for the souls of idiots are of the same 
 piece with those of statesmen, 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 showing her wonders, like an 
 excellent musician which cannot utter himself 
 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 style 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 obtained, sends men headlong 
 into this wretched theater, where being arrived, 
 their first language is that of mourning. Nor 
 in my own thoughts, can I compare men more 
 fitly to anything than to the Indian fig-tree, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 221 
 
 which, being ripened to his full 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 
 earth, he tends downward, 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 other- 
 wise persuaded. Death finds not a worse 
 friend than an alderman, to whose door I 
 never knew him welcome ; but he is an im- 
 portunate 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 pay- 
 ment-day, which sickly uncertainty is the occa- 
 sion that (for the most part) they step out of 
 this world unfurnished for their general ac- 
 count, 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 think themselves nearer a 
 grave than before: now they, out of the wis- 
 doms of thousands, think to scare destiny, 
 
222 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 
 treasures by legions, as men do devils) : their 
 fortune looks toward them, and they are will- 
 ing to anchor at it, and desire (if it be possible) 
 to put the evil day far off from them, and to 
 adjourn their ungrateful 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 burthened with 
 grief and irons ; to the poor Christian, that sits 
 bound in the galley; to despairful widows, 
 pensive prisoners, and deposed kings; to them 
 whose fortune runs back, and whose spirits 
 mutiny: unto such death is a redeemer, 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 a 
 usurer, and fate untimely cuts their thread; 
 for it is never mentioned by him, but when 
 rumors 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, 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 223 
 
 then perhaps such a one (broken in thoughts 
 of his moneys abroad, and cursing the monu- 
 ments 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 ; provided 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; remember- 
 ing 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 
 reconciles 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 then 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 busi- 
 ness well) ever keep a guard, and stand upon 
 keeping faith and a good conscience. 
 
 ii. 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. 
 
224 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 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 wc shall be well spoken of upon 
 earth by those that are just, and of the family 
 of virtue; the opposite whereof is a fury to 
 man, and makes even life unsweet. 
 
 Therefore, what is more heavy than evil 
 fame deserved? 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 privi- 
 leged 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 fore-flow the tide; I 
 have but so to make my interest of it as I may 
 account for it; I would wish nothing but what 
 might better my days, not desire any greater 
 place than the front of good opinion. I make 
 not love to the continuance of days, but 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 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 225 
 
 to see the evening of my age ; that extremity 
 of itself being a disease, and a mere return 
 into infancy: so that if perpetuity of life 
 might be given me, I should think what 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 ene- 
 mies, 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 fleshy 
 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. 
 
 15 Baccn 
 
THE FIRST EDITION. 
 1597- 
 
 227 
 
ESSAYS, 
 
 I.—OP STUDIES. 
 
 Studies serve for pastimes, for ornaments, 
 for abilities; their chief use for pastimes is in 
 privateness and retiring; for ornaments in dis- 
 course; and for ability in judgment; for expert 
 men can execute, but learned men are more fit 
 to judge and censure. To spend too much 
 time in them is sloth : to use them too much 
 for ornament is affectation; to make judgment 
 wholly by their rules is the humor of a scholar; 
 they perfect nature, and are themselves per- 
 fected by experience; crafty men contemn 
 them, wise men use them, simple men admire 
 them ; for they teach not their own use, but 
 that there is a wisdom without them and above 
 them won by observation. Read not to con- 
 tradict nor to believe, but to weigh and con- 
 sider. Some books are to be tasted, others to 
 be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and 
 digested ; that is, some are to be read only in 
 parts, others to be read but curiously, and 
 some few to be read wholly with diligence and 
 attention. Reading maketh a full man, con- 
 ference a ready, and writing an exact man; 
 therefore, if a man write little, he had need of 
 a great memory; if he confer little, he had 
 
 229 
 
230 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 need of a present wit ; and if he read little, he 
 had need have much cunning to seem to know 
 that he doth not know. Histories make wise 
 men; poets witty; the mathematics subtile; 
 natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic 
 and rhetoric able to contend. 
 
 II.— OF DISCOURSE. 
 
 Some, in their discourse, desire rather com- 
 mendation of wit in being able to hold all 
 arguments than of judgment in discerning what 
 is true, as if it were a praise to know what 
 might be said, and not what should be thought; 
 some have certain commonplaces and themes 
 wherein they are good and want variety, which 
 kind of poverty is for the most part tedious, 
 and now and then ridiculous; the honorablest 
 part of talk is to give the occasion, and again 
 to moderate and pass to somewhat else; it is 
 good to vary, and mix speech of the present 
 occasion with arguments, tales with reasons, 
 asking of questions with telling of opinions, 
 and jest with earnest; but somethings are 
 privileged from jest — namely, religion, matters 
 of State, great persons, all men's present busi- 
 ness of importance, and any case that deserves 
 pity. He that questioneth much shall learn 
 much and content much, especially if he apply 
 his questions to the skill of the party of whom 
 he asketh, for he shall give them occasion to 
 please themselves in speaking, and himself 
 shall continually gather knowledge ; if some- 
 times you dissemble your knowledge of that 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 231 
 
 you are thought to know, you shall be thought 
 another time to know that which you know 
 not. Speech of a man's self is not good often, 
 and there is but one thing wherein a man may 
 commend himself with good grace, and that is 
 commending virtue in another; especially if it 
 be such a virtue as whereunto himself pretend- 
 eth. Discretion of speech is more than elo- 
 quence, and to speak agreeably to him with 
 whom we deal is more than to speak in good 
 words or in good order. A good continued 
 speech, without a good speech of interlocution, 
 shows slowless; and a good second speech 
 without a good set speech shows shallowness. 
 To use too many circumstances ere one comes 
 to the matter is wearisome, and to use none at 
 all is blunt. 
 
 Ill— OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 
 
 He that is only real needed exceeding great 
 parts of virtue, as the stone had need to be 
 exceeding rich that it set without foil; but 
 commonly it is in praise as it is in gain, for as 
 the proverb is true that light gains make 
 heavy purses, because they come thick, whereas 
 the great come but now and then ; so it is as 
 true that small matters win great commenda- 
 tion because they are continually in use and in 
 note, whereas the occasion of any great virtue 
 cometh but on holidays. To attain good forms 
 it 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 care to express 
 
232 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 them he shall lose their grace, which is to be 
 natural and unaffected. Some men's behavior 
 is like a verse, wherein every syllable is 
 measured. How can a man observe great mat- 
 ter that breaketh his mind too much in small 
 observations? Not to use ceremonies at all is 
 to teach others not to use them again, and so 
 diminish his respect; especially they are not to 
 be omitted to strangers and strange natures. 
 Among a man's equals a man shall be sure of 
 familiarity, and therefore it is good a little to 
 keep state ; among a man's inferiors a man shall 
 be sure of reverence, and therefore it is good 
 a little to be familiar. He that is too much in 
 anything, so that he giveth another occasion of 
 satiety, maketh himself cheap. To apply one's 
 self to others a§ good, so it be with demonstra- 
 tion that a dan does it upon regard, and not 
 upon facility. It is a good precept generally 
 in seconding another, yet to add somewhat of 
 his own ; if you 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 farther 
 reason. 
 
 IV.— OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 
 
 Costly followers are not to be liked, lest while 
 a man maketh his train longer he maketh his 
 wings shorter. I reckon to be costly not them 
 alone which charge the purse, but which are 
 wearisome and importunate in suits. Ordi- 
 nary followers ought to challenge no higher 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 233 
 
 conditions than countenance, recommendation, 
 and protection from wrong 1 . Factious follow- 
 ers are worse to be liked which follow not upon 
 r.ffection to him with whom they range them- 
 selves, but upon some discontentment received 
 against some others, whereupon commonly 
 ensueth that ill intelligence that many times 
 we see between great personages ; the follow- 
 ing of certain states answerable to that which 
 a great personage himself professeth, as of sol- 
 diers 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 
 without too much pomp or popularity. But 
 the most honorable kind of following is to be 
 followed, as one that intendeth to advance vir- 
 tue and desert in all sorts of persons ; and yet 
 where there is no imminent odds in sufficiency, 
 it is better to take with the more passable than 
 with the more able. In government of charge 
 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 in favors to use 
 men with much difference and election is good, 
 for it maketh the persons preferred more thank- 
 ful and the rest affectious, because all is of 
 favor. It is good not to make too much of any 
 man at first, because one cannot hold out that 
 proportion. To be governed by one is not 
 good, and to be distracted by man}?- is worse ; 
 but to take advice of friends is ever honorable: 
 for lookers on many times see more than game- 
 sters, and the vale best discovereth the hill. 
 
 16 Bacon 
 
234 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 There is little friendship in the world, and 
 least of all between equals; that which is, is 
 between superior and inferior, whose fortunes 
 may comprehend the one the other. 
 
 V.— OF SUITORS. 
 
 Many ill matters are undertaken, and many 
 good matters with ill minds; 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 
 reward. Some take hold of suits only for an 
 occasion to cross some others, or to make an 
 information, whereof they could not otherwise 
 have apt pretext, without care of what become 
 of the suit when that turn is served; nay, some 
 undertake suits with a full purpose to let them 
 fall to the end to gratify the adverse party, or 
 competitor. Surely there is in sort a right in 
 every suit, either a right of equity, if it be a 
 suit of controversy, or a right of desert, if it be 
 a suit of petition ; if affection lead a man to 
 favor the wrong side, in justice rather let him 
 use his countenance to compound the matter 
 than to carry it; if affection lead a man to 
 favor the less worthy in desert, let him do 
 without depraving or disabling the better 
 deserver ; in suits which a man doth not under- 
 stand, it is good to refer them to some friend 
 of his, of trust and judgment, that may report 
 whether he may deal in them with honor. 
 Suitors are so distasted with delays and abuses 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 235 
 
 that plain dealing in denying to deal in suits at 
 first, and reporting the success barely, and in 
 challenging no mdre thanks than one hath 
 deserved, is grown not only honorable, but also 
 gracious; in suits of favor the first coming 
 ought to take but little place, so far forth con- 
 sideration may be had of his trust, that if intel- 
 ligence of the matter could not otherwise have 
 been had but by him, advantage be not taken 
 of the note ; 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 voic- 
 ing them to be in forwardness may discourage 
 some kind of suitors, but doth quicken and 
 awake others ; but timing of suits is the prin- 
 cipal; 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; nothing is 
 thought so easy a request to a great man as his 
 letter, and yet not in an ill cause, it is so much 
 out of his reputation. 
 
 VI— OF EXPENSE. 
 
 Riches are for spending, and spending for 
 honor and good action; therefore, extraordi- 
 nary expense 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 ordinary expense 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, 
 
236 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 and ordered by the best show, that the bills 
 may be less than the estimation abroad. It is 
 no baseness for the greatest to descend and 
 look into their own estate ; some forbear it not 
 of negligence alone, but doubting to bring 
 themselves into melancholy in respect they 
 shall find it broken; but wounds cannot be 
 cured without searching ; he that cannot look 
 into his own estate had need both to choose 
 well those whom he employeth and change 
 them often ; for new men are more timorous 
 and less subtile; in clearing of a man's estate 
 he may as well hurt himself in being too sud- 
 den as in letting it run out too long; for hasty 
 selling is commonly as disadvantageable as 
 interest; he that hath a state to repair may not 
 despise small things ; and commonly it is less 
 dishonor to abridge petty charges than to stoop 
 to petty gettings ; a man ought warily to begin 
 charges which begun must continue, but in 
 matters that return not he may be more 
 liberal. 
 
 VII.— 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 
 conclusion to say this agreeth well with me, 
 therefore I will continue it; I find no offense 
 of this, therefore I may use it ; for strength of 
 nature in youth passeth over many excesses, 
 which are owing a man till his age; discern of 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 237 
 
 the coming on of years, and think not to do the 
 same things still. Beware of any sudden 
 change in any great point of diet, and if 
 necessity enforce it, fit the rest to it; to be free- 
 minded and cheerfully disposed at hours of 
 meat, and of sleep and of exercise, is the best 
 precept of long lasting. If you fly physic in 
 health altogether, it will be too strong for your 
 body when you shall need it; if you make it 
 too familiar it will work no extraordinary effect 
 when sickness cometh; despise no new acci- 
 dent in the body, but ask opinion of it; in sick- 
 ness principally respect health, and in health 
 action; for those that put their bodies to 
 endure in health, may in most sicknesses which 
 are very sharp be cured only with diet and 
 good tending. Physicians are some of them so 
 pleasing to the humors of the patient they press 
 not the true cure of the disease; and some 
 others so regular in proceeding according to art 
 for the disease as they respect not sufficiently 
 the condition of the patient. Take one of a 
 mild temper, and forget not to call as well the 
 best acquainted with your body as the best 
 reputed of for his faculty. 
 
 VIII.— OF HONOR AND REPUTATION. 
 
 The winning of honor is but the revealing of 
 a man's virtue and worth without disadvant- 
 age; for some in their actions do affect honor 
 and reputation, which sort of men are much 
 talked of, but inwardly little admired; and 
 some darken their virtue in the show of it, so 
 
238 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 that 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 honor than by 
 effecting a matter of greater difficulty wherein 
 he is but a follower. If a man so temper his 
 actions as in some of them he do content every 
 faction, the music will be the fuller. A man 
 is an ill husband of his honor that entereth into 
 any action the failing wherein may disgrace him 
 more than the carrying it through can honor 
 him. Discreet followers help much to reputa- 
 tion Envy, which is the canker of honor, is 
 best bistinguished by declaring a man's self in 
 his ends, rather to seek merit than fame, and 
 by attributing a man's success rather to Prov- 
 idence and felicity than to his own virtue and 
 policy. The true marshalling of the degrees of 
 sovereign honor are these : In the first place, 
 Co?iditores, founders of states; in the second 
 place are Legislatives, lawgivers, which are also 
 called second founders; or Perpetui principes, 
 because they govern by their ordinances after 
 they are gone ; in the third place are Liber atores, 
 such as compound the long miseries of civil 
 wars or deliver their country from the servi- 
 tude of strangers or tyrants; in the fourth 
 place are Propagatores, or Propugnatores imperii^ 
 such as in honorable wars enlarge their terri- 
 tories, or make noble defense against the 
 invaders ; and in the last place are Patriae patres, 
 which reign justly, and make the times good 
 wherein they live. Degrees of honor in sub- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 239 
 
 jects are, first Participes curarutn, those upon 
 whom princes do discharge the greatest weight 
 of their affairs, their right hands as we call 
 them ; the next are Duces belli, great leaders, 
 such as are princes' lieutenants, and do them 
 notable service in the wars; the third are 
 Gratiosi favorites, such as exceed not this scant- 
 ling to be solace to their sovereign and harm- 
 less to the people ; and the fourth are called 
 Negotiis pares, such as have great places under 
 princes, and execute their places with suffi- 
 ciency. 
 
 IX.— OF FACTION. 
 
 Many have a new wisdom, otherwise called 
 a fond opinion, that for a prince to govern his 
 estate, or for a great person to govern his 
 proceedings according to the respect of faction, 
 is the principal part of policy. Whereas, con- 
 trariwise, the chiefest wisdom is either in 
 ordering those things which are general, and 
 wherein men of several factions do neverthe- 
 less agree, or in dealing with correspondent 
 persons one by one. But I say not that the con- 
 sideration of factions is to be neglected. Mean 
 men must adhere, but great men, that have 
 strength in themselves, were better to main- 
 tain themselves indifferent and neutral; yet, 
 even in beginners, to adhere so moderately as 
 he be a man of the one faction which is pas- 
 sablest with the other, commonly giveth best 
 way. The lower and weaker faction is the 
 firmer in condition. When one of the factions 
 
240 BACON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 is extinguished, the remaining subdivideth, 
 which is good for a second. It is commonly 
 seen that men once placed take in with the 
 contrary faction to that by which they enter. 
 The traitor in factions lightly goeth away with 
 it, for when matters have stuck long in balanc- 
 ing, the winning of some one man casteth 
 them, and he getteth all the thanks. 
 
 X.— OF NEGOTIATING. 
 
 It is better generally to deal by speech than 
 by letters, and by the mediation of a third 
 than by one's self. Letters are good, when a 
 man would draw an answer by letter back 
 again, or when it may serve for a man's justi- 
 fication afterward to produce his own letter. 
 To deal in person is good, where a man's face 
 breeds regard, as commonly with inferiors. 
 In choice of instruments, it is better to choose 
 men of a plainer sort, that are likely to do that 
 which is committed unto them, and to report 
 back again faithfully the success, than they 
 that are cunning to contrive out of other men's 
 business somewhat to grace themselves, and 
 will help the matter in report for satisfaction's 
 sake. It is better to sound a person with 
 whom one dealeth afar off than to fall upon 
 the point at first, except you mean to surprise 
 him by some short question. It is better deal- 
 ing with men of appetite than with those 
 who are where they would be. If a man deal 
 with another upon conditions, the start, or first 
 performance, is all which a man can reason- 
 
BACON'S ESSAYS. 241 
 
 ably 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 need him in some other thing, or else that 
 he be counted the honester man. All practice 
 % to discover, or to make men discover them- 
 selves in trust, in passion, at unawares, and of 
 necessity, where 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 win him; or his weaknesses or 
 disadvantages, and so awe him; or those that 
 have interest in him, and so govern him. In 
 dealing with cunning persons, we must ever 
 consider their ends to interpret their speeches, 
 and it is good to say little unto them, and that 
 which they least look for. 
 
 16 Bacon 
 
THE LAST EDITION 
 1625. 
 
 243 
 
TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE MY VERY GOOD LORD 
 
 THE 
 
 DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, 
 his grace, lord high admiral of england. 
 
 Excellent Lord: 
 
 Solomon says, "A good name is as a pre- 
 cious ointment;" and I assure myself such will 
 your Grace's name be with posterity, for your 
 fortune and merit both have been eminent, 
 and you have planted things that are like to 
 last. I do now publish my Essays, which of all 
 my other works have been most current, for 
 that, as it seems, they come home to men's 
 business and bosoms. I have enlarged them, 
 both in number and weight, so that the} r 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 Latin. For I do con- 
 ceive that the Latin volume of them (being in 
 the universal language) may last as long as 
 books last. My Instauration I dedicated to 
 the King; my History of Henry the Seventh 
 (which I have now also translated into Latin) 
 and my Portions of Natural History to the 
 Prince, and these I dedicated to your Grace, 
 being of the best fruits that by the good in- 
 crease which God gives to my pen and labors I 
 could yield. God lead your Grace by the hand. 
 
 Your Grace's most obliged and faithful 
 servant, Fr. St. Alban. 
 
 244 
 
THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 A SERIES OF MYTHOLOGICAL FABLES. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The earliest antiquity lies buried in silence 
 and oblivion, excepting the remains we have 
 of it in sacred writ. This silence was succeed- 
 ed by poetical fables, and these, at length, by 
 the writings we now enjoy: so that the con- 
 cealed and secret learning of the ancients 
 seems separated from the history and knowl- 
 edge of the following ages by a veil, or parti- 
 tion wall of fables, interposing between the 
 things that are lost and those that remain. 
 
 Many may imagine that I am here entering 
 upon a work of fancy, or amusement, and 
 design to use a poetical liberty, in explaining 
 poetical fables. It is true, fables in general 
 are composed of ductile matter, that may be 
 drawn into great variety by a witty talent or 
 an inventive genius, and be delivered of plaus- 
 ible meanings which they never contained. 
 But this procedure has already been carried to 
 excess; and great numbers, to procure the 
 sanction of antiquity to their own notions and 
 inventions, have miserably wrested and abused 
 the fables of the ancients. 
 
 245 
 
246 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Nor is this only a late or infrequent practice, 
 but of ancient date, and common even to this 
 day. Thus Chrysippus, like an interpreter of 
 dreams, attributed the opinions of the Stoics to 
 the poets of old ; and the chemists, at present, 
 more childishly apply the poetical transforma- 
 tions to their experiments of the furnace. 
 And though I have well weighed and considered 
 all this, and thoroughly seen into the levity 
 which the mind indulges for allegories and 
 allusions, yet I cannot but retain a high value 
 for the ancient mythology. And, certainly, it 
 were very injudicious to suffer the fondness 
 and licentiousness of a few to detract from the 
 honor of allegory and parable in general. 
 This would be rash and almost profane ; for 
 since religion delights in such shadows and dis- 
 guises, to abolish them were, in a manner, to 
 prohibit all intercourse betwixt things divine 
 and human. 
 
 Upon deliberate consideration, my judgment 
 is that a concealed instruction and allegory 
 was originally intended in many of the ancient 
 fables. This opinion may, in some respect, be 
 owing to the veneration I have for antiquity, 
 but more to observing that some fables discover 
 a great and evident similitude, relation, and 
 connection with the thing they signify, as well 
 in the structure of the fable as in the propriety 
 of the names whereby the persons or actors are 
 characterized; insomuch, that no one could 
 positively deny a sense and meaning to be 
 from the first intended, and purposely shad- 
 owed out in them. For who can hear that 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 247 
 
 Fame, after the giants were destroyed, sprung 
 up as their posthumous sister, and not apply it 
 to the clamor of parties and the seditious 
 rumors which commonly fly about for a time 
 upon the quelling of insurrections? Or who 
 can read how the giant Typhon cut out and 
 carried away Jupiter's sinews — which Mercury 
 afterward stole and again restored to Jupiter — 
 and not presently observe that this allegory 
 denotes strong and powerful rebellions, which 
 cut away from kings their sinews, both of 
 money and authority; and that the way to 
 have them restored is by lenity, affability, and 
 prudent edicts, which soon reconcile, and, as 
 it were, steal upon the affections of the sub- 
 ject? Or who, upon hearing that memorable 
 expedition of the gods against the giants, when 
 the braying of Silenus* ass greatly contributed 
 in putting the giants to flight, does not clearly 
 conceive that this directly points at the mon- 
 strous enterprises of rebellious subjects, which 
 are frequently frustrated and disappointed by 
 vain fears and empty rumors? 
 
 Again, the conformity and purport of the 
 names is frequently manifest and self-evident. 
 Thus Metis, the wife of Jupiter, plainly signi- 
 fies counsel; Typhon, swelling; Pan, univer- 
 sality; Nemesis, revenge, etc. Nor is it a 
 wonder, if sometimes a piece of history or 
 other things are introduced, by way of orna- 
 ment; or if the times of the action are con- 
 founded ; or if part of one fable be tacked to 
 another ; or if the allegory be new turned ; for 
 all this most necessarily happen, as the fables 
 
248 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 were the inventions of men who lived in differ- 
 ent ages and had different views ; some of them 
 being ancient, others more modern; some 
 having an eye to natural philosophy, and others 
 to morality or civil policy. 
 
 It may pass for a further indication of a con- 
 cealed and secret meaning, that some of these 
 fables are so absurd and idle in their narration 
 as to show and proclaim an allegory, even afar 
 off. A fable that carries probability with it may 
 be supposed invented for pleasure, or in imita- 
 tion of history ; but those that could never be 
 conceived or related in this way must surely 
 have a different use. For example, what a 
 monstrous fiction is this, that Jupiter should 
 take Metis to wife, and as soon as he found her 
 pregnant eat her up, whereby he also con- 
 ceived, and out of his head brought forth 
 Pallas armed. Certainly no mortal could, but 
 for the sake of the moral it couches, invent 
 such an absurd dream as this, so much out of 
 the road of thought! 
 
 But the argument of most weight with me 
 is this, that many of these fables by no means 
 appear to have been invented by the persons 
 who relate and divulge them, whether Homer, 
 Hesiod, or others; for if I were assured they 
 first flowed from those later times and authors 
 that transmit them to us, I should never expect 
 anything singularly great or noble from such 
 an origin. But whoever attentively considers 
 the thing, will find that these fables are deliv- 
 ered down and related by those writers, not as 
 matters then first invented and proposed, but 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 249 
 
 as things received and embraced in earlier ages. 
 Besides, as they are differently related by 
 writers nearly of the same ages, it is easily 
 perceived that the relators drew from the com- 
 mon stock of ancient tradition, and varied but 
 in point of embellishment, which is their own. 
 And this principally raises my esteem of these 
 fables, which I receive not as the product of 
 the age, or invention of the poets, but as sacred 
 relics, gentle whispers, and the breath of 
 better times, that from the traditions of more 
 ancient nations came, at length, into the flutes 
 and trumpets of the Greeks. But if any one 
 shall, notwithstanding this, contend that alle- 
 gories are always adventitious, or imposed up- 
 on the ancient fables, and no way native or 
 genuinely contained in them, we might here 
 leave him undisturbed in that gravity of judg- 
 ment he affects (though we cannot help 
 accounting it somewhat dull and phlegmatic), 
 and if it were worth the trouble, proceed to 
 another kind of argument. 
 
 Men have proposed to answer two different 
 and contrary ends by the use of parable : for 
 parables serve as well to instruct or illustrate 
 as to wrap up and envelop, so that though, for 
 the present, we drop the concealed use, and 
 suppose the ancient fables to be vague, inde- 
 terminate things, formed for amusement, still 
 the other use must remain, and can never be 
 given up. And every man of any learning, 
 must readily allow that this method of instruct- 
 ing is grave, sober, or exceedingly useful, and 
 sometimes necessary in the sciences, as it opens 
 
250 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 an easy and familiar passage to the human un- 
 derstanding, in all new discoveries that are 
 abstruse, and out of the road of vulgar opinions.* 
 Hence, in the first ages, when such inventions 
 and conclusions of the human reason as are 
 now trite and common were new and little 
 known, all things abounded with fables, para- 
 bles, similes, comparisons and illusions, which 
 were not intended to conceal, but to inform 
 and teach, while the minds of men continued 
 rude and unpracticed in matters of subtility 
 and speculation, or even impatient, and in a 
 manner incapable of receiving such things as 
 did not directly fall under and strike the senses. 
 For as hieroglyphics were in use before writing, 
 so were parables in use before arguments. 
 And even to this day, if any man would let new 
 light in upon the human understanding, and 
 conquer prejudice, without raising contests, 
 animosities, opposition, or disturbance, he 
 must still go in the same path, and have 
 recourse to the like method of allegory, meta- 
 phor, and allusion. 
 
 To conclude, the knowledge of the early ages 
 was either great or happy; great, if they by 
 design made this use of trope and figure ; hap- 
 py if while they had other views, they afforded 
 matter and occasion to such noble contempla- 
 tions. Let either be the case, our pains, per- 
 haps, will not be misemployed, whether we 
 illustrate antiquity or things themselves. 
 
 The like, indeed, has been attempted by 
 others; but to speak ingenuously, their great 
 and voluminous labors have almost destroyed 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 251 
 
 the energy, the efficacy, and grace of the thing, 
 while being unskilled in nature, and their 
 learning no more than that of commonplace, 
 they have applied the sense of the parables to 
 certain general and vulgar matters, without 
 reaching to their real purport, genuine inter- 
 pretation, and full depth. For myself, there- 
 fore, I expect to appear new in these common 
 things, because, leaving untouched such as are 
 sufficiently plain and open, I shall drive only 
 at those that are either deep or rich. 
 
 I.— CASSANDRA, OR DIVINATION. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF TOO FREE AND UNSEASONABLE 
 
 ADVICE. 
 
 The poets relate that Apollo, falling in love 
 with Cassandra, was still deluded and put off 
 by her, yet fed with hopes, till she had got 
 from him the gift of prophecy; and having 
 now obtained her end, she flatly rejected his 
 suit. Apollo, unable to recall his rash gift, 
 yet enraged to be outwitted by a girl, annexed 
 this penalty to it, that though she should 
 always prophecy true, she should never be 
 believed; whence her divinations were always 
 slighted, even when she again and again pre- 
 dicted the ruin of her country. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems invented to 
 express the insignificance of unseasonable ad- 
 vice. For they who are conceited, stubborn, 
 or intractable, and listen not to the instruc- 
 tions of Apollo, the god of harmony so as to 
 
252 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 learn and observe the modulations and meas- 
 ures of affairs, the sharps and flats of discourse, 
 the difference between judicious and vulgar 
 ears, and the proper times of speech and 
 silence, let them be ever so intelligent, and 
 ever so frank of their advice or their counsels 
 ever so good and just, yet all their endeavors, 
 either of persuasion or force, are of little sig- 
 nificance, and rather hasten the ruin of those 
 they advise. But, at last, when the calami- 
 tous event has made the sufferers feel the effect 
 of their neglect they too late reverence their 
 advisers, as deep, foreseeing, and faithful 
 prophets. 
 
 Of this we have a remarkable instance in 
 Cato of Utica, who discovered afar off, and 
 long foretold the approaching ruin of his coun- 
 try, both in the first conspiracy, and as it was 
 prosecuted in the civil war between Caesar and 
 Pompey, yet did no good the while, but rather 
 hurt the commonwealth, and hurried on its 
 destruction, which Cicero wisely observed in 
 these words: "Cato, indeed, judges excellently, 
 but prejudices the state ; for he speaks as in the 
 commonwealth of Plato, and not as in the dregs 
 of Romulus. 
 
 II.— TYPHON, OR A REBEL. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF REBELLION. 
 
 The fable runs, that Juno, enraged at Jupi- 
 ter's bringing forth Pallas without her assist- 
 ance, incessantly solicited all the gods and 
 goddesses, that she might produce without 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 253 
 
 Jupiter; and having by violence and importun- 
 ity obtained the grant, she struck the earth, 
 and thence immediately sprung up Typhon, a 
 huge and dreadful monster, whom she com- 
 mitted to the nursing of a serpent. As soon as 
 he was grown up, this monster waged war on 
 Jupiter, and taking him prisoner in the battle, 
 carried him away on his shoulders, into a re- 
 mote and obscure quarter: and there cutting 
 out the sinews of his hands and feet, he bore 
 them off leaving Jupiter behind miserably 
 maimed and mangled. 
 
 But Mercury afterward stole these sinews 
 from Typhon, and restored them to Jupiter. 
 Hence, recovering his strength, Jupiter again 
 pursues the monster; first wounds him with a 
 stroke of his thunder, when serpents arose 
 from the blood of the wound; and now the 
 monster being dismayed, and taking to flight, 
 Jupiter next darted Mount ^Etna upon him, 
 and crushed him with the weight. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems designed 
 to express the various fates of kings, and the 
 turns that rebellions sometimes take in king- 
 doms. For princes may be justly esteemed 
 married to their states, as Jupiter to Juno; 
 but it sometimes happens, that being depraved 
 by long wielding of the sceptre, and growing 
 tyrannical, they would engross all to them- 
 selves, and slighting the counsel of their sen- 
 ators and nobles, conceive by themselves; that 
 is, govern according to their own arbitrary 
 will and pleasure. This inflames the people, 
 
254 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and makes them endeavor to create and set 
 up some head of their own. Such designs are 
 generally set on foot by the secret motion and 
 instigation of the peers and nobles, under 
 whose connivance the common sort are pre- 
 pared for rising ; whence proceeds a swell in 
 the state, which is appositely denoted by the 
 nursing of Typhon. This growing posture of 
 affairs is fed by the natural depravity, and 
 malignant dispositions of the vulgar, which to 
 kings is an envenomed serpent. And now the 
 disaffected, uniting their force, at length 
 break out into open rebellion, which, produc- 
 ing infinite mischiefs, both to prince and peo- 
 ple, is represented by the horrid and multiplied 
 deformity of Typhon, with his hundred heads, 
 denoting the divided powers; his flaming 
 mouths, denoting fire and devastation; his 
 girdle of snakes, denoting sieges and destruc- 
 tion; his iron hands, slaughter and cruelty; 
 his eagle's talons, rapine, and plunder; his 
 plumed body, perpetual rumors, contradictory 
 accounts, etc. And sometimes these rebellions 
 grow so high, that kings are obliged, as if car- 
 ried on the backs of the rebels, to quit the 
 throne, and retire to some remote and obscure 
 part of their dominions, with the loss of their 
 sinews, both of money and majesty. 
 
 But if now they prudently bear this reverse 
 of fortune, they may, in a short time, by the 
 assistance of Mercury, recover their sinews 
 again; that is, by becoming moderate and 
 affable ; reconciling the minds and affections of 
 the people to them, by gracious speeches and 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 255 
 
 prudent proclamations, which will win over 
 the subjects cheerfully to afford new aids and 
 supplies, and add fresh vigor to authority. 
 But prudent and wary princes here seldom in- 
 cline to try fortune by a war, yet do their 
 utmost, by some grand exploit, to crush the 
 reputation of the rebels: and if the attempt 
 succeeds, the rebels, conscious of the wound 
 received, and distrustful of their cause, first 
 betake themselves to broken and empty 
 threats, like the hissings of serpents; and 
 next, when matters are grown desperate, to 
 flight. And now, when they thus begin to 
 shrink, it is safe and seasonable for kings to 
 pursue them with their forces, and the whole 
 strength of the kingdom thus effectually 
 quashing and suppressing them, as it were by 
 the weight of a mountain. 
 
 III.— THE CYCLOPS, OR THE MINIS- 
 TERS OF TERROR. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF BASE COURT OFFICERS. 
 
 It is related that the Cyclops, for their sav- 
 ageness and cruelty, were by Jupiter first 
 thrown into Tartarus, and there condemned to 
 perpetual imprisonment: but that afterward, 
 Tellus persuaded Jupiter it would be for his 
 service to release them, and employ them in 
 forging thunderbolts. This he accordingly 
 did; and they, with unwearied pains and dil- 
 igence, hammered out his bolts, and other in- 
 struments of terror, with a frightful and con- 
 tinual din of the anvil. 
 
256 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 It happened long after, that Jupiter was 
 displeased with ^Esculapius, the son. of 
 Apollo, for having, by the art of medicine, re- 
 stored a dead man to life; but concealing his 
 indignation, because the action in itself was 
 pious and illustrious, he secretly incensed the 
 Cyclops against him, who, without remorse, 
 presently slew him with their thunderbolts; in 
 revenge whereof, Apollo, with Jupiter's con- 
 nivance, shot all them dead with his arrows. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to point at 
 the behavior of princes, who, having cruel, 
 bloody, and oppressive ministers, first punish 
 and displace them; but afterward, by the ad- 
 vice of Tellus, that is, some earthly-minded 
 and ignoble person, employ them again, to 
 serve a turn, when there is occasion for cruelty 
 in execution, or severity in exaction ; but these 
 ministers being base in their nature, whet by 
 their former disgrace, and well aware of what 
 is expected from them, use double diligence in 
 their office ; till, proceeding unwarily, and over 
 eager to gain favor they sometimes, from the 
 private nods, and ambiguous orders of their 
 prince, performed some odious or execrable 
 action: when princes, to decline the envy 
 themselves, and knowing they shall never want 
 such tools at their back, drop them, and give 
 them up to the friends and followers of the 
 injured person ; thus exposing them, as sacri- 
 fices to revenge and popular odium; whence 
 with great applause, acclamations, and good 
 wishes to the prince, these miscreants at last 
 meet with their desert. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 257 
 
 IV.— NARCISSUS, OR SELF-LOVE. 
 
 Narcissus is said to have been extremely 
 beautiful and comely, but intolerably proud 
 and disdainful; so that, pleased with himself, 
 and scorning the world, he led a solitary life 
 in the woods; hunting only with a few follow- 
 ers, who were his professed admirers, among 
 whom the nymph Echo was his constant atten- 
 dant. In this method of life it was once his fate 
 to approach a clear fountain, where he laid 
 himself down to rest, in the noonday heat; 
 when, beholding his image in the water, he fell 
 into such a rapture and admiration of himself, 
 that he could by no means be got away, but 
 remained continually fixed and gazing, till at 
 length he was turned into a flower, of his own 
 name, which appears early in the spring, and 
 is consecrated to the infernal deities, Pluto, 
 Proserpine, and the Furies. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to paint 
 the behavior and fortune of those who, for 
 their beauty, or other endowments, wherewith 
 nature (without any industry of their own) has 
 graced and adorned them, are extravagantly 
 fond of themselves : for men of such a disposi- 
 tion generally affect retirement, and absence 
 from public affairs; as a life of business must 
 necessarily subject them to many neglects and 
 contempts, which might disturb and ruffle 
 their minds; whence such persons commonly 
 lead a solitary, private, and shadowy life ; see 
 little company, and those only such as highly 
 
 17 Bacon 
 
258 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 admire and reverence them ; or, like an echo, 
 assent to all they say. 
 
 And they who are depraved, and rendered 
 still fonder of themselves by this custom, grow 
 strangely indolent, inactive, and perfectly 
 stupid. The Narcissus, a spring flower, is an 
 elegant emblem of this temper, which at first 
 flourishes, and is talked of, but when ripe, 
 frustrates the expectation conceived of it. 
 
 And that this flower should be sacred to the 
 infernal powers, carries out the allusion still 
 further; because men of this humor are per- 
 fectly useless in all respects: for whatever 
 yields no fruit, but passes, and is no more, like 
 the way of a ship in the sea, was by the 
 ancients consecrated to the infernal shades and 
 powers. 
 
 V.— THE RIVER STYX, OR LEAGUES. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF NECESSITY, IN THE OATHS OR 
 SOLEMN LEAGUES OF PRINCES. 
 
 The only solemn oath, by which the gods 
 irrevocably obliged themselves, is a well- 
 known thing, and makes a part of many 
 ancient fables. To this oath they did not 
 invoke any celestial divinity, or divine attri- 
 bute, but only called to witness the river Styx ; 
 which, with many meanders, surrounds the 
 infernal court of Dis. For this form alone, and 
 none but this, was held inviolable and oblig- 
 atory : and the punishment of falsifying it, was 
 that dreaded one of being excluded, for a cer- 
 tain number of years, the table of the gods. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 259 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems invented 
 to show the nature of the compacts and con- 
 federacies of princes; which, though ever so 
 solemnly and religiously sworn to, prove but 
 little the more binding for it: so that oaths in 
 this case seem used, rather for decorum, repu- 
 tation, and ceremony, than for fidelity, secur- 
 ity, and effectuating. And though these oaths 
 were strengthened with the bonds of affinity, 
 which are the links and ties of nature, and 
 again, by mutual services and good offices, yet 
 we see all this will generally give way to 
 ambition, convenience, and the thirst of 
 power: the rather, because it is easy for 
 princes, under various specious pretences to 
 defend, disguise, and conceal their ambitious 
 desires, and insincerity; having no judge to 
 call them to account. There is, however, one 
 true and proper confirmation of their faith, 
 though no celestial divinity; but that great 
 divinity of princes, Necessity; or, the danger 
 of the state ; and the securing of advantage. 
 
 This necessity is elegantly represented by 
 Styx, the fatal river, that can never be crossed 
 back. And this deity it was, which Iphicrates 
 the Athenian invoked in making a league: and 
 because he roundly and openly avows what 
 most others studiously conceal, it may be 
 proper to give his own words. Observing 
 that the Lacedaemonians were inventing and 
 proposing a variety of securities, sanctions, and 
 bonds of alliance, he interrupted them thus: 
 "There may indeed, my friends, be one bond 
 and means of security between us; and that is, 
 
260 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 for you to demonstrate you have delivered into 
 our hands, such things as that if you had the 
 greatest desire to hurt us, you could not be 
 able. " Therefore, if the power of offending 
 be taken away, or if by a breach of compact 
 there be danger of destruction or diminution 
 to the state or tribute, then it is that covenants 
 will be ratified, and confirmed, as it were by 
 the Stygian oath, while there remains an 
 impending danger of being prohibited and ex- 
 cluded the banquet of the gods; by which ex- 
 pression the ancients denoted the rights and 
 prerogatives, the affluence, and the felicities, 
 of empire and dominion. 
 
 VI.— PAN, OR NATURE. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The ancients have, with great exactness, de- 
 lineated universal nature under the person of 
 Pan. They leave his origin doubtful; some 
 asserting him the son of Mercury, and others 
 the common offspring of all Penelope's suitors. 
 The latter supposition doubtless occasioned 
 some later rivals to entitle this ancient fable 
 Penelope ; a thing frequently practiced when 
 the earlier relations are applied to more mod- 
 ern characters and persons, though sometimes 
 with great absurdity and ignorance, as in the 
 present case; for Pan was one of the most 
 ancient gods, and long before the time of 
 Ulysses; besides, Penelope was venerated by 
 antiquity for her matronal chastity. A third 
 sort will have him the issue of Jupiter and 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 261 
 
 Hybris, that is, Reproach. But whatever his 
 origin was, the Destinies are allowed his 
 sisters. 
 
 He is described by antiquity, with pyramidal 
 horns reaching up to heaven, a rough and 
 shaggy body, a very long beard, of a biform 
 figure, human above, half brute below, ending 
 in goat's feet. His arms, or ensigns of power, 
 are a pipe in his left hand, composed of seven 
 reeds; in his right a crook; and he wore for his 
 mantle a leopard's skin. 
 
 His attributes and titles were the god of 
 hunters, shepherds, and all the rural inhabi- 
 tants; president of the mountains; and, after 
 Mercury, the next messenger of the gods. He 
 was also held the leader and ruler of the 
 Nymphs, who continually danced and frisked 
 about him, attended with the Satyrs and their 
 elders, the Sileni. He had also the power of 
 striking terrors, especially such as were vain 
 and superstitious; whence they came to be 
 called panic terrors. 
 
 Few actions are recorded of him, only a 
 principal one is, that he challenged Cupid at 
 wrestling, and was worsted. He also caught 
 the giant Typhon in a net, and held him fast. 
 They relate further of him, that when Ceres, 
 growing disconsolate for the rape of Proserpine 
 hid herself, and all the gods took the utmost 
 pains to find her, by going out different ways 
 for that purpose, Pan only had the good fortune 
 to meet her, as he was hunting, and discovered 
 her to the rest. He likewise had the assurance 
 to rival Apollo in music, and in the judgment 
 
262 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 of Midas was preferred; but the judge had, 
 though with great privacy and secrecy, a pair 
 of asses' ears fastened on him for his sentence. 
 
 There is very little said of his amours ; which 
 may seem strange among such a multitude of 
 gods, so profusely amorous. He is only re- 
 ported to have been very fond of Echo, who 
 was also esteemed his wife ; and one nymph 
 more, called Syrinx, with the love of whom 
 Cupid inflamed him for his insolent challenge; 
 so he is reported once to have solicited the moon 
 to accompany him apart into the deep woods. 
 
 Lastly, Pan had no descendant, which also is 
 a wonder, when the male gods were so ex- 
 tremely prolific; only he was the reputed 
 father of a servant-girl called Iambe, who used 
 to divert strangers with her ridiculous prattling 
 stories. 
 
 This fable is perhaps the noblest of all 
 antiquity, and pregnant with the mysteries and 
 secrets of nature. Pan, as the name imports, 
 represents the universe, about whose origin 
 there are two opinions, viz., that it either 
 sprung from Mercury, that is, the divine word, 
 according to the Scriptures and philosophical 
 divines, or from the confused seeds of things. 
 For they who, allow only one beginning of all 
 things, either ascribe it to God ; or, if they 
 suppose a material beginning, acknowledge it 
 to be various in its powers; so that the whole 
 dispute comes to these points; viz., either that 
 nature proceeds from Mercury, or from Pene- 
 lope and all her suitors. 
 
 The third origin of Pan seems borrowed by 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 263 
 
 the Greeks from the Hebrew mysteries, either 
 by means of the Egyptians or otherwise; for it 
 relates to the state of the world, not in its first 
 creation, but as made subject to death and cor- 
 ruption after the fall ; and in this state it was 
 and remains, the offspring of God and Sin, or 
 Jupiter and Reproach. And, therefore, these 
 three several accounts of Pan's birth may seem 
 true, if duly distinguished in respect of things 
 and times. For this Pan, or the universal 
 nature of things, which we view and contem- 
 plate, had its origin from the divine Word and 
 confused matter, first created by God himself, 
 with the subsequent introduction of sin and 
 consequently corruption. 
 
 The Destinies, or the natures and fates of 
 things, are justly made Pan's sisters, as the 
 chain of natural causes links together the rise, 
 duration, and corruption ; the exaltation, degen- 
 eration, and working; the processes, the effects, 
 and changes, of all that can any way happen 
 to things. 
 
 Horns are given him, broad at the roots, but 
 narrow and sharp at the top, because the 
 nature of all things seems pyramidal ; for indi- 
 viduals are infinite, but being collected into a 
 variety of species, they rise up into kinds, and 
 these again ascend, and are contracted into 
 generals, till at length nature may seem col- 
 lected to a point. And no wonder if Pan's 
 horns reach to the heavens, since the sublim- 
 ities of nature, or abstract ideas, reach in a 
 manner to things divine; for there is a short 
 
264 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and ready passage from metaphysics to natural 
 theology. 
 
 Pan's body, or the. body of nature, is, with 
 great propriety and elegance, painted shaggy 
 and hairy, as representing the rays of things; 
 for rays are as the hair, or fleece of nature, 
 and more or less worn by all bodies. This evi- 
 dently appears in vision, and in all effects or 
 operations at a distance: for whatever operates 
 thus may be properly said to emit rays. But 
 particularly the beard of Pan is exceeding long, 
 because the rays of the celestial bodies pene- 
 trate, and act to a prodigious distance, and 
 have descended into the interior of the earth 
 so far as to change its surface ; and the sun 
 himself, when clouded on its upper part, ap- 
 pears to the eye bearded. 
 
 Again, the body of nature is justly described 
 biform, because of the difference between its 
 superior and inferior parts, as the former, for 
 their beauty, regularity of motion, and in- 
 fluence over the earth, may be properly rep- 
 resented by the human figure, and the latter, 
 because of their disorder, irregularity, and 
 subjection to the celestial bodies, are by the 
 brutal. This biform figure also represents the 
 participation of one species with another; for 
 there appear to be no simple natures ; but all 
 participate or consist of two: thus man has 
 somewhat of the brute, the brute somewhat of 
 the plant, the plant somewhat of the mineral ; 
 so that all natural bodies have really two 
 faces, or consist of a superior and an inferior 
 species. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 265 
 
 There lies a curious allegory in the making 
 of Pan goat-footed, on account of the motion 
 of ascent which the terrestrial bodies have 
 toward the air and heavens; for the goat is a 
 clambering creature, that delights in climbing 
 up rocks and precipices ; and in the same man- 
 ner the matters destined to this lower globe 
 strongly affect to rise upward, as appears from 
 the clouds and meteors. 
 
 Pan's arms, or the ensigns he bears in his 
 hands, are of two kinds — the one an emblem of 
 harmony, the other of empire. His pipe, com- 
 posed of seven reeds, plainly denotes the con- 
 sent and harmony, or the concords and dis- 
 cords of things, produced by the motion of the 
 seven planets. His crook also contains a fine 
 representation of the ways of nature, which 
 are partly straight and partly crooked; thus the 
 staff, having an extraordinary bend toward 
 the top, denotes that the works of Divine 
 Providence are generally brought about by 
 remote means, or in a circuit, as if somewhat 
 else were intended rather than the effect pro- 
 duced, as in the sending of Joseph into Egypt, 
 etc. So likewise in human government, they 
 who sit at the helm manage and wind the 
 people more successfully by pretext and oblique 
 courses, than they could by such as are direct 
 and straight; so that, in effect, all scepters are 
 crooked at the top. 
 
 Pan's mantle, or clothing, is with great in- 
 genuity made of a leopard's skin, because of 
 the spots it has, for in like manner the heavens 
 are sprinkled with stars, the sea with islands, 
 
 18 Bacon 
 
266 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 the earth with flowers, and almost each parti- 
 cular thing is variegated or wears a mottled 
 coat. 
 
 The office of Pan could not be more lively 
 expressed than by making him the god of hun- 
 ters; for every natural action, every motion 
 and process, is no other than a chase ; thus arts 
 and sciences hunt out their works, and human 
 schemes and counsels their several ends ; and 
 all living creatures either hunt out their ail- 
 ment, pursue their prey, or seek their pleas- 
 ures, and this in a skilful and sagacious man- 
 ner. He is also styled the god of the rural 
 inhabitants, because men in this situation live 
 more according to nature than they do in cities 
 and courts, where nature is so corrupted with 
 effeminate arts, that the saying of the poet 
 may be verified — 
 
 — pars minima est ipsa puella sui. 
 
 He is likewise particularly styled President of 
 the Mountains, because in mountains and lofty 
 places the nature of things lies more open and 
 exposed to the eye and the understanding. 
 
 In his being called the messenger of the gods, 
 next after Mercury, lies a divine allegory, as 
 next after the Word of God, the image of the 
 world is the herald of the Divine power and 
 wisdom, according to the expression of the 
 Psalmist, "the heavens declare the glory of 
 God, and the firmament showeth his handi- 
 work. ' ' 
 
 Pan is delighted with the company of the 
 Nymphs; that is, the souls of all living creat- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 267 
 
 ures are the delight of the world; and he is 
 properly called their governor, because each of 
 them follows its own nature as a leader, and all 
 dance about their own respective rings, with 
 infinite variety and never-ceasing motion. 
 And with these continually join the Satyrs and 
 Sileni ; that is youth and age ; for all things 
 have a kind of young, cheerful, and dancing 
 time ; and again their time of slowness, totter- 
 ing, and creeping. And whoever, in a true 
 light, considers the motions and endeavors of 
 both these ages, like another Democritus, will 
 perhaps find them as odd and strange as the 
 gesticulations and antic motions of the Satyrs 
 and Sileni. 
 
 The power he had of striking terrors contains 
 a very sensible doctrine; for nature has im- 
 planted fear in all living creatures; as well to 
 keep them from risking their lives as to guard 
 against injuries and violence; and yet this 
 nature or passion keeps not its bounds, but with 
 just and profitable fears always mixes such as 
 are vain and senseless; so that all things, if 
 we could see their insides, would appear full 
 of panic terrors. Thus mankind, particularly 
 the vulgar, labor under a high degree of super- 
 stitions, which is nothing more than a panic 
 dread that principally reigns in unsettled and 
 troublesome times. 
 
 The presumption of Pan in challenging 
 Cupid to the conflict, denotes that matter has 
 an appetite and tendency to a dissolution of the 
 world, and falling back to its first chaos again, 
 unless this depravity and inclination were re 
 
268 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 strained and subdued by a more powerful con- 
 cord and agreement of things, properly ex- 
 pressed by Love or Cupid; it is, therefore, well 
 for mankind, and the state of all things, that 
 Pan was thrown and conquered in the struggle. 
 
 His catching and detaining Typhon in the 
 net receive a similar explanation; for what- 
 ever vast and unusual swells, which the word 
 Typhon signifies, may sometimes be raised in 
 nature, as in the sea, the clouds, the earth, or 
 the like, yet nature catches, entangles, and 
 holds all such outrages and insurrections in her 
 inextricable net, wove as it were of adamant. 
 
 That part of the fable which attributes the 
 discovery of lost Ceres to Pan while he was 
 hunting — a happiness denied the other gods, 
 though they diligently and expressly sought 
 her — contains an exceedingly just and prudent 
 admonition ; viz. , that we are not to expect the 
 discovery of things useful in common life, as 
 that of corn, denoted by Ceres, from abstract 
 philosophies, as if these were the gods of the 
 first order — no, not though we used our utmost 
 endeavors this way — but only from Pan, that 
 is, a sagacious experience and general knowl- 
 edge of nature, which is often found, even by 
 accident, to stumble upon such discoveries 
 while the pursuit was directed another way. 
 
 The event of his contending with Apollo in 
 music affords us a useful instruction, tnat may 
 help to humble the human reason and judg- 
 ment, which is too apt to boast and glory in 
 itself. There seem to be two kinds of har-' 
 mony — the one of Divine Providence, the other 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 269 
 
 of human reason; but the government of the 
 world, the administration of its affairs, and the 
 more secret Divine judgments, sound harsh 
 and dissonant to human ears or human judg- 
 ment; and though this ignorance be justly 
 rewarded with asses' ears, yet they are put on 
 and worn, not openly, but with great secrecy; 
 nor is the deformity of the things seen or ob- 
 served by the vulgar 
 
 We must not find it strange if no amours 
 are related of Pan besides his marriage with 
 Echo; for nature enjoys itself, and in itself 
 all other things. He that loves desires enjoy- 
 ment, but in profusion there is no room for 
 desire; and therefore Pan, remaining content 
 with himself, has no passion unless it be for 
 discourse, which is well shadowed out by Echo 
 or talk, or when it is more accurate, by Syrinx 
 or writing. But Echo makes a most excellent 
 wife for Pan, as being no other than genuine 
 philosophy, which faithfully repeats his words, 
 or only transcribes exactly as nature dictates; 
 thus representing the true image and reflec- 
 tion of the world without adding a tittle. 
 
 It tends also to the support and perfection 
 of Pan or nature to be without offspring ; for 
 the world generates in its parts, and not in the 
 way of a whole, as wanting a body external to 
 itself wherewith to generate. 
 
 Lastly, for the supposed or spurious prattl- 
 ing daughter of Pan, it is an excellent addition 
 to the fable, and aptly represents the talkative 
 philosophies that have at all times been stir- 
 ring, and filled the world with idle tales, being 
 
270 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 ever barren, empty, and servile, though some- 
 times indeed diverting and entertaining, and 
 sometimes again troublesome and importunate. 
 
 VII.— PERSEUS, OR WAR. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE PREPARATION AND CONDUCT 
 NECESSARY TO WAR. 
 
 44 The fable relates, that Perseus was dis- 
 patched from the east by Pallas, to cut off 
 Medusa's head, who had commmitted great 
 ravage upon the people of the west; for this 
 Medusa was so dire a monster as to turn into 
 stone all those who but looked upon her. She 
 was a Gorgon, and the only mortal one of the 
 three, the other two being invulnerable. 
 Perseus, therefore, preparing himself for this 
 grand enterprise, had presents made him 
 from three of the gods: Mercury gave him 
 wings for his heels; Pluto, a helmet; and 
 Pallas, a shield and a mirror. But though he 
 was now so well equipped, he posted not 
 directly to Medusa, but first turned aside to 
 the Greae,who were half-sisters to the Gorgons. 
 
 These Greae were grayheaded, and like old 
 women from their birth, having among them 
 all three but one eye, and one tooth, which, as 
 they had occasion to go out, they each wore 
 by turns, and laid them down again upon 
 coming back. This eye and this tooth they 
 lent to Perseus, who now judging himself 
 sufficently furnished, he, without futher stop, 
 flies swiftly away to Medusa, and finds her 
 asleep. But not venturing his eyes, for fear 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 271 
 
 she should awake, he turned his head aside, 
 and viewed her in Pallas' mirror; and thus 
 directing his stroke, cut off her head; when 
 immediately, from the gushing blood, there 
 darted Pegasus, winged. Perseus now in- 
 serted Medusa's head into Pallas' shield, which 
 thence retained the faculty of astonishing and 
 benumbing all who looked on it. " 
 
 This fable seems invented to show the pru- 
 dent method of choosing, undertaking, and 
 conducting a war ; and, accordingly, lays down 
 three useful precepts about it, as if they were 
 the precepts of Pallas. 
 
 (i) The first is, that no prince should be 
 over-solicitous to subdue a neighboring nation ; 
 for the method of enlarging an empire is very 
 different from that of increasing an estate. 
 Regard is justly had to contiguity, or ad- 
 jacency, in private lands and possessions; but 
 in the extending of empire, the occasion, the 
 facility and advantage of a war are to be re- 
 garded instead of vicinity. It is certain that 
 the Romans, at the time they stretched but 
 little beyond Liguria to the west, had by their 
 arms subdued the provinces as far as Mount 
 Taurus to the east. And thus Perseus readily 
 undertook a very long expedition even from 
 the east to the extremities of the west. 
 
 The second precept is, that the cause of the 
 war be just and honorable; for this adds alac- 
 rity both to the soldiers and people who find 
 the supplies; procures aids, alliances, and 
 numerous other conveniences. Now there is 
 no cause of war more just and laudable than 
 
272 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 the suppressing of tyranny, by which a people 
 are dispirited, benumbed, or left without life 
 and vigor, as at the sight of Medusa. 
 
 Lastly, it is prudently added, that as there 
 were three of the Gorgons, who represent war, 
 Perseus singled her out for his expedition that 
 was mortal; which affords this precept, that 
 such kinds of war should be chosen as may be 
 brought to a conclusion, with pursuing vast 
 and infinite hopes. 
 
 Again, Perseus' setting-out is extremely well 
 adapted to his undertaking, and in a manner 
 commands success; he received dispatch from 
 Mercury, secrecy from Pluto, and foresight 
 from Pallas. It also contains an excellent 
 allegory, that the wings given him by Mer- 
 cury were for his heels, not for his shoulders; 
 because expedition is not so much required in 
 the first preparations for war, as in the subse- 
 quent matters, that administer to the first; for 
 there is no error more frequent in war, than, 
 after brisk preparations, to halt for subsidiary 
 forces and effective supplies. 
 
 The allegory of Pluto's helmet, rendering 
 men invisible and secret, is sufficiently evident 
 of itself; but the mystery of the shield and 
 the mirror lies deeper, and denotes that not 
 only a prudent caution must be had to defend, 
 like the shield, but also such an address and 
 penetration as may discover the strength, the 
 motions, the counsels, and designs of the 
 enemy ; like the mirror of Pallas. 
 
 But though Perseus may now seem ex- 
 tremely well prepared, there still remains the 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 273 
 
 most important thing of all; before he enters 
 upon the war, he must of necessity consult 
 the Greae. These Greae are treasons; half, 
 but degenerate sisters of the Gorgons, who are 
 representatives of war: for wars are generous 
 and noble ; but treasons base and vile. The 
 Greae are elegantly described as hoary-headed, 
 and like old women from their birth; on 
 account of the perpetual cares, fears, and 
 trepidations attending traitors. Their force, 
 also, before it breaks out into open revolt, con- 
 sists either in an eye or a tooth; for all fac- 
 tion, alienated from a state, is both watchful 
 and biting; and this eye and tooth are, as it 
 were, common to all disaffected; because 
 whatever they learn and know is transmitted 
 from one to another, as by the hands of fac- 
 tion. And for the tooth, they all bite with the 
 same; and clamor with one throat; so that 
 each of them singly expresses the multitude. 
 
 These Greae, therefore, must be prevailed 
 upon by Perseus to lend him their eye and 
 their tooth ; the eye to give him indications, 
 and make discoveries; the tooth for sowing 
 rumors, raising envy, and stirring up the 
 minds of the people. And when all these 
 things are thus disposed and prepared, then 
 follows the action of the war. 
 
 He finds Medusa asleep; for whoever under- 
 takes a war with prudence, generally falls 
 upon the enemy unprepared, and nearly in a 
 state of security; and here is the occasion for 
 Pallas' mirror: for it is common enough, 
 before the danger presents itself, to see exactly 
 
 18 Bacon 
 
274 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 into the state and posture of the enemy; but 
 the principal use of the glass is, in the very 
 instant of danger, to discover the manner 
 thereof, and prevent consternation; which is 
 the thing intended by Perseus' turning his 
 head aside, and viewing the enemy in the 
 glass. 
 
 Two effects here follow the conquest: i. 
 The darting forth of Pegasus; which evi- 
 dently denotes fame, that flies abroad, pro- 
 claiming the victory far and near. 2. The 
 bearing of Medusa's head in the shield, which 
 is the greatest possible defense and safeguard; 
 for one grand and memorable enterprise, 
 happily accomplished, bridles all the motions 
 and attempts of the enemy, stupefies disaffec- 
 tion, and quells commotions. 
 
 VIII. — ENDYMION, OR A FAVORITE. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF COURT FAVORITES. 
 
 The goddess Luna is said to have fallen in 
 love with the shepherd Endymion, and to 
 have carried on her amours with him in a new 
 and singular manner; it being her custom, 
 while he lay reposing in his native cave, under 
 Mount Latmus, to descend frequently from 
 her sphere, enjoy his company while he slept, 
 and then go up to heaven again. And all this 
 while, Endymion's fortune was no way preju- 
 diced by his inactive and sleepy life, the god- 
 dess causing his flocks to thrive, and grow so 
 exceeding numerous, that none of the other 
 shepherds could compare with him. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 275 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to describe 
 the tempers and dispositions of princes, who, 
 being thoughtful and suspicious, do not easily 
 admit to their privacies such men as are pry- 
 ing, curious, and vigilant, or, as it were, sleep- 
 less; but, rather, such as are of an easy, oblig- 
 ing nature, and indulge them in their pleas- 
 ures, without seeking anything further; but 
 seeming ignorant, insensible, or, as it were, 
 lulled asleep before them. Princes usually 
 treat such persons familiarly; and, quitting 
 their throne like Luna, think they may with 
 safety unbosom to them. This temper was 
 very remarkable in Tiberius, a prince exceed- 
 ing difficult to please, and who had no favorites 
 but those that perfectly understood his way, 
 and, at the same time, obstinately dissembled 
 their knowledge, almost to a degree of stu- 
 pidity. 
 
 The cave is not improperly mentioned in 
 the fable; it being a common thing for the 
 favorites of a prince to have their pleasant 
 retreats, whither to invite him, by way of 
 relaxation, though without prejudice to their 
 own fortunes; these favorites usually making 
 a good provision for themselves. 
 
 For though their prince should not, perhaps, 
 promote them to dignities, yet, out of real 
 affection, and not only for convenience, they 
 generally feel the enriching influence of his 
 bounty. 
 
276 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 IX. —THE SISTER OF THE GIANTS, 
 OR FAME. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF PUBLIC DETRACTION. 
 
 The poets relate, that the giants, produced 
 from the earth, made war upon Jupiter and 
 the other gods, but were repulsed and con- 
 quered by thunder; whereat the earth, pro- 
 voked, brought forth Fame, the youngest sister 
 of the giants, in revenge for the death of her 
 sons. 
 
 Explanation. — The meaning of the fable 
 seems to be this: the earth denotes the nature 
 of the vulgar, who are always swelling, and 
 rising against their rulers, and endeavoring 
 at changes. This disposition, getting a fit 
 opportunity, breeds rebels and traitors, who, 
 with impetuous rage, threaten and contrive 
 the overthrow and destruction of princes. 
 
 And when brought under and subdued, the 
 same vile and restless nature of the people, 
 impatient of peace, produces rumors, detrac- 
 tions, slanders, libels, etc., to blacken those in 
 authority; so that rebellious actions and sedi- 
 tious rumors, differ not in origin and stock, 
 but only as it were in sex; treasons and 
 rebellious being the brothers, and scandal or 
 detraction the sister. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 277 
 
 X.— ACTEON AND PENTHEUS, OR A 
 CURIOUS MAN. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF CURIOSITY, OR PRYING INTO THE 
 SECRETS OF PRINCES AND DIVINE MYSTERIES. 
 
 The ancients afford us two examples for sup- 
 pressing the impertinent curiosity of mankind, 
 in diving into secrets and impudently longing 
 and endeavoring to discover them. The one 
 of these is in the person of Acteon, and the 
 other in that of Pentheus. Acteon, undesign- 
 edly chancing to see Diana naked, was turned 
 into a stag, and torn to pieces byhis own hounds. 
 And Pentheus, desiring to pry into the hidden 
 mysteries of Bacchus' sacrifice, and climbing 
 a tree for that purpose, was struck with a 
 frenzy. This frenzy of Pentheus caused him 
 to see things double, particularly the sun, and 
 his own city Thebes, so that running home- 
 ward, and immediately espying another 
 Thebes, he runs toward that; and thus con- 
 tinues incessantly tending first to the one, and 
 then to the other, without coming at either. 
 
 Explanation. — The first of these fables may 
 relate to the secrets of princes, and the second 
 to divine mysteries. For they who are not 
 intimate with a prince, yet against his will 
 have a knowledge of his secrets, inevitably 
 incur his displeasure; and therefore, being 
 aware that they are singled out, and all oppor- 
 tunities watched against them, they lead the 
 life of a stag, full of fears and suspicions. It 
 likewise frequently happens that their 
 
278 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 servants and domestics accuse them and plot 
 their overthrow, in order to procure favor 
 with the prince; for whenever the king mani- 
 fests his displeasure, the person it falls upon 
 must expect his servants to betray him, and 
 worry him down, as Acteon was worried by 
 his own dogs. 
 
 The punishment of Pentheus is of another 
 kind ; for they who, unmindful of their mortal 
 state, rashly aspire to divine mysteries, by 
 climbing the heights of nature and philosophy, 
 here represented by climbing a tree — their 
 fate is perpetual inconstancy, perplexity, and 
 instability of judgment. For as there is one 
 light of nature, and another light that is 
 divine, they see, as it were, two sons. And 
 as the actions of life, and the determinations 
 of the will, depend upon the understanding, 
 they are distracted as much in opinion as in 
 will ; and therefore judge very inconsistently, 
 or contradictorily ; and see, as it were, Thebes 
 double ; for Thebes being the refuge and habi- 
 tation of Pentheus, here denotes the ends of 
 actions; whence they know not what course 
 to take, but remaining undetermined and unre- 
 solved in their views and designs, they are 
 merely driven about by every sudden gust 
 and impulse of the mind. 
 
 XL— ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF NATURAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Introduction. — The fable of Orpheus, 
 though trite and common, has never been well 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 279 
 
 interpreted, and seems to hold out a picture 
 of universal philosophy; for to this sense may 
 be easily transferred what is said of his being 
 a wonderful and perfectly divine person, 
 skilled in all kinds of harmony, subduing and 
 drawing all things after him by sweet and 
 gentle methods and modulations. For the 
 labors of Orpheus exceed the labors of Her- 
 cules, both in power and dignity, as the works 
 of knowledge exceed the works of strength. 
 • Fable. — Orpheus having his beloved wife 
 snatched from him by sudden death, resolved 
 upon descending to the infernal regions, to 
 try if, by the power of his harp, he could reob- 
 tain her. And, in effect, he so appeased and 
 soothed the infernal powers by the melody and 
 sweetness of his harp and voice, that they 
 indulged him the liberty of taking her back, 
 on condition that she should follow him 
 behind, and he not turn to look upon her till 
 they came into open day; but he through the 
 impatience of his care and affection, and think- 
 ing himself almost past danger, at length 
 looked behind him, whereby the condition was 
 violated, and she again precipitated to Pluto's 
 regions. From this time Orpheus grew pen- 
 sive and sad, a hater of the sex, and went into 
 solitude, where, by the same sweetness of his 
 harp and voice, he first drew the wild beasts of 
 all sorts about him; so that forgetting their 
 natures, they were neither actuated by re- 
 venge, cruelty, lust, hunger, or the desire of 
 prey, but stood gazing about him, in a tame 
 and gentle manner, listening attentively to his 
 
280 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 music. Nay, so great was the power and 
 efficacy of his harmony, that it even caused the 
 trees and stones to remove, and place them- 
 selves in a regular manner about him. When 
 he had for a time, and with great admiration, 
 continued to do this, at length the Thracian 
 women, raised by the instigation of Bacchus, 
 first blew a deep and hoarse-sounding horn, 
 in such an outrageous manner, that it quite 
 drowned the music of Orpheus. And thus 
 the power which, as the link of their society, 
 held all things in order, being dissolved, dis- 
 turbance reigned anew; each creature re- 
 turned to its own nature, and pursued and 
 preyed upon its fellow, as before. The rocks 
 and woods also started back to their former 
 places; 1 and even Orpheus himself was at last 
 torn to pieces by these female furies, and 
 his limbs scattered all over the desert. But, 
 in sorrow and revenge for his death, the 
 river Helicon, sacred to the Muses, hid its 
 waters under ground, and rose again in other 
 places. 
 
 Explanation. — The fable receives this 
 explanation. The music of Orpheus is of two 
 kinds ; one that appeases the infernal powers, 
 and the other that draws together the wild 
 beasts and trees. The former properly relates 
 to natural, and the latter to moral philosophy, 
 or civil society. The reinstatement and restor- 
 ation of corruptible things is the noblest work 
 of natural philosophy; and, in a less degree, 
 the preservation of bodies in their own state, 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 281 
 
 or a prevention of their dissolution and corrup- 
 tion. And if this be possible, it can certainly 
 be effected no other way than by proper and 
 exquisite attemperations of nature; as it were 
 by the harmony and fine touching of the harp. 
 But as this is a thing of exceeding great diffi- 
 culty, the end is seldom obtained; and that, 
 probably, for no reason more than a curious 
 and unreasonable impatience and solicitude. 
 
 And, therefore philosophy, being almost 
 unequal to the task, has cause to grow sad, and 
 hence betakes itself to human affairs, insinu- 
 ating into men's minds the love of virtue, 
 equity, and peace by means of eloquence and 
 persuasion; thus forming men into societies; 
 bringing them under laws and regulations; and 
 making them forget their unbridled passions 
 and affections, so long as they harken to pre- 
 cepts and submit to discipline. And thus they 
 soon after build themselves habitations, form 
 cities, cultivate lands, plant orchards, gardens, 
 etc. So that they may not improperly be said 
 to remove and call the trees and stones 
 together. 
 
 And this regard to civil affairs is justly and 
 regularly placed after diligent trial made for 
 restoring the mortal body; the attempt being 
 frustrated in the end — because the unavoidable 
 necessity of death, thus evidently laid before 
 mankind, animates them to seek a kind of 
 eternity by works of perpetuity, character, and 
 fame. 
 
 It is also prudently added, that Orpheus was 
 afterward averse to women and wedlock, 
 
282 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 because the indulgence of a married state, and 
 the natural affections which men have for their 
 children, often prevent them from entering 
 upon any grand, noble, or meritorious enter- 
 prise for the public good; as thinking it suffi- 
 cient to obtain immortality by their descend- 
 ants, without endeavoring at great actions. 
 
 And even the works of knowledge, though 
 the most excellent among human things, have 
 their periods; for after kingdoms and common- 
 wealths have flourished for a time, disturb- 
 ances, seditions, and wars, often arise, in the 
 din whereof, first the laws are silent, and not 
 heard; and then men return to their own 
 depraved natures — whence cultivated lands and 
 cities soon become desolate and waste. And if 
 this disorder continues, learning and philosophy 
 is infallibly torn to pieces; so that only some 
 scattered fragments thereof can afterward be 
 found up and down, in a few places, like planks 
 after a shipwreck. And barbarous times suc- 
 ceeding, the river Helicon dips underground; 
 that is, letters are buried, till things having 
 undergone their due course of changes, learn- 
 ing rises again, and shows its head, though sel- 
 dom in the same place, but in some other 
 nation. 
 
 XII.— CCELUM, OR BEGINNINGS. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE CREATION, OR ORIGIN OF ALL 
 
 THINGS. 
 
 The poets relate, that Coelum was the most 
 ancient of all the gods; that his parts of gen- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 283 
 
 eration were cut off by his son Saturn; that 
 Saturn had a numerous offspring, but devoured 
 all his sons as soon as they were born ; that 
 Jupiter at length escaped the common fate; 
 and when grown up, drove his father Saturn 
 into Tartarus; usurped the kingdom; cut off 
 his father's genitals, with the same knife where- 
 with Saturn had dismembered Coelum, and, 
 throwing them into the sea, thence sprung 
 Venus. 
 
 Before Jupiter was well established in his 
 empire, two memorable wars were made upon 
 him ; the first by the Titans, in subduing of 
 whom, Sol, the only one of the Titans who 
 favored Jupiter, performed him singular serv- 
 ice; the second by the giants, who being 
 destroyed and subdued by the thunder and 
 arms of Jupiter, he now reigned secure. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable appears to be an 
 enigmatical account of the origin of all things, 
 not greatly differing from the philosophy after- 
 ward embraced by Democritus, who expressly 
 asserts the eternity of matter, but denies the 
 eternity of the world; thereby approaching to 
 the truth of sacred writ, which makes chaos, or 
 uninformed matter, to exist before the six 
 days' works. 
 
 The meaning of the fable seems to be this: 
 Coelum denotes the concave space, or vaulted 
 roof that incloses all matter, and Saturn the 
 matter itself, which cuts off all power of gener- 
 ation from his father; as one and the same 
 quality of matter remains invariably in nature, 
 
284 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 without addition or diminution. But the agi- 
 tations and struggling motions of matter, first 
 produced certain imperfect and ill-joined com- 
 position of things, as it were so many first rudi- 
 ments, or essays of worlds ; till, in process of 
 time, there arose a fabric capable of preserv- 
 ing its form and structure. Whence the first 
 age was shadowed out by the reign of Saturn; 
 who, on account of the frequent dissolutions, 
 and short durations of things, was said to 
 devour his children. And the second age was 
 denoted by the reign of Jupiter; who thrust, 
 or drove those frequent and transitory changes 
 into Tartarus — a place expressive of disorder. 
 This place seems to be the middle space, 
 between the lower heavens and the internal 
 parts of the earth, wherein disorder, imperfec- 
 tion, mutation, mortality, destruction, and cor- 
 ruption are principally found. 
 
 Venus was not born during the former gen- 
 eration of things, under the reign of Saturn ; 
 for while discord and jar had the upper hand 
 of concord and uniformity in the matter of the 
 universe, a change of the entire structure was 
 necessary. And in this manner things were 
 generated and destroyed, before Saturn was 
 dismembered. But when this manner of gen- 
 eration ceased, there immediately followed 
 another, brought about by Venus, or a perfect 
 and established harmony of things; whereby 
 changes were wrought in the parts, while the 
 universal fabric remained entire and undis- 
 turbed. Saturn, however, is said to be thrust 
 out and dethroned, not killed, and become 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 285 
 
 extinct; because, agreeably to the opinion of 
 Democritus, the world might relapse into its 
 old confusion and disorder, which Lucretius 
 hoped would not happen in his time. 
 
 But now, when the world was compact, and 
 held together by its own bulk and energy, yet 
 there was no rest from the beginning; for first, 
 there followed considerable motions and dis- 
 turbances in the celestial regions, though so 
 regulated and moderated by the power of the 
 Sun, prevailing over the heavenly bodies, as 
 to continue the world in its state. Afterward 
 there followed the like in the lower parts, by 
 inundations, storms, winds, general earth- 
 quakes, etc., which, however, being subdued 
 and kept under, there ensued a more peaceable 
 and lasting harmony, and consent of things. 
 
 It may be said of this fable, that it includes 
 philosophy; and again, that philosophy includes 
 the fable; for we know, by faith, that all these 
 things are but the oracle of sense, long since 
 ceased and decayed; but the matter and fabric 
 of the world being justly attributed to a creator. 
 
 XIII.— PROTEUS, OR MATTER. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF MATTER AND ITS CHANGES. 
 
 Proteus, according to the poets was Nep- 
 tune's herdsman; an old man, and a most 
 extraordinary prophet, who understood things 
 past and present, as well as future ; so that 
 besides the business of divination, he was the 
 revealer and interpreter of all intiquity, and 
 secrets of every kind. He lived in a vast cave, 
 
286 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 where his custom was to tell over his herd of 
 sea-calves at noon, and then to sleep. Who- 
 ever consulted him, had no other way of obtain- 
 ing an answer, but by binding him with man- 
 acles and fetters ; when he, endeavoring to free 
 himself, would change into all kinds of shapes 
 and miraculous forms : as of fire, water, wild 
 beasts, etc. ; till at length he resumed his own 
 shape again. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to point at 
 the secrets of nature, and the states of matter. 
 For the person of Proteus denotes matter, the 
 oldest of all things, after God himself; that 
 resides, as in a cave, under the vast concavity 
 of the heavens. He is represented as the serv- 
 ant of Neptune, because the various operations 
 and modifications of matter are principally 
 wrought in a fluid state. The herd, or flock of 
 Proteus, seems to be no other than the several 
 kinds of animals, plants, and minerals, in 
 which matter appears to diffuse and spend 
 itself; so that after having formed these sev- 
 eral species, and as it were finished its task, it 
 seems to sleep and repose without otherwise 
 attempting to produce any new ones. And 
 this is the moral of Proteus' counting his herd, 
 then going to sleep. 
 
 This is said to be done at noon, not in the 
 morning or evening; by which is meant the 
 time best fitted and disposed for the produc- 
 tion of species, from a matter duly prepared, 
 and made ready beforehand, and now lying in 
 a middle state, between its first rudiments and 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 287 
 
 decline; which, we learn from sacred history, 
 was the case at the time of the creation; when 
 by the efficacy of the divine command, matter 
 directly came together, without any transfor- 
 mation of intermediate changes, which it 
 affects; instantly obeyed the order, and ap- 
 peared in the form of creatures. 
 
 And thus far the fable reaches of Proteus, 
 and his flock, at liberty and unrestrained. 
 For the universe, with the common structures 
 and fabrics of the creatures, is the face of mat- 
 ter, not under constraint, or as the flock wrought 
 upon and tortured by human means. But if 
 any skilful minister of nature shall apply force 
 to matter, and by design torture and vex it, in 
 order to its annihilation, it, on the contrary, 
 being brought under this necessity, changes 
 and transforms itself into a strange variety of 
 shapes and appearances; for nothing but the 
 power of the Creator can annihilate, or truly 
 destroy it; so that at length, running through 
 the whole circle of transformations, and com- 
 pleting its period, it in some degree restores 
 itself, if the force be continued. And that 
 method of binding, torturing, or detaining, will 
 prove the most effectual and expeditious, which 
 makes use of manacles and fetters; that is, 
 lays hold and works upon matter in the extrem- 
 est degrees. 
 
 The addition in the fable that makes Proteus 
 a prophet, who had the knowledge of things 
 past, present, and future, excellently agrees 
 with the nature of matter; as he who knows 
 the properties, the changes, and the processes 
 
288 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 of matter, must of necessity understand the 
 effects and sum of what it does, has done, or 
 can do, though his knowledge extends not to 
 all the parts and particulars thereof. 
 
 XIV.— MEMNON, OR A YOUTH TOO 
 FORWARD. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE FATAL PRECEPITANCY OF 
 YOUTH. 
 
 The poets made Memnon the son of Aurora, 
 and bring him to the Trojan war in beautiful 
 armor, and flushed with popular praise ; where, 
 thirsting after further glory, and rashly hurry- 
 ing on to the greatest enterprises, he engages 
 the bravest warrior of all the Greeks, Achilles, 
 and falls by his hand in single combat. Jup- 
 iter, in commiseration of his death, sent birds 
 to grace his funeral, that perpetually chanted 
 certain mournful and bewailing dirges. It is 
 also reported, that the ways of the rising sun, 
 striking his statue, used to give a lamenting 
 sound. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable regards the un- 
 fortunate end of those promising youths, 
 who, like sons of the morning, elate with empty 
 hopes and glittering outsides, attempt things 
 beyond their strength; challenge the bravest 
 heroes; provoke them to the combat; and 
 proving unequal, die in their high attempts. 
 
 The death of such youths seldom fails to 
 meet with infinite pity; as no mortal calamity 
 is more moving and afflicting than to see the 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 289 
 
 flower of virtue cropped before its time. Nay, 
 the prime of life enjoyed to the full, or even 
 to a degree of envy, does not assuage or mod- 
 erate the grief occasioned by the untimely 
 death of such hopeful youths; but lamenta- 
 tions and bewailings fly, like mournful birds, 
 about their tombs, for a long while after; 
 especially upon all fresh occasions, new com- 
 motions, and the beginning of great actions, 
 the passionate desire of them is renewed, as by 
 the sun's morning rays. 
 
 XV.— TYTHONUS, OR SATIETY. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF PREDOMINANT PASSIONS. 
 
 It is elegantly fabled by Tythonus, that being 
 exceedingly beloved by Aurora, she petitioned 
 Jupiter that he might prove immortal, thereby 
 to secure herself the everlasting enjoyment of 
 his company; but through female inadvertence 
 she forgot to add, that he might never grow 
 old ; so that, though he proved immortal, he 
 became miserably worn and consumed with age, 
 insomuch that Jupiter, out of pity, at length 
 transformed him to a grasshopper. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to contain 
 an ingenious description of pleasure; which at 
 first, as it were in the morning of the day, is so 
 welcome that men pray to have it everlasting, 
 but forget that satiety and weariness of it will, 
 like old age, overtake them, though they think 
 not of it; so that at length, when their appetite 
 for pleasurable actions is gone, their desires 
 
 19 Bacon 
 
290 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and affections often continue ; whence we com- 
 monly find that aged persons delight them- 
 selves with the discourse and remembrance of 
 the things agreeable to them in their better 
 days. This is very remarkable in men of a 
 loose, and men of a military life; the former 
 whereof are always talking over their amours, 
 and the latter the exploits of their youth ; like 
 grasshoppers, that show their vigor only by 
 their chirping. 
 
 XVI.— JUNO'S SUITOR, OR BASENESS. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF SUBMISSION AND ABJECTION. 
 
 The poet tells us that Jupiter, to carry on 
 his love intrigues, assumed many different 
 shapes; as of a bull, an eagle, a swan, a golden 
 shower, etc. ; but when he attempted Juno, he 
 turned himself into the most ignoble and ridic- 
 ulous creature — even that of a wretched, wet, 
 weather-beaten, affrighted, trembling, and half- 
 starved cuckoo. 
 
 Explanation. — This is a wise fable, and 
 drawn from the very entrails of morality. 
 The moral is, that men should not be conceited 
 of themselves, and imagine that a discovery of 
 their excellences will always render them 
 acceptable ; for this can only succeed accord- 
 ing to the nature and manners of the person 
 they court, or solicit ; who, if he be a man not 
 of the same gifts and endowments, but alto- 
 gether of a haughty and contemptuous 
 behavior, here represented by the person of 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 291 
 
 Juno, they must entirely drop the character 
 that carries the least show of worth, or grace- 
 fulness ; if they proceed upon any other foot- 
 ing, it is downright folly; nor is it sufficient to 
 act the deformity of obsequiousness, unless 
 they really change themselves, and become 
 abject and contemptible in their persons. 
 
 XVII.— CUPID, OR AN ATOM. 
 
 , EXPLAINED OF THE CORPUSCULAR PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The particulars related by the poets of 
 Cupid, or Love, no not properly agree to the 
 same person; yet they differ only so far, that 
 if the confusion of persons be rejected, the 
 correspondence may hold. They say, that 
 Love was the most ancient of all the gods, and 
 existed before everything else, except Chaos, 
 which is held coeval therewith. But for Chaos, 
 the ancients never paid divine honors, nor gave 
 the title of a god thereto. Love is represented 
 absolutely without progenitor, excepting only 
 that he is said to have proceeded from the egg 
 of Nox ; but that himself begot the gods, and 
 all things else, on Chaos. His attributes are 
 four, vix. : i, perpetual infancy; 2, blindness; 
 3, nakedness; and 4, archery. 
 
 There was also another Cupid, or Love, the 
 youngest son of the gods, born of Venus; and 
 upon him the attributes of the elder are trans- 
 ferred with some degree of correspondence. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable points at, and 
 enters, the cradle of nature. Love seems to 
 
292 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 be the appetite, or incentive, of the primitive 
 matter; or, to speak more distinctly, the nat- 
 ural motion, or moving principle, of the orig- 
 inal corpuscles, or atoms; this being the most 
 ancient and only power that made and wrought 
 all things out of matter. It is absolutely with- 
 out parent, that is, without cause ; for causes 
 are as parents to effects; but this power or 
 efficacy could have no natural cause; for, 
 excepting God, nothing was before it: and 
 therefore it could have no efficient in nature. 
 And as nothing is more inward with nature, it 
 can neither be a genius nor a form; and, 
 therefore, whatever it is, it must be somewhat 
 positive, though inexpressible. And if it were 
 possible to conceive its modus and process, yet 
 it could not be known from its cause, as being, 
 next to God, the cause of causes, and itself 
 without a cause. And perhaps we are not to 
 hope that the modus of it should fall or be 
 comprehended, under human inquiry. Whence 
 it is properly feigned to be the egg of Nox, or 
 laid in the dark. 
 
 The divine philosopher declares, that "God 
 has made everything beautiful in its season: 
 and has given over the world to our disputes 
 and inquiries: but that man cannot find out 
 the work which God has wrought, from its 
 beginning up to its end. " Thus the summary 
 or collective law of nature, or the principle of 
 love, impressed by God upon the original 
 particles of all things, so as to make them 
 attack each other and come together, by the 
 repetition and multiplication whereof all the 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 293 
 
 variety in the universe is produced, can scarce 
 possibly find full admittance into the thoughts 
 of men, though some faint notion may be had 
 thereof. The Greek philosophy is subtile, and 
 busied in discovering the material principles of 
 things, but negligent and languid in discover- 
 ing the principles of motion, in which the 
 energy and efficacy of every operation consists. 
 And here the Greek philosophers seem per- 
 fectly blind and childish : for the opinion of the 
 Peripatetics, as to the stimulus of matter, by 
 privation, is little more than words, or rather 
 sound than signification. And they who refer 
 it to God, though they do well therein, yet 
 they do it by a start, and not by proper degrees 
 of assent ; for doubtless there is one summary, 
 or capital law, in which nature meets, subordi- 
 nate to God, viz., the law mentioned in the 
 passage above quoted from Solomon; or the 
 work which God has wrought from its begin- 
 ning up to its end. 
 
 Democritus, who further considered this sub- 
 ject, having first supposed an atom, or cur- 
 puscle, of some dimension or figure, attributed 
 thereto an appetite, desire, or first motion 
 simply, and another comparatively, imagining 
 that all things properly tended to the center of 
 the world; those containing more matter fall- 
 ing faster to the center, and thereby remov- 
 ing, and in the shock driving away, such as 
 held less. But this is a slender conceit, and 
 regards too few particulars; for neither the 
 revolutions of the celestial bodies, nor the con- 
 tractions and expansions of things, can be re- 
 
294 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 duced to this principle. And for the opinion 
 of Epicurus, as to the declination and fortui- 
 tous agitation of atoms, this only brings the 
 matter back again to a trifle, and wraps it up 
 in ignorance and night. 
 
 Cupid is elegantly drawn a perpetual child ; 
 for compounds are larger things, and have 
 their periods of age; but the first seeds or 
 atoms of bodies are small, and remain in a 
 perpetual infant state. 
 
 He is again justly represented naked; as all 
 compounds may properly be said to be dressed 
 and clothed, or to assume a personage; whence 
 nothing remains truly naked, but the original 
 particles of things. 
 
 The blindness of Cupid, contains a keep 
 allegory; for this same Cupid, Love, or appe- 
 tite of the world, seems to have very little fore- 
 sight, but directs his steps and motions con- 
 formably to what he finds next him, as blind 
 men do when they feel out their way ; which 
 renders the divine and overruling Providence 
 and foresight the more surprising ; as by a cer- 
 tain steady law, it brings such a beautiful 
 order and regularity of things out of what 
 seems extremely casual, void of design, and, 
 as it were, really blind. 
 
 The last attribute of Cupid is archery, viz., 
 a virtue or power operating at a distance ; for 
 everything that operates at a distance, may 
 seem, as it were, to dart, or shoot with arrows. 
 And whoever allows of atoms and vacuity, 
 necessarily supposes that the virtue of atoms 
 operates at a distance ; for without this opera- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 295 
 
 tion, no motion could be excited, on account of 
 the vacuum interposing, but all things would 
 remain sluggish and unmoved. 
 
 As to the other Cupid, he is properly said to 
 be the youngest son of the gods, as his power 
 could not take place before the formation of 
 species, or particular bodies. The description 
 given us of him transfers the allegory to mor- 
 ality, though he still retains some resemblance 
 with the ancient Cupid; for as Venus univer- 
 sally excites the affection of association and 
 the desire of procreation, her son Cupid applies 
 the affection to individuals; so that the gen- 
 eral disposition proceeds from Venus, but the 
 more close sympathy from Cupid. The for- 
 mer depends upon a near approximation of 
 causes, but the latter upon deeper, more neces- 
 sitating, and uncontrollable principles, as if 
 they proceeded from the ancient Cupid, on 
 whom all exquisite sympathies depend. 
 
 XVIII.— DIOMED, OR ZEAL. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF PERSECUTION, OR ZEAL FOR 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Diomed acquired great glory and honor at 
 the Trojan war, and was highly favored by 
 Pallas, who encouraged and excited him by no 
 means to spare Venus, if he should causally 
 meet her in fight. He followed the advice 
 with too much eagerness and intrepidity, and 
 accordingly wounded that goddess in her hand. 
 This presumptuous action remained unpunished 
 for a time, and when the war was ended he 
 
296 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 returned with great glory and renown to his 
 own country, where, finding himself embroiled 
 with domestic affairs, he retired into Italy. 
 Here also at first he was well received and 
 nobly entertained by King Daunus, who, be- 
 sides other gifts and honors, erected statues 
 for him over all his dominions. But upon the 
 first calamity that afflicted the people after the 
 stranger's arrival, Daunus immediately re- 
 flected that he entertained a devoted person in 
 his palace, an enemy to the gods, and one who 
 had sacrilegiously wounded a goddess with his 
 sword, whom it was impious but to touch. To 
 expiate, therefore, his country's guilt, he, 
 without regard to the laws of hospitality, which 
 were less regarded by him than the laws of 
 religion, directly slew his guest, and com- 
 manded his statues and all his honors to be 
 razed and abolished. Nor was it safe for 
 others to commiserate or bewail so cruel a des- 
 tiny; but even his companions in arms, while 
 they lamented the death of their leader, and 
 filled all places with their complaints, were 
 turned into a kind of swans, which are said, at 
 the approach of their own death, to chant 
 sweet melancholy dirges. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable intimates an ex- 
 traordinary and almost singular thing, for no 
 hero besides Diomed is recorded to have 
 wounded any of the gods. Doubtless we have 
 here described the nature and fate of a man 
 who professedly makes any divine worship or 
 sect of religion, though in itself vain and light, 
 
Wounded that goddess in her hand." — Page 295. 
 
 Bacon's Ess 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 297 
 
 the only scope of his actions, and resolves to 
 propagate it by fire and sword. For although 
 the bloody dissensions and differences about 
 religion were unknown to the ancients, yet so 
 copious and diffusive was their knowledge, 
 that what they knew not by experience they 
 comprehended in thought and representation. 
 Those, therefore, who endeavor to reform or 
 establish any sect of religion, though vain, 
 corrupt, and infamous (which is here denoted 
 under the person of Venus), not by the force 
 of reason, learning, sanctity of manners, the 
 weight of arguments, and examples, but would 
 spread or extirpate it by persecution, pains, 
 penalties, tortures, fire, and sword, may per- 
 haps, be instigated hereto by Pallas, that is, by 
 certain rigid, prudential consideration, and a 
 severity of judgment, by the vigor and efficacy 
 whereof they see thoroughly into the fallacies 
 and fictions of the delusions of this kind; and 
 through aversion to depravity and a well-meant 
 zeal, these men usually for a time acquire 
 great fame and glory, and are by the vulgar, 
 to whom no moderate measures can be accept- 
 able, extolled and almost adored, as the only 
 patrons and protectors of truth and religion, 
 men of any other disposition seeming, in com- 
 parison with these, to be lukewarm, mean- 
 spirited, and cowardly. This fame and felic- 
 ity, however, seldom endures to the end ; but 
 all violence, unless it escapes the reverses and 
 changes of things by untimely death, is com- 
 monly unprosperous in the issue; and if a 
 change of affairs happens, and that sect of 
 
 20 Bacon 
 
298 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 religion which was persecuted and oppressed 
 gains strength and rises again, then the zeal 
 and warm endeavors of this sort of men are 
 condemned, their very name becomes odious, 
 and all their honors terminate in disgrace. 
 
 As to the point that Diomed should be slain 
 by his hospitable entertainer, this denotes that 
 religious' dissensions may cause treachery, 
 bloody animosities, and deceit, even between 
 the nearest friends. 
 
 That complaining or bewailing should not, 
 in so enormous a case, be permitted to friends 
 affected by the catastrophe without punish- 
 ment, includes this prudent admonition, that 
 almost in all kinds of wickedness and deprav- 
 ity men have still room left for commiseration, 
 so that they who hate the crime may yet pity 
 the person and bewail his calamity, from a 
 principle of humanity and good nature; and to 
 forbid the overflowings and intercourses of pity 
 upon such occasions were the extremest of 
 evils ; yet in the cause of religion and impiety 
 the very commiserations of men are noted and 
 suspected. On the other hand, the lamenta- 
 tions and complainings of the followers and 
 attendants of Diomed, that is, of men of the 
 same sect or persuasion, are usually very 
 sweet, agreeable, and moving, like the dying 
 notes of swans or the birds of Diomed. This 
 also is a noble and remarkable part of the alle- 
 gory, denoting that the last words of those who 
 suffer for the sake of religion strongly affect 
 and sway men's minds, and leave a lasting im- 
 pression upon the sense and memory. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 299 
 
 XIX. — DAEDALUS, OR MECHANICAL 
 
 SKILL. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF ARTS AND ARTISTS IN KINGDOMS 
 AND STATES. 
 
 The ancients have left us a description of 
 mechanical skill, industry, and curious arts 
 converted to ill uses, in the person of Daedalus, 
 a most ingenious but execrable artist. This 
 Daedalus was banished for the murder of his 
 brother artist and rival, yet found a kind re- 
 ception in his banishment from the kings and 
 states where he came. He raised many in- 
 comparable edifices to the honor of the gods, 
 and invented many new contrivances for the 
 beautifying and ennobling of cities and public 
 places, but still he was most famous for wicked 
 inventions. Among the rest, by his abomina- 
 ble industry and destructive genius, he assisted 
 in the fatal and infamous production of the 
 monster Minotaur, that devourer of promising 
 youths. And then to cover one mischief with 
 another, and provide for the security of his 
 monster, he invented and built a labyrinth ; a 
 work infamous for its end and design, but 
 admirable and prodigious for art and work- 
 manship. After this, that he might not only 
 be celebrated for wicked inventions, but be 
 sought after, as well for prevention as for in- 
 struments of mischief, he formed that ingeni- 
 ous device of his clew, which led directly 
 through all the windings of the labyrinth. 
 This Daedalus was persecuted by Minos with 
 the utmost severity, diligence, and inquiry; but 
 
300 WISDOM. OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 he always found refuge and means of escap- 
 ing. Lastly, endeavoring to teach his son 
 Icarus the art of flying, the novice, trusting 
 too much to his wings, fell from his towering 
 flight, and was drowned in the sea. 
 
 Explanation. — The sense of the fable runs 
 thus. It first denotes envy, which is contin- 
 ually upon the watch, and strangely prevails 
 among excellent artificers ; for no kind of peo- 
 ple are observed to be more implacably and 
 destructively envious to one another than 
 these. 
 
 In the next place, it observes an impolitic 
 and improvident kind of punishment inflicted 
 upon Daedalus, that of banishment; for good 
 workmen are gladly received everywhere, so 
 that banishment to an excellent artificer is 
 scarce any punishment at all; whereas other 
 conditions of life cannot easily flourish from 
 home. For the admiration of artist is propa- 
 gated and increased among foreigners and 
 strangers; it being a principle in the minds of 
 men to slight and despise the mechanical oper- 
 ators of their own nation. 
 
 The succeeding part of the fable is plain, 
 concerning the use of mechanic arts, whereto 
 human life stands greatly indebted, as receiv- 
 ing from this treasury numerous particulars 
 for the service of religion, the ornament of 
 civil society, and the whole provision and 
 apparatus of life; but then the same magazine 
 supplies instruments of lust, cruelty and death. 
 For, not to mention the arts of luxury and 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 301 
 
 debauchery, we plainly see how far the busi- 
 ness of exquisite poisons, guns, engines of war, 
 and such kind of destructive inventions, ex- 
 ceeds the cruelty and barbarity of the Mino- 
 taur himself. 
 
 The addition of the labyrinth contains a 
 beautiful allegory, representing the nature of 
 mechanic arts in general; for all ingenious 
 and accurate mechanical inventions may be 
 conceived as a labyrinth, which, by reason of 
 their subtility, intricacy, crossing, and interfer- 
 ing with one another, and the apparent resem- 
 blances they have among themselves, scarce 
 any power of the judgment can unravel and 
 distinguish; so that they are only to be under- 
 stood and traced by the clew of experience. 
 
 It is no less prudently added, that he who 
 invented the windings of the labyrinth, should 
 also show the use and management of the 
 clew; for mechanical arts have an ambiguous 
 or double use, and serve as well to produce as 
 to prevent mischief and destruction; so that 
 their virtue almost destroys or unwinds itself. 
 
 Unlawful arts, and, indeed, frequently arts 
 themselves, are persecuted by Minos, that is, 
 by laws, which prohibit and forbid their use 
 among the people; but notwithstanding this, 
 they are hid, concealed, retained, and every- 
 where find reception and skulking-places; a 
 thing well observed by Tacitus of the astrol- 
 ogers and fortune tellers of his time. "These," 
 says he, "are a kind of men that will always 
 be prohibited, and yet will always be retained 
 in our city." 
 
302 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 But lastly, all unlawful and vain arts, of 
 what kind soever, lose their reputation in tract 
 of time ; grow contemptible and perish, through 
 their over-confidence, like Icarus; being com- 
 monly unable to perform what they boasted. 
 And to say the truth, such arts are better sup- 
 pressed by their own vain pretensions, than 
 checked or restrained by the bridle of laws. 
 
 XX. — ERICTHONIUS, OR IMPOSTURE. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE IMPROPER USE OF FORCE IN 
 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The poets feign that Vulcan attempted the 
 chastity of Minerva, and impatient of refusal, 
 had recourse to force; the consequence of 
 which was the birth of Ericthonius, whose 
 body from the middle upward was comely and 
 well-proportioned, but his thighs and legs 
 small, shrunk, and deformed, like an eel. 
 Conscious of his defect, he became the inventor 
 of chariots, so as to show the graceful, but 
 conceal the deformed part of his body. 
 
 Explanation. — This strange fable seems to 
 carry this meaning. Art is here represented 
 under the person of Vulcan, by reason of the 
 various uses it makes of fire ; and nature under 
 the person of Minerva, by reason of the indus- 
 try employed in her works. Art, therefore, 
 whenever it offers violence to nature, in order 
 to conquer, subdue, and bend her to its pur- 
 pose, by tortures and force of all kinds, seldom 
 obtains the end proposed; yet upon great 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 303 
 
 struggle and application, there proceed certain 
 imperfect births, or lame abortive works, 
 specious in appearance, but weak and unstable 
 in use; which are, nevertheless, with great 
 pomp and deceitful appearances, triumphantly 
 carried about, and shown by impostors. A 
 procedure very familiar, and remarkable in 
 chemical productions, and new mechanical in- 
 ventions; especially when the inventors rather 
 hug their errors than improve upon them, and 
 go on struggling with nature, not courting her. 
 
 XXL— DEUCALION, OR RESTITUTION. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF A USEFUL HINT IN NATURAL 
 PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The poets tell us, that the inhabitants of the 
 old world being totally destroyed by the uni- 
 versal deluge, excepting Deucalion and 
 Pyrrha, these two desiring with zealous and 
 fervent devotion to restore mankind, received 
 this oracle for answer, that "they should suc- 
 ceed by throwing their mother's bones behind 
 them." This at first cast them into great sor- 
 row and despair, because, as all things were 
 leveled by the deluge, it was in vain to seek 
 their mother's tomb; but at length they un- 
 derstood the expression of the oracle to signify 
 the stones of the earth, which is esteemed the 
 mother of all things. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to reveal a 
 secret of nature, and correct an error familiar 
 to the mind; for men's ignorance leads them 
 
304 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 to expect the renovation or restoration of 
 things from their corruption and remains, as 
 the phoenix is said to be restored out of its 
 ashes; which is a very improper procedure be- 
 cause such kind of materials have finished 
 their course, and are become absolutely unfit 
 to supply the first rudiments of the same 
 things again ; whence, in cases of renovation, 
 recourse should be had to more common prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 XXIL— NEMESIS, OR THE VICISSI- 
 TUDE OF THINGS. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE REVERSES OF FORTUNE. 
 
 Nemesis is represented as a goddess vener- 
 ated by all, but feared by the powerful and the 
 fortunate. She is said to be the daughter of 
 Nox and Oceanus. She is drawn with wings, 
 and a crown; a javelin of ash in her right 
 hand; a glass containing Ethiopians in her 
 left ; and riding upon a stag. 
 
 Explanation. — The fable receives this ex- 
 planation. The word Nemesis manifestly sig- 
 nifies revenge, or retribution ; for the office of 
 this goddess consisted in interposing, like the 
 Roman tribunes, with an "I forbid it" in all 
 courses of constant and perpetual felicity, so 
 as not only to chastise haughtiness, but also to 
 repay even innocent and moderate happiness 
 with adversity, as if it were decreed, that none 
 of the human race should be admitted to the 
 banquet of the gods, but ior sport. And, in- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 305 
 
 deed, to read over that chapter of Pliny 
 wherein he has collected the miseries and mis- 
 fortunes of Augustus Caesar, whom of all man- 
 kind one would judge most fortunate — as he 
 had a certain art of using and enjoying pros- 
 perity, with a mind no way tumid, light, 
 effeminate, confused, or melancholic — one can 
 not but think this is a very great and powerful 
 goddess, who could bring such a victim to her 
 altar. 
 
 The parents of this goddess were Oceanus 
 and Nox; that is, the fluctuating change of 
 things, and the obscure and secret divine de- 
 crees. The changes of things are aptly repre- 
 sented by the Ocean, on account of its perpet- 
 ual ebbing and flowing; and secret providence 
 is justly expressed by Night. Even the hea- 
 thens have observed this secret Nemesis of the 
 night, or the difference between divine and 
 human judgment. 
 
 Wings are given to Nemesis, because of the 
 sudden and unforeseen changes of things; for, 
 from the earliest account of time, it has been 
 common for great and prudent men to fall by 
 the dangers they most despised. Thus Cicero, 
 when admonished by Brutus of the infidelity 
 and rancor of Octavius, coolly wrote back, "I 
 cannot, however, but be obliged to you, Bru- 
 tus, as I ought, for informing me, though of 
 such a trifle. " 
 
 Nemesis also has her crown, by reason of the 
 invidious and malignant nature of the vulgar, 
 who generally rejoice, triumph, and crown 
 
 20 Bacon 
 
306 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 her, at the fall of the fortunate and the power- 
 ful. And for the javelin in her right hand, it 
 has regard to those whom she has actually 
 struck and transfixed. But whoever escapes her 
 stroke, or feels no actual calamity or misfor- 
 tune, she affrights with a black and dismal 
 sight in her left hand; for doubtless, mortals 
 on the highest pinnacle of felicity have a pros- 
 pect of death, diseases, calamities, perfidious 
 friends, undermining enemies, reverses of for- 
 tune, etc., represented by the Ethiopians in her 
 glass. Thus Virgil, with great elegance, 
 describing the battle of Actium, says of Cleo- 
 patra, that 44 she did not yet perceive the two 
 asps behind her;" but soon after, which way 
 soever she turned, she saw whole troops of 
 Ethiopians still before her. 
 
 Lastly, it is significantly added, that Neme- 
 sis rides upon a stag, which is a very long-lived 
 creature; for though perhaps some, by an 
 untimely death in youth, may prevent or es- 
 cape this goddess, yet they who enjoy a long 
 flow of happiness and power, doubtless become 
 subject to her at length, and are brought to 
 yield. 
 
 XXIII.— ACHELOUS, OR BATTLE. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF WAR BY INVASION. 
 
 The ancients relate that Hercules and 
 Achelous being rivals in the courtship of 
 Deianira, the matter was contested by single 
 combat; when Achelous having transformed 
 himself, as he had power to do, into various 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 307 
 
 shapes, by way of trial ; at length, in the form 
 of a fierce wild bull, prepares himself for the 
 fight; but Hercules still retains his human 
 shape, engages sharply with him, and in the 
 issue broke off one of the bull's horns; and 
 now Achelous, in great pain and fright, to 
 redeem his horn, presents Hercules with the 
 cornucopia. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable relates to military 
 expeditions and preparations; for the prepara- 
 tion of war on the defensive side, here denoted 
 by Achelous, appears in various shapes, while 
 the invading side has but one simple form, 
 consisting either in an army, or perhaps a 
 fleet. But the country that expects the inva- 
 sion is employed in infinite ways, in fortifying 
 towns, blockading passes, rivers, and ports, 
 raising soldiers, disposing garrisons, building 
 and breaking down bridges, procuring aids, 
 securing provisions, arms, ammunition, etc. 
 So that there appears a new face of things 
 every day; and at length, when the country is 
 sufficiently fortified and prepared, it represents 
 to the life the form and threats of a fierce 
 fighting bull. 
 
 On the other side, the invader presses on to 
 the fight, fearing to be distressed in an 
 enemy's country. And if after the battle he 
 remains master of the field, and has now 
 broke, as it were, the horn of his enemy, the 
 besieged, of course, retire inglorious, affrighted 
 and dismayed, to their stronghold, there en- 
 deavoring to secure themselves and repair their 
 
308 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 strength; leaving, at the same time, their 
 country a prey to the conqueror, which is well 
 expressed by the Amalthean horn, or corn- 
 ucopia. 
 
 XXIV.— DIONYSUS, OR BACCHUS. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE PASSIONS. 
 
 The fable runs, that Semele, Jupiter's mis- 
 tress, having- bound him by an inviolable oath 
 to grant her an unknown request, desired he 
 would embrace her in the same form and man- 
 ner he used to embrace Juno; and the promise 
 being irrevocable, she was burned to death 
 with lightning in the performance. The em- 
 bryo, however, was sewed up, and carried in 
 Jupiter's thigh till the complete time of its 
 birth ; but the burden thus rendering the father 
 lame, and causing him pain, the child was 
 thence called Dionysus. When born, he was 
 committed, for some years, to be nursed by 
 Proserpina; and when grown up, appeared 
 with so effeminate a face that his sex seemed 
 somewhat doubtful. He also died and was 
 buried for a time, but afterward revived. 
 When a youth, he first introduced the cultiva- 
 tion and dressing of vines, the method of pre- 
 paring wine, and taught the use thereof; 
 whence becoming famous, he subdued the 
 world, even to the utmost bounds of the Indies. 
 He rode in a chariot drawn by tigers. There 
 danced about him certain deformed demons 
 called Cobali, etc. The Muses also joined in 
 his train. He married Ariadne, who was 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 309 
 
 deserted by Theseus. The ivy was sacred to 
 him. He was also held the inventor and in- 
 stitutor of religious rites and ceremonies, but 
 such as were wild, frantic, and full of corrup- 
 tion and cruelty. He had also the power of 
 striking men with frenzies. Pentheus and 
 Orpheus were torn to pieces by the frantic 
 women at his orgies; the first for climbing a 
 tree to behold their outrageous ceremonies, 
 and the other for the music of his harp. But 
 the acts of this god are much entangled and 
 confounded with those of Jupiter. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to contain 
 a little system of morality, so that there is 
 scarce any better invention in all ethics. Un- 
 der the history of Bacchus is drawn the nature 
 of unlawful desire or affection, and disorder ; 
 for the appetite and thirst of apparent good is 
 the mother of all unlawful desires, though 
 ever so destructive, and all unlawful desires 
 are conceived in unlawful wishes or requests, 
 rashly indulged or granted before they are 
 well understood or considered, and when the 
 affection begins to grow warm, the mother of 
 it (the nature of good) is destroyed and burned 
 up by the heat. And while an unlawful de- 
 sire lies in the embryo, or unripened in the 
 mind, w r hich is its father, and here represented 
 by Jupiter, it is cherished and concealed, 
 especially in the inferior part of the mind, cor- 
 responding to the thigh of the body, where 
 pnin twitches and depresses the mind so far as 
 tojenderits resolutions and actions imperfect 
 
310 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and lame. And even after this child of the 
 mind is confirmed, and gains strength by con- 
 sent and habit, and comes forth into action, it 
 must still be nursed by Proserpina for a time; 
 that is, it skulks and hides its head in a clan- 
 destine manner, as it were under ground, till 
 at length, when the checks of shame and fear 
 are removed, and the requisite boldness 
 acquired, it either assumes the pretext of some 
 virtue, or openly despises infamy. And it is 
 justly observed, that every vehement passion 
 appears of a doubtful sex, as having the 
 strength of a man at first, but at last the im- 
 potence of a woman. It is also excellently 
 added, that Bacchus died and rose again ; for 
 the affections sometimes seem to die and be 
 no more ; but there is no trusting them, even 
 though they were buried, being always apt 
 and ready to rise again whenever the occasion 
 or object offers. 
 
 That Bacchus should be the inventor of wine 
 carries a fine allegory with it; for every affec- 
 tion is cunning and subtile in discovering a 
 proper matter to nourish and feed it ; and of 
 all things known to mortals, wine is the most 
 powerful and effectual for exciting and inflam- 
 ing passions of all kinds, being indeed like a 
 common fuel to all. 
 
 It is again with great elegance observed of 
 Bacchus, that he subdued provinces, and un- 
 dertook endless expeditions, for the affections 
 never rest satisfied with what they enjoy, but 
 with an endless and insatiable appetite thirst 
 after something further. And tigers are pret- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 311 
 
 tily feigned to draw the chariot ; for as soon as 
 any affection shall, from going on foot, be 
 advanced to ride, it triumphs over reason, and 
 exerts its cruelty, fierceness, and strength 
 against all that oppose it. 
 
 It is also humorously imagined, that ridicu- 
 lous demons dance and frisk about this cha- 
 riot ; for every passion produces indecent, dis- 
 orderly, interchangeable, and deformed mo- 
 tions in the eyes, countenance, and gesture, so 
 that the person under the impulse, whether of 
 anger, insult, love, etc., though to himself he 
 may seem grand, lofty, or obliging, yet in the 
 eyes of other appears mean, contemptible, or 
 ridiculous. 
 
 The Muses also are found in the train of 
 Bacchus, for there is scarce any passion with- 
 out its art, science, or doctrine to court and 
 flatter it ; but in this respect the indulgence of 
 men of genius has greatly detracted from the 
 majesty of the Muses, who ought to be the 
 leaders and conductors of human life, and not 
 the handmaids of the passions. 
 
 The allegory of Bacchus falling in love with 
 a cast mistress is extremely noble; for it is 
 certain that the affections always court and 
 covet what has been rejected upon experience. 
 And all those who by serving and indulging 
 their passions immensely raise the value of 
 enjoyment, should know, that whatever they 
 covet and pursue, whether riches, pleasure, 
 glory, learning, or anything else, they only 
 pursue those things that have been forsaken 
 
312 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and cast off with contempt by great numbers 
 in all ages, after possession and experience. 
 
 Nor is it without a mystery that the ivy was 
 sacred to Bacchus, and this for two reasons: 
 first, because ivy is an evergreen, or flourishes 
 in the winter; and, secondly, because it winds 
 and creeps about so many things, as trees, 
 walls, and buildings, and raises itself above 
 them. As to the first, every passion grows 
 fresh, strong, and vigorous by opposition and 
 prohibition, as it were by a kind of contrast or 
 antiperistasis, like the ivy in the winter. And 
 for the second, the predominant passion of 
 the mind throws itself, like the ivy, round all 
 human actions, entwines all our resolutions, 
 and perpetually adheres to, and mixes itself 
 among, or even overtops them. 
 
 And no wonder that superstitious rites and 
 ceremonies are attributed to Bacchus, when 
 almost every ungovernable passion grows 
 wanton and luxuriant in corrupt religions ; nor 
 again, that fury and frenzy should be sent and 
 dealt out by him, because every passion is a 
 short frenzy, and if it be vehement, lasting, 
 and take deep root, it terminates in madness. 
 And hence the allegory of Pentheus and 
 Orpheus being torn to pieces is evident: for 
 every headstrong passion is extremely bitter, 
 severe, inveterate, and revengeful upon all 
 curious inquiry, wholesome admonition, free 
 counsel, and persuasion. 
 
 Lastly, the confusion between the persons of 
 Jupiter and Bacchus will justly admit of an 
 allegory, because noble and meritorious actions 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 313 
 
 may sometimes proceed from virtue, sound 
 reason, and magnanimity, and sometimes 
 again from a concealed passion and secret 
 desire of ill, however they may be extolled and 
 praised, insomuch that it is not easy to distin- 
 guish between the acts of Bacchus and the acts 
 of Jupiter. 
 
 XXV.— ATALANTA AND HIPPOMENES, 
 OR GAIN. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE CONTEST BETWEEN ART AND 
 
 NATURE. 
 
 Atalanta, who was exceeding fleet, con- 
 tended with Hippomenes in the course, on con- 
 dition that if Hippomenes won, he should 
 espouse her, or forfeit his life if he lost. The 
 match was very unequal, for Atalanta had 
 conquered numbers, to their destruction. 
 Hippomenes, therefore, had recourse to strat- 
 agem. He procured three golden apples, and 
 purposely carried them with him : they started ; 
 Atalanta outstripped him soon; then Hippo- 
 menes bowled one of his apples before her, 
 across the course, in order not only to make 
 her stoop, but to draw her out of the path. 
 She, prompted by female curiosity, and the 
 beauty of the golden fruit, starts from the 
 course to take up the apple. Hippomenes, in 
 the meantime, holds on his way, and steps 
 before her; but she, by her natural swiftness, 
 soon fetches up her lost ground, and leaves 
 him again behind. Hippomenes, however, 
 by rightly timing his second and third throw, 
 
314 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 at length won the race, not by his swiftness, 
 but his cunning. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to contain 
 a noble allegory of the contest between art and 
 nature. For art, here denoted by Atalanta, 
 is much swifter, or more expeditious in its 
 operations than nature, when all obstacles and 
 impediments are removed, and sooner arrives 
 at its end. This appears almost in every in- 
 stance. Thus fruit comes slowly from the 
 kernel, but soon by inoculation or incision; 
 clay, left to itself, is a long time in acquiring a 
 stony hardness, but is presently burnt by fire 
 into brick. So again in human life, nature is 
 a long while in alleviating and abolishing the 
 remembrance of pain, and assuaging the 
 troubles of the mind ; but moral philosophy, 
 which is the art of living, performs it presently. 
 Yet this prerogative and singular efficacy of art 
 is stopped and retarded to the infinite detri- 
 ment of human life, by certain golden apples ; 
 for there is no one science or art that con- 
 stantly holds on its true and proper course to 
 the end, but they are all continually stopping 
 short, forsaking the track, and turning aside 
 to profit and convenience, exactly like Ata- 
 lanta. Whence it is no wonder that art gets 
 not the victory over nature, nor, according to 
 the condition of the contest, brings her under 
 subjection; but, on the contrary, remains sub- 
 ject to her, as a wife to a husband. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 315 
 
 XXVI.— PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE 
 OF MAN. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF AN OVERRULING PROVIDENCE, AND 
 OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 The ancients relate that man was the work 
 of Prometheus, and formed of clay; only the 
 artificer mixed in with the mass, particles 
 taken from different animals. And being 
 desirous to improve his workmanship, and 
 endow, as well as create, the human race, he 
 stole up to heaven with a bundle of birch-rods, 
 and kindling- them at the chariot of the Sun, 
 thence brought down fire to the earth for the 
 service of men. 
 
 They add, that for this meritorious act Pro- 
 metheus was repaid with ingratitude by man- 
 kind, so that, forming a conspiracy, they 
 arraigned both him and his invention before 
 Jupiter. But the matter was otherwise re- 
 ceived than they imagined; for the accusation 
 proved extremely grateful to Jupiter and the 
 gods, insomuch that, delighted with the action, 
 they not only indulged mankind the use of 
 fire, but moreover conferred upon them a most 
 acceptable and desirable present, viz., perpet- 
 ual youth. 
 
 But men, foolishly overjoyed hereat, laid 
 this present of the gods upon an ass, who, in 
 returning back with it, being extremely 
 thirsty, strayed to a fountain. The serpent, 
 who was guardian thereof, would not suffer 
 him to drink, but upon condition of receiving 
 the burden he carried, whatever it should be. 
 
316 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 The silly ass complied, and thus the perpetual 
 renewal of youth was, for a drop of water, 
 transferred from men to the race of serpents. 
 
 Prometheus, not desisting from his unwar- 
 rantable practices, though now reconciled to 
 mankind after they were thus tricked of their 
 present, but still continuing inveterate against 
 Jupiter, had the boldness to attempt deceit, 
 even in a sacrifice, and is said to have once 
 offered up two bulls to Jupiter, but so as in the 
 hide of one of them to wrap all the flesh and fat 
 of both, and stuffing out the other hide only 
 with the bones; then in a religious and devout 
 manner, gave Jupiter his choice of the two. 
 Jupiter, detesting this sly fraud and hypoc- 
 risy, but having thus an opportunity of punish- 
 ing the offender, purposely chose the mock 
 bull. 
 
 And now giving way to revenge, but finding 
 he could not chastise the insolence of Prome- 
 theus without afflicting the human race (in the 
 production whereof Prometheus had strangely 
 and insufferably prided himself), he com- 
 manded Vulcan to form a beautiful and grace- 
 ful woman, to whom every god presented a 
 certain gift, whence she was called Pandora. 
 They put into her hands an elegant box, con- 
 taining all sorts of miseries and misfortunes; 
 but Hope was placed at the bottom of it. With 
 this box she first goes to Prometheus, to try if 
 she could prevail upon him to receive and open 
 it; but he, being upon his guard, warily re- 
 fused the offer. Upon this refusal, she comes 
 to his brother Epimetheus, a man of a very 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 317 
 
 different temper, who rashly and inconsider- 
 ately opens the box. When finding all kinds 
 of miseries and misfortunes issued out of it, he 
 grew wise too late, and with great hurry and 
 struggle endeavored to clap the cover on again ; 
 but with all his endeavor could scarce keep in 
 Hope, which lay at the bottom. 
 
 Lastly, Jupiter arraigned Prometheus of 
 many heinous crimes: as that he formerly 
 stole fire from heaven; that he contemptuously 
 and deceitfully mocked him by a sacrifice of 
 bones; that he despised his present, adding 
 withal a new crime, that he attempted to rav- 
 ish Pallas; for all which he was sentenced to 
 be bound in chains, and doomed to perpetual 
 torments. Accordingly, by Jupiter's com- 
 mand, he was brought to Mount Caucasus, and 
 there fastened to a pillar so firmly that he 
 could no way stir. A vulture or eagle stood 
 by him, which in the day-time gnawed and 
 consumed his liver; but in the night the 
 wasted parts were supplied again; whence 
 matter for his pain w r as never wanting. 
 
 They relate, however, that his punishment 
 had an end; for Hercules sailing the ocean, in 
 a cup, or pitcher, presented him by the Sun, 
 came at length to Caucasus, shot the eagle 
 with his arrow, and set Prometheus free. In 
 certain nations, also, there were instituted par- 
 ticular games of the torch, to the honor of 
 Prometheus, in which they who ran for the 
 prize carried lighted torches; and as any one 
 of these torches happened to go out, the bearer 
 withdrew himself, and gave way to the next; 
 
318 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 and that person was allowed to win the prize 
 who first brought in his lighted torch to the 
 goal. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable contains and en- 
 forces many just and serious considerations; 
 some whereof have been long since well ob- 
 served, but some again remain perfectly un- 
 touched. Prometheus clearly and expressly 
 signifies ProvideAce; for of all the things in 
 nature, the formation and endowment of man 
 was singled out by the ancients, and esteemed 
 the peculiar work of Providence. The reason 
 hereof seems, i. That the nature of man in- 
 cludes a mind and understanding, which is the 
 seat of Providence. 2. That it is harsh and 
 incredible to suppose reason and mind should 
 be raised, and drawn out of senseless and irra- 
 tional principles; whence it becomes almost 
 inevitable that providence is implanted in the 
 human mind in conformity with, and by the 
 direction and the design of the greater over- 
 ruling Providence. But, 3. The principal 
 cause is this: that man seems to be the thing 
 in which the whole world centers, with respect 
 to final causes; so that if he were away, all 
 other things would stray and fluctuate, with- 
 out end or intention, or become perfectly dis- 
 jointed and out of frame; for all things are 
 made subservient to man, and he receives use 
 and benefit from them all. Thus the revolu- 
 tions, places, and periods, of the celestial 
 bodies, serve him for distinguishing times and 
 sesons, and for dividing the world into differ- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANXIENTS. 319 
 
 ent regions; the meteors afford him prognos- 
 tications of the weather; the winds sail our 
 ships, drive our mills, and move our machines; 
 and the vegetables and animals of all kinds 
 either afford us matter for houses and habita- 
 tions, clothing, food, physic, or tend to ease or 
 delight, to support or refresh us: so that 
 everything in nature seems not made for itself, 
 but for man. 
 
 And it was not without reason added, that 
 the mass of matter whereof man was formed 
 should be mixed up with particles taken from 
 different animals and wrought in with the 
 clay, because it is certain that of all things in 
 the universe man is the most compounded and 
 re-compounded body; so that the ancients not 
 improperly styled him a Microcosm, or little 
 world within himself. For although the 
 chemists have absurdly, and too literally 
 wrested and perverted the elegance of the 
 term microcosm, while they pretend to find all 
 kind of mineral and vegetable matters, or 
 something corresponding to them, in man, 
 yet it remains firm and unshaken that the 
 human body is of all substances the most mixed 
 and organical; whence it has surprising 
 powers and faculties ; for the powers of simple 
 bodies are but few, though certain and quick ; 
 as being little broken or weakened, and not 
 counterbalanced by mixture: but excellence 
 and quantity of energy reside in mixture and 
 composition. 
 
 Man, however, in his first origin, seems to 
 be a defenseless, naked creature, slow in 
 
320 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 assisting himself, and standing in need of 
 numerous things. Prometheus, therefore, 
 hastened to the invention of fire, which sup- 
 plies and administers to nearly all human uses 
 and necessities, insomuch that, if the soul may- 
 be called the form of the forms, if the hand may 
 be called the instrument of instruments, fire 
 may, as properly, be called the assistant of 
 assistants, or the helper of helps; for hence 
 proceed numberless operations, hence all the 
 mechanic arts, and hence infinite assistances 
 are afforded to the sciences themselves. 
 
 The manner wherein Prometheus stole this 
 fire is properly described from the nature of 
 the thing; he being said to have done it by 
 applying a rod of birch to the chariot of the 
 Sun; for birch is used in striking and beating, 
 which clearly denotes the generation of fire 
 to be from the violent percussions and colli- 
 sions of bodies; whereby the matters struck 
 are subtilized, rarefied, put into motion, and 
 so prepared to receive the heat of the celestial 
 bodies; whence they, in a clandestine and 
 secret manner, collect and snatch fire, as it 
 were by stealth, from the chariot of the Sun. 
 
 The next is a remarkable part of the fable, 
 which represents that men, instead of grati- 
 tude and thanks, fell into indignation and ex- 
 postulation, accusing both Prometheus and his 
 fire to Jupiter — and yet the accusation proved 
 highly pleasing to Jupiter; so that he, for this 
 reason, crowned these benefits of mankind 
 with a new bounty. Here it may seem strange 
 that the sin of ingratitude to a creator and 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 321 
 
 benefactor, a sin so heinous as to include 
 almost all others, should meet with approba- 
 tion and reward. But the allegory has another 
 view, and denotes that the accusation and 
 arraignment, both of human nature and 
 human art among mankind, proceeds from a 
 most noble and laudable temper of the mind, 
 and tends to a very good purpose; whereas 
 the contrary temper is odious to the gods, and 
 unbeneficial in itself. For they who break 
 into extravagant praises of human nature, and 
 the arts in vogue, and who lay themselves out 
 in admiring the things they already possess, 
 and will needs have the sciences cultivated 
 among them, to be thought absolutely perfect 
 and complete, in the first place, show little 
 regard to the divine nature, while they extol 
 their own inventions almost as high as his 
 perfection. In the next place, men of this 
 temper are unserviceable and prejudicial in 
 life, while they imagine themselves already got 
 to the top of things, and there rest, with- 
 out further inquiry. On the contrary, they 
 who arraign and accuse both nature and art, 
 and are always full of complaints against 
 them, not only preserve a more just and 
 modest sense of mind, but are also perpetually 
 stirred up to fresh industry and new discov- 
 eries. Is not, then, the ignorance and fatality 
 of mankind to be extremely pitied, while they 
 remain slaves to the arrogance of a few of 
 their own fellows, and are dotingly fond of 
 that scrap of Grecian knowledge, the Peripa- 
 tetic philosophy; and this to such a degree, as 
 
 21 Bacon 
 
322 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 not only to think all accusation or arraignment 
 thereof useless, but even hold it suspect and 
 dangerous? Certainly the procedure of Em- 
 pedocles, though furious — but especially that 
 of Democritus (who with great modesty com- 
 plained that all things were abstruse; that 
 we know nothing; that truth lies hid in deep 
 pits; that falsehood is strangely joined and 
 twisted along with truth, etc.) — is to be pre- 
 ferred before the confident, assuming, and 
 dogmatical school of Aristotle. Mankind are, 
 therefore, to be admonished, that the arraign- 
 ment of nature and of art is pleasing to the 
 gods; and that a sharp and vehement accusa- 
 tion of Prometheus, though a creator, a foun- 
 der, and a master, obtained new blessings and 
 presents from the divine bounty, and proved 
 more sound and serviceable than a diffusive 
 harangue of praise and gratulation. And let 
 men be assured that the fond opinion that they 
 have already acquired enough, is a principal 
 reason why they have acquired so little. 
 
 That the perpetual flower of youth should 
 be the present which mankind received as a 
 reward for their accusation, carries this moral; 
 that the ancients seem not to have despaired 
 of discovering methods, and remedies, ' for 
 retarding old age, and prolonging the period 
 of human life, but rather reckoned it among 
 those things which, through sloth and want 
 of diligent inquiry, perish and come to noth- 
 ing, after having been once undertaken than 
 among such as are absolutely impossible, or 
 placed beyond the reach of the human power. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 323 
 
 For they signify and intimate from the true ' 
 use of fire, and the just and strenuous accusa- 
 tion and conviction of the errors of art, that 
 the divine bounty is not wanting to men in 
 such kind of presents, but that men indeed are 
 wanting to themselves, and lay such an inesti- 
 mable gift upon the back of a slow-paced ass; 
 that is, upon the back of the heavy, dull, 
 lingering thing, experience; from whose 
 sluggish and tortoise-pace proceeds that 
 ancient complaint of the shortness of life, and 
 the slow advancement of arts. And certainly 
 it may well seem, that the two faculties of 
 reasoning and experience are not hitherto 
 properly joined and coupled together, but to 
 be still new gifts of the gods, separately laid, 
 the one upon the back of a light bird, or ab- 
 stract philosophy, and the other upon an ass, 
 or slow-paced practice and trial. And yet good 
 hopes might be conceived of this ass, if it 
 were not for his thirst and the accidents of 
 the way. For we judge, that if any one would 
 constantly proceed, by a certain law and 
 method, in the road of experience, and not by 
 the way thirst after such such experiments as 
 make for profit or ostentation, nor exchange 
 his burden, or quit the original design for the 
 sake of these, he might be a useful bearer of 
 a new and accumulated divine bounty to man- 
 kind. 
 
 That this gift of perpetual youth should pass 
 from men to serpents, seems added by way of 
 ornament, and illustration to the fable; per- 
 haps intimating, at the same time, the shame 
 
324 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 it is for men, that they, with their fire, and 
 numerous arts, cannot procure to themselves 
 those things which nature has bestowed upon 
 many other creatures. 
 
 The sudden reconciliation of Prometheus to 
 mankind, after being disappointed of their 
 hopes, contains a prudent and useful admoni- 
 tion. It points out the levity and temerity of 
 men in new experiments, when, not presently 
 succeeding, or answering to expectation, they 
 precipitantly quit their new undertakings, 
 hurry back to their old ones, and grow recon- 
 ciled thereto. 
 
 After the fable has described the state of 
 man, with regard to arts and intellectual mat- 
 ters it passes on to religion ; for after the invent- 
 ing and settling of arts, follows the establish- 
 ment of divine w T orship, which hypocrisy 
 presently enters into and corrupts. So that 
 by the two sacrifices we have elegantly painted 
 the person of a man truly religious and of a 
 hypocrite. One of these sacrifices contained 
 the fat, or the portion of God, used for burn- 
 ing and incensing; thereby denoting affection 
 and zeal, offered up to his glory. It likewise 
 contained the bowels, which are expressive of 
 charity, along with the good and useful flesh. 
 But the other contained nothing more than 
 dry bones, which nevertheless stuffed out the 
 hide, so as to make it resemble a fair, beautiful 
 and magnificent sacrifice; hereby finely denot- 
 ing the external and empty rights and barren 
 ceremonies, wherewith men burden and stuff 
 out the divine worship — things rather in- 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 325 
 
 tended for show and ostentation than conduc- 
 ing to piety. Nor are mankind simply content 
 with this mock- worship of God, but also impose 
 and father it upon him, as if he had chosen 
 and ordained it. Certainly the prophet, in the 
 person of God, has a fine expostulation, as to 
 this matter of choice: "Is this the fasting 
 which I have chosen, that a man should afflict 
 his soul for a day, and bow down his head 
 like a bulrush? 1 ' 
 
 After thus touching the state of religion, 
 the fable next turns to manners, and the con- 
 ditions of human life. And though it be a 
 very common, yet it is a just interpretation, 
 that Pandora denotes the pleasures and licen- 
 tiousness which the cultivation and luxury of 
 the arts of civil life introduce, as it were, by 
 the instrumental efficacy of fire; whence the 
 works of the voluptuary arts are properly 
 attributed to Vulcan, the God of fire. And 
 hence infinite miseries and calamities have 
 proceeded to the minds, the bodies, and the 
 fortunes of men, together with a late repen- 
 dance; and this not only in each man's partic- 
 ular, but also in kingdoms and states; for 
 wars, and tumults, and tyrannies, have all 
 arisen from this same fountain, or box of Pan- 
 dora. 
 
 It is worth observing, how beautifully and 
 elegantly the fable has drawn two reigning 
 characters in human life, and giving two 
 examples, or tablatures of them, under the 
 persons of Prometheus and Epimetheus. The 
 followers of Epimetheus are improvident, see 
 
326 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 not far before them, and prefer such things as 
 are agreeable for the present; whence they 
 are oppressed with numerous straits, diffi- 
 culties, and calamities, with which they almost 
 continually struggle; but in the meantime 
 gratify their own temper, and, for want of a 
 better knowledge of things, feed their minds 
 with many vain hopes; and as with so many 
 pleasing dreams, delight themselves, and 
 sweeten the miseries of life. 
 
 But the followers of Prometheus are the 
 prudent, wary men, that look into futurity, and 
 cautiously guard against, prevent, and under- 
 mine many calamities and misfortunes. But 
 this watchful, provident temper, is attended 
 with a deprivation of numerous pleasures, and 
 the loss of various delights, while such men 
 debar themselves the use even of innocent 
 things, and what is still worse, rack and torture 
 themselves with cares, fears, and disquiets; 
 being bound fast to the pillar of necessity, and 
 tormented with numberless thoughts (which 
 for their swiftness are well compared to an 
 eagle), that continually wound, tear, and 
 gnaw their liver or mind, unless, perhaps, they 
 find some remission by intervals, or, as it 
 were, at nights; but then new anxieties, 
 dreads, and fears, soon return again, as it 
 were in the morning. And therefore, very 
 few men, of either temper, have secured to 
 themselves the advantages of providence, and 
 kept clear of disquiets, troubles, and misfor- 
 tunes. 
 
 Nor indeed can any man obtain this end 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 327 
 
 without the assistance of Hercules; that is, 
 of such fortitude and constancy of mind as 
 stands prepared against every event, and 
 remains indifferent to every change'; looking 
 forward without being daunted, enjoying the 
 good without disdain, and enduring the bad 
 without impatience. And it must be observed, 
 that even Prometheus had not the power to 
 free himself, but owed his deliverance to 
 another; for no natural in bred force and forti- 
 tude could prove equal to such a task. The 
 power of releasing him came from the utmost 
 confines of the ocean, and from the sun ; that 
 is, from Apollo, or knowledge; and again, 
 from a due consideration of the uncertainty, 
 instability, and fluctuating state of human life, 
 which is aptly represented by sailing the 
 ocean. Accordingly, Virgil has prudently 
 joined these two together, accounting him 
 happy who knows the causes of things, and 
 has conquered all his fears, apprehensions, 
 and superstitions. 
 
 It is added, with great elegance, for support- 
 ing and confirming the human mind, that the 
 great hero who thus delivered him sailed the 
 ocean in a cup or pitcher, to prevent fear or 
 complaint; as if, through the narrowness of 
 our nature, or a too great fragility thereof, 
 we were absolutely incapable of that fortitude 
 and constancy to which Seneca finally alludes, 
 when he says, "It is a noble thing, at once to 
 participate in the frailty of man and the 
 security of a god. " 
 
 We have hitherto, that we might not break 
 
328 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 the connection of things, designedly omitted 
 the last crime of Prometheus — that of attempt- 
 ing the chastity of Minerva — which heinous 
 offense it doubtless was that caused the pun- 
 ishment of having his liver gnawed by the 
 vulture. The meaning seems to be this — that 
 when men are puffed up with arts and knowl- 
 edge, they often try to subdue even the divine 
 wisdom and bring it under the dominion of 
 sense and reason, whence inevitably follows a 
 perpetual and restless rending and tearing of 
 the mind. A sober and humble distinction 
 must, therefore, be made between divine and 
 human things, and between the oracles of sense 
 and faith, unless mankind had rather choose 
 a heretical religion, and a fictitious and 
 romantic philosophy. 
 
 The last particular in the fable is the Games 
 of the Torch, instituted to Prometheus, which 
 again relates to arts and sciences, as well as 
 the invention of fire, for the commemoration 
 and celebration whereof these games were 
 held. And here we have an extremely pru- 
 dent admonition, directing us to expect the 
 perfection of the sciences from succession, and 
 not from the swiftness and abilities of any 
 single person; for he who is fleetest and 
 strongest in the course may perhaps be less 
 fit to keep his torch alight, since there is 
 danger of its going out from too rapid as well 
 as from too slow a motion. But this kind of 
 contest, with the torch, seems to have been 
 long dropped and neglected; the sciences 
 appearing to have flourished principally in 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 329 
 
 their first authors, as Aristotle, Galen, Euclid, 
 Ptolemy, etc. , while their successors have done 
 very little, or scarce made any attempts. But 
 it were highly to be wished that these games 
 might be renewed, to the honor of Prome- 
 theus or human nature, and that they might 
 excite contest, emulation, and laudable en- 
 deavors, and the design meet with such success 
 as not to hang tottering, tremulous, and 
 hazarded, upon the torch of any single person. 
 Mankind, therefore, should be admonished to 
 rouse themselves, and try and exert their own 
 strength and chance, and not place all their 
 dependence upon a few men, whose abilities 
 and capacities, perhaps, are not greater than 
 their own. 
 
 These are the particulars which appear 
 to us shadowed out by this trite and vulgar 
 fable, though without denying that there may 
 be contained in it several intimations that 
 have a surprising correspondence with the 
 Christian mysteries. In particular, the voyage 
 of Hercules, made in a pitcher, to release 
 Prometheus, bears an allusion to the word of 
 God, coming in the frail vessel of the flesh to 
 redeem mankind. But we indulge ourselves 
 no such liberties as these, for fear of using 
 strange fire at the altar of the Lord. 
 
 22 Bacon 
 
330 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 XXVII. — ICARUS AND SCYLLA AND 
 CHARYBDIS, OR THE MIDDLE WAY. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF MEDIOCRITY IN NATURAL AND 
 MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Mediocrity, or the holding a middle course, 
 has been highly extolled in morality, but 
 little in matters of science, though no less 
 useful and proper here; while in politics it is 
 held suspected and ought to be employed with 
 judgment. The ancients described medi- 
 ocrity in manners by the course prescribed 
 to Icarus; and in matters of the understand- 
 ing by the steering between Scylla and Charyb- 
 dis, on account of the great difficulty and 
 danger in passing those straits. 
 
 Icarus, being to fly across the sea, was 
 ordered by his father neither to soar too high 
 nor to fly too low, for, as his wings were 
 fastened together with wax, there was danger 
 of its melting by the sun's heat in too high a 
 flight, and of its becoming less tenacious by 
 the moisture if he kept too near the vapor of 
 the sea. But he with a juvenile confidence, 
 soared aloft, and fell down headlong. 
 
 Explanation. — The fable is vulgar, and 
 easily interpreted ; for the path of virtue lies 
 straight between excess on the one side, and 
 defect on the other. And no wonder that 
 excess should prove the bane of Icarus, exult- 
 ing in juvenile strength and vigor; for excess 
 is the natural vice of youth, as defect is that 
 of old age ; and if a man must perish by either, 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 331 
 
 Icarus chose the better of the two; for all 
 defects are justly esteemed more depraved than 
 excesses. There is some magnanimity in 
 excess, that, like a bird, claims kindred with 
 the heavens; but defect is a reptile, that 
 basely crawls upon the earth. It was excel- 
 lently said by Heraclitus, "A dry light makes 
 the best soul;" for if the soul contracts moist- 
 ure from the earth, it perfectly degenerates 
 and sinks. On the other hand, moderation 
 must be observed, to prevent this fine light 
 from burning, by its too great subtility and 
 dryness. But these observations are common. 
 In matters of the understanding, it requires 
 great skill and a particular facility to steer 
 clear of Scylla and Charybdis. If the ship 
 strikes upon Scylla, it is dashed in pieces 
 against the rocks; if upon Charybdis, it is 
 swallowed outright. This allegory is preg- 
 nant with matter; but we shall only observe 
 the force of it lies here, that a means be ob- 
 served in every doctrine, and science, and in 
 the rules and axioms thereof, between the 
 rocks of distinctions and the whirlpools of 
 universalities; for these two are the bane and 
 shipwreck of fine geniuses and arts. 
 
 XXVIII.— SPHINX, OR SCIENCE. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE SCIENCES. 
 
 They relate that Sphinx was a monster, var- 
 iously formed, having the face and voice of a 
 virgin, the wings of a bird, and the talons of 
 a griffin. She resided on the top of a moun- 
 
332 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 tain, near the city Thebes, and also beset the 
 highways. Her manner was to lie in ambush 
 and seize the travelers, and having them in 
 her power, to propose to them certain dark and 
 perplexed riddles, which it was thought she 
 received from the Muses, and if her wretched 
 captives could not solve and interpret these 
 riddles, she w r ith great cruelty fell upon them, 
 in their hesitation and confusion, and tore them 
 to pieces. This plague,, having reigned a long 
 time, the Thebans at length offered their king- 
 dom to the man who could interpret her riddles, 
 there being no other way to subdue her, 
 CEdipus, a penetrating and prudent man, 
 though lame in his feet, excited by so great a 
 reward, accepted the condition, and with a good 
 assurance of mind, cheerfully presented him- 
 self before the monster, who directly asked 
 him, "What creature that was, which being 
 born four-footed, afterward became two-footed, 
 then three-footed, and lastly four-footed again?" 
 CEdipus, with presence of mind, replied it was 
 man, who, upon his first birth and infant state, 
 crawled upon all fours in endeavoring to walk; 
 but not long after went up-right upon his two 
 natural feet; again, in old age walked three- 
 footed, with a stick; and at last, growing 
 decrepit, lay four-footed confined to his bed; 
 and having by this exact solution obtained the 
 victory, he slew the monster, and, laying the 
 carcass upon an ass, led her away in triumph, 
 and upon this he was, according to the agree- 
 ment, made king of Thebes. \ 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 333 
 
 Explanation." — This is an elegant, instruc- 
 tive fable, and seems invented to represent 
 science, especially as joined with practice. 
 For science may, without absurdity, be called 
 a monster, being strangely gazed at and 
 admired by the ignorant and unskilful. Her 
 figure and form is various, by reason of the 
 vast variety of subjects that science considers; 
 her voice and countenance are represented 
 female, by reason of her gay appearance and 
 volubility of speech; wings are added, because 
 the sciences and their inventions run and fly 
 about in a moment, for knowledge, like light 
 communicated from one torch to another, is 
 presently caught and copiously diffused ; sharp 
 and hooked talons are elegantly attributed to 
 her, because the axioms and arguments of 
 science enter the mind, lay hold of it, fix it 
 down, and keep it from moving or slipping 
 away. This the sacred philosopher observed, 
 when he said, "The words of the wise are like 
 goads or nails driven far in." Again, all 
 science seems placed on high, as it were on the 
 tops of mountains that are hard to climb; for 
 science is justly imagined a sublime and lofty 
 thing, looking down upon ignorance from an 
 eminence, and at the same time taking an 
 extensive view on all sides, as is usual on the 
 tops of mountains. Science is said to beset the 
 highways, because through all the journey and 
 peregrination of human life there is matter and 
 occasion offered of contemplation. 
 
 Sphinx is said to propose various difficult 
 questions and riddles to men, which she received 
 
334 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 from the Muses; and these questions, so long 
 as they remain with the Muses, may very well 
 be unaccompanied with severity, for while 
 there is no other end of contemplation and 
 inquiry but that of knowledge alone, the 
 understanding is not oppressed, or driven to 
 straits and difficulties, but expatiates and 
 ranges at large, and even receives a degree of 
 pleasure from doubt and variety ; but after the 
 Muses have given over their riddles to Sphinx, 
 that is to practice, which urges and impels to 
 action, choice, and determination, then it is 
 that they become torturing, severe, and try- 
 ing, and, unless solved and interpreted, 
 strangely perplex and harass the human mind, 
 rend it every way, and perfectly tear it to 
 pieces. All the riddles of Sphinx, therefore, 
 have two conditions annexed, viz., dilaceration 
 to those who do not solve them, and empire to 
 those that do. For he who understands the 
 thing proposed obtains his end, and every arti- 
 ficer rules over his work. 
 
 Sphinx has no more than two kinds of riddles, 
 one relating to the nature of things, the 
 other to the nature of man; and corres- 
 pondent to these, the prizes of the solution are 
 two kinds of empire - — the empire over nature, 
 and the empire over man. For the true and 
 ultimate end of natural philosophy is dominion 
 over natural things, natural bodies, remedies, 
 machines, and numberless other particulars, 
 though the schools contended with what spon- 
 taneously offers, and swollen with their own 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 335 
 
 discourses, neglect, and in a manner despise, 
 both things and works. 
 
 But the riddle proposed to CEdipus, the 
 solution whereof acquired him the Theban king- 
 dom, regarded the nature of man, for he who 
 has thoroughly looked into and examined 
 human nature, may in a manner command his 
 own fortune, and seems born to acquire 
 dominion and rule. Accordingly, Virgil pro- 
 perly makes the arts of government to be the 
 arts of the Romans. It was, therefore, 
 extremely apposite in Augustus Caesar to use 
 the image of Sphinx in his signet, whether this 
 happened by accident or by design; for he of 
 all men was deeply versed in politics, and 
 through the course of his life very happily 
 solved abundance of new riddles with regard 
 to the nature of man; and unless he had done 
 this with great dexterity and ready address, he 
 would frequently have been involved in immi- 
 nent danger, if not destruction. 
 
 It is with the utmost elegance added in the 
 fable, that when Sphinx was conquered, her 
 carcass was laid upon an ass ; for there is noth- 
 ing so subtile and abstruse, but after being 
 once made plain, intelligible, and common, it 
 may be received by the slowest capacity. 
 
 We must not omit that Sphinx was conquered 
 by a lame man, and impotent in his feet; for 
 men usually make too much haste to the solu- 
 tion of Sphinx's riddles; whence it happens, 
 that she prevailing, their minds are rather 
 racked and torn by disputes, than invested with 
 command by works and effects. 
 
336 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 XXIX.— PROSERPINE, OR SPIRIT. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF THE SPIRIT INCLUDED IN NATURAL 
 
 BODIES. 
 
 They tell us, Pluto having, upon that memor- 
 able division of empire among the gods, 
 received the infernal regions for his share, 
 despaired of winning any one of the goddesses 
 in marriage by an obsequious courtship, and 
 therefore through necessity resolved upon 
 a rape. Having watched his opportunity, he 
 suddenly seized upon Proserpine, a most 
 beautiful virgin, the daughter of Ceres, as she 
 was gathering narcissus flowers in the meads 
 of Sicily, and hurrying her to his chariot, car- 
 ried her with him to the subterraneal regions, 
 where she was treated with the highest rever- 
 ence, and styled the Lady of Dis. But Ceres 
 missing her only daughter, whom she ex- 
 tremely loved, grew pensive and anxious 
 beyond measure, and taking a lighted torch in 
 her hand, wandered the world over in quest of 
 her daughter — but all to no purpose, till, sus- 
 pecting she might be carried to the infernal 
 regions, she, with great lamentation and abun- 
 dance of tears, importuned Jupiter to restore 
 her; and with much ado prevailed so far as to 
 recover and bring her away, if she had tasted 
 nothing there. This proved a hard condition 
 upon the mother, for Proserpine was found to 
 have eaten three kernels of a pomegranate. 
 Ceres, however, desisted not, but fell to her 
 entreaties and lamentations afresh, insomuch 
 that at last it was indulged her that Proserpine 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 337 
 
 should divide the year between her husband 
 and her mother, and live six months with the 
 one and as many with the other. After this, 
 Theseus and Perithous, with uncommon audac- 
 ity, attempted to force Proserpine away from 
 Pluto's bed, but happening to grow tired in 
 their journey, and resting themselves upon a 
 stone in the realms below, they could never 
 rise from it again, but remain sitting there 
 forever. Proserpine, therefore, still continued 
 queen of the lower regions, in honor of whom 
 there was also added this grand privilege, that 
 though it had never been permitted any one to 
 return after having once descended thither, a 
 particular exception was made, that he who 
 brought a golden bough as a present to Pros- 
 erpine, might on that condition descend and 
 return. This was an only bough that grew in 
 a large dark grove, not from a tree of its own, 
 but like the mistletoe, from another, and when 
 plucked away a fresh one always shot out in 
 its stead. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable seems to regard 
 natural philosophy, and searches deep into that 
 rich and fruitful virtue and supply in subter- 
 raneous bodies, from whence all the things 
 upon the earth's surface spring, and into which 
 they again relapse and return. By Proserpine, 
 the ancients denoted that ethereal spirit shut 
 up and detained within the earth, here repre- 
 sented by Pluto — the spirit being separated 
 from the superior globe, according to the ex- 
 pression of the poet. This spirit is conceived as 
 
 22 Bacon 
 
338 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 ravished, or snatched up by the earth, because 
 it can no way be detained, when it has time and 
 opportunity to fly off, but is only wrought to- 
 gether and fixed by sudden intermixture an'd 
 comminution, in the same manner as if one 
 should endeavor to mix air with water, which 
 cannot otherwise be done than by a quick and 
 rapid agitation, that joins them together in 
 frontwhiletheairis thus caught up by the water. 
 And it is elegantly added, that Proserpine was 
 ravished while she gathered narcissus flowers, 
 which have their name from numbness or 
 stupefaction ; for the spirit we speak of is in 
 the fittest disposition to be embraced by terres- 
 trial matter when it begins to coagulate, or 
 grow torpid as it were. 
 
 It is an honor justly attributed to Proserpine, 
 and not to any other wife of the gods, that of 
 being the lady or mistress of her husband, 
 because the spirit performs all its operations in 
 the subterraneal regions, while Pluto, or the 
 earth, remains stupid, or as it were ignorant of 
 them. 
 
 The ether, or the efficacy of the heavenly 
 bodies, denoted by Ceres, endeavors with infin- 
 ite diligence to force out this spirit, and restore 
 it to its pristine state. And by the torch in the 
 hand of Ceres, or the ether, is doubtless meant 
 the sun, which disperses light over the whole 
 globe of the earth, and if the thing were pos- 
 sible, must have the greatest share in recover- 
 ing Proserpine, or reinstating the subterraneal 
 spirit. Yet Proserpine still continues and 
 dwells below, after the manner excellently 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 339 
 
 described in the condition between Jupiter and 
 Ceres. For first, it is certain that there are 
 two ways of detaining the spirit, in solid and 
 terrestrial matter— the one by condensation or 
 obstruction, which is mere violence and impris- 
 onment; the other by administering a proper 
 aliment, which is spontaneous and free. For 
 after the included spirit begins to feed and 
 nourish itself, it is not in a hurry to fly off, 
 but remains as it were fixed in its own earth. 
 And this is the moral of Proserpine's tasting 
 the pomegranate; and were it not for this, she 
 must long ago have been carried up by Ceres, 
 who with her torch wandered the world over, 
 and so the earth have been left without its 
 spirit. For though the spirit in metals and 
 minerals may perhaps be, after a particular 
 manner, wrought in by the solidity of the mass, 
 yet the spirit of vegetables and animals has 
 open passages to escape at, unless it be will- 
 ingly detained, in the way of sipping and tast- 
 ing them. 
 
 The second article of agreement, that of Pros- 
 erpine's remaining six months with her mother 
 and six with her husband, is an elegant descrip- 
 tion of the division of the year; for the spirit 
 diffused through the earth lives above-ground 
 in the vegetable world during the summer 
 months, but in the winter returns under-ground 
 again. 
 
 The attempt of Theseus and Perithous to 
 bring Proserpine away denotes that the more 
 subtile spirits, which descend in many bodies 
 to the earth, may frequently be unable to drink 
 
340 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 in, unite with themselves, and carry off the 
 subterraneous spirit, but on the contrary be 
 coagulated by it, and rise no more, so as to 
 increase the inhabitants and add to the domin- 
 ion of Proserpine. 
 
 The alchemists will be apt to fall in with our 
 interpretation of the golden bough, whether 
 we will or no, because they promise golden 
 mountains, and the restoration of natural 
 bodies from their stone, as from the gates of 
 Pluto; but we are well assured that their the- 
 ory has no just foundation, and suspect they 
 have no very encouraging or practical proofs 
 of its soundness. Leaving, therefore, their 
 conceits to themselves, we shall freely declare 
 our own sentiments upon this last part of the 
 fable. We are certain from numerous figures 
 and expressions of the ancients, that they 
 judge the conservation, and in some degree 
 the renovation, of natural bodies to be no des- 
 perate or impossible thing, but rather abstruse 
 and out of the common road than wholly im- 
 practicable. And this seems to be their opin- 
 ion in the present case, as they have placed this 
 bough among an infinite number of shrubs, in 
 a spacious and thick wood. They supposed it 
 of gold, because gold is the emblem of dura- 
 tion. They feigned it adventitious, not native, 
 because such an effect is to be expected from 
 art, and not from any medicine or any simple 
 or mere natural way of working. 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 341 
 
 XXX. -METIS, OR COUNSEL. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF PRINCES AND THEIR COUNCIL. 
 
 The ancient poets relate that Jupiter took 
 Metis to wife, whose name plainly denotes 
 counsel, and that he, perceiving she was preg- 
 nant by him, would by no means wait the time 
 of her delivery, but directly devoured her; 
 whence himself also became pregnant, and 
 was delivered in a wonderful manner ; for he 
 from his head or brain brought forth Pallas 
 armed. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable, which in its lit- 
 eral sense appears monstrously absurd, seems 
 to contain a state secret, and shows with what 
 art kings usually carry themselves toward their 
 council, in order to preserve their own author- 
 ity and majesty not only inviolate, but so as to 
 have it magnified and heightened among the 
 people. For kings commonly link themselves 
 as it were in a nuptial bond to their council, 
 and deliberate and communicate with them 
 after a prudent and laudable custom upon mat- 
 ters of the greatest importance, and at the 
 same time justly conceiving this no diminution 
 of their majesty; but when the matter once 
 ripens to a decree or order, which is a kind of 
 birth, the king then suffers the council to go 
 on no further, lest the act should seem to de- 
 pend upon their pleasure. Now, therefore, 
 the king usually assumes to himself whatever 
 was wrought, elaborated, or formed, as it 
 were, in the womb of the council (unless it be 
 
342 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 a matter of an invidious nature, which he is 
 sure to put from him), so that the decree and 
 the execution shall seem to flow from himself. 
 And as this decree or execution proceeds with 
 prudence and power, so as to imply necessity, 
 it is elegantly wrapped up under the figure of 
 Pallas armed. 
 
 Nor are kings content to have this seem the 
 effect of their own authority, free will, and 
 uncontrollable choice unless they also take the 
 whole honor to themselves, and make the peo- 
 ple imagine that all good and wholesome 
 decrees proceed entirely from their own head, 
 that is, their own sole prudence and judgment. 
 
 XXXI— THE SIRENS, OR PLEASURES. 
 
 EXPLAINED OF MEN'S PASSION FOR PLEASURES. 
 
 Introduction. — The fable of the Sirens is, 
 in a vulgar sense, justly enough explained of 
 the pernicious incentives to pleasure, but the 
 ancient mythology seems to us like a vintage 
 ill-pressed and trod, for though something has 
 been drawn from it, yet all the more excellent 
 parts remain behind in the grapes that are 
 untouched. 
 
 Fable. — The sirens are said to be the 
 daughters of Achelous and Terpsichore, one 
 of the Muses. In their early days they had 
 wings, but lost them upon being conquered by 
 the Muses, with whom they rashly contended: 
 and with the feathers of these wings the 
 Muses made themselves crowns, so that from 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 343 
 
 this time the Muses wore wings on their heads, 
 excepting only the mother to the Sirens. 
 
 These Sirens resided in certain pleasant 
 islands, and when, from their watch-tower, 
 they saw any ship approaching, they first 
 detained the sailors by their music, then, 
 enticing them to shore, destroyed them. 
 
 Their singing was not of one and the same 
 kind, but they adapted their tunes exactly to 
 the nature of each person, in order to captivate 
 and secure him. And so destructive had 
 they been, that these islands of the Sirens 
 appeared, to a very great distance, white with 
 the bones of their unburied captives. 
 
 Two different remedies were invented to 
 protect persons against them, the one by 
 Ulysses, the other by Orpheus. Ulysses com- 
 manded his associates to stop their ears close 
 with wax; and he, determining to make the 
 trial, and yet avoid the danger, ordered him- 
 self to be tied fast to a mast of the ship, giving 
 strict charge not to be unbound, even though 
 himself should entreat it; but Orpheus, with- 
 out any binding at all, escaped the danger, by 
 loudly chanting to his harp the praises of the 
 gods, whereby he drowned the voices of the 
 Sirens. 
 
 Explanation. — This fable is of the moral 
 kind, and appears no less elegant than easy to 
 interpret. For pleasures proceed from plenty 
 and affluence, attended with activity or exulta- 
 tion of the mind. Anciently their first incen- 
 tives were quick, and seized upon the men as 
 
344 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 if they had been winged, but learning and 
 philosophy afterward prevailing, had at least 
 the power to lay the mind under some re- 
 straint, and make it consider the issue of 
 things, and thus deprived pleasures of their 
 wings. 
 
 This conquest redounded greatly to the 
 honor and ornaments of the Muses; for after 
 it appeared, by the example of a few, that 
 philosophy could introduce a contempt of 
 pleasures, it immediately seemed to be a sub- 
 lime thing that could raise and elevate the 
 soul, fixed in a manner down to the earth, and 
 thus render men's thoughts, which reside in 
 the head, winged as it were, or sublime. 
 
 Only the mother of the Sirens was not thus 
 plumed on the head, which doubtless denotes 
 superficial learning, invented and used for 
 delight and levity; an eminent example 
 whereof we have in Petronius, who, after re- 
 ceiving sentence of death, still continued his 
 gay frothy humor, and, as Tacitus observes, 
 used his learning to solace or divert himself, 
 and instead of such discourses as give firmness 
 and constancy of mind, read nothing but loose 
 poems and verses. Such learning as this seems 
 to pluck the crowns again from the Muses' 
 heads, and restore them to the Sirens. 
 
 The Sirens are said to inhabit certain islands, 
 because pleasures generally seek retirement, 
 and often shun society. And for their songs, 
 with the manifold artifice and destructiveness 
 thereof, this is too obvious and common to 
 need explanation. But that particular of the 
 
WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 345 
 
 bones stretching like white cliffs along the 
 shores and appearing afar off contains a more 
 subtile allegory, and denotes that the examples 
 of others' calamity and misfortunes, though 
 ever so manifest and apparent, have yet but 
 little force to deter the corrupt nature of man 
 from pleasures. 
 
 The allegory of the remedies against the 
 Sirens is not difficult, but very wise and noble: 
 it proposes, in effect, three remedies, as well 
 against subtile as violent mischiefs, two drawn 
 from philosophy and one from religion. 
 
 The first means of escaping is to resist the 
 earliest temptations in the beginning, and dil- 
 igently avoid and cut off all occasions that may 
 solicit or sway the mind ; and this is well rep- 
 resented by shutting up the ears, a kind of rem- 
 edy to be necessarily used with mean and vul- 
 gar minds, such as the retinue of Ulysses. 
 
 But nobler spirits may converse, even in the 
 midst of pleasures, if the mind be well guarded 
 with constancy and resolution. And thus some 
 delight to make a severe trial of their own vir- 
 tue, and thoroughly acquaint themselves with 
 the folly and madness of pleasures, without 
 complying or being wholly given up to them ; 
 which is what Solomon professes of himself 
 when he closes the account of all the numerous 
 pleasures he gave a loose to with this expres- 
 sion, "But wisdom still continued with me." 
 Such heroes in virtue may, therefore, remain 
 unmoved by the greatest incentives to pleas- 
 ure, and stop themselves on the very precipice 
 of danger; if, according to the example of 
 
346 WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. 
 
 Ulysses, they turn a deaf ear to pernicious 
 counsel, and the flatteries of their friends and 
 companions, which have the greatest power to 
 shake and unsettle the mind. 
 
 But the most excellent remedy, in every 
 temptation, is that of Orpheus, who, by loudly 
 chanting and resounding the praises of the 
 gods, confounded the voices and kept himself 
 from hearing the music of the Sirens; for 
 divine contemplations exceed the pleasures of 
 sense, not only in power, but also in sweetness. 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 OMITTING THOSE KNOWN TO BE SPURIOUS. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, the morrow of her corona- 
 tion (it being the custom to release prisoners at 
 the inauguration of a prince), went to the 
 chapel; and in the great chamber, one of her 
 courtiers, who was well known to her, either 
 out of his motion, or by the instigation of a 
 wiser man, presented her with a petition; and 
 before a great number of courtiers, besought 
 her with a loud voice, that now this good time, 
 there might be four or five principal prisoners 
 more released; those were the four evangelists 
 and the apostle St. Paul, who had been long 
 shut up in an unknown tongue, as it were in 
 prison; so as they could not converse with the 
 common people. The queen answered very 
 gravely, that it was best first to inquire of 
 them, whether they would be released or no. 
 
 Queen Ann Bullen, at the time when she 
 was led to be beheaded in the Tower, called 
 one of the king's privy chamber to her, and 
 said unto him, " Commend me to the king, and 
 tell him, that he hath ever been constant in his 
 course of advancing me ; from a private gen- 
 tlewoman he made me a marchioness ; and from 
 a marchioness a queen; and now, that he hath 
 
 347 
 
348 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 left no higher degree of earthly honor, he in- 
 tends to crown my innocency with the glory 
 of martyrdom. ' ' 
 
 A great officer in France was in danger to 
 have lost his place ; but his wife by her suit and 
 means-making, made his peace; whereupon a 
 pleasant fellow said, that he had been crushed, 
 but that he saved himself upon his horns. 
 
 When the archduke did raise his siege from 
 the Grave, the then secretary came to Queen 
 Elizabeth. The queen (having first intelli- 
 gence thereof) said to the secretary, "Wote you 
 that the archduke is risen from the Grave?" 
 He answered, "What, without the trumpet of 
 the archangel?" The queen replied, "Yes; 
 without sound of trumpet." 
 
 The council did make remonstrance unto 
 Queen Elizabeth of the continual conspiracies 
 against her life ; and, namely, that a man was 
 lately taken, who stood ready in a very dan- 
 gerous and suspicious manner to do the deed ; 
 and they showed her the weapon wherewith 
 he thought to have acted it. And, therefore, 
 they advised her, that she should go less 
 abroad to take the air, weakly attended, as 
 she used. But the queen answered, that she 
 had rather be dead than put in custody. 
 
 Henry the Fourth of France his queen was 
 young with child; Count Soissons, that had his 
 expectation upon the crown, when it was twice 
 or thrice thought that the queen was with child 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 349 
 
 before, said to some of his friends, that it was 
 but with a pillow. This had some ways come 
 to the king's ear; who kept it till such time as 
 the queen waxed great: then he called the 
 Count of Soissons to him, and said, laying his 
 hand upon his queen's belly, "Come, cousin, 
 is this a pillow?" The Count of Soissons 
 answered, "Yes, sire, it is a pillow for all 
 France to sleep upon. " 
 
 Queen Elizabeth was wont to say, upon the 
 commission of sales, that the commissioners 
 used her like strawberry wives, that layed two 
 or three great strawberries at the mouth of their 
 pot, and all the rest were little ones; so they 
 made her two or three good prizes of the first 
 particulars, but fell straightways. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth used to say of her instruc- 
 tions to great officers, that they were like to 
 garments, strait at the first putting on, but did 
 by and by wear easy enough. 
 
 A great officer at court, when my lord of 
 Essex was first in trouble ; and that he, and 
 those that dealt for him, would talk much of 
 my lord's friends, and of his enemies, answered 
 to one of them: "I will tell you, I know but 
 one friend and one enemy my lord hath; and 
 that one friend is the queen, and that one enemy 
 is himself. " 
 
 The book of deposing King Richard the 
 Second, and the coming in of Henry the Fourth, 
 
350 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 supposed to be written by Dr. Hayward, who 
 was committed to the Tower for it, had much 
 incensed Queen Elizabeth, and she asked Mr. 
 Bacon, being then of her counsel learned, 
 whether there were any treason contained in it? 
 Who tending to do him a pleasure, and to take 
 off the queen's bitterness with a merry conceit, 
 answered, "No, madam, for treason I cannot 
 deliver an opinion that there is any, but very 
 much felony." The queen apprehending it 
 gladly, asked, how; and wherein? Mr. Bacon 
 answered, "Because he had stolen many of his 
 sentences and conceits out of Cornelius Taci- 
 tus." 
 
 Queen Elizabeth was dilatory enough in 
 suits, of her own nature; and the lord treas- 
 urer Burleigh being a wise man, and willing 
 therein to feed her humor, would say to her, 
 "Madam, you do well to let suitors stay; for I 
 shall tell you, bis dat, qui cito dat; if you grant 
 them speedily, they will come again the 
 sooner." 
 
 Sir Nicholas Bacon, who was keeper of the 
 great seal of England, when Queen Elizabeth, 
 in her progress, came to his house at Gorham- 
 bury, and said to him, "My lord, what a little 
 house have you gotten!" answered her, 
 "Madam, my house is well; but it is you that 
 have made me too great for my house. " 
 
 The lord-keeper Sir Nicholas Bacon was 
 asked his opinion by Queen Elizabeth, of one 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 351 
 
 of these monopoly licenses. And he answered, 
 4 'Madam, will you have me speak the truth? 
 Licentia omnes deteriores sumus?" — we are 
 all the worse for licenses. 
 
 My lord of Essex at the succor of Rouen, 
 made twenty-four knights, which at that time 
 was a great number. Divers of those gentle- 
 men were of weak and small means; which, 
 when Queen Elizabeth heard, she said, "My 
 lord might have done well to have built his 
 almshouse, before he made his knights. " 
 
 The deputies of the reformed religion, after 
 the massacre which was at Paris upon St. Bar- 
 tholomew's day, treated with the king and 
 queen-mother, and some other of the council, 
 for a peace. Both sides were agreed upon the 
 articles. The question was, upon the security 
 for the performance. After some particulars 
 propounded and rejected, the queen-mother 
 said, "Why is not the word of a king sufficient 
 security?' ' One of the deputies answered, 
 "No, by St. Bartholomew, madam." 
 
 When peace was renewed with the French 
 in England divers of the great counselors 
 were presented from the French with jewels; 
 the Lord Henry Howard, being then Earl of 
 Nottingham and a counselor, was omitted. 
 Whereupon the king said to him, "My lord, 
 how happens it that you have not a jewel as 
 well as the rest?" My lord answered, accord- 
 ing to the fable in yEsop, "Non sum gallus, 
 itaque non reperi gemmam," 
 
352 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 There was a minister deprived for noncon- 
 formity, who said to some of his friends, that 
 if they deprived him, it should cost a hundred 
 men's lives. The party understood it, as being 
 a turbulent fellow, he would have moved sedi- 
 tion, and complained of him ; whereupon being 
 convented and opposed upon that speech, he 
 said his meaning was, that if he lost his bene- 
 fice, he would practice physic, and then he 
 thought he should kill a hundred men in time. 
 
 Secretary Bourn's son kept a gentleman's 
 wife in Shropshire, who lived from her hus- 
 band with him ; when he was weary of her, he 
 caused her husband to be dealt with to take 
 her home, and offered him five hundred pounds 
 for reparation ; the gentleman went to Sir H. 
 Sidney, to take his advice upon this offer, tell- 
 ing him that his wife promised now a new life; 
 and to tell him truth, five hundred pounds 
 would come well with him. "By my truth," 
 said Sir Henry Sidney, "take her home and 
 take the money: then whereas other cuckolds 
 wear their horns plain, vou may wear yours 
 gilt." 
 
 When Rabelais, the great jester of France, 
 lay on his death-bed, and they gave him the 
 extreme unction, a familiar friend of his came 
 to him afterward, and asked him how he did. 
 Rabelais answered, "Even going my journey, 
 they have greased my boots already." 
 
 Thales, as he looked upon the stars, fell into 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 353 
 
 the water ; whereupon it was after said, that if 
 he had looked into the water, he might have 
 seen the stars; but looking- up to the stars he 
 could not see the water. 
 
 Master Mason, of Trinity College, sent his 
 pupil to another of the fellows, to borrow a 
 book of him, who told him, t4 I am loth 
 to lend my books out of my chamber; but 
 if it pleases thy tutor to come and read it 
 here, he shall as long as he will." It was 
 winter, and some days after the same fellow 
 sent to Mr. Mason to borrow his bellows ; but 
 Mr. Mason said, "I am loth to lend my bel- 
 lows out of my chamber; but if thy tutor 
 would come and use it here, he shall as long 
 as he wiH." 
 
 In Flanders, by accident, a Flemish tiler fell 
 from the top of a house upon a Spaniard, and 
 killed him, though he escaped himself; the 
 next of the blood prosecuted his death with 
 great violence, and when he was offered pecu- 
 niary recompense, nothing would serve him 
 but lex talionis; whereupon the judge said to 
 him, that if he did urge that sentence, it must 
 be, that he should go up to the top of the house, 
 and then fall down upon the tiler. 
 
 There was a young man in Rome, that was 
 very like Augustus Caesar; Augustus took 
 knowledge of him, and sent for the man, and 
 and asked him, "was your mother never at 
 Rome?" He answered, "No, sir, but my 
 father was." 
 
 23 Bacon 
 
354 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Agesilaus, when one told him there was one 
 did excellently counterfeit a nightingale, and 
 would have had him heard him, said, "Why, 
 I have heard the nightingale herself." 
 
 There was a captain sent to an exploit by 
 his general with forces that were not likely to 
 achieve the enterprise; the captain said to 
 him, "Sir, appoint but half so many. " 
 "Why?" saith the general. The captain an- 
 swered, "Because it is better that few die than 
 more.'* 
 
 There was a harbinger who had lodged a 
 gentleman in a very ill room, who expostulated 
 with him somewhat rudely; but the harbinger 
 carelessly said, "You will reap pleasure from 
 it when you are out of it. M 
 
 There is a Spanish adage, "Love without 
 end hath no end;" meaning, that if it were 
 begun not upon particular ends it would last. 
 
 A company of scholars going together to 
 catch conies, carried one scholar with them, 
 which had not much more wit than he was 
 born with ; and to him they gave in charge that 
 if he saw any, he should be silent, for fear of 
 scaring them. But he no sooner espied a com- 
 pany of rabbits before the rest, but he cried 
 aloud, "Eccemulticuniculi," which in English 
 signifies, behold many conies; which he had 
 no sooner said, but the conies ran to their bur- 
 rows; and he being checked by them for it an- 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 355 
 
 swered, "Who the devil would have thought 
 that the rabbits understood Latin?" 
 
 Solon compared the people unto the sea, and 
 orators and counselors to the winds ; for that 
 the sea would be calm and quiet, if the winds 
 did not trouble it. 
 
 A man being very jealous of his wife, inso- 
 much that which way soever she went, he 
 would be prying at her heels; and she being 
 so grieved thereat, in plain terms told him, that 
 if he did not for the future leave off his pro- 
 ceedings in that nature, she would graft such 
 a pair of horns upon his head, that should hin- 
 der him from coming out of any door in the 
 house. 
 
 A tinker passing Cheapside with his usual 
 tone, "Have you any work for a tinker?" an 
 apprentice standing at a door opposite to a pil- 
 lor there set up, called the tinker, with an in- 
 tent to put a jest upon him, and told him, that 
 he should do very well if he would stop those 
 two holes in the pillory; to which the tinker 
 answered, that if he would put his head and 
 ears a while in that pillory, he would bestow 
 both brass and nails upon him to hold him in, 
 and give him his labor into the bargain. 
 
 Whitehead, a grave divine, was much 
 esteemed by Queen Elizabeth, but not pre- 
 ferred, because he was against the government 
 of bishops: he was of a blunt stoical nature ; 
 
356 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 he came one day to the queen, and the queen 
 happened to say to. him, "I like thee the bet- 
 ter, Whitehead, because thou livest unmar- 
 ried!" He answered, "In troth, madam, I 
 like you the worse for the same cause." 
 
 Doctor Laud said, that some hypocrites, and 
 seeming mortified men, that held down their 
 heads like bulrushes, were like the little 
 images that they place in the very bowing of 
 the vaults of churches, that look as if they held 
 up the church, but are but puppets. 
 
 There was a lady of the west country, that 
 gave great entertainment at her house to most 
 of the gallant gentlemen thereabouts, and 
 among others, Sir Walter Raleigh was one. 
 This lady, though otherwise a stately dame, 
 was a notable good housewife; and in the 
 morning betimes, she called to one of her 
 maids, that looked to the swine, and asked, 
 "Are the pigs served?" Sir Walter Raleigh's 
 chamber was fast by the lady's, so as he heard 
 her; a little before dinner, the lady came down 
 in great state into the great chamber, which 
 was full of gentlemen: and as soon as Sir 
 W alter set eye upon her, "Madam," said he, 
 "are the pigs served?" The lady answered, 
 "You know best whether you have had your 
 breakfast." 
 
 There were fishermen drawing the river at 
 Chelsea; Mr. Bacon came thither by chance in 
 the afternoon, and offered to buy their draught ; 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 357 
 
 they were willing. He asked them what they 
 would take? They asked thirty shillings. 
 Mr. Bacon offered them ten. They refused it. 
 44 Why, then," saith Mr. Bacon, "I will be only 
 a looker on." They drew, and caught nothing. 
 Saith Mr. Bacon, 44 Are not you mad fellows 
 now, that might have had an angel in your 
 purse, to have made merry withal, and to have 
 warmed you thoroughly, and now you must go 
 home with nothing?" "Aye, but," saith the 
 fisherman, "we had hope then to make a bet- 
 ter gain of it." Saith Mr. Bacon, "Well, my 
 master, then I'll tell you, hope is a good break- 
 fast, but it is a bad supper." 
 
 Mr. Bacon, after he had been vehement in 
 Parliament against depopulation and inclosures; 
 and that soon after the queen told him, that she 
 had referred the hearing of Mr. Mill's cause to 
 certain counselors and judges; and asked him 
 how he liked of it? answered, 44 0h, Madam! my 
 mind is known; I am against all inclosures, 
 and especially against inclosed justice." 
 
 When Sir Nicholas Bacon, the lord-keeper, 
 lived, every room in Gorhambury was served 
 with a pipe of water from the ponds, distant 
 about a mile off. In the lifetime of Mr. An- 
 thony Bacon, the water ceased. After whose 
 death, his lordship coming to the inheritance, 
 could not recover the water without infinite 
 charge; when he was lord chancelor he built 
 Verulam House, close by the pond-yard, for 
 a place of privacy, when he was called upon to 
 
358 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 dispatch any urgent business. And being* 
 asked why he built that house there, his lord- 
 ship answered that since he could not carry 
 the water to his house he would carry his 
 house to the water. 
 
 Zelim was the first of the Ottomans that did 
 shave his beard, whereas his predecessors 
 wore it long. One of his bashaws asked him 
 why he altered the custom of his predeces- 
 sors? He answered: M Because you bashaws 
 may not lead me by the beard as you did 
 then." 
 
 Charles, king of Sweden, a great enemy of 
 the Jesuits, when he took any of their col- 
 leges, he would hang the old Jesuits and put 
 the young to his mines, saying, that since they 
 wrought so hard above ground he would try 
 how they could work under ground. 
 
 In chancery, at one time when the counsel of 
 the parties set forth the boundaries of the land 
 in question, by the plot ; and the counsel of one 
 part said, "We lie on this side, my lord;" and 
 the counsel of the other part said, "And we 
 lie on this side:" the lord chancelor Hatton 
 stood up and said, "If you lie on both sides, 
 whom will you have me to believe?" 
 
 Sir Thomas More had only daughters, at the 
 first, and his wife did ever pray for a boy. At 
 last she had a boy, which, being come to man's 
 estate, proved but simple. Sir Thomas said to 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 359 
 
 his wife, "Thou prayedst so long for a boy 
 that he will be a boy as long as he lives." 
 
 Sir Thomas More, on the day that he was 
 beheaded, had a barber sent to him, because 
 his hair was long; which was thought would 
 make him more commiserated with the people. 
 The barber came to him, and asked him 
 whether he would be pleased to be trimmed? 
 "In good faith, honest fellow," saith Sir 
 Thomas, "the king and I have a suit for my 
 head: and till the title be cleared, I will do 
 no cost upon it." 
 
 Mr. Bettenham said that virtuous men were 
 like some herbs and spices that give not out 
 their sweet smell till they be broken or 
 crushed. 
 
 There was a painter become a physician, 
 whereupon one said to him: "You have done 
 well; for before, the faults of your work were 
 seen, but now they are unseen." 
 
 There was a gentleman that came to the tilt 
 all in orange-tawny, and ran very ill. The 
 next day he came again all in green, and ran 
 worse. There was one of the lookers-on 
 asked another, "What is the reason that this 
 gentleman changeth his colors?" The other 
 answered, "Sure, because it may be reported 
 that the gentleman in the green ran worse 
 than the gentleman in the orange-tawny." 
 
360 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Sir Thomas More had sent him by a suitor 
 in chancery two silver flagons. When they 
 were presented by the gentleman's servant, 
 he said to one of his men, "Have him to the 
 cellar, and let him have of my best wine:" 
 and turning to the servant, said, "Tell thy 
 master, if he like it, let him not spare it. " 
 
 Michael Angelo, the famous painter, paint- 
 ing in the pope's chapel the portraiture of hell 
 and damned souls, made one of the damned 
 souls so like a cardinal that was his enemy, as 
 everybody at first sight knew it. Whereupon 
 the cardinal complained to Pope Clement, 
 humbly praying it might be defaced. The 
 pope said to him, "Why, you know very well 
 I have power to deliver a soul out of purga- 
 tory, but not out of hell." 
 
 Sir Nicholas Bacon, when a certain nimble- 
 witted counselor at the bar, who was forward 
 to speak, did interrupt him often, said unto 
 him, "There's a great difference betwixt you 
 and me: a pain to me to speak, and a pain to 
 you to hold your peace." 
 
 The same Sir Nicholas Bacon, upon bills 
 exhibited to discover where lands lay, upon 
 proof that they had a certain quantity of land, 
 but could not set it forth, was wont to say, 
 "And if you cannot find your land in the 
 country, how will you have me find it in chan- 
 cery?" 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 361 
 
 There was a king of Hungary took a bishop 
 in battle, and kept him prisoner; whereupon 
 the pope writ a monitory to him, for that he 
 had broken the privilege of holy church, and 
 taken his son. The king sent an embassage to 
 him, and sent withal the armor wherein the 
 bishop was taken, and this only in writing, 
 "Vide num haec sit vestis filii tui" — Know 
 now whether this be thy son's coat. 
 
 Sir Amyas Pawlet, when he saw too much 
 haste made in any matter, was wont to say, 
 44 Stay a while, that we may make an end the 
 sooner. ' ' 
 
 A master of the request to Queen Elizabeth 
 had divers times moved for an audience, and 
 been put off. At last he came to the queen 
 in a progress, and had on a new pair of boots. 
 The queen, who loved not the smell of new 
 leather, said to him, "Fie, sloven, thy new 
 boots stink." <4 Madam," said he, 44 it is not 
 my new boots that stink, but it is the stale 
 bills that I have kept so long." 
 
 Queen Isabella of Spain used to say, whoso- 
 ever hath a good presence and a good fashion, 
 carries continual letters of recommendation. 
 
 It was said of Augustus, and afterward the 
 like was said of Septimus Severus, both which 
 did infinite mischief in their beginnings, and 
 infinite good toward their ends, that they 
 should either have never been born or never 
 died. 
 
 24 Bacon 
 
362 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Constantine the Great, in a kind of envy, 
 himself being a great builder, as Trajan like- 
 wise was, would call Trajan parietaria — wall- 
 flower, because his name was upon so many 
 walls. 
 
 Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester, in a 
 famine, sold all the rich vessels and orna- 
 ments of the church to relieve the poor with 
 bread; and said: " There was no reason that 
 the dead temples of God 'should be sumptu- 
 ously furnished, and the living temples suffer 
 penury." 
 
 After a great fight there came to the camp 
 of Gonsalvo, the great captain, a gentleman 
 proudly horsed and armed ; Diego de Mendoza, 
 asked the great captain, "Who's this?" Who 
 answered, 4t It is St. Ermin, who never appears 
 but after a storm." 
 
 There was one that died greatly in debt; 
 when it was reported in some company, where 
 divers of his creditors casually were, that he 
 was dead; one began to say, "Well, if he be 
 gone, then he hath carried five hundred ducats 
 of mine with him into the other world," and 
 another said, "And two hundred of mine;" 
 and the third spake of great sums of his. 
 Whereupon, one that was among them, said, 
 "I perceive now, that though a man cannot 
 carry any of his own with him into the next 
 world, yet he may carry away that which 
 is another man's." 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 363 
 
 Bresquet, jester to Francis the First of 
 France, did keep a calendar of fools, where- 
 with he did use to make the king sport; telling 
 him ever the reason why he put any one into 
 his calendar. When Charles the Fifth, em- 
 peror, upon confidence of the noble nature of 
 Francis, passed through France, for the ap- 
 peasing of the rebellion of Gaunt, Bresquet 
 put him into his calendar. The king asked 
 him the cause. He answered, "Because you 
 have suffered at the hands of Charles the 
 greatest bitterness that ever prince did from 
 another, nevertheless he would trust his per- 
 son into your hands. M "Why, Bresquet,' ' said 
 the king, "what wilt thou say, if thou seest 
 him pass back in as great safety, as if he 
 marched through the midst of Spain?" Saith 
 Bresquet, "Why then I will put him out, and 
 put in you." 
 
 When my lord president of the council came 
 first to be lord treasurer, he complained to my 
 lord chancelor of the troublesomeness of the 
 place, for that the exchequer was so empty. 
 The lord chancelor answered, "My lord, be of 
 good cheer ; for now you shall see the bottom 
 of your business at the first." 
 
 Rabelais tells a tale of one that was very 
 fortunate in compounding differences. His 
 son undertook the said course, but could never 
 compound any. Whereupon he came to his 
 father, and asked him, what art he had to 
 reconcile differences? He answered, he had 
 
364 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 no other but this: to watch when the two 
 parties were much wearied and their hearts 
 were too great to seek reconcilement at one 
 another's hand; then to be a means between 
 them, and upon no other terms. After which 
 the son went home, and prospered in the same 
 undertakings. 
 
 Alonso Cartilio w T as informed by his steward 
 of the greatness of his expense, being such as 
 he could not hold out therewith. The bishop 
 asked him, wherein it chiefly arose? His 
 steward told him, in the multitude of his 
 servants. The bishop bade him to make him 
 a note of those that were necessary, and those 
 that might be spared. Which he did. And 
 the bishop taking occasion to read it before 
 most of his servants, said to his steward, 
 44 Well, let these remain, because I have need 
 of them ; and these others also, because they 
 have need of me. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Bettenham, reader of Gray's-Inn, used 
 to say, that riches were like muck; when it lay 
 upon a heap, it gave but a stench, and ill-odor; 
 but when it was spread over the ground, then 
 it was cause of much fruit. 
 
 Galba succeeded Nero, and his age being 
 despised, there was much license and con- 
 fusion in Rome during his empire ; whereupon 
 a senator said in full senate, it were better to 
 live where nothing is lawful, than where all 
 things are lawful. 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 365 
 
 Chilon said, that kings' friends and favorites 
 were like casting counters; that sometimes 
 stood for one, sometimes for ten, sometimes 
 for a hundred. 
 
 Diogenes begging, as divers philosophers 
 then used, did beg more of a prodigal man than 
 of the rest which were present. Whereupon 
 one said to him, "See your baseness, that 
 when you find a liberal mind, you will take 
 most of him. " "No, " said Diogenes, "but I 
 mean to beg of the rest again. " 
 
 Themistocles, when an ambassador from a 
 mean estate did speak great matters, said to 
 him, "Friend, thv words would require a 
 city." 
 
 Caesar Borgia, after long division between 
 him and the lords of Romagna, fell to accord 
 with them. In this accord there was an article 
 that he should not call them at any time all 
 together in person. The meaning was, that 
 knowing his dangerous nature, if he meant 
 them treason, he might have opportunity to 
 oppress them altogether at once. Neverthe- 
 less, he used such fine art, and fair carriage, 
 that he won their confidence to meet all 
 together in council at Cinigaglia, where he 
 murdered them all. This act, when it was 
 related unto Pope Alexander, his father, by a 
 cardinal, as a thing happy, but very perfidi- 
 ous, the pope said, "It was they that broke 
 their covenant first, in coming all together." 
 
366 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Clodius was acquitted by a corrupt jury, that 
 had palpably taken shares of money before 
 they gave their verdict; they prayed of the 
 senate a guard, that they might do their con- 
 sciences, for that Clodius was a very seditious 
 young nobleman. Whereupon all the world 
 gave him for condemned. But acquitted he 
 was. Catulus, the next day seeing some of 
 them that had acquitted him together, said to 
 them, "What made you ask of us a guard? 
 Were you afraid your money should have been 
 taken from you?" 
 
 At the same judgment, Cicero gave in evi- 
 dence upon oath; and when the jury, which 
 consisted of fifty-seven, had passed against his 
 evidence, one day in the senate Cicero and 
 Clodius being in altercation, Clodius upbraided 
 him, and said, "The jury gave you no credit. " 
 Cicero answered, "Five and twenty gave me 
 credit; but there were two and thirty that 
 gave you no credit, for they had their money 
 beforehand. " 
 
 Diogenes having seen that the kingdom of 
 Macedon, which before was contemptible and 
 low, began to come aloft, when he died, was 
 asked how he would be buried? He answered, 
 "With my face downward; for within a while 
 the world will be turned upside down, and 
 then I shall lie right. M 
 
 Cato the elder was wont to say, that the 
 Romans were like sheep; a man could better 
 drive a flock of them, than one of them. 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 367 
 
 When Lycurgus was to reform and alter the 
 state of Sparta; in consultation, one advised, 
 that it should be reduced to an absolute pop- 
 ular equality; but Lycurgus said to him, "Sir, 
 begin it in your own house/' 
 
 Bion, that was an atheist, was showed in a 
 port city, in a temple of Neptune, many tables 
 of pictures of such as had in tempests made 
 their vows to Neptune, and were saved from 
 shipwreck: and was asked, "How say you now? 
 Do you not acknowledge the power of the 
 gods?" But saith he, "Ay; but where are 
 they painted that have been drowned after 
 their vows?" 
 
 Cicero was at dinner, where there was an 
 ancient lady that spake of her own years, and 
 said, she was but forty years old. One that 
 sat by Cicero sounded him in the ear and said, 
 "She talks of forty years old; but she is far 
 more, out of question." Cicero answered him 
 again, "I must believe her; for I have heard 
 her say so many times these ten years." 
 
 There was a soldier that vaunted before 
 Julius Caesar of the hurts he had received in 
 his face. Julius Caesar, knowing him to be 
 but a coward, told him, "You were best take 
 heed next time you run away, how you look 
 back." 
 
 Vespasian asked of Apollonius what was the 
 cause of Nero's ruin? Who answered, "Nero 
 
368 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 could tune the harp well, but in government 
 he did always wind up the strings too high, or 
 let them down too low. " 
 
 Antisthenes being asked of one, what learn- 
 ing was most necessary for man's life, an- 
 swered, "To unlearn that which is nought. " 
 
 Diogenes, when mice came about him, as he 
 was eating, said, "I see that even Diogenes 
 nourisheth parasites. ' ' 
 
 Heraclitus the obscure said, "The dry light 
 is the best soul;" meaning, when the faculties 
 intellectual are in vigor, not drenched, or as it 
 were blooded by the affections. 
 
 One of the philosophers was asked, in what a 
 wise man differed from a fool. He answered, 
 "Send them both naked to those that know 
 them not, and you shall perceive." 
 
 There was a law made by the Romans 
 against the bribery and extortion of the gov- 
 ernors of provinces. Cicero saith, in a speech of 
 his to the people, that he thought the prov- 
 inces would petition to the state of Rome to 
 have that law repealed. "For," saith he, 
 "before the governors did bribe and extort as 
 much as was sufficient for themselves; but 
 now they bribe and extort as much as may be 
 enough, not only for themselves, but for the 
 judges and jurors, and magistrates." 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. -- 369 
 
 Aristippus sailing in a tempest, showed signs 
 of fear. One of the seamen said to him, in an 
 insulting manner, u We that are plebeians are 
 not troubled ; you that are a philosopher are 
 afraid." Aristippus answered, that " There is 
 not the like wager upon it, for you to perish 
 and for me. ' ' 
 
 It fell out so, that as Livia went abroad in 
 Rome, there met her naked young men that 
 were sporting in the streets, which Augustus 
 went about severely to punish in them ; but 
 Livia spake for them, and said, "It was no 
 more to chaste women, than so many statues." 
 
 Philip of Macedon was wished to banish one 
 for speaking ill of him. But Philip answered, 
 "Better he speak where we are both known 
 than where we are both unknown." 
 
 Lucullus entertained Pompey in one of his 
 magnificent houses; Pompey said, "This is a 
 marvelous fair and stately house for the sum- 
 mer; but methinks it should be very cold for 
 winter/ ' Lucullus answered, "Do you not 
 think me as wise as divers fowls are, to 
 change my habitation in the winter season?" 
 
 Plato entertained some of his friends at a 
 dinner, and had in the chamber a bed, or 
 couch, neatly and costly furnished. Diogenes 
 came in, and got up upon the bed, and tram- 
 pled it, saying, "I trample upon the pride of 
 Plato." Plato mildly answered, "But with 
 greater pride, Diogenes." 
 
 24 Bacon 
 
370 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Pompey being commissioner for sending 
 grain to Rome in time of dearth, when he 
 came to the sea, found it very tempestuous 
 and dangerous, insomuch as those about him 
 advised him by no means to embark; but 
 Pompey said, "It is of necessity that I go, not 
 that Hive." 
 
 Demosthenes was upbraided by ^Eschines 
 that his speeches did smell of the lamp. But 
 Demosthenes said, "Indeed, there is a great 
 deal of difference between that which you and 
 I do by lamp-light. ' * 
 
 Demades the orator, in his age, was talka- 
 tive, and would eat hard: Antipater would say 
 of him, that he was like a sacrifice, that noth- 
 ing was left of it but the tongue and the 
 paunch. 
 
 Philo Judaeus saith, that the sense is like the 
 sun ; for the sun seals up the globe of heaven 
 and opens the globe of earth; so the sense 
 doth obscure heavenly things and reveals 
 earthly things. 
 
 Alexander, after the battle of Granicum, had 
 very great offers made him by Darius; consult- 
 ing with his captains concerning them, Par- 
 menio said, "Sure, I would accept of these 
 offers if I were as Alexander. " Alexander 
 answered, "So would I if I were as Parmenio. " 
 
 Augustus Caesar would say, that he won- 
 dered that Alexander feared he should want 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 371 
 
 work, having no more worlds to conquer, as if 
 it were not as hard a matter to keep as to 
 conquer. 
 
 Antigonus, when it was told him that the 
 enemy had such volleys of arrows that they 
 did hide the sun, said, "That falls out well, 
 for it is hot weather, and so we shall fight in 
 the shade. " 
 
 Cato the elder, being aged, buried his wife, 
 and married a young woman. His son came 
 to him, and said, "Sir, what have I offended, 
 that you have brought a step-mother into your 
 house?" The old man answered, "Nay, quite 
 contrary, son ; thou pleaseth me so well, as I 
 should be glad to have much more such." 
 
 Crassus the orator had a fish which the Ro- 
 mans call Muraena, that he made very tame 
 and fond of him; the fish died, and Crassus 
 wept for it. One day, falling in contention 
 with Domitius in the senate, Domitius said, 
 "Foolish Crassus, you wept for your Muraena. " 
 Crassus replied, "That's more than you did 
 for your two wives. " 
 
 Philip Alexander's father, gave sentence 
 against a prisoner what time he was drowsy, 
 and seemed to give small attention. The pris- 
 oner, after sentence was pronounced, said, "I 
 appeal." The king, somewhat stirred, said, 
 "To whom do you appeal?" The prisoner 
 answered, "From Philip when he gave no ear 
 to Philip when he shall give ear." 
 
372 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 There was a philosopher that disputed with 
 Adrian the emperor, and did it but weakly. 
 One of his friends that stood by, afterward 
 said to him, "Methinks you were not like 
 yourself last day, in argument with the em- 
 peror; I could have answered better myself." 
 "Why," said the philosopher, "would you have 
 me contend with him that commands thirty 
 legions?" 
 
 When Alexander passed into Asia, he gave 
 large donations to his captains and other prin- 
 cipal men of virtue; insomuch as Parmenio 
 asked him, "Sir, what do you keep for your- 
 self?" He answered, "Hope. " 
 
 There was one that found a great mass of 
 money digged underground in his grand- 
 father's house, and being somewhat doubtful 
 of the case, signified it to the emperor, that he 
 had found such treasure. The emperor, made 
 a rescript thus: "Use it." He writ back again, 
 that the sum was greater than his state or con- 
 dition could use. The emperor writ a new 
 rescript, thus: "Abuse it." 
 
 Julius Caesar, as he passed by, was, by accla- 
 mation of some that stood in the way, termed 
 king, to try how the people would take it. The 
 people showed great murmur and distaste at 
 it. Caesar finding where the wind stood, 
 slighted it, and said, "I am not king, but 
 Caesar;" as if they had mistaken his name; 
 for rex was a surname among the Romans, as 
 king is with us. 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 373 
 
 When Croesus, for his glory, showed Solon 
 his great treasures of gold, Solon said to him, 
 44 If another king come that hath better iron 
 than you, he will be master of all this gold." 
 
 Aristippus, being reprehended of luxury, by 
 one that was not rich, for that he gave six 
 crowns for a small fish, answered, 44 Why, what 
 would you have given?" The other said, 
 4 * Some twelve pence." Aristippus said again, 
 44 And six crowns is no more with me." 
 
 Plato reprehended severely a young man for 
 entering into a dissolute house. The young 
 man said to him, 44 Why do you reprehend so 
 sharply for so small a matter?" Plato replied, 
 44 But custom is no small matter." 
 
 , Archidamus, king of Lacedaemon, having 
 received from Philip, king of Macedon (after 
 Philip had won the victory of Chaeronea, upon 
 the Athenians), proud letters, writ back to 
 him, that if he measured his own shadow, he 
 would find it no longer than it was before his 
 victory. 
 
 Pyrrhus, when his friends congratulated to 
 him his victory over the Romans, under the 
 conduct of Fabricius, but with great slaughter 
 of his own side, said to them again, 44 Yes, but 
 if we have such another victory, we are un- 
 done." 
 
 Plato was wont to say of his master Socrates, 
 that he was like the apothecaries' gallipots, 
 
374 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 that had on the outside apes, owls, and satyrs, 
 but within, precious drugs. 
 
 Alexander sent to Phocion a great present 
 of money. Phocion said to the messenger, 
 44 Why doth the king send to me, and to none 
 else?" The messenger answered, "Because 
 he takes you to be the only good man in 
 Athens. " Phocion replied, " If he thinks so,. 
 pray let him suffer me to be so still." 
 
 At a banquet, where those that were called 
 the seven wise men of Greece were invited by 
 the ambassador of a barbarous king, the ambas- 
 sador related, that there was a neighbor 
 mightier than his master, who picked quarrels 
 with him, by making impossible demands; 
 otherwise threatening war; and now at that 
 present had demanded of him to drink up the 
 sea. Whereunto one of the wise men said, 
 " I would have him undertake it." "Why," 
 said the ambassador, "how shall he come off?" 
 "Thus," saith the wise man; "let the king first 
 stop the rivers which run into the sea, which 
 are no part of the bargain, and then your mas- 
 ter will perform it." 
 
 Hanno the Carthaginian was sent commis- 
 sioner by the state, after the second Cartha- 
 ginian war, to supplicate for peace, and in the 
 end obtained it ; yet one of the sharper sena- 
 tors said, "You have often broken with us the 
 peace, whereunto you have sworn ; I pray, by 
 what god will you swear?" Hanno answered, 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 375 
 
 44 By the same gods that punished the former 
 perjury so severely." 
 
 One of the seven was wont to say, that laws 
 were like cobwebs, where the small flies were 
 caught, and the great brake through. 
 
 Louis the Eleventh of France, having much 
 abated the p^eatness and power of the peers, 
 nobility, and court of parliament, would say, 
 that he had brought the crown out of ward. 
 
 There was a cowardly Spanish soldier, that 
 in a defeat that the Moors gave, ran away with 
 the foremost. Afterward, when the army 
 generally fled, this soldier was missing. 
 Whereupon it was said by some, that he was 
 slain. 44 No, sure," said one, * 4 he is alive; for 
 the Moors eat no hare's flesh." 
 
 One was saying that his great-grandfather, 
 and grandfather, and father, died at sea. Said 
 an officer, that heard him, 4i And I were as you, 
 I would never come at sea." "Why," said he, 
 44 where did your great-grandfather, and grand- 
 father, and father die?" He answered, 
 44 Where, but in their beds?" He answered, 
 44 And I were as you, I would never come in 
 bed." 
 
 There was a dispute, whether great heads or 
 little heads had the better wit? And one said, 
 44 It must needs be the little; for that it is a 
 maxim, "Omne majus continet in se minus." 
 
376 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Sir Thomas More, when the counsel of the 
 party pressed him for a longer day to perform 
 the decree, said, "Take St. Barnaby's day, 
 which is the longest day in the year/' Now, 
 St. Barnaby's day was within a few days fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 There was an Epicurean vaunted that divers 
 of other sects of philosophers did after turn 
 Epicureans; but there was never any Epicu- 
 reans that turned to any other sect. Where- 
 upon a philosopher, that was of another sect, 
 said, the reason was plain, for that cocks may 
 be made capons; but capons could never be 
 made cocks. 
 
 Chilon would say, that gold was tried with 
 the touchstone, and men with gold. 
 
 Mr. Popham (afterward Lord Chief Justice 
 Popham), when he was speaker, and the House 
 of Commons had sat long, and done in effect 
 nothing, coming one day to Queen Elizabeth, 
 she said to him, "Now, Mr. Speaker, what hath 
 passed in the Commons House?" He an- 
 swered, "If it please your Majesty, seven 
 weeks. ' ' 
 
 Themistocles, in his lower fortune, was in 
 love with a young gentleman who scorned him ; 
 but when he grew to his greatness, which was 
 soon after, he sought him : Themistocles said, 
 "We are both grown wise, but too late. " 
 
 Aristippus was earnest suitor to Dionysius 
 for some grant, who would give no ear to his 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 377 
 
 suit. Aristippus fell at his feet, and then 
 Dionysius granted it. One that stood by said 
 afterward to Aristippus, "You, a philosopher, 
 and be so base as to throw yourself at the 
 tyrant's feet to get a suit!" Aristippus an- 
 swered, "The fault is not mine; but the fault 
 is in Dionysius, that carries his ears in his 
 feet." 
 
 Solon being asked, whether he had given the 
 Atheians the best laws, answered, "The best 
 of those that they would have received/' 
 
 One said to Aristippus, " 'Tis a strange 
 thing, why men should rather give to the poor, 
 than to philosophers." He answered, "Be- 
 cause they think themselves may sooner come 
 to be poor, than to be philosophers." 
 
 Trajan would say of the vain jealousy of 
 princes, that seek to make away those that 
 aspire to their succession, that there was never 
 king that did put to death his successor. 
 
 Alexander used to sav of his two friends, 
 
 J 7 
 
 Craterus and Hephaestion, that Hephaestion 
 loved Alexander, and Craterus loved the kine. 
 
 ir> 
 
 One of the fathers saith, that there is but 
 this difference between the death of old men 
 and young men ; that old men go to death, and 
 death comes to young men. 
 
 Jason the Thessalian was wont to say, that 
 some things must be done unjustly, that many 
 things may be done justly. 
 
378 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 Demetrius, king of Macedon, would at times 
 retire himself from business, and give himself 
 wholly to pleasures. On one of those his re- 
 tirings, giving out that he was sick, his father, 
 Antigonus, came on the sudden to visit him, 
 and met a fair dainty youth coming out of his 
 chamber. When Antigonus came in, Deme- 
 trius said, "Sir, the fever left me right now." 
 Antigonus replied, "I think it was he that I 
 met at the door." 
 
 Cato major would say, that wise men learned 
 more by fools, than fools by wise men. 
 
 When it was said to Anaxagoras, "The 
 Athenians have condemned you to die," he 
 replied, "And nature them." 
 
 Alexander, when his father wished him to 
 run for the prize of the race of the Olympian 
 games (for he was very swift), he answered, 
 he would, if he might run with kings. 
 
 Antigonus used often to go disguised, and to 
 listen at the tents of his soldiers; and at a time 
 heard some that spoke very ill of him. 
 Whereupon he opened the tent a little, and said 
 to them, "If you would speak ill of me, you 
 should go a little farther off. ' ' 
 
 Aristippus said, that those that studied par- 
 ticular sciences, and neglected philosophy, 
 were like Penelope's wooers, and made love 
 to the waiting- women. 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 379 
 
 The ambassadors of Asia Minor came to 
 Antonius, after he had imposed upon them a 
 double tax, and said plainly to him, that if he 
 would have two tributes in one year, he must 
 give them two seed-times and two harvests. 
 
 An orator of Athens said to Demosthenes, 
 "The Athenians will kill you if they wax 
 mad." Demosthenes replied, "And they will 
 kill you if they be in good sense. " 
 
 Epictetus used to say, that one of the vulgar, 
 in any ill that happens to him, blames others; 
 a novice in philosophy blames himself; and a 
 philosopher blames neither the one nor the 
 other. 
 
 Cato the elder, what time many of the 
 Romans had statues erected in their honor, 
 was asked by one, in a kind of wonder, why he 
 had none? He answered, he had much rather 
 men should ask and wonder why he had no 
 statue, than why he had a statue. 
 
 A certain friend of Sir Thomas More, taking 
 great pains about a book, which he intended to 
 publish (being well conceited of his own wit, 
 which no man else thought worthy of com- 
 mendation), brought it to Sir Thomas More to 
 peruse it, and pass his judgment upon it, which 
 he did; and finding nothing therein worthy 
 the press, he said to him, with a grave coun- 
 tenance, that if it were in verse, it would be 
 more worthy. Upon which words, he went 
 
380 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 immediately and turned it into verse, and then 
 brought it to Sir Thomas again; who, looking 
 thereon, said soberly, "Yes, marry, now it is 
 somewhat; for now it is rhyme; whereas be- 
 fore, it was neither rhyme nor reason. " 
 
 Sir Henry Wotton used to say, that critics 
 were like brushers of noblemen's clothes. 
 
 Phocion the Athenian (a man of great sever- 
 ity, and noways flexible to the will of the 
 people), one day; when he spake to the people, 
 in one part of his speech, was applauded; 
 whereupon, he turned to one of his friends, and 
 asked, "What have I said amiss?" 
 
 Diogenes was one day in the market-place, 
 with a candle in his hand, and being asked 
 what he sought, he said, he sought a man. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth was entertained by my 
 Lord Burleigh at Theobalds ; and at her going 
 away, my lord obtained of the queen to make 
 seven knights. They were gentlemen of the 
 country, of my lord's friends and neighbors. 
 They were placed in a rank, as the queen 
 should pass by the hall; and to win antiquity 
 of knighthood, in order as my lord favored, 
 though, indeed, the more principal gentlemen 
 were placed lowest. The queen was told of it, 
 and said nothing; but when she went along, 
 she passed them all by as far as the screen, as 
 if she had forgot it; and when she came to 
 the screen, she seemed to take herself with the 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 381 
 
 manner, and said, t4 I had almost forgot what I 
 promised." With that she turned back, and 
 knighted the lowest first, and so upward. 
 Whereupon Mr. Stanhope, of the privy 
 chamber, a while after told her, "Your 
 Majesty was too fine for my Lord Burleigh." 
 She answered, lt I have but fulfilled the Scrip- 
 ture : the first shall be the last, and the last 
 first/' 
 
 Bion was sailing, and there fell out a great 
 tempest, and the mariners that were wicked 
 and dissolute fellows called upon the gods ; but 
 Bion said to them, "Peace, let them not know 
 you are here." 
 
 The Turks made an expedition into Persia ; 
 and because of the strait jaws of the moun- 
 tains of Armenia, the bashaw consulted which 
 way they should get in. One that heard the 
 debate said, "Here's much ado how you shall 
 get in ; but I hear nobody take care how you 
 shall get out." 
 
 Philip, king of Macedon, maintained argu- 
 ments with a musican, in points of his art, 
 somewhat peremptorily; but the musician said 
 to him, "God forbid, sire, your fortune were 
 so hard, that you should know these things 
 better than myself." 
 
 Pace the fool was not suffered to come at 
 Queen Elizabeth, because of his bitter humor. 
 Yet at one time, some persuaded the queen 
 
382 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 that he should come to her; undertaking for 
 him, that he should keep within compass ; so 
 he was brought to her, and the queen said, 
 44 come on, Pace, now we shall hear of our 
 faults." Saith Pace, 44 I do not use to talk of 
 that that all the town talks of." 
 
 After the defeat of Cyrus the younger, Fal- 
 inus was sent by the king to the Grecians (who 
 had for their part rather victory than other- 
 wise), to command them to yield their arms; 
 which, when it was denied, Falinus said to 
 Clearchus, 44 Well, then, the king lets you 
 know, that if you remove from the place where 
 you are now encamped, it is war ; if you stay, 
 it is truce. What shall I say you will do?" 
 Clearchus answered, <4 It please th us, as it 
 pleaseth the king." 44 How is that?" saith 
 Falinus. Saith Clearchus, * 4 If we remove, war; 
 if we stay, truce:" and so would not disclose 
 his purpose. 
 
 Nero was wont to say of his master Seneca, 
 that his style was like mortar without lime. 
 
 A seaman coming before the judges of the 
 Admiralty for admittance into an office of a 
 ship bound for the Indies, was by one of the 
 judges much slighted, as an insufficient person 
 for that office he sought to obtain; the judge 
 telling him, that he believed he could not say 
 the points of his compass. The seaman 
 answered, that he could say them, under favor, 
 better than he could say his Paternoster. The 
 judge replied, that he would wager twenty shil- 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 383 
 
 lings with him upon that. The seaman taking 
 him up, it came to trial ; and the seaman began, 
 and said all the points of his compass very 
 exactly; the judge likewise said his Paternos- 
 ter; and when he had finished it, he required 
 the wager according to agreement, because the 
 seaman was to say his compass better than he 
 his Paternoster, which he had not performed. 
 44 Nay, I pray sir, hold," quoth the seaman, 
 44 the wager is not finished, for I have but half 
 done;" and so he immediately said his compass 
 backward very exactly ; which the judge failing 
 of in his Paternoster, the seaman carried away 
 the prize. 
 
 Sir Fulke Grevil had much and private access 
 to Queen Elizabeth, which he used honorably, 
 and did many men good; yet he would say 
 merrily of himself, that he was like Robin 
 Goodfellow ; for when the maids spilt the milk 
 pans, or kept any racket, they would lay it 
 upon Robin : so what tales the ladies about the 
 queen told her, or other bad offices that they 
 did. they would put it upon him. 
 
 Cato said, the best way to keep good acts in 
 memory, was to refresh them with new. 
 
 Aristippus said, he took money of his friends, 
 not so much to use it himself, as to teach them 
 how to bestow their money. 
 
 A strumpet said to Aristippus, that she was 
 with child by him; he answered, 44 You know 
 that no more, than if you went through a hedge 
 
384 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 of thorns, you could say, this thorn pricked 
 me. 
 
 Democritus said, that truth did lie in the 
 profound pits, and when it was got, it needed 
 much refining. 
 
 Diogenes said of a young man that danced 
 daintily, and was much commended, " 'Tis 
 better, the worse." 
 
 Diogenes seeing one that was a bastard cast- 
 ing stones among the people, bade him take 
 heed he hit not his father. 
 
 Plutarch said well, "It is otherwise in a com- 
 monwealth of men than of bees; the hive of a 
 city or kingdom is in best condition, when 
 there is least of noise or buzz in it. ' ' 
 
 The same Plutarch said of men of weak 
 abilities set in great place, that they were like 
 little statues set on great bases, made to appear 
 the less by their advancement. 
 
 He said again, "Good fame is like fire: when 
 you have kindled it, you may easily perserve it ; 
 but if you once extinguish it, you will not 
 easily kindle it again. " 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, seeing Sir Edward in 
 
 her garden, looked out at her window, and 
 asked him in Italian, "What does a man think 
 of when he thinks of nothing?" Sir Edward 
 (who had not had the effect of some of the 
 queen's grants so soon as he had hoped and 
 desired) paused a little, and then made an- 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 385 
 
 swer, "Madame, hethinksof a woman's prom- 
 ise/' The queen shrunk in her head, but was 
 heard to say, "Well, Sir Edward, I must not 
 confute you. Anger makes dull men witty, but 
 it keeps them poor." 
 
 When any great officer, ecclesiastical or civil, 
 was to be made, the queen would inquire after 
 the piety, integrity, and learning of the man. 
 And when she was satisfied in these qualifica- 
 tions, she would consider of his personage. 
 And upon such an occasion she pleased once to 
 say to me, " Bacon, how can the magistrate 
 maintain his authority when the man is 
 despised?" 
 
 In eighty-eight, when the queen went from 
 Temple Bar along Fleet Street, the lawyers 
 were ranked one side, and the companies 
 of the city on the other; said Master Bacon to 
 a lawyer that stood next to him, "Do but 
 observe the courtiers ; if they bow first to the 
 citizens, they are in debt; if first to us, they 
 are in law. ' ' 
 
 A Grecian captain advising the confederates 
 that were united against the Lacedaemonians, 
 touching their enterprise, gave opinion, that 
 they should go directly upon Sparta, saying, 
 that the state of Sparta was like rivers ; strong 
 when they had run a great way, and weak 
 toward their head. 
 
 One was examined upon certain scandalous 
 words spoken against the king. He confessed 
 them, and said, "It is true, I spake them, and 
 
 25 Bacon 
 
386 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 if the wine had not failed, I had said much 
 more." 
 
 Charles the Bald allowed one whose name 
 was Scottus to sit at the table with him for his 
 pleasure. Scottus sat on the other side of the 
 table. One time the king, being merry with 
 him, said to him, "What is there between Scot 
 and sot?" Scottus answered, "The table 
 only." 
 
 There was a marriage made between a widow 
 of great wealth and a gentlemen of great house 
 that had no estate or means. Jack Roberts 
 said that marriage was like a black pudding: 
 the one brought blood, and the other brought 
 suet and oatmeal. 
 
 Diogenes was asked in a kind of scorn, What 
 was the matter that philosophers haunted rich 
 men, and not rich men philosophers? He 
 answered. "Because the one knew what they 
 wanted, the other did not." 
 
 Demetrius, ; King of Macedon, had a petition 
 offered him divers times by an old woman, and 
 answered, he had no leisure. Whereupon the 
 woman said aloud, "Why, then, give over to 
 be king?" 
 
 When King Edward the Second was among 
 his torturers, who hurried him to and fro, that 
 no man should know where he was, they set 
 him down upon a bank; and one time, the 
 more to disguise his face, shaved him, and 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 387 
 
 washed him with cold water of a ditch by. 
 The king said, "Well, yet I will have warm 
 water for my beard;" and so shed abundance 
 of tears. 
 
 King James was wont to be very earnest with 
 the country gentlemen to go from London to 
 their country houses. And sometimes he 
 would say thus to them: "Gentlemen, at Lon- 
 don you are like ships at sea, which show like 
 nothing; but in your country villages you are 
 like ships in a river, which look like great 
 things." 
 
 Count Gondomar sent a compliment to my 
 Lord St. Alban, wishing him a good Easter. 
 My lord thanked the messenger, and said he 
 could not at present requite the count better 
 than in returning him the like ; that he wished 
 his lordship a good Passover. 
 
 My Lord Chancelor Elsmere, when he had 
 read a petition which he disliked, would say, 
 "What, you would have my hand to this now?" 
 And the party answering "Yes," he would say 
 further, "Well, so you shall; nay, you shall 
 have both my hands to it. " And so would, 
 with both his hands, tear it in pieces. 
 
 Sir Francis Bacon was wont to say of an 
 angry man who suppressed his passion, that he 
 thought worse than he spoke ; and of an angry 
 man that would chide, that he spoke worse than 
 he thought. 
 
388 APOPHTHEGMS. 
 
 When Mr. Attorney Coke, in the Exchequer, 
 gave high words to Sir Francis Bacon, and 
 stood much upon the higher place, Sir Francis 
 said to him, "Mr. Attorney, the less you speak 
 of your own greatness, the more I shall think 
 of it; and the more, the less." 
 
 Sir Francis Bacon (who was always for mod- 
 erate counsels), when one was speaking of such 
 a reformation of the Church of England as 
 would in effect make it no church, said thus to 
 him; "Sir, the subject we talk of is the eye of 
 England, and if there be a speck or two in the 
 eye, we endeavor to take them off; but he 
 were a strange oculist who would pull out the 
 eye. 
 
 The same Sir Francis Bacon was wont to say, 
 that those who left useful studies for useless 
 scholastic speculations were like the Olympic 
 gamesters, who abstained from necessary 
 labors, that they might be fit for such as were 
 not so. 
 
 The Lord St. Alban, who was not overhasty 
 to raise theories, but proceeded slowly by 
 experiments, was wont to say to some philos- 
 ophers, who would not go his pace, "Gentle- 
 men, nature is a labyrinth, in which the very 
 haste you move with will make you lose your 
 way. ' ' 
 
 The same lord, when a gentleman seemed 
 not much to approve of his liberality to his 
 
APOPHTHEGMS. 389 
 
 retinue, said to him : ' 4 Sir, I am all of a piece ; 
 if the head be lifted up, the inferior parts of 
 the body must, too." 
 
 The Lord Bacon was wont to commend the 
 advice of the plain old man at Buxton, that sold 
 besoms ; a proud, lazy young fellow came to him 
 for a besom upon trust ; to whom the old man 
 said, " Friend, hast thou no money? Borrow 
 of thy back, and borrow of thy belly, they'll 
 ne'er ask thee again. I shall be dunning thee 
 every day." 
 
 Jack Weeks said of a great man (just then 
 dead), who pretended to some religion, but was 
 none of the best livers, "Well, I hope he is in 
 heaven. Every man thinks as he wishes ; but if 
 he be in heaven, 'twere pity it were known." 
 
 His lordship, when he had finished this col- 
 lection of apophthegms, concluded thus: 
 "Come, now all is well; they say, he is not a 
 wise man that will lose his friend for his wit; 
 but he is less a wise man that will lose his 
 friend for another man's wit." 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA; 
 
 OR, 
 
 ELEGANT SENTENCES. 
 
 Aleator, quanto in arte est melior tanto est 
 nequior — A gamester, the greater master he is 
 in his art, the worse man he is. 
 
 Arcum, intensio frangit; animum, remissio — 
 Much mending breaks the bow ; much unbend- 
 ing the mind. 
 
 Bis vincit, qui se vincit in victoria — He con- 
 quers twice, who restrains himself in victory. 
 
 Cum vitia prosint, peccat qui recte facit — If 
 vices were profitable, the virtuous man would 
 be the sinner. 
 
 Bene dormit, qui non sentit quod male dor- 
 miat — He sleeps well, who is not conscious that 
 he sleeps ill. 
 
 Deliberare utilia, mora est tutissima — To 
 deliberate about useful things is the safest 
 delay. 
 
 Dolor decrescit. ubi quo crescat non habet 
 — The flood of grief decreaseth, when it can 
 swell no higher. 
 
 390 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 391 
 
 Etiam innocentes cogit mentiri dolor — Pain 
 makes even the innocent man a liar. 
 
 Etiam celeritas in desiderio, mora est — In 
 desire, swiftness itself is delay. 
 
 Etiam capillus turns habet umbram suam — 
 Even a single hair casts a shadow. 
 
 Fidem qui perdit, quose servat in reliquum? 
 — He that has lost his faith, what staff has he 
 left? 
 
 Formosa facies muta commendatio est — A 
 beautiful face is a silent commendation. 
 
 Fortuna nimium quern fovet, stultum facit — 
 Fortune makes him fool, whom she makes her 
 darling. 
 
 Fortuna obesse nulli contenta est semel — 
 Fortune is not content to do a man one ill turn. 
 
 Facit gratum fortuna, quern nemo videt — 
 The fortune which nobody sees makes a man 
 happy and unenvied. 
 
 Heu! quam miserum est ab illo laedi, de 
 quo non possis queri — Oh ! what a miserable 
 thing it is to be injured by those of whom we 
 cannot complain. 
 
 Homo toties moritur quoties amittit suos 
 — A man dies as often as he loses his friends. 
 
392 ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 
 
 Haeredis. fletus sub. persona risus est — The 
 tears of an heir are laughter under a mask. 
 
 juncundum nihilest, nisi quod reficit vari- 
 etas — Nothing is pleasant which is not spiced 
 with variety. 
 
 Invidiam ferre, aut fortis, aux felix potest — 
 He may be envied, who is either courageous or 
 
 happy. 
 
 In malis sperare bonum, nisi innocens, nemo 
 potest — In adversity, only the virtues can enter- 
 tain hope. 
 
 In vindicando, criminosa est celeritas — In 
 revenge, haste is criminal. 
 
 In calamitoso risus etiam injuria est — In 
 misfortune, even to smile is to offend. 
 
 Improbe Neptunum accusat, qui iterum 
 naufragium facit— He accuseth Neptune un- 
 justly, who incurs shipwreck a second time. 
 
 Multis minatur, qui uni facit injuriam — He 
 that injures one, threatens many. 
 
 Mora omnis ingrata est, sed facit sapientiam 
 — All delay is unpleasant, but we are the wiser 
 for it. 
 
 Mori est f elicis antequam mortem invocet — 
 Happy he who dies ere he calls on death. 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA, 393 
 
 Malus ubi bonum se simulet, tunc est pessi- 
 mus — A bad man is worst when he pretends to 
 be a saint. 
 
 Magno cum periculo custoditur, quod multis 
 placet — Lock and key will scarce keep that 
 secure which pleases everybody. 
 
 Male vivunt qui se semper victuros putant — 
 They live ill, who think to live forever. 
 
 Male secum agit aeger, medictim qui 
 haeredem facit — That sick man does ill for 
 himself, who makes his physician his heir. 
 
 Multos timere debet, quern multi timent — 
 He of whom many are afraid, ought himself to 
 fear many. 
 
 Nulla tam bona est fortuna, de qua nil possis 
 queri — There's no fortune so good, but it has 
 its alloy. 
 
 Pars beneficii est quod petitur, si bene neges 
 — That is half granted which is denied graci- 
 ously. 
 
 Timidus vocat se cautum, parcum sordidus 
 — The coward calls himself a cautious man ; and 
 the miser says, he is frugal. 
 
 O vita! misero longa, felici brevis — life! 
 an age to the miserable, a moment to be 
 
 happy. 
 
394 ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 
 
 The following are sentences extracted from 
 the writings of Lord Bacon: 
 
 It is a strange desire which men have, to 
 seek power and lose liberty. 
 
 Children increase the cares of life: but they 
 mitigate the remembrance of death. 
 
 Round dealing is the honor of man's nature ; 
 and a mixture of falsehood is like alloy in gold 
 and silver, which may make the metal work 
 the better, but it debaseth it. 
 
 Death openeth the gate to good fame, and 
 extinguisheth envy. 
 
 Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the 
 more a man's nature runs to, the more ought 
 law to weed it out. 
 
 He that studieth revenge, keepeth his own 
 wounds green. 
 
 It was a high speech of Seneca (after the 
 manner of the Stoics), that the good things 
 which belong to prosperity are to be wished ; 
 but the good things which belong to a'dversity 
 are to be admired. 
 
 He that cannot see well, let him go softly. 
 
 If a man be thought secret, it inviteth dis- 
 covery ; as the more close air sucketh in the 
 more open. 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 395 
 
 Keep your authority wholly from your chil- 
 dren, not so your purse. 
 
 Men of noble birth are noted to be envious 
 toward new men when they rise. For the dis- 
 tance is altered; and it is like a deceit of the 
 eye, that when others come on, they think 
 themselves go back. 
 
 As in nature things move more violently to 
 their place, and calmly in their place ; so vir- 
 tue in ambition is violent ; in authority, settled 
 and calm. 
 
 Boldness in civil business, is like pronuncia- 
 tion in the orator of Demosthenes; the first, 
 second, and third thing. 
 
 Boldness is blind: whereof 'tis ill in counsel, 
 but good in execution. For in counsel it is 
 good to see dangers, in execution not to see 
 them, except they be very great. 
 
 Without good-nature, man is but a better 
 kind of vermin. 
 
 God never wrought miracles to convince 
 atheism, because his ordinary works convince 
 it. 
 
 The great atheists indeed are hypocrites, who 
 are always handling holy things, but without 
 feeling, so as they must needs be cauterized in 
 the end. 
 
396 ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 
 
 The master of superstition is the people. 
 And in all superstition, wise men follow fools. 
 
 In removing superstitions, care should 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 phy- 
 sician. 
 
 He that goeth into a country before he hath 
 some entrance into the language, goeth to 
 school, and not to travel. 
 
 It is a miserable state of mind (and yet it is 
 commonly the case of kings) to have few 
 things to desire, and many to fear. 
 
 Depression of the nobility may make a king 
 more absolute, but less safe. 
 
 All precepts concerning kings are, in effect, 
 comprehended in these remembrances: Re- 
 member thou art a man; remember thou art 
 God's vicegerent. The one bridleth their 
 power, and the other their will. 
 
 Things will have their first or second agita- 
 tion. If they be not tossed upon the arguments 
 of counsel, they will be tossed upon the waves 
 of fortune. 
 
 The true composition of a counselor, is 
 rather to be skilled in his master's business 
 than his nature ; for then he is like to advise 
 him, and not to feed his humor. 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 397 
 
 Fortune sometimes turneth the handle of the 
 bottle, which is easy to be taken hold of; and 
 after the belly, which is hard to grasp. 
 
 Generally it is good to commit the beginning 
 of all great actions to Argus with a hundred 
 eyes; and the ends of them to Briareus with a 
 hundred hands ; first to watch and then to speed. 
 
 There is a great difference between a cun- 
 ning man and a wise man. There be that can 
 pack the cards, who yet can't play well; they 
 are good in canvasses and factions, and yet 
 otherwise mean men. 
 
 Extreme self-lovers will set a man's house on 
 fire, though it were but to roast their eggs. 
 
 New things, like strangers, are more ad- 
 mired and less favored. 
 
 It were good 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. 
 
 They that reverence too much old time, are 
 but a scorn to the new. 
 
 The Spaniards and Spartans 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 a-coming. 
 
 You had better take for business a man 
 somewhat absurd, than over-formal. 
 
39S ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 
 
 Those who want friends to whom to open 
 their griefs, are cannibals of their own hearts. 
 
 Number itself importeth not much in armies, 
 where the people are of weak courage; for (as 
 Virgil says) it never troubles a wolf how many 
 the sheep be. 
 
 Let states that aim at greatness, take heed 
 how their nobility and gentry multiply too fast. 
 In coppice woods, if you leave your staddles 
 too thick, you shall never have clean under- 
 wood, but shrubs and bushes. 
 
 A civil war is like the heat of a fever ; but a 
 foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and 
 serveth to keep the body in health. 
 
 Suspicions among thoughts are like bats 
 among birds, they ever fly by twilight. 
 
 Base natures, if they find themselves once 
 suspected, will never be true. 
 
 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. 
 
 Discretion in speech is more than eloquence. 
 
 Men seem neither well to understand their 
 riches, nor their strength ; of the former they 
 believe greater things than they should, and 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 399 
 
 of the latter much less. And from hence fatal 
 pillars have bounded the progress of learning. 
 
 Riches are the baggage of virtue ; they can 
 not be spared nor left behind, but they hinder 
 the march. 
 
 Great riches have sold more men than ever 
 they have bought out. 
 
 He that defers his charity till he is dead, is 
 (if a man weighs it rightly) rather liberal of 
 another man's than of his own. 
 
 Ambition is like choler; if he can move, it 
 makes men active ; if it be stopped, it becomes 
 a dust, and makes men melancholy. 
 
 To take a soldier without ambition, is to 
 pull off his spurs. 
 
 Some ambitious men seem as screens to 
 princes in matters of danger and envy. For 
 no man will take such parts, except he be like 
 the seel'd dove, that mounts and mounts, be- 
 cause he can not see about him. 
 
 Princes and states should choose such minis- 
 ters as are more sensible of duty than rising; 
 and should discern a € busy nature from a will- 
 ing mind. 
 
 A man's nature runs either to herbs or 
 weeds; therefore, let him seasonably water the 
 one, and destroy the other. 
 
400 ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 
 
 If a man look sharp and attentively, he 
 shall see fortune; for though she be blind, 
 she is not invisible. 
 
 Usury bringeth the treasure of the realm or 
 state into a few hands; for the usurer being at 
 certainties, and the others at uncertainties; at 
 the end of the game most of the money will be 
 in the box. 
 
 Beauty is best in a body that hath rather 
 dignity of presence, than beauty of aspect. 
 The beautiful prove accomplished, but not of 
 great spirit; and study, for the most part, 
 rather behavior than virtue. 
 
 The best part of beauty, is that which a pic- 
 ture cannot express. 
 
 He who builds a fair house upon an ill seat, 
 commits himself to prison. 
 
 If you would work on any man, you must 
 either know his nature and fashions, and so 
 lead him ; or his ends, and so persuade him ; or 
 his weaknesses and disadvantages, and so awe 
 him ; or those that have interest in him, and 
 so govern him. 
 
 Costly followers (among whom we may reck- 
 on those who are importunate in suits) are not 
 to be liked; lest while a man maketh his train 
 longer, he maketh his wings shorter. 
 
 Fame is like a river, that beareth up things 
 light and swollen, and drowns things weighty 
 and solid. 
 
ORNAMENTA RATIONALIA. 4U1 
 
 Seneca saith well, that anger is like rain, 
 that breaks itself upon that it falls. 
 
 Excusations, cessions, modesty itself well 
 governed, are but arts of ostentation. 
 
 High treason is not written in ice; that 
 when the body relenteth, the impression 
 should go away. 
 
 me best governments are always subject to 
 be like the fairest crystals, when every icicle 
 or grain is seen, which in a fouler stone is 
 never perceived. 
 
 In great places ask counsel of both times- 
 of the ancient time what is best, and of the 
 latter time what is fittest. 
 
 The virtue of prosperity is temperance, of 
 adversity fortitude, which in morals is the 
 more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the bless- 
 ing of the Old Testament, adversity the bless- 
 ing of the New, which carrieth the greater 
 benediction and the clearer revelation of God's 
 favor. 
 
 28 Bacon 
 
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