The Advancementof Learning

Francis Bacon

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THE FIRST BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON; OFTHE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENTOF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN.

There were under the law, excellent King, bothdaily sacrifices and freewill offerings; the oneproceeding upon ordinary observance, the ot-her upon a devout cheerfulness: in like mannerthere belongeth to kings from their servantsboth tribute of duty and presents of affection.In the former of these I hope I shall not live tobe wanting, according to my most humble dutyand the good pleasure of your Majesty’s em-ployments: for the latter, I thought it more re-spective to make choice of some oblation whichmight rather refer to the propriety and excel-lency of your individual person, than to thebusiness of your crown and state.

Wherefore, representing your Majesty many

times unto my mind, and beholding you notwith the inquisitive eye of presumption, to dis-cover that which the Scripture telleth me is in-scrutable, but with the observant eye of dutyand admiration, leaving aside the other parts ofyour virtue and fortune, I have been touched -yea, and possessed - with an extreme wonder atthose your virtues and faculties, which the phi-losophers call intellectual; the largeness of yourcapacity, the faithfulness of your memory, theswiftness of your apprehension, the penetrationof your judgment, and the facility and order ofyour elocution: and I have often thought that ofall the persons living that I have known, yourMajesty were the best instance to make a manof Plato’s opinion, that all knowledge is butremembrance, and that the mind of man byNature knoweth all things, and hath but herown native and original notions (which by thestrangeness and darkness of this tabernacle ofthe body are sequestered) again revived andrestored: such a light of Nature I have observed

in your Majesty, and such a readiness to takeflame and blaze from the least occasion pre-sented, or the least spark of another’s knowl-edge delivered. And as the Scripture saith ofthe wisest king, “That his heart was as thesands of the sea;” which, though it be one of thelargest bodies, yet it consisteth of the smallestand finest portions; so hath God given yourMajesty a composition of understanding admi-rable, being able to compass and comprehendthe greatest matters, and nevertheless to touchand apprehend the least; whereas it shouldseem an impossibility in Nature for the sameinstrument to make itself fit for great and smallworks. And for your gift of speech, I call tomind what Cornelius Tacitus saith of AugustusCæsar: Augusto profluens, et quæ principem de-ceret, eloquentia fuit. For if we note it well,speech that is uttered with labour and diffi-culty, or speech that savoureth of the affecta-tion of art and precepts, or speech that isframed after the imitation of some pattern of

eloquence, though never so excellent; all thishath somewhat servile, and holding of the sub-ject. But your Majesty’s manner of speech is,indeed, prince-like, flowing as from a fountain,and yet streaming and branching itself intoNature’s order, full of facility and felicity, imi-tating none, and inimitable by any. And as inyour civil estate there appeareth to be an emu-lation and contention of your Majesty’s virtuewith your fortune; a virtuous disposition with afortunate regiment; a virtuous expectation(when time was) of your greater fortune, with aprosperous possession thereof in the due time;a virtuous observation of the laws of marriage,with most blessed and happy fruit of marriage;a virtuous and most Christian desire of peace,with a fortunate inclination in your neighbourprinces thereunto: so likewise in these intellec-tual matters there seemeth to be no less conten-tion between the excellency of your Majesty’sgifts of Nature and the universality and perfec-tion of your learning. For I am well assured

that this which I shall say is no amplification atall, but a positive and measured truth; which is,that there hath not been since Christ’s time anyking or temporal monarch which hath been solearned in all literature and erudition, divineand human. For let a man seriously and dili-gently revolve and peruse the succession of theEmperors of Rome, of which Cæsar the Dictator(who lived some years before Christ) and Mar-cus Antoninus were the best learned, and sodescend to the Emperors of Græcia, or of theWest, and then to the lines of France, Spain,England, Scotland, and the rest, and he shallfind this judgment is truly made. For it see-meth much in a king if, by the compendiousextractions of other men’s wits and labours, hecan take hold of any superficial ornaments andshows of learning, or if he countenance andprefer learning and learned men; but to drink,indeed, of the true fountains of learning - nay,to have such a fountain of learning in himself,in a king, and in a king born - is almost a mira-

cle. And the more, because there is met in yourMajesty a rare conjunction, as well of divineand sacred literature as of profane and human;so as your Majesty standeth invested of thattriplicity, which in great veneration was as-cribed to the ancient Hermes: the power andfortune of a king, the knowledge and illumina-tion of a priest, and the learning and universal-ity of a philosopher. This propriety inherentand individual attribute in your Majesty de-serveth to be expressed not only in the fameand admiration of the present time, nor in thehistory or tradition of the ages succeeding, butalso in some solid work, fixed memorial, andimmortal monument, bearing a character orsignature both of the power of a king and thedifference and perfection of such a king.

Therefore I did conclude with myself that Icould not make unto your Majesty a better ob-lation than of some treatise tending to that end,whereof the sum will consist of these two parts:

the former concerning the excellency of learn-ing and knowledge, and the excellency of themerit and true glory in the augmentation andpropagation thereof; the latter, what the par-ticular acts and works are which have beenembraced and undertaken for the advancementof learning; and again, what defects and un-dervalues I find in such particular acts: to theend that though I cannot positively or affirma-tively advise your Majesty, or propound untoyou framed particulars, yet I may excite yourprincely cogitations to visit the excellent treas-ure of your own mind, and thence to extractparticulars for this purpose agreeable to yourmagnanimity and wisdom.

I. (1) In the entrance to the former of these - toclear the way and, as it were, to make silence,to have the true testimonies concerning thedignity of learning to be better heard, withoutthe interruption of tacit objections - I thinkgood to deliver it from the discredits and dis-

graces which it hath received, all from igno-rance, but ignorance severally disguised; ap-pearing sometimes in the zeal and jealousy ofdivines, sometimes in the severity and arro-gancy of politics, and sometimes in the errorsand imperfections of learned men themselves.

(2) I hear the former sort say that knowledge isof those things which are to be accepted of withgreat limitation and caution; that the aspiringto overmuch knowledge was the original temp-tation and sin whereupon ensued the fall ofman; that knowledge hath in it somewhat ofthe serpent, and, therefore, where it enterethinto a man it makes him swell; Scientia inflat;that Solomon gives a censure, “That there is noend of making books, and that much reading isweariness of the flesh;” and again in anotherplace, “That in spacious knowledge there ismuch contristation, and that he that increasethknowledge increaseth anxiety;” that Saint Paulgives a caveat, “That we be not spoiled through

vain philosophy;” that experience demonstrateshow learned men have been arch-heretics, howlearned times have been inclined to atheism,and how the contemplation of second causesdoth derogate from our dependence upon God,who is the first cause.

(3) To discover, then, the ignorance and error ofthis opinion, and the misunderstanding in thegrounds thereof, it may well appear these mendo not observe or consider that it was not thepure knowledge of Nature and universality, aknowledge by the light whereof man did givenames unto other creatures in Paradise as theywere brought before him according unto theirproprieties, which gave the occasion to the fall;but it was the proud knowledge of good andevil, with an intent in man to give law untohimself, and to depend no more upon God’scommandments, which was the form of thetemptation. Neither is it any quantity of know-ledge, how great soever, that can make the

mind of man to swell; for nothing can fill, muchless extend the soul of man, but God and thecontemplation of God; and, therefore, Solomon,speaking of the two principal senses of inquisi-tion, the eye and the ear, affirmeth that the eyeis never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear withhearing; and if there be no fulness, then is thecontinent greater than the content: so of knowl-edge itself and the mind of man, whereto thesenses are but reporters, he defineth likewise inthese words, placed after that calendar or ep-hemerides which he maketh of the diversitiesof times and seasons for all actions and pur-poses, and concludeth thus: “God hath madeall things beautiful, or decent, in the true returnof their seasons. Also He hath placed the worldin man’s heart, yet cannot man find out thework which God worketh from the beginningto the end” - declaring not obscurely that Godhath framed the mind of man as a mirror orglass, capable of the image of the universalworld, and joyful to receive the impression

thereof, as the eye joyeth to receive light; andnot only delighted in beholding the variety ofthings and vicissitude of times, but raised alsoto find out and discern the ordinances and de-crees which throughout all those changes areinfallibly observed. And although he doth in-sinuate that the supreme or summary law ofNature (which he calleth “the work which Godworketh from the beginning to the end”) is notpossible to be found out by man, yet that dothnot derogate from the capacity of the mind; butmay be referred to the impediments, as ofshortness of life, ill conjunction of labours, illtradition of knowledge over from hand tohand, and many other inconveniences, where-unto the condition of man is subject. For thatnothing parcel of the world is denied to man’sinquiry and invention, he doth in another placerule over, when he saith, “The spirit of man isas the lamp of God, wherewith He searcheththe inwardness of all secrets.” If, then, such bethe capacity and receipt of the mind of man, it

is manifest that there is no danger at all in theproportion or quantity of knowledge, howlarge soever, lest it should make it swell or out-compass itself; no, but it is merely the quality ofknowledge, which, be it in quantity more orless, if it be taken without the true correctivethereof, hath in it some nature of venom or ma-lignity, and some effects of that venom, whichis ventosity or swelling. This corrective spice,the mixture whereof maketh knowledge sosovereign, is charity, which the Apostle imme-diately addeth to the former clause; for so hesaith, “Knowledge bloweth up, but charitybuildeth up;” not unlike unto that which hedeilvereth in another place: “If I spake,” saithhe, “with the tongues of men and angels, andhad not charity, it were but as a tinkling cym-bal.” Not but that it is an excellent thing tospeak with the tongues of men and angels, butbecause, if it be severed from charity, and notreferred to the good of men and mankind, ithath rather a sounding and unworthy glory

than a meriting and substantial virtue. And asfor that censure of Solomon concerning the ex-cess of writing and reading books, and theanxiety of spirit which redoundeth fromknowledge, and that admonition of St. Paul,“That we be not seduced by vain philosophy,”let those places be rightly understood; and theydo, indeed, excellently set forth the true boundsand limitations whereby human knowledge isconfined and circumscribed, and yet withoutany such contracting or coarctation, but that itmay comprehend all the universal nature ofthings; for these limitations are three: the first,“That we do not so place our felicity in knowl-edge, as we forget our mortality;” the second,“That we make application of our knowledge,to give ourselves repose and contentment, andnot distaste or repining;” the third, “That we donot presume by the contemplation of Nature toattain to the mysteries of God.” For as touch-ing the first of these, Solomon doth excellentlyexpound himself in another place of the same

book, where he saith: “I saw well that knowl-edge recedeth as far from ignorance as lightdoth from darkness; and that the wise man’seyes keep watch in his head, whereas this foolroundeth about in darkness: but withal Ilearned that the same mortality involveth themboth.” And for the second, certain it is there isno vexation or anxiety of mind which resultethfrom knowledge otherwise than merely by ac-cident; for all knowledge and wonder (which isthe seed of knowledge) is an impression ofpleasure in itself; but when men fall to framingconclusions out of their knowledge, applying itto their particular, and ministering to them-selves thereby weak fears or vast desires, theregroweth that carefulness and trouble of mindwhich is spoken of; for then knowledge is nomore Lumen siccum, whereof Heraclitus theprofound said, Lumen siccum optima anima; butit becometh Lumen madidum, or maceratum, be-ing steeped and infused in the humours of theaffections. And as for the third point, it de-

serveth to be a little stood upon, and not to belightly passed over; for if any man shall thinkby view and inquiry into these sensible andmaterial things to attain that light, whereby hemay reveal unto himself the nature or will ofGod, then, indeed, is he spoiled by vain phi-losophy; for the contemplation of God’s crea-tures and works produceth (having regard tothe works and creatures themselves) knowl-edge, but having regard to God no perfectknowledge, but wonder, which is brokenknowledge. And, therefore, it was most aptlysaid by one of Plato’s school, “That the sense ofman carrieth a resemblance with the sun, which(as we see) openeth and revealeth all the terres-trial globe; but then, again, it obscureth andconcealeth the stars and celestial globe: so doththe sense discover natural things, but it dark-eneth and shutteth up divine.” And hence it istrue that it hath proceeded, that divers greatlearned men have been heretical, whilst theyhave sought to fly up to the secrets of the Deity

by this waxen wings of the senses. And as forthe conceit that too much knowledge shouldincline a man to atheism, and that the igno-rance of second causes should make a moredevout dependence upon God, which is thefirst cause; first, it is good to ask the questionwhich Job asked of his friends: “Will you lie forGod, as one man will lie for another, to gratifyhim?” For certain it is that God worketh noth-ing in Nature but by second causes; and if theywould have it otherwise believed, it is mereimposture, as it were in favour towards God,and nothing else but to offer to the Author oftruth the unclean sacrifice of a lie. But further,it is an assured truth, and a conclusion of ex-perience, that a little or superficial knowledgeof philosophy may incline the mind of men toatheism, but a further proceeding therein dothbring the mind back again to religion. For inthe entrance of philosophy, when the secondcauses, which are next unto the senses, do offerthemselves to the mind of man, if it dwell and

stay there it may induce some oblivion of thehighest cause; but when a man passeth on fur-ther and seeth the dependence of causes andthe works of Providence; then, according to theallegory of the poets, he will easily believe thatthe highest link of Nature’s chain must needshe tied to the foot of Jupiter’s chair. To con-clude, therefore, let no man upon a weak con-ceit of sobriety or an ill-applied moderationthink or maintain that a man can search too far,or be too well studied in the book of God’sword, or in the book of God’s works, divinityor philosophy; but rather let men endeavour anendless progress or proficience in both; only letmen beware that they apply both to charity,and not to swelling; to use, and not to ostenta-tion; and again, that they do not unwisely min-gle or confound these learnings together.

II. (1) And as for the disgraces which learningreceiveth from politics, they be of this nature:that learning doth soften men’s minds, and

makes them more unapt for the honour andexercise of arms; that it doth mar and pervertmen’s dispositions for matter of governmentand policy, in making them too curious andirresolute by variety of reading, or too peremp-tory or positive by strictness of rules and axi-oms, or too immoderate and overweening byreason of the greatness of examples, or too in-compatible and differing from the times byreason of the dissimilitude of examples; or atleast, that it doth divert men’s travails fromaction and business, and bringeth them to alove of leisure and privateness; and that it dothbring into states a relaxation of discipline,whilst every man is more ready to argue thanto obey and execute. Out of this conceit Cato,surnamed the Censor, one of the wisest menindeed that ever lived, when Carneades thephilosopher came in embassage to Rome, andthat the young men of Rome began to flockabout him, being allured with the sweetnessand majesty of his eloquence and learning, ga-

ve counsel in open senate that they should givehim his despatch with all speed, lest he shouldinfect and enchant the minds and affections ofthe youth, and at unawares bring in an altera-tion of the manners and customs of the state.Out of the same conceit or humour did Virgil,turning his pen to the advantage of his countryand the disadvantage of his own profession,make a kind of separation between policy andgovernment, and between arts and sciences, inthe verses so much renowned, attributing andchallenging the one to the Romans, and leavingand yielding the other to the Grecians: Tu regereimperio popules, Romane, memento, Hæ tibi eruntartes, &c. So likewise we see that Anytus, theaccuser of Socrates, laid it as an article of chargeand accusation against him, that he did, withthe variety and power of his discourses anddisputatious, withdraw young men from duereverence to the laws and customs of theircountry, and that he did profess a dangerousand pernicious science, which was to make the

worse matter seem the better, and to suppresstruth by force of eloquence and speech.

(2) But these and the like imputations have rat-her a countenance of gravity than any groundof justice: for experience doth warrant that,both in persons and in times, there hath been ameeting and concurrence in learning and arms,flourishing and excelling in the same men andthe same ages. For as ‘for men, there cannot bea better nor the hike instance as of that pair,Alexander the Great and Julius Cæsar, the Dic-tator; whereof the one was Aristotle’s scholar inphilosophy, and the other was Cicero’s rival ineloquence; or if any man had rather call forscholars that were great generals, than generalsthat were great scholars, let him take Epami-nondas the Theban, or Xenophon the Athenian;whereof the one was the first that abated thepower of Sparta, and the other was the first thatmade way to the overthrow of the monarchy ofPersia. And this concurrence is yet more visi-

ble in times than in persons, by how much anage is greater object than a man. For both inEgypt, Assyria, Persia, Græcia, and Rome, thesame times that are most renowned for armsare, likewise, most admired for learning, so thatthe greatest authors and philosophers, and thegreatest captains and governors, have lived inthe same ages. Neither can it otherwise he: foras in man the ripeness of strength of the bodyand mind cometh much about an age, save thatthe strength of the body cometh somewhat themore early, so in states, arms and learning,whereof the one correspondeth to the body, theother to the soul of man, have a concurrence ornear sequence in times.

(3) And for matter of policy and government,that learning, should rather hurt, than enablethereunto, is a thing very improbable; we see itis accounted an error to commit a natural bodyto empiric physicians, which commonly have afew pleasing receipts whereupon they are con-

fident and adventurous, but know neither thecauses of diseases, nor the complexions of pa-tients, nor peril of accidents, nor the true met-hod of cures; we see it is a like error to relyupon advocates or lawyers which are only menof practice, and not grounded in their books,who are many times easily surprised whenmatter falleth out besides their experience, tothe prejudice of the causes they handle: so bylike reason it cannot be but a matter of doubtfulconsequence if states be managed by empiricstatesmen, not well mingled with men groun-ded in learning. But contrariwise, it is almostwithout instance contradictory that ever anygovernment was disastrous that was in thehands of learned governors. For howsoever ithath been ordinary with politic men to extenu-ate and disable learned men by the names ofpedantes; yet in the records of time it appearethin many particulars that the governments ofprinces in minority (notwithstanding the infi-nite disadvantage of that kind of state) - have

nevertheless excelled the government of prin-ces of mature age, even for that reason whichthey seek to traduce, which is that by that occa-sion the state hath been in the hands of ped-antes: for so was the state of Rome for the firstfive years, which are so much magnified, dur-ing the minority of Nero, in the hands of Se-neca, a pedenti; so it was again, for ten years’space or more, during the minority of Gor-dianus the younger, with great applause andcontentation in the hands of Misitheus, a ped-anti: so was it before that, in the minority ofAlexander Severus, in like happiness, in handsnot much unlike, by reason of the rule of thewomen, who were aided by the teachers andpreceptors. Nay, let a man look into the gov-ernment of the Bishops of Rome, as by name,into the government of Pius Quintus and Sex-tus Quintus in our times, who were both attheir entrance esteemed but as pedantical friars,and he shall find that such Popes do greaterthings, and proceed upon truer principles of

state, than those which have ascended to thepapacy from an education and breeding in af-fairs of state and courts of princes; for althoughmen bred in learning are perhaps to seek inpoints of convenience and accommodating forthe present, which the Italians call ragioni distato, whereof the same Pius Quintus could nothear spoken with patience, terming them in-ventions against religion and the moral virtues;yet on the other side, to recompense that, theyare perfect in those same plain grounds of relig-ion, justice, honour, and moral virtue, which ifthey be well and watchfully pursued, there willbe seldom use of those other, no more than ofphysic in a sound or well-dieted body. Neithercan the experience of one man’s life furnishexamples and precedents for the event of oneman’s life. For as it happeneth sometimes thatthe grandchild, or other descendant, resem-bleth the ancestor more than the son; so manytimes occurrences of present times may sortbetter with ancient examples than with those of

the later or immediate times; and lastly, the witof one man can no more countervail learningthan one man’s means can hold way with acommon purse.

(4) And as for those particular seducements orindispositions of the mind for policy and gov-ernment, which learning is pretended to in-sinuate; if it be granted that any such thing be,it must be remembered withal that learningministereth in every of them greater strength ofmedicine or remedy than it offereth cause ofindisposition or infirmity. For if by a secretoperation it make men perplexed and irreso-lute, on the other side by plain precept itteacheth them when and upon what ground toresolve; yea, and how to carry things in sus-pense, without prejudice, till they resolve. If itmake men positive and regular, it teacheththem what things are in their nature demon-strative, and what are conjectural, and as wellthe use of distinctions and exceptions, as the

latitude of principles and rules. If it mislead bydisproportion or dissimilitude of examples, itteacheth men the force of circumstances, theerrors of comparisons, and all the cautions ofapplication; so that in all these it doth rectifymore effectually than it can pervert. And thesemedicines it conveyeth into men’s minds muchmore forcibly by the quickness and penetrationof examples. For let a man look into the errorsof Clement VII., so lively described by Guicci-ardini, who served under him, or into the er-rors of Cicero, painted out by his own pencil inhis Epistles to Atticus, and he will fly apacefrom being irresolute. Let him look into theerrors of Phocion, and he will beware how hebe obstinate or inflexible. Let him but read thefable of Ixion, and it will hold him from beingvaporous or imaginative. Let him look into theerrors of Cato II., and he will never be one ofthe Antipodes, to tread opposite to the presentworld.

(5) And for the conceit that learning shoulddispose men to leisure and privateness, andmake men slothful: it were a strange thing ifthat which accustometh the mind to a perpetualmotion and agitation should induce slothful-ness, whereas, contrariwise, it may be trulyaffirmed that no kind of men love business foritself but those that are learned; for other per-sons love it for profit, as a hireling that lovesthe work for the wages; or for honour, as be-cause it beareth them up in the eyes of men,and refresheth their reputation, which other-wise would wear; or because it putteth them inmind of their fortune, and giveth them occasionto pleasure and displeasure; or because it exer-ciseth some faculty wherein they take pride,and so entertaineth them in good-humour andpleasing conceits towards themselves; or be-cause it advanceth any other their ends. So thatas it is said of untrue valours, that some men’svalours are in the eyes of them that look on, sosuch men’s industries are in the eyes of others,

or, at least, in regard of their own designments;only learned men love business as an actionaccording to nature, as agreeable to health ofmind as exercise is to health of body, takingpleasure in the action itself, and not in the pur-chase, so that of all men they are the most inde-fatigable, if it be towards any business whichcan hold or detain their mind.

(6) And if any man be laborious in reading andstudy, and yet idle in business and action, itgroweth from some weakness of body or soft-ness of spirit, such as Seneca speaketh of: Qui-dam tam sunt umbratiles, ut putent in turbido essequicquid in luce est; and not of learning: wellmay it be that such a point of a man’s naturemay make him give himself to learning, but it isnot learning that breedeth any such point in hisnature.

(7) And that learning should take up too muchtime or leisure: I answer, the most active or

busy man that hath been or can be, hath (noquestion) many vacant times of leisure while heexpecteth the tides and returns of business (ex-cept he be either tedious and of no despatch, orlightly and unworthily ambitious to meddle inthings that may be better done by others), andthen the question is but how those spaces andtimes of leisure shall be filled and spent; whet-her in pleasure or in studies; as was well an-swered by Demosthenes to his adversaryÆschines, that was a man given to pleasure,and told him “That his orations did smell of thelamp.” “Indeed,” said Demosthenes, “there is agreat difference between the things that youand I do by lamp-light.” So as no man needdoubt that learning will expel business, butrather it will keep and defend the possession ofthe mind against idleness and pleasure, whichotherwise at unawares may enter to the preju-dice of both.

(8) Again, for that other conceit that learning

should undermine the reverence of laws andgovernment, it is assuredly a mere depravationand calumny, without all shadow of truth. Forto say that a blind custom of obedience shouldbe a surer obligation than duty taught and un-derstood, it is to affirm that a blind man maytread surer by a guide than a seeing man can bya light. And it is without all controversy thatlearning doth make the minds of men gentle,generous, manageable, and pliant to govern-ment; whereas ignorance makes them churlish,thwart, and mutinous: and the evidence of timedoth clear this assertion, considering that themost barbarous, rude, and unlearned timeshave been most subject to tumults, seditious,and changes.

(9) And as to the judgment of Cato the Censor,he was well punished for his blasphemyagainst learning, in the same kind wherein heoffended; for when he was past threescoreyears old, he was taken with an extreme desire

to go to school again, and to learn the Greektongue, to the end to peruse the Greek authors;which doth well demonstrate that his formercensure of the Grecian learning was rather anaffected gravity, than according to the inwardsense of his own opinion. And as for Virgil’sverses, though it pleased him to brave theworld in taking to the Romans the art of em-pire, and leaving to others the arts of subjects,yet so much is manifest - that the Romans neverascended to that height of empire till the timethey had ascended to the height of other arts.For in the time of the two first Cæsars, whichhad the art of government in greatest perfec-tion, there lived the best poet, Virgilius Maro;the best historiographer, Titus Livius; the bestantiquary, Marcus Varro; and the best or sec-ond orator, Marcus Cicero, that to the memoryof man are known. As for the accusation ofSocrates, the time must be remembered when itwas prosecuted; which was under the ThirtyTyrants, the most base, bloody, and envious

persons that have governed; which revolutionof state was no sooner over but Socrates, whomthey had made a person criminal, was made aperson heroical, and his memory accumulatewith honours divine and human; and thosediscourses of his which were then termed cor-rupting of manners, were after acknowledgedfor sovereign medicines of the mind and man-ners, and so have been received ever since tillthis day. Let this, therefore, serve for answer topolitiques, which in their humorous severity, orin their feigned gravity, have presumed tothrow imputations upon learning; which re-dargution nevertheless (save that we know notwhether our labours may extend to other ages)were not needful for the present, in regard ofthe love and reverence towards learning whichthe example and countenance of two so learnedprinces, Queen Elizabeth and your Majesty,being as Castor and Pollux, lucida sidera, stars ofexcellent light and most benign influence, hathwrought in all men of place and authority in

our nation.

III. (1) Now therefore we come to that third sortof discredit or diminution of credit that gro-weth unto learning from learned men them-selves, which commonly cleaveth fastest: it iseither from their fortune, or from their man-ners, or from the nature of their studies. Forthe first, it is not in their power; and the secondis accidental; the third only is proper to be han-dled: but because we are not in hand with truemeasure, but with popular estimation and con-ceit, it is not amiss to speak somewhat of thetwo former. The derogations therefore whichgrow to learning from the fortune or conditionof learned men, are either in respect of scarcityof means, or in respect of privateness of life andmeanness of employments.

(2) Concerning want, and that it is the case oflearned men usually to begin with little, andnot to grow rich so fast as other men, by reason

they convert not their labours chiefly to lucreand increase, it were good to leave the com-monplace in commendation of povery to somefriar to handle, to whom much was attributedby Machiavel in this point when he said, “Thatthe kingdom of the clergy had been long beforeat an end, if the reputation and reverence to-wards the poverty of friars had not borne outthe scandal of the superfluities and excesses ofbishops and prelates.” So a man might say thatthe felicity and delicacy of princes and greatpersons had long since turned to rudeness andbarbarism, if the poverty of learning had notkept up civility and honour of life; but withoutany such advantages, it is worthy the observa-tion what a reverent and honoured thing pov-erty of fortune was for some ages in the Romanstate, which nevertheless was a state withoutparadoxes. For we see what Titus Livius saithin his introduction: Cæterum aut me amor negotiisuscepti fallit aut nulla unquam respublica nec ma-jor, nec sanctior, nec bonis exemplis ditior fuit; nec

in quam tam sero avaritia luxuriaque immigraver-int; nec ubi tantus ac tam diu paupertati ac parsi-moniæ honos fuerit. We see likewise, after thatthe state of Rome was not itself, but did degen-erate, how that person that took upon him to becounsellor to Julius Cæsar after his victorywhere to begin his restoration of the state,maketh it of all points the most summary totake away the estimation of wealth: Verum hæcet omnia mala pariter cum honore pecuniæ desinent;si neque magistratus, neque alia vulgo cupienda,venalia erunt. To conclude this point: as it wastruly said that Paupertas est virtutis fortuna,though sometimes it come from vice, so it maybe fitly said that, though some times it mayproceed from misgovernment and accident.Surely Solomon hath pronounced it both incensure, Qui festinat ad divitias non erit insons;and in precept, “Buy the truth, and sell it not;and so of wisdom and knowledge;” judgingthat means were to be spent upon learning, andnot learning to be applied to means. And as for

the privateness or obscureness (as it may be invulgar estimation accounted) of life of contem-plative men, it is a theme so common to extol aprivate life, not taxed with sensuality and sloth,in comparison and to the disadvantage of acivil life, for safety, liberty, pleasure, and dig-nity, or at least freedom from indignity, as noman handleth it but handleth it well; such aconsonancy it hath to men’s conceits in the ex-pressing, and to men’s consents in the allow-ing. This only I will add, that learned men for-gotten in states and not living in the eyes ofmen, are like the images of Cassius and Brutusin the funeral of Junia, of which, not being rep-resented as many others were, Tacitus saith, Eoipso præfulgebant quod non visebantur.

(3) And for meanness of employment, thatwhich is most traduced to contempt is that thegovernment of youth is commonly allotted tothem; which age, because it is the age of leastauthority, it is transferred to the disesteeming

of those employments wherein youth is con-versant, and which are conversant aboutyouth. But how unjust this traducement is (ifyou will reduce things from popularity of opin-ion to measure of reason) may appear in thatwe see men are more curious what they putinto a new vessel than into a vessel seasoned;and what mould they lay about a young plantthan about a plant corroborate; so as this weak-est terms and times of all things use to have thebest applications and helps. And will youhearken to the Hebrew rabbins? “Your youngmen shall see visions, and your old men shalldream dreams:” say they, youth is the worthierage, for that visions are nearer apparitions ofGod than dreams? And let it be noted thathowsoever the condition of life of pedantes hathbeen scorned upon theatres, as the ape of tyr-anny; and that the modern looseness or negli-gence hath taken no due regard to the choice ofschoolmasters and tutors; yet the ancient wis-dom of the best times did always make a just

complaint, that states were too busy with theirlaws and too negligent in point of education:which excellent part of ancient discipline hathbeen in some sort revived of late times by thecolleges of the Jesuits; of whom, although inregard of their superstition I may say, Quo meli-ores, eo deteriores; yet in regard of this, and someother points concerning human learning andmoral matters, I may say, as Agesilaus said tohis enemy Pharnabazus, Talis quum sis, utunamnoster esses. And that much touching the dis-credits drawn from the fortunes of learnedmen.

(4) As touching the manners of learned men, itis a thing personal and individual: and nodoubt there be amongst them, as in other pro-fessions, of all temperatures: but yet so as it isnot without truth which is said, that Abeuntstudua in mores, studies have an influence andoperation upon the manners of those that areconversant in them.

(5) But upon an attentive and indifferent re-view, I for my part cannot find any disgrace tolearning can proceed from the manners of lear-ned men; not inherent to them as they are lear-ned; except it be a fault (which was the sup-posed fault of Demosthenes, Cicero, Cato II.,Seneca, and many more) that because the timesthey read of are commonly better than the ti-mes they live in, and the duties taught betterthan the duties practised, they contend some-times too far to bring things to perfection, andto reduce the corruption of manners to honestyof precepts or examples of too great height.And yet hereof they have caveats enough intheir own walks. For Solon, when he was as-ked whether he had given his citizens the bestlaws, answered wisely, “Yea, of such as theywould receive:” and Plato, finding that his ownheart could not agree with the corrupt mannersof his country, refused to bear place or office,saying, “That a man’s country was to be used

as his parents were, that is, with humble per-suasions, and not with contestations.” AndCæsar’s counsellor put in the same caveat, Nonad vetera instituta revocans quæ jampridem corrup-tis moribus ludibrio sunt; and Cicero noteth thiserror directly in Cato II. when he writes to hisfriend Atticus, Cato optime sentit, sed nocet inter-dum reipublicæ; loquitur enim tanquam in republicâPlatonis, non tanquam in fæce Romuli. And thesame Cicero doth excuse and expound the phi-losophers for going too far and being too exactin their prescripts when he saith, Isti ipsepræceptores virtutis et magistri videntur fines offi-ciorum paulo longius quam natura vellet protulisse,ut cum ad ultimum animo contendissemus, ibi ta-men, ubi oportet, consisteremus: and yet himselfmight have said, Monitis sum minor ipse meis; forit was his own fault, though not in so extreme adegree.

(6) Another fault likewise much of this kindhath been incident to learned men, which is,

that they have esteemed the preservation,good, and honour of their countries or mastersbefore their own fortunes or safeties. For sosaith Demosthenes unto the Athenians: “If itplease you to note it, my counsels unto you arenot such whereby I should grow great amongstyou, and you become little amongst the Gre-cians; but they be of that nature as they are so-metimes not good for me to give, but are al-ways good for you to follow.” And so Seneca,after he had consecrated that QuinquenniumNeronis to the eternal glory of learned gover-nors, held on his honest and loyal course ofgood and free counsel after his master grewextremely corrupt in his government. Neithercan this point otherwise be, for learning en-dueth men’s minds with a true sense of thefrailty of their persons, the casualty of theirfortunes, and the dignity of their soul and voca-tion, so that it is impossible for them to esteemthat any greatness of their own fortune can be atrue or worthy end of their being and ordain-

ment, and therefore are desirous to give theiraccount to God, and so likewise to their mastersunder God (as kings and the states that theyserve) in those words, Ecce tibi lucrefeci, and notEcce mihi lucrefeci; whereas the corrupter sort ofmere politiques, that have not their thoughtsestablished by learning in the love and appre-hension of duty, nor never look abroad intouniversality, do refer all things to themselves,and thrust themselves into the centre of theworld, as if all lines should meet in them andtheir fortunes, never caring in all tempests whatbecomes of the ship of state, so they may savethemselves in the cockboat of their own for-tune; whereas men that feel the weight of dutyand know the limits of self-love use to makegood their places and duties, though with peril;and if they stand in seditious and violent altera-tions, it is rather the reverence which manytimes both adverse parts do give to honesty,than any versatile advantage of their own car-riage. But for this point of tender sense and fast

obligation of duty which learning doth enduethe mind withal, howsoever fortune may tax it,and many in the depth of their corrupt princi-ples may despise it, yet it will receive an openallowance, and therefore needs the less dis-proof or excuse.

(7) Another fault incident commonly to learnedmen, which may be more properly defendedthan truly denied, is that they fail sometimes inapplying themselves to particular persons,which want of exact application ariseth fromtwo causes - the one, because the largeness oftheir mind can hardly confine itself to dwell inthe exquisite observation or examination of thenature and customs of one person, for it is aspeech for a lover, and not for a wise man, Satismagnum alter alteri theatrum sumus. Neverthe-less I shall yield that he that cannot contract thesight of his mind as well as disperse and dilateit, wanteth a great faculty. But there is a secondcause, which is no inability, but a rejection

upon choice and judgment. For the honest andjust bounds of observation by one person uponanother extend no further but to understandhim sufficiently, whereby not to give him of-fence, or whereby to be able to give him faithfulcounsel, or whereby to stand upon reasonableguard and caution in respect of a man’s self.But to be speculative into another man to theend to know how to work him, or wind him, orgovern him, proceedeth from a heart that isdouble and cloven, and not entire and ingenu-ous; which as in friendship it is want of integ-rity, so towards princes or superiors is want ofduty. For the custom of the Levant, which isthat subjects do forbear to gaze or fix their eyesupon princes, is in the outward ceremony bar-barous, but the moral is good; for men oughtnot, by cunning and bent observations, topierce and penetrate into the hearts of kings,which the Scripture hath declared to be inscru-table.

(8) There is yet another fault (with which I willconclude this part) which is often noted in lear-ned men, that they do many times fail to ob-serve decency and discretion in their behaviourand carriage, and commit errors in small andordinary points of action, so as the vulgar sortof capacities do make a judgment of them ingreater matters by that which they find want-ing in them in smaller. But this consequencedoth oft deceive men, for which I do refer themover to that which was said by Themistocles,arrogantly and uncivilly being applied to him-self out of his own mouth, but, being applied tothe general state of this question, pertinentlyand justly, when, being invited to touch a lute,he said, “He could not fiddle, but he could ma-ke a small town a great state.” So no doubtmany may be well seen in the passages of gov-ernment and policy which are to seek in littleand punctual occasions. I refer them also tothat which Plato said of his master Socrates,whom he compared to the gallipots of apothe-

caries, which on the outside had apes and owlsand antiques, but contained within sovereignand precious liquors and confections; acknowl-edging that, to an external report, he was notwithout superficial levities and deformities, butwas inwardly replenished with excellent vir-tues and powers. And so much touching thepoint of manners of learned men.

(9) But in the meantime I have no purpose togive allowance to some conditions and coursesbase and unworthy, wherein divers professorsof learning have wronged themselves and gonetoo far; such as were those trencher philoso-phers which in the later age of the Roman statewere usually in the houses of great persons,being little better than solemn parasites, ofwhich kind, Lucian maketh a merry descriptionof the philosopher that the great lady took toride with her in her coach, and would needshave him carry her little dog, which he doingofficiously and yet uncomely, the page scoffed

and said, “That he doubted the philosopher of aStoic would turn to be a Cynic.” But, above allthe rest, this gross and palpable flattery where-unto many not unlearned have abased andabused their wits and pens, turning (as Du Bar-tas saith) Hecuba into Helena, and Faustinainto Lucretia, hath most diminished the priceand estimation of learning. Neither is the mod-ern dedication of books and writings, as to pa-trons, to be commended, for that books (such asare worthy the name of books) ought to haveno patrons but truth and reason. And the an-cient custom was to dedicate them only to pri-vate and equal friends, or to entitle the bookswith their names; or if to kings and great per-sons, it was to some such as the argument ofthe book was fit and proper for; but these andthe like courses may deserve rather reprehen-sion than defence.

(10) Not that I can tax or condemn the morig-eration or application of learned men to men in

fortune. For the answer was good that Dio-genes made to one that asked him in mockery,“How it came to pass that philosophers werethe followers of rich men, and not rich men ofphilosophers?” He answered soberly, and yetsharply, “Because the one sort knew what theyhad need of, and the other did not.” And of thelike nature was the answer which Aristippusmade, when having a petition to Dionysius,and no ear given to him, he fell down at hisfeet, whereupon Dionysius stayed and gavehim the hearing, and granted it; and afterwardssome person, tender on the behalf of philoso-phy, reproved Aristippus that he would offerthe profession of philosophy such an indignityas for a private suit to fall at a tyrant’s feet; buthe answered, “It was not his fault, but it wasthe fault of Dionysius, that had his ears in hisfeet.” Neither was it accounted weakness, butdiscretion, in him that would not dispute hisbest with Adrianus Cæsar, excusing himself,“That it was reason to yield to him that com-

manded thirty legions.” These and the like,applications, and stooping to points of neces-sity and convenience, cannot be disallowed; forthough they may have some outward baseness,yet in a judgment truly made they are to beaccounted submissions to the occasion and notto the person.

IV. (1) Now I proceed to those errors and vani-ties which have intervened amongst the studiesthemselves of the learned, which is that whichis principal and proper to the present argu-ment; wherein my purpose is not to make ajustification of the errors, but by a censure andseparation of the errors to make a justificationof that which is good and sound, and to deliverthat from the aspersion of the other. For we seethat it is the manner of men to scandalise anddeprave that which retaineth the state and vir-tue, by taking advantage upon that which iscorrupt and degenerate, as the heathens in theprimitive Church used to blemish and taint the

Christians with the faults and corruptions ofheretics. But nevertheless I have no meaning atthis time to make any exact animadversion ofthe errors and impediments in matters of learn-ing, which are more secret and remote fromvulgar opinion, but only to speak unto such asdo fall under or near unto a popular observa-tion.

(2) There be therefore chiefly three vanities instudies, whereby learning hath been most tra-duced. For those things we do esteem vainwhich are either false or frivolous, those whicheither have no truth or no use; and those per-sons we esteem vain which are either credulousor curious; and curiosity is either in matter orwords: so that in reason as well as in experiencethere fall out to be these three distempers (as Imay term them) of learning - the first, fantasti-cal learning; the second, contentious learning;and the last, delicate learning; vain imagina-tions, vain altercations, and vain affectations;

and with the last I will begin. Martin Luther,conducted, no doubt, by a higher Providence,but in discourse of reason, finding what a prov-ince he had undertaken against the Bishop ofRome and the degenerate traditions of theChurch, and finding his own solitude, being innowise aided by the opinions of his own time,was enforced to awake all antiquity, and to callformer times to his succours to make a partyagainst the present time. So that the ancientauthors, both in divinity and in humanity,which had long time slept in libraries, begangenerally to be read and revolved. This, byconsequence, did draw on a necessity of a moreexquisite travail in the languages original, whe-rein those authors did write, for the better un-derstanding of those authors, and the betteradvantage of pressing and applying theirwords. And thereof grew, again, a delight intheir manner of style and phrase, and an admi-ration of that kind of writing, which was muchfurthered and precipitated by the enmity and

opposition that the propounders of thoseprimitive but seeming new opinions hadagainst the schoolmen, who were generally ofthe contrary part, and whose writings werealtogether in a differing style and form; takingliberty to coin and frame new terms of art toexpress their own sense, and to avoid circuit ofspeech, without regard to the pureness, pleas-antness, and (as I may call it) lawfulness of thephrase or word. And again, because the greatlabour then was with the people (of whom thePharisees were wont to say, Execrabilis istaturba, quæ non novit legem), for the winning andpersuading of them, there grew of necessity inchief price and request eloquence and varietyof discourse, as the fittest and forciblest accessinto the capacity of the vulgar sort; so that thesefour causes concurring - the admiration of an-cient authors, the hate of the schoolmen, theexact study of languages, and the efficacy ofpreaching - did bring in an affectionate study ofeloquence and copy of speech, which then be-

gan to flourish. This grew speedily to an ex-cess; for men began to hunt more after wordsthan matter - more after the choiceness of thephrase, and the round and clean composition ofthe sentence, and the sweet falling of the clau-ses, and the varying and illustration of theirworks with tropes and figures, than after theweight of matter, worth of subject, soundnessof argument, life of invention, or depth ofjudgment. Then grew the flowing and wateryvein of Osorius, the Portugal bishop, to be inprice. Then did Sturmius spend such infiniteand curious pains upon Cicero the Orator andHermogenes the Rhetorician, besides his ownbooks of Periods and Imitation, and the like.Then did Car of Cambridge and Ascham withtheir lectures and writings almost deify Ciceroand Demosthenes, and allure all young menthat were studious unto that delicate and pol-ished kind of learning. Then did Erasmus takeoccasion to make the scoffing echo, Decem annosconsuumpsi in legendo Cicerone; and the echo

answered in Greek, One, Asine. Then grew thelearning of the schoolmen to be utterly de-spised as barbarous. In sum, the whole inclina-tion and bent of those times was rather towardscopy than weight.

(3) Here therefore [is] the first distemper oflearning, when men study words and not mat-ter; whereof, though I have represented an ex-ample of late times, yet it hath been and will besecundum majus et minus in all time. And howis it possible but this should have an operationto discredit learning, even with vulgar capaci-ties, when they see learned men’s works likethe first letter of a patent or limited book,which though it hath large flourishes, yet it isbut a letter? It seems to me that Pygmalion’sfrenzy is a good emblem or portraiture of thisvanity; for words are but the images of matter,and except they have life of reason and inven-tion, to fall in love with them is all one as to fallin love with a picture.

(4) But yet notwithstanding it is a thing nothastily to be condemned, to clothe and adornthe obscurity even of philosophy itself withsensible and plausible elocution. For hereof wehave great examples in Xenophon, Cicero, Se-neca, Plutarch, and of Plato also in some de-gree; and hereof likewise there is great use, forsurely, to the severe inquisition of truth and thedeep progress into philosophy, it is some hin-drance because it is too early satisfactory to themind of man, and quencheth the desire of fur-ther search before we come to a just period.But then if a man be to have any use of suchknowledge in civil occasions, of conference,counsel, persuasion, discourse, or the like, thenshall he find it prepared to his hands in thoseauthors which write in that manner. But theexcess of this is so justly contemptible, that asHercules, when he saw the image of Adonis,Venus’ minion, in a temple, said in disdain, Nilsacri es; so there is none of Hercules’ followers

in learning - that is, the more severe and labori-ous sort of inquirers into truth - but will de-spise those delicacies and affectations, as in-deed capable of no divineness. And thus muchof the first disease or distemper of learning.

(5) The second which followeth is in natureworse than the former: for as substance of mat-ter is better than beauty of words, so contrari-wise vain matter is worse than vain words:wherein it seemeth the reprehension of St. Paulwas not only proper for those times, but pro-phetical for the times following; and not onlyrespective to divinity, but extensive to allknowledge: Devita profanas vocum novitates, etoppositiones falsi nominis scientiæ. For he assig-neth two marks and badges of suspected andfalsified science: the one, the novelty and stran-geness of terms; the other, the strictness of posi-tions, which of necessity doth induce opposi-tions, and so questions and altercations. Sure-ly, like as many substances in nature which are

solid do putrefy and corrupt into worms; - so itis the property of good and sound knowledgeto putrefy and dissolve into a number of subtle,idle, unwholesome, and (as I may term them)vermiculate questions, which have indeed akind of quickness and life of spirit, but nosoundness of matter or goodness of quality.This kind of degenerate learning did chieflyreign amongst the schoolmen, who havingsharp and strong wits, and abundance of lei-sure, and small variety of reading, but theirwits being shut up in the cells of a few authors(chiefly Aristotle their dictator) as their personswere shut up in the cells of monasteries andcolleges, and knowing little history, either ofnature or time, did out of no great quantity ofmatter and infinite agitation of wit spin outunto us those laborious webs of learning whichare extant in their books. For the wit and mindof man, if it work upon matter, which is thecontemplation of the creatures of God, workethaccording to the stuff and is limited thereby;

but if it work upon itself, as the spider workethhis web, then it is endless, and brings forth in-deed cobwebs of learning, admirable for thefineness of thread and work, but of no sub-stance or profit.

(6) This same unprofitable subtility or curiosityis of two sorts: either in the subject itself thatthey handle, when it is a fruitless speculation orcontroversy (whereof there are no small num-ber both in divinity and philosophy), or in themanner or method of handling of a knowledge,which amongst them was this - upon everyparticular position or assertion to frame objec-tions, and to those objections, solutions; whichsolutions were for the most part not confuta-tions, but distinctions: whereas indeed thestrength of all sciences is, as the strength of theold man’s faggot, in the bond. For the harmonyof a science, supporting each part the other, isand ought to be the true and brief confutationand suppression of all the smaller sort of objec-

tions. But, on the other side, if you take outevery axiom, as the sticks of the faggot, one byone, you may quarrel with them and bendthem and break them at your pleasure: so that,as was said of Seneca, Verborum minutiis rerumfrangit pondera, so a man may truly say of theschoolmen, Quæstionum minutiis scientiarumfrangunt soliditatem. For were it not better for aman in fair room to set up one great light, orbranching candlestick of lights, than to goabout with a small watch-candle into everycorner? And such is their method, that restsnot so much upon evidence of truth proved byarguments, authorities, similitudes, examples,as upon particular confutations and solutionsof every scruple, cavillation, and objection;breeding for the most part one question as fastas it solveth another; even as in the former re-semblance, when you carry the light into onecorner, you darken the rest; so that the fableand fiction of Scylla seemeth to be a lively im-age of this kind of philosophy or knowledge;

which was transformed into a comely virgin forthe upper parts; but then Candida succinctamlatrantibus inguina monstris: so the generalitiesof the schoolmen are for a while good and pro-portionable; but then when you descend intotheir distinctions and decisions, instead of afruitful womb for the use and benefit of man’slife, they end in monstrous altercations andbarking questions. So as it is not possible butthis quality of knowledge must fall under po-pular contempt, the people being apt to con-temn truths upon occasion of controversies andaltercations, and to think they are all out oftheir way which never meet; and when they seesuch digladiation about subtleties, and mattersof no use or moment, they easily fall upon thatjudgment of Dionysius of Syracusa, Verba istasunt senum otiosorum.

(7) Notwithstanding, certain it is that if thoseschoolmen to their great thirst of truth and un-wearied travail of wit had joined variety and

universality of reading and contemplation, theyhad proved excellent lights, to the great ad-vancement of all learning and knowledge; butas they are, they are great undertakers indeed,and fierce with dark keeping. But as in the in-quiry of the divine truth, their pride inclined toleave the oracle of God’s word, and to vanish inthe mixture of their own inventions; so in theinquisition of nature, they ever left the oracle ofGod’s works, and adored the deceiving anddeformed images which the unequal mirror oftheir own minds, or a few received authors orprinciples, did represent unto them. And thusmuch for the second disease of learning.

(8) For the third vice or disease of learning,which concerneth deceit or untruth, it is of allthe rest the foulest; as that which doth destroythe essential form of knowledge, which is noth-ing but a representation of truth: for the truthof being and the truth of knowing are one, dif-fering no more than the direct beam and the

beam reflected. This vice therefore branchethitself into two sorts; delight in deceiving andaptness to be deceived; imposture and credu-lity; which, although they appear to be of a di-verse nature, the one seeming to proceed ofcunning and the other of simplicity, yet cer-tainly they do for the most part concur: for, asthe verse noteth -

“Percontatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est,”

an inquisitive man is a prattler; so upon the likereason a credulous man is a deceiver: as we seeit in fame, that he that will easily believe ru-mours will as easily augment rumours and addsomewhat to them of his own; which Tacituswisely noteth, when he saith, Fingunt simul cre-duntque: so great an affinity hath fiction andbelief.

(9) This facility of credit and accepting or ad-mitting things weakly authorised or warrantedis of two kinds according to the subject: for it iseither a belief of history, or, as the lawyersspeak, matter of fact; or else of matter of art andopinion. As to the former, we see the experi-ence and inconvenience of this error in ecclesi-astical history; which hath too easily receivedand registered reports and narrations of mira-cles wrought by martyrs, hermits, or monks ofthe desert, and other holy men, and their relics,shrines, chapels and images: which thoughthey had a passage for a time by the ignoranceof the people, the superstitious simplicity ofsome and the politic toleration of others hold-ing them but as divine poesies, yet after a pe-riod of time, when the mist began to clear up,they grew to be esteemed but as old wives’ fa-bles, impostures of the clergy, illusions of spir-its, and badges of Antichrist, to the great scan-dal and detriment of religion.

(10) So in natural history, we see there hath notbeen that choice and judgment used as ought tohave been; as may appear in the writings ofPlinius, Cardanus, Albertus, and divers of theArabians, being fraught with much fabulousmatter, a great part not only untried, but noto-riously untrue, to the great derogation of thecredit of natural philosophy with the grave andsober kind of wits: wherein the wisdom andintegrity of Aristotle is worthy to be observed,that, having made so diligent and exquisite ahistory of living creatures, hath mingled it spar-ingly with any vain or feigned matter; and yeton the other side hath cast all prodigious narra-tions, which he thought worthy the recording,into one book, excellently discerning that mat-ter of manifest truth, such whereupon observa-tion and rule was to be built, was not to bemingled or weakened with matter of doubtfulcredit; and yet again, that rarities and reportsthat seem uncredible are not to be suppressedor denied to the memory of men.

(11) And as for the facility of credit which isyielded to arts and opinions, it is likewise oftwo kinds; either when too much belief is at-tributed to the arts themselves, or to certainauthors in any art. The sciences themselves,which have had better intelligence and confed-eracy with the imagination of man than withhis reason, are three in number: astrology,natural magic, and alchemy; of which sciences,nevertheless, the ends or pretences are noble.For astrology pretendeth to discover that corre-spondence or concatenation which is betweenthe superior globe and the inferior; natural ma-gic pretendeth to call and reduce natural phi-losophy from variety of speculations to themagnitude of works; and alchemy pretendethto make separation of all the unlike parts ofbodies which in mixtures of natures are incor-porate. But the derivations and prosecutions tothese ends, both in the theories and in the prac-tices, are full of error and vanity; which the

great professors themselves have sought to veilover and conceal by enigmatical writings, andreferring themselves to auricular traditions andsuch other devices, to save the credit of impos-tures. And yet surely to alchemy this right isdue, that it may be compared to the husband-man whereof Æsop makes the fable; that, whenhe died, told his sons that he had left unto themgold buried underground in his vineyard; andthey digged over all the ground, and gold theyfound none; but by reason of their stirring anddigging the mould about the roots of their vi-nes, they had a great vintage the year follow-ing: so assuredly the search and stir to makegold hath brought to light a great number ofgood and fruitful inventions and experiments,as well for the disclosing of nature as for theuse of man’s life.

(12) And as for the overmuch credit that hathbeen given unto authors in sciences, in makingthem dictators, that their words should stand,

and not consuls, to give advice; the damage isinfinite that sciences have received thereby, asthe principal cause that hath kept them low at astay without growth or advancement. For hen-ce it hath come, that in arts mechanical the firstdeviser comes shortest, and time addeth andperfecteth; but in sciences the first author goethfurthest, and time leeseth and corrupteth. Sowe see artillery, sailing, printing, and the like,were grossly managed at the first, and by timeaccommodated and refined; but contrariwise,the philosophies and sciences of Aristotle, Pla-to, Democritus, Hippocrates, Euclides, Ar-chimedes, of most vigour at the first, and bytime degenerate and imbased: whereof the rea-son is no other, but that in the former manywits and industries have contributed in one;and in the latter many wits and industries havebeen spent about the wit of some one, whommany times they have rather depraved thanillustrated; for, as water will not ascend higherthan the level of the first spring-head from

whence it descendeth, so knowledge derivedfrom Aristotle, and exempted from liberty ofexamination, will not rise again higher than theknowledge of Aristotle. And, therefore, al-though the position be good, Oportet discentemcredere, yet it must be coupled with this, Oportetedoctum judicare; for disciples do owe unto mas-ters only a temporary belief and a suspensionof their own judgment till they be fully in-structed, and not an absolute resignation orperpetual captivity; and therefore, to concludethis point, I will say no more, but so let greatauthors have their due, as time, which is theauthor of authors, be not deprived of his due -which is, further and further to discover truth.Thus have I gone over these three diseases oflearning; besides the which there are someother rather peccant humours than formed dis-eases, which, nevertheless, are not so secret andintrinsic, but that they fall under a popular ob-servation and traducement, and, therefore, arenot to be passed over.

V. (1) The first of these is the extreme affectingof two extremities: the one antiquity, the othernovelty; wherein it seemeth the children of timedo take after the nature and malice of the fa-ther. For as he devoureth his children, so oneof them seeketh to devour and suppress theother; while antiquity envieth there should benew additions, and novelty cannot be contentto add but it must deface; surely the advice ofthe prophet is the true direction in this matter,State super vias antiquas, et videte quænam sit viarecta et bona et ambulate in ea. Antiquity de-serveth that reverence, that men should make astand thereupon and discover what is the bestway; but when the discovery is well taken, thento make progression. And to speak truly, An-tiquitas sæculi juventus mundi. These times arethe ancient times, when the world is ancient,and not those which we account ancient ordineretrogrado, by a computation backward fromourselves.

(2) Another error induced by the former is adistrust that anything should be now to befound out, which the world should have mis-sed and passed over so long time: as if the sameobjection were to be made to time that Lucianmaketh to Jupiter and other the heathen gods;of which he wondereth that they begot so manychildren in old time, and begot none in his ti-me; and asketh whether they were become sep-tuagenary, or whether the law Papia, madeagainst old men’s marriages, had restrainedthem. So it seemeth men doubt lest time is be-come past children and generation; whereincontrariwise we see commonly the levity andunconstancy of men’s judgments, which, till amatter be done, wonder that it can be done; andas soon as it is done, wonder again that it wasno sooner done: as we see in the expedition ofAlexander into Asia, which at first was pre-judged as a vast and impossible enterprise; andyet afterwards it pleaseth Livy to make no

more of it than this, Nil aliud quàm bene aususvana contemnere. And the same happened toColumbus in the western navigation. But inintellectual matters it is much more common,as may be seen in most of the propositions ofEuclid; which till they be demonstrate, theyseem strange to our assent; but being demon-strate, our mind accepteth of them by a kind ofrelation (as the lawyers speak), as if we hadknown them before.

(3) Another error, that hath also some affinitywith the former, is a conceit that of former opi-nions or sects after variety and examination thebest hath still prevailed and suppressed therest; so as if a man should begin the labour of anew search, he were but like to light upon so-mewhat formerly rejected, and by rejectionbrought into oblivion; as if the multitude, or thewisest for the multitude’s sake, were not readyto give passage rather to that which is popularand superficial than to that which is substantial

and profound for the truth is, that time seemethto be of the nature of a river or stream, whichcarrieth down to us that which is light andblown up, and sinketh and drowneth thatwhich is weighty and solid.

(4) Another error, of a diverse nature from allthe former, is the over-early and peremptoryreduction of knowledge into arts and methods;from which time commonly sciences receivesmall or no augmentation. But as young men,when they knit and shape perfectly, do seldomgrow to a further stature, so knowledge, whileit is in aphorisms and observations, it is ingrowth; but when it once is comprehended inexact methods, it may, perchance, be furtherpolished, and illustrate and accommodated foruse and practice, but it increaseth no more inbulk and substance.

(5) Another error which doth succeed thatwhich we last mentioned is, that after the dis-

tribution of particular arts and sciences, menhave abandoned universality, or philosophiaprima, which cannot but cease and stop all pro-gression. For no perfect discovery can be madeupon a flat or a level; neither is it possible todiscover the more remote and deeper parts ofany science if you stand but upon the level ofthe same science, and ascend not to a higherscience.

(6) Another error hath proceeded from toogreat a reverence, and a kind of adoration ofthe mind and understanding of man; by meanswhereof, men have withdrawn themselves toomuch from the contemplation of nature, andthe observations of experience, and have tum-bled up and down in their own reason andconceits. Upon these intellectualists, which arenotwithstanding commonly taken for the mostsublime and divine philosophers, Heraclitusgave a just censure, saying: - “Men sought truthin their own little worlds, and not in the great

and common world;” for they disdain to spell,and so by degrees to read in the volume ofGod’s works; and contrariwise by continualmeditation and agitation of wit do urge and, asit were, invocate their own spirits to divine andgive oracles unto them, whereby they are de-servedly deluded.

(7) Another error that hath some connectionwith this latter is, that men have used to infecttheir meditations, opinions, and doctrines withsome conceits which they have most admired,or some sciences which they have most ap-plied, and given all things else a tincture ac-cording to them, utterly untrue and improper.So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy withtheology, and Aristotle with logic; and the sec-ond school of Plato, Proclus and the rest, withthe mathematics; for these were the arts whichhad a kind of primogeniture with them sever-ally. So have the alchemists made a philosophyout of a few experiments of the furnace; and

Gilbertus our countryman hath made a phi-losophy out of the observations of a loadstone.So Cicero, when reciting the several opinions ofthe nature of the soul, he found a musician thatheld the soul was but a harmony, saith pleas-antly, Hic ab arte sua non recessit, &c. But ofthese conceits Aristotle speaketh seriously andwisely when he saith, Qui respiciunt ad pauca defacili pronunciant.

(8) Another error is an impatience of doubt,and haste to assertion without due and maturesuspension of judgment. For the two ways ofcontemplation are not unlike the two ways ofaction commonly spoken of by the ancients: theone plain and smooth in the beginning, and inthe end impassable; the other rough and trou-blesome in the entrance, but after a while fairand even. So it is in contemplation: if a manwill begin with certainties, he shall end indoubts; but if he will be content to begin withdoubts, he shall end in certainties.

(9) Another error is in the manner of the tradi-tion and delivery of knowledge, which is forthe most part magistral and peremptory, andnot ingenuous and faithful; in a sort as may besoonest believed, and not easiest examined. Itis true, that in compendious treatises for prac-tice that form is not to be disallowed; but in thetrue handling of knowledge men ought not tofall either on the one side into the vein of Ve-lleius the Epicurean, Nil tam metuens quam nedubitare aliqua de revideretur: nor, on the otherside, into Socrates, his ironical doubting of allthings; but to propound things sincerely withmore or less asseveration, as they stand in aman’s own judgment proved more or less.

(10) Other errors there are in the scope that menpropound to themselves, whereunto they bendtheir endeavours; for, whereas the more con-stant and devote kind of professors of any sci-ence ought to propound to themselves to make

some additions to their science, they converttheir labours to aspire to certain second prizes:as to be a profound interpreter or commentor,to be a sharp champion or defender, to be amethodical compounder or abridger, and so thepatrimony of knowledge cometh to be some-times improved, but seldom augmented.

(11) But the greatest error of all the rest is themistaking or misplacing of the last or furthestend of knowledge. For men have entered into adesire of learning and knowledge, sometimesupon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appe-tite; sometimes to entertain their minds withvariety and delight; sometimes for ornamentand reputation; and sometimes to enable themto victory of wit and contradiction; and mosttimes for lucre and profession; and seldom sin-cerely to give a true account of their gift of rea-son to the benefit and use of men: as if therewere sought in knowledge a couch whereuponto rest a searching and restless spirit; or a ter-

race for a wandering and variable mind to walkup and down with a fair prospect; or a tower ofstate, for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or afort or commanding ground, for strife and con-tention; or a shop, for profit or sale; and not arich storehouse for the glory of the Creator andthe relief of man’s estate. But this is that whichwill indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, ifcontemplation and action may be more nearlyand straitly conjoined and united together thanthey have been: a conjunction like unto that ofthe two highest planets, Saturn, the planet ofrest and contemplation; and Jupiter, the planetof civil society and action, howbeit, I do notmean, when I speak of use and action, that endbefore-mentioned of the applying of knowl-edge to lucre and profession; for I am not igno-rant how much that diverteth and interrupteththe prosecution and advancement of knowl-edge, like unto the golden ball thrown beforeAtalanta, which, while she goeth aside andstoopeth to take up, the race is hindered,

“Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit.” {1}

Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of Socra-tes, to call philosophy down from heaven toconverse upon the earth - that is, to leave natu-ral philosophy aside, and to apply knowledgeonly to manners and policy. But as both hea-ven and earth do conspire and contribute to theuse and benefit of man, so the end ought to be,from both philosophies to separate and rejectvain speculations, and whatsoever is emptyand void, and to preserve and augment what-soever is solid and fruitful; that knowledgemay not be as a courtesan, for pleasure andvanity only, or as a bond-woman, to acquireand gain to her master’s use; but as a spouse,for generation, fruit, and comfort.

(12) Thus have I described and opened, as by a

kind of dissection, those peccant humours (theprincipal of them) which have not only givenimpediment to the proficience of learning, buthave given also occasion to the traducementthereof: wherein, if I have been too plain, itmust be remembered, fidelia vulnera amantis, seddolosa oscula malignantis. This I think I havegained, that I ought to be the better believed inthat which I shall say pertaining to commenda-tion; because I have proceeded so freely in thatwhich concerneth censure. And yet I have nopurpose to enter into a laudative of learning, orto make a hymn to the Muses (though I am ofopinion that it is long since their rites were du-ly celebrated), but my intent is, without varnishor amplification justly to weigh the dignity ofknowledge in the balance with other things,and to take the true value thereof by testimo-nies and arguments, divine and human.

VI. (1) First, therefore, let us seek the dignity ofknowledge in the archetype or first platform,

which is in the attributes and acts of God, as faras they are revealed to man and may be ob-served with sobriety; wherein we may not seekit by the name of learning, for all learning isknowledge acquired, and all knowledge in Godis original, and therefore we must look for it byanother name, that of wisdom or sapience, asthe Scriptures call it.

(2) It is so, then, that in the work of the creationwe see a double emanation of virtue from God;the one referring more properly to power, theother to wisdom; the one expressed in makingthe subsistence of the matter, and the other indisposing the beauty of the form. This beingsupposed, it is to be observed that for anythingwhich appeareth in the history of the creation,the confused mass and matter of heaven andearth was made in a moment, and the orderand disposition of that chaos or mass was thework of six days; such a note of difference itpleased God to put upon the works of power,

and the works of wisdom; wherewith concur-reth, that in the former it is not set down thatGod said, “Let there be heaven and earth,” as itis set down of the works following; but actu-ally, that God made heaven and earth: the onecarrying the style of a manufacture, and theother of a law, decree, or counsel.

(3) To proceed, to that which is next in orderfrom God, to spirits: we find, as far as credit isto be given to the celestial hierarchy of thatsupposed Dionysius, the senator of Athens, thefirst place or degree is given to the angels oflove, which are termed seraphim; the second tothe angels of light, which are termed cherubim;and the third, and so following places, to thro-nes, principalities, and the rest, which are allangels of power and ministry; so as this angelsof knowledge and illumination are placed be-fore the angels of office and domination.

(4) To descend from spirits and intellectual

forms to sensible and material forms, we readthe first form that was created was light, whichhath a relation and correspondence in natureand corporal things to knowledge in spirits andincorporal things.

(5) So in the distribution of days we see the daywherein God did rest and contemplate His ownworks was blessed above all the days whereinHe did effect and accomplish them.

(6) After the creation was finished, it is setdown unto us that man was placed in the gar-den to work therein; which work, so appointedto him, could be no other than work of contem-plation; that is, when the end of work is but forexercise and experiment, not for necessity; forthere being then no reluctation of the creature,nor sweat of the brow, man’s employmentmust of consequence have been matter of de-light in the experiment, and not matter of la-bour for the use. Again, the first acts which

man performed in Paradise consisted of thetwo summary parts of knowledge; the view ofcreatures, and the imposition of names. As forthe knowledge which induced the fall, it was,as was touched before, not the natural knowl-edge of creatures, but the moral knowledge ofgood and evil; wherein the supposition was,that God’s commandments or prohibitions we-re not the originals of good and evil, but thatthey had other beginnings, which man aspiredto know, to the end to make a total defectionfrom God and to depend wholly upon himself.

(7) To pass on: in the first event or occurrenceafter the fall of man, we see (as the Scriptureshave infinite mysteries, not violating at all thetruth of this story or letter) an image of the twoestates, the contemplative state and the activestate, figured in the two persons of Abel andCain, and in the two simplest and most primi-tive trades of life; that of the shepherd (who, byreason of his leisure, rest in a place, and lying

in view of heaven, is a lively image of a con-templative life), and that of the husbandman,where we see again the favour and election ofGod went to the shepherd, and not to the tillerof the ground.

(8) So in the age before the flood, the holy re-cords within those few memorials which arethere entered and registered have vouchsafedto mention and honour the name of the inven-tors and authors of music and works in metal.In the age after the flood, the first great judg-ment of God upon the ambition of man was theconfusion of tongues; whereby the open tradeand intercourse of learning and knowledge waschiefly imbarred.

(9) To descend to Moses the lawgiver, andGod’s first pen: he is adorned by the Scriptureswith this addition and commendation, “That hewas seen in all the learning of the Egyptians,”which nation we know was one of the most

ancient schools of the world: for so Plato bringsin the Egyptian priest saying unto Solon, “YouGrecians are ever children; you have no knowl-edge of antiquity, nor antiquity of knowledge.”Take a view of the ceremonial law of Moses;you shall find, besides the prefiguration ofChrist, the badge or difference of the people ofGod, the exercise and impression of obedience,and other divine uses and fruits thereof, thatsome of the most learned Rabbins have tra-vailed profitably and profoundly to observe,some of them a natural, some of them a moralsense, or reduction of many of the ceremoniesand ordinances. As in the law of the leprosy,where it is said, “If the whiteness have over-spread the flesh, the patient may pass abroadfor clean; but if there be any whole flesh re-maining, he is to be shut up for unclean;” oneof them noteth a principle of nature, that putre-faction is more contagious before maturity thanafter; and another noteth a position of moralphilosophy, that men abandoned to vice do not

so much corrupt manners, as those that are halfgood and half evil. So in this and very manyother places in that law, there is to be found,besides the theological sense, much aspersionof philosophy.

(10) So likewise in that excellent hook of Job, ifit be revolved with diligence, it will be foundpregnant and swelling with natural philoso-phy; as for example, cosmography, and theroundness of the world, Qui extendit aquilonemsuper vacuum, et appendit terram super nihilum;wherein the pensileness of the earth, the pole ofthe north, and the finiteness or convexity ofheaven are manifestly touched. So again, mat-ter of astronomy: Spiritus ejus ornavit cælos, etobstetricante manu ejus eductus est Coluber tortu-oses. And in another place, Nunquid conjungerevalebis micantes stellas Pleiadas, aut gyrum Arcturipoteris dissipare? Where the fixing of the stars,ever standing at equal distance, is with greatelegancy noted. And in another place, Qui facit

Arcturum, et Oriona, et Hyadas, et interiora Austri;where again he takes knowledge of the depres-sion of the southern pole, calling it the secretsof the south, because the southern stars were inthat climate unseen. Matter of generation: An-non sicut lac mulsisti me, et sicut caseum coagulastime? &c. Matter of minerals: Habet argentumvenarum suarum principia; et auro locus est in quoconflatur, ferrum de terra tollitur, et lapis solutuscalore in æs vertitur; and so forwards in thatchapter.

(11) So likewise in the person of Solomon theking, we see the gift or endowment of wisdomand learning, both in Solomon’s petition and inGod’s assent thereunto, preferred before allother terrene and temporal felicity. By virtue ofwhich grant or donative of God Solomon be-came enabled not only to write those excellentparables or aphorisms concerning divine andmoral philosophy, but also to compile a naturalhistory of all verdure, from the cedar upon the

mountain to the moss upon the wall (which isbut a rudiment between putrefaction and anherb), and also of all things that breathe or mo-ve. Nay, the same Solomon the king, althoughhe excelled in the glory of treasure and mag-nificent buildings, of shipping and navigation,of service and attendance, of fame and renown,and the like, yet he maketh no claim to any ofthose glories, but only to the glory of inquisi-tion of truth; for so he saith expressly, “Theglory of God is to conceal a thing, but the gloryof the king is to find it out;” as if, according tothe innocent play of children, the Divine Maj-esty took delight to hide His works, to the endto have them found out; and as if kings couldnot obtain a greater honour than to be God’splayfellows in that game; considering the greatcommandment of wits and means, wherebynothing needeth to be hidden from them.

(12) Neither did the dispensation of God varyin the times after our Saviour came into the

world; for our Saviour himself did first showHis power to subdue ignorance, by His confer-ence with the priests and doctors of the law,before He showed His power to subdue natureby His miracles. And the coming of this HolySpirit was chiefly figured and expressed in thesimilitude and gift of tongues, which are butvehicula scientiæ.

(13) So in the election of those instruments,which it pleased God to use for the plantationof the faith, notwithstanding that at the first Hedid employ persons altogether unlearned, oth-erwise than by inspiration, more evidently todeclare His immediate working, and to abaseall human wisdom or knowledge; yet neverthe-less that counsel of His was no sooner per-formed, but in the next vicissitude and succes-sion He did send His divine truth into theworld, waited on with other learnings, as withservants or handmaids: for so we see St. Paul,who was only learned amongst the Apostles,

had his pen most used in the Scriptures of theNew Testament.

(14) So again we find that many of the ancientbishops and fathers of the Church were excel-lently read and studied in all the learning ofthis heathen; insomuch that the edict of theEmperor Julianus (whereby it was interdictedunto Christians to be admitted into schools,lectures, or exercises of learning) was esteemedand accounted a more pernicious engine andmachination against the Christian Faith thanwere all the sanguinary prosecutions of hispredecessors; neither could the emulation andjealousy of Gregory, the first of that name, Bis-hop of Rome, ever obtain the opinion of pietyor devotion; but contrariwise received the cen-sure of humour, malignity, and pusillanimity,even amongst holy men; in that he designed toobliterate and extinguish the memory of hea-then antiquity and authors. But contrariwise itwas the Christian Church, which, amidst the

inundations of the Scythians on the one sidefrom the north-west, and the Saracens from theeast, did preserve in the sacred lap and bosomthereof the precious relics even of heathen lear-ning, which otherwise had been extinguished,as if no such thing had ever been.

(15) And we see before our eyes, that in the ageof ourselves and our fathers, when it pleasedGod to call the Church of Rome to account fortheir degenerate manners and ceremonies, andsundry doctrines obnoxious and framed to up-hold the same abuses; at one and the same timeit was ordained by the Divine Providence thatthere should attend withal a renovation andnew spring of all other knowledges. And onthe other side we see the Jesuits, who partly inthemselves, and partly by the emulation andprovocation of their example, have much quic-kened and strengthened the state of learning;we see (I say) what notable service and repara-tion they have done to the Roman see.

(16) Wherefore, to conclude this part, let it beobserved, that there be two principal dutiesand services, besides ornament and illustration,which philosophy and human learning do per-form to faith and religion. The one, becausethey are an effectual inducement to the exalta-tion of the glory of God. For as the Psalms andother Scriptures do often invite us to considerand magnify the great and wonderful works ofGod, so if we should rest only in the contem-plation of the exterior of them as they first offerthemselves to our senses, we should do a likeinjury unto the majesty of God, as if we shouldjudge or construe of the store of some excellentjeweller by that only which is set out towardthe street in his shop. The other, because theyminister a singular help and preservativeagainst unbelief and error. For our Savioursaith, “You err, not knowing the Scriptures, northe power of God;” laying before us two booksor volumes to study, if we will be secured from

error: first the Scriptures, revealing the will ofGod, and then the creatures expressing Hispower; whereof the latter is a key unto the for-mer: not only opening our understanding toconceive the true sense of the Scriptures by thegeneral notions of reason and rules of speech,but chiefly opening our belief, in drawing usinto a due meditation of the omnipotency ofGod, which is chiefly signed and engravenupon His works. Thus much therefore for di-vine testimony and evidence concerning thetrue dignity and value of learning.

VII. (1) As for human proofs, it is so large afield, as in a discourse of this nature and brev-ity it is fit rather to use choice of those thingswhich we shall produce, than to embrace thevariety of them. First, therefore, in the degreesof human honour amongst the heathen, it wasthe highest to obtain to a veneration and adora-tion as a God. This unto the Christians is as theforbidden fruit. But we speak now separately

of human testimony, according to which - thatwhich the Grecians call apotheosis, and the La-tins relatio inter divos - was the supreme honourwhich man could attribute unto man, speciallywhen it was given, not by a formal decree or actof state (as it was used among the Roman Em-perors), but by an inward assent and belief.Which honour, being so high, had also a degreeor middle term; for there were reckoned abovehuman honours, honours heroical and divine:in the attribution and distribution of whichhonours we see antiquity made this difference;that whereas founders and uniters of states andcities, lawgivers, extirpers of tyrants, fathers ofthe people, and other eminent persons in civilmerit, were honoured but with the titles of wor-thies or demigods, such as were Hercules, The-seus, Minus, Romulus, and the like; on theother side, such as were inventors and authorsof new arts, endowments, and commoditiestowards man’s life, were ever consecratedamongst the gods themselves, as was Ceres,

Bacchus, Mercurius, Apollo, and others. Andjustly; for the merit of the former is confinedwithin the circle of an age or a nation, and islike fruitful showers, which though they beprofitable and good, yet serve but for that sea-son, and for a latitude of ground where theyfall; but the other is, indeed, like the benefits ofheaven, which are permanent and universal.The former again is mixed with strife and per-turbation, but the latter hath the true characterof Divine Presence, coming in aura leni, withoutnoise or agitation.

(2) Neither is certainly that other merit of learn-ing, in repressing the inconveniences whichgrow from man to man, much inferior to theformer, of relieving the necessities which arisefrom nature, which merit was lively set forth bythe ancients in that feigned relation of Orpheus’theatre, where all beasts and birds assembled,and, forgetting their several appetites - some ofprey, some of game, some of quarrel - stood all

sociably together listening unto the airs andaccords of the harp, the sound whereof no soo-ner ceased, or was drowned by some loudernoise, but every beast returned to his own na-ture; wherein is aptly described the nature andcondition of men, who are full of savage andunreclaimed desires, of profit, of lust, of re-venge; which as long as they give ear to pre-cepts, to laws, to religion, sweetly touched witheloquence and persuasion of books, of sermons,of harangues, so long is society and peacemaintained; but if these instruments be silent,or that sedition and tumult make them not au-dible, all things dissolve into anarchy and con-fusion.

(3) But this appeareth more manifestly whenkings themselves, or persons of authority underthem, or other governors in commonwealthsand popular estates, are endued with learning.For although he might be thought partial to hisown profession that said “Then should people

and estates be happy when either kings werephilosophers, or philosophers kings;” yet somuch is verified by experience, that under lear-ned princes and governors there have beenever the best times: for howsoever kings mayhave their imperfections in their passions andcustoms, yet, if they be illuminate by learning,they have those notions of religion, policy, andmorality, which do preserve them and refrainthem from all ruinous and peremptory errorsand excesses, whispering evermore in theirears, when counsellors and servants stand muteand silent. And senators or counsellors, like-wise, which be learned, to proceed upon moresafe and substantial principles, than counsellorswhich are only men of experience; the one sortkeeping dangers afar off, whereas the otherdiscover them not till they come near hand, andthen trust to the agility of their wit to ward oravoid them.

(4) Which felicity of times under learned prin-

ces (to keep still the law of brevity, by using themost eminent and selected examples) doth bestappear in the age which passed from the deathof Domitianus the emperor until the reign ofCommodus; comprehending a succession of sixprinces, all learned, or singular favourers andadvancers of learning, which age for temporalrespects was the most happy and flourishingthat ever the Roman Empire (which then was amodel of the world) enjoyed - a matter revealedand prefigured unto Domitian in a dream thenight before he was slain: for he thought therewas grown behind upon his shoulders a neckand a head of gold, which came accordingly topass in those golden times which succeeded; ofwhich princes we will make some commemora-tion; wherein, although the matter will be vul-gar, and may be thought fitter for a declama-tion than agreeable to a treatise infolded as thisis, yet, because it is pertinent to the point inhand - Neque semper arcum tendit Apollo - and toname them only were too naked and cursory, I

will not omit it altogether. The first was Nerva,the excellent temper of whose government is bya glance in Cornelius Tacitus touched to thelife: Postquam divus Nerva res oluim insociabilesmiscuisset, imperium et libertatem. And in tokenof his learning, the last act of his short reign leftto memory was a missive to his adopted son,Trajan, proceeding upon some inward discon-tent at the ingratitude of the times, compre-hended in a verse of Homer’s -

“Telis, Phœbe, tuis, lacrymas ulciscere nostras.”

(5) Trajan, who succeeded, was for his personnot learned; but if we will hearken to thespeech of our Saviour, that saith, “He that re-ceiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shallhave a prophet’s reward,” he deserveth to beplaced amongst the most learned princes; forthere was not a greater admirer of learning or

benefactor of learning, a founder of famouslibraries, a perpetual advancer of learned mento office, and familiar converser with learnedprofessors and preceptors who were noted tohave then most credit in court. On the otherside how much Trajan’s virtue and governmentwas admired and renowned, surely no testi-mony of grave and faithful history doth morelively set forth than that legend tale of Grego-rius Magnum, Bishop of Rome, who was notedfor the extreme envy he bare towards all hea-then excellency; and yet he is reported, out ofthe love and estimation of Trajan’s moral vir-tues, to have made unto God passionate andfervent prayers for the delivery of his soul outof hell, and to have obtained it, with a caveatthat he should make no more such petitions. Inthis prince’s time also the persecutions againstthe Christians received intermission upon thecertificate of Plinius Secundus, a man of excel-lent learning and by Trajan advanced.

(6) Adrian, his successor, was the most curiousman that lived, and the most universal inquirer:insomuch as it was noted for an error in hismind that he desired to comprehend all things,and not to reserve himself for the worthiestthings, falling into the like humour that waslong before noted in Philip of Macedon, who,when he would needs overrule and put downan excellent musician in an argument touchingmusic, was well answered by him again - “Godforbid, sir,” saith he, “that your fortune shouldbe so bad as to know these things better thanI.” It pleased God likewise to use the curiosityof this emperor as an inducement to the peaceof His Church in those days; for having Christin veneration, not as a God or Saviour, but as awonder or novelty, and having his picture inhis gallery matched with Apollonius (withwhom in his vain imagination he thought itshad some conformity), yet it served the turn toallay the bitter hatred of those times against theChristian name, so as the Church had peace

during his time. And for his government civil,although he did not attain to that of Trajan’s inglory of arms or perfection of justice, yet indeserving of the weal of the subject he did ex-ceed him. For Trajan erected many famousmonuments and buildings, insomuch as Con-stantine the Great in emulation was wont to callhim Parietaria, “wall-flower,” because his namewas upon so many walls; but his buildings andworks were more of glory and triumph thanuse and necessity. But Adrian spent his wholereign, which was peaceable, in a perambulationor survey of the Roman Empire, giving orderand making assignation where he went for re-edifying of cities, towns, and forts decayed, andfor cutting of rivers and streams, and for mak-ing bridges and passages, and for policing ofcities and commonalties with new ordinancesand constitutions, and granting new franchisesand incorporations; so that his whole time wasa very restoration of all the lapses and decaysof former times.

(7) Antoninus Pius, who succeeded him, was aprince excellently learned, and had the patientand subtle wit of a schoolman, insomuch as incommon speech (which leaves no virtue un-taxed) he was called Cymini Sector, a carver or adivider of cummin seed, which is one of theleast seeds. Such a patience he had and settledspirit to enter into the least and most exact dif-ferences of causes, a fruit no doubt of the ex-ceeding tranquillity and serenity of his mind,which being no ways charged or encumbered,either with fears, remorses, or scruples, buthaving been noted for a man of the purestgoodness, without all fiction or affectation, thathath reigned or lived, made his mind continu-ally present and entire. He likewise ap-proached a degree nearer unto Christianity,and became, as Agrippa said unto St. Paul,“half a Christian,” holding their religion andlaw in good opinion, and not only ceasing per-secution, but giving way to the advancement of

Christians.

(5) There succeeded him the first Divi fratres,the two adoptive brethren - Lucius CommodusVerus, son to Ælius Verus, who delighted muchin the softer kind of learning, and was wont tocall the poet Martial his Virgil; and Marcus Au-relius Antoninus: whereof the latter, who ob-scured his colleague and survived him long,was named the “Philosopher,” who, as he ex-celled all the rest in learning, so he excelledthem likewise in perfection of all royal virtues;insomuch as Julianus the emperor, in his bookentitled Cærsares, being as a pasquil or satire toderide all his predecessors, feigned that theywere all invited to a banquet of the gods, andSilenus the jester sat at the nether end of thetable and bestowed a scoff on everyone as theycame in; but when Marcus Philosophus camein, Silenus was gravelled and out of counte-nance, not knowing where to carp at him, saveat the last he gave a glance at his patience to-

wards his wife. And the virtue of this prince,continued with that of his predecessor, madethe name of Antoninus so sacred in the world,that though it were extremely dishonoured inCommodus, Caracalla, and Heliogabalus, whoall bare the name, yet, when Alexander Severusrefused the name because he was a stranger tothe family, the Senate with one acclamationsaid, Quomodo Augustus, sic et Antoninus. Insuch renown and veneration was the name ofthese two princes in those days, that theywould have had it as a perpetual addition in allthe emperors’ style. In this emperor’s time alsothe Church for the most part was in peace; so asin this sequence of six princes we do see theblessed effects of learning in sovereignty, pain-ted forth in the greatest table of the world.

(9) But for a tablet or picture of smaller volume(not presuming to speak of your Majesty thatliveth), in my judgment the most excellent isthat of Queen Elizabeth, your immediate pre-

decessor in this part of Britain; a prince that, ifPlutarch were now alive to write lives by paral-lels, would trouble him, I think, to find for her aparallel amongst women. This lady was en-dued with learning in her sex singular, and rareeven amongst masculine princes - whether wespeak of learning, of language, or of science,modern or ancient, divinity or humanity - andunto the very last year of her life she accus-tomed to appoint set hours for reading, scarcelyany young student in a university more dailyor more duly. As for her government, I assuremyself (I shall not exceed if I do affirm) thatthis part of the island never had forty-five yearsof better tines, and yet not through the calm-ness of the season, but through the wisdom ofher regiment. For if there be considered, of theone side, the truth of religion established, theconstant peace and security, the good admini-stration of justice, the temperate use of the pre-rogative, not slackened, nor much strained; theflourishing state of learning, sortable to so ex-

cellent a patroness; the convenient estate ofwealth and means, both of crown and subject;the habit of obedience, and the moderation ofdiscontents; and there be considered, on theother side, the differences of religion, the trou-bles of neighbour countries, the ambition ofSpain, and opposition of Rome, and then thatshe was solitary and of herself; these things, Isay, considered, as I could not have chosen aninstance so recent and so proper, so I suppose Icould not have chosen one more remarkable oreminent to the purpose now in hand, which isconcerning the conjunction of learning in theprince with felicity in the people.

(10) Neither hath learning an influence andoperation only upon civil merit and moral vir-tue, and the arts or temperature of peace andpeaceable government; but likewise it hath noless power and efficacy in enablement towardsmartial and military virtue and prowess, asmay be notably represented in the examples of

Alexander the Great and Cæsar the Dictator(mentioned before, but now in fit place to beresumed), of whose virtues and acts in warthere needs no note or recital, having been thewonders of time in that kind; but of their affec-tions towards learning and perfections in learn-ing it is pertinent to say somewhat.

(11) Alexander was bred and taught under Ar-istotle, the great philosopher, who dedicateddivers of his books of philosophy unto him; hewas attended with Callisthenes and divers ot-her learned persons, that followed him incamp, throughout his journeys and conquests.What price and estimation he had learning indoth notably appear in these three particulars:first, in the envy he used to express that he baretowards Achilles, in this, that he had so good atrumpet of his praises as Homer’s verses; sec-ondly, in the judgment or solution he gavetouching that precious cabinet of Darius, whichwas found among his jewels (whereof question

was made what thing was worthy to be putinto it, and he gave his opinion for Homer’sworks); thirdly, in his letter to Aristotle, after hehad set forth his books of nature, wherein heexpostulateth with him for publishing the se-crets or mysteries of philosophy; and gave himto understand that himself esteemed it more toexcel other men in learning and knowledgethan in power and empire. And what use hehad of learning doth appear, or rather shine, inall his speeches and answers, being full of sci-ence and use of science, and that in all variety.

(12) And herein again it may seem a thing scho-lastical, and somewhat idle to recite things thatevery man knoweth; but yet, since the argu-ment I handle leadeth me thereunto, I am gladthat men shall perceive I am as willing to flatter(if they will so call it) an Alexander, or a Cæsar,or an Antoninus, that are dead many hundredyears since, as any that now liveth; for it is thedisplaying of the glory of learning in sover-

eignty that I propound to myself, and not ahumour of declaiming in any man’s praises.Observe, then, the speech he used of Diogenes,and see if it tend not to the true state of one ofthe greatest questions of moral philosophy:whether the enjoying of outward things, or thecontemning of them, be the greatest happiness;for when he saw Diogenes so perfectly con-tented with so little, he said to those thatmocked at his condition, “were I not Alexan-der, I would wish to be Diogenes.” But Senecainverteth it, and saith, “Plus erat, quod hic nolletaccipere, quàm quod ille posset dare.” There weremore things which Diogenes would have re-fused than those were which Alexander couldhave given or enjoyed.

(13) Observe, again, that speech which wasusual with him, - “That he felt his mortalitychiefly in two things, sleep and lust;” and see ifit were not a speech extracted out of the depthof natural philosophy, and liker to have come

out of the mouth of Aristotle or Democritusthan from Alexander.

(14) See, again, that speech of humanity andpoesy, when, upon the bleeding of his wounds,he called unto him one of his flatterers, thatwas wont to ascribe to him divine honour, andsaid, “Look, this is very blood; this is not such aliquor as Homer speaketh of, which ran fromVenus’ hand when it was pierced by Dio-medes.”

(15) See likewise his readiness in reprehensionof logic in the speech he used to Cassander,upon a complaint that was made against hisfather Antipater; for when Alexander hap-pened to say, “Do you think these men wouldhave come from so far to complain except theyhad just cause of grief?” and Cassander an-swered, “Yea, that was the matter, because theythought they should not be disproved;” saidAlexander, laughing, “See the subtleties of Ar-

istotle, to take a matter both ways, pro et contra,&c.”

(16) But note, again, how well he could use thesame art which he reprehended to serve hisown humour: when bearing a secret grudge toCallisthenes, because he was against the newceremony of his adoration, feasting one nightwhere the same Callisthenes was at the table, itwas moved by some after supper, for enter-tainment sake, that Callisthenes, who was aneloquent man, might speak of some theme orpurpose at his own choice; which Callisthenesdid, choosing the praise of the Macedoniannation for his discourse, and performing thesame with so good manner as the hearers weremuch ravished; whereupon Alexander, nothingpleased, said, “It was easy to be eloquent uponso good a subject; but,” saith he, “turn yourstyle, and let us hear what you can say againstus;” which Callisthenes presently undertook,and did with that sting and life that Alexander

interrupted him, and said, “The goodness ofthe cause made him eloquent before, and de-spite made him eloquent then again.”

(17) Consider further, for tropes of rhetoric, thatexcellent use of a metaphor or translation, whe-rewith he taxeth Antipater, who was an impe-rious and tyrannous governor; for when one ofAntipater’s friends commended him to Alex-ander for his moderation, that he did not de-generate as his other lieutenants did into thePersian pride, in uses of purple, but kept theancient habit of Macedon, of black. “True,”saith Alexander; “but Antipater is all purplewithin.” Or that other, when Parmenio came tohim in the plain of Arbela and showed him theinnumerable multitude of his enemies, spe-cially as they appeared by the infinite numberof lights as it had been a new firmament ofstars, and thereupon advised him to assail themby night; whereupon he answered, “That hewould not steal the victory.”

(18) For matter of policy, weigh that significantdistinction, so much in all ages embraced, thathe made between his two friends Hephæstionand Craterus, when he said, “That the one lo-ved Alexander, and the other loved the king:”describing the principal difference of princes’best servants, that some in affection love theirperson, and other in duty love their crown.

(19) Weigh also that excellent taxation of anerror, ordinary with counsellors of princes, thatthey counsel their masters according to themodel of their own mind and fortune, and notof their masters. When upon Darius’ great of-fers Parmenio had said, “Surely I would acceptthese offers were I as Alexander;” saith Alex-ander, “So would I were I as Parmenio.”

(20) Lastly, weigh that quick and acute replywhich he made when he gave so large gifts tohis friends and servants, and was asked what

he did reserve for himself, and he answered,“Hope.” Weigh, I say, whether he had not castup his account aright, because hope must be theportion of all that resolve upon great enter-prises; for this was Cæsar’s portion when hewent first into Gaul, his estate being then ut-terly overthrown with largesses. And this waslikewise the portion of that noble prince, how-soever transported with ambition, Henry Dukeof Guise, of whom it was usually said that hewas the greatest usurer in France, because hehad turned all his estate into obligations.

(21) To conclude, therefore, as certain critics areused to say hyperbolically, “That if all scienceswere lost they might be found in Virgil,” socertainly this may be said truly, there are theprints and footsteps of learning in those fewspeeches which are reported of this prince, theadmiration of whom, when I consider him notas Alexander the Great, but as Aristotle’s scho-lar, hath carried me too far.

(22) As for Julius Cæsar, the excellency of hislearning needeth not to be argued from hiseducation, or his company, or his speeches; butin a further degree doth declare itself in hiswritings and works: whereof some are extantand permanent, and some unfortunately per-ished. For first, we see there is left unto us thatexcellent history of his own wars, which heentitled only a Commentary, wherein all suc-ceeding times have admired the solid weight ofmatter, and the real passages and lively imagesof actions and persons, expressed in the great-est propriety of words and perspicuity of narra-tion that ever was; which that it was not theeffect of a natural gift, but of learning and pre-cept, is well witnessed by that work of his enti-tled De Analogia, being a grammatical philoso-phy, wherein he did labour to make this sameVox ad placitum to become Vox ad licitum, and toreduce custom of speech to congruity of speech;and took as it were the pictures of words from

the life of reason.

(23) So we receive from him, as a monumentboth of his power and learning, the then re-formed computation of the year; well express-ing that he took it to be as great a glory to him-self to observe and know the law of the heav-ens, as to give law to men upon the earth.

(24) So likewise in that book of his, Anti-Cato, itmay easily appear that he did aspire as well tovictory of wit as victory of war: undertakingtherein a conflict against the greatest championwith the pen that then lived, Cicero the orator.

(25) So, again, in his book of Apophthegms,which he collected, we see that he esteemed itmore honour to make himself but a pair of ta-bles, to take the wise and pithy words of others,than to have every word of his own to be madean apophthegm or an oracle, as vain princes, bycustom of flattery, pretend to do. And yet if I

should enumerate divers of his speeches, as Idid those of Alexander, they are truly such asSolomon noteth, when he saith, Verba sapientumtanquam aculei, et tanquam clavi in altum defixi:whereof I will only recite three, not so delecta-ble for elegancy, but admirable for vigour andefficacy.

(26) As first, it is reason he be thought a masterof words, that could with one word appease amutiny in his army, which was thus: The Ro-mans, when their generals did speak to theirarmy, did use the word Milites, but when themagistrates spake to the people they did usethe word Quirites. The soldiers were in tumult,and seditiously prayed to be cashiered; not thatthey so meant, but by expostulation thereof todraw Cæsar to other conditions; wherein hebeing resolute not to give way, after some si-lence, he began his speech, Ego Quirites, whichdid admit them already cashiered - wherewiththey were so surprised, crossed, and confused,

as they would not suffer him to go on in hisspeech, but relinquished their demands, andmade it their suit to be again called by the na-me of Milites.

(27) The second speech was thus: Cæsar didextremely affect the name of king; and somewere set on as he passed by in popular accla-mation to salute him king. Whereupon, findingthe cry weak and poor, he put it off thus, in akind of jest, as if they had mistaken his sur-name: Non Rex sum, sed Cæsar; a speech that, ifit be searched, the life and fulness of it canscarce be expressed. For, first, it was a refusalof the name, but yet not serious; again, it didsignify an infinite confidence and magnanim-ity, as if he presumed Cæsar was the greatertitle, as by his worthiness it is come to pass tillthis day. But chiefly it was a speech of greatallurement toward his own purpose, as if thestate did strive with him but for a name,whereof mean families were vested; for Rex

was a surname with the Romans, as well asKing is with us.

(28) The last speech which I will mention wasused to Metellus, when Cæsar, after war de-clared, did possess himself of this city of Rome;at which time, entering into the inner treasuryto take the money there accumulate, Metellus,being tribune, forbade him. Whereto Cæsarsaid, “That if he did not desist, he would layhim dead in the place.” And presently takinghimself up, he added, “Young man, it is harderfor me to speak it than to do it - Adolescens, du-rius est mihi hoc dicere quàm facere.” A speechcompounded of the greatest terror and greatestclemency that could proceed out of the mouthof man.

(29) But to return and conclude with him, it isevident himself knew well his own perfectionin learning, and took it upon him, as appearedwhen upon occasion that some spake what a

strange resolution it was in Lucius Sylla to re-sign his dictators, he, scoffing at him to his ownadvantage, answered, “That Sylla could notskill of letters, and therefore knew not how todictate.”

(30) And here it were fit to leave this point, tou-ching the concurrence of military virtue andlearning (for what example should come withany grace after those two of Alexander andCæsar?), were it not in regard of the rareness ofcircumstance, that I find in one other particular,as that which did so suddenly pass from ex-treme scorn to extreme wonder: and it is ofXenophon the philosopher, who went fromSocrates’ school into Asia in the expedition ofCyrus the younger against King Artaxerxes.This Xenophon at that time was very young,and never had seen the wars before, neitherhad any command in the army, but only fol-lowed the war as a voluntary, for the love andconversation of Proxenus, his friend. He was

present when Falinus came in message fromthe great king to the Grecians, after that Cyruswas slain in the field, and they, a handful ofmen, left to themselves in the midst of theking’s territories, cut off from their country bymany navigable rivers and many hundred mi-les. The message imported that they shoulddeliver up their arms and submit themselves tothe king’s mercy. To which message, beforeanswer was made, divers of the army conferredfamiliarly with Falinus; and amongst the restXenophon happened to say, “Why, Falinus, wehave now but these two things left, our armsand our virtue; and if we yield up our arms,how shall we make use of our virtue?” Where-to Falinus, smiling on him, said, “If I be notdeceived, young gentleman, you are an Athe-nian, and I believe you study philosophy, and itis pretty that you say; but you are much abusedif you think your virtue can withstand theking’s power.” Here was the scorn; the wonderfollowed: which was that this young scholar or

philosopher, after all the captains were mur-dered in parley by treason, conducted those tenthousand foot, through the heart of all theking’s high countries, from Babylon to Græciain safety, in despite of all the king’s forces, tothe astonishment of the world, and the encour-agement of the Grecians in times succeeding tomake invasion upon the kings of Persia, as wasafter purposed by Jason the Thessalian, at-tempted by Agesilaus the Spartan, andachieved by Alexander the Macedonian, allupon the ground of the act of that youngscholar.

VIII. (1) To proceed now from imperial andmilitary virtue to moral and private virtue;first, it is an assured truth, which is containedin the verses:-

“Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fideliter artesEmollit mores nec sinit esse feros.”

It taketh away the wildness and barbarism andfierceness of men’s minds; but indeed the ac-cent had need be upon fideliter; for a little su-perficial learning doth rather work a contraryeffect. It taketh away all levity, temerity, andinsolency, by copious suggestion of all doubtsand difficulties, and acquainting the mind tobalance reasons on both sides, and to turn backthe first offers and conceits of the mind, and toaccept of nothing but examined and tried. Ittaketh away vain admiration of anything,which is the root of all weakness. For all thingsare admired, either because they are new, orbecause they are great. For novelty, no manthat wadeth in learning or contemplation thor-oughly but will find that printed in his heart,Nil novi super terram. Neither can any manmarvel at the play of puppets, that goeth be-hind the curtain, and adviseth well of the mo-tion. And for magnitude, as Alexander the

Great, after that he was used to great armies,and the great conquests of the spacious prov-inces in Asia, when he received letters out ofGreece, of some fights and services there,which were commonly for a passage or a fort,or some walled town at the most, he said: - “Itseemed to him that he was advertised of thebattles of the frogs and the mice, that the oldtales went of.” So certainly, if a man meditatemuch upon the universal frame of nature, theearth with men upon it (the divineness of soulsexcept) will not seem much other than an ant-hill, whereas some ants carry corn, and somecarry their young, and some go empty, and allto and fro a little heap of dust. It taketh awayor mitigateth fear of death or adverse fortune,which is one of the greatest impediments ofvirtue and imperfections of manners. For if aman’s mind be deeply seasoned with the con-sideration of the mortality and corruptible na-ture of things, he will easily concur with Epic-tetus, who went forth one day and saw a

woman weeping for her pitcher of earth thatwas broken, and went forth the next day andsaw a woman weeping for her son that wasdead, and thereupon said, “Heri vidi fragilemfrangi, hodie vidi mortalem mori.” And, therefore,Virgil did excellently and profoundly couplethe knowledge of causes and the conquest of allfears together, as concomitantia.

“Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,Quique metus omnes, et inexorabile fatumSubjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis ava-ri.”

(2) It were too long to go over the particularremedies which learning doth minister to allthe diseases of the mind: sometimes purgingthe ill humours, sometimes opening the ob-structions, sometimes helping digestion, some-times increasing appetite, sometimes healing

the wounds and exulcerations thereof, and thelike; and, therefore, I will conclude with thatwhich hath rationem totius - which is, that itdisposeth the constitution of the mind not to befixed or settled in the defects thereof, but still tobe capable and susceptible of growth and ref-ormation. For the unlearned man knows notwhat it is to descend into himself, or to callhimself to account, nor the pleasure of that sua-vissima vita, indies sentire se fieri meliorem. Thegood parts he hath he will learn to show to thefull, and use them dexterously, but not much toincrease them. The faults he hath he will learnhow to hide and colour them, but not much toamend them; like an ill mower, that mows onstill, and never whets his scythe. Whereas withthe learned man it fares otherwise, that he dothever intermix the correction and amendment ofhis mind with the use and employment the-reof. Nay, further, in general and in sum, cer-tain it is that Veritas and Bonitas differ but asthe seal and the print; for truth prints goodness,

and they be the clouds of error which descendin the storms of passions and perturbations.

(3) From moral virtue let us pass on to matter ofpower and commandment, and consider whet-her in right reason there be any comparablewith that wherewith knowledge investeth andcrowneth man’s nature. We see the dignity ofthe commandment is according to the dignityof the commanded; to have commandmentover beasts as herdmen have, is a thing con-temptible; to have commandment over childrenas schoolmasters have, is a matter of smallhonour; to have commandment over galley-slaves is a disparagement rather than an hon-our. Neither is the commandment of tyrantsmuch better, over people which have put offthe generosity of their minds; and, therefore, itwas ever holden that honours in free monar-chies and commonwealths had a sweetnessmore than in tyrannies, because the com-mandment extendeth more over the wills of

men, and not only over their deeds and ser-vices. And therefore, when Virgil putteth him-self forth to attribute to Augustus Cæsar thebest of human honours, he doth it in thesewords:-

“Victorque volentesPer populos dat jura, viamque affectat Olym-po.”

But yet the commandment of knowledge is yethigher than the commandment over the will;for it is a commandment over the reason, belief,and understanding of man, which is the highestpart of the mind, and giveth law to the willitself. For there is no power on earth whichsetteth up a throne or chair of estate in the spir-its and souls of men, and in their cogitations,imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but knowl-edge and learning. And therefore we see the

detestable and extreme pleasure that arch-heretics, and false prophets, and impostors aretransported with, when they once find in them-selves that they have a superiority in the faithand conscience of men; so great as if they haveonce tasted of it, it is seldom seen that any tor-ture or persecution can make them relinquishor abandon it. But as this is that which the au-thor of the Revelation calleth the depth or pro-foundness of Satan, so by argument of contrar-ies, the just and lawful sovereignty over men’sunderstanding, by force of truth rightly inter-preted, is that which approacheth nearest to thesimilitude of the divine rule.

(4) As for fortune and advancement, the benefi-cence of learning is not so confined to give for-tune only to states and commonwealths, as itdoth not likewise give fortune to particularpersons. For it was well noted long ago, thatHomer hath given more men their livings, thaneither Sylla, or Cæsar, or Augustus ever did,

notwithstanding their great largesses and dona-tives, and distributions of lands to so manylegions. And no doubt it is hard to say whetherarms or learning have advanced greater num-bers. And in case of sovereignty we see, that ifarms or descent have carried away the king-dom, yet learning hath carried the priesthood,which ever hath been in some competition withempire.

(5) Again, for the pleasure and delight of know-ledge and learning, it far surpasseth all other innature. For, shall the pleasures of the affectionsso exceed the pleasure of the sense, as much asthe obtaining of desire or victory exceedeth asong or a dinner? and must not of consequencethe pleasures of the intellect or understandingexceed the pleasures of the affections? We seein all other pleasures there is satiety, and afterthey be used, their verdure departeth, whichshoweth well they be but deceits of pleasure,and not pleasures; and that it was the novelty

which pleased, and not the quality. And, there-fore, we see that voluptuous men turn friars,and ambitions princes turn melancholy. But ofknowledge there is no satiety, but satisfactionand appetite are perpetually interchangeable;and, therefore, appeareth to be good in itselfsimply, without fallacy or accident. Neither isthat pleasure of small efficacy and contentmentto the mind of man, which the poet Lucretiusdescribeth elegantly:-

“Suave mari magno, turbantibus æquora ven-tis, &c.”

“It is a view of delight,” saith he, “to stand orwalk upon the shore side, and to see a ship tos-sed with tempest upon the sea; or to be in afortified tower, and to see two battles join upona plain. But it is a pleasure incomparable, forthe mind of man to be settled, landed, and forti-

fied in the certainty of truth; and from thence todescry and behold the errors, perturbations,labours, and wanderings up and down of othermen.

(6) Lastly, leaving the vulgar arguments, thatby learning man excelleth man in that whereinman excelleth beasts; that by learning man as-cendeth to the heavens and their motions, whe-re in body he cannot come; and the like: let usconclude with the dignity and excellency ofknowledge and learning in that whereuntoman’s nature doth most aspire, which is im-mortality, or continuance; for to this tendethgeneration, and raising of houses and families;to this tend buildings, foundations, and mo-numents; to this tendeth the desire of memory,fame, and celebration; and in effect the strengthof all other human desires. We see then howfar the monuments of wit and learning are mo-re durable than the monuments of power or ofthe hands. For have not the verses of Homer

continued twenty-five hundred years, or more,without the loss of a syllable or letter; duringwhich the infinite palaces, temples, castles, cit-ies, have been decayed and demolished? It isnot possible to have the true pictures or statuesof Cyrus, Alexander, Cæsar, no nor of the kingsor great personages of much later years; for theoriginals cannot last, and the copies cannot butleese of the life and truth. But the images ofmen’s wits and knowledges remain in books,exempted from the wrong of time and capableof perpetual renovation. Neither are they fitlyto be called images, because they generate still,and cast their seeds in the minds of others, pro-voking and causing infinite actions and opin-ions in succeeding ages. So that if the inventionof the ship was thought so noble, which car-rieth riches and commodities from place toplace, and consociateth the most remote re-gions in participation of their fruits, how muchmore are letters to be magnified, which as shipspass through the vast seas of time, and make

ages so distant to participate of the wisdom,illuminations, and inventions, the one of theother? Nay, further, we see some of the phi-losophers which were least divine, and mostimmersed in the senses, and denied generallythe immortality of the soul, yet came to thispoint, that whatsoever motions the spirit ofman could act and perform without the organsof the body, they thought might remain afterdeath, which were only those of the under-standing and not of the affection; so immortaland incorruptible a thing did knowledge seemunto them to be. But we, that know by divinerevelation that not only the understanding butthe affections purified, not only the spirit butthe body changed, shall be advanced to immor-tality, do disclaim in these rudiments of thesenses. But it must be remembered, both in thislast point, and so it may likewise be needful inother places, that in probation of the dignity ofknowledge or learning, I did in the beginningseparate divine testimony from human, which

method I have pursued, and so handled themboth apart.

(7) Nevertheless I do not pretend, and I know itwill be impossible for me, by any pleading ofmine, to reverse the judgment, either of Æsop’scock, that preferred the barleycorn before thegem; or of Midas, that being chosen judge be-tween Apollo, president of the Muses, and Pan,god of the flocks, judged for plenty; or of Paris,that judged for beauty and love against wis-dom and power; or of Agrippina, occidat ma-trem, modo imperet, that preferred empire withany condition never so detestable; or of Ulys-ses, qui vetulam prætulit immortalitati, being afigure of those which prefer custom and habitbefore all excellency, or of a number of the likepopular judgments. For these things must con-tinue as they have been; but so will that alsocontinue whereupon learning hath ever relied,and which faileth not: Justificata est sapientia afiliis suis.

THE SECOND BOOK.To the King.

1. It might seem to have more convenience,though it come often otherwise to pass (excel-lent King), that those which are fruitful in theirgenerations, and have in themselves the fore-sight of immortality in their descendants,should likewise be more careful of the goodestate of future times, unto which they knowthey must transmit and commend over theirdearest pledges. Queen Elizabeth was a so-journer in the world in respect of her unmar-ried life, and was a blessing to her own times;and yet so as the impression of her good gov-ernment, besides her happy memory, is notwithout some effect which doth survive her.

But to your Majesty, whom God hath alreadyblessed with so much royal issue, worthy tocontinue and represent you for ever, and whoseyouthful and fruitful bed doth yet promise ma-ny the like renovations, it is proper and agree-able to be conversant not only in the transitoryparts of good government, but in those actsalso which are in their nature permanent andperpetual. Amongst the which (if affection donot transport me) there is not any more worthythan the further endowment of the world withsound and fruitful knowledge. For why shoulda few received authors stand up like Hercules’columns, beyond which there should be nosailing or discovering, since we have so brightand benign a star as your Majesty to conductand prosper us? To return therefore where weleft, it remaineth to consider of what kind thoseacts are which have been undertaken and per-formed by kings and others for the increase andadvancement of learning, wherein I purpose tospeak actively, without digressing or dilating.

2. Let this ground therefore be laid, that allworks are over common by amplitude of re-ward, by soundness of direction, and by theconjunction of labours. The first multipliethendeavour, the second preventeth error, andthe third supplieth the frailty of man. But theprincipal of these is direction, for claudus in viaantevertit cursorem extra viam; and Solomon ex-cellently setteth it down, “If the iron be notsharp, it requireth more strength, but wisdomis that which prevaileth,” signifying that theinvention or election of the mean is more effec-tual than any enforcement or accumulation ofendeavours. This I am induced to speak, forthat (not derogating from the noble intention ofany that have been deservers towards the stateof learning), I do observe nevertheless that theirworks and acts are rather matters of magnifi-cence and memory than of progression andproficience, and tend rather to augment themass of learning in the multitude of learned

men than to rectify or raise the sciences them-selves.

3. The works or acts of merit towards learningare conversant about three objects - the placesof learning, the books of learning, and the per-sons of the learned. For as water, whether it bethe dew of heaven or the springs of the earth,doth scatter and leese itself in the ground, ex-cept it be collected into some receptacle whereit may by union comfort and sustain itself; andfor that cause the industry of man hath madeand framed springheads, conduits, cisterns,and pools, which men have accustomed like-wise to beautify and adorn with accomplish-ments of magnificence and state, as well as ofuse and necessity; so this excellent liquor ofknowledge, whether it descend from divineinspiration, or spring from human sense,would soon perish and vanish to oblivion, if itwere not preserved in books, traditions, confer-ences, and places appointed, as universities,

colleges, and schools, for the receipt and com-forting of the same.

4. The works which concern the seats and pla-ces of learning are four - foundations andbuildings, endowments with revenues, en-dowments with franchises and privileges, insti-tutions and ordinances for government - alltending to quietness and privateness of life,and discharge of cares and troubles; much likethe stations which Virgil prescribeth for thehiving of bees:

“Principio sedes apibus statioque petenda,Quo neque sit ventis aditus, &c.”

5. The works touching books are two - first,libraries, which are as the shrines where all therelics of the ancient saints, full of true virtue,and that without delusion or imposture, are

preserved and reposed; secondly, new editionsof authors, with more correct impressions, mo-re faithful translations, more profitable glosses,more diligent annotations, and the like.

6. The works pertaining to the persons of lear-ned men (besides the advancement and coun-tenancing of them in general) are two - the re-ward and designation of readers in sciencesalready extant and invented; and the rewardand designation of writers and inquirers con-cerning any parts of learning not sufficientlylaboured and prosecuted.

7. These are summarily the works and actswherein the merits of many excellent princesand other worthy personages, have been con-versant. As for any particular commemora-tions, I call to mind what Cicero said when hegave general thanks, Difficile non aliquem, ingra-tum quenquam præterire. Let us rather, accord-ing to the Scriptures, look unto that part of the

race which is before us, than look back to thatwhich is already attained.

8. First, therefore, amongst so many greatfoundations of colleges in Europe, I find stran-ge that they are all dedicated to professions,and none left free to arts and sciences at large.For if men judge that learning should be re-ferred to action, they judge well; but in thisthey fall into the error described in the ancientfable, in which the other parts of the body didsuppose the stomach had been idle, because itneither performed the office of motion, as thelimbs do, nor of sense, as the head doth; but yetnotwithstanding it is the stomach that digestethand distributeth to all the rest. So if any manthink philosophy and universality to be idlestudies, he doth not consider that all profes-sions are from thence served and supplied.And this I take to be a great cause that hathhindered the progression of learning, becausethese fundamental knowledges have been stud-

ied but in passage. For if you will have a treebear more fruit than it hath used to do, it is notanything you can do to the boughs, but it is thestirring of the earth and putting new mouldabout thee roots that must work it. Neither is itto be forgotten, that this dedicating of founda-tions and dotations to professory learning hathnot only had a malign aspect and influenceupon the growth of sciences, but hath also beenprejudicial to states, and governments. Forhence it proceedeth that princes find a solitudein regard of able men to serve them in causes ofestate, because there is no education collegiatewhich is free, where such as were so disposedmight give themselves in histories, modernlanguages, books of policy and civil discourse,and other the like enablements unto service ofestate.

9. And because founders of colleges do plant,and founders of lectures do water, it followethwell in order to speak of the defect which is in

public lectures; namely, in the smallness, andmeanness of the salary or reward which inmost places is assigned unto them, whetherthey be lectures of arts, or of professions. For itis necessary to the progression of sciences thatreaders be of the most able and sufficient men;as those which are ordained for generating andpropagating of sciences, and not for transitoryuse. This cannot be, except their condition andendowment be such as may content the ablestman to appropriate his whole labour and con-tinue his whole age in that function and atten-dance; and therefore must have a proportionanswerable to that mediocrity or competency ofadvancement, which may be expected from aprofession or the practice of a profession. So as,if you will have sciences flourish, you mustobserve David’s military law, which was, “Thatthose which stayed with the carriage shouldhave equal part with those which were in theaction;” else will the carriages be ill attended.So readers in sciences are indeed the guardians

of the stores and provisions of sciences, whencemen in active courses are furnished, and there-fore ought to have equal entertainment withthem; otherwise if the fathers in sciences be ofthe weakest sort or be ill maintained,

“Et patrum invalidi referent jejunia nati.”

10. Another defect I note, wherein I shall needsome alchemist to help me, who call upon mento sell their books, and to build furnaces; quit-ting and forsaking Minerva and the Muses asbarren virgins, and relying upon Vulcan. Butcertain it is, that unto the deep, fruitful, andoperative study of many sciences, specialtynatural philosophy and physic, books be notonly the instrumentals; wherein also the benefi-cence of men hath not been altogether want-ing. For we see spheres, globes, astrolabes,maps, and the like, have been provided as ap-

purtenances to astronomy and cosmography,as well as books. We see likewise that someplaces instituted for physic have annexed thecommodity of gardens for simples of all sorts,and do likewise command the use of dead bod-ies for anatomies. But these do respect but afew things. In general, there will hardly be anymain proficience in the disclosing of nature,except there be some allowance for expensesabout experiments; whether they be experi-ments appertaining to Vulcanus or Dædalus,furnace or engine, or any other kind. And the-refore as secretaries and spials of princes andstates bring in bills for intelligence, so you mustallow the spials and intelligencers of nature tobring in their bills; or else you shall be ill adver-tised.

11. And if Alexander made such a liberal as-signation to Aristotle of treasure for the allow-ance of hunters, fowlers, fishers, and the like,that he might compile a history of nature, much

better do they deserve it that travail in arts ofnature.

12. Another defect which I note is an intermis-sion or neglect in those which are governors inuniversities, of consultation, and in princes orsuperior persons, of visitation: to enter intoaccount and consideration, whether the read-ings, exercises, and other customs appertainingunto learning, anciently begun and since con-tinued, be well instituted or no; and thereuponto ground an amendment or reformation in thatwhich shall be found inconvenient. For it isone of your Majesty’s own most wise andprincely maxims, “That in all usages and pre-cedents, the times be considered wherein theyfirst began; which if they were weak or igno-rant, it derogateth from the authority of theusage, and leaveth it for suspect.” And there-fore inasmuch as most of the usages and ordersof the universities were derived from more ob-scure times, it is the more requisite they be re-

examined. In this kind I will give an instanceor two, for example sake, of things that are themost obvious and familiar. The one is a matter,which though it be ancient and general, yet Ihold to be an error; which is, that scholars inuniversities come too soon and too unripe tologic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates thanchildren and novices. For these two, rightlytaken, are the gravest of sciences, being the artsof arts; the one for judgment, the other for or-nament. And they be the rules and directionshow to set forth and dispose matter: and there-fore for minds empty and unfraught with mat-ter, and which have not gathered that whichCicero calleth sylva and supellex, stuff and vari-ety, to begin with those arts (as if one shouldlearn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint thewind) doth work but this effect, that the wis-dom of those arts, which is great and universal,is almost made contemptible, and is degenerateinto childish sophistry and ridiculous affecta-tion. And further, the untimely learning of

them hath drawn on by consequence the super-ficial and unprofitable teaching and writing ofthem, as fitteth indeed to the capacity of chil-dren. Another is a lack I find in the exercisesused in the universities, which do snake toogreat a divorce between invention and mem-ory. For their speeches are either premeditate,in verbis conceptis, where nothing is left to in-vention, or merely extemporal, where little isleft to memory. Whereas in life and actionthere is least use of either of these, but rather ofintermixtures of premeditation and invention,notes and memory. So as the exercise fittethnot the practice, nor the image the life; and it isever a true rule in exercises, that they beframed as near as may be to the life of practice;for otherwise they do pervert the motions andfaculties of the mind, and not prepare them.The truth whereof is not obscure, when schol-ars come to the practices of professions, orother actions of civil life; which when they setinto, this want is soon found by themselves,

and sooner by others. But this part, touchingthe amendment of the institutions and orders ofuniversities, I will conclude with the clause ofCæsar’s letter to Oppius and Balbes, Hoc que-madmodum fieri possit, nonnulla mihi in mentemveniunt, et multa reperiri possunt: de iis rebus rgovos ut cogitationem suscipiatis.

13. Another defect which I note ascendeth alittle higher than the precedent. For as the pro-ficience of learning consisteth much in the or-ders and institutions of universities in the samestates and kingdoms, so it would be yet moreadvanced, if there were more intelligence mu-tual between the universities of Europe thannow there is. We see there be many orders andfoundations, which though they be dividedunder several sovereignties and territories, yetthey take themselves to have a kind of contract,fraternity, and correspondence one with theother, insomuch as they have provincials andgenerals. And surely as nature createth broth-

erhood in families, and arts mechanical contractbrotherhoods in communalties, and theanointment of God superinduceth a brother-hood in kings and bishops, so in like mannerthere cannot but be a fraternity in learning andillumination, relating to that paternity which isattributed to God, who is called the Father ofilluminations or lights.

14. The last defect which I will note is, thatthere hath not been, or very rarely been, anypublic designation of writers or inquirers con-cerning such parts of knowledge as may appearnot to have been already sufficiently labouredor undertaken; unto which point it is an in-ducement to enter into a view and examinationwhat parts of learning have been prosecuted,and what omitted. For the opinion of plenty isamongst the causes of want, and the greatquantity of books maketh a show rather of su-perfluity than lack; which surcharge neverthe-less is not to be remedied by making no more

books, but by making more good books, which,as the serpent of Moses, might devour the ser-pents of the enchanters.

15. The removing of all the defects formerlyenumerate, except the last, and of the activepart also of the last (which is the designation ofwriters), are opera basilica; towards which theendeavours of a private man may be but as animage in a crossway, that may point at the way,but cannot go it. But the inducing part of thelatter (which is the survey of learning) may beset forward by private travail. Wherefore I willnow attempt to make a general and faithfulperambulation of learning, with an inquirywhat parts thereof lie fresh and waste, and notimproved and converted by the industry ofman, to the end that such a plot made and re-corded to memory may both minister light toany public designation, and, also serve to excitevoluntary endeavours. Wherein, nevertheless,my purpose is at this time to note only omis-

sions and deficiences, and not to make any re-dargution of errors or incomplete prosecu-tions. For it is one thing to set forth whatground lieth unmanured, and another thing tocorrect ill husbandry in that which is manured.

In the handling and undertaking of which workI am not ignorant what it is that I do now moveand attempt, nor insensible of mine own weak-ness to sustain my purpose. But my hope is,that if my extreme love to learning carry me toofar, I may obtain the excuse of affection; for that“It is not granted to man to love and to be wi-se.” But I know well I can use no other libertyof judgment than I must leave to others; and Ifor my part shall be indifferently glad either toperform myself, or accept from another, thatduty of humanity - Nam qui erranti comiter mon-strat viam, &c. I do foresee likewise that ofthose things which I shall enter and register asdeficiences and omissions, many will conceiveand censure that some of them are already do-

ne and extant; others to be but curiosities, andthings of no great use; and others to be of toogreat difficulty, and almost impossibility to becompassed and effected. But for the two first, Irefer myself to the particulars. For the last, tou-ching impossibility, I take it those things are tobe held possible which may be done by someperson, though not by every one; and whichmay be done by many, though not by any one;and which may be done in the succession ofages, though not within the hourglass of oneman’s life; and which may be done by publicdesignation, though not by private endeavour.But, notwithstanding, if any man will take tohimself rather that of Solomon, “Dicit piger, Leoest in via,” than that of Virgil, “Possunt quia pos-se videntur,” I shall be content that my laboursbe esteemed but as the better sort of wishes; foras it asketh some knowledge to demand a ques-tion not impertinent, so it requireth some senseto make a wish not absurd.

I. (1) The parts of human learning have refer-ence to the three parts of man’s understanding,which is the seat of learning: history to his me-mory, poesy to his imagination, and philoso-phy to his reason. Divine learning receiveth thesame distribution; for, the spirit of man is thesame, though the revelation of oracle and sensebe diverse. So as theology consisteth also ofhistory of the Church; of parables, which isdivine poesy; and of holy doctrine or precept.For as for that part which seemeth supernu-merary, which is prophecy, it is but divine his-tory, which hath that prerogative over human,as the narration may be before the fact as wellas after.

(2) History is natural, civil, ecclesiastical, andliterary; whereof the first three I allow as ex-tant, the fourth I note as deficient. For no manhath propounded to himself the general state oflearning to be described and represented fromage to age, as many have done the works of

Nature, and the state, civil and ecclesiastical;without which the history of the world seemethto me to be as the statue of Polyphemus withhis eye out, that part being wanting which dothmost show the spirit and life of the person.And yet I am not ignorant that in divers par-ticular sciences, as of the jurisconsults, the mat-hematicians, the rhetoricians, the philosophers,there are set down some small memorials of theschools, authors, and books; and so likewisesome barren relations touching the invention ofarts or usages. But a just story of learning, con-taining the antiquities and originals of knowl-edges and their sects, their inventions, theirtraditions, their diverse administrations andmanagings, their flourishings, their opposi-tions, decays, depressions, oblivions, removes,with the causes and occasions of them, and allother events concerning learning, throughoutthe ages of the world, I may truly affirm to bewanting; the use and end of which work I donot so much design for curiosity or satisfaction

of those that are the lovers of learning, but chie-fly for a more serious and grave purpose,which is this in few words, that it will makelearned men wise in the use and administrationof learning. For it is not Saint Augustine’s norSaint Ambrose’s works that will make so wise adivine as ecclesiastical history thoroughly readand observed, and the same reason is of learn-ing.

(3) History of Nature is of three sorts; of Naturein course, of Nature erring or varying, and ofNature altered or wrought; that is, history ofcreatures, history of marvels, and history ofarts. The first of these no doubt is extant, andthat in good perfection; the two latter are ban-died so weakly and unprofitably as I am movedto note them as deficient. For I find no suffi-cient or competent collection of the works ofNature which have a digression and deflexionfrom the ordinary course of generations, pro-ductions, and motions; whether they be singu-

larities of place and region, or the strangeevents of time and chance, or the effects of yetunknown properties, or the instances of excep-tion to general kinds. It is true I find a numberof books of fabulous experiments and secrets,and frivolous impostures for pleasure andstrangeness; but a substantial and severe collec-tion of the heteroclites or irregulars of Nature,well examined and described, I find not, spe-cially not with due rejection of fables and popu-lar errors. For as things now are, if an untruthin Nature be once on foot, what by reason ofthe neglect of examination, and countenance ofantiquity, and what by reason of the use of theopinion in similitudes and ornaments ofspeech, it is never called down.

(4) The use of this work, honoured with a pre-cedent in Aristotle, is nothing less than to givecontentment to the appetite of curious and vainwits, as the manner of Mirabilaries is to do; butfor two reasons, both of great weight: the one to

correct the partiality of axioms and opinions,which are commonly framed only upon com-mon and familiar examples; the other becausefrom the wonders of Nature is the nearest intel-ligence and passage towards the wonders ofart, for it is no more but by following and, as itwere, hounding Nature in her wanderings, tobe able to lead her afterwards to the same placeagain. Neither am I of opinion, in this historyof marvels, that superstitious narrations of sor-ceries, witchcrafts, dreams, divinations, and thelike, where there is an assurance and clear evi-dence of the fact, be altogether excluded. For itis not yet known in what cases and how fareffects attributed to superstition do participateof natural causes; and, therefore, howsoever thepractice of such things is to be condemned, yetfrom the speculation and consideration of themlight may be taken, not only for the discerningof the offences, but for the further disclosing ofNature. Neither ought a man to make scrupleof entering into these things for inquisition of

truth, as your Majesty hath showed in yourown example, who, with the two clear eyes ofreligion and natural philosophy, have lookeddeeply and wisely into these shadows, and yetproved yourself to be of the nature of the sun,which passeth through pollutions and itselfremains as pure as before. But this I hold fit,that these narrations, which have mixture withsuperstition, be sorted by themselves, and notto be mingled with the narrations which aremerely and sincerely natural. But as for thenarrations touching the prodigies and miraclesof religions, they are either not true or not natu-ral; and, therefore, impertinent for the story ofNature.

(5) For history of Nature, wrought or mechani-cal, I find some collections made of agriculture,and likewise of manual arts; but commonlywith a rejection of experiments familiar andvulgar; for it is esteemed a kind of dishonourunto learning to descend to inquiry or medita-

tion upon matters mechanical, except they besuch as may be thought secrets, rarities, andspecial subtleties; which humour of vain andsupercilious arrogancy is justly derided in Pla-to, where he brings in Hippias, a vaunting sop-hist, disputing with Socrates, a true and un-feigned inquisitor of truth; where, the subjectbeing touching beauty, Socrates, after his wan-dering manner of inductions, put first an ex-ample of a fair virgin, and then of a fair horse,and then of a fair pot well glazed, whereatHippias was offended, and said, “More than forcourtesy’s sake, he did think much to disputewith any that did allege such base and sordidinstances.” Whereunto Socrates answereth,“You have reason, and it becomes you well,being a man so trim in your vestments,” &c.,and so goeth on in an irony. But the truth is,they be not the highest instances that give thesecurest information, as may be well expressedin the tale so common of the philosopher that,while he gazed upwards to the stars, fell into

the water; for if he had looked down he mighthave seen the stars in the water, but lookingaloft he could not see the water in the stars. Soit cometh often to pass that mean and smallthings discover great, better than great can dis-cover the small; and therefore Aristotle notethwell, “That the nature of everything is best seenin his smallest portions.” And for that cause heinquireth the nature of a commonwealth, firstin a family, and the simple conjugations of manand wife, parent and child, master and servant,which are in every cottage. Even so likewisethe nature of this great city of the world, andthe policy thereof, must be first sought in meanconcordances and small portions. So we seehow that secret of Nature, of the turning of irontouched with the loadstone towards the north,was found out in needles of iron, not in bars ofiron.

(6) But if my judgment be of any weight, theuse of history mechanical is of all others the

most radical and fundamental towards naturalphilosophy; such natural philosophy as shallnot vanish in the fume of subtle, sublime, ordelectable speculation, but such as shall be op-erative to the endowment and benefit of man’slife. For it will not only minister and suggestfor the present many ingenious practices in alltrades, by a connection and transferring of theobservations of one art to the use of another,when the experiences of several mysteries shallfall under the consideration of one man’s mind;but further, it will give a more true and realillumination concerning causes and axiomsthan is hitherto attained. For like as a man’sdisposition is never well known till he be cros-sed, nor Proteus ever changed shapes till hewas straitened and held fast; so the passagesand variations of nature cannot appear so fullyin the liberty of nature as in the trials and vexa-tions of art.

II. (1) For civil history, it is of three kinds; not

unfitly to be compared with the three kinds ofpictures or images. For of pictures or imageswe see some are unfinished, some are perfect,and some are defaced. So of histories we mayfind three kinds: memorials, perfect histories,and antiquities; for memorials are history un-finished, or the first or rough drafts of history;and antiquities are history defaced, or someremnants of history which have casually es-caped the shipwreck of time.

(2) Memorials, or preparatory history, are oftwo sorts; whereof the one may be termedcommentaries, and the other registers. Com-mentaries are they which set down a continu-ance of the naked events and actions, withoutthe motives or designs, the counsels, thespeeches, the pretexts, the occasions, and otherpassages of action. For this is the true nature ofa commentary (though Cæsar, in modestymixed with greatness, did for his pleasure ap-ply the name of a commentary to the best his-

tory of the world). Registers are collections ofpublic acts, as decrees of council, judicial pro-ceedings, declarations and letters of estate, ora-tions, and the like, without a perfect continu-ance or contexture of the thread of the narra-tion.

(3) Antiquities, or remnants of history, are, aswas said, tanquam tabula naufragii: when indus-trious persons, by an exact and scrupulous dili-gence and observation, out of monuments, na-mes, words, proverbs, traditions, private re-cords and evidences, fragments of stories, pas-sages of books that concern not story, and thelike, do save and recover somewhat from thedeluge of time.

(4) In these kinds of unperfect histories I doassign no deficience, for they are tanquam imper-fecte mista; and therefore any deficience in themis but their nature. As for the corruptions andmoths of history, which are epitomes, the use of

them deserveth to be banished, as all men ofsound judgment have confessed, as those thathave fretted and corroded the sound bodies ofmany excellent histories, and wrought theminto base and unprofitable dregs.

(5) History, which may be called just and per-fect history, is of three kinds, according to theobject which it propoundeth, or pretendeth torepresent: for it either representeth a time, or aperson, or an action. The first we call chroni-cles, the second lives, and the third narrationsor relations. Of these, although the first be themost complete and absolute kind of history,and hath most estimation and glory, yet thesecond excelleth it in profit and use, and thethird in verity and sincerity. For history of ti-mes representeth the magnitude of actions, andthe public faces and deportments of persons,and passeth over in silence the smaller passagesand motions of men and matters. But such be-ing the workmanship of God, as He doth hang

the greatest weight upon the smallest wires,maxima è minimis, suspendens, it comes thereforeto pass, that such histories do rather set forththe pomp of business than the true and inwardresorts thereof. But lives, if they be well writ-ten, propounding to themselves a person torepresent, in whom actions, both greater andsmaller, public and private, have a commixture,must of necessity contain a more true, native,and lively representation. So again narrationsand relations of actions, as the war of Pelopon-nesus, the expedition of Cyrus Minor, the con-spiracy of Catiline, cannot but be more purelyand exactly true than histories of times, becausethey may choose an argument comprehensiblewithin the notice and instructions of the writer:whereas he that undertaketh the story of a time,specially of any length, cannot but meet withmany blanks and spaces, which he must beforced to fill up out of his own wit and conjec-ture.

(6) For the history of times, I mean of civil his-tory, the providence of God hath made the dis-tribution. For it hath pleased God to ordainand illustrate two exemplar states of the worldfor arms, learning, moral virtue, policy, andlaws; the state of Græcia and the state of Rome;the histories whereof occupying the middlepart of time, have more ancient to them histo-ries which may by one common name be ter-med the antiquities of the world; and afterthem, histories which may be likewise called bythe name of modern history.

(7) Now to speak of the deficiences. As to theheathen antiquities of the world it is in vain tonote them for deficient. Deficient they are nodoubt, consisting most of fables and fragments;but the deficience cannot be holpen; for antiq-uity is like fame, caput inter nubila condit, herhead is muffled from our sight. For the historyof the exemplar states, it is extant in good per-fection. Not but I could wish there were a per-

fect course of history for Græcia, from Theseusto Philopœmen (what time the affairs of Græciadrowned and extinguished in the affairs ofRome), and for Rome from Romulus to Justin-ianus, who may be truly said to be ultimus Ro-manorum. In which sequences of story the textof Thucydides and Xenophon in the one, andthe texts of Livius, Polybius, Sallustius, Cæsar,Appianus, Tacitus, Herodianus in the other, tobe kept entire, without any diminution at all,and only to be supplied and continued. Butthis is a matter of magnificence, rather to becommended than required; and we speak nowof parts of learning supplemental, and not ofsupererogation.

(8) But for modern histories, whereof there aresome few very worthy, but the greater partbeneath mediocrity, leaving the care of foreignstories to foreign states, because I will not becuriosus in aliena republica, I cannot fail to repre-sent to your Majesty the unworthiness of the

history of England in the main continuancethereof, and the partiality and obliquity of thatof Scotland in the latest and largest author thatI have seen: supposing that it would be honourfor your Majesty, and a work very memorable,if this island of Great Britain, as it is now joinedin monarchy for the ages to come, so were joi-ned in one history for the times passed, afterthe manner of the sacred history, which dra-weth down the story of the ten tribes and of thetwo tribes as twins together. And if it shallseem that the greatness of this work may makeit less exactly performed, there is an excellentperiod of a much smaller compass of time, as tothe story of England; that is to say, from theuniting of the Roses to the uniting of the king-doms; a portion of time wherein, to my under-standing, there hath been the rarest varietiesthat in like number of successions of any he-reditary monarchy hath been known. For itbeginneth with the mixed adoption of a crownby arms and title; an entry by battle, an estab-

lishment by marriage; and therefore times an-swerable, like waters after a tempest, full ofworking and swelling, though without extrem-ity of storm; but well passed through by thewisdom of the pilot, being one of the most suf-ficient kings of all the number. Then followeththe reign of a king, whose actions, howsoeverconducted, had much intermixture with theaffairs of Europe, balancing and inclining themvariably; in whose time also began that greatalteration in the state ecclesiastical, an actionwhich seldom cometh upon the stage. Then thereign of a minor; then an offer of a usurpation(though it was but as febris ephemera). Then thereign of a queen matched with a foreigner; thenof a queen that lived solitary and unmarried,and yet her government so masculine, as it hadgreater impression and operation upon the sta-tes abroad than it any ways received fromthence. And now last, this most happy andglorious event, that this island of Britain, di-vided from all the world, should be united in

itself, and that oracle of rest given to ÆNeas,antiquam exquirite matrem, should now be per-formed and fulfilled upon the nations of Eng-land and Scotland, being now reunited in theancient mother name of Britain, as a full periodof all instability and peregrinations. So that asit cometh to pass in massive bodies, that theyhave certain trepidations and waverings beforethey fix and settle, so it seemeth that by theprovidence of God this monarchy, before it wasto settle in your majesty and your generations(in which I hope it is now established for ever),it had these prelusive changes and varieties.

(9) For lives, I do find strange that these timeshave so little esteemed the virtues of the times,as that the writings of lives should be no morefrequent. For although there be not many sov-ereign princes or absolute commanders, andthat states are most collected into monarchies,yet are there many worthy personages that de-serve better than dispersed report or barren

eulogies. For herein the invention of one of thelate poets is proper, and doth well enrich theancient fiction. For he feigneth that at the endof the thread or web of every man’s life therewas a little medal containing the person’sname, and that Time waited upon the shears,and as soon as the thread was cut caught themedals, and carried them to the river of Lathe;and about the bank there were many birds fly-ing up and down, that would get the medalsand carry them in their beak a little while, andthen let them fall into the river. Only therewere a few swans, which if they got a namewould carry it to a temple where it was conse-crate. And although many men, more mortal intheir affections than in their bodies, do esteemdesire of name and memory but as a vanity andventosity,

“Animi nil magnæ laudis egentes;”

which opinion cometh from that root, Non priuslaudes contempsimus, quam laudanda facere de-sivimus: yet that will not alter Solomon’s judg-ment, Memoria justi cum laudibus, at impiorumnomen putrescet: the one flourisheth, the othereither consumeth to present oblivion, or tur-neth to an ill odour. And therefore in that styleor addition, which is and hath been long wellreceived and brought in use, felicis memoriæ, piæmemoriæ, bonæ memoriæ, we do acknowledgethat which Cicero saith, borrowing it from De-mosthenes, that bona fama propria possessio de-functorum; which possession I cannot but notethat in our times it lieth much waste, and thattherein there is a deficience.

(10) For narrations and relations of particularactions, there were also to be wished a greaterdiligence therein; for there is no great actionbut hath some good pen which attends it. Andbecause it is an ability not common to write a

good history, as may well appear by the smallnumber of them; yet if particularity of actionsmemorable were but tolerably reported as theypass, the compiling of a complete history oftimes might be the better expected, when a wri-ter should arise that were fit for it: for the col-lection of such relations might be as a nurserygarden, whereby to plant a fair and stately gar-den when time should serve.

(11) There is yet another partition of historywhich Cornelius Tacitus maketh, which is notto be forgotten, specially with that applicationwhich he accoupleth it withal, annals and jour-nals: appropriating to the former matters ofestate, and to the latter acts and accidents of ameaner nature. For giving but a touch of cer-tain magnificent buildings, he addeth, Cum exdignitate populi Romani repertum sit, res illustresannalibus, talia diurnis urbis actis mandare. So asthere is a kind of contemplative heraldry, aswell as civil. And as nothing doth derogate

from the dignity of a state more than confusionof degrees, so it doth not a little imbase the au-thority of a history to intermingle matters oftriumph, or matters of ceremony, or matters ofnovelty, with matters of state. But the use of ajournal hath not only been in the history of ti-me, but likewise in the history of persons, andchiefly of actions; for princes in ancient timehad, upon point of honour and policy both,journals kept, what passed day by day. For wesee the chronicle which was read before Aha-suerus, when he could not take rest, containedmatter of affairs, indeed, but such as had pas-sed in his own time and very lately before. Butthe journal of Alexander’s house expressedevery small particularity, even concerning hisperson and court; and it is yet a use well re-ceived in enterprises memorable, as expedi-tions of war, navigations, and the like, to keepdiaries of that which passeth continually.

(12) I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form of

writing which some grave and wise men haveused, containing a scattered history of thoseactions which they have thought worthy ofmemory, with politic discourse and observationthereupon: not incorporate into the history, butseparately, and as the more principal in theirintention; which kind of ruminated history Ithink more fit to place amongst books of policy,whereof we shall hereafter speak, than amongstbooks of history. For it is the true office of his-tory to represent the events themselves to-gether with the counsels, and to leave the ob-servations and conclusions thereupon to theliberty and faculty of every man’s judgment.But mixtures are things irregular, whereof noman can define.

(13) So also is there another kind of history ma-nifoldly mixed, and that is history of cosmog-raphy: being compounded of natural history, inrespect of the regions themselves; of historycivil, in respect of the habitations, regiments,

and manners of the people; and the mathemat-ics, in respect of the climates and configura-tions towards the heavens: which part of learn-ing of all others in this latter time hath obtainedmost proficience. For it may be truly affirmedto the honour of these times, and in a virtuousemulation with antiquity, that this great build-ing of the world had never through-lights madein it, till the age of us and our fathers. For al-though they had knowledge of the antipodes,

“Nosque ubi primus equis Oriens afflavit an-helis,Illic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper,”

yet that might be by demonstration, and not infact; and if by travel, it requireth the voyage butof half the globe. But to circle the earth, as theheavenly bodies do, was not done nor enter-prised till these later times: and therefore these

times may justly bear in their word, not onlyplus ultra, in precedence of the ancient non ultra,and imitabile fulmen, in precedence of the an-cient non imitabile fulmen,

“Demens qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen,”&c.

but likewise imitabile cælum; in respect of themany memorable voyages after the manner ofheaven about the globe of the earth.

(14) And this proficience in navigation and dis-coveries may plant also an expectation of thefurther proficience and augmentation of allsciences; because it may seem they are or-dained by God to be coevals, that is, to meet inone age. For so the prophet Daniel speaking ofthe latter times foretelleth, Plurimi pertransibunt,et multiplex erit scientia: as if the openness and

through-passage of the world and the increaseof knowledge were appointed to be in the sameages; as we see it is already performed in greatpart: the learning of these later times not muchgiving place to the former two periods or re-turns of learning, the one of the Grecians, theother of the Romans.

III. (1) History ecclesiastical receiveth the samedivisions with history civil: but further in thepropriety thereof may be divided into the his-tory of the Church, by a general name; historyof prophecy; and history of providence. Thefirst describeth the times of the militantChurch, whether it be fluctuant, as the ark ofNoah, or movable, as the ark in the wilderness,or at rest, as the ark in the Temple: that is, thestate of the Church in persecution, in remove,and in peace. This part I ought in no sort tonote as deficient; only I would that the virtueand sincerity of it were according to the massand quantity. But I am not now in hand with

censures, but with omissions.

(2) The second, which is history of prophecy,consisteth of two relatives - the prophecy andthe accomplishment; and, therefore, the natureof such a work ought to be, that every proph-ecy of the Scripture be sorted with the eventfulfilling the same throughout the ages of theworld, both for the better confirmation of faithand for the better illumination of the Churchtouching those parts of prophecies which areyet unfulfilled: allowing, nevertheless, that lati-tude which is agreeable and familiar unto di-vine prophecies, being of the nature of theirAuthor, with whom a thousand years are but asone day, and therefore are not fulfilled punctu-ally at once, but have springing and germinantaccomplishment throughout many ages,though the height or fulness of them may referto some one age. This is a work which I finddeficient, but is to be done with wisdom, sobri-ety, and reverence, or not at all.

(3) The third, which is history of Providence,containeth that excellent correspondence whichis between God’s revealed will and His secretwill; which though it be so obscure, as for themost part it is not legible to the natural man -no, nor many times to those that behold it fromthe tabernacle - yet, at some times it pleasethGod, for our better establishment and the con-futing of those which are as without God in theworld, to write it in such text and capital letters,that, as the prophet saith, “He that runneth bymay read it” - that is, mere sensual persons,which hasten by God’s judgments, and neverbend or fix their cogitations upon them, arenevertheless in their passage and race urged todiscern it. Such are the notable events and ex-amples of God’s judgments, chastisements,deliverances, and blessings; and this is a workwhich has passed through the labour of many,and therefore I cannot present as omitted.

(4) There are also other parts of learning whichare appendices to history. For all the exteriorproceedings of man consist of words anddeeds, whereof history doth properly receiveand retain in memory the deeds; and if words,yet but as inducements and passages to deeds;so are there other books and writings which areappropriate to the custody and receipt of wordsonly, which likewise are of three sorts - ora-tions, letters, and brief speeches or sayings.Orations are pleadings, speeches of counsel,laudatives, invectives, apologies, reprehen-sions, orations of formality or ceremony, andthe like. Letters are according to all the varietyof occasions, advertisements, advises, direc-tions, propositions, petitions, commendatory,expostulatory, satisfactory, of compliment, ofpleasure, of discourse, and all other passages ofaction. And such as are written from wise men,are of all the words of man, in my judgment,the best; for they are more natural than orationsand public speeches, and more advised than

conferences or present speeches. So again let-ters of affairs from such as manage them, or areprivy to them, are of all others the best instruc-tions for history, and to a diligent reader thebest histories in themselves. For apophthegms,it is a great loss of that book of Cæsar’s; for ashis history, and those few letters of his whichwe have, and those apophthegms which wereof his own, excel all men’s else, so I supposewould his collection of apophthegms have do-ne; for as for those which are collected by oth-ers, either I have no taste in such matters or elsetheir choice hath not been happy. But uponthese three kinds of writings I do not insist,because I have no deficiences to propound con-cerning them.

(5) Thus much therefore concerning history,which is that part of learning which answerethto one of the cells, domiciles, or offices of themind of man, which is that of the memory.

IV. (1) Poesy is a part of learning in measure ofwords, for the most part restrained, but in allother points extremely licensed, and doth trulyrefer to the imagination; which, being not tiedto the laws of matter, may at pleasure join thatwhich nature hath severed, and sever thatwhich nature hath joined, and so make unlaw-ful matches and divorces of things - Pictoribusatque poetis, &c. It is taken in two senses in re-spect of words or matter. In the first sense, it isbut a character of style, and belongeth to arts ofspeech, and is not pertinent for the present. Inthe latter, it is - as hath been said - one of theprincipal portions of learning, and is nothingelse but feigned history, which may be styled aswell in prose as in verse.

(2) The use of this feigned history hath been togive some shadow of satisfaction to the mind ofman in those points wherein the nature ofthings doth deny it, the world being in propor-tion inferior to the soul; by reason whereof the-

re is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more am-ple greatness, a more exact goodness, and amore absolute variety, than can be found in thenature of things. Therefore, because the acts orevents of true history have not that magnitudewhich satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feig-neth acts and events greater and more heroical.Because true history propoundeth the successesand issues of actions not so agreeable to themerits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feignsthem more just in retribution, and more accord-ing to revealed Providence. Because true his-tory representeth actions and events more or-dinary and less interchanged, therefore poesyendueth them with more rareness and moreunexpected and alternative variations. So as itappeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth tomagnanimity, morality and to delectation. Andtherefore, it was ever thought to have someparticipation of divineness, because it doth rai-se and erect the mind, by submitting the showsof things to the desires of the mind; whereas

reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto thenature of things. And we see that by these in-sinuations and congruities with man’s natureand pleasure, joined also with the agreementand consort it hath with music, it hath had ac-cess and estimation in rude times and barba-rous regions, where other learning stood ex-cluded.

(3) The division of poesy which is aptest in thepropriety thereof (besides those divisionswhich are common unto it with history, asfeigned chronicles, feigned lives, and the ap-pendices of history, as feigned epistles, feignedorations, and the rest) is into poesy narrative,representative, and allusive. The narrative is amere imitation of history, with the excessesbefore remembered, choosing for subjectscommonly wars and love, rarely state, and so-metimes pleasure or mirth. Representative isas a visible history, and is an image of actionsas if they were present, as history is of actions

in nature as they are (that is) past. Allusive, orparabolical, is a narration applied only to ex-press some special purpose or conceit; whichlatter kind of parabolical wisdom was muchmore in use in the ancient times, as by the fa-bles of Æsop, and the brief sentences of theseven, and the use of hieroglyphics may ap-pear. And the cause was (for that it was then ofnecessity to express any point of reason whichwas more sharp or subtle than the vulgar inthat manner) because men in those times wan-ted both variety of examples and subtlety ofconceit. And as hieroglyphics were before let-ters, so parables were before arguments; andnevertheless now and at all times they do retainmuch life and rigour, because reason cannot beso sensible nor examples so fit.

(4) But there remaineth yet another use of po-esy parabolical, opposite to that which we lastmentioned; for that tendeth to demonstrate andillustrate that which is taught or delivered, and

this other to retire and obscure it - that is, whenthe secrets and mysteries of religion, policy, orphilosophy, are involved in fables or parables.Of this in divine poesy we see the use is author-ised. In heathen poesy we see the exposition offables doth fall out sometimes with great felic-ity: as in the fable that the giants being over-thrown in their war against the gods, the earththeir mother in revenge thereof brought forthFame:

“Illam terra parens, ira irritat Deorum,Extremam, ut perhibent, Cœo Enceladoquesoroem,Progenuit.”

Expounded that when princes and monarchshave suppressed actual and open rebels, thenthe malignity of people (which is the mother ofrebellion) doth bring forth libels and slanders,

and taxations of the states, which is of the samekind with rebellion but more feminine. So inthe fable that the rest of the gods having con-spired to bind Jupiter, Pallas called Briareuswith his hundred hands to his aid: expoundedthat monarchies need not fear any curbing oftheir absoluteness by mighty subjects, as longas by wisdom they keep the hearts of the peo-ple, who will be sure to come in on their side.So in the fable that Achilles was brought upunder Chiron, the centaur, who was part a manand part a beast, expounded ingeniously butcorruptly by Machiavel, that it belongeth to theeducation and discipline of princes to know aswell how to play the part of a lion in violence,and the fox in guile, as of the man in virtue andjustice. Nevertheless, in many the like encoun-ters, I do rather think that the fable was first,and the exposition devised, than that the moralwas first, and thereupon the fable framed; for Ifind it was an ancient vanity in Chrysippus,that troubled himself with great contention to

fasten the assertions of the Stoics upon the fic-tions of the ancient poets; but yet that all thefables and fictions of the poets were but pleas-ure and not figure, I interpose no opinion.Surely of these poets which are now extant,even Homer himself (notwithstanding he wasmade a kind of scripture by the later schools ofthe Grecians), yet I should without any diffi-culty pronounce that his fables had no suchinwardness in his own meaning. But what theymight have upon a more original tradition isnot easy to affirm, for he was not the inventorof many of them.

(5) In this third part of learning, which is poesy,I can report no deficience; for being as a plantthat cometh of the lust of the earth, without aformal seed, it hath sprung up and spreadabroad more than any other kind. But to as-cribe unto it that which is due, for the express-ing of affections, passions, corruptions, andcustoms, we are beholding to poets more than

to the philosophers’ works; and for wit andeloquence, not much less than to orators’ ha-rangues. But it is not good to stay too long inthe theatre. Let us now pass on to the judicialplace or palace of the mind, which we are toapproach and view with more reverence andattention.

V. (1) The knowledge of man is as the waters,some descending from above, and some spring-ing from beneath: the one informed by the lightof nature, the other inspired by divine revela-tion. The light of nature consisteth in the no-tions of the mind and the reports of the senses;for as for knowledge which man receiveth byteaching, it is cumulative and not original, as ina water that besides his own spring-head is fedwith other springs and streams. So then, ac-cording to these two differing illuminations ororiginals, knowledge is first of all divided intodivinity and philosophy.

(2) In philosophy the contemplations of man doeither penetrate unto God, or are circumferredto nature, or are reflected or reverted uponhimself. Out of which several inquiries theredo arise three knowledges - divine philosophy,natural philosophy, and human philosophy orhumanity. For all things are marked and stam-ped with this triple character - the power ofGod, the difference of nature and the use ofman. But because the distributions and parti-tions of knowledge are not like several linesthat meet in one angle, and so touch but in apoint, but are like branches of a tree that meetin a stem, which hath a dimension and quantityof entireness and continuance before it come todiscontinue and break itself into arms andboughs; therefore it is good, before we enterinto the former distribution, to erect and consti-tute one universal science, by the name of phi-losophia prima, primitive or summary philoso-phy, as the main and common way, before wecome where the ways part and divide them-

selves; which science whether I should reportas deficient or no, I stand doubtful. For I find acertain rhapsody of natural theology, and ofdivers parts of logic; and of that part of naturalphilosophy which concerneth the principles,and of that other part of natural philosophywhich concerneth the soul or spirit - all thesestrangely commixed and confused; but beingexamined, it seemeth to me rather a depreda-tion of other sciences, advanced and exaltedunto some height of terms, than anything solidor substantive of itself. Nevertheless I cannotbe ignorant of the distinction which is current,that the same things are handled but in severalrespects. As for example, that logic considerethof many things as they are in notion, and thisphilosophy as they are in nature - the one inappearance, the other in existence; but I findthis difference better made than pursued. For ifthey had considered quantity, similitude, di-versity, and the rest of those extern charactersof things, as philosophers, and in nature, their

inquiries must of force have been of a far otherkind than they are. For doth any of them, inhandling quantity, speak of the force of union,how and how far it multiplieth virtue? Dothany give the reason why some things in natureare so common, and in so great mass, and oth-ers so rare, and in so small quantity? Doth any,in handling similitude and diversity, assign thecause why iron should not move to iron, whichis more like, but move to the loadstone, whichis less like? Why in all diversities of thingsthere should be certain participles in naturewhich are almost ambiguous to which kindthey should be referred? But there is a mereand deep silence touching the nature and op-eration of those common adjuncts of things, asin nature; and only a resuming and repeating ofthe force and use of them in speech or argu-ment. Therefore, because in a writing of thisnature I avoid all subtlety, my meaning touch-ing this original or universal philosophy isthus, in a plain and gross description by nega-

tive: “That it be a receptacle for all such profit-able observations and axioms as fall not withinthe compass of any of the special parts of phi-losophy or sciences, but are more common andof a higher stage.”

(3) Now that there are many of that kind neednot be doubted. For example: Is not the rule, Siinœqualibus æqualia addas, omnia erunt inæqualia,an axiom as well of justice as of the mathemat-ics? and is there not a true coincidence betweencommutative and distributive justice, and ar-ithmetical and geometrical proportion? Is notthat other rule, Quæ in eodem tertio conveniunt, etinter se conveniunt, a rule taken from the mat-hematics, but so potent in logic as all syllogismsare built upon it? Is not the observation, Omniamutantur, nil interit, a contemplation in phi-losophy thus, that the quantum of nature is eter-nal? in natural theology thus, that it requireththe same omnipotency to make somewhat not-hing, which at the first made nothing some-

what? according to the Scripture, Didici quodomnia opera, quœ fecit Deus, perseverent in per-petuum; non possumus eis quicquam addere necauferre. Is not the ground, which Machiavelwisely and largely discourseth concerning gov-ernments, that the way to establish and pre-serve them is to reduce them ad principia - a rulein religion and nature, as well as in civil ad-ministration? Was not the Persian magic a re-duction or correspondence of the principlesand architectures of nature to the rules andpolicy of governments? Is not the precept of amusician, to fall from a discord or harsh accordupon a concord or sweet accord, alike true inaffection? Is not the trope of music, to avoid orslide from the close or cadence, common withthe trope of rhetoric of deceiving expectation?Is not the delight of the quavering upon a stopin music the same with the playing of lightupon the water?

“Splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus.”

Are not the organs of the senses of one kindwith the organs of reflection, the eye with aglass, the ear with a cave or strait, determinedand bounded? Neither are these only simili-tudes, as men of narrow observation may con-ceive them to be, but the same footsteps of na-ture, treading or printing upon several subjectsor matters. This science therefore (as I under-stand it) I may justly report as deficient; for Isee sometimes the profounder sort of wits, inhandling some particular argument, will nowand then draw a bucket of water out of thiswell for their present use; but the spring-headthereof seemeth to me not to have been visited,being of so excellent use both for the disclosingof nature and the abridgment of art.

VI. (1) This science being therefore first placedas a common parent like unto Berecynthia,

which had so much heavenly issue, omnes cœli-colas, omnes supera alta tenetes; we may return tothe former distribution of the three philoso-phies - divine, natural, and human. And asconcerning divine philosophy or natural theol-ogy, it is that knowledge or rudiment of know-ledge concerning God which may be obtainedby the contemplation of His creatures; whichknowledge may be truly termed divine in re-spect of the object, and natural in respect of thelight. The bounds of this knowledge are, that itsufficeth to convince atheism, but not to informreligion; and therefore there was never miraclewrought by God to convert an atheist, becausethe light of nature might have led him to con-fess a God; but miracles have been wrought toconvert idolaters and the superstitious, becauseno light of nature extendeth to declare the willand true worship of God. For as all works doshow forth the power and skill of the workman,and not his image, so it is of the works of God,which do show the omnipotency and wisdom

of the Maker, but not His image. And thereforetherein the heathen opinion differeth from thesacred truth: for they supposed the world to bethe image of God, and man to be an extract orcompendious image of the world; but the Scrip-tures never vouchsafe to attribute to the worldthat honour, as to be the image of God, but onlythe work of His hands; neither do they speak ofany other image of God but man. Whereforeby the contemplation of nature to induce andenforce the acknowledgment of God, and todemonstrate His power, providence, andgoodness, is an excellent argument, and hathbeen excellently handled by divers, but on theother side, out of the contemplation of nature,or ground of human knowledges, to induce anyverity or persuasion concerning the points offaith, is in my judgment not safe; Da fidei quæfidei sunt. For the heathen themselves concludeas much in that excellent and divine fable of thegolden chain, “That men and gods were notable to draw Jupiter down to the earth; but,

contrariwise, Jupiter was able to draw them upto heaven.” So as we ought not to attempt todraw down or submit the mysteries of God toour reason, but contrariwise to raise and ad-vance our reason to the divine truth. So as inthis part of knowledge, touching divine phi-losophy, I am so far from noting any deficience,as I rather note an excess; whereunto I havedigressed because of the extreme prejudicewhich both religion and philosophy hath re-ceived and may receive by being commixedtogether; as that which undoubtedly will makean heretical religion, and an imaginary andfabulous philosophy.

(2) Otherwise it is of the nature of angels andspirits, which is an appendix of theology, bothdivine and natural, and is neither inscrutablenor interdicted. For although the Scripturesaith, “Let no man deceive you in sublime dis-course touching the worship of angels, pressinginto that he knoweth not,” &c., yet notwith-

standing if you observe well that precept, itmay appear thereby that there be two thingsonly forbidden - adoration of them, and opin-ion fantastical of them, either to extol them fur-ther than appertaineth to the degree of a crea-ture, or to extol a man’s knowledge of themfurther than he hath ground. But the sober andgrounded inquiry, which may arise out of thepassages of Holy Scriptures, or out of the gra-dations of nature, is not restrained. So of de-generate and revolted spirits, the conversingwith them or the employment of them is pro-hibited, much more any veneration towardsthem; but the contemplation or science of theirnature, their power, their illusions, either byScripture or reason, is a part of spiritual wis-dom. For so the apostle saith, “We are not ig-norant of his stratagems.” And it is no moreunlawful to inquire the nature of evil spirits,than to inquire the force of poisons in nature, orthe nature of sin and vice in morality. But thispart touching angels and spirits I cannot note

as deficient, for many have occupied them-selves in it; I may rather challenge it, in manyof the writers thereof, as fabulous and fantasti-cal.

VII. (1) Leaving therefore divine philosophy ornatural theology (not divinity or inspired the-ology, which we reserve for the last of all as thehaven and sabbath of all man’s contemplations)we will now proceed to natural philosophy. Ifthen it be true that Democritus said, “That thetruth of nature lieth hid in certain deep minesand caves;” and if it be true likewise that thealchemists do so much inculcate, that Vulcan isa second nature, and imitateth that dexterouslyand compendiously, which nature worketh byambages and length of time, it were good todivide natural philosophy into the mine andthe furnace, and to make two professions oroccupations of natural philosophers - some tobe pioneers and some smiths; some to dig, andsome to refine and hammer. And surely I do

best allow of a division of that kind, though inmore familiar and scholastical terms: namely,that these be the two parts of natural philoso-phy - the inquisition of causes, and the produc-tion of effects; speculative and operative; natu-ral science, and natural prudence. For as incivil matters there is a wisdom of discourse,and a wisdom of direction; so is it in natural.And here I will make a request, that for thelatter (or at least for a part thereof) I may reviveand reintegrate the misapplied and abusedname of natural magic, which in the true senseis but natural wisdom, or natural prudence;taken according to the ancient acception, pur-ged from vanity and superstition. Now al-though it be true, and I know it well, that thereis an intercourse between causes and effects, soas both these knowledges, speculative and op-erative, have a great connection between them-selves; yet because all true and fruitful naturalphilosophy hath a double scale or ladder, as-cendent and descendent, ascending from ex-

periments to the invention of causes, and de-scending from causes to the invention of newexperiments; therefore I judge it most requisitethat these two parts be severally consideredand handled.

(2) Natural science or theory is divided intophysic and metaphysic; wherein I desire it maybe conceived that I use the word metaphysic ina differing sense from that that is received.And in like manner, I doubt not but it will eas-ily appear to men of judgment, that in this andother particulars, wheresoever my conceptionand notion may differ from the ancient, yet Iam studious to keep the ancient terms. Forhoping well to deliver myself from mistaking,by the order and perspicuous expressing of thatI do propound, I am otherwise zealous andaffectionate to recede as little from antiquity,either in terms or opinions, as may stand withtruth and the proficience of knowledge. Andherein I cannot a little marvel at the philoso-

pher Aristotle, that did proceed in such a spiritof difference and contradiction towards all an-tiquity; undertaking not only to frame newwords of science at pleasure, but to confoundand extinguish all ancient wisdom; insomuchas he never nameth or mentioneth an ancientauthor or opinion, but to confute and reprove;wherein for glory, and drawing followers anddisciples, he took the right course. For certainlythere cometh to pass, and hath place in humantruth, that which was noted and pronounced inthe highest truth:- Veni in nomine partis, nec re-cipits me; si quis venerit in nomine suo eum recipie-tis. But in this divine aphorism (considering towhom it was applied, namely, to antichrist, thehighest deceiver), we may discern well that thecoming in a man’s own name, without regardof antiquity or paternity, is no good sign oftruth, although it be joined with the fortuneand success of an eum recipietis. But for thisexcellent person Aristotle, I will think of himthat he learned that humour of his scholar, with

whom it seemeth he did emulate; the one toconquer all opinions, as the other to conquer allnations. Wherein, nevertheless, it may be, hemay at some men’s hands, that are of a bitterdisposition, get a like title as his scholar did:-

“Felix terrarum prædo, non utile mundoEditus exemplum, &c.”

So,

“Felix doctrinæ prædo.”

But to me, on the other side, that do desire asmuch as lieth in my pen to ground a sociableintercourse between antiquity and proficience,it seemeth best to keep way with antiquity us-que ad aras; and, therefore, to retain the ancient

terms, though I sometimes alter the uses anddefinitions, according to the moderate proceed-ing in civil government; where, although therebe some alteration, yet that holdeth which Taci-tus wisely noteth, eadem magistratuum vocabula.

(3) To return, therefore, to the use and accep-tion of the term metaphysic as I do now under-stand the word; it appeareth, by that whichhath been already said, that I intend philosophiaprima, summary philosophy and metaphysic,which heretofore have been confounded as one,to be two distinct things. For the one I havemade as a parent or common ancestor to allknowledge; and the other I have now broughtin as a branch or descendant of natural science.It appeareth likewise that I have assigned tosummary philosophy the common principlesand axioms which are promiscuous and indif-ferent to several sciences; I have assigned untoit likewise the inquiry touching the operationor the relative and adventive characters of es-

sences, as quantity, similitude, diversity, possi-bility, and the rest, with this distinction andprovision; that they be handled as they haveefficacy in nature, and not logically. It ap-peareth likewise that natural theology, whichheretofore hath been handled confusedly withmetaphysic, I have enclosed and bounded byitself. It is therefore now a question what is leftremaining for metaphysic; wherein I may with-out prejudice preserve thus much of the conceitof antiquity, that physic should contemplatethat which is inherent in matter, and thereforetransitory; and metaphysic that which is ab-stracted and fixed. And again, that physicshould handle that which supposeth in natureonly a being and moving; and metaphysicshould handle that which supposeth further innature a reason, understanding, and platform.But the difference, perspicuously expressed, ismost familiar and sensible. For as we dividednatural philosophy in general into the inquiryof causes and productions of effects, so that

part which concerneth the inquiry of causes wedo subdivide according to the received andsound division of causes. The one part, whichis physic, inquireth and handleth the materialand efficient causes; and the other, which ismetaphysic, handleth the formal and final cau-ses.

(4) Physic (taking it according to the derivation,and not according to our idiom for medicine) issituate in a middle term or distance betweennatural history and metaphysic. For naturalhistory describeth the variety of things; physicthe causes, but variable or respective causes;and metaphysic the fixed and constant causes.

“Limus ut hic durescit, et hæc ut cera liquescit,Uno eodemque igni.”

Fire is the cause of induration, but respective to

clay; fire is the cause of colliquation, but respec-tive to wax. But fire is no constant cause eitherof induration or colliquation; so then the physi-cal causes are but the efficient and the matter.Physic hath three parts, whereof two respectnature united or collected, the third contem-plateth nature diffused or distributed. Natureis collected either into one entire total, or elseinto the same principles or seeds. So as the firstdoctrine is touching the contexture or configu-ration of things, as de mundo, de universitate re-rum. The second is the doctrine concerning theprinciples or originals of things. The third isthe doctrine concerning all variety and particu-larity of things; whether it be of the differingsubstances, or their differing qualities and na-tures; whereof there needeth no enumeration,this part being but as a gloss or paraphrase thatattendeth upon the text of natural history. Ofthese three I cannot report any as deficient. Inwhat truth or perfection they are handled, Imake not now any judgment; but they are parts

of knowledge not deserted by the labour ofman.

(5) For metaphysic, we have assigned unto itthe inquiry of formal and final causes; whichassignation, as to the former of them, may seemto be nugatory and void, because of the re-ceived and inveterate opinion, that the inquisi-tion of man is not competent to find out essen-tial forms or true differences; of which opinionwe will take this hold, that the invention offorms is of all other parts of knowledge theworthiest to be sought, if it be possible to befound. As for the possibility, they are ill dis-coverers that think there is no land, when theycan see nothing but sea. But it is manifest thatPlato, in his opinion of ideas, as one that had awit of elevation situate as upon a cliff, did de-scry that forms were the true object of knowl-edge; but lost the real fruit of his opinion, byconsidering of forms as absolutely abstractedfrom matter, and not confined and determined

by matter; and so turning his opinion upontheology, wherewith all his natural philosophyis infected. But if any man shall keep a contin-ual watchful and severe eye upon action, op-eration, and the use of knowledge, he may ad-vise and take notice what are the forms, thedisclosures whereof are fruitful and importantto the state of man. For as to the forms of sub-stances (man only except, of whom it is said,Formavit hominem de limo terræ, et spiravit in fa-ciem ejus spiraculum vitæ, and not as of all othercreatures, Producant aquæ, producat terra), theforms of substances I say (as they are now bycompounding and transplanting multiplied)are so perplexed, as they are not to be inquired;no more than it were either possible or to pur-pose to seek in gross the forms of those soundswhich make words, which by composition andtransposition of letters are infinite. But, on theother side, to inquire the form of those soundsor voices which make simple letters is easilycomprehensible; and being known induceth

and manifesteth the forms of all words, whichconsist and are compounded of them. In thesame manner to inquire the form of a lion, of anoak, of gold; nay, of water, of air, is a vain pur-suit; but to inquire the forms of sense, of volun-tary motion, of vegetation, of colours, of gravityand levity, of density, of tenuity, of heat, ofcold, and all other natures and qualities, which,like an alphabet, are not many, and of whichthe essences (upheld by matter) of all creaturesdo consist; to inquire, I say, the true forms ofthese, is that part of metaphysic which we nowdefine of. Not but that physic doth make in-quiry and take consideration of the same na-tures; but how? Only as to the material andefficient causes of them, and not as to theforms. For example, if the cause of whitenessin snow or froth be inquired, and it be renderedthus, that the subtle intermixture of air andwater is the cause, it is well rendered; but, nev-ertheless, is this the form of whiteness? No; butit is the efficient, which is ever but vehiculum

formæ. This part of metaphysic I do not findlaboured and performed; whereat I marvel not;because I hold it not possible to be invented bythat course of invention which hath been used;in regard that men (which is the root of all er-ror) have made too untimely a departure, andtoo remote a recess from particulars.

(6) But the use of this part of metaphysic, whichI report as deficient, is of the rest the most ex-cellent in two respects: the one, because it is theduty and virtue of all knowledge to abridge theinfinity of individual experience, as much asthe conception of truth will permit, and to rem-edy the complaint of vita brevis, ars longa; whichis performed by uniting the notions and con-ceptions of sciences. For knowledges are aspyramids, whereof history is the basis. So ofnatural philosophy, the basis is natural history;the stage next the basis is physic; the stage nextthe vertical point is metaphysic. As for the ver-tical point, opus quod operatur Deus à principio

usque ad finem, the summary law of nature, weknow not whether man’s inquiry can attainunto it. But these three be the true stages ofknowledge, and are to them that are depravedno better than the giants’ hills:-

“Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam,Scilicet atque Ossæ frondsum involvere Olym-pum.”

But to those which refer all things to the gloryof God, they are as the three acclamations, San-te, sancte, sancte! holy in the description or dila-tation of His works; holy in the connection orconcatenation of them; and holy in the union ofthem in a perpetual and uniform law. And,therefore, the speculation was excellent in Par-menides and Plato, although but a speculationin them, that all things by scale did ascend tounity. So then always that knowledge is wor-

thiest which is charged with least multiplicity,which appeareth to be metaphysic; as thatwhich considereth the simple forms or differ-ences of things, which are few in number, andthe degrees and co-ordinations whereof makeall this variety. The second respect, which val-ueth and commendeth this part of metaphysic,is that it doth enfranchise the power of manunto the greatest liberty and possibility ofworks and effects. For physic carrieth men innarrow and restrained ways, subject to manyaccidents and impediments, imitating the ordi-nary flexuous courses of nature. But latæ undi-que sunt sapientibus viæ; to sapience (which wasanciently defined to be rerum divinarum et hu-manarum scientia) there is ever a choice ofmeans. For physical causes give light to newinvention in simili materia. But whosoeverknoweth any form, knoweth the utmost possi-bility of superinducing that nature upon anyvariety of matter; and so is less restrained inoperation, either to the basis of the matter, or

the condition of the efficient; which kind ofknowledge Solomon likewise, though in a moredivine sense, elegantly describeth: non arctabun-tur gressus tui, et currens non habebis offendicu-lum. The ways of sapience are not much liableeither to particularity or chance.

(7) The second part of metaphysic is the inquiryof final causes, which I am moved to report notas omitted, but as misplaced. And yet if it werebut a fault in order, I would not speak of it; fororder is matter of illustration, but pertainethnot to the substance of sciences. But this mis-placing hath caused a deficience, or at least agreat improficience in the sciences themselves.For the handling of final causes, mixed with therest in physical inquiries, hath intercepted thesevere and diligent inquiry of all real and phy-sical causes, and given men the occasion to stayupon these satisfactory and specious causes, tothe great arrest and prejudice of further discov-ery. For this I find done not only by Plato, who

ever anchoreth upon that shore, but by Aris-totle, Galen, and others which do usually like-wise fall upon these flats of discoursing causes.For to say that “the hairs of the eyelids are for aquickset and fence about the sight;” or that “thefirmness of the skins and hides of living crea-tures is to defend them from the extremities ofheat or cold;” or that “the bones are for the col-umns or beams, whereupon the frames of thebodies of living creatures are built;” or that “theleaves of trees are for protecting of the fruit;” orthat “the clouds are for watering of the earth;”or that “the solidness of the earth is for the sta-tion and mansion of living creatures;” and thelike, is well inquired and collected in meta-physic, but in physic they are impertinent.Nay, they are, indeed, but remoras and hin-drances to stay and slug the ship from furthersailing; and have brought this to pass, that thesearch of the physical causes hath been ne-glected and passed in silence. And, therefore,the natural philosophy of Democritus and some

others, who did not suppose a mind or reasonin the frame of things, but attributed the formthereof able to maintain itself to infinite essaysor proofs of Nature, which they term fortune,seemeth to me (as far as I can judge by the re-cital and fragments which remain unto us) inparticularities of physical causes more real andbetter inquired than that of Aristotle and Plato;whereof both intermingled final causes, the oneas a part of theology, and the other as a part oflogic, which were the favourite studies respec-tively of both those persons; not because thosefinal causes are not true and worthy to be in-quired, being kept within their own province,but because their excursions into the limits ofphysical causes hath bred a vastness and soli-tude in that tract. For otherwise, keeping theirprecincts and borders, men are extremely de-ceived if they think there is an enmity or re-pugnancy at all between them. For the causerendered, that “the hairs about the eyelids arefor the safeguard of the sight,” doth not im-

pugn the cause rendered, that “pilosity is inci-dent to orifices of moisture - muscosi fontes,&c.” Nor the cause rendered, that “the firm-ness of hides is for the armour of the bodyagainst extremities of heat or cold,” doth notimpugn the cause rendered, that “contractionof pores is incident to the outwardest parts, inregard of their adjacence to foreign or unlikebodies;” and so of the rest, both causes beingtrue and compatible, the one declaring an in-tention, the other a consequence only. Neitherdoth this call in question or derogate from Di-vine Providence, but highly confirm and exaltit. For as in civil actions he is the greater anddeeper politique that can make other men theinstruments of his will and ends, and yet neveracquaint them with his purpose, so as theyshall do it and yet not know what they do, thanhe that imparteth his meaning to those he em-ployeth; so is the wisdom of God more admira-ble, when Nature intendeth one thing and Pro-vidence draweth forth another, than if He had

communicated to particular creatures and mo-tions the characters and impressions of HisProvidence. And thus much for metaphysic;the latter part whereof I allow as extant, butwish it confined to his proper place.

VIII. (1) Nevertheless, there remaineth yet an-other part of natural philosophy, which iscommonly made a principal part, and holdethrank with physic special and metaphysic,which is mathematic; but I think it more agree-able to the nature of things, and to the light oforder, to place it as a branch of metaphysic. Forthe subject of it being quantity, not quantityindefinite, which is but a relative, and belon-geth to philosophia prima (as hath been said), butquantity determined or proportionable, it ap-peareth to be one of the essential forms ofthings, as that that is causative in Nature of anumber of effects; insomuch as we see in theschools both of Democritus and of Pythagorasthat the one did ascribe figure to the first seeds

of things, and the other did suppose numbersto be the principles and originals of things.And it is true also that of all other forms (as weunderstand forms) it is the most abstracted andseparable from matter, and therefore most pro-per to metaphysic; which hath likewise beenthe cause why it hath been better laboured andinquired than any of the other forms, which aremore immersed in matter. For it being the na-ture of the mind of man (to the extreme preju-dice of knowledge) to delight in the spaciousliberty of generalities, as in a champaign re-gion, and not in the inclosures of particularity,the mathematics of all other knowledge werethe goodliest fields to satisfy that appetite. Butfor the placing of this science, it is not muchmaterial: only we have endeavoured in theseour partitions to observe a kind of perspective,that one part may cast light upon another.

(2) The mathematics are either pure or mixed.To the pure mathematics are those sciences

belonging which handle quantity determinate,merely severed from any axioms of naturalphilosophy; and these are two, geometry andarithmetic, the one handling quantity contin-ued, and the other dissevered. Mixed hath forsubject some axioms or parts of natural phi-losophy, and considereth quantity determined,as it is auxiliary and incident unto them. Formany parts of Nature can neither be inventedwith sufficient subtlety, nor demonstrated withsufficient perspicuity, nor accommodated untouse with sufficient dexterity, without the aidand intervening of the mathematics, of whichsort are perspective, music, astronomy, cos-mography, architecture, engineery, and diversothers. In the mathematics I can report no defi-cience, except it be that men do not sufficientlyunderstand this excellent use of the puremathematics, in that they do remedy and curemany defects in the wit and faculties intellec-tual. For if the wit be too dull, they sharpen it;if too wandering, they fix it; if too inherent in

the sense, they abstract it. So that as tennis is agame of no use in itself, but of great use in re-spect it maketh a quick eye and a body ready toput itself into all postures, so in the mathemat-ics that use which is collateral and intervenientis no less worthy than that which is principaland intended. And as for the mixed mathemat-ics, I may only make this prediction, that therecannot fail to be more kinds of them as Naturegrows further disclosed. Thus much of naturalscience, or the part of Nature speculative.

(3) For natural prudence, or the part operativeof natural philosophy, we will divide it intothree parts - experimental, philosophical, andmagical; which three parts active have a corre-spondence and analogy with the three partsspeculative, natural history, physic, and meta-physic. For many operations have been in-vented, sometimes by a casual incidence andoccurrence, sometimes by a purposed experi-ment; and of those which have been found by

an intentional experiment, some have beenfound out by varying or extending the sameexperiment, some by transferring and com-pounding divers experiments the one into theother, which kind of invention an empiric maymanage. Again, by the knowledge of physicalcauses there cannot fail to follow many indica-tions and designations of new particulars, ifmen in their speculation will keep one eyeupon use and practice. But these are but coast-ings along the shore, premendo littus iniquum;for it seemeth to me there can hardly be discov-ered any radical or fundamental alterations andinnovations in Nature, either by the fortuneand essays of experiments, or by the light anddirection of physical causes. If, therefore, wehave reported metaphysic deficient, it mustfollow that we do the like of natural magic,which hath relation thereunto. For as for thenatural magic whereof now there is mention inbooks, containing certain credulous and super-stitious conceits and observations of sympa-

thies and antipathies, and hidden proprieties,and some frivolous experiments, strange ratherby disguisement than in themselves, it is as fardiffering in truth of Nature from such a knowl-edge as we require as the story of King Arthurof Britain, or Hugh of Bourdeaux, differs fromCæsar’s Commentaries in truth of story; for it ismanifest that Cæsar did greater things de verothan those imaginary heroes were feigned todo. But he did them not in that fabulous man-ner. Of this kind of learning the fable of Ixionwas a figure, who designed to enjoy Juno, thegoddess of power, and instead of her had copu-lation with a cloud, of which mixture were be-gotten centaurs and chimeras. So whosoevershall entertain high and vaporous imagina-tions, instead of a laborious and sober inquiryof truth, shall beget hopes and beliefs of strangeand impossible shapes. And, therefore, wemay note in these sciences which hold so muchof imagination and belief, as this degeneratenatural magic, alchemy, astrology, and the like,

that in their propositions the description of themeans is ever more monstrous than the pre-tence or end. For it is a thing more probablethat he that knoweth well the natures ofweight, of colour, of pliant and fragile in re-spect of the hammer, of volatile and fixed inrespect of the fire, and the rest, may superin-duce upon some metal the nature and form ofgold by such mechanic as longeth to the pro-duction of the natures afore rehearsed, thanthat some grains of the medicine projectedshould in a few moments of time turn a sea ofquicksilver or other material into gold. So it ismore probable that he that knoweth the natureof arefaction, the nature of assimilation of nour-ishment to the thing nourished, the manner ofincrease and clearing of spirits, the manner ofthe depredations which spirits make upon thehumours and solid parts, shall by ambages ofdiets, bathings, anointings, medicines, motions,and the like, prolong life, or restore some de-gree of youth or vivacity, than that it can be

done with the use of a few drops or scruples ofa liquor or receipt. To conclude, therefore, thetrue natural magic, which is that great libertyand latitude of operation which dependethupon the knowledge of forms, I may reportdeficient, as the relative thereof is. To whichpart, if we be serious and incline not to vanitiesand plausible discourse, besides the derivingand deducing the operations themselves frommetaphysic, there are pertinent two points ofmuch purpose, the one by way of preparation,the other by way of caution. The first is, thatthere be made a calendar, resembling an inven-tory of the estate of man, containing all the in-ventions (being the works or fruits of Nature orart) which are now extant, and whereof man isalready possessed; out of which doth naturallyresult a note what things are yet held impossi-ble, or not invented, which calendar will be themore artificial and serviceable if to every re-puted impossibility you add what thing is ex-tant which cometh the nearest in degree to that

impossibility; to the end that by these optativesand potentials man’s inquiry may be the moreawake in deducing direction of works from thespeculation of causes. And secondly, that theseexperiments be not only esteemed which havean immediate and present use, but those prin-cipally which are of most universal conse-quence for invention of other experiments, andthose which give most light to the invention ofcauses; for the invention of the mariner’s nee-dle, which giveth the direction, is of no lessbenefit for navigation than the invention of thesails which give the motion.

(4) Thus have I passed through natural phi-losophy and the deficiences thereof; wherein ifI have differed from the ancient and receiveddoctrines, and thereby shall move contradic-tion, for my part, as I affect not to dissent, so Ipurpose not to contend. If it be truth,

“Non canimus surdis, respondent omniasylvæ,”

the voice of Nature will consent, whether thevoice of man do or no. And as Alexander Bor-gia was wont to say of the expedition of theFrench for Naples, that they came with chalk intheir hands to mark up their lodgings, and notwith weapons to fight; so I like better that entryof truth which cometh peaceably with chalk tomark up those minds which are capable to lod-ge and harbour it, than that which cometh withpugnacity and contention.

(5) But there remaineth a division of naturalphilosophy according to the report of the in-quiry, and nothing concerning the matter orsubject: and that is positive and considerative,when the inquiry reporteth either an assertionor a doubt. These doubts or non liquets are oftwo sorts, particular and total. For the first, we

see a good example thereof in Aristotle’s Prob-lems which deserved to have had a better con-tinuance; but so nevertheless as there is onepoint whereof warning is to be given and ta-ken. The registering of doubts hath two excel-lent uses: the one, that it saveth philosophyfrom errors and falsehoods; when that which isnot fully appearing is not collected into asser-tion, whereby error might draw error, but re-served in doubt; the other, that the entry ofdoubts are as so many suckers or sponges todraw use of knowledge; insomuch as thatwhich if doubts had not preceded, a manshould never have advised, but passed it overwithout note, by the suggestion and solicitationof doubts is made to be attended and applied.But both these commodities do scarcely coun-tervail and inconvenience, which will intrudeitself if it be not debarred; which is, that when adoubt is once received, men labour rather howto keep it a doubt still, than how to solve it, andaccordingly bend their wits. Of this we see the

familiar example in lawyers and scholars, bothwhich, if they have once admitted a doubt, itgoeth ever after authorised for a doubt. Butthat use of wit and knowledge is to be allowed,which laboureth to make doubtful things cer-tain, and not those which labour to make cer-tain things doubtful. Therefore these calendarsof doubts I commend as excellent things; sothat there he this caution used, that when theybe thoroughly sifted and brought to resolution,they be from thenceforth omitted, discarded,and not continued to cherish and encouragemen in doubting. To which calendar of doubtsor problems I advise be annexed another calen-dar, as much or more material which is a cal-endar of popular errors: I mean chiefly in natu-ral history, such as pass in speech and conceit,and are nevertheless apparently detected andconvicted of untruth, that man’s knowledge benot weakened nor embased by such dross andvanity. As for the doubts or non liquets generalor in total, I understand those differences of

opinions touching the principles of nature, andthe fundamental points of the same, whichhave caused the diversity of sects, schools, andphilosophies, as that of Empedocles, Pythago-ras, Democritus, Parmenides, and the rest. Foralthough Aristotle, as though he had been ofthe race of the Ottomans, thought he could notreign except the first thing he did he killed allhis brethren; yet to those that seek truth andnot magistrality, it cannot but seem a matter ofgreat profit, to see before them the several opin-ions touching the foundations of nature. Notfor any exact truth that can be expected in thosetheories; for as the same phenomena in astron-omy are satisfied by this received astronomy ofthe diurnal motion, and the proper motions ofthe planets, with their eccentrics and epicycles,and likewise by the theory of Copernicus, whosupposed the earth to move, and the calcula-tions are indifferently agreeable to both, so theordinary face and view of experience is manytimes satisfied by several theories and philoso-

phies; whereas to find the real truth requirethanother manner of severity and attention. Foras Aristotle saith, that children at the first willcall every woman mother, but afterward theycome to distinguish according to truth, so ex-perience, if it be in childhood, will call everyphilosophy mother, but when it cometh toripeness it will discern the true mother. So asin the meantime it is good to see the severalglosses and opinions upon Nature, whereof itmay be everyone in some one point hath seenclearer than his fellows, therefore I wish somecollection to be made painfully and under-standingly de antiquis philosophiis, out of all thepossible light which remaineth to us of them:which kind of work I find deficient. But here Imust give warning, that it be done distinctlyand severedly; the philosophies of everyonethroughout by themselves, and not by titlespacked and faggoted up together, as hath beendone by Plutarch. For it is the harmony of aphilosophy in itself, which giveth it light and

credence; whereas if it be singled and broken, itwill seem more foreign and dissonant. For aswhen I read in Tacitus the actions of Nero orClaudius, with circumstances of times, in-ducements, and occasions, I find them not sostrange; but when I read them in SuetoniusTranquillus, gathered into titles and bundlesand not in order of time, they seem more mon-strous and incredible: so is it of any philosophyreported entire, and dismembered by articles.Neither do I exclude opinions of latter times tobe likewise represented in this calendar of sectsof philosophy, as that of Theophrastus Paracel-sus, eloquently reduced into an harmony by thepen of Severinus the Dane; and that of Tilesius,and his scholar Donius, being as a pastoral phi-losophy, full of sense, but of no great depth;and that of Fracastorius, who, though he pre-tended not to make any new philosophy, yetdid use the absoluteness of his own sense uponthe old; and that of Gilbertus our countryman,who revived, with some alterations and dem-

onstrations, the opinions of Xenophanes; andany other worthy to be admitted.

(6) Thus have we now dealt with two of thethree beams of man’s knowledge; that is radiusdirectus, which is referred to nature, radius re-fractus, which is referred to God, and cannotreport truly because of the inequality of themedium. There resteth radius reflexus, wherebyman beholdeth and contemplateth himself.

IX. (1) We come therefore now to that knowl-edge whereunto the ancient oracle directeth us,which is the knowledge of ourselves; whichdeserveth the more accurate handling, by howmuch it toucheth us more nearly. This knowl-edge, as it is the end and term of natural phi-losophy in the intention of man, so notwith-standing it is but a portion of natural philoso-phy in the continent of Nature. And generallylet this be a rule, that all partitions of knowl-edges be accepted rather for lines and veins

than for sections and separations; and that thecontinuance and entireness of knowledge bepreserved. For the contrary hereof hath madeparticular sciences to become barren, shallow,and erroneous, while they have not been nour-ished and maintained from the common foun-tain. So we see Cicero, the orator, complainedof Socrates and his school, that he was the firstthat separated philosophy and rhetoric; where-upon rhetoric became an empty and verbal art.So we may see that the opinion of Copernicus,touching the rotation of the earth, which as-tronomy itself cannot correct, because it is notrepugnant to any of the phenomena, yet naturalphilosophy may correct. So we see also that thescience of medicine if it be destituted and for-saken by natural philosophy, it is not muchbetter than an empirical practice. With thisreservation, therefore, we proceed to humanphilosophy or humanity, which hath two parts:the one considereth man segregate or distribu-tively, the other congregate or in society; so as

human philosophy is either simple and particu-lar, or conjugate and civil. Humanity particularconsisteth of the same parts whereof man con-sisteth: that is, of knowledges which respect thebody, and of knowledges that respect themind. But before we distribute so far, it is goodto constitute. For I do take the consideration ingeneral, and at large, of human nature to be fitto be emancipate and made a knowledge byitself, not so much in regard of those delightfuland elegant discourses which have been madeof the dignity of man, of his miseries, of hisstate and life, and the like adjuncts of his com-mon and undivided nature; but chiefly in re-gard of the knowledge concerning the sympa-thies and concordances between the mind andbody, which being mixed cannot be properlyassigned to the sciences of either.

(2) This knowledge hath two branches: for asall leagues and amities consist of mutual intel-ligence and mutual offices, so this league of

mind and body hath these two parts: how theone discloseth the other, and how the one wor-keth upon the other; discovery and impression.The former of these hath begotten two arts,both of prediction or prenotion; whereof theone is honoured with the inquiry of Aristotle,and the other of Hippocrates. And althoughthey have of later time been used to be coupledwith superstitions and fantastical arts, yet beingpurged and restored to their true state, theyhave both of them a solid ground in Nature,and a profitable use in life. The first is physi-ognomy, which discovereth the disposition ofthe mind by the lineaments of the body. Thesecond is the exposition of natural dreams,which discovereth the state of the body by theimaginations of the mind. In the former of the-se I note a deficience. For Aristotle hath veryingeniously and diligently handled the facturesof the body, but not the gestures of the body,which are no less comprehensible by art, and ofgreater use and advantage. For the lineaments

of the body do disclose the disposition and in-clination of the mind in general; but the mo-tions of the countenance and parts do not onlyso, but do further disclose the present humourand state of the mind and will. For as yourmajesty saith most aptly and elegantly, “As thetongue speaketh to the ear so the gesture spea-keth to the eye.” And, therefore, a number ofsubtle persons, whose eyes do dwell upon thefaces and fashions of men, do well know theadvantage of this observation, as being mostpart of their ability; neither can it be denied, butthat it is a great discovery of dissimulations,and a great direction in business.

(3) The latter branch, touching impression, hathnot been collected into art, but hath been han-dled dispersedly; and it hath the same relationor antistrophe that the former hath. For the con-sideration is double - either how and how farthe humours and affects of the body do alter orwork upon the mind, or, again, how and how

far the passions or apprehensions of the minddo alter or work upon the body. The former ofthese hath been inquired and considered as apart and appendix of medicine, but much moreas a part of religion or superstition. For thephysician prescribeth cures of the mind in fren-zies and melancholy passions, and pretendethalso to exhibit medicines to exhilarate the mind,to control the courage, to clarify the wits, tocorroborate the memory, and the like; but thescruples and superstitions of diet and otherregiment of the body in the sect of the Pythago-reans, in the heresy of the Manichees, and inthe law of Mahomet, do exceed. So likewise theordinances in the ceremonial law, interdictingthe eating of the blood and the fat, distinguish-ing between beasts clean and unclean for meat,are many and strict; nay, the faith itself beingclear and serene from all clouds of ceremony,yet retaineth the use of fastlings, abstinences,and other macerations and humiliations of thebody, as things real, and not figurative. The

root and life of all which prescripts is (besidesthe ceremony) the consideration of that de-pendency which the affections of the mind aresubmitted unto upon the state and dispositionof the body. And if any man of weak judgmentdo conceive that this suffering of the mind fromthe body doth either question the immortality,or derogate from the sovereignty of the soul, hemay be taught, in easy instances, that the infantin the mother’s womb is compatible with themother, and yet separable; and the most abso-lute monarch is sometimes led by his servants,and yet without subjection. As for the recipro-cal knowledge, which is the operation of theconceits and passions of the mind upon thebody, we see all wise physicians, in the pre-scriptions of their regiments to their patients,do ever consider accidentia animi, as of greatforce to further or hinder remedies or recover-ies: and more specially it is an inquiry of greatdepth and worth concerning imagination, howand how far it altereth the body proper of the

imaginant; for although it hath a manifestpower to hurt, it followeth not it hath the samedegree of power to help. No more than a mancan conclude, that because there be pestilentairs, able suddenly to kill a man in health,therefore there should be sovereign airs, ablesuddenly to cure a man in sickness. But theinquisition of this part is of great use, though itneedeth, as Socrates said, “a Delian diver,” be-ing difficult and profound. But unto all thisknowledge de communi vinculo, of the concor-dances between the mind and the body, thatpart of inquiry is most necessary which con-sidereth of the seats and domiciles which theseveral faculties of the mind do take and occu-pate in the organs of the body; which knowl-edge hath been attempted, and is controverted,and deserveth to be much better inquired. Forthe opinion of Plato, who placed the under-standing in the brain, animosity (which he didunfitly call anger, having a greater mixturewith pride) in the heart, and concupiscence or

sensuality in the liver, deserveth not to be de-spised, but much less to be allowed. So, then,we have constituted (as in our own wish andadvice) the inquiry touching human natureentire, as a just portion of knowledge to behandled apart.

X. (1) The knowledge that concerneth man’sbody is divided as the good of man’s body isdivided, unto which it referreth. The good ofman’s body is of four kinds - health, beauty,strength, and pleasure: so the knowledges aremedicine, or art of cure; art of decoration,which is called cosmetic; art of activity, whichis called athletic; and art voluptuary, whichTacitus truly calleth eruditus luxus. This subjectof man’s body is, of all other things in nature,most susceptible of remedy; but then that rem-edy is most susceptible of error; for the samesubtlety of the subject doth cause large possibil-ity and easy failing, and therefore the inquiryought to be the more exact.

(2) To speak, therefore, of medicine, and to re-sume that we have said, ascending a little hig-her: the ancient opinion that man was micro-cosmus - an abstract or model of the world -hath been fantastically strained by Paracelsusand the alchemists, as if there were to be foundin man’s body certain correspondences andparallels, which should have respect to all va-rieties of things, as stars, planets, minerals,which are extant in the great world. But thusmuch is evidently true, that of all substanceswhich nature hath produced, man’s body is themost extremely compounded. For we see herbsand plants are nourished by earth and water;beasts for the most part by herbs and fruits;man by the flesh of beasts, birds, fishes, herbs,grains, fruits, water, and the manifold altera-tions, dressings, and preparations of these sev-eral bodies before they come to be his food andaliment. Add hereunto that beasts have a moresimple order of life, and less change of affec-

tions to work upon their bodies, whereas manin his mansion, sleep, exercise, passions, hathinfinite variations: and it cannot be denied butthat the body of man of all other things is of themost compounded mass. The soul, on theother side, is the simplest of substances, as iswell expressed:

“Purumque reliquitÆthereum sensum atque auraï simplicis ig-nem.”

So that it is no marvel though the soul so pla-ced enjoy no rest, if that principle be true, thatMotus rerum est rapidus extra locum, placidus inloco. But to the purpose. This variable compo-sition of man’s body hath made it as an instru-ment easy to distemper; and, therefore, the po-ets did well to conjoin music and medicine inApollo, because the office of medicine is but to

tune this curious harp of man’s body and toreduce it to harmony. So, then, the subject be-ing so variable hath made the art by consequentmore conjectural; and the art being conjecturalhath made so much the more place to be left forimposture. For almost all other arts and sci-ences are judged by acts or masterpieces, as Imay term them, and not by the successes andevents. The lawyer is judged by the virtue ofhis pleading, and not by the issue of the cause;this master in this ship is judged by the direct-ing his course aright, and not by the fortune ofthe voyage; but the physician, and perhaps thispolitique, hath no particular acts demonstrativeof his ability, but is judged most by the event,which is ever but as it is taken: for who can tell,if a patient die or recover, or if a state be pre-served or ruined, whether it be art or accident?And therefore many times the impostor isprized, and the man of virtue taxed. Nay, wesee [the] weakness and credulity of men issuch, as they will often refer a mountebank or

witch before a learned physician. And there-fore the poets were clear-sighted in discerningthis extreme folly when they made Æsculapiusand Circe, brother and sister, both children ofthe sun, as in the verses -

“Ipse repertorem medicinæ talis et artisFulmine Phœbigenam Stygias detrusit ad un-das.”

And again -

“Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos,” &c.

For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude,witches and old women and impostors, havehad a competition with physicians. And whatfolloweth? Even this, that physicians say to

themselves, as Solomon expresseth it upon ahigher occasion, “If it befall to me as befallethto the fools, why should I labour to be morewise?” And therefore I cannot much blamephysicians that they use commonly to intendsome other art or practice, which they fancymore than their profession; for you shall haveof them antiquaries, poets, humanists, states-men, merchants, divines, and in every of thesebetter seen than in their profession; and nodoubt upon this ground that they find that me-diocrity and excellency in their art maketh nodifference in profit or reputation towards theirfortune: for the weakness of patients, andsweetness of life, and nature of hope, makethmen depend upon physicians with all theirdefects. But, nevertheless, these things whichwe have spoken of are courses begotten be-tween a little occasion and a great deal of slothand default; for if we will excite and awake ourobservation, we shall see in familiar instanceswhat a predominant faculty the subtlety of spi-

rit hath over the variety of matter or form.Nothing more variable than faces and counte-nances, yet men can bear in memory the infi-nite distinctions of them; nay, a painter, with afew shells of colours, and the benefit of his eye,and habit of his imagination, can imitate themall that ever have been, are, or may be, if theywere brought before him. Nothing more vari-able than voices, yet men can likewise discernthem personally: nay, you shall have a buffon orpantomimus will express as many as he plea-seth. Nothing more variable than the differingsounds of words; yet men have found the wayto reduce them to a few simple letters. So thatit is not the insufficiency or incapacity of man’smind, but it is the remote standing or placingthereof that breedeth these mazes and incom-prehensions; for as the sense afar off is full ofmistaking, but is exact at hand, so is it of theunderstanding, the remedy whereof is, not toquicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nea-rer to the object; and therefore there is no doubt

but if the physicians will learn and use the trueapproaches and avenues of nature, they mayassume as much as the poet saith:

“Et quoniam variant morbi, variabimus artes;Mille mali species, mille salutis erunt.”

Which that they should do, the nobleness oftheir art doth deserve: well shadowed by thepoets, in that they made Æsculapius to be theson of [the] sun, the one being the fountain oflife, the other as the second-stream; but infi-nitely more honoured by the example of ourSaviour, who made the body of man the objectof His miracles, as the soul was the object ofHis doctrine. For we read not that ever Hevouchsafed to do any miracle about honour ormoney (except that one for giving tribute toCæsar), but only about the preserving, sustain-ing, and healing the body of man.

(3) Medicine is a science which hath been (aswe have said) more professed than laboured,and yet more laboured than advanced; the la-bour having been, in my judgment, rather incircle than in progression. For I find much it-eration, but small addition. It considereth cau-ses of diseases, with the occasions or impul-sions; the diseases themselves, with the acci-dents; and the cures, with the preservations.The deficiences which I think good to note, be-ing a few of many, and those such as are of amore open and manifest nature, I will enumer-ate and not place.

(4) The first is the discontinuance of the ancientand serious diligence of Hippocrates, whichused to set down a narrative of the special casesof his patients, and how they proceeded, andhow they were judged by recovery or death.Therefore having an example proper in the fa-ther of the art, I shall not need to allege an ex-

ample foreign, of the wisdom of the lawyers,who are careful to report new cases and deci-sions, for the direction of future judgments.This continuance of medicinal history I finddeficient; which I understand neither to be soinfinite as to extend to every common case, norso reserved as to admit none but wonders: formany things are new in this manner, which arenot new in the kind; and if men will intend toobserve, they shall find much worthy to ob-serve.

(5) In the inquiry which is made by anatomy, Ifind much deficience: for they inquire of theparts, and their substances, figures, and collo-cations; but they inquire not of the diversities ofthe parts, the secrecies of the passages, and theseats or nestling of the humours, nor much ofthe footsteps and impressions of diseases. Thereason of which omission I suppose to be, be-cause the first inquiry may be satisfied in theview of one or a few anatomies; but the latter,

being comparative and casual, must arise fromthe view of many. And as to the diversity ofparts, there is no doubt but the facture or fram-ing of the inward parts is as full of difference asthe outward, and in that is the cause continentof many diseases; which not being observed,they quarrel many times with the humours,which are not in fault; the fault being in thevery frame and mechanic of the part, whichcannot be removed by medicine alterative, butmust be accommodated and palliated by dietsand medicines familiar. And for the passagesand pores, it is true which was anciently noted,that the more subtle of them appear not inanatomies, because they are shut and latent indead bodies, though they be open and manifestin life: which being supposed, though the in-humanity of anatomia vivorum was by Celsusjustly reproved; yet in regard of the great use ofthis observation, the inquiry needed not by himso slightly to have been relinquished alto-gether, or referred to the casual practices of

surgery; but might have been well divertedupon the dissection of beasts alive, which not-withstanding the dissimilitude of their partsmay sufficiently satisfy this inquiry. And forthe humours, they are commonly passed overin anatomies as purgaments; whereas it is mostnecessary to observe, what cavities, nests, andreceptacles the humours do find in the parts,with the differing kind of the humour so lod-ged and received. And as for the footsteps ofdiseases, and their devastations of the inwardparts, impostumations, exulcerations, discon-tinuations, putrefactions, consumptions, con-tractions, extensions, convulsions, dislocations,obstructions, repletions, together with all pre-ternatural substances, as stones, carnosities,excrescences, worms, and the like; they oughtto have been exactly observed by multitude ofanatomies, and the contribution of men’s sev-eral experiences, and carefully set down bothhistorically according to the appearances, andartificially with a reference to the diseases and

symptoms which resulted from them, in casewhere the anatomy is of a defunct patient; whe-reas now upon opening of bodies they are pas-sed over slightly and in silence.

(6) In the inquiry of diseases, they do abandonthe cures of many, some as in their nature in-curable, and others as past the period of cure;so that Sylla and the Triumvirs never pro-scribed so many men to die, as they do by theirignorant edicts: whereof numbers do escapewith less difficulty than they did in the Romanprescriptions. Therefore I will not doubt tonote as a deficience, that they inquire not theperfect cures of many diseases, or extremities ofdiseases; but pronouncing them incurable doenact a law of neglect, and exempt ignorancefrom discredit.

(7) Nay further, I esteem it the office of a physi-cian not only to restore health, but to mitigatepain and dolors; and not only when such miti-

gation may conduce to recovery, but when itmay serve to make a fair and easy passage. Forit is no small felicity which Augustus Cæsarwas wont to wish to himself, that same Eutha-nasia; and which was specially noted in thedeath of Antoninus Pius, whose death was afterthe fashion, and semblance of a kindly andpleasant sheep. So it is written of Epicurus,that after his disease was judged desperate, hedrowned his stomach and senses with a largedraught and ingurgitation of wine; whereuponthe epigram was made, Hinc Stygias ebrius hau-sit aquas; he was not sober enough to taste anybitterness of the Stygian water. But the physi-cians contrariwise do make a kind of scrupleand religion to stay with the patient after thedisease is deplored; whereas in my judgmentthey ought both to inquire the skill, and to givethe attendances, for the facilitating and assuag-ing of the pains and agonies of death.

(5) In the consideration of the cures of diseases,

I find a deficience in the receipts of propriety,respecting the particular cures of diseases: forthe physicians have frustrated the fruit of tradi-tion and experience by their magistralities, inadding and taking out and changing quid proqua in their receipts, at their pleasures; com-manding so over the medicine, as the medicinecannot command over the disease. For exceptit be treacle and mithridatum, and of late dia-scordium, and a few more, they tie themselvesto no receipts severely and religiously. For asto the confections of sale which are in theshops, they are for readiness and not for pro-priety. For they are upon general intentions ofpurging, opening, comforting, altering, and notmuch appropriate to particular diseases. Andthis is the cause why empirics and old womenare more happy many times in their cures thanlearned physicians, because they are more reli-gious in holding their medicines. Thereforehere is the deficience which I find, that physi-cians have not, partly out of their own practice,

partly out of the constant probations reportedin books, and partly out of the traditions ofempirics, set down and delivered over certainexperimental medicines for the cure of particu-lar diseases, besides their own conjectural andmagistral descriptions. For as they were themen of the best composition in the state of Ro-me, which either being consuls inclined to thepeople, or being tribunes inclined to the senate;so in the matter we now handle, they be thebest physicians, which being learned incline tothe traditions of experience, or being empiricsincline to the methods of learning.

(9) In preparation of medicines I do find stran-ge, specially considering how mineral medi-cines have been extolled, and that they are saferfor the outward than inward parts, that no manhath sought to make an imitation by art of na-tural baths and medicinable fountains: whichnevertheless are confessed to receive their vir-tues from minerals; and not so only, but dis-

cerned and distinguished from what particularmineral they receive tincture, as sulphur, vit-riol, steel, or the like; which nature, if it may bereduced to compositions of art, both the varietyof them will be increased, and the temper ofthem will be more commanded.

(10) But lest I grow to be more particular than isagreeable either to my intention or to propor-tion, I will conclude this part with the note ofone deficience more, which seemeth to me ofgreatest consequence: which is, that the pre-scripts in use are too compendious to attaintheir end; for, to my understanding, it is a vainand flattering opinion to think any medicinecan be so sovereign or so happy, as that thereceipt or miss of it can work any great effectupon the body of man. It were a strangespeech which spoken, or spoken oft, shouldreclaim a man from a vice to which he were bynature subject. It is order, pursuit, sequence,and interchange of application, which is mighty

in nature; which although it require more exactknowledge in prescribing, and more preciseobedience in observing, yet is recompensedwith the magnitude of effects. And although aman would think, by the daily visitations of thephysicians, that there were a pursuance in thecure, yet let a man look into their prescripts andministrations, and he shall find them but incon-stancies and every day’s devices, without anysettled providence or project. Not that everyscrupulous or superstitious prescript is effec-tual, no more than every straight way is theway to heaven; but the truth of the directionmust precede severity of observance.

(11) For cosmetic, it hath parts civil, and partseffeminate: for cleanness of body was ever es-teemed to proceed from a due reverence toGod, to society, and to ourselves. As for artifi-cial decoration, it is well worthy of the defi-ciences which it hath; being neither fine enoughto deceive, nor handsome to use, nor whole-

some to please.

(12) For athletic, I take the subject of it largely,that is to say, for any point of ability whereuntothe body of man may be brought, whether it beof activity, or of patience; whereof activity hathtwo parts, strength and swiftness; and patiencelikewise hath two parts, hardness against wantsand extremities, and endurance of pain or tor-ment; whereof we see the practices in tumblers,in savages, and in those that suffer punish-ment. Nay, if there be any other faculty whichfalls not within any of the former divisions, asin those that dive, that obtain a strange powerof containing respiration, and the like, I refer itto this part. Of these things the practices areknown, but the philosophy that concerneththem is not much inquired; the rather, I think,because they are supposed to be obtained, ei-ther by an aptness of nature, which cannot betaught, or only by continual custom, which issoon prescribed which though it be not true,

yet I forbear to note any deficiences; for theOlympian games are down long since, and themediocrity of these things is for use; as for theexcellency of them it serveth for the most partbut for mercenary ostentation.

(13) For arts of pleasure sensual, the chief defi-cience in them is of laws to repress them. Foras it hath been well observed, that the artswhich flourish in times while virtue is ingrowth, are military; and while virtue is in sta-te, are liberal; and while virtue is in declination,are voluptuary: so I doubt that this age of theworld is somewhat upon the descent of thewheel. With arts voluptuary I couple practicesjoculary; for the deceiving of the senses is oneof the pleasures of the senses. As for games ofrecreation, I hold them to belong to civil lifeand education. And thus much of that particu-lar human philosophy which concerns the bo-dy, which is but the tabernacle of the mind.

XI. (1) For human knowledge which concernsthe mind, it hath two parts; the one that in-quireth of the substance or nature of the soul ormind, the other that inquireth of the faculties orfunctions thereof. Unto the first of these, theconsiderations of the original of the soul, whet-her it be native or adventive, and how far it isexempted from laws of matter, and of the im-mortality thereof, and many other points, doappertain: which have been not more labori-ously inquired than variously reported; so asthe travail therein taken seemeth to have beenrather in a maze than in a way. But although Iam of opinion that this knowledge may be mo-re really and soundly inquired, even in nature,than it hath been, yet I hold that in the end itmust be hounded by religion, or else it will besubject to deceit and delusion. For as the sub-stance of the soul in the creation was not ex-tracted out of the mass of heaven and earth bythe benediction of a producat, but was immedi-ately inspired from God, so it is not possible

that it should be (otherwise than by accident)subject to the laws of heaven and earth, whichare the subject of philosophy; and therefore thetrue knowledge of the nature and state of thesoul must come by the same inspiration thatgave the substance. Unto this part of knowl-edge touching the soul there be two appendi-ces; which, as they have been handled, haverather vapoured forth fables than kindled truth:divination and fascination.

(2) Divination hath been anciently and fitlydivided into artificial and natural: whereof arti-ficial is, when the mind maketh a prediction byargument, concluding upon signs and tokens;natural is, when the mind hath a presention byan internal power, without the inducement of asign. Artificial is of two sorts: either when theargument is coupled with a derivation of cau-ses, which is rational; or when it is only groun-ded upon a coincidence of the effect, which isexperimental: whereof the latter for the most

part is superstitious, such as were the heathenobservations upon the inspection of sacrifices,the flights of birds, the swarming of bees; andsuch as was the Chaldean astrology, and thelike. For artificial divination, the several kindsthereof are distributed amongst particularknowledges. The astronomer hath his predic-tions, as of conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, andthe like. The physician hath his predictions, ofdeath, of recovery, of the accidents and issuesof diseases. The politique hath his predictions;O urbem venalem, et cito perituram, si emptoreminvenerit! which stayed not long to be per-formed, in Sylla first, and after in Cæsar: so asthese predictions are now impertinent, and tobe referred over. But the divination whichspringeth from the internal nature of the soul isthat which we now speak of; which hath beenmade to be of two sorts, primitive and by in-fluxion. Primitive is grounded upon the sup-position that the mind, when it is withdrawnand collected into itself, and not diffused into

the organs of the body, hath some extent andlatitude of prenotion; which therefore ap-peareth most in sleep, in ecstasies, and neardeath, and more rarely in waking apprehen-sions; and is induced and furthered by thoseabstinences and observances which make themind most to consist in itself. By influxion, isgrounded upon the conceit that the mind, as amirror or glass, should take illumination fromthe foreknowledge of God and spirits: untowhich the same regiment doth likewise con-duce. For the retiring of the mind within itselfis the state which is most susceptible of divineinfluxions; save that it is accompanied in thiscase with a fervency and elevation (which theancients noted by fury), and not with a reposeand quiet, as it is in the other.

(3) Fascination is the power and act of imagina-tion intensive upon other bodies than the bodyof the imaginant, for of that we spake in theproper place. Wherein the school of Paracelsus,

and the disciples of pretended natural magic,have been so intemperate, as they have exaltedthe power of the imagination to be much onewith the power of miracle-working faith. Oth-ers, that draw nearer to probability, calling totheir view the secret passages of things, andspecially of the contagion that passeth frombody to body, do conceive it should likewise beagreeable to nature that there should be sometransmissions and operations from spirit tospirit without the mediation of the senses;whence the conceits have grown (now almostmade civil) of the mastering spirit, and the for-ce of confidence, and the like. Incident untothis is the inquiry how to raise and fortify theimagination; for if the imagination fortifiedhave power, then it is material to know how tofortify and exalt it. And herein comes in crook-edly and dangerously a palliation of a greatpart of ceremonial magic. For it may be pre-tended that ceremonies, characters, and charmsdo work, not by any tacit or sacramental con-

tract with evil spirits, but serve only to strengt-hen the imagination of him that useth it; as im-ages are said by the Roman Church to fix thecogitations and raise the devotions of them thatpray before them. But for mine own judgment,if it be admitted that imagination hath power,and that ceremonies fortify imagination, andthat they be used sincerely and intentionally forthat purpose; yet I should hold them unlawful,as opposing to that first edict which God gaveunto man, In sudore vultus comedes panem tuum.For they propound those noble effects, whichGod hath set forth unto man to be bought at theprice of labour, to be attained by a few easy andslothful observances. Deficiences in theseknowledges I will report none, other than thegeneral deficience, that it is not known howmuch of them is verity, and how much vanity.

XII. (1) The knowledge which respecteth thefaculties of the mind of man is of two kinds -the one respecting his understanding and rea-

son, and the other his will, appetite, and affec-tion; whereof the former produceth position ordecree, the latter action or execution. It is truethat the imagination is an agent or nuncius inboth provinces, both the judicial and the minis-terial. For sense sendeth over to imaginationbefore reason have judged, and reason sendethover to imagination before the decree can beacted. For imagination ever precedeth volun-tary motion. Saving that this Janus of imagina-tion hath differing faces: for the face towardsreason hath the print of truth, but the face to-wards action hath the print of good; which ne-vertheless are faces,

“Quales decet esse sororum.”

Neither is the imagination simply and only amessenger; but is invested with, or at least wiseusurpeth no small authority in itself, besides

the duty of the message. For it was well saidby Aristotle, “That the mind hath over the bodythat commandment, which the lord hath over abondman; but that reason hath over the imagi-nation that commandment which a magistratehath over a free citizen,” who may come also torule in his turn. For we see that, in matters offaith and religion, we raise our imaginationabove our reason, which is the cause why relig-ion sought ever access to the mind by simili-tudes, types, parables, visions, dreams. Andagain, in all persuasions that are wrought byeloquence, and other impressions of like na-ture, which do paint and disguise the true ap-pearance of things, the chief recommendationunto reason is from the imagination. Neverthe-less, because I find not any science that dothproperly or fitly pertain to the imagination, Isee no cause to alter the former division. For asfor poesy, it is rather a pleasure or play ofimagination than a work or duty thereof. Andif it be a work, we speak not now of such parts

of learning as the imagination produceth, but ofsuch sciences as handle and consider of theimagination. No more than we shall speaknow of such knowledges as reason produceth(for that extendeth to all philosophy), but ofsuch knowledges as do handle and inquire ofthe faculty of reason: so as poesy had his trueplace. As for the power of the imagination innature, and the manner of fortifying the same,we have mentioned it in the doctrine De Anima,whereunto most fitly it belongeth. And lastly,for imaginative or insinuative reason, which isthe subject of rhetoric, we think it best to refer itto the arts of reason. So therefore we contentourselves with the former division, that humanphilosophy, which respecteth the faculties ofthe mind of man, hath two parts, rational andmoral.

(2) The part of human philosophy which is ra-tional is of all knowledges, to the most wits, theleast delightful, and seemeth but a net of sub-

tlety and spinosity. For as it was truly said,that knowledge is pabulum animi; so in the na-ture of men’s appetite to this food most menare of the taste and stomach of the Israelites inthe desert, that would fain have returned adollas carnium, and were weary of manna; which,though it were celestial, yet seemed less nutri-tive and comfortable. So generally men tastewell knowledges that are drenched in flesh andblood, civil history, morality, policy, about thewhich men’s affections, praises, fortunes doturn and are conversant. But this same lumensiccum doth parch and offend most men’s wa-tery and soft natures. But to speak truly ofthings as they are in worth, rational knowl-edges are the keys of all other arts, for as Aris-totle saith aptly and elegantly, “That the handis the instrument of instruments, and the mindis the form of forms;” so these be truly said tobe the art of arts. Neither do they only direct,but likewise confirm and strengthen; even asthe habit of shooting doth not only enable to

shoot a nearer shoot, but also to draw astronger bow.

(3) The arts intellectual are four in number,divided according to the ends whereunto theyare referred - for man’s labour is to invent thatwhich is sought or propounded; or to judgethat which is invented; or to retain that which isjudged; or to deliver over that which is re-tained. So as the arts must be four - art of in-quiry or invention; art of examination or judg-ment; art of custody or memory; and art of elo-cution or tradition.

XIII. (1) Invention is of two kinds much differ-ing - the one of arts and sciences, and the otherof speech and arguments. The former of these Ido report deficient; which seemeth to me to besuch a deficience as if, in the making of an in-ventory touching the state of a defunct, itshould be set down that there is no ready mo-ney. For as money will fetch all other com-

modities, so this knowledge is that whichshould purchase all the rest. And like as theWest Indies had never been discovered if theuse of the mariner’s needle had not been firstdiscovered, though the one be vast regions, andthe other a small motion; so it cannot be foundstrange if sciences be no further discovered, ifthe art itself of invention and discovery hathbeen passed over.

(2) That this part of knowledge is wanting, tomy judgment standeth plainly confessed; forfirst, logic doth not pretend to invent sciences,or the axioms of sciences, but passeth it overwith a cuique in sua arte credendum. And Celsusacknowledgeth it gravely, speaking of the em-pirical and dogmatical sects of physicians,“That medicines and cures were first found out,and then after the reasons and causes were dis-coursed; and not the causes first found out, andby light from them the medicines and curesdiscovered.” And Plato in his “Theætetus”

noteth well, “That particulars are infinite, andthe higher generalities give no sufficient direc-tion; and that the pith of all sciences, whichmaketh the artsman differ from the inexpert, isin the middle propositions, which in every par-ticular knowledge are taken from tradition andexperience.” And therefore we see, that theywhich discourse of the inventions and originalsof things refer them rather to chance than to art,and rather to beasts, birds, fishes, serpents,than to men.

“Dictamnum genetrix Cretæa carpit ab Ida,Puberibus caulem foliis et flore camantemPurpureo; non illa feris incognita caprisGramina, cum tergo volucres hæsere sagittæ.”

So that it was no marvel (the manner of antiq-uity being to consecrate inventors) that theEgyptians had so few human idols in their

temples, but almost all brute:

“Omnigenumque Deum monstra, et latratorAnubis,Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Mi-nervam, &c.”

And if you like better the tradition of the Gre-cians, and ascribe the first inventions to men,yet you will rather believe that Prometheus firststroke the flints, and marvelled at the spark,than that when he first stroke the flints he ex-pected the spark; and therefore we see the WestIndian Prometheus had no intelligence with theEuropean, because of the rareness with them offlint, that gave the first occasion. So as itshould seem, that hitherto men are rather be-holden to a wild goat for surgery, or to a night-ingale for music, or to the ibis for some part ofphysic, or to the pot-lid that flew open for artil-

lery, or generally to chance or anything elsethan to logic for the invention of arts and sci-ences. Neither is the form of invention whichVirgil describeth much other:

“Ut varias usus meditande extunderet artesPaulatim.”

For if you observe the words well, it is no othermethod than that which brute beasts are capa-ble of, and do put in ure; which is a perpetualintending or practising some one thing, urgedand imposed by an absolute necessity of con-servation of being. For so Cicero saith verytruly, Usus uni rei deditus et naturam et artemsæpe vincit. And therefore if it be said of men,

“Labor omnia vincitImprobus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas,”

it is likewise said of beasts, Quis psittaco docuitsuum ? Who taught the raven in a droughtto throw pebbles into a hollow tree, where shespied water, that the water might rise so as shemight come to it? Who taught the bee to sailthrough such a vast sea or air, and to find theway from a field in a flower a great way off toher hive? Who taught the ant to bite everygrain of corn that she burieth in her hill, lest itshould take root and grow? Add then theword extundere, which importeth the extremedifficulty, and the word paulatim, which impor-teth the extreme slowness, and we are wherewe were, even amongst the Egyptians’ gods;there being little left to the faculty of reason,and nothing to the duty or art, for matter ofinvention.

(3) Secondly, the induction which the logiciansspeak of, and which seemeth familiar with Pla-

to, whereby the principles of sciences may bepretended to be invented, and so the middlepropositions by derivation from the principles;their form of induction, I say, is utterly viciousand incompetent; wherein their error is thefouler, because it is the duty of art to perfectand exalt nature; but they contrariwise havewronged, abused, and traduced nature. For hethat shall attentively observe how the minddoth gather this excellent dew of knowledge,like unto that which the poet speaketh of, Aëreimellis cælestia dona, distilling and contriving itout of particulars natural and artificial, as theflowers of the field and garden, shall find thatthe mind of herself by nature doth manage andact an induction much better than they describeit. For to conclude upon an enumeration ofparticulars, without instance contradictory, isno conclusion, but a conjecture; for who canassure (in many subjects) upon those particu-lars which appear of a side, that there are notother on the contrary side which appear not?

As if Samuel should have rested upon thosesons of Jesse which were brought before him,and failed of David which was in the field.And this form (to say truth), is so gross, as ithad not been possible for wits so subtle as havemanaged these things to have offered it to theworld, but that they hasted to their theories anddogmaticals, and were imperious and scornfultoward particulars; which their manner was touse but as lictores and viatores, for sergeants andwhifflers, ad summovendam turbam, to make wayand make room for their opinions, rather thanin their true use and service. Certainly it is athing may touch a man with a religious won-der, to see how the footsteps of seducement arethe very same in divine and human truth; for,as in divine truth man cannot endure to be-come as a child, so in human, they reputed theattending the inductions (whereof we speak),as if it were a second infancy or childhood.

(4) Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms

were rightly induced, yet, nevertheless, certainit is that middle propositions cannot be de-duced from them in subject of nature by syllo-gism - that is, by touch and reduction of themto principles in a middle term. It is true that insciences popular, as moralities, laws, and thelike, yea, and divinity (because it pleaseth Godto apply Himself to the capacity of the sim-plest), that form may have use; and in naturalphilosophy likewise, by way of argument orsatisfactory reason, Quæ assensum parit operiseffæta est; but the subtlety of nature and opera-tions will not be enchained in those bonds. Forarguments consist of propositions, and proposi-tions of words, and words are but the currenttokens or marks of popular notions of things;which notions, if they be grossly and variablycollected out of particulars, it is not the labori-ous examination either of consequences of ar-guments, or of the truth of propositions, thatcan ever correct that error, being (as the physi-cians speak) in the first digestion. And, there-

fore, it was not without cause, that so manyexcellent philosophers became sceptics andacademics, and denied any certainty of knowl-edge or comprehension; and held opinion thatthe knowledge of man extended only to ap-pearances and probabilities. It is true that inSocrates it was supposed to be but a form ofirony, Scientiam dissimulando simulavit; for heused to disable his knowledge, to the end toenhance his knowledge; like the humour ofTiberius in his beginnings, that would reign,but would not acknowledge so much. And inthe later academy, which Cicero embraced, thisopinion also of acatalepsia (I doubt) was notheld sincerely; for that all those which excelledin copy of speech seem to have chosen that sect,as that which was fittest to give glory to theireloquence and variable discourses; being ratherlike progresses of pleasure than journeys to anend. But assuredly many scattered in bothacademies did hold it in subtlety and integrity.But here was their chief error: they charged the

deceit upon the senses; which in my judgment(notwithstanding all their cavillations) are verysufficient to certify and report truth, though notalways immediately, yet by comparison, byhelp of instrument, and by producing and urg-ing such things as are too subtle for the sense tosome effect comprehensible by the sense, andother like assistance. But they ought to havecharged the deceit upon the weakness of theintellectual powers, and upon the manner ofcollecting and concluding upon the reports ofthe senses. This I speak, not to disable themind of man, but to stir it up to seek help; forno man, be he never so cunning or practised,can make a straight line or perfect circle bysteadiness of hand, which may be easily doneby help of a ruler or compass.

(5) This part of invention, concerning the inven-tion of sciences, I purpose (if God give me lea-ve) hereafter to propound, having digested itinto two parts: whereof the one I term experien-

tia literata, and the other interpretatio naturæ; theformer being but a degree and rudiment of thelatter. But I will not dwell too long, nor speaktoo great upon a promise.

(6) The invention of speech or argument is notproperly an invention; for to invent is to dis-cover that we know not, and not to recover orresummon that which we already know; andthe use of this invention is no other but, out ofthe knowledge whereof our mind is alreadypossessed to draw forth or call before us thatwhich may be pertinent to the purpose whichwe take into our consideration. So as to speaktruly, it is no invention, but a remembrance orsuggestion, with an application; which is thecause why the schools do place it after judg-ment, as subsequent and not precedent. Never-theless, because we do account it a chase aswell of deer in an enclosed park as in a forest atlarge, and that it hath already obtained the na-me, let it be called invention; so as it be per-

ceived and discerned, that the scope and end ofthis invention is readiness and present use ofour knowledge, and not addition or amplifica-tion thereof.

(7) To procure this ready use of knowledgethere are two courses, preparation and sugges-tion. The former of these seemeth scarcely apart of knowledge, consisting rather of dili-gence than of any artificial erudition. Andherein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, doth de-ride the sophists near his time, saying, “Theydid as if one that professed the art of shoemak-ing should not teach how to make up a shoe,but only exhibit in a readiness a number ofshoes of all fashions and sizes.” But yet a manmight reply, that if a shoemaker should haveno shoes in his shop, but only work as he isbespoken, he should be weakly customed. Butour Saviour, speaking of divine knowledge,saith, “That the kingdom of heaven is like agood householder, that bringeth forth both new

and old store;” and we see the ancient writersof rhetoric do give it in precept, that pleadersshould have the places, whereof they havemost continual use, ready handled in all thevariety that may be; as that, to speak for theliteral interpretation of the law against equity,and contrary; and to speak for presumptionsand inferences against testimony, and con-trary. And Cicero himself, being broken unto itby great experience, delivereth it plainly, thatwhatsoever a man shall have occasion to speakof (if he will take the pains), he may have it ineffect premeditate and handled in thesi. So thatwhen he cometh to a particular he shall havenothing to do, but to put to names, and times,and places, and such other circumstances ofindividuals. We see likewise the exact dili-gence of Demosthenes; who, in regard of thegreat force that the entrance and access intocauses hath to make a good impression, hadready framed a number of prefaces for orationsand speeches. All which authorities and prece-

dents may overweigh Aristotle’s opinion, thatwould have us change a rich wardrobe for apair of shears.

(8) But the nature of the collection of this provi-sion or preparatory store, though it be commonboth to logic and rhetoric, yet having made anentry of it here, where it came first to be spokenof, I think fit to refer over the further handlingof it to rhetoric.

(9) The other part of invention, which I termsuggestion, doth assign and direct us to certainmarks, or places, which may excite our mind toreturn and produce such knowledge as it hathformerly collected, to the end we may make usethereof. Neither is this use (truly taken) only tofurnish argument to dispute, probably withothers, but likewise to minister unto our judg-ment to conclude aright within ourselves. Nei-ther may these places serve only to appromptour invention, but also to direct our inquiry.

For a faculty of wise interrogating is half aknowledge. For as Plato saith, “Whosoeverseeketh, knoweth that which he seeketh for in ageneral notion; else how shall he know it whenhe hath found it?” And, therefore, the largeryour anticipation is, the more direct and com-pendious is your search. But the same placeswhich will help us what to produce of thatwhich we know already, will also help us, if aman of experience were before us, what ques-tions to ask; or, if we have books and authors toinstruct us, what points to search and revolve;so as I cannot report that this part of invention,which is that which the schools call topics, isdeficient.

(10) Nevertheless, topics are of two sorts, gen-eral and special. The general we have spokento; but the particular hath been touched bysome, but rejected generally as inartificial andvariable. But leaving the humour which hathreigned too much in the schools (which is, to be

vainly subtle in a few things which are withintheir command, and to reject the rest), I do re-ceive particular topics; that is, places or direc-tions of invention and inquiry in every particu-lar knowledge, as things of great use, beingmixtures of logic with the matter of sciences.For in these it holdeth ars inveniendi adolescitcum inventis; for as in going of a way, we do notonly gain that part of the way which is passed,but we gain the better sight of that part of theway which remaineth, so every degree of pro-ceeding in a science giveth a light to that whichfolloweth; which light, if we strengthen bydrawing it forth into questions or places of in-quiry, we do greatly advance our pursuit.

XIV. (1) Now we pass unto the arts of judg-ment, which handle the natures of proofs anddemonstrations, which as to induction hath acoincidence with invention; for all inductions,whether in good or vicious form, the same ac-tion of the mind which inventeth, judgeth - all

one as in the sense. But otherwise it is in proofby syllogism, for the proof being not immedi-ate, but by mean, the invention of the mean isone thing, and the judgment of the consequenceis another; the one exciting only, the other ex-amining. Therefore, for the real and exact formof judgment, we refer ourselves to that whichwe have spoken of interpretation of Nature.

(2) For the other judgment by syllogism, as it isa thing most agreeable to the mind of man, so ithath been vehemently end excellently la-boured. For the nature of man doth extremelycovet to have somewhat in his understandingfixed and unmovable, and as a rest and supportof the mind. And, therefore, as Aristotle en-deavoureth to prove, that in all motion there issome point quiescent; and as he elegantly ex-poundeth the ancient fable of Atlas (that stoodfixed, and bare up the heaven from falling) tobe meant of the poles or axle-tree of heaven,whereupon the conversion is accomplished, so

assuredly men have a desire to have an Atlas oraxle-tree within to keep them from fluctuation,which is like to a perpetual peril of falling.Therefore men did hasten to set down someprinciples about which the variety of their dis-putatious might turn.

(3) So, then, this art of judgment is but the re-duction of propositions to principles in a mid-dle term. The principles to be agreed by all andexempted from argument; the middle term tobe elected at the liberty of every man’s inven-tion; the reduction to be of two kinds, directand inverted: the one when the proposition isreduced to the principle, which they term aprobation ostensive; the other, when the con-tradictory of the proposition is reduced to thecontradictory of the principle, which is thatwhich they call per incommodum, or pressing anabsurdity; the number of middle terms to be asthe proposition standeth degrees more or lessremoved from the principle.

(4) But this art hath two several methods ofdoctrine, the one by way of direction, the otherby way of caution: the former frameth and set-teth down a true form of consequence, by thevariations and deflections from which errorsand inconsequences may be exactly judged.Toward the composition and structure of whichform it is incident to handle the parts thereof,which are propositions, and the parts of propo-sitions, which are simple words. And this isthat part of logic which is comprehended in theAnalytics.

(5) The second method of doctrine was intro-duced for expedite use and assurance sake,discovering the more subtle forms of sophismsand illaqueations with their redargutions,which is that which is termed elenches. For al-though in the more gross sorts of fallacies ithappeneth (as Seneca maketh the comparisonwell) as in juggling feats, which, though we

know not how they are done, yet we know wellit is not as it seemeth to be; yet the more subtlesort of them doth not only put a man besideshis answer, but doth many times abuse hisjudgment.

(6) This part concerning elenches is excellentlyhandled by Aristotle in precept, but more excel-lently by Plato in example; not only in the per-sons of the sophists, but even in Socrates him-self, who, professing to affirm nothing, but toinfirm that which was affirmed by another,hath exactly expressed all the forms of objec-tion, fallace, and redargution. And althoughwe have said that the use of this doctrine is forredargution, yet it is manifest the degenerateand corrupt use is for caption and contradic-tion, which passeth for a great faculty, and nodoubt is of very great advantage, though thedifference be good which was made betweenorators and sophisters, that the one is as thegreyhound, which hath his advantage in the

race, and the other as the hare, which hath heradvantage in the turn, so as it is the advantageof the weaker creature.

(7) But yet further, this doctrine of elencheshath a more ample latitude and extent than isperceived; namely, unto divers parts of knowl-edge, whereof some are laboured and otheromitted. For first, I conceive (though it mayseem at first somewhat strange) that that partwhich is variably referred, sometimes to logic,sometimes to metaphysic, touching the com-mon adjuncts of essences, is but an elenche; forthe great sophism of all sophisms being equi-vocation or ambiguity of words and phrase,specially of such words as are most general andintervene in every inquiry, it seemeth to methat the true and fruitful use (leaving vain sub-tleties and speculations) of the inquiry of ma-jority, minority, priority, posteriority, identity,diversity, possibility, act, totality, parts, exis-tence, privation, and the like, are but wise cau-

tions against ambiguities of speech. So, again,the distribution of things into certain tribes,which we call categories or predicaments, arebut cautions against the confusion of defini-tions and divisions.

(8) Secondly, there is a seducement that wor-keth by the strength of the impression, and notby the subtlety of the illaqueation - not so muchperplexing the reason, as overruling it by po-wer of the imagination. But this part I thinkmore proper to handle when I shall speak ofrhetoric.

(9) But lastly, there is yet a much more impor-tant and profound kind of fallacies in the mindof man, which I find not observed or inquiredat all, and think good to place here, as thatwhich of all others appertaineth most to rectifyjudgment, the force whereof is such as it dothnot dazzle or snare the understanding in someparticulars, but doth more generally and in-

wardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. Forthe mind of man is far from the nature of aclear and equal glass, wherein the beams ofthings should reflect according to their trueincidence; nay, it is rather like an enchantedglass, full of superstition and imposture, if it benot delivered and reduced. For this purpose,let us consider the false appearances that areimposed upon us by the general nature of themind, beholding them in an example or two; asfirst, in that instance which is the root of allsuperstition, namely, that to the nature of themind of all men it is consonant for the affirma-tive or active to affect more than the negative orprivative. So that a few times hitting or pres-ence countervails ofttimes failing or absence, aswas well answered by Diagoras to him thatshowed him in Neptune’s temple the greatnumber of pictures of such as had escapedshipwreck, and had paid their vows to Nep-tune, saying, “Advise now, you that think itfolly to invocate Neptune in tempest.” “Yea,

but,” saith Diagoras, “where are they paintedthat are drowned?” Let us behold it in anotherinstance, namely, that the spirit of man, beingof an equal and uniform substance, doth usu-ally suppose and feign in nature a greaterequality and uniformity than is in truth. Henceit cometh that the mathematicians cannot sat-isfy themselves except they reduce the motionsof the celestial bodies to perfect circles, rejectingspiral lines, and labouring to be discharged ofeccentrics. Hence it cometh that whereas thereare many things in Nature as it were monodica,sui juris, yet the cogitations of man do feignunto them relatives, parallels, and conjugates,whereas no such thing is; as they have feignedan element of fire to keep square with earth,water, and air, and the like. Nay, it is not cre-dible, till it be opened, what a number of fic-tions and fantasies the similitude of humanactions and arts, together with the making ofman communis mensura, have brought into na-tural philosophy; not much better than the her-

esy of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cellsof gross and solitary monks, and the opinion ofEpicurus, answerable to the same in heathen-ism, who supposed the gods to be of humanshape. And, therefore, Velleius the Epicureanneeded not to have asked why God shouldhave adorned the heavens with stars, as if Hehad been an ædilis, one that should have setforth some magnificent shows or plays. For ifthat great Work-master had been of a humandisposition, He would have cast the stars intosome pleasant and beautiful works and orderslike the frets in the roofs of houses; whereasone can scarce find a posture in square, or tri-angle, or straight line, amongst such an infinitenumber, so differing a harmony there is be-tween the spirit of man and the spirit of Nature.

(10) Let us consider again the false appearancesimposed upon us by every man’s own individ-ual nature and custom in that feigned supposi-tion that Plato maketh of the cave; for certainly

if a child were continued in a grot or cave un-der the earth until maturity of age, and camesuddenly abroad, he would have strange andabsurd imaginations. So, in like manner, al-though our persons live in the view of heaven,yet our spirits are included in the caves of ourown complexions and customs, which ministerunto us infinite errors and vain opinions if theybe not recalled to examination. But hereof wehave given many examples in one of the errors,or peccant humours, which we ran briefly overin our first book.

(11) And lastly, let us consider the false appear-ances that are imposed upon us by words,which are framed and applied according to theconceit and capacities of the vulgar sort; andalthough we think we govern our words, andprescribe it well loquendum ut vulgus sentiendumut sapientes, yet certain it is that words, as a Tar-tar’s bow, do shoot back upon the understand-ing of the wisest, and mightily entangle and

pervert the judgment. So as it is almost neces-sary in all controversies and disputations toimitate the wisdom of the mathematicians, insetting down in the very beginning the defini-tions of our words and terms, that others mayknow how we accept and understand them,and whether they concur with us or no. For itcometh to pass, for want of this, that we aresure to end there where we ought to have be-gun, which is, in questions and differencesabout words. To conclude, therefore, it must beconfessed that it is not possible to divorce our-selves from these fallacies and false appear-ances because they are inseparable from ournature and condition of life; so yet, neverthe-less, the caution of them (for all elenches, aswas said, are but cautions) doth extremely im-port the true conduct of human judgment. Theparticular elenches or cautions against thesethree false appearances I find altogether defi-cient.

(12) There remaineth one part of judgment ofgreat excellency which to mine understandingis so slightly touched, as I may report that alsodeficient; which is the application of the differ-ing kinds of proofs to the differing kinds ofsubjects. For there being but four kinds of de-monstrations, that is, by the immediate consentof the mind or sense, by induction, by syllo-gism, and by congruity, which is that whichAristotle calleth demonstration in orb or circle,and not a notioribus, every of these hath certainsubjects in the matter of sciences, in which re-spectively they have chiefest use; and certainothers, from which respectively they ought tobe excluded; and the rigour and curiosity inrequiring the more severe proofs in somethings, and chiefly the facility in contentingourselves with the more remiss proofs in oth-ers, hath been amongst the greatest causes ofdetriment and hindrance to knowledge. Thedistributions and assignations of demonstra-tions according to the analogy of sciences I note

as deficient.

XV. (1) The custody or retaining of knowledgeis either in writing or memory; whereof writinghath two parts, the nature of the character andthe order of the entry. For the art of characters,or other visible notes of words or things, it hathnearest conjugation with grammar, and, there-fore, I refer it to the due place; for the disposi-tion and collocation of that knowledge whichwe preserve in writing, it consisteth in a gooddigest of common-places, wherein I am notignorant of the prejudice imputed to the use ofcommon-place books, as causing a retardationof reading, and some sloth or relaxation ofmemory. But because it is but a counterfeitthing in knowledges to be forward and preg-nant, except a man be deep and full, I hold theentry of common-places to be a matter of greatuse and essence in studying, as that which as-sureth copy of invention, and contractethjudgment to a strength. But this is true, that of

the methods of common-places that I haveseen, there is none of any sufficient worth, all ofthem carrying merely the face of a school andnot of a world; and referring to vulgar mattersand pedantical divisions, without all life orrespect to action.

(2) For the other principal part of the custody ofknowledge, which is memory, I find that fac-ulty in my judgment weakly inquired of. Anart there is extant of it; but it seemeth to me thatthere are better precepts than that art, and bet-ter practices of that art than those received. It iscertain the art (as it is) may be raised to pointsof ostentation prodigious; but in use (as is nowmanaged) it is barren, not burdensome, nordangerous to natural memory, as is imagined,but barren, that is, not dexterous to be appliedto the serious use of business and occasions.And, therefore, I make no more estimation ofrepeating a great number of names or wordsupon once hearing, or the pouring forth of a

number of verses or rhymes extempore, or themaking of a satirical simile of everything, or theturning of everything to a jest, or the falsifyingor contradicting of everything by cavil, or thelike (whereof in the faculties of the mind thereis great copy, and such as by device and prac-tice may be exalted to an extreme degree ofwonder), than I do of the tricks of tumblers,funambuloes, baladines; the one being the samein the mind that the other is in the body, mat-ters of strangeness without worthiness.

(3) This art of memory is but built upon twointentions; the one prenotion, the other em-blem. Prenotion dischargeth the indefinite see-king of that we would remember, and directethus to seek in a narrow compass, that is, some-what that hath congruity with our place ofmemory. Emblem reduceth conceits intellec-tual to images sensible, which strike the mem-ory more; out of which axioms may be drawnmuch better practice than that in use; and be-

sides which axioms, there are divers moretouching help of memory not inferior to them.But I did in the beginning distinguish, not toreport those things deficient, which are butonly ill managed.

XVI. (1) There remaineth the fourth kind ofrational knowledge, which is transitive, con-cerning the expressing or transferring ourknowledge to others, which I will term by thegeneral name of tradition or delivery. Tradi-tion hath three parts: the first concerning theorgan of tradition; the second concerning themethod of tradition; and the third concerningthe illustration of tradition.

(2) For the organ of tradition, it is either speechor writing; for Aristotle saith well, “Words arethe images of cogitations, and letters are theimages of words.” But yet it is not of necessitythat cogitations be expressed by the medium ofwords. For whatsoever is capable of sufficient

differences, and those perceptible by the sense,is in nature competent to express cogitations.And, therefore, we see in the commerce of bar-barous people that understand not one an-other’s language, and in the practice of diversthat are dumb and deaf, that men’s minds areexpressed in gestures, though not exactly, yetto serve the turn. And we understand further,that it is the use of China and the kingdoms ofthe High Levant to write in characters real,which express neither letters nor words ingross, but things or notions; insomuch as coun-tries and provinces which understand not oneanother’s language can nevertheless read oneanother’s writings, because the characters areaccepted more generally than the languages doextend; and, therefore, they have a vast multi-tude of characters, as many, I suppose, as radi-cal words.

(3) These notes of cogitations are of two sorts:the one when the note hath some similitude or

congruity with the notion; the other ad placitum,having force only by contract or acceptation.Of the former sort are hieroglyphics and ges-tures. For as to hieroglyphics (things of ancientuse and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, oneof the most ancient nations), they are but ascontinued impresses and emblems. And as forgestures, they are as transitory hieroglyphics,and are to hieroglyphics as words spoken are towords written, in that they abide not; but theyhave evermore, as well as the other, an affinitywith the things signified. As Periander, beingconsulted with how to preserve a tyranny new-ly usurped, bid the messenger attend and re-port what he saw him do; and went into hisgarden and topped all the highest flowers, sig-nifying that it consisted in the cutting off andkeeping low of the nobility and grandees. Adplacitum, are the characters real before men-tioned, and words: although some have beenwilling by curious inquiry, or rather by aptfeigning, to have derived imposition of names

from reason and intendment; a speculation ele-gant, and, by reason it searcheth into antiquity,reverent, but sparingly mixed with truth, andof small fruit. This portion of knowledgetouching the notes of things and cogitations ingeneral, I find not inquired, but deficient. Andalthough it may seem of no great use, consider-ing that words and writings by letters do farexcel all the other ways; yet because this partconcerneth, as it were, the mint of knowledge(for words are the tokens current and acceptedfor conceits, as moneys are for values, and thatit is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may beof another kind than gold and silver), I thoughtgood to propound it to better inquiry.

(4) Concerning speech and words, the consid-eration of them hath produced the science ofgrammar. For man still striveth to reintegratehimself in those benedictions, from which byhis fault he hath been deprived; and as he hathstriven against the first general curse by the

invention of all other arts, so hath he sought tocome forth of the second general curse (whichwas the confusion of tongues) by the art ofgrammar; whereof the use in a mother tongueis small, in a foreign tongue more; but most insuch foreign tongues as have ceased to be vul-gar tongues, and are turned only to learnedtongues. The duty of it is of two natures: theone popular, which is for the speedy and per-fect attaining languages, as well for intercourseof speech as for understanding of authors; theother philosophical, examining the power andnature of words, as they are the footsteps andprints of reason: which kind of analogy be-tween words and reason is handled sparsim,brokenly though not entirely; and, therefore, Icannot report it deficient, though I think it veryworthy to be reduced into a science by itself.

(5) Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appen-dix, the consideration of the accidents of words;which are measure, sound, and elevation or

accent, and the sweetness and harshness ofthem: whence hath issued some curious obser-vations in rhetoric, but chiefly poesy, as weconsider it, in respect of the verse and not of theargument. Wherein though men in learnedtongues do tie themselves to the ancient meas-ures, yet in modern languages it seemeth to meas free to make new measures of verses as ofdances; for a dance is a measured pace, as averse is a measured speech. In these things thissense is better judge than the art:

“Cœnæ fercula nostræMallem convivis quam placuisse cocis.”

And of the servile expressing antiquity in anunlike and an unfit subject, it is well said,“Quod tempore antiquum videtur, id incongruitateest maxime novum.”

(6) For ciphers, they are commonly in letters oralphabets, but may be in words. The kinds ofciphers (besides the simple ciphers, with chan-ges, and intermixtures of nulls and non-significants) are many, according to the natureor rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles, &c. But the virtues of them,whereby they are to be preferred, are three; thatthey be not laborious to write and read; thatthey be impossible to decipher; and, in somecases, that they be without suspicion. The hig-hest degree whereof is to write omnia per omnia;which is undoubtedly possible, with a propor-tion quintuple at most of the writing infoldingto the writing infolded, and no other restraintwhatsoever. This art of ciphering hath for rela-tive an art of deciphering, by supposition un-profitable, but, as things are, of great use. Forsuppose that ciphers were well managed, therebe multitudes of them which exclude the deci-pherer. But in regard of the rawness and un-skilfulness of the hands through which they

pass, the greatest matters are many times car-ried in the weakest ciphers.

(7) In the enumeration of these private and re-tired arts it may be thought I seek to make agreat muster-roll of sciences, naming them forshow and ostentation, and to little other pur-pose. But let those, which are skilful in them,judge whether I bring them in only for appear-ance, or whether in that which I speak of them(though in few words) there be not some seedof proficience. And this must be remembered,that as there be many of great account in theircountries and provinces, which, when theycome up to the seat of the estate, are but ofmean rank and scarcely regarded; so these arts,being here placed with the principal and su-preme sciences, seem petty things: yet to suchas have chosen them to spend their labours andstudies in them, they seem great matters.

XVII. (1) For the method of tradition, I see it

hath moved a controversy in our time. But asin civil business, if there be a meeting, and menfall at words, there is commonly an end of thematter for that time, and no proceeding at all;so in learning, where there is much contro-versy, there is many times little inquiry. Forthis part of knowledge of method seemeth tome so weakly inquired as I shall report it defi-cient.

(2) Method hath been placed, and that notamiss, in logic, as a part of judgment. For asthe doctrine of syllogisms comprehendeth therules of judgment upon that which is invented,so the doctrine of method containeth the rulesof judgment upon that which is to be delivered;for judgment precedeth delivery, as it followethinvention. Neither is the method or the natureof the tradition material only to the use ofknowledge, but likewise to the progression ofknowledge: for since the labour and life of oneman cannot attain to perfection of knowledge,

the wisdom of the tradition is that which in-spireth the felicity of continuance and proceed-ing. And therefore the most real diversity ofmethod is of method referred to use, andmethod referred to progression: whereof theone may be termed magistral, and the other ofprobation.

(3) The latter whereof seemeth to be via desertaet interclusa. For as knowledges are now deliv-ered, there is a kind of contract of error be-tween the deliverer and the receiver. For hethat delivereth knowledge desireth to deliver itin such form as may be best believed, and notas may be best examined; and he that receivethknowledge desireth rather present satisfactionthan expectant inquiry; and so rather not todoubt, than not to err: glory making the authornot to lay open his weakness, and sloth makingthe disciple not to know his strength.

(4) But knowledge that is delivered as a thread

to be spun on ought to be delivered and inti-mated, if it were possible, in the same methodwherein it was invented: and so is it possible ofknowledge induced. But in this same antici-pated and prevented knowledge, no man kno-weth how he came to the knowledge which hehath obtained. But yet, nevertheless, secundummajus et minus, a man may revisit and descendunto the foundations of his knowledge andconsent; and so transplant it into another, as itgrew in his own mind. For it is in knowledgesas it is in plants: if you mean to use the plant, itis no matter for the roots - but if you mean toremove it to grow, then it is more assured torest upon roots than slips: so the delivery ofknowledges (as it is now used) is as of fair bod-ies of trees without the roots; good for the car-penter, but not for the planter. But if you willhave sciences grow, it is less matter for theshaft or body of the tree, so you look well to thetaking up of the roots. Of which kind of deliv-ery the method of the mathematics, in that sub-

ject, hath some shadow: but generally I see itneither put in use nor put in inquisition, andtherefore note it for deficient.

(5) Another diversity of method there is, whichhath some affinity with the former, used in so-me cases by the discretion of the ancients, butdisgraced since by the impostures of many vainpersons, who have made it as a false light fortheir counterfeit merchandises; and that isenigmatical and disclosed. The pretence whe-reof is, to remove the vulgar capacities frombeing admitted to the secrets of knowledges,and to reserve them to selected auditors, orwits of such sharpness as can pierce the veil.

(6) Another diversity of method, whereof theconsequence is great, is the delivery of knowl-edge in aphorisms, or in methods; wherein wemay observe that it hath been too much takeninto custom, out of a few axioms or observa-tions upon any subject, to make a solemn and

formal art, filling it with some discourses, andillustrating it with examples, and digesting itinto a sensible method. But the writing in ap-horisms hath many excellent virtues, wheretothe writing in method doth not approach.

(7) For first, it trieth the writer, whether he besuperficial or solid: for aphorisms, except theyshould be ridiculous, cannot be made but of thepith and heart of sciences; for discourse of illus-tration is cut off; recitals of examples are cut off;discourse of connection and order is cut off;descriptions of practice are cut off. So thereremaineth nothing to fill the aphorisms butsome good quantity of observation; and there-fore no man can suffice, nor in reason will at-tempt, to write aphorisms, but he that is soundand grounded. But in methods,

“Tantum series juncturaque pollet,Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,”

as a man shall make a great show of an art,which, if it were disjointed, would come to lit-tle. Secondly, methods are more fit to win con-sent or belief, but less fit to point to action; forthey carry a kind of demonstration in orb orcircle, one part illuminating another, and there-fore satisfy. But particulars being dispersed dobest agree with dispersed directions. And las-tly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge bro-ken, do invite men to inquire further; whereasmethods, carrying the show of a total, do se-cure men, as if they were at furthest.

(8) Another diversity of method, which is like-wise of great weight, is the handling of knowl-edge by assertions and their proofs, or by ques-tions and their determinations. The latter kindwhereof, if it be immoderately followed, is asprejudicial to the proceeding of learning as it isto the proceeding of an army to go about to

besiege every little fort or hold. For if the fieldbe kept, and the sum of the enterprise pursued,those smaller things will come in of themselves:indeed a man would not leave some importantpiece enemy at his back. In like manner, theuse of confutation in the delivery of sciencesought to be very sparing; and to serve to re-move strong preoccupations and prejudg-ments, and not to minister and excite disputa-tious and doubts.

(9) Another diversity of method is, according tothe subject or matter which is handled. Forthere is a great difference in delivery of themathematics, which are the most abstracted ofknowledges, and policy, which is the most im-mersed. And howsoever contention hath beenmoved, touching a uniformity of method inmultiformity of matter, yet we see how thatopinion, besides the weakness of it, hath beenof ill desert towards learning, as that whichtaketh the way to reduce learning to certain

empty and barren generalities; being but thevery husks and shells of sciences, all the kernelbeing forced out and expulsed with the tortureand press of the method. And, therefore, as Idid allow well of particular topics for inven-tion, so I do allow likewise of particular meth-ods of tradition.

(10) Another diversity of judgment in the deliv-ery and teaching of knowledge is, accordingunto the light and presuppositions of thatwhich is delivered. For that knowledge whichis new, and foreign from opinions received, isto be delivered in another form than that that isagreeable and familiar; and therefore Aristotle,when he thinks to tax Democritus, doth in truthcommend him, where he saith “If we shall in-deed dispute, and not follow after similitudes,”&c. For those whose conceits are seated in po-pular opinions need only but to prove or dis-pute; but those whose conceits are beyondpopular opinions, have a double labour; the

one to make themselves conceived, and theother to prove and demonstrate. So that it is ofnecessity with them to have recourse to simili-tudes and translations to express themselves.And therefore in the infancy of learning, and inrude times when those conceits which are nowtrivial were then new, the world was full ofparables and similitudes; for else would meneither have passed over without mark, or elserejected for paradoxes that which was offered,before they had understood or judged. So indivine learning, we see how frequent parablesand tropes are, for it is a rule, that whatsoeverscience is not consonant to presuppositionsmust pray in aid of similitudes.

(11) There be also other diversities of methodsvulgar and received: as that of resolution oranalysis, of constitution or systasis, of conceal-ment or cryptic, &c., which I do allow well of,though I have stood upon those which are leasthandled and observed. All which I have re-

membered to this purpose, because I woulderect and constitute one general inquiry (whichseems to me deficient) touching the wisdom oftradition.

(12) But unto this part of knowledge, concern-ing method, doth further belong not only thearchitecture of the whole frame of a work, butalso the several beams and columns thereof; notas to their stuff, but as to their quantity andfigure. And therefore method considereth notonly the disposition of the argument or subject,but likewise the propositions: not as to theirtruth or matter, but as to their limitation andmanner. For herein Ramus merited better agreat deal in reviving the good rules of propo-sitions - , &c. -than he did in introducing the canker of epito-mes; and yet (as it is the condition of humanthings that, according to the ancient fables, “themost precious things have the most perniciouskeepers”) it was so, that the attempt of the one

made him fall upon the other. For he had needbe well conducted that should design to makeaxioms convertible, if he make them not withalcircular, and non-promovent, or incurring intothemselves; but yet the intention was excellent.

(13) The other considerations of method, con-cerning propositions, are chiefly touching theutmost propositions, which limit the dimen-sions of sciences: for every knowledge may befitly said, besides the profundity (which is thetruth and substance of it, that makes it solid), tohave a longitude and a latitude; accounting thelatitude towards other sciences, and the longi-tude towards action; that is, from the greatestgenerality to the most particular precept. Theone giveth rule how far one knowledge oughtto intermeddle within the province of another,which is the rule they call ; the othergiveth rule unto what degree of particularity aknowledge should descend: which latter I findpassed over in silence, being in my judgment

the more material. For certainty there must besomewhat left to practice; but how much isworthy the inquiry? We see remote and super-ficial generalities do but offer knowledge toscorn of practical men; and are no more aidingto practice than an Ortelius’ universal map is todirect the way between London and York. Thebetter sort of rules have been not unfitly com-pared to glasses of steel unpolished, where youmay see the images of things, but first theymust be filed: so the rules will help if they belaboured and polished by practice. But howcrystalline they may be made at the first, andhow far forth they may be polished aforehand,is the question, the inquiry whereof seemeth tome deficient.

(14) There hath been also laboured and put inpractice a method, which is not a lawful met-hod, but a method of imposture: which is, todeliver knowledges in such manner as menmay speedily come to make a show of learning,

who have it not. Such was the travail of Ray-mundus Lullius in making that art which bearshis name; not unlike to some books of typo-cosmy, which have been made since; beingnothing but a mass of words of all arts, to givemen countenance, that those which use theterms might be thought to understand the art;which collections are much like a fripper’s orbroker’s shop, that hath ends of everything, butnothing of worth.

XVIII. (1) Now we descend to that part whichconcerneth the illustration of tradition, com-prehended in that science which we call rheto-ric, or art of eloquence, a science excellent, andexcellently well laboured. For although in truevalue it is inferior to wisdom (as it is said byGod to Moses, when he disabled himself forwant of this faculty, “Aaron shall be thy spea-ker, and thou shalt be to him as God”), yet withpeople it is the more mighty; for so Solomonsaith, Sapiens corde appellabitur prudens, sed dulcis

eloquio majora reperiet, signifying that profound-ness of wisdom will help a man to a name oradmiration, but that it is eloquence that pre-vaileth in an active life. And as to the labour-ing of it, the emulation of Aristotle with therhetoricians of his time, and the experience ofCicero, hath made them in their works of rheto-ric exceed themselves. Again, the excellency ofexamples of eloquence in the orations of De-mosthenes and Cicero, added to the perfectionof the precepts of eloquence, hath doubled theprogression in this art; and therefore the defi-ciences which I shall note will rather be in somecollections, which may as handmaids attendthe art, than in the rules or use of the art itself.

(2) Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a littleabout the roots of this science, as we have doneof the rest, the duty and office of rhetoric is toapply reason to imagination for the better mov-ing of the will. For we see reason is disturbedin the administration thereof by three means -

by illaqueation or sophism, which pertains tologic; by imagination or impression, which per-tains to rhetoric; and by passion or affection,which pertains to morality. And as in negotia-tion with others, men are wrought by cunning,by importunity, and by vehemency; so in thisnegotiation within ourselves, men are under-mined by inconsequences, solicited and impor-tuned by impressions or observations, andtransported by passions. Neither is the natureof man so unfortunately built, as that thosepowers and arts should have force to disturbreason, and not to establish and advance it. Forthe end of logic is to teach a form of argumentto secure reason, and not to entrap it; the end ofmorality is to procure the affections to obeyreason, and not to invade it; the end of rhetoricis to fill the imagination to second reason, andnot to oppress it; for these abuses of arts comein but ex oblique, for caution.

(3) And therefore it was great injustice in Plato,

though springing out of a just hatred to therhetoricians of his time, to esteem of rhetoricbut as a voluptuary art, resembling it to cook-ery, that did mar wholesome meats, and helpunwholesome by variety of sauces to the pleas-ure of the taste. For we see that speech is muchmore conversant in adorning that which isgood than in colouring that which is evil; forthere is no man but speaketh more honestlythan he can do or think; and it was excellentlynoted by Thucydides, in Cleon, that because heused to hold on the bad side in causes of estate,therefore he was ever inveighing against elo-quence and good speech, knowing that no mancan speak fair of courses sordid and base. Andtherefore, as Plato said elegantly, “That virtue,if she could be seen, would move great loveand affection;” so seeing that she cannot beshowed to the sense by corporal shape, the nextdegree is to show her to the imagination in live-ly representation; for to show her to reasononly in subtlety of argument was a thing ever

derided in Chrysippus and many of the Stoics,who thought to thrust virtue upon men bysharp disputations and conclusions, whichhave no sympathy with the will of man.

(4) Again, if the affections in themselves werepliant and obedient to reason, it were true thereshould be no great use of persuasions and in-sinuations to the will, more than of nakedproposition and proofs; but in regard of thecontinual mutinies and seditious of the affec-tions -

“Video meliora, proboque,Deteriora sequor,”

reason would become captive and servile, ifeloquence of persuasions did not practise andwin the imagination from the affections’ part,and contract a confederacy between the reason

and imagination against the affections; for theaffections themselves carry ever an appetite togood, as reason doth. The difference is, that theaffection beholdeth merely the present; reasonbeholdeth the future and sum of time. And,therefore, the present filling the imaginationmore, reason is commonly vanquished; butafter that force of eloquence and persuasionhath made things future and remote appear aspresent, then upon the revolt of the imagina-tion reason prevaileth.

(5) We conclude, therefore, that rhetoric can beno more charged with the colouring of theworst part, than logic with sophistry, or moral-ity with vice; for we know the doctrines of con-traries are the same, though the use be oppo-site. It appeareth also that logic differeth fromrhetoric, not only as the fist from the palm - theone close, the other at large - but much more inthis, that logic handleth reason exact and intruth, and rhetoric handleth it as it is planted in

popular opinions and manners. And thereforeAristotle doth wisely place rhetoric as betweenlogic on the one side, and moral or civil knowl-edge on the other, as participating of both; forthe proofs and demonstrations of logic are to-ward all men indifferent and the same, but theproofs and persuasions of rhetoric ought todiffer according to the auditors:

“Orpheus in sylvis, inter delphinas Arion.”

Which application in perfection of idea oughtto extend so far that if a man should speak ofthe same thing to several persons, he shouldspeak to them all respectively and severalways; though this politic part of eloquence inprivate speech it is easy for the greatest oratorsto want: whilst, by the observing their well-graced forms of speech, they leese the volubil-ity of application; and therefore it shall not be

amiss to recommend this to better inquiry, notbeing curious whether we place it here or inthat part which concerneth policy.

(6) Now therefore will I descend to the defi-ciences, which, as I said, are but attendances;and first, I do not find the wisdom and dili-gence of Aristotle well pursued, who began tomake a collection of the popular signs and col-ours of good and evil, both simple and com-parative, which are as the sophisms of rhetoric(as I touched before). For example -

“Sophisma.Quod laudatur, bonum: quod vituperatur, ma-lum.

Redargutio.Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces.”

Malum est, malum est (inquit emptor): sed cum

recesserit, tum gloriabitur! The defects in thelabour of Aristotle are three - one, that there bebut a few of many; another, that there elenchesare not annexed; and the third, that he con-ceived but a part of the use of them: for theiruse is not only in probation, but much more inimpression. For many forms are equal in signi-fication which are differing in impression, asthe difference is great in the piercing of thatwhich is sharp and that which is flat, thoughthe strength of the percussion be the same. Forthere is no man but will be a little more raisedby hearing it said, “Your enemies will be gladof this” -

“Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur At-ridæ.”

than by hearing it said only, “This is evil foryou.”

(7) Secondly, I do resume also that which Imentioned before, touching provision or pre-paratory store for the furniture of speech andreadiness of invention, which appeareth to beof two sorts: the one in resemblance to a shopof pieces unmade up, the other to a shop ofthings ready made up; both to be applied tothat which is frequent and most in request. Theformer of these I will call antitheta, and the lat-ter formulæ.

(8) Antitheta are theses argued pro et contra,wherein men may be more large and laborious;but (in such as are able to do it) to avoid prolix-ity of entry, I wish the seeds of the several ar-guments to be cast up into some brief and acutesentences, not to be cited, but to be as skeins orbottoms of thread, to be unwinded at largewhen they come to be used; supplying authori-ties and examples by reference.

“Pro verbis legis.Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quæ re-cedit a litera:Cum receditur a litera, judex transit in legisla-torem.

Pro sententia legis.Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus quiinterpretatur singula.”

(9) Formulæ are but decent and apt passages orconveyances of speech, which may serve indif-ferently for differing subjects; as of preface,conclusion, digression, transition, excusation,&c. For as in buildings there is great pleasureand use in the well casting of the staircases,entries, doors, windows, and the like; so inspeech, the conveyances and passages are ofspecial ornament and effect.

“A conclusion in a deliberative.So may we redeem the faults passed, and pre-vent the inconveniences future.”

XIX. (1) There remain two appendices touchingthe tradition of knowledge, the one critical, theother pedantical. For all knowledge is eitherdelivered by teachers, or attained by men’sproper endeavours: and therefore as the princi-pal part of tradition of knowledge concernethchiefly writing of books, so the relative partthereof concerneth reading of books; where-unto appertain incidently these considerations.The first is concerning the true correction andedition of authors; wherein nevertheless rashdiligence hath done great prejudice. For thesecritics have often presumed that that whichthey understand not is false set down: as thepriest that, where he found it written of St. PaulDemissus est per sportam, mended his book, and

made it Demissus est per portam; because sportawas a hard word, and out of his reading: andsurely their errors, though they be not so pal-pable and ridiculous, yet are of the same kind.And therefore, as it hath been wisely noted, themost corrected copies are commonly the leastcorrect.

The second is concerning the exposition andexplication of authors, which resteth in annota-tions and commentaries: wherein it is overusual to blanch the obscure places and dis-course upon the plain.

The third is concerning the times, which in ma-ny cases give great light to true interpretations.

The fourth is concerning some brief censureand judgment of the authors; that men therebymay make some election unto themselves whatbooks to read.

And the fifth is concerning the syntax and dis-position of studies; that men may know in whatorder or pursuit to read.

(2) For pedantical knowledge, it containeth thatdifference of tradition which is proper foryouth; whereunto appertain divers considera-tions of great fruit.

As first, the timing and seasoning of knowl-edges; as with what to initiate them, and fromwhat for a time to refrain them.

Secondly, the consideration where to beginwith the easiest, and so proceed to the moredifficult; and in what courses to press the moredifficult, and then to turn them to the moreeasy; for it is one method to practise swimmingwith bladders, and another to practise dancingwith heavy shoes.

A third is the application of learning according

unto the propriety of the wits; for there is nodefect in the faculties intellectual, but seemethto have a proper cure contained in some stud-ies: as, for example, if a child be bird-witted,that is, hath not the faculty of attention, themathematics giveth a remedy thereunto; for inthem, if the wit be caught away but a moment,one is new to begin. And as sciences have apropriety towards faculties for cure and help,so faculties or powers have a sympathy to-wards sciences for excellency or speedy profit-ing: and therefore it is an inquiry of great wis-dom, what kinds of wits and natures are mostapt and proper for what sciences.

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter ofgreat consequence to hurt or help: for, as is wellobserved by Cicero, men in exercising theirfaculties, if they be not well advised, do exer-cise their faults and get ill habits as well asgood; so as there is a great judgment to be hadin the continuance and intermission of exer-

cises. It were too long to particularise a num-ber of other considerations of this nature,things but of mean appearance, but of singularefficacy. For as the wronging or cherishing ofseeds or young plants is that that is most im-portant to their thriving, and as it was notedthat the first six kings being in truth as tutors ofthe state of Rome in the infancy thereof was theprincipal cause of the immense greatness ofthat state which followed, so the culture andmanurance of minds in youth hath such aforcible (though unseen) operation, as hardlyany length of time or contention of labour cancountervail it afterwards. And it is not amiss toobserve also how small and mean faculties got-ten by education, yet when they fall into greatmen or great matters, do work great and im-portant effects: whereof we see a notable ex-ample in Tacitus of two stage players, Percen-nius and Vibulenus, who by their faculty ofplaying put the Pannonian armies into an ex-treme tumult and combustion. For there aris-

ing a mutiny amongst them upon the death ofAugustus Cæsar, Blæsus the lieutenant hadcommitted some of the mutineers, which weresuddenly rescued; whereupon Vibulenus got tobe heard speak, which he did in this manner:-“These poor innocent wretches appointed tocruel death, you have restored to behold thelight; but who shall restore my brother to me,or life unto my brother, that was sent hither inmessage from the legions of Germany, to treatof the common cause? and he hath murderedhim this last night by some of his fencers andruffians, that he hath about him for his execu-tioners upon soldiers. Answer, Blæsus, what isdone with his body? The mortalest enemies donot deny burial. When I have performed mylast duties to the corpse with kisses, with tears,command me to be slain besides him; so thatthese my fellows, for our good meaning andour true hearts to the legions, may have leaveto bury us.” With which speech he put thearmy into an infinite fury and uproar: whereas

truth was he had no brother, neither was thereany such matter; but he played it merely as ifhe had been upon the stage.

(3) But to return: we are now come to a periodof rational knowledges; wherein if I have madethe divisions other than those that are received,yet would I not be thought to disallow all thosedivisions which I do not use. For there is adouble necessity imposed upon me of alteringthe divisions. The one, because it differeth inend and purpose, to sort together those thingswhich are next in nature, and those thingswhich are next in use. For if a secretary of es-tate should sort his papers, it is like in his studyor general cabinet he would sort togetherthings of a nature, as treaties, instructions, &c.But in his boxes or particular cabinet he wouldsort together those that he were like to use to-gether, though of several natures. So in thisgeneral cabinet of knowledge it was necessaryfor me to follow the divisions of the nature of

things; whereas if myself had been to handleany particular knowledge, I would have re-spected the divisions fittest for use. The other,because the bringing in of the deficiences didby consequence alter the partitions of the rest.For let the knowledge extant (for demonstra-tion sake) be fifteen. Let the knowledge withthe deficiences be twenty; the parts of fifteenare not the parts of twenty; for the parts of fif-teen are three and five; the parts of twenty aretwo, four, five, and ten. So as these things arewithout contradiction, and could not otherwisebe.

XX. (1) We proceed now to that knowledgewhich considereth of the appetite and will ofman: whereof Solomon saith, Ante omnia, fili,custodi cor tuum: nam inde procedunt actionesvitæ. In the handling of this science, thosewhich have written seem to me to have done asif a man, that professed to teach to write, didonly exhibit fair copies of alphabets and letters

joined, without giving any precepts or direc-tions for the carriage of the hand and framingof the letters. So have they made good and fairexemplars and copies, carrying the draughtsand portraitures of good, virtue, duty, felicity;propounding them well described as the trueobjects and scopes of man’s will and desires.But how to attain these excellent marks, andhow to frame and subdue the will of man tobecome true and conformable to these pursuits,they pass it over altogether, or slightly and un-profitably. For it is not the disputing that mo-ral virtues are in the mind of man by habit andnot by nature, or the distinguishing that gener-ous spirits are won by doctrines and persua-sions, and the vulgar sort by reward and pun-ishment, and the like scattered glances andtouches, that can excuse the absence of thispart.

(2) The reason of this omission I suppose to bethat hidden rock whereupon both this and ma-

ny other barks of knowledge have been castaway; which is, that men have despised to beconversant in ordinary and common matters,the judicious direction whereof nevertheless isthe wisest doctrine (for life consisteth not innovelties nor subtleties), but contrariwise theyhave compounded sciences chiefly of a certainresplendent or lustrous mass of matter, chosento give glory either to the subtlety of disputa-tious, or to the eloquence of discourses. ButSeneca giveth an excellent check to eloquence,Nocet illis eloquentia, quibus non rerum cupidi-tatem facit, sed sui. Doctrine should be such asshould make men in love with the lesson, andnot with the teacher; being directed to the audi-tor’s benefit, and not to the author’s commen-dation. And therefore those are of the rightkind which may be concluded as Demosthenesconcludes his counsel, Quæ si feceritis, non ora-torem dumtaxat in præsentia laudabitis, sed vos-metipsos etiam non ita multo post statu rerum vest-raram meliore.

(3) Neither needed men of so excellent parts tohave despaired of a fortune, which the poetVirgil promised himself, and indeed obtained,who got as much glory of eloquence, wit, andlearning in the expressing of the observationsof husbandry, as of the heroical acts of Æneas:

“Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vinceremagnumQuam sit, et angustis his addere rebus hon-orem.”

And surely, if the purpose be in good earnest,not to write at leisure that which men may readat leisure, but really to instruct and suborn ac-tion and active life, these Georgics of the mind,concerning the husbandry and tillage thereof,are no less worthy than the heroical descrip-tions of virtue, duty, and felicity. Wherefore

the main and primitive division of moral know-ledge seemeth to be into the exemplar or plat-form of good, and the regiment or culture ofthe mind: the one describing the nature ofgood, the other prescribing rules how to sub-due, apply, and accommodate the will of manthereunto.

(4) The doctrine touching the platform or na-ture of good considereth it either simple orcompared; either the kinds of good, or the de-grees of good; in the latter whereof those infi-nite disputatious which were touching the su-preme degree thereof, which they term felicity,beatitude, or the highest good, the doctrinesconcerning which were as the heathen divinity,are by the Christian faith discharged. And asAristotle saith, “That young men may behappy, but not otherwise but by hope;” so wemust all acknowledge our minority, and em-brace the felicity which is by hope of the futureworld.

(5) Freed therefore and delivered from this doc-trine of the philosopher’s heaven, whereby theyfeigned a higher elevation of man’s nature thanwas (for we see in what height of style Senecawriteth, Vere magnum, habere fragilitatem homi-nis, securitatem Dei), we may with more sobrietyand truth receive the rest of their inquiries andlabours. Wherein for the nature of good posi-tive or simple, they have set it down excellentlyin describing the forms of virtue and duty, withtheir situations and postures; in distributingthem into their kinds, parts, provinces, actions,and administrations, and the like: nay further,they have commended them to man’s natureand spirit with great quickness of argumentand beauty of persuasions; yea, and fortifiedand entrenched them (as much as discourse cando) against corrupt and popular opinions.Again, for the degrees and comparative natureof good, they have also excellently handled it intheir triplicity of good, in the comparisons be-

tween a contemplative and an active life, in thedistinction between virtue with reluctation andvirtue secured, in their encounters betweenhonesty and profit, in their balancing of virtuewith virtue, and the like; so as this part de-serveth to be reported for excellently laboured.

(6) Notwithstanding, if before they had come tothe popular and received notions of virtue andvice, pleasure and pain, and the rest, they hadstayed a little longer upon the inquiry concern-ing the roots of good and evil, and the stringsof those roots, they had given, in my opinion, agreat light to that which followed; and speciallyif they had consulted with nature, they hadmade their doctrines less prolix and more pro-found: which being by them in part omittedand in part handled with much confusion, wewill endeavour to resume and open in a moreclear manner.

(7) There is formed in everything a double na-

ture of good - the one, as everything is a total orsubstantive in itself; the other, as it is a part ormember of a greater body; whereof the latter isin degree the greater and the worthier, becauseit tendeth to the conservation of a more generalform. Therefore we see the iron in particularsympathy moveth to the loadstone; but yet if itexceed a certain quantity, it forsaketh the affec-tion to the loadstone, and like a good patriotmoveth to the earth, which is the region andcountry of massy bodies; so may we go for-ward, and see that water and massy bodiesmove to the centre of the earth; but rather thanto suffer a divulsion in the continuance of na-ture, they will move upwards from the centreof the earth, forsaking their duty to the earth inregard of their duty to the world. This doublenature of good, and the comparative thereof, ismuch more engraven upon man, if he degener-ate not, unto whom the conservation of duty tothe public ought to be much more preciousthan the conservation of life and being; accord-

ing to that memorable speech of PompeiusMagnus, when being in commission of purvey-ance for a famine at Rome, and being dis-suaded with great vehemency and instance byhis friends about him, that he should not haz-ard himself to sea in an extremity of weather,he said only to them, Necesse est ut eam, non utvivam. But it may be truly affirmed that therewas never any philosophy, religion, or otherdiscipline, which did so plainly and highly ex-alt the good which is communicative, and de-press the good which is private and particular,as the Holy Faith; well declaring that it was thesame God that gave the Christian law to men,who gave those laws of nature to inanimatecreatures that we spake of before; for we readthat the elected saints of God have wishedthemselves anathematised and razed out of thebook of life, in an ecstasy of charity and infinitefeeling of communion.

(8) This being set down and strongly planted,

doth judge and determine most of the contro-versies wherein moral philosophy is conver-sant. For first, it decideth the question touchingthe preferment of the contemplative or activelife, and decideth it against Aristotle. For allthe reasons which he bringeth for the contem-plative are private, and respecting the pleasureand dignity of a man’s self (in which respectsno question the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence), not much unlike to that comparisonwhich Pythagoras made for the gracing andmagnifying of philosophy and contemplation,who being asked what he was, answered, “Thatif Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, heknew the manner, that some came to try theirfortune for the prizes, and some came as mer-chants to utter their commodities, and somecame to make good cheer and meet theirfriends, and some came to look on; and that hewas one of them that came to look on.” Butmen must know, that in this theatre of man’slife it is reserved only for God and angels to be

lookers on. Neither could the like questionever have been received in the Church, not-withstanding their Pretiosa in oculis Domini morssanctorum ejus, by which place they would exalttheir civil death and regular professions, butupon this defence, that the monastical life is notsimple contemplative, but performeth the dutyeither of incessant prayers and supplications,which hath been truly esteemed as an office inthe Church, or else of writing or taking instruc-tions for writing concerning the law of God, asMoses did when he abode so long in themount. And so we see Enoch, the seventh fromAdam, who was the first contemplative andwalked with God, yet did also endow theChurch with prophecy, which Saint Jude ci-teth. But for contemplation which should befinished in itself, without casting beams uponsociety, assuredly divinity knoweth it not.

(9) It decideth also the controversies betweenZeno and Socrates, and their schools and suc-

cessions, on the one side, who placed felicity invirtue simply or attended, the actions and exer-cises whereof do chiefly embrace and concernsociety; and on the other side, the Cyrenaicsand Epicureans, who placed it in pleasure, andmade virtue (as it is used in some comedies oferrors, wherein the mistress and the maidchange habits) to be but as a servant, withoutwhich pleasure cannot be served and attended;and the reformed school of the Epicureans,which placed it in serenity of mind and free-dom from perturbation; as if they would havedeposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn andthe first age, when there was no summer norwinter, spring nor autumn, but all after one airand season; and Herillus, which placed felicityin extinguishment of the disputes of the mind,making no fixed nature of good and evil, es-teeming things according to the clearness of thedesires, or the reluctation; which opinion wasrevived in the heresy of the Anabaptists, meas-uring things according to the motions of the

spirit, and the constancy or wavering of belief;all which are manifest to tend to private reposeand contentment, and not to point of society.

(10) It censureth also the philosophy of Epic-tetus, which presupposeth that felicity must beplaced in those things which are in our power,lest we be liable to fortune and disturbance; asif it were not a thing much more happy to failin good and virtuous ends for the public, thanto obtain all that we can wish to ourselves inour proper fortune: as Consalvo said to his sol-diers, showing them Naples, and protesting hehad rather die one foot forwards, than to havehis life secured for long by one foot of retreat.Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly leaderhath signed, who hath affirmed that “a goodconscience is a continual feast;” showing plain-ly that the conscience of good intentions, how-soever succeeding, is a more continual joy tonature than all the provision which can be ma-de for security and repose.

(11) It censureth likewise that abuse of philoso-phy which grew general about the time of Epic-tetus, in converting it into an occupation orprofession; as if the purpose had been, not toresist and extinguish perturbations, but to flyand avoid the causes of them, and to shape aparticular kind and course of life to that end;introducing such a health of mind, as was thathealth of body of which Aristotle speaketh ofHerodicus, who did nothing all his life long butintend his health; whereas if men refer them-selves to duties of society, as that health of bo-dy is best which is ablest to endure all altera-tions and extremities, so likewise that health ofmind is most proper which can go through thegreatest temptations and perturbations. So asDiogenes’ opinion is to be accepted, who com-mended not them which abstained, but themwhich sustained, and could refrain their mindin præcipitio, and could give unto the mind (asis used in horsemanship) the shortest stop or

turn.

(12) Lastly, it censureth the tenderness andwant of application in some of the most ancientand reverend philosophers and philosophicalmen, that did retire too easily from civil busi-ness, for avoiding of indignities and perturba-tions; whereas the resolution of men truly mo-ral ought to be such as the same Consalvo saidthe honour of a soldier should be, e telâ cras-siore, and not so fine as that everything shouldcatch in it and endanger it.

XXI. (1) To resume private or particular good, itfalleth into the division of good active and pas-sive; for this difference of good (not unlike tothat which amongst the Romans was expressedin the familiar or household terms of promusand condus) is formed also in all things, and isbest disclosed in the two several appetites increatures; the one to preserve or continuethemselves, and the other to dilate or multiply

themselves, whereof the latter seemeth to bethe worthier; for in nature the heavens, whichare the more worthy, are the agent, and theearth, which is the less worthy, is the patient.In the pleasures of living creatures, that of gen-eration is greater than that of food. In divinedoctrine, beatius est dare quam accipere. And inlife, there is no man’s spirit so soft, but estee-meth the effecting of somewhat that he hathfixed in his desire, more than sensuality, whichpriority of the active good is much upheld bythe consideration of our estate to be mortal andexposed to fortune. For if we might have aperpetuity and certainty in our pleasures, thestate of them would advance their price. Butwhen we see it is but magni æstimamus moritardius, and ne glorieris de crastino, nescis partumdiei, it maketh us to desire to have somewhatsecured and exempted from time, which areonly our deeds and works; as it is said, Operaeorum sequuntur eos. The pre-eminence likewiseof this active good is upheld by the affection

which is natural in man towards variety andproceeding, which in the pleasures of the sense,which is the principal part of passive good, canhave no great latitude. Cogita quamdiu eademfeceris; cibus, somnus, ludus per hunc circulumcurritur; mori velle non tantum fortis, aut miser,aut prudens, sed etiam fastidiosus potest. But inenterprises, pursuits, and purposes of life, thereis much variety; whereof men are sensible withpleasure in their inceptions, progressions, re-coils, reintegrations, approaches and attainingsto their ends. So as it was well said, Vita sineproposito languida et vaga est. Neither hath thisactive good an identity with the good of soci-ety, though in some cases it hath an incidenceinto it. For although it do many times bringforth acts of beneficence, yet it is with a respectprivate to a man’s own power, glory, amplifica-tion, continuance; as appeareth plainly, when itfindeth a contrary subject. For that gigantinestate of mind which possesseth the troublers ofthe world, such as was Lucius Sylla and infinite

other in smaller model, who would have allmen happy or unhappy as they were theirfriends or enemies, and would give form to theworld, according to their own humours (whichis the true theomachy), pretendeth and aspirethto active good, though it recedeth furthest fromgood of society, which we have determined tobe the greater.

(2) To resume passive good, it receiveth a sub-division of conservative and effective. For letus take a brief review of that which we havesaid: we have spoken first of the good of soci-ety, the intention whereof embraceth the formof human nature, whereof we are members andportions, and not our own proper and individ-ual form; we have spoken of active good, andsupposed it as a part of private and particulargood. And rightly, for there is impressed uponall things a triple desire or appetite proceedingfrom love to themselves: one of preserving andcontinuing their form; another of advancing

and perfecting their form; and a third of multi-plying and extending their form upon otherthings: whereof the multiplying, or signature ofit upon other things, is that which we handledby the name of active good. So as there re-maineth the conserving of it, and perfecting orraising of it, which latter is the highest degreeof passive good. For to preserve in state is theless, to preserve with advancement is the grea-ter. So in man,

“Igneus est ollis vigor, et cælestis origo.”

His approach or assumption to divine or an-gelical nature is the perfection of his form; theerror or false imitation of which good is thatwhich is the tempest of human life; while man,upon the instinct of an advancement, formaland essential, is carried to seek an advancementlocal. For as those which are sick, and find no

remedy, do tumble up and down and changeplace, as if by a remove local they could obtaina remove internal, so is it with men in ambition,when failing of the mean to exalt their nature,they are in a perpetual estuation to exalt theirplace. So then passive good is, as was said,either conservative or perfective.

(3) To resume the good of conservation or com-fort, which consisteth in the fruition of thatwhich is agreeable to our natures; it seemeth tobe most pure and natural of pleasures, but yetthe softest and lowest. And this also receivetha difference, which hath neither been well jud-ged of, nor well inquired; for the good of frui-tion or contentment is placed either in the sin-cereness of the fruition, or in the quickness andvigour of it; the one superinduced by equality,the other by vicissitude; the one having lessmixture of evil, the other more impression ofgood. Whether of these is the greater good is aquestion controverted; but whether man’s na-

ture may not be capable of both is a questionnot inquired.

(4) The former question being debated betweenSocrates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicityin an equal and constant peace of mind, and thesophist in much desiring and much enjoying,they fell from argument to ill words: the soph-ist saying that Socrates’ felicity was the felicityof a block or stone; and Socrates saying that thesophist’s felicity was the felicity of one that hadthe itch, who did nothing but itch and scratch.And both these opinions do not want theirsupports. For the opinion of Socrates is muchupheld by the general consent even of the epi-cures themselves, that virtue beareth a greatpart in felicity; and if so, certain it is, that virtuehath more use in clearing perturbations then incompassing desires. The sophist’s opinion ismuch favoured by the assertion we last spakeof, that good of advancement is greater thangood of simple preservation; because every

obtaining a desire hath a show of advancement,as motion though in a circle hath a show ofprogression.

(5) But the second question, decided the trueway, maketh the former superfluous. For can itbe doubted, but that there are some who takemore pleasure in enjoying pleasures than someother, and yet, nevertheless, are less troubledwith the loss or leaving of them? So as thissame, Non uti ut non appetas, non appetere ut nonmetuas, sunt animi pusilli et diffidentis. And itseemeth to me that most of the doctrines of thephilosophers are more fearful and cautiousthan the nature of things requireth. So havethey increased the fear of death in offering tocure it. For when they would have a man’swhole life to be but a discipline or preparationto die, they must needs make men think that itis a terrible enemy, against whom there is noend of preparing. Better saith the poet:-

“Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponatNaturæ.”

So have they sought to make men’s minds toouniform and harmonical, by not breaking themsufficiently to contrary motions; the reasonswhereof I suppose to be, because they them-selves were men dedicated to a private, free,and unapplied course of life. For as we see,upon the lute or like instrument, a ground,though it be sweet and have show of manychanges, yet breaketh not the hand to suchstrange and hard stops and passages, as a setsong or voluntary; much after the same mannerwas the diversity between a philosophical andcivil life. And, therefore, men are to imitate thewisdom of jewellers: who, if there be a grain, ora cloud, or an ice which may be ground forthwithout taking too much of the stone, they helpit; but if it should lessen and abate the stone too

much, they will not meddle with it: so oughtmen so to procure serenity as they destroy notmagnanimity.

(6) Having therefore deduced the good of manwhich is private and particular, as far as see-meth fit, we will now return to that good ofman which respecteth and beholdeth society,which we may term duty; because the term ofduty is more proper to a mind well framed anddisposed towards others, as the term of virtueis applied to a mind well formed and com-posed in itself; though neither can a man un-derstand virtue without some relation to soci-ety, nor duty without an inward disposition.This part may seem at first to pertain to sciencecivil and politic; but not if it be well observed.For it concerneth the regiment and governmentof every man over himself, and not over oth-ers. And as in architecture the direction offraming the posts, beams, and other parts ofbuilding, is not the same with the manner of

joining them and erecting the building; and inmechanicals, the direction how to frame aninstrument or engine is not the same with themanner of setting it on work and employing it;and yet, nevertheless, in expressing of the oneyou incidently express the aptness towards theother; so the doctrine of conjugation of men insociety differeth from that of their conformitythereunto.

(7) This part of duty is subdivided into twoparts: the common duty of every man, as a manor member of a state; the other, the respectiveor special duty of every man in his profession,vocation, and place. The first of these is extantand well laboured, as hath been said. The sec-ond likewise I may report rather dispersed thandeficient; which manner of dispersed writing inthis kind of argument I acknowledge to bebest. For who can take upon him to write of theproper duty, virtue, challenge, and right ofevery several vocation, profession, and place?

For although sometimes a looker on may seemore than a gamester, and there be a proverbmore arrogant than sound, “That the vale bestdiscovereth the hill;” yet there is small doubtbut that men can write best and most really andmaterially in their own professions; and thatthe writing of speculative men of active matterfor the most part doth seem to men of experi-ence, as Phormio’s argument of the wars see-med to Hannibal, to be but dreams and dotage.Only there is one vice which accompanieththem that write in their own professions, thatthey magnify them in excess. But generally itwere to be wished (as that which would makelearning indeed solid and fruitful) that activemen would or could become writers.

(8) In which kind I cannot but mention, honoriscausa, your Majesty’s excellent book touchingthe duty of a king; a work richly compoundedof divinity, morality, and policy, with greataspersion of all other arts; and being in some

opinion one of the most sound and healthfulwritings that I have read: not distempered inthe heat of invention, nor in the coldness ofnegligence; not sick of dizziness, as those arewho leese themselves in their order, nor ofconvulsions, as those which cramp in mattersimpertinent; not savouring of perfumes andpaintings, as those do who seek to please thereader more than nature beareth; and chieflywell disposed in the spirits thereof, beingagreeable to truth and apt for action; and farremoved from that natural infirmity, where-unto I noted those that write in their own pro-fessions to be subject - which is, that they exaltit above measure. For your Majesty hath trulydescribed, not a king of Assyria or Persia intheir extern glory, but a Moses or a David, pas-tors of their people. Neither can I ever leese outof my remembrance what I heard your Majestyin the same sacred spirit of government deliverin a great cause of judicature, which was, “Thatkings ruled by their laws, as God did by the

laws of nature; and ought as rarely to put inuse their supreme prerogative as God doth Hispower of working miracles.” And yet notwith-standing in your book of a free monarchy, youdo well give men to understand, that you knowthe plenitude of the power and right of a king,as well as the circle of his office and duty. Thushave I presumed to allege this excellent writingof your Majesty, as a prime or eminent exampleof tractates concerning special and respectiveduties; wherein I should have said as much, if ithad been written a thousand years since. Nei-ther am I moved with certain courtly decencies,which esteem it flattery to praise in presence.No, it is flattery to praise in absence - that is,when either the virtue is absent, or the occasionis absent; and so the praise is not natural, butforced, either in truth or in time. But let Cicerobe read in his oration pro Marcello, which isnothing but an excellent table of Cæsar’s virtue,and made to his face; besides the example ofmany other excellent persons, wiser a great

deal than such observers; and we will neverdoubt, upon a full occasion, to give just praisesto present or absent.

(9) But to return; there belongeth further to thehandling of this part, touching the duties ofprofessions and vocations, a relative or oppo-site, touching the frauds, cautels, impostures,and vices of every profession, which hath beenlikewise handled; but how? rather in a satireand cynically, than seriously and wisely; formen have rather sought by wit to deride andtraduce much of that which is good in profes-sions, than with judgment to discover and se-ver that which is corrupt. For, as Solomonsaith, he that cometh to seek after knowledgewith a mind to scorn and censure shall be sureto find matter for his humour, but no matter forhis instruction: Quærenti derisori scientiam ipsa seabscondit; sed studioso fit obviam. But the manag-ing of this argument with integrity and truth,which I note as deficient, seemeth to me to be

one of the best fortifications for honesty andvirtue that can be planted. For, as the fablegoeth of the basilisk - that if he see you first,you die for it; but if you see him first, he dieth -so is it with deceits and evil arts, which, if theybe first espied they leese their life; but if theyprevent, they endanger. So that we are muchbeholden to Machiavel and others, that writewhat men do, and not what they ought to do.For it is not possible to join serpentine wisdomwith the columbine innocency, except menknow exactly all the conditions of the serpent;his baseness and going upon his belly, his vo-lubility and lubricity, his envy and sting, andthe rest - that is, all forms and natures of evil.For without this, virtue lieth open and un-fenced. Nay, an honest man can do no goodupon those that are wicked, to reclaim them,without the help of the knowledge of evil. Formen of corrupted minds presuppose that hon-esty groweth out of simplicity of manners, andbelieving of preachers, schoolmasters, and

men’s exterior language. So as, except you canmake them perceive that you know the utmostreaches of their own corrupt opinions, theydespise all morality. Non recipit stultus verbaprudentiæ, nisi ea dixeris quæ, versantur in cordeejus.

(10) Unto this part, touching respective duty,doth also appertain the duties between hus-band and wife, parent and child, master andservant. So likewise the laws of friendship andgratitude, the civil bond of companies, colleges,and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and allother proportionate duties; not as they are partsof government and society, but as to the fram-ing of the mind of particular persons.

(11) The knowledge concerning good respect-ing society doth handle it also, not simply alo-ne, but comparatively; whereunto belongeththe weighing of duties between person andperson, case and case, particular and public.

As we see in the proceeding of Lucius Brutusagainst his own sons, which was so much ex-tolled, yet what was said?

“Infelix, utcunque ferent ea fata minores.”

So the case was doubtful, and had opinion onboth sides. Again, we see when M. Brutus andCassius invited to a supper certain whose opin-ions they meant to feel, whether they were fit tobe made their associates, and cast forth thequestion touching the killing of a tyrant being ausurper, they were divided in opinion; someholding that servitude was the extreme of evils,and others that tyranny was better than a civilwar: and a number of the like cases there are ofcomparative duty. Amongst which that of allothers is the most frequent, where the questionis of a great deal of good to ensue of a smallinjustice. Which Jason of Thessalia determined

against the truth: Aliqua sunt injuste facienda, utmulta juste fieri possint. But the reply is good:Auctorem præsentis justitiæ habes, sponsorem fu-turæ non habes. Men must pursue things whichare just in present, and leave the future to theDivine Providence. So then we pass on fromthis general part touching the exemplar anddescription of good.

XXII. (1) Now, therefore, that we have spokenof this fruit of life, it remaineth to speak of thehusbandry that belongeth thereunto, withoutwhich part the former seemeth to be no betterthan a fair image or statue, which is beautiful tocontemplate, but is without life and motion;whereunto Aristotle himself subscribeth in the-se words: Necesse est scilicet de virtute dicere, etquid sit, et ex quibus gignatur. Inutile enum ferefuerit virtutem quidem nosse, acquirendæ autemejus modos et vias ignorare. Non enum de virtutetantum, qua specie sit, quærendum est, sed et quo-modo sui copiam faciat: utrumque enum volumeus,

et rem ipsam nosse, et ejus compotes fieri: hoc autemex voto non succedet, nisi sciamus et ex quibus etquomodo. In such full words and with such it-eration doth he inculcate this part. So saithCicero in great commendation of Cato the sec-ond, that he had applied himself to philosophy,Non ita disputandi causa, sed ita vivendi. Andalthough the neglect of our times, wherein fewmen do hold any consultations touching thereformation of their life (as Seneca excellentlysaith, De partibus vitæ quisque deliberat, de summanemo), may make this part seem superfluous;yet I must conclude with that aphorism of Hip-pocrates, Qui gravi morbo correpti dolores nonsentiunt, iis mens ægrotat. They need medicine,not only to assuage the disease, but to awakethe sense. And if it be said that the cure ofmen’s minds belongeth to sacred divinity, it ismost true; but yet moral philosophy may bepreferred unto her as a wise servant and hum-ble handmaid. For as the Psalm saith, “That theeyes of the handmaid look perpetually towards

the mistress,” and yet no doubt many thingsare left to the discretion of the handmaid todiscern of the mistress’ will; so ought moralphilosophy to give a constant attention to thedoctrines of divinity, and yet so as it may yieldof herself (within due limits) many sound andprofitable directions.

(2) This part, therefore, because of the excel-lency thereof, I cannot but find exceedingstrange that it is not reduced to written inquiry;the rather, because it consisteth of much matter,wherein both speech and action is often con-versant; and such wherein the common talk ofmen (which is rare, but yet cometh sometimesto pass) is wiser than their books. It is reason-able, therefore, that we propound it in the moreparticularity, both for the worthiness, and be-cause we may acquit ourselves for reporting itdeficient, which seemeth almost incredible, andis otherwise conceived and presupposed bythose themselves that have written. We will,

therefore, enumerate some heads or points the-reof, that it may appear the better what it is,and whether it be extant.

(3) First, therefore, in this, as in all things whichare practical we ought to cast up our account,what is in our power, and what not; for the onemay be dealt with by way of alteration, but theother by way of application only. The hus-bandman cannot command neither the natureof the earth nor the seasons of the weather; nomore can the physician the constitution of thepatient nor the variety of accidents. So in theculture and cure of the mind of man, twothings are without our command: points ofNature, and points of fortune. For to the basisof the one, and the conditions of the other, ourwork is limited and tied. In these things, there-fore, it is left unto us to proceed by application

“Vincenda est omnis fertuna ferendo:”

and so likewise,

“Vincenda est omnis Natura ferendo.”

But when that we speak of suffering, we do notspeak of a dull and neglected suffering, but of awise and industrious suffering, which drawethand contriveth use and advantage out of thatwhich seemeth adverse and contrary; which isthat properly which we call accommodating orapplying. Now the wisdom of application res-teth principally in the exact and distinct knowl-edge of the precedent state or disposition, untowhich we do apply; for we cannot fit a garmentexcept we first take measure of the body.

(4) So, then, the first article of this knowledge isto set down sound and true distributions and

descriptions of the several characters and tem-pers of men’s natures and dispositions, spe-cially having regard to those differences whichare most radical in being the fountains andcauses of the rest, or most frequent in concur-rence or commixture; wherein it is not the han-dling of a few of them in passage, the better todescribe the mediocrities of virtues, that cansatisfy this intention. For if it deserve to beconsidered, that there are minds which areproportioned to great matters, and others tosmall (which Aristotle handleth, or ought tohave bandied, by the name of magnanimity),doth it not deserve as well to be considered thatthere are minds proportioned to intend manymatters, and others to few? So that some candivide themselves: others can perchance doexactly well, but it must be but in few things atonce; and so there cometh to be a narrowness ofmind, as well as a pusillanimity. And again,that some minds are proportioned to thatwhich may be dispatched at once, or within a

short return of time; others to that which beginsafar off, and is to be won with length of pur-suit:-

“Jam tum tenditqus fovetque.”

So that there may be fitly said to be a longanim-ity, which is commonly also ascribed to God asa magnanimity. So further deserved it to beconsidered by Aristotle, “That there is a dispo-sition in conversation (supposing it in thingswhich do in no sort touch or concern a man’sself) to soothe and please, and a dispositioncontrary to contradict and cross;” and de-serveth it not much better to be considered.“That there is a disposition, not in conversationor talk, but in matter of more serious nature(and supposing it still in things merely indiffer-ent), to take pleasure in the good of another;and a disposition contrariwise, to take distaste

at the good of another?” which is that properlywhich we call good nature or ill nature, benig-nity or malignity; and, therefore, I cannot suffi-ciently marvel that this part of knowledge,touching the several characters of natures anddispositions, should be omitted both in moral-ity and policy, considering it is of so great min-istry and suppeditation to them both. A manshall find in the traditions of astrology somepretty and apt divisions of men’s natures, ac-cording to the predominances of the planets:lovers of quiet, lovers of action, lovers of vic-tory, lovers of honour, lovers of pleasure, lov-ers of arts, lovers of change, and so forth. Aman shall find in the wisest sort of these rela-tions which the Italians make touching con-claves, the natures of the several cardinalshandsomely and lively painted forth. A manshall meet with in every day’s conference thedenominations of sensitive, dry, formal, real,humorous, certain, huomo di prima impressione,huomo di ultima impressione, and the like; and

yet, nevertheless, this kind of observationswandereth in words, but is not fixed in in-quiry. For the distinctions are found (many ofthem), but we conclude no precepts upon them:wherein our fault is the greater, because bothhistory, poesy, and daily experience are asgoodly fields where these observations grow;whereof we make a few posies to hold in ourhands, but no man bringeth them to the confec-tionary that receipts might be made of them foruse of life.

(5) Of much like kind are those impressions ofNature, which are imposed upon the mind bythe sex, by the age, by the region, by health andsickness, by beauty and deformity, and the like,which are inherent and not extern; and again,those which are caused by extern fortune, assovereignty, nobility, obscure birth, riches,want, magistracy, privateness, prosperity, ad-versity, constant fortune, variable fortune, ris-ing per saltum, per gradus, and the like. And,

therefore, we see that Plautus maketh it a won-der to see an old man beneficent, benignitas hu-jis ut adolescentuli est. Saint Paul concludeththat severity of discipline was to be used to theCretans, increpa eos dure, upon the dispositionof their country, Cretensus semper mendaces,malæ bestiæ, ventres. Sallust noteth that it isusual with kings to desire contradictories: Sedplerumque regiæ voluntates, ut vehementes sunt, sicmobiles, sæpeque ipsæ sibi advers. Tacitus ob-serveth how rarely raising of the fortune men-deth the disposition: solus Vespasianus mutatusin melius. Pindarus maketh an observation, thatgreat and sudden fortune for the most part de-feateth men qui magnam felicitatem concoquerenon possunt. So the Psalm showeth it is moreeasy to keep a measure in the enjoying of for-tune, than in the increase of fortune; Divitiæ siaffluant, nolite cor apponere. These observationsand the like I deny not but are touched a littleby Aristotle as in passage in his Rhetorics, andare handled in some scattered discourses; but

they were never incorporate into moral phi-losophy, to which they do essentially appertain;as the knowledge of this diversity of groundsand moulds doth to agriculture, and the know-ledge of the diversity of complexions and con-stitutions doth to the physician, except wemean to follow the indiscretion of empirics,which minister the same medicines to all pa-tients.

(6) Another article of this knowledge is the in-quiry touching the affections; for as in medicin-ing of the body, it is in order first to know thedivers complexions and constitutions; sec-ondly, the diseases; and lastly, the cures: so inmedicining of the mind, after knowledge of thedivers characters of men’s natures, it followethin order to know the diseases and infirmities ofthe mind, which are no other than the perturba-tions and distempars of the affections. For asthe ancient politiques in popular estates werewont to compare the people to the sea, and the

orators to the winds; because as the sea wouldof itself be calm and quiet, if the winds did notmove and trouble it; so the people would bepeaceable and tractable if the seditious oratorsdid not set them in working and agitation: so itmay be fitly said, that the mind in the naturethereof would be temperate and stayed, if theaffections, as winds, did not put it into tumultand perturbation. And here again I find stran-ge, as before, that Aristotle should have writtendivers volumes of Ethics, and never handledthe affections which is the principal subjectthereof; and yet in his Rhetorics, where they areconsidered but collaterally and in a second de-gree (as they may be moved by speech), he fin-deth place for them, and handleth them wellfor the quantity; but where their true place is hepretermitteth them. For it is not his disputa-tions about pleasure and pain that can satisfythis inquiry, no more than he that should gen-erally handle the nature of light can be said tohandle the nature of colours; for pleasure and

pain are to the particular affections as light is toparticular colours. Better travails, I suppose,had the Stoics taken in this argument, as far as Ican gather by that which we have at secondhand. But yet it is like it was after their man-ner, rather in subtlety of definitions (which in asubject of this nature are but curiosities), thanin active and ample descriptions and observa-tions. So likewise I find some particular writ-ings of an elegant nature, touching some of theaffections: as of anger, of comfort upon adverseaccidents, of tenderness of countenance, andother. But the poets and writers of histories arethe best doctors of this knowledge; where wemay find painted forth, with great life, howaffections are kindled and incited; and howpacified and refrained; and how again con-tained from act and further degree; how theydisclose themselves; how they work; how theyvary; how they gather and fortify: how they areenwrapped one within another; and how theydo fight and encounter one with another; and

other the like particularities. Amongst thewhich this last is of special use in moral andcivil matters; how, I say, to set affection againstaffection, and to master one by another; even aswe used to hunt beast with beast, and fly birdwith bird, which otherwise percase we couldnot so easily recover: upon which foundation iserected that excellent use of præmium and pæna,whereby civil states consist: employing thepredominant affections of fear and hope, forthe suppressing and bridling the rest. For as inthe government of states it is sometimes neces-sary to bridle one faction with another, so it isin the government within.

(7) Now come we to those points which arewithin our own command, and have force andoperation upon the mind, to affect the will andappetite, and to alter manners: wherein theyought to have handled custom, exercise, habit,education, example, imitation, emulation, com-pany, friends, praise, reproof, exhortation, fa-

me, laws, books, studies: these as they havedeterminate use in moralities, from these themind suffereth, and of these are such receiptsand regiments compounded and described, asmay serve to recover or preserve the health andgood estate of the mind, as far as pertaineth tohuman medicine: of which number we willinsist upon some one or two, as an example ofthe rest, because it were too long to prosecuteall; and therefore we do resume custom andhabit to speak of.

(8) The opinion of Aristotle seemeth to me anegligent opinion, that of those things whichconsist by Nature, nothing can be changed bycustom; using for example, that if a stone bethrown ten thousand times up it will not learnto ascend; and that by often seeing or hearingwe do not learn to see or hear the better. Forthough this principle be true in things whereinNature is peremptory (the reason whereof wecannot now stand to discuss), yet it is otherwise

in things wherein Nature admitteth a latitude.For he might see that a strait glove will comemore easily on with use; and that a wand willby use bend otherwise than it grew; and that byuse of the voice we speak louder and stronger;and that by use of enduring heat or cold weendure it the better, and the like: which lattersort have a nearer resemblance unto that sub-ject of manners he handleth, than those in-stances which he allegeth. But allowing hisconclusion, that virtues and vices consist inhabit, he ought so much the more to havetaught the manner of superinducing that habit:for there be many precepts of the wise orderingthe exercises of the mind, as there is of orderingthe exercises of the body, whereof we will recitea few.

(9) The first shall be, that we beware we takenot at the first either too high a strain or tooweak: for if too high, in a diffident nature youdiscourage, in a confident nature you breed an

opinion of facility, and so a sloth; and in allnatures you breed a further expectation thancan hold out, and so an insatisfaction in theend: if too weak, of the other side, you may notlook to perform and overcome any great task.

(10) Another precept is to practise all thingschiefly at two several times, the one when themind is best disposed, the other when it isworst disposed; that by the one you may gain agreat step, by the other you may work out theknots and stonds of the mind, and make themiddle times the more easy and pleasant.

(11) Another precept is that which Aristotlementioneth by the way, which is to bear evertowards the contrary extreme of that where-unto we are by nature inclined; like unto therowing against the stream, or making a wandstraight by bending him contrary to his naturalcrookedness.

(12) Another precept is that the mind is broughtto anything better, and with more sweetnessand happiness, if that whereunto you pretendbe not first in the intention, but tanquam aliudagendo, because of the natural hatred of themind against necessity and constraint. Manyother axioms there are touching the managingof exercise and custom, which being so con-ducted doth prove indeed another nature; but,being governed by chance, doth commonlyprove but an ape of Nature, and bringeth forththat which is lame and counterfeit.

(13) So if we should handle books and studies,and what influence and operation they haveupon manners, are there not divers precepts ofgreat caution and direction appertaining there-unto? Did not one of the fathers in great indig-nation call poesy vinum dæmonum, because itincreaseth temptations, perturbations, and vainopinions? Is not the opinion of Aristotle wor-thy to be regarded, wherein he saith, “That

young men are no fit auditors of moral phi-losophy, because they are not settled from theboiling heat of their affections, nor attemperedwith time and experience”? And doth it nothereof come, that those excellent books anddiscourses of the ancient writers (whereby theyhave persuaded unto virtue most effectually,by representing her in state and majesty, andpopular opinions against virtue in their para-sites’ coats fit to be scorned and derided), are ofso little effect towards honesty of life, becausethey are not read and revolved by men in theirmature and settled years, but confined almostto boys and beginners? But is it not true also,that much less young men are fit auditors ofmatters of policy, till they have been thor-oughly seasoned in religion and morality; lesttheir judgments be corrupted, and made apt tothink that there are no true differences ofthings, but according to utility and fortune, asthe verse describes it, Prosperum et felix scelusvirtus vocatur; and again, Ille crucem pretium

sceleris tulit, hic diadema: which the poets dospeak satirically and in indignation on virtue’sbehalf; but books of policy do speak it seriouslyand positively; for so it pleaseth Machiavel tosay, “That if Cæsar had been overthrown, hewould have been more odious than ever wasCatiline;” as if there had been no difference, butin fortune, between a very fury of lust andblood, and the most excellent spirit (his ambi-tion reserved) of the world? Again, is there nota caution likewise to be given of the doctrinesof moralities themselves (some kinds of them),lest they make men too precise, arrogant, in-compatible; as Cicero saith of Cato, In MarcoCatone hæc bona quæ videmus divina et egregia,ipsius scitote esse propria; quæ nonunquam re-quirimus ea sunt omnia non a natura, sed a magis-tro? Many other axioms and advices there aretouching those proprieties and effects, whichstudies do infuse and instil into manners. Andso, likewise, is there touching the use of allthose other points, of company, fame, laws, and

the rest, which we recited in the beginning inthe doctrine of morality.

(14) But there is a kind of culture of the mindthat seemeth yet more accurate and elaboratethan the rest, and is built upon this ground;that the minds of all men are at some times in astate more perfect, and at other times in a statemore depraved. The purpose, therefore, of thispractice is to fix and cherish the good hours ofthe mind, and to obliterate and take forth theevil. The fixing of the good hath been practisedby two means, vows or constant resolutions,and observances or exercises; which are not tobe regarded so much in themselves, as becausethey keep the mind in continual obedience.The obliteration of the evil hath been practisedby two means, some kind of redemption orexpiation of that which is past, and an incep-tion or account de novo for the time to come.But this part seemeth sacred and religious, andjustly; for all good moral philosophy (as was

said) is but a handmaid to religion.

(15) Wherefore we will conclude with that lastpoint, which is of all other means the mostcompendious and summary, and again, themost noble and effectual to the reducing of themind unto virtue and good estate; which is, theelecting and propounding unto a man’s selfgood and virtuous ends of his life, such as maybe in a reasonable sort within his compass toattain. For if these two things be supposed,that a man set before him honest and goodends, and again, that he be resolute, constant,and true unto them; it will follow that he shallmould himself into all virtue at once. And thisindeed is like the work of nature; whereas theother course is like the work of the hand. Foras when a carver makes an image, he shapesonly that part whereupon he worketh; as if hebe upon the face, that part which shall be thebody is but a rude stone still, till such times ashe comes to it. But contrariwise when nature

makes a flower or living creature, she formethrudiments of all the parts at one time. So inobtaining virtue by habit, while a man prac-tiseth temperance, he doth not profit much tofortitude, nor the like but when he dedicatethand applieth himself to good ends, look, whatvirtue soever the pursuit and passage towardsthose ends doth commend unto him, he is in-vested of a precedent disposition to conformhimself thereunto. Which state of mind Aris-totle doth excellently express himself, that itought not to be called virtuous, but divine. Hiswords are these: Immanitati autem consentaneumest opponere eam, quæ supra humanitatem est, hero-icam sive divinam virtutem; and a little after, Namut feræ neque vitium neque virtus est, swic nequeDei: sed hic quidem status altius quiddam virtuteest, ille aluid quiddam a vitio. And therefore wemay see what celsitude of honour PliniusSecundus attributeth to Trajan in his funeraloration, where he said, “That men needed tomake no other prayers to the gods, but that

they would continue as good lords to them asTrajan had been;” as if he had not been only animitation of divine nature, but a pattern of it.But these be heathen and profane passages,having but a shadow of that divine state ofmind, which religion and the holy faith dothconduct men unto, by imprinting upon theirsouls charity, which is excellently called thebond of perfection, because it comprehendethand fasteneth all virtues together. And as it iselegantly said by Menander of vain love, whichis but a false imitation of divine love, Amor me-lior Sophista lœvo ad humanam vitam - that loveteacheth a man to carry himself better than thesophist or preceptor; which he calleth left-handed, because, with all his rules and precep-tions, he cannot form a man so dexterously, norwith that facility to prize himself and governhimself, as love can do: so certainly, if a man’smind be truly inflamed with charity, it dothwork him suddenly into greater perfection thanall the doctrine of morality can do, which is but

a sophist in comparison of the other. Nay, fur-ther, as Xenophon observed truly, that all otheraffections, though they raise the mind, yet theydo it by distorting and uncomeliness of ecsta-sies or excesses; but only love doth exalt themind, and nevertheless at the same instant dothsettle and compose it: so in all other excel-lences, though they advance nature, yet theyare subject to excess. Only charity admitteth noexcess. For so we see, aspiring to be like God inpower, the angels transgressed and fell; Ascen-dam, et ero similis altissimo: by aspiring to be likeGod in knowledge, man transgressed and fell;Eritis sicut Dii, scientes bonum et malum: but byaspiring to a similitude of God in goodness orlove, neither man nor angel ever transgressed,or shall transgress. For unto that imitation weare called: Diligite inimicos vestros, benefacite eisqui oderunt vos, et orate pro persequentibus et ca-lumniantibus vos, ut sitis filii Patris vestri qui incœlis est, qui solem suum oriri facit super bonos etmalos, et pluit super justos et injustos. So in the

first platform of the divine nature itself, theheathen religion speaketh thus, Optimus Maxi-mus: and the sacred Scriptures thus, Misceri-cordia ejus super omnia opera ejus.

(16) Wherefore I do conclude this part of moralknowledge, concerning the culture and regi-ment of the mind; wherein if any man, consid-ering the arts thereof which I have enumerated,do judge that my labour is but to collect into anart or science that which hath been pretermit-ted by others, as matter of common sense andexperience, he judgeth well. But as Philocratessported with Demosthenes, “You may notmarvel (Athenians) that Demosthenes and I dodiffer; for he drinketh water, and I drink wine;”and like as we read of an ancient parable of thetwo gates of sleep -

“Sunt geminæ somni portæ: quarum altera fer-tur

Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris:Altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto,Sed falsa ad cœlum mittunt insomnia manes:”

so if we put on sobriety and attention, we shallfind it a sure maxim in knowledge, that themore pleasant liquor (“of wine”) is the morevaporous, and the braver gate (“of ivory”) sen-deth forth the falser dreams.

(17) But we have now concluded that generalpart of human philosophy, which contem-plateth man segregate, and as he consisteth ofbody and spirit. Wherein we may further note,that there seemeth to be a relation or confor-mity between the good of the mind and thegood of the body. For as we divided the goodof the body into health, beauty, strength, andpleasure, so the good of the mind, inquired inrational and moral knowledges, tendeth to this,to make the mind sound, and without pertur-

bation; beautiful, and graced with decency; andstrong and agile for all duties of life. Thesethree, as in the body, so in the mind, seldommeet, and commonly sever. For it is easy toobserve, that many have strength of wit andcourage, but have neither health from perturba-tions, nor any beauty or decency in their do-ings; some again have an elegancy and finenessof carriage which have neither soundness ofhonesty nor substance of sufficiency; and someagain have honest and reformed minds, thatcan neither become themselves nor managebusiness; and sometimes two of them meet, andrarely all three. As for pleasure, we have like-wise determined that the mind ought not to bereduced to stupid, but to retain pleasure; con-fined rather in the subject of it, than in thestrength and vigour of it.

XXIII. (1) Civil knowledge is conversant about asubject which of all others is most immersed inmatter, and hardliest reduced to axiom. Never-

theless, as Cato the Censor said, “That the Ro-mans were like sheep, for that a man were bet-ter drive a flock of them, than one of them; forin a flock, if you could get but some few goright, the rest would follow:” so in that respectmoral philosophy is more difficile than policy.Again, moral philosophy propoundeth to itselfthe framing of internal goodness; but civilknowledge requireth only an external good-ness; for that as to society sufficeth. And there-fore it cometh oft to pass that there be evil ti-mes in good governments: for so we find in theHoly story, when the kings were good, yet it isadded, Sed adhuc poulus non direxerat cor suumad Dominum Deum patrum suorum. Again, sta-tes, as great engines, move slowly, and are notso soon put out of frame: for as in Egypt theseven good years sustained the seven bad, sogovernments for a time well grounded do bearout errors following; but the resolution of par-ticular persons is more suddenly subverted.These respects do somewhat qualify the ex-

treme difficulty of civil knowledge.

(2) This knowledge hath three parts, accordingto the three summary actions of society; whichare conversation, negotiation, and government.For man seeketh in society comfort, use, andprotection; and they be three wisdoms of diversnatures which do often sever - wisdom of thebehaviour, wisdom of business, and wisdom ofstate.

(3) The wisdom of conversation ought not to beover much affected, but much less despised; forit hath not only an honour in itself, but an in-fluence also into business and government.The poet saith, Nec vultu destrue verba tuo: aman may destroy the force of his words withhis countenance; so may he of his deeds, saithCicero, recommending to his brother affabilityand easy access; Nil interest habere ostium aper-tum, vultum clausum: it is nothing won to admitmen with an open door, and to receive them

with a shut and reserved countenance. So wesee Atticus, before the first interview betweenCæsar and Cicero, the war depending, did seri-ously advise Cicero touching the composingand ordering of his countenance and gesture.And if the government of the countenance be ofsuch effect, much more is that of the speech,and other carriage appertaining to conversa-tion; the true model whereof seemeth to mewell expressed by Livy, though not meant forthis purpose: Ne aut arrogans videar, aut obnox-ius; quorum alterum est àlienæ libertatis obliti, al-terum suæ: the sum of behaviour is to retain aman’s own dignity, without intruding upon theliberty of others. On the other side, if behav-iour and outward carriage be intended toomuch, first it may pass into affectation, andthen Quid deformius quam scenam in vitam trans-ferre - to act a man’s life? But although it pro-ceed not to that extreme, yet it consumeth time,and employeth the mind too much. And there-fore as we use to advise young students from

company keeping, by saying, Amici fures tempo-ris: so certainly the intending of the discretionof behaviour is a great thief of meditation.Again, such as are accomplished in that form ofurbanity please themselves in it, and seldomaspire to higher virtue; whereas those that havedefect in it do seek comeliness by reputation;for where reputation is, almost everything be-cometh; but where that is not, it must be sup-plied by puntos and compliments. Again, thereis no greater impediment of action than anover-curious observance of decency, and theguide of decency, which is time and season.For as Solomon saith, Qui respicit ad ventos, nonseminat; et qui respicit ad nubes, non metet: a manmust make his opportunity, as oft as find it. Toconclude, behaviour seemeth to me as a gar-ment of the mind, and to have the conditions ofa garment. For it ought to be made in fashion;it ought not to be too curious; it ought to beshaped so as to set forth any good making ofthe mind and hide any deformity; and above

all, it ought not to be too strait or restrained forexercise or motion. But this part of civil knowl-edge hath been elegantly handled, and there-fore I cannot report it for deficient.

(4) The wisdom touching negotiation or busi-ness hath not been hitherto collected into writ-ing, to the great derogation of learning and theprofessors of learning. For from this rootspringeth chiefly that note or opinion, which byus is expressed in adage to this effect, that thereis no great concurrence between learning andwisdom. For of the three wisdoms which wehave set down to pertain to civil life, for wis-dom of behaviour, it is by learned men for themost part despised, as an inferior to virtue andan enemy to meditation; for wisdom of gov-ernment, they acquit themselves well whenthey are called to it, but that happeneth to few;but for the wisdom of business, wherein man’slife is most conversant, there be no books of it,except some few scattered advertisements, that

have no proportion to the magnitude of thissubject. For if books were written of this as theother, I doubt not but learned men with meanexperience would far excel men of long experi-ence without learning, and outshoot them intheir own bow.

(5) Neither needeth it at all to be doubted, thatthis knowledge should be so variable as it fal-leth not under precept; for it is much less infi-nite than science of government, which we seeis laboured and in some part reduced. Of thiswisdom it seemeth some of the ancient Romansin the saddest and wisest times were profes-sors; for Cicero reporteth, that it was then inuse for senators that had name and opinion forgeneral wise men, as Coruncanius, Curius,Lælius, and many others, to walk at certainhours in the Place, and to give audience to tho-se that would use their advice; and that theparticular citizens would resort unto them, andconsult with them of the marriage of a daugh-

ter, or of the employing of a son, or of a pur-chase or bargain, or of an accusation, and everyother occasion incident to man’s life. So as the-re is a wisdom of counsel and advice even inprivate causes, arising out of a universal insightinto the affairs of the world; which is used in-deed upon particular causes propounded, butis gathered by general observation of causes oflike nature. For so we see in the book which Q.Cicero writeth to his brother, De petitione consu-latus (being the only book of business that Iknow written by the ancients), although it con-cerned a particular action then on foot, yet thesubstance thereof consisteth of many wise andpolitic axioms, which contain not a temporary,but a perpetual direction in the case of popularelections. But chiefly we may see in those ap-horisms which have place amongst divine writ-ings, composed by Solomon the king, of whomthe Scriptures testify that his heart was as thesands of the sea, encompassing the world andall worldly matters, we see, I say, not a few

profound and excellent cautions, precepts, po-sitions, extending to much variety of occasions;whereupon we will stay a while, offering toconsideration some number of examples.

(6) Sed et cunctis sermonibus qui dicuntur ne ac-commodes aurem tuam, ne forte audias servumtuum maledicentem tibi. Here is commended theprovident stay of inquiry of that which wewould be loth to find: as it was judged greatwisdom in Pompeius Magnus that he burnedSertorius’ papers unperused.

Vir sapiens, si cum stulto contenderit, sive irasca-tur, sive rideat, non inveniet requiem. Here is de-scribed the great disadvantage which a wiseman hath in undertaking a lighter person thanhimself; which is such an engagement as,whether a man turn the matter to jest, or turn itto heat, or howsoever he change copy, he canno ways quit himself well of it.

Qui delicate a pueritia nutrit servum suum, posteasentiet eum contumacem. Here is signified, that ifa man begin too high a pitch in his favours, itdoth commonly end in unkindness and un-thankfulness.

Vidisti virum velocem in opere suo? coram regibusstabit, nec erit inter ignobiles. Here is observed,that of all virtues for rising to honour, quick-ness of despatch is the best; for superiors manytimes love not to have those they employ toodeep or too sufficient, but ready and diligent.

Vidi cunctos viventes qui ambulant sub sole, cumadolescente secundo qui consurgit pro eo. Here isexpressed that which was noted by Sylla first,and after him by Tiberius. Plures adorant solemorientem quam occidentem vel meridianum.

Si spiritus potestatem habentis ascenderit super te,locum tuum ne demiseris; quia curatio faciet cessarepeccata maxima. Here caution is given, that

upon displeasure, retiring is of all courses theunfittest; for a man leaveth things at worst, anddepriveth himself of means to make them bet-ter.

Erat civitas parva, et pauci in ea viri: venit contraeam rex magnus, et vallavit eam, instruxitque mu-nitones per gyrum, et perfecta est obsidio; inventus-que est in ea vir pauper et sapiens, et liberavit eamper sapientiam suam; et nullus deinceps recordatusest huminis illius pauperis. Here the corruptionof states is set forth, that esteem not virtue ormerit longer than they have use of it.

Millis responsio frangit iram. Here is noted thatsilence or rough answer exasperateth; but ananswer present and temperate pacifieth.

Iter pigrorum quasi sepes spinarum. Here is livelyrepresented how laborious sloth proveth in theend; for when things are deferred till the lastinstant, and nothing prepared beforehand, eve-

ry step findeth a briar or impediment, whichcatcheth or stoppeth.

Melior est finis orationis quam principium. Here istaxed the vanity of formal speakers, that studymore about prefaces and inducements, thanupon the conclusions and issues of speech.

Qui cognoscit in judicio faciem, non bene facit; isteet pro buccella panis deseret veritatem. Here isnoted, that a judge were better be a briber thana respecter of persons; for a corrupt judge of-fendeth not so lightly as a facile.

Vir pauper calumnians pauperes simils est imbrivehementi, in quo paratur fames. Here is ex-pressed the extremity of necessitous extortions,figured in the ancient fable of the full and thehungry horseleech.

Fons turbatus pede, et vena corrupta, est justuscadens coram impio. Here is noted, that one judi-

cial and exemplar iniquity in the face of theworld doth trouble the fountains of justice mo-re than many particular injuries passed over byconnivance.

Qui subtrahit aliquid a patre et a matre, et dicit hocnon esse peccatum, particeps est homicidii. Here isnoted that, whereas men in wronging their bestfriends use to extenuate their fault, as if theymight presume or be bold upon them, it dothcontrariwise indeed aggravate their fault, andturneth it from injury to impiety.

Noli esse amicus homini iracundo, nec ambulatocum homine furioso. Here caution is given, thatin the election of our friends we do principallyavoid those which are impatient, as those thatwill espouse us to many factions and quarrels.

Qui conturbat domum suam, possidebit ventum.Here is noted, that in domestical separationsand breaches men do promise to themselves

quieting of their mind and contentment; butstill they are deceived of their expectation, andit turneth to wind.

Filius sapiens lætificat patrem: filius vero stultusmæstitia est matri suæ. Here is distinguished,that fathers have most comfort of the goodproof of their sons; but mothers have most dis-comfort of their ill proof, because women havelittle discerning of virtue, but of fortune.

Qui celat delictum, quærit amicitiam; sed qui alterosermone repetit, separat fæderatos. Here caution isgiven, that reconcilement is better managed byan amnesty, and passing over that which ispast, than by apologies and excuses.

In omni opere bono erit abundantia; ubi autem verbasunt plurima, ibi frequenter egestas. Here is no-ted, that words and discourse aboundeth mostwhere there is idleness and want.

Primus in sua causa justus: sed venit altera pars, etinquiret in eum. Here is observed, that in allcauses the first tale possesseth much; in sort,that the prejudice thereby wrought will behardly removed, except some abuse or falsity inthe information be detected.

Verba bilinguis quasi simplicia, et ipsa perveniuntad interiora ventris. Here is distinguished, thatflattery and insinuation, which seemeth set andartificial, sinketh not far; but that entereth deepwhich hath show of nature, liberty, and sim-plicity.

Qui erudit derisorem, ipse sibi injuriam facit; et quiarguit impium, sibi maculam generat. Here cau-tion is given how we tender reprehension toarrogant and scornful natures, whose manner isto esteem it for contumely, and accordingly toreturn it.

Da sapienti occasionem, et addetur ei sapientia.

Here is distinguished the wisdom brought intohabit, and that which is but verbal and swim-ming only in conceit; for the one upon the occa-sion presented is quickened and redoubled, theother is amazed and confused.

Quomodo in aquis resplendent vultus prospicien-tium, sic corda hominum manifesta sunt pruden-tibus. Here the mind of a wise man is com-pared to a glass, wherein the images of all di-versity of natures and customs are represented;from which representation proceedeth that ap-plication,

“Qui sapit, innumeris moribus aptus erit.”

(7) Thus have I stayed somewhat longer uponthese sentences politic of Solomon than isagreeable to the proportion of an example; ledwith a desire to give authority to this part of

knowledge, which I noted as deficient, by soexcellent a precedent; and have also attendedthem with brief observations, such as to myunderstanding offer no violence to the sense,though I know they may be applied to a moredivine use: but it is allowed, even in divinity,that some interpretations, yea, and some writ-ings, have more of the eagle than others; buttaking them as instructions for life, they mighthave received large discourse, if I would havebroken them and illustrated them by deduce-ments and examples.

(8) Neither was this in use only with the He-brews, but it is generally to be found in thewisdom of the more ancient times; that as menfound out any observation that they thoughtwas good for life, they would gather it and ex-press it in parable or aphorism or fable. But forfables, they were vicegerents and supplies whe-re examples failed: now that the times aboundwith history, the aim is better when the mark is

alive. And therefore the form of writing whichof all others is fittest for this variable argumentof negotiation and occasions is that which Ma-chiavel chose wisely and aptly for government;namely, discourse upon histories or examples.For knowledge drawn freshly and in our viewout of particulars, knoweth the way best to par-ticulars again. And it hath much greater life forpractice when the discourse attendeth upon theexample, than when the example attendethupon the discourse. For this is no point of or-der, as it seemeth at first, but of substance. Forwhen the example is the ground, being setdown in a history at large, it is set down withall circumstances, which may sometimes con-trol the discourse thereupon made, and some-times supply it, as a very pattern for action;whereas the examples alleged for the dis-course’s sake are cited succinctly, and withoutparticularity, and carry a servile aspect towardsthe discourse which they are brought in to ma-ke good.

(9) But this difference is not amiss to be re-membered, that as history of times is the bestground for discourse of government, such asMachiavel handleth, so histories of lives is themost popular for discourse of business, becauseit is more conversant in private actions. Nay,there is a ground of discourse for this purposefitter than them both, which is discourse uponletters, such as are wise and weighty, as manyare of Cicero ad Atticum, and others. For lettershave a great and more particular representationof business than either chronicles or lives. Thushave we spoken both of the matter and form ofthis part of civil knowledge, touching negotia-tion, which we note to be deficient.

(10) But yet there is another part of this part,which differeth as much from that whereof wehave spoken as sapere and sibi sapere, the onemoving as it were to the circumference, theother to the centre. For there is a wisdom of

counsel, and again there is a wisdom of press-ing a man’s own fortune; and they do some-times meet, and often sever. For many are wisein their own ways that are weak for govern-ment or counsel; like ants, which is a wise crea-ture for itself, but very hurtful for the garden.This wisdom the Romans did take much know-ledge of: Nam pol sapiens (saith the comicalpoet) fingit fortunam sibi; and it grew to an ad-age, Faber quisque fortunæ propriæ; and Livy at-tributed it to Cato the first, In hoc viro tanta visanimi et ingenii inerat, ut quocunque loco natusesset sibi ipse fortunam facturus videretur.

(11) This conceit or position, if it be too muchdeclared and professed, hath been thought athing impolitic and unlucky, as was observedin Timotheus the Athenian, who, having donemany great services to the state in his govern-ment, and giving an account thereof to thepeople as the manner was, did conclude everyparticular with this clause, “And in this fortune

had no part.” And it came so to pass, that henever prospered in anything he took in handafterwards. For this is too high and too arro-gant, savouring of that which Ezekiel saith ofPharaoh, Dicis, Fluvius est neus et ego feci memetipsum; or of that which another prophet spea-keth, that men offer sacrifices to their nets andsnares; and that which the poet expresseth,

“Dextra mihi Deus, et telum quod missile libro,Nunc adsint!”

For these confidences were ever unhallowed,and unblessed; and, therefore, those that weregreat politiques indeed ever ascribed their suc-cesses to their felicity and not to their skill orvirtue. For so Sylla surnamed himself Felix, notMagnus. So Cæsar said to the master of theship, Cæsarem portas et fortunam ejus.

(12) But yet, nevertheless, these positions, Faberquisque fortunæ suæ: Sapiens dominabitur astris:Invia virtuti null est via, and the like, being takenand used as spurs to industry, and not as stir-rups to insolency, rather for resolution than forthe presumption or outward declaration, havebeen ever thought sound and good; and are noquestion imprinted in the greatest minds, whoare so sensible of this opinion as they can scarcecontain it within. As we see in Augustus Cæsar(who was rather diverse from his uncle thaninferior in virtue), how when he died he de-sired his friends about him to give him a plau-dite, as if he were conscious to himself that hehad played his part well upon the stage. Thispart of knowledge we do report also as defi-cient; not but that it is practised too much, butit hath not been reduced to writing. And,therefore, lest it should seem to any that it isnot comprehensible by axiom, it is requisite, aswe did in the former, that we set down someheads or passages of it.

(13) Wherein it may appear at the first a newand unwonted argument to teach men how toraise and make their fortune; a doctrine whe-rein every man perchance will be ready to yieldhimself a disciple, till he see the difficulty: forfortune layeth as heavy impositions as virtue;and it is as hard and severe a thing to be a truepolitique, as to be truly moral. But the han-dling hereof concerneth learning greatly, bothin honour and in substance. In honour, becausepragmatical men may not go away with anopinion that learning is like a lark, that canmount and sing, and please herself, and noth-ing else; but may know that she holdeth as wellof the hawk, that can soar aloft, and can alsodescend and strike upon the prey. In sub-stance, because it is the perfect law of inquiry oftruth, that nothing be in the globe of matter,which should not be likewise in the globe ofcrystal or form; that is, that there be not any-thing in being and action which should not be

drawn and collected into contemplation anddoctrine. Neither doth learning admire or es-teem of this architecture of fortune otherwisethan as of an inferior work, for no man’s for-tune can be an end worthy of his being, andmany times the worthiest men do abandontheir fortune willingly for better respects: butnevertheless fortune as an organ of virtue andmerit deserveth the consideration.

(14) First, therefore, the precept which I con-ceive to be most summary towards the prevail-ing in fortune, is to obtain that window whichMomus did require; who seeing in the frame ofman’s heart such angles and recesses, foundfault there was not a window to look into them;that is, to procure good informations of particu-lars touching persons, their natures, their de-sires and ends, their customs and fashions,their helps and advantages, and whereby theychiefly stand, so again their weaknesses anddisadvantages, and where they lie most open

and obnoxious, their friends, factions, depend-ences; and again their opposites, enviers, com-petitors, their moods and times, Sola viri mollesaditus et tempora noras; their principles, rules,and observations, and the like: and this notonly of persons but of actions; what are on footfrom time to time, and how they are conducted,favoured, opposed, and how they import, andthe like. For the knowledge of present actionsis not only material in itself, but without it alsothe knowledge of persons is very erroneous: formen change with the actions; and whilst theyare in pursuit they are one, and when they re-turn to their nature they are another. Theseinformations of particulars, touching personsand actions, are as the minor propositions inevery active syllogism; for no excellency of ob-servations (which are as the major proposi-tions) can suffice to ground a conclusion, if the-re be error and mistaking in the minors.

(15) That this knowledge is possible, Solomon

is our surety, who saith, Consilium in corde viritanquam aqua profunda; sed vir prudens exhaurietillud. And although the knowledge itself fallethnot under precept because it is of individuals,yet the instructions for the obtaining of it may.

(16) We will begin, therefore, with this precept,according to the ancient opinion, that the sin-ews of wisdom are slowness of belief and dis-trust; that more trust be given to countenancesand deeds than to words; and in words ratherto sudden passages and surprised words thanto set and purposed words. Neither let that befeared which is said, Fronti nulla fides, which ismeant of a general outward behaviour, and notof the private and subtle motions and laboursof the countenance and gesture; which, as Q.Cicero elegantly saith, is Animi janua, “the gateof the mind.” None more close than Tiberius,and yet Tacitus saith of Gallus, Etenim vultuoffensionem conjectaverat. So again, noting thediffering character and manner of his com-

mending Germanicus and Drusus in the Senate,he saith, touching his fashion wherein he car-ried his speech of Germanicus, thus: Magis inspeciem adornatis verbis, quam ut penitus sentirecrederetur; but of Drusus thus: Paucioribus sedintentior, et fida oratione; and in another place,speaking of his character of speech when he didanything that was gracious and popular, hesaith, “That in other things he was velut eluctan-tium verborum;” but then again, solutius loqueba-tur quando subveniret. So that there is no suchartificer of dissimulation, nor no such com-manded countenance (vultus jussus), that cansever from a feigned tale some of these fash-ions, either a more slight and careless fashion,or more set and formal, or more tedious andwandering, or coming from a man more drilyand hardly.

(17) Neither are deeds such assured pledges asthat they may be trusted without a judiciousconsideration of their magnitude and nature:

Fraus sibi in parvis fidem præstruit ut majore emo-lumento fallat; and the Italian thinketh himselfupon the point to be bought and sold, when heis better used than he was wont to be withoutmanifest cause. For small favours, they do butlull men to sleep, both as to caution and as toindustry; and are, as Demosthenes calleththem, Alimenta socordiæ. So again we see howfalse the nature of some deeds are, in that par-ticular which Mutianus practised upon Anto-nius Primus, upon that hollow and unfaithfulreconcilement which was made between them;whereupon Mutianus advanced many of thefriends of Antonius, Simul amicis ejus præfectu-ras et tribunatus largitur: wherein, under pre-tence to strengthen him, he did desolate him,and won from him his dependents.

(18) As for words, though they be like waters tophysicians, full of flattery and uncertainty, yetthey are not to be despised specially with theadvantage of passion and affection. For so we

see Tiberius, upon a stinging and incensingspeech of Agrippina, came a step forth of hisdissimulation when he said, “You are hurt be-cause you do not reign;” of which Tacitus saith,Audita hæc raram occulti pectoris vocem elicuere:correptamque Græco versu admonuit, ideo lædi quianon regnaret. And, therefore, the poet doth ele-gantly call passions tortures that urge men toconfess their secrets:-

“Vino torus et ira.”

And experience showeth there are few men sotrue to themselves and so settled but that, so-metimes upon heat, sometimes upon bravery,sometimes upon kindness, sometimes upontrouble of mind and weakness, they openthemselves; specially if they be put to it with acounter-dissimulation, according to the proverbof Spain, Di mentira, y sacar as verdad: “Tell a lie

and find a truth.”

(19) As for the knowing of men which is at sec-ond hand from reports: men’s weaknesses andfaults are best known from their enemies, theirvirtues and abilities from their friends, theircustoms and times from their servants, theirconceits and opinions from their familiarfriends, with whom they discourse most. Gen-eral fame is light, and the opinions conceivedby superiors or equals are deceitful; for to suchmen are more masked: Verior fama e domesticisemanat.

(20) But the soundest disclosing and expound-ing of men is by their natures and ends, whe-rein the weakest sort of men are best inter-preted by their natures, and the wisest by theirends. For it was both pleasantly and wiselysaid (though I think very untruly) by a nuncioof the Pope, returning from a certain nationwhere he served as lidger; whose opinion being

asked touching the appointment of one to go inhis place, he wished that in any case they didnot send one that was too wise; because no ve-ry wise man would ever imagine what they inthat country were like to do. And certainly it isan error frequent for men to shoot over, and tosuppose deeper ends and more compass rea-ches than are: the Italian proverb being elegant,and for the most part true:-

“Di danari, di senno, e di fede,C’è ne manco che non credi.”

“There is commonly less money, less wisdom,and less good faith than men do accountupon.”

(21) But princes, upon a far other reason, arebest interpreted by their natures, and privatepersons by their ends. For princes being at the

top of human desires, they have for the mostpart no particular ends whereto they aspire, bydistance from which a man might take measureand scale of the rest of their actions and desires;which is one of the causes that maketh theirhearts more inscrutable. Neither is it sufficientto inform ourselves in men’s ends and naturesof the variety of them only, but also of the pre-dominancy, what humour reigneth most, andwhat end is principally sought. For so we see,when Tigellinus saw himself outstripped byPetronius Turpilianus in Nero’s humours ofpleasures, metus ejus rimatur, he wrought uponNero’s fears, whereby he broke the other’sneck.

(22) But to all this part of inquiry the mostcompendious way resteth in three things; thefirst, to have general acquaintance and inward-ness with those which have general acquaint-ance and look most into the world; and spe-cially according to the diversity of business,

and the diversity of persons, to have privacyand conversation with some one friend at leastwhich is perfect and well-intelligenced in everyseveral kind. The second is to keep a good me-diocrity in liberty of speech and secrecy; inmost things liberty; secrecy where it importeth;for liberty of speech inviteth and provokethliberty to be used again, and so bringeth muchto a man’s knowledge; and secrecy on the otherside induceth trust and inwardness. The last isthe reducing of a man’s self to this watchfuland serene habit, as to make account and pur-pose, in every conference and action, as well toobserve as to act. For as Epictetus would havea philosopher in every particular action to sayto himself, Et hoc volo, et etiam institutum servare;so a politic man in everything should say tohimself, Et hoc volo, ac etiam aliquid addiscere. Ihave stayed the longer upon this precept ofobtaining good information because it is a mainpart by itself, which answereth to all the rest.But, above all things, caution must be taken

that men have a good stay and hold of them-selves, and that this much knowing do notdraw on much meddling; for nothing is moreunfortunate than light and rash intermeddlingin many matters. So that this variety of knowl-edge tendeth in conclusion but only to this, tomake a better and freer choice of those actionswhich may concern us, and to conduct themwith the less error and the more dexterity.

(23) The second precept concerning this knowl-edge is, for men to take good information tou-ching their own person, and well to understandthemselves; knowing that, as St. James saith,though men look oft in a glass, yet they dosuddenly forget themselves; wherein as thedivine glass is the Word of God, so the politicglass is the state of the world, or times whereinwe live, in the which we are to behold our-selves.

(24) For men ought to take an impartial view of

their own abilities and virtues; and again oftheir wants and impediments; accounting thesewith the most, and those other with the least;and from this view and examination to framethe considerations following.

(25) First, to consider how the constitution oftheir nature sorteth with the general state of thetimes; which if they find agreeable and fit, thenin all things to give themselves more scope andliberty; but if differing and dissonant, then inthe whole course of their life to be more closeretired, and reserved; as we see in Tiberius,who was never seen at a play, and came notinto the senate in twelve of his last years; whe-reas Augustus Cæsar lived ever in men’s eyes,which Tacitus observeth, alia Tiberio morum via.

(26) Secondly, to consider how their naturesorteth with professions and courses of life, andaccordingly to make election, if they be free;and, if engaged, to make the departure at the

first opportunity; as we see was done by DukeValentine, that was designed by his father to asacerdotal profession, but quitted it soon afterin regard of his parts and inclination; beingsuch, nevertheless, as a man cannot tell wellwhether they were worse for a prince or for apriest.

(27) Thirdly, to consider how they sort withthose whom they are like to have competitorsand concurrents; and to take that course whe-rein there is most solitude, and themselves liketo be most eminent; as Cæsar Julius did, who atfirst was an orator or pleader; but when he sawthe excellency of Cicero, Hortensius, Catulus,and others for eloquence, and saw there was noman of reputation for the wars but Pompeius,upon whom the state was forced to rely, heforsook his course begun towards a civil andpopular greatness, and transferred his designsto a martial greatness.

(28) Fourthly, in the choice of their friends anddependents, to proceed according to the com-position of their own nature; as we may see inCæsar, all whose friends and followers weremen active and effectual, but not solemn, or ofreputation.

(29) Fifthly, to take special heed how they gui-de themselves by examples, in thinking theycan do as they see others do; whereas perhapstheir natures and carriages are far differing. Inwhich error it seemeth Pompey was, of whomCicero saith that he was wont often to say, Syllapotuit, ego non potero? Wherein he was muchabused, the natures and proceedings of himselfand his example being the unlikest in theworld; the one being fierce, violent, and press-ing the fact; the other solemn, and full of maj-esty and circumstance, and therefore the lesseffectual.

But this precept touching the politic knowledge

of ourselves hath many other branches, where-upon we cannot insist.

(30) Next to the well understanding and dis-cerning of a man’s self, there followeth the wellopening and revealing a man’s self; wherein wesee nothing more usual than for the more ableman to make the less show. For there is a greatadvantage in the well setting forth of a man’svirtues, fortunes, merits; and again, in the arti-ficial covering of a man’s weaknesses, defects,disgraces; staying upon the one, sliding fromthe other; cherishing the one by circumstances,gracing the other by exposition, and the like.Wherein we see what Tacitus saith of Mu-tianus, who was the greatest politique of histime, Omnium quæ dixerat feceratque arte quadamostentator, which requireth indeed some art, lestit turn tedious and arrogant; but yet so, as os-tentation (though it be to the first degree ofvanity) seemeth to me rather a vice in mannersthan in policy; for as it is said, Audacter calum-

niare, semper aliquid hæret; so, except it be in aridiculous degree of deformity, Audacter te ven-dita, semper aluquid hæret. For it will stick withthe more ignorant and inferior sort of men,though men of wisdom and rank do smile at itand despise it; and yet the authority won withmany doth countervail the disdain of a few.But if it be carried with decency and govern-ment, as with a natural, pleasant, and ingeniousfashion; or at times when it is mixed with someperil and unsafety (as in military persons); or attimes when others are most envied; or witheasy and careless passage to it and from it,without dwelling too long, or being too serious;or with an equal freedom of taxing a man’s self,as well as gracing himself; or by occasion ofrepelling or putting down others’ injury or in-solency; it doth greatly add to reputation: andsurely not a few solid natures, that want thisventosity and cannot sail in the height of thewinds, are not without some prejudice and dis-advantage by their moderation.

(31) But for these flourishes and enhancementsof virtue, as they are not perchance unneces-sary, so it is at least necessary that virtue be notdisvalued and embased under the just price,which is done in three manners - by offeringand obtruding a man’s self, wherein men thinkhe is rewarded when he is accepted; by doingtoo much, which will not give that which iswell done leave to settle, and in the end in-duceth satiety; and by finding too soon the fruitof a man’s virtue, in commendation, applause,honour, favour; wherein if a man be pleasedwith a little, let him hear what is truly said:Cave ne insuetus rebus majoribus videaris, si hæc teres parva sicuti magna delectat.

(32) But the covering of defects is of no lessimportance than the valuing of good parts;which may be done likewise in three manners -by caution, by colour, and by confidence. Cau-tion is when men do ingeniously and discreetly

avoid to be put into those things for which theyare not proper; whereas contrariwise bold andunquiet spirits will thrust themselves into mat-ters without difference, and so publish andproclaim all their wants. Colour is when menmake a way for themselves to have a construc-tion made of their faults or wants, as proceed-ing from a better cause or intended for someother purpose. For of the one it is well said,

“Sæpe latet vitium proximitate boni,”

and therefore whatsoever want a man hath, hemust see that he pretend the virtue that shad-oweth it; as if he be dull, he must affect gravity;if a coward, mildness; and so the rest. For thesecond, a man must frame some probable causewhy he should not do his best, and why heshould dissemble his abilities; and for that pur-pose must use to dissemble those abilities

which are notorious in him, to give colour thathis true wants are but industries and dissimula-tions. For confidence, it is the last but the sur-est remedy - namely, to depress and seem todespise whatsoever a man cannot attain; ob-serving the good principle of the merchants,who endeavour to raise the price of their owncommodities, and to beat down the price ofothers. But there is a confidence that passeththis other, which is to face out a man’s owndefects, in seeming to conceive that he is best inthose things wherein he is failing; and, to helpthat again, to seem on the other side that hehath least opinion of himself in those thingswherein he is best: like as we shall see it com-monly in poets, that if they show their verses,and you except to any, they will say, “That thatline cost them more labour than any of therest;” and presently will seem to disable andsuspect rather some other line, which theyknow well enough to be the best in the num-ber. But above all, in this righting and helping

of a man’s self in his own carriage, he must takeheed he show not himself dismantled and ex-posed to scorn and injury, by too much dul-ceness, goodness, and facility of nature; butshow some sparkles of liberty, spirit, and edge.Which kind of fortified carriage, with a readyrescussing of a man’s self from scorns, is some-times of necessity imposed upon men bysomewhat in their person or fortune; but it eversucceedeth with good felicity.

(33) Another precept of this knowledge is by allpossible endeavour to frame the mind to bepliant and obedient to occasion; for nothinghindereth men’s fortunes so much as this: Idemmanebat, neque idem decebat - men are wherethey were, when occasions turn: and thereforeto Cato, whom Livy maketh such an architectof fortune, he addeth that he had versatile in-genium. And thereof it cometh that these gravesolemn wits, which must be like themselvesand cannot make departures, have more dig-

nity than felicity. But in some it is nature to besomewhat vicious and enwrapped, and noteasy to turn. In some it is a conceit that is al-most a nature, which is, that men can hardlymake themselves believe that they ought tochange their course, when they have foundgood by it in former experience. For Machiavelnoted wisely how Fabius Maximus would havebeen temporising still, according to his old bias,when the nature of the war was altered andrequired hot pursuit. In some other it is wantof point and penetration in their judgment, thatthey do not discern when things have a period,but come in too late after the occasion; as De-mosthenes compareth the people of Athens tocountry fellows, when they play in a fenceschool, that if they have a blow, then they re-move their weapon to that ward, and not be-fore. In some other it is a lothness to lose la-bours passed, and a conceit that they can bringabout occasions to their ply; and yet in the end,when they see no other remedy, then they come

to it with disadvantage; as Tarquinius, thatgave for the third part of Sibylla’s books thetreble price, when he might at first have had allthree for the simple. But from whatsoever rootor cause this restiveness of mind proceedeth, itis a thing most prejudicial; and nothing is morepolitic than to make the wheels of our mindconcentric and voluble with the wheels of for-tune.

(34) Another precept of this knowledge, whichhath some affinity with that we last spoke of,but with difference, is that which is well ex-pressed, Fatis accede deisque, that men do notonly turn with the occasions, but also run withthe occasions, and not strain their credit orstrength to over-hard or extreme points; butchoose in their actions that which is most pass-able: for this will preserve men from foil, notoccupy them too much about one matter, winopinion of moderation, please the most, andmake a show of a perpetual felicity in all they

undertake: which cannot but mightily increasereputation.

(35) Another part of this knowledge seemeth tohave some repugnancy with the former two,but not as I understand it; and it is that whichDemosthenes uttereth in high terms: Et que-madmodum receptum est, ut exercitum ducat im-perator, sic et a cordatis viris res ipsæ ducendæ; utquæipsis videntur, ea gerantur, et non ipsi eventuspersequi cogantur. For if we observe we shallfind two differing kinds of sufficiency in man-aging of business: some can make use of occa-sions aptly and dexterously, but plot little; so-me can urge and pursue their own plots well,but cannot accommodate nor take in; either ofwhich is very imperfect without the other.

(36) Another part of this knowledge is the ob-serving a good mediocrity in the declaring ornot declaring a man’s self: for although depthof secrecy, and making way (qualis est via navis

in mari, which the French calleth sourdes menées,when men set things in work without openingthemselves at all), be sometimes both prosper-ous and admirable; yet many times dissimulatioerrores parit, qui dissimulatorem ipsum illaqueant.And therefore we see the greatest politiqueshave in a natural and free manner professedtheir desires, rather than been reserved anddisguised in them. For so we see that LuciusSylla made a kind of profession, “that he wis-hed all men happy or unhappy, as they stoodhis friends or enemies.” So Cæsar, when hewent first into Gaul, made no scruple to profess“that he had rather be first in a village thansecond at Rome.” So again, as soon as he hadbegun the war, we see what Cicero saith ofhim, Alter (meaning of Cæsar) non recusat, sedquodammodo postulat, ut (ut est) sic appelleturtyrannus. So we may see in a letter of Cicero toAtticus, that Augustus Cæsar, in his very en-trance into affairs, when he was a darling of thesenate, yet in his harangues to the people

would swear, Ita parentis honores consequi liceat(which was no less than the tyranny), save that,to help it, he would stretch forth his hand to-wards a statue of Cæsar’s that was erected inthe place: and men laughed and wondered, andsaid, “Is it possible?” or, “Did you ever hear thelike?” and yet thought he meant no hurt; he didit so handsomely and ingenuously. And allthese were prosperous: whereas Pompey, whotended to the same ends, but in a more darkand dissembling manner as Tacitus saith ofhim, Occultior non melior, wherein Sallust con-curreth, Ore probo, animo inverecundo, made ithis design, by infinite secret engines, to cast thestate into an absolute anarchy and confusion,that the state might cast itself into his arms fornecessity and protection, and so the sovereignpower be put upon him, and he never seen init: and when he had brought it (as he thought)to that point when he was chosen consul alone,as never any was, yet he could make no greatmatter of it, because men understood him not;

but was fain in the end to go the beaten track ofgetting arms into his hands, by colour of thedoubt of Cæsar’s designs: so tedious, casual,and unfortunate are these deep dissimulations:whereof it seemeth Tacitus made this judg-ment, that they were a cunning of an inferiorform in regard of true policy; attributing theone to Augustus, the other to Tiberius; where,speaking of Livia, he saith, Et cum artibus maritisimulatione filii bene compostia: for surely thecontinual habit of dissimulation is but a weakand sluggish cunning, and not greatly politic.

(37) Another precept of this architecture of for-tune is to accustom our minds to judge of theproportion or value of things, as they conduceand are material to our particular ends; andthat to do substantially and not superficially.For we shall find the logical part (as I may termit) of some men’s minds good, but the mathe-matical part erroneous; that is, they can welljudge of consequences, but not of proportions

and comparison, preferring things of show andsense before things of substance and effect. Sosome fall in love with access to princes, otherswith popular fame and applause, supposingthey are things of great purchase, when in ma-ny cases they are but matters of envy, peril, andimpediment. So some measure things accord-ing to the labour and difficulty or assiduitywhich are spent about them; and think, if theybe ever moving, that they must needs advanceand proceed; as Cæsar saith in a despisingmanner of Cato the second, when he describethhow laborious and indefatigable he was to nogreat purpose, Hæc omnia magno studio agebat.So in most things men are ready to abuse them-selves in thinking the greatest means to be best,when it should be the fittest.

(38) As for the true marshalling of men’s pur-suits towards their fortune, as they are more orless material, I hold them to stand thus. Firstthe amendment of their own minds. For the

removal of the impediments of the mind willsooner clear the passages of fortune than theobtaining fortune will remove the impedimentsof the mind. In the second place I set downwealth and means; which I know most menwould have placed first, because of the generaluse which it beareth towards all variety of oc-casions. But that opinion I may condemn withlike reason as Machiavel doth that other, thatmoneys were the sinews of the wars; whereas(saith he) the true sinews of the wars are thesinews of men’s arms, that is, a valiant, popu-lous, and military nation: and he voucheth ap-tly the authority of Solon, who, when Crœsusshowed him his treasury of gold, said to him,that if another came that had better iron, hewould be master of his gold. In like manner itmay be truly affirmed that it is not moneys thatare the sinews of fortune, but it is the sinewsand steel of men’s minds, wit, courage, audac-ity, resolution, temper, industry, and the like.In the third place I set down reputation, be-

cause of the peremptory tides and currents ithath; which, if they be not taken in their duetime, are seldom recovered, it being extremehard to play an after-game of reputation. Andlastly I place honour, which is more easily wonby any of the other three, much more by all,than any of them can be purchased by honour.To conclude this precept, as there is order andpriority in matter, so is there in time, the pre-posterous placing whereof is one of the com-monest errors: while men fly to their endswhen they should intend their beginnings, anddo not take things in order of time as they comeon, but marshal them according to greatnessand not according to instance; not observingthe good precept, Quod nunc instat agamus.

(39) Another precept of this knowledge is not toembrace any matters which do occupy toogreat a quantity of time, but to have that sound-ing in a man’s ears, Sed fugit interea fugit irrepa-rabile tempus: and that is the cause why those

which take their course of rising by professionsof burden, as lawyers, orators, painful divines,and the like, are not commonly so politic fortheir own fortune, otherwise than in their ordi-nary way, because they want time to learn par-ticulars, to wait occasions, and to devise plots.

(40) Another precept of this knowledge is toimitate nature, which doth nothing in vain;which surely a man may do if he do well inter-lace his business, and bend not his mind toomuch upon that which he principally inten-deth. For a man ought in every particular ac-tion so to carry the motions of his mind, and soto have one thing under another, as if he cannothave that he seeketh in the best degree, yet tohave it in a second, or so in a third; and if hecan have no part of that which he purposed, yetto turn the use of it to somewhat else; and if hecannot make anything of it for the present, yetto make it as a seed of somewhat in time to co-me; and if he can contrive no effect or sub-

stance from it, yet to win some good opinion byit, or the like. So that he should exact an ac-count of himself of every action, to reap some-what, and not to stand amazed and confused ifhe fail of that he chiefly meant: for nothing ismore impolitic than to mind actions wholly oneby one. For he that doth so loseth infinite occa-sions which intervene, and are many times mo-re proper and propitious for somewhat that heshall need afterwards, than for that which heurgeth for the present; and therefore men mustbe perfect in that rule, Hæc oportet facere, et illanon imittere.

(41) Another precept of this knowledge is, notto engage a man’s self peremptorily in any-thing, though it seem not liable to accident; butever to have a window to fly out at, or a way toretire: following the wisdom in the ancient fa-ble of the two frogs, which consulted whentheir plash was dry whither they should go;and the one moved to go down into a pit, be-

cause it was not likely the water would drythere; but the other answered, “True, but if itdo, how shall we get out again?”

(42) Another precept of this knowledge is thatancient precept of Bias, construed not to anypoint of perfidiousness, but to caution and mo-deration, Et ama tanquam inimicus futurus et oditanquam amaturus. For it utterly betrayeth allutility for men to embark themselves too farinto unfortunate friendships, troublesomespleens, and childish and humorous envies oremulations.

(43) But I continue this beyond the measure ofan example; led, because I would not have suchknowledges, which I note as deficient, to bethought things imaginative or in the air, or anobservation or two much made of, but things ofbulk and mass, whereof an end is more hardlymade than a beginning. It must be likewiseconceived, that in these points which I mention

and set down, they are far from complete trac-tates of them, but only as small pieces for pat-terns. And lastly, no man I suppose will thinkthat I mean fortunes are not obtained withoutall this ado; for I know they come tumbling intosome men’s laps; and a number obtain goodfortunes by diligence in a plain way, little in-termeddling, and keeping themselves fromgross errors.

(44) But as Cicero, when he setteth down anidea of a perfect orator, doth not mean that eve-ry pleader should be such; and so likewise,when a prince or a courtier hath been describedby such as have handled those subjects, themould hath used to be made according to theperfection of the art, and not according tocommon practice: so I understand it, that itought to be done in the description of a politicman, I mean politic for his own fortune.

(45) But it must be remembered all this while,

that the precepts which we have set down areof that kind which may be counted and calledBonæ Artes. As for evil arts, if a man would setdown for himself that principle of Machiavel,“That a man seek not to attain virtue itself, butthe appearance only thereof; because the creditof virtue is a help, but the use of it is cumber:”or that other of his principles, “That he presup-pose that men are not fitly to be wrought oth-erwise but by fear; and therefore that he seek tohave every man obnoxious, low, and in straits,”which the Italians call seminar spine, to sowthorns: or that other principle, contained in theverse which Cicero citeth, Cadant amici, dum-modo inimici intercidant, as the triumvirs, whichsold every one to other the lives of their friendsfor the deaths of their enemies: or that otherprotestation of L. Catilina, to set on fire andtrouble states, to the end to fish in droumy wa-ters, and to unwrap their fortunes, Ego si quid infortunis meis excitatum sit incendium, id non aquased ruina restinguam: or that other principle of

Lysander, “That children are to be deceivedwith comfits, and men with oaths:” and the likeevil and corrupt positions, whereof (as in allthings) there are more in number than of thegood: certainly with these dispensations fromthe laws of charity and integrity, the pressing ofa man’s fortune may be more hasty and com-pendious. But it is in life as it is in ways, theshortest way is commonly the foulest, andsurely the fairer way is not much about.

(46) But men, if they be in their own power,and do bear and sustain themselves, and be notcarried away with a whirlwind or tempest ofambition, ought in the pursuit of their own for-tune to set before their eyes not only that gen-eral map of the world, “That all things are van-ity and vexation of spirit,” but many othermore particular cards and directions: chieflythat, that being without well-being is a curse,and the greater being the greater curse; andthat all virtue is most rewarded and all wick-

edness most punished in itself: according as thepoet saith excellently:

“Quæ vobis, quæ digna, viri pro laudibus istisPræmia posse rear solvi? pulcherrima primumDii moresque dabunt vestri.”

And so of the contrary. And secondly theyought to look up to the Eternal Providence andDivine Judgment, which often subverteth thewisdom of evil plots and imaginations, accord-ing to that scripture, “He hath conceived mis-chief, and shall bring forth a vain thing.” Andalthough men should refrain themselves frominjury and evil arts, yet this incessant and Sab-bathless pursuit of a man’s fortune leaveth nottribute which we owe to God of our time; who(we see) demandeth a tenth of our substance,and a seventh, which is more strict, of our time:and it is to small purpose to have an erected

face towards heaven, and a perpetual grovel-ling spirit upon earth, eating dust as doth theserpent, Atque affigit humo divinæ particulamauræ. And if any man flatter himself that hewill employ his fortune well, though he shouldobtain it ill, as was said concerning AugustusCæsar, and after of Septimius Severus, “Thateither they should never have been born, orelse they should never have died,” they did somuch mischief in the pursuit and ascent of theirgreatness, and so much good when they wereestablished; yet these compensations and satis-factions are good to be used, but never good tobe purposed. And lastly, it is not amiss formen, in their race towards their fortune, to coolthemselves a little with that conceit which iselegantly expressed by the Emperor Charles V.,in his instructions to the king his son, “Thatfortune hath somewhat of the nature of a wo-man, that if she he too much wooed she is thefarther off.” But this last is but a remedy forthose whose tastes are corrupted: let men rat-

her build upon that foundation which is as acorner-stone of divinity and philosophy, whe-rein they join close, namely that same Primumquærite. For divinity saith, Primum quærite reg-num Dei, et ista omnia adjicientur vobis: and phi-losophy saith, Primum quærite bona animi; cæteraaut aderunt, aut non oberunt. And although thehuman foundation hath somewhat of thesands, as we see in M. Brutus, when he brokeforth into that speech,

“Te colui (Virtus) ut rem; ast tu nomen inanees;”

yet the divine foundation is upon the rock. Butthis may serve for a taste of that knowledgewhich I noted as deficient.

(47) Concerning government, it is a part ofknowledge secret and retired in both these re-

spects in which things are deemed secret; forsome things are secret because they are hard toknow, and some because they are not fit to ut-ter. We see all governments are obscure andinvisible:

“Totamque infusa per artusMens agitat molem, et magno se corpore mis-cet.”

Such is the description of governments. We seethe government of God over the world is hid-den, insomuch as it seemeth to participate ofmuch irregularity and confusion. The govern-ment of the soul in moving the body is inwardand profound, and the passages thereof hardlyto be reduced to demonstration. Again, thewisdom of antiquity (the shadows whereof arein the poets) in the description of torments andpains, next unto the crime of rebellion, which

was the giants’ offence, doth detest the offenceof futility, as in Sisyphus and Tantalus. But thiswas meant of particulars: nevertheless evenunto the general rules and discourses of policyand government there is due a reverent andreserved handling.

(48) But contrariwise in the governors towardsthe governed, all things ought as far as the frail-ty of man permitteth to be manifest and re-vealed. For so it is expressed in the Scripturestouching the government of God, that thisglobe, which seemeth to us a dark and shadybody, is in the view of God as crystal: Et in con-spectu sedis tanquam mare vitreum simile crystallo.So unto princes and states, and specially to-wards wise senates and councils, the naturesand dispositions of the people, their conditionsand necessities, their factions and combina-tions, their animosities and discontents, oughtto be, in regard of the variety of their intelligen-ces, the wisdom of their observations, and the

height of their station where they keep sentinel,in great part clear and transparent. Wherefore,considering that I write to a king that is a mas-ter of this science, and is so well assisted, Ithink it decent to pass over this part in silence,as willing to obtain the certificate which one ofthe ancient philosophers aspired unto; whobeing silent, when others contended to makedemonstration of their abilities by speech, de-sired it might be certified for his part, “Thatthere was one that knew how to hold hispeace.”

(49) Notwithstanding, for the more public partof government, which is laws, I think good tonote only one deficiency; which is, that all thosewhich have written of laws have written eitheras philosophers or as lawyers, and none as sta-tesmen. As for the philosophers, they makeimaginary laws for imaginary commonwealths,and their discourses are as the stars, which givelittle light because they are so high. For the

lawyers, they write according to the states whe-re they live what is received law, and not whatought to be law; for the wisdom of a law-makeris one, and of a lawyer is another. For there arein nature certain fountains of justice whence allcivil laws are derived but as streams; and likeas waters do take tinctures and tastes from thesoils through which they run, so do civil lawsvary according to the regions and governmentswhere they are planted, though they proceedfrom the same fountains. Again, the wisdom ofa law-maker consisteth not only in a platformof justice, but in the application thereof; takinginto consideration by what means laws may bemade certain, and what are the causes and re-medies of the doubtfulness and uncertainty oflaw; by what means laws may be made apt andeasy to be executed, and what are the impedi-ments and remedies in the execution of laws;what influence laws touching private right ofmeum and tuum have into the public state, andhow they may be made apt and agreeable; how

laws are to be penned and delivered, whetherin texts or in Acts, brief or large, with pream-bles or without; how they are to be pruned andreformed from time to time, and what is thebest means to keep them from being too vast involume, or too full of multiplicity and cross-ness; how they are to be expounded, whenupon causes emergent and judicially discussed,and when upon responses and conferences tou-ching general points or questions; how they areto be pressed, rigorously or tenderly; how theyare to be mitigated by equity and good con-science, and whether discretion and strict laware to be mingled in the same courts, or keptapart in several courts; again, how the practice,profession, and erudition of law is to be cen-sured and governed; and many other pointstouching the administration and (as I may termit) animation of laws. Upon which I insist theless, because I purpose (if God give me leave),having begun a work of this nature in apho-risms, to propound it hereafter, noting it in the

meantime for deficient.

(50) And for your Majesty’s laws of England, Icould say much of their dignity, and somewhatof their defect; but they cannot but excel thecivil laws in fitness for the government, for thecivil law was nonhos quæsitum munus in usus; itwas not made for the countries which it gover-neth. Hereof I cease to speak because I will notintermingle matter of action with matter of ge-neral learning.

XXIV. Thus have I concluded this portion oflearning touching civil knowledge; and withcivil knowledge have concluded human phi-losophy; and with human philosophy, philoso-phy in general. And being now at some pause,looking back into that I have passed through,this writing seemeth to me (si nunquam fallitimago), as far as a man can judge of his ownwork, not much better than that noise or soundwhich musicians make while they are in tuning

their instruments, which is nothing pleasant tohear, but yet is a cause why the music is swee-ter afterwards. So have I been content to tunethe instruments of the Muses, that they mayplay that have better hands. And surely, whenI set before me the condition of these times, inwhich learning hath made her third visitationor circuit in all the qualities thereof; as the ex-cellency and vivacity of the wits of this age; thenoble helps and lights which we have by thetravails of ancient writers; the art of printing,which communicateth books to men of all for-tunes; the openness of the world by navigation,which hath disclosed multitudes of experi-ments, and a mass of natural history; the leisurewherewith these times abound, not employingmen so generally in civil business, as the statesof Græcia did, in respect of their popularity,and the state of Rome, in respect of the great-ness of their monarchy; the present dispositionof these times at this instant to peace; the con-sumption of all that ever can be said in contro-

versies of religion, which have so much di-verted men from other sciences; the perfectionof your Majesty’s learning, which as a phœnixmay call whole volleys of wits to follow you;and the inseparable propriety of time, which isever more and more to disclose truth; I cannotbut be raised to this persuasion, that this thirdperiod of time will far surpass that of the Gre-cian and Roman learning; only if men willknow their own strength and their own weak-ness both; and take, one from the other, light ofinvention, and not fire of contradiction; andesteem of the inquisition of truth as of an en-terprise, and not as of a quality or ornament;and employ wit and magnificence to things ofworth and excellency, and not to things vulgarand of popular estimation. As for my labours,if any man shall please himself or others in thereprehension of them, they shall make that an-cient and patient request, Verbera, sed audi: letmen reprehend them, so they observe andweigh them. For the appeal is lawful (though it

may be it shall not be needful) from the firstcogitations of men to their second, and from thenearer times to the times further off. Now letus come to that learning, which both the formertimes were not so blessed as to know, sacredand inspired divinity, the Sabbath and port ofall men’s labours and peregrinations.

XXV. (1) The prerogative of God extendeth aswell to the reason as to the will of man: so thatas we are to obey His law, though we find areluctation in our will, so we are to believe Hisword, though we find a reluctation in our rea-son. For if we believe only that which is agree-able to our sense we give consent to the matter,and not to the author; which is no more thanwe would do towards a suspected and discred-ited witness; but that faith which was ac-counted to Abraham for righteousness was ofsuch a point as whereat Sarah laughed, whotherein was an image of natural reason.

(2) Howbeit (if we will truly consider of it) mo-re worthy it is to believe than to know as wenow know. For in knowledge man’s mind suf-fereth from sense: but in belief it suffereth fromspirit, such one as it holdeth for more author-ised than itself and so suffereth from the wor-thier agent. Otherwise it is of the state of manglorified; for then faith shall cease, and we shallknow as we are known.

(3) Wherefore we conclude that sacred theology(which in our idiom we call divinity) is groun-ded only upon the word and oracle of God, andnot upon the light of nature: for it is written,Cæli enarrant gloriam Dei; but it is not written,Cæli enarrant voluntatem Dei: but of that it issaid, Ad legem et testimonium: si non fecerint se-cundum verbum istud, &c. This holdeth not onlyin those points of faith which concern the greatmysteries of the Deity, of the creation, of theredemption, but likewise those which concernthe law moral, truly interpreted: “Love your

enemies: do good to them that hate you; be liketo your heavenly Father, that suffereth His rainto fall upon the just and unjust.” To this itought to be applauded, Nec vox hominem sonat:it is a voice beyond the light of nature. So wesee the heathen poets, when they fall upon alibertine passion, do still expostulate with lawsand moralities, as if they were opposite andmalignant to nature: Et quod natura remittit,invida jura negant. So said Dendamis the Indianunto Alexander’s messengers, that he hadheard somewhat of Pythagoras, and some otherof the wise men of Græcia, and that he heldthem for excellent men: but that they had afault, which was that they had in too great rev-erence and veneration a thing they called lawand manners. So it must be confessed that agreat part of the law moral is of that perfectionwhereunto the light of nature cannot aspire:how then is it that man is said to have, by thelight and law of nature, some notions and con-ceits of virtue and vice, justice and wrong, good

and evil? Thus, because the light of nature isused in two several senses: the one, that whichspringeth from reason, sense, induction, argu-ment, according to the laws of heaven andearth; the other, that which is imprinted uponthe spirit of man by an inward instinct, accord-ing to the law of conscience, which is a sparkleof the purity of his first estate: in which lattersense only he is participant of some light anddiscerning touching the perfection of the morallaw; but how? sufficient to check the vice butnot to inform the duty. So then the doctrine ofreligion, as well moral as mystical, is not to beattained but by inspiration and revelation fromGod.

(4) The use notwithstanding of reason in spiri-tual things, and the latitude thereof, is verygreat and general: for it is not for nothing thatthe apostle calleth religion “our reasonable ser-vice of God;” insomuch as the very ceremoniesand figures of the old law were full of reason

and signification, much more than the ceremo-nies of idolatry and magic, that are full of non-significants and surd characters. But most spe-cially the Christian faith, as in all things so inthis, deserveth to be highly magnified; holdingand preserving the golden mediocrity in thispoint between the law of the heathen and thelaw of Mahomet, which have embraced the twoextremes. For the religion of the heathen hadno constant belief or confession, but left all tothe liberty of agent; and the religion of Maho-met on the other side interdicteth argumentaltogether: the one having the very face of er-ror, and the other of imposture; whereas theFaith doth both admit and reject disputationwith difference.

(5) The use of human reason in religion is oftwo sorts: the former, in the conception andapprehension of the mysteries of God to usrevealed; the other, in the inferring and deriv-ing of doctrine and direction thereupon. The

former extendeth to the mysteries themselves;but how? by way of illustration, and not byway of argument. The latter consisteth indeedof probation and argument. In the former wesee God vouchsafeth to descend to our capac-ity, in the expressing of His mysteries in sort asmay be sensible unto us; and doth graft Hisrevelations and holy doctrine upon the notionsof our reason, and applieth His inspirations toopen our understanding, as the form of the keyto the ward of the lock. For the latter there isallowed us a use of reason and argument, sec-ondary and respective, although not originaland absolute. For after the articles and princi-ples of religion are placed and exempted fromexamination of reason, it is then permitted untous to make derivations and inferences from andaccording to the analogy of them, for our betterdirection. In nature this holdeth not; for boththe principles are examinable by induction,though not by a medium or syllogism; and be-sides, those principles or first positions have no

discordance with that reason which drawethdown and deduceth the inferior positions. Butyet it holdeth not in religion alone, but in manyknowledges, both of greater and smaller na-ture, namely, wherein there are not only positabut placita; for in such there can be no use ofabsolute reason. We see it familiarly in gamesof wit, as chess, or the like. The draughts andfirst laws of the game are positive, but how?merely ad placitum, and not examinable by rea-son; but then how to direct our play thereuponwith best advantage to win the game is artifi-cial and rational. So in human laws there bemany grounds and maxims which are placitajuris, positive upon authority, and not uponreason, and therefore not to be disputed: butwhat is most just, not absolutely but relatively,and according to those maxims, that affordeth along field of disputation. Such therefore is thatsecondary reason, which hath place in divinity,which is grounded upon the placets of God.

(6) Here therefore I note this deficiency, thatthere hath not been, to my understanding, suf-ficiently inquired and handled the true limitsand use of reason in spiritual things, as a kindof divine dialectic: which for that it is not done,it seemeth to me a thing usual, by pretext oftrue conceiving that which is revealed, tosearch and mine into that which is not revealed;and by pretext of enucleating inferences andcontradictories, to examine that which is posi-tive. The one sort falling into the error of Nico-demus, demanding to have things made moresensible than it pleaseth God to reveal them,Quomodo possit homo nasci cum sit senex? Theother sort into the error of the disciples, whichwere scandalised at a show of contradiction,Quid est hoc quod dicit nobis? Modicum et nonvidebitis me; et iterum, modicum, et videbitis me,&c.

(7) Upon this I have insisted the more, in regardof the great and blessed use thereof; for this

point well laboured and defined of would inmy judgment be an opiate to stay and bridlenot only the vanity of curious speculations,wherewith the schools labour, but the fury ofcontroversies, wherewith the Church la-boureth. For it cannot but open men’s eyes tosee that many controversies do merely pertainto that which is either not revealed or positive;and that many others do grow upon weak andobscure inferences or derivations: which lattersort, if men would revive the blessed style ofthat great doctor of the Gentiles, would be car-ried thus, ego, non dominus; and again, secundumconsilium meum, in opinions and counsels, andnot in positions and oppositions. But men arenow over-ready to usurp the style, non ego, seddominus; and not so only, but to bind it with thethunder and denunciation of curses and anath-emas, to the terror of those which have not suf-ficiently learned out of Solomon that “Thecauseless curse shall not come.”

(8) Divinity hath two principal parts: the matterinformed or revealed, and the nature of theinformation or revelation; and with the latterwe will begin, because it hath most coherencewith that which we have now last handled.The nature of the information consisteth ofthree branches: the limits of the information,the sufficiency of the information, and the ac-quiring or obtaining the information. Unto thelimits of the information belong these consid-erations: how far forth particular persons con-tinue to be inspired; how far forth the Church isinspired; and how far forth reason may beused; the last point whereof I have noted asdeficient. Unto the sufficiency of the informa-tion belong two considerations: what points ofreligion are fundamental, and what perfective,being matter of further building and perfectionupon one and the same foundation; and again,how the gradations of light according to thedispensation of times are material to the suffi-ciency of belief.

(9) Here again I may rather give it in advicethan note it as deficient, that the points funda-mental, and the points of further perfectiononly, ought to be with piety and wisdom dis-tinguished; a subject tending to much like endas that I noted before; for as that other werelikely to abate the number of controversies, sothis is likely to abate the heat of many of them.We see Moses when he saw the Israelite andthe Egyptian fight, he did not say, “Why striveyou?” but drew his sword and slew the Egyp-tian; but when he saw the two Israelites fight,he said, “You are brethren, why strive you?” Ifthe point of doctrine be an Egyptian, it must beslain by the sword of the Spirit, and not recon-ciled; but if it be an Israelite, though in thewrong, then, “Why strive you?” We see of thefundamental points, our Saviour penneth theleague thus, “He that is not with us is againstus;” but of points not fundamental, thus, “Hethat is not against us is with us.” So we see the

coat of our Saviour was entire without seam,and so is the doctrine of the Scriptures in itself;but the garment of the Church was of diverscolours and yet not divided. We see the chaffmay and ought to be severed from the corn inthe ear, but the tares may not be pulled up fromthe corn in the field. So as it is a thing of greatuse well to define what, and of what latitude,those points are which do make men merealiens and disincorporate from the Church ofGod.

(10) For the obtaining of the information, it res-teth upon the true and sound interpretation ofthe Scriptures, which are the fountains of thewater of life. The interpretations of the Scrip-tures are of two sorts: methodical, and solute orat large. For this divine water, which excellethso much that of Jacob’s well, is drawn forthmuch in the same kind as natural water usethto be out of wells and fountains; either it is firstforced up into a cistern, and from thence fet-

ched and derived for use; or else it is drawnand received in buckets and vessels immedi-ately where it springeth. The former sortwhereof, though it seem to be the more ready,yet in my judgment is more subject to corrupt.This is that method which hath exhibited untous the scholastical divinity; whereby divinityhath been reduced into an art, as into a cistern,and the streams of doctrine or positions fetchedand derived from thence.

(11) In this men have sought three things, asummary brevity, a compacted strength, and acomplete perfection; whereof the two first theyfail to find, and the last they ought not to seek.For as to brevity, we see in all summary meth-ods, while men purpose to abridge, they givecause to dilate. For the sum or abridgment bycontraction becometh obscure; the obscurityrequireth exposition, and the exposition is de-duced into large commentaries, or into com-monplaces and titles, which grow to be more

vast than the original writings, whence the sumwas at first extracted. So we see the volumes ofthe schoolmen are greater much than the firstwritings of the fathers, whence the master ofthe sentences made his sum or collection. So inlike manner the volumes of the modern doctorsof the civil law exceed those of the ancient ju-risconsults, of which Tribonian compiled thedigest. So as this course of sums and commen-taries is that which doth infallibly make thebody of sciences more immense in quantity,and more base in substance.

(12) And for strength, it is true that knowledgesreduced into exact methods have a show ofstrength, in that each part seemeth to supportand sustain the other; but this is more satisfac-tory than substantial, like unto buildings whichstand by architecture and compaction, whichare more subject to ruin than those that arebuilt more strong in their several parts, thoughless compacted. But it is plain that the more

you recede from your grounds, the weaker doyou conclude; and as in nature, the more youremove yourself from particulars, the greaterperil of error you do incur; so much more indivinity, the more you recede from the Scrip-tures by inferences and consequences, the moreweak and dilute are your positions.

(13) And as for perfection or completeness indivinity, it is not to be sought, which makesthis course of artificial divinity the more sus-pect. For he that will reduce a knowledge intoan art will make it round and uniform; but indivinity many things must be left abrupt, andconcluded with this: O altitudo sapientiæ et scien-tiæ Dei! quam incomprehensibilia sunt juducuaejus, et non investigabiles viæ ejus. So again theapostle saith, Ex parte scimus: and to have theform of a total, where there is but matter for apart, cannot be without supplies by suppositionand presumption. And therefore I concludethat the true use of these sums and methods

hath place in institutions or introductions pre-paratory unto knowledge; but in them, or bydeducement from them, to handle the mainbody and substance of a knowledge is in allsciences prejudicial, and in divinity dangerous.

(14) As to the interpretation of the Scripturessolute and at large, there have been diverskinds introduced and devised; some of themrather curious and unsafe than sober and war-ranted. Notwithstanding, thus much must beconfessed, that the Scriptures, being given byinspiration and not by human reason, do differfrom all other books in the Author, which byconsequence doth draw on some difference tobe used by the expositor. For the Inditer ofthem did know four things which no man at-tains to know; which are - the mysteries of thekingdom of glory, the perfection of the laws ofnature, the secrets of the heart of man, and thefuture succession of all ages. For as to the firstit is said, “He that presseth into the light shall

be oppressed of the glory.” And again, “Noman shall see My face and live.” To the second,“When He prepared the heavens I was present,when by law and compass He enclosed thedeep.” To the third, “Neither was it needfulthat any should bear witness to Him of man,for He knew well what was in man.” And tothe last, “From the beginning are known to theLord all His works.”

(15) From the former two of these have beendrawn certain senses and expositions of Scrip-tures, which had need be contained within thebounds of sobriety - the one anagogical, andthe other philosophical. But as to the former,man is not to prevent his time: Videmus nunc perspeculum in ænigmate, tunc autem facie ad faciem;wherein nevertheless there seemeth to be a lib-erty granted, as far forth as the polishing of thisglass, or some moderate explication of thisenigma. But to press too far into it cannot butcause a dissolution and overthrow of the spirit

of man. For in the body there are three degreesof that we receive into it - aliment, medicine,and poison; whereof aliment is that which thenature of man can perfectly alter and overcome;medicine is that which is partly converted bynature, and partly converteth nature; and poi-son is that which worketh wholly upon nature,without that nature can in any part work uponit. So in the mind, whatsoever knowledge rea-son cannot at all work upon and convert is amere intoxication, and endangereth a dissolu-tion of the mind and understanding.

(16) But for the latter, it hath been extremely seton foot of late time by the school of Paracelsus,and some others, that have pretended to findthe truth of all natural philosophy in the Scrip-tures; scandalising and traducing all other phi-losophy as heathenish and profane. But thereis no such enmity between God’s Word and Hisworks; neither do they give honour to theScriptures, as they suppose, but much embase

them. For to seek heaven and earth in theWord of God, whereof it is said, “Heaven andearth shall pass, but My word shall not pass,” isto seek temporary things amongst eternal: andas to seek divinity in philosophy is to seek theliving amongst the dead, so to seek philosophyin divinity is to seek the dead amongst the liv-ing: neither are the pots or lavers, whose placewas in the outward part of the temple, to besought in the holiest place of all where the arkof the testimony was seated. And again, thescope or purpose of the Spirit of God is not toexpress matters of nature in the Scriptures, oth-erwise than in passage, and for application toman’s capacity and to matters moral or divine.And it is a true rule, Auctoris aliud agentis parvaauctoritas. For it were a strange conclusion, if aman should use a similitude for ornament orillustration sake, borrowed from nature or his-tory according to vulgar conceit, as of a basi-lisk, a unicorn, a centaur, a Briareus, a hydra, orthe like, that therefore he must needs be

thought to affirm the matter thereof positivelyto be true. To conclude therefore these twointerpretations, the one by reduction or enig-matical, the other philosophical or physical,which have been received and pursued in imi-tation of the rabbins and cabalists, are to beconfined with a a noli akryn sapere, sed time.

(17) But the two latter points, known to Godand unknown to man, touching the secrets ofthe heart and the successions of time, doth ma-ke a just and sound difference between themanner of the exposition of the Scriptures andall other books. For it is an excellent observa-tion which hath been made upon the answersof our Saviour Christ to many of the questionswhich were propounded to Him, how that theyare impertinent to the state of the question de-manded: the reason whereof is, because notbeing like man, which knows man’s thoughtsby his words, but knowing man’s thoughtsimmediately, He never answered their words,

but their thoughts. Much in the like manner itis with the Scriptures, which being written tothe thoughts of men, and to the succession ofall ages, with a foresight of all heresies, contra-dictions, differing estates of the Church, yea,and particularly of the elect, are not to be inter-preted only according to the latitude of theproper sense of the place, and respectively to-wards that present occasion whereupon thewords were uttered, or in precise congruity orcontexture with the words before or after, or incontemplation of the principal scope of the pla-ce; but have in themselves, not only totally orcollectively, but distributively in clauses andwords, infinite springs and streams of doctrineto water the Church in every part. And there-fore as the literal sense is, as it were, the mainstream or river, so the moral sense chiefly, andsometimes the allegorical or typical, are theywhereof the Church hath most use; not that Iwish men to be bold in allegories, or indulgentor light in allusions: but that I do much con-

demn that interpretation of the Scripture whichis only after the manner as men use to interpreta profane book.

(18) In this part touching the exposition of theScriptures, I can report no deficiency; but byway of remembrance this I will add. In perus-ing books of divinity I find many books of con-troversies, and many of commonplaces andtreatises, a mass of positive divinity, as it ismade an art: a number of sermons and lectures,and many prolix commentaries upon the Scrip-tures, with harmonies and concordances. Butthat form of writing in divinity which in myjudgment is of all others most rich and preciousis positive divinity, collected upon particulartexts of Scriptures in brief observations; notdilated into commonplaces, not chasing aftercontroversies, not reduced into method of art; athing abounding in sermons, which will vanish,but defective in books which will remain, and athing wherein this age excelleth. For I am per-

suaded, and I may speak it with an absit invidiaverbo, and nowise in derogation of antiquity,but as in a good emulation between the vineand the olive, that if the choice and best of tho-se observations upon texts of Scriptures whichhave been made dispersedly in sermons withinthis your Majesty’s Island of Brittany by thespace of these forty years and more (leavingout the largeness of exhortations and applica-tions thereupon) had been set down in a con-tinuance, it had been the best work in divinitywhich had been written since the Apostles’times.

(19) The matter informed by divinity is of twokinds: matter of belief and truth of opinion, andmatter of service and adoration; which is alsojudged and directed by the former - the onebeing as the internal soul of religion, and theother as the external body thereof. And, there-fore, the heathen religion was not only a wor-ship of idols, but the whole religion was an idol

in itself; for it had no soul; that is, no certaintyof belief or confession: as a man may wellthink, considering the chief doctors of theirchurch were the poets; and the reason was be-cause the heathen gods were no jealous gods,but were glad to be admitted into part, as theyhad reason. Neither did they respect the pure-ness of heart, so they might have external hon-our and rites.

(20) But out of these two do result and issuefour main branches of divinity: faith, manners,liturgy, and government. Faith containeth thedoctrine of the nature of God, of the attributesof God, and of the works of God. The nature ofGod consisteth of three persons in unity ofGodhead. The attributes of God are eithercommon to the Deity, or respective to the per-sons. The works of God summary are two, thatof the creation and that of the redemption; andboth these works, as in total they appertain tothe unity of the Godhead, so in their parts they

refer to the three persons: that of the creation,in the mass of the matter, to the Father; in thedisposition of the form, to the Son; and in thecontinuance and conservation of the being, tothe Holy Spirit. So that of the redemption, inthe election and counsel, to the Father; in thewhole act and consummation, to the Son; andin the application, to the Holy Spirit; for by theHoly Ghost was Christ conceived in flesh, andby the Holy Ghost are the elect regenerate inspirit. This work likewise we consider eithereffectually, in the elect; or privately, in the rep-robate; or according to appearance, in the visi-ble Church.

(21) For manners, the doctrine thereof is con-tained in the law, which discloseth sin. The lawitself is divided, according to the edition the-reof, into the law of nature, the law moral, andthe law positive; and according to the style, intonegative and affirmative, prohibitions andcommandments. Sin, in the matter and subject

thereof, is divided according to the command-ments; in the form thereof it referreth to thethree persons in Deity: sins of infirmity againstthe Father, whose more special attribute is po-wer; sins of ignorance against the Son, whoseattribute is wisdom; and sins of malice againstthe Holy Ghost, whose attribute is grace or lo-ve. In the motions of it, it either moveth to theright hand or to the left; either to blind devo-tion or to profane and libertine transgression;either in imposing restraint where God gran-teth liberty, or in taking liberty where God im-poseth restraint. In the degrees and progress ofit, it divideth itself into thought, word, or act.And in this part I commend much the deducingof the law of God to cases of conscience; for thatI take indeed to be a breaking, and not exhibit-ing whole of the bread of life. But that whichquickeneth both these doctrines of faith andmanners is the elevation and consent of theheart; whereunto appertain books of exhorta-tion, holy meditation, Christian resolution, and

the like.

(22) For the liturgy or service, it consisteth ofthe reciprocal acts between God and man;which, on the part of God, are the preaching ofthe word, and the sacraments, which are sealsto the covenant, or as the visible word; and onthe part of man, invocation of the name of God;and under the law, sacrifices; which were asvisible prayers or confessions: but now the ado-ration being in spiritu et veritate, there re-maineth only vituli labiorum; although the useof holy vows of thankfulness and retributionmay be accounted also as sealed petitions.

(23) And for the government of the Church, itconsisteth of the patrimony of the Church, thefranchises of the Church, and the offices andjurisdictions of the Church, and the laws of theChurch directing the whole; all which have twoconsiderations, the one in themselves, the otherhow they stand compatible and agreeable to

the civil estate.

(24) This matter of divinity is handled either inform of instruction of truth, or in form of confu-tation of falsehood. The declinations from re-ligion, besides the privative, which is atheismand the branches thereof, are three - heresies,idolatry, and witchcraft: heresies, when weserve the true God with a false worship; idola-try, when we worship false gods, supposingthem to be true; and witchcraft, when we adorefalse gods, knowing them to be wicked andfalse. For so your Majesty doth excellently wellobserve, that witchcraft is the height of idola-try. And yet we see though these be true de-grees, Samuel teacheth us that they are all of anature, when there is once a receding from theWord of God; for so he saith, Quasi peccatumariolandi est repugnare, et quasi scelus idololatriænolle acquiescere.

(25) These things I have passed over so briefly

because I can report no deficiency concerningthem: for I can find no space or ground thatlieth vacant and unsown in the matter of divin-ity, so diligent have men been either in sowingof good seed, or in sowing of tares.

Thus have I made as it were a small globe ofthe intellectual world, as truly and faithfully asI could discover; with a note and description ofthose parts which seem to me not constantlyoccupate, or not well converted by the labour ofman. In which, if I have in any point recededfrom that which is commonly received, it hathbeen with a purpose of proceeding in melius,and not in aliud; a mind of amendment andproficiency, and not of change and difference.For I could not be true and constant to the ar-gument I handle if I were not willing to go be-yond others; but yet not more willing than tohave others go beyond me again: which maythe better appear by this, that I have pro-

pounded my opinions naked and unarmed, notseeking to preoccupate the liberty of men’sjudgments by confutations. For in anythingwhich is well set down, I am in good hope thatif the first reading move an objection, the sec-ond reading will make an answer. And inthose things wherein I have erred, I am sure Ihave not prejudiced the right by litigious ar-guments; which certainly have this contraryeffect and operation, that they add authority toerror, and destroy the authority of that which iswell invented. For question is an honour andpreferment to falsehood, as on the other side itis a repulse to truth. But the errors I claim andchallenge to myself as mine own. The good, itany be, is due tanquam adeps sacrificii, to be in-censed to the honour, first of the Divine Maj-esty, and next of your Majesty, to whom onearth I am most bounden.