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Vol 3: The Classics
ESSAYS, CIVIL AND MORAL
AND
THE NEW ATLANTIS
BY FRANCIS BACON
AREOPAGITICA
AND
TRACTATE ON EDUCATION
BY JOHN MILTON
RELIGIO MEDICI
BY SIR THOMAS BROWNE
WITH INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES
VOLUME 3
P F COLLIER & SON
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1909
By p. F. Collier & Son
Designed, Printed, and Bound at
CljE Collier |5ress, J&tta gorb
CONTENTS
PACK
Essays or Counsels — Civil and Moral 7
I. Of Truth 7
II. Of Death 9
III. Of Unity in Religion ii
IV. Of Revenge iS
V. Of Adversity i6
VI. Of Simulation and Dissimulation 17
VII. Of Parents and Children 20
VIII. Of Marriage and Single Life 22
IX. Of Envy 23
X. Of Love 28
XI. Of Great Place 29
XII. Of Boldness 33
XIII. Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature 34
XIV. Of Nobility 36
XV. Of Seditions and Troubles 38
XVI. Of Atheism 44
XVII. Of Superstition 47
XVIII. Of Travel 48
XIX. Of Empire 50
XX. Of Counsel 55
XXI. Of Delays 59
XXII. Of Cunning 60
XXIII. Of Wisdom for a Man's Self 63
XXIV. Of Innovations 65
XXV. Of Dispatch 66
XXVI. Of Seeming Wise 67
XXVII. Of Friendship 69
XXVIII. Of Expense 75
XXIX. Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates . . 76
XXX. Of Regiment of Health 85
XXXI. Of Suspicion 86
XXXII. Of Discourse 87
XXXIII. Of Plantations 89
XXXIW Of Riches 92
XXX\'. Of Prophecies 95
XXXVl. Of Ambition 98
1
Hc ni I
2 CONTENTS
PAGE
XXXVII. Of Masques and Triumphs , loo
XXX\III. Of Nature in Men loi
XXXIX. Of Custom and Education 103
XL. Of Fortune 104
XLI. Of Usury 106
XLII. Of Youth and Age no
XLIII. Of Beauty in
XLIV. Of Deformity 112
XLV. Of Building 114
XL\I. Of Gardens 117
XL\'II. Of Negotiating 123
XLV'III. Of Followers and Friends 125
XLIX. Of Suitors 126
L. Of Studies 128
LI. Of Faction 129
LII. Of Ceremonies and Aspects 131
LIII. Of Praise 132
LIV. Of Vain-glory 134
LV. Of Honor and Reputation 135
LVI. Of Judicature 137
LVII. Of Anger 141
LVIII. Of Vicissitude of Things 143
LIX. Of Fame 147
The New Atlantis 151
Aeeopagitica 193
Order of the Long Parliament for the Regulating of Printing,
14 June, 1643 195
A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing 199
Milton's Tractate on Education 245
Religio Medici 261
The First Part 265
The Second Part 3*4
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Francis Bacon, son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper of
the Great Seal to Queen Elizabetli, was born in London on
January 22, 1361. He entered Trinity College, Cambridge, at the
age of twelve, and in 1376 he interrupted the law studies he had
begun in that year, to go to France in the train of the English
Ambassador, Sir Amyas Paulet. He wa>s called home in 1379 by
the death of his father; and, having been left with but a small
income, he resumed the study of law, and became a barrister in
1582. Two years later he entered the House of Commons, and
began to take an active part in politics.
From an early age Bacon had been interested in science, and
it was in the pursuit of scientific truth that his heart lay. He
conceived, however, that for the achievement of the great re-
sults at which he aimed, money and prestige were necessary;
and he worked hard for both. He was a candidate for several
ofRces of state during Elizabeth's reign, but gained no substantial
promotion, and was often in hard straits for money. He re-
ceived aid from influential patrons, notably the Earl of Essex;
and his desertion of this nobleman, with the part he took in his
prosecution for treason, is regarded as one of the chief blots on
his personal record.
Shortly after the accession of James I, Bacon was knighted; in
1606 he married the daughter of an alderman; and in the follow-
ing year he received the appointment of Solicitor-General, the
first important step in the career zvhich culminated in the Lord
Chancellorship in 1618. In the latter year he was raised to the
peerage as Baron Verulam, and in 1621 he became Viscount St.
Albans. He was now at the summit of his public career; but
within four months the crash came, and he was convicted of
bribery, and sentenced by the House of Lords to the loss of all
his offices, to imprisonment, and to the payment of a large fine.
He died in retirement on April g, 1626. leaving no children.
Bacon's most important writings in science and philosophy
are parts of a vast work which he left unfinished, his "Magna
Instauratio." The first fart of this, the "De Augmentis," is an
enlargement in Latin of his book on "The Advancement of
3
4 INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Learning," in which he takes account of the progress in human
knowledge to his oivn day. The second part is the famous
"Novum Organum," or "New Instrument" ; a description of the
method of induction ba^sed on observation and experiment, by
which he believed future progress was to be made. The later
parts consist chiefly of fragmentary collections of tiatural phe-
nomena, and tentative suggestions of the philosophy which zuas
to result from the application of his method to the facts of the
physical world.
Bacon's own experiments are of slight scientific value, nor zvas
he very familiar with some of the most important discoveries of
his own day; but the fundamental principles laid dozvn by him
form the foundation of modern scientific method.
Bacon's writings are by no meatps confined to the field of
natural philosophy. He wrote a notable "History of Henry
l^U" ; many pamphlets on current political topics; "The New
Atlantis," an unfinished account of an ideal state; "The Wis-
dom of the Ancients," a series of interpretations of classical
myths in an allegorical sense; legal "Maxims" ; and much else.
But by far his most popular work is his "Essays," published
in three editions in his lifetime, the first containing ten essays,
in 1597; the second, with thirty-eight, in 1612; and the third,
as here printed, in 1625. These richly condensed utterances on
fnen and affairs show in the field of conduct something of the
same stress on the useful and the expedient as appears in his
scientific work. But it is unjust to regard the "Essays" as rep-
resenting Bacon's ideal of conduct. They are rather a collec-
tion of shrewd observations as to how, in fact, men do get on
in life ; human nature, not as it ought to be, but as it is. Some-
times, but by no means always, they consider certain kinds of
behavior from a moral standpoint; oftener they are frankly
pieces of worldly wisdom; again, they show Bacon's ideas of
state policy; still again, as in the essay "Of Gardens," they
show us his private enthusiasms. They cover an immense va-
riety of topics; they are written in a clear^conci>se, at times almost
epigrammatic, style; they are packed with matter; and now, as
when he wrote them, they, to use his own zvords of them, "come
home to men's business and bosoms."
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY
To the Right Honorable my very good Lo. the Duke of
Buckingham his Grace, Lo. High Admiral of England.
Excellent Lo.
Solomon says, A good name z's as a precious ointment; and I
assure myself, such will your Grace's name be with posterity.
For your fortune and merit both have been eminent. And you
have planted things that are like to last. I do now publish my
Essays; which, of all my other works, have been most current;
for that, as it seems, they come home to men's business and
bosoms. I have enlarged them both in number and weight ; so
that they are indeed a new work. I thought it therefore agree-
able to my affection and obligation to your Grace, to prefix your
name before them, both in English and in Latin. For I do con-
ceive that the Latin volume of them (being in the universal
language) may last as long as books last. My Instauration I
dedicated to the King ; my History of Henry the Seventh (which
I have now also translated into Latin), and my portions of
Natural History, to the Prince; and these I dedicate to your
Grace ; being of the best fruits that by the good increase which
God gives to my pen and labors I could yield. God lead your
Grace by the hand.
Your Grace's most obliged and
faithful servant,
Fr. St. Alban.
ESSAYS OR COUNSELS
CIVIL AND MORAL
I
OF TRUTH
"TJTT'HAT is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not
^/|/ stay for an answer. Certainly there be that de-
light in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix
a belief; affecting^ free-will in thinking, as well as in acting.
And though the sects of philosophers of that kind' be gone,
yet there remain certain discoursing^ wits which are of
the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them
as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the diffi-
culty and labor which men take in finding out of truth, nor
again that when it is found it imposeth upon'' men's thoughts,
that doth bring lies in favor ; but a natural though corrupt
love of the lie itself. One of the later school" of the Grecians
examineth the matter and is at a stand to think what should
be in it, that men should love lies, where neither they make
for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with the
merchant; but for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell ; this same
truth is a naked and open day-light, that doth not show the
masks and mummeries and triumphs of the world, half so
stately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps
come to the price of a pearl, that showeth best by day; but
it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that
showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever
add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken
out of men's minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valu-
ations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would
* Loving. "The Skeptics. " T.ntin, windy and rambling.
* Restricts. ^ Lucian.
8 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things,
full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to them-
selves ?
One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy vinnni
dccmonum [devils'-wme], because it fiileth the imagination;
and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. But it is not
the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that
sinketh in and settleth in it, that doth the hurt, such as we
spake of before. But howsoever these thmgs are thus in men's
depraved judgments and affections, yet truth, which only
doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which
is the love-makmg or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth,
which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which
is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.
The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was
the light of the sense; the last was the light of reason; and
his sabbath work ever since is the illumination of his Spirit.
First he breathed light upon the face of the matter or chaos;
then he breathed light into the face of man; and still he
breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen.
The poet° that beautified the sect' that was otherwise in-
ferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well : It is a pleasure
to stand upon the shore and to see ships tossed upon the sea;
a pleasure to stand in the zvindozv of a castle and to see a
battle and the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure
is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of
truth (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is
always clear and serene), and to see the errors and wan-
derings and mists and tempests in the vale below: so always
that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling or
pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's
mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the
poles of truth.
To pass from theological and philosophical truth to the
truth of civil business ; it will be acknowledged even by those
that practise it not, that clear and round dealing is the
honor of man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is like
alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal
work the better, but it embaseth it. For these winding and
* Lucretius. ' Epicureans.
OF DEATH 9
crooked courses are the goings of the serpent; which goeth
basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no
vice that doth so cover a man with shame as to be found
false and perfidious. And therefore Montaigne saith prettily,
when he inquired the reason why the word of the lie should
be such a disgrace and such an odious charge. Saith he,
If it he well weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to
say, as that he is brave towards God and a coward towards
men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surely
the wickedness of falsehood and breach of faith cannot
possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it shall be the last
peal to call the judgments of God upon the generations of
men ; it being foretold that when Christ cometh, he shall not
find faith upoti the earth.
II
OF DEATH
Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark ; and
as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so
is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the
wages of sin and passage to another world, is holy and
religious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature,
is weak. Yet in religious meditations there is sometimes
mixture of vanity and of superstition. You shall read in
some of the friars' books of mortification, that a man
should think with himself what the pain is if he have but
his finger's end pressed or tortured, and thereby imagine
what the pains of death are, when the whole body is cor-
rupted and dissolved ; when many times death passeth with
less pain than the torture of a limb ; for the most vital parts
are not the quickest of sense. And by him that spake^ only
as a philosopher and natural man, it was well said, Pompa
mortis magis ferret, qiiam mors ipsa [It is the accompani-
ments of death that are frightful rather than death itself].
Groans and convulsions, and a discolored face, and friends
weeping, and blacks,^ and obsequies, and the like, show death
terrible. It is worthy the observing, that there is no passion
1 Seneca. ^ Mourning garments.
10 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
in the mind of man so weak, but it mates' and masters the
fear of death; and therefore death is no such terrible enemy
when a man hath so many attendants about him that can
win the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death ; love
slights it ; honor aspireth to it ; grief flieth to it ; fear pre-
occupateth* it ; nay, we read," after Otho the emperor had
slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affections) pro-
voked many to die, out of mere compassion to their sov-
ereign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay. Seneca
adds niceness* and satiety: Cogiia quamdiu eadem feccr'is;
mori velle, non tantum fortis aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus
potest [Think how long thou hast done the same thing; not
only a valiant man or a miserable man, but also a fastidious
man is able to wish for death]. A man would die. though
he were neither valiant nor miserable, only upon a weariness
to do the same thing so oft over and over. It is no less
worthy to observe, how little alteration in good spirits the
approaches of death make ; for they appear to be the same
men till the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compli-
ment; Livia, conjugii nostri mentor, vive et vale [Farewell.
Livia ; and forget not the days of our marriage]. Tiberius
in dissimulation ; as Tacitus saith of him. Jam Tiberium vires
et corpus, non dissiunilatio, deserebaut [His powers of
body were gone, but his power of dissimulation still re--
mained]. Vespasian in a jest, sitting upon the stool; Ut
puto dens Ho [As I think, I am becoming a god]. Galba
with a sentence; Feri, si ex re sit popuH Roinani [Strike, if
it be for the good of Rome] ; holding forth his neck. Sep-
timius Severus in despatch; Adcste si quid mihi restat agen-
dum [Be at hand, if there is anything more for me to do].
And the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed too much cost
upon death, and by their great preparations made it appear
more fearful. Better saith he,'' qui finem vitce extrcmum-
inter munera ponat nalurce [who accounts the close of life
as one of the benefits of nature]. It is as natural to die as
to be born ; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as
painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is
like one that is wounded in hot blood ; who, for the time,
" Conquers. ■* Anticipates. * In Plutarch's " Lives."
* Fastidiousness. ' Juvenal.
OF UNITY IN RELIGION 11
scarce feels the hurt; and therefore a mind fixed and bent
upon somewhat that is good doth avert the dolers of death.
But, above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is, Nunc
dimittis [Now lettest thou . . . depart] ; when a man hath
obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath this
also; that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth
envy. Extinctus amabitur idem [The same man that was
envied while he lived, shall be loved when he is gone].
Ill
OF UNITY IN RELIGION
Religion being the chief band of human society, it is a
happy thing when itself is well contained within the true
band of unity. The quarrels and divisions about religion
were evils unknown to the heathen. The reason was be-
cause the religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites
and ceremonies than in any constant belief. For you may
imagine what kind of faith theirs was, when the chief
doctors and fathers of their church were the poets. But
the true God hath this attribute, that he is a jealous God;
and therefore his worship and religion will endure no
mixture nor partner. We shall therefore speak a few
words concerning the unity of the church ; what are the
fruits thereof; what the bounds; and what the means.
The fruits of unity (next unto the well pleasing of God,
which is all in all) are two: the one towards those that are
without the church, the other towards those that are within.
For the former; it is certain that heresies and schisms are of
all others the greatest scandals ; yea, more than corruption
of manners. For as in the natural body a wound or solution
of continuity is worse than a corrupt humor; so in the spir-
itual. So that nothing doth so much keep men out of the
church, and drive men out of the church, as breach of
unity. And therefore, whensoever it cometh to that pass,
that one saith Ecce in deserto [Lo ! in the desert], another
saith Ecce in penetralibus' [Lo ! in the sanctuary] ; that is,
' Matthew xxiv. 26.
12 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
when some men seek Christ in the conventicles of heretics,
and others in an outward face of a church, that voice had
need continually to sound in men's ears, Nolite exire^ — Go
not out. The doctor of the Gentiles^ (the propriety of
whose vocation drew him to have a special care of those
without) saith, // ati heathen come in, and hear you speak
with several tongues, will he not say that you are mad?
And certainly it is little better, when atheists and profane
persons do hear of so many discordant and contrary opinions
in religion ; it doth avert them from the church, and maketh
them to sit down in the chair of the scorners. It is but a
light thing to be vouched in so serious a matter, but yet it
expresseth well the deformity. There is a master of scoffing,'
that in his catalogue of books of a feigned library sets down
this title of a book, The Morris-Dance of Heretics. For
indeed every sect of them hath a diverse posture or cringe
by themselves, which cannot but move derision in worldlings
and depraved politics,* who are apt to contemn holy things.
As for the fruit towards those that are within ; it is peace ;
which containeth infinite blessings. It establisheth faith; it
kindleth charity ; the outward peace of the church distilleth
into peace of conscience ; and it turneth the labors of writing
and reading of controversies into treaties" of mortification
and devotion.
Concerning the bounds of unity ; the true placing of them
importeth exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes.
For to certain zealants* all speech of pacification is odious.
Is it peace, Jehu? What hast thou to do with peace? turn
thee behind me.'' Peace is not the matter, but following and
party. Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm per-
sons think they may accommodate points of religion by
middle ways, and taking part of both, and witty* reconcile-
ments ; as if they would make an arbitrament between God
and man. Both these extremes are to be avoided ; which
will be done, if the league of Christians penned by our Savior
himself were in the two cross clauses thereof soundly and
plainly expounded: He that is not with us is against us; and
again, He that is not against us is zcith us; that is, if the
' Matthew xxiv. 26. ' St. Paul. ' Rabelais. * Politicians.
• Treatises. * Zealots. ^ 2 Kings ix. 18, 19. ' Ingenious.
OF UNITY IN RELIGION 13
points fundamental and of substance in religion were truly
discerned and distinguished from points not merely of faith,
but of opinion, order, or good intention. This is a thing may
seem to many a matter trivial," and done already. But if it
were done less partially, it would be embraced more gen-
erally.
Of this I may give only this advice, according to my small
model. Men ought to take heed of rending God's church
by two kinds of controversies. The one is, when the matter
of the point controverted is too small and light, not worth
the heat and strife about it, kindled only by contradiction.
For as it is noted by one of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed
had no seam, but the church's vesture was of divers colors:
whereupon he saith, In veste varietas sit. scissura non sit^"
[Let there be variety in the garment, but let there be no
division] ; they be two things, unity and uniformity. The
other is, when the matter of the point controverted is great,
but it is driven to an over-great subtilty and obscurity; so
that it becometh a thing rather ingenious than substantial.
A man that is of judgment and understanding shall some-
times hear ignorant men differ, and know well within himself
that those which so differ mean one thing, and yet they them-
selves would never agree. And if it come so to pass in that
distance of judgment which is between man and man, shall
we not think that God above, that knows the heart, doth
not discern that frail men in some of their contradictions
intend the same thing; and accepteth of both? The nature
of such controversies is excellently expressed by St. Paul
in the warning and precept that he giveth concerning the
same, Devita prof anas vociim novi fates, et oppositiones falsi
noniinis scientice [Avoid profane novelties of terms, and
oppositions of science falsely so called]. Men create op-
positions which are not; and put them into new terms so
fixed, as whereas the meaning ought to govern the term, the
term in effect governeth the meaning. There be also two
false peaces or unities: the one, when the peace is grounded
but upon an implicit" ignorance; for all colors will agree
in the dark : the other, when it is pieced up upon a direct
admission of contraries in fundamental points. For truth
» Commonplace. lo St. Augustine i' Entangled.
14 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
and falsehood, in such things, are like the iron and clay in
the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image; they may cleave, but
they will not incorporate.
Concerning the means of procuring unity; men must be-
ware, that in the procuring or muniting"' of religious unity
they do not dissolve and deface the laws of charity and of
human society. There be two swords amongst Christians,
the spiritual and temporal ; and both have their due office
and place in the maintenance of religion. But we may not
take up the third sword, which is Mahomet's sword, or
like unto it; that is, to propagate religion by wars or by
sanguinary persecutions to force consciences ; except it be
in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermixture of
practice" against the state; much less to nourish seditions;
to authorize conspiracies and rebellions ; to put the sword into
the people's hands ; and the like ; tending to the subversion
of all government, which is the ordinance of God. For this
is but to dash the first table" against the second; and so
to consider men as Christians, as we forget that they are
men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga-
memnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own
daughter, exclaimed:
" Tantum Religio potuit suadere malorum "
[To such ill actions Religion could persuade a man]. What
would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in
France," or the powder treason of England? He would
have been seven times more Epicure and atheist than he was.
For as the temporal sword is to be drawn with great circum-
spection in cases of religion ; so it is a thing monstrous to put
it into the hands of the common people. Let that be left
unto the Anabaptists, and other furies. It was great blas-
phemy when the devil said. / zvill ascend and be like the
Highest: but it is greater blasphemy to personate God, and
bring him in saying, / zvill descend, and be like the prince
of darkness: and what is better, to make the cause of religion
to descend to the cruel and execrable actions of murthering
princes, butchery of people, and subversion of states and
"Fortifying. ^■''Plotting. i* Of the commandments. Exodus xxxii,
15, 16; xxxiv. i-s, 29. 15 On St. Bartholomew's Day, 1572.
OF REVENGE 15
governments? Surely this is to bring down the Holy Ghost,
instead of the likeness of a dove, in the shape of a vulture
or raven ; and set out' of the bark of a Christian church
a flag of a bark of pirates and assassins. Therefore it is
most necessary that the church by doctrine and decree,
princes by their sword, and all learnings, both Christian and
moral, as by their Mercury rod,^*' do damn and send to hell
for ever those facts" and opinions tending to the support
of the same; as hath been already in good part done. Surely
in counsels concerning religion, that counsel of the apostle'*
would be prefixed, Ira hominis non implct justitiam Dei
[The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God].
And it was a notable observation of a wise father, and no
less ingenuously confessed ; that those zvhich held and per-
suaded pressure of consciences, were commonly interessed
therein themselves for their own ends.
IV
OF REVENGE
Revenge is a kind of wild justice; which the more man's
nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. For
as for the first wrong, it doth but offend the law ; but the
revenge of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Cer-
tainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy;
but in passing it over, he is superior; for it is a prince's
part to pardon. And Solomon, I am sure, saith, It is the
glory of a man to pass by an offence. That which is past
is gone, and irrevocable ; and wise men have enough to do
with things present and to come ; therefore they do but trifle
with themselves, that labor in past matters. There is no man
doth a wrong for the wrong's sake ; but thereby to purchase
himself profit, or pleasure, or honor, or the like. Therefore
why should I be angry with a man for loving himself better
than me? And if any man should do wrong merely out of
ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn or briar, which
'• With which Mercury summoned souls to the other world.
" Deeds. ^ St. James.
16 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
prick and scratch, because they can do no other. The most
tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which there
is no law to remedy; but then let a man take heed the
revenge be such as there is no law to punish ; else a man's
enemy is still before hand, and it is two for one. Some,
when they take revenge, are desirous the party should know
whence it cometh. This is the more generous. For the
delight seemeth to be not so much in doing the hurt as in
making the party repent. But base and crafty cowards are
like the arrow that flieth in the dark. Cosmus, duke of
Florence, had a desperate saying against perfidious or neg-
lecting friends, as if those wrongs were unpardonable ; You
shall read (saith he) that wc are commanded to forgive our
enemies; but you never read that we are commanded to for-
give our friends. But yet the spirit of Job was in a better
tune: Shall we (saith he) take good at God's hands, and not
he content to take evil also? And so of friends in a pro-
portion. This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge
keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal
and do well. Public revenges are for the most part for-
tunate ; as that for the death of Caesar ; for the death of Per-
tinax ; for the death of Henry the Third of France ; and many
more. But in private revenges it is not so. Nay rather,
vindictive persons live the life of witches; who, as they
are mischievous, so end they infortunate.
V
OF ADVERSITY
It was a high speech of Seneca (after the manner of the
Stoics), that the good things which belong to prosperity are
to be wished; but the good things that belong to adversity
are to be admired. Bona rcriim secundarum optabilia; adver-
sarum mirabilia. Certainly if miracles be the command over
nature, they appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher
speech of his than the other (much too high for a heathen).
It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man, and
the security of a God. Vere magnum habere fragilitatem
OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 17
hominis, sccuritaton Dei. This would have done better in
poesy, where transcendences are more allowed. And the poets
indeed have been busy with it; for it is in effect the thing
which figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets,
which seemeth not to be without mystery; nay, and to have
some approach to the state of a Christian; that Hercules,
ivhcn he zvent to unbind Prometheus (by whom human nature
is represented), sailed the length of the great ocean in an
earthen pot or pitcher ; lively describing Christian resolution,
that saileth in the frail bark of the flesh through the waves
of the world. But to speak in a mean.^ The virtue of pros-
perity is temperance; the virtue of adversity is fortitude;
which in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is
the blessing of the Old Testament ; adversity is the blessing
of the New ; which carrieth the greater benediction, and the
clearer revelation of God's favor. Yet even in the Old
Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as
many hearse-like airs as carols ; and the pencil of the Holy
Ghost hath labored more in describing the afflictions of Job
that the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without
many fears and distastes ; and adversity is not without com-
forts and hopes. We see in needle-works and embroideries,
it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad" and
solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work
upon a lightsome ground: judge therefore of the pleasure
of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly virtue
is like precious odors, most fragrant when they are incensed
or crushed : for prosperity doth best discover^ vice, but ad-
versity doth best discover virtue.
VI
OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION
Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy or wisdom;
for it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know when
to tell truth, and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort
of politics that are the great dissemblers.
1 In moderation. ' Dark-colored. ^ Display.
18 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
Tacitus saith. Livia sorted zvell zv'ith the arts of her husband
and dissimulation of her son; attributing arts or policy to
Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiberius. And again, when
Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Vitel-
lius, he saith, JVe rise not against the piercing judgment of
Augustus, nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius.
These properties, of arts or policy and dissimulation or close-
ness, are indeed habits and faculties several, and to be distin-
guished. For if a man have that penetration of judgment
as he can discern what things are to be laid open, and what
to be secreted, and what to be showed at half lights, and
to whom and when (which indeed are arts of state and arts
of life, as Tacitus well calleth them), to him a habit of dis-
simulation is a hinderance and a poorness. But if a man
cannot obtain to that judgment, then it is left to him gener-
ally to be close, and a dissembler. For where a man cannot
choose or vary in particulars, there it is good to take the
safest and wariest way in general : like the going softly
by one that cannot well see. Certainly the ablest men that
ever were have had all an openness and frankness of dealing;
and a name of certainty and veracity ; but then they were like
horses well managed ;^ for they could tell passing well when to
stop or turn ; and at such times when they thought the case
indeed required dissimulation, if then they used it, it came
to pass that the former opinion spread abroad of their good
faith and clearness of dealing made them almost invisible.
There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man's
self. The first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy ; when a man
leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be
taken, what he is. The second, dissimulation, in the neg-
ative ; when a man lets fall signs and arguments, that he is
not that he is. And the third, simulation, in the affirmative;
when a man industriously and expressly feigns and pretends
to be that he is not.
For the first of these, secrecy; it is indeed the virtue of a
confessor. And assuredly the secret man heareth many con-
fessions. For who will open himself to a blab or a babbler?
But if a man be thought secret, it inviteth discovery; as the
more close air sucketh in the more open ; and as in confession
^ Trained.
OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION 19
the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a
man's heart, so secret men come to the knowledge of many
things in that kind; while men rather discharge their minds
than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are due
to secrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely,
as well in mind as body ; and it addeth no small reverence
to men's manners and actions, if they be not altogether open.
As for talkers and futile" persons, they are commonly vain
and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth,
will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down,
that an habit of secrecy is both politic and moral. And in
this part it is good that a man's face give his tongue leave to
speak. For the discovery of a man's self by the tracts^ of
his countenance is a great weakness and betraying ; by how
much it is many times more marked and believed than a
man's words.
For the second, which is dissimulation; it followeth many
times upon secrecy by a necessity ; so that he that will be
secret must be a dissembler in some degree. For men are
too cunning to suffer a man to keep an indifferent carriage
between both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance
on either side. They will so beset a man with questions,
and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an
absurd silence, he must show an inclination one way ; or if
he do not, they will gather as much by his silence as by his
speech. As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they
cannot hold out long. So that no man can be secret, except
he give himself a little scope of dissimulation ; which is, as
it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy.
But for the third degree, which is simulation and false
profession; that I hold more culpable, and less politic; except
it be in great and rare matters. And therefore a general
custom of simulation (which is this last degree) is a vice,
rising either of a natural falseness or fearfulness, or of a
mind that hath some main faults, which because a man must
needs disguise, it maketh him practise simulation in other
things, lest his hand should be out of ure.*
The great advantages of simulation and dissimulation are
three. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For
' Babbling. ' Lines, expression, * Practise.
20 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
where a man's intentions are published, it is an alarum
to call up all that are against them. The second is, to reserve
to a man's self a fair retreat. For if a man engage himself
by a manifest declaration, he must go through or take a fall.
The third is, the better to discover the mind of another.
For to him that opens himself men will hardly show them-
selves adverse; but will (fair^) let him go on, and turn their
freedom of speech to freedom of thought. And therefore
it is a good shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a lie and
■find a troth. As if there were no way of discovery but by
simulation. There be also three disadvantages, to set it even.
The first, that simulation and dissimulation commonly carry
with them a show of fearfulness, which in any business doth
spoil the feathers of round* flying up to the mark. The
second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many,
that perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him ; and makes
a man walk almost alone to his own ends. The third and
greatest is, that it depriveth a man of one of the most
principal instruments for action ; which is trust and belief.
The best composition and temperature^ is to have openness
in fame and opinion : secrecy in habit ; dissimulation in
seasonable use ; and a power to feign, if there be no remedy.
VII
OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN
The joys of parents are secret ; and so are their griefs
and fears. They cannot utter the one ; nor they will not utter
the other. Children sweeten labors ; but they make mis-
fortunes more bitter. They increase the cares of life; but
they mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity
by generation is common to beasts ; but memory, merit, and
noble works are proper to men. And surely a man shall see
the noblest works and foundations have proceeded from child-
less men ; which have sought to express the images of their
minds, where those of their bodies have failed. So the care
of posterity is most in them that have no posterity. They
6 Rather. * Straight. '^ Combination of qualities, temperament.
OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN 21
that are the first raisers of their houses are most indulgent
towards their children; beholding them as the continuance
not only of their kind but of their work; and so both children
and creatures.
The difference in affection of parents towards their several
children is many times unequal; and sometimes unworthy;
especially in the mother; as Solomon saith, A icise son rc-
joiccth the father, hut an ungracious son shames the mother.
A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one
or two of the eldest respected, and the youngest made wan-
tons ;^ but in the midst some that are as it were forgotten, who
many times nevertheless prove the best. The illiberality
of parents in allowance towards their children is an harm-
ful error; makes them base; acquaints them with shifts;
makes them sort^ with mean company; and makes them
surfeit more when they come to plenty. And therefore the
proof is best, when men keep their authority towards their
children, but not their purse. Men have a foolish manner
(both parents and schoolmasters and servants) in creating
and breeding an emulation between brothers during child-
hood, which many times sorteth^ to discord when they are
men, and disturbeth families. The Italians make little dif-
ference between children and nephews or near kinsfolks ; but
so they be of the lump, they care not though they pass not
through their own body. And, to say truth, in nature it is
much a like matter; insomuch that we see a nephew some-
times resembleth an uncle or a kinsman more than his own
parent; as the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes
the vocations and courses they mean their children should
take ; for then they are most flexible ; and let them not too
much apply themselves to the disposition of their children,
as thinking they will take best to that which they have most
mind to. It is true, that if the affection or aptness of the
children be extraordinary, then it is good not to cross it;
but generally the precept is good, optimum elige, suave et
facile illnd faciet consuefndo [choose the best — custom will
make it pleasant and easy]. Younger brothers are com-
monly fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder
are disinherited.
^ Spoiled. 2 Associate. ' Turns oitt.
22 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
VIII
OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE
He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to for-
tune ; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either
of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of
greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the
unmarried or childless men ; which both in affection and
means have married and endowed the public. Yet it were
great reason that those that have children should have
greatest care of future times; unto which they know they
must transmit their dearest pledges. Some there are. who
though they lead a single life, yet their thoughts do end with
themselves, and account future times impertinences.^ Nay,
there are some other that account wife and children but as
bills of charges. Nay more, there are some foolish rich cov-
etous men, that take a pride in having no children, because
they may be thought so much the richer. For perhaps they
have heard some talk, Such an one is a great rich man, and
another except to it. Yea, but he hath a great charge of chil-
dren; as if it were an abatement to his riches. But the most
ordinary cause of a single life is liberty, especially in certain
self-pleasing and humorous* minds, which are so sensible of
every restraint, as they will go near to think their girdles
and garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are
best friends, best masters, best servants ; but not always best
subjects; for they are light to run away; and almost all
fugitives are of that condition. A single life doth well with
churchmen ; for charity will hardly water the ground where
it must first fill a pool. It is indifferent for judges and magis-
trates ; for if they be facile and corrupt, you shall have a
servant five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find
the generals commonly in their hortatives put men in mind
of their wives and children ; and I think the despising of
marriage amongst the Turks maketh the vulgar soldier more
base. Certainly wife and children are a kind of discipline
of humanity; and single men, though they may be many
times more charitable, because their means are less exhaust,
i Not their affair. ^ Capricious.
OF ENVY 23
yet. on the other side, they are more cruel and hardhearted
(good to make severe inquisitors), because their tenderness
is not so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and
therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was
said of Ulysses, vetidam suam prcctiilit immortalitati [he pre-
ferred his old wife to immortality]. Chaste women are often
proud and froward, as presuming upop the merit of their
chastity. It is one of the best bonds both of chastity and
obedience in the wife, if she think her husband wise ; which
she will never do if she find him jealous. Wives are young
men's mistresses; companions for middle age; and old men's
nurses. So as a man may have a quarref to marry when
he will. But yet he* was reputed one of the wise men, that
made answer to the question, when a man should marry, —
A young man not yet, an elder man not at all. It is often
seen that bad husbands have very good wives; whether it
be that it raiseth the price of their husband's kindness when
it comes ; or that the wives take a pride in their patience.
But this never fails, if the bad husbands were of their own
choosing, against their friends' consent; for then they will
be sure to make good their own folly.
IX
OF ENVY
There be none of the affections which have been noted
to fascinate or bewitch, but love and envy. They both
have vehement wishes ; they frame themselves readily into
imaginations and suggestions ; and they come easily into
the eye, especially upon the presence of the objects; which
are the points that conduce to fascination, if any such thing
there be. We see likewise the Scripture calleth envy an evil
eye; and the astrologers call the evil influences of the stars
evil aspects; so that still there seemeth to be acknowledged,
in the act of envy, an ejaculation' or irradiation of the eye.
Nay some have been so curious as to note that the times when
the stroke or percussion of an envious eye doth most hurt
'Pretext. * Thales. ' Darting out.
24 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
are when the party envied is beheld in glory or triumph;
for that sets an edge upon envy : and besides, at such times
the spirits of the person envied do come forth most into the
outward parts, and so meet the blow.
But leaving these curiosities (though not unworthy to
be thought on in fit place), we will handle, what persons are
apt to envy others; what persons are most subject to be
envied themselves ; and what is the difference between public
and private envy.
A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever envieth virtue
in others. For men's minds will either feed upon their own
good or upon others' evil ; and who wafitcth the one will
prey upon the other ; and whoso is out of hope to attain to
another's virtue, will seek to come at even hand by de-
pressing another's fortune.
A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly envious.
For to know much of other men's matters cannot be because
all that ado may concern his own estate ; therefore it must
needs be that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking
upon the fortunes of others. Neither can he that mindeth
but his own business find much matter for envy. For envy is
a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not
keep home : Non est curiosus, qicin idem sit mclcvolus
[There is no curious man but has some malevolence to
quicken his curiosity].
Men of noble birth are noted to be envious towards new
men when they rise. For the distance is altered, and it is
like a deceit of the eye, that when others come on they think
themselves go back.
Deformed persons, and eunuchs, and old men, and bastards,
are envious. For he that cannot possibly mend his own
case will do what he can to impair another's ; except these
defects light upon a very brave and heroical nature, which
thinketh to make his natural wants part of his honor ; in
that it should be said, that an eunuch, or a lame man, did
such great matters; affecting the honor of a miracle: as it
was in Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamberlanes,
that were lame men.
The same is the case of men that rise after calamities and
misfortunes. For they are as m.en fallen out with the times;
OF ENVY 25
and think other men's harms a redemption of their own
sufferings.
They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity
and vain glory, are ever envious. For they cannot want
work; it being impossible but many in some one of those
things should surpass them. Which was the character of
Adrian the Emperor ; that mortally envied poets and painters
and artificers, in works wherein he had a vein to excel.
Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, and those
that have been bred together, are more apt to envy their
equals when they are raised. For it doth upbraid unto them
their own fortunes, and pointeth at them, and cometh oftener
into their remembrance, and incurreth" likewise more into
the note of others; and envy ever redoubleth from speech
and fame. Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant
towards his brother Abel, because when his sacrifice was
better accepted there was no body to look on. Thus much
for those that are apt to envy.
Concerning those that are more or less subject to envy:
First, persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced,
are less envied. For their fortune seemeth but due unto
them ; and no man envieth the payment of a debt, but re-
wards and liberality rather. Again, envy is ever joined
with the comparing of a man's self; and where there is no
comparison, no envy; and therefore kings are not envied
but by kings. Nevertheless it is to be noted that unworthy
persons are most envied at their first coming in, and after-
wards overcome it better; whereas contrariwise, persons of
worth and merit are most envied when their fortune con-
tinueth long. For by that time, though their virtue be the
same, yet it hath not the same lustre ; for fresh men grow
up that darken it.
Persons of noble blood are less envied in their rising.
For it seemeth but right done to their birth. Besides, there
seemeth not much added to their fortune ; and envy is as
the sunbeams, that beat hotter upon a bank or steep rising
ground, than upon a flat. And for the same reason those
that are advanced by degrees are less envied than those that
are advanced suddenly and per sal turn [at a bound].
" Runneth into.
26 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
Those that have joined with their honor great travels'
cares, or perils, are less subject to envy. For men think
that they earn their honors hardly, and pity them some-
times; and pity ever healeth envy. Wherefore you shall
observe that the more deep and sober sort of politic persons,*
in their greatness, are ever bemoaning themselves, what a
life they lead ; chanting a quanta patimur [how great things
do we suffer!]. Not that they feel it so, but only to abate
the edge of envy. But this is to be understood of business
that is laid upon men, and not such as they call unto them-
selves. For nothing increaseth envy more than an un-
necessary and ambitious engrossing of business. And noth-
ing doth extinguish envy more than for a great person to
preserve all other inferior officers in their full rights and
pre-eminences of their places. For by that means there be
so many screens between him and envy.
Above all, those are most subject to envy, which carry
the greatness of their fortunes in an insolent and proud
manner ; being never well but while they are showing how
great they are, either by outward pomp, or by triumphing
over all opposition or competition; whereas wise men will
rather do sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves some-
times of purpose to be crossed and overborne in things that
do not much concern them. Notwithstanding, so much is
true, that the carriage of greatness in a plain and open man-
ner (so it be without arrogancy and vain glory) doth draw less
envy than if it be in a more crafty and cunning fashion. For
in that course a man doth but disavow fortune ; and seemeth to
be conscious of his own want in worth ; and doth but teach
others to envy him.
Lastly, to conclude this part ; as we said in the beginning
that the act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so
there is no other cure of envy but the cure of witchcraft;
and that is, to remove the lof (as they call it) and to lay
it upon another. For which purpose, the wiser sort of great
persons bring in ever upon the stage somebody upon whom
to derive* the envy that would come upon themselves; some-
times upon ministers and servants ; sometimes upon col-
leagues and associates ; and the like ; and for that turn there
' Travails, labors. * Politicians. '- Spell. * Divert.
OF ENVY 27
are never wanting some persons of violent and undertaking
natures, who, so they may have power and business, will
take it at any cost.
Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good
in public envy, whereas in private there is none. For pub-
lic envy is as an ostracism, that eclipseth men when they
grow too great. And therefore it is a bridle also to great
ones, to keep them within bounds.
This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the
modern languages by the name of discontentment; of which
we shall speak in handling sedition. It is a disease in a
state like to infection. For as infection spreadeth upon that
which is sound, and tainteth it ; so when envy is gotten once
into a state, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, and
turneth them into an ill odor. And therefore there is little
won by intermingling of plausible' actions. For that doth
argue but a weakness and fear of envy, which hurteth so
much the more, as it is likewise usual in infections; which
if you fear them, you call them upon you.
This public envy seemeth to beat chiefly upon principal
officers or ministers, rather than upon kings and estates
themselves. But this is a sure rule, that if the envy upon
the minister be great, when the cause of it in him is small ;
or if the envy be general in a manner upon all the ministers
of an estate; then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon
the state itself. And so much of public envy or discontent-
ment, and the difference thereof from private envy, which
was handled in the first place.
We will add this in general, touching the affection of
envy ; that of all other affections it is the most importune
and continual. For of other affections there is occasion
given but now and then; and therefore it was well said,
Invidia festos dies non agit [Envy keeps no holidays] : for
it is ever working upon some or other. And it is also noted
that love and envy do make a man pine, which other affec-
tions do not, because they are not so continual. It is also
the vilest affection, and the most depraved; for which cause
it is the proper attribute of the devil, who is called the en-
vious man, that sozueth tares amongst the zvheat by night;
'' Praiseworthy.
28 THE ESSAYS OF FRANXIS BACON
as it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtilly, and
in the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is
the wheat.
X
OF LOVE
The stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man.
For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and
now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief;
sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury. You may
observe that amongst all the great and worthy persons
(whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent)
there is not one that hath been transported to the mad degree
of love : which shows that great spirits and great business
do keep out this weak passion. You must except neverthe-
less Marcus Antonius, the half partner of the empire of
Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir and lawgiver;
whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and inor-
dinate ; but the latter was an austere and wise man : and
therefore it seems (though rarely) that love can find en-
trance not only into an open heart, but also into a heart well
fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of
Epicurus, Satis magnum altei' altcri thcatrum sumiis [Each
is to another a theatre large enough] ; as if man, made for
the contemplation of heaven and all noble objects, should do
nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself a
subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the
eye; which was given him for higher purposes. It is a
strange thing to note the excess of this passion, and how
it braves the nature and value of things, by this; that the
speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but
in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas
it hath been well said that the arch-flatterer, with whom
all the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; cer-
tainly the lover is more. For there was never proud man
thought so absurdly well of himself as the lover doth cf
the person loved ; and therefore it was well said, That
it is impossible to love and to be zvise. Neither doth this
OF GREAT PLACE 29
weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved;
but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque.*
For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded either with
the reciproque or with an inward and secret contempt. By
how much the more men ought to beware of this passion,
which loseth not only other things, but itself ! As for the
other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them : that
he that preferred Helena quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas.
For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection
quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath his
floods in very times of weakness ; which are great prosperity
and great adversity ; though this latter hath been less ob-
served : both which times kindle love, and make it more
fervent, and therefore show it to be the child of folly. They
do best, who if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep
quarter;" and sever it wholly from their serious afYairs and
actions of life; for if it check'^ once with business, it
troubleth men's fortunes, and maketli men that they can no
ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but mar-
tial men are given to love : I think it is but as they are
given to wine ; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleas-
ures. There is in man's nature a secret inclination and
motion towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon
some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards
many, and maketh men become humane and charitable ; as
it is seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind;
friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and
embaseth it.
XI
OF GREAT PLACE
Men in great place are thrice servants : servants of the
sovereign or state ; servants of fame ; and servants of busi-
ness. So as they have no freedom ; neither in their persons,
nor in their actions, nor in their times. It is a strange
desire, to seek power and to lose liberty : or to seek power
over others and to lose power over a man's self. The
1 Mutual. - Its own place. " Interfere.
30 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
rising unto place is laborious ; and by pains men come to
greater pains ; and it is sometimes base ; and by indignities
men come to dignities. The standing is slippery, and the re-
gress is either a downfall, or at least an eclipse, which is a
melancholy thing. Ciim non sis qui fueris, non esse cur velis
vivere [When a man feels that he is no longer what he was,
he has no reason to live longer]. Nay, retire men cannot
when they would, neither will they when it were reason ;
but are impatient of privateness, even in age and sickness,
which require the shadow; like old townsmen, that will be
still sitting at their street door, though thereby they offer
age to scorn. Certainly great persons had need to borrow
other men's opinions, to think themselves happy ; for if they
judge by their own feeling, they cannot find it; but if they
think with themselves what other men think of them, and
that other men would fain be as they are, then they are
happy as it were by report; when perhaps they find the con-
trary within. For they are the first that find their own
griefs, though they be the last that find their own faults.
Certainly men in great fortunes are strangers to themselves,
and while they are in the puzzle of business they have no
time to tend their health either of body or mind. //// mors
gravis incubat, qui notus nimis oinnibus. ignotus moritur sihi
[It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to every-
body else, and still unknown to himself]. In place there is
license to do good and evil ; whereof the latter is a curse :
for in evil the best condition is not to will; the second, not
to can. But power to do good is the true and lawful end of
aspiring. For good thoughts (though God accept them) yet
towards men are little better than good dreams, except they
be put in act ; and that cannot be without power and place,
as the vantage and commanding ground. Merit and good
works is the end of man's motion; and conscience of the
same is the accomplishment of man's rest. For if a man can
be partaker of God's theatre,^ he shall likewise be partaker
of God's rest. Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera quce
fecerunt manus sua;, vidit quod omnia esscnt bona nimis
[And God turned to look upon the works which his hands
had made, and saw that all were very good] ; and then the
- What God saw.
OF GREAT PLACE 31
sabbath. In the discharge of thy place set before thee the
best examples; for imitation is a globe" of precepts. And
after a time set before thee thine own example ; and ex-
amine thyself strictly whether thou didst not best at first.
Neglect not also the examples of those that have carried
themselves ill in the same place ; not to set off thyself by
taxing^ their memory, but to direct thyself what to avoid.
Reform therefore, without bravery* or scandal of former
times and persons ; but yet set it down to thyself as well to
create good precedents as to follow them. Reduce things
to the first institution, and observe wherein and how they
have degenerate ; but yet ask counsel of both times ; of the
ancient time, what is best ; and of the latter time, what is
fittest. Seek to make thy course regular, that men may
know beforehand what they may expect ; but be not too
positive and peremptory ; and express thyself well when thou
digressest from thy rule. Preserve the right of thy place ;
but stir not questions of jurisdiction ; and rather assume
thy right in silence and dc facto [from the fact], than voice
it with claims and challenges. Preserve likewise the rights
of inferior places ; and think it more honor to direct in chief
than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps and advices
touching the execution of thy place ; and do not drive away
such as bring thee information, as meddlers ; but accept of
them in good part. The vices of authority are chiefly four:
delays, corruption, roughness, and facility.^ For delays :
give easy access ; keep times appointed ; go through with that
which is in hand, and interlace not business but of necessity.
For corruption : do not only bind thine own hands or thy
servants' hands from taking, but bind the hands of suitors
also from offering. For integrity used doth the one; but
integrity professed, and with a manifest detestation of brib-
ery, doth the other. And avoid not only the fault, but the
suspicion. Whosoever is found variable, and changeth mani-
festly without manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption.
Therefore always when thou changest thine opinion or
course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together with the
reasons that move thee to change ; and do not think to steal*
- Complete body. ' Censuring. * Boastfulness. ^ Being easily led.
8 Do secretly.
32 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
it. A servant or a favorite, if he be inward, and no other
apparent cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way
to close" corruption. For roughness : it is a needless cause
of discontent : severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth
hate. Even reproofs from authority ought to be grave, and
not taunting. As for facility :^ it is worse than bribery.
For bribes come but now and then; but if importunity or
idle respects^ lead a man, he shall never be without. As
Solomon saith. To respect persons is not good; for such a
man ivill transgress for a piece of bread. It is most true
that was anciently spoken, A place showeth the man. And
it showeth some to the better, and some to the worse. Om-
nium consensu capax imperii, nisi imperasset [A man whom
every body would have thought fit for empire if he had not
been emperor], saith Tacitus of Galba; but of Vespasian
he saith. Solus imperantimn, Vespasianus mutatus in melius
[He was the only emperor whom the possession of power
changed for the better] ; though the one was meant of
sufficiency, the other of manners and affection. It is an
assured sign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honor
amends. For honor is, or should be. the place of virtue;
and as in nature things move violently to their place and
calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, in au-
thority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by
a winding stair ; and if there be factions, it is good to side a
man's self whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himself
when he is placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly
and tenderly ; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will sure be
paid when thou art gone. If thou have colleagues, respect
them, and rather call them when they look not for it, than
exclude them when they have reason to look to be called.
Be not too sensible or too remembering of thy place in con-
versation and private answers to suitors ; but let it rather
be said, IVhen he sits in place he is another man.
' Being easily led. " Secret. * Considerations.
OF BOLDNESS 33
XII
OF BOLDNESS
It is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise
man's consideration. Question was asked of Demosthenes,
what zvas the chief part of an orator? he answered, action;
what next? action; what next again? action. He said it
that knew it best, and had by nature himself no advantage
in that he commended. A strange thing, that that part of
an orator which is but superficial, and rather the virtue of
a player, should be placed so high, above those other noble
parts of invention, elocution, and the rest ; nay almost alone,
as if it were all in all. But the reason is plain. There is in
human nature generally more of the fool than of the wise;
and therefore those faculties by which the foolish part of
men's minds is taken are most potent. Wonderful like is the
case of boldness in civil business : what first ? boldness ; what
second and third ? boldness. And yet boldness is a child of
ignorance and baseness^ far inferior to other parts. But
nevertheless it doth fascinate and bind hand and foot those
that are either shallow in judgment or weak in courage,
which are the greatest part ; yea and prevaileth with wise
men at weak times. Therefore we see it hath done wonders
in popular states; but with senates and princes less; and
more ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into action
than soon after; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise.
Surely as there are mountebanks^ for the natural body, so
are there mountebanks for the politic body ; men that un-
dertake great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two
or three experiments, but want the grounds of science, and
therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fellow
many times do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the
people believe that he would call an hill to him, and from
the top of it offer up his prayers, for the observers of his
law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill to
come to him, again and again ; and when the hill stood still,
he was never a whit abashed, but said, // the hill zvill not
come to Mahomet, Mahomet ivill go to the hill. So these
1 Quacks.
HC III 2
34 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCTS BACON
men, when they have promised great matters and failed
most shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection of bold-
ness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no
more ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, bold persons
are a sport to behold ; nay and to the vulgar also, boldness
has somewhat of the ridiculous. For if absurdity be the
subject of laughter, doubt you not but great boldness is
seldom without some absurdity. Especially it is a sport to
see, when a bold fellow is out of countenance; for that
puts his face into a most shrunken and wooden posture ; as
needs it must; for in bashfulness the spirits do a little go
and come; but with bold men, upon like occasion, they stand
at a stay ; like a stale at chess, where it is no mate, but yet
the game cannot stir. But this last were fitter for a satire
than for a serious observation. This is well to be weighed;
that boldness is ever blind; for it seeth not dangers and in-
conveniences. Therefore it is ill in counsel, good in exe-
cution ; so that the right use of bold persons is, that they
never command in chief, but be seconds, and under the
direction of others. For in counsel it is good to see dangers;
and in execution not to see them, except they be very great.
XIII
OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE
I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of the weal
of men, which is that the Grecians call philanthropia; and
the word humanity (as it is used) is a little too light to
express it. Goodness I call the habit, and goodness of
nature the inclination. This of all virtues and dignities of
the mind is the greatest; being the character of the Deity:
and without it man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing;
no better than a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the
theological virtue charity, and admits no excess, but error.
The desire of power in excess caused the angels to fall; the
desire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall : but in
charity there is no excess ; neither can angel nor man come
in danger by it. The inclination to goodness is imprinted
OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE 35
deeply in the nature of man; insomuch that if it issue not
towards men, it will take unto other living creatures; as it
is seen in the Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are
kind to beasts, and give alms to dogs and birds; insomuch
as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in Constantinople
had like to have been stoned for gagging in a waggishness
a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of goodness
or charity may be committed. The Italians have an un-
gracious proverb, Tanto buon che val niente [5o good, that
he is good for nothing]. And one of the doctors of Italy,
Nicholas Machiavel, had the confidence to put in writing,
almost in plain terms, That the Christian faith had given
up good men in prey to those that are tyrannical and unjust.
Which he spake, because indeed there was never law or
sect or opinion did so much magnify goodness as the
Christian religion doth. Therefore, to avoid the scandal
and the danger both, it is good to take knowledge of the
errors of an habit so excellent. Seek the good of other men,
but be not in bondage to their faces or fancies; for that is
but facility or softness; which taketh an honest mind pris-
oner. Neither give thou ^sop's cock a gem, who would be
better pleased and happier if he had had a barley-corn.
The example of God teacheth the lesson truly: He sendeth
his rain and maketh his sun to shine upon the just and unjust;
but he doth not rain wealth nor shine honor and virtues,
upon men equally. Common benefits are to be communicate
with all ; but peculiar benefits with choice. And beware how
in making the portraiture thou breakest the pattern. For
divinity maketh the love of ourselves the pattern ; the love
of our neighbors but the portraiture. Sell all thou hast, and
give it to the poor, and follow me: but sell not all thou hast,
except thou come and follow me; that is, except thou have
a vocation wherein thou mayest do as much good with little
means as with great; for otherwise in feeding the streams
thou driest the fountain. Neither is there only a habit of
goodness, directed by right reason ; but there is in some
men, even in nature, a disposition towards it ; as on the
other side there is a natural malignity. For there be that
in their nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter
sort of malignity turneth but to a crossness, or frowardness,
36 THE ESSAYS OP FRANCIS BACON
or aptness to oppose, or difficilness/ or the like ; but the deeper
sort to envy and mere mischief. Such men in other men's
calamities are, as it were, in season, and are ever on the
loading part : not so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus'
sores ; but like flies that are still buzzing upon any thing that
is raw; misanthropi [haters of men], that make it their
practice to bring men to the bough," and yet never a tree for
the purpose in their gardens, as Timon had. Such dis-
positions are the very errors of human nature ; and yet they
are the fittest timber to make great politics of; like to knee
timber, that is good for ships, that are ordained to be tossed ;
but not for building houses, that shall stand firm. The parts
and signs of goodness are many. If a man be gracious and
courteous to strangers, it shows he is a citizen of the world,
and that his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but
a continent that joins to them. If he be compassionate
towards the afflictions of others, it shows that his heart is like
the noble tree that is wounded itself when it gives the balm.
If he easily pardons and remits offences, it shows that his
mind is planted above injuries; so that he cannot be shot.
If he be thankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighs
men's minds, and not their trash. But above all, if he have
St. Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be anathema*
from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it shows much
of a divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ
himself.
XIV
OF NOBILITY
We will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate/
then as a condition of particular persons. A monarchy
where there is no nobility at all is ever a pure and absolute
tyranny; as that of the Turks. For nobility attempers
sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside
from the line royal. But for democracies, they need it not;
and they are commonly more quiet and less subject to sedition,
than where there are stirps" of nobles. For men's eyes are
1 Moroseness. ' To hang themselves. ' Accused. ^ State.
" Families-
OF NOBILITY 37
upon the business, and not upon the persons; or if upon the
persons, it is for the business' sake, as fittest, and not for
flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers last well, notwith-
standing their diversity of religion and of cantons. For
utility is their bond, and not respects.^ The united provinces
of the Low Countries in their government excel ; for where
there is an equality, the consultations are more indifferent,
and the payments and tributes more cheerful. A great and
potent nobility addeth majesty to a monarch, but diminisheth
power; and putteth life and spirit into the people, but presseth
their fortune. It is well when nobles are not too great for
sovereignty nor for justice; and yet maintained in that
height, as the insolency of inferiors may be broken upon them
before it come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. A
numerous nobility causeth poverty and inconvenience in a
state; for it is a surcharge* of expense; and besides, it being
of necessity that many of the nobility fall in time to be weak
in fortune, it maketh a kind of disproportion between honor
and means.
As for nobility in particular persons ; it is a reverend
thing to see an ancient castle or building not in decay ; or to
see a fair timber tree sound and perfect. How much more
to behold an ancient noble family, which hath stood against
the waves and weathers of time ! For new nobility is but
the act of power, but ancient nobility is the act of time.
Those that are first raised to nobility are commonly more
virtuous,^ but less innocent, than their descendants ; for there
is rarely any rising but by a commixture of good and evil
arts. But it is reason the memory of their virtues remain
to their posterity, and their faults die with themselves.
Nobility of birth commonly abateth industry ; and he that
is not industrious, envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons
cannot go much higher ; and he that standeth at a stay when
others rise, can hardly avoid motions of envy. On the
other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from
others towards them ; because they are in possession of honor.
Certainly, kings that have able men of their nobility shall
find ease in employing them, and a better slide into their
business ; for people naturally bend to them, as born in some
sort to command.
* Considerations of rank. * Excess. ^ Able.
38 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
XV
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES
Shepherds of people had need know the calendars^ of tem-
pests in state ; which are commonly greatest when things
grow to equality ; as natural tempests are greatest about the
Eqxdnoctia. And as there are certain hollow blasts of wind
and secret swellings of seas before a tempest, so are there
in states:
Ille etiam cascos instare tumultus
Saspe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella.
[Of troubles imminent and treasons dark
Thence warning comes, and wars in secret gathering. Vir^l]
Libels and licentious discourses against the state, when they
are frequent and open ; and in like sort, false news often
running up and down to the disadvantage of the state, and
hastily embraced ; are amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil,
giving the pedigree of Fame, saith she zvas sister to the
Giants :
Illam Terra parens, irS irritata deorum,
Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo Enceladoque sororem
Progenuit.
[Her, Parent Earth, furious with the anger of the gods,
brought forth, the youngest sister (as they affirm) of Coeus
and Enceladus.]
As if fames" were the relics of seditions past ; but they are
no less indeed the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever
he noteth it right, that seditious tumults and seditious fames
differ no more but as brother and sister, masculine and
feminine ; especially if it come to that, that the best actions
of a state, and the most plausible, and which ought to give
greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, and traduced:
for that shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith; coniiata
magna invidia, seu bene sen male gesta prernunt [when dis-
like prevails against the government, good actions and bad
offend alike]. Neither doth it follow, that because these
fames are a sign of troubles that the suppressing of them with
^ Weather predictions. - Rumors.
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 99
too much severity should be a remedy of troubles. For the
despising of them many times checks them best ; and the
going about to stop them doth but make a wonder long-lived.
Also that kind of obedience which Tacitus speaketh of, is to
be held suspected: Erant in oflicio, sed tamen qui mallent
mandata imperantimn interpretari quam exequi [Ready to
serve, and yet more disposed to construe commands than ex-
ecute them] ; disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates
and directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay
of disobedience ; especially if in those disputings they which
are for the direction speak fearfully and tenderly, and those
that are against it audaciously.
Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought
to be common parents, make themselves as a party, and lean
to a side, it is as a boat that is overthrown by uneven weight
on the one side ; as was well seen in the time of Henry the
Third of France; for first himself entered league for the
extirpation of the Protestants ; and presently after the same
league was turned upon himself. For when the authority
of princes is made but an accessory to a cause, and that
there be other bands that tie faster than the band of sover-
eignty, kings begin to be put almost out of possession.
Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions are carried
openly and audaciously, it is a sign the reverence of govern-
ment is lost. For the motions of the greatest persons in a
government ought to be as the motions of the planets under
primum mobile f (according to the old opinion), which is,
that every of them is carried swiftly by the highest motion,
and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when great
ones in their own particular motion move violently, and, as
Tacitus expresseth it well, libcriits quam ni imperantium me-
minissent [unrestrained by reverence for the government],
it is a sign the orbs are out of frame. For reverence is that
wherewith princes are girt from God; who threateneth the
dissolving thereof ; Solvam cingula regum [I will unbind the
girdles of kings].
So when any of the four pillars of government are mainly
shaken or weakened (which are religion, justice, counsel,
* In the old astronomy, the primum mobile (first moving) was the outer
sphere, whose motion from east to west dominated tlie motions of the inner
Spheres of the planets.
40 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
and treasure), men had need to pray for fair weather. But
let us pass from this part of predictions (concerning which,
nevertheless, more light may be taken from that which
followeth) ; and let us speak first of the materials of seditions;
then of the motives of them; and thirdly of the remedies.
Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing well
to be considered; for the surest way to prevent seditions (if
the times do bear it) is to take away the matter of them.
For if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the
spark shall come that shall set it on fire. The matter of sedi-
tions is of two kinds: much poverty and much discontent-
ment. It is certain, so many overthrown estates, so many
votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of Rome
before the Civil War,
Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus,
Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.
[Hence estates eaten up by usurious rates of interest, and
interest greedy of time, hence credit shaken, and war a gain
to many.]
This same multis utile bellum is an assured and infallible
sign of a state disposed to seditions and troubles. And if this
poverty and broken estate in the better sort be joined with
a want and necessity in the mean people, the danger is im-
minent and great. For the rebellions of the belly* are the
worst. As for discontentments, they are in the politic body
like to humors in the natural, which are apt to gather a pre-
ternatural heat and to inflame. And let no prince measure
the danger of them by this, whether they be just or unjust:
for that were to imagine people to be too reasonable ; who
do often spurn at their own good: nor yet by this, whether
the griefs whereupon they rise be in fact great or small : for
they are the most dangerous discontentments where the fear
is greater than the feeling. Dolendi modus, timendi non item
[Suffering has its limit, but fears are endless]. Besides, in
great oppressions, the same things that provoke the patience,
do withal mate^ the courage ; but in fears it is not so. Neither
let any prince or state be secure* concerning discontentments,
because they have been often, or have been long, and yet no
* From hunger. ^ Confound. * Free from care.
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 41
peril hath ensued : for as it is true that every vapor or fume
doth not turn into a storm ; so it is nevertheless true that storms,
though they blow over divers times, yet may fall at last ; and,
as the Spanish proverb noteth well, The cord hreaketh at the
last by the weakest pull.
The causes and motives of seditions are, innovation in
religion; taxes; alteration of laws and customs; breaking
of privileges; general oppression; advancement of unworthy
persons; strangers; dearths; disbanded soldiers; factions
grown desperate ; and whatsoever, in offending people, joineth
and knitteth them in a common cause.
For the remedies ; there may be some general preservatives,
whereof we will speak: as for the just cure, it must answer
to the particular disease; and so be left to counsel rather
than rule.
The first remedy or prevention is to remove by all means
possible that material cause of sedition whereof we spake;
which is, want and poverty in the estate. To which purpose
serveth the opening and well-balancing of trade ; the cherish-
ing of manufactures ; the banishing of idleness ; the repres-
sing of waste and excess by sumptuary' laws ; the improve-
ment and husbanding of the soil ; the regulating of prices
of things vendible ; the moderating of taxes and tributes ; and
the like. Generally, it is to be foreseen* that the population
of a kingdom (especially if it be not mown down by wars)
do not exceed the stock of the kingdom which should main-
tain them. Neither is the population to be reckoned only by
number ; for a smaller number that spend more and earn less
do wear out an estate sooner than a greater number that
live lower and gather more. Therefore the multiplying o£
nobility and other degrees of quality in an over proportion
to the common people doth speedily bring a state to necessity;
and so doth likewise an overgrown clergy; for they bring
nothing to the stock; and in like manner, when more are
bred scholars than preferments can take off.
It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as the
increase of any estate must be upon the foreigner (for what-
soever is somewhere gotten is somewhere lost), there be
but three things which one nation selleth unto another; the
' Against extravagance. * Guarded against beforehand.
42 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
commodity as nature yieldeth it ; the manufacture ; and the
vecture, or carriage. So that if these three wheels go, wealth
will flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh many times to
pass, that materiam superabit opus; that the work and car-
riage is more worth than the material, and enricheth a state
more ; as is notably seen in the Low-Countrymen, who have
the best mines above ground in the world.
Above all things, good policy is to be used that the treasure
and moneys in a state be not gathered into few hands. For
otherwise a state may have a great stock, and yet starve.
And money is like muck, not good except it be spread. This
is done chiefly by suppressing or at least keeping a strait
hand upon the devouring trades of usury, ingrossing" great
pasturages, and the like.
For removing discontentments, or at least the danger
of them; there is in every state (as we know) two portions
of subjects; the noblesse and the commonalty. When one
of these is discontent, the danger is not great; for common
people are of slow motion, if they be not excited by the
greater sort ; and the greater sort are of small strength,
except the multitude be apt and ready to move of themselves.
Then is the danger, when the greater sort do but wait for
the troubling of the waters amongst the meaner, that then
they may declare themselves. The poets feign that the
rest of the gods would have bound Jupiter ; which he hearing
of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, with his
hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An emblem, no doubt,
to show how safe it is for monarchs to make sure of the good
will of common people. To give moderate liberty for griefs
and discontentments to evaporate (so it be without too great
insolency or bravery), is a safe way. For he that turneth
the humors back, and maketh the wound bleed inwards, en-
dangereth malign ulcers and pernicious imposthumations."
The part of Epimetheus" mought well become Prome-
theus" in the case of discontentments : for there is not a
better provision against them. Epimetheus, when griefs
and evils flew abroad, at last shut the lid, and kept hope
in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly, the politic and artifi-
cial nourishing and entertaining of hopes, and carrying men
9 " Cornering." >» Abscesses. " Afterthought. " Forethought.
OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES 43
from hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotes against the
poison of discontentments. And it is a certain sign of a
wise government and proceeding, when it can hold men's
hearts by hopes, when it cannot by satisfaction ; and when
it can handle things in such manner, as no evil shall appear
so peremptory but that it hath some outlet of hope; which
is the less hard to do. because both particular persons and
factions are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least to
brave that which they believe not.
Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely
or fit head whereunto discontented persons may resort, and
under whom they may join, is a known, but an excellent
point of caution. I understand a fit head to be one that
hath greatness and reputation : that hath confidence with
the discontented party, and upon whom they turn their eyes ;
and that is thought discontented in his own particular:
which kind of persons are either to be won and reconciled
to the state, and that in a fast and true manner; or to be
fronted with some other of the same party, that may oppose
them, and so divide the reputation. Generally, the dividing and
breaking of all factions and combinations that are adverse
to the state, and setting them at distance, or at least distrust,
amongst themselves, is not one of the worst remedies. For
it is a desperate case, if those that hold with the proceeding
of the state be full of discord and faction, and those that
are against it be entire and united.
I have noted that some witty and sharp speeches which
have fallen from princes have given fire to seditions. Caesar
did himself infinite hurt in that speech, Sylla ncscivit literas,
non potuit dictare [Sylla was no scholar, he could not dic-
tate] ; for it did utterly cut off that hope Avhich men had
entertained, that he would at one time or other give over
his dictatorship. Galba undid himself by that speech, legi a
se militem, non emi [that he did not buy his soldiers, but
levied them] ; for it put the soldiers out of hope of the
donative." Probus likewise, by that speech, Si vixcro. non
opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus [If I live, the
Roman empire shall have no more need of soldiers] ; a speech
of great despair for the soldiers. And many the like. Surely
" Gifts of money.
44 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
princes had need, in tender matters and ticklish times, to
beware what they say ; especially in these short speeches,
which fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out
of their secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they
are flat things, and not so much noted.
Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some
great person, one or rather more, of military valor, near
unto them, for the repressing of seditions in their beginnings.
For without that, there usetli to be more trepidation in court
upon the first breaking out of troubles than were fit. And the
state runneth the danger of that which Tacitus saith ; Afque
is habitus animorum fiiit, ut pessimum f acinus auderent paiici,
plures vellcnt, omnes paterentur [A few were in a humor to
attempt mischief, more to desire, all to allow it]. But let such
military persons be assured, and well reputed of, rather than
factious and popular ; holding also good correspondence with
the other great men in the state ; or else the remedy is worse
than the disease.
XVI
OF ATHEISM
I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Legend,* and the
Talmud,' and the Alcoran.^ than that this universal frame
is without a mind. And therefore God never wrought
miracle to convince* atheism, because his ordinary works con-
vince it. It is true, that a little philosophy inclineth man's
mind to atheism ; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's
minds about to religion. For while the mind of man looketh
upon second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them,
and go no further ; but when it beholdeth the chain of them,
confederate and linked together, it must needs fly to Provi-
dence and Deity. Nay, even that school which is m^ost ac-
cused of atheism doth most demonstrate religion; that is, the
school of Leucippus and Democritus and Epicurus. For
it is a thousand times more credible, that four mutable ele-
ments, and one immutable fifth essence, duly and eternally
^ " The Golden Legend," a 13th century collection of saints' lives.
- The body of Jewish traditional law. ^ " The Koran," the sacred book
of the Mohammedans. * Refute.
OF ATHEISM 45
placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite small
portions or seeds unplaced, should have produced this order
and beauty without a divine marshal. The Scripture saith,
The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God; it is not said,
The fool hath thought in his heart; so as he rather saith it
by rote to himself, as that he would have, than that he can
thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it. For none deny
there is a God, but those for whom it maketh^ that there
were no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that atheism
is rather in the lip than in the heart of man, than by this;
that atheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as
if they fainted in it within themselves, and would be glad
to be strengthened by the consent of others. Nay more, you
shall have atheists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with
other sects. And, which is most of all, you shall have of
them that will suffer for atheism, and not recant ; whereas
if they did truly think that there were no such thing as God,
why should they trouble themselves? Epicurus is charged
that he did but dissemble for his credit's sake, when he af-
firmed there were blessed natures, but such as enjoyed them-
selves without having respect to the government of the world.
Wherein they say he did temporize ; though in secret he
thought there was no God. But certainly he is traduced*;
for his words are noble and divine : N^on deos vulgi negare
profamim; sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare profanum
[There is no profanity in refusing to believe in the gods of
the people : the profanity is in believing of the gods what the
people believe of them]. Plato could have said no more.
And although he had the confidence to deny the admin-
istration, he had not the power to deny the nature. The
Indians of the West have names for their particular gods,
though they have no name for God : as if the heathens should
have had the names Jupiter. Apollo. Mars, etc. but not the
word Deus; which shows that even those barbarous people
have the notion, though they have not the latitude and extent
of it. So that against atheists the very savages take part
with the very subtlest philosophers. The contemplative athe-
ist is rare : a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some
others; and yet they seem to be more than they are; for that
s Profiteth.
46 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
all that impugn a received religion or superstition are by
the adverse part branded with the name of atheists. But
the great atheists indeed are hypocrites; which are ever
handling holy things, but without feeling; so as they must
needs be cauterized in the end. The causes of atheism are:
divisions in religion, if they be many ; for any one main
division addeth zeal to both sides; but many divisions intro-
duce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests; when it is
come to that which St. Bernard saith, Non est jam dicere,
ut populus sic sacerdos: quia nee sic populus ut sacerdos
[One cannot now say the priest is as the people, for the truth
is that the people are not so bad as the priest]. A third
is, custom of profane scoffing in holy matters ; which doth
by little and little deface the reverence of religion. And
lastly, learned times, specially with peace and prosperity;
for troubles and adversities do more bow men's minds to
religion. They that deny a God destroy man's nobility; for
certainly man is of kin to the beasts by his body ; and, if he
be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble
creature. It destroys likewise magnanimity, and the raising
of human nature ; for take an example of a dog, and mark
what a generosity and courage he will put on when he finds
himself maintained by a man; who to him is instead of a God,
or ntclior natnra [better nature] ; which courage is manifestly
such as that creature, without that confidence of a better
nature than his own. could never attain. So man. when he
resteth and assureth himself upon divine protection and
favor, gathered a force and faith which human nature in
itself could not obtain. Therefore, as atheism is in all re-
spects hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature
of the means to exalt itself above human frailty. As it is
in particular persons, so it is in nations. Never was there
such a state for magnanimity as Rome. Of this state hear
what Cicero saith: Quam vohimus licet, patres conscripti,
nos amemus, tamen nee numo'o Hispanos, nee robore Gallos,
nee calliditate Poenos, nee artihns Grcecos, nee denique hoc
ipso hujus gentis et terrce domestico nativoque sensu Italos
ipsos et Latinos; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una
sapientia, quod dcorum immortalinm numine omnia regi gn-
bernarique perspeximus, omncs gentcs nationesque stipera-
OF SUPERSTITION 47
vimus [Pride ourselves as we may upon our country, yet
are we not in number superior to the Spaniards, nor in
strength to the Gauls, nor in cunning to the Carthaginians,
not to the Greeks in arts, nor to the Italians and Latins
themselves in the homely and native sense which belongs to
this nation and land ; it is in piety only and religion, and the
wisdom of regarding the providence of the immortal gods
as that which rules and governs all things, that we have sur-
passed all nations and peoples].
XVII
OF SUPERSTITION
It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such
an opinion as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief,
the other is contumely ; and certainly superstition is the
reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose :
Surely (saith he) / had rather a great deal men should say
there was no such man at all as Plutarch, than that they
should say that there "-Ji'as one Plutarch that would eat his
children as soon as they zvere born; as the poets speak of
Saturn. And as the contumely is greater towards God,
so the danger is greater towards men. Atheism leaves a man
to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to repu-
tation ; all which may be guides to an outward moral virtue,
though religion were not; but superstition dismounts all
these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of men.
Therefore atheism did never perturb states : for it makes
men wary of themselves, as looking no further : and we see
the times inclined to atheism (as the time of Augustus
Caesar) were civil* times. But superstition hath been the
confusion of many states, and bringeth in a new primum
mobile' that ravisheth all the spheres of government. The
master of superstition is the people ; and in all superstition
wise men follow fools; and arguments are fitted to practice,
in a reversed order. It was gravely said by some of the
prelates in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the
Schoolmen bare great sway, that the Schoolmen were like
1 Peaceful. - See Essay xv., n. 3.
48 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and epicycles' and
such engines* of orbs, to save' the phenomena; though they
knew there zi'ere no such things; and in like manner, that the
Schoolmen had framed a number of subtle and intricate
axioms and theorems, to save the practice of the church.
The causes of superstition are : pleasing and sensual rites and
ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness ; over-
great reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the church;
the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre ;
the favoring too much of good intentions, which openeth the
gate to conceits and novelties ; the taking an aim at divine
matters by human, which cannot but breed mixture of im-
aginations: and, lastly, barbarous times, especially joined
with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without a veil,
is a deformed thing; for as it addeth deformity to an ape
to be so like a man, so the similitude of superstition to re-
ligion makes it the more deformed. And as wholesome meat
corrupterh to little worms, so good forms and orders corrupt
into a number of petty observances. There is a superstition
in avoiding superstition, when men think to do best if they
go furthest from the superstition formerly received; there-
fore care would be had that (as it fareth in ill purgings)
the good be not taken away with the bad; which com-
monly is done when the people is the reformer.
XVIII
OF TR.WEL
Travel^ in the younger sort, is a part of education, in the
elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a country
before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to
school, and not to travel. That young men travel under some
tutor, or grave servant, I allow' well : so that he be such
a one that hath the language, and hath been in the country
before ; whereby he may be ab'e to tell them what things are
'According to the Ptolemaic a'tr .'-. ciy, the planets moved in circles
called epicycles, the centers of which al-o moved in circles called eccentrics,
because their centers were outside the earth.
* Machinery. ' Account for. ^ Approve.
OF TRAVEL 49
worthy to be seen in the country where they go ; what ac-
quaintances they are to seek; what exercises or discipline
the place yieldeth. For else young men shall go hooded,
and look abroad little. It is a strange thing, that in sea
voyages, where there is nothing to be seen but sky and sea,
men should make diaries ; but in land-travel, wherein so
much is to be observed, for the most part they omit it; as
if chance were fitter to be registered than observation. Let
diaries therefore be brought in use. The things to be seen
and observed are : the courts of princes, especially when they
give audience to ambassadors; the courts of justice, while
they sit and hear causes; and so of consistories ecclesiastic;
the churches and monasteries, with the monuments which
are therein extant ; the walls and fortifications of cities and
towns, and so the havens and harbors ; antiquities and ruins ;
libraries; colleges, disputations, and lectures, where any are;
shipping and navies ; houses and gardens of state and pleasure,
near great cities; armories; arsenals; magazines; exchanges;
burses ; warehouses ; exercises of horsemanship, fencing,
training of soldiers, and the like ; comedies, such whereunto
the better sort of persons do resort; treasuries of jewels and
robes ; cabinets and rarities ; and, to conclude, whatsoever
is m.emorable in the places where they go. After all which
the tutors or servants ought to make diligent inquiry. As
for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital
executions, and such shows, men need not to be put in mind
of them ; yet are they not to be neglected. If you will have
a young man to put his travel into a little room, and in short
time to gather much, this you must do. First, as was said,
he must have some entrance into the language before he
goeth. Then he must have such a servant or tutor as
knoweth the country, as was likewise said. Let him carry
with him also some card' or book describing the country
where he travelleth ; which will be a good key to his inquiry.
Let him keep also a diary. Let him not stay long in one
city or town ; more or less as the place deserveth, but not
long; nay, when he stayeth in one city or town, let him
change his lodging from one end and part of the town
to another; which is a great adamant^ of acquaintance. Let
^ Map. ^ Loadstone.
ae THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
him sequester himself from the company of his countrymen,
and diet in such places where there is good company of the
nation where he travelleth. Let him, upon his removes from
one place to another, procure recommendation to some person
of quality residing in the place whither he removeth ; that
he may use his favor in those things he desireth to see or
know. Thus he may abridge his travel with much profit.
As for the acquaintance which is to be sought in travel ;
that which is most of all profitable is acquaintance with the
secretaries and employed men of ambassadors : for so in trav-
elling in one country he shall suck the experience of many.
Let him also see and visit eminent persons in all kinds, which
are of great name abroad; that he may be able to tell how
the life agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with
care and discretion to be avoided. They are commonly for
mistresses, healths, place, and words. And let a man beware
how he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome
persons; for they will engage him into their own quarrels.
When a traveller returneth home, let him not leave the
countries where he hath travelled altogether behind him;
but maintain a correspondence by letters with those of his
acquaintance which are of most worth. And let his travel
appear rather in his discourse than his apparel or gesture;
and in his discourse let him be rather advised in his answers,
than forward to tell stories ; and let it appear that he doth
not change his country manners for those of foreign parts;
but only prick in some flowers of that he hath learned abroad
into the customs of his own country.
XIX
OF EMPIRE
It is a miserable state of mind to have few things to desire,
and many things to fear ; and yet that commonly is the case
of kings; who. being at the highest, want matter of desire,
which makes their minds more languishing; and "have many
representations of perils and shadows, which makes their
minds the less clear. And this is one reason also of that
OF EMPIRE 51
effect which the Scripture speaketh of, That the king's heart
is inscrutable. For multitude of jealousies, and lack of
some predominant desire that should marshal and put in
order all the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find or
sound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes many times
make themselves desires, and set their hearts upon toys;
sometimes upon a building; sometimes upon erecting of an
order ; sometimes upon the advancing of a person ; some-
times upon obtaining excellency in some art or feat of the
hand; as Nero for playing on the harp, Domitian for certainty
of the hand with the arrow, Commodus for playing at fence,
Caracalla for driving chariots, and the like. This seemeth
incredible unto those that know not the principle that the
mind of man is more cheered and refreshed by profiting in
small things, than by standing at a stay in great. We see also
that kings that have been fortunate conquerors in their first
years, it being not possible for them to go forward infinitely,
but that they must have some check or arrest in their
fortunes, turn in their latter years to be superstitious and
melancholy ; as did Alexander the Great ; Diocletian ; and
in our memory. Charles the Fifth ; and others : for he that
is used to go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his
own favor, and is not the thing he was.
To speak now of the true temper' of empire, it is a thing
rare and hard to keep ; for both temper and distemper con-
sist of contraries. But it is one thing to mingle contraries,
another to interchange them. The answer of Apollonius
to Vespasian is full of excellent instruction. Vespasian
asked him. What Ti'cy Nero's overthrow? He answered,
Nero could touch and tune the harp well; hut in govern-
ment sometimes he used to ivind the pins too high, sometimes
to let them down too low. And certain it is that nothing
destroyeth authority so much as the unequal and untimely
interchange of power pressed too far, and relaxed too
much.
This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter times in
princes' affairs is rather fine deliveries and shiftings of dan-
gers and mischiefs when they are near, than solid and
grounded courses to keep them aloof. But this is but to try
^ Picportion.
52 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
masteries with fortune. And let men beware how they neg-
lect and suffer matter of trouble to be prepared; for no man
can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. The
difficulties in princes' business are many and great: but the
greatest difficulty is often in their own mind. For it is com-
mon with princes (saith Tacitus) to will contradictories,
Sunt plerumquc re gum voluntates vehetnentes, et inter se
contrarice [Their desires are commonly vehement and incom-
patible one with another]. For it is the solecism^ of power,
to think to command the end, and yet not to endure the mean.
Kings have to deal with their neighbors, their wives, their
children, their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their second-
nobles or gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and
their men of war; and from all these arise dangers, if care
and circumspection be not used.
First for their neighbors; there can no general rule
be given (the occasions are so variable), save one, which
ever holdeth; which is, that princes do keep due sentinel,
that none of their neighbors do ever grow so (by increase
of territory, by embracing of trade, by approaches, or the
like), as they become more able to annoy them than they
were. And this is generally the work of standing counsels
to foresee and to hinder it. During that triumvirate of kings,
King Henry the Eighth of England, Francis the First King
of France, and Charles the Fifth Emperor, there was such
a watch kept, that none of the three could win a palm of
ground, but the other two would straightways balance it,
either by confederation, or, if need were, by a war ; and would
not in any wise take up peace at interest. And the like was
done by that league (which Guicciardini saith was the se-
curity of Italy) made between Ferdinando King of Naples,
Lorenzius Medici, and Ludovicus Sforza, potentates, the one
of Florence, the other of Milan. Neither is the opinion of
some of the Schoolmen to be received, that a war cannot
justly be made but upon a precedent injury or provocation.
For there is no question but a just fear of an imminent
danger, though there be no blow given, is a lawful cause
of a war.
For their wives; there are cruel examples of them. Livia
- Absurd mistake.
OF EMPIRE 53
is infamed for the poisoning of her husband; Roxalana,
Solyman's wife, was the destruction of that renowned prince
Sultan Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his house and suc-
cession; Edward the Second of England his queen had the
principal hand in the deposing and murther of her husband.
This kind of danger is then to be feared chiefly, when the
wives have plots for the raising of their own children ;
or else that they be advoutresses.^
For their children; the tragedies likewise of dangers from
them have been many. And generally, the entering of fathers
into suspicion of their children hath been ever unfortunate.
The destruction of Mustapha (that we named before) was
so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession of the Turks
from Solyman until this day is suspected to be untrue, and
of strange blood ; for that Selymus the Second was thought
to be suppositious. The destruction of Crispus, a young
prince of rare towardness, by Constantinus the Great, his
father, was in like manner fatal to his house; for both Con-
stantinus and Constance, his sons died violent deaths; and
Constantius, his other son, did little better; who died indeed
of sickness, but after that Julianus had taken arms against
him. The destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second
of Macedon, turned upon the father, who died of repentance.
And many like examples there are ; but few or none where
the fathers had good by such distrust ; except it were where
the sons were up in open arms against them ; as was Selymus
the First against Bajazet; and the three sons of Henry the
Second, King of England.
For their prelates ; when they are proud and great, there
is also danger from them ; as it was in the times of Ansel-
mus and Thomas Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury ; who
with their croziers did almost try it with the king's sword ;
and yet they had to deal with stout and haughty kings,
William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the Second.
The danger is not from that state, but where it hath a depend-
ence of foreign authority ; or where the churchmen come in
and are elected, not by the collation of the king, or particular
patrons, but by the people.
For their nobles ; to keep them at a distance, it is not
^ Adulteresses.
S4 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
amiss ; but to depress them, may make a king more absolute,
but less safe ; and less able to perform any thing that he
desires. I have noted it in my History of King Henry the
Seventh of England, who depressed his nobility ; whereupon
it came to pass that his times were full of difficulties and
troubles ; for the nobility, though they continued loyal unto
him, yet did they not co-operate with him in his business.
So that in effect he was fain to do all things himself.
For their second-nobles; there is not much danger from
them, being a body dispersed. They may sometimes dis-
course high, but that doth little hurt; besides, they are a
counterpoise to the higher nobility, that they grow not too
potent : and, lastly, being the most immediate in authority
with the common people, they do best temper popular com-
motions.
For their merchants; they are vena porta;* and if they
flourish not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have
empty veins, and nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon
them do seldom good to the king's revenue; for that that he
wins in the hundred he leeseth^ in the shire: the particular
rates being increased, but the total bulk of trading rather
decreased.
For their commons; there is little danger from them,
except it be where they have great and potent heads; or
where you meddle with the point of religion, or their customs,
or means of life.
For their men of war: it is a dangerous state where they
live and remain in a body, and are used to donatives ; whereof
we see examples in the janizaries,"* and pretorian bands'
of Rome ; but trainings of men, and arming them in several
places, and under several commanders, and without donatives,
are things of defence, and no danger.
Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good
or evil times ; and which have much veneration, but no rest.
All precepts concerning kings are in effect comprehended
in those two remembrances: memento quod es homo; and me-
mento quod es Deus, or vice Dei [Remember that you are
♦ The " gate-vein," which Bacon regarded as distributing nourishment to
the body. " Loseth. "^ Bodyguard of the Sultan.
^ Bodyguard of the Roman emperors.
OF COUNSEL 55
a. man; and remember that you are a God, or God's lieu-
tenant] ; the one bridleth their power, and the other their will.
XX
OF COUNSEL
The greatest trust between man and man is the trust of
giving counsel. For in other confidences men commit the
parts of life; their lands, their goods, their children, their
credit, some particular affair; but to such as they make
their counsellors, they commit the whole : by how much the
more they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The
wisest princes need not think it any diminution to their
greatness, or derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon
counsel. God himself is not without, but hath made it one
of the great names of his blessed Son : The Counsellor.
Solomon hath pronounced that in counsel is stability. Things
will have their first or second agitation: if they be not
tossed upon the arguments of counsel, they will be tossed upon
the waves of fortune ; and be full of inconstancy, doing and
undoing, like the reeling of a drunken man. Solomon's
son found the force of counsel, as his father saw the neces-
sity of it. For the beloved kingdom of God was first rent
and broken by ill counsel ; upon which counsel there are set
for our instruction the two marks whereby bad counsel is
for ever best discerned; that it was young counsel, for the
persons ; and violent counsel, for the matter.
The ancient times do set forth in figure both the incor-
poration and inseparable conjunction of counsel with kings,
and the wise and politic use of counsel by kings : the one, in
that they say Jupiter did marry Metis, which signifieth coun-
sel; whereby they intend that Sovereignty is married to
Counsel : the other in that which followeth, which was thus :
They say, after Jupiter was married to Metis, she conceived
by him and was with child, but Jupiter suffered her not to
stay till she brought forth, but eat her up; whereby he be-
cam.e himself with child, and was delivered of Pallas armed,
out of his head. Which monstrous fable containeth a secret
56 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
of empire; how kings are to make use of their counsel of
state. That first they ought to refer matters unto them,
which is the first begetting or impregnation; but when they
are elaborate, moulded, and shaped in the womb of their
counsel, and grow ripe and ready to be brought forth, that
then they suffer not their counsel to go through with the
resolution and direction, as if it depended on them ; but take
the matter back into their own hands, and make it appear
to the world that the decrees and final directions (which,
because they come forth with prudence and power, are re-
sembled to Pallas armed) proceeded from themselves; and
not only from their authority, but (the more to add repu-
tation to themselves) from their head and device.
Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and
of the remedies. The inconveniences that have been noted
in calling and using counsel are three. First, the revealing
of affairs, whereby they become less secret. Secondly, the
weakening of the authority of princes, as if they were less
of themselves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully
counselled, and more for the good of them that counsel than
of him that is counselled. For which inconveniences, the
doctrine of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings'
times, hath introduced cabinet^ counsels; a remedy worse
than the disease.
As to secrecy; princes are not bound to communicate all
matters with all counsellors; but may extract and select.
Neither is it necessary that he that consulteth what he should
do, should declare what he will do. But let princes beware
that the unsecreting of their affairs comes not from them-
selves. And as for cabinet counsels, it may be their motto,
plenus rimarum sum [I am full of leaks] : one futile* person
that maketh it his glory to tell, will do more hurt than
many that know it their duty to conceal. It is true there
be some affairs which require extreme secrecy, which will
hardly go beyond one or two persons besides the king:
neither are those counsels unprosperous; for, besides the
secrecy, they commonly go on constantly in one spirit of
direction, without distraction. But then it must be a prudent
king, such as is able to grind with a hand-mill; and those
^ Secret. - Babbling.
OF COUNSEL SI
inward counsellors had need also be wise men, and especially
true and trusty to the king's ends ; as it was with King
Henry the Seventh of England, who in his greatest business
imparted himself to none, except it were to Morton and Fox.
For weakening of authority ; the fable showeth the remedy.
Nay, the majesty of kings is rather exalted than diminished
when they are in the chair of counsel ; neither was there
ever prince bereaved of his dependences by his counsel ; ex-
cept where there hath been either an over-greatness in one
counsellor or an over-strict combination in divers ; which are
things soon found and holpen.^
For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel with an
eye to themselves ; certainly, non invcniet Mem super terram
[he will not find faith on the earth] is meant of the nature
of times, and not of all particular persons. There be that
are in nature faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct;
not crafty and involved ; let princes, above all, draw to them-
selves such natures. Besides, counsellors are not commonly
so united, but that one counsellor keepeth sentinel over
another; so that if any do counsel out of faction or private
ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear. But the best
remedy is, if princes know their counsellors, as well as their
counsellors know them :
Pnncipis est virtus maxima nosse suos.
[It is the greatest virtue of a prince to know his own.] And
on the other side, counsellors should not be too speculative*
into their sovereign's person. The true composition of a
counsellor is rather to be skilful in their master's business,
than in his nature ; for then he is like to advise him, and not
feed his humor. It is of singular use to princes if they take
the opinions of their counsel both separately and together.
For private opinion is more free ; but opinion before others
is more reverent. In private, men are more bold in their
own humors; and in consort, men are more obnoxious^ to
others' humors ; therefore it is good to take both ; and of
the inferior sort rather in private, to preserve freedom ; of
the greater rather in consort, to preserve respect. It is in
vain for princes to take counsel concerning matters, if they
take no counsel likewise concerning persons ; for all matters
' Helped. * Inquisitive. ^ Subservient.
S8 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
are as dead images ; and the life of the execution of affairs
resteth in the good choice of persons. Neither is it enough
to consult concerning persons seamdum genera [according to
classes], as in an idea, or mathematical description, what
the kind and character of the person should be ; for the
greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is
shown, in the choice of individuals. It was truly said,
optimi consiliarii mortiii [the best counsellors are the dead] :
books will speak plain when counsellors blanch.* There-
fore it is good to be conversant in them, especially the
books of such as themselves have been actors upon the
stage.
The counsels at this day in most places are but familiar
meetings, where matters are rather talked on than debated.
And they run too swift to the order or act of counsel. It
were better that in causes of weight, the matter were pro-
pounded one day and not spoken to till the next day; in
nocte consilium [night is the season for counsel]. So was
it done in the Commission of Union between England and
Scotland ; which was a grave and orderly assembly. I com-
mend set days for petitions ; for both it gives the suitors
more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the meetings
for matters of estate, that they may hoc agere [do this]. In
choice of committees for ripening business for the counsel,
it is better to choose indifferent' persons, than to make an
indifferency by putting in those that are strong on both sides.
I commend also standing commissions; as for trade, for
treasure, for war, for suits, for some provinces ; for where
there be divers particular counsels and but one counsel of
estate (as it is in Spain), they are, in effect, no more than
standing commissions : save that they have greater authority.
Let such as are to inform counsels out of their particular
professions (as lawyers, seamen, mintmen, and the like)
be first heard before committees ; and then, as occasion serves,
before the counsel. And let them not come in multitudes,
or in a tribunitious manner;* for that is to clamor counsels,
not to inform them. A long table and a square table, or
seats about the walls, seem things of form, but are things of
substance; for at a long table a few at the upper end, in
• Flatter. • Impartial. * As demagogues.
OF DELAYS $9
effect, sway all the business ; but in the other form there
is more use of the counsellors' opinions that sit lower. A
king, when he presides in counsel, let him beware how he
opens his own inclination too much in that which he pro-
poundeth ; for else counsellors will but take the wind of him,
and instead of giving free counsel, sing him a song of
placebo^ [I shall please].
XXI
OF DELAYS
Fortune is like the market; where many times, if you
can stay a little, the price will fall. And again, it is some-
times like Sibylla's offer ; which at first offereth the com-
modity at full, then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth
up the price. For occasion (as it is in the common verse)
ttirneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks
in front, and no hold taken; or at least turneth the handle
of the bottle first to be received, and after the belly, which
is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom than
well to time the beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers
are no more light, if they once seem light ; and more dangers
have deceived men than forced them. Nay, it were better
to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing
near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches;
for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep.
On the other side, to be deceived with too long shadows (as
some have been when the moon was low and shone on their
enemies' back), and so to shoot off before the time; or to
teach dangers to come on, by over early buckling towards them ;
is another extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the oc-
casion (as we said) must ever be well weighed; and gener-
ally it is good to commit the beginnings of all great actions
to Argus with his hundred eyes, and the ends to Briareus
with his hundred hands ; first to watch, and then to speed.
For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man^ go
invisible, is secrecy in the counsel and celerity in the ex-
ecution. For when things are once come to the execution,
' Flattery. i Politician.
60 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
there is no secrecy comparable to celerity; like the motion
of a bullet in the air, which flieth so swift as it outruns
the eye.
XXII
OF CUNNING
We take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom. And
certainly there is a great difference between a cunning man
and a wise man ; not only in point of honesty, but in point
of ability. There be that can pack the cards, and yet can-
not play well ; so there are some that are good in canvasses
and factions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is
one thing to understand persons, and another thing to under-
stand matters; for many are perfect in men's humors, that
are not greatly capable of the real part of business ; which
is the constitution of one that hath studied men more than
books. Such men are fitter for practice than for counsel ;
and they are good but in their own alley :^ turn them to new
men, and they have lost their aim ; so as the old rule to
know a fool from a wise man, Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos,
et videbis [Send them both naked to those they know not,
and you will see]^ doth scarce hold for them. And because
these cunning men are like haberdashers of small wares,
it is not amiss to set forth their shop.
It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him with whom
you speak, with your eye ; as the Jesuits give it in precept :
for there be many wise men that have secret hearts and
transparent countenances. Yet this would be done with
a demure abasing of your eye sometimes, as the Jesuits
also do use.
Another is, that when you have anything to obtain of
present despatch, you entertain and amuse the party with
whom you deal with some other discourse; that he be not
too much awake to make objections. I knew a counsellor
and secretary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England
with bills to sign, but he would always first put her into some
discourse of estate, that she mought^ the less mind the bills.
^ Bowling-alley. ' Might.
OF CUNNING 61
The like surprise may be made by moving things when
the party is in haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly
of that is moved.
If a man would cross a business that he doubts some other
would handsomely and effectually move, let him pretend
to wish it well, and move it himself in such sort as may
foil it.
The breaking off in the midst of that one was about to
say, as if he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in
him with whom you confer, to know more.
And because it works better when anything seemeth to be
gotten from you by question, than if you offer it of your-
self, you may lay a bait for a question, by showing another
visage and countenance than you are wont ; to the end to
give occasion for the party to ask what the matter is of
the change ? As Nehemias did ; And I had not before that
time been sad before the king.
In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to
break the ice by some whose words are of less weight, and
to reserve the more weighty voice to come in as by chance,
so that he may be asked the question upon the other's speech;
as Narcissus did, relating to Claudius the marriage of
Messalina and Silius.
In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is
a point of cunning to borrow the name of the world; as to
say, The world says, or There is a speech abroad.
I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, he would put that
which was most material in the postscript, as if it had been
a by-matter.
I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he
would pass over that that he intended most; and go forth,
and come back again, and speak of it as of a thing that
he had almost forgot.
Some procure themselves to be surprised at such times
as it is like the party that they work upon will suddenly come
upon them; and to be found with a letter in their hand, or
doing somewhat which they are not accustomed ; to the end
they may be apposed^ of those things which of themselves
they are desirous to utter.
' Questioned.
82 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words in a man's
own name, which he would have another man learn and
use, and thereupon take advantage. I knew two that were
competitors for the secretary's place in Queen Elizabeth's
time, and yet kept good quarter' between themselves ; and
would confer one with another upon the business ; and the one
of them said, That to be a secretary in the declination of a
monarchy was a ticklish thing, and that he did not affect"
it: the other straight caught up those words and discoursed
with divers of his friends, that he had no reason to desire
to be secretary in the declination of a monarchy. The first
man took hold of it, and found means it was told the Queen ;
who hearing of a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill as
she would never after hear of the other's suit.
There is a cunning, which we in England call the turning
of the cat^ in the pan; which is, when that which a man says
to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him. And
to say truth, it is not easy, when such a matter passed
between two, to make it appear from which of them it first
moved and began.
It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at
others by justifying themselves by negatives; as to say.
This I do not; as Tigellinus did towards Burrhus, Se non
diversas spes, sed incohimitatem iviperatoris simpliciter spec-
tare [That he had not several hopes to rest on, but looked
shnply to the safety of the Emperor.]
Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as there
is nothing they would insinuate, but they can wrap it into
a tale ; which serveth both to keep themselves more in guard,
and to make others carry it with more pleasure.
It is a good point of cunning for a man to shape the
answer he would have in his own words and propositions;
for it makes the other party stick the less.
It is strange how long some men will lie in wait to speak
somewhat they desire to say; and how far about they will
fetch; and how many other matters they will beat over,
to come near it. It is a thing of great patience, but yet
of much use.
A sudden, bold, and unexpected question doth many times
* Relations. ^ Desire. * Cate or cake.
OP WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF 6S
surprise a man, and lay him open. Like to him that, having
changed his name and walking in Paul's,' another suddenly
came behind him and called him by his true name, whereat
straightways he looked back.
But these small wares and petty points of cunning are in-
finite ; and it were a good deed to make a list of them ; for that
nothing doth more hurt in a state than that cunning men
pass for wise.
But certainly some there are that know the resorts and
falls" of business, that cannot sink into the main of it; like
a house that hath convenient stairs and entries, but never
a fair room. Therefore you shall see them find out pretty
looses" in the conclusion, but are no ways able to examine
or debate matters. And yet commonly they take advantage
of their inability, and would be thought wits of direction.**
Some build rather upon the abusing of others, and (as
we now say) putting tricks upon them, than upon soundness
of their own proceedings. But Solomon saith, Prudens ad-
vertit ad gressiis suos; stultus divertit ad dolos [The wise
taketh heed to his steps; the fool turneth aside to deceits.]
XXIII
OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF
An ant is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd*
thing in an orchard or garden. And certainly men that are
great lovers of themselves waste the public. Divide with reason
between self-love and society; and be so true to thyself,
as thou be not false to others ; specially to thy king and
country. It is a poor centre of a man's actions, hitnself.
It is right earth.^ For that only stands fast upon his own
centre ; whereas all things that have affinity with the heavens
move upon the centre of another, which they benefit. The
referring of all to a man's self is more tolerable in a sover-
eign prince ; because themselves are not only themselves but
' St. Paul's Cathedral, then a fashionable promenade. * Entrances and
exits. " Shots. '° Clever at directing others. ^ Mischievous.
" Precisely like the earth. Bacon here is thinking of the old astronomy,
according to which all the heavenly bodies moved round the earth.
64 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
their good and evil is at the peril of the public fortune. But
it is a desperate evil in a servant to a prince, or a citizen
in a republic. For whatsoever affairs pass such a man's
hands, he crooketh them to his own ends ; which must needs
be often eccentric to^ the ends of his master or state. There-
fore let princes, or states, choose such servants as have not
this mark; except they mean their service should be made
but the accessory. That which maketh the effect more
pernicious is that all proportion is lost. It were disproportion
enough for the servant's good to be preferred before the
master's ; but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good
of the servant shall carry things against a great good of the
master's. And yet that is the case of bad officers, treasurers,
ambassadors, generals, and other false and corrupt servants;
which set a bias* upon Iheir bowl, of their own petty ends
and envies, to the overthrow of their master's great and
important affairs. And for the most part, the good such
servants receive is after the modeP of their own fortune;
but the hurt they sell for that good is after the model of
their master's fortune. And certainly it is the nature of
extreme self-lovers, as they will set an house on fire, and it
were but to roast their eggs ; and yet these men many times
hold credit with their masters, because their study is but to
please them and profit themselves ; and for either respect
they will abandon the good of their affairs.
Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof,
a depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure
to leave a house somewhat before it fall. It is the wisdom
of the fox, that thrusts out the badger, who digged and made
room for him. It is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed
tears when they would devour. But that which is specially
to be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says of Pompey)
are sui amantes, sine rivali [lovers of themselves without
a rival] are many times unfortunate. And whereas they
have all their times sacrificed to themselves, they become in
the end themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of fortune,
whose wings they sought by their self-wisdom to have
pinioned,
^ Have a different center from. *A weight let into one side, to make
the bowl describe a curve. " Scale.
OF INNOVATIONS 65
XXIV
OF INNOVATIONS
As the births of living creatures at first are ill-shapen, so
are all innovations, which are the births of time. Yet
notwithstanding, as those that first bring honor into their
family are commonly more worthy than most that succeed,
so the first precedent (if it be good) is seldom attained by
imitation. For ill, to man's nature as it stands perverted,
hath a natural motion, strongest in continuance ; but good,
as a forced motion, strongest at first. Surely every medicine
is an innovation ; and he that will not apply new remedies
must expect new evils; for time is the greatest innovator;
and if time of course^ alter things to the worse, and wisdom
and counsel shall not alter them to the better, what shall
be the end? It is true, that what is settled by custom,
though it be not good, yet at least it is fit ; and those things
which have long gone together are as it were confederate
within themselves ; whereas new things piece not so well ;
but though they help by their utility, yet they trouble by
their inconformity. Besides, they are like strangers ; more
admired and less favored. All this is true, if time stood
still ; which contrariwise moveth so round, that a froward^
retention of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation ;
and they that reverence too much old times are but a scorn
to the new. It were good therefore that men in their in-
novations would follow the example of time itself ; which
indeed innovateth greatly, but quietly, by degrees scarce
to be perceived. For otherwise, whatsover is new is un-
looked for; and ever it mends some, and pairs^ other; and
he that is holpen takes it for a fortune, and thanks the time ;
and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and imputeth it to the
author. It is good also not to try experiments in states,
except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident ; and
well to beware that it be the reformation that draweth on
the change, and not the desire of change that pretendeth
the reformation. And lastly, that the novelty, though it be
not rejected, yet be held for a suspect; and, as the Scripture
^ By its course. * Stubborn. ^ Impairs.
HC III 3
66 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
saith, that zi'e make a stand upon the ancient way, and then
look about us, and discover what is the straight and right
way, and so to n'alk in it.
XXV
OF DISPATCH
Affected* dispatch is one of the most dangerous things
to business that can be. It is like that which the physicians
call predigestion, or hasty digestion; which is sure to fill the
body full of crudities and secret seeds of diseases. There*
fore measure not dispatch by the times of sitting, but by tht
advancement of the business. And as in races it is not the
large stride or high lift that makes the speed; so in business,
the keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too much
at once, procureth dispatch. It is the care of some only
to come off speedily for the time; or to contrive some false
periods* of business, because they may seem men of dispatch.
But it is one thing to abbreviate by contracting, another
by cutting off. And business so handled at several sittings
or meetings goeth commonly backward and forward in an
unsteady manner. I knew a wise man that had it for a
by-word, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion. Stay
a little, that we may make an end the sooner.
On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For time
is the measure of business, as money is of wares ; and
business is bought at a dear hand where there is small dis-
patch. The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be
of small dispatch; Mi vcnga la niuerte de Spagna; Let my
death come from Spain; for then it will be sure to be long
in coming.
Give good hearing to those that give the first information
in business; and rather direct them in the beginning than
interrupt them in xht continuance of their speeches: for he
that is put out of his own order will go forward and back-
ward, and be more tedious while he waits upon his memory,
than he could have been if he had gone on in his own
^ Excessively desired. - Only apparently firrished.
OF SEEMING WISE 67
course. But sometimes it is seen that the moderator is
more troublesome than the actor.
Iterations are commonly loss of time. But there is no
such gain of time as to iterate often the state of the question ;
for it chaseth away many a frivolous speech as it is coming
forth. Long and curious' speeches are as fit for dispatch,
as a robe or mantle with a long train is for race. Prefaces
and passages/ and excusations, and other speeches of refer-
ence to the person, are great wastes of time ; and though
they seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery." Yet
beware of being too material^ when there is any impediment
or obstruction in men's wills ; for pre-occupation of mind
ever requireth preface of speech ; like a fomentation to
make the unguent enter.
Above all things, order, and distribution, and singling out
of parts, is the life of dispatch; so as the distribution be not
too subtle : for he that doth not divide will never enter well
into business ; and he that divideth too much will never come
out of it clearly. To choose time is to save time; and an
unseasonable motion is but beating the air. There be three
parts of business ; the preparation, the debate or examination,
and the perfection. Whereof, if you look for dispatch. let
the middle only be the work of many, and the first and last
the work of few. The proceeding upon somewhat conceived
in writing doth for the most part facilitate dispatch : for
though it should be wholly rejected, yet that negative is
more pregnant of direction than an indefinite; as ashes
are more generative than dust.
XXVI
OF SEEMING WISE
It hath been an opinion that the French are wiser than
they seem, and the Spaniards seem wiser than they are. But
howsoever it be between nations, certainly it is so between
man and man. For as the Apostle^ saith of godliness, Hav-
2 Elaborate. * Transitions. ^ Showing off.
* Coming too soon to the point. ' St. Paul.
68 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
itig a shoiv of godliness, hut denying the pozuer thereof; so
certainly there are in point of wisdom and sufficiency, that
do nothing or little very solemnly: magno conatii niigas
[with great effort, trifles]. It is ridiculous thing and fit
for a satire to persons of judgment, to see what shifts
these formalists have, and what prospectives^ to make super-
ficies [a surface] to seem body that hath depth and bulk.
Some are so close and reserved, as they will not show their
wares but by a dark light ; and seem always to keep back
somewhat; and when they know within themselves they
speak of that they do not well know, would nevertheless
seem to others to know of that which they may not well
speak. Some help themselves with countenance and gesture,
and are wise by signs ; as Cicero saith of Piso,that when he an-
swered him, he fetched one of his brows up to his forehead,
and bent the other down to his chin ; Respondes, altero ad
frontem suhlato, altero ad mentum dcpresso supercilio, cru-
dclitatem tibi non placere [You answer, with one eyebrow
lifted to the forehead and the other lowered to the chin,
that cruelty does not please you]. Some think to bear it^ by
speaking a great word, and being peremptory ; and go on,
and take by admittance that which they cannot make good.*
Some, whatsoever is beyond their reach, will seem to despise
or make light of it as impertinent^ or curious -^ and so would
have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are never with-
out a difference, and commonly by amusing men with a
subtility, blanch' the matter; of whom A. Gellius saith,
Hominem delirimi, qui verhorum minntiis rerum frangit
pondera [A foolish man, that with verbal points and niceties
breaks up the mass of matter]. Of which kind also, Plato
in his Protagoras bringeth in Prodius in scorn, and maketh
him make a speech that consisteth of distinctions from the
beginning to the end. Generally, such men in all deliber-
ations find ease to be of the negative side, and affect a credit
to object and foretell difficulties; for when propositions are
denied, there is an end of them; but if they be allowed, it re-
quireth a new work; which false point of wisdom is the bane
of business. To conclude, there is no decaying merchant,
* Stereoscopes. ^ Carry it off. * Assume what they can not prove.
* Irrelevant. * Uselessly elaborate. ' Evade.
OF FRIENDSHIP 69
or inward^ beg-gar, hath so many tricks to uphold the
credit of their wealth, as these empty persons have to main-
tain the credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may
make shift to get opinion; but let no man choose them for
employment; for certainly you were better take for business
a man somewhat absurd^ than over-formal.
XXVII
OF FRIENDSHIP
It had been hard for him that spake^ it to have put more
truth and untruth together in few words, than in that speech,
Whatsoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast
or a god. For it is most true that a natural and secret
hatred and aversation towards society in any man, hath
somewhat of the savage beast ; but it is most untrue that it
should have any character at all of the divine nature ; except
it proceed, not out of a pleasure in soltitude, but out of a
love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher con-
versation :' such as is found to have been falsely and
feignedly in some of the heathen ; as Epimenides the Candian,
Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius
of Tyana ; and truly and really in divers of the ancient
hermits and holy fathers of the church. But little do men
perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For
a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of
pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no
love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little : Magna
civitas, magna solitndo [A great town is a great solitude] ;
because in a great town friends are scattered ; so that there
is not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in less
neighborhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most
truly that it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true
friends ; without which the world is but a wilderness ; and
even in this sense also of solitude, whosoever in the frame
of his nature and affections is unfit for friendship, he taketh
it of the beast, and not from humanity.
* Secretly bankrupt. * Rough. ^ Aristotle. - Intercourse.
70 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge
of the fuhiess and swellings of the heart, which passions
of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of
stoppings and suffocations are the most dangerous in the
body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind; you may
take sarza^ to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flowers
of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain ; but no
receipt openeth the heart, but a true friend ; to whom you
may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and
whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of
civil shrift or confession.
It is a strange thing to observe how high a rate great
kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship
whereof we speak : so great, as they purchase it many times
at the hazard of their own safety and greatness. For
princes, in regard of the distance of their fortune from that
of their subjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit, except
(to make themselves capable thereof) they raise some per-
sons to be as it were companions and almost equals to them-
selves, which many times sorteth to inconvenience. The mod-
ern languages give unto such persons the name of favorites,
or privadoes ; as if it were matter of grace, or conversation.
But the Roman name attaineth the true use and cause there-
of, naming them participes curarum [partners of cares] ; for
it is that which tieth the knot. And we see plainly that this
hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes only,
but by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned ; who
have oftentimes joined to themselves some of their servants ;
whom both themselves have called friends, and allowed
others likewise to call them in the same manner ; using the
word which is received between private men.
L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised Pompey (after
surnamed the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted
himself for Sylla's over-match. For when he had carried
the consulship for a friend of his, against the pursuit of
Sylla. and that Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began
to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and in effect
bade him be quiet; for that more men adored the sun rising
than the sun setting. With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus
s Sarsaparilla.
OF FRIENDSHIP 71
had obtained that interest, as he set him down in his testa-
ment for heir in remainder after his nephew. And this was
the man that had power with him to draw him forth to his
death. For when Caesar would have discharged the senate,
in regard of some ill presages, and specially a dream of Cal-
purnia ; this man lifted him gently by the arm out of his
chair, telling him he hoped he would not dismiss the senate
till his wife had dreamt a better dream. And it seemeth
his favor was so great, as Antonius, in a letter which is
recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, calleth him
venerea, witch; as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus
raised Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as
when he consulted with Maecenas about the marriage of his
daughter Julia, Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, that
he must either marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take azvay
his life: there was no third way, he had made him so great.
With Tiberius Cfesar, Sejanus had ascended to that height,
as they two were termed and reckoned as a pair of friends.
Tiberius in a letter to him saith, Here pro amicitia nostra non
occultavi [These things, as our friendship required. I have
not concealed from you] ; and the whole senate dedicated
an altar to Friendship, as to a goddess, in respect of the
great dearness of friendship between them two. The like
or more was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus.
For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plau-
tianus ; and would often maintain Plautianus in doing
affronts to his son ; and did write also in a letter to the senate,
by these words : / loz'e the man so well, as I zvish he may
over-live me. Now if these princes had been as a Trajan
or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this
had proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature ; but being
men so wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and
so extreme lovers of themselves, as all these were, it proveth
most plainly that they found their own felicity (though as
great as ever happened to mortal men) but as an half piece,*
except they mought have a friend to make it entire ; and yet,
which is more, they were princes that had wives, sons,
nephews; and yet all these could not supply the comfort of
friendship.
* Coin cut in tw o.
72 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
It is not to be forgotten what Comineus observeth of hi3
first master, Duke Charles the Hardy ; namely, that he would
communicate his secrets with none; and least of all, those
secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon he goeth on
and saith that towards his latter time that closeness^ did
impair and a little perish his understanding. Surely Comi-
neus mought have made the same judgment also, if it had
pleased him, of his second master, Lewis the Eleventh, whose
closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable* of Pythag-
oras is dark, but true; Cor ne edito; Eat not the hearts
Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase, those that
want friends to open themselves unto are cannibals of their
own hearts. But one thing is most admirable (wherewith
I will conclude this first fruit of friendship), which is, that
this communicating of a man's self to his friend works two
contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs
in halves. For there is no man that imparteth his joys to
his friend, but he joyeth the more; and no man that imparteth
his griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the less. So that it
is in truth of operation upon a man's mind, of like virtue
as the alchemists use to attribute to their stone^ for man's
body ; that it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the
good and benefit of nature. But yet without praying in aid
of alchemists, there is a manifest image of this in the ordi-
nary course of nature. For in bodies, union strengthened and
cherisheth any natural action ; and on the other side weak-
eneth and dulleth any violent impression : and even so it
is of minds.
The second fruit of friendship is healthful and sovereign
for the understanding, as the first is for the affections. For
friendship maketh indeed a fair day in the affections, from
storm and tempests; but it maketh daylight in the under-
standing, out of darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither
is this to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man
receiveth from his friend ; but before you come to that,
certain it is that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many
thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up,
in the communicating and discoursing with another; he
tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth them more
" Secretiveness. • Proverb. ^ The " philosopher's stone."
OF FRIENDSHIP 73
orderly; he seeth how they look when they are turned into
words : finally, he waxeth wiser than himself ; and that more
by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation. It was
well said by Themistocles to the king of Persia, That speech
was like cloth of Arras, opened and put abroad; whereby the
imagery doth appear in figure f whereas in thoughts they lie
but as in packs. Neither is this second fruit of friendship,
in opening the understanding, restrained only to such friends
as are able to give a man counsel: (they indeed are best;)
but even without that, a man learneth of himself, and bring-
eth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as
against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a man were
better relate himself to a statua or picture, than to suffer hi?
thoughts to pass in smother.'
Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship com-
plete, that other point which lieth more open and falleth
within vulgar observation ; which is faithful counsel from a
friend. Heraclitus saith well in one of his enigmas, Dry
light is ever the best. And certain it is, that the light that a
man receiveth by counsel from another is drier and purer
than that which cometh from his own understanding and
judgment; which is ever infused and drenched in his affec-
tions and customs. So as there is as much difference between
the counsel that a friend giveth, and that a man giveth him-
self, as there is between the counsel of a friend and of a
flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as is a man's self;
and there is no such remedy against flattery of a man's self
as the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts: the one
concerning manners, the other concerning business. For the
first, the best preservative to keep the mind in health is the
faithful admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's self
to a strict account is a medicine, sometime, too piercing and
corrosive. Reading good books of morality is a little flat
and dead. Observing our faults in others is sometimes im-
proper for our case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to
work, and best to take) is the admonition of a friend. It
is a strange thing to behold what gross errors and extreme
absurdities many (especially of the greater sort) do com-
mit, for want of a friend to tell them of them ; to the great
8 Fully displayed. " Suppressed.
74 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
damage both of their fame and fortune : for, as St. James
saith, they are as men that look sometimes into a glass, and
presently forget their ozvn shape and favor. As for busi-
ness, a man may think, if he will, that two eyes see no more
than one ; or that a gamester seeth always more than a look-
er-on; or that a man in anger is as wise as he that hath
said over the four and twenty letters; or that a musket may
be shot ofif as well upon the arm as upon a rest; and such
other fond and high imaginations, to think himself all in all.
But when all is done, the help of good counsel is that which
setteth business straight. And if any man think that he will
take counsel, but it shall be by pieces ; asking counsel in one
business of one man, and in another business of another
man; it is well (that is to say, better perhaps than if he
asked none at all) ; but he runneth two dangers: one. that
he shall not be faithfully counselled ; for it is a rare thing,
except it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have counsel
given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked to some ends
which he hath that giveth it. The other, that he shall have
counsel given, hurtful and unsafe (though with good mean-
ing)^ and mixed partly of mischief and partly of remedy ;
even as if you would call a physician that is thought good
for the cure of the disease you complain of, but is unac-
quainted with your body ; and therefore may put you in way
for a present cure, but overthroweth your health in some
other kind ; and so cure the disease and kill the patient. But a
friend that is wholly acquainted with a man's estate will be-
ware, by furthering any present business, how he dasheth
upon other inconvenience. And therefore rest not upon
scattered counsels ; they will rather distract and mislead,
than settle and direct.
After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the
affections, and support of the judgment), foUoweth the last
fruit; which is like the pomegranate, full of many kernels;
I mean aid and bearing a part in all actions and occasions.
Here the best way to represent to life the manifold use of
friendship is to cast and see how many things there are which
a man cannot do himself ; and then it will appear that it was
a sparing speech of the ancients, to say, that a friend is an-
other himself; for that a friend is far more than himself.
OF EXPENSE 7$
Men have their time, and die many times in desire of some
things which they principally take to heart ; the bestowing""
of a child, the finishing of a work, or the like. If a man
have a true friend, he may rest almost secure that the care
of those things will continue after him. So that a man hath,
as it were, two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and
that body is confined to a place ; but where friendship is, all
offices of life are as it were granted to him and his deputy.
For he may exercise them by his friend. How many things
are there which a man cannot, with any face or comeliness,
say or do himself? A man can scarce allege his own merits
with modesty, much less extol them ; a man cannot some-
times brook to supplicate or beg; and a number of the like.
But all these things are graceful in a friend's mouth, which
are blushing in a man's own. So again, a man's person hath
many proper relations which he cannot put off. A man can-
not speak to his son but as a father; to his wife but as a
husband; to his enemy but upon terms: whereas a friend
may speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the
person. But to enumerate these things were endless ; I have
given the rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own part;
if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage.
XXVIII
OF EXPENSE
Riches are for spending, and spending for honor and good
actions. Therefore extraordinary expense must be limited
by the worth of the occasion ; for voluntary undoing may be
as well for a man's country as for the kingdom of heaven.
But ordinary expense ought to be limited by a man's estate ;
and governed with such regard, as it be within his compass ;
and not subject to deceit and abuse' of servants; and ordered
to the best show, that the bills may be less than the esti-
mation abroad. Certainly, if a man will keep but of even
hand, his ordinary expenses ought to be but to the half of
his receipts; and if he think to wax rich, but to the third
'° Settling in life. * Cheating.
76 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
part. It is no baseness for the greatest to descend and look
into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon negligence
alone, but doubting to bring themselves into melancholy, in
respect they shall find it broken." But wounds cannot be
cured without searching. He that cannot look into his own
estate at all, had need both choose well those whom he em-
ployeth, and change them often ; for new are more timor-
ous and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but
seldom, it behooveth him to turn all to certainties. A man
had need, if he be plentiful in some kind of expense, to be
as saving again in some other. As if he be plentiful in diet,
to be saving in apparel; if he be plentiful in the hall, to
be saving in the stable ; and the like. For he that is plentiful
in expenses of all kinds will hardly be preserved from decay.
In clearing of a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself
in being too sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For
hasty selling is commonly as disadvantageable as interest.
Besides, he that clears at once will relapse; for finding him-
self out of straits, he will revert to his customs: but he that
cleareth by degrees induceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth
as well upon his mind as upon his estate. Certainly, who
hath a state to repair, may not despise small things; and
commonly it is less dishonorable to abridge petty charges,
than to stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to
begin charges which once begun will continue; but in mat-
ters that return not he may be more magnificent.
XXIX
OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATES
The speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was
haughty and arrogant In taking so much to himself, had
been a grave and wise observation and censure, applied at
large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said,
He could not fiddle, hut yet he could make a small town a
great city These words (holpen a little with a metaphor)
may express two differing abilities in those that deal in busi-
» Bankrupt,
OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 77
ness of estate. For if a true survey be taken of counsellors
and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those
which can make a small state great, and yet cannot fiddle ;
as on the other side, there will be found a great many that
can fiddle very cunningly, but yet are so far from being able
to make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way;
to bring a great and flourishing estate to ruin and decay.
And certainly those degenerate arts and shifts, whereby many
counsellors and governors gain both favor with their masters
and estimation with the vulgar, deserve no better name than
fiddling; being things rather pleasing for the time, and grace-
ful to themselves only, than tending to the weal and advance-
ment of the state which they serve. There are also (no
doubt) counsellors and governors which may be held suf-
ficient (ncgotiis pares [equals in business]), able to manage
aflfairs, and to keep them from precipices and manifest in-
conveniences ; which nevertheless are far from the ability to
raise and amplify an estate in power, means, and fortune.
But be the workmen what they may be, let us speak of the
work ; that is, the true greatness of kingdoms and estates,
and the means thereof. An argument fit for great and
mighty princes to have in their hand ; to the end that neither
by over-measuring their forces, they leese* themselves in
vain enterprises ; nor on the other side, by undervaluing them,
they descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels.
The greatness of an estate in bulk and territory doth fall
under n "asure ; and the greatness of finances and revenue
doth fall under computation. The population may appear by
musters ; and the number and greatness of cities and towns
by cards' and maps. But yet there is not any thing amongst
civil affairs more subject to error than the right valuation
and true judgment concerning the power and forces of an
estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any
great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed : which
is one of the least grains, but hath in it a property and spirit
hastily to get up and spread. So are there states great in
territory, and yet not apt to enlarge or command ; and some
that have but a small dimension of stem, and yet apt to be
the foundations of great monarchies.
1 Lose. 3 Charts.
78 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, goodly races
of horse, chariots of war, elephants, ordnance, artillery, and
the like; all this is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the
breed and disposition of the people be stout and warlike.
Nay, number (itself) in armies importeth not much, where
the people is of weak courage; for (as Virgil saith) It
never troubles a zvolf lioiv many the sheep be. The army of
the Persians in the plains of Arbela was such a vast sea
of people, as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in
Alexander's army; who came to him therefore, and wished
him to set upon them by night ; but he answered, He would
not pilfer the victory. And the defeat was easy. When
Tigranes the Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with
four hundred thousand men. discovered the army of the
Romans, being not above fourteen thousand, marching
towards him, he made himself merry with it. and said, Yon-
der men are too many for an embassage, and too few for a
fight. But before the sun set, he found them enow to give
him the chase with infinite slaughter. Many are the ex-
amples of the great odds between number and courage; so
that a man may truly make a judgment, that the principal point
of greatness in any state is to have a race of military men.
Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is trivially'' said),
where the sinews of men's arms, in base and effeminate peo-
ple, are failing. For Solon said w^ell to Croesus (when in
ostentation he showed him his gold), Sir, if any other come
that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this
gold. Therefore let any prince or state think soberly of his
forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant
soldiers. And let princes, on the other side, that have sub-
jects of martial disposition, know their own strength; unless
they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. As for mercen-
ary forces (which is the help in this case), all examples show
that whatsoever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may
spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon
after.
The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet; that
the same people or nation should be both the lion's whelp
and the ass between burthens; neither will it be, that a peo-
8 Commonly.
OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 79
pie overlaid with taxes should ever become valiant and
martial. It is true that taxes levied by consent of the estate
do abate men's courage less : as it hath been seen notably in
the excises of the Low Countries; and, in some degree, in
the subsidies of England. For you must note that we speak
now of the heart and not of the purse. So that although the
same tribute and tax, laid by consent or by imposing, be all
one to the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage.
So that you may conclude, that no people overcharged with
tribute is fit for empire.
Let states that aim at greatness take heed how their no-
bility and gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh
the common subject grow to be a peasant and base swain,
driven out of heart, and in effect but the gentleman's laborer.
Even as you may see in coppice woods ; if you leave your
staddles* too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but
shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the gentlemen be too
many, the commons will be base; and you will bring it to
that, that not the hundred poll' will be fit for an helmet;
especially as to the infantry, which is the nerve' of an army;
and so there will be great population and little strength.
This which I speak of hath been nowhere better seen than
by comparing of England and France ; whereof England,
though far less in territory and population, hath been (never-
theless) an over-match; in regard the middle people of Eng-
land make good soldiers, which the peasants of France do
not. And herein the device of king Henry the Seventh
(whereof I have spoken largely in the History of his Life)
was profound and admirable ; in making farms and houses of
husbandry of a standard; that is, maintained with such a
proportion of land unto them, as may breed a subject to live
in convenient plenty and no servile condition; and to keep
the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere hire-
lings. And thus indeed you shall attain to Virgil's character
which he gives to ancient Italy:
Terra potens armis atque ubere glebse.
[A land powerful in arms and in productiveness of soil.]
Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost
* Young trees left standing. ^ Hundredth head. * Sinew.
80 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
peculiar to England, and hardly to be found anywhere else,
except it be perhaps in Poland) to be passed over; I mean
the state of free servants and attendants upon noblemen and
gentlemen; which are no ways inferior unto the yeomanry
for arms. And therefore out of all question, the splendor
and magnificence and great retinues and hospitality of noble-
men and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce
unto martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close
and reserved living of noblemen and gentlemen causeth a
penury of military forces.
By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of Nebu-
chadnezzar's tree'' of monarchy be great enough to bear the
branches and the boughs ; that is, that the natural subjects
of the crown or state bear a sufficient proportion to the
stranger subjects that they govern. Therefore all states that
are liberal of naturalization towards strangers are fit for
empire. For to think that an handful of people can, with
the greatest courage and policy in the world, embrace too
large extent of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will
fail suddenly. The Spartans were a nice* people in point
of naturalization ; whereby, while they kept their compass,
they stood firm ; but when they did spread, and their boughs
were becomen too great for their stem, they became a wind-
fall upon the sudden. Never any state was in this point so
open to receive strangers into their body as were the Romans.
Therefore it sorted with them accordingly ; for they grew
to the greatest monarchy. Their manner was to grant natu-
ralization (which they called j\is civitatis [the right of citi-
zenship] ) , and to grant it in the highest degree ; that is,
not only jus commercii [the right to commercial trade], jus
connubii [the right to intermarry], jus hccrcditatis [the right
of inheritance] ; but also jus stiff ragii [the right of suffrage],
and jus honorum [the right of holding office]. And this not
to singular persons alone, but likewise to whole families;
yea to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this their
custom of plantation of colonies ; whereby the Roman plant
was removed into the soil of other nations. And putting both
constitutions together, you will say that it was not the Romans
that spread upon the world, but it was the world that spread
* Daniel iv. lo. * Particular.
OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 81
upon the Romans ; and that was the sure way of greatness.
I have marvelled sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and
contain so large dominions with so few natural Spaniards;
but sure the whole compass of Spain is a very great body
of a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at the first. And
besides, though they have not had that usage to naturalize
liberally, yet they have that which is next to it; that is, to
employ almost indifferently all nations in their militia of ordi-
nary soldiers; yea and sometimes in their highest commands.
Nay it seemeth at this instant they are sensible of this want
of natives; as by the Pragmatical Sanction,® now published,
appeareth.
It is certain that sedentary and within-door arts, and
delicate manufactures (that require rather the finger than
the arm), have in their nature a contrariety to a military
disposition. And generally, all warlike people are a little
idle and love danger better than travail. Neither must they
be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserved in
vigor. Therefore it was great advantage in the ancient states
of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the
use of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures.
But that is abolished, in greater part, by the Christian law.
That which cometh nearest to it is to leave those arts chiefly
to strangers (which for that purpose are the more easily to
be received), and to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar
natives within those three kinds, — tillers of the ground ; free
servants; and handicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, as
smiths, masons, carpenters, etc. ; not reckoning professed
soldiers.
But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most,
that a nation do profess arms as their principal honor, study,
and occupation. For the things which we formerly have
spoken of are but habilitations towards arms; and what is
habilitation without intention and act? Romulus, after his
death (as they report or feign). sent a present to the Romans,
that above all they should intend'" arms ; and then they should
prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of the
state of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed and
'A decree "which gave certain privileges to persons who married, and
further immunities to those who had six children." '" Pay attention to.
82 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
composed to that scope and end. The Persians and Mace-
donians had it for a flash. The Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons,
Normans, and others, had it for a time. The Turks have it
at this day, though in great declination. Of Christian
Europe, they that have it are, in effect, only the Spaniards.
But it is so plain that every man profit eth in that he most
intendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon. It is enough
to point at it; that no nation which doth not directly pro-
fess arms may look to have greatness fall into their mouths.
And on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that
those states that continue long in that profession (as the
Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders. And
those that have professed arms but for an age, have notwith-
standing commonly attained that greatness in that age which
maintained them long after, when their profession and ex-
ercise of arms hath grown to decay.
Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or
customs which may reach forth unto them just occasions
(as may be pretended) of war. For there is that justice
imprinted in the nature of men, that they enter not upon
wars (whereof so many calamities do ensue) but upon some,
at the least specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath
at hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law or
sect ; a quarrel that he may always command. The Romans,
though they esteemed the extending the limits of their empire
to be great honor to their generals when it was done, yet
they never rested upon that alone to begin a war. First
therefore, let nations that pretend to greatness have this ; that
they be sensible of^' wrongs, either upon borderers, mer-
chants, or politic ministers; and that they sit not too long
upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be prest"" and ready
to give aids and succors to their confederates; as it ever
was with the Romans; insomuch, as if the confederate had
leagues defensive with divers other states, and. upon invasion
offered, did implore their aids severally, yet the Romans
would ever be the foremost, and leave it to none other to have
the honor. As for the wars which were anciently made on
the behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of estate,
I do not see how they may be well justified: as when the
^ Sensitive to. " Prepared.
OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS 83
Romans made a war for the liberty of Grecia; or when the
Lacedaemonians and Athenians made wars to set up or pull
down democracies and oligarchies ; or when wars were made
by foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protection,
to deliver the subjects of others from tyranny and oppres-
sion ; and the like. Let it suffice, that no estate expect to be
great, that is not awake upon any just occasion of arming.
No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural
body nor politic; and certainly to a kingdom or estate, a just
and honorable war is the true exercise. A civil war, indeed,
is like the heat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the
heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health ; for
in a slothful peace, both courages will effeminate and man-
ners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without
all question, for greatness it maketh, to be still for the most
part in arms; and the strength of a veteran army (though
it be a chargeable business) always on foot is that which
commonly giveth the law, or at least the reputation, amongst
all neighbor states; as may well be seen in Spain, which hath
had, in one part or other, a veteran army almost continually,
now by the space of six score years.
To be master of the sea is an abridgment" of a monarchy.
Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompey his preparation against
Caesar, saith. Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est;
putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri [Pompey is
going upon the policy of Themistocles ; thinking that he who
commands the sea commands all]. And. without doubt,
Pompey had tired out Caesar, if upon vain confidence he had
not left that way. We see the great eft'ects of battles by
sea. The battle of Actium decided the empire of the world.
The battle of Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk.
There be many examples where sea-fights have been final
to the war; but this is when princes or states have set up
their rest upon the battles. But thus much is certain, that
he that commands the sea is at great liberty, and may take
as much and as little of the war as he will. Whereas those
that be strongest by land are many times nevertheless in
great straits. Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, the
vantage of strength at sea (which is one of the principal
^^"A monarchy in miniature."
84 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain) is great; both
because most of the kingdoms of Europe are not merely
inland, but girt with the sea most part of their compass; and
because the wealth of both Indies seems in great part but
an accessory to the command of the seas.
The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in
respect of the glory and honor which reflected upon men
from the wars in ancient time. There be now, for martial
encouragement, some degrees and orders of chivalry ; which
nevertheless are conferred promiscuously upon soldiers and
no soldiers ; and some remembrance perhaps upon the scutch-
eon; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers; and such
like things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon
the place of the victory ; the funeral laudatives and monu-
ments for those that died in the wars ; the crowns and gar-
lands personal ; the style of emperor, which the great kings
of the world after borrowed ; the triumphs of the generals
upon their return; the great donatives and largesses upon
the disbanding of the armies ; were things able to inflame
all men's courages. But above all, that of the triumph,
amongst the Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but
one of the wisest and noblest institutions that ever was. For
it contained three things : honor to the general ; riches to
the treasury out of the spoils ; and donatives to the army.
But that honor perhaps were not fit for monarchies ; except
it be in the person of the monarch himself, or his sons; as
it came to pass in the times of the Roman emperors, who
did impropriate the actual triumphs to themselves and their
sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person ; and left
only, for wars achieved by subjects, some triumphal gar-
ments and ensigns to the general.
To conclude: no man can by care taking (as the Scripture
saith) add a cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man's
body ; but in the great frame of kingdoms and common-
wealths, it is in the power of princes or estates to add
amplitude and greatness to their kingdoms; for by intro-
ducing such ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as we
have now touched, they may sow greatness to their posterity
and succession. But these things are commonly not ob-
served, but left to take their chance.
OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH 85
XXX
OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH
There is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of physic: a
man's own observation, what he finds good of, and what he
finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health. But it
is a safer conclusion to say. This agreeth not well with me,
therefore I will not continue it; than this, / find no offence
of this, therefore I may use it. For strength of nature in
youth passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man
till his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think
not to do the same things still ; for age will not be defied.
Beware of sudden change in any great point of diet, and
if necessity inforce it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secret
both in nature and state, that it is safer to change many things
than one. Examine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise,
apparel, and the like; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge
hurtful, to discontinue it by little and little; but so, as if
thou dost find any inconvenience by the change, thou come
back to it again : for it is hard to distinguish that which is
generally held good and wholesome, from that which is good
particularly, and fit for thine own body. To be free-minded
and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of sleep and
of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As
for the passions and studies of the mind; avoid envy; anxious
fears; anger fretting inwards; subtle and knotty inquisitions;
joys and exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated.
Entertain hopes; mirth rather than joy; variety of delights,
rather than surfeit of them ; wonder and admiration, and
therefore novelties; studies that fill the mind with splendid
and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contempla-
tions of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it will
be too strange for your body when you shall need it. If you
make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect
when sickness cometh. I commend rather some diet for
certain seasons, than frequent use of physic, except it be
grown into a custom. For those diets alter the body more
and trouble it less. Despise no new accident in your body,
but ask opinion of it. In sickness, respect health principally;
86 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
and in health, action. For those that put their bodies to
endure in health, may in most sicknesses, which are not
very sharp, be cured only with diet and tendering/ Celsus
could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not been
a wise man withal, when he giveth it for one of the great
precepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary and in-
terchange contraries, but with an inclination to the more
benign extreme : use fasting and full eating, but rather full
eating ; watching and sleep, but rather sleep ; sitting and
exercise, but rather exercise; and the like. So shall nature
be cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physicians are some
of them so pleasing and conformable to the humor of the
patient, as they press not the true cure of the disease; and
some other are so regular in proceeding according to art for
the disease, as they respect not sufficiently the condition of
the patient. Take one of a middle temper; or if it may
not be found in one man. combine two of either sort ; and
forget not to call as well the best acquainted with your
body, as the best reputed of for his faculty."
XXXI
OF SUSPICION
Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats amongst birds,
they ever fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed.
or at least well guarded : for they cloud the mind ; they leese'
friends ; and they check with business, whereby business
cannot go on currently and constantly. They dispose kings
to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution
and melancholy. They are defects, not in the heart, but in
the brain ; for they take place in the stoutest" natures ; as
in the example of Henry the Seventh of England. There
was not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in
such a composition they do small hurt. For commonly they
are not admitted, but with examination, whether they be
likely or no. But in fear'ful natures they gain ground too
fast. There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more
' Nursing. - Ability. i Lose. - Bravest.
OF DISCOURSE 87
than to know little; and therefore men should remedy sus-
picion by procuring to know more, and not to keep their
suspicions in smother/ What would men have? Do they
think those they employ and deal with are saints? Do they
not think they will have their own ends, and be truer to
themselves than to them? Therefore there is no better way
to moderate suspicions, than to account upon such suspicions
as true and yet to bridle them as false. For so far a man
ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if that
should be true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.
Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers are but buzzes ;
but suspicions that are artificially nourished, and put into
men's heads by the tales and whisperings of others, have
stings. Certainly, the best mean to clear the way in this
same wood of suspicions is frankly to communicate thera
with the party that he suspects ; for thereby he shall be sure
to know more of the truth of them than he did before ; and
withal shall make that party more circumspect not to give
further cause of suspicion. But this would not be done to
men of base natures; for they, if they find themselves once
suspected, will never be true. The Italian says, Sospetto
licentia fcde;* as if suspicion did give a passport to faith;
but it ought rather to kindle it to discharge itself.
XXXII
OF DISCOURSE
Some in their discourse desire rather commendation of
wit, in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment,
in discerning what is true; as if it were a praise to know
what might be said, and not what should be thought. Some
have certain common places and themes wherein they are
good, and want variety ; which kind of poverty is for the
most part tedious, and when it is once perceived, ridiculous.
The honorablest part of talk is to give the occasion ;
and again to moderate^ and pass to somewhat else ; for then
^ Suppressed. * /. c, suspicion justifies breaking failh.
^ Guide the discussion.
88 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
a man leads the dance. It is good, in discourse and speech
of conversation, to vary and intermingle speech of the
present occasion with arguments, tales with reasons, asking
of questions with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest:
for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now. to jade,^
any thing too far. As for jest, there be certain things which
ought to be privileged from it; namely, religion, matters of
state, great persons, any man's present business of im-
portance, and any case that deserveth pity. Yet there be
some that think their wits have been asleep, except they
dart out somewhat that is piquant, and to the quick. That
is a vein which would be bridled :
Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris.
[Spare, boy, the whip and tighter hold the reins.] And
generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness
and bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as
he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid
of others' memory. He that questioneth much shall learn
much, and content much ; but especially if he apply his ques-
tions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh; for he
shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking,
and himself shall continually gather knowledge. But let
his questions not be troublesome ; for that is fit for a poser.'
And let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak.
Nay, if there be any that would reign and take up all the
time, let him find means to take them off. and to bring others
on ; as musicians use to do with those that dance too long
galliards. If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of
that you are thought to know, you shall be thought another
time to know that you know not. Speech of a man's self
ought to be seldom, and well chosen. I knew one was wont
to say in scorn. He must needs he a zvise man. he speaks
so much of himself: and there is but one case wherein a
man may commend himself with good grace; and that is in
commending virtue in another; especially if it be such a
virtue whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch*
towards others should be sparingly used; for discourse ought
to be as a field, without coming home to any man. I knew
2 Tire with overdriving. ^ Examiner. * Personal, touching a sore spot
OF PLANTATIONS 89
two noblemen, of the west part of England, whereof the one
was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his house ;
the other would ask of those that had been at the other's
table. Tell truly zvas there never a flout or dry blozv^ given f
To which the guest would answer, Such and such a thing
passed. The lord would say, / thought he zvould mar a good
dinner. Discretion of speech is more than eloquence ; and
to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal, is more than
to speak in good words or in good order. A good continued
speech, without a good speech of interlocution, shows slow-
ness : and a good reply or second speech, without a good
settled speech, showeth shallowness and weakness. As we
see in beasts, that those that are weakest in the course are
yet nimblest in the turn ; as it is betwixt the greyhound and
the hare. To use too many circumstances ere one come to
the matter, is wearisome ; to use none at all, is blunt.
XXXIII
OF PLANTATIONS*
Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical
works. When the world was young it begat more children;
but now it is old it begets fewer: for I may justly account
new plantations to be the children of former kingdoms. I
like a plantation in a pure soil ; that is, where people are
not displanted to the end to plant in others. For else it is
rather an extirpation than a plantation. Planting of coun-
tries is like planting of woods ; for you must make account
to leese" almost twenty years' profit, and expect your recom-
pense in the end. For the principal thing that hath been
the destruction of most plantations, hath been the base and
hasty drawing of profit in the first years. It is true, speedy
profit is not to be neglected, as far as may stand with the
good of the plantation, but no further. It is a shameful and
unblessed thing to take the scum of people, and wicked
condemned men. to be the people with whom you plant;
and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation ; for they will
* Scornful jest. ' Colonies. * Lose.
90 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy,
and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary,
and then certify' over to their country to the discredit of
the plantation. The people wherewith you plant ought to
be gardeners, ploughmen, laborers, smiths, carpenters, joiners,
fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons,
cooks, and bakers. In a country of plantation, first look
about what kind of victual the country yields of itself to
hand; as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives, dates, plums,
cherries, wild honey, and the like ; and make use of them.
Then consider what victual or esculent things there are,
which grow speedily, and within the year ; as parsnips, car-
rots, turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Hierusalem, maize,
and the like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask too
much labor; but with pease and beans you may begin, both
because they ask less labor, and because they serve for
meat as well as for bread. And of rice likewise cometh a
great increase, and it is a kind of meat. Above all, there
ought to be brought store of biscuit, oat-meal, flour, meal,
and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. For
beasts, or birds, take chiefly such as are least subject to
diseases, and multiply fastest ; as swine, goats, cocks, hens,
turkeys, geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual in
plantations ought to be expended almost as in a besieged
town ; that is, with certain allowance. And let the main
part of the ground employed to gardens or corn, be to a com-
mon stock; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then
delivered out in proportion ; besides some spots of ground
that any particular person will manure for his own private.
Consider likewise what commodities the soil where the plan-
tation is doth naturally yield, that they may some way help
to defray the charge of the plantation (so it be not, as was
said, to the untimely prejudice of the main business), as
it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood commonly
aboundeth but too much; and therefore timber is fit to be
one. If there be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set
the mills, iron is a brave* commodity where wood aboundeth.
Making of bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would
be put in experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is
* Send word. * Fine.
OF PLANTATIONS 91
a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs and
pines are, will not fail. So drugs and sweet woods, where
they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise,
and other things that may be thought of. But moii° not
too much under groimd ; for the hope of mines is very un-
certain, and useth to make the planters lazy in other things.
For government, let it be in the hands of one, assisted
with some counsel ; and let them have commission to exercise
martial laws, with some limitation. And above all, let men
make that profit of being in the wilderness, as they have God
always, and his service, before their eyes. Let not the
government of the plantation depend upon too many counsel-
lors and undertakers in the country that planteth, but upon
a temperate number; and let those be rather noblemen and
gentlemen, than merchants ; for they look ever to the present
gain. Let there be freedom from custom," till the plantation be
of strength ; and not only freedom from custom, but freedom
to carry their commodities where they may make their best
of them, except there be some special cause of caution.
Cram not in people, by sending too fast company after com-
pany; but rather harken how they waste, and send supplies
proportionably ; but so as the number may live well in the
plantation, and not by surcharge^ be in penury. It hath
been a great endangering to the health of some plantations,
that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish and
unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there,
to avoid carriage and other like discommodities, yet build
still rather upwards from, the streams than along. It con-
cerneth likewise the health of the plantation that they have
good store of salt with them, that they may use it in their
victuals, when it shall be necessary. If you plant where sav-
ages are, do not only entertain them with trifles and gingles,
but use them justly and graciously, with sufficient guard
nevertheless ; and do not win their favor by helping them to
invade their enemies, but for their defence it is not amiss ;
and send oft of them over to the country that plants, that
they may see a better condition than their own, and commend
it when they return. When the plantation grows to strength,
then it is time to plant with women as well as with men ; that
* Drudge. " Duties on imports and exports. ' Overloading.
92 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
the plantation may spread into generations, and not be ever
pieced from without. It is the sinfullest thing in the world
to forsake or destitute a plantation once in forwardness;
for besides the dishonor, it is the guiltiness of blood of many
commiserable^ persons.
XXXIV
OF RICHES
I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue.
The Roman word is better, impedimenta. For as the bag-
gage is to an army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be
spared nor left behind, but it hindereth the march ; yea,
and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory.
Of great riches there is no real use, except it be in the dis-
tribution; the rest is but conceit. So saith Solomon, Where
much iSj there are many to consume it; and zdiat hath the
ozvner but the sight of it with his eyes? The personal
fruition in any man cannot reach to feel great riches: there
is a custody of them ; or a power of dole and donative of
them ; or a fame of them ; but no solid use to the owner. Do
you not see what feigned prices are set upon little stones and
rarities? and what works of ostentation are undertaken,
because there might seem to be some use of great riches?
But then you will say, they may be of use to buy men out of
dangers or troubles. As Solomon saith, Riches are as a
strong hold, in the imagination of the rich man. But this
is excellently expressed, that it is in imagination, and not
always in fact. For certainly great riches have sold more
men than they have bought out. Seek not proud riches, but
such as thou mayest get justly, use soberly, distribute cheer-
fully, and leave contentedly. Yet have no abstract nor
friarly contempt of them. But distinguish, as Cicero saith
well of Rabirius Posthumus, In studio rei amplificandce ap-
parebat, non avaritia; prcsdam, sed instriinientum bonitati
quceri [In seeking to increase his estate it was apparent that
he sought not a prey for avarice to feed on, but an instrument
for goodness to work with]. Harken also to Solomon, and
* Deserving pity.
OF RICHES 93
beware of hasty gathering of riches; Qui festinaf ad divitias,
non erit insons [He that maketh haste to be rich shall not
be innocent]. The poets feign, that when Plutus (which is
Riches) is sent from Jupiter, he limps and goes slowly; but
when he is sent from Pluto, he runs and is swift of foot.
Meaning that riches gotten by good means and just labor
pace slowly; but when they come by the death of others
(as by the course of inheritance, testaments, and the like),
they come tumbling upon a man. But it mought be applied
likewise to Pluto, taking him for the devil. For when riches
come from the devil (as by fraud and oppression and unjust
means), they come upon speed. The ways to enrich are
many, and most of them foul. Parsimony is one of the
best, and yet is not innocent ; for it withholdeth men from
works of liberality and charity. The improvement of the
ground is the most natural obtaining of riches ; for it is our
great mother's blessing, the earth's ; but it is slow. And yet
where men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, it multi-
plieth riches exceedingly. I knew a nobleman in England, that
had the greatest audits^ of any man in my time ; a great grazier,
a great sheep-master, a great timber man, a great collier,
a great corn-master, a great lead-man, and so of iron, and
a number of the like points of husbandry. So as the earth
seemed a sea to him, in respect of the perpetual importation.
It was truly observed by one, that himself came very hardly
to a little riches, and very easily to great riches. For when
a man's stock is come to that, that he can expect the prime
of markets, and overcome those bargains which for their
greatness are few men's money, and be partner in the in-
dustries of younger men, he cannot but increase mainly.
The gains of ordinary trades and vocations are honest ; and
furthered by two things chiefly : by diligence, and by a good
name for good and fair dealing. But the gains of bargains
are of a more doubtful nature ; when men shall wait upon'
others' necessity, broke^ by servants and instruments to draw
them on, put off others cunningly that would be better chap-
men,* and the like practices, which are crafty and naught.
As for the chopping of bargains, when a man buys not to
hold but to sell over again, that commonly grindeth double,
* Revenues. - Watch for. " Deal. ■* Traders.
94 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
both upon the seller and upon the buyer. Sharings do
greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that are trusted.
Usury is the certainest means of gain, though one of the
worst; as that whereby a man doth eat his bread in sudore
vultus alieni [in the sweat of another man's face] ; and be-
sides, doth plough upon Sundays. But yet certain though it
be, it hath flaws; for that the scriveners and brokers do
value" unsound men to serve their own turn. The fortune in
being the first in an invention or in a privilege doth cause
sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches ; as it was with
the first sugar man in the Canaries. Therefore if a man
can play the true logician, to have as well judgment as in-
vention, he may do great matters ; especially if the times
be fit. He that resteth upon gains certain shall hardly grow
to great riches ; and he that puts all upon adventures doth
oftentimes break and come to poverty : it is good therefore
to guard adventures with certainties, that may uphold losses.
Monopolies, and coemption of* wares for re-sale, where they
are not restrained, are great means to enrich; especially if
the party have intelligence what things are like to come
into request, and so store himself beforehand. Riches gotten
by service, though it be of the best rise,'' yet when they
are gotten by flattery, feeding humors, and other servile con-
ditions, they may be placed amongst the worst. As for
fishing for testaments and executorships (as Tacitus saith of
Seneca, test amenta et orbos tamquam indagine capi [he took
testaments and wardships as with a net]), it is yet worse;
by how much men submit themselves to meaner persons than
in service. Believe not much them that seem to despise
riches ; for they despise them that despair of them ; and none
worse when they come to them. Be not penny-wise ; riches
have wings, and sometimes they fly away of themselves,
sometimes they must be set flying to bring in more.
Men leave their riches either to their kindred, or to the
public ; and moderate portions prosper best in both. A great
state left to an heir, is as a lure to all the birds of prey round
about to seize on him, if he be not the better stablished in
years and judgment. Likewise glorious" gifts and foun-
^ Represent as sound. • Buying up. '' Latin, though it have a
certain dignity. * Showy.
OF PROPHECIES 95
dations are like sacrifices ivithout salt; and but the painted
sepulchres of ahns, which soon will putrefy and corrupt in-
wardly. Therefore measure not thine advancements by quan-
tity, but frame them by measure: and defer not charities till
death ; for, certainly, if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth
so is rather liberal of another man's than of his own.
XXXV
OF PROPHECIES
I MEAN not to speak of divine prophecies ; nor of heathen
oracles; nor of natural predictions; but only of prophecies
that have been of certain memory, and from hidden causes.
Saith the Pythonissa' to Saul, To-morrow thou and thy son
shall be zvith me. Homer hath these verses:
At domtis Mn^ai cunctis dominabitur oris,
Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis.
[But the house of ^Eneas shall reign in all lands, and his
children's children, and their generations.] A prophecy, as
it seems, of the Roman empire. Seneca the tragedian hath
these verses:
Venient aunis
Sfficula seris, quibus Oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Pateat Tellus, Tiphysque novos
Detegat orbes; nee sit terris
Ultima Thule
[There shall come a time when the bands of ocean shall be
loosened, and the vast earth shall be laid open ; another
Tiphys shall disclose new worlds, and lands shall be seen
beyond Thule] : a prophecy of the discovery of America.
The daughter of Polycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed her
father, and Apollo anointed him ; and it came to pass that
he was crucified in an open place, where the sun made his
body run with sweat, and the rain washed it. Philip of
Macedon dreamed he sealed up his wife's belly ; whereby he
1 Witch of Endor.
96 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
did expound it, that his wife should be barren ; but Aristander
the soothsayer told him his wife was with child, because men
do not use to seal vessels that are empty. A phantasm that
appeared to M. Brutus in his tent, said to him, Philippis
iterum me vidcbis [Thou shall see me again at Philippi],
Tiberius said to Galba, Tu quoque, Galba, degustabis im-
perium [Thou likewise, Galba, shall taste of empire]. In
Vespasian's time, there went a prophecy in the East, that
those that should come forth of Judea should reign over the
world : which though it may be was meant of our Savior ;
yet Tacitus expounds it of Vespasian. Domitian dreamed,
the night before he was slain, that a golden head was grow-
ing out of the nape of his neck : and indeed the succession
that followed him for many years, made golden times.
Henry the Sixth of England said of Henry the Seventh,
when he was a lad, and gave him water. This is the lad that
shall enjoy the crozvn for which we strive. When I was in
France, I heard from one Dr. Pena, that the Queen Mother,
who was given to curious arts, caused the King her husband's
nativity to be calculated, under a false name; and the as-
trologer gave a judgment, that he should be killed in a duel;
at which the Queen laughed, thinking her husband to be
above challenges and duels : but he was slain upon a course
at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery going in at
his beaver." The trivial^ prophecy, which I heard when I
was a child, and Queen Elizabeth was in the flower of her
years, was,
When hempe is spun
England's done :
whereby it was generally conceived, that after the princes
had reigned which had the principal letters of that word
hempe (which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and
Elizabeth), England should come to utter confusion; which,
thanks be to God, is verified only in the change of the name ;
for that the King's style* is now no more of England, but of
Britain. There was also another prophecy, before the year
of '88, which I do not well understand.
* The movable face part of a helmet. ' Common. * Title.
OF PROPHECIES 97
There shall be seen upon a day,
Between the Baugh and the May,
The black fleet of Norway.
When that that is come and gone,
England build houses of lime and stone,
For after wars shall you have none.
It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spanish fleet
that came in '88 : for that the king of Spain's surname, as
they say, is Norway. The prediction of Regiomontanus,
Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus
[The eighty-eighth, a year of wonders], was thought like-
wise accomplished in the sending of that great fleet, being
the greatest in strength, though not in number, of all that
ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's dream, I think it
was a jest. It was, that he was devoured of a long dragon;
and it was expounded of a maker of sausages, that troubled
him exceedingly. There are numbers of the like kind ; es-
pecially if you include dreams, and predictions of astrology.
But I have set down these few only of certain credit, for
example. My judgment is, that they ought all to be de-
spised; and ought to serve but for winter talk by the fireside.
Though when I say despised, I mean it as for belief; for
otherwise, the spreading or publishing of them is in no sort
to be despised. For they have done much mischief ; and I
see many severe laws made to suppress them. That that
hath given them grace, and some credit, consisteth in three
things. First, that men mark when they hit, and never mark
when they miss ; as they do generally also of dreams. The
second is, that probable conjectures, or obscure traditions,
many times turn themselves into prophecies ; while the
nature of man, which coveteth divination, thinks it no peril
to foretell that which indeed they do but collect.^ As that
of Seneca's verse. For so much was then subject to dem-
onstration, that the globe of the earth had great parts beyond
the Atlantic, which mought be probably conceived not to be
all sea : and adding thereto the tradition in Plato's Timseus,
and his Atlanticus, it mought encourage one to turn it to a
prediction. The third and last (which is the great one) is,
» Infer.
HC III 4
98 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
that almost all of them, being infinite in number, have been
impostures, and by idle and crafty brains merely contrived
and feigned after the event past.
XXXVI
OF AMBITION
Ambition is like choler; which is an humor^ that maketh
men active, earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be not
stopped. But if it be stopped, and cannot have his way, it
becometh adust,' and thereby malign and venomous. So am-
bitious men, if they find the way open for their rising, and
still get forward, they are rather busy than dangerous ; but
if they be checked in their desires, they become secretly
discontent, and look upon men and matters with an evil eye,
and are best pleased when things go backward ; which is the
worst property in a servant of a prince or state. Therefore
it is good for princes, if they use ambitious men, to handle
it so as they be still progressive and not retrograde; which
because it cannot be without inconvenience, it is good not
to use such natures at all. For if they rise not with their
service, they will take order to make their service fall with
them. But since we have said it were good not to use men
of ambitious natures, except it be upon necessity, it is fit we
speak in what cases they are of necessity. Good command-
ers in the wars must be taken, be they never so ambitious;
for the use of their service dispenseth with the rest; and to
take a soldier without ambition is to pull off his spurs. There
is also great use of ambitious men in being screens to princes
in matters of danger and envy; for no man will take that
part, except he be like a seeled* dove, that mounts and mounts
because he cannot see about him. There is use also of ambi-
tious men in pulling down the greatness of any subject that
overtops; as Tiberius used Macro in the pulling down of
' According to the old physiology, the body contained four humors— blood,
phlegm, choler (red bile), melancholy (black bile)— the varying combination
of which determined the individual temperament.
* Scorched, overheated. 'With the eyelids sewed together.
OF AMBITION 99
Sejanus. Since therefore they must be used in such cases,
there resteth to speak how they are to be bridled, that they
may be less dangerous. There is less danger of them if they
be of mean birth, than if they be noble ; and if they be rather
harsh of nature, than gracious and popular : and if they be
rather new raised, than grown cunning and fortified in their
greatness. It is counted by some a weakness in princes to
have favorites ; but it is of all others the best remedy against
ambitious great-ones. For when the way of pleasuring and
displeasuring lieth by the favorite, it is impossible any other
should be over-great. Another means to curb them is to
balance them by others as proud as they. But then there
must be some middle counsellors, to keep things steady ; for
without that ballast the ship will roll too much. At the least,
a prince may animate and inure^ some meaner persons, to be
as it were scourges to ambitious men. As for the having of
them obnoxious" to ruin; if they be of fearful natures, it may
do well ; but if they be stout and daring, it may precipitate
their designs, and prove dangerous. As for the pulling of
them down, if the affairs require it, and that it may not be
done with safety suddenly, the only way is the interchange
continually of favors and disgraces ; whereby they may not
know what to expect, and be as it were in a wood." Of am-
bitions, it is less harmful, the ambition to prevail in great
things, than that other, to appear in every thing; for that
breeds confusion, and mars business. But yet it is less dan-
ger to have an ambitious man stirring in business, than great
in dependences. He that seeketh to be eminent amongst able
men hath a great task ; but that is ever good for the public.
But he that plots to be the only figure amongst ciphers is
the decay of a whole age. Honor hath three things in it :
the vantage ground to do good; the approach to kings and
principal persons ; and the raising of a man's own fortunes.
He that hath the best of these intentions, when he aspireth,
is an honest man ; and that prince that can discern of these
intentions in another that aspireth, is a wise prince. Gen-
erally, let princes and states choose such ministers as are
more sensible of duty than of rising ; and such as love busi-
* Accustom. ^ Liable. ' Maze.
100 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
ness rather upon conscience than upon bravery,' and let them
discern a busy nature from a wilHng mind.
XXXVII
OF MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS
These things are but toys, to come amongst such serious
observations. But yet, since princes will have such things,
it is better they should be graced with elegancy than daubed
with cost. Dancing to song is a thing of great state and
pleasure. I understand it, that the song be in quire, placed
aloft, and accompanied with some broken music ;^ and the
ditty fitted to the device. Acting in song, especially in dia-
logues, hath an extreme good grace; I say acting, not
dancing (for that is a mean and vulgar thing) ; and the
voices of the dialogue would be strong and manly (a base
and a tenor; no treble) ; and the ditty high and tragical;
not nice or dainty. Several quires, placed one over against
another, and taking the voice by catches, anthem-wise, give
great pleasure. Turning dances into figure is a childish
curiosity. And generally let it be noted, that those things
which I here set down are such as do naturally take the
sense, and not respect petty wonderments. It is true, the
alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without noise, are
things of great beauty and pleasure; for they feed and re-
lieve the eye, before it be full of the same object. Let the
scenes abound with light, specially colored and varied ; and
let the masquers, or any other, that are to come down from
the scene, have some motions upon the scene itself before
their coming down ; for it draws the eye strangely, and
makes it with great pleasure to desire to see that it cannot
perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud and cheerful, and
not chirpings or pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp
and loud, and well placed. The colors that show best by
candle-light are white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water-
green ; and oes,' or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so
they are of most glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost
' Ostentation. ^ Part music, for different instruments. ' Round spangles.
OF NATURE IN MEN 101
and not discerned. Let the suits of the masquers be grace-
ful, and such as become the person when the vizors are off;
not after examples of known attires ; Turks, soldiers, mari-
ners, and the like. Let anti-masques not be long; they have
been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild-men, antics,"
beasts, sprites, witches, Ethiops, pigmies, turquets,* nymphs,
rustics, Cupids, statuas moving, and the like. As for angels,
it is not comical enough to put them in anti-masques ; and
anything that is hideous, as devils, giants, is on the other
side as unfit. But chiefly, let the music of them be recrea-
tive, and with some strange changes. Some sweet odors
suddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, in
such a company as there is steam and heat, things of great
pleasure and refreshment. Double masques, one of men,
another of ladies, addeth state and variety. But all is noth-
ing except the room be kept clear and neat.
For justs, and tourneys, and barriers; the glories of them
are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their
entry; especially if they be drawn with strange beasts: as
lions, bears, camels, and the like ; or in the devices of their
entrance; or in the bravery of their liveries; or in the
goodly furniture of their horses and armor. But enough of
these toys.
XXXVIII
OF NATURE IN MEN
Nature is often hidden ; sometimes overcome ; seldom ex-
tinguished. Force maketh nature more violent in the re-
turn ;^ doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune ;
but custom only doth alter and subdue nature. He that
seeketh victory over his nature, let him not set himself too
great nor too small tasks ; for the first will make him de-
jected by often failings ; and the second will make him a
small proceeder, though by often prevailings. And at the
first let him practise with helps, as swimmers do with blad-
ders or rushes; but after a time let him practise with dis-
advantages, as dancers do with thick shoes. For it breeds
* Clowns. * Turkish dwarfs. ^ Reaction.
102 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
great perfection, if the practice be harder than the use.
Where nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard, the
degrees had need be, first to stay and arrest nature in time;
like to him that would say over the four and twenty letters
when he was angry; then to go less in quantity; as if one
should, in forbearing wine, come from drinking healths to
a draught at a meal ; and lastly, to discontinue altogether.
But if a man have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise
himself at once, that is the best:
Optimus iUe animi vindex Isedentia pectus
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.
[Wouldst thou be free ? The chains that gall thy breast
With one strong effort burst, and be at rest.]
Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand
to a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right, understand-
ing it, where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a
man force a habit upon himself with a perpetual continuance,
but with some intermission. For both the pause reinforceth
the new onset; and if a man that is not perfect be ever in
practice, he shall as well practise his errors as his abilities,
and induce one habit of both ; and there is no means to help
this but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man trust
his victory over his nature too far ; for nature will lay buried
a great time, and yet revive upon the occasion or tempta-
tion. Like as it was with yEsop's damsel, turned from a cat
to a woman, who sat very demurely at the board's end, till
a mouse ran before her. Therefore let a man either avoid
the occasion altogether; or put himself often to it, that he
may be little moved with it. A man's nature is best per-
ceived in privateness, for there is no affectation ; in passion,
for that putteth a man out of his precepts ; and in a new case
or experiment, for there custom leaveth him. They are
happy men whose natures sort with their vocations ; other-
wise they may say, multum incola fuit anima mea [my soul
hath been long a sojourner] ; when they converse in those
things they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever a man com-
mandeth upon himself, let him set hours for it; but whatso-
ever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no care for any
OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION 103
set times; for his thoughts will fly to it of themselves; so
as the spaces of other business or studies will suffice. A
man's nature runs either to herbs or weeds ; therefore let him
seasonably water the one, and destroy the other.
XXXIX
OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION
Men's thoughts are much according to their inclination ;
their discourse and speeches according to their learning and
infused opinions; but their deeds are after as they have
been accustomed. And therefore, as Machiavel well noteth
(though in an evil-favored instance), there is no trusting
to the force of nature nor to the bravery of words, except
it be corroborate^ by custom. His instance is, that for the
achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should not rest
upon the fierceness of any man's nature, or his resolute un-
dertakings ; but take such an one as hath had his hands
formerly in blood. But Machiavel knew not of a Friar
Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar
Gerard ; yet his rule holdeth still that nature, nor the en-
gagement of words, are not so forcible as custom. Only su-
perstition is now so well advanced, that men of the first blood
are as firm as butchers by occupation ; and votary" resolution
is made equipollent* to custom even in matter of blood. In
other things the predominancy of custom is everywhere
visible ; insomuch as a man would wonder to hear men pro-
fess, protest, engage, give great words, and then do just as
they have done before ; as if they were dead images, and
engines moved only by the wheels of custom. We see also
the reign or tyranny of custom, what it is. The Indians (I
mean the sect of their wise men) lay themselves quietly
upon a stack of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire.
Nay the wives strive to be burned with the corpses of their
husbands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to
be scourged upon the altar of Diana, without so much as
queching.* I remember, in the beginning of Queen Eliza-
^ Strengthened. " Based on a vow. " Equally powerful. * Flinching,
104 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
beth's time of England, an Irish rebel condemned, put up a
petition to the deputy that he might be hanged in a withe,
and not in an halter ; because it had been so used with former
rebels. There be monks in Russia, for penance, that will sit
a whole night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with
hard ice. Many examples may be put of the force of custom,
both upon mind and body. Therefore, since custom is the
principal magistrate of man's life, let men by all means en-
deavor to obtain good customs. Certainly custom is most
perfect when it beginneth in young years : this we call edu-
cation; which is, in effect, but an early custom. So we see,
in languages the tongue is more pliant to all expressions and
sounds, the joints are more supple to all feats of activity and
motions, in youth than afterwards. For it is true that late
learners cannot so well take the ply ; except it be in some
minds that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have kept
themselves open and prepared to receive continual amend-
ment, which is exceeding rare. But if the force of custom
simple and separate be great, the force of custom copulate
and conjoined and collegiate is far greater. For there ex-
ample teacheth, company comforteth, emulation quickeneth,
glory raiseth : so as in such places the force of custom is in
his exaltation." Certainly the great multiplication of virtues
upon human nature resteth upon societies well ordained and
disciplined. For commonwealths and good governments do
nourish virtue grown, but do not much mend the seeds. But
the misery is, that the most effectual means are now applied
to the ends least to be desired.
XL
OF FORTUNE
It cannot be denied, but outward accidents conduce much
to fortune; favor, opportunity, death of others, occasion
fitting virtue. But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is
in his own hands. Faher quisque fortuna: su2 [Every one is
the architect of his own fortune], saith the poet. And the
6 At its height.
OF FORTUNE 105
most frequent of external causes is, that the folly of one
man is the fortune of another. For no man prospers so sud-
denly as by others' errors. Serpens nisi serpenteni comederit
non at draco [A serpent must have eaten another serpent be-
fore he can become a dragon]. Overt and apparent virtues
bring forth praise ; but there be secret and hidden virtues
that bring forth fortune ; certain deliveries of a man's self,
which have no name. The Spanish name, desemboltura
[facility in expression], partly expresseth them; when there
be not stonds^ nor restiveness in a man's nature ; but that the
wheels of his mind keep way with the wheels of his fortune.
For so Livy (after he had described Cato Major in these
words, In illo viro tantum rohiir corporis et animi fiiit, ut
quocunqiie loco natus esset, fortitnam sibi facturus videretur
[Such was his strength of body and mind, that wherever he
had been born he could have made himself a fortune] ) falleth
upon that, that he had versatile ingenium [a wit that could
turn well]. Therefore if a man look sharply and attentively,
he shall see Fortune : for though she be blind, yet she is not
invisible. The way of fortune is like the Milken Way in the
sky ; which is a meeting or knot of a number of small stars ;
not seen asunder, but giving light together. So are there a
number of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather facul-
ties and customs, that make men fortunate. The Italians
note some of them, such as a man would little think. When
they speak of one that cannot do amiss, they will throw in
into his other conditions, that he hath Poco di niatto [a little
out of his senses]. And certainly there be not two more for-
tunate properties, than to have a little of the fool, and not
too much of the honest. Therefore extreme lovers of their
country or masters were never fortunate, neither can they
be. For when a man placeth his thoughts without himself,
he goeth not his own way. An hasty fortune maketh an
enterpriser and remover (the French hath it better, entre-
prenant, or remnant) ; but the exercised fortune maketh the
able man. Fortune is to be honored and respected, and it be
but for her daughters, Confidence and Reputation. For those
two Felicity breedeth ; the first within a man's self, the latter
in others towards him. All wise men, to decline the envy of
^ Stops.
106 THE ESSAYS OF FRANXIS BACON
their own virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence and For-
tune ; for so they may the better assume them : and, besides,
it is greatness in a man to be the care of the higher povi-ers.
So Caesar said to the pilot in the tempest, Ccesarem portcus, et
forttinam ejus [You carry Caesar and his fortune]. So Sylla
chose the name of Felix [the Fortunate], and not of Magnus
[the Great]. And it hath been noted, that those who ascribe
openly too much to their own wisdom and policy end infor-
tunate. It is written that Timotheus the Athenian, after he
had, in the account he gave to the state of his government,
often interlaced this speech, and in this Fortune had no part,
never prospered in anything he undertook afterwards. Cer-
tainly there be, whose fortunes are like Homer's verses, that
have a slide and easiness more than the verses of other poets ;
as Plutarch saith of Timoleon's fortune, in respect of that of
Agesilaus or Epaminondas. And that this should be, no
doubt it is much in a man's self.
XLI
OF USURY
Many have made witty invectives against usury.' They
say that it is a pity the devil should have God's part, which
is the tithe. That the usurer is the greatest Sabbath-breaker,
because his plough goeth every Sunday. That the usurer is
the drone that Virgil speaketh of;
Ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibus arcent.
[They drive away the drones, a slothful race, from the
hives.] That the usurer breaketh the first law that was made
for mankind after the fall, which was, in sudor e vidttis tui
comedes panem tuum; not, in sudore vultus alieni [in the
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread — not in the sweat of
another's face]. That usurers should have orange-tawny'
bonnets, because they do judaize. That it is against nature
for money to beget money ; and the Hke. I say this only, that
1 Interest, not necessarily excessive. " The color the Jews used
to be required to wear.
OF USURY 107
usury is a concessum propter duritiern cordis [a thing al-
lowed by reason of the hardness of men's hearts] ; for since
there must be borrowing and lending, and men are so hard
of heart as they will not lend freely, usury must be permitted.
Some others have made suspicious and cunning propositions
of banks, discovery' of men's estates, and other inventions.
But few have spoken of usury usefully. It is good to set
before us the incommodities and commodities of usury, that
the good may be either weighed out or culled out ; and warily
to provide, that while we make forth to that which is better,
we meet not with that which is worse.
The discommodities of usury are, First, that it makes
fewer merchants. For were it not for this lazy trade of
usury, money would not lie still, but would in great part be
employed upon merchandizing; which is the vena porta* of
wealth in a state. The second, that it makes poor merchants.
For as a farmer cannot husband his ground so well if he sit
at a great rent ; so the merchant cannot drive his trade so
well, if he sit at great usury. The third is incident to the
other two; and that is the decay of customs of kings or states,
which ebb or flow with merchandizing. The fourth, that it
bringeth the treasure of a realm or state into a few hands.
For the usurer being at certainties, and others at uncertain-
ties, at the end of the game most of the money will be in
the box; and ever a state flourisheth when wealth is more
equally spread. The fifth, that it beats down the price of
land; for the employment of money is chiefly either merchan-
dizing or purchasing; and usury waylays both. The sixth,
that it doth dull and damp all industries, improvements, and
new inventions, wherein money would be stirring, if it were
not for this slug. The last, that it is the canker and ruin of
many men's estates; which in process of time breeds a public
poverty.
On the other side, the commodities of usury are, first, that
howsoever usury in some respect hindereth merchandizing,
yet in some other it advanceth it ; for it is certain that the
greatest part of trade is driven by young merchants, upon
borrowing at interest; so as if the usurer either call in or
keep back his money, there will ensue presently a great stand
' Revealing. * Essay xix. n. 4.
108 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
of trade. The second is, that were it not for this easy bor-
rowing upon interest, men's necessities would draw upon
them a most sudden undoing; in that they would be forced
to sell their means (be it lands or goods) far under foot;*
and so, whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them, bad markets
would swallow them quite up. As for mortgaging or pawn-
ing, it will little mend the matter : for either men will not take
pawns without use ; or if they do, they will look precisely
for the forfeiture. I remember a cruel moneyed man in the
country, that would say. The devil take this usury, it keep
us from forfeitures of mortgages and bonds. The third and
last is, that it is a vanity to conceive that there would be
ordinary borrowing without profit ; and it is impossible to
conceive the number of inconveniences that will ensue, if
borrowing be cramped. Therefore to speak of the abolishing
of usury is idle. All states have ever had it, in one kind
or rate, or other. So as that opinion must be sent to Utopia.'
To speak now of the reformation and reiglement' of usury ;
how the discommodities of it may be best avoided, and the
commodities retained. It appears by the balance of com-
modities and discommodities of usury, two things are to be
reconciled. The one, that the tooth of usury be grinded, that
it bite not too much ; the other, that there be left open a
means to invite moneyed men to lend to the merchants, for
the continuing and quickening of trade. This cannot be
done, except you introduce two several sorts of usury, a less
and a greater. For if you reduce usury to one low rate,
it will ease the common borrower, but the merchant will
be to seek for money. And it is to be noted, that the trade
of merchandize, being the most lucrative, may bear usury
at a good rate ; other contracts not so.
To serve both intentions, the way would be briefly thus.
That there be two rates of usury: the one free, and general
for all; the other under license only, to certain persons and
in certain places of merchandizing. First, therefore, let usury
in general be reduced to five in the hundred ; and let that
rate be proclaimed to be free and current ; and let the state
shut itself out to take any penalty for the same. This will
° Below the real value. * Sir Thomas More's imaginary ideal
commonwealth. ' Regulation.
OF USURY 109
preserve borrowing from any general stop or dryness. This
will ease infinite borrowers in the country. This will, in
good part, raise the price of land, because land purchased
at sixteen years' purchase will yield six in the hundred, and
somewhat more ; whereas this rate of interest yields but five.
This by like reason will encourage and edge industrious and
profitable improvements; because many will rather venture
in that kind than take five in the hundred, especially having
been used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be certain
persons licensed to lend to known merchants upon usury at
a higher rate ; and let it be with the cautions following. Let
the rate be, even with the merchant himself, somewhat more
easy than that he used formerly to pay; for by that means
all borrowers shall have some ease by this reformation, be
he merchant, or whosoever. Let it be no bank or common
stock, but every man be master of his own money. Not
that I altogether mislike banks, but they will hardly be
brooked, in regard of certain suspicions. Let the state be
answered some small matter for the license, and the rest
left to the lender; for if the abatement be but small, it will
no whit discourage the lender. For he, for example, that
took before ten or nine in the hundred, will sooner descend
to eight in the hundred than give over his trade of usury,
and go from certain gains to gains of hazard. Let these
licensed lenders be in number indefinite, but restrained to
certain principal cities and towns of merchandizing; for
then they will be hardly able to color other men's moneys
in the country: so as the license of nine will not suck away
the current rate of five; for no man will lend his moneys
far off, nor put them into unknown hands.
If it be objected that this doth in a sort authorize usury,
which before was in some places but permissive ; the answer
is, that it is better to mitigate usury by declaration, than
to suffer it to rage by connivance.
no THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
XLII
OF YOUTH AND AGE
A MAN that is young in years may be old in hours, if he
have lost no time. But that happeneth rarely. Generally,
youth is like the first cogitations, not so wise as the second.
For there is a youth in thoughts, as well as in ages. And
yet the invention of young men is more lively than that of
old; and imaginations stream into their minds better, and
as it were more divinely. Natures that have much heat and
great and violent desires and perturbations are not ripe for
action till they have passed the meridian of their years;
as it was with Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus. Of the
latter of whom it is said, Juventutem egit errorihus, imo
furorihus, plenam [He passed a youth full of errors, yea of
madnesses]. And yet he was the ablest emperor, almost,
of all the list. But reposed natures may do well in youth.
As it is seen in Augustus Caesar, Cosmus Duke of Florence,
Gaston de Foix, and others. On the other side, heat and
vivacity in age is an excellent composition for business.
Young men are fitter to invent than to judge; fitter for ex-
ecution than for counsel; and fitter for new projects than
for settled business. For the experience of age, in things
that fall within the compass of it, directeth them; but in
new things, abuseth* them. The errors of young men are
the ruin of business; but the errors of aged men amount
but to this, that more might have been done, or sooner.
Young men. in the conduct and manage of actions, embrace
more than they can hold; stir more than they can quiet; fly
to the end, without consideration of the means and degrees;
pursue some few principles which they have chanced upon
absurdly; care not to' innovate, which draws unknown in-
conveniences; use extreme remedies at first; and that which
doubleth all errors will not acknowledge or retract them;
like an unready® horse, that will neither stop nor turn. Men
of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little,
repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full
period,* but content themselves with a mediocrity of success.
* Deceiveth. * Are reckless in innovating. ^ Badly trained. * Completion.
OF BEAUTY 111
Certainly it is good to compound employments of both ; for
that will be good for tiic present, because the virtues of either
age may correct the defects of both; and good for succession,
that young men may be learners, while men in age are actors ;
and, lastly, good for extern accidents, because authority fol-
loweth old men. and favor and popularity youth. But for the
moral part, perhaps youth will have the pre-eminence, as
age hath for the politic. A certain rabbin, upon the text,
Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall
dream dreams, inferreth that young men are admitted nearer
to God than old, because vision is a clearer revelation than
a dream. And certainly, the more a man drinketh of the
world, the more it intoxicateth ; and age doth profit rather
in the powers of understanding, than in the virtues of the
will and affections. There be some have an over-early ripe-
ness in their years, which fadeth betimes. These are, first,
such as have brittle wits, the edge whereof is soon turned;
such as was Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books are
exceeding subtle ; who afterwards waxed stupid. A second
sort is of those that have some natural dispositions which
have better grace in youth than in age ; such as is a fluent
and luxuriant speech ; which becomes youth w^ell, but not
age : so Tully saith of Hortensius, Idem manehat, nequc idem
decebat [He continued the same, when the same was not be-
coming]. The third is of such as take too high a strain
at the first, and are magnanimous more than tract of years
can uphold. As was Scipio Africanus, of whom Livy saith
in effect, Ultima primis cedebant [His last actions were not
equal to his first.]
XLHI
OF BEAUTY
Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set ; and surely virtue
is best in a body that is comely, though not of delicate
features ; and that hath rather dignity of presence than
beauty of aspect. Neither is it almost seen, that very beau-
tiful persons are otherwise of great virtue; as if nature were
rather busy not to err, than in labor to produce excellency.
112 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
And therefore they prove accomplished, but not of great
spirit; and study rather behavior than virtue. But this
holds not always : for Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus,
Philip le Bel of France. Edward the Fourth of England,
Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the Sophy of Persia, were all
high and great spirits ; and yet the most beautiful men of
their times. In beauty, that of favor^ is more than that of
color; and that of decent" and gracious motion more than
that of favor. That is the best part of beauty, which a
picture cannot express ; no nor the first sight of the life. There
is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in
the proportion. A man cannot tell whether Apelles or Albert
Durer were the more trifler ; whereof the one would make
a personage by geometrical proportions : the other, by taking
the best parts out of divers faces, to make one excellent.
Such personages, I think, would please nobody but the painter
that made them. Xot but I think a painter may make a
better face than ever was ; but he must do it by a kind
of felicity (as a musician that maketh an excellent air in
music), and not by rule. A man shall see faces, that if you
examine them part by part, you shall find never a good ; and
yet altogether do well. If it be true that the principal part
of beauty is in decent motion, certainly it is no marvel
though persons in years seem many times more amiable ;
pulchrorum autumnus pidcher [beautiful persons have a
beautiful autumn] ; for no youth can be comely but by par-
don,'' and considering the youth as to make up the comeliness.
Beauty is as summer fruits, w^hich are easy to corrupt, and
cannot last ; and for the most part it makes a dissolute
youth, and an age a little out of countenance ; but yet cer-
tainly again, if it light well, it maketh virtue shine, and vices
blush.
XLIV
OF DEFORMITY
Deformed persons are commonly even with nature; for
as nature hath done ill by them, so do they by nature ; being
1 Feature. - Becoming. ^ Making special allowance.
OF DEFORMITY 113
for the most part (as the Scripture saith) void of natural
affection; and so they have their revenge of nature. Cer-
tainly there is a consent^ between the body and the mind ;
and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the
other. Ubi peccat in iino, periclitatur in altera. But be-
cause there is in man an election touching the frame of his
mind, and a necessity in the frame of his body, the stars
of natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun
of discipline and virtue. Therefore it is good to consider
of deformity, not as a sign, which is more deceivable ; but as
a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect. Whosoever hath
anything fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath
al.so a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver him-
self from scorn. Therefore all deformed persons are ex-
treme bold. First, as in their own defence, as being exposed
to scorn ; but in process of time by a general habit. Also
it stirreth in them industry, and especially of this kind, to
watch and observe the weakness of others, that they may
have somewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors, it
quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they
think they may at pleasure despise : and it layeth their com-
petitors and emulators asleep ; as never believing they should
be in possibility of advancement, till they see them in pos-
session. So that upon the matter," in a great wit, deformity
is an advantage to rising. Kings in ancient times (and at
this present in some countries) were wont to put great trust
in eunuchs; because they that are envious towards all are
more obnoxious' and officious towards one. But yet their
trust towards them hath rather been as to good spials* and
good whisperers, than good magistrates and officers. And
much like is the reason of deformed persons. Still the ground
is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free themselves from
scorn ; which must be either by virtue or malice ; and there-
fore let it not be marvelled if sometimes they prove excellent
persons; as was Agesilaus. Zanger the son of Solyman,
^sop, Gasca, President of Peru; and Socrates may go like-
wise amongst them ; with others.
^ Agreement. - On the whole. ^ Subservient. * Spies.
114 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACOhf
XLV
OF BUILDING
Houses are built to live in, and not to look on ; therefore
let use be preferred before uniformity, except where both
may be had. Leave the goodly fabrics of houses, for beauty
only, to the enchanted palaces of the poets ; who build them
with small cost. He that builds a fair house upon an ill seat,
committeth himself to prison. Neither do I reckon it an
ill seat only where the air is unwholesome ; but likewise
where the air is unequal ; as you shall see many fine seats
set upon a knap^ of ground, environed with higher hills
round about it; whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and
the wind gathereth as in troughs; so as you shall have,
and that suddenly, as great diversity of heat and cold as if
you dwelt in several places. Neither is it ill air only that
maketh an ill seat, but ill ways, ill markets ; and, if you will
consult with Momus,^ ill neighbors. I speak not of many
more ; want of water; want of wood, shade, and shelter; want
of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several natures;
want of prospect; want of level grounds: want of places at
some near distance for sports of hunting, hawking, and races ;
too near the sea, too remote ; having the commodity^ of navi-
gable rivers, or the discommodity of their overflowing; too far
off from great cities, which may hinder business, or too
near them, which lurcheth* all provisions, and maketh every-
thing dear; where a man hath a great living laid together,
and where he is scanted: all which, as it is impossible per-
haps to find together, so it is good to know them, and think of
them, that a man may take as many as he can ; and if he have
several dwellings, that he sort them so, that what he wanteth
in the one he may find in the other. Lucullus answered Pom-
pey well ; who, when he saw his stately galleries, and rooms so
large and lightsome, in one of his houses, said, Surely an ex-
cellent place for summer, but how do you in winter? Lu-
cullus answered. Why, do you not think me as wise as some
fowl are, that ever change their abode toivards the winter?
1 Knoll. 2 The god of fault-finding. ' Lat., no commodity or
convenience, which gives better sense. ■* Intercepts.
OF BUILDING llS
To pass from the seat to the house itself; we will do as
Cicero doth in the orator's art ; who writes books De Oratore,
and a book he entitles Orator; whereof the former delivers
the precepts of the art, and the latter the perfection. We
will therefore describe a princely palace, making a brief
model thereof. For it is strange to see, now in Europe, such
huge buildings as the Vatican and Escurial and some others
be, and yet scarce a very fair room in them.
First, therefore, I say you cannot have a perfect palace
except you have two several sides; a side for the banquet,
as it is spoken of in the book of Hester, and a side for the
household; the one for feasts and triumphs, and the other
for dwelling. I understand both these sides to be not only
returns,^ but parts of the front ; and to be uniform without,
though severally partitioned within; and to be on both sides
of a great and stately tower in the midst of the front, that,
as it were, joineth them together on either hand. I would
have on the side of the banquet, in front, one only goodly
room above stairs, of some forty foot high; and under it a
room for a dressing or preparing place at times of triumphs.
On the other side, which is the household side, I wish it
divided at the first into a hall and a chapel (with a partition
between); both of good state and bigness; and those not
to go all the length, but to have at the further end a winter
and a summer parlor, both fair. And under these rooms,
a fair and large cellar sunk under ground ; and likewise
some privy kitchens, with butteries and pantries, and the
like. As for the tower, I would have it two stories, of
eighteen foot high apiece, above the two wings ; and a goodly
leads upon the top, railed with statuas interposed ; and the
same tower to be divided into rooms, as shall be thought fit.
The stairs likewise to the upper rooms, let them be upon a
fair open newel,^ and finely railed in with images of wood,
cast into a brass color; and a very fair landing-place at
the top. But this to be, if you do not point any of the
lower rooms for a dining place of servants. For other-
wise you shall have the servants' dinner after your own:
for the steam of it will come up as in a tunnel. And so much
• Wings running back from the front. 'Tlie center pillar, or,
when " open," the well, of a winding stair.
116 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
for the front. Only I understand the height of the first
stairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height of the lower
room.
Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, but three
sides of it, of a far lower building than the front. And
in all the four corners of that court fair staircases, cast into
turrets, on the outside, and not within the row of buildings
themselves. But those towers are not to be of the height of
the front, but rather proportionable to the lower building. Let
the court not be paved, for that striketh up a great heat
in summer, and much cold in winter. But only some side
alleys, with a cross, and the quarters to graze, being kept
shorn, but not too near shorn. The row of return on the
banquet side, let it be all stately galleries: in which galleries
let there be three, or five, fine cupolas in the length of it,
placed at equal distance ; and fine colored windows of several
works. On the household side, chambers of presence' and or-
dinary entertainments, with some bed-chambers; and let
all three sides be a double house, without thorough lights
on the sides, that you may have rooms from the sun, both
for forenoon and afternoon. Cast* it also, that you may
have rooms both for summer and winter; shady for summer,
and warm for winter. You shall have sometimes fair houses
so full of glass that one cannot tell where to become to be
out of the sun or cold. For inbowed windows, I hold them
of good use (in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect
of the uniformity towards the street) ; for they be pretty
retiring places for conference; and besides, they keep both
the wind and sun off; for that which would strike almost
through the room doth scarce pass the window. But let them
be but few, four in the court, on the sides only.
Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, of the
same square and height; which is to be environed with the
garden on all sides ; and in the inside, cloistered on all sides,
upon decent and beautiful arches, as high as the first story.
On the under story, towards the garden, let it be turned
to a grotto, or place of shade, or estivation.® And only have
opening and windows towards the garden; and be level
upon the floor, no whit sunken under ground, to avoid all
'' Reception-rooms. "^ Plan. * For summer use.
OF GARDENS 117
dampishness. And let there be a fountain, or some fair
work of statuas in the midst of this court ; and to be paved
as the other court was. These buildings to be for privy
lodgings on both sides ; and the end for privy galleries.
Whereof you must foresee that one of them be for an in-
firmary, if the prince or any special person should be sick,
with chambers, bed-chamber, ante-camera, and recamera*"
joining to it. This upon the second story. Upon the
ground story, a fair gallery, open, upon pillars; and upon
the third story likewise, an open gallery, upon pillars, to
take the prospect and freshness of the garden. At both
corners of the further side, by way of return, let there be
two delicate or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged,
glazed with crystalline glass, and a rich cupola in the midst;
and all other elegancy that may be thought upon. In the
upper gallery too, I wish that there may be, if the place
will yield it, some fountains running in divers places from
the wall, with some fine avoidances." And thus much for
the model of the palace ; save that you must have, before you
come to the front, three courts. A green court plain, with
a wall about it ; a second court of the same, but more gar-
nished, with little turrets, or rather embellishments, upon
the wall ; and a third court, to make a square with the
front, but not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a naked wall,
but enclosed with terraces, leaded aloft, and fairly garnished,
on the three sides ; and cloistered on the inside, with pillars,
and not with arches below. As for offices, let them stand
at distance, with some low galleries, to pass from them to the
palace itself.
XL VI
OF GARDENS
God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed it is
the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment
to the spirits of man ; without which buildings and palaces
are but gross handiworks ; and a man shall ever see that
when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build
"Retiring-room. ''Secret outlets.
118 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
stately sooner than to garden finely ; as if gardening were
the greater perfection. I do hold it, in the royal ordering
of gardens, there ought to be gardens for all the months
in the year; in which severally things of beauty may be
then in season. For December, and January, and the latter
part of November, you must take such things as are green
all winter: holly; ivy; bays; juniper; cypress-trees;
yew ; pine-apple-trees ;' fir-trees ; rosemary ; lavender ; peri-
winkle, the white, the purple, and the blue; germander;
flags ; orange-trees ; lemon-trees ; and myrtles, if they be
stoved;* and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth,
for the latter part of January and February, the mezereon-
tree, which then blossoms; crocus vernus,' both the yellow
and the grey; primroses; anemones; the early tulippa ;
byacinthus orientalis ; chamairis ; fritellaria.* For March,
there come violets, specially the single blue, which are
the earliest ; the yellow daffodil ; the daisy ; the almond-
tree in blossom ; the peach-tree in blossom ; the cornelian-
tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow the double
white violet; the wall-flower; the stock-gilliflower ; the cow-
slip; flower-delices, and lilies of all natures; rosemary-
flowers; the tulippa; the double peony; the pale daffodil;
the French honeysuckle ; the cherry-tree in blossom ; the
damson and plum-trees in blossom; the white thorn in
leaf; the lilac-tree. In May and June come pinks of all sorts,
specially the blush-pink ; roses of all kinds, except the musk,
which comes later; honeysuckles; strawberries; bugloss;
columbine ; the French marigold, flos Af ricanus ; cherry-tree
in fruit ; ribes ;" figs in fruit ; rasps ; vine-flowers ; lavender
in flowers; the sweet satyrian, with the white flower; herba
muscaria;* lilium convallium;^ the apple-tree in blossom. In
July come gilliflowers of all varieties; musk-roses; the lime-
tree in blossom; early pears and plums in fruit; jennetings,'
codlins.^ In August come plums of all sorts in fruit;
pears; apricocks; berberries; filberds; musk-melons; monks-
hoods, of all colors. In September come grapes; apples;
poppies of all colors; peaches; melocotones ;" nectarines;
* Pine trees. The cones were called pineapples. - Kept in a hothouse.
» Spring crocus. * A kind of lily. ^ Currants or gooseberries.
* Grape-hyacinth. ^ Lily of the valley. ^ Kinds of apples.
* A kind of peach.
OF GARDENS 119
cornelians; wardens;" quinces. In October and the begin-
ning of November come services; medlars; bullaces;" roses
cut or removed to come late ; holly-hocks ; and such like.
These particulars are for the climate of London; but my
meaning is perceived, that you may have ver perpetmim
("perpetual spring], as the place affords.
And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the
air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music)
than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that de-
light, than to know what be the flowers and plants that do
best perfume the air. Roses, damask and red, are fast
flowers^" of their smells ; so that you may walk by a whole
row of them, and find nothing of their sweetness ; yea though
it be in a morning's dew. Bays likewise yield no smell as
they grow. Rosemary little; nor sweet marjoram. That
which above all others yields the sweetest smell in the air
is the violet, specially the white double violet, which comes
twice a year; about the middle of April, and about Bartholo-
mew-tide." Next to that is the musk-rose. Then the straw-
berry-leaves dying, which [yield] a most excellent cordial
smell. Then the flower of the vines; it is a little dust, like
the dust of a bent,'* which grows upon the cluster in the
first coming forth. Then sweet-briar. Then wall-flowers,
which are very delightful to be set under a parlor or lower
chamber window. Then pinks and gilliflowers,^' espe-
cially the matted pink and clove gilliflower. Then the
flowers of the lime-tree. Then the honeysuckles, so they be
somewhat afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak not, because
they are field flowers. But those which perfume the air
most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden
upon and crushed, are three ; that is. burnet, wild-thyme, and
watermints. Therefore you are to set whole alleys of them,
to have the pleasure when you walk or tread.
For gardens (speaking of those which are indeed prince-
like, as we have done of buildings), the contents ought not
well to be under thirty acres of ground ; and to be divided
into three parts ; a green in the entrance ; a heath or desert
in the going forth ; and the main garden in the midst ; besides
'" Large baking pears, ii A sort of plum. >- Not yielding odor freely.
'' August 24. " A kind of grass. '» Carnations.
120 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
alleys on both sides. And I like well that four acres of
ground be assigned to the green ; six to the heath ; four and
four to either side ; and twelve to the main garden. The
green hath two pleasures : the one, because nothing is more
pleasant to the eye than green grass kept finely shorn ; the
other, because it will give you a fair alley in the midst, by
which you may go in front upon a stately hedge, which is to
enclose the garden. But because the alley will be long, and,
in great heat of the year or day, you ought not to buy the
shade in the garden by going in the sun through the green,
therefore you are, of either side the green, to plant a covert
alley upon carpenter's work, about twelve foot in height,
by which you may go in shade into the garden. As for the
making of knots or figures, with divers colored earths, that
they may lie under the windows of the house on that side
which the garden stands, they be but toys; you may see as
good sights many times in tarts. The garden is best to be
square, encompassed on all the four sides with a stately arched
hedge. The arches to be upon pillars of carpenter's work,
of some ten foot high, and six foot broad; and the spaces
between of the same dimension with the breadth of the arch.
Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of some four
foot high, framed also upon carpenter's work; and upon the
upper hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a belly,
enough to receive a cage of birds : and over every space be-
tween the arches some other little figure, with broad plates of
round colored glass gilt, for the sun to play upon. But this
hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently
slope, of some six foot, set all with flowers. Also I under-
stand, that this square of the garden should not be the whole
breadth of the ground, but to leave on either side ground
enough for diversity of side alleys ; unto which the two
covert alleys of the green may deliver you. But there must
be no alleys with hedges at either end of this great enclosure ;
not at the hither end. for letting"' your prospect upon this
fair hedge from the green ; nor at the further end. for letting
your prospect from the hedge through the arches upon the
heath.
For the ordering of the ground within the great hedge, I
'• Hindering.
OF GARDENS 121
leave it to variety of device ; advising nevertheless that what-
soever form you cast it into, first, it be not too busy, or full
of work. Wherein I, for my part, do not like images cut
out in juniper or other garden stuff; they be for children.
Little low hedges, round, like welts, with some pretty pyra-
mids, I like well ; and in some places, fair columns upon
frames of carpenter's work. I would also have the alleys
spacious and fair. You may have closer alleys upon the
side grounds, but none in the main garden. I wish also, in
the very middle, a fair mount, with three ascents, and alleys,
enough for four to walk abreast ; which I would have to be
perfect circles, without any bulwarks or embossments; and
the whole mount to be thirty foot high ; and some fine ban-
quetmg-house, with some chimneys neatly cast, and without
too much glass.
For fountains, they are a great beauty and refreshment;
but pools mar all, and make the garden unwholesome, and
full of flies and frogs. Fountains I intend to be of two
natures : the one that sprinkleth or spouteth water ; the other
a fair receipt of water, of some thirty or forty foot square,
but without fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the orna-
ments of images gilt, or of marble, which are in use, do well :
but the main matter is so to convey the water, as it never
stay, either in the bowls or in the cistern ; that the water be
never by rest discolored, green or red or the like ; or gather
any mossiness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to be
cleansed every day by the hand. Also some steps up to it,
and some fine pavement about it, doth well. As for the
other kind of fountain, which we may call a bathing pool,
it may admit much curiosity and beauty; wherewith we will
not trouble ourselves : as, that the bottom be finely paved,
and with images ; the sides likewise ; and withal embellished
with colored glass, and such things of lustre; encompassed
also with fine rails of low statuas. But the main point is
the same which we mentioned in the former kind of fountain ;
which is, that the water be in perpetual motion, fed by a
water higher than the pool, and delivered into it by fair
spouts, and then discharged away under ground by some
equality of bores, that it stay little. And for fine devices, of
arching water without spilling, and making it rise in several
re2 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like),
they be pretty things to look on, but nothing to health and
sweetness.
For the heath, which was the third part of our plot, I
wish it to be framed, as much as may be, to a natural wild-
ness. Trees I would have none in it, but some thickets made
only of sweet-briar and honeysuckle, and some wild vine
amongst ; and the ground set with violets, strawberries,
and primroses. For these are sweet, and prosper in
the shade. And these to be in the heath, here and there,
not in any order. I like also little heaps, in the nature of
mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), to be set, some with
wild thyme; some with pinks; some with germander, that
gives a good flower to the eye ; some with periwinkle ; some
with violets ; some with strawberries ; some with cowslips ;
some with daisies ; some with red roses ; some with lilium
convallium; some with sweet-williams red; some with bear's-
foot : and the like low flowers, being withal sweet and sightly.
Part of which heaps are to be with standards of little bushes
pricked'" upon their top, and part without. The standards
to be roses; juniper; holly; berberries (but here and there,
because of the smell of their blossom) ; red currants; goose-
berries; rosemary; bays; sweet-briar; and such like. But
these standards to be kept with cutting, that they grow not
out of course.
For the side grounds, you are to fill them with variety of
alleys, private, to give a full shade, some of them, whereso-
ever the sun be. You are to frame some of them likewise
for shelter, that when the wind blows sharp you may walk
as in a gallery. And those alleys must be likewise hedged at
both ends, to keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys must
be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, because of going wet.
In many of these alleys, likewise, you are to set fruit-trees
of all sorts; as well upon the walls as in ranges. And this
would be generally observed, that the borders wherein you
plant your fruit-trees be fair and large, and low, and not
steep; and set with fine flowers, but thin and sparingly,
le.st they deceive'^ the trees. At the end of both the side
grounds, I would have a mount of some pretty height, leav-
1' Planted. " Rob.
OP NEGOTIATING 123
Jng the wall of the enclosure breast high, to look abroad into
the fields.
For the main garden, I do not deny but there should be
some fair alleys ranged on both sides, with fruit-trees; and
some pretty tufts of fruit-trees, and arbors with seats, set in
some decent order ; but these to be by no means set too thick ;
but to leave the main garden so as it be not close, but the
air open and free. For as for shade, I would have you rest
upon the alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if you be
disposed, in the heat of the year or day ; but to make ac-
count that the main garden is for the more temperate parts
of the year ; and in the heat of summer, for the morning and
the evening, or overcast days.
For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that large-
ness as they may be turfed, and have livmg plants and bushes
set in them ; that the birds may have more scope, and natural
nestling, and that no foulness appear in the floor of the
aviary. So I have made a platform'* of a princely garden,
partly by precept, partly by drawing, not a model, but some
general lines of it ; and in this I have spared for no cost.
But it is nothing for great princes, that for the most part
taking advice with workmen, with no less cost set their
things together ; and sometimes add statuas and such things
for state and magnificence, but nothing to the true pleasure
of a garden.
XLVII
OF NEGOTIATING
It is generally better to deal by speech than by letter ; and
by the mediation of a third than by a man's self. Letters
are good, when a man would draw an answer by letter back
again; or when it may serve for a man's justification after-
wards to produce his own letter ; or where it may be danger
to be interrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in person is
good, when a man's face breedeth regard, as commonly with
inferiors; or in tender cases, where a man's eye upon the
countenance of him with whom he speaketh may give him a
"Plan.
124 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
direction how far to go ; and generally, where a man will
reserve to himself liberty either to disavow or to expound.
In choice of instruments, it is better to choose men of a
plainer sort, that are like to do that that is committed to
them, and to report back again faithfully the success, than
those that are cunning to contrive out of other men's busi-
ness somewhat to grace themselves, and will help the matter
in report for satisfaction' sake. Use also such persons as
affect"^ the business wherein they are employed; for that
quickeneth much ; and such as are fit for the matter ; as bold
men for expostulation, fair-spoken men for persuasion, crafty
men for inquiry and observation, froward^ and absurd* men
for business that doth not well bear out* itself. Use also
such as have been lucky, and prevailed before in things
wherein you have employed them ; for that breeds confidence,
and they will strive to maintain their prescription. It is
better to sound a person with whom one deals afar off, than
to fall upon the point at first; except you mean to surprise
him by some short question. It is better dealing with men in
appetite, than with those that are where they would be. If
a man deal with another upon conditions, the start or first
performance is all ; which a man cannot reasonably demand,
except either the nature of the thing be such, which must
go before ; or else a man can persuade the other party that
he shall still need him in some other thing; or else that he be
counted the honester man. All practice^ is to discover,' or to
work.^ Men discover themselves in trust, in passion, at un-
awares, and of necessity, when they would have somewhat
done and cannot find an apt pretext. If you would work any
man, you must either know his nature and fashions, and so
lead him ; or his ends, and so persuade him ; or his weakness
and disadvantages, and so awe him ; or those that have inter-
est in him, and so govern him. In dealing with cunning per-
sons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their
speeches ; and it is good to say little to them, and that which
they least look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man
may not look to sow and reap at once ; but must prepare busi-
ness, and so ripen it by degrees.
1 Like. 2 Stubborn. ^ Stupid. * Justify. ^ Scheming.
" Reveal. " Manage, make use of.
OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 125
XLVIII
OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS
Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man
maketh his train longer, he make his wings shorter. I reckon
to be costly, not them alone which charge the purse, but
which are wearisome and importune in suits. Ordinary follow-
ers ought to challenge no higher conditions than countenance,
recommendation, and protection from wrongs. Factious
followers are worse to be liked, which follow not upon affec-
tion to him with whom they range themselves, but upon
discontentment conceived against some other ; whereupon
commonly ensueth that ill intelligence^ that we many times
see between great personages. Likewise glorious" followers,
who make themselves as trumpets of the commendation of
those they follow, are full of inconvenience ; for they taint
business through want of secrecy; and they export honor
from a man, and make him a return in envy. There is a
kind of followers likewise which are dangerous, being indeed
espials ;* which inquire the secrets of the house, and bear
tales of them to others. Yet such men, many times, are in
great favor; for they are officious, and commonly exchange
tales. The following by certain estates of men, answerable
to that which a great person himself professeth (as of sol-
diers to him that hath been employed in the wars, and the
like), hath ever been a thing civil,* and well taken even in
monarchies ; so it be without too much pomp or popularity.
But the most honorable kind of following is to be followed
as one that apprehendeth to advance virtue and desert in all
sorts of persons. And yet, where there is no eminent odds
in sufficiency, it is better to take with the more passable,"
than with the more able. And besides, to speak truth, in base
times active men are of more use than virtuous. It is true
that in government it is good to use men of one rank equally :
for to countenance some extraordinarily is to make them
insolent, and the rest discontent; because they may claim a
due. But contrariwise, in favor, to use men with much dif-
ference and election is good; for it maketh the persons pre-
* Understanding. * Boastf uL » Spies. * Proper. = Mediocre.
126 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
f erred more thankful, and the rest more officious : because all
is of favor. It is good discretion not to make too much of
any man at the first; because one cannot hold out that pro-
portion. To be governed (as we call it) by one is not safe;
for it shows softness, and gives a freedom to scandal and
disreputation ; for those that would not censure or speak ill
of a man immediately will talk more boldly of those that are
so great with them, and thereby wound their honor. Yet to
be distracted with many is worse; for it makes men to be of
the last impression, and full of change. To take advice of
some few friends is ever honorable ; for lookers-on many
times see more than gamesters; and the vale best discovereth
the hill. There is little friendship in the world, and least of
all between equals, which was wont to be magnified. That
that is, is between superior and inferior, whose fortunes may
comprehend the one the other.
XLIX
OF SUITORS
Many ill matters and projects are undertaken; and private
suits do putrefy the public good. Many good matters are
undertaken with bad minds ; I mean not only corrupt minds,
but crafty minds, that intend not performance. Some em-
brace suits, which never mean to deal effectually in them;
but if they see there may be life in the matter by some other
mean, they will be content to win a thank, or take a second
reward, or at least to make use in the meantime of the suit-
or's hopes. Some take hold of suits only for an occasion to
cross some other; or to make^ an information whereof they
could not otherwise have apt pretext ; without care what
become of the suit when that turn is served; or, generally,
to make other men's business a kind of entertainment to
bring in their own. Nay, some undertake suits, with a full
purpose to let them fall ; to the end to gratify the adverse
party or competitor. Surely there is in some sort a right in
every suit; either a right in equity, if it be a suit of contro-
^GeL
OP SUITORS 127
versy;^ or a right of desert, if it be a suit of petition.* If
affection lead a man to favor the wrong side in justice, let
him rather use his countenance to compound* the matter than
to carry it.^ If affection lead a man to favor the less worthy
in desert, let him do it without depraving or disabling' the
better deserver. In suits which a man doth not well under-
stand, it is good to refer them to some friend of trust and
judgment, that may report whether he may deal in them with
honor: but let him choose well his referendaries, for else he
may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with delays
and abuses,' that plain dealing in denying to deal in suits at
first, and reporting the success^ barely, and in challenging
no more thanks than one hath deserved, is grown not only
honorable but also gracious. In suits of favor, the first com-
ing ought to take little place : so far forth consideration may
be had of his trust, that if intelligence of the matter could
not otherwise have been had but by him, advantage be not
taken of the note, but the party left to his other means ; and
in some sort recompensed for his discovery. To be ignorant
of the value of a suit is simplicity ; as well as to be ignorant of
the right thereof is want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is
a great mean of obtaining; for voicing them to be in for-
wardness may discourage some kind of suitors, but doth
quicken and awake others. But timing of the suit is the
principal. Timing, I say, not only in respect of the person
that should grant it, but in respect of those which are like
to cross it. Let a man, in the choice of his mean, rather
choose the fittest mean than the greatest mean ; and rather
them that deal in certain things, than those that are general.
The reparation of a denial is sometimes equal to the first
grant; if a man show himself neither dejected nor discon-
tented. Iniquum petas ut cequum feras [Ask more than is
reasonable, that you may get no less] is a good rule, where a
man hath strength of favor : but otherwise a man were better
rise in his suit; for he that would have ventured at first to
have lost the suitor will not in the conclusion lose both the
suitor and his own former favor. Nothing is thought so
easy a request to a great person, as his letter; and yet, if it
2 Caw-suit. ' For some favor or office. * Compromise. * Get an unjust
decision. •■ Decrying or disparaging. '' Deceits. * Outcome.
128 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
be not in a good cause, it is so much out of his reputation.
There are no worse instruments than these general contrivers
of suits; for they are but a kind of poison and infection to
public proceedings.
L
OF STUDIES
Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability.
Their chief use for delight is in privateness and retiring;
for ornament, is in discourse; and for ability, is in the judg-
ment and disposition of business. For expert men can exe-
cute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the
general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs,
come best from those that are learned. To spend too much
time in studies is sloth ; to use them too much for ornament,
is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is the
humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and are perfected
by experience : for natural abilities are like natural plants,
that need proyning,^ by study ; and studies themselves do
give forth directions too much at large, except they be
bounded in by experience. Crafty men contemn studies, sim-
ple men admire them, and wise men use them ; for they teach
not their own use ; but that is a wisdom without them, and
above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict
and confute ; nor to believe and take for granted ; nor to
find talk and discourse ; but to weigh and consider. Some
books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few
to be chewed and digested ; that is, some books are to be read
only in parts ; others to be read, but not curiously ; and some
few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of
them by others ; but that would be only in the less important
arguments, and the meaner sort of books, else distilled bonks
are like common distilled waters, flashy" things. Reading
maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing
an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had
need have a great memory ; if he confer little, he had need
^ Pruning, cultivating. - Insipid.
OF FACTION 129
have a present wit: and if he read Httle, he had need have
much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories
make men wise ; poets witty ; the mathematics subtile ; nat-
ural philosophy deep ; moral grave ; logic and rhetoric able
to contend. Abeunt stitdia in mores [Studies pass into and
influence manners]. Nay, there is no stond or impediment
in the wit but may be wrought out by fit studies ; like as dis-
eases of the body may have appropriate exercises. Bowling
is good for the stone and reins f shooting for the lungs and
breast ; gentle walking for the stomach ; riding for. the head ;
and the like. So if a man's wit be wandering, let him study
the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his wit be called
away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not
apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the
Schoolmen; for they are cymini sect ores [splitters of hairs].
If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call up one
thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the law-
yers' cases. So every defect of the mind may have a special
receipt.
LI
OF FACTION
Many have an opinion not wise, that for a prince to gov-
ern his estate, or for a great person to govern his proceed-
ings, according to the respect of factions, is a principal part
of policy; whereas contrariwise, the chiefest wisdom is either
in ordering those things which are general, and wherein
men of several factions do nevertheless agree ; or in dealing
with correspondence to particular persons, one by one. But
I say not that the considerations of factions is to be neg-
lected. Mean men, in their rising, must adhere ; but great
men, that have strength in themselves, were better to main-
tain themselves indifferent and neutral. Yet even in be-
ginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be a man of the one
faction which is most passable with the other, commonly
giveth best way. The lower and weaker faction is the firmer
in conjunction; and it is often seen that a few that are stiff
wr TTT " Kidneys. _
laO THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
do tire out a greater number that are more moderate. When
one of the factions is exting^^ished, the remaining subdi-
videth; as the faction between Lucullus and the rest of the
nobles of the senate (which they called Optimates [Aristo-
crats]) held out awhile against the faction of Pompey and
Cafsar; but when the senate's authority was pulled down,
Caesar and Pompey soon after brake. The faction or party
of Antonius and Octavianus Csesar against Brutus and
Cassius held out likewise for a time; but when Brutus and
Cassius were overthrown, then soon after Antonius and
Octavianus brake and subdivided. These examples are of
wars, but the same holdeth in private factions. And there-
fore those that are seconds in factions do many times, when
the faction subdivideth, prove principals ; but many times
also they prove ciphers and cashiered ; for many a man's
strength is in opposition ; and when that faileth he groweth
out of use. It is commonly seen that men once placed take
in with the contrary faction to that by which they enter:
thinking belike that they have the first sure, and now are
ready for a new purchase. The traitor in faction lightly
goeth away with it i^ for when matters have stuck long in
balancing, the winning of some one man casteth them, and
he getteth all the thanks. The even carriage between two
factions proceedeth not always of moderation, but of a true-
ness to a man's self, with end to make use of both. Cer-
tainly in Italy they hold it a little suspect in popes, when
they have often in their mouth Padre commune [common
father] : and take it to be a sign of one that meaneth to refer
all to the greatness of his own house. Kings had need be-
ware how they side themselves, and make themselves as of a
faction or party ; for leagues within the state are ever per-
nicious to monarchies : for they raise an obligation para-
mount to obligation of sovereignty, and make the king
tanquam unus ex nobis [like one of ourselves] ; as was to be
seen in the League of France. When factions are carried
too high and too violently, it is a sign of weakness in
princes; and much to the prejudice both of their authority
and business. The motions of factions under kings ought to
be like the motions (as the astronomers speak) of the in-
^ Gets an advantage.
OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS ISl
ferior orbs, which may have their proper motions, but yet
still are quietly carried by the higher motion of primum
mobile.'
LI I
OF CEREMOXIES AXD RESPECTS
He that is only real had need have exceeding great parts
of virtue; as the stone had need to be rich that is set with-
out foil/ But if a man mark it well, it is in praise and
commendation of men as it is in gettings and gains: for the
proverb is true. That light gains make heavy purses; for
light gains come thick, whereas great come but now and
then. So it is true that small matters win great commenda-
tion, because they are continually in use and in note : whereas
the occasion of any great virtue cometh but on festivals.
Therefore it doth much add to a man's reputation, and is
(as Queen Isabella said) like perpetual letters commendatory,
to have good forms. To attain them it almost sufliceth not to
despise them ; for so shall a man observe them in others ; and
let him trust himself with the rest. For if he labor too much
to express them, he shall lose their grace; which is to be
natural and unaffected. Some men's behavior is like a verse,
wherein every syllable is measured ; how can a man compre-
hend great matters, that breaketh his mind too much to
small observations? Not to use ceremonies at all is to teach
others not to use them again ; and so diminisheth respect to
himself; especially they be not to be omitted to strangers
and formal natures ; but the dwelling upon them, and exalt-
ing them above the moon, is not only tedious but doth di-
minish the faith and credit of him that speaks. And certainly
there is a kind of conveying of effectual and imprinting*
passages amongst compliments, which is of singular use. if a
man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's peers a man shall be
sure of familiarity ; and therefore it is good a little to keep
state. Amongst a man's inferiors one shall be sure of rever-
ence; and therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that
- See Essay xv. n. 3.
^Gold or silver leaf behind a precious stone to add luster. " Impressive.
132 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
is too much in anything, so that he giveth another occasion
of satiety, maketh himself cheap. To apply one's self to
others is good ; so it be with demonstration that a man doth
it upon regard, and not upon facility. It is a good precept
generally in seconding another, yet to add somewhat of one's
own : as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some
distinction; if you will follow his motion, let it be with con-
dition; if you allow his counsel, let it be with alleging further
reason. Men had need beware how they be too perfect in
compliments; for be they never so sufficient otherwise, their
enviers will be sure to give them that attribute, to the dis-
advantage of their greater virtues. It is loss also in business
to be too full of respects, or to be curious in observing times
and opportunities. Solomon saith. He that considereth the
wind shall not sow, and he that looketh to the clouds shall
not reap. A wise man will make more opportunities than he
finds. Men's behavior should be like their apparel, not too
strait or point device,^ but free for exercise or motion.
LIII
OF PRAISE
Praise is the reflection of virtue; but it is as the glass
or body which giveth the reflection. If it be from the com-
mon people, it is commonly false and naught; and rather
followeth vain persons than virtuous. For the common
people understand not many excellent virtues. The lowest
virtues draw praise from them; the middle virtues work
in them astonishment or admiration ; but of the highest
virtues they have no sense of perceiving at all. But shows.
and species virtutibus similes [qualities resembling virtues],
serve best with them. Certainly fame is like a river, that
beareth up things light and swoln, and drowns things
weighty and solid. But if persons of quality and judgment
concur,* then it is (as the Scripture saith) nomen bonum
instar unguenti fragrantis [a good name like unto a sweet
ointment]. It filleth all round about, and will not easily
away. For the odors of ointments are more durable than
^ Excessively precise. ^ Agree (in praising).
OF PRAISE 133
those of flowers. There be so many false points of praise,
that a man may justly hold it a suspect. Some praises pro-
ceed merely of flattery; and if he be an ordinary flatterer,
he will have certain common attributes, which may serve
every man ; if he be a cunning flatterer, he will follow the
arch-flatterer, which is a man's self; and wherein a man
thinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer will uphold
him most: but if he be an impudent flatterer, look wherein
a man is conscious to himself that he is most defective, and
is most out of countenance in himself, that will the flat-
terer entitle him to perforce, sprcta conscicntia [in disdain
of conscience]. Some praises come of good wishes and
respects, which is a form due in civility to kings and great
persons, laudando prcccipere [to teach in praising], when
by telling men what they are, they represent to them what
they should be. Some men are praised maliciously to their
hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards them: pes-
sintum genus inimicorum laudantium [the worst kind of
enemies are they that praise] ; insomuch as it was a proverb
amongst the Grecians, that he that was praised to his hurt
should have a push' rise upon his nose; as we say, that a
blister will rise upon one's tongue that tells a lie. Certainly
moderate praise, used with opportunity, and not vulgar, is
that which doth the good. Solomon saith, He that praiseth
his friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better
than a curse. Too much magnifying of man or matter doth
irritate contradiction, and procure envy and scorn. To praise
a man's self cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases;
but to praise a man's office or profession, he may do it with
good grace, and with a kind of magnanimity. The cardinals
of Rome, which are theologues, and friars, and Schoolmen,
have a phrase of notable contempt and scorn towards civil
business : for they call all temporal business of wars, embas-
sages, judicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which
is under-sheriff ries ; as if they were but matters for under-
sheriffs and catchpoles : though many times those under-
sheriffries do more good than their high speculations. St.
Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft interlace, /
speak like a fool; but speaking of his calling, he saith,
magnificabo apostolatuni meuvi [I will magnify my mission].
* Pimple.
1S4 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
LIV
OF VAIX-GLORY
It was prettily devised of .^sop. The Hy sat upon the
axle-tree of the chariot n'heel, and said, What a dust do I
raise! So are there some vain persons, that whatsoever
goeth alone or moveth upon greater means, if they have
never so little hand in it, they think it is they that carry
it. They that are glorious must needs be factious ; for all
bravery stands upon comparisons. They must needs be
violent, to make good their own vaunts. Neither can they
be secret, and therefore not efifectual : but according to the
French proverb, Beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit; Much bruit,
little fruit. Yet certainly there is use of this quality in civil
affairs. Where there is an opinion and fame to be created
either of virtue or greatness, these men are good trumpeters.
Again, as Titus Livius noteth in the case of Antiochus and
the ^tolians, There are sometimes great eifects of cross
lies; as if a man that negotiates between two princes, to
draw them to join in a war against the third, doth extol the
forces of either of them above measure, the one to the other:
and sometimes he that deals between man and man raiseth
his own credit with both, by pretending greater interest than
he hath in either. And in these and the like kinds, it often
falls out that somewhat is produced of nothing; for lies are
sufficient to breed opinion, and opinion brings on substance.
In militar commanders and soldiers, vain-glory is an es-
sential point ; for as iron sharpens iron, so by glory^ one
courage sharpeneth another. In cases of great enterprise
upon charge and adventure,* a composition of glorious na-
tures doth put life into business; and those that are of solid
and sober natures have more of the ballast than of the sail.
In fame of learning, the flight will be slow without some
feathers of ostentation. Qui de contevinenda gloria libros
scribunt, nomen, sunm inscribunt [They that write books on
the worthlessness of glory, take care to put their names on
the title page]. Socrates, Aristotle, Galen, were men full
o£ ostentation. Certainly vain-glory helpeth to perpetuate
^ Boasting. ^ Cost and risk.
OF HONOR AND REPUTATION 135
a man's memory ; and virtue was never so beholding to
human nature, as it received his due at the second hand.
Neither had the fame of Cicero, Seneca, PHnius Secundus,
borne her age so well, if it had not been joined with some
vanity in themselves ; like unto varnish, that makes ceilings
not only shine but last. But all this while, when I speak
of vain-glory, I mean not of that property that Tacitus doth
attribute to Mucianus ; Oiinuinii quce dixerat feceratqiie arte
quadam osfentator [A man that had a kind of art of setting
forth to advantage all that he had said or done] : for that
proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magnanimity and
discretion ; and in some persons is not only comely, but
gracious. For excusations. cessions, modesty itself well
governed, are but arts of ostentation. And amongst those
arts there is none better than that which Plinius Secundus
speaketh of, which is to be liberal of praise and commendation
to others, in that wherein a man's self hath any perfection.
For saith Pliny very wittily, In commending another you
do yourself right; for he that you commend is either superior
to you in that you commend, or inferior. If he he inferior,
if he he to he commended, you much more ; if he he superior,
if he he not to he commended, you much less. Glorious men
are the scorn of wise men, the admiration of fools, the idols
of parasites, and the slaves of their own vaunts.
LV
OF HONOR AND REPUTATION
The winning of honor is but the revealing of a man's
virtue and worth without disadvantage. For some in their
actions do woo and effect honor and reputation ; which
sort of men are commonly much talked of, but inwardly little
admired. And some, contrariwise, darken their virtue in the
show of it; so as they be undervalued in opinion. If a
man perform that which hath not been attempted before ; or
attempted and given over; or hath been achieved, but not
with so good circumstance; he shall purchase more honor,
than by effecting a matter of greater difficulty or virtue.
136 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
wherein he is but a follower. If a man so temper his actions,
as in some one of them he doth content every faction or
combination of people, the music will be the fuller. A man
is an ill husband^ of his honor, that entereth into any action,
the failing wherein may disgrace him more than the carrying
of it through can honor him. Honor that is gained and
broken" upon another hath the quickest reflection, like
diamonds cut with facets. And therefore let a man con-
tend to excel any competitors of his in honor, in outshooting
them, if he can, in their own bow. Discreet followers
and servants help much to reputation. Omnis fama a domes-
ticis emanai [All fame proceeds from servants]. Envy,
which is the canker of honor, is best extinguished by declar-
ing a man's self in his ends rather to seek merit than fame;
and by attributing a man's successes rather to divine Provi-
dence and felicity, than to his own virtue or policy. The
true marshalling of the degrees of sovereign honor are
these: In the first place are conditorcs impcriorum, founders
of states and commonwealths ; such as were Romulus, Cyrus,
Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael. In the second place are legis-
latores, lawgivers ; which are also called second founders,
or perpetiii principcs [perpetual rulers], because they govern
by their ordinances after they are gone ; such were Lycur-
gus, Solon, Justinian, Eadgar, Alphonsus of Castile, the
Wise, that made the Sicte Partidas^ [Seven Parts]. In the
third place are Hheratores, or salvatores [saviors], such as
compound the long miseries of civil wars, or deliver their
countries from servitude of strangers or tyrants ; as Augustus
Caesar, Vespasianus, Aurelianus, Theodoricus, King Henry
the Seventh of England, King Henry the Fourth of France.
In the fourth place are propagatorcs or propugnatores im-
perii [champions of the empire] ; such as in honorable wars
enlarge their territories, or make noble defence against
invaders. And in the last place are patres patrice [fathers of
their country] ; which reign justly, and make the times good
wherein they live. Both which last kinds need no examples,
they are in such number. Degrees of honor in subjects are,
first participes curanim [participants in cares], those upon
whom princes do discharge the greatest weight of their
^ Manager. - Made to shine by competition. ^ The Spanish code of laws.
OF JUDICATURE 137
affairs; riieir right hands, as we call them. The next are
duces belli, great leaders [in war] ; such as are princes'
lieutenants, and do them notable services in the wars. The
third are gratiosi, favorites ; such as exceed not this scant-
ling,* to be solace to the sovereign, and harmless to the people.
And the fourth, negotiis pares [equals in business] ; such as
have great places under princes, and execute their places
with sufficiency. There is an honor, likewise, which may
be ranked amongst the greatest which happeneth rarely;
that is, of such as sacrifice themselves to death or danger
for the good of their country; as was M. Regulus, and the
two Decii.
LVI
OF JUDICATURE
Judges ought to remember that their office is jus dicere, and
not jus dare, -to interpret law, and not to make law, or give law.
Else will it be like the authority claimed by the Church of
Rome, which under pretext of exposition of Scripture doth not
stick to add and alter; and to pronounce that which they do
not find ; and by show of antiquity to introduce novelty.
Judges ought to be more learned than witty, more reverend
than plausible, and more advised than confident. Above
all things, integrity is their portion and proper virtue.
Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the landmark.
The mislayer of a mere-stone^ is to blame. But it is the
unjust judge that is the capital remover of landmarks, when
he defineth amiss of lands and property. One foul sentence
doth more hurt than many foul examples. For these do
but corrupt the stream, the other corrupteth the fountain.
So saith Solomon, Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta, est
Justus cadens in causa sua coram adversaria [A righteous
man falling down before the wicked is as a troubled fountain
or a corrupt spring]. The office of judges may have refer-
ence unto the parties that sue, unto the advocates that plead,
unto the clerks and ministers of justice underneath them,
and to the sovereign or state above them.
* Measure. i Boundary stone.
138 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
First, for the causes or parties that sue. There be (saith
the Scripture) that turn judgment into wormwood ; and
surely there be also that turn it into vinegar; for injustice
maketh it bitter, and delays make it sour. The principal
duty of a judge is to suppress force and fraud; whereof
force is the more pernicious when it is open, and fraud when
it is close and disguised. Add thereto contentious suits,
which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeit of courts. A
judge ought to prepare his way to a just sentence, as God
useth to prepare his way, by raising valleys and taking down
hills: so when there appeareth on either side an high hand,
violent prosecution, cunning advantages taken, combination,
power, great counsel, then is the virtue of a judge seen, to
make inequality equal; that he may plant his judgment as
upon an even ground. Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sanguincm
[Violent wringing makes the nose bleed]; and where the
wine-press is hard wrought, it yields a harsh wine, that tastes
of the grape-stone. Judges must beware of hard construc-
tions and strained inferences; for there is no worse torture
than the torture of laws. Specially in case of laws penal,
they ought to have care that that which was meant for
terror be not turned into rigor ; and that they bring not upon
the people that shower whereof the Scripture speaketh,
Pluet super cos laqueos [He will rain snares upon them] ;
for penal laws pressed are a shozver of snares upon the
people. Therefore let penal laws, if they have been sleepers
of long, or if they be grown unfit for the present time, be
by wise judges confined in the execution: Judicis officium est,
ut res,, it a tempora rerum, etc. [A judge must have regard
to the time as well as to the matter]. In causes of life and
death, judges ought (as far as the law permitteth) in justice
to remember mercy ; and to cast a severe eye upon the
example, but a merciful eye upon the person.
Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead. Pa-
tience and gravity of hearing is an essential part of justice ;
and an overspeaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is
no grace to a judge first to find that which he might have
heard in due time from the bar; or to show quickness of
conceit in cutting off evidence or counsel too short; or to
prevent information by questions, though pertinent. The
OF JUDICATURE 139
parts of a judge in hearing are four: to direct the evidence;
to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech ; to
recapitulate, select, and collate the material points of that
which hath been said ; and to give the rule or sentence.
Whatsoever is above these is too much; and proceedeth
either of glory and willingness to speak, or of impatience
to hear, or of shortness of memory, or of want of a staid
and equal attention. It is a strange thing to see that the
boldness of advocates should prevail with judges; whereas
they should imitate God, in whose seat they sit; who re-
presseth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest.
But it is more strange, that judges should have noted favo-
rites; which cannot but cause multiplication of fees, and
suspicion of by-ways. There is due from the judge to the
advocate some commendation and gracing, where causes are
well handled and fair pleaded; especially towards the side
which obtaineth not ; for that upholds in the client the repu-
tation of his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit of
his cause. There is likewise due to the public a civil repre-
hension of advocates, where there appeareth cunning counsel,
gross neglect, slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an
over-bold defence. And let not the counsel at the bar chop'
with the judge, nor wind himself into the handling of the
cause anew after the judge hath declared his sentence; but,
on the other side, let not the judge meet the cause Half way,
nor give occasion for the party to say his counsel or proofs
were not heard.
Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and ministers. The
place of justice is an hallowed place; and therefore not
only the bench, but the foot-pace^ and precincts and purprise*
thereof, ought to be preserved without scandal and corrup-
tion. For certainly grapes (as the Scripture saith) "will not
be gathered of thorns or thistles; neither can justice yield
her fruit with sweetness amongst the briars and brambles
of catching and polling' clerks and ministers. The attend-
ance of courts is subject to four bad instruments. First,
certain persons that are sowers of suits; which make the
court swell, and the country pine. The second sort is of
those that engage courts in quarrels of jurisdiction, and are
' Bandy words. ' Lobby. * Enclosure. ' Extorting fees.
140 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
not truly aniici curicc, but parasiti curiae [not friends but
parasites of the court], in puffing a court up beyond her
bounds, for their own scraps and advantage. The third sort
is of those that may be accounted the left hands of courts ;
persons that are full of nimble and sinister tricks and shifts,
whereby they pervert the plain and direct courses of courts,
and bring justice into oblique lines and labyrinths. And the
fourth is the poller and exacter of fees; which justifies the
common resemblance of the courts of justice to the bush
whereunto while the sheep flies for defence in weather, he
is sure to lose part of his fleece. On the other side, an
ancient clerk, skilful in precedents, wary in proceeding, and
understanding in the business of the court, is an excellent
finger of a court ; and doth many times point the way to the
judge himself.
Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and
estate. Judges ought above all to remember the conclusion
of the Roman Twelve Tables ; Salus popiili suprema lex [The
supreme law of all is the weal of the people] ; and to know
that laws, except they be in order to that end, are but things
captious, and oracles not well inspired. Therefore it is an
happy thing in a state when kings and states do often con-
sult with judges; and again when judges do often consult
with the king and state: the one, when there is matter ol
law intervenient in business of state ; the other, when there
is some consideration of state intervenient in matter of law.
For many times the things deduced' to judgment may be
meiim and tuum [mine and thine], when the reason'' and
consequence thereof may trench to* point of estate: I call
matter of estate, not only the parts of sovereignty, but what-
soever introduceth any great alteration or dangerous prece-
dent; or concerneth manifestly any great portion of people.
And let no man weakly conceive that just laws and true
policy have any antipathy; for they are like the spirits and
sinews, that one moves with the other. Let judges also re-
member, that Solomon's throne was supported by lions on
both sides : let them be lions, but yet lions under the throne ;
being circumspect that they do not check or oppose any
points of sovereignty. Let not judges also be ignorant of
• Brought into court. ^ Principle. ^ Touch.
OF ANGER 141
their own right, as to think there is not left to them, as a
principal part of their office, a wise use and application of
laws. For they may remember what the apostle saith of a
greater law than theirs ; Nos scunus quia lex bona est, modo
quis ea utahir legitime [We know that the law is good, if a
man use it lawfully].
LVII
OF ANGER
To SEEK to extinguish anger utterly is but a bravery^ of
the Stoics. We have better oracles: Be angry, hut sin not.
Let not the sun go down upon your anger. Anger must be
limited and confined both in race and in time. We will first
speak how the natural inclination and habit to be angry may
be attempered and calmed. Secondly, how the particular
motions of anger may be repressed, or at least refrained from
doing mischief. Thirdly, how to raise anger or appease
anger in another.
For the first; there is no other way but to meditate and
ruminate well upon the effects of anger, how it troubles
man's life. And the best time to do this is to look back
upon anger when the fit is thoroughly over. Seneca saith
well. That anger is like ruin, which breaks itself upon that
it falls. The Scripture exhorteth us to possess our souls in
patience. Whosoever is out of patience, is out of possession
of his soul. Men must not turn bees;
. . . animasque in vulnere ponunt
[that put their lives in the sting].
Anger is certainly a kind of baseness ; as it appears well
in the weakness of those subjects in whom it reigns; chil-
dren, women, old folks, sick folks. Only men must beware
that they carry their anger rather with scorn than with
fear; so that they may seem rather to be above the injury
than below it ; which is a thing easily done, if a man will
give law to himself in it.
For the second point ; the causes and motives of anger are
1 Boast.
142 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
chiefly three. First, to be too sensible of hurt; for no man
is angry that feels not himself hurt ; and therefore tender and
delicate persons must needs be oft angry ; they have so many
things to trouble them, which more robust natures have little
sense of. The next is, the apprehension and construction of
the injury offered to be, in the circumstances thereof, full
of contempt : for contempt is that which putteth an edge upon
anger, as much or more than the hurt itself. And there-
fore when men are ingenious in picking out circumstances
of contempt, they do kindle their anger much. Lastly,
opinion of the touch of a man's reputation doth multiply and
sharpen anger. Wherein the remedy is, that a man should
have, as Consalvo was wont to say, telain honoris crassiorem
[an honor of a stouter web]. But in all refrainings of anger,
it is the best remedy to win time ; and to make a man's self
believe, that the opportunity of his revenge is not yet come,
but that he foresees a time for it ; and so to still himself in
the meantime, and reserve it.
To contain anger from mischief, though it take hold of a
man, there be two things whereof you must have special cau-
tion. The one, of extreme bitterness of words, especially if
they be aculeate^ and proper;^ for cummiinia maledicta [com-
mon revilings] are nothing so much ; and again, that in anger
a man reveal no secrets ; for that makes him not fit for
society. The other, that you do not peremptorily break off,
in any business, in a fit of anger; but howsoever you show
bitterness, do not act anything that is not revocable.
For raising and appeasing anger in another ; it is done
chiefly by choosing of times, when men are frowardest and
worst disposed, to incense them. Again, by gathering (as
was touched before) all that you can find out to aggravate
the contempt. And the two remedies are by the contraries.
The former to take good times, when first to relate to a man
an angry business ; for the first impression is much ; and the
other is, to sever, as much as may be, the construction of
the injury from the point of contempt; imputing it to mis-
understanding, fear, passion, or what you will.
^ Stinging. ' Personal.
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS 143
^ LVIII
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS
Solomon saith, There is no new thing upon the earth. So
that as Plato had an imagination, That all knowledge was
but remembrance; so Solomon giveth his sentence, Tliat all
novelty is but oblivion. Whereby you may see that the river
of Lethe runneth as well above ground as below. There is
an abstruse astrologer that saith, // it were not for two
things that are constant (the one is, that the fixed stars ever
stand a like distance one from another, and never come nearer,
together, nor go further asunder; the other, that the diurnal
motion perpetually keepcth time), no individual would last
one moment. Certain it is, that the matter is in a perpetual
flux, and never at a stay. The great winding-sheets, that
bury all things in oblivion, are two ; deluges and earthquakes.
As for conflagrations and great droughts, they do not merely
dispeople and destroy. Phaeton's car went but a day. And
the three years' drought in the time of Elias was but par-
ticular, and left people alive. As for the great burnings by
lightnings, which are often in the West Indies, they are but
narrow. But in the other two destructions, by deluge and
earthquake, it is further to be noted, that the remnant of
people which hap to be reserved, are commonly ignorant and
mountainous people, that can give no account of the time
past; so that the oblivion is all one as if none had been left.
If you consider well of the people of the West Indies, it is
very probable that they are a newer or a younger people
than the people of the Old World. And it is much more
likely that the destruction that hath heretofore been there
was not by earthquakes (as the Egyptian priest told Solon
concerning the island of Atlantis, that it was swallowed by
an earthquake), but rather that it was desolated by a par-
ticular deluge. For earthquakes are seldom in those parts.
But on the other side, they have such pouring rivers, as the
rivers of Asia and Africk and Europe are but brooks to them.
Their Andes, likewise, or mountains, are far higher than
those with us ; whereby it seems that the remnants of genera-
tion of men were in such a particular deluge saved. As for
144 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
the observation that ilachiavel hath, that the jealousy of
sects doth much extinguish the memory of things ; traducing
Gregory the Great, that he did what in him lay to extinguish
all heathen antiquities ; I do not find that those zeals do any
great effects, nor last long; as it appeared in the succession
of Sabinian,^ who did revive the former antiquities.
The vicissitude of mutations in the superior globe" are no
fit matter for this present argument. It may be, Plato's great
year,' if the world should last so long, would have some
effect; not in renewing the state of like individuals (for that
is the fume of those that conceive the celestial bodies have
more accurate influences upon these things below than in-
deed they have), but in gross. Comets, out of question,
have likewise power and effect over the gross and mass of
things ; but they are rather gazed upon, and waited upon in
their journey, than wisely observed in their effects; specially
in their respective effects; that is, what kind of comet, for
magnitude, color, version of the beams, placing in the reign
of heaven, or lasting, produceth what kind of effects.
There is a toy which I have heard, and I would not have
it given over, but waited upon a little. They say it is ob-
served in the Low Countries (I know not in what part) that
every five and thirty years the same kind and suit of years
and weathers comes about again; as great frosts, great wet,
great droughts, warm winters, summers with little heat, and
the like ; and they call it the Prime. It is a thing I do the
rather mention, because, computing backwards, I have found
some concurrence.
But to leave these points of nature, and to come to men.
The greatest vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicis-
situde of sects and religions. For those orbs rule in men's
minds most. The true religion is hiiilt upon the rock; the
rest are tossed upon the waves of time. To speak, therefore,
of the causes of new sects ; and to give some counsel con-
cerning them, as far as the weakness of human judgment
can give stay to so great revolutions.
When the religion formerly received is rent by discords;
and when the holiness of the professors of religion is de-
* The Pope who succeeded Gregory the Great. ^ The heavens.
3 When the great cycle of all the heavenly motions shall be completed.
OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS 145
cayed and full of scandal; and withal the times be stupid,
ignorant, and barbarous ; you may doubt* the springing up of
a new sect; if then also there should arise any extravagant
and strange spirit to make himself author thereof. All which
points held when Mahomet published his law. If a new sect
have not two properties, fear it not; for it will not spread.
The one is the supplanting or the opposing of authority es-
tablished ; for nothing is more popular than that. The other
is the giving licence to pleasures and a voluptuous life. For
as for speculative heresies (such as were in ancient times
the Arians, and now the Arminians), though they work
mightily upon men's wits, yet they do not produce any great
alterations in states ; except it be by the help of civil oc-
casions. There be three manner of plantations of new sects.
By the power of signs and miracles ; by the eloquence and
wisdom of speech and persuasion ; and by the sword. For
martyrdoms, I reckon them amongst miracles; because they
seem to exceed the strength of human nature : and I may do
the like of superlative and admirable holiness of life. Surely
there is no better way to stop the rising of new sects and
schisms than to reform abuses; to compound the smaller
differences; to proceed mildly, and not with sanguinary
persecutions ; and rather to take ofif the principal authors by
winning and advancing them, than to enrage them by vio-
lence and bitterness.
The changes and vicissitude in wars are many ; but chiefly
in three things ; in the seats or stages of the war ; in the
weapons ; and in the manner of the conduct. Wars, in
ancient time, seemed more to move from east to west; for
the Persians, Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which were the
invaders) were all eastern people. It is true, the Gauls were
western ; but we read but of two incursions of theirs : the one
to Gallo-Grecia, the other to Rome. But east and west have
no certain points of heaven ; and no more have the wars,
either from the east or west, any certainty of observation. But
north and south are fixed ; and it hath seldom or never been
seen that the far southern people have invaded the northern,
but contrariwise. Whereby it is manifest that the northern
tract of the world is in nature the more martial region: be
* Fear.
146 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
it in respect of the stars of that hemisphere ; or of the great
continents that are upon the north, whereas the south part,
for aught that is known, is almost all sea; or (which is
most apparent) of the cold of the northern parts, which is
that which, without aid of discipline, doth make the bodies
hardest, and the courages warmest.
Upon the breaking and shivering of a great state and em-
pire, you may be sure to have wars. For great empires,
while they stand, do enervate and destroy the forces of the
natives which they have subdued, resting upon their own
protecting forces ; and then when they fail also, all goes to
ruin, and they become a prey. So was it in the decay of the
Roman empire; and likewise in the empire of Almaigne, after
Charles the Great, every bird taking a feather ; and were not
unlike to befall to Spain, if it should break. The great ac-
cessions and unions of kingdoms do likewise stir up wars ;
for when a state grows to an over-power, it is like a great
flood, that will be sure to overflow. As it hath been seen in
the states of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and others. Look when
the world hath fewest barbarous peoples, but such as com-
monly will not marry or generate, except they know means
to live (as it is almost everywhere at this day, except
Tartary), there is no danger of inundations of people; but
when there be great shoals of people, which go on to populate.
without foreseeing means of life and sustentation, it is of
necessity that once in an age or two they discharge a portion
of their people upon other nations ; which the ancient north-
ern people were wont to do by lot; casting lots what part
should stay at home, and what should seek their fortunes.
When a warlike state grows soft and effeminate, they may
be sure of a war. For commonly such states are grown rich
in the time of their degenerating; and so the prey inviteth,
and their decay in valor encourageth a war.
As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule and ob-
servation : yet we see even they have returns and vicissitudes.
For certain it is, that ordnance was known in the city of the
Oxidrakes in India ; and was that which the Macedonians
called thunder and lightning, and magic. And it is well
known that the use of ordnance hath been in China above
two thousand years. The conditions of weapons, and their
OF FAME 147
improvement, are; First, the fetching afar off; for that out-
runs the danger; as it is seen in ordnance and muskets.
Secondly, the strength of the percussion ; wherein likewise
ordnance do exceed all arietations^ and ancient inventions.
The third is, the commodious use of them; as that they may
serve in all weathers ; that the carriage may be light and
manageable ; and the like.
For the conduct of the war : at the first, men rested ex-
tremely upon number : they did put the wars likewise upon
main force and valor ; pointing days for pitched fields, and
so trying it out upon an even match : and they were more
ignorant in ranging and arraying their battles.* After they
grew to rest upon number rather competent than vast; they
grew to advantages of place, cunning diversions, and the like :
and they grew more skilful in the ordering of their battles.
In the youth of a state, arms do flourish ; in the middle
age of a state, learning; and then both of them together for
a time ; in the declining age of a state, mechanical arts and
merchandize. Learning hath his infancy, when it is but be-
ginning and almost childish ; then his youth, when it is lux-
uriant and juvenile; then his strength of years, when it is
solid and reduced ;^ and lastly, his old age, when it waxeth
dry and exhaust. But it is not good to look too long upon
these turning wheels of vicissitude, lest we become giddy.
As for the philology* of them, that is but a circle of tales,
and therefore not fit for this writing.
LIX
OF FAME*
A Fragment
The poets make Fame a monster. They describe her in
part finely and elegantly, and in part gravely and senten-
tiously. They say, look how many feathers she hath, so many
eyes she hath underneath ; so many tongues ; so many voices ;
she pricks up so many ears.
"* Battering-rams. * Battalions. '' Brought within bounds. ^ History.
1 Fame is used here in the two senses of reputation and rumor.
148 THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
This is a flourish. There follow excellent parables ; as
that she gathereth strength in going; that she goeth upon the
ground and yet hideth her head in the clouds; that in the
daytime she sitteth in a watch tower and flieth most by night ;
that she mingleth things done with things not done ; and
that she is a terror to great cities. But that which passeth
all the rest is : They do recount that the Earth, mother of
the giants that made war against Jupiter and were by him
destroyed, thereupon in an anger brought forth Fame. For
certain it is that rebels, figured by the giants, and seditious
fames and libels are but brothers and sisters, masculine and
feminine. But now, if a man can tame this monster, and
bring her to feed at the hand, and govern her, and with her
fly other ravening fowl and kill them, it is somewhat worth.
But we are infected with the style of the poets. To speak
now in a sad and serious manner : There is not in all the
politics a place less handled and more worthy to be handled
than this of fame. We will therefore speak of these points :
What are false fames; and what are true fames; and how
they may be best discerned; how fames may be sown and
raised ; how they may be spread and multiplied ; and how
they may be checked and laid dead. And other things con-
cerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that force, as there
is scarcely any great action wherein it hath not a great part ;
especially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius by a fame
that he scattered : that Vitellius had in purpose to remove
the legions of Syria into Germany and the legions of Ger-
many into Syria ; whereupon the legions of Syria were
infinitely inflamed. Julius Csesar took Pompey unprovided
and laid asleep his industry and preparations by a fam.e that
he cunningly gave out: Caesar's own soldiers loved him not,
and being wearied with the wars and laden with the spoils
of Gaul, would forsake him as soon as he came into Italy.
Livia settled all things for the succession of her son Tiberius
by continual giving out that her husband Augustus was upon
recovery and amendment. And it is an usual thing with the
pashas to conceal the death of the Great Turk from the
janizaries'' and men of war, to save the sacking of Constan-
tinople and other towns, as their manner is. Themistocles
- The Sultan's bodyguard.
OF FAME 149
made Xerxes, king of Persia, post apace out of Grecia by giv-
ing out that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge
of ships which he had made athwart Hellespont. There be
a thousand such like examples ; and the more they are, the
less they need to be repeated ; because a man meeteth with
them everywhere. Therefore let all wise governors have
as great a watch and care over fames as they have of the
actions and designs themselves.
IThe essay was not Unished.']
THE NEW ATLANTIS
BY
SIR FRANCIS BACON
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Bacon's literary executor, Dr. Rowley, published "The New
Atlantis^' in 1627, the year after the author's death. It seems to
have been written about 1623, during that period of literary ac-
tivity which followed Bacon's political fall. None of Bacons
writings gives in short space so vivid a picture of his tastes and
aspirations as this fragment of the plan of an ideal common-
wealth. The generosity and enlightenment, the dignity and splen-
dor, the piety and public spirit, of the inhabitants of Bensalem
represent the ideal qualities which Bacon the statesman desired
rather than hoped to see characteristic of his own country; and
in Solomon's House we have Bacon the scientist indulging
without restriction his prophetic vision of the future of human
knowledge. No reader acquainted in any degree with the proc-
esses and results of modern scientific inquiry can fail to he
struck by the numerous approximations made by Bacon's im-
agination to the actual achievements of modern times. The
plan and organisation of his great college lay dozvn the main
lines of the modern research university ; and both in pure and
applied science he anticipates a strikingly large number of recent
inventions and discoveries. In still another way is "The New
Atlantis" typical of Bacon's attitude. In spite of the enthusiastic
and broad-minded schemes he laid down for the pursuit of truth.
Bacon always had an eye to utility. The advancement of science
which he sought was conceived by him as a means to a practical
end — the increase of man's control over nature, and the comfort
and convenience of humanity. For pure metaphysics, or any
form of abstract thinking that yielded no "fruit," he had little^
interest; and this leaning to the useful is shown in the practical
applications of the discoveries made by the scholars of Solomon's
House. Nor does the interest of the work stop here. It contains
much, both in its political and in its scientific ideals, that we have
as yet by no means achieved, biit zvhich contain valuable elements
of suggestion and stimulus for the future.
THE NEW ATLANTIS
WE SAILED from Peru, (where we had continued by
the space of one whole year.) for China and Japan,
by the South Sea; taking with us victuals for
twelve months ; and had good winds from the east, though
soft and weak, for five months space, and more. But then
the wind came about, and settled in the west for many days,
so as we could make little or no way, and were sometimes
in purpose to turn back. But then again there arose strong
and great winds from the south, with a point east, which
carried us up (for all that we could do), towards the north;
by which time our victuals failed us, though we had made
good spare of them. So that finding ourselves, in the midst
of the greatest wilderness of waters in the world, without
victuals, we gave ourselves for lost men and prepared for
death. Yet we did lift up our hearts and voices to God
above, who showeth his zvonders in the deep, beseeching him
of his mercy, that as in the beginning he discovered the face
of the deep, and brought forth dry land, so he would now
discover land to us, that we might not perish.
And it came to pass that the next day about evening,
we saw within a kenning^ before us, towards the north, as
it were thick clouds, which did put us in some hope of
land; knowing how that part of the South Sea was utterly
unknown ; and might have islands, or continents, that
hitherto were not come to light. Wherefore we bent our
course thither, where we saw the appearance of land, all
that night; and in the dawning of the next day, we might
plainly discern that it was a land; flat to our sight, and full
of boscage;" which made it show the more dark. And after
^ Within sight. - Woods.
153
154 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
an hour and a half's sailing, we entered into a good haven,
being the port of a fair city ; not great indeed, but well built,
and that gave a pleasant view from the sea : and we thinking
every minute long, till we were on land, came close to the
shore, and offered to land. But straightways we saw divers
of the people, with bastons^ in their hands (as it were) for-
bidding us to land; yet without any cries of fierceness, but
only as warning us off. by signs that they made. Whereupon
being not a little discomforted,' we were advising with our-
selves, what we should do.
During which time, there made forth to us a small boat,
with about eight persons in it; whereof one of them had in
his hand a tipstaff' of a yellow cane, tipped at both ends with
blue, who came aboard our ship, without any show of distrust
at all. And when he saw one of our number, present him-
self somewhat before the rest, he drew forth a little scroll
of parchment (somewhat yellower than our parchment, and
shining like the leaves of writing tables, but otherwise soft
and flexible.) and delivered it to our foremost man. In
which scroll were written in ancient Hebrew, and in ancient
Greek, and in good Latin of the school,'^ and in Spanish,
these words: Land ye not, none of yoit; and provide to be
gone, from this coasts zvithin sixteen days, except you have
further time given you. Meanzvhile, if you want fresh uater
or victuals, or help for your sick, or that your ship needeth
repairs, write doivn your Zi'ants, and yott shall have that,
which belongeth to mercy. This scroll was signed with a
stamp of cherubim's wings, not spread, but hanging down-
wards ; and by them a cross. This being delivered, the
officer returned, and left only a servant with us to receive
our answer.
Consulting hereupon amongst ourselves, we were much
perplexed. The denial of landing and hasty warning us
away troubled us much ; on the other side, to find that the
people had languages, and were so full of humanity, did
comfort us not a little. And above all, the sign of the cross
to that instrument was to us a great rejoicing, and as it
were a certain presage of good. Our answer was in the
Spanish tongue; That for our ship, it was well; for zve had
2 Staves. * Discouraged. ^ Academic, as opposed to popular, Latin.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 155
rather met with calms and contrary ii'inds than any tem-
pests. For our sick, they zcere many, and in very ill case;
so that if they were not permitted to land, they ran danger
of their lives. Our other wants we set down in particular;
adding. That we had some little store of merchandise, which
if it pleased them to deal for, it might supply our wants,
i^ithout being chargeable unto them. We offered some re-
ward in pistolets^ unto the servant, and a piece of crimson
velvet to be presented to the officer; but the servant took
them not, nor would scarce look upon them ; and so left us,
and went back in another little boat, which was sent for him.
About three hours after we had dispatched our answer,
there came towards us a person (as it seemed) of place. He
had on him a gown with wide sleeves, of a kind of water
chamolet,' of an excellent azure colour, far more glossy than
ours; his under apparel was green; and so was his hat,
being in the form of a turban, daintily made, and not so
huge as the Turkish turbans; and the locks of his hair came
down below the brims of it. A reverend man was he to
behold. He came in a boat, gilt in some part of it, with
four persons more only in that boat ; and was followed by
another boat, wherein were some twenty. When he was
come within a flightshot* of our ship, signs were made to
us, that we should send forth some to meet him upon the
water; which we presently did in our ship-boat, sending the
principal man amongst us save one. and four of our number
with him.
When we were come within six yards of their boat, they
called to us to stay, and not to approach farther ; which
we did. And thereupon the man, whom I before described,
stood up, and with a loud voice, in Spanish, asked, " Are ye
Christians?" We answered, "We were;" fearing the less,
because of the cross we had seen in the subscription. At which
answer the said person lifted up his right hand towards
Heaven, and drew it softly to his mouth (which is the
gesture they use, when they thank God;) and then said: " If
ye will swear (all of you) by the merits of the Saviour,
that ye are no pirates, nor have shed blood, lawfully, nor
• Pistoles, Spanish gold coins. " Camlet with a wavy surface.
" A flight was a light arrow.
156 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
unlawfully within forty days past, you may have licence
to come on land." We said, '"' We were all ready to take that
oath." Whereupon one of those that were with him, being
(as it seemed) a notary, made an entry of this act. Which
done, another of the attendants of the great person which
was with him in the same boat, after his Lord had spoken
a little to him, said aloud : " My Lord would have you know,
that it is not of pride, or greatness, that he cometh not aboard
your ship ; but for that in your answer you declare that you
have many sick amongst you, he was warned by the Con-
servator of Health of the city that he should keep a dis-
tance." We bowed ourselves towards him, and answered,
" We were his humble servants ; and accounted for great
honour, and singular humanity towards us, that which was
already done ; but hoped well, that the nature of the sickness
of our men was not infectious." So he returned ; and a while
after came the Notary to us aboard our ship ; holding in his
hand a fruit of that country, like an orange, but of color
between orange-tawney and scarlet ; which cast a most ex-
cellent odour. He used it (as it seemeth) for a preservative
against infection. He gave us our oath ; " By the name of
Jesus, and his merits :" and after told us, that the next day,
by six of the Clock, in the Morning, we should be sent to,
and brought to the Strangers' House, (so he called it.)
where we should be accommodated of things, both for our
whole, and for our sick. So he left us ; and when we offered
him some pistolets, he smiling said, " He must not be twice
paid for one labour:" meaning (as I take it) that he had
salary sufficient of the State for his service. For (as I after
learned) they call an officer that taketh rewards, tziice paid.
The next morning early, there came to us the same officer
that came to us at first with his cane, and told us, " He came
to conduct us to the Strangers' House; and that he had pre-
vented' the hour, because" we might have the whole day
before us, for our business. For," said he, " if you will
follow my advice, there shall first go with me some few
of you, and see the place, and how it may be made convenient
for you; and then you may send for your sick, and the rest
of your number, which ye will bring on land." We thanked
° Come before. ^° In order that.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 157
him, and said, " That this care, which he took of desolate
strangers, God would reward." And so six of us went on
land with him: and when we were on land, he went before
us, and turned to us, and said, " He was but our servant, and
our guide." He led us through three fair streets ; and all the
way we went, there were gathered some people on both sides,
standing in a row ; but in so civil a fashion, as if it had
been, not to wonder at us, but to welcome us : and divers
of them, as we passed by them, put their arms a little
abroad;" which is their gesture, when they did bid any
welcome.
The Strangers' House is a fair and spacious house, built
of brick, of somewhat a bluer colour than our brick; and
with handsome windows, some of glass, some of a kind of
cambric oiled. He brought us first into a fair parlour above
stairs, and then asked us, "What number of persons we were?
And how many sick? " We answered, " We were in all, (sick
and whole,) one and fifty persons, whereof our sick were
seventeen." He desired us to have patience a little, and to
stay till he came back to us ; which was about an hour after ;
and then he led us to see the chambers which were provided
for us, being in number nineteen: they having cast^ it (as
it seemeth) that four of those chambers, which were better
than the rest, might receive four of the principal men of
our company; and lodge them alone by themselves; and the
other fifteen chambers were to lodge us two and two together.
The chambers were handsome and cheerful chambers, and
furnished civilly.^' Then he led us to a long gallery, like
a dorture," where he showed us all along the one side (for
the other side was but wall and window), seventeen cells,
very neat ones, having partitions of cedar wood. Which
gallery and cells, being in all forty, (many more than we
needed,) were instituted as an infirmary for sick persons.
And he told us withal, that as any of our sick waxed well,
he might be removed from his cell, to a chamber; for which
purpose there were set forth ten spare chambers, besides the
number we spake of before. This done, he brought us back
to the parlour, and lifting up his cane a little, (as they do
when they give any charge or command) said to us, " Ye
^ Stretched out. '= Planned. " Respectably. " Dormitory.
158 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
are to know, that the custom of the land requireth, that after
this day and to-morrow, (which we give you for removing
of your people from your ship,) you are to keep within doors
for three days. But let it not trouble you, nor do not think
yourselves restrained, but rather left to your rest and ease.
You shall want nothing, and there are six of our people
appointed to attend you, for any business you may have
abroad." We gave him thanks, with all affection and re-
spect, and said, " God surely is manifested in this land." We
offered him also twenty pistolets; but he smiled, and only
said; "What? twice paid! " And so he left us.
Soon after our dinner was served in ; which was right
good viands, both for bread and meat : better than any collegi-
ate diet, that I have known in Europe. We had also drink
of three sorts, all wholesome and good; wine of the grape;
a drink of grain, such as is with us our ale, but more
clear : And a kind of cider made of a fruit of that country ; a
wonderful pleasing and refreshing drink. Besides, there
were brought in to us, great store of those scarlet oranges,
for our sick; which (they said) were an assured remedy
for sickness taken at sea. There was given us also, a box of
small gray, or whitish pills, which they wished our sick
should take, one of the pills, every night before sleep ; which
(they said) would hasten their recovery.
The next day, after that our trouble of carriage and
removing of our men and goods out of our ship, was some-
what settled and quiet, I thought good to call our company
together; and when they were assembled, said unto them;
'■ My dear friends, let us know ourselves, and how it standeth
with us. We are men cast on land, as Jonas was, out of
the whale's belly, when we were as buried in the deep: and
now we are on land, we are but between death and life ;
for we are beyond, both the old world, and the new ; and
whether ever we shall see Europe, God only knoweth. It
is a kind of miracle hath brought us hither : and it must be
little less, that shall bring us hence. Therefore in regard
of our deliverance past, and our danger present, and to come,
let us look up to God, and every man reform his own ways.
Besides we are come here amongst a Christian people, full
of piety and humanity : let us not bring that confusion of face
THE NEW ATLANTIS 159
upon ourselves, as to show our vices, or unworthiness before
them. Yet there is more. For they have by commandment,
(though in form of courtesy) cloistered us within these
walls, for three days: who knoweth, whether it be not,
to take some taste of our manners and conditions?^ and if
they find them bad, to banish us straightways ; if good, to
give us further time. For these men that they have given
us for attendance, may withal have an eye upon us. There-
fore for God's love^ and as we love the weal of our souls
and bodies, let us so behave ourselves, as we may be at
peace with God, and may find grace in the eyes of this
people." Our company with one voice thanked me for my
good admonition, and promised me to live soberly and civilly,
and without giving any the least occasion of offence. So
we spent our three days joyfully, and without care, in ex-
pectation what would be done with us, when they were
expired. During which time, we had every hour joy of
the amendment of our sick ; who thought themselves cast
into some divine pool of healing; they mended so kindly,"
and so fast.
The morrow after our three days were past, there came
to us a new man, that we had not seen before, clothed in
blue as the former was, save that his turban was white,
with a small red cross on the top. He had also a tippet of
fine linen. At his coming in, he did bend to us a little, and
put his arms abroad. We of our parts saluted him in a very
lowly and submissive manner; as looking that from him, we
should receive sentence of life, or death : he desired to speak
with some few of us : whereupon six of us only staid, and
the rest avoided" the room. He said, " I am by office gover-
nor of this House of Strangers, and by vocation I am a
Christian priest : and therefore am come to you to offer you
my service, both as strangers and chiefly as Christians.
Some things I may tell you, which I think you will not be
unwilling to hear. The State hath given you license to stay
on land, for the space of six weeks ; and let it not trouble
you, if your occasions ask further time, for the law in this
point is not precise ; and I do not doubt, but my self shall be
able, to obtain for you such further time, as may be con-
** Dispositions. '• Naturally. " Left.
160 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
venient. Ye shall also understand, that the Strangers' House
is at this time rich, and much aforehand ; for it hath laid up
revenue these thirty-seven years; for so long it is since any
stranger arrived in this part: and therefore take ye no care;
the State will defray^* you all the time you stay ; neither shall
you stay one day the less for that. As for any merchandise
ye have brought, ye shall be well used, and have your re-
turn, either in merchandise, or in gold and silver: for to
us it is all one. And if you have any other request to make,
hide it not. For ye shall find we will not make your counte-
nance to fall by the answer ye shall receive. Only this I
must tell you, that none of you must go above a karan," (that
is with them a mile and an half) " from the walls of the
city, without especial leave."
We answered, after we had looked awhile one upon an-
other, admiring^® this gracious and parent-like usage ; " That
we could not tell what to say : for we wanted words to express
our thanks ; and his noble free offers left us nothing to ask.
It seemed to us. that we had before us a picture of our
salvation in Heaven ; for we that were a while since in the
jaws of death, were now brought into a place, where we
found nothing but consolations. For the commandment laid
upon us, we would not fail to obey it, though it was impos-
sible but our hearts should be enflamed to tread further upon
this happy and holy ground." We added ; " That our tongues
should first cleave to the roofs of our mouths, ere we should
forget, either his reverend person, or this whole nation, in our
prayers." We also most humbly besought him, to accept of us
as his true servants, by as just a right as ever men on earth
were bounden; laying and presenting, both our persons, and
all we had, at his feet. He said; " He was a priest, and looked
for a priest's reward; which was our brotherly love, and the
good of our souls and bodies." So he went from us, not with-
out tears of tenderness in his eyes ; and left us also con-
fused with joy and kindness, saying amongst ourselves; "That
we were come into a land of angels, which did appear to us
daily, and prevent us with comforts, which we thought not
of, much less expected."
The next day about ten of the clock, the Governor came
^8 Pay expenses. ^^ Wondering at.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 161
to us again, and after salutations, said familiarly ; " That he
was come to visit us;" and called for a chair, and sat him
down: and we, being some ten of us, (the rest were of the
meaner sort, or else gone abroad,) sat down with him.
And when we were set, he began thus : " We of this island of
Bensalem," (for so they call it in their language,) "have this;
that by means of our solitary situation ; and of the laws of
secrecy, which we have for our travellers, and our rare admis-
sion of strangers; we know well most part of the habitable
world, and are ourselves unknown. Therefore because he
that knoweth least is fittest to ask questions, it is more
reason, for the entertainment of the time, that ye ask me
questions, than that I ask you."
We answered ; "That we humbly thanked him that he would
give us leave so to do : and that we conceived by the taste
we had already, that there was no worldly thing on earth,
more worthy to be known than the state of that happy land.
But above all," (we said,) " since that we were met from the
several ends of the world, and hoped assuredly that we
should meet one day in the kingdom of Heaven, (for that
we were both parts Christians,) we desired to know, (in
respect that land was so remote, and so divided by vast and
unknown seas, from the land where our Saviour walked on
earth,) who was the apostle of that nation, and how it was
converted to the faith?" It appeared in his face that he
took great contentment in this our question : he said ; " Ye
knit my heart to you, by asking this question in the first place;
for it sheweth that you first seek the kingdom of heaven;
and I shall gladly, and briefly, satisfy your demand.
" About twenty years after the ascension of our Saviour,
it came to pass, that there was seen by the people of Renfusa,
(a city upon the eastern coast of our island,) within night,
(the night was cloudy, and calm,) as it might be some mile
into the sea, a great pillar of light ; not sharp, but in form of
a column, or cylinder, rising from the sea a great way up
towards heaven ; and on the top of it was seen a large
cross of light, more bright and resplendent than the body
of the pillar. Upon which so strange a spectacle, the people
of the city gathered apace together upon the sands, to
wonder; and so after put themselves into a number of small
HC III 6
162 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
boats, to go nearer to this marvellous sight. But when the
boats were come within (about) sixty yards of the pillar,
they found themselves all bound, and could go no further;
yet so as they might move to go about, but might not ap-
proach nearer: so as the boats stood all as in a theatre, be-
holding this light as an heavenly sign. It so fell out, that
there was in one of the boats one of the wise men, of the
society of Salomon's House; which house, or college (my
good brethren) is the very eye of this kingdom; who having
awhile attentively and devoutly viewed and contemplated this
pillar and cross, fell down upon his face; and then raised
himself upon his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven,
made his prayers in this manner.
"'LORD God of heaven and earth, thou hast vouchsafed
of thy grace to those of our order, to knozv thy zi'orks of
Creation, and the secrets of them: and to discern (as far as
appertaineth to the generations of men) between divine
miracles, zcorks of nature, works of art, and impostures and
illusions of all sorts. I do here acknozvledge and testify
before this people, that the thing which we now see before
our eyes is thy finger and a true Miracle. And forasmuch
as we learn in our books that thou never workest miracles,
but to a divine and excellent end, {for the laws of nature are
thine own laws, and thou exceedest them not but upon great
cause,)ive most humbly beseech thee to prosper this great
sign, and to give us the interpretation and use of it in mercy;
which thou dost in some part secretly promise by sending
it unto us.'
" When he had made his prayer, he presently found the
boat he was in, moveable and unbound ; whereas all the rest
remained still fast; and taking that for an assurance of leave
to approach, he caused the boat to be softly and with silence
rowed towards the pillar. But ere he came near it, the pillar
and cross of light brake up. and cast itself abroad, as it
were, into a firmament of many stars ; which also vanished
soon after, and there was nothing left to be seen, but a
small ark, or chest of cedar, dry, and not wet at all with
v/ater, though it swam. And in the fore-end of it, which was
THE NEW ATLANTIS 163
towards him, grew a small green branch of palm ; and when
the wise man had taken it, with all reverence, into his boat,
it opened of itself, and there were found in it a Book and
a Letter; both written in fine parchment, and wrapped in
sindons°* of linen. The Book contained all the canonical
books of the Old and New Testament, according as you have
them; (for we know well what the churches with you re-
ceive) ; and the Apocalypse itself, and some other books
of the New Testament, which were not at that time written,
were nevertheless in the Book. And for the Letter, it was in
these words:
" 7 Bartholontczi; a servant of the Highest, and Apostle of
Jesus Christ, was ziarned by an angel that appeareth to me,
in a vision of glory, that I should commit this ark to the
Hoods of the sea. Therefore I do testify and declare unto
that people zvhere God shall ordain this ark to come to
land, that in the same day is come unto them salvation and
peace and good-ivill, from the Father, and from the Lord
Jesus.'
" There was also in both these writings, as well the Book,
as the Letter, wrought a great miracle, conform^ to that of
the Apostles, in the original Gift of Tongues. For there being
at that time in this land Hebrews, Persians, and Indians,
besides the natives, every one read upon the Book, and
Letter, as if they had been written in his own language. And
thus was this land saved from infidelity (as the remainder
of the old world was from water) by an ark, through the
apostolical and miraculous evangelism of Saint Bartholomew."
And here he paused, and a messenger came, and called him
from us. So this was all that passed in that conference.
The next day, the same governor came again to us, im-
mediately after dinner, and excused himself, saying;" That
the day before he was called from us, somewhat abruptly, but
now he would make us amends, and spend time with us if
we held his company and conference agreeable." We an-
answered, " That we held it so agreeable and pleasing to us, as
we forgot both dangers past and fears to come, for the time
20 Pieces. "Similar.
164 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
we hear him speak; and that we thought an hour spent
with him, was worth years of our former Hfe." He bowed
himself a little to us, and after we were set again, he said ;
" Well, the questions are on your part."
One of our number said, after a little pause; that there
was a matter, we were no less desirous to know, than fearful
to ask, lest we might presume too far. But encouraged by
his rare humanity towards us, (that could scarce think our-
selves strangers, being his vowed and professed servants,)
we would take the hardiness to propound it: humbly be-
seeching him, if he thought it not fit to be answered, that he
would pardon it, though he rejected it. We said; "We well
observed those his words, which he formerly spake, that this
happy island, where we now stood, was known to few, and
yet knew most of the nations of the world ; which we found
to be true, considering they had the languages of Europe,
and knew much of our state and business ; and yet we
in Europe, (notwithstanding all the remote discoveries and
navigations of this last age), never heard of the least
inkling or glimpse of this island. This we found wonderful
strange ; for that all nations have inter-knowledge one of an-
other, either by voyage into foreign parts, or by strangers
that come to them: and though the traveller into a foreign
country, doth commonly know more by the eye, than he that
stayeth at home can by relation of the traveller; yet both
ways suffice to make a mutual knowledge, in some degree, on
both parts. But for this island, we never heard tell of any
ship of theirs that had been seen to arrive upon any shore
of Europe; nor of either the East or West Indies; nor yet
of any ship of any other part of the world, that had made
return from them. And yet the marvel rested not in this.
For the situation of it (as his lordship said) in the secret
conclave^ of such a vast sea might cause it. But then, that
they should have knowledge of the languages, books, affairs,
of those that lie such a distance from them, it was a thing
we could not tell what to make of ; for that it seemed to us a
condition"* and propriety^ of divine powers and beings, to be
hidden and imseen to others, and yet to have others open
and as in a light to them."
•* Private room. '* Property. '* Quality.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 165
At this speech the Governor gave a gracious smile, and
said ; " That we did well to ask pardon for this question we
now asked: for that it imported, as if we thought this land,
a land of magicians, that sent forth spirits of the air into all
parts, to bring them news and intelligence of other countries."
It was answered by us all, in all possible humbleness, but yet
with a countenance taking knowledge, that we knew that he
spake it but merrily, " That we were apt enough to think
there was somewhat supernatural in this island; but yet
rather as angelical than magical. But to let his lordship know
truly what it was that made us tender and doubtful to ask this
question, it was not any such conceit,"" but because we re-
membered, he had given a touch" in his former speech, that
this land had laws of secrecy touching strangers." To this he
said; " You remember it aright and therefore in that I shall
say to you, I must reserve some particulars, which it is not
lawful for me to reveal ; but there will be enough left, to
give you satisfaction.
" You shall understand (that which perhaps you will scarce
think credible) that about three thousand years ago, or some-
what more, the navigation of the world, (especially for remote
voyages,) was greater than at this day. Do not think with
yourselves, that I know not how much it is increased with
you, within these six-score years : I know it well : and yet I
say greater then than now; whether it was, that the ex-
ample of the ark, that saved the remnant of men from the
universal deluge, gave men confidence to adventure upon the
waters ; or what it was ; but such is the truth. The Phoeni-
cians, and especially the Tyrians, had great fleets. So had
the Carthaginians their colony, which is yet further west.
Toward the east the shipping of Egypt and of Palestina was
likewise great. China also, and the great Atlantis, (that
you call America,) which have now but junks and canoes,
abounded then in tall ships. This island, (as appeareth by
faithful registers of those times,) had then fifteen hundred
strong ships, of great content. Of all this, there is with you
sparing memory, or none; but we have large knowledge
thereof.
"At that time, this land was known and frequented by the
28 Idea. 27 Hint.
166 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
ships and vessels of all the nations before named. And (as
it cometh to pass) they had many times men of other
countries, that were no sailors, that came with them ; as
Persians, Chaldeans, Arabians; so as almost all nations of
might and fame resorted hither; of whom we have some
stirps.^ and little tribes with us at this day. And for our
own ships, they went sundry voyages, as well to your straits,
which you call the Pillars of Hercules, as to other parts in
the Atlantic and Mediterrane Seas; as to Paguin, (which
is the same with Cambaline,"*) and Quinzy, upon the Oriental
Seas, as far as to the borders of the East Tartary.
" At the same time, and an age after, or more, the inhabi-
tants of the great Atlantis did flourish. For though the
narration and description, which is made by a great man"^
with you ; that the descendants of Xeptune planted" there ;
and of the magnificent temple, palace, city, and hill ; and the
manifold streams of goodly navigable rivers, (which as so
many chains environed the same site and temple) ; and the
several degrees of ascent, whereby men did climb up to the
same, as if it had been a scaia cceli^ be all poetical and
fabulous : yet so much is true, that the said country of
Atlantis, as well that of Peru, then called Coya, as that of
Mexico, then named Tyrambel, were mighty and proud king-
doms in arms, shipping and riches : so mighty, as at one
time (or at least within the space of ten years) they both
made two great expeditions; they of Tyrambel through the
Atlantic to the Mediterrane Sea ; and they of Coya through
the South Sea upon this our island: and for the former of
these, which was into Europe, the same author amongst you
(as it seemeth) had some relation from the Egyptian priest
whom he cited. For assuredly such a thing there was. But
whether it were the ancient Athenians that had the glory of
the repulse and resistance of those forces, I can say nothing :
but certain it is, there never came back either ship or man
from that voyage. Neither had the other voyage of those of
Coya upon us had better fortune, if they had not met with
enemies of greater clemency. For the king of this island,
(by name Altabin,) a wise man and a great warrior, know-
^' Families. " Cambalu, Pekin, 3" Plato, in the " Critias."
"' Settled. '^ Ladder to heaven.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 167
ing well both his own strength and that of his enemies,
handled the matter so, as he cut off their land-forces from
their ships ; and entoiled"' both their navy and their camp
with a greater power than theirs, both by sea and land : and
compelled them to render themselves without striking stroke :
and after they were at his mercy, contenting himself only
with their oath that they should no more bear arms against
him, dismissed them all in safety.
"But the divine revenge overtook not long after those proud
enterprises. For within less than the space of one hundred
years, the great Atlantis was utterly lost and destroyed : not
by a great earthquake, as your man saith; (for that whole
tract is little subject to earthquakes;) but by a particular^*
deluge or inundation ; those countries having, at this day,
far greater rivers and far higher mountains to pour down
waters, than any part of the old world. But it is true that
the same inundation was not deep ; not past forty foot, in
most places, from the ground ; so that although it destroyed
man and beast generally, yet some few wild inhabitants of
the wood escaped. Birds also were saved by flying to the
high trees and woods. For as for men, although they had
buildings in many places, higher than the depth of the water,
yet that inundation, though it were shallow, had a long con-
tinuance ; whereby they of the vale that were not drowned,
perished for want of food and other things necessary.
" So as marvel you not at the thin population of America,
nor at the rudeness and ignorance of the people ; for you
must account your inhabitants of America as a young peo-
ple ; younger a thousand years, at the least, than the rest of
the world: for that there was so much time between the
universal flood and their particular inundation. For the
poor remnant of human seed, which remained in their moun-
tains, peopled the country again slowly, by little and little ;
and being simple and savage people, (not like Noah and his
sons, which was the chief family of the earth,) they were not
able to leave letters, arts, and civility^^ to their posterity; and
having likewise in their mountainous habitations been used
(in respect of the extreme cold of those regions) to clothe
themselves with the skins of tigers, bears, and great hairy
■^ Ensnared. '* Partial. *^ Civilization.
168 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
goats, that they have in those parts; when after they came
down into the valley, and found the intolerable heats which
are there, and knew no means of lighter apparel, they were
forced to begin the custom of going naked, which continueth
at this day. Only they take great pride and delight in the
feathers of birds ; and this also they took from those their
ancestors of the mountains, who were invited unto it by the
infinite flights of birds that came up to the high grounds,
while the waters stood below. So you see, by this main ac-
cident of time, we lost our traffic with the Americans, with
whom of all others, in regard they lay nearest to us, we had
most commerce.
" As for the other parts of the world, it is most manifest
that in the ages following (whether it were in respect of
wars, or by a natural revolution of time.) navigation did
every where greatly decay; and specially far voyages (the
rather by the use of galleys, and such vessels as could hardly
brook the ocean,) were altogether left and omitted. So then,
that part of intercourse which could be from other nations
to sail to us, you see how it hath long since ceased ; except
it were by some rare accident, as this of yours. But now of
the cessation of that other part of intercourse, which might
be by our sailing to other nations, I must yield you some
other cause. For I cannot say (if I shall say truly,) but our
shipping, for number, strength, mariners, pilots, and all
things that appertain to navigation, is as great as ever; and
therefore why we should sit at home, I shall now give you
an account by itself: and it will draw nearer to give you
satisfaction to your principal question.
" There reigned in this land, about nineteen hundred years
ago, a king, whose memory of all others we most adore ; not
superstitiously, but as a divine instrument, though a mortal
man ; his name was Solamona : and we esteem him as the
lawgiver of our nation. This king had a large heart, in-
scrutable for good; and was wholly bent to make his
kingdom and people happy. He therefore, taking into con-
sideration how sufficient and substantive''* this land was to
maintain itself without any aid (at all) of the foreigner;
being five thousand six hundred miles in -circuit, and of rare
*• Self-sufRcing.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 169
fertility of soil in the greatest part thereof : and finding also
the shipping of this country might be plentifully set on work,
both by fishing and by transportations from port to port, and
likewise by sailing unto some small islands that are not far
from us, and are under the crown and laws of this state;
and recalling into his memory the happy and flourishing
estate wherein this land then was ; so as it might be a thou-
sand ways altered to the worse, but scarce any one way to
the better ; thought nothing wanted to his noble and heroical
intentions, but only (as far as human foresight might reach)
to give perpetuity to that which was in his time so happily
established. Therefore amongst his other fundamental laws
of this kingdom, he did ordain the interdicts and prohibi-
tions which we have touching entrance of strangers ; which
at that time (though it was after the calamity of America)
was frequent; doubting" novelties, and commixture of man-
ners. It is true, the like law against the admission of stran-
gers without licence is an ancient law in the kingdom of
China, and yet continued in use. But there it is a poor thing;
and hath made them a curious, ignorant, fearful, foolish
nation. But our lawgiver made his law of another temper.
For first, he hath preserved all points of humanity, in taking
order and making provision for the relief of strangers dis-
tressed ; whereof you have tasted."
At which speech (as reason was) we all rose up and
bowed ourselves. He went on.
" That king also, still desiring to join humanity and policy
together; and thinking it against humanity, to detain stran-
gers here against their wills, and against policy that they
should return and discover their knowledge of this estate,
he took this course: he did ordain that of the strangers
that should be permitted to land, as many (at all times) might
depart as would; but as many as would stay should have
very good conditions and means to live from the state.
Wherein he saw so far, that now in so many ages since the
prohibition, we have memory not of one ship that ever re-
turned, and but of thirteen persons only, at several times,
that chose to return in our bottoms. What those few that
returned may have reported abroad I know not. But you
^'' Fearing.
170 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
must think, whatsoever they have said could be taken where
they came but for a dream. Now for our travelling from
hence into parts abroad, our Lawgiver thought fit alto-
gether to restrain it. So is it not in China. For the
Chinese sail where they will or can ; which sheweth that
their law of keeping out strangers is a law of pusilla-
nimity and fear. But this restraint of ours hath one only
exception, which is admirable ; preserving the good which
cometh by communicating with strangers, and avoiding the
hurt; and I will now open it to you. And here I shall
seem a little to digress, but you will by and by find it
pertinent.
" Ye shall understand (my dear friends) that amongst the
excellent acts of that king, one above all hath the pre-emi-
nence. It was the erection and institution of an Order or
Society, which we call Salomon's House; the noblest founda-
tion (as we think) that ever was upon the earth; and the
lanthorn of this kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the
works and creatures of God. Some think it beareth the foun-
der's name a little corrupted, as if it should be Solamona's
House. But the records write it as it is spoken. So as I
take it to be denominate of^ the king of the Hebrews,
which is famous with you, and no stranger to us. For we
have some parts of his works, which with you are lost;
namely, that natural history, which he wrote, of all plants,
from the cedar of Libanus to the moss that groweth out of
the wall, and of all things that have life and motion. This
maketh me think that our king, finding himself to symbolize"
in many things with that king of the Hebrews (which lived
many years before him), honored him with the title of
this foundation. And I am rather induced to be of this
opinion, for that I find in ancient records this Order or So-
ciety is sometimes called Salomon's House, and sometimes
the College of the Six Days Works ; whereby I am satisfied
that our excellent king had learned from the Hebrews that
God had created the world and all that therein is within
six days : and therefore he instituting that House for the find-
ing out of the true nature of all things, (whereby God might
have the more glory in the workmanship of them, and men
^ Named after. ** Agree.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 171
the more fruit in the use of them), did give it also that
second name.
" But now to come to our present purpose. When the king
had forbidden to all his people navigation into any part
that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless this
ordinance ; that every twelve years there should be set forth,
out of this kingdom two ships, appointed to several voy-
ages; That in either of these ships there should be a mission
of three of the Fellows or Brethren of Salomon's House;
whose errand was only to give us knowledge of the affairs
and state of those countries to which they were designed,
and especially of the sciences, arts, manufactures, and in-
ventions of all the world ; and withal to bring unto us books,
instruments, and patterns in every kind : That the ships, after
they had landed the brethren, should return; and that the
brethren should stay abroad till the new mission. These
ships are not otherwise fraught, than with store of victuals,
and good quantity of treasure to remain with the brethren,
for the buying of such things and rewarding of such per-
sons as they should think fit. Now for me to tell you how
the vulgar sort of mariners are contained*" from being dis-
covered at land ; and how they that must be put on shore
for any time, color themselves under the names of other
nations ; and to what places these voyages have been de-
signed; and what places of rendezvous are appointed for the
new missions ; and the like circumstances of the practique ; I
may not do it : neither is it much to your desire. But thus you
see we maintain a trade not for gold, silver, or jewels; nor
for silks ; nor for spices ; nor any other commodity of mat-
ter ; but only for God's first creature, which was Light : to
have light (I say) of the growth of" all parts of the world."
And when he had said this, he was silent ; and so were
we all. For indeed we were all astonished to hear so strange
things so probably told. And he, perceiving that we were
willing to say somewhat but had it not ready in great
courtesy took us off, and descended to ask us questions of
our voyage and fortunes and in the end concluded, that we
might do well to think with ourselves what time of stay we
would demand of the state ; and bade us not to scant our-
*" Prevented. " Produced in.
172 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
selves; for he would procure such time as we desired.
Whereupon we all rose up, and presented ourselves*^ to
kiss the skirt of his tippet; but he would not suffer us; and
so took his leave. But when it came once amongst our peo-
ple that the state used to offer conditions to strangers that
would stay, we had work enough to get any of our men to
look to our ship ; and to keep them from going presently to
the governor to crave conditions. But with much ado we
refrained them, till we might agree what course to take.
We took ourselves now for free men, seeing there was
no danger of cur utter perdition ; and lived most joyfully, go-
ing abroad and seeing what was to be seen in the city and
places adjacent within our tedder; and obtaining acquaint-
ance with many of the city, not of the meanest quality; at
whose hands we found such humanity, and such a free-
dom and desire to take strangers as it were into their bosom,
as was enough to make us forget all that was dear to us
in our own countries : and continually we met with many
things right worthy of observation and relation : as indeed,
if there be a mirror in the world worthy to hold men's eyes,
it is that country.
One day there were two of our company bidden to a
Feast of the Family, as they call it. A most natural, pious,
and reverend custom it is, shewing that nation to be com-
pounded of all goodness. This is the manner of it. It is
granted to any man that shall live to see thirty persons
descended of his body alive together, and all above three
years old, to make this feast which is done at the cost of
the state. The Father of the Family, whom they call the
Tirsan, two days before the feast, taketh to him three of
such friends as he liketh to choose ; and is assisted" also by
the governor of the city or place where the feast is cele-
brated ; and all the persons of the family, of both sexes, are
summoned to attend him. These two days the Tirsan sitteth
in consultation concerning the good estate of the family.
There, if there be any discord or suits between any of the
family, they are compounded and appeased. There, if any
of the family be distressed or decayed, order is taken for
their relief and competent means to live. There, if any be
^ Offered. *^ Attended.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 173
subject to vice, or take ill courses, they are reproved and
censured. So likewise direction is given touching mar-
riages, and the courses of life, which any of them should
take, with divers other the like orders and advices. The
governor assisteth, to the end to put in execution by his
public authority the decrees and orders of the Tirsan. if they
should be disobeyed; though that seldom needeth ; such
reverence and obedience they give to the order of nature.
The Tirsan doth also then ever choose one man from
among his sons, to live in house with him; who is called
ever after the Son of the Vine. The reason will here-
after appear.
On the feast day. the father or Tirsan cometh forth
after divine service into a large room where the feast is
celebrated ; which room hath an half-pace" at the upper end.
Against the wall, in the middle of the half-pace, is a chair
placed for him, with a table and carpet before it. Over the
chair is a state.*^ made round or oval, and it is of ivy; an
ivy somewhat whiter than ours, like the leaf of a silver asp,**
but more shining; for it is green all winter. And the state
is curiously wrought with silver and silk of divers colors,
broiding*' or binding in the ivy ; and is ever of the work
of some of the daughters of the family ; and veiled over
at the top with a fine net of silk and silver. But the sub-
stance of it is true ivy; whereof, after it is taken down,
the friends of the family are desirous to have some leaf
or sprig to keep.
The Tirsan cometh forth with all his generation or
linage, the males before him, and the females following
him ; and if there be a mother from whose body the whole
linage is descended, there is a traverse^* placed in a loft
above on the right hand of the chair, with a privy*' door,
and a carved window of glass, leaded with gold and blue;
where she sitteth, but is not seen. When the Tirsan is
come forth, he sitteth down in the chair; and all the linage
place themselves against the wall, both at his back and
upon the return^" of the half-pace, in order of their years
without difference of sex; and stand upon their feet. When
** Dais, platform. •'■ Canopy. " Aspen. *' Interlacing.
** Curtain. ^» Private. ^^ Side.
174 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
he is set; the room being always full of company, but well
kept and without disorder ; after some pause, there cometh
in from the lower end of the room, a taratan (which is as
much as an herald) and on either side of him two young
lads; whereof one carrieth a scroll of their shining yellow
parchment; and the other a cluster of grapes of gold, with
a long foot or stalk. The herald and children are clothed
with mantles of sea-water green satin ; but the herald's
mantle is streamed^^ with gold, and hath a train.
Then the herald with three curtesies, or rather inclina-
tions, cometh up as far as the half-pace; and there first
taketh into his hand the scroll. This scroll is the king's
charter, containing gifts of revenew, and many privileges,
exemptions, and points of honour, granted to the Father of
the Family; and is ever styled and directed, To such an one
our well beloved friend and creditor: which is a title proper
only to this case. For they say the king is debtor to no
man, but for propagation of his subjects. The seal set to
the king's charter is the king's image, imbossed or moulded
in gold; and though such charters be expedited" of course,
and as of right, yet they are varied by discretion, according
to the number and dignity of the family. This charter the
herald readeth aloud; and while it is read, the father or
Tirsan standeth up supported by two of his sons, such as he
chooseth. Then the herald mounteth the half-pace and deliv-
ereth the charter into his hand : and with that there is an ac-
clamation by all that are present in their language, which
is thus much : Happy are the people of Bensalem.
Then the herald taketh into his hand from the other child
the cluster of grapes, which is of gold, both the stalk and
the grapes. But the grapes are daintily enamelled; and
if the males of the family be the greater number, the grapes
are enamelled purple, with a little sun set on the top; if
the females, then they are enamelled into a greenish yellow,
with a crescent on the top. The grapes are in number as
many as there are descendants of the family. This golden
cluster the herald delivereth also to the Tirsan; who presently
delivereth it over to that son that he had formerly chosen to
be in house with him: who beareth it before his father as
^1 Watered. ^- Issued.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 175
an ensign of honour when he goeth in public, ever after ; and
is thereupon called the Son of the Vine.
After the ceremony endeth the father or Tirsan retireth;
and after some time cometh forth again to dinner, where he
sitteth alone under the state, as before ; and none of his de-
scendants sit with him, of what degree or dignity soever,
except he hap to be of Salomon's House. He is served
only by his own children, such as are male ; who perform
unto him all service of the table upon the knee; and the
women only stand about him, leaning against the wall. The
room below the half-pace hath tables on the sides for the
guests that are bidden ; who are served with great and
comely order; and towards the end of dinner (which in the
greatest feasts with them lasteth never above an hour and
an half) there is an hymn sung, varied according to the in-
vention of him that composeth it (for they have excellent
posy) but the subject of it is (always) the praises of Adam
and Noah and Abraham ; whereof the former two peopled the
world, and the last was the Father of the Faithful : concluding
ever with a thanksgiving for the nativity of our Saviour, in
whose birth the births of all are only blessed.
Dinner being done, the Tirsan retireth again; and having
withdrawn himself alone into a place, where he makes some
private prayers, he cometh forth the third time, to give the
blessing with all his descendants, who stand about him
as at the first. Then he calleth them forth by one and by one,
by name, as he pleaseth, though seldom the order of age be
inverted. The person that is called (the table being before
removed) kneeleth down before the chair, and the father
layeth his hand upon his head, or her head, and giveth the
blessing in these words: Son of Bensalcm, (or daughter of
Bcnsalem,) thy father saith it: the man by zvhom thou host
breath and life speaketh the word: the blessing of the ever-
lasting Father, the Prince of Peace, and the Holy Dove, be
upon thee, and make the days of thy pilgrimage good and
many. This he saith to every of them ; and that done, if there
be any of his sons of eminent merit and virtue, (so they
be not above two,) he calleth for them again; and saith,
laying his arm over their shoulders, they standing; Sons,
it is well ye are born, give God the praise, and persevere
176 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
to the end. And withall delivereth to either of them a
jewel, made in the figure^" of an ear of wheat, which they
ever after wear in the front of their turban or hat. This
done, they fall to music and dances, and other recreations,
after their manner, for the rest of the day. This is the full
order of that feast.
By that time six or seven days were spent, I was fallen
into straight acquaintance with a merchant of that city,
whose name was Joabin. He was a Jew and circumcised:
for they have some few stirps^^ of Jews yet remaining among
them, whom they leave to their own religion. Which they
may the better do, because they are of a far differing dis-
position from the Jews in other parts. For whereas they
hate the name of Christ ; and have a secret inbred rancour
against the people among whom they live: these (contrari-
wise) give unto our Saviour many high attributes, and love
the nation of Bensalem extremely. Surely this man of
vi^hom I speak would ever acknowledge that Christ was
born of a virgin and that he was more than a man ; and
he would tell how God made him ruler of the seraphims
which guard his throne; and they call him also the Milken
Way, and the Eliah of the Messiah; and many other high
names; which though they be inferior to his divine majesty,
yet they are far from the language of other Jews.
And for the country of Bensalem, this man would make
no end of commending it; being desirous, by tradition among
the Jews there, to have it believed that the people thereof
were of the generations of Abraham, by another son, whom
they call Nachoran; and that Moses by a secret Cabala
ordained the Laws of Bensalem which they now use ; and
that when the Messiah should come, and sit in his throne
at Hierusalem, the king of Bensalem should sit at his feet,
whereas other kings should keep a great distance. But
yet setting aside these Jewish dreams, the man was a wise
man, and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen
in the laws and customs of that nation.
Amongst other discourses, one day I told him I was much
affected with the relation I had, from some of the com-
pany, of their custom, in holding the Feast of the Family;
^ Shape. ^ Families, stocks.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 177
for that (methought) I had never heard of a solemnity
wherein nature did so much preside. And because propaga-
tion of families proceedeth from the nuptial copulation, I
desired to know of him what laws and customs they had con-
cerning marriage; and whether they kept marriage well and
whether they were tied to one wife; for that wheie popula-
tion is so much affected,^^ and such as with them it seemed
to be, there is commonly permission of plurality of wives.
To this he said, " You have reason for to commend that
excellent institution of the Feast of the Family. And indeed
we have experience that those families that are partakers
of the blessing of that feast do flourish and prosper ever
after in an extraordinary manner. But hear me now, and
I will tell you what I know. You shall understand that
there is not under the heavens so chaste a nation as this
of Bensalem ; nor so free from all pollution or foulness.
It is the virgin of the world. I remember I have read in
one of your European books, of an holy hermit amongst
you that desired to see the Spirit of Fornication; and there
appeared to him a little foul ugly .-Ethiop. But if he had
desired to see the Spirit of Chastity of Bensalem, it would
have appeared to him in the likeness of a fair beautiful
Cherubin. For there is nothing amongst mortal men more
fair and admirable, than the chaste minds of this people.
Know therefore, that with them there are no stews, no dis-
solute houses, no courtesans, nor anything of that kind. Nay
they wonder (with detestation) at you in Europe, which
permit such things. They say ye have put marriage out
of office: for marriage is ordained a remedy for unlawful
concupiscence ; and natural concupiscence seemeth as a
spur to marriage. But when men have at hand a remedy
more agreeable to their corrupt will, marriage is almost
expulsed. And therefore there are with you seen infinite
men that marry not, but chuse rather a libertine and impure
single life, than to be yoked in marriage; and many that do
marry, marry late, when the prime and strength of their
years is past. And when they do marry, what is marriage
to them but a very bargain ; wherein is sought alliance, or
portion, or reputation, with some desire (almost indifferent)
^s Desired.
178 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
of issue ; and not the faithful nuptial union of man and
wife, that was first instituted. Neither is it possible that
those that have cast away so basely so much of their
strength, should greatly esteem children, (being of the same
matter,) as chaste men do. So likewise during marriage,
is the case much amended, as it ought to be if those things
were tolerated only for necessity? No, but they remain
still as a very affront to marriage. The haunting of those
dissolute places, or resort to courtesans, are no more pun-
ished in married men than in bachelors. And the depraved
custom of change, and the delight in meretricious embrace-
ments, (where sin is turned into art.) maketh marriage a
dull thing, and a kind of imposition or tax. They hear you
defend these things, as done to avoid greater evils ; as ad-
voutries.^ deflowering of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like.
But they say this is a preposterous wisdom ; and they call
it Lot's offer, who to save his guests from abusing, offered
his daughters : nay they say farther that there is little gained
in this ; for that the same vices and appetites do still remain
and abound; unlawful lust being like a furnace, that if you
stop the flames altogether, it will quench ; but if you give
it any vent, it will rage. As for masculine love, they have
no touch of it ; and yet there are not so faithful and in-
violate friendships in the world again as are there ; and to
speak generally, (as I said before.) I have not read of any
such chastity, in any people as theirs. And their usual saying
is, That whosoever is unchaste cannot reverence himself; and
they say. That the reverence of a man's self, is, next religion,
the chief est bridle of all vices."
And when he had said this, the good Jew paused a little ;
whereupon I, far more willing to hear him speak on than
to speak myself, yet thinking it decent that upon his pause
of speech I should not be altogether silent, said only this ;
" That I would say to him, as the widow of Sarepta said to
Elias ; that he was come to bring to memory our sins ; and
that I confess the righteousness of Bensalem was greater
than the righteousness of Europe." At which speech he
bowed his head, and went on in this manner :
" They have also many wise and excellent laws touching
^ Adulteries.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 179
marriage. They allow no polygamy. They have ordained
that none do intermarry or contract, until a month be past
from their first interview. INIarriage without consent of
parents they do not make void, but they mulct'" it in the in-
heritors: for the children of such marriages are not admitted
to inherit above a third part of their parents' inheritance.
I have read in a book of one of your men,*' of a Feigned
Commonwealth, where the married couple are permitted, be-
fore they contract, to see one another naked. This they
dislike; for they think it a scorn to give a refusal after so
familiar knowledge : but because of many hidden defects in
men and women's bodies, they have a more civil way; for
they have near every town a couple of pools, (which they
call Adam and Ezr's pools.) where it is permitted to one of
the friends of the men, and another of the friends of the
woman, to see them severally bathe naked."
And as we were thus in conference, there came one that
seemed to be a messenger, in a rich huke.'* that spake with
the Jew : whereupon he turned to me and said ; "You will
pardon me, for I am commanded away in haste." The next
morning he came to me again, joyful as it seemed, and
said ; " There is word come to the Governor of the city, that
one of the Fathers of Salomon's House will be here this
day seven-night : we have seen none of them this dozen
years. His coming is in state; but the cause of his coming
is secret. I will provide you and your fellows of a good
standing to see his entry." I thanked him, and told him, I
was most glad of the news.
The day being come, he made his entry. He was a man
of middle stature and age, comely of person, and had an
aspect as if he pitied men. He was clothed in a robe of fine
black cloth, with wide sleeves and a cape. His under gar-
ment was of excellent white linen down to the foot, girt
with a girdle of the same ; and a sindon or tippet of the
same about his neck. He had gloves, that were curious,"
and set with stone ; and shoes of peach-coloured velvet. His
neck was bare to the shoulders. His hat was like a helmet,
or Spanish montcra ;™ and his locks curled below it decently:
^Penalize. 67 More's Utopia. 68 \ cape with a hood. 63 Qf elaborate
design. ^o .\ cap with a round crown and flaps.
180 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
they were of colour brown. His beard was cut round, and
of the same colour with his hair, somewhat lighter. He was
carried in a rich chariot without wheels, litter-wise; with
two horses at either end, richly trapped in blue velvet em-
broidered ; and two footmen on each side in the like attire.
The chariot was all of cedar, gilt, and adorned with crystal;
save that the fore-end had panels of sapphires, set in borders
of gold; and the hinder-end the like of emeralds of the
Peru colour. There was also a sun of gold, radiant, upon
the top, in the midst; and on the top before, a small cherub
of gold, with wings displayed.*^ The chariot was covered
with cloth of gold tissued upon blue. He had before him
fifty attendants, young men all, in white satin loose coats
to the mid leg; and stockings of white silk; and shoes of
blue velvet ; and hats of blue velvet ; with fine plumes of
diverse colours, set round like hat-bands. Next before the
chariot, went two men. bare-headed, in linen garments down
the foot, girt, and shoes of blue velvet ; who carried, the one
a crosier, the other a pastoral staff like a sheep-hook;
neither of them of metal, but the crosier of balm-wood,*"
the pastoral staff of cedar. Horsemen he had none, neither
before nor behind his chariot: as it seemeth, to avoid all
tumult and trouble. Behind his chariot went all the officers
and principals of the companies of the city. He sat alone,
upon cushions of a kind of excellent plush, blue; and under
his foot curious carpets of silk of diverse colours, like the
Persian, but far finer. He held up his bare hand as he went,
as blessing the people, but in silence. The street was won-
derfully well kept: so that there was never any army had
their men stand in better battle-array than the people stood.
The windows likewise were not crowded, but every one stood
in them as if they had been placed.
When the shew was past, the Jew said to me ; " I shall not
be able to attend you as I would, in regard of some charge
the city hath laid upon me, for the entertaining of this great
person." Three days after the Jew came to me again, and
said; " Ye are happy men ; for the Father of Salomon's House
taketh knowledge of your being here, and commanded me
to tell you that he will admit all your company to his
*i Spread. *' Balsam.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 181
presence, and have private conference with one of you,
that ye shall choose : and for this hath appointed the next day
after to-morrow. And because he meaneth to give you his
blessing, he hath appointed it in the forenoon.
We came at our day and hour, and I was chosen by my
fellows for the private access. We found him in a fair
chamber, richly hanged, and carpeted under foot, without any
degrees** to the state**. He was set upon a low Throne richly
adorned, and a rich cloth of state® over his head, of blue
satin embroidered. He was alone, save that he had two
pages of honour, on either hand one, finely attired in white.
His under garments were the like that we saw him wear in
the chariot; but instead of his gown, he had on him a
mantle with a cape, of the same fine black, fastened about
him. When we came in, as we were taught, we bowed low
at our first entrance ; and when we were come near his chair,
he stood up, holding forth his hand ungloved, and in posture
of blessing; and we every one of us stooped down, and kissed
the hem of his tippet. That done, the rest departed, and I
remained. Then he warned** the pages forth of the room,
and caused me to sit down beside him, and spake to me thus
in the Spanish tongue.
" God bless thee, my son ; I will give thee the greatest jewel
I have. For I will impart unto thee, for the love of God
and men, a relation of the true state of Salomon's House.
Son, to make you know the true state of Salomon's House,
I will keep this order. First, I will set forth unto you the
end of our foundation. Secondly, the preparations and in-
struments we have for our works. Thirdly, the several
employments and functions whereto our fellows are assigned.
And fourthly, the ordinances and rites which we observe.
" The end of our foundation is the knowledge of causes,
and secret motions of things ; and the enlarging of the bounds
of human empire, to the effecting of all things possible.
" The Preparations and Instruments are these. We have
large and deep caves of several depths: the deepest are sunk
six hundred fathom : and some of them are digged and made
under great hills and mountains: so that if you reckon to-
gether the depth of the hill and the depth of the cave,
»» Steps. «« Throne. «5 Canopy. «» Ordered.
182 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
they are (some of them) above three miles deep. For \vc
find, that the depth of a hill, and the depth of a cave from the
flat, is the same thing; both remote alike, from the sun and
heaven's beams, and from the open air. These caves we
call the Lower Region ; and we use them for all coagulations,
indurations, refrigerations, and conservations"' of bodies. We.
use them likewise for the imitation of natural mines; and
the producing also of new artificial metals, by compositions
and materials which we use, and lay there for many years.
Wc use them also sometimes, (which may seem strange.) for
curing of some diseases, and for prolongation of life in
some hermits that choose to live there, well accommodated
of all things necessary, and indeed live very long; by whom
also we learn many things.
" We have burials in several earths, where we put diverse
cements, as the Chineses do their porcellain. But we have
them in greater variety, and some of them more fine. We
have also great variety of composts,'* and soils, for the mak-
ing of the earth fruitful.
" We have high towers ; the highest about half a mile in
height; and some of them likewise set upon high mountains;
so that the vantage of the hill with the tower is in the highest
of them three miles at least. And these places we call the
Upper Region ; accounting the air between the high places and
the low, as a Middle Region. We use these towers, according
to their several heights, and situations, for insolation,*' re-
frigeration, conservation ; and for the view of divers meteors ;
as winds, rain, snow, hail ; and some of the fiery meteors also.
And upon them, in some places, are dwellings of hermits,
whom we visit sometimes, and instruct what to observe.
"We have great lakes, both salt, and fresh; whereof we
have use for the fish and fowl. We use them also for burials
of some natural bodies: for wc find a difference in things
buried in earth or in air below the earth, and things buried
in water. We have also pools, of which some do strain
fresh water out of salt ; and others by art do turn fresh water
into salt. We have also some rocks in the midst of the sea,
and some bays upon the shore for some works, wherein is
•■f Experiments in thickening, liardening, freezing, and preserving.
"Manures. ** Exposing to the action of the sun.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 183
required the air and vapor of the sea. We have likewise
violent streams and cataracts, which serve us for many
motions :'" and likewise engines'" for multiplying and enforc-
ing of winds, to set also on going diverse motions.
" We have also a number of artificial wells and fountains,
made in imitation of the natural sources and baths ; as tincted
upon'' vitriol, sulphur, steel, brass, lead, nitre, and other min-
erals. And again we have little wells for infusions of many
things, where the waters take the virtue quicker and better,
than in vessels or basins. And amongst them we have a
water which we call Water of Paradise, being, by that we
do to it made very sovereign for health, and prolongation of
life.
" We have also great and spacious houses where we imitate
and demonstrate meteors ; as snow, hail, rain, some artificial
rains of bodies and not of water, thunders, lightnings; also
generations of bodies in air; as frogs, flies, and divers others.
"We have also certain chambers, which we call Chambers of
Health, where we qualify the air as we think good and proper
for the cure of divers diseases, and preservation of health.
" We have also fair and large baths, of several mixtures, for
the cure of diseases, and the restoring of man's body from
arefaction :" and others for the confirming of it in strength
of sinewes, vital parts, and the very juice and substance of
the body.
"We have also large and various orchards and gardens;
wherein we do not so much respect beauty, as variety of
ground and soil, proper for divers trees and herbs : and
some very spacious, where trees and berries are set whereof
we make divers kinds of drinks, besides the vineyards. In
these we practise likewise all conclusions^' of grafting, and
inoculating" as well of wild-trees as fruit-trees, which
produceth many effects. And we make (by art) in the same
orchards and gardens, trees and flowers to come earlier or
later than their seasons : and to come up and bear more
speedily than by theii natural course they do. We make
them also by art greater much than their nature; and their
fruit greater and sweeter and of differing taste, smell, colour,
'"Machines. "Tinctured with. "Drying up.
"* Experiments. ■* iiudcJing.
184 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
and figure, from their nature. And many of them we so
order, as they become of medicinal use.
" We have also means to make divers plants rise by mix-
tures of earths without seeds; and likewise to make divers
new plants, differing from the vulgar ; and to make one tree
or plant turn into another.
" We have also parks and enclosures of all sorts of beasts
and birds which we use not only for view or rareness, but
likewise for dissections and trials; that thereby we may
take light what may be wrought upon the body of man.
Wherein we find many strange effects ; as continuing life
in them, though divers parts, which you account vital, be
perished and taken forth ; resuscitating of some that seem
dead in appearance; and the like. We try also all poisons
and other medicines upon them, as well of chirurgery,'' as
physic. By art likewise, we make them greater or taller
than their kind"'^ is ; and contrariwise dwarf them, and stay
their growth : we make them more fruitful and bearing than
their kind is : and contrariwise barren and not generative.
Also we make them differ in colour, shape, activity, many ways.
We find means to make commixtures and copulations of dif-
ferent kinds ; which have produced many new kinds, and them
not barren, as the general opinion is. We make a number
of kinds of serpents, worms, flies, fishes, of putrefaction;
whereof some are advanced (in effect) to be perfect crea-
tures, like beasts or birds ; and have sexes, and do propagate.
Neither do we this by chance, but we know beforehand, of
what matter and commixture what kind of those creatures
will arise.
" We have also particular pools, where we make trials upon
fishes, as we have said before of beasts and birds.
" We have also places for breed and generation of those
kinds of worms and flies which are of special use ; such as
are with you your silk-worms and bees.
" I will not hold you long with recounting of our brew-
houses, bake-houses, and kitchens, where are made divers
drinks, breads, and meats, rare and of special effects. Wines
we have of grapes; and drinks of other juice of fruits, of
grains, and of roots; and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna,
'5 Surgery. '" Species.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 185
and fruits dried, and decocted ;" Also of the tears or wound-
ings of trees ; and of the pulp of canes. And these drinks are
of several ages, some to the age or last of forty years. We
have drinks also brewed with several herbs, and roots, and
spices; yea with several fleshes, and white-meats; whereof
some of the drinks are such, as they are in effect meat and
drink both : so that divers, especially in age, do desire to
live with them, with little or no meat or bread. And above
all, we strive to have drink of extreme thin parts, to insinuate'*
into the body, and yet without all biting, sharpness, or fret-
ting; insomuch as some of them put upon the back of
your hand will, with a little stay," pass through to the palm,
and yet taste mild to the mouth. We have also waters
which we ripen in that fashion, as they become nourishing;
so that they are indeed excellent drink; and many will use
no other. Breads we have of several grains, roots, and
kernels; yea and some of flesh and fish dried; with divers
kinds of leavenings and seasonings : so that some do ex-
tremely move appetites ; some do nourish so, as divers do
live of them, without any other meat ; who live very long.
So for meats, we have some of them so beaten and made ten-
der and mortified,*" yet without all corrupting, as a weak
heat of the stomach will turn them into good chylus ;" as
well as a strong heat would meat otherwise prepared. We
have some meats also and breads and drinks, which taken
by men enable them to fast long after ; and some other,
that used make the very flesh of men's bodies sensibly*^
more hard and tough and their strength far greater than
otherwise it would be.
" We have dispensatories, or shops of medicines. Wherein
you may easily think, if we have such variet}'^ of plants and
living creatures more than you have in Europe, (for we know
what you have,) the simples, drugs, and ingredients of
medicines, must likewise be in so much the greater variety.
We have them likewise of divers ages, and long fermen-
tations. And for their preparations, we have not only all
manner of exquisite distillations and separations, and es-
pecially by gentle heats and percolations through divers
" Boiled down. ''^ Creep or wind. " Delay. '" Made tender.
*i Chyle. *- Perceptibly to the touch.
186 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
strainers, yea and substances : but also exact forms'* of com-
position, whereby they incorporate ahnost. as they were
natural simples.
" We have also di^'ers mechanical arts, which you have
not; and stuffs made by them; as papers, linen, silks, tissues;
dainty works of feathers of wonderful lustre; excellent dies,
and many others : and shops likewise, as well for such as
are not brought into vulgar use amongst us as for those
that are. For you must know that of the things before re-
cited, many of them are grown into use throughout the
kingdom ; but yet, if they did flow from our invention, we
have of them also for patterns and principals.**
" We have also furnaces of great diversities, and that
keep great diversity of heats ; fierce and quick ; strong and
constant; soft and mild; blown, quiet; dry, moist; and the
hke. But above all, we have heats, in imitation of the Sun's
and heavenly bodies" heats, that pass divers inequalities,
and (as it were) orbs,*^ progresses, and returns, whereby we
produce admirable effects. Besides, we have heats of dungs ;
and of bellies and maws of living creatures, and of their
bloods and bodies; and of hays and herbs laid up moist; of
lime unquenched; and such like. Instruments also which
generate heat only by motion. And farther, places for strong
insolations;** and again, places under the earth, which by
nature, or art, yield heat. These divers heats we use, as
the nature of the operation, which we intend, requireth.
" We have also perspective-houses,'"' where we make dem-
onstrations of all lights and radiations ; and of all colours :
and out of things uncoloured and transparent, we can repre-
sent unto you all several colours; not in rain-bows, (as it is
in gems, and prisms,) but of themselves single. We repre-
sent also all multiplications^ of light, which we carry to great
distance, and make so sharp as to discern small points
and lines. Also all colourations of light ; all delusions and
deceits of the sight, in figures, magnitudes, motions, colours:
all demonstrations of shadows. We find also divers means,
yet unknown to you, of producing of light originally** from
divers bodies. We procure means of seeing objects afar
** Formulas. *• Models. '*■'' Orbits. ** Exposure to the sun.
*" Places for optical experiments. » Intensifications. =* Spontaneously.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 187
off; as in the heaven and remote places; and represent
things near as afar off; and things afar off as near; making
feigned distances. We have also helps for the sight, far
above spectacles and glasses in use. We have also glasses
and means to see small and minute bodies perfectly and
distinctly ; as the shapes and colours of small flies and worms,
grains and flaws in gems, which cannot otherwise be seen,
observations in urine and blood not otherwise to be seen.
We make artificial rain-bows, halo's, and circles about light.
We represent also all manner of reflexions, refractions, and
multiplications^* of visual beams of objects.
" We have also precious stones of all kinds, many of them
of great beauty, and to you unknown ; crystals likewise ; and
glasses of divers kinds; and amongst them some of metals
vitrificated,^" and other materials besides those of which
you make glass. Also a number of fossils, and imperfect
minerals, which you have not. Likewise loadstones of pro-
digious virtue; and other rare stones, both natural and
artificial.
" We have also sound-houses, where we practise and dem-
onstrate all sounds, and their generation. We have har-
monies which you have not, of quarter-sounds, and lesser
slides" of sounds. Divers instruments of music likewise to
you unknown, some sweeter than any you have; together
with bells and rings that are dainty and sweet. We repre-
sent small sounds as great and deep; likewise great sounds
extenuate''" and sharp; we make divers tremblings and
warblings of sounds, \vhich in their original'* are entire. We
represent and imitate all articulate sounds and letters, and
the voices and notes of beasts and birds. We have certain
helps which set to the ear do further the hearing greatly.
We have also divers strange and artificial echoes, reflecting
the voice many times, and as it were tossing it: and some
that give back the voice louder than it came, some shriller,
and some deeper; yea, some rendering the voice differing in
the letters or articulate sound from that they receive. We
have also means to convey sounds in trunks and pipes, in
strange lines and distances.
" We have also perfume-houses ; wherewith we join also
"Intensifications. ""Turned into glass. •* Fine shades. •''Thin. "Origin.
188 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
practices of taste. We multiply smells, which may seem
strange. We imitate smells, making all smells to breathe out
of other mixtures than those that give them. We make di-
vers imitations of taste likewise, so that they will deceive
any man's taste. And in this house we contain" also a
confiture-house; where we make all sweet-meats, dry and
moist; and divers pleasant wines, milks, broths, and sallets;
in far greater variety than you have.
" We have also engine-houses, where are prepared engines
and instruments for all sorts of motions. There we imitate
and practise to make swifter motions than any you have,
either out of your muskets or any engine that you have:
and to make them and multiply them more easily, and with
small force, by wheels and other means : and to make them
stronger and more violent than yours are; exceeding your
greatest cannons and basilisks.^ We represent also ord-
nance and instruments of war, and engines of all kinds : and
likewise new mixtures and compositions of gun-powder,
wild-fires burning in water, and unquenchable. Also fire-
works of all variety both for pleasure and use. We imitate
also flights of birds ; we have some degrees of flying in the
air. We have ships and boats for going under water, and
brooking** of seas; also swimming-girdles and supporters.
We have divers curious clocks, and other like motions of
return: and some perpetual motions. We imitate also mo-
tions of living creatures, by images, of men, beasts, birds,
fishes, and serpents. We have also a great number of other
various motions, strange for equality, fineness, and subtilty.
" We have also a mathematical house, where are repre-
sented all instruments, as well of geometry as astronomy,
exquisitely made.
" We have also houses of deceits of the senses ; where we
represent all manner of feats of juggling, false apparitions,
impostures, and illusions ; and their fallacies.*^ And surely
you will easily believe that we that have so many things
truly natural which induce admiration,"* could in a world of
particulars deceive the senses, if we would disguise those
things and labour to make them seem more miraculous. But
•* Include. "^ A kind of cannon. *« Withstanding. " Exposures.
"8 Wonder.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 189
we do hate all impostures, and lies ; insomuch as we have
severely forbidden it to all our fellows, under pain of
ignominy and fines, that they do not shew any natural work
or thing, adorned or swelling; but only pure as it is, and
without all affectation of strangeness.
" These are (my son) the riches of Salomon's House.
"For the several employments and offices of our fellows;
we have twelve that sail into foreign countries, under the
names of other nations, (for our own we conceal) ; who
bring us the books, and abstracts, and patterns of experi-
ments of all other parts. These we call Merchants of Light.
" We have three that collect the experiments which are in
all books. These we call Depredators.""
" We have three that collect the experiments of all me-
chanical arts; and also of liberal sciences; and also of
practices which are not brought into arts. These we call
Mystery-men."'"
" We have three that try new experiments, such as them-
selves think good. These we call Pioners or Miners.
" We have three that draw the experiments of the former
four into titles and tables, to give the better light for the
drawing of observations and axioms out of them. These we
call Compilers.
" We have three that bend themselves, looking into the
experiments of their fellows, and cast about how to draw
out of them things of use and practise for man's life, and
knowledge, as well for works as for plain demonstration
of causes, means of natural divinations, and the easy and
clear discovery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These
we call Dowry-men"^ or Benefactors.
"Then after divers meetings and consults of our whole
number, to consider of the former labours and collections,
we have three that take care, out of them, to direct new
experiments, of a higher light, more penetrating into nature
than the former. These we call Lamps.
" We have three others that do execute the experiments so
directed, and report them. These we call Inoculators.
" Lastly, we have three that raise the former discoveries
** Pillagers. '""Craftsmen. ^"' Endowment men.
190 A FABLE OF FRANCIS BACON
l\v experiments into greater observations, axioms, and
aphorisms. These we call Interpreters of Nature.
" We have also, as you must think, novices and apprentices,
that the succession of the former employed men do not fail ;
besides, a great number of servants and attendants, men and
women. And this we do also : we have consultations, which
of the inventions and experiences which we have discov-
ered shall be published, and which not : and take all an oath
of secrecy, for the concealing of those which we think fit to
keep secret : though some of those we do reveal sometimes to
the state and some not.
" For our ordinances and rites : we have two very long and
fair galleries : in one of these we place patterns and sam-
ples of all manner of the more rare and excellent inventions :
in the other we place the statuas of all principal inventors.
There we have the statua of your Columbus, that discovered
the West Indies : also the inventor of ships : your monk that
was the inventor of ordnance and of gunpowder : the inven-
tor of music : the inventor of letters : the inventor of print-
ing: the inventor of observations of astronomy: the inventor
of works in metal : the inventor of glass : the inventor of silk
of the worm : the inventor of wine : the inventor of corn and
bread : the inventor of sugars : and all these, by more certain
tradition than you have. Then have we divers inventors
of our own, of excellent works ; which since you have not
seen, it were too long to make descriptions of them; and
besides, in the right understanding of those descriptions you
might easily err. For upon every invention of value, we
erect a statua to the inventor, and give him a liberal and
honourable reward. These statuas are some of brass ; some
of marble and touch-stone ;^°" some of cedar and other special
woods, gilt and adorned; some of iron; some of silver; some
of gold.
" We have certain hymns and services, which we say daily,
of Lord and thanks to God for his marvellous works : and
forms of prayers, imploring his aid and blessing for the
illumination of our labours, and the turning of them into
good and holy uses.
10= A variety of jasper.
THE NEW ATLANTIS 191
"Lastly, we have circuits or visits of divers principal cities
of the kingdom ; where, as it cometh to pass, we do publish
such new profitable inventions as we think good. And we
do also declare natural divinations of diseases, plagues,
swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests, earthquakes,
great inundations, comets, temperature of the year, and di-
vers other things ; and we give counsel thereupon, what the
people shall do for the prevention and remedy of them."
And when he had said this, he stood up; and I, as I had
been taught, kneeled down, and he laid his right hand upon
my head, and said ; " God bless thee, my son ; and God bless
this relation, which I have made. I give thee leave to pub-
lish it for the good of other nations; for we here are in
God's bosom, a land unknown." And so he left me; having
assigned a value of about two thousand ducats, for a bounty
to me and my fellows. For they give great largesses where
they come upon all occasions.
[The rest zcas not perfected.}
AREOPAGITICA
A SPEECH
FOR THE LIBERTY OF UNLICENSED PRINTING TO THE
PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND
BY
JOHN MILTON
TeAev0epov S'tKelvo, ii Tts BeKei ttoAci
XpTjcroi' Ti PovXev/i' eis iJ.eTOV (jtepeiv, fxiay.
Koi TavB' 6 xprf4'^''i Aa/ijrpbs €r0', 6 firi 6e\iav,
2iy?, Ti TOVTWV eo'tv traiTepo>' irdAei ;
Euripid. Hicetid.
This is true Liberty when free born men
Having to advise the public may speak free.
Which he who can, and will, deservs high praise.
Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace,
What can bejuster in a State than this ?
Euripid. Hicetid.
HCIII
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The name of Milton's speech on the freedom of the press was
imitated from that of the "Logos Areopagiticos" of the Athenian
orator Isocratcs {436-338 B. C.) , which was also a speech meant
to be read, not heard. The oration of Isocratcs aimed at re-
establishing the old democracy of Athens by restoring the Court
of the Areopagus, whence the work derived its title.
During the ascendency of Laud in the Church of England, his
instrument, the Court of the Star-Chamber, had reenacted, more
oppressively than ever, some of the restrictions imposed during
the reign of Elisabeth on the printing of books. These restric-
tions disappeared with the abolition of the Star-Chamber in 1641,
but very soon the Presbyterian majority in the Long Parliament
began to pass orders framed with a view to enable them to sup-
press publications voicing the political and religious views of
their opponents. Finally the Order of June, 1643, reproduced
here, roused Milton to protest, and he issued his famous plea for
unlicensed printing in the following year. As will be seen from
the speech itself, he did his best to conciliate the Parliament by
making cordial acknowledgment of its services to the cause of
liberty, and he sought to persuade them to reverse their action
by pointing out its inconsistency with these services. But it does
not appear that it produced any immediate effect. While the
Independents under Cromwell had the upper hand, the licensing
lazvs were, indeed, very slackly enforced; but zvith the Restora-
tion came the reenactment of most of the provisions of the Star-
Chamber Decree. After being renewed several times for terms
of years, they finally were allowed to lapse in 1694, and later
attempts to renew them were unsuccessful.
But the importance of Milton's pamphlet is not to be measured
by its effect on the political situation which was its immediate
occasion. In his enthusiasm for liberty, the master passion of
his life, he rose far above the politics of the hour; and the
"Areopagitica" holds its supremacy among his prose zvritings by
virtue of its appeal to fundamental principles, and its triumphant
assertion of the faith that all that truth needs to assure its victory
over error is a fair field and no favor.
ORDER
OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT
FOR THE REGULATING OF PRINTING, 14 JUNE, 1643
BEING THE OCCASION OF
MILTON'S AREOPAGITICA
Whereas divers good Orders have bin lately made by both
Houses of Parliament, for suppressing the great late abuses and
frequent disorders in Printing many, false forged, scandalous,
seditious, libellous, and unlicensed Papers, Pamphlets, and
Books to the great defamation of Religion and government.
Which orders (notwithstanding the diligence of the Company
of Stationers, to put them in full execution) have taken little
or no effect : By reason the bill in preparation, for redresse of
the said disorders, hath hitherto bin retarded through the
present distractions, and very many, aswell Stationers and
Printers, as others of sundry other professions not free of the
Stationers Company, have taken upon them to set up sundry
private Printing Presses in corners, and to print, vend, publish
and disperse Books, pamphlets and papers, in such multitudes,
that no industry could be sufficient to discover or bring to pun-
ishment, all the severall abounding delinquents ; And by reason
that divers of the Stationers Company and others being Delin-
quents (contrary to former orders and the constant custome
used among the said Company) have taken liberty to Print, Vend,
and publish, the most profitable vendible Copies of Books, be-
longing to the Company and other Stationers, especially of such
Agents as are imployed in putting the said Orders in Execution,
and that by way of revenge for giveing information against them
to the Houses for their Delinquences in Printing, to the great
prejudice of the said Company of Stationers and Agents, and to
their discouragement in this publik service.
195
196 A SPEECH
It is therefore Ordered by the Lords and Commons in Parlia-
ment, That no Order or Declaration of both, or either House of
Parliament shall be printed by an)^ but by order of one or
both the said Houses : Nor other Book, Pamphlet, paper, nor
part of any such Book, Pamphlet, or paper, shall from henceforth
be printed, bound, stitched or put to sale by any person or
persons whatsoever, unlesse the same be first approved of and
licensed under the hands of such person or persons as both, or
either of the said Houses shall appoint for the licensing of the
same, and entred in the Register Book of the Company of
Stationers, according to Ancient custom, and the Printer thereof
to put his name thereto. And that no person or persons shall
hereafter print, or cause to be reprinted any Book or Books, or
part of Book, or Books heretofore allowed of and granted to the
said Company of Stationers for their relief and maintenance of
their poore, without the licence or consent of the Master, War-
dens and Assistants of the said Company; Nor any Book or
Books lawfully licenced and entred in the Register of the said
Company for any particular member thereof, without the licence
and consent of the owner or owners thereof. Nor yet import
any such Book or Books, or part of Book or Books formerly
Printed here, from beyond the Seas, upon paine of forfeiting
the same to the Owner, or Owners of the Copies of the said
Books, and such further punishment as shall be thought fit.
And the Master and Wardens of the said Company, the Gen-
tleman Usher of the House of Peers, the Sergeant of the Com-
mons House and their deputies, together with the persons for-
merly appointed by the Committee of the House of Commons
for Examinations, are hereby Authorized and required, from
time to time, to make diligent search in all places, where they
shall think meete, for all unlicensed Printing Presses, and all
Presses any way imployed in the printing of scandalous or un-
licensed Papers, Pamphlets, Books, or any Copies of Books
belonging to the said Company, or any member thereof, without
their approbation and consents, and to seize and carry away
such Printing Presses Letters, together with the Nut, Spindle,
and other materialls of every such irregular Printer, which they
find so misimployed, unto the Common Hall of the said Com-
pany, there to be defaced and made unserviceable according to
Ancient Custom; And likewise to make diligent search in all
ORDER OF THE LONG PARLIAMENT 197
suspected Printing-houses, Ware-houses, Shops and other places
for such scandalous and unlicensed Books, papers, Pamphlets,
and all other Books, not entred, nor signed with the Printers
name as aforesaid, being printed, or reprinted by such as have
no lawfull interest in them, or any way contrary to this Order,
and the same to seize and carry away to the said common hall,
there to remain till both or either House of Parliament shall
dispose thereof, And likewise to apprehend all Authors, Printers,
and other persons whatsoever imployed in compiling, printing,
stitching, binding, publishing and dispersing of the said scandalous,
unlicensed, and unwarrantable papers, books and pamphlets as
aforesaid, and all those who shall resist the said Parties in
searching after them, and to bring them afore either of the Houses
or the Committee of Examinations, that so they may receive such
further punishments, as their Offences shall demerit, and not
to be released untill they have given satisfaction to the Parties
imployed in their apprehension for their paines and charges, and
given sufficient caution not to offend in like sort for the future.
And all Justices of the Peace, Captaines, Constables and other
officers, are hereby ordered and required to be aiding, and
assisting to the foresaid persons in the due execution of all,
and singular the premisses and in the apprehension of all
Offenders against the same. And in case of opposition to break
open the Doores and Locks.
And it further ordered, that this Order be forthwith Printed
and Published, to the end that notice may be taken thereof, and
all Contemners of it left inexcusable.
AREOPAGITICA
A SPEECH
FOR THE LIBERTY OF UNLICENSED PRINTING
THEY who to States and Governors of the Common-
wealth direct their speech, High Court of Parhament,
or wanting such access in a private condition, write
that which they foresee may advance the pubHc good ; I sup-
pose them as at the beginning of no mean endeavor, not a
little altered' and moved inwardly in their minds : Some with
doubt of what will be the success," others with fear of what
will be the censure," some with hope, others with confidence
of what they have to speak. And me perhaps each of these
dispositions, as the subject was whereon I entered, may have
at other times variously affected ; and likely might in these
foremost expressions now also disclose which of them swayed
most, but that the very attempt of this address thus made,
and the thought of whom it hath recourse to, hath got the
power within me to a passion,* far more welcome than inci-
dental^ to a preface. Which though I stay not to confess
ere any ask, I shall be blameless, if it be no other, than the
joy and gratulation which it brings to all who wish and pro-
mote their country's liberty ; whereof this whole discourse
proposed will be a certain testimony, if not a trophy. For
this is not the liberty which we can hope, that no grievance
ever should arise in the commonwealth, that let no man in
this world expect ; but when complaints are freely heard,
deeply considered, and speedily reformed, then is the utmost
bound of civil liberty attained, that wise men look for. To
which if I now manifest by the very sound of this which I
shall utter, that we are already in good part arrived, and yet
^Troubled. 'Issue. 'Judgment. * Enthusiasm. ^ Appropriate.
199
200 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
from such a steep disadvantage of tyranny and superstition
grounded into our principles as was beyond the manhood of
a Roman recovery," it will be attributed first, as is most due,
to the strong assistance of God our deliverer, next to your
faithful guidance and undaunted wisdom, Lords and Com-
mons of England. Neither is it in God's esteem the diminu-
tion of his glory, when honorable things are spoken of good
men and worthy magistrates ; which if I now first should
begin to do, after so fair a progress of your laudable deeds,
and such a long obligement upon the whole realm to your
indefatigable virtues, I might be justly reckoned among the
tardiest, and the unwillingest of them that praise ye. Never-
theless there being three principal things, without which all
praising is but courtship" and flattery; first, when that only
is praised which is solidly worth praise : next, when greatest
likelihoods are brought that such things are truly and really
in those persons to whom they are ascribed, the other, when
he who praises, by showing that such his actual persuasion
is of whom he writes, can demonstrate that he flatters not:
the former two of these I have heretofore endeavored, rescu-
ing the employment from him who went about to impair your
merits with a trivial and malignant Encomium f the latter as
belonging chiefly to mine own acquittal, that whom I so ex-
tolled I did not flatter, hath been reserved opportunely to this
occasion. For he who freely magnifies what hath been nobly
done, and fears not to declare as freely what might be done
better, gives you the best covenant of his fidelity ; and that
his loyalest affection and his hope waits on your proceedings.
His highest praising is not flattery, and his plainest advice is
a kind of praising; for though I should affirm and hold by
argument, that it would fare better with truth, with learning,
and the commonwealth, if one of your published orders which
I should name, were called in, yet at the same time it could
not but much redound to the luster of your mild and equal
government, when as private persons are hereby animated to
think ye better pleased with pubHc advice, than other statists"
have been delighted heretofore with public flatter}\ And
• /. e., after the decline of the empire. '' Courtiership. ® Bishop Hall
had damned the Parliament with faint praise. * Statesmen.
AREOPAGITICA 201
men will then see what difference there is between the mag-
nanimity of a triennial parliament, and that jealous haughti-
ness of prelates and cabin counselors that usurped of late,
when as they shall observe ye in the midst of your victories
and successes more gently brooking written exceptions
against a voted order, than other courts, which had produced
nothing worth memory but the weak ostentation of wealth,
would have endured the least signified dislike at any sudden
proclamation. If I should thus far presume upon the meek
demeanor of your civil and gentle greatness. Lords and Com-
mons, as what your published order hath directly said, that
to gainsay, I might defend myself with ease, if any should
accuse me of being new or insolent, did they but know how
much better I find you esteem it to imitate the old and ele-
gant humanity of Greece, than the barbaric pride of a Hiin-
nish and Norwegian stateliness. And out of those ages, to
whose polite wisdom and letters we owe that we are not
yet Goths and Jutlanders, I could name him'° who from his
private house wrote that discourse to the parliament of
Athens, that persuades them to change the form of Democ-
racy which was then established. Such honor was done in
those days to men who professed the study of wisdom and
eloquence, not only in their own country, but in other lands,
that cities and seigniories heard them gladly, and with great
respect, if they had ought in public to admonish the state.
Thus did Dion Prusccus a stranger and a private orator
counsel the Rhodians against a former edict: and I abound
with other like examples, which to set here would be super-
fluous. But if from the industry of a life wholly dedicated
to studious labors, and those natural endowments happily
not the worst for two and fifty degrees of northern latitude,
so much must be derogated.'' as to count me not equal to any
of those who had this privilege, I would obtain to be thought
not so inferior, as yourselves are superior to the most of
them who received their counsel : and how far you excel
them, be assured. Lords and Commons, there can no greater
testimony appear, than when your prudent spirit acknowl-
edges and obeys the voice of reason from what quarter so-
ever it be heard speaking; and renders ye as willing to
1" Isocrates. " Subtracted.
202 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
repeal any act of your own setting forth, as any set fortk
by your predecessors.
If ye be thus resolved, as it were injury to think ye were
not, I know not what should withhold me from presenting ye
with a fit instance wherein to show both that love of truth
which ye eminently profess, and that uprightness of your
judgment which is not wont to be partial to yourselves; by
judging over again that order which ye have ordained to
regulate printing. That no book, pamphlet, or paper shall
be henceforth printed, unless the same be first approved and
licensed by such, or at least one of such as shall be thereto
appointed. For that part which preserves justly every man's
copy" to himself, or provides for the poor, I touch not, only
wish they be not made pretenses to abuse and persecute hon-
est and painful men, who offend not in either of these par-
ticulars. But that other clause of licensing books, which we
thought had died with his brother quadragesimal^^ and matri-
monial^ when the prelates expired, I shall now attend with
such a homily, as shall lay before you, first the inventors of
it to be those whom you will be loath to own ; next what is
to be thought in general of reading, what ever sort the books
be; and that this order avails nothing to the suppressing of
scandalous, seditious, and libelous books, which were mainly
intended to be suppressed. Last, that it will be primely to
the discouragement of all learning, and the stop of truth,
not only by the disexercising and blunting our abilities in
what we know already, but by hindering and cropping the
discovery that might be yet further made both in religious
and civil wisdom.
I deny not, but that it is of greatest concernment in the
church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books
demean themselves as well as men ; and thereafter to confine,
imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors:
for books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a
potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose
progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the
purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that
bred them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously pro-
" Copyright. " Regulations of the Episcopal Church relating to
Lent and Marriage.
AREOPAGITICA 203
ductive, as those fabulous dragons teeth; and being sown up
and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet on
the other hand unless wariness be used, as good almost kill
a man as kill a good book ; who kills a man kills a reasonable
creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book,
kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the
eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth : but a good
book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalmed
and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true,
no age can restore a life, whereof perhaps there is no great
loss ; and revolutions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a
rejected truth, for the want of which whole nations fare the
worse. We should be wary therefore what persecution we
raise against the living labors of public men, how we spill"
that seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books;
since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed,
sometimes a martyrdom, and if it extend to the whole im-
pression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends
not in the slaying of an elementaP life, but strikes at that
ethereal and fifth essence.^® the breath of reason itself, slays
an immortality rather than a life. But lest I should be con-
demned of introducing license, while I oppose licensing, I
refuse not the pains to be so much historical, as will serve
to show what has been done by ancient and famous com-
monwealths, against this disorder, till the very time that this
project of licensing crept out of the Inquisition, was caught
up by our prelates, and hath caught some of our presbyters.
In Athens where books and wits were ever busier than in
any other part of Greece, I find but only two sorts of writ-
ings which the magistrate cared to take notice of; those
either blasphemous and atheistical, or libelous. Thus the
books of Protagoras were by the judges of Areopagus com-
manded to be burnt, and himself banished the territory for a
discourse begun with his confessing not to know whether
there were gods, or zvhether not: And against defaming, it
was decreed that none should be traduced by name, as was
the manner of Vetiis Couuvdia^' whereby we may guess how
they censured libeling: And this course was quick enough,
" Destroy. '^ Material. " Spiritual element. i' The old Attic
comedy, e. g., of .Vristophaiii^s.
204 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
as Cicero writes, to quell both the desperate wits of other
atheists, and the open way of defaming, as the event showed.
Of other sects and opinions though tending to voluptuous-
ness, and the denying of divine providence they took no
heed. Therefore we do not read that either Epicurus^ or
that libertine school of CyrenCj or what the Cynic impu-
dence uttered, was ever questioned by the laws. Neither is
it recorded that the writings of those old comedians were
suppressed, though the acting of them were forbidden; and
that Plato commended the reading of Aristophanes the
loosest of them all, to "his royal scholar Dionysius, is com-
monly known, and may be excused, if holy Chrysostome, as
is reported, nightly studied so much the same author and
had the art to cleanse a scurrilous vehemence into the style
of a rousing sermon. That other leading city of Greece,
Lacedcrmon, considering that Lycurgus their law-giver was
so addicted to elegant learning, as to have been the first that
brought out of Ionia the scattered works of Homer, and sent
the poet Tholes from Crete to prepare and mollify the
Spartan surliness with his smooth songs and odes, the better
to plant among them law and civility, it is to be wondered
how museless^^ and unboogish they were, minding naught but
the feats of war. There needed no licensing of books among
them for they disliked all, but their own Laconic Apo-
thegms, and took a slight occasion to chase Archilochus out
of their city, perhaps for composing in a higher strain than
their own soldierly ballads and roundelays could reach to : Or
if it were for his broad verses, they were not therein so
cautious, but they were as dissolute in their promiscuous
conversing," whence Euripides affirms in Andromache, that
their women were all unchaste. Thus much may give us
light after what sort books were prohibited among the
Greeks. The Romans also for many ages trained up only
to a military roughness, resembling most of the Lacedce-
monian guise, knew of learning little but what their twelve
tables, and the Pontific college with their Augurs and
Flamins taught them in religion and law, so unacquainted
with other learning, that when Carneadcs and Critolaus,
with the Stoic Diogenes coming ambassadors to Rome,
18 Inartistic. i" Intercourse.
AREOPAGITICA 205
took thereby occasion to give the city a taste of their phi-
losophy, they were suspected for seducers by no less a man
than Cato the censor, who moved it in the senate to dismiss
them speedily, and to banish all such Attic babblers out of
Italy. But Scipio and others of the noblest senators with-
stood him and his old Sabine austerity ; honored and admired
the men; and the censor himself at last in his old age fell
to the study of that whereof before he was so scrupulous.
And yet at the same time Ncevius and Plautiis the first Latin
comedians had filled the city with all the borrowed scenes
of Menandcr and Philemon. Then began to be considered
there also what was to be done to libelous books and au-
thors; for Navius was quickly cast into prison for his un-
bridled pen, and released by the Tribunes upon his recanta-
tion: We read also that libels were burned, and the makers
punished by Augustus. The like severity no doubt was used
if aught were impiously written against their esteemed gods.
Except in these two points, how the world went in books,
the magistrate kept no reckoning. And therefore Lucretius
without impeachment versifies his epicurism to Memmius,
and had the honor to be set forth the second time by Cicero
so great a father of the commonwealth ; although himself
disputes against that opinion in his own writings. Nor was
the satirical sharpness, or naked plainness of Lucilins, or
Catullus, or Flaccus, by any order prohibited. And for mat-
ters of state, the story of Titius Livius, though it extolled
that part which Pompey held, was not therefore suppressed
by Octavius Ccesar of the other faction. But that Naso was
by him banished in his old age, for the wanton poems of his
youth, was but a mere covert of state over some secret
cause : and besides, the books were neither banished nor
called in. From hence we shall meet with little else but
tyranny in the Roman empire, that we may not marvel, if
not so often bad, as good books were silenced. I shall there-
fore deem to have been large enough in producing what
among the ancients was punishable to write, save only which,
all other arguments were free to treat on.
By this time the emperors were become Christians, whose
discipline in this point I do not find to have been more
severe than what was formerly in practise. The books of
206 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
those whom they took to be grand heretics were exannned,
refuted, and condemned in the general counsels ; and not
till then were prohibited, or burned by authority of the em-
peror. As for the writings of heathen authors, unless they
were plain invectives against Christianity, as those of
Porphyrins and Proclus, they met with no inderdict that
can be cited, till about the year 400, in a Carthaginian coun-
cil, wherein bishops themselves were forbidden to read the
books of Gentiles, but heresies they might read : while others
long before them on the contrary scrupled more the books
of heretics, than of Gentiles. And that the primitive councils
and bishops were wont only to declare what books were not
commendable, passing no further, but leaving it to each
one's conscience to read or to lay by, till after the year
800 is observed already by Padre Paolo the great unmasker
of the Trcntinc Council. After which time the Popes of
Rome engrossing what they pleased of political rule into
their own hands, extended their dominion over men's eyes,
as they had before over their judgments, burning and pro-
hibiting to be read, what they fancied not ; yet sparing
in their censures, and the books not many which they so
dealt with : till Martin V by his bull not only prohibited,
but was the first that excommunicated the reading of heret-
ical books; for about that time Wyclif and Huss growing
terrible, were they who first drove the papal court to a
stricter policy of prohibiting. Which course Leo X, and
his successors followed, until the Council of Trent, and the
Spanish inquisition engendering together brought forth, or
perfected those catalogues, and expurging indexes that rake
through the entrails of many an old good author, with a
violation worse than any could be offered to his tomb. Nor
did they stay in matters heretical, but any subject that was
not to their palate, they either condemned in a prohibition,
or had it straight into the new purgatory of an index. To
fill up the measure of encroachment, their last invention
was to ordain that no book, pamphlet, or paper should be
printed (as if St. Peter had bequeathed them the keys of
the press also out of Paradise) unless it were approved and
licensed under the hands of two or three glutton friars.
For example :
AREOPAGITICA 207
Let the Chancellor Cini be pleased to see if in this present
work be contained ought that may withstand^ the printing,
Vincent Rabatta, Vicar of Florence.
I have seen this present work, and find nothing athwart
the Catholic faith and good manners : in witness whereof
I have given, etc.
Nicold Cini, Chancellor of Florence.
Attending the precedent relation, it is allowed that this
present work of Davancaii may be printed,
Vincent Rabbatta, etc.
It may be printed, July 15.
Friar Simon Mompei d' Amelia,
Chancellor of the holy office in Florence.
Sure they have a conceit, if he of the bottomless pit had
not long since broke prison, that this quadruple exorcism
would bar him down. I fear their next design will be to get
into their custody the licensing of that which they say
Claudius intended, but went not through with. Vouchsafe
to see another of their forms the Roman stamp :
Imprimatur^ if it seem good to the reverend master of
the holy palace,
Bclcastro, Vicegerent.
Imprimatur, Friar Nicold Rodolphi, Master of the holy
palace.
Sometimes five Imprimaturs are seen together dialogue-
wise in the Piatza of one title-page, complimenting and
ducking each to other with their shaven reverences, whether
the author, who stands by in perplexity at the foot of
his epistle, shall to the press or to the sponge. These are the
pretty responsories. these are the dear antiphonies that so
bewitched of late our prelates, and their chaplains with the
goodly echo they made ; and besotted us to the gay imitation
of the lordly Imprimatur, one from Lambeth house,"' an-
other from the West end of Pauls;"'^ so apishly Romanizing,
that the word of command still was set down in Latin; as
if the learned grammatical pen that wrote it, would cast
* Forbid. ^ Let it be printed (Latin). —Residence of the Archbishop
of Canterbury. "^ where the Uishop of London formerly lived.
208 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
no ink without Latin; or perhaps, as they thought, because
no vulgar tongue was worthy to express the pure conceit
of an Imprimatur; but rather, as I hope, for that our EngHsh,
the language of men ever famous, and foremost in the
achievements of liberty, will not easily find servile letters
enough to spell such a dictatorie^ presumption English. And
thus ye have the inventors and the original of book-licensing
ripped up, and drawn as lineally as any pedigree. We
have it not, that can be heard of, from any ancient state, or
polity, or church, nor by any statute left us by our ancestors,
elder or later; nor from the modern custom of any reformed
city, or church abroad; but from the most Antichristian
Council^ and the most tyrannous inquisition that ever in-
quired. Till then books were ever as freely admitted into
the world as any other birth; the issue of the brain was no
more stifled than the issue of the womb : no envious Juno
sat cross-legged"" over the nativity of any man's intellectual
offspring; but if it proved a monster, who denies, but that
it was justly burned, or sunk in the sea. But that a book in
worse condition than a peccant soul, should be to stand
before a jury ere it be borne to the world, and undergo yet
in darkness the judgment of Radamanth and his colleagues,"
ere it can pass the ferry backward into light, was never
heard before, till that mysterious iniquity^ provoked and
troubled at the first entrance of reformation, sought out
new limbos and new hells wherein they might include our
books also within the number of their damned. And this
was the rare morsel so officiously snatched up, and so ill-
favoredly imitated by our inquisiturient'^ bishops, and the
attendant minorites"' their chaplains. That ye like not now
these most certain authors of this licensing order, and that
all sinister intention was far distant from your thoughts,
when ye were importuned the passing it, all men who know
the integrity of your actions, and how ye honor truth, will
clear ye readily.
But some will say, what though the inventors were bad,
the thing for all that may be good? It may so: yet if that
thing be no such deep invention, but obvious, and easy for
«* Dictatorial. == Council of Trent. -* As at the birth of Hercules.
s' The judges in Hades. -^ xhe Church of Rome. =9 Desirous of
becoming inquisitors. ^ Franciscan friars.
AREOPAGITICA 209
any man to light on, and yet best and wisest commonwealths
through all ages, and occasions have forborne to use it, and
falsest seducers, and oppressors of men were the first who
took it up, and to no other purpose but to obstruct and hinder
the first approach of Reformation ; I am of those who believe,
it will be a harder alchemy than Lullius'^ ever knew, to sub-
limate'^ any good use out of such an invention. Yet this only
is what I request to gain from this reason, that it may be
held a dangerous and suspicious fruit, as certainly it de-
serves, for the tree that bore it, until I can dissect one by one
the properties it has. But I have first to finish as was pro-
pounded, what is to be thought in general of reading books,
whatever sort they be, and whether be more the benefit,
or the harm that thence proceeds?
Not to insist upon the examples of Moses, Daniel and Paul,
who were skilful in all the learning of the Egyptians, Chal-
deans, and Greeks, which could not probably be without read-
ing their books of all sorts in Paul especially, who thought
it no defilement to insert into holy Scripture, the sentences
of three Greek poets, and one of them a tragedian, the
question was, notwithstanding sometimes controverted among
the primitive doctors, but with great odds on that side which
affirmed it both lawful and profitable, as was then evidently
perceived, when Julian the Apostate, and subtlest enemy of
our faith, made a decree forbidding Christians the study of
heathen learning: for, said he, they wound us with our own
weapons, and with our own arts and sciences they over-
come us. And indeed the Christians were put so to their
shifts by this crafty means, and so much in danger to decline
into all ignorance, that the two Apollinarii were fain as a
man may say, to coin all the seven liberal sciences out of the
Bible, reducing it into divers forms or orations, poems,
dialogues, even to the calculating of a new Christian gram-
mar. But saith the historian Socrates, the providence of
God provided better than the industry of Apollinarius and
his son, by taking away that illiterate law with the life of
him who devised it. So great an injury they then held it to
be deprived of Hellenic learning; and thought it a per-
secution more undermining, and secretly decaying the church
"■Raymond Lully, a scientist of the 13th century. ^Extract.
210 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
than the open cruelty of Decius or Dioclcsian. And per-
haps it was the same poHtic drift that the devil whipped St.
Jerome in a lenten dream, for reading Cicero; or else it was
a phantasm bred by the fever which had then seis'd^* him.
For had an angel been his discipliner, unless it were for
dwelling too much upon Ciceronianisms, and had chastised
the reading, not the vanity, it had been plainly partial ; first
to correct him for grave Cicero, and not for scurril Plautus
whom he confesses to have been reading not long before;
next to correct him only, and let so many more ancient
Fathers wax old in those pleasant and florid studies without
the lash of such a tutoring apparition ; insomuch that Basil
teaches how some good use may be made of Margites a
sportful poem, not now extant, written by Homer; and why
not then of Morgante an Italian romance much to the same
purpose. But if it be agreed we shall be tried by visions,
there is a vision recorded by Eusehius far ancienter
than this tale of Jerome to the nun Eustochium, and
besides has nothing of a fever in it. Dionysius Alexan-
drinits was about the year 240, a person of great name in
the Church for piety and learning, who had wont to avail
himself much against heretics by being conversant in their
books ; until a certain presbyter laid it scrupulously to his
conscience how he durst venture himself among those de-
filing volumes. The worthy man loath to give offense fell
into a new debate with himself what was to be thought; when
suddenly a vision sent from God, it is his own epistle that
so avers it, confirmed him in these words : read any books
what ever come to thy hands, for thou art sufficient both to
judge aright, and to examine each matter. To this reve-
lation he assented the sooner, as he confesses, because it
was answerable to'^' that of the Apostle to the Thessalonians.
prove'' all things, hold fast that which is good. And he might
have added another remarkable saying of the same author ;
to the pure all things are pure, not only meats and drinks,
but all kind of knowledge whether of good or evil ; the knowl-
edge can not defile, nor consequently the books, if the will and
conscience be not defiled. For books are as meats and viands
are, some of good, some of evil substance ; and yet God in that
*3 Possessed. ^ Consistent with. *" Test.
AREOPAGITICA 211
unapocryphal vision, said without exception rise Peter, kill
and eat, leaving the choice to each man's discretion. Whole-
some meats to a vitiated stomach differ little or nothing from
unwholesome ; and best books to a naughty mind are not
unappliable to occasions of evil. Bad meats will scarce breed
good nourishment in the healthiest concoction : but herein
the diff^erence is of bad books, that they to a discreet and
judicious reader serve in many respects to discover, to con-
fute, to forewarn, and to illustrate. Whereof what better
witness can ye expect I should produce, than one of your
own now sitting in Parliament, the chief of learned men
reputed in this land, Mr. Selden, whose volume of natural
and national laws proves, not only by great authorities
brought together, but by exquisite'* reasons and theorems
almost mathematically demonstrative, that all opinions, yea
errors, known, read, and collated, are of main service and
assistance toward the speedy attainment of what is truest.
I conceive therefore, that when God did enlarge the univer-
sal diet of man's body, saving ever the rules of temperance,
he then also, as before, left arbitrary the dieting and repast-
ing of our minds ; as wherein every mature man might have
to exercise his own leading capacity. How great a virtue
is temperance, how much of moment through the whole life
of man? yet God commits the managing so great a trust,
without particular law or prescription, wholly to the de-
meanor of every grown man. And therefore when he him-
self tabled" the Jews from heaven, that omer which was
every man's daily portion of manna, is computed to have been
more than might have well sufficed the heartiest feeder thrice
as many meals. For those actions which enter into a man,
rather than issue out of him, and therefore defile not. God
uses not to captivate under a perpetual childhood of pre-
scription, but trusts him with the gift of reason to be his
own chooser; there were but little work left for preaching, if
law and compulsion [should] grow so fast upon those things
which heretofore were governed only by exhortation. Solo-
mon informs us that much reading is a weariness to the flesh ;
but neither he, nor other inspired author, tells us that such
or such reading is unlawful : yet certainly had God thought
^ Carefully sought out. *' Fed.
212 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
good to limit us herein, it had been much more expedient to
have told us what was unlawful, than what was wearisome.
As for the burning of those Ephesian books by St. Paul's con-
verts, it is replied the books were magic, the Syriac so
renders them. It was a private act, a voluntary act, and
leaves us to a voluntary imitation : the men in remorse
burned those books which were their own ; the Magistrate by
this example is not appointed : these men practised the books,
another might perhaps have read them in some sort usefully.
Good and evil we know in the field of this world grow
up together almost inseparably ; and the knowledge of good
is so involved and interwoven with the knowledge of evil,
and in so many cunning resemblances hardly to be dis-
cerned, that those confused seeds which were imposed on
Psyche as an incessant labor to cull out, and sort asunder,
were not more intermixed. It was from out of the rind of
one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil as
two twins cleaving together leaped forth into the world. And
perhaps this is that doom which Adam fell into of knowing
good and evil, that is to say of knowing good by evil.
As therefore the state of man now is ; what wisdom can
there be to choose, what continence to forbear without the
knowledge of evil? He that can apprehend and consider
vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain,
and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better,
he is the true warfaring Christian. I can not praise a fugitive
and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never
sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race,
where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without
dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into the
world, we bring impurity much rather : that which purifies
us is trial, and trial is by what is contrary. That virtue
therefore which is but a youngling in the contemplation of
evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her fol-
lowers, and rejects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure;
her whiteness is but an excrementaP whiteness; which was
the reason why our sage and serious poet Spenser, whom
I dare be known to think a better teacher than Scotus or
Aquinas, describing true temperance under the person of
^ External.
AREOPAGITICA 213
Guion, brings him in with his palmer through the cave
of Mammon, and the bower of earthly bliss that he might see
and know, and yet abstain. Since therefore the knowledge
and survey of vice is in this world so necessary to the con-
stituting of human virtue, and the scanning of error to the
confirmation of truth, how can we more safely, and with
less danger scout into the regions of sin and falsity than by
reading all manner of tracts, and hearing all manner of
reason? And this is the benefit which may be had of books
promiscuously read. But of the harm that may result hence
three kinds are usually reckoned. First, is feared the in-
fection that may spread; but then all human learning and
controversy in religious points must remove out of the world,
yea the Bible itself; for that ofttimes relates blasphemy not
nicely,*' it describes the carnal sense of wicked men not un-
elegantly," it brings in holiest men passionately murmuring
against Providence through all the arguments of Epicurus:
in other great disputes it answers dubiously and darkly to
the common reader : and ask a Talmudist what ails the mod-
esty of his marginal keri,*^ that Moses and all the Prophets
can not persuade him to pronounce the textual chetiv.*^ For
these causes we all know the Bible itself put by the Papist
into the first rank of prohibited books. The ancientest
Fathers must be next removed, as Clement of Alexandria,
and that Eusehian book of evangelic preparation, trans-
mitting our ears through a hoard of heathenish obscenities
to receive the Gospel. Who finds not that Irenceiis, Epiph-
anius, Jerome, and others discover more heresies than they
well confute, and that oft for heresy which is the truer opinion.
Nor boots it to say for these, and all the heathen writers of
greatest infection, if it must be thought so, with whom is
bound up the life of human learning, that they wrote in an
unknown tongue, so long as we are sure those languages are
known as well to the worst of men, who are both most
able, and most diligent to instil the poison they suck, first
into the courts of princes, acquainting them with the choicest
delights, and criticisms of sin. As perhaps did that Pctronins
whom Nero called his Arbiter, the master of his revels; and
^ Fastidiously. *" Not without elaboration.
" Comment. *^ Text.
214 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
that notorous ribald of Arczzo^ dreaded, and yet dear to the
Italian courtiers. I name not him" for posterity's sake,
whom Harry the Eighth, named in merriment his vicar of
hell. By which compendious way all the contagion that
foreign books can infuse, will find a passage to the people
far easier and shorter than an Indian voyage, though it
could be sailed either by the north of Caiaio*'" eastward, or
of Canada westward, while our Spanish licensing gags the
English press never so severely. But on the other side
that infection which is from books of controversy in religion,
is more doubtful and dangerous to the learned, than to the
ignorant ; and yet those books must be permitted untouched
by the licenser. It will be hard to instance where any
ignorant man hath been ever seduced by Papistical book in
English, unless it were commended and expounded to him by
some of that clergy : and indeed all such tracts whether false
or true are as the Prophecy of Isaiah was to the Eunuch, not
to be understood without a guide. But of our priests and
doctors how many have been corrupted by studying the
comments of Jesuits and Sorhonnists^ and how fast they
could transfuse that corruption into the people, our experi-
ence is both late and sad. It is not forgot, since the acute
and distinct" Arminius was perverted merely by the perusing
of a nameless discourse written at Delft, which at first he
took in hand to confute. Seeing therefore that those books,
and those in great abundance which are likeliest to taint both
life and doctrine, can not be suppressed without the fall of
learning, and of all ability in disputation, and that these
books of either sort are most and soonest catching to the
learned, from whom to the common people whatever is
heretical or dissolute may quickly be conveyed, and that evil
manners are as perfectly learned without books a thousand
other ways which can not be stopped, and evil doctrine not
with books can propagate, except a teacher guide, which he
might also do without writing, and so beyond prohibiting.
I am not able to unfold, how this cautelous** enterprise of
licensing can be exempted from the number of vain and
impossible attempts. And he who were pleasantly disposed,
*' Aretino. ** Probably the poet Skelton. ^* Cathay, in Tartary.
**■ From the theological college of the Sorbonne, in Paris.
*' Clear-thinking. *^ Tricky, deceptive.
AREOPAGITICA 215
could not well avoid to liken it to the exploit of that gallant
man who thought to pound up the crows by shutting his
park gate. Besides another inconvenience, if learned men
be the first receivers out of books and dispreaders both of
vice and error, how shall the licensers themselves be confided
in, unless we can confer upon them, or they assume to them-
selves above all others in the land, the grace of infallibility,
and uncorruptedness? And again if it be true, that a wise
man like a good refiner can gather gold out of the drossiest
volume, and that a fool will be a fool with the best book,
yea or without book, there is no reason that we should de-
prive a wise man of any advantage to his wisdom, while
we seek to restrain from a fool that which being restrained
will be no hindrance to his folly. For if there should be so
much exactness always used to keep that from him w^hicii
is unfit for his reading, we should in judgment of Aristotle
not only, but of Solomon, and of our Saviour, not vouchsafe
him good precepts, and by consequence not willingly admit
him to good books, as being certain that a wise man will make
better use of an idle pamphlet, than a fool will do of sacred
Scripture. It is next alleged we must not expose ourselves
to temptations without necessity, and next to that, not employ
our time in vain things. To both these objections one answer
will serve, out of the grounds already laid, that to all men
such books are not temptations, nor vanities; but useful
drugs and materials wherewith to temper and compose ef-
fective and strong medicines, which man's life can not want.*'
The rest, as children and childish men, who have not the
art to qualify and prepare these working minerals, well may
be exhorted to forbear, but hindered forcibly they can not
be by all the licensing that sainted inquisition could ever
yet contrive ; which is what I promised to deliver next, that
this order of licensing conduces nothing to the end for
which it was framed: and hath almost prevented"" me by
being clear already while thus much hath been explaining.
See the ingenuity"' of truth, who when she gets a free and
willing hand, opens herself faster, than the pace of method
and discourse can overtake her. It was the task which
I began with, to show that no nation, or well instituted
*• Do without. ^ Anticipated. '^ Ingenuousness, frankness.
216 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
state, if they valued books at alL did ever use this way
of licensing; and it might be answered, that this is a piece
of prudence lately discovered, to which I return, that as it
was a thing slight and obvious to think on, for if it had been
difficult to find out, there wanted not among them long since,
who suggested such a course ; which they not following, leave
us a pattern of their judgment, that it was not the not
knowing, but the not approving, which was the cause of
their not using it. Plato, a man 'of high authority indeed,
but least of all for his Commonwealth, in the book of his
laws, which no city ever received, fed his fancy with
making many edicts to his airy^^ burgomasters, which they
who otherwise admire him, wish had been rather buried
and excused in the genial cups of an academic night-sitting.
By which laws he seems to tolerate no kind of learning,
but by unalterable decree, consisting most of practical-
traditions, to the attainment whereof a library of smaller
bulk than his own dialogues would be abundant. And
there also enacts that no poet should so much as read to
any private man, what he had written, until the judges and
lawkeepers had seen it, and allowed it : but that Plato meant
this law peculiarly to that Commonwealth which he had im-
agined, and to no other, is evident. Why was he not else
a law-giver to himself, but a transgressor, and to be ex-
pelled by his own magistrates, both for the wanton epigrams
and dialogues which he made, and his perpetual reading
of Sophron Mimus, and Aristophanes, books of grossest in-
famy, and also for commending the latter of them though
he were the malicious libeller of his chief friends,^ to be
read by the tyrant Dionysius, who had little need of such
trash to spend his time on? But that he knew this licensing
of poems had reference and dependence to many other
provisos there set down in his fancied republic, which
in this world could have no place: and so neither he him-
self, nor any magistrate, or city ever imitated that course,
which taken apart from those other collateral injunctions
must needs be vain and fruitless. For if they fell upon" one
kind of strictness, unless their care were equal to regulate
all other things of like aptness to corrupt the mind, that single
52 Imaginary. ^ E. g., of Socrates. " Adopted vigorously.
AREOPAGITICA 217
endeavor they knew would be but a fond labor; to shut and
fortify one gate against corruption, and be necessitated to
leave others round about wide open. If we think to regulate
printing, thereby to rectify manners, we must regulate all
recreations and pastimes, all that is delightful to man. No
music must be heard, no song be set or sung, but what is
grave and Doric. There must be licensing dancers, that
no gesture, motion, or deportment be taught our youth but
what by their allowance shall be thought honest ; for such
Plato was provided of; it will ask more than the work of
twenty licensers to examine all the lutes, the violins, and the
guitars in every house ; they must not be suffered to prattle
as they do, but must be licensed what they may say.
And who shall silence all the airs and madrigals, that whisper
softness in chambers? The windows also, and the balconies
must be thought on, there are shrewd^ books, with dangerous
frontispieces set to sale ; who shall prohibit them, shall twenty
licensers? The villages also must have their visitors to
inquire what lectures the bagpipe and the rebbeck^" reads
even to the balladry, and the gamut of every municipal
fiddler, for these are the countryman's Arcadias^'' and his
Monte Mayors." Next, what more national corruption, for
which England hears ill"^ abroad, then household gluttony;
who shall be the rectors^* of our daily rioting? and what shall
be done to inhibit the multitudes that frequent those houses
where drunkenness is sold and harbored? Our garments
also should be referred to the licensing of some more
sober work-masters to see them cut into a less wanton
garb. Who shall regulate all the mixed conversation*'" of
our youth, male and female together, as is the fashion of
this country, who shall still appoint what shall be dis-
coursed, what presumed, and no further? Lastly, who shall
forbid and separate all idle resort, all evil company? These
things will be, and must be ; but how they shall be less
hurtful, how less enticing, herein consists the grave and
governing wisdom of a State. To sequester out of the world
into Atlantic and Utopian polities,*^ which never can be
^^ Wicked. ^Fiddle. "Popular novels of the 15th century.
^ Is ill-spoken of. ^■' Governors. *" Intercourse.
«i /. c, into imaginary commonwealths, like Bacon's " New Atlantis " and
Mere's " Utopia."
218 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
drawn into use, will not mend our condition; but to
ordain wisely as in this world of evil, in the midst whereof
God hath placed lis unavoidably. Nor is it Plato's licensing
of books will do this, which necessarily pulls along with it
so many other kinds of licensing, as will make us all both
ridiculous and weary, and yet frustrate; but those unwrit-
ten, or at least unconstraining laws of virtuous education,
religious and civil nurture, which Plato there mentions, as
the bonds and ligaments of the Commonwealth, the pillars
and the sustainers of every written statute ; these they be
which will bear chief sway in such matters as these, when
all licensing will be easily eluded. Impunity and remissness,
for certain are the bane of a Commonwealth, but here the
great art lies to discern in what the law is to bid restraint
and punishment, and in what things persuasion only is to
work. If every action which is good, or evil in man at
ripe years, were to be under pittance, and prescription,
and compulsion, what were virtue but a name, what praise
could be then due to well-doing, what grammercy" to be
sober, just, or continent? many there be that complain of
divine providence for suffering Adam to transgress, foolish
tongues ! when God gave him reason, he gave him freedom
to choose, for reason is but choosing; he had been else a
mere artificial Adam, such an Adam as he is in the mo-
tions.'* We ourselves esteem not of that obedience, or
love, or gift, which is of force; God therefore left him free,
set before him a provoking object, ever almost in his eyes
herein consisted his merit, herein the right of his reward,
the praise of his abstinence. Wherefore did he create pas-
sions within us, pleasures round about us, but that these
rightly tempered are the very ingredients of virtue? They
are not skilful considerers of human things, who imagine
to remove sin by removing the matter of sin ; for, besides
that it is a huge heap increasing under the very act of dimin-
ishing though some part of it may for a time be with-
drawn from some persons, it can not from all, in such a uni-
versal thing as books are ; and when this is done, yet the
sin remains entire. Though ye take from a covetous man
all his treasure he has 3'et one jewel left, ye can not be-
*^ Great thanks. ^ Puppet shows.
AREOPAGITICA 219
reave him of his covetousness. Banish all objects of lust,
shut up all youth into the severest discipline that can be
exercised in any hermitage, ye can not make them chaste,
that came not thither so ; such great care and wisdom is
required to the right managing of this point. Suppose we
could expel sin by this means ; look how much we thus expel
of sin, so much we expel of virtue: for the matter of them
both is the same ; remove that, and ye remove them both
alike. This justifies the high providence of God, who
though he command us temperance, justice, continence, yet
pours out before us even to a profuseness all desirable
things, and gives us minds that can wander beyond all limit
and satiety. Why should we then effect a rigor contrary
to the manner of God and of nature, by abridging or scant-
ing those means, which books freely permitted are, both to
the trial of virtue, and the exercise of truth. It would be
better done to learn that the law must needs be frivolous
which goes to restrain things, uncertainly and yet equally
working to good, and to evil. And were I the chooser,
a dram of well-doing should be preferred before many
times as much the forcible hindrance of evil-doing. For
God sure esteems the growth and completing of one virtuous
person, more than the restraint of ten vicious. And albeit
whatever thing we hear or see, sitting, walking, traveling,
or conversing may be fitly called our book, and is of the
same effect that writings are, yet grant the thing to be pro-
hibited were only books, it appears that this order hitherto
is far insufficient to the end which it intends. Do we not
see, not once or oftener, but weekly that continued court-
liber* against the Parliament and city, printed, as the wet
sheets can witness, and dispersed among us for all that
licensing can do? yet this is the prime service a man would
think, wherein this order should give proof of itself. If
it were executed, you'll say. But certain, if execution be
remiss or blindfold now, and in this particular, what will it
be hereafter, and in other books. If then the order shall
not be vain and frustrate, behold a new labor, Lords and
Commons, ye must repeal and proscribe all scandalous and
unlicensed books already printed and divulged*': after ye
«* " Mercurius Aulicus," a royalist journal. *^ Published.
220 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
have drawn them up into a list, that all may know which are
condemned, and which not ; and ordain that no foreign books
be delivered out of custody, till they have been read over.
This office will require the whole time of not a few over-
seers, and those no vulgar^ men. There be also books which
are partly useful and excellent, partly culpable and per-
nicious ; this work will ask as many more officials to make
expurgations and expunctions,^' that the commonwealth of
learning be not damnified.® In fine, when the multitude of
books increase upon their hands, ye must be fain to cata-
logue all those printers who are found frequently offending,
and forbid the importation of their whole suspected typog-
raphy. In a word, that this order may be exact, and not de-
ficient, ye must reform it perfectly according to the model of
Trcnf^ and Seville,'" which I know ye abhor to do. Yet
though ye should condescend to this, which God forbid, the
order still would be but fruitless and defective to that end
whereto ye meant it. If to prevent sects and schisms, who
is so unread or so uncatechised in story, that hath not heard
of many sects refusing books as a hindrance, and pre-
serving their doctrine unmixed for many ages, only by un-
written traditions. The Christian faith, for that was once
a schism, is not unknown to have spread all over Asia, ere
any Gospel or Epistle was seen in writing. If the amend-
ment of manners be aimed at, look into Italy and Spain,
whether those places be one scruple the better, the more
honest, the wiser, the chaster, since all the inquisitional rigor
that hath been executed upon books.
Another reason, whereby to make it plain that this order
will miss the end it seeks, consider by the quality which
ought to be in every licenser. It can not be denied but that
he who is made judge to sit upon the birth, or death of
books whether they may be wafted into this world, or not,
had need to be a man above the common measure, both stu-
dious, learned, and judicious; there may be else no mean
mistakes in the censure of what is passable or not; which is
also no mean injury. If he be of such worth as behooves
him, there can not be a more tedious and unpleasing journey-
•• Ordinary- •"Omissions. '^Injured. ^ Council of Trent.
'" Headquarters of the Spanish Inquisition.
AREOPAGITICA 221
work, a greater loss of times levied upon his head, than to
be made the perpetual reader of unchosen books and pam-
phlets, ofttimes huge volumes. There is no book that is
acceptable unless at certain seasons; but to be enjoined the
reading of that at all times, and in a hand scarce legible,
whereof three pages would not down at any time in the fair-
est print, is an imposition which I can not believe how he
that values time, and his own studies, or is but of a sensible
nostril should be able to endure. In this one thing I crave
leave of the present licensers to be pardoned for so thinking:
who doubtless took this office up, looking on it through their
obedience to the Parliament, whose command perhaps made
all things seem easy and unlaborious to them ; but that this
short trial hath wearied them out already, their own ex-
pressions and excuses to them who make so many journeys
to solicit their license, are testimony enough. Seeing there-
fore those who now possess the employment, by all evident
signs with themselves well rid of it, and that no man of
worth, none that is not a plain unthrift of his own hours is
ever likely to succeed them, except he mean to put himself
to the salary of a press-corrector, we may easily foresee what
kind of licensers we are to expect hereafter, either ignorant,
imperious, and remiss, or basely pecuniary. This is what
I had to show wherein this order can not conduce to that
end, whereof it bears the intention.
I lastly proceeded from the no good it can do, to the mani-
fest hurt it causes, in being first the greatest discouragement
and affront that can be offered to learning and to learned
men. It was the complaint and lamentation of prelates, upon
every least breath of a motion to remove pluralities," and
distribute more equally church revenues, that then all learn-
ing would be forever dashed and discouraged. But as for
that opinion, I never found cause to think that the tenth
part of learning stood or fell with the clergy: nor could I
ever but hold it for a sordid and unworthy speech of any
churchman who had a competency left him. If therefore
ye be loath to dishearten utterly and discontent, not the
mercenary crew of false pretenders to learning, but the
■^ The holding of several livings by one clergyman had been a chief cause
of complaint against the Episcopal Church.
222 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
free and ingenuous sort of such as evidently were born to
study, and love learning for itself, not for lucre, or any other
end, but the service of God and of truth, and perhaps that
lasting fame and perpetuity of praise which God and good
men have consented shall be the reward of those whose
published labors advance the good of mankind, then know,
that so far to distrust the judgment and the honesty of one
who hath but a common repute in learning, and never yet
offended, as not to count him fit to print his mind without
a tutor and examiner, lest he should drop a schism, or some-
thing of corruption, is the greatest displeasure and indignity
to a free and knowing spirit that can be put upon him. What
advantage is it to be a man over it is to be a boy at school,
if we have only escaped the ferular,'"to come under the fescu"'
of an Imprimatur^ if serious and elaborate writings, as if
they were no more than the theme of a grammar lad under
his pedagogue must not be uttered" without the cursory eyes
of a temporizing and extemporizing licenser. He who is not
trusted with his own actions, his drift not being known to be
evil, and standing to the hazard of law and penalty, has no
great argument to think himself reputed in the common-
wealth wherein he was born, for other than a fool or a for-
eigner. When a man writes to the world, he summons up all
his reason, and deliberation to assist him ; he searches, medi-
tates, is industrious, and likely consults and confers with his
judicious friends; after all which done he takes himself to be
informed in what he writes, as well as any that wrote before
him ; if in this the most consummate act of his fidelity and
ripeness, no years, no industry, no former proof of his
abilities can bring him to that state of maturity, as not to be
still mistrusted and suspected, unless he carry all his con-
siderate diligence, all his midnight watchings, and expense
of Palladian'* oil, to the hasty view of an unleisured licenser,
perhaps much his younger, perhaps far his inferior in judg-
ment, perhaps one who never knew the labor of book-writing,
and if he be not repulsed, or slighted, must appear in print
like a puny'^ with his guardian, and his censor's hand on
the back of his title to be his bail and surety, that he is no
idiot, or seducer, it can not be but a dishonor and derogation
" Rod. " Published. "* From Pallas, goddess of learning. "> Minor.
AREOPAGITICA 223
to the author, to the book, to the privilege and dignity of
learning. And what if the author shall be one so copious
of fancy, as to have many things well worth the adding,
come into his mind after licensing, while the book is yet
under the press, which not seldom happens to the best and
most diligent writers ; and that perhaps a dozen times in
one book. The printer dares not go beyond his licensed
copy ; so often then must the author trudge to his leave-
giver, that those his new insertions may be viewed ; and
many a jaunt will be made, ere that licenser, for it must be
the same man, can either be found, or found at leisure ;
meanwhile either the press must stand still, which is no small
damage, or the author lose his most accurate thoughts, and
send the book forth worse than he had made it, which to
a diligent writer is the greatest melancholy and vexation
that can befall. And how can a man teach with authority,
which is the life of teaching, how can he be a doctor in his
book as he ought to be. or else had better be silent, whenas
all he teaches, all he delivers, is but under the tuition, under
the correction of his patriarchal licenser to blot or alter
what precisely accords not with the hidebound humor which
he calls his judgment? When every acute reader upon the
first sight of a pedantic license, will be ready with these like
words to ding"'^ the book a quoit's distance from him: ''I
hate a pupil teacher, I endure not an instructor that comes
to me under the wardship of an overseeing fist. I know
nothing of the licenser, but that I have his ow*n hand here
for his arrogance; who shall warrant me his judgment?"
" The State, sir," replies the Stationer, but has a quick re-
turn: "The State shall be my governors, but not my critics;
they may be mistaken in the choice of a licenser, as easily
as this licenser may be mistaken in an author: this is some
common stuff;" and he might add from Sir Francis Bacon.
That such authorised books arc but the language of the times.
For though a licenser should happen to be judicious more
than ordinarily, which will be a great jeopardy of the next
succession, yet his very office, and his commission enjoins
him to let pass nothing but what is vulgarly received already.
Nay, which is more lamentable, if the work of any deceased
'• Throw violently.
224 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
author, though never so famous in his lifetime, and even
to this day, come to their hands for Hcense to be printed,
or reprinted, if there be found in his book one sentence of
a venturous edge, uttered in the height of zeal, and w^ho
knows whether it might not be the dictate of a divine spirit,
yet not suiting with every low decrepit humor of their own,
though it were Knox himself, the reformer of a kingdom that
spake it, they will not pardon him their dash :" the sense
of that great man shall to all posterity be lost, for the fear-
fulness, or the presumptuous rashness of a perfunctory
licenser. And to what an author this violence hath been
lately done, and in what book of greatest consequence to
be faithfully published, I could now instance, but shall for-
bear till a more convenient season. Yet if these things be
not resented seriously and timely by them who have the
remedy in their power, but that such iron molds'^ as these
shall have authority to gnaw out the choicest periods of the
most exquisite books, and to commit such a treacherous fraud
against the orphan remainders of worthiest men after death,
the more sorrow will belong to that hapless race of men,
whose misfortune it is to have understanding. Henceforth
let no man care to learn, or care to be more than worldly
wise; for certainly in higher matters to be ignorant and
slothful, to be a common steadfast dunce will be the only
pleasant life, and only in request.
And as it is a particular disesteem of every knowing per-
son alive, and most injurious to the written labors and
monuments of the dead, so to me it seems an undervaluing
and vilifying™ of the whole nation. I can not set so light
by all the invention, the art, the wit, the grave and solid
judgment which is in England, as that it can be compre-
hended in any twenty capacities how good soever, much less
that it should not pass except their superintendence be over
it, except it be sifted and strained with their strainers, that
it should be uncurrent without their manual stamp. Truth
and understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized
and traded in by tickets^ and statutes, and standards. We
must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowl-
edge in the land, to mark and license it like our broadcloth,
" Spare to blot it out. "^ Rust. " Cheapening. «• Receipts.
AREOPAGITICA 225
and our wool packs. What is it but a servitude like that im-
posed by the Philistines, not to be allowed the sharpening
of our own axes and coulters, but we must repair from all
quarters to twenty licensing forges. Had any one written
and divulged erroneous things and scandalous to honest life,
misusing and forfeiting the esteem had of his reason among
men, if after conviction this only censure were adjudged
him, that he should never henceforth write, but what were
first examined by an appointed officer, whose hand should
be annexed to pass his credit for him, that now he might
be safely read, it could not be apprehended less than a
disgraceful punishment. Whence to include the whole
nation, and those that never yet thus offended, under such
a diffident^^ and suspectful prohibition, may plainly be un-
derstood what a disparagement it is. So much the more,
when as debtors and delinquents may walk abroad without
a keeper, but unoffensive books must not stir forth without
a visible jailer in their title. Nor is it to the common people
less than a reproach ; for if we be so jealous over*' them, as
that we dare not trust them with an English pamphlet, what
do we but censure them for a giddy, vicious, and ungrounded
people ; in such a sick and weak estate of faith and discre-
tion, as to be able to take nothing down but through the
pipe of a licenser. That this is care or love of them, we
can not pretend, whenas in those popish places where the
laity are most hated and despised the same strictness is used
over them. Wisdom we can not call it, because it stops
but one breach of license, nor that neither; whenas those
corruptions which it seeks to prevent, break in faster at
other doors which can not be shut.
And in conclusion it reflects to the disrepute of our min-
isters also, of whose labors we should hope better, and of
the proficiency which their flock reaps by them, than that
after all this light of the Gospel which is, and is to be, and
all this continual preaching, they should be still frequented
with such an unprincipled, unedified, and laick^ rabble, as
that the whiff of every new pamphlet should stagger them out
of their catechism, and Christian walking. This may have
much reason to discourage the ministers when such a low
81 Distrusting. ^- Suspect. ^ Ignorant.
Hc in g
226 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
conceit is had of all their exhortations, and the benefiting
of their hearers, as that they are not thought fit to be turned
loose to three sheets of paper without a licenser, that all the
sermons, all the lectures preached, printed, vented in such
numbers, and such volumes, as have now well-nigh made
all other books unsalable, should not be armor enough
against one single enchiridion,^ without the castle St.
Angela^ of an Imprimatur.
And lest some should persuade ye. Lord and Commons,
that these arguments of learned men's discouragement at
this your order, are mere flourishes, and not real, I could
recount what I have seen and heard in other countries,
where this kind of inquisition tyrannizes ; when I have sat
among their learned men, for that honor I had, and been
counted happy to be born in such a place of Philosophic
freedom, as they supposed England was, while themselves
did nothing but bemoan the servile condition into which
learning amongst them was brought ; that this was it which
had damped the glory of Italian wits ; that nothing had been
there written now these many years but flattery and fustian.
There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo
grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in
astronomy, otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican
licensers thought. And though I knew that England then
was groaning loudest under the prelatical yoke, nevertheless
I took it as a pledge of future happiness, that other nations
were so persuaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my
hope that those worthies were then breathing in her air,
who should be her leaders to such a deliverance, as shall
never be forgotten by any revolution of time that this world
hath to finish. When that was once begun, it was as little
in my fear, that what words of complaint I heard among
learned men of other parts uttered against the Inquisition,
the same I should hear by as learned men at home uttered
in time of Parliament against an order of licensing; and that
so generally, that when I disclosed myself a companion of
their discontent. I might say, if without envy, that he^ whom
an honest qiiccstorship had endeared to the Siciliaus, was
** A pun on the two meanines of dagger and hand-book.
''^ The Pope's fortress. '^ Cicero.
AREOPAGITICA 227
not more by them importuned against Verves, than the
favorable opinion which I had among many who honor
ye, and are known and respected by ye, loaded me with
entreaties and persuasions, that I would not despair to lay
together that which just reason should bring into my mind,
toward the removel of an undeserved thraldom upon learn-
ing. That this is not therefore the disburdening of a par-
ticular fancy, but the common grievance of all those who
had prepared their minds and studies above the vulgar pitch
to advance truth in others, and from others to entertain it,
thus much may satisfy. And in their name I shall for neither
friend nor foe conceal what the general murmur is ; that if
it come to inquisitioning again, and licensing, and that we
are so timorous of ourselves, and so suspicious of all men,
as to fear each book, and the shaking of every leaf, before
we know what the contents are, if some who but of late
were little better than silenced from preaching, shall come
now to silence us from reading, except what they please, it
can not be guessed what is intended by some but a second
tyranny over learning: and will soon put it out of con-
troversy that bishops and presbyters are the same to us
both name and thing. That those evils of prelacy which
before from five or six and twenty sees were distributively
charged upon the whole people, will now light wholly upon
learning, is not obscure to us: whereas now the pastor of
a small unlearned parish, on the sudden shall be exalted
archbishop over a large diocese of books, and yet not re-
move, but keep his other cure too, a mystical pluralist. He
who but of late cried down the sole ordination of every
novice bachelor of art, and denied sole jurisdiction over the
simplest parishioner, shall now at home in his private chair
assume both these over worthiest and most excellent books
and ablest authors that write them. This is not, ye covenants
and protestations that we have made, this is not to put down
prelacy, this is but to chop*^ an episcopacy, this is but
to translate the palace Metropolitan from one kind of domin-
ion into another, this is but an old canonical sleight*"* of
commuting our penance.*" To startle thus betimes at a mere
•^ Exchange. ^^ Trick allowed by the canon law.
•* Exchanging one kind of penance for another.
228 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
unlicensed pamphlet will after a while be afraid of every
conventicle,*" and a while after will make a conventicle of
every Christian meeting. But I am certain that a state gov-
erned by the rules of justice and fortitude, or a church built
and founded upon the rock of faith and true knowledge,
can not be so pusillanimous. While things are yet not con-
stituted in religion, that freedom of writing should be re-
strained by a discipline imitated from the prelates, and
learned by them from the Inquisition to shut us up all
again into the breast of a licenser, must needs give cause
of doubt and discouragement to all learned and religious
men.
Who can not but discern the fineness of this politic drift,
and who are the contrivers ; that while bishops were to be
baited" down, then all presses might be open; it was the
people's birthright and privilege in time of Parliament, it
was the breaking forth of light. But now the bishops abro-
gated and voided out"" of the church, as if our Reformation
sought no more, but to make room for others into their seats
under another name, the episcopal arts begin to bud again,
the cruse of truth must run no more oil, liberty of printing
must be enthralled again under a prelatical commission of
twenty, the privilege of the people nullified, and which is
worse, the freedom of learning must groan again and to
her old fetters ; all this the Parliament yet sitting. Although
their own late arguments and defenses against the prelates
might remember them that this obstructing violence meets
for the most part with an event utterly opposite to the end
which it drives at: instead of suppressing sects and schisms,
it raises them and invests them with a reputation : " The
punishing of zvits enhances their authority," saith the Vis-
count St. Albans, "and a forbidden ivriting is thought to
be a certain spark of truth that flics up in the faces of them
•who seek to tread it out." This order therefore may prove
a nursing mother to sects, but I shall easily show how it
will be a step-dame to truth : and first by disenabling us to
the maintenance of what is known already.
Well knows he who uses to consider, that our faith and
knowledge thrives by exercise, as well as our limbs and com-
*» Non-conformist assembly. "Worried (as by dogs). »= Abolished.
AREOPAGITICA 229
plexion/* Truth is compared in Scripture to a streaming
fountain; if her waters flow not in a perpetual progression,
they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition.
A man may be a heretic in the truth; and if he beHeve things
only because his pastor says so, or the Assembly so de-
termines, without knowing other reason, though his belief
be true, yet the very truth he holds, becomes his heresy.
There is not any burden that some would gladder post off to
another, than the charge and care of their religion. There
be, who knows not that there be of Protestants and pro-
fessors°* who live and die in as errant and implicit"' faith,
as any lay Papist or Loretto."" A wealthy man addicted to
his pleasure and to his profits, finds religion to be a traffic
so entangled, and of so many piddling"^ accounts, that of all
mysteries"* he can not skilP to keep a stock going upon that
trade. What should he do? fain he would have the name to
be religious, fain he would bear up with his neighbors in
that. What does he therefore, but resolves to give over
toiling, and to find himself out some factor,"" to whose care
and credit he may commit the whole managing of his re-
ligious affairs ; some divine of note and estimation that must
be. To him he adheres, resigns the whole warehouse of his
religion, with all the locks and keys into his custody; and
indeed makes the very person of that man his religion ; es-
teems his associating with him a sufficient evidence and com-
mendatory of his own piety. So that a man may say his re-
ligion is now no more within himself, but is become an
individual"^ movable, and goes and comes near him, accord-
ing as that good man frequents the house. He entertains
him, gives him gifts, feasts him, lodges him ; his religion
comes home at night, prays, is liberally supped, and sump-
tuously laid to sleep, rises, is saluted, and after the malmsey,^"'
or some well spiced bruage,"" and better breakfasted than he
whose morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs
between Bethany and Jerusalem, his religion walks abroad
at eight, and leaves his kind entertainer in the shop trading
all day without his religion.
Another sort there be who when they hear that all things
*3 Constitution. "Puritans. ""Taken on trust. "* A famous place of
pilgrimage in central Italy. "J Petty. ''« Trades. "» Manage. ""Agent.
I'l Separable. "'- The morning draft of wine. '"^ Ale, or other drink.
230 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
shall be ordered, all things regulated and settled; nothing
written but what passes through the custom-house of certain
publicans'"* that have the tunaging and the poundaging'"" of all
free spoken truth, will straight give themselves up into your
hands, make them and cut them out what religion ye please ;
there be delights, there be recreations and jolly pastimes that
will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock the tedious
year as in a delightful dream. What"^ need they torture
their heads with that which others have taken so strictly, and
so unalterably into their own purveying? These are the
fruits which a dull ease and cessation of our knowledge will
bring forth among the people. How goodly, and how to be
wished were such an obedient unanimity as this, what a fine
conformity would it starch us all into? Doubtless a staunch
and solid piece of framework, as any January could freeze
together.
Nor much better will be the consequence even among the
clergy themselves ; it is no new thing never heard of before,
for a parochial minister, who has his reward, and is at his
Hercules pillars"^ in a warm benefice, to be easily inclin-
able, if he have nothing else that may rouse up his studies,
to finish his circuit'"^ in an English concordance and a topic
folioT^ the gatherings and savings of a sober graduateship,
a Harmony^^" and a Catena^^^ treading the constant round of
certain common doctrinal heads, attended with their uses,
motives, marks and means, out of which as out of an alpha-
bet or sol fa by forming and transforming, joining and dis-
joining variously a little book-craft, and two hours medita-
tion might furnish him unspeakably to the performance of
more than a weekly charge of sermoning: not to reckon up
the infinite helps of interlinearies,"' breviaries,"^ synopses^^*'
and other loitering gear."' But as for the multitude of
sermons ready printed and piled up, on every text that is
not difficult, our London trading St. Thomas in his vestry,
and add to boot St. Martin and St. Hugh, have not within
their hallowed limits more vendible ware of all sorts ready
i"" Tax-collectors. ^"^ \ reference to the illegal tax levied by Charles I.
100 Why. 10' Limit of his ambition, r.s the Straits of Gibraltar were
the limits of the ancient world. "* /. e., of studies. '"* Commonplace
book. 11" E. g., of the Gospels. m Chain or list of authorities.
"^ Translations. ^^ Abridgments. "* Lazy man's apparatus.
AREOPAGITICA 231
made:"^ so that penury he never need fear of pulpit pro-
vision, having where so plenteously to refresh his magazine.
But if his rear and flanks be not impaled,"" if his back door
be not secured by the rigid hcenser, but that a bold book
may now and then issue forth, and give the assault to some
of his old collections in their trenches, it will concern him
then to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good guards
and sentinels about his received opinions, to walk the round
and counter-round with his fellow inspectors, fearing lest
any of his flock be seduced, who also then would be better
instructed, better exercised and disciplined. And God send
that the fear of this diligence which must then be used, do
not make us affect the laziness of a licensing church.
For if we be sure we are in the right, and do not hold the
truth guiltily, which becomes not, if we ourselves condemn
not our own weak and frivolous teaching, and the people for
an untaught and irreligious gadding rout, what can be more
fair, than when a man judicious, learned, and of a con-
science, for aught we know, as good as theirs that taught
us what we know, shall not privily from house to house,
which is more dangerous, but openly by writing publish to
the world what his opinion is, what his reasons, and where-
fore that which is now thought can not be sound. Christ
urged it as wherewith to justify himself, that he preached
in public; yet writing is more public than preaching; and
more easy to refutation, if need be, there being so many
whose business and profession merely it is, to be the cham-
pions of truth; which if they neglect, what can be imputed
but their sloth, or inability?
Thus much we are hindered and disinured"^ by this course
of licensing toward the true knowledge of what we seem to
know. For how much it hurts and hinders the licensers
themselves in the calling of their ministry, more than any
secular employment, if they will discharge that office as they
ought, so that of necessity they must neglect either the one
duty or the other, I insist not, because it is a particular, but
leave it to their own conscience, how they will decide it
there.
**"_"/. e., our largest and busiest marts are as well stocked with sermons
as with any other ware whatever." — Hales. ^'^'^ Palisaded.
""^ Put out of practise.
232 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
There is yet behind of what I purposed to lay open, the
incredible loss, and detriment that this plot of licensing puts
us to, more than if some enemy at sea should stop up all
our havens and ports, and creeks, it hinders and retards the
importation of our richest merchandise, truth ; nay it was
first established and put into practise by antichristian malice
and mystery"* on set purpose to extinguish, if it were pos-
sible, the light of Reformation, and to settle falsehood ; little
differing from that policy wherewith the Turk upholds his
Alcoran, by the prohibition of printing. 'Tis not denied,
but gladly confessed, we are to send our thanks and vows to
heaven, louder than most of nations, for that great measure
of truth which we enjoy, especially in those main points be-
tween us and the pope, with his appurtenances the prelates :
but he who thinks we are to pitch our tent here, and have
attained the utmost prospect of reformation, that the mortal
glass wherein we contemplate, can show us, till we come to
beatific vision, that man by this very opinion declares, that
he is yet far short of truth.
Truth indeed came once into the world with her divine
master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to look on :
but when he ascended, and his apostles after him were laid
asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of deceivers, who as
that story goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his conspira-
tors, how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin
Truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and
scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever
since, the sad friends of Truth, such as dare appear, imi-
tating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled
body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb
still as they could find them. We have not yet found them
all. Lords and Commons, nor ever shall do, till her Master's
second coming; he shall bring together every joint and mem-
ber, and shall mold them into an immortal feature of loveli-
ness and perfection. Suft'er not these licensing prohibitions
to stand at every place of opportunity forbidding and dis-
turbing them that continue seeking, that continue to do our
obsequies to the torn body of our martyred saint. We boast
our light; but if we look not wisely on the sun itself, it
"* Trickery.
AREOPAGITICA 233
smites us into darkness. Who can discern those planets that
are oft Combiist^^" and those stars of brightest magnitude
that rise and set with the sun, until the opposite motion of
their orbs bring them to such a place in the firmament, where
they may be seen evening or morning. The light which we
have gained, was given us, not to be ever staring on, but by
it to discover onward things more remote from our knowl-
edge. It is not the unfrocking of a priest, the unmitering
of a bishop, and the removing him from off the Presbyterian
shoulders that will make us a happy nation, no, if other
things as great in the church, and in the rule of life both
economical and political be not looked into and reformed, we
have looked so long upon the blaze that Zuiiiglius and Calvin
hath beaconed up to us, that we are stark blind. There be
who perpetually complain of schisms and sects, and make it
such a calamity that any man dissents from their maxims.
'Tis their own pride and ignorance which causes the disturb-
ing, who neither will hear with meekness, nor can convince,
yet all must be suppressed which is not found in their
Syntagma.^^ They are the troublers, they are the dividers
of unity, who neglect and permit not others to unite those
dissevered pieces which are yet wanting to the body of Truth.
To be still searching what we know not, by what we know,
still closing up truth to truth as we find it (for all her body
is homogencal^'^ and proportional) this is the golden rule in
theology as well as in arithmetic, and makes up the best
harmony in a church ; not the forced and outward union of
cold, and neutral, and inwardly divided minds.
Lords and Commons of England, consider what nation it
is whereof ye are, and whereof ye are the governors : a nation
not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing
spirit, acute to invent, subtle and sinewy to discourse, not
beneath the reach of any point the highest that human ca-
pacity can soar to. Therefore the studies of learning in her
deepest sciences have been so ancient, and so eminent among
us, that writers of good antiquity, and ablest judgment have
been persuaded that even the school of Pythagoras, and the
Persian wisdom took beginning from the old philosophy of
1" Within 8Vi ° of the sun. ^-o Summary of doctrine.
^^ All made up of truth.
234 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
this island. And that wise and civiT"^ Roman, Julius Agri-
cola, who governed once here for Ccvsar, preferred the nat-
ural wits of Britain, before the labored studies of the French.
Nor is it for nothing that the grave and frugal Transilvanian
sends out yearly from as far as the mountainous borders of
Russia, and beyond the Hercynian^" wilderness, not their
youth, but their staid men, to learn our language, and our
theologic arts. Yet that which is above all this, the favor
and the love of heaven we have great argument to think in
a peculiar manner propitious and propending^'* toward us.
Why else was this nation chosen before any other, that out
of her as out of Sion should be proclaimed and sounded forth
the first tidings and trumpet of Reformation to all Europe.
And had it not been the obstinate perverseness of our
prelates against the divine and admirable spirit of Wyclif,
to suppress him as a schismatic and innovator, perhaps
neither the Bohemian Huss and Jerome, no nor the name
of Luther, or of Colvin had been ever known: the glory of
reforming all our neighbors had been completely ours.
But now, as our obdurate clergy have with violence de-
meaned'*^ the matter, we are become hitherto the latest and
the backwardest scholars, of whom God offered to have
made us the teachers. Now once again by all concurrence
of signs, and by the general instinct of holy and devout men,
as they daily and solemnly express their thoughts, God is
decreeing to begin some new and great period in his Church,
even to the reforming of Reformation itself: what does he
then but reveal Himself to his servants, and as his manner
is, first to his Englishmen ; I say as his manner is, first to
us, though we mark not the method of his counsels, and are
unworthy. Behold now this vast city ; a city of refuge, the
mansion house of liberty, encompassed and surrounded with
his protection; the shop of war hath not there more anvils
and hammers waking, to fashion out the plates and instru-
ments of armed justice in defense of beleaguered truth, than
there be pens and heads there, sitting by their studious
lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions and ideas
wherewith to present, as with their homage and their fealty
1=2 Cultivated. ^-^ Used of the German forests,
i--* Inclining. ^' Conducted.
AREOPAGITICA 23S
the approaching Reformation : others as fast reading, trying
all things, assenting to the force of reason and convince-
ment. What could a man require more from a nation so
pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge. What wants
there to such a towardly and pregnant soil, but wise and
faithful laborers, to make a knowing people, a nation of
prophets, of sages, and of worthies. We reckon more than
five months yet to harvest ; there need not be five weeks, had
we but eyes to lift up, the fields are white already. Where
there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much
arguing, much writing, many opinions ; for opinion in good
men is but knowledge in the making. Under these fan-
tastic^^ terrors of sect and schism, we wrong the earnest and
zealous thirst after knowledge and understanding which
God hath stirred up in this city. What some lament of, we
rather should rejoice at, should rather praise this pious for-
wardness among men, to reassume the ill deputed care of
their religion into their own hands again. A little gener-
ous prudence, a little forbearance of one another, and some
grain of charity might win all these diligences to join, and
unite in one general and brotherly search after truth ; could
we but forego this prelatical tradition of crowding free con-
sciences and Christian liberties into canons and precepts of
men. I doubt not, if some great and worthy stranger should
come among us, wise to discern the mold and temper of a
people, and how to govern it, observing the high hopes and
aims, the diligent alacrity of our extended'" thoughts and
reasonings in the persuance of truth and freedom, but that
he would cry out as Pyrrhus did, admiring the Roman do-
cility and courage, if such were my Epirots, I would not
despair the greatest design that could be attempted to make
a church or kingdom happy. Yet these are the men cried
out against for schismatics and sectarians; as if, while the
temple of the Lord was building, some cutting, some squar-
ing the marble, others hewing the cedars, there should be a
sort of irrational men who could not consider there must be
many schisms and many dissections made in the quarry and
in the timber, ere the house of God can be built. And when
every stone is laid artfully together, it can not be united into
1-' Imagina'Ty. i-^ Advanced.
236 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
a continuity, it can but be contiguous in this world; neither
can every piece of the building be of one form; nay rather
the perfection consists in this, that out of many moderate
varieties and brotherly dissimilitudes that are not vastly dis-
proportional arises the goodly and the graceful symmetry
that commends the whole pile and structure. Let us there-
fore be more considerate builders, more wise in spiritual
architecture, when great reformation is expected. For now
the time seems come, wherein Moses the great prophet may
sit in heaven rejoicing to see that memorable and glorious
wish of his fulfilled, when not only our seventy elders, but
all the Lord's people are become prophets. No marvel then
though some men, and some good men too perhaps, but
young in goodness, as Joshua then was, envy them. They
fret, and out of their own weakness are in agony, lest those
divisions and subdivisions will undo us. The adversary
again applauds, and waits the hour, when they have branched
themselves out, saith he, small enough into parties and parti-
tions, than will be our time. Fool ! he sees not the firm root,
out of which we all grow, though into branches : nor will
beware until he sees our small divided maniples^^ cutting
through at every angle of his ill united and unwieldly bri-
gade. And that we are to hope better of all these supposed
sects and schisms, and that we shall not need that solicitude
honest perhaps though over timorous of them that vex in his
behalf, but shall laugh in the end, at those malicious ap-
plauders of our differences, I have these reasons to per-
suade me.
First when a city shall be as it were besieged and blocked
about, her navigable river infested, inroads and incursions
round, defiance and battle oft rumored to be marching up
even to her walls, and suburb trenches, that then the people,
or the greater part, more than at other times, wholly taken
up with the study of highest and most important matters to
be reformed, should be disputing, reasoning, reading, in-
venting, discoursing, even to a rarity,*^ and admiration,
things not before discoursed or written of, argues first a
singular good will, contentedness and confidence in your
prudent foresight, and safe government. Lords and Com-
^^ Companies. ^^ Rare degree.
AREOPAGITICA 237
mons; and from thence derives itself"" to a gallant bravery
and well grounded contempt of their enemies, as if there
were no small number of as great spirits among us, as his
was, who when Rome was nigh besieged by Hannibal being
in the city, bought that piece of ground at no cheap rate,
whereon Hannibal himself encamped his own regiment.
Next it is a lively and cheerful presage of our happy success
and victory. For as in a body, when the blood is fresh, the
spirits pure and vigorous, not only to vital, but to rational
faculties, and those in the acutest, and the pertest"' opera-
tions of wit and subtlety, it argues in what good plight and
constitution the body is, so when the cheerfulness of the
people is so sprightly up, as that it has, not only wherewith
to guard well its own freedom and safety, but to spare, and
to bestow upon the solidest and sublimest points of contro-
versy, and new invention, it betoken us not degenerated, nor
drooping to a fatal decay, but casting off the old and
wrinkled skin of corruption to outlive these pangs and wax
young again, entering the glorious ways of truth and pros-
perous virtue destined to become great and honorable in
these latter ages. Methinks I see in my mind a noble and
puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep,
and shaking her invincible locks : Methinks I see her as an
eagle muing"" her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled
eyes at the full midday beam ; purging and unsealing her
long abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance,
while the whole noise"^ of timorous and flocking birds, with
those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at
what she means, and in their envious gabble would prog-
nosticate a year of sects and schisms.
What should ye do then, should ye suppress all this flowery
crop of knowledge and new light sprung up and yet spring-
ing daily in this city, should ye set an oligarchy of twenty
ingrossers"* over it, to bring a famine upon our minds again,
when we shall know nothing but what is measured to us by
their bushel? Believe it. Lords and Commons, they who
counsel ye to such a suppressing, do as good as bid ye
suppress yourselves; and I will soon show how. If it be
"» Flows on. "' Sprightliest. '•'''- Renewing (by moulting).
^^ Noisy band. "* Monopolists.
238 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
desired to know the immediate cause of all this free writing
and free speaking, there can not be assigned a truer than
your own mild, and free, and human government: it is the
liberty. Lords and Commons, which your own valorous and
happy counsels have purchased us, liberty which is the nurse
of all great wits ; this is that which hath rarified and en-
lightened our spirits like the influence of heaven ; this is
that which hath enfranchised, enlarged and lifted up our
apprehensions degrees above themselves. Ye can not make
us now less capable, less knowing, less eagerly pursuing of
the truth, unless ye first make yourselves, that made us so,
less the lovers, less the founders of our true liberty. We
can grow ignorant again, brutish, formal, and slavish, as ye
found us ; but ye then must first become that which ye
can not be, oppressive, arbitrary, and tyrannous, as they were
from whom ye have freed us. That our hearts are now more
capacious, our thoughts more erected to the search and ex-
pectation of great and exact things, is the issue of your
own virtue propagated in us ; ye can not suppress that un-
less ye reinforce an abrogated and merciless law, that fa-
thers may despatch at will their own children. And who shall
then stick closest to ye, and excite others ? not he who
takes up arms for cote and conduct,'*' and his four nobles of
Danegelt.'^^ Although I dispraise not the defense of just
immunities, yet love my peace better, if that were all. Give
me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely ac-
cording to conscience, above all liberties.
What would be best advised then, if it be found so hurt-
ful and so unequal to suppress opinions for the newness, or
the unsuitableness to a customary acceptance, will not be my
task to say ; I only shall repeat what I have learned from one
of your own honorable number, a right noble and pious lord,
who had he not sacrificed his life and fortunes to the church
and commonwealth, we had not now missed and bewailed a
worthy and undoubted patron of this argument. Ye know
him I am sure ; yet I for honor's sake, and may it be eternal
to him, shall name him, the Lord Brook. He writing of
episcopacy, and by the way treating of sects and schisms,
*^ /. e., to resist illegal taxation for clothing and conveying troops.
*^' I. e., ship-money. The references here are to those who took up arms
in the civil war rather than submit to the illegal taxes of Charles I.
AREOPAGITICA 239
left ye his vote, or rather now the last words of his dying
charge, which I know will ever be of dear and honored re-
gard with ye, so full of meekness and breathing charity,
that next to his last testament, who bequeathed love and
peace to his disciples, I can not call to mind where I have
read or heard words more mild and peaceful. He there ex-
horts us to hear with patience and humility those, however
they be miscalled, that desire to live purely, in such a use
of God's ordinances, as the best guidance of their conscience
gives them, and to tolerate them, though in some discon-
formity to ourselves. The book itself will tell us more at
large being published to the world, and dedicated to the
Parliament by him who both for his life and for his death
deserves, that what advice he left be not laid by without
perusal.
And now the time in special is, by privilege to write and
speak what may help to the further discussion of matters in
agitation. The temple of Janus with his two controversial
faces might now not unsignificantly be set open."' And
though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon
the earth, so truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licens-
ing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and
falsehood grapple ; who ever knew truth put to the worse, in
a free and open encounter. Her confuting is the best and
surest suppressing. He who hears what praying there is for
light and clearer knowledge to be sent down among us,
would think of other matters to be constituted beyond the
discipline of Geneva,"^ framed and fabricated already to our
hands. Yet when the new light which we beg for shines in
upon us, there be who envy, and oppose, if it come not first
in at their casements. What a collusion^ is this, whenas
we are exhorted by the wise man to use diligence, to seek
for wisdom as for hidden treasures early and late, that an-
other order shall enjoin us to know nothing but by statute.
When a man hath been laboring the hardest labor in the
deep mines of knowledge, hath furnished out his findings in
all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a battle
ranged, scattered and defeated all objections in his way, calls
out his adversary into the plain, offers him the advantage of
13' Indicating a time of war. w* The Presbyterian system.
240 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
wind and sun, if he please ; only that he may try the matter
by dint of argument, for his opponents then to skulk, to lay
ambushments, to keep a narrow bridge of licensing where
the challenger should pass, though it be valor enough in
soldiership, is but weakness and cowardice in the wars of
truth. For who knows not that truth is strong next to the
Almighty ; she needs no policies, no stratagems, no licensings
to make her victorious, those are the shifts and the defenses
that error uses against her power : give her but room, and
do not bind her when she sleeps, for then she speaks not
true, as the old Proteus did, who spake oracles only when he
was caught and bound, but then rather she turns herself into
all shapes, except her own, and perhaps tunes her voice ac-
cording to the time, as Micaiah did before Ahab, until she
be adjured into her own likeness. Yet is it not impossible
that she may have more shapes than one. What else is all
that rank of things indifferent, wherein truth may be on this
side, or on the other, without being unlike herself. What
but a vain shadow else is the abolition of those ordinances,
that handwriting nailed to the cross, what great purchase is
this Christian liberty which Paul so often boasts of. His
doctrine is, that he who eats or eats not, regards a day, or
regards it not, may do either to the Lord. How many other
things might be tolerated in peace, and left to conscience,
had we but charity, and were it not the chief stronghold
of our hypocrisy to be ever judging one another. I fear
yet this iron yoke of outward conformity hath left a slavish
print upon our necks ; the ghost of a linen decency"' yet
haunts us. We stumble and are impatient at the least di-
viding of one visible congregation from another, though it
be not in fundamentals; and through our forwardness to
suppress, and our backwardness to recover any enthralled
piece of truth out of the grip of custom, we care not to
keep truth separated from truth, which is the fiercest rent
and disunion of all. We do not see that while we still affect
by all means a rigid external formality, we may as soon fall
again into a gross conforming stupidity, a stark and dead
congealment of wood and hay and stubble forced and frozen
together, which is more to the sudden degenerating of a
139 Priestly vestments.
AREOPAGITICA 241
church than many subdichotomies^*° of petty schisms. Not
that I can think well of every light separation, or that all in a
church is to be expected gold and silver and precious stones:
it is not possible for man to sev^er the wheat from the tares,
the good fish from the other fry; that must be the angels'
ministry at the end of mortal things. Yet if all can not be
of one mind, as who looks they should be? this doubtless is
more wholesome, more prudent, and more Christian that
many be tolerated, rather than all compelled. I mean not
tolerated popery, and open superstition, which as it extirpates
all religions and civil supremacies, so itself should be
extirpated, provided first that all charitable and compassionate
means be used to win and regain the weak and misled : that
also which is impious or evil absolutely either against faith
or manners no law can possibly permit, that intends not
to unlaw itself: but those neighboring differences, or rather
indifferences, are what I speak of, whether in some point of
doctrine or of discipline, which though they may be many,
yet need not interrupt the unity of spirit, if we could but
find among us the bond of peace. In the meanwhile if any
one would write, and bring his helpful hand to the slow-mov-
ing reformation we labor under, if truth have spoken to him
before others, or but seemed at least to speak, whO' hath so
be-Jesuited'" us that we should trouble that man with asking
license to do so worthy a deed? and not consider this, that
if it come to prohibiting, there is not aught more likely to
be prohibited than truth itself ; whose first appearance to our
eyes bleared and dimmed with prejudice and custom, is more
unsightly and unplausible than many errors, even as the per-
son is of many a great man slight and contemptible to see to.
And what do they tell us vainly of new opinions, when this
very opinion of theirs, that none must be heard, but whom
they like, is the worst and newest opinion of all others ; and
is the chief cause why sects and schisms do so much abound,
and true knowledge is kept at distance from us ; besides yet
a greater danger which is in it. For when God shakes a
kingdom with strong and healthful commotions to a general
reforming, 'tis not untrue that many sectarians and false
teachers are then busiest in seducing; but yet more true it is,
1*0 Subdivisiors. »" Made Jesuits of.
?42 A SPEECH OF JOHN MILTON
that God then raises to his own work men o£ rare abiUties,
and more than common industry, not only to look back and
revise what hath been taught heretofore, but to gain further
and go on, some new enlightened steps in the discovery of
truth. For such is the order of God's enlightening his
church, to dispense and deal out by degrees his beam, so as
our earthly eyes may best sustain it. Neither is God ap-
pointed and confined, where and out of what place these his
chosen shall be first heard to speak ; for he sees not as man
sees, chooses not as man chooses. lest we should devote our-
selves again to set places, and assemblies, and outward call-
ings of men ; planting our faith one while in the old
convocation house,"^ and another while in the chapel at
Westminster ;^*^ when all the faith and religion that shall be
there canonized,"* is not sufficient without plain convince-
ment, and the charity of patient instruction to supple the
least bruise of conscience, to edify the meanest Christian,
who desires to walk in the spirit, and not in the letter of
human trust, for all the number of voices that can be there
made, no though Harry the Seventh himself there, with all his
liege tombs"^ about him, should lend them voices from the
dead, to swell their number. And if the men be erroneous
who appear to be the leading schismatics, what withholds
us but our sloth, our self-will, and distrust in the right
cause, that we do not give them gentle meetings and gentle
dismissions, that we debate not and examine the matter thor-
oughly with liberal and frequent audience; if not for their
sakes, yet for our own? seeing no man who hath tasted
learning, but will confess the many ways of profiting by
those who not contented with stale receipts are able to man-
age, and set forth new positions to the world. And were
they but as the dust and cinders of our feet, so long as in
that notion they may serve to polish and brighten the armor
of truth, even for that respect they were not utterly to be
cast away. But if they be of those whom God hath fitted
for the special use of these times wifli eminent and ample gifts,
and those perhaps neither among the priests, nor among
the Pharisees, and we in the haste of a precipitant zeal shall
I*' Where the Episcopal clergy met to legislate. '*^ Where the Presby«
terian divines drew up their Confession. i" Put into canons or rules.
145 j„ Westminster Abbey.
AREOPAGITICA 243
make no distinction, but resolve to stop their mouths, be-
cause we fear they come with new and dangerous opinions,
as we commonly forejudge them ere we understand them,
no less than woe to us, while thinking thus to defend the
gospel, we are found the persecutors.
There have been not a few since the beginning of this
Parliament, both of the presbytery and others who by their
unlicensed books to the contempt of an Imprimatur first
broke that triple ice clung about our hearts, and taught the
people to see day : I hope that none of those were the per-
suaders to renew upon us this bondage which they themselves
have wrought so much good by condemning. But if neither
the check that Moses gave to young Joshua, nor the counter-
mand which our Saviour gave to young John, who was so
ready to prohibit those whom he thought unlicensed, be not
enough to admonish our elders how unacceptable to God
their testy mood of prohibiting is. if neither their own re-
membrance what evil hath abounded in the church by this
let^" of licensing, and what good they themselves have
begun by transgressing it, be not enough, but that they will
persuade, and execute the most Dominican part of the In-
quisition over us. and are already with one foot in the
stirrup so active at suppressing, it would be no unequal dis-
tribution in the first place, to suppress the suppressors them-
selves ; whom the change of their condition hath puffed up,
more than their late experience of harder times hath made
wise.
And as for regulating the press, let no man think to have
the honor of advising ye better than yourselves have done
in that order published next before this, that no book be
printed, unless the printer's and the author's name, or at
least the printer's be registered. Those which otherwise
come forth, if they be found mischievous and libelous, the
fire and the executioner will be the timeliest and the most
effectual remedy, that man's prevention can use. For this
authentic Spanish policy of licensing books, if I have said
aught will prove the most unlicensed book itself within a
short while ; and was the immediate image of a star-chamber
decree to that purpose made in those very times when that
"' Hindrance.
244 AREOPAGITICA
court did the rest of those her pious works, for which she
is now fallen from the stars with Lucifer. Whereby you
may guess what kind of state prudence, what love of the
people, what care of religion, or good manners there was at
the contriving although with singular hypocrisy it pre-
tended to bind books to their good behavior. And how it
got the upper hand of your precedent order so well con-
stituted before, if we may believe those men whose pro-
fession gives them cause to inquire most, it may be doulDted
there was in it the fraud of some old patentees and monopo-
lizers in the trade of book-selling ; who under pretence of the
poor in their company not to be defrauded, and the just re-
taining of each man his several copy, which .God forbid
should be gainsaid, brought divers glozing colors"'' to the
house, which were indeed but colors, and serving to no end
except it be to exercise a superiority over their neighbors,
men who do not therefore labor in an honest profession to
which learning is indebted, that they should be made other
men's vassals. Another end is thought was aimed at by
some of them in procuring by petition this order, that hav-
ing power in their hands, malignant^*^ books might the easier
escape abroad, as the event shows. But of these sophisms
and clenchs of merchandise I skill not r^*" This I know, that
errors in a good government and in a bad are equally almost
incident -^"^ for what magistrate may not be misinformed, and
much the sooner, if liberty of printing be reduced into the
power of a few, but to redress willingly and speedily what
hath been erred, and in highest authority to esteem a plain
advertisement more than others have done a sumptuous bribe,
is a virtue (honored Lords and Commons) answerable to^^
your highest actions, and whereof none can participate but
greatest and wisest men.
"' Plausible pretexts. ''" Royalist. "^ I have no knowledge of these
tricks of trade and the exposure of them. ^^ Liable to occur.
""• Consistent with.
MILTON'S
TRACTATE ON EDUCATION
FROM THE EDITION OF 1673
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Mr. Samuel Hartlib, to whom the following letter was ad-
dressed, was the son of a Polish vierchant of German descent
and an Englush mother. He lived in London during a large part
of his life, and was actively interested in a vast number of educa-
tional and philanthropic schemes. It appears from the "Tractate"
itself that he had requested Milton to put into writing some of
the ideas on the education of a gentleman which they had from
time to time touched on in conversation; and the present treatise
is the result.
Beginning with the definition of a "complete and generous
education" as one "which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully,
and magnanimously all the offices, both public and private, of
peace and zvar," Milton proceeds to lay down a program which
is likely to startle the modern reader. The stress on Latin and
Greek at the beginning is easily accounted for by the fact that
in Milton's day these tongues were the only keys to the -store-
house of learning: but the casual way in which Chaldean and
Syrian are added to Hebrew seems to indicate that the author
tended to overestimate the ease with which the ordinary youth
acquires languages. But the mark of the -system here expounded
is that language is to be vierely a means, not an end; that things
and not words constitute the elements of education. Thus the
Greek and Latin authors prescribed are chosen for the value of
their subject matter, and provision is made for a comprehensive
knowledge of the science of the time, as well as for training in
religion and morals. The suggestions made for exercise have
the same practical and utilitarian tendency, fencing, wrestling,
and horsemanship being prescribed with a view to soldiership.
Nor are the arts neglected, for poetry and music are given their
place both (w recreation and as influences on character.
This is indeed, as Milton confesses, "not a bozv for every man
to shoot in"; but as an ideal it is rich in both stimulus and
practical suggestion.
OF EDUCATION
To Master Samuel Hartlib.
Mr. Hartlib,
I AM long since persuaded, that to say. or do aught worth
memory and imitation, no purpose or respect' should
sooner move us, than simply the love of God, and of
mankind. Nevertheless to write now the reforming of
education, though it be one of the greatest and noblest de-
signs that can be thought on, and for the want whereof this
nation perishes, I had not yet at this time been induced, but
by your earnest entreaties, and serious conjurements;* as
having my mind for the present half diverted in the pur-
suance of some other assertions," the knowledge and the
use of which, can not but be a great furtherance both to the
enlargement of truth, and honest living, with much more
peace. Nor should the laws of any private friendship have
prevailed with me to divide thus, or transpose* my former
thoughts, but that I see those aims, those actions which have
won you with me the esteem* of a person sent hither by
some good providence from a far country to be the occasion
and the incitement of great good to this island. And. as I
hear, you have obtained the same repute with men of most
approved wisdom, and some of highest authority among us.
Not to mention the learned correspondence which you hold
in foreign parts, and the extraordinary pains and diligence
which you have used in this matter both here, and beyond
the seas; either by the definite will of God so ruling, or the
peculiar sway of nature, which also is God's working.
Neither can I think that so reputed, and so valued as you
1 Consideration. -Appeals. 'As, e. g., unlicensed printing
and divorce. * Change. ° Reputation.
247
248 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
are, you would to the forfeit of your own discerning ability,
impose upon me an unfit and over-ponderous argument, but
that the satisfaction which you profess to have received
from those incidental discourses which we have wandered
into, hath pressed and almost constrained you into a per-
suasion, that what you require from me in this point, I
neither ought, nor can in conscience defer beyond this time
both of so much need at once, and so much opportunity to
try what God hath determined. I will not resist therefore,
whatever it is either of divine, or human obligement that
you lay upon me ; but will forthwith set down in writing, as
you request me, that voluntary Idea, which hath long in
silence presented itself to me, of a better education, in
extent and comprehension far more large, and yet of time
far shorter, and of attainment far more certain, than hath
been yet in practise.
Brief I shall endeavor to be ; for that which I have
to say, assuredly this nation hath extreme need should
be done sooner than spoken. To tell you therefore
what I have benefited herein among old renowned authors,
I shall spare; and to search what many modern Janiias^ and
Didactics* more than ever I shall read, have projected, my
inclination leads me not. But if you can accept of these few
observations which have flowered off, and are, as it were,
the burnishing' of many studious and contemplative years
altogether spent in the search of religious and civil knowl-
edge, and such as pleased you so well in the relating, I here
give you them to dispose of.
The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our first
parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that
knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to be like him, as
we may the nearest by possessing our souls of true virtue,
which being united to the heavenly grace of faith makes
up the highest perfection. But because our understanding
can not in this body found itself but on sensible* things, nor
arrive so clearly to the knowledge of God and things in-
visible, as by orderly conning over the visible and inferior
creature, the same method is necessarily to be followed in
• Works on education by John Amos Comenius, a great educational
reformer and a friend of Hartlib's.
' Fragments rubbed off in polishing, * Perceived by the senses.
OF EDUCATION 249
all discreet teaching. And seeing every nation affords not
experience and tradition enough for all kind of learning,
therefore we are chiefly taught the languages of those
people who have at any time been most industrious after
wisdom; so that language is but the instrument conveying
to us things useful to be known. And though a linguist
should pride himself to have all the tongues that Babel cleft
the world into, yet if he have not studied the solid things
in them as well as the words and lexicons, he were nothing
so much to be esteemed a learned man, as any yoeman or
tradesman competently wise in his mother dialect only. Hence
appear the many mistakes which have made learning gen-
erally so unpleasing and so unsuccessful ; first we do amiss to
spend seven or eight years merely in scraping together so
much miserable Latin and Greek, as might be learned other
wise easily and delightfully in one year. And that which
casts our proficiency therein so much behind, is our time
lost partly in too oft idle vacancies^ given both to schools
and universities, partly in a preposterous'" exaction, forcing
the empty wits of children to compose themes, verses and
orations, which are the acts of ripest judgment and the final
work of a head filled by long reading and observing, with
elegant maxims, and copious invention. These are not mat-
ters to be wrung from poor striplings, like blood out of the
nose, or the plucking of untimel}^ fruit: besides the ill habit
which they get of wretched barbarizing against the Latin
and Greek idiom, with their untotored Anglicisms, odious
to be read, yet not to be avoided without a well continued
and judicious conversing" among pure authors digested,
which they scarce taste, whereas, if after some preparatory
grounds of speech by their certain forms got into memory,
they were led to the praxis'^ thereof in some chosen short
books lessoned throughly to them, they might then forth-
with proceed to learn the substance of good things, and arts
in due order, which would bring the whole language quickly
into their power. This I take to be the most rational
and most profitable way of learning languages, and where-
by we may best hope to give account to God of our youth
* Holidays. ^^ Lit., in inverted order. " Familiar intercourse.
^ Practical application.
250 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
spent herein: and for the usual method of teaching arts, I
deem it to be an old error of universities not yet well re-
covered from the scholastic grossness of barbarous ages,
that instead of beginning with arts most easy, and those
be such as are most obvious to the sense, they present their
young unmatriculated novices at first coming with the most
intellective** abstractions of logic and metaphysics; so that
they having but newly left those grammatic flats and shal-
lows where they stuck unreasonably to learn a. few words
with lamentable construction, and now on the sudden trans-
ported under another climate to be tossed and turmoiled with
their unballasted wits in fathomless and unquiet deeps of con-
troversy, do for the most part grow into hatred and contempt
of learning, mocked and deluded all this while with ragged
notions and babblements, while they expected worthy and
delightful knowledge ; till poverty or youthful years call
them importunately their several ways, and hasten them with
the sway" of friends either to an ambitious and mercenary,
or ignorantly zealous divinity; some allured to the trade
of law, grounding their purposes not on the prudent and
heavenly contemplation of justice and equity which was never
taught them, but on the promising and pleasing thoughts of
litigious terms, fat contentions and flowing fees; others be-
take them to State affairs, with souls so unprincipled in
virtue and true generous breeding, that flattery, and court
shifts*^ and tyrannous aphorisms appear to them the highest
points of wisdom; instilling their barren hearts with a
conscientious slavery," if, as I rather think, it be not feigned.
Others lastly of a more delicious and airy spirit," retire
themselves knowing no better, to the enjoyments of ease
and luxury, living out their days in feast and jollity; which
indeed is the wisest and the safest course of all these, unless
they were with more integrity undertaken. And these are
the fruits of misspending our prime youth at the schools and
universities as we do, either in learning mere words or
such things chiefly, as were better unlearned.
I shall detain you no longer in the demonstration of what
we should not do, but straight conduct ye to a hill side where
"Intellectual. ** Influence. '^ Tricks. i* A slavery which they
try to believe conscientious. " Delicate and spiritual nature.
OF EDUCATION 251
I will point ye out the right path of a virtuous and noble
education ; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so
smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious
sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus^^ was not
more charming. I doubt not but ye shall have more ado
to drive our dullest and laziest youth, our stocks and stubs
from the infinite desire of such a happy nurture, than we
have not to hale and drag our choicest and hopefulest wits
to that asinine feast of sowthistles and brambles which is
commonly set before them, as all the food and entertainment
of their tenderest and most docible" age. I call therefore
a complete and generous education that which fits a man
to perform justly, skilfully and magnanimously all the offices
both private and public, of peace and war. And how all
this may be done between twelve, and one and twenty, less
time than is now bestowed in pure trifling at grammar and
sophistry, is to be thus ordered.
First to find out a spacious house and ground about it fit
for an academy, and big enough to lodge a hundred and
fifty persons, whereof twenty or thereabout may be attend-
ants, all under the government of one, who shall be thought
of desert sufficient, and ability either to do all, or wisely to
direct, and oversee it done. This place should be at once
both school and university, not heeding a remove to any
other house of scholarship, except it be some peculiar Col-
lege of Law, or Physic, where they mean to be practitioners ;
but as for those general studies which take up all our time
from Lilly'" to the commencing,^^ as they term it, Master of
Art, it should be absolute. After this pattern, as many Edi-
fices may be converted to this use, as shall be needful in
every city throughout this land, which would tend much to
the increase of learning and civility everywhere. This
number, less or more thus collected, to the convenience of a
foot company, or interchangeably two troops of cavalry,
should divide their day's work into three parts, as it lies
orderly. Their studies, their exercise, and their diet.
For the studies, first they should begm with the chief and
necessary rules of some good grammar, either that now
1* Which charmed even trees and stones. ^* Docile.
-" Lilly's " Latin Primer." -i Graduation.
2S2 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
used, or any better: and while this is doing, their speech is
to be fashioned to a distinct and clear pronunciation, as near
as may be to the Italian, especially in the vowels. For we
Englishmen being far northerly, do not open our mouths in
the cold air, wide enough to grace a southern tongue; but
are observed by all other nations to speak exceeding close
and inward : So that to smatter Latin with an English
mouth, is as ill a hearing as Law-French. Next to make
them expert in the usefulest points of grammar, and withal
to season"^ them, and win them early to the love of virtue
and true labor, ere any flattering seducement, or vain prin-
ciple seize them wandering, some easy and delightful book of
education would be read to them ; whereof the Greeks have
store, as Cebes^ Plutarch^*' and other Socratic discourses.
But in Latin we have none of classic authority extant, ex-
cept the two or three first books of QuintiUan^ and some
select pieces elsewhere. But here the main skill and ground-
work will be, to temper^ them such lectures and explanations
upon every opportunity as may lead and draw them in willing
obedience, inflamed with the study of learning, and the ad-
miration of virtue ; stirred up with high hopes of living to be
brave men, and worthy patriots, dear to God, and famous to
all ages. That they may despise and scorn all their childish,
and ill-taught qualities, to delight in manly, and liberal exer-
cises: which he who hath the art, and proper eloquence to
catch them with, what with mild and effectual persuasions,
and what with the intimation of some fear, if need be, but
chiefly by his own example, might in a short space gain
them to an incredible diligence and courage : infusing into
their young breasts such an ingenuous and noble ardor, as
would not fail to make many of them renowned and match-
less men. At the same time, some other hour of the day,
might be taught them the rules of arithmetic, and soon after
the elements of geometry even playing, as the old manner
was. After evening repast, till bed-time their thoughts will
be best taken up in the easy grounds of religion, and the
story of Scripture. The next step would be to the authors
on agriculture, Cato, Varro, and Columella, for the matter is
^ Imbue. " A disciple of Socrates, to whom was ascribed a book on
the cultivation of virtue. ^ Author of the famous " Lives." He lived
about 100 A. D. **The Latin rhetorician, b. 42 a. d. ^» Adept.
OF EDUCATION 253
most easy, and if the language be difficult, so much the better,
it is not a difficulty above their years. And here will be an
occasion of inciting and enabling them hereafter to improve
the tillage of their country, to recover the bad soil, and to
remedy the waste that is made of good ; for this was one of
Hercules' praises. Ere half these authors be read (which
will soon be with plying" hard, and daily) they can not choose
but be masters of any ordinary prose.'* So that it will be
then seasonable for them to learn in any modern author, the
use of the globes, and all the maps ; first with the old names,
and then with the new : or they might be then capable to
read any compendious method of natural philosophy. And
at the same time might be entering into the Greek tongue,
after the same manner as was before prescribed in the Latin ;
whereby the difficulties of grammar being soon overcome,
all the historical physiology of Aristotle and Thcophrastus^
are open before them, and as I may say, under contribution.
The like access will be to Vitriiz'iusf" to Seneca's natural
questions,^^ to Mcla^ Celsus^ Pliny ^ or Solinits!^ And hav-
ing thus passed the principles of arithmetic, geometry,
astronomy , and geography with a general compact of phys-
ics, they may descend in mathematics to the instrumental
science of trigonometry and from thence to fortification,
architecture, engineering, or navigation. And in natural
philosophy they may proceed leisurely from the history of
meteors, minerals, plants and living creatures as far as
anatomy. Then also in course might be read to them out of
some not tedious writer the institution of physic ; that they
may know the tempers,^^ the humors,^* the seasons, and how
to manage a crudity f^ which he who can wisely and timely
do. is not only a great physician to himself, and to his friends,
but also may at some time or other, save an army by this
frugal and expenseless means only; and not let the healthy
and stout bodies of young men rot away under him for want
of this discipline; which is a great pity, and no less a shame
to the commander. To set forward all these proceedings in
*" Applying themselves. ^ I. e., Latin prose. *• A pupil of Aristotles.
^ On architecture. *^ On physics. ^ On geography. ^ On medicine.
^* On natural history. ^ An abridgement of Pliny. ^* The temperament
was supposed to be due to the predominance of one of the four humors
in the body. '' Indigestion.
254 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
nature and mathematics, what hinders, but that they may
procure, as often as shall be needful, the helpful experiences
of hunters, fowlers, fishermen, shepherds, gardeners, apothe-
caries; and in the other sciences, architects, engineers, mari-
ners, anatomists ; who doubtless would be ready some for re-
ward, and some to favor such a hopeful seminary. And this
will give them such a real tincture of natural knowledge, as
they shall never forget, but daily augment with delight. Then
also those poets which are now counted most hard, will be
both facile and pleasant, Orpheus, Hesiod, Theocritus, Arains,
Nicander, Oppian, Dionysins, and in Latin Lucretius, Mani-
lius, and the rural part of Virgil.
By this time, years and good general precepts will have
furnished them more distinctly with that act of reason which
in ethics is called proaircsis^ that they may with some judg-
ment contemplate upon moral good and evil. Then will be
required a special reenforcement of constant and sound
indoctrinating to set them right and firm, instructing them
more amply in the knowledge of virtue and the hatred of
vice: while their young and pliant affections are led through
all the moral works of Plato, Xenophon, Cicero, Plutarch,
Laertius"" and those Locrian remnants;** but still to be re-
duced" in their nightward studies wherewith they close the
day's work, under the determinate" sentence of David or
Solomon, or the evanges" and apostolic scriptures. Being
perfect in the knowledge of personal duty, they may then
begin the study of economics. And either now, or before
this, they may have easily learned at any odd hour the
Italian tongue. And soon after, but with wariness and good
antidote, it would be wholesome enough to let them taste
some choice comedies, Greek, Latin, or Italian : Those
tragedies also that treat of household matters, as Trachiniae,"
Alcestis" and the like. The next remove must be to the
study of politics ; to know the beginning, end, and reasons
of political societies ; that they may not in a dangerous fit
of the commonwealth be such poor, shaken, uncertain reeds,
of such a tottering conscience, as many of our great coun-
selors have lately shown themselves, but steadfast pillars of
** The choice between good and evil. '* Diogenes Laertius, who wrote
a history of philosophy. *" Ascribed to Tim.-eus. *' Brought back.
" Authoritative. " Gospels. " By Sophocles. " By Euripides.
OF EDUCATION 255
the state. After this they are to dive into the ground of
law and legal justice; delivered first, and w^ith best warrant
by Moses; and as far as human prudence can be trusted, in
those extolled remains of Grecian lawgivers, Lycnrgiis.
Solon, Zalcucus, Charoudas,*' and thence to all the Roman
edicts and tables with their Justinian; and so down to the
Saxon and common laws of England, and the statutes. Sun-
days also and every evening may be now understandingly
spent in the highest matters of theology, and church history
ancient and modern : and ere this time the Hebrew tongue
at a set hour might have been gained, that the Scriptures
may be now read in their own original ; whereto it would be
no impossibility to add the Chaldey," and the Syrian*^ dialect.
\\'hen all these employments are well conquered, then will
the choice histories, heroic poems, and Attic tragedies of
stateliest and most regal argument, with all the famous po-
litical orations offer themselves ; which if they were not only
read ; but some of them got by memory, and solemnly pro-
nounced with right accent, and grace, as might be taught,
would endow them even with the spirit and vigor of De-
mosthenes or Cicero, Euripides, or Sophocles. And now
lastly will be the time to read with them those organic** arts
which enable men to discourse and write perspicuously, ele-
gantly, and according to the fitted style of lofty, mean, or
lowly. Logic therefore so much as is useful, is to be re-
ferred to this due place with all her well couched'" heads and
topics, until to be time to open her contracted palm into a
graceful and ornate rhetoric taught out of the rule of Plato,
Aristotle, Phalereus, Cicero, Hermogenes, Longinus. To
which poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather
precedent, as being less subtle and fine, but more simple, sen-
suous and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of a
verse, which they could not have hit on before among
the rudiments of grammar ; but that sublime art which in
Aristotle's Poetics, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries
of Castelvetro, Tasso, Mazzoni, and others, teaches what the
laws are of a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a
*• Lawgivers respectively to Sparta, Athens, the Locrians in southern Italy,
and certain cities in Sicily *' Chaldean, a language akin to Hebrew.
** Aramaic, the language of Palestine in the time of Christ.
** Practical. " Arranged.
256 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
lyric, what decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to
observe. This would make them soon perceive what des-
picable creatures our common rimers and playwriters be,
and show them, what religious, what glorious and magnifi-
cent use might be made of poetry both in divine and human
things. From hence and not till now will be the right
season of forming them to be able writers and composers in
every excellent matter, when they shall be thus fraught with
an universal insight into things. Or whether they be to
speak in Parliament or council, honor and attention would
be waiting on their lips. There would then also appear in
pulpits other visages, other gestures, and stuff otherwise
wrought than what we now sit under, ofttimes to as great
a trial of our patience as any other that they preach to us.
These are the studies wherein our noble and our gentle
youth ought to bestow their time in a disciplinary way from
twelve to one and twenty; unless they rely more upon their
ancestors dead, than upon themselves living. In which
methodical course it is so supposed they must proceed by the
steady pace of learning onward, as at convenient times for
memories' sake to retire back into the middle ward,^^ and
sometimes into the rear of what they have been taught,
until they have confirmed, and solidly united the whole body
of their perfected knowledge, like the last embattling of a
Roman legion. Now will be worth the seeing what exercises
and recreations may best agree, and become these studies.
Their Exercise.
The course of study hitherto briefly described, is, what
I can guess by reading, likest to those ancient and famous
schools of Pythagoras, Plato, Isocrates, Aristotle and such
others, out of which were bred up such a number of re-
nowned philosophers, orators, historians, poets and princes
all over Greece, Italy, and Asia, besides the flourishing
studies of Cyrene and Alexandria. But herein it shall ex-
ceed them, and supply a defect as great as that which Plato
noted in the commonwealth of Sparta, whereas that city
trained up their youth most for war, and these in their Acad-
" Center.
OF EDUCATION 257
emies and Lyceum, all for the gown,^" this institution of
breeding which I here delineate, shall be equally good both
for peace and war. Therefore about an hour and a half ere
they eat at noon should be allowed them for exercise and
due rest afterward: but the time for this may be enlarged
at pleasure, according as their rising in the morning shall
be early. The exercise which I commend first, is the exact
use of their weapon, to guard and to strike safely with
edge, or point ; this will keep them healthy, nimble, strong,
and well in breath, is also the likeliest means to make them
grow large and tall, and to inspire them with a gallant and
fearless courage, which being tempered with seasonable lec-
tures and precepts to them of true fortitude and patience,
will turn into a native and heroic valor, and make them
hate the cowardice of doing wrong. They must be also
practised in all the locks and grips of wrestling, wherein
Englishmen were wont to excel, as need may often be in
fight to tug or grapple, and to close. And this perhaps will
be enough, wherein to prove and heat their single strength.
The interim of unsweating^ themselves regularly, and con-
venient rest before meat may both with profit and delight
be taken up in recreating and composing their travailed"
spirits with the solemn and divine harmonies of music heard
or learned; either while the skilful organist plies his grave
and fancied descant, in lofty fugues, or the whole symphony
with artful and unimaginable touches adorn and grace the
well studied chords of some choice composer, sometimes the
lute, or soft organ stop waiting on elegant voices either to
religious, martial, or civil ditties ; which if wise men and
prophets be not extremely out,^^ have a great power over dis-
positions and manners, to smooth and make them gentle
from rustic harshness and distempered passions. The like
also would not be unexpedient after meat to assist and
cherish Nature in her first concoction.^* and send their minds
back to study in good tune and satisfaction. Where having
followed it closer under vigilant eyes till about two hours
before supper, they are by a sudden alarum or watchword,
to be called out to their military motions, under sky or
*• Civil life. " Cooling off. ^ Tired with exercise. ^ Mistaken.
HCIII ^"Digestion. ^
2S8 TRACTATE OF JOHN MILTON
covert, according to the season, as was the Roman wont:
first on foot, then as their age permits, on horseback, to
all the art of cavalry ; that having in sport, but with much
exactness, and daily muster, served out the rudiments of
their soldiership in all the skill of embattling, marching,
encamping, fortifying, besieging and battering, with all the
helps of ancient and modern stratagems, tactics and warlike
maxims, they may as it were out of a long war come forth
renowned and perfect commanders in the service of their
country. They would not then, if they were trusted with
fair and hopeful armies, suffer them for want of just and
wise discipline to shed away from about them like sick
feathers, though they never so oft supplied: they would
not suffer their empty and unrecruitable^' colonels of twenty
men in a company to quaff out,°^ or convey.^" into secret
hoards, the wages of a delusive list, and a miserable rem-
nant: yet in the meanwhile to be overmastered with a score
or two of drunkards, the only soldiery left about them, or
else to comply with all rapines and violences. No certainly,
if they knew aught of that knowledge that belongs to good
men or good governors, they would not suffer these things.
But to return to our own institute, besides these constant
exercises at home, there is another opportunity of gaining
experience to be won from pleasure itself abroad; in those
vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant,
it were an injury and suUenness against nature not to go
out, and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with
heaven and earth. I should not therefore be a persuader to
them of studying much then, after two or three years that
they have well laid their grounds, but to ride out in com-
panies with prudent and staid guides, to all the quarters of
the land : learning and observing all places of strength, all
commodities'" of building and of soil, for towns and tillage,
harbors and ports for trade. Sometimes taking sea as far
as to our navy, to learn there also what they can in the
practical knowledge of sailing and of sea-fight. These ways
would try all their peculiar gifts of nature, and if there were
any secret excellence among them, would fetch it out, and
^^ Unable to enlist recruits. ^* Spend in drinking.
^^ Steal. "" Advantages.
OF EDUCATION 259
give it fair opportunities to advance itself by, which could
not but mightily redound to the good of this nation, and
bring into fashion again those old admired virtues and ex-
cellencies, with far more advantage now in this purity of
Christian knowledge. Nor shall we then need the monsieurs
of Paris, to take our hopeful youth into their slight"' and
prodigal custodies and send them over back again trans-
formed into mimics, apes, and kickshaws. But if they desire
to see other countries at three or four and twenty years of
age, not to learn principles but to enlarge experience, and
make wise observation, they. will by that time be such as
shall deserve the regard and honor of all men where they
pass, and the society and friendship of those in all places
who are best and most eminent. And perhaps then other
nations will be glad to visit us for their breeding, or else to
imitate us in their own country.
Now lastly for their diet there can not be much to say,
save only that it would be best in the same house ; for much
time else would be lost abroad, and many ill habits got; and
that it should be plain, healthful, and moderate I suppose is
out of controversy. Thus Mr. Hartlib, you have a general
view in writing, as your desire was, of that which at several
times I had discoursed with you concerning the best and
noblest way of education ; not beginning as some have done
from the cradle, which yet might be worth many considera-
tions, if brevity had not been my scope, many other circum-
stances also I could have mentioned, but this to such as have
the worth in them to make trial, for light and direction may
be enough. Only I believe that this is not a bow for every
man to shoot in that counts himself a teacher ; but will
require sinews almost equal to those which Homer gave
Ulysses, yet I am withal persuaded that it may prove much
more easy in the assay,"" than it now seems at distance, and
much more illustrious: howbeit not more difficult than I
imagine, and that imagination presents me with nothing but
very happy and very possible according to best wishes; if
God have so decreed, and this age have spirit and capacity
enough to apprehend.
61 Evil. 02 Attempt,
RELIGIO MEDICI
BY
SIR THOMAS BROWNE
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Sir Thomas Browne ixias born in London on October 19,
1603, educated at JVinchcstcr and Oxford, and trained for the
practise of medicine. After traveling on the Continent he finally
■settled as a physician in Norwich, and enjoyed a distinguished
professional reputation. Later he became equally famous as
a scholar and antiquary, and was knighted by Charles II on the
occasion of the King's visit to Norwich in 1671. In 1641 he mar-
ried, and he was survived by four of his ten children. He died
on his seventy-seventJi birthday.
His "Religio Medici " seems to have been written about 1635,
"without being intended for publication. In 1642, hozvever, two
surreptitious editions appeared, and he was induced by the in-
accuracies of these to issue an authorised edition in 1643. Since
that time between thirty and forty editions have appeared, and
the work has been translated into Latin, Dutch, French, Ger-
man, and Italian. Of his other works the most famous are
"Pseudodoxia Epidemica, or Enquiries into Vulgar Errors"
(1646), a treatise of vast learning and much entertainment ;
"Hydriotaphia, or Urn Burial," a discourse on burial customs,
zvhich closes with a chapter on death and immortality, the
majestic eloquence of zvhich places Browne in the first rank of
writers of English prose; and "The Garden of Cyrus," a fan-
tastic account of horticulture from the Garden of Eden down
to the time of Cyrus, King of Persia, with much discussion on
the mystical significations of the number five. His miscellaneous
writings cover a great variety of subjects, religious, scientific,
and antiquarian.
The "Religio Medici" is an excellent typical example of the
author's style. At once obscured and enriched by his individual
and sometimes far-fetched vocabulary, his full and sonorous
periods remain the delight of readers with an ear for the
cadences of English prose. The matter of the book also reveals
a personality of great charm and humor, a mind at once sur-
prisingly acute and surprisingly credulous, and a character of
an exalted nobility.
TO THE READER
Certainly that man were greedy of Life, who should desire
to live when all the world were at an end ; and he must needs
be very impatient, who would repine at death in the society of
all things that suffer under it. Had not almost every man
suffered by the Press, or were not the tyranny thereof become
universal, I had not wanted reason for complaint : but in times
wherein I have lived to behold the highest perversion of that
excellent invention, the name of his Majesty defamed, the
Honour of Parliament depraved, the Writings of both depravedlj%
anticipativel}^ counterfeitly imprinted ; complaints may seem
ridiculous in private persons; and men of my condition may
be as incapable of affronts, as hopeless of their reparations.
And truely, had not the duty I owe unto the importunity of
friends, and the allegiance I must ever acknowledge unto truth,
prevailed with me, the inactivity of my disposition might have
made these sufferings continual, and time, that brings other
things to light, should have satisfied me in the remedy of its
oblivion. But because things evidently false are not onely
printed, but many things of truth most falsly set forth, in this
latter I could not but think my self engaged : for, though we
have no power to redress the former, yet in the other the repara-
tion being within our selves, I have at present represented
unto the world a full and intended Copy of that Piece, which
was most imperfectly and surreptitiously published before.
This, I confess, about seven years past, with some others of
affinity thereto, for my private exercise and satisfaction, I had
at leisurable hours composed ; which being communicated unto
one, it became common unto many, and was by Transcription
successively corrupted, untill it arrived in a most depraved Copy
at the Press. He that shall peruse that work, and shall take notice
of sundry particularities and personal expressions therein, will
easily discern the intention was not publick; and, being a private
Exercise directed to my self, what is delivered therein, was
rather a memorial unto me, than an Example or Rule unto any
263
264 TO THE READER
other; and therefore, if there be any singularity therein corre-
spondent unto the private conceptions of any man, it doth not
advantage them; or if dissentaneous^ thereunto, it no way over-
throws them. It was penned in such a place, and with such
disadvantage, that, (I protest,) from the first setting of pen
unto paper, I had not the assistance of any good Book whereby
to promote my invention or relieve my memory ; and therefore
there might be many real lapses therein, which others might
take notice of, and more that I suspected my self. It was set
down many years past, and was the sense of my conceptions
at that time, not an immutable Law unto my advancing judge-
ment at all times ; and therefore there might be many things
therein plausible unto my passed apprehension, which are not
agreeable unto my present self. There are many things de-
livered Rhetorically, many expressions therein meerly Tropical,
and as they best illustrate my intention; and therefore also
there are many things to be taken in a soft and flexible sense,
and not to be called unto the rigid test of Reason. Lastly, all
that is contained therein is in submission unto maturer discern-
ments; and, as I have declared, shall no further father them
than the best and learned judgments shall authorize them: under
favour of which considerations I have made its secrecy publick,
and committed the truth thereof to every Ingenuous Reader.
THO. BROWNE.
* Not in accordance.
RELTGIO MEDICI
THE FIRST PART
FOR my Religion, though there be several Circumstances
that might perswade the World I have none at all, (as
the general scandal of my Profession.'' the natural
course of my Studies, the indifferency of my Behaviour and
Discourse in matters of Religion, neither violently Defend-
ing one, nor with that common ardour and contention Op-
posing another;) yet, in despight hereof, I dare without
usurpation assume the honourable Stile of a Christian. Not
that I meerly owe this Title to the Font, my Education, or
the clime wherein I was born, (as being bred up either to
confirm those Principles my Parents instilled into my un-
wary Understanding, or by a general consent proceed in the
Religion of my Country;) but having in my riper years and
confirmed Judgment seen and examined all, I find my self
obliged by the Principles of Grace, and the Law of mine own
Reason, to embrace no other Name but this. Neither doth
herein my zeal so far make me forget the general Charity I
owe unto Humanity, as rather to hate than pity Turks, Infi-
dels, and (what is worse,) Jews; rather contenting my self to
enjoy that happy Stile, than maligning those who refuse so
glorious a Title.
II. But, because the Name of a Christian is become too gen-
eral to express our Faith, (there being a Geography of Re-
ligions as well as Lands, and every Clime distinguished not
only by their Laws and Limits, but circumscribed by their
Doctrines and Rules of Faith;) to be particular, I am of that
Reformed new-cast Religion, wherein I dislike nothing but
the Name ; of the same belief our Saviour taught, the Apos-
' Cf. the saying, "Among three physicians, two atheists."
265
266 THOMAS BROWNE
ties disseminated, the Fathers authorized, and the Martyrs
confirmed ; but by the sinister ends of Princes, the ambition
and avarice of Prelates, and the fatal corruption of times, so
decayed, impaired, and fallen from its native Beauty, that it
required the careful and charitable hands of these times to
restore it to its primitive Integrity. Now the accidental oc-
casion whereupon, the slender means whereby, the low and
abject condition of the Person" by whom so good a work was
set on foot, which in our Adversaries beget contempt and
scorn, fills me with wonder, and is the very same Objection
the insolent Pagans first cast at Christ and His Disciples.
III. Yet have I not so shaken hands with those desperate
Resolutions,* (who had rather venture at large their decayed
bottom, than bring her in to be new trimm'd in the Dock ;
who had rather promiscuously retain all, than abridge any,
and obstinately be what they are, than what they have been,)
as to stand in Diameter^ and Swords point with them. We
have reformed from them, not against them; for (omitting
those Improperations* and Terms of Scurrility betwixt us,
which only difference our Affections, and not our Cause,)
there is between us one common Name and Appellation, one
Faith and necessary body of Principles common to us both ;
and therefore I am not scrupulous to converse and live with
them, to enter their Churches in defect of ours, and either
pray with them, or for them. I could never perceive any
rational Consequence from those many Texts which prohibit
the Children of Israel to pollute themselves with the Temples
of the Heathens ; we being all Christians, and not divided by
such detested impieties as might prophane our Prayers, or
the place wherein we make them; or that a resolved Con-
science may not adore her Creator any where, especially in
places devoted to His Service ; where, if their Devotions
offend Him, mine may please Him; if theirs prophane it,
mine may hallow it. Holy- water and Crucifix (dangerous to
common people,) deceive not my judgment, nor abuse my
devotion at all. I am, I confess, naturally inclined to that
which misguided Zeal terms Superstition. My common con-
versation" I do acknowledge austere, my behaviour full of
8 Probably Luther is meant. * Pcr-^ons who have resolved,
s Direct opposition. "^ Taunts, " Planner of life.
RELIGIO MEDICI 287
rigour, sometimes not without morosity ; yet at my Devotion
1 love to use the civihty of my knee, my hat, and hand, with
all those outward and sensible motions which may express or
promote my invisible Devotion. I should violate my own arm
rather than a Church ; nor willingly deface the name of Saint
or Martyr. At the sight of a Cross or Crucifix I can dis-
pense with my hat, but scarce with the thought or memory
of my Saviour. I cannot laugh at, but rather pity, the fruit-
less journeys of Pilgrims, or contemn the miserable condi-
tion of Fryars; for, though misplaced in Circumstances,
there is something in it of Devotion. I could never hear
the Ave-Mary Bell without an elevation ; or think it a suf-
ficient warrant, because they erred in one circumstance, for
me to err in all, that is, in silence and dumb contempt.
Whilst, therefore, they directed their Devotions to Her, I
offered mine to God, and rectified the Errors of their Prayers
by rightly ordering mine own. At a solemn Procession I
have wept abundantly, while my consorts, blind with opposi-
tion and prejudice, have fallen into an excess of scorn and
laughter. There are, questionless, both in Greek, Roman,
and African Churches, Solemnities and Ceremonies, whereof
the wiser Zeals do make a Christian use, and stand con-
demned by us, not as evil in themselves, but as allurements
and baits of superstition to those vulgar heads that look
asquint on the face of Truth, and those unstable Judgments
that cannot consist in the narrow point and centre of Virtue
without a reel or stagger to the Circumference.
IV. As there were many Reformers, so likewise many Ref-
ormations ; every Country proceeding in a particular way and
method, according as their national Interest, together with
their Constitution and Clime, inclined them; some angrily,
and with extremity; others calmly, and with mediocrity; not
rending, but easily dividing the community, and leaving an
honest possibility of a reconciliation ; which though peace-
able Spirits do desire, and may conceive that revolution of
time and the mercies of God may effect, yet that judgment
that shall consider the present antipathies between the two
extreams, their contrarieties in condition, affection, and opin-
ion, may with the same hopes expect an union in the Poles of
Heaven.
268 THOMAS BROWNE
V. But (to difference my self nearer, and draw into a
lesser Circle.) there is no Church whose every part so squares
unto my Conscience ; whose Articles, Constitutions, and Cus-
toms seem so consonant unto reason, and as it were framed
to my particular Devotion, as this whereof I hold my Belief,
the Church of England; to whose Faith I am a sworn Sub-
ject, and therefore in a double Obligation subscribe unto her
Articles, and endeavour to observe her Constitutions. What-
soever is beyond, as points indifferent, I observe according
to the rules of my private reason, or the humor and fashion
of my Devotion ; neither believing this, because Luther af-
firmed it, or disproving that, because Calvin hath disa-
vouched it. I condemn not all things in the Council of
Trent, nor approve all in the Synod of Dort. In brief, where
the Scripture is silent, the Church is my Text ; where that
speaks, 'tis but my Comment: where there is a joynt silence
of both, I borrow not the rules of my Religion from Rome
or Geneva, but the dictates of my own reason. It is an un-
just scandal of our adversaries, and a gross errour in our
selves, to compute the Nativity of our Religion from Henry
the Eighth, who, though he rejected the Pope, refus'd not
the faith of Rome, and effected no more than what his own
Predecessors desired and assayed in Ages past, and was con-
ceived the State of Venice would have attempted in our days.
It is as uncharitable a point in us to fall upon those popular
scurrilities and opprobrious scoffs of the Bishop of Rome, to
whom, as a temporal Prince, we owe the duty of good lan-
guage. I confess there is cause of passion between us : by
his sentence I stand excommunicated; Heretick is the best
language he affords me; yet can no ear witness I ever re-
turned him the name of Antichrist, Man of Sin, or Whore of
Babylon. It is the method of Charity to suffer without re-
action: those usual Satyrs and invectives of the Pulpit may
perchance produce a good effect on the vulgar, whose ears
are opener to Rhetorick than Logick ; yet do they in no wise
confirm the faith of wiser Believers, who know that a good
cause needs not to be patron'd by passion, but can sustain
itself upon a temperate dispute.
VI. I could never divide myself from any man upon the
difference of an opinion, or be angry with his judgment for
RELIGIO MEDICI 269
not agreeing with me in that from which perhaps within a
few days I should dissent my self. I have no Genius to dis-
putes in Religion, and have often thought it wisdom to de-
cline them, especially upon a disadvantage, or when the
cause of Truth might suffer in the weakness of my patron-
age. Where we desire to be informed, 'tis good to contest
with men above our selves; but to confirm and establish our
opinions, 'tis best to argue with judgments below our own,
that the frequent spoils and Victories over their reasons may
settle in ourselves an esteem and confirmed Opinion of our
own. Every man is not a proper Champion for Truth, nor
fit to take up the Gauntlet in the cause of Verity: many
from the ignorance of these Maximes, and an inconsiderate
Zeal unto Truth, have too rashly charged the Troops of
Error, and remain as Trophies unto the enemies of Truth.
A man may be in as just possession of Truth as of a City,
and yet be forced to surrender ; 'tis therefore far better to
enjoy her with peace, than to hazzard her on a battle. If,
therefore, there rise any doubts in my way, I do forget them,
or at least defer them till my better setled judgement and
more manly reason be able to resolve them ; for I perceive
every man's own reason is his best CEdipus, and will, upon a
reasonable truce, find a way to loose those bonds where-
with the subtleties of error have enchained our more flexible
and tender judgements. In Philosophy, where Truth seems
double-fac'd, there is no man more Paradoxical than my self :
but in Divinity I love to keep the Road ; and, though not in
an implicite, yet an humble faith, follow the great wheel of
the Church, by which I move, not reserving any proper Poles
or motion from the Epicycle^ of my own brain. By this
means I leave no gap for Heresies, Schismes, or Errors, of
which at present I hope I shall not injure Truth to say T
have no taint or tincture. I must confess my greener studies
have been polluted with two or three ; not any begotten in
the latter Centuries, but old and obsolete, such as could never
have been revived, but by such extravagant and irregular
heads as mine: for indeed Heresies perish not with their
Authors, but, like the river Arethusa, though they lose their
currents in one place, they rise up again in another. One
* Astronomy, a smaller circle whose center describes a larger.
270 THOMAS BROWNE
General Council is not able to extirpate one single Heresie:
it may be cancell'd for the present : but revolution of time,
and the like aspects from Heaven, will restore it, when it
will flourish till it be condemned again. For as though there
were a Aletempsuchosis, and the soul of one man passed into
another, Opinions do find, after certain Revolutions, men
and minds like those that first begat them. To see our selves
again, we need not look for Plato's year:* every man is not
only himself ; there hath been many Diogenes, and as many
Timons, though but few of that name : men are liv'd over
again, the world is now as it was in Ages past; there was
none then, but there hath been some one since that parallels
him, and is, as it were, his revived self.
VII. Xow the first of mine was that of the Arabians, That
the Souls of men perished with their Bodies, but should yet
be raised again at the last day. Not that I did absolutely
conceive a mortality of the Soul; but if that were, (which
Faith, not Philosophy, hath yet throughly disproved,) and
that both entred the grave together, yet I held the same
conceit thereof that we all do of the body, that it should rise
again. Surely it is but the merits of our unworthy Natures,
if we sleep in darkness until the last Alarum. A serious
reflex upon my own unworthiness did make be backward
from challenging this prerogative of my Soul : so that I
might enjoy my Saviour at the last, I could with patience
be nothing almost unto Eternity.
The second was that of Origen, That God would not per-
sist in His vengeance for ever, but after a definite time of
His wrath, He would release the damned Souls from torture.
Which error I fell into upon a serious contemplation of the
great Attribute of God, His Mercy; and did a little cherish
it in my self, because I found therein no malice, and a ready
weight to sway me from the other extream of despair, where-
unto Melancholy and Contemplative Natures are too easily
disposed.
A third there is, which I did never positively maintain or
practise, but have often wished it had been consonant to
Truth, and not offensive to my Religion, and that is, the
retu
.\ period of thousands of years, at the end of which all things should
irn to their former state.
RELIGIO MEDICI 271
Prayer for the Dead; whereunto I was inclin'd from some
charitable inducements, whereby I could scarce contain my
Prayers for a friend at the ringing of a Bell, or behold his
Corps without an Orison for his Soul. 'Twas a good way,
methought, to be remembered by posterity, and far more
noble than an History.
These opinions I never maintained with pertinacy, or en-
deavoured to enveagle any mans belief unto mine, nor so
much as ever revealed or disputed them with my dearest
friends ; by which means I neither propagated them in others,
nor confirmed them in my self; but suffering them to flame
upon their own substance, without addition of new fuel, they
went out insensibly of themselves. Therefore these Opin-
ions, though condemned by lawful Councels, were not
Heresies in me, but bare Errors, and single Lapses of my
understanding, without a joynt depravity of my will. Those
have not onely depraved understandings, but diseased affec-
tions, which cannot enjoy a singularity without an Heresie,
or be the Author of an Opinion without they be of a Sect
also. This was the villany of the first Schism of Lucifer,
who was not content to err alone, but drew into his Faction
many Legions of Spirits; and upon this experience he
tempted only Eve, as well understanding the Communicable
nature of Sin, and that to deceive but one, was tacitely and
upon consequence to delude them both.
VHL That Heresies should arise, we have the Prophesie
of Christ; but that old ones should be abolished, we hold no
prediction. That there must be Heresies, is true, not only
in our Church, but also in any other : even in doctrines here-
tical, there will be super-heresies ; and Arians not only di-
vided from their Church, but also among themselves. For
heads that are disposed unto Schism and complexionally
prepense" to innovation, are naturally indisposed for a com-
munity, nor will be ever confined unto the order or oeconomy
of one body ; and therefore, when they separate from others,
they knit but loosely among themselves ; nor contented with
a general breach or dichotomy with their Church do subdi-
vide and mince themselves almost into Atoms. 'Tis true,
that men of singular parts and humours have not been
'"Inclined by temperament-
272 THOMAS BROWNE
free from singular opinions and conceits in all Ages; re-
taining something, not only beside the opinion of his own
Church or any other, but also any particular Author ; which,
notwithstanding, a sober Judgment may do without offence
or heresie ; for there is yet, after all the Decrees of Councils
and the niceties of the Schools, many things untouch'd, un-
imagin'd, wherein the liberty of an honest reason may play
and expatiate with security, and far without the circle of an
Heresie.
IX. As for those wingy Mysteries in Divinity, and airy
subtleties in Religion, which have unhing'd the brains of
better heads, they never stretched the Pia Mate/^ of mine.
Methinks there be not impossibilities enough in Religion for
an active faith ; the deepest Mysteries ours contains have not
only been illustrated, but maintained, by Syllogism and the
rule of Reason. I love to lose my self in a mystery, to
pursue my Reason to an altitudo! 'Tis my solitary re-
creation to pose my apprehension with those involved ^Enig-
mas and riddles of the Trinity, with Incarnation, and Resur-
rection. I can answer all the Objections of Satan and my
rebellious reason with that odd resolution I learned of
Tertullian, Certum est, quia impossibile est. I desire to exer-
cise my faith in the difficultest point; for to credit ordinary
and visible objects is not faith, but perswasion. Some be-
lieve the better for seeing Christ's Sepulchre ; and, when
they have seen the Red Sea, doubt not of the Miracle.
Now, contrarily, I bless my self and am thankful that I lived
not in the days of ^Miracles, that I never saw Christ nor
His Disciples. I would not have been one of those Israelites
that pass'd the Red Sea, nor one of Christ's patients on
whom He wrought His wonders ; then had my faith been
thrust upon me, nor should I enjoy that greater blessing
pronounced to all that believe and saw not. 'Tis an easie
and necessary belief, to credit what our eye and sense hath
examined. I believe He was dead, and buried, and rose again ;
and desire to see Him in His glory, rather than to contem-
plate Him in His Cenotaphe or Sepulchre. Nor is this much
to believe ; as we have reason, we owe this faith unto His-
tory : they only had the advantage of a bold and noble Faith,
^ A membrane surrounding the brain.
RELIGIO MEDICI 273
who lived before His coming, who upon obscure prophesies
and mystical Types could raise a belief, and expect appa-
rent impossibilities.
X. 'Tis true, there is an edge in all firm belief, and with
an easie Metaphor we may say, the Szvord of Faith; but in
these obscurities I rather use it in the adjunct the Apostle
gives it, a Buckler; under which I conceive a wary com-
batant may lye invulnerable. Since I was of understanding
to know we knew nothing, my reason hath been more pliable
to the will of Faith; I am now content to understand a
mystery without a rigid definition, in an easier and Pla-
tonick description. That allegorical description of Hermes"
pleaseth me beyond all the Metaphysical definitions of
Divines. Where I cannot satisfy my reason, I love to humour
my fancy: I had as live you tell me that aiiima est angelus
hominis, est Corpus Dei, [the soul is man's angel, God's
body] as Entelechia;^ — Lux est umbra Dei, [Light is God's
shadow] as actus perspicui." Where there is an obscurity
too deep for our Reason, 'tis good to sit down with a de-
scription, periphrasis, or adumbration ; for by acquainting
our Reason how unable it is to display the visible and obvious
effects of Nature, it becomes more humble and submissive
unto the subtleties of Faith ; and thus I teach my haggard^^
and unreclaimed Reason to stoop unto the lure of Faith. I
believe there was already a tree whose fruit our unhappy
Parents tasted, though, in the same Chapter when God for-
bids it, 'tis positively said, the plants of the field were not
yet grown, for God had not caus'd it to rain upon the earth.
I believe that the Serpent, (if we shall literally understand
it,) from his proper form and figure, made his motion on his
belly before the ourse. I find the tryal of the Pucellage and
virginity of Women, which God ordained the Jews, is very
fallible. Experience and History informs me, that not onely
many particular Women, but likewise whole Nations, have
escaped the curse of Childbirth, which God seems to pro-
nounce upon the whole Sex. Yet do I believe that all this
^The description alluded to, "God is a sphere whose center is every-
where and circumference nowhere," is said not to be found in the books
which pass under the name of the fabulous Hermes Trismegistus.
^•^ Aristotle's word for " actual being."
" The active force of the clear.
*" Intractable : used of a hawk.
274 THOMAS BROWNE
is true, which indeed my Reason would perswade me to be
false ; and this I think is no vulgar part of Faith, to believe
a thing not only above but contrary to Reason, and against
the Arguments of our proper Senses.
XI. In my solitary and retired imagination
(nequc enim cum porticus aid me
Lectulus accepit, desum miki^
[for when porch or bed has received me, I do not lose myself]
I remember I am not alone, and therefore forget not to con-
template Him and His Attributes Who is ever with me, es-
pecially those two mighty ones. His Wisdom and Eternity.
^^'ith the one I recreate, with the other I confound, my un-
derstanding; for who can speak of Eternity without a
solcecism, or think thereof without an Extasie? Time we
may comprehend : 'tis but five days elder then our selves,
and hath the same Horoscope with the World ; but to retire
so far back as to apprehend a beginning, to give such an
infinite start forwards as to conceive an end, in an essence
that we affirm hath neither the one nor the other, it puts my
Reason to St. Paul's Sanctuary.^* My Philosophy dares not
say the Angels can do it. God hath not made a Creature
that can comprehend Him ; 'tis a privilege of His own nature.
I AM THAT I AM, was His own definition unto Moses; and
'twas a short one, to confound mortality, that durst question
God, or ask Him what He was. Indeed, He onely is ; all
others have and shall be. But in Eternity there is no dis-
tinction of Tenses ; and therefore that terrible term Pre-
destination, which hath troubled so many weak heads to
conceive, and the wisest to explain, is in respect to God no
prescious" determination of our Estates to come, but a
definitive blast of His Will already fulfilled, and at the in-
stant that He first decreed it; for to His Eternity, which is
indivisible and all together, the last Trump is already
sounded, the reprobates in the flame, and the blessed in
Abraham's bosome. St. Peter speaks modestly," when he
^* This has been taken as a reference to Rom. xi. 33, but the exact mean-
ing is uncertain. ^' Foreknowing. 1* Moderately.
RELIGIO MEDICI 275
saith, a thousand years to God arc but as one day; for, to
speak like a Philosopher, those continued instances of time
which flow into a thousand years, make not to Him one
moment : what to us is to come, to His Eternity is present,
His whole duration being but one permanent point, with-
out Sucession, Parts, Flux, or Division.
Xn. There is no Attribute that adds more difficulty to the
mystery of the Trinity, where, though in a relative way of
Father and Son, we must deny a priority. I wonder how
Aristotle could conceive the World eternal, or how he could
make good two Eternities. His similitude of a Triangle
comprehended in a square doth somewhat illustrate the
Trinity of our Souls, and that the Triple Unity of God;
for there is in us not three, but a Trinity of Souls ; because
there is in us, if not three distinct Souls, yet differing facul-
ties, that can and do subsist apart in different Subjects, and
yet in us are so united as to make but one Soul and sub-
stance.
H one Soul were so perfect as to inform three distinct
Bodies, that were a petty Trinity : conceive the distinct num-
ber of three, not divided nor separated by the intellect, but
actually comprehended in its Unity, and that is a perfect
Trinity. I have often admired the mystical way of Pytha-
goras, and the secret ^lagick of numbers. Bezcare of Phi-
losophy, is a precept not to be received in too large a sense;
for in this Mass of Nature there is a set of things that
carry in their Front (though not in Capital Letters, yet in
Stenography and short Characters,) something of Divinity,
which to wiser Reasons serve as Luminaries in the Abyss
of Knowledge, and to judicious beliefs as Scales^' and
Roundles"'" to mount i:he Pinacles and highest pieces of Di-
vinity. The severe Schools shall never laugh me out of the
Philosophy of Hermes, that this visible World is but a Pic-
ture of the invisible, wherein, as in a Pourtraict, things are
not truely, but in equivocal shapes, and as they counterfeit
some more real substance in that invisible fabrick.
XHL That other Attribute wherewith I recreate my devo-
tion, is His Wisdom, in which I am happy ; and for the contem-
plation of this only, do not repent me that I was bred in the
i» Ladders. -"o Steps of a ladder.
276 THOMAS BROWNE
way of Study : the advantage I have of the vulgar, with the
content and happiness I conceive therein, is an ample recom-
pence for all my endeavours, in what part of knowledge so-
ever. Wisdom is His most beauteous Attribute ; no man can
attain unto it, yet Solomon pleased God when he desired it.
He is wise, because He knows all things; and He knoweth
all things, because He made them all : but His greatest knowl-
edge is in comprehending that He made not, that is. Himself.
And this is also the greatest knowledge in man. For this do
I honour my own profession, and embrace the Counsel even
of the Devil himself: had he read such a Lecture in Paradise
as he did at Delphos,^ we had better known our selves, nor
had we stood in fear to know him. I know He is wise in
all, wonderful in what we conceive, but far more in what we
comprehend not ; for we behold Him but asquint, upon reflex
or shadow ; our understanding is dimmer than Moses Eye ;
w"e are ignorant of the back-parts or lower side of His Di-
vinity; therefore to prie into the maze of His Counsels is
not only folly in man, but presumption even in Angels. Like
us, they are His Servants, not His Senators ; He holds no
Counsel, but that mystical one of the Trinity^ wherein,
though there be three Persons, there is but one mind that
decrees without contradiction. Xor needs He any : His
actions are not begot with deliberation. His Wisdom nat-
urally knows what's best; His intellect stands ready fraught
with the superlative and purest Ideas of goodness ; consulta-
tion and election, which are two motions in us, make but
one in Him, His actions springing from His power at the
first touch of His will. These are Contemplations meta-
physical : my humble speculations have another ^Method, and
are content to trace and discover those expressions He hath
left in His Creatures, and the obvious effects of Nature.
There is no danger to profound^ these mysteries, no sanctum
sanctorum in Philosophy. The World was made to be in-
habited by Beasts, but studied and contemplated by Man :
"tis the Debt of our Reason we owe unto God. and the
homage we pay for not being Beasts. Without this, the
World is still as though it had not been, or as it was before
^ " Know thyself." This, like other ancient oracles, Browne ascribes
to the Devil. — Plunge into.
RELIGIO MEDICI 277
the sixth day, when as yet there was not a Creature that
could conceive or say there was a World. The Wisdom of
God receives small honour from those vulgar Heads that
rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity admire His
works: those highly magnifie Him, whose judicious inquiry
into His Acts, and deliberate research into His Creatures,
return the duty of a devout and learned admiration. There-
fore,
Search while thou wilt, and let thy Reason go.
To ransome Truth, even to th' Abyss below ;
Rally the scattered Causes ; and that line,
Which Nature twists, be able to untwine.
It is thy Makers will, for unto none
But unto Reason can He e're be known.
The Devils do know Thee, but those damned Meteors
Build not Thy Glory, but confound Thy Creatures.
Teach my indeavours so Thy works to read,
That learning them in Thee, I may proceed.
Give Thou my reason that instructive flight.
Whose weary wings may on Thy hands still light.
Teach me to soar aloft, yet ever so,
When neer the Sun, to stoop again below.
Thus shall my humble Feathers safely hover,
And, though near Earth, more than the Heavens discover.
And then at last, when homeward I shall drive,
Rich with the Spoils of Nature, to my Hive,
There will I sit like that industrious Flie,
Buzzing Thy praises, which shall never die,
Till Death abrupts them, and succeeding Glory
Bid me go on in a more lasting story.
And this is almost all wherein an humble Creature may
endeavour to requite and some way to retribute"^ unto his
Creator: for if not he that saith, "Lord, Lord," hut he that
doth the will of his Father, shall be saved; certainly our wills
must be our performances, and our intents make out our
Actions; otherwise our pious labours shall find anxiety in
our Graves, and our best endeavours not hope, but fear, a
resurrection.
XIV. There is but one first cause, and four second causes
of all things. Some are without efficient, as God; others
without matter, as Angels; some without form, as the first
-^ Render back.
278 THOMAS BROWNE
matter: but every Essence, created or uncreated, hath its
final cause, and some positive end both of its Essence and
Operation. This is the cause I grope after in the works of
Nature; on this hangs the Providence of God. To raise so
beauteous a structure as the World and the Creatures thereof,
was but His Art; but their sundry and divided operations,
with their predestinated ends, are from the Treasure of His
Wisdom. In the causes, nature, and affections"* of the
Eclipses of the Sun and Moon, there is most excellent specu-
lation ; but to profound"^ farther, and to contemplate a reason
why His Providence hath so disposed and ordered their mo-
tions in that vast circle as to conjoyn and obscure each other,
is a sweeter piece of Reason, and a diviner point of Phi-
losophy. Therefore sometimes, and in some things, there
appears to me as much Divinity in Galen his books De Usu
Parthim, as in Suarez Metaphysicks. Had Aristotle been as
curious in the enquiry of this cause as he was of the other,
he had not left behind him an imperfect piece of Philosophy,
but an absolute tract of Divinity.
XV. Natiira nihil agit frustra, [Nature does nothing in
vain] is the only indisputed Axiome in Philosophy. There
are no Grotesques in Nature ; not anything framed to fill up
empty Cantons,^ and unnecessary spaces. In the most im-
perfect Creatures, and such as were not preserved in the
Ark, but, having their Seeds and Principles in the womb of
Nature, are every where, where the power of the Sun is, in
these is the Wisdom of His hand discovered. Out of this
rank Solomon chose the object of his admiration. Indeed
what Reason may not go to School to the wisdom of Bees,
Ants, and Spiders? what wise hand teacheth them to do what
Reason cannot teach us? Ruder heads stand amazed at
those prodigious pieces of Nature, Whales, Elephants. Dromi-
daries and Camels ; these, I confess, are the Colossus and
majestick pieces of her hand: but in these narrow Engines
there is more curious Mathematicks ; and the civility of these
little Citizens more neatly sets forth the Wisdom of their
Maker. Who admires not Regio-Montanus"* his Fly beyond
his Eagle, or wonders not more at the operation of two
-- Plunge into. "* Influences. -'■ Corners.
^* John Miiller of Konigsberg (1636-75), who made an automatic iron fly
on a wooden eagle.
RELIGIO MEDICI 279
Souls^ in those little Bodies, than but one in the Trunk of
a Cedar? I could never content my contemplations with
those general pieces of wonder, the Flux and Reflux of the
Sea. the increase of Nile, the conversion of the Needle to the
North ; and have studied to match and parallel those in the
more obvious and neglected pieces of Nature, which without
further travel I can do in the Cosmography of myself. We
carry with us the wonders we seek without us : there is all
Africa and her prodigies in us ; we are that bold and ad-
venturous piece of Nature, which he that studies wisely
learns in a compendium what others labour at in a divided
piece and endless volume.
XVI. Thus there are two Books from whence I collect my
Divinity; besides that written one of God, another of His
servant Nature, that universal and publick Manuscript, that
lies expans'd unto the Eyes of all : those that never saw Him
in the one, have discovered Him in the other. This was the
Scripture and Theology of the Heathens : the natural motion
of the Sun made them more admire Him than its super-
natural station did the Children of Israel ; the ordinary
effects of Nature wrought more admiration in them than in
the other all His Miracles. Surely the Heathens knew
better how to joyn and read these mystical Letters than we
Christians, who cast a more careless Eye on these common
Hieroglyphicks, and disdain to suck Divinity from the flow-
ers of Nature. Nor do I so forget God as to adore the name
of Nature ; which I define not. with the Schools, to be the
principle of motion and rest, but that streight and regular
line, that settled and constant course the Wisdom of God
hath ordained the actions of His creatures, according to their
several kinds. To make a revolution every day is the Na-
ture of the Sun, because of that necessary course which God
hath ordained it, from which it cannot swerve but by a
faculty from that voice which first did give it motion. Now
this course of Nature God seldome alters or perverts, but,
like an excellent Artist, hath so contrived His work, that
with the self same instrument, without a new creation, He
may effect His obscurest designs. Thus He sweetneth the
Water with a Wood,"^ preserveth the Creatures in the Ark,
-' The sensitive and the vegetative. -* Exod. xv. 25.
280 THOMAS BROWNE
which the blast of His mouth might have as easily created;
for God is like a skilful Geometrician, who, when more easily
and with one stroak of his Compass he might describe or
divide a right line, had yet rather do this in a circle or longer
way, according to the constituted and fore-laid principles of
his Art. Yet this rule of His He doth sometimes pervert,
to acquaint the World with His Prerogative, lest the ar-
rogancy of our reason should question His power, and con-
clude He could not. And thus I call the effects of Nature the
works of God. Whose hand and instrument she only is; and
therefore to ascribe His actions unto her, is to devolve the
honour of the principal agent upon the instrument; which if
with reason we may do, then let our hammers rise up and
boast they have built our houses, and our pens receive the
honour of our writings. I hold there is a general beauty in
the works of God, and therefore no deformity in any kind or
species of creature whatsoever. I cannot tell by what Logick
we call a Toad, a Bear, or an Elephant ugly; they being
created in those outward shapes and figures which best ex-
press the actions of their inward forms, and having past
that general Visitation^ of God, Who saw that all that He
had made was good, that is, conformable to His Will, which
abhors deformity, and is the rule of order and beauty. There
is no deformity but in Monstrosity; wherein, notwithstand-
ing, there is a kind of Beauty; Nature so ingeniously con-
triving the irregular parts, as they become sometimes more
remarkable than the principal Fabrick. To speak yet more
narrowly, there was never any thing ugly or mis-shapen, but
the Chaos; wherein, notwithstanding, (to speak strictly,)
there was no deformity, because no form ; nor was it yet im-
pregnant by the voice of God. Now Nature is not at variance
with Art, nor Art with Nature, they being both servants of
His Providence. Art is the perfection of Nature. Were the
World now as it was the sixth day, there were yet a Chaos.
Nature hath made one World, and Art another. In brief, all
things are artificial ; for Nature is the Art of God.
XVH. This is the ordinary and open way of His Provi-
dence, which Art and Industry have in a good part discov-
ered; whose effects we may foretel without an Oracle: to
^ Inspection, Gen. i. 31.
RELIGIO MEDICI 281
foreshew these, is not Prophesie, but Prognostication. There
is another way, full of Meanders and Labyrinths, whereof
the Devil and Spirits have no exact Ephemerides f° and that
is a more particular and obscure method of His Providence,
directing the operations of individuals and single Essences :
this we call Fortune, that serpentine and crooked line, where-
by He draws those actions His Wisdom intends, in a more
unknown and secret way. This cryptick and involved method
of His Providence have I ever admired; nor can I relate the
History of my life, the occurrences of my days, the escapes
of dangers, and hits of chance, with a Bcso las Manos'^ to
Fortune, or a bare Gramercy to my good Stars. Abraham
might have thought the Ram in the thicket came thither by
accident ; humane^" reason would have said that meer chance
conveyed Moses in the Ark to the sight of Pharaoh's Daugh-
ter: what a Labyrinth is there in the story of Joseph, able
to convert a Stoick ! Surely there are in every man's Life
certain rubs, doublings, and wrenches, which pass a while
under the effects of chance, but at the last, well examined,
prove the meer hand of God. 'Twas not dumb chance, that,
to discover the Fougade or Powder-plot, contrived a mis-
carriage in the Letter.^ I like the Victory of '88 the better
for that one occurrence, which our enemies imputed to our
dishonour and the partiality of Fortune, to wit, the tempests
and contrariety of Winds. King Philip did not detract from
the Nation, when he said, he sent his Armado to fight with
men, and not to combate with the Winds. Where there is a
manifest disproportion between the powers and forces of
two several agents, upon a Maxime of reason we may prom-
ise the Victory to the Superiour ; but when unexpected ac-
cidents slip in, and unthought of occurrences intervene,
these must proceed from a power that owes no obedience to
those Axioms ; where, as in the writing upon the wall, we
may behold the hand, but see not the spring that moves it.
The success of that petty Province of Holland (of which the
Grand Seignour"* proudly said, if they shoidd trouble him as
^ Tables of the daily state of the heavens, used as bases for prognos-
tications.
'"■ Spanish, " I kiss hands," an acknowledgment of favor received.
"- Human.
"^ A miscarriage of the plot by means of the letter to Lord Monteagle,
by which the plot was discovered. ^ The Sultan of Turkey.
282 THOMAS BROWNE
they did the Spaniard, he zi-ould send his men zvith shovels
and pick-axes, and throz^.' it into the Sea,) I cannot alto-
gether ascribe to the ingenuity and industry of the people,
but the mercy of God, that hath disposed them to such a
thriving Genius; and to the will of His Providence, that
disposeth her favour to each Country in their pre-ordinate
season. All cannot be happy at once : for, because the glory
of one State depends upon the ruine of another, there is a
revolution and vicissitude of their greatness, and must obey
the swing of that wheel, not moved by Intelligences, but by
the hand of God, whereby all Estates arise to their Zenith
and Vertical points according to their predestinated periods.
For the lives, not only of men, but of Common\vealth5, and
the whole World, run not upon an Helix^ that still enlargeth,
but on a Circle, where, arriving to their Meridian, they de-
cline in obscurity, and fall under the Horizon again.
XVHI. These must not therefore be named the effects of
Fortune, but in a relative way, and as we term the works of
Nature. It was the ignorance of mans reason that begat this
very name, and by a careless term miscalled the Providence
of God; for there is no liberty for causes to operate in a
loose and stragling way ; nor any effect whatsoever, but hath
its warrant from some universal or superiour Cause. 'Tis not
a ridiculous devotion to say a prayer before a game at
Tables ; for even in sortilegies^ and matters of greatest un-
certainty there is a setled and preordered course of effects.
It is we that are blind, not Fortune : because our Eye is too
dim to discover the mystery of her eft'ects, we foolishly paint
her blind, and hoodwink the Providence of the Almighty. I
cannot justifie that contemptible Proverb, That fools only are
Fortunate, or that insolent Paradox, That a z>.ise man is out
of the reach of Fortune; much less those opprobrious epithets
of Poets, Whore, Ba-wd, and Strumpet. Tis, I confess, the
common fate of men of singular gifts of mind to be destitute
of those of Fortune, which doth not any way deject the
Spirit of wiser judgements, who throughly understand the
justice of this proceeding; and being inriched with higher
donatives," cast a more careless eye on these vulgar parts of
felicity. It is a most unjust ambition to desire to engross
** Spiral. »* Drawing lots. ^' Gifts.
RELIGIO MEDICI 283
the mercies of the Almighty, not to be content with the
goods of mind, without a possession of those of body or For-
tune; and it is an error worse than heresie, to adore these
complemental and circumstantial pieces of felicity, and un-
dervalue those perfections and essential points of happiness
wherein we resemble our Maker. To wiser desires it is satis-
faction enough to deserve, though not to enjoy, the favours
of Fortune: let Providence provide for Fools. 'Tis not
partiality, but equity in God, Who deals with us but as our
natural Parents : those that are able of Body and Mind He
leaves to their deserts ; to those of weaker merits He imparts a
larger portion, and pieces out the defect of one by the excess
of the other. Thus have we no just quarrel with Nature for
leaving us naked ; or to envy the Horns, Hoofs, Skins, and
Furs of other Creatures, being provided with Reason, that
can supply them all. We need not labour with so many
Arguments to confute Judicial Astrology ; for, if there be a
truth therein, it doth not injure Divinity. If to be born
under Mercury disposeth us to be witty, under Jupiter to be
wealthy ; I do not owe a Knee unto these, but unto that mer-
ciful Hand that hath ordered my indifferent and uncertain
nativity unto such benevolous Aspects. Those that hold that all
things are governed by Fortune, had not erred, had they not
persisted^* there. The Romans, that erected a Temple to
Fortune, acknowledged therein, though in a blinder way,
somewhat of Divinity ; for, in a wise supputation,^® all things
begin and end in the Almighty. There is a nearer way to
Heaven than Homer's Chain;*" an easie Logic may conjoyn
Heaven and Earth in one Argument, and with less than a
Sorites*^ resolve all things into God. For though we christen
effects by their most sensible*" and nearest Causes, yet is
God the true and infallible Cause of all; whose concourse,"
though it be general, yet doth it subdivide it self into the
particular Actions of every thing, and is that Spirit, by which
each singular Essence not only subsists, but performs its
operation.
XIX. The bad construction and perverse comment on
these pair of second Causes, or visible hands of God, have
5* Stood still. "' Calculation. *" Iliad viii. 19.
*'^ A series of syllogisms. *-' Perceptible to sense. *» Cooperation.
284 THOMAS BROWNE
perverted the Devotion of many unto Atheism; who, for-
getting the honest Advisoes** of Faith, have Hstened unto the
conspiracy of Passion and Reason. I have therefore always
endeavoured to compose those Feuds and angry Dissentions
between Affection, Faith, and Reason; for there is in our
Soul a kind of Triumvirate, or triple Government of three
Competitors, which distract the Peace of this our Common-
wealth, not less than did that other the State of Rome.
As Reason is a Rebel unto Faith, so Passion unto Reason:
as the propositions of Faith seem absurd unto Reason, so
the Theorems of Reason unto Passion, and both unto Faith.
Yet a moderate and peaceable discretion may so state and
order the matter, that they may be all Kings, and yet make
but one Monarchy, every one exercising his Soveraignty and
Prerogative in a due time and place, according to the re-
straint and limit of circumstance. There is, as in Philo-
sophy, so in Divinity, sturdy doubts and boisterous Objec-
tions, wherewith the unhappiness of our knowledge too
nearly acquainteth us. More of these no man hath known
than myself, which I confess I conquered, not in a martial
posture, but on my Knees. For our endeavours are not only
to combat with doubts, but always to dispute with the Devil.
The villany of that Spirit takes a hint of Infidelity from our
Studies, and, by demonstrating a naturality in one way, makes
us mistrust a miracle in another. Thus, having perused the
Archidoxis*^ and read the secret Sympathies of things, he
would disswade my belief from the miracle of the Brazen
Serpent, make me conceit that Image worked by Sympathy,
and was but an Egyptian trick to cure their Diseases with-
out a miracle. Again, having seen some experiments of
Bitumen, and having read far more of Naphtha, he whis-
pered to my curiosity the fire of the Altar might be natural ;
and bid me mistrust a miracle in Elias, when he entrenched
the Altar round with Water; for that inflamable substance
yields not easily unto Water, but flames in the Arms of its
Antagonist. And thus would he inveagle my belief to think
the combustion of Sodom might be natural, and that there
was an Asphaltick and Bituminous nature in that Lake be-
fore the Fire of Gomorrah. I know that Manna is now
** Admonitions. *^ A work by Paracelsus.
RELIGIO MEDICI 285
plentifully gathered in Calabria; and Josephus tells me, in
his days it was as plentiful in Arabia; the Devil therefore
made the quccre, Where was then the miracle in the days of
Mosesf the Israelites saw but that in his time, the Natives
of those Countries behold in ours. Thus the Devil played at
Chess with me, and yielding a Pawn, thought to gain a
Queen of me, taking advantage of my honest endeavours ;
and whilst I laboured to raise the structure of my Reason,
he strived to undermine the edifice of my Faith.
XX. Neither had these or any other ever such advantage of
me, as to incline me to any point of Infidelity or desperate
positions of Atheism; for I have been these many years of
opinion there was never any. Those that held Religion was
the dii¥erence of Man from Beasts, have spoken probably,
and proceed upon a principle as inductive as the other. That
doctrine of Epicurus, that denied the Providence of God, was
no Atheism, but a magnificent and high strained conceit of
His Majesty, which he deemed too sublime to mind the
trivial Actions of those inferiour Creatures. That fatal
Necessity of the Stoicks is nothing but the immutable Law
of His Will. Those that heretofore denied the Divinity of
the Holy Ghost, have been condemned but as Hereticks;
and those that now deny our Saviour, (though more than
Hereticks,) are not so much as Atheists; for, though they
deny two persons in the Trinity, they hold, as we do, there
is but one God.
That Villain and Secretary of Hell,*" that composed that
miscreant piece Of the Three Impostors, though divided
from all Religions, and was neither Jew, Turk, nor Chris-
tian, was not a positive Atheist. I confess every Country
hath its Machiavel, every age its Lucian, whereof common
Heads must not hear, nor more advanced Judgments too
rashly venture on: it is the Rhetorick of Satan, and may
pervert a loose or prejudicate belief.
XXI. I confess I have perused them all, and can discover
nothing that may startle a discreet belief; yet are there
heads carried off with the Wind and breath of such motives.
I remember a Doctor in Physick, of Italy, who could not
perfectly believe the immortality of the Soul, because Galea
** Name unknown.
286 THOMAS BROWNE
seemed to make a doubt thereof. With another I was fa-
miliarly acquainted in France, a Divine, and a man of sin-
gular parts, that on the same point was so plunged and
gravelled with three lines of Seneca, that all our Antidotes,
drawn from both Scripture and Philosophy, could not expel
the poyson of his errour. There are a set of Heads, that
can credit the relations of Mariners, yet question the Testi-
monies of St. Paul; and peremptorily maintain the traditions
of ^lian or Pliny, yet in Histories of Scripture raise Queries
and Objections, believing no more than they can parallel in
humane' Authors. I confess there are in Scripture Stories
that do exceed the Fables of Poets, and to a captious Reader
sound like Garaganfua or Bcvis. Search all the Legends of
times past, and the fabulous conceits of these present, and
'twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry the Buckler
unto Sampson; yet is all this of an easie possibility, if we
conceive a Divine concourse,^ or an influence but from the
little Finger of the Almighty. It is impossible that either in
the discourse of man, or in the infallible Voice of God, to
the weakness of our apprehensions, there should not appear
irregularities, contradictions, and antinomies:*^ my self could
shew a Catalogue of doubts, never yet imagined nor ques-
tioned, as I know, which are not resolved at the first hear-
ing; not fantastick Queries or Objections of Air; for I can-
not hear of Atoms in Divinity. I can read the History of
the Pigeon that was sent out of the Ark, and returned no
more, yet not question how she found out her Mate that was
left behind: that Lazarus was raised from the dead, yet not
demand where in the interim his Soul awaited ; or raise a
Lawcase, whether his Heir might lawfully detain his in-
heritance bequeathed vmto him by his death, and he, though
restored to life, have no Plea or Title unto his former pos-
sessions. Whether Eve was framed out o"f the left side
of Adam, I dispute not ; because I stand not yet assured
which is the right side of a man, or whether there be any
such distinction in Nature: that she was edified out of the
Rib of Adam I believe, yet raise no question who shall arise
with that Rib at the Resurrection. Whether Adam was an
Hermaphrodite, as the Rabbins contend upon the Letter of
'Human. * Cooperation. ■" Contradictions of natural law.
RELIGIO MEDICI 287
the Text, because it is contrary to reason, there should be
an Hermaphrodite before there was a Woman, or a com-
position of two Natures before there was a second composed.
Likewise, whether the World was created in Autumn, Sum-
mer, or the Spring, because it was created in them all ; for
whatsoever Sign the Sun possesseth, those four Seasons are
actually existent. It is the nature of this Luminary to dis-
tinguish the several Seasons of the year, all which it makes
at one time in the whole Earth, and successive in any part
thereof. There are a bundle of curiosities, not only in Phi-
losophy, but in Divinity, proposed and discussed by men of
most supposed abilities, which indeed are not worthy our
vacant hours, much less our serious Studies : Pieces only fit
to be placed in Pantagnicl's Library, or bound up with
Tartaretus De iiiodo Cacandi.*^
XXIL These are niceties that become not those that
peruse so serious a Mystery. There are others more gener-
ally questioned and called to the Bar, yet methinks of an
easie and possible truth.
'Tis ridiculous to put off or drown the general Flood of
Noah in that particular inundation of Deucalion. That there
was a Deluge once, seems not to me so great a Miracle, as
that there is not one always. How all the kinds of Creatures,
not only in their own bulks, but with a competency of food
and sustenance, might be preserved in one Ark, and within
the extent of three hundred Cubits, to a reason that rightly
examines it will appear very feasible. There is another
secret, not contained in the Scripture, which is more hard
to comprehend, and put the honest Father^* to the refuge of
a Miracle ; and that is, not only how the distinct pieces of
the World and divided Islands, should be first planted by
men, but inhabited by Tigers, Panthers, and Bears. How
America abounded with Beasts of prey and noxious Animals,
yet contained not in it that necessary Creature, a Horse,
is very strange. By what passage those, not only Birds, but
dangerous and unwelcome Beasts, came over ; how there
be Creatures there, which are not found in this Triple Con-
tinent ; (all which must needs be strange unto us. that hold
*'The title of an imaginary book in the list given by Rabelais in his
" Pantaeruel." ■"* St. Augustine.
288 THOMAS BROWNE
but one Ark, and that the Creatures began their progress
from the Mountains of Ararat:) they who, to salve this,
would make the Deluge particular, proceed upon a principle
that I can no way grant ; not only upon the negative of Holy
Scriptures, but of mine own Reason, whereby I can make
it probable, that the World was as well peopled in the time
of Noah as in ours ; and fifteen hundred years to people the
World, as full a time for them, as four thousand years since
have been to us.
There are other assertions and common Tenents drawn
from Scripture, and generally believed as Scripture, where-
unto, notwithstanding, I would never betray the liberty of
my Reason. 'Tis a Postulate to me, that Methusalem was
the longest liv'd of all the Children of Adam ; and no man
will be able to prove it, when, from the process of the Text,
I can manifest it may be otherwise. That Judas perished
by hanging himself, there is no certainty in Scripture:
though in one place it seems to affirm it, and by a doubtful
word hath given occasion to translate it; yet in another
place, in a more punctual description, it makes it improbable,
and seems to overthrow it. That our Fathers, after the
Flood, erected the Tower of Babel to preserve themselves
against a second Deluge, is generally opinioned and believed;
yet is there another intention of theirs expressed in Scrip-
ture: besides, it is improbable from the circumstances of the
place, that is, a plain in the Land of Shinar. These are no
points of Faith, and therefore may admit a free dispute.
There are yet others, and those familiarly concluded from
the text, wherein (under favour,) I see no consequence.
The Church of Rome confidently proves the opinion of Tute-
lary Angels from that Answer, when Peter knockt at the
Door, 'Tis not he, hut his Angel; that is (might some say,)
his Messenger, or some body from him ; for so the Original
signifies, and is as likely to be the doubtful Families meaning.
This exposition I once suggested to a young Divine, that
answered upon this point ; to which I remember the Francis-
can Opponent replyed no more, but That it was a new, and
no aiifhcntick interpretation.
XXIII. These are but the conclusions and fallible dis-
courses of man upon the Word of God, for such I do believe
RELIGIO MEDICI 289
the Holy Scriptures: yet, were it of man, I could not chuse
but say, it was the singularest and superlative piece that
hath been extant since the Creation. Were I a Pagan, I
should not refrain the Lecture"" of it; and cannot but com-
mend the judgment of Ptolomy," and thought not his
Library compleat without it. The Alcoran of the Turks (I
speak without prejudice,) is an ill composed Piece, contain-
ing in vain and ridiculous Errors in Philosophy, impossi-
bilities, fictions, and vanities beyond laughter, maintained by
evident and open Sophisms, the Policy of Ignorance, deposi-
tion of Universities, and banishment of Learning, that hath
gotten Foot by Arms and violence : this without a blow hath
disseminated it self through the whole Earth. It is not un-
remarkable what Philo first observed, that the Law of Moses
continued two thousand years without the least alteration ;
whereas, we see the Laws of other Common-weals do alter
with occasions ; and even those that pretended their original
from some Divinity, to have vanished without trace or
memory. I believe, besides Zoroaster, there were divers that
writ before Moses, who, notwithstanding, have suffered the
common fate of time. Mens Works have an age like them-
selves ; and though they out-live their Authors, yet have
they a stint"" and period to their duration : this only is a
work too hard for the teeth of time, and cannot perish but
in the general Flames, when all things shall confess their
Ashes.
XXIV. I have heard some with deep sighs lament the
lost lines of Cicero ; others with as many groans deplore the
combustion of the Library of Alexandria : for my own part,
I think there be too many in the World, and could with pa-
tience behold the urn and ashes of the Vatican, could I,
with a few others, recover the perished leaves of Solomon.
I would not omit a copy of Enoch's Pillars,^ had they many
nearer Authors than Josephus, or did not relish somewhat
of the Fable. Some men have written more than others have
spoken ; Pineda"* quotes more Authors in one work, than are
necessary in a whole World. Of those three great inven-
''" Reading. " King of Egypt. ^'~ Limit.
'^- Josephus says that the descendants of Seth erected two pillars on which
all human inventions so far made were engraved.
"Juan de Pineda published his " Monarchia Ecclesiastica " in 1588.
lie III iO
290 THOMAS BROWNE
tions* in Germany, there are two which are not without
their incommodities, and 'tis disputable whether they exceed
not their use and commodities. 'Tis not a melancholy
Utinam^ of my own, but the desires of better heads, that
there were a general Synod; not to unite the incompatible
difference of Religion, but for the benefit of learning, to
reduce it as it lay at first, in a few and solid Authors; and
to condemn to the fire those swarms and millions of Rhap-
sodies, begotten only to distract and abuse the weaker judge-
ments of Scholars, and to maintain the trade and mystery
of Typographers.
XXV. I cannot but wonder with what exception the Sa-
maritans could confine their belief to the Pentateuch, or five
Books of Moses. I am ashamed at the Rabbinical Interpre-
tation of the Jews upon the Old Testament, as much as their
defection from the New : and truly it is beyond wonder, how
that contemptible and degenerate issue of Jacob, once so de-
voted to Ethnick"'" Superstition, and so easily seduced to the
Idolatry of their Neighbours, should now in such an ob-
stinate and peremptory belief adhere unto their own Doc-
trine, expect impossibilities, and, in the face and eye of the
Church, persist without the least hope of Conversion. This
is a vice in them, that were a vertue in us; for obstinacy
in a bad Cause is but constancy in a good. And herein I
must accuse those of my own Religion, for there is not any
of such a fugitive Faith, such an unstable belief, as a Chris-
tian; none that do so oft transform themselves, not unto
several shapes of Christianity and of the same Species, but
imto more unnatural and contrary Forms of Jew and Ma-
hometan ; that, from the name of Saviour, can condescend to
the bare term of Prophet; and, from an old belief that He
is come, fall to a new expectation of His coming. It is the
promise of Christ to make us all one Flock ; but how and
when this Union shall be, is as obscure to me as the last day.
Of those four Members of Religion'^ we hold a slender pro-
portion. There are, I confess, some new additions, yet small
to those which accrew to our Adversaries, and those only
drawn from the revolt of Pagans, men but of negative Im-
" One MS. explains these as guns, printing, and the mariner's coiTipass.
•^« Latin, would that! '^ Gentile. 58 pagans, Mohammedans, Jews,
and Christians.
RELIGIO MEDICI 291
pieties, and such as deny Christ, but because they never
heard of Him. But the ReHgion of the Jew is expresly
against the Christian, and the Mahometan against both. For
the Turk, in the bulk he now stands, he is beyond all hope
of conversion; if he fall asunder, there may be conceived
hopes, but not without strong improbabilities. The Jew
is obstinate in all fortunes ; the persecution of fifteen hundred
years hath but confirmed them in their Errour: they have
already endured whatsoever may be inflicted, and have suf-
fered in a bad cause, even to the condemnation of their ene-
mies. Persecution is a bad and indirect way to plant Religion:
it hath been the unhappy method of angry Devotions,^* not
only to confirm honest Religion, but wicked Heresies, and
extravagant Opinions. It was the first stone and Basis of
our Faith; none can more justly boast of Persecutions, and
glory in the number and valour of Martyrs. For, to speak
properly, those are true and almost only examples of forti-
tude : those that are fetch'd from the field, or drawn from
the actions of the Camp, are not oft-times so truely prec-
edents of valour as audacity, and at the best attain but
to some bastard piece of fortitude. If we shall strictly
examine the circumstances and requisites which Aristotle
requires to true and perfect valour, we shall find the
name only in his Master, Alexander, and as little in that
Roman Worthy, Julius Caesar; and if any in that easie
and active way have done so nobly as to deserve that name,
yet in the passive and more terrible piece these have sur-
passed, and in a more heroical way may claim the honour
of that Title. 'Tis not in the power of every honest Faith
to proceed thus far, or pass to Heaven through the flames.
Every one hath it not in that full measure, nor in so auda-
cious and resolute a temper, as to endure those terrible tests
and trials ; who, notwithstanding, in a peaceable way, do
truely adore their Saviour, and have (no doubt,) a Faith
acceptable in the eyes of God.
XXVI. Now, as all that dye in the War are not termed
Souldiers; so neither can I properly term all those that
suffer in matters of Religion, Martyrs. The Council of
Constance condemns John Huss for an Heretick; the Stories
6" Devotees.
292 THOMAS BROWNE
of his own Party stile him a Martyr : he must needs offend
the Divinity of both, that says he was neither the one nor
the other. There are many (questionless), canonized on
earth, that shall never be Saints in Heaven; and have their
names in Histories and Martyrologies, who in the eyes of
God are not so perfect Martyrs as was that wise Heathen,
Socrates, that suffered on a fundamental point of Religion,
the unity of God. I have often pitied the miserable Bishop**
that suffered in the cause of Antipodes ; yet cannot chuse but
accuse him of as much madness, for exposing his living on
such a trifle, as those of ignorance and folly, that condemned
him. I think my conscience will not give me the lye, if T
say there are not many extant that in a noble way fear the
face of death less than myself; yet, from the moral duty
I owe to the Commandment of God, and the natural respects
that I tender unto the conservation of my essence and being,
I would not perish upon a Ceremony, Politick points, or in-
differency: nor is my belief of that untractible temper, as
not to bow at their obstacles, or connive at matters wherein
there are not manifest impieties. The leaven, therefore, and
ferment of all. not only civil but Religious actions, is
Wisdom ; without which, to commit our selves to the flames
is Homicide, and (I fear.) but to pass through one fire into
another.
XX^^^. That Miracles are ceased, I can neither prove,
nor absolutely deny, much less define the time and period
of their cessation. That they survived Christ, is manifest
upon the Record of Scripture; that they out-lived the
Apostles also, and were revived at the Conversion of Nations
many years after, we cannot deny, if we shall not question
those Writers whose testimonies we do not controvert in
points that make for our own opinions. Therefore that may
have some truth in it that is reported by the Jesuites of
their Miracles in the Indies; I could wish it were true, or
had any other testimony than their own Pens. They may
easily believe those Miracles abroad, who daily conceive a
greater at home, the transmutation of those visible elements
into the Body and Blood of our Saviour. For the conversion
^Virgilius, Bishop of Salzburg in the 8th century, was said to hare
asserted the existence of the Antipodes.
RELIGIO MEDICI 293
of Water into Wine, which He wrought in Cana, or, what
the Devil would have had Him done in the Wilderness, of
Stones into Bread, compared to this, will scarce deserve the
name of a Miracle : though indeed, to speak properly, there
is not one Miracle greater than another, they being the
extraordinary effects of the Hand of God, to which all things
are of an equal facility ; and to create the World, as easie
as one single Creature. For this is also a Miracle, not onely
to produce effects against or above Nature, but before Na-
ture ; and to create Nature, as great a Miracle as to con-
tradict or transcend her. We do too narrowly define the
Power of God, restraining it to our capacities. I hold that
God can do all things ; how He should work contradictions,
I do not understand, yet dare not therefore deny. I cannot
see why the Angel of God should question Esdras to recal
the time past, if it were beyond His own power ; or that God
should pose mortality in that which He was not able to per-
form Himself. I will not say God cannot, but He will not,
perform many things, which we plainly afifirm He cannot.
This, I am sure, is the mannerliest proposition, wherein, not-
withstanding, I hold no Paradox; for. strictly, His power
is the same with His will, and they both, with all the rest,
do make but one God.
XXVHI. Therefore that Miracles have been, I do be-
lieve; that they may yet be wrought by the living, I do not
deny; but have no confidence in those which are fathered
on the dead. And this hath ever made me suspect the
efficacy of reliques, to examine the bones, question the habits
and appurtenances of Saints, and even of Christ Himself.
I cannot conceive why the Cross that Helena found, and
whereon Christ Himself dyed, should have power to restore
others unto life. I excuse not Constantine from a fall off
his Horse, or a mischief from his enemies, upon the wearing
those nails on his bridle, which our Saviour bore upon the
Cross in His Hands. I compute among your Pice fraudcs^
nor many degrees before consecrated Swords and Roses,
that which Baldwyn, King of Jerusalem, returned the Geno-
vese for their cost and pains in his War, to wit, the ashes
of John the Baptist. Those that hold the sanctity of their
*■• Pious frauds.
294 THOMAS BROWNE
Souls doth leave behind a tincture and sacred faculty on
their bodies, speak naturally of Miracles, and do not salve
the doubt. Now one reason I tender so little Devotion unto
Reliques, is, I think, the slender and doubtful respect I have
alvi^ays held unto Antiquities. For that indeed which I ad-
mire, is far before Antiquity, that is. Eternity; and that is,
God Himself ; Who, though He be styled the Ancient of
Days, cannot receive the adjunct of Antiquity; Who was
before the World, and shall be after it, yet is not older than
it ; for in His years there is no Climacter ;*^ His duration is
Eternity, and far more venerable than Antiquity.
XXIX. But above all things I wonder how the curiosity
of wiser heads could pass that great and indisputable
Miracle, the cessation of Oracles; and in what swoun their
Reasons lay, to content themselves and sit down with such
a far-fetch'd and ridiculous reason as Plutarch alleadgeth
for it. The Jews, that can believe the supernatural Solstice
of the Sun in the days of Joshua, have yet the impudence
to deny the Eclipse, which every Pagan confessed, at His
death : but for this, it is evident beyond all contradiction,
the Devil himself confessed it.*^^ Certainly it is not a war-
rantable curiosity, to examine the verity of Scripture by
the concordance of humane history, or seek to confirm the
Chronicle of Hester or Daniel, by the authority of Megas-
thenes or Herodotus. I confess, I have had an unhappy
curiosity this way, till I laughed my self out of it with a
piece of Justine, where he delivers that the Children of
Israel for being scabbed were banished out of Egypt. And
truely since I have understood the occurrences of the World,
and know in what counterfeit shapes and deceitful vizards
times present represent on the stage things past. I do believe
them little more then things to come. Some have been of
my opinion, and endeavoured to write the History of their
own lives ; wherein Moses hath outgone them all and left
not onely the story of his life, but (as some will have it,)
of his death also.
XXX. It is a riddle to me, how this story of Oracles hath
not worm'd out of the World that doubtful conceit of Spirits
62 The point in a man's life when his powers begin to decay.
•13 " In his oracle to Augustus." — T. £,
RELIGIO MEDICI 29S
and Witches ; how so many learned heads should so far
forget their Metaphysicks, and destroy the ladder and scale
of creatures, as to question the existence of Spirits. For
my part, I have ever believed, and do now know, that there
are Witches : they that doubt of these, do not onely deny
them, but Spirits ; and are obliquely and upon consequence
a sort not of Infidels, but Atheists. Those that to confute
their incredulity desire to see apparitions, shall questionless
never behold any, nor have the power to be so much as
Witches ; the Devil hath them already in a heresie as capital
as Witchcraft ; and to appear to them, were but to convert
them. Of all the delusions wherewith he deceives morality,
there is not any that puzzleth me more than the Legerdemain
of Changelings. I do not credit those transformations of
reasonable creatures into beasts, or that the Devil hath a
power to transpeciate** a man into a Horse, who tempted
Christ (as a trial of His Divinity,) to convert but stones
into bread. I could believe that Spirits use with man the
act of carnality, and that in both sexes; I conceive they
may assume, steal, or contrive a body, wherein there may
be action enough to content decrepit lust, or passion to sat-
isfie more active veneries ;"" yet, in both, without a possibility
of generation : and therefore that opinion that Antichrist
should be born of the Tribe of Dan by conjunction with the
Divil, is ridiculous, and a conceit fitter for a Rabbin than
a Christian. I hold that the Devil doth really possess some
men, the spirit of Melancholy others, the spirit of Delusion
others ; that, as the Devil is concealed and denyed by some,
so God and good Angels are pretended by others, whereof
the late defection"'' of the Maid of Germany hath left a preg-
nant example.
XXXI. Again, I believe that all that use sorceries, in-
cantations, and spells, are not Witches, or, as we term them,
Magicians. I conceive there is a traditional Magick, not
learned immediately from the Devil, but at second hand from
his Scholars, who, having once the secret betrayed, are able,
and do emperically practise without his advice, they both
proceeding upon the principles of Nature; where actives,
•* Transform. "'Sexual desires.
••.M.S. copies read "detection." The allusion has not been explained.
296 THOMAS BROWNE
aptly conjoyned to disposed passives, will under any Master
produce their effects. Thus I think at first a great part of
Philosophy was Witchcraft; which, being afterward derived
to one another, proved but Philosophy, and was indeed no
more but the honest effects of Nature: what, invented by
us, is Philosophy, learned from him, is Magick. We do
surely owe the discovery of many secrets to the discovery
of good and bad Angels. I could never pass that sentence of
Paracelsus without an asterisk or annotation; Ascendens
constellatimi multa rcvelat qucercntihus magnalia naturce, (i. e.
opera Dei.)®' [The ascending constellation reveals to in-
quirers many of nature's great things.] I do think that many
mysteries ascribed to our own inventions have been the
courteous revelations of Spirits; (for those noble essences in
Heaven bear a friendly regard unto their fellow Natures on
Earth;) and therefore believe that those many prodigies and
ominous prognosticks, which fore-run the mines of States,
Princes, and private persons, are the charitable premonitions
oi good Angels, which more careless enquiries term but the
effects of chance and nature.
XXXII. Now, besides these particular and divided Spirits,
there may be (for ought I know,) an universal and common
Spirit to the whole World. It was the opinion of Plato, and
it is yet of the Hermetical Philosophers. If there be a com-
mon nature that unites and tyes the scattered and divided
individuals into one species, why may there not be one that
imites them all ? However, I am sure there is a common
Spirit that plays within us, yet makes no part of us ; and
that is, the Spirit of God, the fire and scintillation of that
noble and mighty Essence, which is the life and radical heat
of Spirits, and those essences that know not the vertue of
the Sun; a fire quite contrary to the fire of Hell. This is
that gentle heat that brooded on the waters, and in six days
hatched the World ; this is that irradiation that dispels the
mists of Hell, the clouds of horrour, fear, sorrow, despair;
and preserves the region of the mind in serenity. Whoso-
ever feels not the warm gale and gentle ventilation of this
Spirit, though I feel his pulse, I dare not say he lives: for
truely, without this, to me there is no heat under the
*^ " Thereby is meant our good angel appointed us from our nativity." — T. B.
RELIGIO MEDICI 297
Tropick; nor any light, though I dwelt in the hody of
the Sun.
As, when the labouring Sun hath wrought his track
Up to the top of lofty Cancers back,
The ycie Ocean cracks, the frozen pole
Thaws with the heat of the Celestial coale;
So, when Thy absent beams begin t' impart
Again a Solstice on my frozen heart.
My winter's ov'r, my dropping spirits sing.
And every part revives into a Spring.
But if Thy quickning beams a while decline,
And with their light bless not this Orb of mine,
A chilly frost surpriseth every member.
And in the midst of June I feel December.
O how this earthly temper doth debase
The noble Soul, in this her humble place ;
Whose wingy nature ever doth aspire
To reach that place whence first it took its fire.
These flames I feel, which in my heart do dwell.
Are not Thy beams, but take their fire from Hell :
O quench them all, and let Thy Light divine
Be as the Sun to this poor Orb of mine ;
And to Thy sacred Spirit convert those fires.
Whose earthly fumes choak my devout aspires.
XXXIII. Therefore for Spirits, I am so far from denying
their existence, that I could easily believe, that not onely
whole Countries, but particular persons, have their Tutelary
and Guardian Angels. It is not a new opinion of the Church
of Rome, but an old one of Pythagoras and Plato; there is
no heresie in it; and if not manifestly defin'd in Scripture,
yet is it an opinion of a good and wholesome use in the
course and actions of a mans life, and would serve as an
Hypothesis to salve many doubts, whereof common Philos-
ophy affordeth no solution. Now, if you demand my opin-
ion and Metaphysicks of their natures, I confess them very
shallow; most of them in a negative way, like that of God;
or in a comparative, between ourselves and fellow-creatures ;
for there is in this Universe a Stair, or manifest Scale of
creatures, rising not disorderly, or in confusion, but with a
comely method and proportion. Between creatures of meer
existence, and things of life, there is a large disproportion of
nature; between plants, and animals or creatures of sense,
a wider difference; between them and Man, a far greater:
and if the proportion hold one, between Man and Angels
296 THOMAS BROWNE
there should be yet a greater. We do not comprehend their
natures, who retain the first definition of Porphyry, and dis-
tinguish them from our selves by immortality ; for before his
Fall, 'tis thought, Man also was Immortal ; yet must we needs
affirm that he had a different essence from the Angels. Hav-
ing therefore no certain knowledge of their Natures, 'tis no
bad method of the Schools, whatsoever perfection we find
obscurely in our selves, in a more compleat and absolute way
to ascribe unto them. I believe they have an extemporary
knowledge, and upon the first motion of their reason do what
we cannot without study or deliberation ; that they know
things by their forms, and define by specifical difference what
we describe by accidents and properties ; and therefore prob-
abilities to us may be demonstrations unto them: that they
have knowledge not onely of the specifical. but numerical
forms of individuals, and understand by what reserved dif-
ference each single Hypostasis** (besides the relation to its
species.) becomes its numerical self: that, as the Soul hath a
power to move the body it informs, so there's a faculty to
move any, though inform none : ours upon restraint of time,
place, and distance ; but that invisible hand that conveyed
Habakkuk to the Lyons Den,"* or Philip to Azotus,™ in-
fringeth this rule, and hath a secret conveyance, wherewith
mortality is not acquainted. H they have that intuitive knowl-
edge, whereby as in reflexion they behold the thoughts of
one another. I cannot peremptorily deny but they know a
great part of ours. They that, to refute the Invocation of
Saints, have denied that they have any knowledge of our
affairs below, have proceeded too far. and must pardon my
opinion, till I can thoroughly answer that piece of Scripture,
At the conversion of a sinner the Angels in Heaven rejoyce.
I cannot, with those in that great Father.'* securely interpret
the work of the first day. Fiat lux, [Let there be light] to the
creation of Angels : though I confess, there is not any crea-
ture'' that hath so neer a glympse of their nature as light in
the Sun and Elements. We stile it a bare accident ; but, where
it subsists alone, 'tis a spiritual Substance, and may be an
Angel : in brief, conceive light invisible, and that is a Spirit.
•* Distinct substance. ** Bel and the Dragon, 36. ™ Acts viii. 40.
'^The idea is found in both St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine.
'* Created thing.
RELIGIO MEDICI 290
XXXIV. These are certainly the Magisterial and master-
pieces of the Creator, the Flower, or (as we may say,) the
best part of nothing ; actually existing, what we are but in
hopes and probability. We are onely that amphibious piece
between a corporal and spiritual Essence, that middle form
that links those two together, and makes good the Method of
God and Nature, that jumps not from extreams, but unites
the incompatible distances by some middle and participating
natures. That we are the breath and similitude of God, it
is indisputable, and upon record of Holy Scripture; but to
call ourselves a Microcosm, or little World, I thought it only
a pleasant trope of Rhetorick, till my neer judgement and
second thoughts told me there was a real truth therein. For
first we are a rude mass, and in the rank of creatures which
onely are, and have a dull kind of being, not yet priviledged
with life, or preferred to sense or reason; next we live the
life of Plants, the life of Animals, the life of Men, and at
last the life of Spirits, running on in one mysterious nature
those five kinds of existences, which comprehend the crea-
tures not onely of the World, but of the Universe. Thus is
Man that great and true Amphibium, whose nature is dis-
posed to live, not onely like other creatures in divers ele-
ments, but in divided and distinguished worlds : for though
there be but one to sense, there are two to reason, the one
visible, the other invisible ; whereof Moses seems to have
left description, and of the other so obscurely, that some
parts thereof are yet in controversie. And truely, for the
first chapters of Genesis. I must confess a great deal of ob-
scurity ; though Divines have to the power of humane reason
endeavoured to make all go in a literal meaning, yet those
allegorical interpretations are also probable, and perhaps the
mystical method of Moses bred up in the Hieroglyphical
Schools of the Egyptians.
XXXV. Now for that immaterial world, methinks we need
not wander so far as beyond the first moveable ;'' for even
in this material Fabrick the Spirits walk as freely exempt
from the affection of time, place, and motion, as beyond the
extreamest circumference. Do but extract from the corpu-
lency of bodies, or resolve things beyond their first matter,
''^ Primum mobile, the tenth sphere of the old astronomy.
300 THOMAS BROWNE
and you discover the habitation of Angels, which if I call the
ubiquitary and omnipresent Essence of God, I hope I shall
not offend Divinity : for before the Creation of the World
God was really all things. For the Angels He created no new
World, or determinate mansion, and therefore they are
everywhere where is His Essence, and do live at a distance
even in Himself. That God made all things for Man, is in
some sense true, yet not so far as to subordinate the Crea-
tion of those purer Creatures unto ours, though as niinistring
Spirits they do, and are willing to fulfil the will of God in
these lower and sublunary affairs of Man. God made all
things for Himself, and it is impossible He should make them
for any other end than His own Glory; it is all He can re-
ceive, and all that is without Himself. For, honour being
an external adjunct, and in the honourer rather than in the
person honoured, it was necessary to make a Creature, from
whom He might receive this homage ; and that is, in the
other world, Angels, in this, Man; which when we neglect,
we forget the very end of our Creation, and may justly
provoke God, not onely to repent that He hath made the
World, but that He hath sworn He would not destroy it.
That there is but one World, is a conclusion of Faith:
Aristotle with all his Philosophy hath not been able to prove
it, and as weakly that the World was eternal. That dispute
much troubled the Pen of the ancient Philosophers, but
Moses decided that question, and all is salved with the new
term of a Creation, that is, a production of something out of
nothing. And what is that ? whatsoever is opposite to som.e-
thing; or more exactly, that which is truely contrary unto
God: for He onely is, all others have an existence with
dependency, and are something but by a distinction. And
herein is Divinity conformant unto Philosophy, and genera-
tion not onely founded on contrarieties, but also creation ;
God, being all things, is contrary unto nothing, out of which
were made all things, and so nothing became something, and
Omneity informed Nullity into an Essence.
XXXVI. The whole Creation is a Mystery, and partic-
ularly that of Man. At the blast of His mouth were the
rest of the Creatures made, and at His bare word they
started out of nothing: but in the frame of Man (as the
RELIGIO MEDICI 301
Text describes it.) He played the sensible operator, and
seemed not so much to create, as make him. When He had
separated the materials of other creatures, there consequently
resulted a form and soul ; but, having raised the walls of
Man, He was driven to a second and harder creation of a
substance like Himself, an incorruptible and immortal Soul.
For these two affections'* we have the Philosophy and opin-
ion of the Heathens, the flat affirmative of Plato, and not a
negative from Aristotle. There is another scruple cast in by
Divinity concerning its production, much disputed in the
Germane auditories, and with that indift'erency and equality
of arguments, as leave the controversie undetermined. I
am not of Paracelsus mind, that boldly delivers a receipt to
make a man without conjunction;'" yet cannot but wonder at
the multitude of heads that do deny traduction,'" having no
other argument to confirm their belief then that Rhetorical
sentence and Antimctathcsis"' of Augustine, Creando infun-
ditur, infundcndo crcatur. [By creating it is poured in, by
pouring in it is created.] Either opinion will consist well
enough wath Religion: yet I should rather incline to this,
did not one objection haunt me, (not wrung from specula-
tions and subtilties, but from common sense and observation ;
not pickt from the leaves of any Author, but bred amongst
the weeds and tares of mine own brain;) and this is a con-
clusion from the equivocal and monstrous productions in the
conjunction of j\Ian with Beast: for if the Soul of man be
not transmitted and transfused in the seed of the Parents,
why are not those productions meerly beasts, but have also
an impression and tincture of reason in as high a measure
as it can evidence it self in those improper Organs? Nor,
truely, can I peremptorily deny that the Soul, in this her
sublunary estate, is wholly and in all acceptions'* inorgan-
ical; but that for the performance of her ordinary actions
there is required not onely a symmetry and proper disposi-
tion of Organs, but a Crasis" and temper correspondent to
its operations : yet is not this mass of flesh and visible struc-
ture the instrument and proper corps of the Soul, but rather
'* Qualities. "^ Sexual intercourse.
■'■" IDerivation (of the soul from the parents).
'■' The giving of two different meanings from two different arrangements
of the same words. '* Acceptations. ™ Constitution,
302 THOMAS BROWNE
of Sense, and that the hand of Reason. In our study of
Anatomy there is a mass of mysterious Philosophy, and such
as reduced the very Heathens to Divinity: yet, amongst all
those rare discoveries and curious pieces I find in the Fabrick
of Man, I do not so much content my self, as in that I find
not, there is no Organ or Instrument for the rational Soul;
for in the brain, which we term the seat of Reason, there Is
not anything of moment more than I can discover in the
crany®° of a beast : and this is a sensible and no inconsiderable
argument of the inorganity of the Soul, at least in that sense
we usually so receive it. Thus we are men, and we know not
how: there is something in us that can be without us, and
will be after us ; though it is strange that it hath no history
what it was before us, nor cannot tell how it entred in us.
XXXVII. Now, for these walls of flesh, wherein the Soul
doth seem to be immured before the Resurrection, it is noth-
ing but an elemental composition, and a Fabrick that must
fall to ashes. All Hesh is grass, is not onely metaphorically,
but litterally, true ; for all those creatures we behold are but
the herbs of the field, digested into flesh in them, or more
remotely carnified^^ in our selves. Nay further, we are what
we all abhor. Anthropophagi and Cannibals, devourers not
onely of men, but of our selves ; and that not in an allegory,
but a positive truth : for all this mass of flesh which we be-
hold, came in at our mouths ; this frame we look upon, hath
been upon our trenchers ; in brief, we have devour'd our
selves. I cannot believe the wisdom of Pythagoras did ever
positively, and in a literal sense, affirni his Metempsychosis,
or impossible transmigration of the Souls of men into beasts.
Of all Metamorphoses or transmigrations, I believe only one,
that is of Lots wife ; for that of Nebuchodonosor proceeded
not so far : in all others I conceive there is no further verity
than is contained in their implicite sense and morality. I
believe that the whole frame of a beast doth perish, and is
left in the same state after death as before it was materialled
unto life: that the Souls of men know neither contrary nor
corruption; that they subsist beyond the body, and outlive
death by the priviledge of their proper natures, and without
a Miracle ; that the Souls of the faithful, as they leave Earth,
8» Skull, " Made flesh.
RELIGIO MEDICI 303
take possession of Heaven : that those apparitions and ghosts
of departed persons are not the wandring souls of men, but
the unquiet walks of Devils, prompting and suggesting us
unto mischief, blood, and villany ; instilling and stealing into
our hearts that the blessed Spirits are not at rest in their
graves, but wander sollicitous of the affairs of the World.
But that those phantasms appear often, and do frequent
Ccemeteries, Charnel-houses, and Churches, it is because
those are the dormitories of the dead, where the Devil, like
an insolent Champion, beholds with pride the spoils and
Trophies of his Victory over Adam.
XXXVIII. This is that dismal conquest we all deplore,
that makes us so often cry, O Adam, quid fecisti? [O Adam,
what hast thou done ?] I thank God I have not those strait
ligaments, or narrow obligations to the World, as to dote on
life, or be convulst and tremble at the name of death. Not
that I am insensible of the dread and horrour thereof; or
by raking into the bowels of the deceased, continual sight of
Anatomies, Skeletons, or Cadaverous reliques, like Vespil-
loes,^' or Grave-makers, I am become stupid, or have forgot
the apprehension of Mortality ; but that, marshalling all the
horrours, and contemplating the extremities thereof, I find
not any thing therein able to daunt the courage of a man,
much less a well-resolved Christian ; and therefore am not
angry at the errour of our first Parents, or unwilling to bear
a part of this common fate, and like the best of them to dye,
that is, to cease to breathe, to take a farewel of the elements,
to be a kind of nothing for a moment, to be within one in-
stant of a Spirit. When I take a full view and circle of my
self without this reasonable moderator, and equal piece of
Justice, Death, I do conceive my self the miserablest person
extant. Were there not another life that I hope for, all the
vanities of this World should not intreat a moments breath
from me ; could the Devil work my belief to imagine I could
never dye, I would not outlive that very thought. I have so
abject a conceit*^ of this common way of existence, this re-
taining to the Sun and Elements, T cannot think this is to
be a Man, or to live according to the dignity of humanity.
In exspectation of a better, I can with patience embrace this
*" Latin, corpse-bearers. *^ Idea.
304 THOMAS BROWNE
life, yet in m}^ best meditations do often defie death; I honour
any man that contemns it, nor can I highly love any that is
afraid of it : this makes me naturally love a Souldier, and
honour those tattered and contemptible Regiments that will
die at the command of a Sergeant. For a Pagan there may
be some motives to be in love with Hfe ; but for a Christian
to be amazed at death, I see not how he can escape this
Dilemma, that he is too sensible of this life, or hopeless of
the life to come.
XXXIX. Some Divines count Adam thirty years old at
his Creation, because they suppose him created in the per-
fect age and stature of man. And surely we are all out of
the computation of our age, and every man is some months
elder than he bethinks him ; for we live, move, have a being,
and are subject to the actions of the elements, and the malice
of diseases, in that other World, the truest Microcosm, the
Womb of our Mother. For besides that general and common
existence we are conceived to hold in our Chaos, and whilst
we sleep within the bosome of our causes, we enjoy a being
and life in three distinct worlds, wherein we receive most
manifest graduations. In that obscure World and Womb
of our Mother, our time is short, computed by the Moon,
yet longer then the days of many creatures that behold the
Sun ; our selves being not yet without life, sense, and rea-
son; though for the manifestation of its actions, it awaits
the opportunity of objects, and seems to live there but in its
root and soul of vegetation. Entring afterwards upon the
scene of the World, we arise up and become another crea-
ture, performing the reasonable actions of man, and ob-
scurely manifesting that part of Divinity in us; but not
in complement^ and perfection, till we have once more cast
our secondine,^ that is, this slough of flesh, and are deliv-
ered into the last World, that is, that ineffable place of Paul,
that proper ubi^ of Spirits. The smattering I have of the
Philosophers Stone (which is something more than the per-
fect exaltation of gold,) hath taught me a great deal of
Divinity, and instructed my belief, how that immortal spirit
and incorruptible substance of my Soul may lye obscure,
and sleep a while within this house of flesh. Those strange
^ Completeness. ^ After-birth. ^ Dwelling-place.
RELIGIO MEDICI 305
and mystical transmigrations that I have observed in Silk-
worms, turned my Philosophy into Divinity. There is in
these works of nature, which seem to puzzle reason, some-
thing Divine, and hath more in it then the eye of a common
spectator doth discover.
XL. I am naturally bashful ; nor hath conversation, age,
or travel, been able to effront" or enharden me; yet I have
one part of modesty which I have seldom discovered
in another, that is, (to speak truely,) I am not so
much afraid of death, as ashamed thereof. 'Tis the very
disgrace and ignominy of our natures, that in a moment
can so disfigure us, that our nearest friends. Wife, and Chil-
dren, stand afraid and start at us: the Birds and Beasts of
the field, that before in a natural fear obeyed us, forgetting
all allegiance, begin to prey upon us. This very conceit hath
in a tempest disposed and left me willing to be swallowed
up in the abyss of waters, wherein I had perished unseen,
unpityed, without wondering eyes, tears of pity, Lectures of
mortality, and none had said,
Quantum mutatus ab illo!
[How changed from that manlj
Not that I am ashamed of the Anatomy of my parts, or can
accuse Nature for playing the bungler in any part of me, or
my own vitious life for contracting any shameful disease upon
me, whereby I might not call my self as wholesome a morsel
for the worms as any.
XLL Some, upon the courage of a fruitful issue, wherein,
as in the truest Chronicle, they seem to outlive themselves,
can with greater patience away with death. This conceit
and counterfeit subsisting in our progenies seems to me a
meer fallacy, unworthy the desires of a man that can but
conceive a thought of the next World ; who, in a nobler am-
bition, should desire to live in his substance in Heaven,
rather than his name and shadow in the earth. And there-
fore at my death I mean to take a total adieu of the World,
not caring for a Monument, History or Epitaph, not so much
as the bare memory of my name to be found any where but
^ Embolden.
306 THOMAS BROWNE
in the universal Register of God. I am not yet so Cynical
as to approve the Testament of Diogenes;^ nor' do I alto-
gether allow that Rodomontado^^ of Lucan,
CiFlo tegitur, qui non habet urnam.
He that unburied lies wants not his Herse,
For unto him a Tomb's the Universe.
but commend in my calmer judgement those ingenuous in-
tentions that desire to sleep by the urns of their Fathers,
and strive to go the neatest way unto corruption. I do not
envy the temper of Crows and Daws,"* nor the numerous and
weary days of our Fathers before the Flood. If there be
any truth in Astrology, I may outlive a Jubilee:"* as yet I
have not seen one revolution of Saturn,"" nor hath my
pulse beat thirty years; and yet, excepting one, have seen
the Ashes and left under ground all the Kings of Europe;
have been contemporary to three Emperours, four Grand
Signiours. and as many Popes. Methinks I have outlived
my self, and begin to be weary of the Sun ; I have shaken
hands with delight, in my warm blood and Canicular"' days, I
perceive I do anticipate the vices of age ; the World to me is
but a dream or mock-show, and we all therein but Panta-
lones and Anticks, to my severer contemplations.
XLII. It is not, I confess, an unlawful Prayer to desire to
surpass the days of our Saviour, or wish to outlive that age
wherein He thought fittest to dye; yet if (as Divinity af-
firms,) there shall be no gray hairs in Heaven, but all shall
rise in the perfect state of men, we do but outlive
those perfections in this World, to be recalled unto them
by a greater Miracle in the next, and run on here but
to be retrograde hereafter. Were there any hopes to out-
live vice, or a point to be super-annuated from sin, it were
worthy our knees to implore the days of Methuselah.
But age doth not rectify, but incurvate"* our natures, turn-
ing bad dispositions into worser habits, and (like diseases,)
** " Who willed his friend not to bury him, but to hang him up with a
staflEe in his hand to fright away the crowes." — T. B.
** Boastful utterance.
*" These birds were supposed to live several times the length of human life.
^"^ Fifty 3'ears. *- Thirty years.
"Dog-days: here, figuratively, for young manhood. ** Make crooked.
RELIGIO MEDICI 307
brings on incurable vices ; for every day as we grow weaker
in age, we grow stronger in sin, and the number of our days
doth but make our sins innumerable. The same vice com-
mitted at sixteen, is not the same, though it agree in all
other circumstances, at forty, but swells and doubles from
the circumstance of our ages ; wherein, besides the constant
and inexcusable habit of transgressing, the maturity of our
judgement cuts off pretence unto excuse or pardon. Every
sin, the oftner it is committed, the more it acquireth in the
quality of evil ; as it succeeds in time, so it proceeds in de-
grees of badness ; for as they proceed they ever multiply,
and, like figures in Arithmetick, the last stands for more than
all that went before it. And though I think no man can live
well once, but he that could live twice, yet for my own part
I would not live over my hours past, or begin again the
thread of my days : not upon Cicero's ground, because I have
lived them well, but for fear I should live them worse. I find
my growing Judgment daily instruct me how to be better,
but my untamed affections and confirmed vitiosity makes me
daily do worse. I find in my confirmed age the same sins I
discovered in my youth ; I committed many then, because I
was a Child ; and because I commit them still, I am yet an
infant. Therefore I perceive a man may be twice a Child,
before the days of dotage ; and stand in need of ^sons
Bath*^ before threescore.
XLIII. And truly there goes a great deal of providence to
produce a mans life unto threescore : there is more required
than an able temper for those years ; though the radical hu-
mour** contain in it sufficient oyl for seventy, yet I perceive
in some it gives no light past thirty : men assign not all the
causes of long life, that write whole Books thereof. They
that found themselves on the radical balsome,*^ or vital
sulphur*^ of the parts, determine not why Abel lived not so
long as Adam. There is therefore a secret glome°' or
bottome** of our days: 'twas His wisdom to determine them,
but His perpetual and waking providence that fulfils and
accomplisheth them ; wherein the spirits, ourselves, and all
•° For restoring youth.
•*The moisture essential to vitality according to the old physiology.
*T Supposed sources of longevity. "^ Ball (of worsted).
308 THOMAS BROWNE
the creatures of God in a secret and disputed way do execute
His will. Let them not therefore complain of immaturity
that die about thirty; they fall but like the whole World,
whose solid and well-composed substance must not expect
the duration and period of its constitution : when all things
are completed in it, its age is accomplished ; and the last and
general fever may as naturally destroy it before six thou-
sand, as me before forty. There is therefore some other
hand that twines the thread of life than that of Nature : we
are not onely ignorant in Antipathies and occult qualities ; our
ends are as obscure as our beginnings ; the line of our days
is drawn by night, and the various effects therein by a pensil
that is invisible ; wherein though we confess our ignorance,
I am sure we do not err if we say it is the hand of God.
XLIV. I am much taken with two verses of Lucan, since
I have been able not onely, as we do at School, to construe,
but understand :
Victurosque Dei celattt, iit vivere durent,
Felix esse viori.^^
We're all deluded, vainly searching ways
To make us happy by the length of days;
For cunningly to make 's protract this breath,
The Gods conceal the happiness of Death.
There be many excellent strains in that Poet, wherewith his
Stoical Genius hath liberally supplied him; and truely there
are singular pieces in the Philosophy of Zeno, and doctrine
of the Stoicks, which I perceive, delivered in a Pulpit, pass
for current Divinity: yet herein are they in extreams, that
can allow a man to be his own Assassine, and so highly extol
the end and suicide of Cato. This is indeed not to fear
death, but yet to be afraid of life. It is a brave act of
valour to contemn death ; but where life is more terrible than
death, it is then the truest valour to dare to live. And herein
Religion hath taught us a noble example ; for all the valiant
acts of Curtius, Scevola, or Codrus, do not parallel or match
that one of Job; and sure there is no torture to the rack of a
disease, nor any Ponyards in death it self like those in the
way or prologue to it.
»» Lucan's " Pharsalia," iv. sio.
RELIGIO MEDICI 309
Emori nolo, sed me esse inortuum nihil ctiro.^^^
I would Dot die, but care not to be dead.
Were I of Caesar's Religion, I should be of his desires, and
wish rather to go off at one blow, then to be sawed in pieces
by the grating torture of a disease. Men that look no
farther than their outsides, think health an appurtenance
unto life, and quarrel with their constitutions for being sick ;
but I, that have examined the parts of man, and know upon
what tender filaments that Fabrick hangs, do wonder that
we are not always so ; and, considering the thousand doors
that lead to death, do thank my God that we can die but
once. 'Tis not onely the mischief of diseases, and the villany
of poysons, that make an end of us ; we vainly accuse the
fury of Guns, and the new inventions of death ; it is in the
power of every hand to destroy us, and we are beholding
unto every one we meet, he doth not kill us. There is there-
fore but one comfort left, that, though it be in the power of
the weakest arm to take away life, it is not in the strongest
to deprive us of death : God would not exempt Himself from
that, the misery of immortality in the flesh. He undertook
not that was immortal. Certainly there is no happiness
within this circle of flesh, nor is it in the Opticks of these
eyes to behold felicity. The first day of our Jubilee is
Death ; the Devil hath therefore failed of his desires : we
are happier with death than we should have been without
it : there is no misery but in himself, where there is no end
of misery; and so indeed, in his own sense, the Stoick"^ is
in the right. He forgets that he can dye who complains of
misery; we atre in the power of no calamity while death is
in our own.
XLV. Now, besides this literal and positive kind of death,
there are others whereof Divines make mention, and those,
I think, not meerly Metaphorical, as mortification, dying
unto sin and the World. Therefore, I say, every man hath a
double Horoscope, one of his humanity, his birth ; another
of his Christianity, his baptism ; and from this do I compute
or calculate my Nativity, not reckoning those Horcz com-
"X" Quoted by Cicero, " Tusc. Quaest." i. 8, from Epichaj:mus.
'M fn holding that death is no evil.
310 THOMAS BROWNE
bustce^"' and odd days, or esteeming my self any thing, before
I was my Saviours, and inrolled in the Register of Christ.
Whosoever enjoys not this Hfe, I count him but an appari-
tion, though he wear about him the sensible affections^"^ of
flesh. In these moral acceptions,^"* the way to be immortal
is to dye daily : nor can I think I have the true Theory of
death, when I contemplate a skull, or behold a Skeleton,
with those vulgar imaginations it casts upon us ; I have
therefore enlarged that common Memento mori, [Remember
you must die] into a more Christian memorandum. Memento
quatuor Novissima, [Remember the four last things] those
four inevitable points of us all. Death, Judgement, Heaven,
and Hell. Neither did the contemplations of the Heathens
rest in their graves, without a further thought of Rha-
damanth,^"* or some judicial proceeding after death, though
in another way, and upon suggestion of their natural rea-
sons. I cannot but marvail from what Sibyl or Oracle they
stole the Prophesie of the Worlds destruction by fire, or
whence Lucan learned to say,
Coinniunis mundo superest rogus, ossibus astra
Misturns}'^
There yet remains to th' World one common Fire,
Wherein our bones with stars shall make one Pyre.
I believe the World grows near its end, yet is neither old nor
decayed, nor shall ever perish upon the mines of its own
Principles. As the work of Creation was above Nature, so
is its adversary, annihilation ; without which the World
hath not its end, but its mutation. Now what force should
be able to consume it thus far, without the breath of God,
which is the truest consuming flame, my Philosophy cannot
inform me. Some believe there went not a minute to the
Worlds creation, nor shall there go to its destruction ; those
six days, so punctually described, make not to them one mo-
ment, but rather seem to manifest the method and Idea of
the great work of the intellect of God, than the manner
how He proceeded in its operation. I cannot dream that
'"- Combust hours, " when the moon is in conjunction and obscured by
the sun." i"" Qualities. i"* Acceptations. ^"^ Judge in Hades,
loa " pharsalia " vii. 814.
RELIGIO MEDICI 311
there should be at the last day any such Judicial proceed-
ing, or calling to the Bar, as indeed the Scripture seems to
imply, and the literal Commentators do conceive : for un-
speakable mysteries in the Scriptures are often delivered in
a vulgar and illustrative way ; and, being written unto man,
are delivered, not as they truely are, but as they may be
understood; wherein, notwithstanding, the dififerent inter-
pretations according to different capacities may stand firm
with our devotion, nor be any way prejudicial to each
single edification.
XLVI. Now to determine the day and year of this in-
evitable time, is not onely convincible^**^ and statute-mad-
ness,"^ but also manifest impiety. How shall we interpret
Elias six thousand years,""* or imagine the secret communi-
cated to a Rabbi, which God hath denyed unto His Angels ?
It had been an excellent Quaere"" to have posed the Devil of
Delphos,"* and must needs have forced him to some strange
amphibology.^^ It hath not onely mocked the predictions of
sundry Astrologers in Ages past, but the prophesies of many
melancholy heads in these present ; who, neither under-
standing reasonably things past or present, pretend a knowl-
edge of things to come: heads ordained onely to manifest
the incredible effects of melancholy, and to fulfil old proph-
ecies rather than be the authors of new. In those days there
shall come Wars and rumours of Wars, to me seems no
prophecy, but a constant truth, in all times verified since it
was pronounced. There shall he signs in the Moon and
Stars; how comes He then like a Thief in the night, when
He gives an item of His coming? That common sign
drawn from the revelation of Antichrist, is as obscure as
any: in our common compute He hath been come these
many years: but for my own part, (to speak freely,) I am
half of opinion that Antichrist is the Philosopher's stone in
Divinity, for the discovery and invention whereof, though
there be prescribed rules and probable inductions, yet hath
hardly any man attained the perfect discovery thereof. That
general opinion that the World grows near its end, hath
10' Capable of proof. "» Madness defined by law. i"" The time of
the existence of the world, according to a tradition ascribed to the school of
Elijah in the Talmud. "" Question. ^^ The oracle of Apollo.
"^ Ambiguity.
312 THOMAS BROWNE
possessed all ages past as nearly as ours. I am afraid that
the Souls that now depart, cannot escape that lingring ex-
postulation of the Saints under the Altar, Qnoiisque,
DoMiNE? Hozv long, O Lord? and groan in the expecta-
tion of that great Jubilee.
XLVII. This is the day that must make good that great
attribute of God, His Justice; that must reconcile those un-
answerable doubts that torment the wisest understandings;
and reduce those seeming inequalities and respective distribu-
tions in this world, to an equality and recompensive Justice
in the next. This is that one day, that shall include and
comprehend all that went before it; wherein, as in the last
scene, all the Actors must enter, to compleat and make up
the Catastrophe of this great piece. This is the day whose
memory hath onely power to make us honest in the dark,
and to be vertuous without a witness.
Ipsa sui pretium virtus sibi^
that Vertue is her own reward, is but a cold principle, and
not able to maintain our variable resolutions in a constant
and setled way of goodness. I have practised that honest
artifice of Seneca, and in my retired and solitary imagina-
tions, to detain me from the foulness of vice, have fancied
to my self the presence of my dear and worthiest friends,
before whom I should lose my head, rather than be vitious :
yet herein I found that there was nought but moral honesty,
and this was not to be vertuous for His sake Who must
reward us at the last. I have tryed if I could reach that
great resolution of his, to be honest without a thought of
Heaven or Hell: and indeed I found, upon a natural inclina-
tion and inbred loyalty unto virtue, that I could serve her
without a livery;"* yet not in that resolved and venerable
way, but that the frailty of my nature, upon an easie tempta-
tion, might be induced to forget her. The life, therefore,
and spirit of all our actions is the resurrection, and a stable
apprehension that our ashes shall enjoy the fruit of our
pious endeavours : without this, all Religion is a Fallacy,
and those impieties of Lucian, Euripides, and Julian, are no
"3 Claudian, " De Mallii Theod. Consul." v. i. "* Reward.
RELIGIO MEDICI SIS'
blasphemies, but subtle verities, and Atheists have been the
onely Philosophers.
XLVIII. How shall the dead arise, is no question of my
Faith ; to believe only possibilities, is not Faith, but meer
Philosophy. Many things are true in Divinity, which are
neither inducible by reason, nor confirmable by sense; and
many things in Philosophy confirmable by sense, yet not in-
ducible by reason. Thus it is impossible by any solid or
demonstrative reasons to perswade a man to believe the
conversion"" of the Needle to the North; though this be
possible, and true, and easily credible, upon a single experi-
ment unto the sense. I believe that our estranged and di-
vided ashes shall unite again ; that our separated dust, after
so many Pilgrimages and transformations into the parts of
Minerals, Plants, Animals, Elements, shall at the Voice of
God return into their primitive shapes, and joyn again to
make up their primary and predestinate forms. As at the
Creation there was a separation of that confused mass into
its species ; so at the destruction thereof there shall be a
separation into its distinct individuals. As at the Creation
of the World, all the distinct species that we behold lay
involved in one mass, till the fruitful Voice of God sepa-
rated this united multitude into its several species ; so at the
last day, when those corrupted reliques shall be scattered
in the Wilderness of forms, and seem to have forgot their
proper habits, God by a powerful Voice shall command them
back into their proper shapes, and call them out by their
single individuals. Then shall appear the fertility of Adam,
and the magick of that sperm"* that hath dilated into so
many millions. I have often beheld as a miracle, that arti-
ficial resurrection and revivification"^ of Mercury, how being
mortified into a thousand shapes, it assumes again its own,
and returns into its numerical"^ self. Let us speak naturally
and like Philosophers, the forms of alterable bodies in these
sensible corruptions perish not ; nor, as we imagine, wholly
quit their mansions, but retire and contract themselves into
their secret and unaccessible parts, where they may best pro-
tect themselves from the action of their Antagonist. A plant
"2 Turning. "* Seed. _ '^ Restoration to its own form.
"s Individual.
314 THOMAS BROWNE
or vegetable consumed to ashes to a contemplative and
school-Philosopher seems utterly destroyed, and the form to
have taken his leave for ever ; but to a sensible Artist the
forms are not perished, but withdrawn into their incom-
bustible part, where they lie secure from the action of that
devouring element. This is made good by experience, which
can from the Ashes of a Plant revive tlie plant, and from its
cinders recall it into its stalk and leaves again. What the
Art of man can do in these inferiour pieces, what blasphemy
is it to affirm the finger of God cannot do in these more
perfect and sensible structures ! This is that mystical Phi-
losophy, from whence no true Scholar becomes an Atheist,
but from the visible effects of nature grows up a real Divine,
and beholds not in a dream, as Ezekiel, but in an ocular and
visible object, the types of his resurrection.
XLIX. Now, the necessary Mansions of our restored
selves are those two contrary and incompatible places we call
Heaven and Hell. To define them, or strictly to determine
what and where these are, surpasseth my Divinity. That
elegant" ° Apostle,'^ which seemed to have a gHmpse of
Heaven, hath left but a negative description thereof; which
neither eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, nor can enter into
the heart of man: he was translated out of himself to behold
it; but, being returned into himself, could not express it. St.
John's description by Emerals, Chrysolites, and precious
Stones, is too weak to express the material Heaven we be-
hold. Briefly therefore, where the Soul hath the full mea-
sure and complement of happiness; where the boundless
appetite of that spirit remains compleatly satisfied, that it can
neither desire addition nor alteration ; that, I think, is truly
Heaven: and this can onely be in the injoyment of that
essence, whose infinite goodness is able to terminate the de-
sires of it self, and the unsatiable wishes of ours : wherever
God will thus manifest Himself, there is Heaven, though
within the circle of this sensible world. Thus the Soul of
man may be in Heaven any where, even within the limits
of his own proper body; and when it ceaseth to live in the
body, it may remain in its own soul, that is, its Creator:
and thus we may say that St. Paul, z^h ether in the body, or
"* Perhaps for eloquent. ^^ St. Paul.
RELIGIO MEDICI 315
out of the body, was yet in Heaven. To place it in the
Empyreal, or beyond the tenth sphear, is to forget the world's
destruction ; for, when this sensible world shall be destroyed,
all shall then be here as it is now there, an Empyreal Heaven,
a quasi vacuity; when to ask where Heaven is, is to demand
where the Presence of God is, or where we have the glory
of that happy vision. Moses, that was bred up in all the
learning of the Egyptians, committed a gross absurdity in
Philosophy, when with these eyes of flesh he desired to see
God, and petitioned his ^laker, that is, Truth it self, to a
contradiction. Those that imagine Heaven and Hell neigh-
bours, and conceive a vicinity between those two extreams,
upon consequence of the Parable, where Dives discoursed
with Lazarus in Abraham's bosome, do too grosly conceive
of those glorified creatures, whose eyes shall easily out-see
the Sun, and behold without a perspective^^ the extreamest
distances: for if there shall be in our glorified eyes, the
faculty of sight and reception of objects, I could think the
visible species there to be in as unlimitable a way as now
the intellectual. I grant that two bodies placed beyond the
tenth sphear, or in a vacuity, according to Aristotle's Phi-
losophy, could not behold each other, because there wants a
body or Medium to hand and transport the visible rays of
the object unto the sense; but when there shall be a general
defect of either Aledium to convey, or light to prepare and
dispose that Medium, and yet a perfect vision, we must sus-
pend the rules of our Philosophy, and make all good by a
more absolute piece of opticks.
L. I cannot tell how to say that fire is the essence of Hell:
I know not what to make of Purgatory, or conceive a flame
that can either prey upon, or purifie the substance of a Soul.
Those flames of Sulphur mention'd in the Scriptures, I take
not to be understood of this present Hell, but of that to
come, where fire shall make up the complement of our tor-
tures, and have a body or subject wherein to manifest its
tyranny. Some, who have had the honour to be textuary in
Divinity, are of opinion it shall be the same specifical fire
with ours. This is hard to conceive; yet can I make good
how even that may prey upon our bodies, and yet not con-
^^ Telescope.
316 THOMAS BROWNE
sume us: for in this material World there are bodies that
persist invincible in the powerfullest flames; and though by
the action of fire they fall into ignition and liquation, yet
will they never suffer a destruction. I would gladly know
how Moses with an actual fire calcined or burnt the Golden
Calf unto powder : for that mystical metal of Gold, whose
solary*^ and celestial nature I admire, exposed unto the
violence of fire, grows onely hot, and liquifies, but con-
sumeth not; so, when the consumable and volatile pieces of
our bodies shall be refined into a more impregnable and
fixed temper like Gold, though they suffer from the action
of flames, they shall never perish, but lye immortal in the
arms of fire. And surely, if this frame must suffer onely by
the action of this element, there will many bodies escape;
and not onely Heaven, but Earth will not be at an end, but
rather a beginning. For at present it is not earth, but a
composition of fire, water, earth, and air; but at that time,
spoiled of these ingredients, it shall appear in a substance
more like it self, its ashes. Philosophers that opinioned the
worlds destruction by fire, did never dream of annihilation,
which is beyond the power of sublunary causes; for the
last and proper action of that element is but vitrification, or
a reduction of a body into glass; and therefore some of our
Chymicks facetiously afflrm, that at the last fire all shall be
christallized and reverberated into glass, which is the ut-
most action of that element. Nor need we fear this term,
annihilation, or wonder that God will destroy the works of
His Creation' for man subsisting, who is, and will then
truely appear, a Microcosm, the world cannot be said to be
destroyed. For the eyes of God^ and perhaps also of our
glorified selves, shall as really behold and contemplate the
World in its Epitome or contracted essence, as now it doth
at large and in its dilated substance. In the seed of a Plant
to the eyes of God, and to the understanding of man, there
exists, though in an invisible way, the perfect leaves, flow-
ers, and fruit thereof; for things that are in posse to the
sense, are actually existent to the understanding. Thus God
beholds all things, Who contemplates as fully His works in
their Epitome, as in their full volume; and beheld as amply
"2-Solar. Astrology associated gold with the sun.
RELIGIO MEDICI 317
the whole world in that Httle compendium of the sixth day,
as in the scattered and dilated pieces of those five before.
LI. Men commonly set forth the torments of Hell by fire,
and the extremity of corporal afflictions, and describe Hell
in the same method that Mahomet doth Heaven. This in-
deed makes a noise, and drums in popular ears : but if this
be the terrible piece thereof, it is not worthy to stand in
diameter"^ with Heaven, whose happiness consists in that
part that is best able to comprehend it, that immortal es-
sence, that translated divinity and colony of God, the Soul.
Surely, though we place Hell under Earth, the Devil's walk
and purine is about it : men speak too popularly who place
it in those flaming mountains, which to grosser apprehensions
represent Hell. The heart of man is the place the Devils
dwell in : I feel sometimes a Hell within my self ; Lucifer
keeps his Court in my breast. Legion is revived in me. There
are as many Hells, as Anaxagoras conceited worfds.^
There was more than one Hell in Magdalene, when there
were seven Devils, for every Devil is an Hell unto himself;
he holds enough of torture in his own ubi, and needs not
the misery of circumference to afflict him : and thus a dis-
tracted Conscience here, is a shadow or introduction unto
Hell hereafter. Who can but pity the merciful intention of
those hands that do destroy themselves? the Devil, were it
in his power, would do the like; which being impossible, his
miseries are endless, and he suffers most in that attribute
wherein he is impassible/^^ his immortality.
LIT. I thank God, and with joy I mention it, I was never
afraid of Hell, nor never grew pale at the description of that
place. I have so fixed my contemplations on Heaven, that I
have almost forgot the Idea of Hell, and am afraid rather to
lose the Joys of the one, than endure the misery of the
other: to be deprived of them is a perfect Hell, and needs,
methinks, no addition to compleat our afflictions. That ter-
rible term hath never detained me from sin. nor do I owe
any good action to the name thereof. I fear God, yet am
not afraid of Him: His Mercies make me ashamed of my
sins, before His Judgements afraid thereof. These are the
^^ In opposition to. ^-* I. e., an infinite number. Tlie doctrine belongs
to Anaxarchus. ^-^ Exempt from decay.
318 THOMAS BROWNE
forced and secondary method of His wisdom, which He
useth but as the last remedy, and upon provocation ; a course
rather to deter the wicked, than incite the virtuous to His
worship. I can hardly think there was ever any scared into
Heaven ; they go the fairest way to Heaven that would serve
God without a Hell; other Mercenaries, that crouch into
Him in fear of Hell, though they term themselves the ser-
vants, are indeed but the slaves, of the Almighty.
LHI. And to be true, and speak my soul, when I survey
the occurrences of my life, and call into account the Finger
of God, I can perceive nothing but an abyss and mass of
mercies, either in general to mankind, or in particular to my
self. And (whether out of the prejudice of my affection, or
an inverting and partial conceit of His mercies, I know not;
but) those which others term crosses, afflictions, judgements,
misfortunes, to me, who inquire farther into them then their
visible effects, they both appear, and in event have ever
proved, the secret and dissembled favours of His affection.
It is a singular piece of Wisdom to apprehend truly, and
without passion, the Works of God, and so well to distinguish
His Justice from His Mercy, as not to miscall those noble
Attributes : yet it is likewise an honest piece of Logick, so to
dispute and argue the proceedings of God, as to distinguish
even His judgments into mercies. For God is merciful unto
all, because better to the worst than the best deserve ; and to
say He punisheth none in this World, though it be a Para-
dox, is no absurdity. To one that hath committed Murther,
if the Judge should only ordain a Fine, it were a madness
to call this a punishment, and to repine at the sentence,
rather than admire the clemency of the Judge. Thus, our
offences being mortal, and deserving not only Death, but
Damnation, if the goodness of God be content to traverse and
pass them over with a loss, misfortune, or disease, what
frensie were it to term this a punishment, rather than an
extremity of mercy, and to groan under the rod of His
Judgements, rather than admire the Scepter of His Mercies !
Therefore to adore, honour, and admire Him, is a debt of
gratitude due from the obligation of our nature, states, and
conditions ; and with these thoughts. He that knows them
best, will not deny that I adore Him. That I obtain Heaven,
RELIGIO MEDICI 319
and the bliss thereof, is accidental, and not the intended
work of my devotion ; it being a felicity I can neither think
to deserve, nor scarce in modesty to expect. For these two
ends of us all, either as rewards or punishments, are merci-
fully ordained and disproportionably disposed unto our ac-
tions ; the one being so far beyond our deserts, the other so
infinitely below our demerits.
LIV. There is no Salvation to those that believe not in
Christ, that is, say some, since His Nativity, and, as Di-
vinity affirmeth, before also; which makes me much appre-
hend^ the ends of those honest Worthies and Philosophers
which dyed before His Incarnation. It is hard to place those
Souls in Hell, whose worthy lives do teach us Virtue on
Earth ; methinks. amongst those many subdivisions of Hell,
there might have been one Limbo left for these. What a
strange vision will it be to see their Poetical fictions con-
verted into Verities, and their imagined and fancied Furies
into real Devils ! How strange to them will sound the His-
tory of Adam, when they shall suffer for him they never
heard of ! when they who derive their genealogy from the
Gods, shall know they are the unhappy issue of sinful man !
It is an insolent part of reason, to controvert the Works of
God, or question the Justice of His proceedings. Could
Humility teach others, as it hath instructed me, to contem-
plate the infinite and incomprehensible distance betwixt the
Creator and the Creature ; or did we seriously perpend that
one simile of St. Paul, Shall the Vessel say to the Potter,
" Why hast thou made me thnsf " it would prevent these
arrogant disputes of reason; nor would we argue the defini-
tive sentence of God, either to Heaven or Hell. Men
that live according to the right rule and law of reason, live
but in their own kind, as beasts do in theirs; who justly obey
the prescript of their natures, and therefore cannot reason-
ably demand a reward of their actions, as onely obeying the
natural dictates of their reason. It will, therefore, and must
at last appear, that all salvation is through Christ; which
verity, I fear, these great examples of virtue must confirm,
and make it good how the perfectest actions of earth have
no title or claim unto Heaven.
1^' Contemplate with fear.
320 THOMAS BROWNE
LV. Nor truely do I think the lives of these, or of any
other, were ever correspondent, or in all points conformable,
unto their doctrines. It is evident that Aristotle transgressed
the rule of his own Ethicks. The Stoicks that condemn pas-
sion, and command a man to laugh in Phalaris^ his Bull,
could not endure without a groan a fit of the Stone or
Colick. The Scepticks that affirmed they knew nothing, even
in that opinion confute themselves, and thought they knew
more than all the World beside. Diogenes I hold to be the
most vain-glorious man of his time, and more ambitious in
refusing all Honours, than Alexander in rejecting none.
Vice and the Devil put a Fallacy upon our Reasons, and, pro-
voking us too hastily to run from it, entangle and profound
us deeper in it. The Duke of Venice, that weds himself unto
the Sea by a Ring of Gold, I will not argue of prodigality,
because it is a solemnity of good use and consequence in the
State ; but the Philosopher that threw his money into the Sea
to avoid Avarice, was a notorious prodigal. There is no
road or ready way to virtue : it is not an easie point of art
to disentangle our selves from this riddle, or web of Sin. To
perfect virtue, as to Religion, there is required a Panoplia, or
compleat armour ; that, whilst we lye at close ward against
one Vice, we lye not open to the venny^ of another. And
indeed wiser discretions that have the thred of reason to con-
duct them, offend without pardon; whereas under-heads may
stumble without dishonour. There go so many circumstances
to piece up one good action, that it is a lesson to be good,
and we are forced to be virtuous by the book. Again, the
Practice of men holds not an equal pace, yea, and often runs
counter to their Theory: we naturally know what is good,
but naturally pursue what is evil : the Rhetorick wherewith
I perswade another, cannot perswade my self. There is a
depraved appetite in us, that will with patience hear the
learned instructions of Reason, but yet perform no farther
than agrees to its own irregular humour. In brief, we all
are monsters, that is, a composition of Man and Beast,
wherein we must endeavor to be as the Poets fancy that wise
man Chiron,^ that is, to have the Region of Man above that
127 j\ Sicilian tyrant of the 6th century b. c, who sacrificed human beings
in a heated brazen bull. ^'^ Assault. ^™ The Centaur.
RELIGIO MEDICI 321
of Beast, and Sense to sit but at the feet of Reason. Lastly,
I do desire with God that all, but yet affirm with men that
few, shall know Salvation ; that the bridge is narrow, the
passage strait, unto life: yet those who do confine the Church
of GoD^ either to particular Nations, Churches, or Families,
have made it far narrower than our Saviour ever meant it.
LVI. The vulgarity of those judgements that wrap the
Church of God in Strabo's cloak"° and restrain it unto
Europe, seem to me as bad Geographers as Alexander, who
thought he had Conquer'd all the World, when he had not
subdued the half of any part thereof. For we cannot deny
the Church of God both in Asia and Africa, if we do not
forget the Peregrinations of the Apostles, the deaths of the
Martyrs, the Sessions of many and (even in our reformed
judgement) lawful Councils, held in those parts in the mi-
nority and nonage of ours. Nor must a few differences, more
remarkable in the eyes of man than perhaps in the judgement
of God, excommunicate from Heaven one another ; much less
those Christians who are in a manner all Martyrs, maintaining
their Faith in the noble way of persecution, and serving God
in the Fire, whereas we honour him but in the Sunshine.
'Tis true we all hold there is a number of Elect, and many
to be saved ; yet, take our Opinions together, and from the
confusion thereof there will be no such thing as salvation,
nor shall any one be saved. For first, the Church of Rome
condemneth us, we likewise them; the Subreformists and
Sectaries sentence the Doctrine of our Church as damnable;
the Atomist,'*^ or Familist,"" reprobates all these; and all
these, them again. Thus, whilst the Mercies of God do
promise us Heaven, our conceits and opinions exclude us
from that place. There must be, therefore, more than one
St. Peter: particular Churches and Sects usurp the gates of
Heaven, and turn the key against each other; and thus we
go to Heaven against each others wills, conceits, and opin-
ions, and, with as much uncharity as ignorance, do err, I
fear, in points not only of our own, but one anothers
salvation.
LVn. I believe many are saved, who to man seem repro-
**' Strabo compared the known world of his time to a cloak.
"^ Apparently a sect of Browne's time.
"* One of the sect called " The Family of Love."
HCIII II
322 THOMAS BROWNE
bated ; and many are reprobated, who, in the opinion and
sentence of man, stand elected. There will appear at the Last
day strange and unexpected examples both of His Justice
and His Mercy; and therefore to define either, is folly in
man, and insolency even in the Devils. Those acute and
subtil spirits, in all their sagacity, can hardly divine who shall
be saved ; which if they could Prognostick, their labour were
at an end, nor need they compass the earth seeking whom
they may devour. Those who, upon a rigid application of
the Law, sentence Solomon unto damnation, condemn not
onely him, but themselves, and the whole World : for, by the
Letter and written Word of God, we are without exception
in the state of Death ; but there is a prerogative of God, and
an arbitrary pleasure above the Letter of His own Law, by
which alone we can pretend unto Salvation, and through
which Solomon might be as easily saved as those who con-
demn him.
LVHL The number of those who pretend unto Salvation,
and those infinite swarms who think to pass through the eye
of this Needle, have much amazed me. That name and com-
pellation of little Flock, doth not comfort, but deject, my
Devotion ; especially when I reflect upon mine own unworthi-
ness, wherein, according to my humble apprehensions, I am
below them all. I believe there shall never be an Anarchy
in Heaven ; but, as there are Hierarchies amongst the Angels,
so shall there be degrees of priority amongst the Saints.
Yet is it (I protest,) beyond my ambition to aspire unto the
first ranks; my desires onely are (and I shall be happy
therein,) to be but the last man, and bring up the Rere in
Heaven.
LIX. Again, I am confident and fully perswaded, yet dare
not take my oath, of my Salvation. I am as it were sure,
and do believe without all doubt, that there is such a City
as Constantinople ; yet for me to take my Oath thereon were
a kind of Perjury, because I hold no infallible warrant from
my own sense to confirm me in the certainty thereof. And
truly, though many pretend an absolute certainty of their
Salvation, yet, when an humble Soul shall contemplate her
own unworthiness, she shall meet with many doubts, and
suddenly find how little we stand in need of the Precept of
RELIGIO MEDICI 323
St. Paul, Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.
That which is the cause of my Election, I hold to be the
cause of my Salvation, which was the mercy and beneplacif ^^
of God, before I was, or the foundation of the World. Before
Abraham was, I am, is the saying of Christ; yet is it true in
some sense, if I say it of my self ; for I was not onely before
my self, but Adam, that is, in the Idea of God, and the decree
of that Synod held from all Eternit)^ And in this sense, I
say, the World was before the Creation, and at an end be-
fore it had a beginning; and thus was I dead before I was
alive: though my grave be England, my dying place was
Paradise : and Eve miscarried of me before she conceiv'd of
Cain.
LX. Insolent zeals,"* that do decry good Works and rely
onely upon Faith, take not away merit : for, depending upon
the efficacy of their Faith, they enforce the condition of GoD,
and in a more sophistical way do seem to challenge Heaven.
It was decreed by God, that only those that lapt in the water
like Dogs, should have the honour to destroy the Midianites ;
yet could none of those justly challenge, or imagine he de-
served, that honour thereupon. I do not deny but that true
Faith, and such as God requires, is not onely a mark or
token, but also a means, of our Salvation; but where to find
this, is as obscure to me as my last end. And if our Saviour
could object unto His own Disciples and Favourites, a Faith,
that, to the quantity of a grain of Mustard-seed, is able to
remove Mountains ; surely, that which we boast of, is not
any thing, or at the most, but a remove from nothing. This
is the Tenor of my belief; wherein though there be many
things singular, and to the humour of my irregular self, yet,
if they square not with maturer Judgements, I disclaim them,
and do no further father them, than the learned and best
judgements shall authorize them.
'8* Good pleasure. i** Zealots.
RELIGIO MEDICI
THE SECOND PART
NOW for that other Virtue of Charity, without which
Faith is a meer notion, and of no existence, I have
ever endeavoured to nourish the merciful disposition
and humane incHnation I borrowed from my Parents, and
regulate it to the written and prescribed Laws of Charity.
And if I hold the true Anatomy of my self, I am delineated
and naturally framed to such a piece of virtue; for I am of
a constitution so general, that it consorts and sympathiseth
with all things. I have no antipathy, or rather Idiosyn-
crasie, in dyet, humour, air, any thing. I wonder not at the
French for their dishes of Frogs, Snails and Toadstools,
nor at the Jews for Locusts and Grasshoppers ; but being
amongst them, make them my common Viands, and I find
they agree with my Stomach as well as theirs. I could di-
gest a Salad gathered in a Church-yard, as well as in a
Garden. I cannot start at the presence of a Serpent,
Scorpion, Lizard, or Salamander: at the sight of a Toad or
Viper, I find in me no desire to take up a stone to destroy
them. I feel not in my self those common Antipathies that
I can discover in others: those National repugnances do
not touch me, nor do I behold with prejudice the French,
Italian, Spaniard, or Dutch: but where I find their actions
in balance with my Country-men's. I honour, love, and em-
brace them in the same degree. I was born in the eighth
Climate,^ but seem for to be framed and constellated unto all.
I am no Plant that will not prosper out of a Garden. All
places, all airs, make unto me one Countrey ; I am in England
every where, and under any Meridian. I have been ship-
* Region of the earth's surface, used like our degrees of latitude.
324
RELIGIO MEDICI 325
wrackt, yet am not enemy with the Sea or Winds; I can
study, play, or sleep in a Tempest. In brief, I am averse
from nothing: my Conscience would give me the lye if I
should say I absolutely detest or hate any essence but the
Devil; or so at least abhor any thing, but that we might
come to composition. If there be any among those common
objects of hatred I do contemn and laugh at, it is that great
enemy of Reason, Virtue and Religion, the IMuItitude: that
numerous piece of monstrosity, which, taken asunder, seem
men, and the reasonable creatures of God; but, confused
together, make but one great beast, and a monstrosity more
prodigious than Hydra. It is no breach of Charity to call
these Fools; it is the style all holy Writers have afforded
them, set down by Solomon in Canonical Scripture, and a
point of our Faith to believe so. Neither in the name of
Multitude do I onely include the base and minor sort of
people ; there is a rabble even amongst the Gentry, a sort of
Plebeian heads, whose fancy moves with the same wheel as
these ; men in the same Level with Mechanicks, though their
fortunes do somewhat guild their infirmities, and their
purses compound for their follies. But as, in casting ac-
count, three or four men together come short in account of
one man placed by himself below them ; so neither are a
troop of these ignorant Doradoe^ of that true esteem and
value, as many a forlorn person, whose condition doth place
him below their feet. Let us speak like Politicians :^ there
is a Nobility without Heraldry, a natural dignity, whereby
one man is ranked with another, another filed before him,
according to the quality of his Desert, and preheminence of
his good parts. Though the corruption of these times and
the byas of present practice wheel another way, thus it was
in the first and primitive Commonwealths, and is yet in the
integrity and Cradle of well-order'd Polities, till corruption
getteth ground ; ruder desires labouring after that which
wiser considerations contemn, every one having a liberty to
amass and heap up riches, and they a licence or faculty to
do or purchase any thing.
II. This general and indifferent temper of mine doth more
nearly dispose me to this noble virtue. It is a happiness to
'Spanish, the name of a fish: here=fools. ^ Statesmen.
326 THOMAS BROWNE
be born and framed unto virtue, and to grow up from the
seeds of nature, rather than the inoculation and forced graffs
of education : yet if we are directed only by our particular
Natures, and regulate our inclinations by no higher rule
than that of our reasons, we are but Moralists; Divinity
will still call us Heathens. Therefore this great work of
charity must have other motives, ends, and impulsions. I
give no alms only to satisfie the hunger of my Brother, but
to fulfil and accomplish the Will and Command of my God:
I draw not my purse for his sake that demands it, but His
That enjoyned it: I relieve no man upon the Rhetorick of his
miseries, nor to content mine own commiserating disposi-
tion ; for this is still but moral charity, and an act that oweth
more to passion than reason. He that relieves another upon
the bare suggestion and bowels of pity, doth not this, so
much for his sake as for his own ; for by compassion we
make others misery our own, and so, by relieving them, we
reli«jve our selves also. It is as erroneous a conceit to
redress other Mens misfortunes upon the common considera-
tions of merciful natures, that it may be one day our own
case; for this is a sinister and politick kind of charity,
whereby we seem to bespeak the pities of men in the like
occasions. And truly I have observed that those professed
Eleemosynaries, though in a croud or multitude, do yet di-
rect and place their petitions on a few and selected persons :
there is surely a Physiognomy, which those experienced and
Master Mendicants observe, whereby they instantly discover
a merciful aspect, and will single out a face wherein they
spy the signatures and marks of IMercy. For there are
mystically in our faces certain Characters which carry in
them the motto of our Souls, wherein he that cannot read
A. B. C. may read our natures. I hold moreover that there
is a Phytognomy, or Physiognomy, not only of Men, but of
Plants and Vegetables: and in every one of them some out-
ward figures which hang as signs or bushes* of their inward
forms. The Finger of God hath left an Inscription upon all
His works, not graphical or composed of Letters, but of their
several forms, constitutions, parts, and operations, which,
aptly joyned together, do make one word that doth express
* Bushes were hung out as signs before tavern doors.
RELIGIO MEDICI 327
their natures. By these Letters God calls the Stars by their
names ; and by this Alphabet Adam assigned to every crea-
ture a name peculiar to its Nature. Now there are, besides
these Characters in our Faces, certain mystical figures in
our Hands, which I dare not call meer dashes, strokes a la
voice, or at random, because delineated by a Pencil that
never works in vain ; and hereof I take more particular no-
tice, because I carry that in mine own hand which I could
never read of nor discover in another. Aristotle, I confess,
in his acute and singular Book of Physiognomy, hath made
no mention of Chiromancy; yet I believe the Egyptians, who
were neerer addicted to those abstruse and mystical sciences,
had a knowledge therein, to which those vagabond and coun-
terfeit Egyptians^ did after pretend, and perhaps retained a
few corrupted principles, which sometimes might verifie their
prognosticks.
It is the common wonder of all men. how among so many
millions of faces, there should be none alike : now contrary,
I wonder as much how there should be any. He that shall
consider how many thousand several words have been care-
lessly and without study composed out of twenty-four Letters ;
withal, how many hundred lines there are to be drawn in the
Fabrick of one Man, shall easily find that this variety is
necessary ; and it will be very hard that they shall so concur
as to make one portract like another. Let a Painter care-
lesly limb out a million of Faces, and you shall find them
all different; yea, let him have his Copy before him, yet after
all his art there will remain a sensible distinction; for the
pattern or example of every thing is the perfectest in that
kind, whereof we still come short, though we transcend or go
beyond it, because herein it is wide, and agrees not in all
points unto the copy. Nor doth the similitude of Creatures
disparage the variety of Nature, nor any way confound the
Works of God. For even in things alike there is diversity;
and those that do seem to accord do manifestly disagree.
And thus is man like God; for in the same things that we
resemble Him, we are utterly different from Him. There
was never anything so like another as in all points to concur :
there will ever some reserved difference slip in, to prevent
* Gipsies.
328 THOMAS BROWNE
the identity; without which, two several things would not
be alike, but the same, which is impossible.
III. But to return from Philosophy to Charity: I hold not
so narrow a conceit of this virtue, as to conceive that to
give Alms is onely to be Charitable, or think a piece of
Liberality can comprehend the Total of Charity. Divinity
hath wisely divided the act thereof into many branches, and
hath taught us in this narrow way many paths unto good-
ness; as many ways as we may do good, so many ways we
may be charitable. There are infirmities not onely of Body,
but of Soul, and Fortunes, which do require the merciful
hand of our abilities. I cannot contemn a man for igno-
rance, but behold him with as much pity as I do Lazarus. It
is no greater Charity to cloath his body, than apparel the
nakedness of his Soul. It is an honourable object to see the
reasons of other men wear our Liveries, and their borrowed
understandings do homage to the bounty of ours: it is the
cheapest way of beneficence, and, like the natural charity
of the Sun, illuminates another without obscuring itself. To
be reserved and caitiff in this part of goodness, is the
sordidest piece of covetousness, and more contemptible than
pecuniary Avarice. To this (as calling my self a Scholar,)
I am obliged by the duty of my condition : I make not there-
fore my head a grave, but a treasure, of knowledge ; I intend
no Monopoly, but a community, in learning; I study not for
my own sake only, but for theirs that study not for them-
selves. I envy no man that knows more than my self, but
pity them that know less. I instruct no man as an exercise
of my knowledge, or with intent rather to nourish and keep
it alive in mine own head then beget and propagate it in his :
and in the midst of all my endeavours there is but one thought
that dejects me, that my acquired parts must perish with
my self, nor can be Legacied among my honoured Friends.
I cannot fall out or contemn a man for an errour, or con-
ceive why a difference in Opinion should divide an affec-
tion; for Controversies, Disputes, and Argumentations, both
in Philosophy and in Divinity, if they meet with discreet
and peaceable natures, do not infringe the Laws of Charity.
In all disputes, so much as there is of passion, so much there
is of nothing to the purpose; for then Reason, like a bad
RELIGIO MEDICI 329
Hound, spends upon a false Scent, and forsakes the question
first started. And this is one reason why Controversies are
never determined ; for, though they be amply proposed, they
are scarce at all handled, they do so swell with unnecessary
Digressions ; and the Parenthesis on the party is often as
large as the main discourse upon the subject. The Founda-
tions of Religion are already established, and the Principles
of Salvation subscribed unto by all : there remains not many
controversies worth a Passion ; and yet never any disputed
without, not only in Divinity, but inferiour Arts. What a
^aTpay^ojxooimyia and hot skirmish is betwixt S. and T. in
Lucian !' How do Grammarians hack and slash for the
Genitive case in Jupiter!^ How do they break their own
pates to salve that of Priscian !
Sf foret in terris, rideret Democritus.
[If he were on earth, Democritus would laugh.]
Yea, even amongst wiser militants, how many wounds have
been given, and credits slain, for the poor victory of an
opinion or beggerly conquest of a distinction ! Scholars are
men of Peace, they bear no Arms, but their tongues are
sharper than Actius his razor ;* their Pens carry farther, and
give a louder report than Thunder : I had rather stand the
shock of a Basilisco/" than the fury of a merciless Pen. It
is not meer Zeal to Learning, or Devotion to the Muses, that
wiser Princes Patron the Arts, and carry an indulgent aspect
unto Scholars ; but a desire to have their names eternized by
the memory of their writings, and a fear of the revengeful
Pen of succeeding ages; for these are the men, that, when
they have played their parts, and had their exits, must step
out and give the moral of their Scenes, and deliver unto
Posterity an Inventory of their Virtues and Vices. And
surely there goes a great deal of Conscience to the com-
piling of an History: there is no reproach" to the scandal
of a Story; it is such an authentick kind of falshood that
' Battle of the Frogs and Mice.
'' In Lucian's " Judicium Vocalium," where the letter S accuses T of
interference with the other consonants.
* Whether Jupiteris or Jovis. ^ Which cut through a whetstone.
^* A kind of cannon. ^^ Because it is believed.
330 THOMAS BROWNE
with authority beHes our good names to all Nations and
Posterity.
IV. There is another offence unto Charity, which no
Author hath ever written of, and few take notice of; and
that's the reproach, not of whole professions, mysteries, and
conditions, but of whole Nations, wherein by opprobrious
Epithets we miscall each other, and by an uncharitable
Logick, from a disposition in a few, conclude a habit in all.
Le mutiyi Anglois, et le bravache Escossois,
Et le fol Frangois,
Le poiiltron Romain, le larron de Gascongne,
L'Espagnol superbe, et I'Aleman yvroiigne.
[The stubborn Englishman, the swaggering Scot, the foolish
Frenchman, the coward Roman, the Gascon thief, the proud
Spaniard, and the drunken German.]
St. Paul, that calls the Cretians lyars^" doth it but indirectly,
and upon quotation of their own Poet." It is as bloody a
thought in one way, as Nero's^* was in another; for by a
word we wound a thousand, and at one blow assassine the
honour of a Nation. It is as compleat a piece of madness to
miscal and rave against the times, or think to recal men
to reason by a fit of passion. Democritus, that thought to
laugh the times into goodness, seems to me as deeply
Hypochondriack as Heraclitus, that bewailed them. It moves
not my spleen to behold the multitude in their proper hu-
mours, that is, in their fits of folly and madness ; as well
understanding that wisdom is not prophan'd unto the World,
and 'tis the priviledge of a few to be Vertuous. They that
endeavour to abolish Vice, destroy also Virtue ; for con-
traries, though they destroy one another, are yet the life
of one another. Thus Virtue (abolish vice,) is an Idea.
Again, the community" of sin doth not disparage goodness;
for when Vice gains upon the major part. Virtue, in whom
it remains, becomes more excellent : and being lost in some,
multiplies its goodness in others which remain untouched and
persist intire in the general inundation. I can therefore be-
hold Vice without a Satyr, content only with an admonition,
'" " Titus " i. 12. •'•'' Epimenides.
"* Perhaps a confusion with Caligula, who wished that the whole Roman
people had one neck. ^^ Prevalence.
RELIGIO MEDICI 331
or instructive reprehension ; for Noble Natures, and such
as are capable of goodness, are railed into vice, that might
as easily be admonished into virtue ; and we should be all so
far the Orators of goodness, as to protect her from the
power of Vice, and maintain the cause of injured truth. No
man can justly censure or condemn another, because indeed
no man truly knows another. This I perceive in my self;
for I am in the dark to all the world, and my nearest friends
beheld me but in a cloud. Those that know me but super-
ficially, think less of me than I do of my self; those of my
neer acquaintance think more; God, Who truly knows me,
knows that I am nothing ; for He only beholds me and all the
world, Who looks not on us through a derived ray, or a
trajection^' of a sensible species, but beholds the substance
without the helps of accidents, and the forms of things as
we their operations. Further, no man can judge another,
because no man knows himself : for we censure others but
as they disagree from that humour which we fancy laudable
in our selves, and commend others but for that wherein
they seem to quadrate" and consent with us. So that, in
conclusion, all is but that we all condemn, Self-love. 'Tis
the general complaint of these times, and perhaps of those
past, that charity grows cold ; which I perceive most verified
in those which most do manifest the fires and flames of zeal ;
for it is a virtue that best agrees with coldest natures, and
such as are complexioned for humility. But how shall we
expect Charity towards others, when we are uncharitable to
our selves? Charity begins at home, is the voice of the
World ; yet is every man his greatest enemy, and, as it were,
his own Executioner. Non occides, [Thou shalt not kill] is
the Commandment of God, yet scarce observed by any man ;
for I perceive every man is his own Atropos^ and lends a
hand to cut the thred of his own days. Cain was not there-
fore the first Murtherer, but Adam, who brought in death;
whereof he beheld the practice and example in his own son
Abel, and saw that verified in the experience of another,
which faith could not perswade him in the Theory of
himself.
V. There is, I think, no man that apprehends his own
*• Emission. ^~ Square. '* The Fate who cuts the thread of life.
332 THOMAS BROWNE
miseries less than my self, and no man that so needy ap-
prehends anothers. I could lose an arm without a tear, and
with few groans, methinks ; be quartered into pieces ; yet can
I weep most seriously at a Play, and receive with true pas-
sion the counterfeit grief of those known and professed Im-
postures. It is a barbarous part of inhumanity to add unto
any afflicted parties misery, or indeavour to multiply in any
man a passion whose single nature is already above his
patience. This was the greatest affliction of Job, and those
oblique expostulations of his Friends a deeper injury than
the down-right blows of the Devil. It is not the tears of our
own eyes only, but of our friends also, that do exhaust the
current of our sorrows ; which, falling into many streams,
runs more peaceably, and is contented with a narrower chan-
nel. It is an act within the power of charity, to translate a
passion out of one breast into another, and to divide a sorrow
almost out of it self; for an affliction, like a dimension, may
be so divided, as, if not indivisible, at least to become in-
sensible. Now with my friend I desire not to share or par-
ticipate, but to engross, his sorrows; that, by making them
mine own, I may more easily discuss them; for in mine own
reason, and within my self, I can command that which I can-
not intreat without my self, and within the circle of another.
I have often thought those noble pairs and examples of
friendship not so truly Histories of what had been, as fictions
of what should be ; but I now perceive nothing in them but
possibilities, nor anything in the Heroick examples of Damon
and Pythias, Achilles and Patroclus, which methinks upon
some grounds I could not perform within the narrow com-
pass of my self. That a man should lay down his life for
his Friend, seems strange to vulgar affections, and such as
confine themselves within that Worldly principle, Charity
begins at home. For mine own part I could never remember
the relations that I held unto my self, nor the respect that I
owe unto my own nature, in the cause of God, my Country,
and my Friends. Next to these three, I do embrace my
self. I confess I do not observe that order that the Schools
ordain our affections, to love our Parents, Wives, Children,
and then our Friends ; for, excepting the injunctions of Relig-
ion, I do not find in my self such a necessary and indis-
RELIGIO MEDICI 333
soluble Sympathy to all those of my blood. I hope I do not
break the fifth Commandment, if I conceive I may love my
friend before the nearest of my blood, even those to whom I
owe the principles of life. I never yet cast a true affection
on a woman; but I have loved my friend as I do virtue, my
soul, my God. From hence me thinks I do conceive how
God loves man, what happiness there is in the love of God.
Omitting all other, there are three most mystical unions :
I. two natures in one person; 2. three persons in one nature;
3. one soul in two bodies ; for though indeed they be really
divided, yet are they so united, as they seem but one, and
make rather a duality than two distinct souls.
VI. There are wonders in true affection : it is a body of
Enigma's, mysteries, and riddles ; wherein two so become
one, as they both become two. I love my friend before my
self, and yet methinks I do not love him enough : some few
months hence my multiplied affection will make me believe
I have not loved him at all. When I am from him, I am
dead till I be with him; when I am with him, I am not
satisfied, but would still be nearer him. United souls are not
satisfied with imbraces, but desire to be truly each other ;
which being impossible, their desires are infinite, and must
proceed without a possibility of satisfaction. Another
misery there is in affection, that whom we truly love like
our own selves, we forget their looks, nor can our memory
retain the Idea of their faces ; and it is no wonder, for they
are our selves, and our affection makes their looks our own.
This noble affection falls not on vulgar and common consti-
tutions, but on such as are mark'd for virtue: he that can
love his friend with this noble ardour, will in a competent
degree affect all. Now, if we can bring our affections to look
beyond the body, and cast an eye upon the soul, we have
found out the true object, not only of friendship, but Charity;
and the greatest happiness that we can bequeath the soul, is
that wherein we all do place our last felicity. Salvation ; which
though it be not in our power to bestow, it is in our charity
and pious invocations to desire, if not procure and further.
I cannot contentedly frame a prayer for my self in particular,
without a catalogue for my friends ; nor request a happiness,
wherein my sociable disposition doth not desire the fellow-
334 THOMAS BROWNE
ship of my neighbour. I never hear the Toll of a passing
Bell, though in my mirth, with out my prayers and best
wishes for the departing spirit ; I cannot go to cure the body
of my patient, but I forget my profession, and call unto God
for his soul ; I cannot see one say his prayers, but, in stead
of imitating him, I fall into a supplication for him, who per-
haps is no more to me than a common nature: and if God
hath vouchsafed an ear to my supplications, there are surely
many happy that never saw me, and enjoy the blessing of
mine unknown devotions. To pray for Enemies, that is, for
their salvation, is no harsh precept, but the practice of our
daily and ordinary devotions, I cannot believe the story of
the Italian :'* our bad wishes and uncharitable desires pro-
ceed no further than this life; it is the Devil, and the un-
charitable votes of Hell, that desire our misery in the world
to come.
VII. To do no injury, nor take none, was a principle,
which to my former years and impatient affections seemed
to contain enough of Morality ; but my more setled years
and Christian constitution have fallen upon severer resolu-
tions. I can hold there is no such thing as injury: that, if
there be, there is no such injury as revenge, and no such
revenge as the contempt of an injury; that to hate another,
is to malign himself; that the truest way to love another, is
to despise our selves. I were unjust unto mine own Con-
science, if I should say I am at variance with any thing like
my self. I find there are many pieces in this one fabrick of
man ; this frame is raised upon a mass of Antipathies. I am
one methinks, but as the World; wherein notwithstanding
there are a swarm of distinct essences, and in them another
World of contrarieties; we carry private and domestic ene-
mies within, publick and more hostile adversaries with-
out. The Devil, that did but buffet St. Paul, plays methinks
at sharp^ with me. Let me be nothing, if within the com-
pass of my self I do not find the battail of Lepanto,^ Passion
against Reason, Reason against Faith, Faith against the
Devil, and my Conscience against all. There is another man
within me, that's angry with me, rebukes, commands, and
" Who killed his enemy after inducing him to blaspheme, that he might
go to hell. ™ Fights in earnest. -■■ " Used for a deadly contest."
RELIGIO MEDICI 335
dastards me. I have no Conscience of Marble to resist the
hammer of more heavy offences; nor yet so soft and waxen,
as to take the impression of each single peccadillo or scape
of infirmity. I am of a strange belief, that it is as easie to be
forgiven some sins, as to commit some others. For my
Original sin, I hold it to be washed away in my Baptism : for
my actual transgressions, I compute and reckon with God
but from my last repentance. Sacrament, or general absolu-
tion ; and therefore am not terrified with the sins or madness
of my youth. I thank the goodness of God, I have no sins
that want a name ; I am not singular in offences ; my trans-
gressions are Epidemical, and from the common breath of
our corruption. For there are certain tempers of body,
which, matcht with an humorous depravity of mind, do hatch
and produce vitiosities, whose newness and monstrosity of
nature admits no name : this was the temper of that Lecher
that fell in love with a Statua, and the constitution of Nero
in his Spintrian^ recreations. For the Heavens are not only
fruitful in new and unheard-of stars, the Earth in plants
and animals, but mens minds also in villany and vices. Now
the dulness of my reason, and the vulgarity^ of my disposi-
tion, never prompted my invention, nor solicited my affection
unto any of these; yet even those common and quotidian
infirmities that so necessarily attend me, and do seem to be
my very nature, have so dejected me, so broken the estima-
tion that I should have otherwise of my self, that I repute
my self the most abjectest piece of mortality. Divines pre*
scribe a fit of sorrow to repentance : there goes indignation,
anger, sorrow, hatred, into mine ; passions of a contrary
nature, which neither seem to sute with this action, nor my
proper constitution. It is no breach of charity to our selves,
to be at variance with our Vices, nor to abhor that part of
us which is an enemy to the ground of charity, our God;
wherein we do but imitate our great selves, the world, whose
divided Antipathies and contrary faces do yet carry a chari-
table regard unto the whole, by their particular discords
preserving the common harmony, and keeping in fetters
those powers, whose rebellions, once Masters, might be the
ruine of all.
'' Obscene. ** Coramonplaccness.
336 THOMAS BROWNE
VIII. I thank God, amongst those milHons of Vices I do
inherit and hold from Adam, I have escaped one, and that
a mortal enemy to Charity, the first and father-sin, not onely
of man, but of the devil. Pride: a vice whose name is com-
prehended in a Monosyllable, but in its nature not circum-
scribed with a World. I have escaped it in a condition that
can hardly avoid it. Those petty acquisitions and reputed
perfections that advance and elevate the conceits of other
men, add no feathers unto mine. I have seen a Grammarian
towr and plume himself over a single line in Horace, and
shew more pride in the construction of one Ode, than the
Author in the composure of the whole book. For my own part,
besides the Jargon and Patois of several Provinces, I under-
stand no less than six Languages ; yet I protest I have no
higher conceit of my self, than had our Fathers before the
confusion of Babel, when there was but one Language in the
World, and none to boast himself either Linguist or Critick.
I have not onely seen several Countries, beheld the nature
of their Climes, the Chorography^ of their Provinces, Topog-
raphy of their Cities, but understood their several Laws,
Customs, and Policies ; yet cannot all this perswade the dul-
ness of my spirit unto such an opinion of my self, as I
behold in nimbler and conceited heads, that never looked a
degree beyond their Nests. I know the names, and somewhat
more, of all the constellations in my Horizon ; yet I have
seen a prating Mariner, that could onely name the pointers
and the North Star, out-talk me, and conceit himself a whole
Sphere above me. I know most of the Plants of my Coun-
trey, and of those about me ; yet methinks I do not know so
many as when I did but know a hundred, and had scarcely
ever Simpled^ further than Cheap-side.'^ For, indeed, heads
of capacity, and such as are not full with a handful or easie
measure of knowledge, think they know nothing till they
know all ; which being impossible, they fall upon the opinion
of Socrates, and only know they know not anything. I can-
not think that Homer pin'd away upon the riddle of the
fishermen ; or that Aristotle, who understood the uncertainty
of knowledge, and confessed so often the reason of man
too weak for the works of nature, did ever drown himself
** Description. ^^ Botanized. -* A great herb market in the 17th century.
RELIGIO MEDICI 337
upon the flux and reflux of Euripus. We do but learn to-day
what our better advanced judgements will unteach to mor-
row; and Aristotle doth but instruct us, as Plato did him;
that is, to confute himself. I have run through all sorts, yet
find no rest in any : though our first studies and junior en-
deavours may style us Peripateticks, Stoicks, or Academicks ;
yet I perceive the wisest heads prove, at last, almost all
Scepticks, and stand like Janus*^ in the field of knowledge. I
have therefore one common and authentick Philosophy I
learned in the Schools, whereby I discourse and satisfy the
reason of other men ; another more reserved, and drawn from
experience, whereby I content mine own. Solomon, that
complained of ignorance in the height of knowledge, hath
not only humbled my conceits, but discouraged my endeav-
ours. There is yet another conceit^ that hath sometimes
made me shut my books, which tells me it is a vanity to waste
our days in the blind pursuit of knowledge ; it is but attend-
ing a little longer, and we shall enjoy that by instinct and
infusion, which we endeavour at here by labour and inquisi-
tion. It is better to sit down in a modest ignorance, and rest
contented with the natural blessing of our own reasons, than
buy the uncertain knowledge of this life with sweat and
vexation, which Death gives every fool gratis, and is an
accessary of our glorification.
IX. I was never yet once, and commend their resolutions
who never marry twice : not that I disallow of second mar-
riage ; as neither, in all cases, of Polygamy, which, consid-
ering some times, and the unequal number of both sexes, may
be also necessary. The whole World was made for man, but
the twelfth part of man for woman : Man is the whole World,
and the Breath of God; Woman the Rib and crooked piece of
man. I could be content that we might procreate like trees,
without conjunction, or that there were any way to per-
petuate the World without this trivial and vulgar way of
union : it is the foolishest act a wise man commits in all his
life; nor is there any thing that will more deject his cool'd
imagination, when he shall consider what an odd and un-
worthy piece of folly he hath committed. I speak not in
" A Roman deity whose statues had two faces looking in opposite
directions. ^ Idea.
338 THOMAS BROWNE
prejudice, nor am averse from that sweet Sex, but naturally
amorous of all that is beautiful. I can look a whole day with
delight upon a handsome Picture, though it be but of an
Horse. It is my temper, and I like it the better, to affect all
harmony; and sure there is musick even in the beauty, and
the silent note 'whicli Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the
sound of an instrument. For there is a musick where ever
there is a harmony, order, or proportion : and thus far we
may maintain the music of the Sphears ; for those v.^ell-
ordered motions, and regular paces, though they give no
sound unto the ear, . yet to the understanding they strike
a note most full of harmony. Whatsoever is harmonically
composed delights in harmony ; which makes me much dis-
trust the symmetry of those heads which declaim against
all Church-Musick. For my self, not only for my obedience,
but my particular Genius, I do embrace it: for even that
vulgar and Tavern-Musick, which makes one man merry,
another mad, strikes in me a deep fit of devotion, and a
profound contemplation of the First Composer. There is
something in it of Divinity more than the ear discovers: it
is an Hieroglyphical and shadowed lesson of the whole
World, and creatures of God; such a melody to the ear, as
the whole World, well understood, would afford the under-
standing. In brief, it is a sensible fit of that harmony which
intellectually sounds in the ears of God. I will not say, with
Plato, the soul is an harmony, but harmonical, and hath its
nearest sympathy unto INIusick: thus some, whose temper of
body agrees, and humours the constitution of their souls,
are born Poets, though indeed all are naturally inclined unto
Rhythme. This made Tacitus, in the very first line of his
Story, fall upon a verse ; and Cicero, the worst of Poets, but
declaiming for a Poet, falls in the very first sentence upon a
perfect Hexameter. I feel not in me those sordid and un-
christian desires of my profession ; I do i:ot secretly implore
and wish for Plagues, rejoyce at Famines, revolve Epheme-
rides® and Almanacks in expectation of malignant Aspects,'*
fatal Conjunctions,^" and Eclipses.^" I rejoyce not at un-
wholesome Springs, nor unseasonable Winters: my Prayer
^ Tables sliowinjs: the daily state of the heavens.
^ Astronomical conditions supposed to presage disaster.
RELIGIO MEDICI 339
goes with the Husbandman's; I desire every thing in its
proper season, that neither men nor the times be put out of
temper. Let me be sick my self if sometimes the malady of
my patient be not a disease unto me. I desire rather to
cure his infirmities than my own necessities. Where I do
him no good, methinks it is scarce honest gain ; though I
confess, 'tis but the worthy salary of our well-intended en-
deavours. I am not only ashamed, but heartily sorry, that,
besides death, there are diseases incurable : yet not for my
own sake, or that they be beyond my Art, but for the gen-
eral cause and sake of humanity, whose common cause I ap-
prehend as mine own. And to speak more generally, those
three Noble Professions which all civil Commonwealths do
honour, are raised upon the fall of Adam, and are not any
way exempt from their infirmities ; there are not only dis-
eases incurable in Physick, but cases indissolvable in Laws,
Vices incorrigible in Divinity. If General Councils may err,
I do not see why particular Courts should be infallible ; their
perfectest rules are raised upon the erroneous reasons of
Man, and the Laws of one do but condemn the rules of an-
other; as Aristotle oft-times the opinions of his Prede-
cessours, because, though agreeable to reason, yet were not
consonant to his own rules, and the Logick of his proper
Principles. Again, (to speak nothing of the Sin against the
Holy Ghost, whose cure not onely but whose nature is un-
known,) I can cure the Gout or Stone in some, sooner than
Divinity. Pride or Avarice in others. I can cure Vices by
Physick when they remain incurable by Divinity, and shall
obey my Pills when they contemn their precepts. I boast
nothing, but plainly say, we all labour against our own cure ;
for death is the cure of all diseases. There is no Catholicon
or universal remedy I know, but this ; which, though nauseous
to queasie stomachs, yet to prepared appetites is Nectar, and
a pleasant potion of immortality.
X. For my Conversation,^* it is like the Sun's, with all men.
and with a friendly aspect to good and bad. Methinks there
is no man bad, and the worst, best ; that is, while they are
kept within the circle of those qualities wherein they are
good: there is no man's mind of such discordant and jarring
'1 Intercourse.
340 THOMAS BROWNE
a temper, to which a tunable disposition may not strike a
harmony. Magncs virtutes, nee minora vitia [Great virtues,
nor less vices] ; it is the posie of the best natures, and may be
inverted on the worst ; there are in the most depraved and
venemous dispositions, certain pieces that remain untoucht,
which by an Antiperistasis'^" become more excellent, or by the
excellency of their antipathies are able to preserve them-
selves from the contagion of their enemy vices, and persist
intire beyond the general corruption. For it is also thus in
nature : the greatest Balsomes do lie enveloped in the bodies
of most powerful Corrosives."^ I say, moreover, and I ground
upon experience, that poisons contain within themselves their
own Antidote, and that which preserves them from the
venome of themselves, without which they were not dele-
terious to others onely, but to themselves also. But it is the
corruption that I fear within me, not the contagion of com-
merce^* without me. 'Tis that unruly regiment*^ within me,
that will destroy me; 'tis I that do infect my self; the man
without a NaveP yet lives in me ; I feel that original canker
corrode and devour me; and therefore Defenda me Dios
de me, " Lord deliver me from my self," is a part of my
Letany, and the first voice of my retired imaginations. There
is no man alone, because every man is a Microcosm, and car-
ries the whole World about him. Nunquam minus solus quam
cum solus [Never less alone than when alone], though it be
the Apothegme of a wise man, is yet true in the mouth of a
fool. Indeed, though in a Wilderness, a man is never alone,
not only because he is with himself and his own thoughts,
but because he is with the Devil, who ever consorts with
our solitude, and is that unruly rebel that musters up those
disordered motions which accompany our sequestred imagina-
tions. And to speak more narrowly, there is no such thing
as solitude, nor any thing that can be said to be alone and
by itself, but God, Who is His own circle, and can subsist by
Himself; all others, besides their dissirailary and Hetero-
geneous parts, which in a manner multiply their natures, can-
not subsist without the concourse"'' of God, and the society of
that hand which doth uphold their natures. In brief, there
^- Heightening by contrn^t. '" Poison?. "* Intercourse.
•'''• Company of evil impulses. ^^ Adam, as not being born ai woman.
^ Cooperation.
RELIGIO MEDICI 341
can be nothing truly alone and by it self, which is not truly
one ; and such is only God : all others do transcend an unity,
and so by consequence are many.
XI. Now for my life, it is a miracle of thirty years, which
to relate, were not a History, but a piece of Poetry, and
would sound to common ears like a Fable. For the World,
I count it not an Inn, but an Hospital; and a place not to
live, but to dye in. The world that I regard is my self; it is
the Microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on;
for the other, I use it but like my Globe, and turn it round
sometimes for my recreation. Men that look upon my out-
side, perusing only my condition and Fortunes, do err in my
Altitude ; for I am above Atlas his shoulders. The earth is a
point not only in respect of the Heavens above us, but of
that heavenly and celestial part within us : that mass of
"Flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind: that sur-
face that tells the Heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade
me I have any : I take my circle to be above three hundred
and sixty ; though the number of the Ark^ do measure my
body, it comprehendeth not my mind : whilst I study to find
how I am a Microcosm, or little World, I find my self some-
thing more than the great. There is surely a piece of Di-
vinity in us, something that was before the Elements, and
owes no homage unto the Sun. Nature tells me I am the
Image of God, as well as Scripture : he that understands not
thus much, hath not his introduction or first lesson, and is
yet to begin the Alphabet of man. Let me not injure the
felicity of others, if I say I am as happy as any : Ruat cesium,
■Rat voluntas Tua [Let Thy will be done, though the heavens
fall], salveth all; so that whatsoever happens, it is but what
our daily prayers desire. In brief, I am content; and what
should Providence add more? Surely this is it we call
Happiness, and this do I enjoy; with this I am happy in a
dream, and as content to enjoy a happiness in a fancy, as
others in a more apparent truth and realty. There is surely
a neerer apprehension of any thing that delights us in our
dreams, than in our waked senses: without this I were un-
happy; for my awaked judgment discontents me, ever whis-
pering unto me, that I am from my friend; but my friendly
„^ „ * Here, circumference of a circle.
HC U\ 22
342 THOMAS BROWNE
dreams in the night requite me, and make me think I am
within his arms. I thank God for my happy dreams, as I do
for my good rest; for there is a satisfaction in them unto
reasonable desires, and such as can be content with a fit of
happiness : and surely it is not a melancholy conceit to think
we are all asleep in this World, and that the conceits of this
life are as meer dreams to those of the next; as the Phan-
tasms of the night, to the conceits of the day. There is an
equal delusion in both, and the one doth but seem to be the
enibleme or picture of the other : we are somewhat more than
our selves in our sleeps, and the slumber of the body seems
to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation*" of
sense, but the liberty of reason ; and our waking conceptions
do not match the Fancies of our sleeps. At my Nativity my
Ascendant was the watery sign of Scorpius : I was born in the
Planetary hour of Saturn, and I think I have a piece of that
Leaden Planet in me. I am no way facetious, nor disposed
for the mirth and galliardize*" of company ; yet in one dream
I can compose a whole Comedy, behold the action, appre-
hend the jests, and laugh my self awake at the conceits
thereof. Were my memory as faithful as my reason is then
fruitful, I would never study but in my dreams ; and this
time also would I chuse for my devotions : but our grosser
memories have then so little hold of our abstracted under-
standings, that they forget the story, and can only relate to
our awaked souls, a confused and broken tale of that that
hath passed. Aristotle, who hath written a singular Tract
Of Sleep, hath not, methinks, throughly defined it; nor yet
Galen, though he seem to have corrected it; for those
Noctambuloes and night-walkers, though in their sleep, do
yet injoy the action of their senses. We must therefore say
that there is something in us that is not in the jurisdiction
of Morpheus ; and that those abstracted and ecstatick souls
do walk about in their own corps, as spirits with the bodies
they assume, wherein they seem to hear, see, and feel, though
indeed the Organs are destitute of sense, and their natures
of those faculties that should inform them. Thus it is ob-
served, that men sometimes, upon the hour of their depar-
ture, do speak and reason above themselves; for then the
** Binding. ♦" Merriment.
RELIGIO MEDICI 343
soul, beginning to be freed from the ligaments of the body,
begins to reason like her self, and to discourse in a strain
above mortality.
XII. We term sleep a death ; and yet it is waking that
kills us, and destroys those spirits that are the house of life.
'Tis indeed a part of life that best expresseth death; for
every man truely lives, so long as he acts his nature, or some
way makes good the faculties of himself. Themistocles,
therefore, that slew his Soldier in his sleep, was a merciful
Executioner : 'tis a kind of punishment the mildness of no
laws hath invented : I wonder the fancy of Lucan and Seneca
did not discover it. It is that death by which we may
be literally said to dye daily ; a death which Adam dyed
before his mortality ; a death whereby we live a middle
and moderating point between life and death : in fine,
so like death, I dare not trust it without my -prayers, and
an half adieu unto the World, and take my farwel in a
Colloquy with God.
The night is come, like to the day,
Depart not Thou, great God, away.
Let not my sins, black as the night,
Eclipse the lustre of Thy light :
Keep still in my Horizon ; for to me
The Sun makes not the day, but Thee.
Thou, Whose nature cannot sleep,
On my temples Gentry keep ;
Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes.
Whose eyes are open while mine close.
Let no dreams my head infest,
But such as Jacob's temples blest.
While I do rest, my Soul advance ;
Make my sleep a holy trance ;
That I may, my rest being wrought.
Awake into some holy thought ;
And with as active vigour run
My course, as doth the nimble Sun.
Sleep is a death ; O make me try.
By sleeping, what it is to die ;
And as gently lay my head
On my grave, as now my bed.
However I rest, great God, let me
Awake again at last with Thee;
And thus assur'd, behold I He
Securely, or to awake or die.
344 THOMAS BROWNE
These are my drowsie days ; in vain
I do not wake to sleep again :
O come that hour, when I shall never
Sleep again, but wake for ever.
This is the Dormative*^ I take to bedward ; I need no other
Laudanum than this to make me sleep ; after which I close
mine eyes in security, content to take my leave of the Sun,
and sleep unto the Resurrection.
XIII. The method I should use in distributive Justice,"
I often observe in commutative ;*^ and keep a Geometrical
proportion in both, whereby becoming equable to others, I
become unjust to my self, and supererogate" in that common
principle. Do unto others as thou wouldst he done unto thy
self. I was not born unto riches, neither is it. I think, my
Star to be wealthy; or, if it were, the freedom of my mind,
and frankness of my disposition, were able to contradict and
cross my fates : for to me, avarice seems not so much a vice,
as a deplorable piece of madness ; to conceive ourselves pip-
kins, or be perswaded that we are dead, is not so ridiculous,
nor so many degrees beyond the power of Hellebore,^" as this.
The opinions of Theory, and positions of men, are not so
void of reason as their practised conclusions. Some have
held that Snow is black, that the earth moves, that the Soul
is air, fire, water ; but all this is Philosophy, and there is
no delirium, if we do but speculate** the folly and indis-
putable dotage of avarice. To that subterraneous Idol and
God of the Earth I do confess I am an Atheist; I cannot
perswade myself to honour that the World adores; whatso-
ever virtue its prepared substance"' may have within my body,
it hath no influence nor operation without. I would not
entertain a base design, or an action that should call me
villain, for the Indies ; and for this only do I love and honour
my own soul, and have methinks two arms too few to em-
brace myself. Aristotle is too severe, that will not allow us
to be truely liberal without wealth, and the bountiful hand
*''■ Sleeping draft.
*2 Distribution of rewards and punishments according to the desert of each.
^* The justice which is corrective in transactions between man and man,
exercised in arithmetical proportion. The distinction is made by Aristotle.
** Do more than is necessary. ■'■'^ Used as a remedy for madness.
** Consider. *'' Gold was commonly used as a medicine.
RELIGIO MEDICI 345
of Fortune. If this be true, I must confess I am charitable
only in my liberal intentions, and bountiful well-wishes; but
if the example of the Mite be not only an act of wonder,
but an example of the noblest Charity, surely poor men may
also build Hospitals, and the rich alone have not erected
Cathedrals. I have a private method which others observe
not ; I take the opportunity of my self to do good ; I borrow
occasion of Charity from mine own necessities, and supply
the wants of others, when I am in most need my self: for
it is an honest stratagem to take advantage of our selves,
and so to husband the acts of vertue, that, where they are
defective in one circumstance, they may repay their want
and multiply their goodness in another. I have not Peru*^ in
my desires, but a competence, and ability to perform those
good works to which He hath inclined my nature. He is
rich, who hath enough to be charitable; and it is hard to be
so poor, that a noble mind may not find a way to this piece
of goodness. He that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord :
there is more Rhetorick in that one sentence, than in a
Library of Sermons ; and indeed, if those Sentences were
understood by the Reader, with the same Emphasis as they
are delivered by the Author, we needed not those Volumes
of instructions, but might be honest by an Epitome. Upon
this motive only I cannot behold a Beggar without relieving
his Necessities with my Purse, or his Soul with my Prayers ;
these scenical and accidental differences between us, can-
not make me forget that common and untoucht part of us
both : there is under these Centoes*^ and miserable outsides,
these mutilate and semi-bodies, a soul of the same alloy with
our own, whose Genealogy is God as well as ours, and in as
fair a way to Salvation as our selves. Statists that labour
to contrive a Common-wealth without poverty, take away the
object of charity, not understanding only the Common-
wealth of a Christian, but forgetting the prophecie of
Christ.'"
XIV. Now. there is another part of charity, which is the
Basis and Pillar of this, and that is the love of God, for
Whom we love our neighbour; for this I think charity, to
** A symbol of vast wealth. ■** Masses of patches.
^ " The poor ye have always with ye."
346 THOMAS BROWNE
love God for Himself, and our neighbour for God. All that
is truly amiable is God, or as it were a divided piece of Him,
that retains a reflex or shadow of Himself. Nor is it strange
that we should place affection on that which is invisible : all
that we truly love is thus ; what we adore under affection of
our senses, deserves not the honour of so pure a title. Thus
we adore Virtue, though to the eyes of sense she be in-
visible : thus that part of our noble friends that we love, is
not that part that we imbrace, but that insensible part that
our arms cannot embrace. God, being all goodness, can love
nothing but Himself; He loves us but for that part which is
as it were Himself, and the traduction^^ of His Holy Spirit.
Let us call to assize the loves of our parents, the affection
of our wives and children, and they are all dumb shows and
dreams, without reality, truth, or constancy. For first there
is a strong bond of affection between us and our Parents;
yet how easily dissolved ! We betake our selves to a woman,
forget our mother in a wife, and the womb that bare us, in
that that shall bear our Image. This woman blessing us with
children, our aft'ection leaves the level it held before, and
sinks from our bed unto our issue and picture of Posterity,
where aft'ection holds no steady mansion. They, growing
up in years, desire our ends; or applying themselves to a
woman, take a lawful way to love another better than our
selves. Thus I perceive a man may be buried alive, and be-
hold his grave in his own issue.
XV. I conclude therefore, and say, there is no happiness
under (or, as Copernicus will have it, above) the Sun, nor
any Crambe^' in that repeated verity and burthen of all the
wisdom of Solomon, All is vanity and vexation of Spirit.
There is no felicity in that the World adores. Aristotle,
whilst he labours to refute the Idea's of Plato, falls upon
one himself; for his sumvium honum is a Chimaera, and there
is no such thing as his Felicity. That wherein God Himself
is happy, the holy Angels are happy, in whose defect the
Devils are unhappy, that dare I call happiness: whatsoever
conduceth unto this, may with an easy Metaphor deserve that
name ; whatsoever else the World terms Happiness, is to me
a story out of Pliny, a tale of Boccace or ^^lalizspini, an
^^ Derivative. '- " Tiresome repetition."
RELIGIO MEDICI 347
apparition, or neat delusion, wherein there is no more of
Happiness than the name. Bless me in this life with but
peace of my Conscience, command of my affections, the love of
Thy self and my dearest friends, and I shall be happy enough
to pity Caesar. These are, O Lord, the humble desires of my
most reasonable ambition, and all I dare call happiness on
earth ; wherein I set no rule or limit to Thy Hand or Provi-
dence. Dispose of me according to the wisdom of Thy pleas-
ure : Thy will be done, though in my own undoing.
FINIS
THE PUBLISHERS OF THE HAR-
VARD CLASSICS • DR. ELIOT'S
FIVE-FOOT SHELF OF BOOKS • ARE
PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THE
PUBLICATION OF
THE JUNIOR CLASSICS
A LIBRARY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS
The Junior Classics constitute a set
of books whose contents will delight
children and at the same time
satisfy the legitimate ethical require-
ments of those who have the children's
best interests at heart."
CHARLES W. ELIOT
THE COLLIER PRESS • NEW YORK
P • F • COLLIER bf SON
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