^H #3 tf£si& s«: BE :'flw '/A&JtSmt \+J ' ^ „ c THE WILLIAM R. PERKINS LIBRARY OF DUKE UNIVERSITY Rare Books Clarenhn $ms $mn BACON ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING WRIGHT a HENRY FROWDE, M.A. PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD LONDON, EDINBURGH, NEW YORK TORONTO AND MELBOURNE £far*nfcon (preee Settee BACON The Advancement of Learning EDITED BY WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A. HON. D.C.L. AND LL.D. FELLOW AND VICE-MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE Fifth Edition AT THE CLARENDON PRESS M DCCCC OXFORD PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART. M.A. TRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY PREFACE. Francis Bacox was born on the 22nd of January, 1560-1, at York House in the Strand, the residence of his father Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. Sixty years later, Ben Jonson sang of him as ' England's high Chancellor ; the destined heir, In his soft cradle, to his father's chair.' His mother, Anne Cooke, whose eldest sister was married to Lord Burleigh, was his father's second wife, and had borne him two children. Anthony, the friend and correspondent of Essex, was two years older than Francis. Of their childhood nothing is known. In April, 1573, when Francis was little more than twelve years old, the two brothers were entered as fellow-commoners at Trinity College, Cambridge, and ma- triculated between the 10th and 13th of June in the same year. They were placed under the care of Dr. Whitgift, Master of the College, who found this distinguished position not inconsistent with holding the Deanery of Lincoln, a Canonry at Ely, and the Rectory of Teversham ; having, however, previously resigned the Regius Professorship of Divinity. From an account-book which he kept, and which was published by the late Dr. Mait- land in the British Magazine (vols, xxxii. xxxiii), we glean the meagre facts of Francis Bacon's University career. We learn, for instance, that during the period of his residence in College, from April 5, 1573, to Christmas 1575, the Master's parental care supplied him with so many pairs of shoes, a bow and quiver of arrows, that there was oil bought for his neck, and certain money paid to the ' potigarie ' when he was sick, and for meat probably as he was recovering, that he had a V\ PREFACE. desk put up in his study, that his stockings were dyed at a cost of 12//., that his laundress's bill from Midsummer to Michaelmas was 3 shillings, that his hose were mended, his windows glazed, two dozen silk points, a pair of pantofles and pumps bought for him, and a dozen new buttons set on his doublet. Some books the brothers brought with them from London. With others they were furnished by the Master, as Livy, Cicero, Demosthenes' Olynthiacs, Homer's Iliad, Caesar, Aristotle, Plato, Xenophon, Sallust, and Hermogenes. There is an interval in the accounts from the latter part of August, 1574, to the 21st of March following; during which time the plague raged in Cambridge, and the members of the Uni- versity were dispersed. The only record of Bacon's residence at Trinity is a reminiscence of his own preserved in the Sylva Sylvarum (cent. ii. 151), which shows that at this early period he had begun to observe natural phenomena. * I remember,' he says, ' in Trinity College in Cambridge, there was an upper chamber, which being thought weak in the roof of it, was supported by a pillar of iron, of the bigness of one's arm, in the midst of the chamber ; which if you had struck, it would make a little flat noise in the room where it was struck, but it would make a great bomb in the chamber beneath.' We may possibly have here a description of the rooms occupied by the two brothers, but if so they must have been in the buildings of King's Hall, removed by Dr. Nevill in constructing the pre- sent Old Court. No tradition of their whereabouts remains. If we add to these fragments an anecdote related by Dr. Raw- ley, his chaplain and earliest biographer, we are in possession of all that is known of Francis Bacon up to the time that he completed his fifteenth year. Rawley's story introduces us to a child of singular gravity and adroitness, the future Chan- cellor and courtier. The Queen 'delighted much then to confer with him, and to prove him with questions; unto whom he delivered himself with that gravity and maturity above his years, that Her Majesty would often term him " The young Lord Keeper." Being asked by the Queen how old he was, he answered with much discretion, being then PREFACE. vil but a boy, " That he was two years younger than Her Ma- jesty's happy reign ;" with which answer the Queen was much taken.' Another anecdote from the same source, of which more than enough has been made, belongs to this period. ' Whilst he was commorant in the University, about sixteen years of age (as his lordship hath been pleased to impart unto myself), he first fell into the dislike of the philosophy of Aristotle ; not for the worthlessness of the author, to whom he would ever ascribe all high attributes, but for the unfruit- fulness of the way; being a philosophy (as his lordship used to say) only strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefit of the life of man ; in which mind he continued to his dying day.' The story which has been told above of the iron pillar in the chamber at Trinity shows that Bacon's attention had been very early directed to the observation of sounds, and lends a probability to the supposition that it may have been at this time that he tried the experiment recorded in the Sylva Sylvarum (cent. ii. 140). 'There is in St. James's Fields a conduit of brick, unto which joineth a low vault ; and at the end of that a round house of stone ; and in the brick conduit there is a window; and in the round-house a slit or rift of some little breadth ; if you cry out in the rift, it will make a fearful roaring at the window.' In all this there is a certain ring of boyishness. To this time also belongs the story of the conjuror (Sylva, cent. x. 946), who must have exhibited his tricks at Sir Nicholas Bacon's house before Francis left England. But his father had in view for him a public career as states- man or diplomatist, and after he had spent nearly three years over his books at Cambridge, sent him to France to read men. On the 25th of September, 1576, we learn from Burghley's diary, ' Sir Amyas Paulet landed at Calliss going to be Amb. at France in Place of Dr. Dale.' It was not till the February following that he succeeded to the post. Bacon apparently joined him after his arrival in Paris, for on Nov. 21, 1576, he was admitted of the grand company at Gray's Inn, having V111 PREFACE. entered the Society on the 27th of June previous. He was sub- sequently 'entrusted with some message or advertisement to the Queen; which having performed with great approbation, he returned back into France again, with intention to continue for some years there.' (Rawley.) Here we find him still keen in his observation of natural phenomena, sounds as before occupying a great share of his attention. Let him describe what he heard in his own words written nearly fifty years later. ( For echoes upon echoes, there is a rare instance thereof in a place which I will now exactly describe. It is some three or four miles from Paris, near a town called Pont-Charenton ; and some bird-bolt shot or more from the river of Seine. The room is a chapel or small church. The walls all stand- ing, both at the sides and at the ends. Two rows of pillars, after the manner of aisles of churches, also standing ; the roof all open, not so much as any embowment near any of the walls left. There was against every pillar a stack of billets above a man's height ; which the watermen that bring wood down the Seine in stacks, and not in boats, laid there (as it seemeth) for their ease. Speaking at the one end, I did hear it return the voice thirteen several times : and I have heard of others, that it would return sixteen times : for I was there about three of the clock in the afternoon ; and it is best (as all other echoes are) in the evening I remember well, that when I went to the echo at Pont-Charenton, there was an old Parisian, who took it to be the work of spirits, and of good spirits. For (said he) call Satan, and the echo will not deliver back the devil's name ; but will say, igr Pat pub- ad 7th" farasceve Historiam Naturalem et Ex- perimentalem. 1620-1. Jan. 27. Created Viscount St. Alban. 162 1. May 3. Sentenced by the House of Lords. 1621-6. In this interval were com- posed Abecedarian Natural (lost except a fragment pub- lished by Tenison, 1679); Inquisitio de Magnete ( 1 65 8); Topica inquisitionis de luce et lumine (1653) ; _Sylva Sylvarum ( 1 (> 2 7 ) ; Oft r ~qf a Digest to be made of the Laws of England (1629). 1622. History of Henry VII; Historia Naturalis et Experimentalis; Advertisement touching an Holy War (1629). 1623. De Augment is Scientiarum libri ix ; Historia Vita; et Mortis ; History of the reign of Henry VIII (1629). 1624. Considerations touching a War with Spain (1629). „ N ew Atlantis (1627). „ Ufagnalia Natural (1627). „ Dec. Apophthegms. ,, ,, Translation of the Psalms. 1G25. Third edition of the Essays. 1626. Apr. 9. Bacon died at High- gate. Of the following works the date of composition is doubtful : — Phenomena Universi (1653); Scala Intellectus and Prodromi (1653); Cogitationes de Scientia Humana (1653) ; De Interpretatione Natural Sentential xii (1653) ; Short Notes for Civil Conversation (1648); Confession of Faith (1641); Pray ers (1648, 1679) ; Imago Civilis julii Caisaris (1658); Imago Civilis Augusli Caisaris (1658); Addi- tions to Camden s Annates (1717)1 In Henricum Principem Walliai Elogium (1763); Physiological and Medical Remains (1679). Between 1 596 and 1604 Bacon wrote the Letter and Discourse to Sir Henry Savill, touching Helps for the Intellectual Powers (1657) ; and, after July 1608, Redargutio Philosophiarum (1653). »Y^., t' ANALYSIS. BOOK I. OF THE EXCELLENCY OF LEARNING AND KNOWLEDGE. the King (1—3). The treati; The excellency of learning and knowledge. What has been done for the advancement of learning, with the defects of the same. I. The zeal and jealousy of divines (i. s, 3). II, The severity and arrogancy of politicians (ii. 1 — 9). of Learning \ 1. their fortun rising from nd imperfections of learned -> (ii».i-3); 3, the nature of their studic the studies themselves (i\ fi. Fantastical learning; (iv. 8— is). 1— 12K2, Contentious learning (iv. 5— 7J. I 3. Delicate learning (iv. 2—4}. 1. Affectation of antiquity and novelty (v. 1). 2. Distrust of new discoveries iv. 2). 3. Conceit that the best opinions prevail (v, 3). 4. Premature reduction of knowledge to arts and methods (v. 4). 5. Neglect of universality or philosophia prima (v. 5). 6. Too great reverence for the intellect (v. 6). 7. Mixture of knowledge with men's inclinations (v. 7). 8. Impatience of doubt (v. 8). 9. Dogmatic delivery of knowledge (v. 9). 10. Aim which men propound to themselves (v. 10). 11. Mistaking of the end of knowledge (v. 11). (B) Dignity (vi-viii f The work of creation (2). I Spirits (3). Light (4). I. Divine testimony (vi) In \ The Sabbath (5). I The contemplative life of Adam (6), and Abel (7) mentors of arts (8). The learning of Moses (9), Job (10), Solomon (11), Christ (is), the Apostles (13), the Fathers (14). the Jesuits (15). Supreme honours paid to inventors of arts (v : of learning upon The intercourse of man and man (vii. 2). States under learned princes { [jj J" c f v jj Private virtue (viii. r. 2). Power over the minds of men (viii. 3}. Fortune and advancement (viii. 4). Pleasure (viii. 5 ). Immortality (viii. 6). g. the Roman Emperors (vii. 4—8). Q- Elizabeth (vii. 9). 0); e.g. Alexander (vii. 11— 21), Caesar (vn. 22—29), Xenophon (vii. 30). THE FIRST BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON; OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN. < \JJ^^^' To the King. i. '"FHERE were under the law, excellent King, both daily sacrifices and freewill offerings ; the one pro ceeding upo n ordinary observance, the other upon a devout che erfulnes s* in like manner there belongeth to kings from their servants both tribute of duty and presents of affection. In the former of these I hope I shall not live to be wanting, according to my most humble duty, and the good pleasure of your Majesty's employments : for the latter, I thought it more r espectiv e to make choice of some oblation, which might rather refer to the propriety and excellency of your individual person, than to the business of your crown and state. 2. Wherefore, representing your Majesty many times unto my mind, and beholding you not with the inquisitive eye of presumption, to discover that which the Scripture telleth me is inscrutable, but with the observant eye of duty and admiration ; r leaving aside the other parts of your virtue and fortune, I have been touched, yea, and possessed with an extreme wonder at those your virtues B J <-*-*-» ^U_*^»x^oL»-*V Y ■ OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [»• -A. _ — W*->~/-*f~ It and faculties, which the Philosophers call intellectual ; ^he largeness of your capacity, the faithfulness of your memory, the swiftness of your apprehension, the^pene- tration of your judgement, and the facility and order of your*elocution : and I have often thought, that of all the persons living that I have known, your Majesty were the best instance to make a man of Plato's opinion, mat all knowledge is but remembrance, and that the mind of man by nature knoweth all things, and hath but her own native and original notions (which by the strangeness and darkness of this tabernacle^of the body are sequestered) again revived and restored : such a light of nature I have observed in your Majesty, and such a _cj readiness to take flame and blaze from the least occasion presented, or the least spark of another's knowledge de- livered. And as the Scripture saith of t he wisest kin^ , Thai his heart was as the sands of the sea ; which though it be one of the largest bodies, yet it consisteth of the smallest and finest portions ; so hath God given your Majesty a composition-of-understanding admirable, being A able to compass and co mprehend the greatest matters, and nevertheless to touch and apprehend the least ; whereas it should seem an impossibility in nature, for the same instrument to make itself fit for great and A. small works. And for your gift of speech, I call to mind what Cornelius Tacitus saith of Augustus Caesar : Atigusto profluens, et qua principe??i deceret, eloquentia fuit. For if we note it well, speech that is uttered with labour and difficulty, or speech that savoureth of the affectation of art and precepts, or speech that is framed after the imita- tion of some pattern of eloquence, though never so ex- cellent; all this hath somewhat servile, and holding of the ^subject. But your Majesty's manner of speech is \y^S\- /"V. ©-mioJL I feci' W\ 2.] THE FIRST BOOK. 3 indeed prince-like, flowing as from a fountain, and yet streaming and branching itself into nature's order, full of facility and felicity, imitating none, and inimitable by any. And as_in your civil estate there appeareth to be an emul- ation and contention of your Majesty's virtue with your fortune ; a virtuous disposition with a fortunate regiment; a virtuous expectation (when time was) of your greater fortune, with a prosperous possession thereof in the due time ; a virtuous observation of the laws of marriage, with most blessed and happy fruit of marriage*; a virtuous and most Christian desire of peace, with a fortunate inclination in your neighbour princes thereunto : so likewise in these intellectual matters, there seemeth to be no less con- tention between the exc ellency o f_ypur Majesty's gifts of nature and the universality and per fection oTy our learn - ing. For I am well assured that this which I shall say is no amplification at all, but a positive and measured truth ; which is, that there hath not been since Christ's time any king or temporal monarch, which hath been so learned in all literature and erudition, divine and human. For let a man seriously and diligently revolve and peruse the suc- cession of the emperors of Rome, of which Caesar the Dictator, who lived some years before Christ, and Marcus Antoninus were the best learned; and so descend to the emperors of Grecia, or of the West, and then to the lines of France, Spain, England, Scotland, and the rest, and he shall find this judgement is truly made. For it seemeth much in a king, if, by the compendious ex- tractions of other men's wits and labours, he can take hold of any superficial ornaments and shows of learning ; or if he countenance and prefer learning and learned men : but to drink indeed of the true fountains of learn- ing, nay, to have such a fountain of learning in himself, b 2 fc I. OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [2. ^U>T.j in a king, and in a king born, is almost a miracle. And the more, because there is met in your Majesty a rare conjunction, as well of divine and sacred literature, as of profane and human ; so as your Majesty standeth in- vested of that triplicity, which in great veneration was ascribed to the ancient Hermes ; the power and fortune of a king, the knowledge and illumination of a priest, and the learning and universality of a philosopher. This propriety inherent and individual attribute in your Majesty deserveth to be expressed not only in the fame and ad- miration of the present time, nor in the history or tradition of the ages succeeding, but also in some solid work, fixed memorial, and immortal monument, bearing a character or signature both of the power of a king and the differ- ence and perfection of such a king. 3. Therefore I did conclude with myself, that I could not make unto your Majesty a better oblation than of some treatise tending to that end, whereof the sum will consist of these two parts ; the former concerning the &v+± 1 excellency of learning and knowledge, and the excel- lency of the merit and true glory in the augmentation and propagation thereof : the latter , what the particular acts &mk. x and works are, which have been embraced and under- taken for the advancement of learning ; and again, what defects and undervalues I find in such particular acts : to the end that though I cannot positively or affirmatively advise your Majesty, or propound unto you framed par- ticulars, yet I may excite your princely cogitations to visit the excellent treasure of your own mind, and thence to extract particulars for this purpose, agreeable to your magnanimity and wisdom. I. i.] 7\tf£ FIRST BOOK. I. i. TN the entrance to the former of these, to clear the way, and as it were to make silence, to have the true testimonies concerning the dignity of learning to be better heard, without the interruption of tacit objec- tions ; I think good to deliver it from the discredits and disgraces which it hath received, all from ignorance ; but ignorance severally disguised; appearing sometimes in the zeal and jealousy of divines ; sometimes in the severity and arrogancy of pjoliticLues ; and sometimes in the errors and imperfections of learned men themselves. ^ , 2. I hear the former sort say, that knowledge is of durv^o th °se things which are to be accepted of with great limita- learned times have been inclined to atheism, and how the f contemplation of second causes doth derogate from our dependence upon God, who is the first cause. K*fr*oj,^ 3- To discover then the ignorance and error of this opinion, and the misunderstanding in the grounds thereof, a. it may well appear these men do not observe or consider that it was not the pure knowledge of nature and uni- ^^^ versality, a knowledge by the light whereof man did give ^c^_ _ names unto other creatures in Paradise, as they were $X^ZIX> w K>JLB - in it some nature of venom or malignity, and some effects "**" L "^ of that venom, which is ventosity or swelling. This cor- Mfr *t ■ rective spice, the mixture whereof maketh knowledge so sovereign, is charity, which the Apostle immediately addeth to the former clause: for so he saith, knowledge bloweth up, but charity buildeth up ; not unlike unto that which he delivereth in another place :' 'if I spake, saith he, with the tongues of men and angels, and had not charily, it were but as a tinkling cymbal ; not but that it is an excellent thing to speak with the tongues of men and angels, but because, if it be severed from charity, and not referred to the good of men and mankind, it hath rather ' a sounding and unworthy glory, than a meriting and C substantial virtue. 3 And as for that censure of Salomon, concerning the excess of writing and reading books, and : the anxiety of spirit which redoundeth from knowledge ; ti and that admonition of Saint Paul, That we be not seduced by vain philosophy ; let those places be rightly understood, and they do indeed excellently set forth the true bounds X ZJb '+1 p 1 (Uj-\^ -».1 ) » 13. i I- 6- ^v^Xo4Z^juo . r/M^ta^L Lt^^AaJt^. 8 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [1.3. and limitations, whereby human knowledge is confined and circumscribed ; and yet without any such contracting or coarctation, but that it may comprehend all the uni- versal nature of things ; for these limitations are three : the first, That we do not so place our felicity in knowledge, as we forget our mortality : the s econd , That we make application of our knowledge y to give ourselves repose and contentment, and not distaste or repining: the third , That we do not presume by the contemplation of nature to attain to the mysteries of God. For as touching the first of these, Salomon doth excellently expound himself in another place of the same book, where he saith :**/ saw well that knowledge recedeth as far from ignorance as light doth from darkness ; and that the wise mans eyes keep watch in his head, whereas the fool roundeth about in darkness : but withal I learned, thai the same mortality involvelh them both. And for the second, certain it is, there is no vexation or anxiety of mind which resulteth from knowledge other- wise than merely by accident; for all knowledge and wonder (which is the seed of knowledge; is an impression of pleasure in itself: but when men fall to framing con- clusions out of their knowledge, applying it to their par- ticular, and ministering to themselves thereby weak fears or vast desires, there groweth that carefulness and trouble of mind which is spoken of: for then knowledge is no more Lumen siccum, whereof Heraclitus the profound said, Lumen siccum optima anima ; but it becometh Lumen madidum, or maceratum, being steeped and infused in the humours of the affections. And as for the third point, it deserveth to be a little stood upon, and not to be lightly passed over : for if any man shall think by view and inquiry into these sensible and material things to attain that light, whereby he may reveal unto himself the nature y r** P&x. /P-tlAo. ^^ h I Col ^^ * *-1/f -5,) Aj-*-^£*z*y^ i. j.] THE FIRST BOOK. "k-«"*-»-'f^;oi»-£ or will of God, then indeed is he spoiled by vain philo- sophy: for the contemplation of God's creatures and works produceth (having regard to the works and crea- tures themselves) knowledge, but having regard to God, no perfect knowledge, but wonder, which is broken know- ledge. And therefore it was most aptly said by one* of Plato's school, Thai the sense of man carrieth a resem- blance with the sun, which (as we see) openeth and revealeth all the terrestrial globe ; but then again it obscure th and concealeth the stars and celestial globe : so doth the sense discover natural things, but it darheneth and shutteth up divine. And hence it is true that it hath proceeded, that x divers great learned men have been heretical, whilst they have sought to fly up to the secrets of the Deity by the Pwaxen wings of the senses. And as for the conceit that 3 aZjL*^^. too much knowledge should incline a man to atheism, and that the ignorance of second causes should make a more devout dependence upon God, which is the first cause; first, it is good to ask the question which Job asked of his friends : V Will you lie for God, as one ??ian will do for another, to gratify him r For certain it is that God worketh nothing* in nature but by second causes : lind if they would have it otherwise believed, it is mere im- posture, as it were in favour towards God : and nothing else but to offer to the author of truth the unclean sacrifice of a lie. But furthe r, it is an assured truth, and a conclusion of experience, that a little or superficial knowledge of philosophy may incline the mind of man to atheism, but a further proceeding therein doth bring the mind back again to religion. For in the entrance of philosophy, when the second causes, which are next unto the senses, do offer themselves to the mind of man, if it dwell and stay there it may induce some oblivion of the Y ^ is-i ^ (9 CwJfJ IO OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [i. 3. f\ *• highest cause ; but when a man passeth on further, and seeth the dependence of causes, and the works of Pro- vidence, then, according to the allegory of the*poets, he will easily believe that the highest link of nature's chain must needs be tied to the foot of Jupiter's chair. To conclude therefore, let no man upon a weak conceit of sobriety or an ill-applied moderation think or maintain, that a man can search too far, or be too well studied in the book of God's word, or in the book of God's works, divinity or philosophy ; but rather let men endeavour an endless progress or proficience in both; only let men beware that they apply both to charity , and not to swelling ; to use, and not to ostentation ; and again, that they do not unwisely mingle or confou nd these learnings together. II. 1. And as for the disgraces which learning re- A 1 _ ceiveth from politiques, they be of this nature; that *i£f learning doth soften men's minds, and makes them more unapt for the honour and exercise of arms ; that it Ar doth mar and pervert men's dispositions for matter of government and policy, in making them too curious and ms irresolute by variety of reading, or too peremptory or k' positive by strictness of rules and axioms, or too im- moderate and overweening by reason of the greatness of examples, or too incompatible and differing from the % ) times by reason of the dissimilitude of examples; or at least, t hat it doth divert men's travails from action and £ business, and bringeth them to a love of leisure and privateness; and that it doth bring into states a relaxa- - countenance of gravity than any ground of justice : for experience doth warrant, that both in persons and in times there hath been a meeting and concurrence in learning and arms, flourishing and excelling in the same men and the same ages. For as for men, there cannot be a better nor the like instance, as of that pair, Alexand er the Great and JuliusCaesar the Dictator ; whereof the one ^ was Aristotle's scholar in philosophy, and the other was P{ -rvvV- eJ Ol /WA/ KW-^^i •>~~*-A*K4 I -Vwd^ . B^^/jl . KB^j^-*— ( r 9l r.; T^.^7 — **vi i -M.r\^lA^j 12 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [il. 2. Cicero's rival in eloquence : or if any man had rather call for scholars that were great generals, than generals that were great scholars, let him take Epaminonda s the L because it exerciseth some faculty wherein they take pride, and so entertaineth them in good humour and a' pleasing conceits toward themselves ; or because it advanceth any other their ends. So that as it is said of untrue valours, that some men's valours are in the eyes of them that look on ; so such men's industries are in the eyes of others, or at least in regard of their 1 6 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [il. 5. "2- C ->^LL4sl ld->L~~^^ \^JJt \tr*tiy own designments : only learned men love business as an action according to nature, as agreeable to health of mind as exercise is to health of body, taking pleasure in the action itself, and not in the purchase : so that of all men they are the most indefatigable, if it be towards any business which can hold or detain their mind. 6. And if any man be laborious in reading and study and yet idle in business and action, it groweth from some weakness of body or softness of spirit ; such as Seneca speaketh of: Quidam tarn sunt umbratiles, ut putenl in turbido esse quicquid in luce est ; and not of learning : well may it be that such a point of a man's nature may make him give himself to learning, but it is not learning that breedeth any such point in his nature. 7. And that learning should take up too much time or leisure ; I answer, the most active or busy man that hath been or can be, hath (no question) many vacant times of leisure, while he expecteth the tides and returns of busi- ness (except he be either tedious and of no dispatch, or lightly and unworthily ambitious to meddle in things that may be better done by others), and then the question is but how those spaces and times of leisure shall be filled and spent ; whether in pleasures or in studies ; as was well answered by Demosthenes to his adversary iEschines, that was a man given to pleasure and told him That his orations did smell 0/ the lamp ; Indeed (said Demosthenes) there is a great difference between the things that you and I do by lamp-light. So as no man need doubt that learning will expulse business, but rather it will keep and defend the possession of the mind against idleness and pleasure, which otherwise at unawares may enter to the prejudice of both. 8. Again, for that other conceit that learning should • &JUc_**~9 II. 8.] 77/£ F/KST BOOK. undermine the reverence of laws and government, it is assuredly a mere depravation and calumny, without all shadow of truth. For to say that a blind custom of obedience should be a surer obligation than duty taught and understood, it is to affirm, that a blind man may tread surer by a guide than a seeing man can by a light. And it is without all controversy, that learning doth make the minds of men gentle, generous, maniable, and pliant to government; whereas ignorance makes them churlish, thwart, and mutinous : and the evidence of time doth clear this assertion, considering that the most barbarous, rude, and unlearned times have been most subject to tumults, seditions, and changes. ; 9. And as to the judgement of Cato the Censor, he was well punished for his blasphemy against learning, in the same kind wherein he offended ; for when he was past threescore years old, he was taken with an extreme desire to go to school again, and to learn the Greek tongue, to the end to peruse the Greek authors ; which doth well demonstrate that his former censure of the Grecian learning was rather an affected gravity, than according to the inward sense of his own opinion. And as for Virgil's verses, though it pleased him to brave the world in taking to the Romans the art of empire, and leaving to others the arts of subjects ; yet so much is manifest that the Romans never ascended to that height of empire, till the time they had ascended to the height of other arts. For in the time of the two first Caesars, which had the art of government in greatest perfection, there lived the best poet, Virgilius Maro ; the best historio- grapher, Titus Livius ; the best antiquary, Marcus Varro ; and the best, or second orator, Marcus Cicero, that to the memory of man are known. As for the accusation - Hz.- 3 • <^_o«X*-o ♦— — (r AA^-t^/^ r8 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [u. 9 . of Socrates, the time must be remembered when it was (v*»U. prosecuted ; which was under the Thirty Tyrants, the most base, bloody, and envious persons that have go- verned ; which revolution of state was no sooner over, but Socrates, whom they had made a person criminal, was made a person heroical, and his memory accumulate with honours divine and human; and those discourses of his which were then termed corrupting of manners, were after acknowledged for sovereign medicines of the mind and manners, and so have been received ever since till this day. Let this therefore serve for answer to politiques, which in their humorous severity, or in their feigned gravity, have presumed to throw imputations upon learning ; which redargution nevertheless (save that we know not whether our labours may extend to other ages) were not needful for the present, in regard of the love and reverence towards learning, which the example and countenance of two so learned princes, Queen Elizabeth and your Majesty, being as Castor and Pollux, lucida sidera, stars of excellent light and most benign i nfluence , hath wrought in all men of place and authority in our nation. III. i. Now therefore we come to that third sort of A 3 discredit or diminution of credit that groweth unto learning from learned men themselves, which com- monly cleaveth fastest : it is either from their fortun e, and great persons had long since turned to rudeness W^-j d*.*^ and barbarism, if the poverty of learning had not kept up civility and honour of life : but without any such advan- tages^ it is worthy the observation what a reverent and honoured thing poverty of fortune was for some ages in the Roman state, which nevertheless was a state without paradoxes. For we see what Titus Livius saith in his introduction : Cceierum aut me amor negotii suscepti fallit f aut nulla unquam respublica nee major, nee sanclior, nee bonis exemplis di/ior fuit ; nee in quam tarn serai avaritia luxuriaque immigraverint ; nee ubi lanlus ac tarn dia pau- per taii ac parsinwnia? honos fueril. We see likewise, after that the state of Rome was not itself, but did degenerate, how that person that took upon him to be counsellor to Julius Caesar after his victory where to begin his restora- tion of the state, maketh it of all points the most sum- mary to take away the estimation of wealth : Verum haze el omnia mala pariter cum honore pecuniae desinenl; si neque magislralus, neque alia vtdgo cupienda, venalia eruni. To c 2 4 i JU^. 20 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [ill. 2. conclude this point, as it was truly said, that Rubor est virtutis color, though sometime it come from vice ; so it may be fitly said that Paupcrlas est virtutis fortuna, though sometimes it may proceed from misgovernment and ac- cident. Surely Salomon hath pronounced it both in censure, Qui festinat ad divitias non erit insons ; and in precept; Buy the truth, a?id sell it not ; and so of wisdom and knowledge ; judging that means were to be spent upon learning, and not learning to be applied to means. And as for the privaten ess or ob scureness (as it may be in vulgar estimation accounted) of life of contemplative men ; it is a theme so common to extol a private life, not taxed with sensuality and sloth, in comparison and to the disadvantage of a civil life, for safety, li bert y, pleasure, and dignity, or at least freedom from indignity, as no man handleth it but handleth it well; such a consonancy it hath to men's conceits in the expressing, and to men's consents in the allowing. This only I will add, that learned men forgotten in states and not living in the eyes of men, are like the images of Cassius and Brutus in the funeral of Junia ; of which not being represented, as many others were, Tacitus saith, Eo ipso prcefulgebant, quod non visebaniur. 3. And for meanness of employmen t, that which is most traduced to contempt is that the government of ^ 1^v< ^v^JJCo eUo. G-U -Vj~Owv / 22 OF 77/£ ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, fill. ; fl . >■— ^ 'i>U*^ to them as they are learned ; except it be a fault (which -lL, a*, &***- was the supposed fault of Demosthenes, Cicero, Cato the second, Seneca, and many more) that because the times they read of are commonly better than the times they live fi in, and the duties taught better than the duties practised, * they contend sometimes too far to bring things to per- fection, and to reduce the corruption of manners to honesty of precepts or examples of too great height. And yet hereof they have caveats enough in their own walks. For Solon , when he was asked whether he had given his citizens the best laws, answered wisely, Yea of such as they would receive : and Plato , finding that his own heart could not agree with the corrupt manners of his country, refused to bear place or office ; saying, That a mans country was to be used as his parents were i that is, with humble persuasions, and not with contestations. And Caesar 's counsellor put in the same caveat, Non ad Vetera inslitula revocans qua jampr idem corruptis moribus ludibrio sunt: and Cicer o noteth this error directly in Cato the second, when he writes to his friend Atticus ; Cato optime sentit, sed nocet interdum reipublicce ; loquitur enim ta?iquam in republicd Platonis, non tanquam in face Romuli. And the same Cicero doth excuse and expound the philo- sophers for going too far and being too exact in their prescripts, when he saith, Isti ipsi prceceptores virlulis et magislri videntur fines officiorum paulo longius quam natura vellet proiulisse, ul cum ad ultimum animo contendissemus, ibi tamen, ubi oportet, consisteremus : and yet himself might have said, Monitis sum minor ipse meis ; for it was his own fault, though not in so extreme a degree. 6. Another fault likewise much of this kind hath been V incident to learned men ; which is, that they have es- teemed the preservation, good, and honour of their III. 6.'] THE FIRST BOOK. 2$ countries or masters before their own fortunes or safeties. For so saith Demosthenes unto the Athenians ; If it please you to note it, my counsels unto you are not such whereby I should grow great amongst you, and you become little amongst' the Grecians ; but they be of that nature, as they are sometimes not good for me to give, but are always good for you to follow. And so Seneca , after he had con- secrated that Quinquennium Neronis to the eternal glory of learned governors, held on his honest and loyal course of good and free counsel, after his master grew extremely corrupt in his government. Neither can this point other- wise be ; jor learning endueth men's minds with a true : sense of the frailty of their persons, the casualty of their fortunes, and the dignity of their soul and vocation : so X*jtu. \k^ that it is impossible for them to esteem that any greatness o»*»-m-* a of their own fortune can be a true or worthy end of their c ^^ ( ^* J ^ being and ordainment ; and therefore are desirous to give their account to God, and so likewise to their masters under God (as kings and the states that they serve) in these words; Ecce tibi lucrefeci, K and not Ecce mihi lucrefeci : whereas the corrupter sort of mere politiques, that have not their thoughts established by learning in the love and apprehension of duty, nor never look abroad into univers- ality, do refer all things to themselves, and thrust them- selves into the centre of the world, as if all lines should meet in them and their fortunes ; never caring in all tempests what becomes of the ship of estates, so they may save themselves in the cockboat of their own for- tune : ^whereas men that feel the weight of duty and know the limits of self-love, use to make good their % places and duties, though with peril ; and if they stand in seditious and violent alterations, it is rather the reverence which many times both adverse parts do give to honesty, JJa*a-^ W \A V^jJL^^ »-4V » i*^^* 24 of r//E ^z)F^ivc^ , ^^iV7 , op learning, [hi. 6. Aug , than any versatile advantage of their own carriage. But for this point of tender sense and fast obligation of duty which learning doth endue the mind withal, howsoever fortune may tax it, and many in the depth of their corrupt principles may despise it, yet it will receive an open allowance, and therefore needs the less disproof or ex- cusation. 7. Another faul t incident commonly to learned men, c' which may be more probably defended than truly denied, is, that they fail sometimes in ap pljing_ themselv es to particular persons : which want of exact application ariseth from two_causes ; the one, because the largeness a/ 1 of their mind can hardly confine itself to dwell in the exquisite observation or examination of the nature and customs of one person : for it is a speech for a lover, and not for a wise man, *£#/?> magnum alter alter i theatrum sumus. Nevertheless I shall yield, that he that cannot contract the sight of his mind as well as disperse and dilate it. wanteth a great faculty . But there is a second -Is cause, which is no inability, but a rejection upon c hoice and judgement. * For the honest and just bounds of ob- servation by one person upon another, extend no further but to understand him sufficiently, whereby not to give him offence, or whereby to be able to give him faithful counsel, or whereby to stand upon reasonable guard and caution in respect of a man's self. But to be speculative into another man to the end to know how to work him, or wind him, or govern him, proceedeth from a heart that is double and cloven and not entire and ingenuous ; which as in friendship it is want of integrity, so towards princes W superiors is want of duty. For the custom of the Levant, which is that subjects do forbear to gaze or fix their eyes upon princes, is in the outward ceremony R-y III. 7.] THE FIRST BOOK. 25 barbarous, but the moral is good : for men ought not by cunning and bent observations to pierce and penetrate into the hearts of kings, which the scripture hath de- clared to be inscrutable. d' 8. There is yet another fault (with which I will con- Fqjl^^ * elude this part) which is often noted in learned men, that r*A*** <*jlc^ they do many times fail to observe decency and discre- tion in their behaviour and carriage, and commit errors in small and ordinary points of action, so as the vulgar sort of capacities do make a judgement of them in greater matters by that which they find wanting in them in smaller. But this consequence* doth oft deceive men, for which I do refer them over to that which was said by Themistocles, arrogantly and uncivilly being applied to himself out of his own mouth, but, being applied to the general state of this question, pertinently and justly; when being invited to touch a lute he said r /& could not fiddle, but he could make a small town a great state. So no doubt many may be well seen in the passages of government and policy, which are to seek in little and punctual occasions. I refer them also to that which Plato said of his master Socrates, whom he compared to the gallipots of apothecaries, which on the outside had apes and owls and a ntiques but contained within so- vereign and precious liquors and confection s ; acknow- ledging that to an external report he was not without superficial levities and deformities, but was inwardly re- plenished with excellent virtues and powers. And so much touching the point of manners of learned men. y 9. But in the mean time I have no purpose to give ft an c a allowan ce to some conditions and courses base and ^> unworthy, wherein divers professors of learning have ^ wronged themselves and gone too far ; such as were 7» ts^-k^ ^>Xv^w, ■^ ^A^Jd, -i-^CL^ 3 26 OF 77f£ ;4Z)PMA T CEiV£A T r OF LEARNING, [ill. 9. Al^r those t rencher philosopher s which in the later age of * the Roman state were usually in the houses of great persons, being little better than s olemn parasite s ; of which kind, Lucian maketh a merry description of the philosopher that the great lady took to ride with her in her coach, and would needs have him carry her little dog, which he doing officiously and yet uncomely, the page scoffed and said, That he doubted the philosopher of a Stoic would turn to be a Cynic* But above all the rest, the gross and palpable flat tery, whereunto many \ not unlearned have abased and abused their wits and pens, turning (as Du B arta s saith) Hecuba into Helena , and Fa ustina into Lucret ia, hath most diminished the | price and estimation of learning. Neither is the modern dedication of book s and writing?, as to patrons, to be commended : for that books (such as are worthy the name of books) ought to have no patrons but truth and reason. And the ancient custom was to dedicate them only to private and equal friends, or to entitle the books with their names : or if to kings and great persons, it was to some such as the argument of the book was fit and pro- per for : but these and the like courses may deserve rather reprehension than defence. 10. Not that I can tax or condemn the morigeration £ or application of learned men to men in fortune. For the answer was good that Diogenes made to one that asked him in mockery, How it came to pass that philo- sophers were the followers of rich men, and not rich men of philosophers ? He answered soberly, and yet sharply, Because the one sort knew what they had need of and the other did not. And of the like nature was the answer which Aristippus made, when having a petition to Dio- nysius, and no ear given to him, he fell down at his feet ; 1^ j> QsV>SlA~L,' ^ pr 5 III. 10.] THE FIRST BOOK. 27 whereupon Dionysius stayed and gave him the hearing, and granted it; and afterward some person, tende r on the behalf of philosophy, reproved Aristippus that he would offer the profession of philosophy such an indig- nity as for a private suit to fall at a tyrant's feet : but he answered, 7/ was not his fault, but it was the fault of Dionysius, that had his ears in his feet. Neither was it accounted weakness but discretion in him that would not dispute his best with Adrianus Caesa r ; excusing himself, That it was reason to yield to him that commanded thirty legions. These an d t he like applic ations and st ooping: to points of necessit y and convenience cannot be disallow- ed ; for though they may hav e some outward baseness . yet in a judgement t ruly made they are to be accounted su bmissions to the occasion and not to the person . IV. 1. Now I proceed to those errors and vanities which have intervened amongst the studies themselve s of the learned, which is that which is principal and proper to the presen t argument ; wherein my purpose is not to make a justification of the errors, but by a censur e and separation of the errors to make a justification of that which is good and sound, and to deliver that from the aspersion of the other. For we see that it is the manner of men to scandalize and deprave that which retaineth the state* and virtue, by taking advantage upon that which is corrupt and degenerate : as the heathens in the primitive church used to blemish and taint the Christians with the faults and corruptions of heretics. But nevertheless I have no meaning at this time to make any exact animadversion of the errors and impediments in matters of learning, which are more secret and remote from vulgar opinion, but only to speak unto such as do fall under or near unto a popular observation. * HtJUjujJ. c*U£L 28 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. 2. a , 2. There be therefore chiefly three vanities in studies, whereby learning hath been most traduced. For those things we do esteem vain , which are either false or fri- volous, those which either have no truth or no use : and those persons we esteem vain, which are either credulous or curious; and curiosity is either in matter or words: so that in reason as well as in experience there fall out to be these three distempers (as I may term them) of learning : the first, fantastica l learning ; the second, con - U tcnti'/Mip Iflorniniv • o r\ A tV>e> loot /"lol i on f c» Icnvninry • train ls~L*~t? tentious learning ; and the last, delicate learning ;~vain ^ imaginations, vain altercations, and vain affectations ; and with the last I will begin. ^ Martin Luther, conducted (no doubt) by an higher providence, but in discourse of rea- son , finding what a province he had undertaken against the bishop of Rome and the degenerate traditions of the church, and finding his own solitude, being no ways aided by the opinions of his own time, was enforced to awake all antiquity, and to call former times to his suc- cours to make a party against the present time : so that the ancient authors, both in divinity and in humanity, which had long time slept in libraries, began generally to be read and revolved. This by consequence did draw on a necessity of a more exquisite travail in the lan- 1 *- guages original, wherein those authors did write, for the better understanding of those authors, and the better advantage of pressing and applying their words. And thereof grew again a delight in their manner of style and phrase, and an admiration of that kind of writing ; which was much furthered and precipitated by the enmity and opposition that the propounders of those primitive but seeming new opinions had against the schoolmen; who were generally of the contrary part, and whose writings were altogether in a different style and form ; taking --^ IV 1 THE FIRST BOOK. 2 9 liberty to coin and frame new terms of art to express their own sense, and to avoid circuit of speech, without regard to the pureness, pleasantness, and (as I may call j' it) lawfulness of the phrase or word. And again, because the great labour then was with the people (of whom the Pharisees were wont to say, Execrabilis ista lurba, qua 11011 novit legem), for the winning and persuading of them, there grew of necessity in chief price and request elo- quence and variety of discourse, as the fittest and forci- blest access into the capacity of the vulgar sort : so that these four causes concurring, the admiration of ancient ' — a ' /»' authors, the hate of the schoolmen, the exact study of ji * languages, and the efficacy of preaching, did bring in an affectionate study of eloquence and copie of speech , which then began to flourish. This grew speedily to an excess ; for men began to hunt more after words than matter; more after the choiceness of the phrase, and the round and clean composition of the sentence, and the sweet falling of the clauses, and the varying and illustration of their works with tropes and figures, than after the weight of matter, worth of subject, soundness of argument, life of invention, or depth of judgement. Then grew the flowing and watery vein of Osorius * the Portugal bishop, to be in price. Then did S turmiu s spend such infinite and curious pains upon Cicero the Orator, and Hermo - genes the Rhetorician, besides his own books of Periods and Imitation, and the like. Then did Car of Cam- bridge and Ascham with their lectures and writings almost deify Cicero and Demosthenes, and allure all young men that were studious unto that delicate and polished kind of learning. Then did Erasmus take oc- casion to make the scoffing echo, Decern annos consumpsi in legendo Cicerone ; and the echo answered in Greek >i,r»fc-So (^N-H-f 101) £ IT**!- *3 I G-o tttCjL'va ifc o> O-*-^ Myii^ V ~ J Y- faY k i I 30 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. 2. One, Asine. Then grew the learning of the schoolmen to be utterly despised as barbarous. In sum , the whole Inclination and bent of those times was rather towards - copie than weight . 3. Here therefore is the first distemper of learning, when men study words and not matter ; whereof, though I have represented an example of late times, yet it hath been and will be secundum majus el minus in all time. And how is it possible but this should have an operation to discredit learning, even with vulgar capacities, when they see learned men's works like the first letter of a patent, or limned book ; which though it hath large flou- rishes, yet it is but a letter ? It seems to me thaL Pygma- lion's frenzy is a good emblem or portraiture of this vanity : for words are but the images of matter ; and except they have life of reason and invention, to fall in love with them is all one as to fall in love with a picture. 4. But yet notwithstanding it is a thing not hastily to be condemned, to clothe and adorn the obscurity even of philosophy itself with sensible and p lausible elocution. For hereof we have great examples in Xenophon, Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and o f Plato also in some degre e ; and hereof likewise there is great use : for surely, to the severe inquisition of truth and the deep progress into / philosophy, it is some hindrance ; because it is too early !' satisfactory to the mind of man, and quencheth the de- i sire of further search, before we come to a just period. But then if a man be to have any use of such knowledge in civil occasions, of conference, counsel, persuasion, dis- course, or the like, then shall he find it prepared to his hands in those authors which write in that manner. But the excess of this is so justly contemptible, that as Her- cules, when he saw the image of Adonis, Venus' minion, A3 ^cx -~&' 7 Ji^yrJU^, in ?<£yJL #cV«-0 • i IV. 4.] THE FIRST BOOK. 3 1 in a temple, said in disdain, Nil sacri es; so there is none of Hercules' followers in learning, that is, the more severe and laborious sort of inquirers into truth, but will despise ib- ~ those delicacies and affectations, as indeed capable of no ^ A>- "T divineness. And thus much of the first disease or dis- y\kj ^ v_.f v ° temper of learning. 3 5- The second which folio weth is in nature worse than the former : for as substance of matter is better than beauty of words, so contrariwise vain matte r is worse than vain words : wherein it seemeth the reprehension of Saint Paul was not only proper for those times, but pro- phetical for the times following ; and not only respective to divinity, but extensive to all knowledge : Devila pro- fanas vocum novitates, el oppositiones falsi nominis sciential. For he assigneth two marks and badges of suspected and falsified science : the one , the novelty and strange- ness of terms ; the other , the strictness of positions, which of necessity doth induce oppositions, and so ques- tions and altercations. Surely, like as many substances in nature which are solid do putrify and corrupt into worms ; so it is the property of good and sound know- ledge to putrify and dissolve into a number of subtle, idle, unwholesome, and (as I may term them) vermiculat e questions , which have indeed a kind of quickne ss and life of spirit, but no soundness of matter or goodness of quality. This kind of degenerate learning did chiefly reign amongst the '^schoolme n : who having sharp and strong wits, and abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading, but their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors (chiefly Aristotle their dictator) as their per- sons were shut up in the cells of monasteries and col- leges, and knowing little history, either of nature or time, did out of no great quantity of matter and infinite * "fc-©-&-&-£-»-o-ey^ L-0-£*jJb» ^-C0-41aJ^. r I 'Vw. la- 2-0 ^Jrs -t-a-V 32 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. 5. agitation of wit spin out unto us those laborious webs of learning which are extant in their books. For the wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which is the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh accord- ing to the stuff and is limited thereby ; but if it work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, then it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of learning, admirable for the fineness of thread and work, but of no substance or profit. 6. This same unprofitable subtility or curiosity is of two sorts ; either in the subject itself that they handle, when it is a fruitless speculation or controversy (whereof there are no small number both in divinity and philo- sophy), or in the manner or method of handling of a knowledge, which amongst them was this ; upon every particular position or assertion to frame objections, and to those objections, solutions ; which solutions were for the most part not confutations, but distinctions : whereas indeed the strength of all sciences is, as the strength of the old man's faggot, in the bond. For the harmony of a science, supporting each part the other, is and ought to be the true and brief confutation and suppression of all the smaller sort of objections. But, on the other side, if you take out every axiom, as the sticks of the faggot, one by one, you may quarrel with them and bend them and break them at your pleasure : so that as was said of Seneca, Verborum minutiis rerum frangit ponder a, so a man may truly say of the schoolmen, Quceslionum minutiis scientiarnm frangunt soliditatem. For were it not better for a man in a fair room to set up one great light, or branching candlestick of lights, than to go about with a small watch candle into every corner? And such is their method, that rests not so much upon evidence of /A 3. 1 V IV. 6.] THE FIRST BOOK. 33 &u. truth proved by arguments, authorities, similitudes, ex- amples, as upon particular confutations and solutions of every scruple, cavillation, and objection ; breeding for the most part one question as fast as it solveth another ; even as in the former resemblance, when you carry the light into one corner, you darken the rest ; so that the fable and fiction of Scylla seemeth to be a lively image of this kind of philosophy or knowledge ; which was trans- formed into a comely virgin for the upper parts ; but then Candida succindam latrantibus inguina monstris : so the generalities of the schoolmen are for a while good and proportionable ; but then when you descend into their distinctions and decisions, instead of a fruitful womb for the use and benefit of man's life, they end in monstrous altercations and barking questions. So as it is not possible but this quality of knowledge must* fall under p opular conte mpt, the people being apt to I contemn truth upon occasion of controversies and alter- cations, and to think they are all out of their way which never meet ; and when they see such digladiation about subtilties, and matter of no use or moment, they easily fall upon that judgement of Dionysius of Syracusa, Verba ista sunt senum otiosorum. 7. Notwithstanding, certain it is that if those school- men to their great thirst of truth and unwearied travail of wit had joined variety and universality of reading and contemplation, they had proved excellent lights, to the great advancement of all learning and knowledge ; but as they are, they are great undertakers indeed, and fierce with dark keeping. But as in the inquiry of the divine truth, their pride inclined to leave the ^ oracle of God's word , and to vanish in the mixture of their own inventions ; so in the inquisition of nature, they ever left D US Sc^JLV £ t^Xui 34 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. 7. ^ 3 c the oracle of God's works , and adored the deceiving and deformed images which the unequal mirror of their own minds, or a few received authors or principles, did re- present unto them."] And thus much for the second disease of learning. 8. For the third vice or disease of learning , which V concerneth deceit or untruth , it is of all the rest the foulest ; as that which doth destroy the essential form of knowledge, which is nothing but a representation of truth: for the tr uth of bei ng and the t ruth of kn owing .,.,. are one, differing no more than the direct beam and the beam reflected. This vice therefore brancheth itself into two sorts ; delight in deceiving and aptness to be de- ceived ; i mpostu re and credulity ; which, although they a' ». > « appear to be of a diverse nature, the one seeming to proceed of cunning and the other of simplicity, yet certainly they do for the mo st part concur : for, as the verse noteth, Percontatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est, "^ ' an inquisitive man is a prattler ; so upon the like reason a credulous man is a deceiver : as we see it in fame, that he that will easily believe rumours, will as easily augment rumours and add somewhat to them of his own ; which Tacitus wisely noteth, when he sa.ith, v Fingtmf simul cre- dunique : so great an affinity hath fiction and belief. 9. This facility of credit and accepting or admitting a! things weakly authorized or warranted, is of two kind s according to the subject : for it is either a belief of history, or, as the lawyers speak, matter of fact ; or else a" of matter of art and opinion. As to the former, we jr* a 1 see the experience and inconvenience of this error in ecclesiastical history ; which hath too easily received and < registered reports and narrations of miracles wrought by *(L^T^c 1 "dLa^. c/vj-doUSoL ^Vfi-jU tU' IV. 9 ] THE FIRST BOOK, cr>v> (s'" lr" 35 martyrs, hermits, or monks of the desert, and other holy men, and their relics, shrines, chapels, and images : which though they had a p assage for a time by the ignorance of the people, the superstitious simplicity of some, and the politic toleration of others, holding them but as divine poesies ; yet after a period of time, when the mist began to clear up, they grew to be esteemed but as old wives' fables, impostures of the clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of Antichrist, to the great scandal and detriment of religion. 10. So in natural history , we see there hath not been that choice and judgement used as ought to have been ; as may appear in the writings of Plinius, *Cardanus, Albertus, and divers of the Arabians, being fraught with much fabulous matter, a great part not only untried, but notoriously untrue, to the great derogation of the credit of natural philosophy with the grave and sober kind of wits: wherein the wisdom and integrity of Aristotle is worthy to be observed ; that, having made so diligent and exquisite a history of living creatures, hath mingled it sparingly with any vain or feigned matter : and yet on the other side hath cast all pro- digious narrations, which he thought worthy the record- ing, into one^book : excellently discerning that matter of manifest truth, such whereupon observation and rule was to be built, was not to be mingled or weakened with matter of doubtful credit; and yet again, that rarities and reports that seem uncredible are not to be suppressed or denied to the memory of men. ii. And as for the facility of credit which is yielded to arts and opinions , it is likewise of two kinds ; either when too much belief is attributed to the arts themselves , or to c ertain authors in any art. The sciences themselves, D 2 - K«rf- ^ fr+^jh "-La i _<^Cv*^» lw\*H*o 36 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. II. which have had better intelligence and confederacy with the imagination of man than with his reason, are three in number ; astrolog y, n atural mag ic, and alchemy : of which sciences, nevertheless, the ends or pretences are noble . For astrology pretendeth to discover that correspondence or concatenation which is between the superior globe and the inferior : natural magic pretendeth to call and reduce natural philosophy from variety of speculations to the magnitude of works : and alchemy pretendeth to make separation of all the unlike parts of bodies which in mixtures of nature are incorporate. But the derivations and prosecutions to these ends, both in the theories and in the practices, are full of error and vanity; which the great professors themselves have sought to veil over and conceal by enigmatical writings, and referring themselves to auricular tradition s and such other devices, to save the credit of impostures. And yet surely to alchemy this right is due, that it may be compared to the husbandman whereof Mso\> makes the fable ; that, when he died, told his sons that he had left unto them gold buried under ground in his vineyard ; and they digged over all the ground, and gold they found none ; but by reason of their stirring and digging the mould about the roots of their vines, they had a great vintage the year following : so assuredly the search and stir to make gold hath brought to light a great number of good and fruitful inventions and ex- periments, as well for the disclosing of nature as for the use of man's life. 12. And as for the overmuch credit that hath been given unto authors in sciences, in making them dictators, that their words should stand, and not consuls to give advice; the damage is infinite that sciences' have received h*.-i 1 c vrXK^^xjaJL^ IV. 12.] THE FIRST BOOK. 37 thereby, as the principal cause that hath kept them low at a stay without growth or advancement. For hence it hath comen, that in arts mechanical the first deviser comes shortest, and time addeth and perfecteth ; but in sciences the first author goeth furthest, and time leeseth and corrupteth. So we see, artillery, sailing, printing, and the like, were grossly managed at the first, and by time accommodated and refined : but contrariwise, the philo- sophies and sciences of Aristotle, Plato, Democritus, Hippocrates, Euclides, Archimedes, of most vigour at the first and by time degenerate and imbased ; whereof the reason is no other, but that in the former many wits and industries have contributed in one ; and in the latter many wits and industries have been spent about the wit of some one, whom many times they have rather de- praved than illustrated. For as water will not ascend higher than the level of the first springhead from whence it descendeth, so knowledge derived from Aristotle, and exempted from liberty of examination, will not rise again higher than the knowledge of Aristotle. And therefore although the position be good, Oportet discentem credere, yet it must be coupled with this, Oportet edoctumjudicare; for disciples do owe unto masters only a temporary belief and a suspension of their own judgement till they be fully instructed, and not an absolute resignation or per- petual captivity : and therefore, to conclude this point, I will say no more, but so let great authors have their ^>^*jL- due, as time, which is the author of a uthors, be not deprived of his due, which is, further and further to discover truth. Thus have I gone over these three diseases of learning; besides the which there are some other rather peccant humour s than formed diseases, which nevertheless are not so secret and intrinsic but 38 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [IV. 12. f\ 3 c £ that they fall under a popular observation and traduce- ment, and therefore are not to be passed over. V. 1. The first of these is the ext reme affe cting of two extremities : the one ant iquit y, the other novelty; wherein it seemeth the children of tune do take after the nature and malice of the father. For as he devo ureth his childre n, so one of them seeketh to devour and suppress the other ; while antiquity envieth there should be new additions, and novelty cannot be content to add but it must deface : surely the advice of the prophet is the true direction in this matter, State super vias antiquas, et videte quamam sit via recta et bona et ambulate in ea. Antiquity deserveth that reverence, that men should make a stand thereupon and discover what is the best way; but when the discovery is well taken, then to make pro- gression. And to speak truly, Antiquitas sccadi juvenilis mundi. These times are the ancient times, when the world is ancient, and not those which we account ancient or dine relrogrado, by a computation backward from our- selves. 2. Another error induced by the former is a distrust that anything should be now to be found out, which the world should have missed and passed over so long time ; as if the same objection were to be made to time, that Lucian maketh to Jupiter and other the heathen gods ; of which he wondereth that they begot so many children in old time, and begot none in his time; and asketh whether they were become septuagenarj r , or whether the law Pafiia , made against old men's mar- riages, had restrained them. So it seemeth men doubt lest time is become past children and generation; wherein contrariwise we see commonly the levity and unconstancy of men's judgements, which till a matter V. 2.] THE FIRST BOOK. 39 be done, wonder that it can be done ; and as soon as it is done, wonder again that it was no sooner done : as we see in the expedition of Alexander into Asia, which at first was prejudged as a vast and impossible enterprise ; and yet afterwards it pleaseth Livy to make no more of it than this, Nil aliud quam bene ausus vana conlenmere. And the same happened to Columbu s in the western navigation. But in intellectual matters it is much more common ; as may be seen in most of the propositions of Euclid ; which till they be demonstrate, they seem strange to our assent ; but being demonstrate, our mind accepteth of them by a kind of relation (as the lawyers speak) as if we had known them before. 3. Another error, that hath also some affinity with the former, is a conceit that of former opinions or sects after variety and examination the best hath still prevailed and suppressed the rest ; so as if a man should begin the labour of a new search, he were but like to light upon somewhat formerly rejected, and by rejection brought into oblivion : as if the multitude, or the wisest for the mult- itude's sake, were not ready to give passage rather to that which is popular and superficial, than to that which is substantial and profound ; for the truth is, that time seemeth to be of the nature of a river or stream, which carrieth down to us that which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is weighty and solid. 4. Another error, of a diverse nature from all the former, is the over-early and peremptory reduction o f knowledge into arts and methods ; from which time commonly sciences receive small or no augmentation. But as young men, when they knit and shape perfectly, do seldom grow to a further stature ; so knowledge, while it is in aphorisms and observations, it is in growth : but 40 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [v. 4. y^^m^. *L Ju^ Y^r ■V- Uj~aJr k when it once is comprehended in exact methods, it may perchance be further polished and illustrate and accom- modated for use and practice ; but it increaseth no more in bulk and substance. 5. Another eiror which doth succeed that which we last mentioned, is, that after the distribution of particular arts and sciences, men have abandoned universality, or philosophic, prima : which cannot but cease and stop all progression. For no perfect discovery can be made upon a flat or a level : neither is it possible to discover the more remote and deeper parts of any science, if you stand but upon the level of the same science, and ascend not to a higher science. 6. Another error hath proceeded from too great a reverence, and a kind of adoration of the mind and understanding of man ; by means whereof, men have withdrawn themselves too much from the contemplation of nature, and the observations of experience, and have tumbled up and down in their own reason and conceits. Upon these intellectualists . which are notwithstanding commonly taken for the most sublime and divine philo- sophers, Heraclitus gave a just censure, saying, Men sought truth in their own little worlds, and not in the great and common world ; for they disdain to spell, and so by degrees to read in the volume of God's works : and contrariwise by continual meditation and agitation of wit do urge and as it were invocate their own spirits to divine and give oracles unto them, whereby they are deservedly deluded. 7. Another error that hath some connexion with this latter is, that men have used to infect their meditations, opinions, and doctrines, with some conceits which they have most admired, or some sciences which they have V. 7-] THE FIRST BOOK. 41 most applied ; and given all things else a tincture accord- ing to them, utterly untrue and unproper. So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy with theology, and Aristotle with logic ; and the second school of Plato, Proclus an d t he res t, with the mathematics. For these were the arts which had a kind of primogeniture with them severally. So have the alchemis ts made a philosophy out of a few experiments of the furnace ; and Gilbertus our country- y man hath made a philosophy out of the observations of a loadstone. So Cicero, when, reciting the several opinions of the nature of the soul, he found a musician that held the soul was but a harmony, saith pleasantly, Hie ab arte sua non reeessi/, &e. But of these conceits Aristotle speak - eth seriously and wisely when he saith, Qui respiciunt ad pauca de facili pronunciant. — v >w-"a-*--t-*-fl. 43 But this is that which will indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, if contemplation and action may be more nearly and straitly conjoined and united together than they have been ; a conjunction like unto that of the two highest planets, Saturn, the planet of rest and contemplation, and Jupiter, the planet of civil society and action. Howbeit, I do not mean, when I speak of use and action, that end before-mentioned of the applying of knowledge to lucre and profession ; for I am not ignorant how much that diverteth and intcrrupteth the prosecution and advancement of knowledge, like unto the golden ball thrown before Atalanta, which while she goeth aside and stoopeth to take up, the race is hindered, Dcclinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit. Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of Socrates, to call philosophy down from heaven to converse upon the earth ; that is, to leave natural philosophy aside, and to apply knowledge only to manners and policy. But as both heaven and earth do conspire and contribute to the use and benefit of man; so the end ought to be, from both philosophies to separate and reject vain speculations, and whatsoever is empty and void, and to preserve and augment whatsoever is solid and fruitful : that knowledge may not be as a courtesan, for pleasure and vanity only, or as a bond-woman, to acquire and gain to her master's use ; but as a spouse, for generation, fruit, and comfort. 12. Thus have I described and opened, as by a kind of dissection, those peccant humours (the principal of them) which have not only given impediment to the proflcience of learning, but have given also occasion to the traducement thereof: wherein if I have been too plain, it must be remembered, fidelia vulnera amantis, sed dolosa This I think I have gained, that I \*~b X - *- oscula malignanlis. ■■ fvj3 UiL~. j^^ 6 . ~ o- 4 rt L ' > r k 44 of raE iiz)r.4A'CE.irE-yr of learning, [v. 12. ought to be the better believed in that which I shall say pertaining to commendation ; because I have proceeded so freely in that which concerneth censure. And yet I have no purpose to enter into a laudative of learning, or to make a hymn to the Muses (though I am of opinion that it is long since their rites were duly celebrated), but my_jntent__is, without varnish or amplification justly to weigh the dignity of knowledge in the balance with other things, and to take the true value thereof by testimonies and arguments divine and human. VI. 1. First therefore let us seek the dignity of k now - ledge in the arch-type or first platform, which is in the attributes and acts of God, as far as they are revealed to man and may be observed with sobriety ; wherein we may not seek it by the name of learning ; for all learnin g is knowledge acquired, and all knowledge in God is original : and therefore we must look for it by another name, that of wis dom or sapienc e, as the scriptures call it. 2. It is so then, that in the work of the creation we see a d ouble em anation of virtue froin God ; the one referring more properly to power, the other to wisdom ; the one expressed in making the subsistence of the matter, and the other in disposing the beauty of the form. This being supposed, it is to be observed that for anything which appeareth in the history of the creation, the confused mass and matter of heaven and earth was made in a moment ; and the order and disposition of that chaos or mass was the work of six days ; such a note of difference it pleased God to put upon the works of power, and the works of wisdom; wherewith concurreth, that in the former it is not set down that God said, Let there be heaven and earth, as it is set down of the works following ; but actually, that God made heaven and earth : the one carrying the style VI. 2.] THE FIRST BOOK. 45 of a manufacture, and the other of a law, decree, or counsel. 3. To proceed to that which is next in order from God i> h~ ■*• t to spirits ; we find, as far as credit is to be given to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed Dionysius the senator of Athens, the first place or degree is given to the angels of love, which are termed seraphim ; the second to the angels of light, which are termed cherubim ; and the third, and so following places, to t hrones , p rincipalitie s, and the rest, which are all angels of power and ministry ; so as the angels of knowledge and illumination are placed before the angels of office and domination. 4. To descend from spirits and intellectual forms to L - c V^ r V^ sensible and m aterial form s, we read the first form that was created was light, which hath a relation and cor- respondence in nature and corporal things to knowledge in spirits and incorporal things. 5. So in the distribution of days we see the day SojJ^xt. *& — — ■ — - J wherein God did rest and contemplate his own works. "~3 ' was blessed above all the days wherein he did effect and accomplish them. * 6. After the creation was finished, it is set down unto **-**-» ^l~x* as that man was placed in the garden to work therein; vafiuw>.~~ which work, so appointed to him, could be no other than w ork of con templation ; that is, when the end of work is but for exercise and experiment, not for necessity ; for there being then no reluctation of the creature, nor sweat of the brow, man's employment must of consequence have been matter of delight in the experiment, and not matter of labour for the use. Again, the first acts which A^iv <^Tj man performed in Paradise consisted of the two smnmary parts of knowledge; the view of creatures, and the im- position of names. As for the knowledge which induced 46 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Vf.6. the fall , it was, as was touched before, not the natural knowledge of creatures, but the moral knowledge of good and evil; wherein the supposition was, that God's com- mandments or prohibitions were not the originals of good and evil, but that they had other beginnings, which man aspired to know ; to the end to make a total defection from God and to depend wholly upon himself. 7. To pass on : in the first event or occurrence after the fall of man, we see (as t he scriptures have infinit e mysteries , not violating at all the truth of the story or letter) an image of the two estates, the contemplati ve state and the active state, figured in the two persons of Abel and Cain, and in the two simplest and most primitive trades of life ; that of the shepherd (who, by reason of his leisure, rest; in a place, and living in view of heaven, is a lively image of a contemplative life), and that of the husbandman : where we see again the favour and election of God went to the shepherd, and not to the tiller of the ground. 8. So in the age before the flood , the holy records within those few memorials which are there entered and registered, have vouchsafed to mention and honour the name of the inventors and authors of music andj yprks in metal. In the age after the flood , the first great judge- ment of God upon the ambition of man was the confu- sion of tongues ; whereby the open trade and intercourse of learning and knowledge was chiefly imbarred. 9. To descend to Moyses the lawgiver, and God's first pen : he is adorned by the scriptures with this addition and commendation, That he was seen in all the learning of the Egyptians ; which nation we know was one of the most ancient schools of the world : for so Plato brings in the Egyptian priest saying unto Solon, You Grecians are VI. 9 .] THE FIRST BOOK. 47 ever children ; you have no knowledge of antiquity, nor antiquity of knowledge. Take a view of the ceremonial law of Moyses ; you shall find, besides the prefigurati on of Christ, the badge or difference of the people of God, the exercise and impression of obedience, and other divine uses and fruits thereof, that some of the most learned Rabbins have travailed profitably and profoundly to observe, some of them a natural, some of them a moral, sense or reduction* of many of the ceremonies and or- dinances. As in the law of the leprosy, where it is said. If the whiteness have overspread the flesh, the patient may pass abroad for clean ; but if there be any whole flesh remaining, he is to be shut up for unclean ; one of them noteth a principle of nature, that putrefaction is more contagious before maturity than after : and another noteth a position of moral philosophy, that men abandoned to vice do not so much corrupt manners, as those that are half good and half evil. So in this and very many other places in that law, there is to be found, besides the theo- logical sense, much aspersion of philosophy. 10. So likewise in that excellent book o f Job , if it be revolved with diligence, it will be found pregnant and swelling with natural philosophy ; as for example, cos- mography, and the roundness of the world, Qui extendit aquilonem super vacuum, et appendit terrain super nihilum ; wherein the pensilenes s of the eart h, the pole of the north, and the finiteness ox_ convexity of heaven are manifestly touched. So again, matter of astronomy; Spiritus ejus ornavil ccelos, et obsteiricante manu ejus cductus est Coluber tortuosus. And in another place, Nunquid conjungere vale bis mic antes Stellas Pleiadas, aut gyrum Arcturi po ten's dissipare r Where the fixing of the stars, ever standing at equal distance, is with great elegancy noted. And in t <%* 48 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [vi. 10. another place, Qui facit Ar durum, et Oriona, et Hyadas, et interior a Austri ; where again he takes knowledge of the depression of the southern pole, calling it the secrets of the south, because the southern stars were in that climate unseen. Matter of generation ; Annon sicut lac mulsisli me, et sicut caseum coagulasii me ? &c. Matter of minerals ; Habet argentum venarum suarum principia : et auro locus est in quo conflalur,ferrum de terra tolli/ur, el lapis solutus calore in ces vertitur : and so forwards in that chapter.' ^- ? 11. So likewise in the person of Salomon the king , we see the gift or endowment of wisdom and learning, both in Salomon's petition and in God's assent thereunto, preferred before all other terrene and temporal felicity. By virtue of which grant or donative of God Salomon became enabled not only to write those excellent parables or aphorisms concerning divine and moral philosophy ; but also to compile a natural history of all verdure, from the cedar upon the mountain to the moss upon the wall (which is but a r udiment between putrefaction and an herb), and also of all things that breathe or move. Nay, the same Salomon the king, although he excelled in the glory of treasure and magnificent buildings, of shipping and navigation, of service and attendance, of fame and renown, and the like, yet he maketh no claim to any of those glories, but only to the glory of inquisition of truth ; for so he saith expressly, $ The glory of God is to conceal a thing, but the glory of the king is to find it out ; as if, accord- ing to the in nocent p lay of children, the Divine Majesty took delight to hide his works, to the end to have them found out ; and as if kings could not obtain a greater honour than to be God's playfellows in that game ; con- sidering the great commandment of wits and means, whereby nothing needeth to be hidden from them. 4 l^y^P (5 &*v * '^-*-t rx^t>-b ' tjS.i- VI. 12.] THE FIRST BOOK. 49 12. Neither did the dispensation of God vary in the times after our Saviour came into the world ; for our Saviour himself did first show his power to subdue ignorance, by his conference with the priests and doctors of the law, before he showed his power to subdue nature by his miracles. And the coming of the Holy Spirit was chiefly figured and expressed in the similitude and gift of tongues, which are but vehicula scientice. *c& •>-•' 13. So in the election of those instruments, which it pleased God to use for the plantation of the faith, not- withstanding that at the first he did employ persons altogether unlearned, otherwise than by inspiration, more evidently to declare his immediate working, and to abase all human wisdom or knowledge; yet nevertheless that counsel of his was no sooner performed, but in the next vicissitude and succession he did send his divine truth into the world, waited on with other learnings, as with servants or handmaids : for so we see Saint Paul, who wa s only learned amongst the Apostles, had his p en most used in the scriptures of the New Testament. 14. So again we find that many of the a ncient bishops and fathers_ of the Church were excellently read and studied in all the learning of the heathen ; insomuch that the edict of the Emperor Julianus* (whereby it was interdicted unto Christians to be admitted into schools, lectures, or exercises of learning) was esteemed and ac- counted a more pernicious engine and machination against the Christian Faith, than were all the sanguinary prosecutions of his predecessors ; neither could the emulation and jealousy of Gre gory the first of that name, ivo-t^ bishop of Rome, ever obtain the opinion of piety or de- votion ; but contrariwise received the censure of humour, malignity and pusillanimity, even amongst holy men ; in E (^^o^^- Q^jt&Zj^o to j_^_*r»^»-o 50 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VI. 14. 1C ■«-*>-/Co that he designed to obliterate and extinguish the memory of heathen antiquity and authors. But contrariwise it was the Christian church, which, amidst the inundations of the Scythians on the one side from the north-west, and the Saracens from the east, did preserve in the sacred lap and bosom thereof the precious relics even of heathen learn- ing, which otherwise had been extinguished as if no such thing hadever been. i5.[And we see before our eyes, that in the age ot ourselves and our fathers, when it pleased God to call the Church of Rome to account for their degenerate manners and ceremonies, and sundry doctrines obnoxious and framed to uphold the same abuses ; at one and the same time it was ordained by the Divine Providence, that there should attend withal a renovation and new spring of all other knowledges.]* And, on the other side we see the Jesuits, who partly in themselves and partly by the emulation and provocation^^ their example, have much quickened and strengthened the state of learning, we see (I say) what notable service and reparation they have done to the Roman see. 1 6. Wherefore to conclude this part, let it be observed, that there be two principal duties and services, besides ornament and illustration, which philosophy and human learning do perform to faith and religion. The one, because they are an effectual inducement to the exalt- ation of the glory of God. For as the Psalms and other scriptures do often invite us to consider and magnify the great and wonderful works of God, so if we should rest only in the contemplation of the exterior of them as they first offer themselves to our senses, we should do a like injury unto the majesty of God, as if we should judge or construe of the store of some excellent jeweller, by Q : Q^7 $. g-£ls^ *r€LL+ V-v. *^9 t^-V. ^*~CS VI. i 6.] THE FIRST BOOK. 5* i-T-.«l that only which is set out toward the street in his shop. The othe r, because they minister a singular help and preservative against unbelief and error. For our Saviour saith, You err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God ; laying before us t wo books or volumes to study, if we will be secured from error; first the scjiptures, revealing the will of God, and then the creatures ex- pressing his power ; whereof the jatter i s a key u nto the former : not only opening our understanding to conceive the true sense of the scriptures, by the general notions of reason and rules of speech ; but chiefly opening our belief, in drawing us into a due meditation of the omni- potency of God, which is chiefly signed and engraven upon his works. Thus much therefore for divine testi- mony and evidence concerning the true dignity and value of learning. VII. 1. As for hum an proofs , it is so large a field, as in a discourse of this nature and brevity it is fit rather to use choice of those things which we shall produce, than to embrace the variety of them. First therefore, in the degrees of human honour amongst the heathen, it was the highest to obtain to a veneration and adoration as a God. This unto the Christians is as the forbidden fruit. But we speak now separately of human testimony: ac- cording to which, that which the Grecians call apotheosis, and the Latins relatio inter divos , was the supreme honour which man could attribute unto man: specially when it was given, not by a formal decree or act of state, as it was used among the Roman Emperors, but by an inward assent and belief. Which honour, being so high, had also a de gree or middle term: for there were reckoned above human honour s, honours heroica l and divine : in the attribution and distribution of which honours we see £ 2 1- t^tyuL^rm. rK-^Vv-vC^w^ I \ A,? 52 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 1. antiquity made this difference : that whereas founders and uniters of states and cities, lawgivers, extirpers of tyrants, fathers of the people, and other eminent persons in civil merit, were honoured but with the titles of worthies or demi-gods ; such as were Hercules, Theseus, Minos, Romulus, and the like : on the other side, such as were inventors and authors of_ne w arts, en dowments, and commodities towards man's life , were ever consecrated amongst the gods themselves; as was Ceres, Bacchus, Mercurius, Apollo, and others ; and justly ; for the merit of the former is confined within the circle of an age or a nation ; and is like fruitful showers, which though they be profitable and good, yet serve but for that season, and for a latitude of ground where they fall ; but the other is indeed like the benefits of heaven, which are permanent and universal. The former again is mixed with strife and perturbation ; but the latter hath the true character of Divine Presence, coming in aura km, without noise or agitation. 2. Neither is certainly that other merit of learnin g, in re- pressing the inconveniences which grow from man to man, much inferior to the former, of relieving the necessities which arise from nature ; which merit was lively set forth by the ancients in that feigned relation of Orpheus' theatre, where all beasts and birds assembled ; and forgetting their several appetites, some of prey, some of game, some of quarrel, stood all sociably together listening unto the airs and accords of the harp; the sound whereof no sooner ceased, or was drowned by some louder noise, but every beast returned to his own nature: wherein is aptly de- JU-u**-, j scribed the nature jmd_ condition of men, who are full of savage and unreclaimed desires, of profit, of lust, of re- venge ; which as long as they give ear to precepts, to jaws, t. fr-_a-v*«g Jv-a-^(U-v^. , VII. 2.] THE FIRST BOOK. 53 I to religion, sweetly touched with eloquence and persuasion / of books, of sermons, of harangues, so long is society and peace maintained ; but if these instruments be silent, or that sedition and tumult make them not audible, all things dissolve into anarchy and confusion. 3. But this appeareth more manifestly, when kings themselv es, or persons of authority under them , or other governors in commonwealths and popular estates, are en- dued with learning. For although he might be thought partial to his own profession, that said Then should people and estates be happy, when either Icings ivere philosophers, or philosophers kings ; yet so much is verified by experience, that under learned princes and governors there have been ever the best times : for howsoever kings may have their imperfections in their passions and customs; yet if they be illuminate by learning, they have those notions of religion, policy, and morality, which do preserve them and refrain them from all ruinous and peremptory errors and ex- cesses; whispering evermore in their ears, when coun- sellors and servants stand mute and silent. And senators or counsellors l ikewise, which be learned, do proceed upon more safe and substantial principles, than counsellors which are only men of experience : the one sort keeping dangers afar off, whereas the other discover them not till they come near hand, and then trust to the agility of their wit to ward or avoid them. 4. Which felicity of times under learned princes (to keep still the law of brevity, by using the most eminent and selected examples ) doth best appear in the age which passed from the death of Domitianus the emperor until the reign of Commodus; comprehending a succession of six princes, all learned, or singular favourers and advancers of learning, which age for temporal respects was the most 4,.. 3 • th f*A»» 54 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 4. happy and flourishing that ever the Roman empire (which then was a model of the world) enjoyed; a matter revealed and prefigured unto Domitian in a dream the night before he was slain ; for he thought there was grown behind upon his shoulders a neck and a head of gold: which came accordingly to pass in those golden times which succeeded : of which princes we will make some com- memoration ; wherein although the matter will be vulgar, and may be thought fitter for a decla matio n than agreeable ' to a treatise infolded as this is, yet because it is pertinent to the point in hand, Neque semper arcum tendit Apollo, thr ^-^- and to name them only were too naked and cursory, I will not omit it altogether. The first was Nerva ; the excellent temper of whose government is by a glance in Cornelius Tacitus touched to the life : Postquam divus Nerva res olim insociabiles miscuissc/, imperium et liber /a/em. And in token of his learning, the last act of his short reign left to memory was a missive to his adopted son Trajan, pro- ceeding upon some inward discontent at the ingratitude of the times, comprehended in a verse of Homer's : Telis, Phoebe, tuis lacrymas ulciscere nostras. 5. Trajan , who succeeded, was for his person not learned: but if we will hearken to the speech of our Saviour, that saith, He /ha/ recetieth a prophe/ in /he name of a prophe/ shall have a prophe/' s reward, he deserveth to be placed amongst the most learned princes : for there was not a greater admirer of learning or benefactor of learning ; a founder of famous libraries, a perpetual ad- vancer of learned men to office, and a familiar converser with learned professors and preceptors, who were noted to have then most credit in court. On the other side, how much Trajan's virtue and government was admired and renowned, surely no testimony of grave and faithful ^-a_* VIT. 5.] THE FIRST BOOK. 55 history doth more lively set forth, than that legend tale * of Gregorius Magnus, bishop of Rome, who was noted ^W^ % "\^ for the extreme envy he bare towards all heathen excel- lency : and yet he is reported, out of the love and estim- ation pf Trajan's moral virtues, to have made unto God passionate and fervent prayers for the delivery of his soul out of hell : and to have obtained it, with a caveat that he should make no more such petitions. In this prince's time also the persecutions against the Christians received intermission, upon the c ertificate of Plinius Secundus, a man of excellent learning and by Trajan advanced. 6. Adrian, his successor, was the most_c urious man tiAckv^icw- that lived, and the most universal inquirer ; insomuch as it was noted for an error in his mind, that he desired to L L i [xr ^^) comprehend all things, and not to reserve himself for the worthiest things : falling into the like humour that was long before noted in Philip of Macedon ; who, when he would needs over-rule and put down an excellent musician in an argument touching music, was well answered by him again, God forbid, sir (saith he), that your fortune should be so bad, as to know these things better than I. It pleased God likewise to use the curiosity of this em- peror as an inducement to the peace of his Church in those days. For having Christ in veneration, not as a A-o X«'»^Lq God or Saviour but as a wonder or novelty, and having his picture in his gallery, matched with Apollonius (with whom in his vain imagination he thought he had some conformity), yet it served the turn to allay the bitter hatred of those times against the Christian name, so as the Church had peace during his time. And for his government civil , although he did not attain to that of Trajan^ in glory of arms or perfection of justice, yet in deserving of the weal of the subject he did exceed l^rt 56 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [vil. 6. him. For Trajan erected many famous monuments and buildings ; insomuch as Constantine the Great in emul- ation was wont to call him Pane/aria, wall-flower, because his name was upon so many walls : but his buildings and works were more of glory and triumph than use and necessity. But Adrian spent his whole reign, which was peaceable, in a perambulation or surve y of the Roman empire; giving order and making ^assignation where he went, for re-edifying of cities, towns, and forts decayed; and for cutting of rivers and streams, and for making bridges and passages, and for policing of cities and com- monalties with new ordinances and constitutions, and granting new franchises and incorporations ; so that his whole time was a very restoration of all the lapses and decays of former times, o 7. Antoninus Pius , who succeeded him, was a prince excellently learned, and had the p atient and subtle wit of a schoolman ; insomuch as in common speech (which leaves no virtue untaxed) he was called Cymini Sector* & carver or a divider of cummin seed, which is one of the least seeds; such a patience he had and settled spirit, to enter into the least and most exact differences of causes ; a fruit no doubt of the exceeding tranquillity and serenity of his mind; which being no ways charged or incumbered, either with fears, remorses, or scruples, but having been noted for a man of the purest goodness, without all fiction or affectation, that hath reigned or lived, made his mind continually present and entire. He likewise approached a degree nearer unto Christianity, and became, as Agrippa said unto S. Paul, half a Christian ; holding their religion and law in good opinion, and not only ceasing persecution, but giving way to the advancement of Christians. VII. 8.] THE FIRST BOOK. 57 8. There succeeded him the first Divi fratre s, the two Vt^^ * adoptive brethren, Lucius Commodus Verus, son to zElius M r Verus, who delighted much in the softer kind of learning, and was wont to call the poet Martial his Virgil ; and Marcus Aurelius Antoninus ; whereof the latter, who ob- scured his colleague and survived him long, was named the Philosopher : who, as he excelled all the rest in learning, so he excelled them likewise in perfection of all royal virtues ; insomuch as Julianus the emperor, in his book intituled C&sares, being as a pasquil or satire to deride all his predecessors, feigned that they were all invited to a banquet of the gods, and Silenus the jester sat at the nether end of the table, and bestowed a scoff on every one as they came in ; but when Marcus Philo- sophus came in, Silenus was gravelled and out of coun- tenance, not knowing where to carp at him ; save at the last he gave a glance at his patience towards his wife . rV^k^o, And the virtue of this prince, continued with that of his predecessor, made the name of Antoninus so sacred in the world, that though it were extremely dishonoured in Commodus, Caracalla, and Heliogabalus, who all bare ■\5 che name, yet when Alexander Severus refused the name because he was a stranger to the family, the senate with one acclamation said, Quomodo Augustus, sic et Antoninus. In such renown and veneration was the name of these two princes in those days, that they would have had it as a perpetual addition in all the emperors' style. In this emperor's time also the Church for the most part was in peace ; so as in this sequence of six princes we do see the blessed effects of learning in sovereignty, painted forth in the greatest table of the world. L-a*. [_9. But for a tablet or picture of smaller volume (not £joL-t.o^i£_ presuming to speak of your Majesty that liveth), in my 58 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. |_VII. 9. judgement the most excellent is that of Queen Elizabeth, N3 -> your immediate predecessor in t his part of Britain; a prince that, if Plutarch were now alive to write lives by paral- lels, would trouble him I think to find for her a parallel amongst women. This lady was endued with learning in her sex singular, and rare even amongst masculine princes; whether we speak of learning, of language, or of science, modern or ancient, divinity or humanity : and unto the very last year of her life she accustomed to ap- point set hours for reading, scarcely any young student in an university more daily or more duly. As for her t government, I assure myself, I shall not exceed, if I do affirm that this part of the island never had forty-five years of better times ; and yet not through the calmness of the season, but through the wisdom of her regiment. For if there be considered of the one side, the truth of religion established, the constant peace and security, the good administration of justice, the temperate use of t he preroga tive, not slackened, nor much strained, the flourishing state of learning, sortable to so excellent a 1 patroness, the convenient estat e of wealth and means, both of crown and subject, the habit of obedience, and the moderation of discontents ; and there be considered on the other side the differences of religion, the troubles of neighbour countries, the ambition of Spain, and op- position of Rome ; and then that she was solitary and of herself: these things I say considered, as I could not have chosen an instance so recent and so proper, so I suppose I could not have chosen one more remarkable I or eminent to the purpose now in hand , which is con- cerning the conjunction of learning in the prince with I felicity in the people.J 10. Neither hath learning an influence and operation VII. ,c] THE FIRST BOOK. 59 only upon civil merit and moral virtue, and the arts or temperature of peace and peaceable government ; but likewise it hath no less power and efficacy in enablement towards martial and military virtue and prowess ; as may be notably represented in the examples of Alexander the Great and Caesar the dictator, mentioned before, but now in fit place to be resumed : of whose virtues and acts in war there needs no note or recital, having been the wonders of time in that kind : but of their affections towards learning, and perfections in learning, it is per- tinent to say somewhat. n. Alexande r was bred and taught under Aristotle CuU^. the great philosopher, who dedicated divers of his books of philosophy unto him : he was attended with Callis- thenes and divers other learned persons, that followed him in camp, throughout his journeys and conquests. What price and e stimation he had learning in doth not- ably appear in these three particulars : first, in the envy he used to express that he bare towards Achilles, in this, that he had so good a trumpet of his praises as Homer's verses : s econdl y, in the judgement or solution he gave touching that precious cabinet of Darius, which was found among his jewels ; whereof question was made what thing was worthy to be put into it ; and he gave his opinion for Homer's works : thirdly , in his letter to Aristotle, after he had set forth his books of nature, wherein he expostul- ateth with him for publishing the secrets or mysteries of philosophy; and gave him to understand that himself esteemed it more to excel other men in learning and knowledge than in power and empire. And what use i^ he had of le arning doth appear, or rather shine, in all his speeches and answers, being full of science and use of science, and that in all variety. a^-dU/u 6">v\ 60 7. OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII, 12. • 1 2. [And herein again it may seem a thing scholastical, and somewhat idle, to recite things that every man know- eth ; but yet, since the argument I handle leadeth me thereunto, I am glad that men shall perceive I am as willing to flatter (if they will so call it) an Alexander, or a Caesar, or an Antoninus, that are dead many hundred years since, as any that now liveth : for it is the display- ing of the glory of learning in sovereignty that I pro- pound to myself, and not an humour of declaiming in any man's praises.] Observe then the speech he^ used of Diogenes, and see if it tend not to the true state of one of the greatest questions of moral philosophy ; whether the enjoying of outward things, or the contemning of them, be the greatest happiness : for when he saw Diogenes so perfectly contented with so little, he said to those that mocked at his condition, Were I not Alexander, I would wish lo he Diogenes. But Seneca inverteth it, and saith ; Plus eral, quod hie nolle i accipere, quam quod ille posset dare. There were more things which Diogenes would have refused, than those were which Alexander could have given or enjoyed. 13. Observe again that speech which was usual with him, That he felt his mortality chiefly in two things, sleep and lust ; and see if it were not a speech extracted out of the depth of natural philosoph y, and liker to have comen out of the mouth of Aristotle or Democritus, than from Alexander. 14. See again that speech of_ hu manity and_ poesy ; when upon the bleeding of his wounds, he called unto him one of his flatterers, that was wont to ascribe to him divine honour, and said, Look, this is very blood ; this is not such a liquor as Homer speaketh of, ivhich ran from Venus hand, when it zvas pierced by Diomedes. VII. is-] THE FIRST BOOK. 6l 15. See likewise his readiness in r eprehension of logic , ^-^^~j in the speech he used to Cassander, upon a complaint that was made against his father Antipater : for when Alexander happed to say, Do you think these men would have come from so far to complain, except they had just cause of grief V and Cassander answered, Yea, that was the matter , because they thought they should not be disproved ; said Alexander laughing: See the sublillies of Aristotle, to take a matter both ways, pro el contra, &c. * 16. But note again how well he could use the same •$ uju^a-C^ ^ art, which he reprehended, to serve his own humour: ~^* ^ when bearing a secret grudge to Callisthenes, because he was against the new ceremony of his adoration, feast- ing one night where the same Callisthenes was at the table, it was moved by some after supper, for entertain- ment sake, that Callisthenes, who was an eloquent man, might speak of some theme or purpose at his own choice ; which Callisthenes did ; choosing the praise of the Macedonian nation for his discourse, and performino- the same with so good manner as the hearers were much ravished : whereupon Alexander, nothing pleased, said, // was easy to be eloquent upon so good a subject : but saith he, Turn your style , and let us hear what you can say [ U£**i s. tf . ^ u, against us: which Callisthenes presently undertook, and did with that sting and life, that Alexander interrupted him and said, The goodness of the cause made him eloquent before, and despite made him eloquent then again. 17. Consider further, for tropes of rhetoric, that ex- Uao.^ r^j^L cellent use of a metaphor or translation , wherewith he ^ ***•._, taxed Antipater, who was an imperious and tyrannous governor : for when one of Antipater's friends com- mended him to Alexander for his moderation, that he did not degenerate, as his other lieutenants did, into the 62 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 17. Persian pride, in use of purple, but kept the ancient habit of Macedon, of black ; True (saith Alexander), but Anti- pater is all purple within. Or that other , when Parmenio came to him in the plain of Arbela, and showed him the innumerable multitude of his enemies, specially as they appeared by the infinite number of lights, as it had been a new firmament of stars, and thereupon advised him to assail them by night : whereupon he answered, That he would not steal the victory. 18. For matter of policy , weigh that significant dis- tinction, so much in all ages embraced, that he made between his two friends Hephaestion and Craterus, when he said, That the one loved Alexander ', and the other loved the king : describing the principal difference of princes' best servants, that some in affection love their person, and other in duty love their crown. 19. Weigh also that excellent t axation of an error, ordinary with counsellors of princes, that they counsel their masters according to the model of their own mind and fortune, and not of their masters' ; when upon Darius' great offers Parmenio had said/ Surely I would accept these offers, were I as Alexander ; saith Alexander, So would I were I as Parmenio. 20. Lastly, weigh that quick and acute reply, which he made when he gave so large gifts to his friends and servants, and was asked what he did reserve for himself, (w-^Tw.j^ and he answered, Hop e^: weigh, I say, whether he had not cast up his account aright, because hope must be the portion of all that resolve upon great enterprises. For this was Caesar's portion when he went first into Gaul, his estate being then utterly overthrown with largesses. And this was likewise the portion of that noble prince, howsoever transported with ambition, Henry Duke of VII. 20.] THE FIRST BOOK. 63 Guise, of whom it was usually said, that he was the greatest usurer in France, because he had turned all his estate into obligations. 2 1./ To conclude therefore: as certain critics are used to say hyperbolically, Thai if all sciences were lost they ^ might be found in Virgil, so certainly this may be said truly, there are the prints and footsteps of learning in those few speeches which are reported of this prince .j the admiration of whom, when I consider him not as/ Alexander the Great, but as Aristotle's scholar, hath carried me too far. 22. As fo r Julius Caesar , the excellency of his learning oJvJUw, Coju needeth not to be argued from his education , or his company , or his speeches ; but in a further degree doth declare itself in his writings and works ; whereof some W-vxU^ are extant and permanent, and some unfortunately perished. For first, we see there is left unto us that excellent history of his own wars, which he intituled only a Commentary , wherein all succeeding times have admired the solid weight of matter, and the real passages and l ively images of actions and persons, expressed in the greatest propriety of words and perspicuity of narration that ever was; which that it was not the effect of a natural gift, but of learning and precept, is well witnessed by that work of his intituled De Analogia , being a gram- matical philos ophy, wherein he did labour to make this same Vox ad placitum to become Vox ad licitum, and to reduce custom of speech to congruity of speech; and took as it were the pictures of words from the iife_of_ reason . * (HJp' 3°; 23. So we receive from him, as a monument both of his power and learning, the then reformed computation CcJj— j^ of the y ear; well expressing that he took it to be as r ^ir^ — * Oj (a* 64 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 23. great a glory to himself to observe and know the law of the heavens, as to give law to men upon the earth. wK-CoJ"« 24. So likewise in that book of his, Anti-Cat o, it may easily appear that he did aspire as well to victory of wit as victory of war: undertaking therein a conflict against the greatest champion with the pen that then lived, Cicero the orator. >•W^.ti^w>x / o 2 5* ^° a £ am m ms D0 °k of Apophthegms which he collected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy words of others, than to have every word of his own to be made an apophthegm or an oracle ; as vain princes, by custom of flattery, pretend to do. And yet if I should enumerate divers of his speeches, as I did those of Alexander, they are truly such as Salomon noteth, when he saith, Verba sapienium ianquam acuki, et tanquam clavi in altum defixi: whereof I will only recite three, not so de- lectable for elegancy, but admirable for vigour and efficacy. ^ WlU 26. As first, it is reason he be thought a master of r words; that could with one word appease a mutiny in his army, which was thus. The Romans, when their generals did speak to their army, did use the word Miiiles, but when the magistrates spake to the people, they -did use the word Quirites. The soldiers were in tumult, and seditiously prayed to be cashiered; not that they so meant, but by expostulation thereof to draw Caesar to other conditions; wherein he being resolute not to give way, after some silence, he began his speech, Ego Quirites ■, which did admit them already cashiered ; wherewith they were so surprised, crossed, and confused, as they would not suffer him to go on in his speech, but relinquished their demands, and made it their suit to be again called by the name of Millies. VII. 27.] THE FIRST BOOK. 65 27. The second speech was thus : Caesar did extremely I affect the name of king; and some were set on as he passed by, in popular acclamation to salute him king. Whereupon, finding the cry weak and poor, he put it off thus, in a kind of jest, as if they had mistaken his sur- name ; Non Rex sum, sed Ccesar ; a speech, that if it be searched, the life and fulness of it can scarce be ex- pressed. For, first, it was a refusal of the name, but yet not serious : again, it did signify an infinite confidence and magnanimity, as if he presumed Caesar was the greater title; as by his worthiness it is come to pass yi^, iq (& ( till this day. But chiefly it was a speech of great allure- ment toward his own purpose ; as if the state did strive with him but for a name, whereof mean families were vested ; for Rex was a surname with the Romans, as well as King is with us. 28. The last speech which I will mention was used to tit Metellus : when Caesar, after war declared, did possess himself of the city of Rome ; at which time entering into the inner treasury to take the money there accumulate, Metellus being tribune forbade him. Whereto Caesar said, That if he did not desist, he would lay him dead in the place. And presently taking himself up, he added, J Young man, it is harder for me to speak it than to do it ; Adolescens, durius est mihi hoc dicer e quam facer e. A speech compounded of the greatest terror and greatest clemency that could proceed out of the mouth of man. 29. But to return and conclude with him, it is evident hi mself knew well his own perfection in learning and took it upon him ; as appeared when, upon occasion that some spake what a strange resolution it was in Lucius Sylla to resign his dictature; he scoffing at him, to his F 66 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII, 29. own advantage, answered, That Sylla could not skill of letters, and therefore knew not how to dictate. 30. And here it were fit to leave this point , to uchin g thec oncurrence of military virtue and learning (for what example should come with any grace after those two of Alexander and Caesar?), were it not in regard of the rare- ness of circumstance, that I find in one other particular, as that which did so suddenly pass from extreme scorn to extreme wonder : and it is of Xenophon the philosopher, who went from Socrates' school into Asia, in the expedition 8i.\f>\ of Cyrus the younger against King Artaxerxes. This Xenophon at that time was very young, and never had seen the wars before ; neither had any command in the army, but only followed the war as a voluntary, for the love and conversation of Proxenus his friend. He was present when Falinus came in message from the great king to the Grecians, after that Cyrus was slain in the field, and they a handful of men left to themselves in the midst of the king's territories, cut off from their country by many navigable rivers, and many hundred miles. The message imported that they should deliver up their arms and submit themselves to the king's mercy. To which message before answer was made, divers of the army conferred familiarly with Falinus; and amongst the rest Xenophon happened to say, Why, Falinus, we have now but these two things left, our arms and our virtue ; and if we yield up our arms, how shall we make use of our virtue ? Whereto Falinus smiling on him said, If I be not deceived, you7ig gentleman, you are an Athenian : and I believe you study philosophy, and it is pretty that you say : but you are much abused, if you think your virtue can withstand the king's power. Here was the scorn ; the wonder followed : which was, that this young scholar, or philosopher, after vn. 30.] THE FIRST ROOK. 6 7 ,W T all the captains were murdered in parley by treason, con- ducted those ten thousand loot, through the heart of all the king's high countries, from Babylon to Grecia in safety, in despite of all the king's forces, to the astonish- ment of the world, and the encouragement of the Grecians in times succeeding to make invasion upon the kin°-s of Persia; as was after purposed by Jason r the Thessalian, attempted by Ageiilaus the Spartan, and achieved by Alexand er the Macedonian, all upon the ground of the act of that young scholar. VIII. 1. To proceed now from imperial and military virtue to moral and priv ate virtuej first, it is an assured truth, which is contained in the verses, Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros. rVwj.Lfa. It taketh away the wildness and barbarism and fierceness of men's minds ; but indeed the accent had need be upon fideliter : for a little superficial learning doth rather work a contrary effect. It taketh away all levity, temerity, and insolency, by copious suggestion of all doubts and diffi- culties, and acquainting the mind to balance reasons on both sides, and to turn back the first offers and conceits of the mind, and to accept of nothing but examined and Jried. It taketh away vain admiration of anything, which is the root of all weakness. For all things are admired either because they are new, or because they are great. For novelty, no man that wadeth in learning or con- templation throughly, but will find that printed in his heart, Nil novi super terrain. Neither can any man marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth behind the curtain, and adviseth well of the motion. And for mag- nitude, as Alexander the Great, after that he was used to great armies, and the great conquests of the spacious KlcuU,, F 2 La ^-kAyvJ^cJtx/^ 68 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VIII. i. provinces in Asia, when he received letters out of Greece, of some fights and * se rvice s there, which were commonly for a passage, or a fort, or some walled town at the most, he said, It seemed to him, thai he was advertised of the laities of the frogs and the mice, that the old tales went of So certainly, if a man meditate much upon the universal frame of nature, the earth with men upon it (the divine- ness of souls except) will not seem much other than an ant-hill, whereas some ants carry corn, and some carry their young, and some go empty, and all to and fro a little heap of dust. It taketh away or mitigateth fear of death or adverse fortune ; which is one of the greatest impedi- ments of virtue, and imperfections of manners. For if a man's mind be deeply seasoned with the consideration of the mortality and corruptible nature of things, he will easily concur with Epict etus, who went forth one day and saw a woman weeping for her pitcher of earth that was broken, and went forth the next day and saw a woman weeping for her son that was dead, and thereupon said, Heri vidi fragilem frangi, hodie vidi mortalem mori. And therefore Virgil did excellently and profoundly couple the knowledge of causes and the conquest of all fears together, as conconiifaniia. Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, Quique metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari. Qjur^a . 2. It were too long to go over the particu lar remedies t, which learning doth minister to all the diseases of the mind ; sometimes purging the ill humours, sometimes opening the obstructions, sometimes helping digestion, sometimes increasing appetite, sometimes healing the wounds and exulcerations thereof, and the like ; and therefore I will conclude with that which hath raiionem ^PjA, uvj-^-A^j CL-. S^ 7 "" "*^ t"* C «aJM_A_& .Q. VIII 1 THE FIRST BOOK. ■* "* 6 9 iolius ; which is, that it disposeth the constitution of the mind not to be fixed or settled in the defects thereof, but still to be capable and susceptible of growth and reform- ation. For the unlearned man knows not what it is to descend into himself, or to call himself to account, nor the pleasure of that suavissima vita, indies sen/ire se fieri meliorem. The good parts he hath he will learn to show to the full, and use them dexterously, but not much to increase them. The faults he hath he will learn how. to hide and colour them, but not much to amend them ; like an ill mower, that mows on still, and never whets his scythe. Whereas with the learned man it fares otherwise, that he doth ever intermix the correction and amend- ment of his mind with the use and employment thereof. Nay further, in general and in sum, certain it is that Veritas and Bonitas differ but as the seal and the print : for Truth prints Goodness, and the£ be the clouds of error which descend in the storms of passions and per- turbations. 3. From moral virtue let us pass on to matter of power and commandment, and consider whether in right reason there be any comparable with that wherewith know- ledge investeth and crowneth man's nature. We see the dignity of the c ommandmen t is according to the dignity of the commanded : to have commandment over beasts, as herdmen have, is a thing contemptible : to have com- mandment over children, as schoolmasters have, is a matter of small honour: to have commandment over galley-slaves is a disparagement rather than an honour. Neither is the commandment of tyrants much better, over people which have put off the generosity of their minds : and therefore it was ever holden that honours in free monarchies and commonwealths had a sweetness more 70 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VITI. 3. r6^»-tMA~c*~^" than in tyrannies, because the commandment extendeth more over the wills of men, and not only over their deeds and services. And therefore, when Virgil putteth himself forth to attribute to Augustus" Ccesar the best of human honours, he doth it in these words : Victorque volentes Per populos dat jura, viamque affectat Olynipo. V7 • But yet the commandment of knowledge is yet higher than the commandment over the will : for it is a com- mandment over the reason, belief, and understanding of man, which is the highest part of the mind, and giveth law to the will itself. For there is no power on earth which setteth up a throne or chair of estate in the spirits and souls of men, and in their cogitations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but knowledge and learning. And therefore we see the detestable and extreme pleasure that arch-heretics, and false prophets, and impostors are trans- ported with, when they once find in themselves that they have a superiority in the faith and conscience of men ; so great as if they have once tasted of it, it is seldom seen that any torture or persecution can make them relinquish or abandon it. But as this is that which the author of the Revelation calleth the depth or profoundness of Satan, so by argument of contraries, the just and lawful sove- reignty over men's understanding, by force of truth rightly interpreted, is that which approacheth nearest to the simil- itude of the divine rule. 4. As for fortune and advancement , the beneficence of learning is not so confined to give fortune only to states and commonwealths, as it doth not likewise give fortune to particular persons. For it was well noted long ago, that Homer hath given more men their livings, than either Sylla, or Ca?sar, or Augustus ever did, notwithstanding VIII. 4.] THE FIRST BOOK. 71 their great largesses and donatives, and distributions of lands to so many legions. And no doubt it is hard to say whether arms or learning have advanced greater numbers. And in case of sovereignty we see, that if arms or descent have carried awa y the kingdom, yet learning hath carried the priesthood, which ever hath been in some competition with empire. 5. Again, for the pleasure and delight of knowledg e P^la^w^. and learning, it far surpasseth all other in nature. For, shall the pleasures of the affections so exceed the plea- sure of the sense, as much as the obtaining of desire or victory exceedeth a song or a dinner ? and must not of consequence the pleasures of the intellect or understand- ing exceed the pleasures of the affections ? We see in all other pleasures there is satiety, and after they be used, their verdure departeth ; which showeth well they be but deceits of pleasure, and not pleasures: and that it was the novelty which pleased, and not the quality. And therefore we see that voluptuous men turn friars, and ambitious princes turn melancholy. But of knowledge there is no satiety, but satisfaction and appetite are per- petually interchangeable; and therefore appeareth to be good in itself simply, without fallacy or accident. Nei- ther is that pleasure of small efficacy and contentment to the mind of man, which the poet Lucretius describeth elegantly, Suave mart magno, turbantibus aequora ventis, &c. It is a view of delight (saith he) to stand or walk upon the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with tempest upon the sea ; or to be in a fortified tower, and to see two battles join upon a plain. But it is a pleasure incomparable, for the mind of man to be settled, landed, and fortified in the cer- tainty of truth ; and from thence to descry and behold the 72 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VIII. 5. -!L_Xw I errors, perturbations, labours, and wanderings up and down 0/ other men. 6. Lastly, leaving the vulgar arguments, that by learn- ing man excelleth man in that wherein man excelleth beasts; that by learning man ascendeth to the heavens and their motions, where in body he cannot come ; and the like ; let us conclude with the dignity and excellency *, of knowledge and learning in that whercunto man'_s na- ture doth most aspire, which is imm ortality or continu- ance ; for to this tendeth generation, and raising of houses and families; to this tend buildings, foundations, and monuments ; to this tendeth the desire of memory, fame, and celebration ; and in effect the strength of all other human desires. We see then how far the monuments of wit and learning are more durable than the monuments of power or of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer continued twenty- five hundred years, or more, without the loss of a syllable or letter ; during which time infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities, have been decayed and demolished ? It is not possible to have the true pic- tures or statuaes of Cyrus, Alexander, Caesar, no nor of the kings or great personages of much later years ; for the originals cannot last, and the copies cannot but leese of the life and truth. But the images of men's wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted from the wrong of time and capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, because they generate still , and cast their seeds in the minds of others, pro- voking and causing infinite actions and opinions in suc- ceeding ages. So that if the invention of the ship was thought so noble, which carrieth riches and commodities from place to place, and consociateth the most remote regions in participation of their fruits, how much more VIII. 6.] THE FIRST BOOK. 73 are letters t o be magnified, which as_ ships pass throug h the vast seas of time , and make ages so distant to par- ticipate of the wisdom, illuminations, and inventions, the one of the other ? Nay further, we see some of the phi- losophers which were least divine, and most immersed in the senses, and denied generally the immortality of the soul, yet came to this point, that whatsoever motions the spirit of man could act and perform without the organs of the body, they thought might remain after death ; which were only those of the understanding, and not of the affection ; so immortal and incorruptible a thing did knowledge seem unto them to be. But we, that know ^h by divine revelation that not only the understanding but the affections purified, not only the spirit but the body changed, shall be advanced to immortality, do disclaim jn these rudiments of the senses. But it must be re- membered, both in this last point, and so it may like- wise be needful in other places, that in proba tion of the dignity of knowledge or learning, I did in the be- ginning separate divine testimony from human, which method I have pursued, and so handled them both apart. 7. Nevertheless I do not pretend, and I know it will be impossible for me, by any pleading of mine, to reverse the judgement, either of iEsop's cock, that preferred the barley-corn before the gem ; or of Midas, that being chosen judge between Apollo, president of the Muses, and Pan, god of the flocks, judged for plenty; or of Paris, that judged for beauty and love against wisdom and power; or of Agrippina- occidat ?nalrem, modo im- peret, that preferred empire with any condition never so detestable ; or of Ulysses, qui vetulam prcetulit immort- alitaii, being a figure of those which prefer custom and 74 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [Vlll. 7. habit before all excellency ; or of a number of the like popular judgements. For these things must continue as they have been: but so will that also continue where- upon learning hath ever relied, and which failelh not : Justificaia est sapicntia a filiis sais. IjUaJfr. u . il- ANALYSIS. BOOK II. OF WHAT HAS BEEN DOIsE FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING HUMAN AND DIVINE, WITH THE DEFECTS OF THE SAME. ' Acts of merit towards learning (3 — 7) as regards {•: Places of learning (4). Books of learning (5). The person of the learned (6). Dedication to the King (1— 15) defining All dedicated to professions and non< Smallness of reward for lecturers (9), Defects of places of learning (8—14) J 3- "'ant of apparatus for experiments ( 4. Neglect of consultation in* governors and of visitation in princes (12). 5. Want of mutual intercourse between the Universities of Europe (13). 6. Want of public appointment of writers or inquirers into the less known branches of knowledge (14). Natural (i. 3K Of marvels (i. 3, 4). I Of arts (i. 5, 6). Memorials (ii. 2) ^ (Chronicles. Perfect histories (ii. 4. 5) ; 1 Lives, their deficiencies (ii. 6—9] (Narrations. . Antiquities (ii. 3) (History of the Church (iii. 1). 11. 2). (iii. 3). Literary (defective). Appendices to history, orations, letters, sayings (iii. (A) Human learning Ji— xxiii) " divided into ( Allusive. (a) D» III. Philosophy (\ natural theology ( \ Science /Physics (vii. 4 > (Metaphysics (vii. 3, 5 — 7), including mathematics (v ( Experimental. Prudence {viii, 3) < Philosophical. ( Magical. Particular, or individual, as regards the Conjugate or Civil (xxiii), f S with reference to l j~ ■J VSensual arts (x. 13). Its nature (xi. 1—3). f ^ e /Invention (xiii. 1 — 10). judgement (xiv). _ j Memory (xv). ^Tradition (xvi— xix). Conversation (> gotiation ( xx Government (x: ■■• 3). . 4— « >■ (B) Divine learning (xxiv, xxv) has two parts The matter revealed 'Of belief (xxv. 19). including f Jy"" 1 (xx , v - 2 °>- , 6 I Manners (xxv. 21). , Of service, including (Liturgy (xxv 22). (Government (xxv. 23). 8). _, ( Limits (xxv. 8). L The nature of the revelation, its < Sufficiency (xxv. 8, 9). ... . ,. . , (Acquisition (xxv. 10— 1: (Use and limits of reason in religon, xxv. 1 — 7). Conclusion. [To /act Pagi 75.) \A, THE SECOND BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON; OF THE PROFICIENCE OR ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN. To the King. i. TT might seem to have more convenience, though it come often otherwise to pass (excellent king), that those which are fruitful in their generations, and have in themselves the foresight of immortality in their descend- ants, should likewise be more careful of the good estate of future times, unto which they know they must transmit and commend over their dearest pledges. Queen Eliza- beth was a sojourner in the world in respect of her un- married life, and was a blessing to her own times; and yet so as the impression of her good government, besides her happy memory, is not without some effect which doth survive her. But to your Majesty, whom God hath already blessed with so much royal issue, worthy to continue and represent you for ever, and whose youthful and fruitful bed doth yet promise many the like renovations, it is proper and agreeable to be conversant not only in the transitory parts of good government, but in those acts also which are in their nature permanent and perpetual. Amongst the which (if affection do not transport me) there 'y^xX^t ■) (v^A-e c-»_^-» 76 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [1. is not any more worthy than the further endowment of the world with sound and fruitful knowledge. For why should a few received authors stand up like Hercules' columns, beyond which there should be no sailing or dis- covering, since we have so bright and benign a star as your Majesty to conduct and prosper us ? To. return therefore where we left, it remaineth to consider of what kind those acts are which have been undertaken and per- formed by kings and others for the increase and advance- ment of learning : wherein I purpose to speak actively without digressing or dilating. 2. Let this ground therefore be laid, that all works are overcommen by amplitude of reward , by _sound n ess of direction, and by the conjunction of la bours. The first multiplieth endeavour, the second preventeth error, and the third supplieth the frailty of man. But the principal of these is direction : for claudus in via antevertit cursorem extra viam ; and Salomon excellently setteth it down, If the iron be not sharp, it requireth more strength; but wisdom is that which prevaileth ; signifying that the invention or election of the mean is more effectual than any inforcement or accumulation of endeavours. This I am induced to speak, for that (not derogating from the noble intention of any that have been deservers towards the state of learning) I do observe nevertheless that their works and acts are rather matters of magnificence and memory, than of progression and proficience, and tend rather to augment the mass of learning in the mult- itude of learned men, than to rectify or raise the sciences themselves. 3. The works or acts of merit towards learning are conversant about three objects; the places of learning, the books of learning, and the persons of the learned. 3.] THE SECOND BOOK. J J For as water, whether it be the dew of heaven, or the springs of the earth, doth scatter and leese itself in the ground, except it be collected into some receptacle, where it may by union comfort and sustain itself: and for that cause the industry of man hath made and framed spring- heads, conduits, cisterns, and pools, which men have accustomed likewise to beautify and adorn with accom- plishments of magnificence and state, as well as of use and necessity : so this excellent liquor of knowledge, whether it descend from divine inspiration, or spring from human sense, would soon perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not preserved in books, traditions, conferences, and places appointed, as universities, col- leges, and schools, for the receipt and comforting of the same. 4. The works which concern the seats and places of P^c** «Jlxa**~j^ learning are four; foundations and buildings, endowments with revenues, endowments with franchises and privileges, institutions and ordinances for government; all tending to quietness and privateness of life, and discharge of cares and troubles; much like the stations which Virgil prescribeth for the hiving of bees : Principio sedes apibus siatioque petenda, Quo neque sit ventis aditus, &c. Gu%*. 5. The works touching books are two : first, librarie s which are as the shrines where all the relics of the an- cient saints, full of true virtue, and that without delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed ; secondly, new editions of authors , with more correct impressions, more faithful translations, more profitable glosses, more diligent annotations, and the like. 6. The works pertaining to the persons of learned men (besides the advancement and countenancing of them in £ r>rk-> 78 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [6. general) are two : the reward and designation of readers in sciences already extant and invented ; and the reward and designation of writers and inquirers concerning any parts of learning not sufficiently laboured and prosecuted. 7. These are summarily the works and acts, wherein the merits of many excellent princes and other worthy personages have been conversant. As for any particular commemorations, I call to mind what Cicero said, when he gave general thanks ; Difficile non aliquem, ingratum quenquam prceterire. Let us rather, according to the scriptures, look unto that part of the race which is before us, than look back to that which is already attained. 8. First therefore, amongst so many great foundations of colleges in Europe, I find strange that they are all dedicated to professions, and none left free to arts and sciences at large. For if men judge that learning should be referred to action, they judge well ; but in this they fall into the error described in the ancient fable, in which the other parts of the body did suppose the stomach had been idle, because it neither performed the office of mo- tion, as the limbs do, nor of sense, as the head doth : but yet notwithstanding it is the stomach that digesteth and distributeth to all the rest. So if any man think phi- losophy and universality to be idle studies, he doth not consider that all professions are from thence served and supplied. And this 1 take to be a great cause that hath hindered the progression of learning, because these fundamental knowledges have been studied but in pas- • sage. For if you will have a tree bear more fruit than it hath used to do, it is not anything you can do to the boughs, but it is the stirring of the earth and putting new mould about the roots that must work it. Neither is it to be forgotten, that this dedicating of foundations «•] THE SECOND BOOK. 79 and dotations to professory learning hath not only had a malign_aspeetand_influence upon the growth of sciences, but hath also been prejudicial to states and governments. For hence it proceeded! that princes find a solitude in regard of able men to serve them in causes of estate, because there is no education collegiate which is free; where such as were so disposed mought give themselves to histories, modern languages, books of policy and civil discourse, and other the like enablements unto service 1 of estate. 9. And because founders of colleges do plant, and J* founders of lectures do water, it followeth well in order iu ^ uwt^ to speak of the defect which is in publicJe^Uires ; namely, in the smallness and meanness of th e salary or reward which in most places is assigned unto them; whether they be lectures of arts, or of professions. For it is necessary to the progression of sciences that readers be of the most able and sufficient men ; as those which are ordained for generating and propagating of sciences, and not for transitory use. This cannot be, except their con- dition and endowment be such as may content the ablest man to appropriate his whole labour and continue his whole age in that function and attendance ; and therefore must have a proportion answerable to that mediocrity or competency of advancement, which may be expected from a profession or the practice of a profession. So as, if you will have sciences flourish, you must observe David's military law, which was, That those which staid with the carriage should have equal part with those which were in the action ; else will the carriages be ill attended. So readers in sciences are indeed the guardians of the stores and provisions of sciences, whence men in active courses are furnished, and therefore ought to have equal t— 80 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [9. entertainment with them ; otherwise if the fathers in sciences be of the weakest sort or be ill maintained, Et patrum invalidi referent jejunia nati. ~yL 10. Another defect I note, wherein I shall need some alchemist to help me, who call upon men to sell their books, and to build furnaces; quitting and forsaking Minerva and the Muses as barren virgins, and relying upon Vulcan. But certain it is, that unto the deep, fruitful, and operative study of many sciences, specially natural philosophy and physic, books be not only the instrumentals ; wherein also the beneficence of men hath not been altogether wanting. For we see spheres, globes, astrolabes, maps, and the like, have been provided as appurtenances to astronomy and cosmography, as well as books. We see likewise that some places instituted for physic have annexed the commodity of gardens for simples of all sorts, and do likewise command the use of dead bodies for anatomies. But these do respect but a few things. In general, there will hardly be any main proficience in the disclosing of nature, except there be some allowance for expenses about experiments ; whe- ther they be experiments appertaining to Vulcanus or Daedalus, furnace or engine, or any other kind. And therefore as secretaries and spials of princes and states bring in bills for intelligence, so you must allow the spials and intelligencers of nature to bring in their bills ; or else you shall be ill advertised. 11. And if Alexander made such a liberal assignation to Aristotle of treasure for the allowance of hunters, fowlers, fishers, and the like, that he mought compile an history of nature, much better do they deserve it that travail in arts of nature. 12. Another defect which I note, is an intermission or 12.] THE SECOND BOOK. 8 1 . neglect, in those which are governors in universities, fjLJU.^c of consultation, and in princes or superior persons, of /w-*£L«U visitation : to enter into account and consideration, whe- ther the readings, exercises, and other customs apper- taining unto learning, anciently begun and since conti- nued, be well instituted or no ; and thereupon to ground an amendment or reformation in that which shall be found inconvenient. For it is one of your Majesty's own most wise and princely maxims, That in all usages and precedents, the tunes be considered wherein they first began ; which if they were weak or ignorant, it derogate th from the authority of the usage, and leaveth it for suspect. And therefore inasmuch as most of the usages and orders of the universities were derived from more obscure times, it is the more requisite they be re-examined. In this kind I will give an instance or two, for example sake, of things that are the most obvious and familiar. The one is a matter, which though it be ancient and general, yet I hold to be an error ; which is, that scholars in universities come too soon and too unripe to logic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than children and novices. For these two, rightly taken, are the gravest of sciences, being the arts of arts ; the one for judgement, the other for ornament. And they be the rules and directions how to set forth and dispose matter : and therefore for minds empty and unfraught with matter, and which have not gathered that which Cicero calleth sylva and supellex, stuff and variety, to begin with those arts (as if one should learn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint the wind) doth work but this effect, that the wisdom of those arts, which is great and universal, is almost made contemptible, and is degenerate into childish sophistry and ridiculous affectation. And further, the untimely 82 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. I 2. X learning of them hath drawn on by consequence the superficial and unprofitable teaching and writing of them, as fitteth indeed to the capacity of children. Another is a lack I find in the exercises used in the universities, which do make too great a divorce between invention and memory. For their speeches are either premeditate, in verbis concep/is, where nothing is left to invention; or merely extemporal, where little is left to memory. Whereas in life and action there is least use of either of these, but rather of intermixtures of premeditation and invention, notes and memory. So as the exercise fitteth not the practice, nor the image the life ; and it is ever a true rule in exercises, that they be framed as near as may be to the life of practice ; for otherwise they do pervert the motions and faculties of the mind, and not prepare them. The truth whereof is not obscure, when scholars come to the practices of professions, or other actions of civil life ; which when they set into, this want is soon found by themselves, and sooner by others. But this part, touching the amendment of the institutions and orders of universities, I will conclude with the clause of Caesar's letter to Oppius and Balbus, Hoc quemadmodwn fieri possit, nonnulla mihi in mentem veniunl, et midta reperiri possunl : de it's rebus rogo vos ut cogitalionem suscipiatis. 13. Another defect which I note, ascendeth a little higher than the precedent. For as the proficience of learning consisteth much in the orders and institutions of universities in the same states and kingdoms, so it would be yet more advanced, if there were more intel- ligence mutual between the universities of Europe than now there is. We see there be many orders and found- ations, which though they be divided under several sovereignties and territories, yet they take themselves to I K/ -5-1 THE SECOND BOOK. «5 may be done by public designation, though not by private endeavour. But notwithstanding, if any man will take to himself rather that of Salomon," Dicitpiger, Leo est in via, than that of Virgil, Possunt quia posse videntur, I shall be content that my labours be esteemed but as the better [ sort of wishes : for as it asketh some knowledge to de- I mand a question not impertinent, so it requireth some - sense to make a wish not absurd. 1. 1 ^HE parts of human learnin g have reference j^jkjj&_^jv~ to the three parts of man's understanding, which is the seat of learning : history to his .m emory , 1 poesy to his imaginatio n, and philosophy to his, reason. | Divine learnin g receiveth the same distribution ; for the spirit of man is the same, though the revelation of oracle and sense be diverse. So as theology consisteth also of history of the church; of parables, which is divine poesy; and of holy doctrine or precept. For as for that part which seemeth supernumerary, which is prophecy, it is but divine history ; which hath that prerogative over human, as the narration may be before the fact as well as after. 2. History is natural, civil, ecclesiastical, and literary : \^dJn whereof the three first I allow as extant, the Historia Liter arum. fourth I note as deficient. For no man hath propounded to himself the general stateo f learnin g to be described and represented from, age to age, as many have done the works of nature, and the state civil and ecclesiastical ; without which the history of the world seemeth to me to be as the statua of Polyphemus with his eye out; that part being wanting which doth most show the spirit and life of the person. And yet I am not ignorant that in divers particular ^ 'jk^v ^4 W^AJJL ., . __" ' 86 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [i. 2. sciences, as of the jurisconsults, the mathematicians, the rhetoricians, the philosophers, there are set down some small memorials of the schools, authors, and books ; and so likewise some barren relations touching the invention of arts or usages. But a just stojry of learning, containing the antiquities and originals of knowledges and their sects, their inventions, their traditions, their diverse administra- tions and managings, their flourishings, their oppositions, decays, depressions, oblivions, removes , with the causes and occasions of them, and all other events concerning learning, throughout the ages of the world, I may truly affirm to be wanting. The use and end of which work I do not so much design for curiosity or satisfaction of those that are the lovers of learning, but chiefly for a more serious and grave purpose, which is this in few words, that it will make learned men wise in th e__use and administration of learning. For it is not Saint Augustine's nor Saint Ambrose' works that will make so wise a divine, as ecclesiastical history, throughly read and observed; and the same reason is of learning. 3. History of nature is of three sorts : ofji ature in course ; of nature erring or varying ; and of nature altered or wrought ; that is, history of c reature s, history of mar- vels, and history of arts. The first of these no doubt is extant, and that in good perfection: the two latter are handled so weakly and unprofitably, as I am moved to note them as deficient. For I find no suffi- cient or competent collection of the works of nature which have a digression and deflexion from the ordinary course of generations, pro- j Historia Naturae Errands. ductions, and motions ; whether they be singularities of place and region, or the strange events of time and } chance, or the effects of yet unknown p ropriet ies, or the I. 3.] THE SECOND BOOK. 87 3f instances of exception to general kinds. It is true, I find a number of books of fabulous experiments and secrets, and frivolous impostures for pleasure and strange- ness; but a substantial and severe collection of the heteroclites or irregulars of nature , well examined and described, I find not : specially not with due rejection of fables and popular errors. For as things now are, if an untruth in nature be once on foot, what by reason of the neglect of examination, and countenance of antiqui ty, and what by reason of the use of the opinion in similitudes and ornaments of speech, it is never called down . 4. The use of this work, honoured with a precedent i n Aristo tle, is nothing less than to give contentment to the appetite of curious and vain wits, as the manner of Mirabilaries is to do ; but for two reasons, both of great weight; the_one to correct the p artiality of axiom s and opinions, which are commonly framed only upon com- mon and familiar examples ; the other because from the wonders of nature is the nearest intelligence and passage towards the wonders of art : for it is no more but by following, and as it were hounding nature in her wander- ings, to be able to lead her afterwards to the same place again. Ne ither am I of opinion, in this history of mar- vels, that superstitio us narration s of sorceries, witchcrafts, dreams, divinations, and the like, where there is an assurance and clear evidence of the fact, be altogether excluded. For it is not yet known in what cases and how far effects attributed to superstition do participat e of natural causes : and therefore howsoever the practice of such things is to be condemned, yet from the specu- lation and consideration of them light may be taken, not only for the discerning of the offences, but for the further disclosing of nature. N either ought a man to make I- ifrWX it I aJU -*-yi o-w*vs 88 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [1.4. \ .iJavJL^ uJr, 'fcCAXjjtuj Historia Mechanica. scruple of entering into these things for inquisition of truth, as your Majesty hath showed in your own example ; who with the two clear eyes of religion and natural philo- sophy have looked deeply and wisely into these shadows, and yet proved yourself to be of the nature of the sun, which passeth through pollutions and itself remains as pure as before. But this I hold fit, that these narrations, which have mixture with superstition, be sorted by them- selves, and not (to; be mingled with the narrations which are merel y and sincerely natural. But as for the nar- rations touching the prodigies and miracles of religions, they are either not true, or not natural; and therefore impertinent for the story of nature. 5. For history of nature wrought or mechanical, I find some collections made of agriculture, and likewise of manual arts ; but commonly with a rejection of experiments familiar and vulgar. For it is esteemed a kind of dishonour unto learning to descend to inquiry or meditation upon matters mechanical, except they be such as may be thought secrets, rarities, and special subtilties ; which humour of vain and supercilious arrogancy is justly derided in Plato ; where he brings in Hippias, a vaunting sophist, disputing with Socrate s, a true ano^mifeigned I q -j. i nquisitor of trut h ; where the subject being touching j beauty, Socrates, after his wandering manne r of induc- tions, put first an example of a fair virgin, and then of a fair horse, and then of a fair pot well glazed, whereat Hippias was offended, and said, More tha?i for courtesy's sake, he did think much to dispute with any that did aiiege such base and sordid his lances. Whereunto Socrates an- swereth, You have reaso n^ and it becomes you well, being a man so trim in your vestimcnts, &*c., and so goeth on in an 1.5-1 THE SECOND BOOK. 8 9 irony. But the truth is, they be not the highest instances that give the securest information ; as may be well ex- pressed in the tale so common of the philosopher, that while he gazed upwards to the stars fell into the water ; for if he had looked down he might have seen the stars in the water, but looking aloft he could not see the water in the stars. So it cometh often to pass, that mean and small things discover great, better than great can discover the small : and therefore Aristotle noteth well, That the nature of everything is best seen in his smallest portions. And for that cause he inquireth the nature of a common- wealth, first in a family, and the simple c onjugation s of I man and wife, parent and child, master and servant, which are in every cottage. Even so likewise the nature of this ^^y^k^ great city of the world , and the policy thereof, must be first sought in mean concordances and small portions. So we see how that secret of nature, of the turning of iron touched with the loadstone towards the north, was found out in needles of iron, not in bars of iron. 6. But if my judgement be of any weight, the use of history mechanical is of al l other s the most radical and fundamental towards natural philosophy ; such natural philosophy as shall not vanish in the fume of subtile, sublime, or delectable speculation, but such as shall be operative to the endowment and benefit of man's life. For it will not only minister and suggest for the present many ingenious practices in all trades, by a connexion and transferring of the observations of one art to the use of another, when the experiences of several mysteries shall fall under the consideration of one man's mind ; but further, it will give a more true and real illumination concerning causes and axioms than is hitherto attained. For like as a man's disposition is never well known till X * X a a£v^ PJOUk. 1- Vo!L^ WdJ-a 90 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [i. 6. ^UAV^er-^voJ^a iK^lii' he be crossed, nor Proteus ever changed shapes till he was straitened and held fast ; so the pa ssage s and vari- ations of nature cannot appear so fully in the liberty of nature as in the trials and ve xations of art. ^ <^a~ Ujv* iauvZL. II. i. For c ivil hi story, it is of three kinds; not un- fitly to be compared with the three kinds of pictures or images. For of pictures or images, we see some are unfinish ed, some are perfect, and some are defaced. So of histories we may find three kinds, memorials , perfect histories, and antiquitie s ; for memorials are history un- finished, or the first or rough draughts of history ; and antiquities are history defaced, or some remnants of his- tory which have casually escaped the shipwreck of time. 2. Memorial s, or preparatory history, are of two sorts ; whereof the one may be termed c ommentarie s, and the other register s. Commentaries are they which set down a continuance of the naked events and actions, without the motives or designs, the counsels, the speeches, the pretexts, the occasions and other passages of action : for 4JU00 this is the true nature of a commentary (though Caesar, j in modesty mixed with greatness, did for his pleasure apply the name of a commentary to t he best history of the world ). Registers are collections of public acts, as decrees of council, judicial proceedings, declarations and letters of estate, orations and the like, without a perfect continuance or contexture of the thread of the narration. 3. Antiquities , or remnants of history, are, as was said, tanquam tabula naufragii : when industrious persons, by an exact and scrupulous diligence and observat ion, out of monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions, private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of books that concern not story, and the like, do save and recover somewhat from the deluge of time. n.4.] THE SECOND BOOK. 9 1 4. In these kinds of imperfect histories I do assign no deficience, for they are tanquam imperfecte mista ; and therefore any deficience in them is but their nature. As for the corruptions and moths of history , which are epitomes, the use of them deserveth to be banished, as all men of sound judgement have confessed, as those that have frette d and corroded the sound bodies of many excellent histories, and wrought them into base and unprofitable dregs. 5. History, which may be called just and perfect his- tory, is of three kinds, according to the object which it propoundeth, or pretendeth to represent : for it either representeth a time, or a person, or an action. The first we call chronicle s, the second lives , and the third narra- tions or relations. Of these, although the first be the most complete and absolute kind of history, and hath most estimation and glory, yet the second excelleth it in profit and use, and the third in verity and sincerity. For history of times representeth the magnitude of actions and the public faces and deportments of persons, and passeth over in silence the smaller passages and motions !of men and matters. But such being the workmanship I of God, as he doth hang the greatest weight upon the smallest wires, maxima e minimis suspendens, it comes therefore to pass, that such histories do rather set forth the pomp of business than the true and inward resorts thereof. But lives, if they be well written, propounding to themselves a person to represent, in whom actions both greater and smaller, public and private, have a commix- ture, must of necessity contain a more true, native, and 1 lively representation. So again narrations and relations of actions, as the war of Peloponnesus, the expedition of Cyrus Minor, the conspiracy of Catiline, cannot but be T-pv :^~* i TLvv>^-0 f v r\*->< WV*-»-v«-iLc»>(jL-> U^ V)"*^* ~VN-**a/W%^._ 92 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [il. 5. 1 more purely and exactly true than histories of times, because they may choose an argument comprehensible within the notice and instructions of the writer : whereas ' he that undertaketh the story of a time, specially of any length, cannot but meet with many blanks and spaces which he must be forced to fill up out of his own wit . and conjecture. ** 6. For the history of times (I mean of civil history), the providence of God hath made the distribution. For it hath pleased God to ordain and illustrate two exemplar states of the world for arms, learning, moral virtue, policy, and laws; the state of Grecia and the state of Rome; the histories whereof, occupying the middle part of time, have more ancient to them histories which may by one common name be termed the antiquities of the world : and after them, histories which may be likewise called by the name of modern history. 7. Now to speak of the deficiences. As to the hea- then antiquities of the world, it is in vain to note them for deficient. Deficient they are no doubt, consisting most of fables and fragments ; but the deficience cannot be holpen ; for antiquity is like fame, caput inter nubila condit, her head is muffled from our sight. For the his- tory of the exemplar states it is extant in good perfection. Not but I could wish there were a perfect course of history for Grecia from Theseus to Philopcemen (what time the affairs of Grecia drowned and extinguished in the affairs of Rome), and for Rome from Romulus to Justinianus, who may be truly said to be ultimus Romanorum. In which sequences of story the text of Thucydides and Xenophon in the one, and the texts of Livius, Polybius, Sallustius, Caesar, Appianus, Tacitus, Herodianus in the other, to be kept entire without any II. 7-] THE SECOND BOOK. 93 diminution at all, and only to be supplied and conti nued. But this is matter of magnificence, rather to be com- mended than required : and we speak now of parts of learning supplemental and not of supererogation. 8. But for modern histor ies, whereof there are some few very worthy, but the greater part beneath mediocrity, leaving the care of foreign stories to foreign states, be- cause I will not be curiosus in aliena republica, I cannot fail to represent to your Majesty the unworthiness of the history of England in the main continuance thereof, and the partiality and obliquity of that of Scotland in the £*-• (\~~+L*~^~. , latest and largest author that I have seen : supposing that it would be honour for your Majesty, and a work very memorable, if this island of Great Brittany, as it is now joined in monarchy for the ages to come, so were joined in one history for the times passed ; after the manner of the sacred history, which draweth down the story of the ten tribes and of the t wo trib es as twins together. And V^**"*^ » IoaolO. if it shall seem that the greatness of this work may make it less exactly performed, there is an excellent period of a much smaller compass of time, as to the story of England ; that is to say, from the uniting of the Roses to the uniting of the kingdoms ; a portion of time wherein, to my understanding, there J^ath been the rarest varieties that in like number of successions of any hereditary monarchy hath been known. For it beginneth with the mixed adeptio n of a crown by arms and title; an entry by battle, an establishment by marriage ; and therefore times answerable, like waters after a tempest, full of working and swelling, though without extremity of storm ; but well passed through by the wisdom of the pilot, being one of the most sufficient kings of all the number. H -ZU Then followeth the reign of a king, whose actions, howso- H-JB- 94 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [ll. 8. ever conducted, had much intermixture with the affairs of Europe, balancing and inclining them variably ; in whose time also began that great alteration in the state eccle- siastical, an action which seldom cometh upon the stage. Then the reign of a mino r: then an offer of an usurpation J** *» (though it was but 2,$>febris ephemera). Then the reign of a queen matched with a foreigner: then of a^crueen that *v»~p lived solitary and unmarried, and yet her government so masculine, as it had greater impression and operation upon the states abroad than it any ways received from thence. And now last, this most happy and glorious event, that this island of Brittany, divided from all the world, should be united in itself: and that oracle of rest given to iEneas, antiquam exquirite matrem, should now be performed and fulfilled upon the nations of England and Scotland, being now reunited in the ancient mother c/*h name of Brittany, as a full period of all instability and peregrinations. So that as it cometh to pass in massive bodies, that they have certain trepidations and waverings before they fix and settle, so it seemeth that by the pro- vidence of God this monarchy, before it was to settle in your majesty and your generations (in which I hope it is now established for ever), (it) had these prelusive changes and varieties. /2 . 9. For lives , I do find strange that these times have so '" little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the writings of lives should be no more frequent. For although there be not many sovereign princes or absolute commanders, and that states are most collected into monarchies, yet are there many worthy personages that deserve better than dispersed report or barren elogies. For herein £Ufi. Fu/v. tne invention of one of the late poets is proper, and doth well enrich the a ncient fictio n. For he feigneth II. o] THE SECOND BOOK. 95 that at the end of the thread or web of every man's life there was a little medal containing the person's name, and that Time waited upon the shears, and as soon as the thread was cut, caught the medals, and carried them to the river of Lethe ; and about the bank there were many birds flying up and down, that would get the medals and carry them in their beak a little while, and then let them fall into the river. Only there were a few swans, which if they got a name would carry it to a temple where it was consecrate. And although many men, more mortal in their affections than in their bodies, do esteem desire of name and memory but as a vanity and ventosity, Animi nil magnae Iaudis egentes ; /j^y which opinion cometh from that root, Non prius laudes eon/empsimus, quam laudanda facere desivimus : yet that will not alter Salomon's judgement, Memoria justi cum laudibus, at impiorum nomen putrescet : the one flourisheth, the other either consumeth to present oblivion, or turneth to an ill odour. And therefore in that styl e or addkion, which is and hath been long well received and brought in use, felicis memories, pice memories, bones memories, we do acknowledge that which Cicero saith, borrowing it from Demosthenes, that bona fama propria possessio de- functorum ; which possession I cannot but note that in our times it lieth much waste, and that therein there is a deficience. 10. For narrations and relations of particular actions, h^uL c . \J^Jr . there were also to be wished a greater diligence therein ; for there is no great action but hath some good pe n whi ch attends it. And because it is an ability not com- mon to write a good history, as may well appear by the small number of them ; yet if particularity of actions j>fcrn/\-«*swC»jLo 96 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING [il. 10. memorable were but tolerably reported as they pass, the compiling of a complete history of times mought be the better expected, when a writer should arise that were fit for it : for the collection of such relations mought be 5-c ^ ' as a nursery garden, whereby to plant a fair and stately garden, when time should serve. CUw^JL* ii« There is yet another partition of" history which Cornelius Tacitus maketh, which is not to be forgotten, specially with that application which he accoupleth it withal, annals and journals : appropriating to the former matters of estate, and to the latter acts and accidents of a meaner nature. For giving but a tou ch of certain mag- nificent buildings, he addeth, Cum ex dignitate populi Ro- mani repertum sit, res ilhistres a nnalib us, /alia diurnis urbis adis mandare. So as there is a kind of contemplative heraldry , as well as civil. And as nothing doth derogate from the dignity of a state more than confusion of de- grees, so it doth not a little imbase the authority of an history, to intermingle matters of triumph, or matters of ceremony, or matters of novelty, with matters of state. But the use of a journal hath not only been in the history of time, but likewise in the history of persons, and chiefly of actions ; for princes in ancient time had, upon point of honour and policy both, journals kept, what passed day by day. For we see the chronicle which was read ?>Wu> before Ahasuerus^ when he could not take rest, contained matter of affairs indeed, but such as had passed in his own time and very lately before. But the journal of GMU*. Alexander's house expressed every small particularity, even concerning his person and court ; and it is yet an use well received in enterprises memorable, as expe- ditions of war, navigations, and the like, to keep diaries of that which passeth continually. II. 12.] THE SECOND BOOK. gy 12. I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form of writing P&JUo -£: which some grave and wise men have used, containing a h^ilr scattered history of those actions which they have thought worthy of memory, with politic discourse and observation thereupon : not incorporate into the history, but separ- ately, and as the more principal in their intention ; which kind of ruminated history I thing more fit to place amongst books of policy, whereof we shall hereafter speak, than amongst books of history. For it is the true office of his- tory to represent the events themselves together with the counsels, and to leave the observations and conclusions thereupon to the liberty and faculty of every man's judge- ment. But mixtures are things irregular, whereof no man can define. 13. So also is there another kind of history manifoldly C^-ovw^-.j^ mixed, and that is history of c osmograph y : being com- pounded of natural history, in respect of the regions themselves ; of history c ivil, in respect of the habitations, regiments , and manners of the people ; and the mathe- matics, in respect of the climates and configu rations to - wards the heavens : which part of learning of all others in this latter time hath obtained most proficience. For it may be truly affirmed to the honour of these times, and in a virtuous emulation with antiquity, that this great building of the world had never through-lights made in it, till the age of us and our fathers. For although they had knowledge of the antipodes, Nosque ubi primus equis Oriens afflavit anhelis, Illic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper, (h> f,. yet that mought be by demonstration, and not in fact; (a^.-,^ and if by travel, it requireth the voyage but of half the globe. But to circle the earth, as the heavenly bodies do, was not done nor enterprised till these later times : and H 98 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [il. 13. .cflj-^i . HvaV therefore these times may justly bear in their word , not only plus ultra, in precedence of the ancient non ultra, and imitabile fulm en, in precedence of the ancient non imitabile fulmen, Demens qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen, &c. Ut^\ji but likewise imitabile calum; in respect of the many memorable voyages after the manner of heaven about the globe of the earth. 14. And this proficience in navigation and discoveries may plant also an expectation of the further proficience and augmentation of all sciences ; becaus e it may seem they are ordained by God to be coevals, that is, to meet in one age. For so the prophet Daniel speaking of the latter times foretelleth, Plurimi pertransibunl, et multiplex erit scientia : as if the openness and through-passage of the world, and the increase of knowledge were appointed to be in the same ages ; as we see it is already performed in great part : the learning of these later times not much giving place to the former two periods or returns of learn- ing, the one of the Grecians, the other of the Romans. III. 1. History ecclesiastica l receiveth the same divi- sions with history civil : but further in the propriety thereof may be divided into the history of the_ church, by a general name ; history of proph ecy ; and history of providenc e. The first describeth the times of the milit- ant church, whether it be fluctuant, as the ark of Noah, or moveable, as the ark in the wilderness, or at rest, as the ark in the temple : that is, the state of the church in persecution, in remove, and in peace. This part I ought in no sort to note as deficient ; only I would the virtue and sincerity of it were according to the mass and quantity. But I am not now in hand with censures, but with omissions. III. 2.] THE SECOND BOOK. 99 2. The second, which is history of prophecy , consisteth ^-u-c*- r of two relatives, the prophecy , and the accomplishme nt ; j^iLa^^-^ and therefore the nature of such a work ought to be, that every prophecy of the scripture be sorted with the event fulfilling the same, throughout the ages of the world ; both for the better confirmation of faith, and for the better illumination of the Church touching those parts of pro- phecies which are yet unfulfilled : allowing nevertheless that latitude which is agreeable and familiar unto divine prophecies ; being of the nature of their author, with whom a thousand years are but as one day ; and there- fore are not fulfilled punctually at once, but have springing and germinant accomplishment throughout many a^es : though the heicrht _ , . ° r ° ° Prophettca. or fulness of them may refer to some one age. This is a work which I find deficient ; but is to be done with wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not at all. 3. The third, which is history of p rovidenc e, con- taineth that excellent correspondence which is between God's revealed will and his secret will : which though it be so obscure, as for the most part it is not legible to the natural man; no, nor many times to those that behold it from the tabernacle; yet at some times it pleaseth God, for our better establishment and the con- futing of those which are as without God in the world, to write it in such text and capital letters, that, as the prophet saith, He thai runneth b ymay read it,; that is, mere sensual persons, which hasten by God's judge- ments, and never bend or fix their cogitations upon them, are nevertheless in their passage and race urged to discern it. Such^are the notable events and examples of God's judgements, chastisements, deliverances, and H 2 |Cjlv*&>^ IOO OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [ill. 3 UruvcU J iruji WlA^j LtW o^Ui. blessings : and this is a work which hath passed through the labour of many, and therefore I cannot present as omitted. 4. There are also other parts of learning which are appendices to history. For all the exterior proceedings of man consist of word s and deeds ; whereof history doth properly receive and retain in memory the deeds, and if words, yet but as inducements and passages to deeds ; so are there other books and writings, which are appropriate to the custody and receipt of words only ; which likewise are of three sorts; orations, letters, and brief speeches or sayings. Orations are pleadings, speeches o f couns el, laudatives, invectives, apologies, reprehensions, orations of formality or ceremony, and the like. Letters are according to all the variety of oc- casions, aglyertisements, advices, directions, propositions, petitions, commendatory, expostulatory, satisfactory, of compliment, of pleasure, of discourse, and all other pas- sages of action. And such as are written from wise men 1 are of all the words of man, in my judgement, the best ; ( for they are more natural than orations, and public speeches, and more advised than conferences or present, speeches. So again letters of affairs from such as manage them, or are privy to them, are of all others the best instructions for history, and to a diligent reade*r the best histories in themselves. For apophthegms , it is a great loss of that book of Caesar's ; for as his history, and those few letters of his which we have, and those apo- phthegms which were of his own, excel all men's else, so I suppose would his collection of apophthegms have done. For as for those which are collected by others, either I have no taste in such matters, or else their choice hath not been happy. But upon these three kinds of writings III. 4-] THE SECOND BOOK. IOI # I do not insist, because I have no deficiences to propound concerning them. 5. Thus much therefore concerning history, which is that part of learning which answereth to one of the cells, domiciles, or offic es of the mind of man ; which is that of the memory. IV. 1. Poesy is a part of learning inmeasure of words TLjbu. for the most part restrained, but in all other points ex- tremely licensed, and doth truly refer to the imagination ; which, being not tied to the laws of matter, may- at plea- sure join that which nature hath severed, and sever that which nature hath joined ; and so make unlawful matches and divorces of things ; Pictoribus atque poetis, 1 4,7 may appear. And the cause was, for that it was then of (Tm« IV. 3.] THE SECOND BOOK. 103 necessity to express any point of reason which was more sharp or subtile than the vulgar in that manner, because men in those times wanted both variety of examples and subtilty of conceit. And as hieroglyphics were before letters, so parables were before arguments : and never- theless now and at all times they do retain much life and vigour, because reason cannot be so sensible, nor examples so fit. 4. But there remaineth yet another use of poesy para- bolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned : for that tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that which is taught or delivered, and this other to retire and obscure it : that is, when the secrets and mysteries of religion, policy, or philosophy, are involved in fables or parables. Of this in divine poesy we see the use is authorised. In heathen poesy we see the exposition of fables doth fall out sometimes with great felicity ; as in the fable that the giants being overthrown in their war against the gods, the earth their mother in revenge thereof brought forth Fame : Illam terra parens, ira irritata Deorum, Extremam, ut perhibent, Coeo Enceladoque sororem Progenuit. Ej^)oujided__that when princes and monarchs have sup- pressed actual and open rebels, then the malignity of people (which is the mother of rebellion) doth bring forth libels and slanders, and taxations of the states, which is of the same kind with rebellion, but more feminin e. So in the fable that the rest of the gods having conspired to bind Jupiter, Pallas called Briareus with his hundred hands to his aid : expounded that monarchies need not fear any curbing of their absoluteness by mighty sub- jects, as long as by wisdom they keep the hearts of the 2. U^j_a^» iK Vv-VJL^flu ZlJhL* (ttw~*«.j 104 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [iV. 4. «■> -•■3 wry* o (.<-i.*i /3L^ UwK r <0^ 1 •-«-Cva_ people, who will be sure to come in on their side. So in the fable that Achilles was brought up under Chiron the centaur, who was part a man and part a beast, expounded ingenio u sly but corruptly by Machiavel, that it belongeth to the education and discipline of princes to know as well how to play the part of the lion in violence, and the fox in guile, as of the man in virtue and justice. Never- theless, in many the like encounters, I do rather think that the fable was first, and the exposition devised, than that the moral was first, and thereupon the fable framed. For I find it was an ancient vanity in Chrysippus, that troubled himself with great contention to fasten the assertions of the Stoics upon the fictions of the ancient poets ; but yet that all the fables and fictions of the poets were but pleasure and not figure, I interpose no opinion. Surely of those poets which are now extant, even Homer himself (notwithstanding he was made a kind of scrip- ture by the later schools of the Grecians), yet I should without any difficulty pronounce that his fables had no such inwardness in his own meaning. But what they might have upon a more original tradition, is not easy to affirm ; for he was not the inventor of many of them. 5. In this third part of learning, which is poesy, I can report no deficience. For being as a plant that cometh of the lust of the earth, without a formal seed, it hath sprung up and spread abroad more than any other kind. But to ascribe unto it that which is due, for the expressing of affections, passions, corruptions, and customs, we are beholding to poets more than to the philosophers' works; and for wit and eloquence, not much less than to orators' harangues. But it is not good to stay too long in the theatre. Let us now pass on to the judicial place or palace i-o-» -d~*-^k i-y ^U CM-*- 1 <- -v. -t% IV. S-] THE SECOND BOOK. 105 of the mind, which we are to approach and view with more reverence and attention. V. 1. The knowledge of man is as the waters, some \ A^Jx^>^J descending from above, and some springing from be- -\ neath ; the one informed by the light of nature, the other inspired by divine revelation. The light of nature con- sisteth in the notions of the mind and the reports of the senses : for as for knowledge which man receiveth by teaching, it is cumulative and not original ; as in a water that besides his own spring-head is fed with other springs and streams. So then, according to these two differing illuminations or originals, knowledge is first of all divided into divinity and philosophy. 2. In philosophy, the contemplations of man do either penetrate unto God, or are circumferred to nature, or are reflected or reverted upon himself. Out of which several r^ KoIU»* to inquiries there do arise tlu^eknmvled^es ; divine philo- ' sophy, natural philosophy, and human philosophy or humanity. For all things are marked and stamped with this triple character, of the p_ower_of^God, the difference ojjiature, and the use of man. But because the distribu- tions and partitions of knowledge are not like several I lines that meet in one angle, and so touch but in a point; but are like branches of a tree, that meet in a stem, which hath a dimension and quantity of entireness and con- tinuance, before it come to discontinue and break itself into arms and boughs : therefore it is good, before we enter into the former distribution, to erect and constitute one universal science, by the name of philosophia prima , primitive or summary philosophy, as the main and com- mon way, before we come where the ways part and divide themselves; which science whether I should report as deficient or no, I stand doubtful. For I find a certain 106 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [v. 2. rhapsoctysp f natural theology, and of divers parts of logic; and of that part of natural philosophy which concerneth Cx-f. ^ j^^tvi^. t j ie p r i nc ipi eSj an( } f t na t other part of natural philo- sophy which concerneth the soul or spirit; all these strangely commixed and confused ; but being examined, it seemeth to me rather a de predation of other sciences, advanced and exalted un to some height of term s, than anything solid or substantive of itself. Nevertheless I cannot be ignorant of the distinction which is current, that the same things are handled but in several respects. As for example, that logic considereth of many things as they are in notion, and this philosophy as they are in nature ; the one in appearance, the other in existence ; * but I find this difference better made than pursued. For if they had considered quantity, similitude, diversity, and the rest of those extern characters of things, as philo- sophers, and in nature, their inquiries must of force have been of a far other kind than they are. For doth any of them, in handling quantity, speak of the force of union, how and how far it multiplieth virtue? Doth any give the reason, why some things in nature are so common, and in so great mass, and others so rare, and in so small quantity ? Doth any, in handling similitude and divers- ity, assign the cause why iron should not move to iron, which is more like, but move to the load-stone, which is less like ? Why in all diversities of things there should be certain pa rticiple s in nature, which are almost am- biguous to which kind they should be referred? But I* , -UXo -u-oi* there is a mere and deep silence touching the nature and operation of those common adjuncts of things, as in nature : and only a resuming and repeating of the force and use of them in speech or argument. Therefore, because in a writing of this nature I avoid all subtility, V. 2.1 THE SECOND BOOK. I07 my meaning touching this original or universal philo- sophy is thus, in a plain and gross description by nega- tive : That it be a receptacle for all such profitable observ- ations and axioms as fall not within the compass of any of the special parts of philosophy or sciences, but are more common and of a higher stage. 3. Now that there are many of that kind need not be doubted. For example : is not the rule, Si i?icequalibus ccqualia addas, omnia erunt inaBqualia, an axiom as well of justice as of the mathematics? and is there not a true coincidence between commutative and distributive justice, and arithmetical and geometrical proportion? Is not that other rule, Quce in eodem ierlio conveniunl, el inter se convcniunt, a rule taken from the mathematics, but so potent in logic as all syllogisms are built upon it? Is not the observation, Omnia mulanlur, nil inleril } a con- templation in philosophy thus, that the quantum of nature is eternal? in natural theology thus, that it requireth the same omnipotence to make somewhat nothing, which at the first made nothing somewhat ? according to the scrip- ture, Didici quod omnia opera, qua fecit Deus, perseverent in perpetuum ; non possumus eis quicquam addere nee au- ferre. Is not the ground, which Machiavel wisely and largely discourseth concerning governments, that the way to establish and preserve them, is to reduce them ad principia, a rule in religion and nature, as well as in civil administration ? Was not t he Persian magi c a reduction or correspondence of the principles and architecture s of nature to the rules and policy of governments? Is not the precept of a musician, to fall from a discord or harsh accord upon a concord or sweet accord, alike true in affection? Is not the trope of music, to avoid or slide from the close or cadence, common with the trope of PUUn. * AwaV^-^Lo-t" I08 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [V. 3. ^-tiu^. Philosophia prima, sive de fontibus icientiarum. rhetoric of deceiving expectation ? Is not the delight of the quavering upon a stop in music the same with the playing of light upon the water ? Splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus. Are not the organs of the senses of one kind with the organs of reflection, the eye with a glass, the ear with a cave or strait, determined and bounded? Neither are these only similitudes, as men of narrow observation may conceive them to be, but the same footsteps of nature, treading or printing upon several subjects or matters. This science therefore (as I understand it) I may justly report as deficient: for I see sometimes the profounder sort of wits, in handling some particular argument, will now and then draw a bucket of water out of this well for their present use : but the spring-head thereof seemeth to me not to have been visited; being of so excellent use both for the disclosing of nature and the abridgement of art. VI. 1. This science being therefore first placed as a common parent like unto Berecynthi a. which had so much heavenly issue, omnes ccelicolas, omnes supera alta te?ientes ; we may return to the former distribution of the three philosophies, divine, natural, and human. And as \ concerning divine philosophy or natural theolog y, it is that knowledge or rudiment of knowledge concerning God, which may be obtained by the contemplation of his creatures; which knowledge may be truly termed divine in respect of the object, and natural in respect of the light. The bounds of this knowledge are, that it sufficeth to convince atheism, but not to inform religion : and therefore there was never miracle wrought by God to convert an atheist, because the light of nature might ^uL VI. i.] THE SECOND BOOK. 109 have led him to confess a God : but miracles have been wrought to convert idolaters and the superstitious, be- cause no light of nature extendeth to declare the will and L true worship of God. For as all works do show forth the power and skill of the workman, and not his image, so it is of the works of God, which do show the omni- potency and wisdom of the maker, but not his image. And therefore therein the heathen opinion dirTereth from the sacred truth ; for they supposed the world to be the image of God, and man to be an extract or compendious image of the world ; but the scriptures never vouchsafe to attribute to the world that honour, as to be the image of God, but only the work of his hands ; neither do they speak of any other image of God, but man. Wherefore by the contemplation of nature to induce and enforce the acknowledgement of God, and to demonstrate his power, providence, and goodness, is an excellent argu- ment, and hath been excellently handled by divers. But on the other side, out of the contemplation of nature, or ground of human knowledges, to induce any verity or persuasion concerning the points of faith, is in my judge- ment not safe : Da fidei qua fidei sun/. For the heathen themselves conclude as much in that excellent and divine fable of the golden chain : That men and gods were not able to draw Jupiter down to the earth ; but contrariwise Jupiter was able to draw them up to heaven. So as we ought not to attempt to draw down or to submit the mysteries of God to our reason; but contrariwise to raise and advance our reason to the divine truth. So as in this part of knowledge, touching divine philosophy, I am so far from noting any deflcience, as I rather note an excess: whereunto I have digressed because of the ex- treme prejudice which both religion and philosophy hath IbJU^rv, 4 rxXlljn ■ >-*■ A IIO OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VI. i. received and may receive by being commixed together; as that which undoubtedly will make an heretical religion, and an imaginary and fabulous philosophy. 2. Otherwise it is of the nature of a na ds and spirits , which is an appendix of theology, both divine and natural, and is neither inscrutable nor interdicted. For although the scripture saith, Let no man deceive you in sublime dis- course touching the worship of angels, pressing into that he hwweth not, &c, yet notwithstanding if you observe well that precept, it may appear thereby that there be two things only forbidden, adoration of them, and opinion fantastical of them, either to extol them further than appertaineth to the degree of a creature, or to extol a man's knowledge of them further than he hath ground . But the sober and grounded inquiry, which may arise out of the passages of holy scriptures, or out of the grada - tions of nature , is not restrained. So of degenerate and revolted spirits, the conversing with them or the employ- ment of them is prohibited, much more any veneration towards them ; but the contemplation or science of their nature, their power, their illusions, either by scripture or reason, is a part of spiritual wisdom. For so the apostle saith, We are not ignorant of his stratagems. And it is no more unlawful to inquire the nature of evil spirits, than to inquire the force of poisons in nature, or the nature of sin and vice in morality. But this part touching angels and spirits I cannot note as deficient, for many have occupied themselves in it; I may rather challenge it, in many of the writers thereof, as fabulous and fantastical. VII. i. Leaving therefore divine philosophy or natural theology (not divinity or inspired theology, which we re- serve for the last of all as the haven and sabbath of all man's contemplations) we will now proceed to natural C**f. ?>'• iC -A- VII. I.] THE SECOND BOOK. Ill philosophy. If then it be true that Democritus said, that tht truth of nature lieih hid in certain deep mines and caves ; and ir it be true likewise that the alchemists do so much inculcate, that Vulcan is a second nature, and im- itateth that dexterously and compendiously which nature worketh by ambages and length of time ; it were good to divide natural philosophy into the mine and the furnac e, and to make two profess ; ons or occupations of natural philosophers, some to be pioneer s and some smiths ; some to di.q, and some to refine and hammer. And surely I do best allow of a division of that kind, though in more familiar and scholastical terms ; namely, that these be the two parts of natural philosophy, the inquisition of causes, and the production of effects ; s peculative , and operative ; na tural scienc e, and n atural pruden ce. For as in civil matters there is a wisdom of discourse, and a wisdom of direction; so is it in natural. [And here I will make a request, that for the latter (or at least for a part thereof) I may revive and reintegrate the misapplied and abused name of natural magic ; which in the true sense is but natural wisdom, or natural prudence ; taken according to the ancient acception, purged from vanity and super- stition!] Now although it be true, and I know it well, that there is an intercourse between causes and effects, so as both these knowledges, speculative and operative, have a great connexion between themselves ; yet because all true and fruitful natural philosophy hath a double scale or ladde r, ascendent and descendent, ascendin g from experiments to the invention of causes, and de- s cending from causes to the invention of new experi- ments ; therefore I judge it most requisite that these two parts be severally considered and handled. 2. Natural science or theory is divided into physic and Aj^a^^oJl pA^ii 1 - \^AJZ^-L^olA K^jJri. WlBmil) 112 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [vil. 2. metaphysic : wherein I desire it may be conceived that I use the word metaphysic in a di ffering sens e from that that is received. And in like manner, I doubt not but it will easily appear to men of judgement, that in this and other particulars, wheresoever my conception and notion may differ from the ancient, yet I am studious to keep the ancient terms. For hoping well to deliv er myself fr om mistaki ng, by the order and perspicuous expressing of that I do propound; I am otherwise zealous and affectionate to recede as little from antiquity, either in terms or opinions, as may stand with truth and the proficience of knowledge. And herein I cannot a little marvel at the philosopher Aristotle, that did proceed in such a spirit of difference and contradiction towards all antiquity : undertaking not only to frame new words of science at pleasure, but to confound and extinguish all ancient wisdom : insomuch as he never nameth or men- tioneth an ancient author or opinion, but to confute and reprove ; wherein for glory, and drawing followers and disciples, he took the right course. For certainly there cometh to pass, and hath place in human truth, that which was noted and pronounced in the highest truth : Veni in nomine pain's, nee recipitis me ; si quis venerit in nomine suo eum recipieiis. But in this divine aphorism (considering to whom it was applied, namely to anti- christ, the highest deceiver) we may discern well that the coming in a man's own name, without regard of antiquity or paternity, is no good sign of truth, although it be joined with the fortune and success of an eum recipieiis. But for this exce llent person Aristotl e, I will think of him that he learned that humour of his scholar, with whom it seemeth he did emulate ; the one to con- quer all opinions, as the other to conquer all nations. GIa^O VII. 2.] THE SECOND BOOK. 113 *x--«/u«.< Wherein nevertheless, it may be, he may at some men's hands, that are of a bitter disposition, get a like title as his scholar did : So, Felix terrarum praedo, non utile mundo Editus exemplum, &c. Felix doctrinae praedo. But to me on the other side that do desire as much as lieth in my pen to ground a sociable intercourse between antiquity and proficience, it seemeth best to keep way with antiquity usque ad aras ; and therefore to retain the ancient terms, though I sometimes alter the uses and definitions, according to the moderate proceeding in civil government; where although there be some alteration, yet that holdeth which Tacitus wisely noteth, eadem via- gistraluum vocabula. 3. To return therefore to the use and acception of the term metaphysic , as I do now understand the word; it appeareth, by that which hath been already said, that 1 intend philosophia prima, summary philosophy and meta- physic, which heretofore have been confounded as one, to be two distinct things. For the one I have made as a parent or common ancestor to all knowledge ; and the other I have now brought in as a branch or descendant of natural science. It appeareth likewise that I have assigned to su mmary philosophy the common principles and axioms which are promiscuous and indifferent to several sciences : I have assigned unto it likewise the inquiry touching the operation of the relative and ad- ventive characters of essences, as quantity, similitude, diversity, possibility, and the rest : with this distinction and provision ; that they be handled as they have efficacy i n nature , and not logically. It appeareth likewise that I J-^-l WoLf* 114 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 3. *^*/v<-c V iVvjMo.- natural theology, which heretofore hath been handled confusedly with metaphysic, I have inclosed and bounded by itself. It is therefore now a question what is left remaining for metaphysic; wherein I may without pre- judice preserve thus much of the conceit of antiquity, that physic should contemplate that which is inherent in matter, and therefore transitory ; and metaphysic that which is abstracted and fixed. And again, that physic should handle that which supposeth in nature only a being and moving; and metaphysic should handle that which supposeth further in nature a reason, understand- ing, and platform. But the difference, perspicuously ex- pressed, is most familiar and sensible. For as we divided natural philosophy in general into the i nquiry of caus es, nf^t^sux^. and productions of effect s : so that part which concerneth trf*^!^. the inquiry of causes we do subdivide according to the received and sound division of causes. The one part, which is physic, inquireth and handleth the material and efficient causes; and the other, which is metaphysic, handleth the formal and final causes. 4. Physic (taking it according to the derivation, and not according to our idiom for medicine) is situate in a middle term or distance between natural history and metaphysic. For natural history describeth the variety of things; physic the causes, but variable or respective causes; and metaphysic the fixed and constant causes. Limus ut hie durescit, et hoec ut cera liquescit, Uno eodemque igni. Vi^a.Ec.? Fire is the cause of induration, but respective to clay ; fire is the cause of colliquation, but respective to wax. But fire is no constant cause either of induration or colli- quation : so then the physical causes are but the efficient and the matter. Physic hath three parts, whereof two \1 - ^JU^XL Lft-^-^jrv-^Xa I VII. 4 .] THE SECOND BOOK. IT 5 respect nature united or collected, the third contemplateth nature diffused or distributed. Nature is collected either into one entire total, or else into the same principles or seeds. So as the first doctrine is touching the contexture or configuration of things, as de mundo, de universitate rerum. The second is the doctrine concerning the prin- ciples or originals of things. The third is the doctrine concerning all variety and particularity of things ; whether it be of the differing s ubstance s, or their differing qualities and natures ; whereof there needeth no enumeration, this part being but as a gloss or paraphrase that attendeth upon the text of natural history. Of these three I cannot report any as deficient. In what truth or per- fection they are handled, I make not now any judge- ment; but they are parts of knowledge not deserted by the labour of man. 5. For metaphysic, we have assigned unto it the in- quiry of formal and final causes; which assignation, as to the former of them, may seem to be nugatory and void, because of the received and inveterate opinion, that the inquisition of man is not competent to find out essential forms or true differences : of which opinion we will take this hold, that the invention of forms is of all other parts of knowledge the worthiest to be sought, if it be possible to be found. As for the possibility, they are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but sea. But it is manifest that Plato, in his opinion of ideas, as one that had a wit of elevation situate as upon a cliff, did descry that forms were the true object of knowledge ; but .lost the real fruit of his opinion, by considering of forms as absolutely abstracted from matter, and not confined and determined by matter ; and so turning his opinion upon theology, wherewith 'all 1 2 F fr\/WV Il6 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 5. ' his natural philosophy is infected. But if any man shall . keep a continual watchful and severe eye upon action, 'o> ' J operation, and the use of knowledge, he may advise and take notice what are the forms, the disclosures whereof are fruitful and important to the state of man. For as to the f orms of substance s (man only except, of whom it *~-» 1 o-^A-i+a^^s said, Formavit hominem de limo terra?, ei spiravit in -^^^ir^-K. faciem ejus spiraculum vita, and not as of all other crea- ■*- ^**A^*> . tures, Producant agues, producat terra), the forms of sub- A*^ stances I say (as they are now by compounding and transplanting multiplied) are so perplexed, as they are not to be inquired ; no more than it were either possible or to purpose to seek in gross the forms of those sounds which make words, which by composition and trans- position of letters are infinite. But on the other side to inquire the form of those sounds or voices which make simple letters is easily comprehensible ; and being known induceth and manifesteth the forms of all words, which consist and are compounded of them. In the same man- ner to inquire the form of a lion, of an oak, of gold ; nay, of water, of air, is a vain pursuit : but to inquire the forms of sense, of voluntary motion, of vegetation, of colours. -~ 9 - ca^jul, °f g rav ity an d levity, of density, of tenuity, of heat, of cold, and all other natures and qualities, which, like an alphabet, are not many, and of which the essences (up- held by matter) of all creatures do consist ; to inquire, I say, the true forms of these, is that part of metaphysic which we now define of. Not but that physic doth make inquiry and take consideration of the same natures : but how ? Only as to the material and efficient causes of them, and not as to the forms. For example , if the ijr^^ cause of whitenes s in snow or froth be inquired, and it be rendered thus, that the subtile intermixture of air and I- fi t,. f H j\Q VII. 5.] THE SECOND BOOK. II 7 water is the cause, it is well rendered; but nevertheless is this the form of whiteness ? No ; but it is the efficient, which is ever but vehiculum forma. This part of metaphysic I do not find laboured ^taphysica and performed : whereat I marvel not : be- T e \° r mis etfim- cause I hold it not possible to be i nvented bus rerum by that course of invention which hath been used ; in regard that men (which is the root of all error) have made too untimely a departure and too remote a recess from particulars. 6. But the use of this part of metaphysic, which I re- Oa* -^ULj, port as deficient, is of the rest the most excellent in two /UoXj^U/^ respects : t he one , because it is the duty and virtue of all knowledge to abridge the infinity of individual experience, as much as the conception of truth will permit, and to remedy the complaint of vita brevis, ars longa ; which is performed by uniting the notions and conceptions of sciences. For k nowledges are as pyramides , whereof history is the basis. So of natural philosophy, the basis is natural history ; the stage next the basis is physic ; the stage next the vertical point is metaphysic. As for the vertical point, opus quod operator Deus a, principio usque ad finem, the summary law of nature, we know not whether man's inquiry can attain unto it. But these three be the true stages of knowledge, and are to them that are de- praved no better than the giants' hills : Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam, Scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum. But to those which refer all things to the glory of God, they are as the three acclamations, Sancfe, sancte, sancte ! holy in the description or dilatation of his works; Jiolv in the connexion or concatenation of them ; and holy in Sol. sT V M ^-H- V *^, -—v. Il8 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. [VII. 6. -*-"v A^o-X>-i^va. the union of them in a perpetual and uniform law. And therefore the speculation was excellent in Parmenides and (^ Plato, although but a speculation in them, that all things # t by scale did ascend to unity . So then always that know- ledge is worthiest which is charged with least multiplicity, which appeareth to be metaphysic; as that which con- sidereth the simple forms or differences of things, which are few in number, and the degrees and co-ordinations whereof make all this variety. The second respect, which valueth and commendeth this part of metaphysic, is that it doth enfranchise the power of man unto the greatest liberty and possibility of works and effects. For physic carrieth men in narrow and restrained ways, subject to J many accidents of impediments, imitating the ordinary flexuous courses of nature. But lata undique sunt sapicnii- bus via : to sapience (which was anciently defined to be rerum divinarum et humanarum scientid) there is ever choice of means. For physical causes give light to new invention in simili materia. But whosoever knoweth any form, knoweth the utmost possibility of superinducing that nature upon any variety of matter ; and so is less re- strained in operation, either to the basis of the matter, or the condition of the efficient ; which kind of knowledge Salomon likewise, though in a more divine sense, elegantly describeth ; non arctabunlur gressus tut, et currens non Ihabebis offendiculum. The ways of sapience are not much liable either to particularity or chance, drf****" ±-*q.o^jl^d> 7. The second part of metaphysic is the inquiry of yr lt L final causes, which I am moved to report no t as omit ted but a s mis placed. And yet if it were but a fault in order, I would not speak of it : for order is matter of illustration, but pertaineth not to the substance of sciences. But this misplacing hath c aused a _deficience, or at least a great VII. 7.] THE SECOND BOOK. 119 improficience in the sciences themselves. For the hand- ling of final causes, mixed with the rest in physical in- quiries, hath intercepted the severe and diligent inquiry of all real and physical causes, and given men the occa- sion to stay upon these satisfactory and specious causes, to the great arrest and prejudice of further discovery. For this I find done not only by Plato, who ever anchor- cth upon that shore, but by Aristotle, Galen, and others which do usually likewise fall upon these flats of discours- ing causes. For to say that the hairs of the eye-lids are for a quickset and fence about the sight ; or that the firmness of the skins and hides of living creatures is to defend them from the extremities of heat or cold ; or that the bones are for the columns or beams, whereupon the frames of the bodies of living creatures are built : or that the leaves of trees are for pro- tecting of the fruit ; or that the clouds are for watering of the earth ; or that the solidness of the earth is for the station and ?na?ision of living creatures, and the like, is well in- quired and collected in metaphysic, but in physic they are impertinent. Nay, they are indeed but remora es and *{ V 4 ** 9 ■ hindrances to stay and slug the ship from further sailing ; and have brought this to pass, that the search of the physical causes hath been neglected and passed in silence. And therefore the natural philosophy of Democritus and some others, who did not suppose a mind or reason in the frame of things, but attributed the form thereof able to maintain itself to infinite essays or proofs of nature, which they term fortune, seemeth to me (as far as I can judge by the recital and fragments which remain unto us) in particularities of physical causes more real and better inquired than that of Aristotle and Plato; whereof both intermingled final causes, the one as a part of theology, and the other as a part of logic, which were the favourite 120 OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, [yil. 7.